Author: Momo Chan

Chapter 1 Fifteen years ago, a brutally murdered corpse was found in my bedroom. My parents, choosing “righteousness” over their son, pointed their fingers at me as the killer. My twin brother, crying hysterically, begged me to turn myself in. My wife, the CEO of a rising tech firm, immediately filed for divorce. I was convicted and sent to prison. The victim’s family paid inmates to ruin my vocal cords and break my arms and legs. For fifteen years, I endured that hell. On the day of my release, my ex-wife and my brother arrived to pick me up, wearing matching wedding bands. My brother looked at me with deep emotion. “Arthur, you’ve paid for your sins. We’ll take good care of you from now on.” A prison guard standing nearby gave me a meaningful look. “Your brother and sister-in-law are treating you well. You better turn over a new leaf and start living right.” I let out a cold sneer. Because the one who committed the murder fifteen years ago wasn’t me. It was my twin brother. … The reporters my brother, Oliver, had brought with him instantly swarmed me, their cameras aimed like weapons. “Mr. Sterling, you brutally murdered someone and even mutilated the corpse, yet you only served fifteen years. Was this due to the financial influence of your sister-in-law, CEO Victoria Sterling?” “What are your thoughts on the victim’s family threatening to kill you?” “In these fifteen years, have you felt a single ounce of remorse for your crimes?” They pressed closer, practically shoving their microphones down my throat. The shifting shadows instantly plunged me back into the nightmare of being jumped in my cell. I instinctively covered my head and scrambled backward, only to trip over my own crippled legs and crash to the ground. “Don’t… don’t hit me…” Amidst the commotion, my ex-wife, Victoria, pushed through the crowd, using her body to shield me from the aggressive reporters. “My husband’s brother only committed manslaughter, and he has served his full sentence. There was no bribery involved! If you continue to harass us, I will have my lawyers pursue this to the fullest extent!” Intimidated by her threat, the reporters reluctantly dispersed. Only then did Oliver quickly walk over, extending a hand with a look of deep concern. “Arthur, are you okay? Thank God I asked Victoria to come along. I’m so sorry, I had no idea the reporters would follow us…” Victoria linked her arm through his other arm, comforting him softly. “This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize.” I slapped his hand away and struggled to my feet, trying desperately to straighten a spine that had grown accustomed to hunching. “I don’t need your fake sympathy!” In front of them, and only them, I refused to look pathetic. Dragging my bad leg, I stubbornly made my way to the car door alone. Oliver squeezed into the backseat right after me. He flashed the wedding ring on his ring finger, his tone laced with a deliberate, performative guilt, but the triumph in his eyes was unmistakable. “Arthur, my wife… I mean, Victoria and I got married fifteen years ago. When you went to prison for murder, my health was failing. To take care of me, she proposed.” He feigned a sudden realization, giving me an apologetic smile. “But don’t worry, Arthur. Victoria and I have already talked it over. You can still live in the villa with us. After all, you’ve been in prison for fifteen years. Even if you were highly capable before, you probably can’t even support yourself now.” “Oliver!” Victoria sharply cut off Oliver’s rambling. She glanced at me through the rearview mirror, her voice softening. “Your brother just got out. Let him get some rest.” Oliver let out a reluctant “Oh.” I turned my head, staring out at the rapidly passing city streets, my mind drifting back to the past. Fifteen years ago, I was a top-tier venture capitalist. Countless people chased after me, waving cash, begging for a piece of the action. The initial capital for Victoria’s startup, and every dime of funding that kept it afloat afterward, came from my operations. She had held my hands tightly back then, her eyes filled with gratitude, promising to protect me for the rest of her life and never let me suffer a single injustice. But fifteen years in a maximum-security prison had ground away my brilliance and numbed my nerves. That world, which once belonged to me, had long since locked its doors against me. When the car pulled into the driveway, I stared at the building ahead, momentarily dazed. The “villa” Oliver had mentioned was the home Victoria and I had bought as our marital house. My parents rushed out, swarming Oliver with doting affection and concern. I stood to the side, feeling like a complete stranger, watching their heartwarming family reunion. Victoria carried my duffel bag. “Mom, Dad, Arthur is back.” My parents’ expressions instantly hardened. The moment they looked at me, their brows knitted together in unison. My dad’s face was twisted with disgust. “Victoria, I told you not to bring this sick, corpse-mutilating murderer back here!” My mom looked equally disapproving. “Exactly, Victoria. Just having him here makes the air feel polluted.” A delayed, sharp pain pierced my chest. For over twenty years, they always made sure to divide fruit exactly evenly between me and my brother. I always believed they loved me too. It wasn’t until fifteen years ago that I realized, with a sickening jolt, that it had all been my own wishful thinking. Oliver affectionately pulled on their arms. “Mom, Dad, Arthur just spent fifteen years in prison. For my sake, just be a little nicer to him!” My parents snorted coldly and said nothing more. Dinner was a rushed, silent affair. Afterward, I was placed in a storage room. Looking at the bare, hard wooden plank they called a bed, I remained silent. Late into the night, I curled up on the wooden board, completely devoid of sleep. In prison, just to torture me, the shot-caller in my cell block would have his guys take shifts watching me. The moment I dared to close my eyes, a brutal beating would follow. Knock, knock, knock. I jolted in terror. It took a long moment for me to remember I wasn’t in a cell anymore. Listening to the persistent knocking, I slowly stood up. When I opened the door and saw who it was, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. “What do you want?” Victoria looked at me with deep concern. “You just got home. I was worried you wouldn’t be used to it, so I came to check on you.” My voice was as cold as ice. “Get out. I don’t need your fake concern.” She looked at me helplessly, a hint of indulgence in her eyes. It was the exact same expression she wore sixteen years ago. Back then, I had caught her and Oliver lying naked in bed together. I had lost my mind, screaming and demanding an explanation. She had shielded Oliver behind her, letting me vent my rage. When I was completely exhausted, she finally spoke, her voice light and helpless. “Oliver and I just got drunk. Nothing happened. Please don’t misunderstand.” Her face from the past perfectly overlapped with the woman standing before me now. She reached out and grabbed my wrist. Her thumb rubbed against my skin, sending a violent shiver of disgust down my spine. “Don’t touch me!” I yanked my arm back, but I couldn’t break her grip. “Arthur, the one I love has always been you. Marrying Oliver was only so I could help take care of your family. We’re only husband and wife on paper…” “Oh?” I interrupted with a cold sneer. “Taking care of him all the way into bed? Oliver made sure to mention before dinner that you had a miscarriage with his child.” Victoria desperately tried to push her way into my embrace. “Arthur, it’s not what you think! I’ve been waiting for you all these years. I told you I would always protect you.” I shoved her away violently, stumbling backward. “You can still stomach a guy looking like this? Or what, are you hoping to have both brothers at your beck and call?” She looked deeply wounded. “Arthur…” “What the hell are you doing?!” Oliver’s shrill voice pierced down the hallway. He looked furious. My parents flanked him on either side, glaring at me with utter revulsion. Victoria quickly walked over, hooking her arm through his and whispering words of comfort. Oliver suddenly lunged at me and slapped me hard across the face. “Arthur! I was kind enough to bring you home, and on your very first day, you go behind my back and try to seduce Victoria?! She is my wife now!” “Have you no shame?!” I swallowed the metallic taste of blood in my mouth and scoffed. “I didn’t do a damn thing.” Seeing his face full of arrogant disbelief, a vindictive urge took hold of me. I curled my lips into a smirk and spoke slowly. “But even if I did, I learned it from you.” “The very first time I brought Victoria home to meet the family, didn’t you sneak into her room wearing my pajamas?” Since we were kids, Oliver always loved taking things that caught my eye. When I brought Victoria home, he brazenly tried to seduce her. Back then, Victoria had chosen me with unwavering certainty, rejecting him flat out. Even when my parents tried to smooth things over and pretend nothing happened, she was the one who stood by my side and demanded justice for me. It was a pity that by our third year of marriage, Victoria slowly began to favor Oliver. My dad slapped me across the face. “Are you still spouting that nonsense?! Victoria already explained that the incident back then was just a misunderstanding! Why do you insist on holding onto it?!” My mom wrapped her arms around Oliver, comforting him. She shot a reproachful look at Victoria. “He’s a murderer! Couldn’t you just give him some money and send him away?! Did you have to bring him back here to ruin our peace?!” I clutched my stinging cheek and let out a low, raspy laugh. “A murderer? But I wasn’t the one who committed the murder.” My parents froze, their faces instantly draining of color. My dad’s voice trembled. “Wh-what nonsense are you talking about?” Enduring the pain, I forced myself to stand tall, keeping my spine perfectly straight, taking in every ounce of their panicked expressions. “Oliver is the one who killed him! If you guys hadn’t used your status as family members to commit perjury, they wouldn’t have even denied me a lawyer! I…” Victoria stepped forward at exactly the right moment. Her tone was gentle, but her authority was absolute. “Arthur, you’ve already paid for your crimes. Why keep dwelling on the past?” “Oliver was out of line today, and I apologize on his behalf. Don’t overthink things. Just get some rest. We won’t bother you anymore.” She looped her arm through Oliver’s and quickly ushered them all away. The moment the door clicked shut, I slid down the wood paneling and collapsed onto the floor. The courage I had just forced myself to project vanished completely. Cold sweat soaked my back. But I knew one thing for certain: I could not afford to collapse now. Over the next few days, my parents treated me like I was invisible. Victoria would occasionally cast hesitant, lingering glances my way. Oliver’s smug bragging eventually stopped when he realized I was completely ignoring him. I breathed a sigh of relief. This arrangement worked for me. It gave me enough time to track down the clues from fifteen years ago. Until one day, I was walking past the study and heard my dad’s agitated voice. “Victoria, I know you still care about Arthur. But he refuses to repent, and he’s still trying to frame Oliver!” My mom chimed in, “If we hadn’t called the police ourselves back then, he would have gotten the death penalty! We’ve done more than enough for him!” Oliver’s voice trembled. He sounded like he was defending me, but he was actually pouring gas on the fire. “It’s all my fault. I never should have married Victoria. It’s only natural that Arthur hates me.” My mom stared directly at Victoria. “Victoria, what exactly are you planning to do with Arthur?” Victoria hesitated for a long time before she finally spoke slowly. “Mom, Dad, don’t worry. I will handle it.” I withdrew my gaze, lowered my eyes, and quietly walked away. Now was not the time for a confrontation. I just needed a little more time. But I never could have imagined how quickly they would act. As I was leaving the hospital after a checkup, a sudden, sharp pain exploded at the back of my neck. The world went black. When I woke up, my eyes were blindfolded, and my mouth was stuffed with a gag. I couldn’t make a single sound. “Oliver… if we really do this, how are we any different from the monster who killed our mom?” “Shut up and back off! When our mom was brutally murdered, that piece of garbage only got fifteen years! I can’t let that go! Plus, if we kill this scumbag, he’s going to pay us ten million dollars!” The blindfold was violently ripped off. A man with a twisted, ferocious face grabbed my jaw. I scanned the room, but I couldn’t see the girl whose voice I had just heard. The man reached out, slapped my cheek mockingly, and yanked the gag out of my mouth. “About to die, and you’re still looking around?” I forced myself to stay calm. “If it’s money you want, I have accounts in a Swiss bank…” Before I could finish, a brutal punch slammed into my stomach. The agonizing pain made me instinctively curl into a ball, but he showed no mercy, raining kicks and punches down on me. “I don’t want your fucking money! If it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have lost our mother! My sister and I wouldn’t have been abandoned by our father and forced to grow up on the streets! This is all because of you! Everything is your fault!” Panting heavily, he grabbed me by the hair and yanked my head up. “But thank God, someone delivered you right into my hands so I could finally get justice for my mom.” “It really… wasn’t me…” Another punch smashed into my face. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. “Shut up! Murderers don’t get to speak!” He shoved the gag back into my mouth, took a few steps back, and pulled out a remote detonator. “I built these explosives myself, but they’re more than enough to blow you to hell.” No! I had finally found the clues to prove my innocence! I couldn’t die here! I thrashed like a madman. The ropes bit deep into my flesh, scraping me raw and bloody, but I couldn’t break free. The ticking countdown echoed through the cavernous warehouse. Every single tick felt like a hammer striking my heart. Three… two… one… BOOM! A scorching shockwave, carrying unimaginable agony, swept over me. Tears of sheer defiance rolled down my face. Just as my consciousness began to shatter, a figure cleaved through the roaring flames and the blistering shockwave, throwing themselves over me and shielding me completely. Every ounce of pain was instantly cut off.

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Chapter 1 My water broke unexpectedly before my due date. I frantically woke up Julian, telling him to grab the hospital bag and get me to the hospital. Just as we were about to walk out the door, my best friend, Chloe, ran out of the guest room barefoot. “Oh, wait! I haven’t washed my hair yet!” My stomach cramped painfully, but Julian actually stopped. “Okay, no rush. Put some shoes on first.” Chloe stood in front of the mirror, brushing her hair and pouting. “Don’t worry, Sarah, I’ll be super fast.” “We agreed I’m going to be the baby’s godmother and the first one to hold her! I can’t take pictures with greasy hair.” Then, she casually tossed an order at Julian. “I’m gonna go wash my hair. Can you wipe down my white sneakers? I want to wear them today.” Without a second of hesitation, Julian dropped my hospital bag and started scrubbing her shoes. My parents called on FaceTime after getting the news. Their faces were pale with panic. “We’re on our way. We already called your doctor. Get there as fast as you can!” I looked at Julian, enduring the pain. “I’m already dilating. If we don’t go right now, the baby and I are both in danger.” Julian let out a soft, dismissive laugh. “Having a baby doesn’t happen that fast. We’d just be sitting around waiting anyway. Stop being so dramatic.” Dramatic. My water just broke, and he was calling me dramatic. I watched him meticulously scrubbing Chloe’s shoes, and suddenly, I felt profoundly exhausted by it all. I quietly sent a text message to someone else. “You said you wanted both me and the baby, right? I’m giving birth in about half an hour.” “If you make it in time, you’re the father.” … The reply came almost instantly. “?” “Okay. It’s a deal.” The shower was running loudly in the bathroom. Julian didn’t rush her at all. Instead, he carefully plugged in the hairdryer and set it to the warm setting for her. Meanwhile, the heavy, dragging pain in my lower abdomen intensified. I slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor. My doula, Mary, couldn’t watch this anymore. She helped me lie flat on the sofa. “Dad, you really shouldn’t delay this any longer. Her water broke. The baby could suffocate at any moment. You need to be at the hospital within half an hour.” “You still have to drive there. What if she goes into a difficult labor?” My sister-in-law chimed in too. “She’s not even at her due date yet! This is a premature rupture of membranes. She has to go to the ER immediately.” “Even if the mother can wait, the baby can’t!” Everyone was staring at him anxiously, but Julian didn’t even look up. He was busy packing Chloe’s skincare products. “It’s fine. Chloe’s just washing her hair.” Then he looked at me, attempting to be soothing. “Having a baby takes hours. Worst case scenario, we just do a C-section. You didn’t want a natural birth anyway.” I looked at him, my voice trembling. “Do you have any idea how dangerous it is when your water breaks?!” “Mhm.” Julian turned his head, staring at the bathroom door, giving a half-hearted hum. He clearly hadn’t heard a word I said. I took a deep breath and violently hurled a throw pillow at him. “I said, the baby and I could die at any second! I need to go to the hospital RIGHT NOW! Are you deaf?!” Julian was stunned by my screaming. Irritation flashed in his eyes. “Are you having another meltdown? Ever since you got pregnant, you expect the whole world to revolve around you.” “Chloe is just washing her hair! You can’t even wait five minutes? Weren’t you the one who promised she could be the godmother?” The shouting in the living room alerted Chloe. She ran out of the bathroom with dripping wet hair, acting all cutesy. “Please, please, please! Didn’t we agree ages ago that I’m going to be the godmother?” “These are the most important photos of my life! How can I take them looking like a greaseball? Let me just blow-dry it, it’ll be super quick.” As soon as the hairdryer turned on, Julian took it from her. “You’re too slow. Let me do it, then we’ll leave.” Watching Julian meticulously dry Chloe’s hair, a sour bitterness filled my chest. In my third trimester, whenever I asked him to help dry my hair, he always made excuses about being too tired from work. Just as I was thinking this, a sharp, violent pain tore through my stomach. More amniotic fluid leaked out. Mary quickly helped clean me up, but her face suddenly dropped. “Oh my god, your fluid is turning yellow.” “That means there’s meconium in the fluid. We seriously cannot wait another second!” The hairdryer was buzzing so loudly neither of them heard her. Mary marched over and yanked the plug out of the wall. “The mother needs to go to the hospital immediately!” Chloe looked at Julian in shock. “Since when does a doula get to boss people around in your house? I’m just washing my hair and she’s throwing a fit?” Julian scoffed coldly. “I told her my mom could come help, but she insisted on hiring someone. What am I supposed to do?” He turned the hairdryer back on. Neither of them showed an ounce of concern for me or my baby. Instead, they were complaining about my decision to hire a doula. Eventually, the hospital called to rush us. “It’s 10:20 AM. Where is the patient? The delivery room is prepped and the doctors are ready. You must arrive before 11:00 AM. Do not take any chances with this.” The hairdryer stopped again. This time, I pulled the plug. I was gasping for air. “11:00 AM. I have to be at the hospital.” “Fine, fine, fine, we’re going right now. You always blow things out of proportion.” Under my desperate urging, Julian reluctantly grabbed the hospital bag and followed me out the door. At that moment, my parents and my brother arrived. Seeing that I still hadn’t left, their faces immediately darkened. “Why are you still here?! Hurry up and go!” But before I could even step out the door, Chloe shrieked again. She touched her hair, looking frustrated. “Oh no, I forgot to curl my hair! How am I supposed to take good pictures like this?” “Can we wait just a little bit longer? Curling it will be super fast!” My mom couldn’t help but intervene. “How about you stay here and finish getting ready? We’ll take Sarah to the hospital first. This is a matter of life and death, we can’t wait.” Chloe casually plugged in her curling iron, not in a rush at all. “Auntie, don’t worry! I’ll be done in a second, let’s just go together.” “I’m the godmother! I have to look beautiful when I’m the first one to hold her!” “If you’re coming, then hurry the hell up! My sister’s life is on the line, we’re not waiting for you to do your makeup!” My brother snapped at Chloe. Her hand paused on the curling iron, and she immediately put on a crying voice. “Why are you yelling at me?! I’m not doing it on purpose! I’m already going as fast as I can!” “How was I supposed to know her water would break today? I wasn’t prepared for this either, I’m stressed out too!” My mom ignored her, supporting my weight as we headed for the stairs. My dad and brother ran ahead to start the car. But Julian, without a second thought, stepped back into the living room. “It’s okay, take your time curling it. Don’t burn yourself.” Hearing this, my mom shot Julian a deeply disturbed look. Inside my belly, the baby was kicking and thrashing wildly from lack of oxygen. I inhaled sharply from the pain and glared at Julian. “I have to be at the hospital by 11:00 AM.” “It is 10:30 AM right now. Are you coming or not?” Seeing my pale, exhausted face, a flicker of guilt crossed Julian’s eyes. He forcefully pushed me back onto the sofa to sit down, trying to comfort me. “Stop acting out. You’re just faking the pain because you want me to prioritize you.” “Chloe will be done soon. Just be good.” I was forced to lie back down on the sofa. The contractions were no longer just a dull ache; they were turning into a sharp, agonizing pain. Chloe was still checking herself out in the mirror. When our eyes met, cold sweat was pouring down my forehead. She stuck her tongue out at me. “Since my hair is already curled, I might as well throw on some quick makeup. It’ll only take a few minutes.” “Julian, come help me pick! Does this nude shade or the rose color look better?” My sister-in-law, who had been quiet until now, finally exploded. “Enough is enough! Sarah is waiting to go to the hospital!” But Chloe just walked over and linked arms with her, her tone dripping with envy. “Sarah is so lucky. She’s having a baby and even her sister-in-law comes rushing over.” “Not like me. Nobody loves me. I just want to look pretty for one photo, I’m sure Sarah will understand, right?” I was in too much pain to speak, so she took my silence as a yes. Julian looked at me too. “Five more minutes, max. Once she’s done, we leave immediately.” Another contraction ripped through me. I gripped the bedsheets desperately until the wave of agony passed before I could finally speak. “Julian. On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, she said she wanted to come along. You insisted we wait for her. She overslept, the courthouse closed, and we still aren’t legally married.” “At our wedding, she was supposed to be a bridesmaid, but she insisted on riding in your car. She got drunk the night before and made you miss the ceremony time.” “Today is the last time I will ever ask you this. Do you choose me and our child, or do you choose to wait for her?” Julian’s face went completely dark. “Are you seriously using the fact that you’re in labor to bring up old arguments?!” Chloe dramatically covered her mouth. “Wow, Sarah, I didn’t know you held such grudges! Do pregnant women just have nothing better to do than try and pick fights with people?” “Whatever. I’m not going to argue with a pregnant lady. But I’m not done getting ready yet.” I looked at her. It was supposed to just be a hair wash. Then it became makeup. Next, she would definitely need to pick out an outfit. She wouldn’t be out that door for another hour. At 10:40 AM, there were streaks of blood in my amniotic fluid. I ignored them completely, biting down hard on my lip to stop myself from screaming in pain. “Take your time getting ready. I won’t be joining you.” Hearing that I was leaving, Chloe sprinted over and blocked the door. “Oh my gosh, what’s a few more minutes?! I’ll be done so fast! Do you really want me looking ugly when I hold my goddaughter? These are the most important photos of my life!” At 10:45 AM, another gush of fluid ran down my legs. I could barely stand. My brother called, frantically rushing us. “Why aren’t you down here yet?! The hospital keeps calling! If we aren’t there by 11:00 AM, the chances of both mother and baby surviving drop drastically!” “Every minute we delay is another minute of danger!” The contractions were hitting me wave after wave. I was in so much pain I couldn’t even form a complete sentence. My sister-in-law snatched the phone from me and roared into it. “It’s not that we don’t want to leave! It’s because ugly people take forever to get ready, and she’s refusing to leave but won’t let us out the door either!” “Fine, stay right there. I’m coming up with Dad.” When my dad stormed upstairs, Chloe was meticulously applying false eyelashes in front of the mirror. He suppressed his rage and turned to Julian. “Julian, I have never treated you poorly. When you married my daughter, I told you I didn’t want a car, a house, or a dowry. All I asked was that you treat her well.” “What did you promise me back then?” “And now, you’re risking my daughter’s life to wait for someone else? Do you think this is acceptable?!” My brother’s fists were clenched tight. “Julian, when you pursued Sarah, you swore you’d be good to her for the rest of your life. That’s the only reason I let you have her.” “We’ve all seen how much she’s suffered through this pregnancy. And now you’re telling her to wait? Tell me, how exactly do you put giving birth on hold?!” “But… I’m the godmother! If my hair is greasy, how am I supposed to take pictures?” “Yeah! Sarah already promised Chloe could be the godmother.” The two of them played off each other, somehow spinning this to make it my fault again. My dad couldn’t hold back anymore. He shouted furiously. “Godmother?! What the hell is a godmother compared to the actual mother?!” “So you’re saying Sarah has to wait? She has to wait for this girl to finish her pathetic little performance before my daughter is allowed to give birth?!” My dad was usually the peacemaker. In the past, he was always so warm and welcoming to Julian. Whenever we argued, he would always tell me to reign in my temper. This was the first time I had ever seen him so enraged. Julian lowered his head. Meanwhile, Chloe finally finished applying her last eyelash. She stepped in front of Julian. “Sir, that’s really unfair. What do you mean ‘waiting for me’? Even if we go to the hospital, we’ll just be waiting there too! Why aren’t you yelling at the doctors?” “And Sarah, if you hadn’t asked me, I wouldn’t even want to be the godmother! Now you’re acting like this is all my fault.” “Fine! It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have even come!” The next second, she stormed back into the guest room and slammed the door so hard the walls shook. Another violent contraction hit me. My vision went completely black, and I almost collapsed to my knees. My family rushed to grab me, trying to carry me downstairs. But Julian still refused to leave. He blocked the door, his voice low and heavy. “Sarah, does a few minutes really make that much of a difference? What is the point of fighting over a few minutes?” “You were the one who asked her to be the godmother! Now you’ve caused this huge scene. Go apologize to her right now.” “Or do you want your child to be born without a father present?!” He knew perfectly well how terrified I was of giving birth. We had agreed ages ago that he would be in the delivery room with me and that he would cut the umbilical cord. So now, he was threatening me. If Chloe didn’t leave, neither would he. If that’s how it was going to be, then I’d just get my child a new father. After all, ever since I sent that text, my phone had been blowing up with messages. The most recent one read: “Almost there.” At 10:50 AM, the hospital called again. “Where exactly is the patient? Do you need us to dispatch an ambulance? Based on the symptoms you described, her amniotic fluid is likely almost completely drained.” “If she isn’t admitted immediately, you will be responsible for the consequences.” My mom was so frantic her voice was shaking. “Did you hear the doctor?! The fluid is almost gone! Get out of the way!” Inside the guest room, Chloe cried even louder. “It’s fine, you guys go ahead! Don’t worry about an outsider like me!” “Someone like me doesn’t deserve to be the baby’s godmother anyway!” Julian panicked. He stood outside the door and promised her loudly: “If you don’t go, I won’t go either.” The moment those words left his mouth, everyone’s faces changed. 10:52 AM. Enduring the contractions, I directed my mom to pack all my jewelry, bank books, and important documents. Seeing me packing my valuables, Julian’s rage finally exploded. “What the hell are you doing now?! Can’t you just go apologize?!” “I’m telling you, this silent treatment isn’t going to work on me anymore. Don’t expect me to come crawling to your parents’ house begging you to come back this time.” I touched my rock-hard stomach and used every ounce of strength I had left to shove him out of the way. “I said, I’m going to the hospital. The baby has stopped moving.” “Fine, go! But don’t come crying to me later!” Julian stepped aside, absolutely certain that I would need his signature to proceed with the delivery. Hearing this, Chloe suddenly stopped crying. She poked her head out the door. “Julian, you should probably go. Don’t worry about me. Her whole family is watching, after all.” She made it sound like she was being considerate, but she was really just taking a jab at my family for being overly involved. I didn’t have time to deal with them. Clutching my stomach, I stumbled down the stairs. Baby, please just hold on a little longer for Mommy. Please. But when we reached the garage, my car was gone. When I got pregnant, my parents bought me a luxury minivan to make things easier. But the parking spot was empty. My brother made a phone call. “You bastard! Where is my sister’s car?!” Chloe, who had just demanded we wait for her, suddenly wasn’t in a rush anymore. She ran down the stairs holding her bangs, frantically trying to explain. “I told Julian! I borrowed the car for a couple of days! I was going to return it soon!” I completely ignored her and dialed 911. “Hello, I need to report a stolen…” Before I could finish the sentence, Julian slapped the phone out of my hand. He grabbed my arm and dragged me outside. “You wanted to go to the hospital, right? Fine! Let’s go right now! Happy?” He shoved me into his sedan and drove like a maniac, speeding and slamming on the brakes. Huge drops of cold sweat rolled down my face. My mom kept pleading with him. “Slow down! Drive safe!” His voice was cold and hard. “Just a minute ago you couldn’t wait five minutes, now you want me to slow down?” At 10:57 AM, we finally arrived at the hospital. The ER staff had a gurney waiting outside for me. The operating room was prepped. They just needed a family member’s signature to wheel me in. Just as Julian picked up the pen, Chloe suddenly let out an annoyed groan. “Oh no! I forgot to put on my press-on nails! My hands are gonna look so ugly in pictures! Sarah, wait just a second, let me glue these on before we take a picture.” 10:58 AM. I was completely pale from the agonizing pain. I could only force out a few broken words. “Hurry… sign it…” The doctors and nurses all sternly warned Julian. “Sign it right now! The amniotic fluid is severely contaminated. If it enters her bloodstream, it’s over.” “The optimal window for intervention closes at 11:00 AM. Every single minute is critical.” Julian hesitated with the pen. He wrote one stroke, then stopped, turning back to me. “Can we just wait a second? Gluing on nails is super fast.” I closed my eyes. I could feel something tearing, dropping heavily inside me. Julian kept rambling. “We’re already at the hospital anyway, what difference does a minute make? She just wants a nice photo for the memories.” I was delirious from the pain. I roared with whatever breath I had left: “Sign it, or get the fuck out!” “What is your problem?!” 10:59 AM. The elevator doors chimed and slid open. A man in a black suit strode out rapidly. He shoved Julian aside and stepped right to the front. “She means, get the fuck out.” “I am the father of this child. I will sign it.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533236”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 I went to the hospital where my brother works to get treated for a severe allergic reaction, only to cross paths with a nursing intern who harbored a massive crush on him. After overhearing what she thought was an “intimate” conversation between me and my brother, she became intensely jealous. Coincidentally, my brother walked in at that exact moment and, out of pure habit, reached out to feel my forehead to check for a fever. That was all it took. She completely cemented me as her ultimate rival, her eyes practically shooting daggers at me. I couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity. Just as I opened my mouth to explain the situation, she suddenly shrieked and violently slapped my brother’s hand away. “Dr. Carter, break up with her! Don’t let this filthy woman deceive you! This isn’t an allergic reaction!” “She has… she has a rash all over her backside!” “Those are the classic symptoms of secondary syphilis! She has an STD!” 01 The entire ER fell into a deathly, suffocating silence. Every single pair of eyes in the room snapped toward me, locking onto my exposed back and… my half-pulled-down pants. My brain practically exploded. All the blood in my body rushed violently to my face. “What the fuck kind of bullshit are you spewing?!” I was the first to react, my entire body shaking with fury. I whipped around to face the intern, Chloe, my eyes burning red. “What is your name?! What is your badge number?! Do you realize you are committing blatant defamation?!” Chloe visibly flinched at my explosive rage, huge tears instantly spilling down her cheeks. But she stubbornly refused to back down. Weeping hysterically, she turned to look at my brother, Liam, who was currently standing frozen in absolute shock. The look in her eyes was a mix of righteous indignation, agonizing heartbreak, and a bizarre, delusional sense of… “saving” him. “Dr. Carter! I’m not making this up! I spent four years in nursing school, I know what I’m looking at!” She sobbed as if her heart was breaking, pointing a trembling finger at me. “I just didn’t want to see you get played by a woman like this! Her personal life is clearly a disaster, how could she ever be good enough for you?! Look at her, she’s still trying to lie her way out of it!” Liam’s face was a perfect portrait of ‘Who am I and what dimension have I stepped into?’ I violently yanked my pants up, not even caring about the searing pain of the fabric scraping against my rash-covered skin. I stood up, locking my eyes onto Chloe like a predator. “Say it again,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “Tell me exactly what disease I have.” “I…” Chloe shrank back under my lethal glare. But catching a glimpse of Liam standing next to her, she suddenly found a surge of pathetic courage and puffed out her chest. “Don’t you know exactly what you’ve been doing behind his back?” “Okay,” I let out a dark, furious laugh. “Excellent.” I wasn’t going to waste another second arguing with her. I pulled out my phone and, right in front of her face, started dialing. “Hello, 911? I need to report a crime. There is someone here publicly committing slander and defamation, violating my rights…” “Wait, wait, wait! Miss Miller! Please, let’s not escalate this!” A middle-aged man wearing an “Attending Physician” badge sprinted into the room, clearly having heard the commotion. One look at the situation, and then a glance at Liam’s livid face, and he looked like he was about to pass out. “Dr. Carter, what… what exactly is going on here?” Liam spoke, his voice completely flat. “Dr. Evans, this nurse just announced to the entire ER that my ‘darling’ has secondary syphilis.” Dr. Evans’s face drained of all color. He whipped around to face Chloe, practically grinding his teeth together. He leaned in and hissed furiously, “Chloe! What the hell are you doing?! Diagnosing a patient by eye without a single lab result?! Do you think you’re a walking X-ray machine?!” “I… I…” Chloe’s tears flowed even harder. She looked desperately toward Liam for help. “Dr. Carter, I was genuinely just trying to protect you! I…” “Shut your mouth!” Dr. Evans looked like his head was going to explode. He knew perfectly well that Liam had serious influence in the hospital administration. If this blew up, their entire department was going to get dragged through the mud. “Apologize to Miss Miller and Dr. Carter immediately!” “Do you want to lose your residency offer or what?!” The words “residency offer” clearly hit Chloe’s kill switch. She shuddered violently, biting her lower lip. Her face was a mask of pure humiliation and bitter resentment. With extreme, agonizing reluctance, she forced herself to bow to me. “I’m… sorry.” Her voice was as quiet as a mosquito, but the venomous hatred in her eyes looked like she wanted to swallow me alive. “I don’t want your apology,” I cut her off, sweeping a razor-sharp glare across both her and Dr. Evans. “I am going to get a comprehensive STD screening right here, right now, at this hospital.” I paused, enunciating every single syllable. “If the results show that I am completely clean… today, I am not only suing you, Chloe, for defamation, but I am also suing this hospital for gross negligence and enabling an intern to spread malicious rumors about patients!” Cold sweat instantly broke out on Dr. Evans’s forehead. “Miss Miller, please calm down,” he practically begged, plastering on a placating smile. “This is an absolute misunderstanding! Chloe, you are suspended from clinical duties immediately. Go home and write a ten-page apology and reflection! You will be formally reprimanded by the administration!” I was sick of this circus. I turned on my heel and walked out. Liam hurried after me, quickly getting me registered and rushing my blood work. I drew my own blood. I administered my own IV. By the time I dragged my rash-covered, exhausted, and furiously pissed-off body back to my apartment, it was the middle of the night. I choked down my allergy meds and passed out in a heavy, miserable sleep. And for the entire time I was asleep, the internet was relentlessly tearing me apart. When I finally opened my eyes, it was to the sound of Liam’s phone calls blowing up my device. “Hello…” my voice was raspy like sandpaper. “Thank god you finally answered! Open TikTok right now! It’s a massive disaster!” My heart skipped a beat. I opened the app. My DMs and notifications were at 999+, lagging my phone so hard it looked like a slideshow. The number one trending video in my city was staring me right in the face. In the video, a girl wearing medical scrubs was crying hysterically to the camera. It was Chloe. The text overlay on the video read: [I just wanted to be a good nurse. Is that really a crime?] She didn’t name names, but the background was unmistakably the hallway of the hospital’s ER. Between choked sobs, she spoke: “…I was just trying to be a good person and warn that gentleman that his ‘girlfriend’s’ symptoms were highly suspicious. If she really had that kind of disease, it’s highly contagious. But I never expected his girlfriend to react so violently, insisting on filing a formal complaint against me…” “…Now, just to sweep things under the rug, management suspended me and is making me write a formal apology. I’ve studied nursing for four years, and I honestly have no idea what I did wrong…” “…Maybe I shouldn’t have been so nosy. But I couldn’t just stand by and watch that poor man get played like a fool. I didn’t do anything wrong! I’m still the best little sheep!” That last line, “the best little sheep,” was a tag she frequently used for herself. The comment section was an absolute warzone. 02 [Don’t cry, sweetie! You did nothing wrong! You’re just too kind for this world!] [Some women these days sleep around like crazy, and we’re not even allowed to point it out?] [That patient definitely filed a complaint because you hit the nail on the head and she panicked! Sending hugs to the little sheep!] [Holy shit, is this St. Jude’s Hospital? I think I was actually there yesterday! That woman was acting like a total psycho!] [Internet, do your thing! Find out who this woman is! Don’t let her ruin that handsome guy’s life!] I was shaking uncontrollably from pure rage. What an absolute masterclass in twisting the truth and playing the victim! She was even actively replying to comments, painting vivid, insulting pictures of my appearance. [The woman looked sick and gross, but her temper was absolutely vile. I have no idea how she managed to trick the guy standing next to her. He was incredibly handsome and classy, they were literally worlds apart!] [I heard that handsome guy is actually one of the administrative directors at our hospital! He’s such a genuinely nice person! Ugh!] My blood was boiling. I immediately started typing furiously in the comment section: [I am the “patient” you’re talking about, and here is exactly what happened…] I barely got halfway through typing out the real story when an icy system notification popped up on my screen: [Your account has been restricted due to multiple user reports and community guideline violations. You have been forcibly logged out.] My vision went black for a second. When I recovered, I immediately contacted customer support, only to receive an automated reply stating that appeals would take three to five business days to process. Three to five business days?! By then, my life would be completely ruined! Liam was panicking on the other end of the line: “Serena, I already went to the hospital director! They promised to issue an official statement clearing this up immediately!” “Liam,” I took a deep breath, forcing myself to remain calm. “Don’t. Right now, you are the ‘poor, deceived handsome guy.’ The more you try to defend me, the more the internet will think I have ‘deep pockets’ and am using my ‘connections’ to bully a poor little intern.” “Then what the hell are we supposed to do? Just let her throw this toxic sludge all over you?!” I hung up the phone, staring intensely at Chloe’s tear-stained face on the screen. I suddenly realized that the way she looked at Liam in the ER last night was incredibly bizarre. That wasn’t the look an intern gives a senior administrative colleague. That was… obsession. Jealousy. Bitter resentment. She kept repeating phrases like “for your own good” and “she’s not good enough for you.” Why would a brand-new intern care so intensely about my brother’s love life? Unless… she already knew him. An absurd, wild theory flashed like lightning through my brain. I abruptly sat up and dialed Liam’s number again. “Liam, I need you to do something for me. Right now. I need you to log into the hospital’s internal staff forum.” “Huh? Right now? Why?” “Don’t ask questions. Just search for a specific thread.” I gave him a few keywords based on a fuzzy memory. “Search: ‘Dr. Carter,’ ‘girlfriend,’ ‘not good enough.’” The other end of the line went silent. As a hospital administrator, Liam had unrestricted access to the internal network. Five minutes later, he called me back. His voice was laced with utter shock and disbelief. “Serena… how… how the hell did you know about this?” He sent me a screenshot. It was a thread from three months ago, posted in the forum’s “Anonymous Gossip” section. Title: [Confession] Dr. Carter in Admin is such an amazing guy, but is his girlfriend way too high-maintenance? Body: [OP is a new intern. Today in the cafeteria, I saw Dr. Carter eating his lunch. His girlfriend (I think that’s who it was) called him, and he literally had to drop his food and run all the way down to the lobby café just to buy her some limited-edition strawberry frappuccino.] [Last week, I also saw his girlfriend making him carry her bags around the hospital courtyard. She was bossing him around so much, but Dr. Carter has such a good temper, he just smiled the whole time.] [Plus, I heard his girlfriend burns through money like crazy, and Dr. Carter practically gives her his entire paycheck.] [What is the appeal of a woman like this? Why would Dr. Carter ever settle for her? I honestly feel so bad for him!] The replies below were all over the place. [OP, do you have a crush on Dr. Carter or something?] [Hahaha, Dr. Carter is practically the hospital heartthrob. Half the staff has a crush on him.] [I’ve seen that woman too. She’s definitely pretty, but she looks like a total bitch.] And the OP, when accused of having a crush, frantically replied with a massive paragraph: [I do NOT! Stop making things up! I just feel bad for Dr. Carter! He’s such an incredible person, why should he have to get played by a woman like that?!] I stared at the screenshot, my hands and feet turning ice cold. Three months ago, I came to the hospital to get my teeth cleaned. Liam bought me a drink, but he got the wrong flavor, so I told him to go back down and get the right one. Last week, my mom told us to go pick up her physical exam results. I did some shopping on the way, so I made him carry my bags. As for his paycheck… his debit card was confiscated by my mom ages ago because he’s terrible with money. I hold onto it now, and I essentially give him a monthly allowance. I took a deep breath, my voice dropping to a freezing temperature. “Liam, trace the IP address of the original poster.” Liam: “…Serena, the IP is pinging from Intern Dorm Building A.” “Building A… who lives there?” “…Dermatology interns, and a few from Internal Medicine.” Liam paused. “Chloe… lives in Building A.” 03 I laughed. I laughed so hard tears almost pricked my eyes. This wasn’t a medical misdiagnosis. This wasn’t a random, unlucky encounter. This was a premeditated, deliberate hit job fueled by an unrequited crush. Chloe didn’t misread my symptoms. She had already “diagnosed” me as a disease. She wasn’t trying to “treat” me; she was trying to “punish” me. She wanted to punish me, the “bitch” who was “not good enough” for Liam, the “horrible woman” who was “tricking” him. Alright, then. You want to settle this on the internet? Right at that exact moment, a new friend request popped up on my phone. The profile picture was Chloe’s innocent, pitiful face. I accepted it. Her messages instantly flooded in. [Miss Serena Miller, I assume? I honestly never expected things to blow up this massively online.] [I already know I made a mistake, and I’ve begged for forgiveness. But as a medical professional, let me give you a piece of advice: a girl should respect her own body. Maybe you shouldn’t let your personal life get so messy.] That sickeningly arrogant, condescending tone… she honestly thought she was some kind of savior. I stared at those words, so angry I couldn’t help but laugh. I started typing out a furious string of curses, but my finger paused over the send button. What was the point of cursing her out? It would only give her the satisfaction of knowing she got to me. I deleted the paragraph of profanity and calmly typed a single sentence. [Are you at the hospital right now?] Chloe clearly hadn’t anticipated that response. After a few seconds, she just replied with a question mark. Seeing that question mark, a cold, predatory smirk curled on my lips. I didn’t bother replying. I just dialed Liam’s number. “Liam, I need a favor.” “Anything, Serena. Just say it.” “I need you to go live on your TikTok account.” “Huh?” “And title the stream: [The Truth About the “Little Sheep’s” Patient Slander: The Guy Involved Speaks Out.]” 04 Early the next morning, Liam and I walked back into the hospital. Liam had a decent following on TikTok—a few tens of thousands of followers he’d gained from posting gym videos and administrative behind-the-scenes content. The moment the livestream started and the title was pinned, thousands of viewers flooded in. The vast majority were people who had eaten up the “Little Sheep” drama from the night before, rushing in specifically to trash the “slutty girlfriend” and the “blind, pathetic boyfriend.” [Ew, this bitch actually showed her face at the hospital again?] [Is this guy insane? He’s so hot, why is he defending a chick with stage-two syphilis?] [You city people are absolutely wild!] I completely ignored the chat and walked straight into the main ER lobby. Sure enough, Chloe was there. She wasn’t wearing her scrubs. She was dressed in a pristine white sundress, chatting and laughing with another nurse, completely unfazed by her supposed “suspension.” When she saw me, she froze for a second, then her lips twisted into an arrogant, condescending smirk. But when her eyes shifted past me and landed on Liam—who was walking right beside me, holding his phone up and actively livestreaming—all the color violently drained from her face. In a fraction of a second, her expression morphed into one of pure, tearful desperation. She practically sprinted over to us, bowing ninety degrees over and over again. “Dr. Carter! Miss Miller! I’m so sorry! I’m so, so sorry!” “I swear, I had no idea the internet would react like that… I shouldn’t have exposed your illness. I was just so terrified you were going to infect other people…” While she cried, she kept stealing sideways glances at Liam. Her performance was Oscar-worthy. The livestream chat instantly exploded. [Did you hear that?! She admitted it’s an ‘illness’ and not an ‘allergy’!] [I’m gonna be sick. This bitch actually dragged her ‘boyfriend’ here to cause a scene?] I swallowed down the tidal wave of rage in my chest and coldly cut off her pathetic little performance. “Illness? Great.” I held up a manila folder for the camera to see. “Last night’s blood test results are finished. They’re right in here.” Chloe’s sobbing abruptly stopped. “But I know exactly what people will say. They’ll say we used our ‘connections’ to force the hospital to doctor the results.” I turned to the camera. I turned to face the growing crowd of onlookers in the lobby. “So, right now, in front of the entire internet and everyone in this room, I am going to register as a patient again, draw my blood again, and run a complete, comprehensive STD screening!” “And that’s not all.” I turned to Liam. Liam knew the drill. He immediately dialed a number on speakerphone. “Hello, Notary Public Office? I need an expedited, on-site notarization service immediately…” “Wait…” Chloe’s face went from pale to ghostly white. Right at that moment, Dr. Evans—the attending from yesterday—rushed onto the scene, his face dark with fury. “This is absurd! What do you think this hospital is? A reality TV set?!” He was clearly trying to shut the whole thing down. Liam didn’t say a word. He walked right up to Dr. Evans and whispered something in his ear. I only caught a few fragments: “…the hospital director…”, “…internal forum…”, “…malicious defamation…” Dr. Evans’s face rapidly shifted from white, to green, and finally to a sick, ashen gray. He glared at Chloe with a look so lethal he looked ready to swallow her whole. Finally, speaking through tightly clenched teeth, he forced out three words: “Let her test.” I took Liam’s phone, walked up to the counter, paid the fees, and registered. I stared blankly into the camera, completely ignoring the toxic sludge pouring into the live chat. Blood drawn. Urine sample taken. Every single test administered… The notary officials arrived quickly. Two staff members set up professional cameras, recording the entire chain of custody. Throughout the entire process, I remained completely, chillingly calm. Chloe tried to find excuses to slip away multiple times, but Liam stood blocking the exit of the lab like a bouncer, physically turning her back around every single time. Her face grew paler by the minute, panic finally bleeding into her eyes. When all the tests were done, I crossed my arms and sat in the hospital lobby, waiting. The viewer count on the livestream had broken 100,000. Everyone was waiting for the grand finale of this circus. Two hours later, I was handed the freshly printed stack of lab reports. I didn’t even look at them. I handed the entire stack, along with the notarized documents, directly to Dr. Evans. “Dr. Evans,” I offered a polite, razor-sharp smile. “You are the attending physician. You are the expert here. Do me a favor and read my test results out loud for the hundreds of thousands of people watching this stream.” Dr. Evans’s white coat was completely soaked in sweat. He took the stack of papers, his hands trembling violently. He cleared his throat and started reading, page by page. “Complete Blood Count… Normal.” “Liver Function… Normal.” “Kidney Function… Normal.” … He read quickly, right up until he reached the very last page. His voice suddenly completely vanished. He looked up, shooting me an incredibly bizarre look, then looked back down at the paper. His eyes were filled with intense hesitation and a sliver of… pity? The livestream chat instantly picked up on the sudden shift. [Why did he stop reading? What does the last page say?!] [Say it already! The suspense is killing me!] Under the aggressive urging of over a hundred thousand viewers, the doctor swallowed hard. He looked dead into the camera lens and forced the words out of his mouth: “Treponema Pallidum Antibodies… Positive (+).” “Diagnosis: Syphilis. Stage Two.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533235”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day my wealthy biological parents came to pick me up, I let out a heavy sigh. “Never mind,” I said. “You guys definitely prefer the daughter you raised. If I go back, I’ll just be a nuisance. Let me just fend for myself out here.” My parents laughed awkwardly. “How could you say that? You are our biological daughter.” After getting into the car, I spent the entire ride scribbling in my little notebook. My mom leaned over, curious. “What are you writing, sweetheart?” “I’m pre-planning all the ways your adopted daughter is going to try and frame me.” The pity play: Make my parents think I’m bullying her. Frame me for stealing. …… My parents repeatedly promised that nothing like that would ever happen. That was, until Chloe threw herself down the stairs and frantically claimed I pushed her. My parents immediately spun around, raising their hands to hit me. I calmly checked off the “pity play” box in my notebook. Remembering my warning from the car ride, they abruptly pulled their hands back. “Let’s check the security cameras. If you really pushed her, we will punish you.” [Chapter 1] Chloe’s sobbing came to a screeching halt. She shrieked, “Cameras?!” I nodded and pointed to the small camera aimed directly at the staircase. Because I had anticipated these exact difficulties, I demanded my parents install cameras before I even agreed to move in, just to guarantee my innocence. They had accused me of making a mountain out of a molehill back then. Little did they know, the cameras would prove useful within forty-eight hours. Chloe, the girl who had taken my place for fifteen years, had no idea they were there. If she had known, she wouldn’t have chosen to throw herself down the stairs. “Mom, Dad, I can’t believe you don’t trust me. It hurts… it hurts so much. I think I’m dying…” Chloe clutched her slightly bruised ankle, weeping beautifully. My mother’s tears instantly fell. My father scooped Chloe up in his arms and said anxiously, “Let’s get you to the hospital!” I stood to the side and asked softly, “Mom, Dad, are we still checking the footage?” My mother stayed silent, but my father lashed out, “Maya, do you have any empathy at all?” “Your sister is hurt like this, and you’re still obsessing over security footage?!” Hearing this, my mother glared at me through her tears. “Exactly, Maya! Whether Chloe fell on her own or you pushed her, she’s injured now. You should be checking on her. She is your sister, after all.” I didn’t understand. Why should I care about someone who was openly hostile toward me? Besides, falling down three steps wasn’t going to kill her. I sighed, watching my parents slam the door as they rushed her out. I sat on the stairs, rewatching the security footage on my phone. I clipped the exact moment Chloe threw herself down the steps and saved the video. My older brother, Liam, walked through the front door carrying a bag of takeout. “Chloe! Look what your big brother brought you!” He scanned the room. Not seeing Chloe, he asked the housekeeper, “Maria, where’s my sister?” Maria pointed in my direction. “Young Master, your biological sister is right there.” Liam gave me a cold, dismissive glance. “I only have one sister, and that’s Chloe. Don’t make that mistake again.” “Where’s Chloe? Did something happen?” Under Liam’s relentless questioning, Maria finally told him the truth. “What?! You’re saying Chloe fell down the stairs?” Liam immediately pointed a finger at me. “Did you do this?!” I opened the video on my phone and held it up to his face. “She threw herself down to frame me.” Liam swatted my phone away, sending it crashing to the floor. “Enough! If you hadn’t come back, Chloe wouldn’t be feeling so insecure and terrified of losing us!” “Falling down the stairs… she must be in so much pain…” Liam’s eyes grew red. He shot me a look of pure hatred and ordered his driver to take him to the hospital. I honestly didn’t expect this. Even with irrefutable proof of my innocence, no one stood on my side. I couldn’t help but sigh. Blood ties really were nothing compared to fifteen years of companionship. Maria walked over to comfort me, saying the two siblings grew up together and were very close, and told me not to take it to heart. I shook my head. There was nothing to be sad about. I had predicted all of this anyway. Once you mentally rehearse a tragedy in your head beforehand, it doesn’t hurt when it actually happens. That evening, I stood by the window and watched Chloe arrive home, riding on my father’s back, flanked protectively by my mother and brother. Chloe looked up and met my gaze. She offered a triumphant smirk and said loudly, “Mom, Dad, Liam… promise me I’m still the one you love the most.” My parents immediately nodded in agreement. “Of course, of course. We love our Chloe the most.” “Don’t ever do anything silly like that again. Even with Maya back, our love for you will never change.” [Chapter 2] My mother came to my room to discuss transferring me to Chloe’s class at the elite prep school. “With your sister there, I’ll feel much better knowing someone is looking out for you.” Maybe it was because of the cameras in the house. Lately, Chloe hadn’t pulled any stunts. In fact, she pretended to be incredibly caring toward me. Even though there were five chicken drumsticks on the dinner table, she insisted on placing her piece into my bowl. Looking at me with faux concern, she said: “My sister suffered out there for fifteen years because of me. I want to give you my piece of chicken. I’ll just eat some of the broth.” Her fake, overly-dramatic acting made me lose my appetite, but my parents and my cheap older brother ate it right up. Every time Chloe gave up something nice for me, my mother would say approvingly, “Our Chloe has grown up so much. She’s really acting like a big sister.” Liam would loudly defend her: “Chloe, this wasn’t your fault! Here, take my chicken.” I pursed my lips and asked with genuine concern, “Is the Sterling family going bankrupt? Why are we passing a single piece of chicken around like we’re starving?” My dad slammed his chopsticks down. “Watch your mouth! Maya, Chloe is extending an olive branch. It’s bad enough you don’t appreciate it, but to say our family is going bankrupt? How ungrateful can you be!” I looked down at the chicken drumstick in my bowl, which was completely covered in spicy chili oil. “I’m not eating this,” I said coldly. They could never remember that I couldn’t eat spicy food. The entire table was filled with Chloe’s favorite spicy stir-fries. Thinking I was just throwing a tantrum, my dad started yelling at me. Chloe added fuel to the fire. “Dad… Maya hasn’t taken a single bite. Let me get her a new bowl of rice. I don’t care if she yells at me or hits me. After all, I stole fifteen years of her life. It’s only right that she hates me.” “Don’t you dare! Let her starve!” And so I actually starved for two days, right up until Grandmother Sterling came to visit and noticed how terrible I looked. She scolded my father relentlessly. “You are so cruel! This is your own flesh and blood!” My dad hurriedly explained, “Mom, we haven’t mistreated Maya! Ask her yourself. Maya, have we mistreated you?” I looked at the sea of red, spicy dishes on the dining table and stated calmly, “I can’t eat spicy food.” My dad froze. But Liam said dismissively, “Just rinse it in some water. Why are you acting like such a victim?” He was right. I didn’t feel like a victim at all, because no one cared about my feelings anyway. Even though I told my mom I didn’t want to be in Chloe’s class, she still insisted I give it a try. She told me not to be so pessimistic. We were family, and Chloe would never hurt me. But on my third day of school, I was framed for stealing. “Maya, you were the only one in the classroom during P.E. Did you accidentally take Brittany’s necklace?” Chloe walked over, her face a mask of worry. “It wasn’t me,” I shook my head, but the surrounding students looked at me with clear disbelief. As a transfer student, I was already easily ostracized, let alone with Chloe actively fanning the flames. Originally, no one suspected me, until Chloe started dropping leading comments one by one. “I heard she used to pick through the trash.” “No wonder she smells.” “Isn’t she Chloe’s sister?” “They say she’s a sister, but who knows? They look nothing alike.” Because my parents were afraid Chloe would feel slighted, they never publicly announced my true identity. This led everyone to believe Chloe was the biological daughter, and I was just some distant, poor relative of the Sterling family. Hearing this, I replied, “I am not Chloe’s sister.” “Her biological mother swapped us at birth, leaving me homeless for fifteen years. I have absolutely no relation to Chloe. I am the true daughter of the Sterling family.” Chloe’s face drained of color. She looked as if she might faint, her tears falling gracefully. The next second, someone slapped me across the face. “Maya Sterling! I can’t believe this is how you bully Chloe when adults aren’t around. You disgust me!” [Chapter 3] Liam glared at me with absolute loathing, then pulled Chloe into his arms, comforting her gently. His attitude indirectly influenced how my classmates viewed me. “Do you really believe anything Maya says?” “I bet she’s not just a thief, she’s a pathological liar.” “Exactly! If Maya was Liam’s biological sister, why would he slap her?” Seeing this, Chloe sniffled. “Maya… I know you hate me. But Brittany’s necklace is worth tens of thousands of dollars. We really need to get to the bottom of this.” “Tens of thousands of dollars?” I looked up, genuinely surprised. Brittany glared at me. “Yes! So give it back right now, or I’m going to search your bag!” I pulled out my phone and dialed 911 directly. “Hello, police? My classmate lost a piece of jewelry worth tens of thousands of dollars. Yes, Elite Prep School, Junior Class A.” From dialing to hanging up, it took less than thirty seconds. Chloe shrieked, “Why did you call the police?!” “A highly valuable item was stolen. Why wouldn’t I call the police?” “Or… did you guys personally see me steal it, which is why you’re so absolutely certain it’s in my bag?” The police arrived. So did my parents and Brittany’s mother. “Why did you bring my expensive necklace to school in the first place?!” Brittany’s mom scolded her angrily. Brittany glanced at Chloe, and, staying incredibly loyal, didn’t sell her out. Instead, she firmly insisted that I had stolen it. I took out my little notebook, checked off the “Framed for stealing” box, and looked up at my mother. “Mom, didn’t you say the bad things I predicted would never happen?” My mother froze for a moment, then gripped my shoulders and stated firmly, “Exactly. My daughter has everything she could ever want. She has no reason to steal from anyone.” It was the first time I had ever felt what it was like to be trusted. Tears threatened to well up in my eyes. But under Brittany’s aggressive demands, the police still searched my bag. And they actually found her necklace inside. The room erupted in gasps. My dad whipped around and slapped me hard across the face. It was even harder than Liam’s slap. My ears were ringing. He pointed a trembling finger at the necklace, his lips quivering. “You said you didn’t steal it! Then tell me what the hell that is?!” Liam chimed in sarcastically, “Maya, have you still not shaken off those filthy habits you picked up from the streets?” “Maya… did you really take it?” More than my father’s slap, the doubt and crushing disappointment in my mother’s eyes pierced my heart. The police officer stopped my dad, noting that there were no fingerprints on the necklace and warning them not to condemn a child so quickly. Chloe immediately spoke up. “Oh… no wonder you have a pair of gloves in your backpack. You wore them so you wouldn’t leave prints.” Everyone looked at me with deep contempt and disgust. I didn’t bother explaining. I simply unclipped a barrette from my hair and handed it to the police officer. “This is my micro-camera. You can check the footage.” The video clearly showed that I hadn’t taken a single step near Brittany’s desk. On the contrary, she had paraded the necklace in front of me several times. When I went to the restroom, I took off my hair clip and left it in my pencil case. The screen on the playback was pitch black, but the audio was crystal clear. “Will this work? Will people actually believe she stole it?” “Of course they will. Once Maya is branded a thief, she’ll be completely ostracized.” “Okay… but you have to promise I’ll get my necklace back. If I lose it, my mom will kill me.” “Relax. If we can’t get it back, I’ll buy you ten just like it.” Chloe and Brittany’s conversation was recorded perfectly. Their faces instantly drained of color. Brittany was dragged over by her ear by her mother to apologize to me. Chloe hid in Liam’s arms, trembling uncontrollably. In disbelief, my mother raised her hand to strike Chloe, but Liam blocked her. “Mom, if you want to hit someone, hit me!” My mother wept, her hand dropping limply to her side. “Chloe, why would you do this to your sister? She is my biological daughter!” Chloe sobbed, claiming she had a momentary lapse in judgment and promising she would never do it again. And just like that, the issue was “peacefully resolved.” I was the only one standing there with a swollen, red handprint on my face, looking utterly ridiculous. My dad stepped forward awkwardly, trying to pull me into a hug. I took a step back, my gaze sweeping coldly across their faces, and stated my demand: “I want to transfer classes.” [Chapter 4] After realizing they had wronged me, my parents started treating me with extreme caution. I saw my mom keeping a memo on her phone of all my likes and dislikes. Even Liam started showing concern. When he came home, he’d remember to bring me a gift. The dining table was finally filled with dishes I could actually eat. I pulled out my little notebook less and less. Slowly, I began to open up, telling my parents about my past. When I told them how Chloe’s biological mother abandoned me in the mountains, and how I was found by an old woman—my Nana Rose—gathering firewood, my mom held me tight, crying onto my shoulder. She promised she would never let me get hurt again. They organized a lavish Welcome Home Gala for me, inviting countless high-society elites to formally introduce me. My parents stood on either side of me on the stage, holding my hands, ready to make the announcement. Suddenly, the massive screen behind us flickered. The heartwarming slideshow of my baby photos was cut off. Chloe’s face appeared on the screen. She gave a weak, fragile smile: “Mom, Dad… I know my sister suffered out there for fifteen years. It’s only right that you treat her well. It doesn’t matter if I’m neglected…” Through tears, she poured out all her grievances. She was truly a master manipulator. In just a few minutes, she painted herself as the understanding, unloved child, and framed me as the arrogant, demanding monster who had ruined the family. Then, she offered a tragic smile. “Mom, Dad, I don’t want to make things hard for you. I just hope that in my next life, I can be your real daughter.” A razor blade pressed against her wrist. Blood spilled out. My mother let out a hysterical scream. “No! Chloe!” The ballroom erupted into absolute chaos. My parents dropped my hands and frantically pulled out their phones. I stood frozen on the stage, instinctively reaching into my bag for my little notebook to check off a box. I… I actually had predicted that the fake daughter would use a suicide attempt to force me out. Liam lunged forward, snatching the notebook from my hands and ripping it to shreds. His eyes were bloodshot as he glared at me: “At a time like this, you’re still playing with your stupid notebook?!” “Maya, do you have no heart at all?! Haven’t we treated you well enough lately? Why did you have to push Chloe to suicide?!” Feeling the disgusted, judgmental, and curious stares of all the guests, I took a deep breath and defended myself. “I never pushed her. She’s the one who couldn’t tolerate my existence.” “Enough! Both of you shut up!” my dad snapped, glaring at me. I could read his eyes perfectly. He was thinking that he wished he had never brought me back. Then, all three of them rushed off to find Chloe, abandoning me completely alone on the stage. I don’t know how I made it back home. All I knew was that when I opened my phone, I was the number one trending topic online. [True Heiress of the Sterling Family Bullies Adopted Sister into Suicide After Returning] Clueless netizens flooded the comments, attacking me, calling me evil. They even found my personal accounts, dug up my selfies, and photoshopped them into funeral portraits. When I went to school, people threw rotten eggs at me. After someone dumped a bucket of red paint on me, I stood trembling and called my mother, begging her to release a statement to clear my name. But my mom just said, “Maya, Chloe’s mental state is very fragile right now. Let’s wait until she recovers to discuss your situation, okay?” “But Mom, you know I didn’t do any of the things the internet is accusing me of!” Liam shouted at me through the phone: “Chloe literally slit her wrists! Do you have any empathy?! So what if you’re getting some hate online? If you’re truly innocent, you shouldn’t care what people say!” The call hung up. My face was already drenched in tears. The phone rang again. My mother pleaded, “Maya, please just come to the hospital and apologize to Chloe. If you don’t, she refuses to eat. She hasn’t eaten anything since last night.” I didn’t say a single word. I silently hung up and blocked all their numbers. I packed my things and left that house without a second of hesitation.

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1 I was about to sign a crucial contract when my phone buzzed with an unknown number. “Do not sign that contract. Your girlfriend bribed the client to hide massive legal traps in the clauses.” “If you sign it, you will go to prison and be saddled with millions in debt. Your best friend will take your promotion and marry your girlfriend.” “By the time you get out of prison, their kid will be in kindergarten, and they will mock you for being a broke ex-con.” A cold chill ran down my spine. “Who is this?” The line went dead. Was this a malicious prank by a rival firm, or… were the two people closest to me really plotting my downfall? My mind swirling with doubt, I arrived at the client’s office, deciding to carefully review the contract before doing anything else. The moment I opened the first page, my girlfriend, Sarah, impatiently urged me on. “Didn’t we verify everything a few days ago? Stop stalling and just sign it!” I twirled the Montblanc pen in my hand, speaking slowly. “Sarah, reviewing the clauses carefully before signing is basic common sense in our industry, isn’t it?” “When you sign your own contracts, you usually spend at least an hour double-checking every single line.” Realizing she had slipped up, Sarah softened her tone. “This is different! We’ve worked with Mr. Davis so many times. By scrutinizing it like this, you’re blatantly showing you don’t trust him.” Mr. Davis’s face darkened on cue. “If Mr. Sterling doesn’t trust my company, I can always find another partner.” I clearly caught Sarah shooting Mr. Davis a subtle, knowing look. My heart turned to ice. On the drive over, I had tried to convince myself the phone call was just a sick joke. But Sarah’s desperate behavior confirmed every word. The call was real. This contract was definitely a death trap. I glanced at Liam, sitting to my right, and pushed the folder toward him with a smile. “Bro, I felt bad about not giving you that lead last time.” “Why don’t you take this account? Consider it my apology.” “The commission on this one is twenty grand more than the last. I’m a pretty good friend, right?” I locked eyes with Liam. He had pestered me endlessly, complaining about his low salary and lack of clients, begging me to throw some accounts his way. Sometimes I agreed, sometimes I refused. Whenever I said yes, he would smile so wide his face looked like it might split in half. But right now, there was no smile. Only sheer panic. Snapping back to reality, Liam shoved the contract back at me as if it were a live grenade. “No need, man. I couldn’t possibly steal your client.” My gaze drifted down to his wrist. When Sarah came back from her business trip last month, I noticed a new luxury smartwatch in her bag. I thought it was an early birthday gift for me. Not wanting to ruin her surprise, I quietly put it back. That exact smartwatch was currently strapped to Liam’s wrist. The pen slipped from my fingers, hitting the mahogany table with a sharp clack. As I bent down to pick it up, I smoothed my expression into a mask of calm. “Why so polite all of a sudden? Weren’t you just begging me for two accounts last…” Sarah’s irritated voice cut me off. “Arthur, just sign the damn contract! What are you dawdling for?” “Stop pretending to be the generous guy. When you fought tooth and nail for the Director promotion, why didn’t you offer to step aside for him?” “Fought tooth and nail?” I stared dead at Sarah. “I was the top performer in sales for five consecutive years. Earning a promotion is considered fighting tooth and nail?” Sarah interrupted me again, her patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough with the nonsense. You love money more than anything, so just sign it.” I uncapped the pen and hovered the tip over the signature line. Sarah and Liam stared at my hand, completely holding their breath. I didn’t sign. Using my left hand, I flipped to the next page. “I’ll sign it when I’m done reading.” Sarah shot up from her chair. “Are you doing this on purpose, Arthur? What are you trying to pull?” I looked up at her. “I’m trying to read the contract.” “The real question is, why are you trying so hard to stop me from reading it? What are you hiding?” Liam subtly shook his head at Sarah. She forced herself to calm down. “I’m not stopping you from reading it. I just want to lock this deal in! I’m worried you’re going to offend Mr. Davis. What if he backs out?” Mr. Davis immediately played his part, pretending to pack his briefcase. “Forget it. That rep from Apex is still trying to get a meeting with me.” I stopped him. “Give me exactly one minute. I’ll skim through every page.” Mr. Davis looked at Sarah, then nodded reluctantly. “One minute. That’s it.” I rapidly flipped through the document, pausing for only a few seconds on each page. It wasn’t enough time to actually read the fine print, but it was enough to capture the evidence. They were so frantic they didn’t even notice I was wearing glasses today—something I, with perfect 20/20 vision, never did. As I hit the last page, Sarah eagerly pressed, “Can you sign it now?” I capped my pen, slid it into my briefcase, and pushed the contract back to Mr. Davis. “Mr. Davis, I won’t be signing this today. You are free to take your business elsewhere.” Mr. Davis froze, completely forgetting to maintain his act. Sarah and Liam stared at me in utter disbelief. I stood up and walked out. Sarah chased after me, refusing to give up. “Arthur, what is the meaning of this?” “We negotiated everything! Why are you backing out?” “Is this how you show responsibility to the company?” “Go back in there, apologize to Mr. Davis, and sign the damn contract!” I ignored her completely and headed straight back to the corporate headquarters. As luck would have it, Chairman Vance was visiting from the main branch. “How did it go, Arthur? Did we lock in the Davis account?” Sarah chimed in before I could answer. “No, Chairman Vance. I don’t know what’s wrong with Arthur today, but he flat-out refused to sign.” “By now, Mr. Davis has probably already signed with our competitors.” Chairman Vance’s expression instantly darkened. “What is going on here, Arthur? Do you have any idea how crucial this deal is for the firm? Why did you refuse to sign?” “The bulk of our quarterly profits relies on this single account!” “Explain yourself right now!” I kept my voice calm. “Chairman Vance, I can’t explain it right now.” It wasn’t the right time. Without concrete proof, even if I exposed the traps in the contract, Sarah and the others would deny everything and shift the blame entirely. Hearing my answer, Chairman Vance’s face turned thunderous. “What kind of attitude is that, Arthur?” “You can’t explain it? Ridiculous. If you can’t explain your actions, pack your desk and get out!” “Sarah, start reviewing the candidates. We are promoting a new Director!” I nodded, turned around, and walked back to my cubicle to pack my things. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Liam’s reaction. He didn’t look thrilled about my firing; he actually looked panicked. Sarah quickly plastered on a desperate smile, practically begging the Chairman. “Chairman Vance, please don’t be angry. Arthur has been with us for five years. You know how capable he is.” “Could you please give him one more chance to redeem himself?” “Handle it yourself!” Chairman Vance stormed off, fuming. I raised an eyebrow. Things were not playing out the way I had assumed. Logically, if the Chairman fired me, Sarah—as the branch manager—could easily promote Liam to the Director position. But my termination didn’t make them happy. They actively begged the Chairman to keep me on. Did they really need me to end up bankrupt and in prison to be satisfied? I had a creeping suspicion there was a deeper, more sinister plot at play. That evening, the office emptied out. Sarah and Liam left together. Neither of them asked me to join them. It hit me then that this had been the norm for a long time. When the clock struck five, they always left together in perfect sync. I used to pack my things in a rush just to catch up with them in the lobby. When I stayed late working overtime, they never checked on me. They never waited for me. Without realizing it, I had long become the third wheel in my own life. Soon, I was the only one left on the floor. I walked over to Sarah’s desk and noticed she had enabled fingerprint security on her computer. She was actively guarding against me. I had taken advanced cybersecurity electives in college; bypassing a basic login screen would have been child’s play. But Sarah had seemingly forgotten that when she was a new hire, she was constantly late. She made me create a silicone mold of her fingerprint so I could clock in for her. Even when the company upgraded to facial recognition, that silicone mold stayed hidden in my wallet. I pulled it out and gently pressed it against the scanner. The screen blinked to life. Her desktop messaging app was still running. I clicked straight into her chat history with Liam. Liam: [What do we do? He didn’t sign it. We can’t pin the blame on him now.] [When the auditors check the books, they’re going to trace it back to me!] [I don’t want to go to jail! My life will be over!] Sarah: [Don’t panic. I’m having someone forge the financial reports as we speak.] [When the board reviews the quarterly profits, we’ll pin that missing money entirely on him. We’ll claim it’s the financial loss caused by him blowing the Davis deal.] [When the dust settles, the debt will be entirely his, and the firm won’t be able to touch you.] Liam: [Thank you. You’re amazing.] Sarah: [Why are you thanking your own wife?] Wife? My hand trembled violently around the mouse. Even though I had mentally prepared myself, seeing the ugly truth laid bare in black and white still felt like a physical blow to the chest. I could barely breathe. I scrolled further up their chat history. They had been carrying on this disgusting affair behind my back for over two years. When I was bedridden with a severe flu, Liam braved the blistering summer heat to come to my apartment and cook soup for me. But that exact same night, he and Sarah went to an expensive romantic restaurant for a date, and he took her back to his place afterward. The next morning, she rode to work with him in his car, claiming they had just bumped into each other on the road. The dates, the timestamps, the location pins in their chat logs—they took every warm, genuine memory I cherished and branded it as a sickening performance. While I was drowning in what I thought was true friendship and deep love, they were laughing in bed, calling me an absolute idiot. I opened Sarah’s local files and found the problematic contract they were referring to. It was a deal Liam had rushed into signing a few months ago, desperate to outshine me when the Director position opened up. But the contract was a complete disaster. It was riddled with impossible clauses the company could never fulfill. The client sued for a million dollars in damages. Sarah had quietly embezzled company funds to pay them off. The only reason they wanted me to make a catastrophic error was so they could use the chaos to pin that missing million-dollar hole squarely on my shoulders. I shut down the computer and left the building. I had all the evidence I needed. The next day, I went to work acting like absolutely nothing had happened. Sarah was buried in her spreadsheets, her brow furrowing and relaxing as she worked. Finally, on the last day of the month, she submitted the Q2 financial reports to the board of directors. The moment she hit send, she marched over to my cubicle, her voice trembling with manufactured rage. “Arthur, do you have any idea how much money the firm bled this quarter? Three million dollars!” “And it’s entirely your fault for blowing the Davis contract!” “The board of directors is on their way down here right now. You better figure out how you’re going to explain this to them!” Every eye in the office snapped toward me. Some looked shocked, others whispered amongst themselves, and in the corner, two people were clearly holding back snickers. I didn’t say a word. I simply picked up my mug and took a slow sip of water. Heavy, urgent footsteps echoed behind me. Chairman Vance’s icy voice cut through the tension. “Everyone. Conference room. Now.” Inside the glass-walled room, the board members sat with grim, furious expressions. “A three-million-dollar deficit. Manager Sarah, you owe this board an explanation.” Sarah nodded frantically, pointing an accusing, heartbroken finger at me. “It’s him! Arthur caused all of this!” “To secure the Davis contract, we preemptively purchased all the raw materials. But Arthur purposely blew the deal.” “Those materials have a short shelf life. They expired and had to be written off in just two weeks! That’s what caused this massive, catastrophic loss!” The board members stared at the forged financial reports in front of them and nodded in grim agreement. Chairman Vance lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Arthur, according to these financials, this three-million-dollar loss is a direct result of your negligence regarding the Davis account. As per company policy, you are personally liable for these damages.” “Considering your past performance, if you can secure three million dollars within the next three months, I will consider dropping the criminal charges.” “If you fail, our legal team will see you in court.” “Once the judge hands down a sentence, it will be entirely out of my hands.” I met the Chairman’s gaze with absolute calm. “Chairman Vance, I refuse to pay a single cent.” “Because I haven’t done anything wrong.” The entire board erupted in fury, slamming their hands on the mahogany table. “You did nothing wrong? Then where did this massive deficit come from?” “Chairman Vance, send him to prison! Look at his arrogant attitude! He burns millions of our capital and acts like this?” Liam reached out and tugged at my sleeve, playing the role of the concerned best friend perfectly. “Bro, why are you being so stubborn? Just admit you messed up.” “Nobody is perfect. Just take this as an expensive lesson and move on.” “I know three million is a massive number, but you can always ask Apex for help! You purposely sabotaged the Davis deal so Apex could snatch it. They owe you a massive favor…” Hearing Liam’s words, the board’s fury boiled over into absolute rage. “What?! You tanked the Davis deal for Apex? Arthur, this firm pays your salary!” “Prison! Chairman Vance, he needs to be locked up immediately!” Liam quickly covered his mouth, feigning absolute panic. “Oh God, did I say too much? I didn’t mean to…” “Bro, please, just confess before they actually send you to jail!” His face was a mask of sheer terror, but the corners of his mouth were twitching, desperately fighting back a triumphant smirk. I looked at him with cold amusement. “Are you done performing? Is it my turn to speak now?” Liam froze for a second, then forced tears into his eyes. “What are you talking about, Arthur? I’m genuinely terrified for you…” I raised an eyebrow. “Then you can relax. I’m not going to prison.” Sarah scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Still this arrogant? You nearly bankrupted the firm! Even a lifetime in prison won’t cover what you owe us!” I stood up and faced the furious board members. “Gentlemen, I fully admit that I intentionally refused to sign the Davis contract.” “However, I did it to protect this firm.” The board members slammed the table again. “Protect the firm? You threw away a multi-million dollar account and call that protecting us?” Sarah’s face darkened menacingly. “Arthur, do you hear the garbage coming out of your mouth? A ten-million-dollar contract, and you just decide not to sign it? How does that protect us? Were you trying to protect us from making a profit?” I turned slowly, locking eyes with Sarah. “Manager Sarah, I’d actually like to ask you a question. Why were you badgering me so relentlessly to sign the contract that day?” Sarah frowned. “What do you mean? I wanted to lock in a massive deal for the company!” I laughed. “No, you were terrified I was going to actually read the fine print and find the trap.” Sarah froze. “Wh-what nonsense are you spouting?” I turned back to the board. “The reason I refused the Davis contract is because it was a legal landmine.” “And that landmine was carefully planted by Sarah herself.” A flash of genuine panic crossed Sarah’s eyes before she pointed at me, screeching in defensive rage. “Arthur, you are like a rabid dog biting anyone in sight! What landmine? You lost the deal, so now you’re trying to claim the contract was rigged?” “Fine! If the contract was rigged, where is your proof? Show us the trap! Where is it?” “Oh, wait, let me guess. Because you didn’t sign it, you didn’t bring the original copy back with you, so you have absolutely zero evidence to back up your pathetic lies?” I didn’t say a word. I just stood there, staring at her. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a victorious smirk, and she tilted her head at me mockingly. Meeting her arrogant gaze, I smiled softly. “Evidence? Of course I have evidence.” “In fact… I have a mountain of it.” I pulled a sleek USB drive from my pocket and twirled it between my fingers.

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1 I possess an ability I can never speak of out loud. Whenever I get intimate with my girlfriend, I can see exactly what she was doing one hour prior. In the past, the visions were always sweet. I would see her secretly buying lingerie to surprise me. I would see her standing in the kitchen, carefully following a recipe to make my favorite chicken noodle soup from scratch. Sometimes, I would see her standing in front of a mirror, nervously adjusting her dress and practicing how she was going to propose to me. We have been in love for seven years, and for seven years, her past hour had always revolved around me. Until three days before our wedding. When she leaned in to kiss me, a scene suddenly flashed before my eyes. In a dimly lit lounge, she had my best friend, Declan, pinned against the door. Declan turned his head, his voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “We can’t keep doing this!” “Adam is my best buddy. I can’t do this to him…” Annie reached down and undid his belt, her voice incredibly husky. “I am marrying him in three days.” “Let’s just treat this as one last wild indulgence.” The image vanished as quickly as it came. In reality, Annie was still resting in my arms, pressing a gentle kiss to my cheek. “Adam, we are getting married so soon.” “Are you happy?” I looked into her deeply affectionate eyes and let out a quiet, hollow laugh. So, after all these years, a third person had finally appeared in her hour. … After she spoke, she leaned down to kiss me again. Her lips brushed against my face, the gesture just as tender as it had been countless times before. It even carried a hint of that lingering, pre-wedding romance. But my entire body went rigid. The next second, another vision flashed before my eyes. Declan’s dress shirt was unbuttoned at the collar. A faint smudge of lipstick was smeared near the corner of his mouth. He was leaning against Annie, chuckling low in his chest. “Adam is way too skinny.” “I went with him to his tuxedo fitting yesterday, and I swear, his shoulders and chest couldn’t even fill out the jacket.” Annie let out a soft laugh. “He is too thin.” “Every time I hug him, it feels like holding a bag of bones.” Declan immediately frowned, pretending to defend my honor. “How can you say that about him?” “Adam is my best friend.” But right after he said it, he shifted his body closer to hers, his tone laced with blatant provocation. “What about me, then?” “How is my physique? Do I feel good when you hold me?” Annie did not answer. Instead, her hand, which was resting against his skin, slowly tightened its grip. That silence was more deafening than any answer she could have given. Declan laughed. “Forget it. I won’t fight Adam for you.” “He has been waiting for you for seven years. It’s actually kind of pathetic.” The vision violently snapped shut. In the present, Annie was still holding me. A freezing knot twisted in my stomach, and I finally could not stomach it anymore. I pushed her away. Caught off guard, Annie stumbled a half-step back. She frowned, looking at me with concern. “Adam?” “What is wrong?” I raised a hand, pressing it against my chest, and shook my head. My face was already pale as a sheet. Just then, the sound of the digital keypad echoing from the front door broke the silence. A second later, the door was pushed open from the outside. Declan walked in wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts. A faint, woody cologne drifted off him. It was the exact same sandalwood and cedar scent Annie wore. He smiled effortlessly. “Adam, man, my water heater just completely died on me.” “Figured since you guys live so close, I would come over and borrow your shower.” I stared at him. For the first time in our friendship, my face was entirely devoid of warmth. “Declan, do you really think it is appropriate to walk into my house dressed like that?” Declan froze. Quickly, he ducked his head and offered a sheepish laugh. “My bad.” “I spent so much time living over in Europe, I guess I stopped paying attention to boundaries like that.” Annie stepped right in front of him, practically shielding him from my gaze. “Adam, come on. Declan lived abroad for years. He is just used to being casual.” “He doesn’t mean anything by it. Stop overthinking it.” Watching her instinctively protect him, I found the whole situation utterly laughable. Of course I knew Declan had lived in Europe. Because I was the one who paid to send him there. Back then, he could not afford his first year of tuition. I emptied my savings account, taking every dime I had scraped together for two years, and wired it all to him. On the day he left for the airport, Declan hugged me so hard I could barely breathe. “Adam, you are the best brother I could ever ask for.” “When I get back, I am absolutely going to be your best man.” Later on, Annie frequently flew overseas for business trips. I had specifically pulled her aside and begged her for a favor. “Declan is all alone over there. He doesn’t know the language or the city.” “When you have some free time, could you check on him for me?” Back then, Annie just ruffled my hair and laughed, calling me too soft-hearted. I laughed with her. I honestly thought their only connection was through me. But eventually, every time Annie flew to that city, she went out of her way to see him. At first, she would send me photos to check in. “The grocery stores near Declan’s campus close so early. I brought him some supplies.” “Declan is really stressed about his thesis. I’m taking him out to dinner.” But as time went on, Annie began appearing frequently on Declan’s social media. She dragged his luggage for him. She sat with him in waiting rooms at the clinic. Even on his graduation day, the person standing right next to him in his photos was Annie. It wasn’t that I never felt a twinge of discomfort. But every single time, I reminded myself that Declan was my best buddy. And Annie was only looking out for him because she loved me. It was only now that I finally understood. Boundaries are never crossed overnight. It happens one small step at a time. Declan was still standing in the entryway, his expression neutral. “Adam, if it bothers you that much, I will just leave right now.” He said he would leave, but his feet remained firmly planted on the hardwood floor. Annie frowned deeply. “It is already so late, and your water heater is broken. Where else are you going to shower?” “Just go wash up.” I did not say another word. My eyes simply dropped to Declan’s wrist. He was wearing a luxury watch. A few days ago, I had stumbled across the receipt for it in Annie’s home office. The price tag was more than ten times the cost of the wedding band she had bought for me. At the time, I assumed it was a surprise wedding gift Annie had prepared for me. I had been secretly anticipating it for days. I even imagined how happy I would be when she strapped it onto my wrist on our wedding day. But now, that watch was resting on Declan’s wrist. I looked down at the wedding band on my own hand. It was simple, unadorned, and very cheap. When Annie first slipped it onto my finger, she said, “A ring doesn’t have to be expensive. It is the meaning behind it that matters.” I had been genuinely moved for a very long time. I thought she just wasn’t the romantic type. I thought she valued meaning over materialism. Now I knew the truth. The meaning, it seemed, depended entirely on who was receiving the gift. Declan kept his head down and walked into the living room. As he brushed past me, the smell of that cologne hit me even harder. My fingers slowly curled into tight fists. Yet he acted as if everything was perfectly normal, striding toward our master bathroom with the confidence of someone who lived here. Annie opened a cabinet and pulled out a brand-new bath towel, handing it to him. It was one of the matching towels I had just bought for our married life. A grey and white set. I had planned for us to use them together for the first time after the wedding. Declan took it without a second thought. “You always pay attention to the details.” “Adam really trained you well.” Annie’s tone was incredibly soft, whispering a gentle reminder to him. “Be careful. The floor gets slippery.” Once the bathroom door clicked shut, the sound of running water started immediately. Standing in the middle of the living room, I suddenly felt like an intruder in my own home. This was supposed to be the home Annie and I built for our future. Yet Declan knew the door code. He walked in half-naked. He used the towels I bought for my wedding. He wore the watch I thought was meant for me. And Annie didn’t find a single thing wrong with any of it. She even walked over to me, acting as if she finally had a spare moment to soothe my temper. “Adam, don’t read into it.” “You and Declan are so close. I only take care of him because of how much he means to you.” I did not look up. After a long, suffocating silence, I simply offered a quiet, “Okay.” Annie let out a visible sigh of relief. She probably thought I had been successfully pacified. The sound of the shower echoed from down the hall. I walked into our bedroom and shut the door behind me. My phone lit up. It was a message from our wedding planner. “Mr. Davis, we need your final approval on the welcome posters for the reception tonight.” I looked down and began typing. “Change the name.” The planner replied almost instantly. “Mr. Davis, do you mean the groom’s name on the poster?” I pulled the corner of my mouth into a bitter smile and typed out my response, word by word. “Yes.” “Change the groom to Declan.” The next morning, when I walked out of the bedroom, breakfast was already set on the dining table. Annie was standing near the kitchen island, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up. She looked completely unfazed, as if last night never happened. “You’re up?” “Did you sleep well?” I stared at the glass of warmed milk on the table, my mind drifting for a split second. I had always suffered from stomach issues. Annie would always take the milk out of the fridge half an hour early to warm it up. She always said that drinking it too hot would hurt my stomach, and drinking it too cold would do the same. Back then, I always thought to myself, if someone remembers the exact temperature you like your milk, how could they not love you? Now, she still remembered these tiny details. But I could no longer tell the difference. Was it love? Or was it just a habit she had formed over seven years? Annie pushed a velvet watch box across the table toward me. “I saw you staring at Declan’s watch last night.” “My Adam deserves a decent watch, too.” She spoke with such tenderness, her eyes overflowing with what looked like genuine affection. I glanced at the watch. It wasn’t the same luxury brand as Declan’s. The design was similar. But the price tag was drastically lower. Annie walked up behind me and began adjusting my shirt collar. She tilted her head up. The moment her soft lips brushed against the back of my neck, a violent flash of imagery ripped through my mind. The bright, blinding lights of a jewelry store. Declan was sitting at the display counter. A watch was resting in front of him. It was the exact same watch Annie was handing me right now. Declan picked it up and strapped it onto his wrist. He stared at it in the mirror for a few seconds before frowning. “It is too plain. The dial is too small, and the metal strap scratches my wrist.” “I don’t want it.” He unbuckled it and casually tossed it back onto the glass counter. But Annie didn’t let the sales associate put it away. She stared at the watch for a moment before speaking in a flat tone. “Box it up.” Declan paused, then smirked. “Giving it to Adam?” Annie gave a vague hum of agreement. “He was sulking last night. I’ll buy a watch to shut him up.” Declan immediately frowned, playing the part of the concerned friend perfectly. “Don’t just brush him off like that.” “Adam is my best friend, you know.” Annie let out a small laugh. “He won’t care.” “As long as I give it to him, he will love it.” Declan picked the watch back up, dangling it from his fingertips. “True.” “Adam was never a picky guy.” “Back in the day, whenever I mailed him my old, worn-out suits, he would happily wear them to the office.” In the vision, Annie did not argue. She simply handed her credit card to the cashier. My breathing hitched in my chest. During Declan’s first few years abroad, he constantly complained about not having enough money to survive. Terrified he was starving in a foreign country, I lived on instant ramen just to wire him extra cash. I refused to buy myself new clothes. Every now and then, Declan would mail me designer jackets he had outgrown or gotten bored of. I never once complained. I thought that was just how brothers looked out for each other. Only now did I finally understand. I had simply been conditioned to accept the things Declan threw away. The vision faded. The cold metal of the watch was already clasped around my wrist. Annie leaned close to my ear, her breath warm and intimate. “Do you like it?” I unbuckled the watch, placed it back in the velvet box, and spoke very softly. “The metal strap scratches my wrist.” Annie froze. She probably couldn’t fathom how I had just spoken the exact same words as Declan. But she quickly chalked my reaction up to a bad mood. She likely assumed I was still throwing a jealous fit over last night. She reached out and patted my shoulder. “The wedding is in two days.” “Don’t make yourself miserable.” I looked down and smiled. She thought I was unhappy because I was jealous. But she had no idea. I didn’t even have the energy left to be jealous. My phone lit up on the table. It was a text from the wedding planner. “Mr. Davis, we need to finalize the schedule for the ceremony tonight.” “Are there any additional segments you would like to include?” I stared at the glowing text on the screen. After a long moment, I typed my reply. “Yes.” “Right before the ceremony officially begins, I want to add a segment where I read my vows.” On the day of the wedding, I arrived at the luxury hotel venue as scheduled. While the stylist was adjusting my tuxedo, she smiled brightly. “You look incredibly handsome today, Mr. Davis.” I looked at my reflection in the mirror. I really did look like a groom full of hope, ready to marry the love of his life. But I was the only one who knew the truth. Today’s wedding wasn’t about marrying Annie. It was about delivering her and Declan the ultimate gift. When the stylist picked up my necktie, her hands suddenly stopped. “Mr. Davis, this tie…” I glanced over. The edge of the tie was crumpled. And near the top, there was a faint, unmistakable smudge of lipstick. My fingers curled into a brutal, white-knuckled fist. That tie was sewn for me by my mother on her deathbed, stitch by agonizing stitch. She had been completely emaciated by the illness. She could barely hold the needle. Her hands shook violently with every movement. But she propped herself up in that hospital bed for an entire month. She carefully wove the intricate dark patterns and tiny silver threads into the lining of the fabric. She told me, “I probably won’t live to see my Adam get married.” “So let this tie walk down the aisle with you instead of me.” “When you put it on, just imagine your mother is holding your hand.” After my mother passed, I kept the tie locked in a pristine box. I barely even dared to touch it, afraid of ruining it. I had sent it to the hotel in advance. I even specifically warned the hotel staff to keep it in a secure, isolated garment bag. But now, it was wrinkled. And stained with someone else’s lipstick. The stylist looked incredibly uncomfortable. “Would you like me to try and treat the stain for you?” I stared at that piercing speck of red. After what felt like an eternity, I slowly shook my head. “No.” “Just leave it as it is.” The door swung open, and Annie walked in. She was wearing a stunning white bridal gown. Her makeup was flawless, her expression radiating warmth. If my eyes hadn’t been violently forced open to the truth. In this exact moment, my heart probably still would have skipped a beat. Annie stood behind me, meeting my eyes in the mirror. “Adam.” “You look so handsome today.” She reached out and adjusted the knot of my tie. With eyes full of deep longing, she cupped my face and leaned in for a kiss. The moment our breaths mingled. My vision plunged into darkness. In the vision, it was a bridal suite. Declan was leaning against the vanity. His dress shirt was entirely unbuttoned, and a smear of lipstick coated his mouth. My mother’s tie was draped loosely around his neck. Annie was looking down, fixing the collar of his shirt. “Annie, are you out of your mind?” Declan’s voice was low and heavy. “In less than an hour, you are walking down the aisle to marry Adam.” Annie looked up at him, her voice barely a whisper. “That is exactly why this has to be the last time.” Declan stayed quiet for a moment. “You say it is the last time every single time.” “But every time you see me, you just can’t keep your hands off.” Annie didn’t argue. Instead, she frantically reached for the buckle of his belt. As their bodies crashed together, she yanked the tie off his neck and blindly tossed it onto the sofa. One of the buttons on Declan’s shirt caught the edge of the fabric. A piece of the silver thread snapped, unraveling a small section. I stood paralyzed, rooted to the floor. In that split second, the last remaining pillar holding my sanity together completely shattered. They both knew. They both knew my dying mother had sewn that tie for me. On the day my mother passed away, both Annie and Declan were standing right by her hospital bed. Reduced to nothing but skin and bones, my mother had grabbed Annie’s hand and pleaded through tears. “I won’t be able to see my boy get married. Please, promise me you will love him enough for the both of us.” Annie had nodded with total conviction. “Don’t worry.” “I swear I will never let Adam suffer.” Declan had stood right beside her, his voice choking with emotion. “I promise you.” “I will always be there for Adam.” “On the day he gets married, I will watch over him for you.” But look at them now. One was my bride. The other was my best friend. And mere minutes before the wedding, they had crumpled and desecrated the last thing my mother ever gave me, just so they could do something so sickeningly vile. The vision violently cut out. In reality, Annie was still smoothing out the fabric of the tie. Outside the door, the MC knocked gently. “Annie, Mr. Davis, the ceremony is starting.” Annie reached her hand out to me. “Let’s go.” I stared at her outstretched hand. It was slender and clean. Years ago, when I was burning with a terrible fever, that exact hand had stayed up all night, swapping out cold towels on my forehead. But today, that hand had just finished buttoning Declan’s shirt. She had taken every ounce of devotion I ever gave her and crushed it into a pathetic joke. I placed my hand in hers. Annie led me out into the hallway. The grand double doors of the banquet hall slowly swung open. On stage, the MC smiled brightly at the crowd. “Before we officially begin the ceremony, the groom has specifically requested a moment to share his vows.” “Let’s all listen to what he has to say to his beautiful bride.” Annie turned her head, a flash of genuine surprise in her eyes. “When did you add this?” I smiled. “Last night.” I reached into the inner pocket of my tuxedo jacket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Down in the front row, Declan was sitting confidently in his tailored suit, looking up at me with a perfectly calm expression. He probably thought the wedding was going to go exactly as they planned. But neither of them knew. The speech I prepared. Was never about love. It was about ripping their reputations to shreds. Under the watchful eyes of Annie’s family and every person we knew, I slowly brought the microphone to my lips. “I want to thank Annie, and my absolute best friend, Declan.”

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1 It was day three hundred of my captivity under John Porter, the brilliantly unhinged billionaire, when a car crash wiped his memory. His personal secretary, upon finding me in the basement wearing solid gold ankle cuffs, practically shrieked in terror. He threw a cool hundred million dollars and a private jet my way just to keep me quiet: “The Porter Group’s global offices are yours to command, ma’am. Just please, for the love of God, don’t call the police!” So, I happily spent the next three years flying around the world. But the moment I set foot back in the country, I ran straight into my former captor at the airport. Before panic could even set in, his eyes drifted right past me. Just as I let out a breath of relief, a black sack was shoved over my head the second I walked out of the terminal. When I opened my eyes again, I was staring at a very familiar, floor-to-ceiling glass wine cellar. Right next to it was a handwritten note in sharp, elegant cursive: “Little bird, it was love at first sight. I will give you the world, on one condition: stay by my side.” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Even with amnesia, this man still had a type, and apparently, it was still me. I ended up laughing anyway. John, that beautiful psycho, had fully restocked the wine cellar. The last time I was here, I had drunk my way through his 1982 Lafite collection, leaving only three bottles. Now, the wall was packed to the brim. I even spotted a bottle of 1947 Cheval Blanc, a legendary vintage that had vanished after failing to sell at auction years ago. Next to the rack, a note was taped to the glass. His handwriting, sharp and pressing into the paper, read: “Don’t even think about running. Be a good girl and wait for me to come home.” A dry chuckle escaped my throat. I was actually amused. Three hundred days of being locked up by a madman, only for him to lose his memory in an accident. His panicked secretary handed me a fortune and a private jet just to keep the cops out of it. I spent three years living the high life across the globe, yet within three hours of landing back home, I was bagged, tagged, and brought right back to this gilded cage. I didn’t need three guesses to know who ordered this. Accepting my fate, I walked over to the cellar, pulled out the ’47 Cheval Blanc, and began searching for a corkscrew. If I was going to miss my welcome-home dinner because of a kidnapping, I might as well enjoy the finest wine on earth. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A sharp, grating voice shattered the silence. I turned around. A woman dressed in high fashion, perched on red-soled Louboutins, stood at the double doors. She glared at me, her chin tilted so high she was practically looking down her nose. Her eyes treated me like a piece of absolute trash. “Did you hear me?” she snapped, her brow furrowing. “I heard you,” I replied, slowly working the cork. “You asked what I’m doing.” “John is my fiancé. Our families are finalizing the alliance.” She stepped into the room, a smug, triumphant smile playing on her lips. “The match was handpicked by his grandmother, Mrs. Porter herself. Who do you think you are, lounging in this villa and touching his private reserve?” Ah. A match arranged by his family. No wonder she was acting like she owned the place. But accusing me of seduction? That was just uncalled for. I was the victim here. Before I could explain, she kept going. “If you know what’s good for you, take a check and get out. Touch what doesn’t belong to you, and you’ll find out how painful life can get.” I agreed instantly. “Deal. Let me out, and I’ll be gone before you can count to three.” I had millions in the bank and a jet waiting at the hangar. The world was huge, and there was plenty of good wine out there. But my cooperation only seemed to make Bianca furious. She slammed her hand against the glass of the wine cellar. “Leave? You wish. You crawl into his bed, and now you think you can just walk away?” “Kneel,” she demanded, drawing out the word. “Apologize. Right now, in front of the entire staff. Bow your head three times.” The smile faded from my face. I wasn’t angry, just a bit sorry for her. “About the kneeling…” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I wouldn’t push it if I were you. It won’t end well.” “Oh? And why is that?” I looked at her with pure, honest concern. “Because he will lose his mind.” “Who?” “John,” I sighed. “He’s obsessed with me. Pathologically so. The last time a chauffeur looked at me for a second too long, he disappeared the next day. His very name was wiped from the payroll.” “So, if you force me to kneel, and he comes home to see that…” I let the threat hang. “I honestly don’t want to think about what he’ll do to you. I’m telling you this for your own good.” Bianca stared at me in disbelief, then burst into a harsh, mocking laugh. “He’d lose his mind over you?” She laughed so hard her expensive jewelry clinked, her sharp nails nearly poking my cheek. “Look at yourself. Who do you think you are?” I kept quiet, letting a tiny, undeniable spark of anticipation settle in my chest. Meanwhile, the housekeepers standing near the door turned pale. One of them quietly slipped away, pulling out a phone and whispering urgently: “Mr. Harrison, you need to get back here right now. There’s going to be a bloodbath!” Bianca took my silence as submission. Her arrogance swelled, and she waved over two burly bodyguards. “Since she won’t kneel on her own,” she said, her tone as casual as ordering a salad, “make her.” “Break her legs if you have to. No one is going to miss a piece of trash like her.” The guards stepped forward, grabbing my shoulders with a grip that made me wince. I didn’t bother fighting back. They were professionals, and struggle was pointless. Besides, I caught the terrified look on the housekeeper’s face. The person on the other end of the line had clearly issued a severe warning. I wouldn’t have to lift a finger. “At least you’re smart enough not to struggle,” Bianca sneered, pacing around me as the guards forced me down. “Recognize your place yet?” “Listen to me. If you behave, maybe I’ll throw some pocket change your way after this so you can buy some dignity on your way out.” The guards pressed down, forcing my knees toward the cold marble floor. My knees hit the stone with a dull, painful thud. It hurt. I had spent three hundred days in the basement of this very house; I could handle a little physical pain. What truly amused me was Bianca’s increasingly dramatic performance. “Tell me,” she demanded, looking down at me. “How did you seduce my fiancé? Give me every detail. Leave one thing out, and my men will add another bruise.” I looked up, my expression perfectly flat. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” “Spit it out!” “Fine,” I said, my voice as dry as a financial report. “He kept me locked in the basement of this villa for three hundred days.” “He went through three different sets of ankle chains. The first was too heavy and chafed my skin, which broke his heart, so he replaced them with custom, velvet-lined gold cuffs.” “He hand-fed me every single meal. If I refused to eat, he would stay until he coaxed every bite down. When I said I wanted a drink, he moved his entire collection of vintage Lafite down to the cellar for me.” Bianca’s sneer flickered. I kept going, taking my time with each word. “Then he got into a car crash and forgot who I was. When his assistant found me, the poor man almost had a stroke. He bribed me with a hundred million dollars and a private jet just to keep me from calling the cops.” “So,” I looked her dead in the eye, “does that sound like seduction to you?” Her face went pale, then flushed with anger. But she quickly clung back to her pride. “What a ridiculous fairy tale. John Porter would never lower himself to do those things for someone like you.” “You’re just taking advantage of his amnesia to spin some wild fantasy!” I smiled. I really, truly wanted to laugh. Amnesia. So she knew about his memory loss. Then she must also know that during his recovery, the Porter family was an absolute circus, with every social climber and self-proclaimed fiancée trying to claim a piece of him. I had been back in the country for barely three hours before I was thrown into a sack. I knew exactly who had put me there. “I’ll give you one last piece of advice,” I said, my voice softening with genuine pity. “Walk out of that door before he gets home. You still have time.” “Otherwise…” “Otherwise what?” Bianca shrieked. She raised her hand, aiming a vicious slap at my face. “You cheap little…” A hand clamped onto her wrist, stopping her mid-air with enough force to turn her fingers white. Bianca gasped in pain, turning to yell, “Which idiot dares to… Thomas? What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with John?” Thomas, the personal secretary, looked at me kneeling on the floor, his face drained of color. “Miss Bianca, let her go! Please! If the boss finds out you made her kneel, he will destroy us all!” But before he could even reach me, Bianca’s guards blocked him. “Are you in league with this trash, Thomas?” she sneered. “No wonder she had the nerve to slip into his bed!” Thomas looked like he was about to have a heart attack. “Miss Bianca, Mrs. Porter chose you, and I respect that. But this woman… the boss has been tearing the world apart looking for her for three long years. You cannot touch her.” “Three years?” Bianca scoffed. “Since his accident, he’s mistaken a dozen women for someone else. Why would she be any different?” “Because…” Thomas stammered, unable to speak the unspeakable truths of John’s obsession. “You’re just a glorified errand boy,” Bianca said, her chin tilting up again. “The match was blessed by Mrs. Porter. Why don’t you go complain to her? If she gave me her blessing, who are you to tell me no?” Thomas shut his mouth, defeated. He was just an employee, after all. Bianca had the matriarch’s backing, and he couldn’t override that authority. He looked at me with a helpless, pleading expression that said, I can’t stop her, please just hang in there. I sighed, offering Bianca one last olive branch. “Miss Bianca, you should listen to the secretary. While you still can.” “Shut up, you bitch! How dare you threaten me!” Bianca snapped, breaking free and striking me across the face with a resounding slap. Thomas looked as if he had just watched a bomb go off. “Miss Bianca… you struck her.” “So what if I did?” “The boss cannot stand to see a single scratch on her!” Thomas’s voice was shaking. “Last time a driver merely stared at her, the boss personally broke his…” He swallowed hard, unable to finish the sentence. “You have no idea what he will do when he gets back.” The sheer terror in the room only seemed to feed Bianca’s spite. “You’re trying to scare me too?” she hissed, glaring at Thomas. “I wouldn’t dare lie to you…” “Then shut up.” She snatched a heavy metal baton from one of the bodyguards’ belts, her eyes flashing with malice. “I want to see exactly how crazy he gets for her.” Seeing that she was beyond reason, Thomas backed away, frantically pulling out his phone and dialing. “Sir! Wherever you are, you need to come back right now! Miss Bianca is going to hurt the lady you brought back, and I can’t stop her!” A heavy silence hung over the line for a fraction of a second. Then came a voice, low, icy, and so sharp it cut through the room even from several feet away. “Who gave her permission to touch what is mine?” A loud crack followed, the sound of plastic and glass being crushed under immense pressure. Thomas’s face went completely grey. He lowered his phone, his knees trembling. “The boss… he just crushed his phone. He said for no one to touch you, and that he’s on his way.” He looked at me like I was a saint who could save his soul, and then looked at Bianca like she was already in a coffin. For the first time, Bianca’s confidence wavered, but only for a second. “Bluffing,” she spat, though her grip on the baton tightened. “Who knows what’s true from before his accident. Even if he comes back, I am the woman his mother chose. Would he really destroy his own family for a mistress?” “He would,” I said softly. “What did you say?” “I said, he would.” I swirled the wine in my glass. “Believe me or not. You’ll find out soon enough.” My calm demeanor pushed her over the edge. “Hold her down,” she ordered, thrusting the baton into a guard’s hand. “Beat her until she begs.” “Miss Bianca! No!” Thomas threw himself to the ground, crawling to block the guard. “He’s been searching for her for three years!” “During his recovery, he locked himself in that basement every single day! He searched every flight manifest, every vineyard, every customs record across the globe just to find her!” “If you touch her, someone is going to die today!” The servants in the room dropped to their knees, trembling like autumn leaves in a storm. The collective terror in the room was louder than any warning. Bianca’s hand shook, the weight of their fear finally registering. “Are you all… insane?” she stammered, looking around. “Frightened of a common whore?” No one dared to answer. I spoke up, my voice quiet but cutting through the silence. “Every single thing you do to me right now will be returned to you tenfold when he walks through that door. He doesn’t forgive.” Bianca stared at me, her chest heaving. Finally, pushed to the brink of madness, she threw the baton aside and reached into her designer bag, pulling out a small, gleaming utility knife. “A beating is too good for you,” she whispered, her eyes shining with a frantic, unstable light. “John loves this face of yours? Let’s see how much he loves it when I slice it open.” “Let’s see if he still loses his mind for a monster.” Thomas shrieked, “Miss Bianca! Stop!” Outside, the violent, screeching sound of tires tearing asphalt shattered the air. Bianca didn’t stop. If anything, the sound of his arrival made her panic, driving her to finish what she started before he could walk through the door. “Hold her! Don’t let her move!” she screamed. The two guards clamped their hands around my jaw, forcing my head back. The cold, silver tip of the blade drifted inches from my cheek. “Let me go now, and I won’t tell him,” I said, keeping my voice perfectly steady. “Your last chance.” “Too late,” Bianca whispered, leaning in close, her breath cold against my skin. “I’ll only ruin half. I want to leave enough so he knows exactly what you used to look like.” “He’ll be devastated,” she laughed. “It’ll be beautiful.” The moment the cold metal touched my skin, a strong, pale hand reached from behind, gripping her wrist with the force of an iron vice. Bianca cried out as her bones groaned under the pressure, the utility knife clattering to the marble floor. John stood behind her. He wore a dark tailored suit, looking disheveled, his tie loosened, his eyes shot through with exhaustion. But those eyes were colder than a winter grave, sending a physical chill through the room. He didn’t look at Bianca. He stepped past her, dropping to his knees in front of me. His hands, trembling slightly, cradled my face, his fingers tracing my skin with agonizing gentleness. He was checking to make sure the blade hadn’t left a mark. Once he was sure I was untouched, his chest heaved, his breathing ragged. “Does it hurt?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “She slapped me,” I said calmly. “And she tried to ruin my face.” John’s grip on my jaw tightened ever so slightly, his knuckles turning white. He stood up slowly, turning his gaze to Bianca. The words that left his lips made everyone’s heart stop cold: “Then I will make sure her entire family begs for death.” With a single look, Bianca’s legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the floor.

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1 The day I caught Gideon cheating, my depression drove me to a rooftop edge. My sister Vivian stabbed him, dragging him to beg. Under her watch, he changed—deleting contacts, coming home on time, even reporting when he took out the trash. I thought our broken marriage was mending. Then a call came from my future self. The gaunt woman onscreen whispered, “Ten years on, and I’m still not healed?” She turned the camera: Gideon had Vivian pinned in a dusty utility room, eyes burning. “Ten years under the same roof, and you won’t let me touch you. How long will you punish me?” Vivian wept. “We betrayed Iris. Staying apart is our atonement.” Ice flooded my veins. The woman I’d hunted across Seattle was my own sister—hidden in plain sight for a decade. The future me leaned close, voice manic: “Hear them? While you breathe, everyone suffers. Die, and they’re free.” … I lowered my gaze, slowly picking up the paring knife on the table, tracing it against my chest. “Gideon is a neat freak. Why do you think he suddenly volunteers to take out the trash every single day? Did you really think your sister was staying here just to keep him in line for you?” “Don’t be stupid, Iris. Go check the blind spots of the estate. Those ten minutes of taking out the trash are the only moments they can escape you and have their own little world.” The front door clicked open. Gideon was back. Seeing the knife pressed against my chest, his face drained of all color. “Iris! What are you doing!” He didn’t even kick off his shoes, rushing toward me like a madman. The voice on the phone kept droning: “Look at his cuffs. He has such severe OCD. Look at him now.” Gideon’s obsession with order meant his sleeves were always folded up precisely three times, exposing his wrists. But right now, his cuffs were messy, and there was a faint smudge of lipstick near the hem. My gaze drifted past him, landing on my sister, whose makeup was slightly smudged. Clatter. My hands lost all strength, and the knife slipped, nearly piercing my thigh. Gideon stopped dead in his tracks, his hands hovering in the air, his voice trembling with caution: “Iris, put the knife down. Don’t hurt yourself.” I stared at his messy cuffs, my voice shaking violently: “Who is she?” Gideon froze, then quickly unlocked his phone, pulling up his GPS tracker to show me. “I just went to throw out the garbage, right downstairs. It wasn’t even ten minutes.” A deep, exhausted helplessness filled his eyes. “Iris, that happened three years ago. How much longer are you going to hold this over my head? I am exhausted from taking care of you every single day. Please, stop seeing ghosts everywhere.” He reached forward, trying to grab the knife. I swung the blade, stepping back. “Don’t touch me!” The edge sliced my palm, and blood welled up, dripping onto the hardwood floor. “Iris!” Vivian cried out, rushing forward to stop me. But in her haste, she tripped over her own feet, crashing hard against the side cabinet. “Vivian!” Gideon lunged toward her by instinct. But just before his hands reached her, he seemed to catch himself, freezing mid-air. Vivian stared at my bleeding hand, then swung her arm and slapped Gideon across the face. “Gideon! You’re pushing her again! Don’t you know she is sick!” The slap was incredibly hard, forcing his head to the side. He clenched his fists, struggling to rein in his brewing temper. When he turned back to me, the anger and resentment were entirely gone, replaced by the submissive, gentle husband I knew. “I’m sorry, Iris. I lost my temper. You’re bleeding. Let me patch you up.” He knelt before me, but his eyes were glued to Vivian’s reddening ankle. After quickly wrapping my hand, he naturally handed the medical kit to Vivian, his voice hoarse: “Put some ice on that.” Watching his quiet, agonizing restraint, I couldn’t take it anymore. I bolted into the bedroom and locked the door. Three years ago, when I first caught him cheating, I had searched every hotel room in the city like a lunatic, yet failed to find even a single strand of that woman’s hair. In my despair, I stood on the edge of the rooftop. It was Vivian who stabbed him and dragged him to my feet to beg for mercy. That day, the proud, untouchable Gideon had knelt before me, crying like a child who had lost his entire world. “Iris, I beg of you, you can’t die.” That desperate plea had made me believe he actually loved me. But now, a single phone call from the future had shattered every illusion I ever held. 2 This wasn’t an office. It was a perfect, one-to-one replica of our master bedroom. The emerald-green velvet sofa, the floor lamp in the corner that Gideon had handpicked, even the fresh flowers on the coffee table were identical to the ones we had at home. The only difference was the wall where our wedding photo should have hung. Instead, it was covered in hundreds of photos of my sister. Vivian chopping vegetables in the kitchen, Vivian sleeping on the sofa… Every single photo was captured with breathtaking warmth, the soft lighting radiating a deep, drowning love that transcended the paper. My chest throbbed with a dull, physical ache. I remembered our honeymoon, how I had spent two hours putting on makeup, practically begging Gideon to take a photo of me. He had merely clicked the shutter with a bored sigh, leaving me with a blurry, stiff image. It turned out he didn’t hate taking photos. He had simply saved all his patience, his passion, and his devotion for Vivian. Footsteps echoed from the hallway. Startled, I scrambled inside the wardrobe. The door swung open. “Let go of me!” Vivian’s voice was thick with tears as she tried to wrench her hand from Gideon’s grip. But Gideon held on like a man possessed, pulling her tightly against his chest. “Vivian, I can’t do this anymore! When she held that knife today, all I could think was… if she actually plunged it in, would we finally be free?” Vivian slapped him hard. “You monster! She is your wife!” “But I don’t love her!” Gideon’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice dripping with despair. “You have no idea how suffocating it is to lie next to her every single night. Vivian, let me just confess to her. If she lets me go, I’ll give her every single dime I own!” “No!” Vivian cried out, completely broken. “If you tell her now, you will drive her to her grave!” Gideon buried his face in the crook of her neck, begging like a drowning man. “Then what about me? You pity her, but who is going to pity me?” Vivian sobbed, her heart breaking. “When we were ten, she pushed me out of the way of a speeding truck. I swore I would protect her with my life, yet I fell in love with her husband. And when you crossed the wrong people for that business deal, she was the one who got cornered in that dark parking garage for you… If it weren’t for us, Iris would never have gotten sick. How can we do this to her?” Gideon trembled, kissing the tears from her face. Inside the wardrobe, my nails dug deep into the fresh cut on my palm. The wound reopened, warm blood flowing freely, but I couldn’t feel a thing. So that was it. How tragically beautiful. One was sacrificing her love to repay a childhood debt, while the other endured his guilt for the sake of his beloved. But in their grand, dramatic tragedy, what did that make me? After what felt like an eternity, the room fell silent. I crept out of the wardrobe, my legs shaking as I walked out of the office building. The freezing winter wind whipped against my face, drying my tears. I suddenly remembered the day Gideon had thrown the divorce papers at me, ready to give up his entire fortune just to leave. But then, he abruptly stopped mentioning it. It wasn’t because he wanted to stay. He was just terrified of carrying the guilt of my death, terrified that Vivian would never forgive herself. Since their love was so agonizing, I decided to set them free. I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer with numb fingers. “Mr. Reynolds, I need you to draft a divorce agreement. As quickly as possible.” The line went quiet for a long moment. The lawyer’s voice held a note of profound confusion, almost pity. “Mrs. Lockwood, are you playing a prank on me?” “What do you mean?” “There is no record of your marriage in the system,” the lawyer explained gently. “On paper, Iris, you are completely single.” 3 I stood on the icy street, the world spinning around me. So, Gideon had given me a diamond ring, a grand wedding, and impeccable daily care, but he had kept his legal registry completely empty, reserved solely for my sister. Even in our farce of a marriage, he was keeping himself pure for Vivian. A laugh tore from my throat, tears spilling over. Yet, clinging to one final shred of hope, I dialed the future number again. “I want to know,” I whispered. “Even for a single second, did he ever love me?” Silence stretched over the line. “Go to the VIP wing of the city hospital right now,” the future me said softly. “You’ll realize how pathetic that question is.” Like a ghost, I drifted into the hospital lobby. Through the glass window of a private room, I saw Vivian. She had apparently suffered an acute bout of gastroenteritis and was dry-heaving. And Gideon, the man who couldn’t tolerate a single speck of dirt, was wiping the vomit from the corner of her mouth with his bare hands. Watching them through the glass, my tears fell silently. Six months ago, when I threw up in the middle of the night due to my medication’s side effects, what had he done? He had recoiled to the doorway, his face twisted in disgust as he called the maid to clean it up. Then he spent an hour in the shower, washing himself three times, never once coming back to check on me as I gasped for air. But with Vivian, his rules of cleanliness simply didn’t exist. Gideon walked out of the room holding a basin. Seeing me, he slammed the door shut behind him. His gaze dropped to my bare feet and my purple, frozen lips. The hostility in his eyes softened, and he quickly wrapped his heavy wool coat around my shoulders. “Are you insane? Running out in the middle of the night dressed like this? Do you want to kill yourself?” Even now, he was still playing the role of the dutiful, protective husband. I looked at him, my voice eerily calm. “She’s in there, isn’t she?” Gideon’s face darkened, his grip on my arm tightening. “It’s an important client. You’re having an episode, Iris. Let’s get you home.” I shoved him back with all my strength, throwing the door open and rushing in. “Iris!” Gideon roared in panic. The person on the bed shrieked, pulling the blanket over her head to hide. I reached for the edge of the sheet. I knew that with one tug, I could rip away their mask, but my hand froze. Even at this point, I wanted them to admit it themselves. Under Gideon’s terrified gaze, I pulled a small penknife from my pocket and pointed it at my chest. “Gideon, pull that sheet back and tell me who she is. Or watch me die right here. Your choice.” Gideon didn’t move. The last trace of patience faded from his eyes. “Iris, do you really think threatening me with your life still works? For three years, whenever things don’t go your way, you threaten suicide. Don’t you get tired of playing this little game?” A game. So every single cry for help, every moment I was on the verge of collapsing, was nothing more than a cheap theatrical performance to him. The last spark of hope in my heart went out. I let out a soft chuckle and drove the knife down toward my chest. Gideon’s face contorted in sheer terror. “Don’t you dare touch her!” He didn’t even see where the blade was pointed. He lunged forward, kicking me squarely in the stomach. I flew back, crashing heavily onto the cold floor. A sharp, blinding pain flared in my lower abdomen. But I didn’t cry. I just watched as he threw his arms around the trembling figure on the bed, shielding her from me like a rabid beast protecting its mate. He thought I was going to hurt her, so he didn’t hesitate to use deadly force against me. At that moment, I was just so incredibly tired. “Gideon, the game is over. Let’s get divorced.” His shock lasted barely three seconds before transforming into a bitter sneer. “Stop testing me, Iris. If you actually wanted a divorce, you would have left years ago.” “This time, I mean it—” Before I could finish, the trembling figure on the bed lost her balance, tumbling off the mattress and crashing into the shattered glass of a broken vase on the floor. An muffled cry of pain echoed from beneath the blanket. Gideon’s face drained of color. He scooped her up in his arms, entirely ignoring me. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Let’s get a doctor.” I lay on the freezing tiles, watching a dark, terrifying crimson pool spread beneath me.

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In my past life, a horrific car crash on our wedding anniversary took my husband’s life and left me paralyzed, bound to a wheelchair for the rest of my days. My daughter turned her back on me, convinced that I was the one who had killed her father. Years later, during a solitary visit to his grave at the hilltop cemetery, a sudden torrential downpour caught me off guard. Unable to move my useless legs, I froze to death alone in the storm. Then, in the blink of an eye, I was back to a time when my husband was still healthy and whole. Desperate to see him, I rushed home, only to hear the voice of my dog, Buster, echoing in my mind. “Thank God, she’s back. They killed her in the last life.” “I’ll get them this time. I’ll rip their throats out.” It turned out I wasn’t the only one who had traveled back in time. So had my dog. 1 A piercing cold gripped my chest. The suffocating sensation of drowning in ice made me gasp for air, my head snapping upright as I breathed in ragged, desperate gulps. Beside me in the passenger seat, Buster was barking frantically. The familiar steering wheel, the hum of the engine, the grey afternoon light… everything felt surreal. Wasn’t I dead? Where was I? Hey babe, don’t worry about taking off for our anniversary. Focus on work, but don’t forget to pick up Kathy! A text message from my husband, Marcus, flashed on my dashboard screen. It was the exact same message from that fateful day. A cold sweat broke out across my shoulders as the truth settled in. I had traveled back. I was back on the very day of the crash. All I wanted was to see Marcus. The man who had died so young in my previous life, the one I had cherished as my devoted, gentle partner. I slammed my foot on the gas pedal, weaving through the suburban traffic toward home. Next to me, Buster kept whining and barking, his fluffy white coat rustling against the leather seat. The noise scraped at my frayed nerves. “Hush, buddy, quiet down,” I muttered, reaching over to stroke his head to soothe him. The moment my palm touched his fur, my foot slammed onto the brake. The car screeched to a halt by the curb. Because I heard a voice. A voice that came from nowhere, yet echoed clearly in my head. She’s alive. She’s really alive. They haven’t hurt her yet. This time, I’ll protect her. I’ll make them pay. Was I losing my mind? Was the shock of returning to the living causing me to hallucinate? I stared at the fluffy Samoyed beside me. His dark, intelligent eyes were locked onto mine, filled with an intensity no ordinary dog should possess. In my past life, Buster was the only one who stayed by my side until my bitter end. I clapped my hands gently in a specific rhythm. It was a silly little trick I used to play with him after I lost the use of my legs, back when I couldn’t move much. Whenever I clapped, he would pant happily, place his heavy paw over my right hand, and nudge it as if joining in. Now, Buster let out a soft whine, extended his pink tongue, and firmly placed his paw over my right hand. Don’t go back, Valerie. Please. If you go back, bad things will happen. The realization turned my blood to ice. A deep, primal dread crept up my spine, leaving me shivering despite the car’s heater. I wasn’t dreaming. The dog had returned too. The distant hum of city traffic and the feel of my fully functional, pain-free legs reminded me that I was indeed alive, whole, and healthy. Why did he say I was murdered? I remembered this day vividly. A few days prior, Marcus’s younger brother, Luke, had come over begging for a loan. Without my consent, Marcus emptied our joint savings account to hand over the cash. We had a massive screaming match about it. Hoping to salvage our marriage, I had swapped shifts with a coworker to surprise Marcus on our anniversary with a weekend getaway, just the two of us. Instead, we ended up in that horrific crash. I was mangled, and Marcus died on the operating table. Pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle began to align in my mind. I remembered his reaction when I told him about the surprise trip. His face had gone pale, his jaw tightening in a way I had dismissed as mere stress. Why would Buster say I was murdered? Was the car crash not an accident? They’re planning it again. They want to divorce you and leave you with nothing. Let me loose. I’ll rip his throat out! Had Marcus been cheating on me all along? I pulled into the dim, concrete underground parking garage of our apartment building but couldn’t bring myself to step out. If I still had any doubts about Buster’s telepathic warnings, the sight waiting for me in the shadows of the garage shattered them completely. In the far corner, near the service elevator, stood Marcus. And he wasn’t alone. He was wrapped tightly around a woman, their low, intimate whispers echoing clearly in the quiet concrete cavern. Because of the angle and the dim lighting, I couldn’t make out her face. “Don’t worry about it,” Marcus’s voice drifted over, dripping with a smug confidence I had never heard before. “Valerie is oblivious. She believes whatever I tell her. Besides, I control the accounts. By the time we file, she won’t have a single penny left to her name.” The distance muffled some of their words, but the fragments I caught were enough to turn my soul to ash. He didn’t recognize my car because I had borrowed a coworker’s sedan for the trip. He had no idea I was sitting in the dark, watching him dismantle our fifteen-year marriage with a laugh. For the first time in our long marriage, I realized I didn’t know the man I slept next to at all. My mind flashed back to when my father was hospitalized years ago. All our savings were under Marcus’s control, and the mounting medical bills had been suffocating. Marcus had been the one to insist on the surgery, rushing home to handle the wire transfer. But later, he came back empty-handed, looking exasperated. “I’m so sorry, honey,” he had pleaded, his eyes watery. “I was so worried about your dad, I got distracted by some guy cutting in line at the bank. I messed up the PIN and locked the account. The bank locked us out for a week.” He had held me close, apologizing over and over. Distracted by grief, I hadn’t doubted him for a second, feeling deeply touched by how much he seemed to care. I actually felt lucky to have married such a sensitive, caring husband. In the end, we couldn’t raise the funds in time, even after begging every friend and relative we knew. My father passed away in that cold hospital room. I could still smell the sharp, sterile scent of disinfectant, still feel his frail, trembling hand holding mine through the oxygen mask, whispering that he didn’t blame me. Tears blurred my vision as the memory pierced my chest. The pain of losing him was still an open, bleeding wound. A sharp bark from Buster pulled me back to the present. Go get them, Valerie! Let’s get them! She’s the one who caused the crash last time. I know it! Buster, in his loyal canine mind, associated that woman’s presence with my demise. But I wasn’t as brave as my dog. I looked at Buster, his fur bristling, his small body tense and ready to fight. I felt a bittersweet mixture of gratitude and profound sorrow. Hearing my dog’s thoughts had exposed a lifetime of betrayal. The husband I had mourned for years had been wearing a mask all along. I couldn’t just walk up to them. They had already headed up to the apartment. Standing near the stairwell, I could hear their muffled laughter echoing down the hallway. If I were younger, I would have charged in, screamed, and clawed at both of them until my knuckles bled. But I was a mother now, and the man inside was my daughter’s father. I needed to keep my composure. I needed strategy, not a screaming match that would leave me vulnerable. I pulled out my phone, sent Marcus a quick text saying my shift ran late, and quietly led Buster out of the building toward a nearby park. Sensing the heavy, suffocating silence hanging over me, Buster quieted down, his tail drooping as he trotted beside me. He kept nudging my knee with his wet nose, trying to offer what little comfort he could. My mind was a chaotic storm. Fifteen years of marriage, gone in an instant. I realized I had spent over a decade living a lie, willfully blind to the truth. He had never respected my family. I remembered when my mother first fell ill. My parents were simple, hardworking farmers with barely any savings to their name. Once I secured a stable corporate job, I began sending them monthly allowances, ensuring they lived comfortably. After marrying Marcus, I trusted him to handle the transfers. During a visit home, my cousin Toby took me aside, looking nervous. “Valerie,” he had whispered, glancing around. “Maybe you should just transfer the monthly money directly to me to give to your parents. I know Marcus is busy, and… well, it might be easier. Not saying he’s doing it on purpose, but sometimes the dates are way off, or the amount is…” Toby trailed off, shifting on his feet, clearly uncomfortable but trying to warn me without causing a family feud. When I brought it up with Marcus, he blew up. He threw a massive tantrum, sobbing about how I didn’t trust him, packing a suitcase and claiming his pure intentions had been insulted. I had felt so guilty back then, thinking I had broken his heart. Now, I saw it for what it was: the desperate panic of a thief caught in the act. After my parents passed, Toby finally told me the truth at the funeral. “You need to watch your back around Marcus, Valerie. He barely sent them anything. Your parents were still selling vegetables at the local market just to pay for groceries…” It is a sad truth that we believe the lies that make us feel safe. I closed my eyes as the memories burned. Sitting on a damp park bench, I began to plan my next move. Checking my watch, I figured enough time had passed for his mistress to slip away. I remembered what the highway patrol officer had muttered to his partner while I lay bleeding in the wreckage of our car in the previous life. I opened my eyes, stood up, and walked back toward the apartment. When I opened the door, Marcus was standing in the kitchen, wearing a neat apron and stirring a pan. I noted the slightly disheveled sofa cushions and the rumpled hem of his shirt but kept my mouth shut. “I thought you had to pull an overtime shift,” Marcus said, his tone slightly tight as he plated a dish heavy with red chili peppers. Our daughter was in middle school, yet he still forgot that I had a severe allergy to spicy peppers. Clearly, someone else in his life loved spicy food. “Tomorrow is our anniversary,” I said with a tight smile. “I wanted to surprise you.” Marcus’s smile faltered, turning stiff. Suddenly, Buster lunged. He bolted into the kitchen, barking fiercely. Startled, Marcus tripped over his own feet, sending the plate of peppers crashing to the floor as he tumbled backward. Buster stood over him, baring his teeth in a low, vicious snarl. I hate him. I want to tear him apart! “Jesus! What is wrong with this damn dog?!” Marcus yelled, scrambling back against the cabinets, clutching his chest. “I told you we shouldn’t have adopted this mutt! Look at this mess. He’s completely out of control!” “Buster, stop. Back to your bed,” I said, my voice deliberately flat. Buster gave a final, resentful grunt and trotted back to his corner. “Dogs have a way of sensing a person’s true nature,” I remarked softly. Marcus froze, a flicker of panic darting across his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean? You’re acting weird today.” “Nothing. Go ahead and eat. I’m not hungry.” I walked into our bedroom and immediately began rummaging through the dresser drawers, searching for our financial documents. A terrifying suspicion was taking root in my mind. Marcus followed me, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, his posture defensive. “What are you looking for? Let me help you.” “Our savings records,” I replied smoothly. “Kathy wants to enroll in that summer camp, and my firm’s payroll is delayed this month. I need to pull some funds from our joint account.” “You spoil that girl too much,” Marcus grumbled, shifting his body to block the small safe in the closet. “And what do you mean your payroll is delayed? Is your business partner not covering his share?” He stood firmly between me and the documents. “Why the hesitation?” I asked, looking him dead in the eye. “Is there a ghost in our accounts, or did someone spend my hard-earned money on another woman?” Marcus’s face flushed. “Don’t be ridiculous! Luke wanted to make an investment. It’s a high-yield opportunity, and I thought it was a great chance for us to make some passive income, so I put some of our funds into it.” There it was. The exact same lie from my previous life. That investment was nothing but a classic Ponzi scheme, a black hole designed to swallow our money. “Oh. You should have told me sooner,” I said, keeping my tone perfectly casual. My calm reaction caught him off guard. Throughout our marriage, I had always despised his freeloading brother and adamantly opposed giving him money. But it didn’t matter now. Whatever they had taken, I would make them vomit back up, penny by penny. At that moment, I still naively believed a standard divorce court could settle this neatly. Relieved by my lack of suspicion, Marcus smiled warmly and leaned in to plant a kiss on my cheek. “Babe, I knew you’d understand. You’re the best.” The second he turned his back, I scrubbed my cheek with the back of my hand until the skin burned. The touch of his lips made my stomach turn. He disgusted me. Once Marcus left the apartment, I immediately bypassed the safe and searched the top shelf of the closet for our insurance policies. In my past life, it wasn’t until after the crash that I discovered Marcus had been quietly taking out hefty accidental death policies on me every single year. He had only taken one out on himself in our final year together. I was the insured, and he was the sole beneficiary of my policy. Meanwhile, his policy named Kathy as his beneficiary. After the crash, the insurance investigators had aggressively questioned me, hinting at a potential fraud scheme. But because Marcus was the one who had died, I had screamed at them, defending his memory in a fit of grief-stricken rage. I had spent three days fighting for my life in the ICU. By the time I woke up, Marcus had already been cremated. Paralyzed and drowning in sorrow, I hadn’t paid any attention to the subsequent insurance payouts. I had signed over the power of attorney to his brother, Luke. By the time I was discharged, our entire savings had supposedly been swallowed by medical bills. The remaining estate went entirely into a trust for Kathy, leaving me completely penniless, surviving on meager government aid for years. But now, looking at the pattern, a chilling thought emerged. If what Buster thought and what Marcus said in the garage were true, then maybe Marcus hadn’t died at all in that crash. Buster trotted into the bedroom, gently tugging at the cuff of my jeans, urging me to follow him. He led me to his dog bed in the corner of the living room and began scratching frantically at the heavy cushion until he flipped it over. Tucked into the lining was a small, glossy photograph. He nudged it toward me with his nose. Look, Valerie! Look at her! She’s the one who drove the car that hit us! “Buster, why would you say that?” I muttered. Before I could process the image of the dark-haired woman, my phone rang. It was Kathy’s homeroom teacher, Brenda, who was married to one of my old college friends. “Hi Valerie,” Brenda said, her voice hesitant over the line. “We had the school health screenings today, and Kathy’s blood report came back as Type B. I might be misremembering, but didn’t you and Marcus mention you both are Type A?” My world shattered in a deafening silence. I was an educated woman. I could have handled infidelity. I could have processed the end of a fifteen-year marriage and fought for a clean break. He was still the father of my child, or so I had believed. Up until that exact second, I had been trying to rationalize his betrayal, wondering if my long hours at work had driven him into another woman’s arms. But if Kathy wasn’t my biological daughter… then the betrayal had started before we even walked down the aisle. A cold shiver racked my frame. My mind went blank, a high-pitched ring echoing in my ears. In my past life, after Marcus passed, Kathy was taken in by his parents. For the next ten years, she refused to see me, screaming that she hated me, that she wished I had died instead of her father. I had spent a decade drowning in guilt, sending his parents exorbitant child support payments while living like a ghost myself. “Valerie? Are you still there?” Brenda’s voice broke through the static in my head. “I just wanted to check in. Kathy’s been bragging to her classmates that her dad is preparing their immigration papers for Europe. I thought I’d ask if you guys were moving, or if there was just some clerical error on her blood card.” My breath caught, my heart stuttering to a halt. I tried to speak, but my throat was entirely dry. I managed a strained thank-you before quietly hanging up.

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A sudden car accident, and my fierce rival shows up just to gloat. Before she can say a word, I decide to play dumb. On a wild whim, I look up at her and rasp, “Baby, what took you so long?” Watching her beautiful face freeze is the most satisfying thing I’ve ever seen. “Well, I did keep you waiting,” she replies, leaning down to press a soft, lingering kiss against my cheek. As her lips touch my skin, my entire world implodes. 01 The damp warmth on my cheek felt like a lightning bolt striking my brain. Me, Ken Carlisle, twenty-eight, CEO of Nova Tech, and widely considered the most eligible bachelor in the business world, was lying in a hospital bed, watching my entire reality collapse and rebuild itself. Five minutes ago, I was still congratulating myself on my own cleverness. When I first woke up from the crash, my arch-rival, Candice Lockhart, was standing by my bed. That gorgeous, usually mocking face of hers actually carried a rare look of genuine worry. Caught up in a sudden wave of mischief, I beat her to the punch: “Baby, what took you so long?” Heaven knows why I used such a cheesy, intimate term. Maybe it was the lingering fog of the anesthesia, or maybe I just wanted the sheer satisfaction of seeing her smug expression crack. But I never, in my wildest dreams, expected Candice to react the way she did. “Well, I did keep you waiting,” she murmured, leaning down to press that soft, apologetic kiss to my cheek. In that instant, I nearly bolted straight out of bed. Candice Lockhart, heiress of Lockhart Industries, the woman who had spent the last five years trying to destroy me in the boardroom, had just kissed me. It wasn’t an illusion. The soft touch of her lips and the faint scent of her jasmine perfume were terrifyingly real. “What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” Candice tilted her head, her eyes wide with what looked like genuine concern. She wasn’t wearing her usual sharp, aggressive makeup today. Without it, she looked surprisingly soft, almost innocent. My throat went dry, my mind racing at a million miles an hour. If I confessed right now that I was faking, I’d be digging my own grave. Knowing Candice, once she realized I had played her, she would make sure I suffered a slow, painful social death. “My head… hurts a bit,” I muttered, choosing to commit to the bit. I let my voice sound as weak as possible. Candice immediately pressed the call button, her movements incredibly swift. “The doctor said you might have a mild concussion,” she said softly. “It’s normal for your memory to be a little scrambled.” She brushed a stray lock of hair away from my forehead, her fingertips cool against my skin, yet leaving a trail of heat like a branding iron. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.” I went completely stiff. Was this act getting a little too real? I forced my facial muscles to relax, trying to look confused and entirely dependent on her. “Baby… have I been asleep for long?” Candice’s eyelashes fluttered. She reached down and took my hand. My immediate instinct was to yank it back, but I held my ground. “Three days,” she said, her voice dropping to a tender murmur. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?” Her palm was warm and dry, her fingers slightly calloused from years of holding pens and signing contracts. It was a strange realization. Who knew my sworn enemy’s hand could feel so comforting? The nurse pushed the door open, breaking the bizarre, charged silence in the room. Candice let go of my hand naturally, stepping back to give the nurse space, but her gaze never left my face. “Mr. Carlisle, how are you feeling?” the nurse asked, checking my IV drip. “Better, but…” I glanced at Candice, deliberately sounding hesitant, “some things are a bit fuzzy.” The nurse nodded understandingly. “Common symptoms after a concussion. Your girlfriend here has been worried sick. Having a loved one around will help you recover faster.” I nearly choked on my own spit. Before I could say anything, Candice smiled warmly. “I’ll make sure he gets all the care he needs.” Once the nurse left, leaving us alone again, the air in the room grew thick and heavy. “Thirsty?” Candice picked up a glass of water from the nightstand, her movements so practiced and familiar it was as if she had done this a thousand times. I nodded slowly. She carefully supported the back of my neck, bringing the rim of the glass to my lips. The posture was so intimate it felt like an embrace, the scent of jasmine enveloping me once more. The cool water slid down my throat, but it only made me feel thirstier. “How long… have we been together?” I decided to take the initiative, testing her limits. Candice set the glass down, her eyes suddenly softening into something beautiful and tinged with sadness. “Three years and four months.” She paused, looking down. “Since that charity gala, when you drank on my behalf to save me from those aggressive investors.” My chest tightened. That gala was a real event, but I had only intervened because I didn’t want her stealing my prospective clients. After that night, we had fought tooth and nail over that contract. Where on earth did she get a romance out of that? “I remember you wore a deep navy suit,” Candice continued, her voice soft and full of details. “And the tie you wore was the one I gave you for your birthday.” A cold sweat broke out across my back. Either she was playing a highly sophisticated game, or… she actually believed we were dating. 02 Before I could wrap my head around it, the hospital room door burst open. My assistant, Liam, rushed in carrying a thick stack of folders. “Mr. Carlisle! Thank god you’re awake! These need your urgent sign…” His voice died in his throat. His eyes went wide as saucers as he stared at Candice holding my hand. Candice calmly took the folders from his grasp. “The doctor says he needs absolute rest. Work can wait.” Liam’s jaw practically hit the floor. “M-Ms. Lockhart? What are you doing here?” “I’m his girlfriend,” Candice said, her face perfectly blank as she tossed the folders onto a nearby table. “Is there a problem?” I saw the sheer, apocalyptic terror flash in Liam’s eyes. It was entirely justified. Just last month, I had spent a solid thirty minutes shouting in the boardroom about how Lockhart Industries had stolen our bid. “N-No problem at all!” Liam stammered, retreating toward the door. Before he fled, he shot me a look that clearly asked: Have you been brainwashed? Watching him run, my mind was a chaotic mess. Great. Now the entire company was going to think I’d lost my mind. “Baby, you terrified my assistant,” I said, leaning into the sweet, needy tone just to see how she’d handle it. Candice raised an eyebrow. She stepped closer, her fingers suddenly cupping my chin. “Ken, do you know what I like most about you?” Her grip was firm, forcing me to look directly into her fierce, feline eyes. My pulse spiked, though I couldn’t tell if it was from panic or something else entirely. “What?” I managed to get out. “This right here,” she whispered, leaning in so close her warm breath tickled my ear. “The way you want to fight back, but you’re forced to play along with my little show.” I went stiff. She knew. She knew the entire time! Candice pulled back, a victorious smile playing on her lips. “The doctor said your memory might be stuck three years ago, right when we started dating.” She blinked innocently. “Do you need me to help you remember, darling?” My throat felt tight. This woman was playing with fire. “Sure,” I countered, reaching out to wrap my hand around her wrist. “Why don’t we start with our very first kiss?” Candice clearly hadn’t expected me to push back. I felt her wrist tremble slightly in my grip. But a second later, she leaned down, coming so close I could see my own reflection in her dark pupils. “It was in your office,” she murmured, her voice a low, seductive thread. “I brought over a contract, and you pinned me against the door…” My brain short-circuited. We actually had a confrontation like that, except we had nearly torn each other’s throats out, not kissed. “And then?” I asked, my voice raspy, entirely unsure of what answer I wanted to hear. Candice’s lips were practically brushing mine. “And then, you…” 03 Candice’s words were cut off as the door flew open with a bang. “Ken! Oh, my sweet boy, I was worried sick!” My mother’s voice stopped mid-shriek. My father, trailing right behind her, stood frozen in his tracks. Both of them stared in absolute shock at the two of us, practically pressed together on the bed. (They had been vacationing in Tuscany and had flown back overnight the second they heard about the accident). The air in the room turned to ice. I instinctively tried to pull away from Candice, but she locked her fingers through mine, holding me fast. “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Carlisle,” Candice said smoothly, straightening up with a flawless, polite smile. “I’m Ken’s girlfriend, Candice Lockhart.” “G-Girlfriend?!” My mother’s voice went up an octave, her designer handbag slipping from her fingers and hitting the floor with a dull thud. My father looked like he was witnessing an alien invasion. “Lockhart… as in Lockhart Industries?” My temples throbbed. This had gone completely off the rails. “Yes,” Candice replied, adjusting my blanket with practiced tenderness. “We’ve been together for over three years now. We just hadn’t found the right moment to tell you.” My mother took a step forward, her eyes darting between us. “But the news last month said you two were practically at war over that bidding contract…” “Just business,” Candice interrupted with a light laugh. “In private, our relationship is incredibly strong.” She reached over and playfully ruffled my hair. I felt a surge of sheer frustration, but I couldn’t do a thing. For some reason, my mother’s eyes began to well with tears. “Oh, thank goodness! I was so worried Ken would grow old and die alone with his spreadsheets!” My father walked over, giving me a deeply suspicious look. “You kept this well hidden, son.” I opened my mouth, but no words came out. How could I explain this? If I admitted I was faking, how would I explain why Candice was kissing me? But if I kept playing along, my parents would gladly hand me over to this beautiful demon on a silver platter. “He just woke up, and his memory is still a little scrambled,” Candice lied smoothly, her acting skills worthy of an Oscar. “The doctor said it’s best not to stress him.” My mother immediately took my hand, her eyes full of pity. “My poor boy… Well, Candice, I’m so glad you’re here. We’ll have to rely on you to take care of him.” “Of course,” Candice said, beaming. “I am his girlfriend, after all.” I watched in horror as my mother reached into her purse and pulled out a stunning, vintage emerald bracelet, our family heirloom reserved for her future daughter-in-law, and slid it directly onto Candice’s wrist. “Mrs. Carlisle, this is far too valuable…” Candice protested, though she didn’t put up much of a fight. “Nonsense! Take it! It’s going to be yours eventually anyway,” my mother gushed, smiling from ear to ear. I closed my eyes in utter despair. What was happening to my life? My father patted my shoulder, his voice heavy with approval. “Good taste, son. She’s a hundred times better than those socialites your mother tried to set you up with.” I felt like I had just taken a physical blow to the chest. Once the nurse finally coaxed my parents out to the doctor’s office to discuss my recovery, I grabbed Candice’s wrist. “Are you insane?” Candice tilted her head, the emerald bracelet catching the light. “What’s the matter, boyfriend?” “Who’s your boyfriend?” I hissed. “The game is over!” “Is it?” She leaned down, her long hair brushing against my chest. “Do you want to go tell your parents that you faked amnesia to play a prank, and that I caught you red-handed?” I opened and closed my mouth, completely speechless. She gave me a victorious wink. “Just play along. Once your ‘memory returns,’ we can have a nice, amicable breakup.” “Why should I play by your rules?” I growled. Candice’s hand gently cupped my cheek, her thumb lightly tracing my lower lip. “Because…” Her voice suddenly softened, losing all its sharp edges. “When you had that accident, I was truly terrified.” I froze. Candice’s eyes held a vulnerability I had never seen before: raw, real, and entirely devoid of malice. “So,” she said, her usual playful smirk returning in a flash, “just play along with me, okay?” My heart skipped a beat. Before I could think, I nodded. She laughed and started to pull away, but I grabbed her hand. “Wait,” I muttered, frowning. “If we’re doing this, I need to know the script. How exactly did we get together?” Candice’s eyes sparkled. “You drank for me at that charity gala, and then you spent three months desperately pursuing me…” “Bull!” the word slipped out before I could stop it. “You were the one who…” I cut myself off, but it was too late. Candice’s grin turned incredibly smug. “Well, look at that. Someone’s memory is returning rather quickly.” I let go of her hand, thoroughly annoyed with myself. She leaned down one last time, whispering in my ear, “Don’t worry. I’ll be the perfect girlfriend.” I couldn’t tell if it was a promise or a threat.

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