Author: Momo Chan

1 On my wedding day, my fiancé’s secretary drenched my parents in red wine. Right there on the red carpet, my father’s hairpiece was knocked askew, my mother’s designer gown was soaked to the skin, and a wave of snickers rippled through the high-society guests. Furious, I gathered the heavy skirts of my wedding dress and stormed into the bridal suite, only to find Thomas gently wiping the wine stains from Tavi’s hands. “It was just an accident,” he said, his voice casual and indifferent. He didn’t even bother to look up at me. “Don’t be so petty.” I stared at his hand, wrapped protectively around Tavi’s wrist, and a sudden, sharp laugh escaped my throat. “Thomas, the wedding is off.” He finally raised his head. “Ann, stop making a scene.” “Do you even realize what day it is?” I looked at him, then at Tavi, who stood shivering behind him with tears pooling in her eyes. She was wearing her bridesmaid dress, shrinking back as if she were a defenseless victim. “I’m so sorry,” Tavi whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s all my fault. I only wanted to help your parents adjust their clothes before the ceremony, but I lost my footing.” “So,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “you’re saying my parents deserved to be covered in Cabernet, and we should thank you for your thoughtfulness?” Tavi’s face drained of color. “I didn’t mean it like that.” Thomas stepped in front of her, shielding her further. “Ann, do you have to be so venomous? Tavi already apologized. What more do you want?” I stared at the man I had loved for seven years. I used to think I knew him better than anyone. Now, he felt like a total stranger. Outside that door were hundreds of guests and my humiliated parents. Inside, my fiancé and his secretary were playing the roles of the noble protector and the damsel in distress. “What do I want?” I repeated, taking a slow step toward him. “Thomas, you know my father has a weak heart. You know how much my mother values her dignity. Today, they stood in front of the entire city, taking the brunt of everyone’s mockery for our sake. And you, my groom, are in here comforting the person who did it.” My voice didn’t tremble. It was flat, cold, and entirely hollow. Thomas shifted uncomfortably. “I told you, she didn’t do it on purpose. I’ve already sent my assistant to handle the situation. I’ll go explain things to your parents in a minute.” Explain? With what? His silver tongue? Was he going to patch up my parents’ shattered dignity with a few empty words? A wave of exhaustion washed over me. Every single time, it was the same excuse. She’s just my assistant, Ann, don’t overthink it. She’s trying to make it in the city all on her own, it’s only right that we look out for her. Yes, she had it so hard. So hard that she could call him away in the middle of our anniversary dinners. So hard that she could buy the exact same matching couple’s sweaters we owned and claim they were company uniforms. So hard that she could completely ruin our wedding day. Because I loved him, I was expected to be gracious, understanding, and silent. But why? I reached behind my back and began aggressively tearing at the laces of my wedding dress. The custom, six-figure gown I had spent three months perfecting was ripped open with brutal force. Thomas’s eyes widened in shock. “Ann, have you lost your mind?!” He lunged forward to stop me, but I stepped aside. The heavy silk slid off my body, pooling on the dusty floor in a ruined, crumpled heap of white. It looked exactly like the wreckage of our seven years together. I stood before him in nothing but a simple silk slip. The air conditioning in the suite was blasting, but I didn’t feel the cold. When your heart is dead, the chill can’t reach you anymore. “Thomas, we’re done.” I threw those words at him, turned on my heel, and walked out. Tavi’s gasp and Thomas’s angry shouts were cut short as the heavy door slammed shut behind me. Barefoot, I walked down the freezing tiled corridor, leaving that golden cage behind. When I reached the grand ballroom, I saw my parents. The coordinator had ushered them into a quiet corner. My mother was frantically dabbing at my father’s face with wet napkins. My father’s shoulders were hunched, his usual proud posture entirely gone. The lingering glances of the remaining guests cut through us like knives. I walked over, slipped off my blazer, and draped it over my mother’s damp shoulders. “Dad, Mom,” I said, my throat tight. “Let’s go home.” My mother looked up, seeing me in my slip, and her eyes welled with fresh tears. “Ann, sweetheart, what about the…” My father pushed himself up from the table, his lips trembling, unable to find his words. I didn’t explain. I simply took their hands, and with my spine perfectly straight, I led them out of the venue under the suffocating silence of the room. Behind us, Thomas’s voice echoed through the lobby. “Ann! Stop right there!” There was a rare note of panic in his shout. I didn’t pause. I didn’t look back. Neither did my parents. We left that grand farce of a wedding behind without a single backward glance. The moment we stepped inside our house, my mother collapsed onto the couch, sobbing uncontrollably. My father sat in his armchair, lighting one cigarette after another, filling the living room with a thick, gray haze. I knew he was trying to use the nicotine to suppress the chest pain and his surging blood pressure. I didn’t cry. The tears had dried up the moment I walked out of that hotel. I went to my bedroom, pulled out my phone, and methodically blocked Thomas on every single platform. Contacts, social media, messaging apps, everything. In ten minutes, I erased seven years of history. Once that was done, I called my assistant. “Book me the earliest flight out of the country, anywhere will do. Also, list my penthouse at Starlight Heights for sale immediately. Price it to sell fast.” The penthouse was the wedding gift Thomas had bought me, situated right across from his corporate headquarters. He had told me he wanted to look out his office window and see my light on every night. Now, the memory tasted like ash. My assistant gasped on the other end of the line. “Boss, did you and Mr. Montgomery…” “We broke up.” I hung up, and a profound, quiet stillness settled over the room. That night, my father’s blood pressure spiked to a dangerous high, and we had to rush him to the hospital. Standing by his bedside, watching his fragile, sleeping form, the very last trace of affection I had for Thomas vanished. Thomas didn’t call. He probably assumed I was just throwing a tantrum, throwing a fit until I eventually crawled back to him like I always did. After all, that had been our dynamic for seven years. The next morning, a text from an unknown number lit up my screen. Ann, enough is enough. Come home. Stop making us the laughingstock of the city. Even now, his priority wasn’t me or my family. It was his precious reputation. I blocked the number immediately. On the third day, his mother, Mrs. Montgomery, called. Her tone carried its usual condescending warmth. “Ann, darling, I know you’re hurt. But you know Thomas. He’s a workaholic, he treats everyone with the same professional intensity. I’ve met Tavi, she’s a sweet, simple girl, not the conniving type you’re making her out to be. Don’t lower yourself to her level. Thomas was wrong about the wedding, and I’ve already given him a piece of my mind. Come back home, and let’s sit down as a family to discuss this.” Family? I let out a cold laugh. “Mrs. Montgomery, you seem to be mistaken. The moment I walked out of that hotel, we ceased to be family. Do not call me again. My father is in the hospital, and I have absolutely no patience left for your family.” I cut the call. Finally, the world was quiet. I spent the next week at the hospital until my father’s condition stabilized. During those seven days, Thomas made no attempt to reach out. I figured he was furious, angry that I had dared to bruise his ego. Good. A clean break was the best outcome I could hope for. On the day of my father’s discharge, the real estate agent called. “Ms. Ann, we have an offer on the penthouse. The buyer is willing to pay above asking price, but they have one condition. They want to meet you in person to finalize the paperwork.” Though surprised, I agreed to the meeting. We scheduled it for the following afternoon at the penthouse. I arrived early. Walking through the front door, the apartment was exactly as I had left it. Our framed engagement photo still sat prominently on the console table in the entryway, both of us smiling radiantly. I walked over, picked up the frame, and dropped it directly into the trash can. At three o’clock sharp, the doorbell rang. I opened the door to find Thomas standing on the threshold. He had lost weight, a dark shadow of stubble covered his jaw, and his expensive designer suit was noticeably wrinkled. He looked uncharacteristically disheveled. When his eyes met mine, they softened with a complicated mix of emotions. “Ann,” he rasped. I leaned against the doorframe, my expression completely blank. “You’re the buyer?” He nodded, taking a step forward to enter. I extended my arm, blocking his path. “Mr. Montgomery, we aren’t on those terms. You can inspect the property, but please respect my boundaries.” Thomas froze, staring at me. “Ann, do you really have to be like this? Seven years of love, thrown away over one minor mishap?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “A minor mishap? In your world, what qualifies as a major issue, Thomas? Do my parents have to die of a heart attack, or do I have to jump off this balcony before you think it’s serious?” The words hit him like a physical blow. His face went pale. “I didn’t mean it like that! Ann, I know I messed up. Just forgive me this once, please?” He reached out to grab my hand, but I stepped back, letting his fingers grasp empty air. “It’s too late, Thomas. The moment you chose to protect Tavi over my family, it was over.” I turned back into the apartment and pulled a folder from the coffee table. “Here is the deed and the sale contract. I’ve already signed my portion. The price is standard market value, transfer the funds to this account. I’ll have all my belongings cleared out within three days.” I pressed the folder against his chest. “Sign it if there are no objections. Don’t waste my time.” Thomas didn’t take the folder. He just stared at me, his eyes bloodshot. “Ann, how can you be this heartless? You threw away the wedding dress. Now you’re selling the penthouse. You want to erase every single trace of us, don’t you?” I met his gaze, my voice steady. “Yes.” That single word seemed to shatter his composure entirely. His shoulders trembled, and his eyes welled with tears. “Why? Just because of Tavi? There is nothing going on between us! I’ll fire her. I’ll send her away and never see her again! Ann, just give me one more chance!” The arrogance was gone, replaced by a desperate, rambling plea. But I was done listening. “You’re missing the point, Thomas. The issue was never Tavi. It was you. In your heart, your career, your pride, and your needy staff will always come before me. I’m tired of betting my life on the hope that you might one day look back and see me.” Without another word, I walked into the bedroom and began packing. Thomas didn’t follow. He stood in the living room like a statue. I packed my clothes, my books, my makeup, stripping the apartment of any sign that I had ever existed there. Finally, I rolled my two heavy suitcases toward the door. He hadn’t moved an inch. As my hand touched the brass doorknob, his gravelly voice echoed from behind me. “Ann. Do you really think you’ll survive out there without me? Everything you have right now, who do you think gave it to you?” I paused, turning my head slightly. “Thomas, you’re about to find out exactly how well I can live without you.” I didn’t go back to my parents’ place. Instead, I rented a small, modern loft close to my office. I needed my own sanctuary to heal and rebuild. The public relations firm I ran had gained a decent reputation over the years. It was true that Thomas’s corporate backing had helped me during the startup phase. But I was no longer the fragile girl who needed to lean on him to survive. I had built a solid portfolio of clients who trusted my strategic mind, not my relationship status. The first thing I did upon returning to the office was call an all-hands meeting. “Starting today, we are restructuring our client portfolio. All active accounts and pending campaigns with Montgomery Enterprises and its subsidiaries are suspended immediately.” The room erupted into murmurs of shock. My managing partner and closest friend, Natalie, was the first to speak up. “Ann, are you insane? The Montgomery accounts make up nearly half of our annual revenue! You can’t just cut them off. We’ll starve!” I looked at her, my expression calm. “Natalie, I understand your concern. But there are some checks that aren’t worth cashing. As for the revenue gap, I’ll find a way to plug it.” She wanted to argue, but I raised a hand, silencing the room. I knew it was a massive gamble. But I also knew that as long as I kept even a single thread tied to Thomas, I would never truly be free. I had to sever it completely. Predictably, the news traveled fast. Within hours, Thomas called Natalie’s phone. She put it on speaker, looking at me nervously. “Where is Ann? Put her on the phone!” Thomas’s voice was laced with suppressed fury. Natalie swallowed hard. “Mr. Montgomery, Ann is currently in a meeting.” “A meeting? What meeting could possibly be more important than this? You tell her that if she keeps up this childish tantrum, I’m going to pull all my investments. Her pathetic little agency won’t last a single week without my backing!” I reached over and took the phone from Natalie’s hand. “Mr. Montgomery, is there a problem?” There was a sudden, sharp silence on the line. “Ann,” he said, his voice dropping. “You finally decided to talk. What is this stunt? Are you trying to force my hand?” I let out a soft laugh. “You think too highly of yourself, Thomas. I’m simply clearing out the trash. I’ve never liked using secondhand items.” I ended the call before he could respond. Natalie stared at me, her mouth slightly open. “Ann, that was incredibly harsh.” I shrugged. “When dealing with a rabid dog, you have to be fiercer than they are.” The next two weeks were brutal. Losing our anchor client put the agency’s cash flow in jeopardy. Several prospective clients, having caught wind of our fallout with the Montgomery empire, backed out of negotiations at the last minute. The staff was anxious, and rumors of impending layoffs began to circulate. Natalie was practically pulling her hair out. “Ann, we’re sinking. Maybe you should just throw him a bone? Just a quick apology to smooth things over?” I kept my eyes on my laptop screen, editing a fresh pitch deck. “Natalie, take a look at this.” I spun the screen toward her. It was a deck for an emerging technology startup called Apex Tech. They had developed a groundbreaking consumer software, but they lacked the marketing clout to launch it successfully. Natalie frowned as she scanned the slides. “Apex Tech? I’ve heard of them. They’re basically working out of a garage. No capital, no corporate backing. Even if we pull off a miracle for them, we’ll barely cover our overhead.” I closed my laptop. “Sometimes, you have to look at the long game. I trust my gut on this one.” I personally led our team to meet with the founder of Apex Tech, Liam. He was a young, sharp engineer with clear-cut features and a quiet, intense focus. But the moment he started talking about his product, his eyes lit up with an infectious, brilliant passion. I respected that drive. We clicked instantly, mapping out a bold launch strategy over a single cup of coffee. To prove our commitment, I offered him an unprecedented deal. “We won’t charge you any upfront retainer fees. Instead, we’ll take a percentage of the sales revenue once the product launches.” Liam looked stunned. “Ann, are you running a charity?” I smiled. “I told you, I believe in this product. And I believe in you.” To celebrate the signed contract, Liam insisted on taking me to dinner at a quiet, cozy bistro downtown. Halfway through our main course, my phone vibrated with an unfamiliar number. I slid the bar to answer, and Mrs. Montgomery’s trembling voice came through the speaker. “Ann, you need to come to Saint Jude’s Hospital right now,” she gasped, her voice cracked with panic. “Thomas was in a terrible car accident.”

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I have a terrible temper. My brother is the only person in the world who can tolerate it. Everyone around us laughs at him, calling him an obsessively doting fool with a massive sister complex. But he always shrugs it off with absolute pride. “She’s my little sister. What’s wrong with spoiling her a bit?” But one day, my brother changed. He suddenly drew a sharp line between us, avoiding me at every turn. When I blocked his car in the middle of the street, he wouldn’t even roll down the window to look at me. His voice came through the glass, flat and distant. “David, it’s time you learned to grow up.” I thought my brother didn’t want me anymore. Until I caught him drunk, locked inside his room, sobbing in the dark. “System, how much longer until the real son comes back?” “Can I really not be good to my David anymore?” A mechanical voice replied, dripping with exasperated frustration. “Get it through your head. They are the actual blood siblings. You’re just an imposter. Can you please wake up?” Listening from outside the door, the corners of my mouth slowly curled into a smile. So, my brother and I aren’t related at all. 1 I knew from a very young age that I wasn’t normal. When I was five years old, some relatives were teasing me at a family dinner. They pointed to the dish of stewed meat on the table and claimed it was the pet rabbit I had been raising. They laughed, their faces twisted with cruel amusement. “Well? You raised it yourself. Doesn’t it taste delicious?” I remained silent for a moment. Then, I picked up the boiling kettle from the side table and poured the scalding water directly over the hand of my uncle, the one laughing the loudest. The skin on his hand turned instantly white. Cooked. As the scent of scalded flesh rose alongside his pig-like shrieks of agony, I blinked innocently. “That’s your right hand, the one that grew up with you. Why don’t you taste it and tell me if it’s delicious?” The dining room erupted into utter chaos. Amidst the frantic shouting of relatives branding me a monster, my father, blind with rage, grabbed a heavy wooden cane to strike me. But the blow never landed on me. My brother had thrown himself over my body, taking the hit. His face was pale, his eyelashes trembling with pain. Yet, he carefully pulled a small, snowy-white ball from his coat. “David,” he whispered, his voice incredibly soft and soothing. “Don’t worry. Your rabbit is alive. I found him in the storage room.” “As long as I’m here, nothing will happen to you or your rabbit.” “I promise.” My brother was nine years old that year. He silently took a brutal beating for me. In the middle of the night, my mother wept as she applied ointment to his bruised back. “Your father wasn’t even trying to hit you. Why did you have to interfere?” “David is a psychopath. Who throws boiling water on an elder over a simple joke?” My brother shook his head, his expression dead serious. “It wasn’t a joke. It would have broken her heart.” I stood outside his door, listening in the shadows. The dark, violent urge that had flared up inside me because of my mother’s harsh words was miraculously put to rest by the gentle sound of his voice. In the dozen years that followed, my temper grew more unpredictable and volatile. My parents looked at me with a mixture of fear and disgust. Only my brother, Ashton, behaved like a stubborn, single-minded machine, firmly believing that I was a fragile little sister who needed his constant protection. He tolerated every single one of my flaws. He even fought with our parents for my sake. “If you had given David a normal, loving environment to grow up in, she wouldn’t be like this! My sister has always been the sweetest girl!” His friends couldn’t stand it. “We’ve seen overprotective brothers, but you’re just living in denial, Ashton.” “Is there any chance your sister is actually the opposite of sweet?” “If you keep enabling her like this, something terrible is going to happen.” Ashton only countered with absolute confidence. “David is my sister. What’s wrong with spoiling her?” 2 During my senior year of high school, Ashton, who had skipped two grades, graduated from university and began taking over the family business. He was drowning in work, yet he made it a point to drive to my school every single afternoon to pick me up. One day, the school bully tried to corner me to confess his love. I ended up beating him until he fell in line, and he ended up carrying my backpack to the car like a loyal servant. As the car door clicked shut, the interior fell into a dim silence. Ashton adjusted his cuffs, asking in a gentle tone, “David, are you dating someone?” I shook my head, chewing on a strawberry he had just fed me. “Good. It’s better not to focus on that right now. Your senior year is the most critical time.” He spoke softly, almost to himself. “I don’t mean to interfere in your life, but this stage is very important. Besides, that boy who carried your bag earlier, he wasn’t very pleasant to look at. You should keep your distance from him.” Ashton’s personality had always been incredibly mild. This was the first time I had ever heard him use such a sharp, critical word to describe someone else. I bit into the tip of the strawberry, quietly studying him. His hair had grown a bit long, falling in soft, messy strands across his forehead. His eyes were wide and luminous, like still water. Because of his corporate meetings, he was dressed in a tailored suit, but he still looked as harmless and soft as a white cloud. I had always known my brother was beautiful. His skin was as fair as delicate porcelain, and the tips of his ears and knuckles carried a faint, rosy tint. When he tilted his head, his soft hair brushed against his neck, revealing the faint blue veins beneath his skin. He looked a lot like the pet rabbit I used to have. The rabbit had died when I was eight. I hadn’t shed a single tear while burying it, but Ashton had stood beside me, crying his eyes out. When I asked him why he was crying, he said, “David, I know you’re hurting. You just don’t know how to express it normally.” A strange, familiar warmth bubbled up in my chest. Staring at the delicate pulse in his neck, I asked with a touch of anxiety, “Ashton, will you be my brother forever?” He answered without a moment’s hesitation. “Of course.” But he lied to me. 3 Just before my twentieth birthday, I realized Ashton was actively avoiding me. My parents had washed their hands of me long ago, so it was Ashton who had moved me into my university dorm. On his very first day in the city, he bought an apartment right next to the campus. “This way, you don’t have to worry about getting used to dorm life or dealing with difficult roommates.” He thought of everything. In reality, I had already learned how to mask my behavior perfectly over the years, knowing exactly how to make people trust and like me. But I liked the feeling of being shielded by him, so I simply nodded and agreed. My mother was right about one thing. I was a monster. My entire existence was like a thousand invisible threads wrapped tightly around Ashton. As long as he stayed still, I would remain docile and quiet. But the moment he tried to break free, those threads would cut into his flesh, binding us together forever. My brother belonged to me, and me alone. That was a truth that had been rooted in my mind since childhood. Apart from the days when my schedule was packed with classes, I spent almost every night at the apartment. Ashton would usually buy groceries and come home before sunset to cook for me. But on this particular afternoon, I unlocked the door to find a cold, empty dark living room. I checked my phone. It wasn’t unusual for him to be delayed by urgent corporate meetings, but he always sent me a detailed text beforehand. Today, my notification bar was entirely blank. Our last chat was from three days ago, when I had sent a brief message: I’m out of pads. He had never replied. I dialed his secretary’s number. “Where is my brother?” The secretary stammered, offering vague excuses. I let out a soft laugh. “Should we discuss this in person instead?” The man was terrified of me. Hearing the tone of my voice, he hesitated for only a fraction of a second before cracking. “Mr. Hale isn’t avoiding you on purpose. He has an important charity gala tonight, and a major contract to finalize.” “The fact that you are the one explaining this to me proves he is avoiding me on purpose,” I said flatly. The secretary fell silent, not daring to speak. I hung up, grabbed my keys, and drove toward the venue. As I drove, the sun began to set, painting the horizon in a violent, fiery crimson. For some reason, my mind drifted back to a memory from several years ago. I was fourteen. My mother had taken advantage of Ashton’s study-abroad trip to lock me away in a strict behavioral modification school. By the time Ashton rushed back to rescue me, I had already set the main building on fire. “David!” He had held me so tightly his entire body was shaking worse than mine. “Don’t be scared. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Actually, I hadn’t been scared at all. But wrapped in his warm, trembling embrace, a single tear had escaped my eye. I had blinked it away, mimicking the pathetic, fragile tone of a normal girl. “Ashton, you have to protect me.” “I will. I promise you, nothing like this will ever happen again.” I had smiled, thoroughly satisfied. Through the dancing flames, I saw my mother cowering behind the police cars, staring at me as if I were a demon incarnate. “Ashton! She isn’t your sister, she’s a monster!” she had screamed hysterically. “She started the fire! She’s only fourteen and she’s already doing this! If we don’t lock her up for rehabilitation, she’ll destroy us all!” Ashton hadn’t even looked back at her. He lifted me into his arms, his voice colder than ice. “She doesn’t need discipline. She needs love.” I had pressed my face against his chest, inhaling his clean, comforting scent. It was different from anyone else’s. He was supposed to go back to his studies abroad, but after that day, he changed his plans entirely. He stayed in the country for college, took over the family firm early, and refused to leave my side for more than forty-eight hours. He even accompanied me on my high school graduation trip. So why was he suddenly attending business dinners without telling me? 4 I parked my car across from the grand entrance of the venue. After a few minutes, a familiar black luxury sedan pulled up to the valet. The window rolled down, revealing Ashton’s strikingly handsome, pale face. He gave a polite nod to the security guard, handing over his invitation. Over the years, he had learned how to project a cold, commanding authority in public. But the soft, yielding, and gentle sides of him were reserved for me alone. Seeing him eased the tension in my chest. I smiled, preparing to step out of my car. But then, the rear passenger window rolled down. A beautiful woman leaned slightly forward, her lips curved into an elegant smile. Her fingers, resting casually against the car door, were long and slender. And on her middle finger sat a simple white-gold band, identical to the one I wore. 5 My mind went completely blank, a loud ringing filling my ears. My fingers instinctively moved to trace the middle finger of my own hand, where an identical white-gold band rested. It was the gift I had made him pick out with me on my eighteenth birthday. I remembered his friend asking him in disbelief after we bought them, “Ashton, do you actually know what a ring on the middle finger represents? You guys are siblings!” Ashton had simply given him a puzzled look. “David wanted it. Why wouldn’t I listen to her?” His friend had been left entirely speechless. Now, looking across the street, I watched Ashton step out of the car. As he adjusted his cuffs, his bare fingers were fully visible. He had taken the ring off. The ring he had promised me he would never remove. I pushed my car door open and walked toward him. 6 “Ashton.” He froze at the sound of my voice. He didn’t turn around, keeping his back to me as he spoke in a muffled, strained voice. “David? Why are you here? Go home.” His broad shoulders under the tailored suit were incredibly rigid. Because he refused to face me, I had to crane my neck to catch the tight, strained line of his jaw. He was running from me. Before I could say anything else, the woman from the car walked over, her silk dress rustling. She brushed a stray curl past her shoulder, offering a warm smile. “So this is David? Your sister?” “Yes,” Ashton muttered. “Since she’s here, why don’t we bring her inside to grab a bite?” She offered her hand to me, the white-gold ring on her finger catching the streetlights, sending a sharp stab of irritation through my chest. Before my hand could move, Ashton suddenly spun around and slapped her hand down. “She can’t go in,” he said, his brow furrowing with a strange, nervous tension. He remained silent for several seconds before looking at me. “David, go back to the apartment. I’ll have Arthur order some takeout for you. I’m going to be very busy for the next few weeks, so I won’t be able to come home. Take care of yourself.” Without waiting for my response, he turned and walked briskly into the banquet hall. The woman lingered for a second, looking at me with an amused glint in her eyes. She pulled a pen from her clutch, scribbling a number on a card before handing it to me. “Don’t be sad. If you want to see your brother, call me anytime.” Sad? I climbed back into my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turned white. In the rearview mirror, my lips were bitten raw, bleeding slightly. In the quiet, confined space, a flood of dark, chaotic emotions rushed through me. It wasn’t sadness. It was a violent, suffocating possessiveness. Anger. And a dark, thrilling excitement. Had Ashton finally realized what a monster I was? Was he trying to run away from me because of it? Did that mean… I finally had a reason to lock him away in my apartment, so he could never leave my side again? 7 When I got back to the apartment, it was pitch black. Ashton hadn’t been home in three days, and even his scent on the pillows had faded. I decided to head back to the university dorms. My roommates were surprised to see me. “David! You don’t have any classes for the next two days. Aren’t you spending the weekend with your brother?” I tilted my head, offering a rare, slight smile. “I missed you guys. Is that a crime?” Three pairs of eyes stared at me in absolute shock. “Just kidding.” I tossed my bag onto my desk and opened my laptop. My roommate, Harper, walked over to offer me some fruit, but her eyes froze when she caught sight of my screen. “David… what is that?” I turned to look at her. “What’s wrong?” “Did… did someone make you mad?” I rested my chin in my hand, thinking about it seriously. “Not exactly. My brother is just being difficult.” Harper’s voice dropped to a nervous whisper. “David, look, I don’t mean anything by this, but we live in a civilized society. If someone’s bothering you, you can talk to them. Or you can have your brother handle it, right? Some lines shouldn’t be crossed.” I stared into her eyes, completely serious. “What if the person who made me angry is my brother?” “Haha, no way. Your brother is the king of overprotective siblings. We’ve only met him a few times and we could tell he worships the ground you walk on.” She paused, swallowing hard as she looked back at the search results for industrial-grade locks on my screen. “Wait… you’re not planning on using those on him, are you?”

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1 My next-door neighbor was going out of town for a week and asked me to check on her eighty-year-old mother every day. I was just about to agree when several lines of glowing text drifted across my vision. [Don’t agree under any circumstances! The old lady passed away days ago, but the neighbor is keeping it a secret.] [She is waiting for you to walk in so she can pin the entire thing on you.] [The old lady’s bank account is missing twenty thousand dollars. She will claim you stole that too.] [A fresh college graduate, framed for manslaughter and grand theft. Your dream job will be ruined because of this.] The neighbor pressed the keys into my palm. “I’m counting on you, Naomi.” I took a step back, my hands turning cold. “I’m so sorry, Brenda, but I have to go out of town for work too.” Brenda froze. “Why?” The warm smile on her face stiffened. I gripped the phone in my pocket, my fingertips icy. “It’s a last-minute assignment from my company. There’s nothing I can do.” “Wait, Naomi, listen to me.” Brenda took a step closer, her voice growing urgent. “My boss specifically arranged this business trip for me. I can’t get out of it. You have to help me.” “I’m sorry, Brenda. My trip is already set in stone. I really can’t help.” My mind was in complete chaos as I spoke. We had been neighbors for a year, and Brenda had always been incredibly kind to me. When I first moved in and didn’t even have my kitchen set up, she brought over a plate of hot, homemade dumplings. When it rained while I was at work, she gathered the laundry drying on my balcony, folding it neatly and leaving it by my door. When I had a terrible fever, I called her at two in the morning, and she drove me to the emergency room without a single complaint, staying with me until dawn. I couldn’t understand. Why would someone who had been so good to me want to ruin my life? The glowing text continued to drift before my eyes. [Stop overthinking it. She was only nice to you because you were useful to her.] [Think back. Every single time she did you a favor, didn’t she casually mention that you should go check on her mother?] A cold dread washed over me. It was true. Every time she brought me food, helped with a package, or brought in my laundry, she would always smile and add, “My mom is home alone. If you have some free time, go keep her company for a bit.” For an entire year, I had gone to her apartment every two or three days to wash dishes, sweep the floors, and chat with her mother. [See? You were just a free nanny. She used a few cheap meals to secure a whole year of free labor.] My back felt cold. Brenda was still pushing. “Naomi, it’s just one week. Five days, even. Can’t you push your trip back?” “I can’t, Brenda. I really can’t.” She stared at me for a long moment, then suddenly pulled out her phone. A notification pinged on my screen. It was a transfer of one thousand dollars. “Take this,” Brenda said quickly. “Just help me look after her for a week, please?” [The calculations are brilliant. A thousand dollars to cover up a twenty-thousand-dollar theft.] [Do not accept the money! If you take it, you are officially in her trap. She will claim you took the money and didn’t do the job, or accuse you of stealing even more.] [Stand your ground. Do not give in.] I tapped my screen and declined the transfer. “I don’t want the money, Brenda. I really can’t do it. Why don’t you hire a professional caregiver? Or perhaps look into a temporary senior care facility?” “How could I trust a stranger?” her voice suddenly rose, sharp and defensive. “A caregiver wouldn’t look after my mother properly, and things would go missing from the apartment. You are the only one I trust, Naomi.” “But I genuinely do not have the time.” “You!” She took a deep breath, her eyes narrowing. “Naomi, let me ask you one last time. Are you really going to refuse to help me?” “I have no choice, Brenda.” Her expression darkened. “Fine. I see what kind of person you are now. I was always so good to you. I brought you food, saved your laundry, and drove you to the hospital in the middle of the night. Now, when I ask for one simple favor, you turn your back on me? I wasted my kindness on a leech.” 2 Her voice echoed down the hallway. The door to apartment 602 opened, and Mrs. Gable stuck her head out. “What’s going on? What’s all the noise about?” Brenda’s face immediately shifted, twisting into an expression of helpless grief. “Mrs. Gable, I’m begging Naomi to help watch my mother for just a week because I have to travel for work. She refuses to help, and she’s lying about having her own business trip.” Mrs. Gable frowned, looking at me with disapproval. “Naomi, Brenda has been incredibly good to you. We’ve all seen it. How can you be so ungrateful? She’s helped you so many times, and you can’t return one favor?” “Exactly,” Mr. Henderson from 603 said, stepping out of his apartment. “Young people need to understand gratitude. Brenda has looked after you plenty of times, hasn’t she?” I opened my mouth to defend myself. “No, I really have to—” “A business trip? Who are you kidding?” Brenda interrupted with a cold laugh. “You usually spend your weekends locked in your apartment, and now you suddenly have a business trip? Nobody believes that.” A suffocating frustration pressed against my chest. These people only saw the few bowls of soup she had brought me. None of them saw the dishes I had washed, the floors I had swept, or the hours I had spent keeping her mother company over the past year. I clenched my fists. “Brenda, find someone else. I cannot help you.” I turned to walk back into my apartment. “Don’t you dare walk away!” Brenda yelled behind me. “I’m going to call your company right now and ask if there’s actually a business trip.” She dialed a number on speakerphone, right in front of Mrs. Gable and Mr. Henderson. “Hello, is this the human resources department? I’m Naomi’s neighbor. I wanted to verify if she has an urgent business trip scheduled for this week?” I couldn’t hear the exact response from the receiver, but I saw the slow, triumphant curl of Brenda’s lips. She hung up the phone and turned to face me, looking like a hunter who had finally cornered her prey. “Your HR department says there is absolutely no business trip scheduled for you. You lied to me, Naomi.” The hallway fell into a tense silence. Mrs. Gable shook her head. “How can a young girl lie like that?” Mr. Henderson sighed. “If you don’t want to help, just say so. There’s no need to make up stories.” “I…” “You just don’t care!” Brenda stepped forward, grabbing my wrist so tightly her nails dug into my skin. “I treated you like family, and this is how you repay me?” I yanked my arm back. “Don’t touch me, Brenda.” “Touch you? I’d dirty my hands touching an ungrateful leech like you!” Several other doors along the corridor opened as more neighbors peered out to watch the spectacle. My face burned with humiliation. “Brenda, I told you, I cannot help you. Find someone else.” “Who am I supposed to find? My mother is eighty years old, and I have to leave for a week! What am I supposed to do?” “Hire a nanny, call your relatives, or use a care service.” “Easy for you to say!” I took a deep breath and chose to remain silent. I pulled out my keys, unlocked my door, stepped inside, and locked it behind me. Outside, Brenda began banging furiously on the wood. “Naomi! Open this door!” “Why are you hiding? Do you feel guilty?” “You ungrateful wretch! I did so much for you, and you treat me like this?” I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. My mind was racing, the glowing text echoing in my thoughts. [The old lady passed away days ago.] [She is waiting for you to walk in so she can frame you for the death.] [The security camera will show that only you entered the apartment.] [They will accuse you of stealing twenty thousand dollars.] I opened my eyes, staring at the ceiling. Was the mother really dead? I didn’t know if it was from illness or something worse, but one thing was certain. When Brenda asked me to watch her mother, the old lady was already gone. I pulled out my phone and dialed the police. “Hello, I’d like to report a situation. I suspect the elderly resident in apartment 601 has passed away, and her family has not reported it.” 3 The dispatcher paused for a second. “What is the address, please?” “Maplewood Apartments, Building B, Apartment 602. The target apartment is next door, 601.” “Understood. We will dispatch officers to the scene. Please keep your line open.” After hanging up, I opened my phone. The neighborhood group chat was already in an uproar. Brenda had posted a long message. [@All Neighbors, please look at this. I asked my neighbor, Naomi, to help watch my elderly mother for a week while I travel for work. Not only did she refuse, but she also lied about a business trip. I’ve always been so good to her, bringing her food, helping her, and even driving her to the hospital in the middle of the night. This is how she repays me. What an ungrateful leech!] Attached were three images. The first was a clear photo of my ID card. The second was my phone number. The third was a photo of my front door, showing my exact apartment number. [This is her information. Everyone should know what kind of person she is.] My blood ran cold. Within minutes, dozens of messages flooded the chat. “This is terrible.” “While helping is optional, Brenda really did look after her.” “Young people these days have no sense of gratitude.” “Is it really okay to post her personal ID like that?” “She brought it on herself. Anyone would be furious.” Then, stranger requests started popping up on my personal account. The first message I accepted read, “Are you the ungrateful leech from the group chat?” Another unknown number called. The moment I answered, a voice screamed, “Why don’t you go jump off a bridge?” I hung up, took screenshots of every single message, and saved them. More glowing text flashed before me. [Stay strong. Once the police arrive, the truth will come out.] [Don’t be afraid. She is the one who should be terrified.] [You are doing everything right. Keep the records, call the police, and wait.] I set my phone down, then picked it up again, my palms slick with sweat. The banging on my door continued. “Naomi! Are you going to open this door or not?” “Fine, you don’t have to watch her.” Her voice had shifted from rage to a cold, calculated tone. “I have to leave, and my mother will be left unattended. This is your fault. Since you won’t help, you will pay for her professional care.” “Ten thousand dollars.” “Give me ten thousand dollars so I can hire a service, and we’ll call it even.” I almost laughed at the sheer absurdity. Ten thousand dollars? [She is desperate.] [Ignore her. Keep the door locked and wait for the police.] I gritted my teeth, remaining silent. “Naomi, did you hear me?” “Ten thousand dollars. Consider it repayment for the favors I did you this past year. The food, the laundry, the gas money for the hospital, it all adds up to more than that anyway.” “Why aren’t you speaking? Are you feeling guilty?” I walked quietly to the door and looked through the peephole. Brenda was standing there, her arms crossed over her chest. About five minutes later, two figures in police uniforms appeared in the corridor. I unlocked the door and stepped out. Brenda sneered when she saw me. “Oh, so you finally decided to show your face?” I ignored her completely and addressed the two officers. “Officers, I have reason to believe the elderly woman in apartment 601 has passed away.”

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1 After burying three husbands, my gambling-addicted father finally found a way to cash in on my curse. He sold me for three million dollars. He forced me into a binding marriage pact with the nine-hundred-year-old patriarch of a pureblood vampire clan. Just as I expected, my curse struck again. On our wedding night, the ancient lord reached the end of his unnaturally long life and crumbled into a pile of black ash. But he left behind half of his bloodline empire. He also left behind his pureblood heir, Eli Blackwood. Eli looked no older than twenty-eight. He kicked open the heavy iron doors of the bridal suite, grabbed me by the arm, and dragged me down to the crypt to keep vigil over the old man. The ancestral hall was suffocating. Ancient portraits lined the stone walls, and the room was packed with pale, cold-eyed vampires. My stomach twisted into knots. I was terrified they would blame my “Black Widow” curse for the patriarch’s death and drain me dry on the spot. I decided to strike first. I looked up at Eli and put on my most comforting face. “Grandson, your grandfather lived a long, full life. I am sure his soul has found eternal peace in the Sanguine Abyss.” Eli’s eyebrow twitched violently. His crimson eyes widened in sheer, absolute disbelief. “What did you just call me?” I swallowed hard, my throat dry. “According to the blood pact, I am technically your step-grandmother. So, you can just call me Grandma.” Almost instantly, a chorus of muffled snorts and choked laughter erupted from the crowd of vampires behind us. I had been dragged into the Blackwood Estate entirely against my will. “Serena, this is your destiny. Human women must rely on the strong.” My father spat those words at me before sneaking out the back gates. Not long after he left, the servants’ horrified screams echoed through the halls. The Old Lord was gone. He was technically my fourth husband. Honestly, my partners were dying faster and faster. This one did not even survive the wedding night. A butler had approached me shortly after, handing me a glowing parchment bound by blood magic. He forced me to sign it. Only after the ink dried did he casually mention that the Old Lord left me billions in assets, with one specific condition attached. I was required to personally care for his pureblood heir, Eli. I assumed the heir was a newly awakened child. Instead, I was staring at a fully mature, incredibly dangerous pureblood. My heart hammered against my ribs. Before I could even speak, Eli had kicked the door in, his eyes glowing with a lethal red light. “Serena. Come here.” Before I could react, he seized my wrist. The pureblood strength was terrifying. My bones felt like they were going to snap. “I have no idea what filthy tricks you used to bewitch my grandfather. But since you stepped foot into this estate, you are going to kneel at his altar.” I stumbled behind him the entire way down to the crypt. When we arrived, he threw me onto the freezing marble floor. He towered over me, his jaw clenched tight. “Kneel. Pay your respects.” I forced down my panic and glanced around. The room was full of lesser vampires from the branch families. The air was thick with a crushing, predatory energy. A black coffin sat in the center of the room. It only contained the clothes the Old Lord left behind. I stared at the portrait on the tombstone, sheer terror gripping my chest. I knew vampires were not like humans. If Eli decided I was responsible for this, I would not leave this crypt alive. Eli let out a cold, merciless scoff. “What? You don’t want to kneel? Then why did you sell yourself for such a high price to marry into this family?” I stared back at him. Survival instinct took over, and I forced a flattering smile. “Grandson, your grandfather was nine hundred years old. That is a glorious age to pass. I am sure he will live a long life in his next reincarnation.” Dead silence fell over the crypt. Eli’s face turned so dark it was terrifying. “What did you call me?” “Grandson. According to the pact, I am your grandmother…” Step-grandmother is still a grandmother, right? The moment the words left my mouth, someone in the dark corner failed to suppress a laugh. Eli shot a lethal glare toward the shadows. The vampire instantly dropped his head, trembling uncontrollably. “Get out. All of you.” No one dared to argue. The new Lord of the estate ruled with an iron fist. Once the heavy doors clicked shut, Eli crouched down. His cold fingers clamped around my jaw. The pureblood aura pressing down on me made it impossible to breathe. “Serena, you had better behave. Do not try any of your cheap little tricks in my castle.” I struggled to open my mouth to explain. I was so incredibly nervous that a drop of my saliva accidentally dripped onto the back of his hand. My eyes went wide. I tried to suck it back in, but it was too late. Deep, visceral disgust flashed through Eli’s eyes. He shoved me away so hard my head snapped to the side. “Serena! Do you have a death wish?!” I shook my head frantically. I did not want to die. If I wanted to die, I would have drowned myself in the river the first time my father sold me to an abusive mutant. “Stay here and keep vigil by yourself.” He turned on his heel and slammed the crypt door behind him. I picked myself up from the marble floor. Looking at the Old Lord’s portrait, I actually felt a little safer. I found a velvet prayer cushion, curled up in the darkest corner of the crypt, and forced my eyes shut to sleep. 2 The heavy wooden doors burst open at the crack of dawn. A cold-eyed maid woke me up. “Mrs. Blackwood, the young master demands your presence.” They gave me no time to react. Two emotionless servants grabbed me by the arms and practically dragged me up the stairs to the dining hall. I wanted to scream. I wanted to tell them I had my own two feet. Eli was elegantly enjoying his breakfast. He was sipping a crystal glass of warm, dark blood. Sitting next to him was a stunningly beautiful female vampire named Victoria. I had heard the whispers among the servants. Victoria was his childhood sweetheart. Their bloodlines were highly compatible. Everyone expected her to become his official blood-bound mate. “Serena. Get over here.” Eli’s voice gave nothing away. I was still wearing my elaborate human wedding dress from yesterday. Victoria glanced at me, a flash of pure venom in her crimson eyes. “How amusing. The Old Lord just turned to ash, yet here you are, parading around in a bright human wedding gown. Do you have absolutely no respect for the Blackwood family?” Of course I respected them. But did Eli give me a single second to change my clothes? I kept my head down, playing the part of the submissive, useless human. “Victoria, eat your food,” Eli interrupted her with a flat tone. She slammed her glass down on the table, muttering under her breath. “Despicable, scheming human.” She stood up and stormed out of the dining room. Eli and I were left staring at each other in awkward silence. He clearly had no intention of talking to me. He wiped his mouth with a linen napkin and walked away. The funeral happened quickly. I pinned a white rose to my chest and put on my best performance, constantly wiping away fake tears. The vampire aristocrats who attended the service looked at me like I was a freak of nature. The Old Lord’s will was genuinely incomprehensible to them. He had decreed that I, a fragile human, would co-own half of the Blackwood empire and its territories alongside Eli. Without my signature, Eli could not access the full ancestral power of his bloodline. He was trapped with me. He had no choice but to keep me in the estate. Eli walked up beside me and lowered his voice. “Stop acting. Come with me.” I followed him into a side parlor. My father was standing there. He rubbed his hands together, an oily, flattering smile on his face. “Lord Eli, can I take my daughter home now?” My spine stiffened. A cold wave of dread washed over me. Who was my father planning to sell me to next? Some underground monster? Another dying mutant? “The Old Lord made the terms clear. Three million dollars bought her permanently,” Eli said coldly. My father’s face turned green. “I raised this girl with my own two hands! It wasn’t easy for a human! Since the Old Lord is dead, your kind should release her!” Eli cast a freezing glance at me. “Do you want to leave with him?” I shook my head violently. If I went with my father, I would be thrown into a living hell. Life in the vampire castle was terrifying, but at least they fed me. My father’s face twisted in rage. He pointed a shaking finger at me and screamed. “You ungrateful little bitch! I fed you, I clothed you, and this is how you repay me?!” Eli gave a subtle nod to the vampire guards. A hand clamped brutally over my father’s mouth. He was dragged out of the parlor without a shred of resistance. I let out a long breath I did not realize I was holding. Eli let out a mocking scoff. “Serena, stay in line. Stop playing these pathetic little games with me.” I knew he harbored a massive prejudice against me. Anyone would think I was a calculating gold-digger who used seduction and black magic to manipulate an ancient vampire. After the funeral, I was confined to the west wing of the castle. Eli ordered everyone to stay away from me. The servants treated me like a ghost. They delivered my human meals on time, but they never made eye contact or spoke a single word to me. This isolation lasted until one weekend, when Victoria hosted a party for the elite vampire socialites in the castle gardens. I heard the noise and walked down from my room. Victoria took one look at the beautiful gown I was wearing, and the hatred in her eyes turned lethal. “Well, well. How does it feel to play the grand lady of the Blackwood estate? The Old Lord is dead. There is no one left to protect a filthy human like you.” The vampire heiresses surrounding her chimed in, their voices dripping with mockery. “I did a background check on her. She has been married three times. Every single husband died violently. She is cursed.” “Everyone knows Lord Eli only has eyes for our Victoria. As if he would ever touch a cheap, dirty human.” They pushed and shoved me into the center of their circle. I kept my head bowed. I knew I could not afford to offend these supernatural elites. I just swallowed the humiliation in silence. Suddenly, a glass of freezing red wine was thrown directly into my face. The dark liquid dripped from my hair and stained my skin. “A dirty bloodline like yours does not deserve to wear something this expensive.” I gripped the fabric of my skirt. I had seen this dress in a human fashion magazine. It was a custom haute couture piece worth fifty thousand dollars. My own father sold me for less than a fraction of that. “Look at her pathetic face! I bet if I slapped her, she wouldn’t even dare to breathe.” The vampire woman who spoke grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back. Smack! Smack! Two blistering slaps landed on my cheeks. The pain was so sharp that tears instantly welled in my eyes. Victoria leaned elegantly against the garden sofa, swirling the wine in her glass, quietly enjoying my humiliation. 3 A butler bowed low at the garden entrance. “The young master has returned.” The words barely settled before Eli walked through the archway, wearing a long black trench coat. He glanced at me, his face an emotionless mask. Victoria’s triumphant smile froze. The female vampires who had just assaulted me stepped back, suddenly looking incredibly nervous. I kept my head down and said absolutely nothing. Silence and submission were the only things that provided me with a shred of safety in this icy prison. “Victoria, who gave you permission to bring these people here?” Eli’s voice was dangerously quiet. She stood up quickly, reaching out to hook her arm through his. “Eli, I was just so bored. Is it a crime to throw a little garden party?” Eli sidestepped, avoiding her touch entirely. He looked at me, but spoke to the maids. “Take Serena upstairs. Clean her up. She is coming with me to run an errand.” Victoria’s body went completely rigid. She forced a painfully awkward smile. I turned around obediently and went upstairs to bathe and change. Looking in the bathroom mirror, I stared at my swollen cheek and let out a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. By the time I walked back downstairs, the garden was completely empty. All the guests had fled. Eli was sitting on the leather sofa. He looked up at me. “Why didn’t you fight back?” I gave him a tired look. “Would it make a difference?” They dared to humiliate me not because I was human, but because they thought Eli wanted me broken. His silence was their permission. He went quiet for a moment. He looked away, his voice dropping slightly. “It will not happen again. I apologize on Victoria’s behalf. She is a bit spoiled.” I stared at the floor and stayed silent. He raised an eyebrow. “Are you holding a grudge?” “No,” I answered flatly. His lips pressed into a thin line. He stared at me for a long time but did not push the issue. He called the estate doctor to treat the swelling on my face, completely forgetting his previous order to take me out on his errands. Late that night, my phone buzzed. It was an unexpected call from Victoria. As soon as I answered, she started screaming insults into the receiver. “Serena! What kind of black magic are you using to make Eli protect you?! He grounded me! He forced my father to lock me inside my own house because of what happened today!” I frowned, thoroughly confused. “Protect me? I am his step-grandmother. We don’t even have a real relationship.” “Stop playing dumb with me! I am telling you right now, Eli belongs to me! We are bound by destiny and blood! A cheap human like you will never get your hands on him!” She slammed the phone down before I could say a word. She was completely insane. I was just trying to survive the week, yet she was guarding Eli like every female on the planet wanted him. “Psychopath,” I muttered under my breath. I put my phone on the nightstand and turned around to unbutton my collar. My breath caught in my throat. I locked eyes with Eli. He was leaning casually against the doorframe of my bedroom. His crimson eyes glowed faintly in the dim light. I had no idea how long he had been standing there. I forced my racing heart to slow down. “My Lord, why are you in here?” “To sleep.” I took a deep breath. Was he going to steal my bedroom now, too? Whatever. The entire castle belonged to him. It was just a room. I quietly stepped toward the door, intending to leave. But Eli reached out and grabbed my wrist. His grip was tight. “Where are you going?” “To sleep in the guest room. Or the sofa.” His eyes shifted to the massive king-sized bed. “Is the bed not big enough for you?” I was speechless. I had no choice. I dragged a heavy quilt off the bed and curled up on the thick carpet on the floor. I was absolutely terrified of provoking him. I huddled into a tight ball, my mind racing a mile a minute, desperately trying to figure out a way to escape this castle. If I stayed here, these vampires were going to drive me completely insane. In the middle of the night, I was wide awake. Frustrated, I pulled a sewing needle from the nightstand drawer and started aggressively stabbing the corner of my pillow. I began whispering the most basic, superstitious human curses I knew. “Everyone who bullies me is a piece of trash. I hope my curse gets all of them…” I was powerless to fight back, so I relied on the oldest coping mechanism in the book. “My father is a bastard. Victoria is a bitch. Eli is a monster…” The moment his name left my lips, Eli sat straight up in bed. His voice cut through the dark like a knife. “Serena, what exactly are you whispering about?” I jolted, a cold sweat breaking over my skin. I shoved the needle deep into the carpet fibers, squeezed my eyes shut, and played dead. In the suffocating silence, I could feel the weight of his icy stare burning into my face for a very, very long time. Eventually, he laid back down. 4 When I woke up the next morning, the bed was cold. Eli was gone. He did not return to the castle for over two weeks. The next time I saw him was when the butler informed me that I was required to attend a massive, mixed-society gala for humans and vampires. I was going to be Eli’s official date. I felt a deep sense of dread and confusion, but in this castle, the word “no” did not exist for me. The moment we walked into the glittering ballroom, Victoria marched right up to us in a pair of stunning stilettos. “Eli, are you still angry with me?” His face remained completely indifferent. He looked at her and gave a low command. “Greet her.” Victoria bit her lip. She glared at me with absolute loathing, forcing two words through her gritted teeth. “Mrs. Blackwood.” The moment I heard that title, it felt like a bolt of lightning struck my brain. My mind went entirely blank. I whipped my head around to stare at Eli, all the blood draining from my face. He raised an eyebrow, looking slightly confused. “What’s wrong with you?” In that split second, every bizarre, creepy detail from the past few weeks clicked into place like a jigsaw puzzle. No wonder Victoria hated my guts. No wonder Eli insisted on sleeping in my bedroom. No wonder he always looked at me with such intense disgust. When my father used his dark magic to forge that marriage pact, the legal husband written on the parchment was not the dying Old Lord. It was the new pureblood leader. Eli. And on my wedding night, in front of the entire vampire hierarchy, I had boldly looked him in the eye and called him “grandson.” I was completely, utterly paralyzed.

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1 My engagement party with Billy was supposed to take place on a luxury cruise. We had agreed that I would bring my Gran, the only family I had left in this world. On the day of boarding, I waited at the pier for a long time. When Billy finally showed up, he wasn’t alone. He brought his childhood friend, Lily, her parents, and about seven or eight of her extended relatives. They were all holding keycards to the penthouse VIP suites. Every single one of them, except my Gran. I looked at Billy. “Where is Gran’s room card?” He was busy adjusting Lily’s mother’s silk shawl and didn’t even look up. “The VIP suites are fully booked.” “I got Gran a standard cabin on the lower deck.” The lower deck. Right next to the engine room. No windows. Reeking of diesel fumes. My Gran had a severe heart condition and crippling claustrophobia. She couldn’t handle stale air or tight spaces. My voice trembled. “Then why do all of Lily’s relatives have VIP cards?” Billy frowned. “Lily’s parents are older. They need a good environment to rest.” “Besides, her relatives were added at the last minute. I couldn’t exactly stick her family in the steerage, could I?” I looked at the loud, laughing crowd swarming around Billy. Suddenly, I felt like this engagement didn’t need to happen anymore. Lily walked over right then, her eyes looking a little glossy. “Stella, please don’t be mad at Billy.” “I can ask my aunt to give up her suite for your grandmother.” She paused, lowering her voice into a pathetic whisper. “It’s just that it’s my aunt’s first time on a luxury cruise, and she’s been looking forward to it for months. Plus, she gets a little seasick.” Billy immediately patted the back of Lily’s hand. “This has nothing to do with you. I made the arrangements.” He turned back to me, impatience dripping from his words. “Lily’s relatives are already here at the dock.” “We can’t just treat guests poorly.” A woman from Lily’s family chuckled under her breath nearby. “An old country lady would probably feel more at home in the bottom cabins anyway.” “The penthouse has too many rules. She’d probably just stain the carpets and make a fool of herself.” Billy definitely heard that. Yet all he said was, “They don’t mean any harm.” “Today is our engagement. It’s a happy day. Stop being so sensitive.” I stared him dead in the eye. “My Gran has severe heart disease and claustrophobia.” “You want her to sleep in a windowless box next to a roaring engine?” Billy’s brows knit together. “Stop making it sound so dramatic.” “Gran is used to living simply upstate. She won’t mind a standard cabin.” “Besides, I already tipped the crew to deliver her meals on time. It’s very convenient.” He said it so casually. But the moment I pictured my Gran’s hunched, tired back, a woman who had swallowed so much bitterness in her life, it felt like a fist was crushing my chest. My phone rang. It was Gran. The background noise was deafening, a relentless mechanical roar of the ship’s engines. Her voice was overly cautious, terrified of being a burden. “Stella, sweetheart, I made it to my room.” “It’s a very nice room. No windows, sure, but the lights are very bright! Don’t you worry about me.” A huge lump formed in my throat. “Gran, get out of there right now.” “I’m coming down to upgrade your room.” Gran panicked. “No, no, don’t waste your money!” “Billy set this up beautifully.” “I’ve never been on a ship this fancy. I’d just embarrass you two up there with the rich folks.” I heard a muffled, heavy wheeze over the line. She quickly pulled the phone away from her face, trying to hide it. “Don’t tell the girl,” I heard her whisper to herself. “It’s her big day. Don’t ruin it.” My eyes immediately filled with tears. “Gran, is your chest tight?” She forced a breathless laugh. “Not at all! I promise, perfectly fine. Just walked a little too fast down the stairs.” But a second later, a loud, irritated voice yelled in English in the background. “Hey, lady! Move your junk out of the hallway! You’re blocking the path!” Gran immediately started apologizing, her voice shrinking. “I’m so sorry, sir. I’m sorry. I’ll move it right now.” My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. I could picture it perfectly. My frail Gran, dragging her heavy, battered canvas bag, pressing herself against the wall of a dim, narrow corridor to let strangers pass. She had never left our small upstate town her entire life. Before this trip, she had been as excited as a little kid. Half a month ago, when I went back to pick her up, she was sitting under a dim lamp with her reading glasses on, sewing a dress. She had saved up for six months to buy a piece of beautiful velvet fabric, insisting she couldn’t look shabby at my engagement party. The stitches were incredibly tight and neat, but her fingertips were covered in pricks and dried blood. Still, she had smiled brightly at me. “Stella, do you think I’ll embarrass you in front of the wealthy folks if I wear this on the boat?” She had packed boxes of homemade peach preserves and her famous shortbread cookies into her luggage. “It’s my first time meeting Billy’s family. I can’t show up empty-handed.” “Billy treats you so well. We have to show them we have manners.” Back then, I laughed and told her she was taking it too seriously. I told her Billy had handled everything, and all she had to do was enjoy the luxury. Her eyes had lit up like stars. The next day, she bragged to anyone who would listen at the local market. “My granddaughter is getting engaged on a massive luxury cruise!” “My future grandson-in-law is putting me in a massive penthouse suite!” But now. She wasn’t in a suite. She didn’t even have a tiny porthole to look at the ocean. On the other end of the line, Gran was still trying to coax me. “Stella, please don’t be mad.” “Billy is a busy man. It’s hard enough organizing all these people.” “An old lady like me sleeping down here saves you kids some money. You’ll need it for your future together.” I closed my eyes, letting a tear slip free. “Gran, grab your bags and come up.” “I’m not getting engaged anymore.” Gran was terrified. “Don’t say foolish things!” “I am perfectly fine down here. Don’t be stubborn and make Billy angry.” I couldn’t listen anymore. I hung up, turned around, and marched toward the boarding gate. Billy grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “To get my grandmother.” His face darkened. “The ship is about to set sail. What about the banquet tonight if you leave?” I glared at him. “If my Gran isn’t there, there is no banquet.” Lily’s mother let out a delicate cough and massaged her temples. Billy immediately let go of my arm, turned around, and handed a glass of warm water to her. “Are the sea breezes giving you a headache, ma’am?” His movements were practiced, gentle, and incredibly attentive. I stood there, suddenly feeling like arguing was completely pointless. He knew perfectly well that older people had fragile health and shouldn’t catch a chill. He knew exactly how to pamper an elder. It was just that his kindness was never meant for my Gran. Billy looked back at me, thoroughly annoyed. “Stella, stop throwing a tantrum.” “I’ve already handled your grandmother. The crew will keep an eye on her.” I pulled my arm back, swatting him away. A deafening, windowless cabin vibrating with engine noise. A cramped hallway where she couldn’t even put down her luggage. And my Gran, constantly swallowing her pride to maintain his perfect image. That was how he “handled” it. Just as I turned toward the lower decks, my phone rang again. Gran again. This time, the sheer panic in her voice was impossible to hide. “Stella, honey… I think I just got kicked out.” My stomach dropped to the floor. “What do you mean you got kicked out?” The background was noisy, filled with the sharp complaints of a janitor. Gran lowered her voice, terrified of being overheard. “They said a pipe burst in the cabin. It needs maintenance.” “They told me to wait in the hallway for a bit.” “My bag got a little wet.” A loud ringing filled my ears. Billy said he handled it. His grand arrangement was sticking my Gran in an abandoned, leaking utility cabin. I gripped my phone tightly. “Gran, exactly where are you right now?” She rushed to explain. “Stella, don’t blame Billy for this.” “He had to book for so many people, and this boat is massive. A mix-up is normal.” A heavy fit of coughing interrupted her, followed by a wet, ragged intake of breath. “I’ll just sit on the stairs for a bit.” “It’s fine.” “Go entertain your guests.” She had been evicted from a flooded room. She was standing alone on a swaying, massive ship. And she was still finding excuses for Billy. My eyes burned hot with rage. I whipped around to face him. “You put my grandmother in a flooded, broken cabin?” Billy’s expression shifted slightly. “What?” I shoved my phone screen in his face. “She got kicked out into the hallway.” “Is this what you call ‘handled’?” He finally frowned. It seemed to dawn on him that this might actually be an inconvenience. “My assistant must have messed up the booking.” “Just calm down.” He pulled out his phone and made a call. “I’ll have my assistant bring her up.” “She can crash in the staff breakroom for tonight.” “We’ll find her a real room tomorrow when one frees up.” He spoke quickly, his tone softening a little. Like he was putting out a minor PR fire. But looking at him, the last remaining warmth in my heart turned to absolute ice. If I hadn’t pushed the issue. If my Gran hadn’t called. Would she have been left sitting on a cold, damp staircase, hugging her wet luggage until sunrise? Lily walked over then, her eyes completely red. “This is all my fault.” “If my family hadn’t joined at the last minute, Gran wouldn’t have lost her room.” She sniffled, lowering her head. “But it’s my parents’ first time on a cruise. I was just so scared they’d get sick if they didn’t sleep well.” Billy immediately stepped closer to her. “How is this your fault?” “Stop taking the blame for everything.” Watching him protect Lily, I felt a wave of absolute disgust. My Gran was placed in a flooded room and banished to a hallway. His first reaction was annoyance, followed by tossing her into a staff breakroom. But the moment Lily shed a single fake tear. He acted like she had suffered the greatest injustice in the world. Half an hour later, the assistant finally brought Gran to the main lobby. The moment she saw me, she frantically tried to hide a cloth bag behind her back. It was the bag holding the homemade shortbread she made for Billy’s parents. It must have been sitting on the flooded floor. The fabric was soaked through, dripping dirty water, and the cookies inside had turned into a mushy, sticky mess. Gran was clutching her chest. Her face was paper-white, and her lips had a terrifying blue tint. Yet, the very first thing she said when she saw Billy was an apology. “Billy, I’m so sorry for causing trouble.” “My old eyes couldn’t read the room number right. I went to the wrong place.” My nose stung sharply. “Gran.” Billy didn’t even look at her. He just checked his Rolex. “At least it didn’t delay the evening banquet.” Gran timidly pulled the soaked bag from behind her back, offering a nervous smile. “Billy, I made these shortbread cookies myself.” “And some peach preserves for your parents.” “First time meeting the family. I couldn’t come empty-handed.” Billy glanced down at it. He recoiled. A look of pure disgust washed over his face. “Gran, we have a Michelin-starred French chef on board.” “Please put that wet stuff away.” “Tonight is a high-end luxury event. Bringing things like that out just isn’t appropriate.” Gran’s hands froze in mid-air. The smile slowly drained from her weathered face, though she desperately tried to force it back up. “Oh. Right.” “I don’t know any better.” She hastily pulled the bag to her chest, hugging the ruined cookies tightly. “I’ll put it away. I won’t embarrass you.” It felt like someone had shoved a handful of glass down my throat. I couldn’t even speak. Across the lobby, Lily’s mother let out another delicate cough. Billy immediately rushed to her side. “Ma’am, please head up to the penthouse dining room and rest.” “Have you been standing too long?” He ordered his assistant to fetch hot soup, then personally guided her to a plush velvet sofa in the lobby. Gentle. Patient. Impeccable. A stark contrast to the absolute ice he just gave my grandmother. Lily’s aunt snickered loudly from the side. “Country folks really don’t know the world, treating literal garbage like treasure.” “Bringing that dirty junk here really ruins the vibe of a high-class event.” Gran heard every word. She clutched her soaked bag tighter, burying her chin into her chest. “We don’t know the world. We just made a mess for everyone.” Billy acted like he didn’t even hear the utter humiliation in Gran’s voice. He just gestured toward the elevators. “Lily, you have a lot of family, take the guest elevator to the top floor.” “Gran, you can take the freight elevator over there to the second-floor staff quarters.” I glanced at the freight elevator. It was packed with Styrofoam boxes of raw seafood that had just been loaded. The stench of fish and stagnant water was suffocating. My voice was dead cold. “My Gran has a bad heart. She can’t breathe in places that smell like that, and you want her to take the freight elevator?” Billy rubbed his temples, deeply annoyed. “Stella, can you stop being so difficult?” “The guest elevator is crowded right now. The freight is faster.” “Once she’s settled in, it’ll be fine. Why do you have to pick a fight over every little thing?” I stared at him. In that exact moment, absolute clarity hit me. Billy didn’t just forget to respect my grandmother. He fundamentally believed my grandmother was not a person worthy of respect. Gran frantically grabbed my wrist. “Stella, stop it.” “I can take any elevator. The party is what matters.” The party is what matters. Even now, she was terrified of ruining my special night. But looking at her ghostly pale face, looking at how she desperately clung to a bag of ruined cookies, the last tiny ember of hope I had for this relationship finally died. I didn’t argue anymore. I simply held Gran’s arm, completely ignored Billy’s orders, and walked her straight onto the guest elevator. Gran apologized the entire ride up. “Stella, I’m really fine.” “Did I make things hard for Billy just now?” She looked down at the dripping bag, her voice barely a whisper. “Maybe I should just throw this in the trash.” “I don’t want his parents laughing at you.” Looking at how small and terrified she had become, my tears finally fell. She hadn’t done a single thing wrong. Yet she was acting like a criminal. I didn’t take her to the staff breakroom. I took her straight to the ship’s medical center. The doctor checked her blood pressure and heart rate. His expression turned grim. “Her cardiopulmonary function is extremely weak. She cannot handle stress, and she absolutely cannot be in poorly ventilated areas.” “She needs immediate bed rest. No more moving around.” Gran turned whiter than the sheets. And still, she tried to cover for Billy. “It’s just my useless body failing me.” “It’s not the kids’ fault.” I pressed my hands gently over hers. “Gran.” “You never have to explain yourself to anyone ever again.” “If you’re in pain, you’re in pain. If you’re mistreated, you’re mistreated.” “Nobody in this world has the right to force you to swallow it.” Gran looked up at me, her cloudy eyes slowly filling with tears. Once the doctor got her settled on a comfortable observation bed, I pulled out my phone. I texted the ship’s event coordinator. “The engagement party is canceled.” “Tear down all the decorations in the ballroom.” The coordinator called back almost instantly, sounding panicked. “Miss Stella, the banquet is tonight! The guests are already waiting. Are you absolutely sure?” I looked through the glass at my Gran, who had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep. My voice was quiet, but unshakeable. “I’m sure.” At eight o’clock that night, Billy finally came looking for me. He threw the clinic door open. He looked furious. He had probably lost face in front of the crowd when I didn’t show up. He stood at the door, glaring at me. “Stella, what the hell is your problem?” “Everyone is waiting for you in the penthouse dining room, and you’re hiding down here?” He paused, his jaw clenching. “Lily has been crying for an hour.” “She thinks she made your grandmother sick. She feels so guilty she hasn’t eaten a single bite.” “Come upstairs right now, apologize to Lily, and we can put this whole mess behind us.” I froze for a second. Then, I actually laughed out loud. “Apologize to Lily?” Billy scowled. “Her family came all this way to celebrate and be happy.” “You’ve completely ruined the vibe with your cold attitude.” “You made a scene in front of dozens of people. Don’t you think you owe them a sorry?” So my Gran being shoved into a flooded closet and nearly having a heart attack wasn’t a tragedy. But Lily’s family not enjoying their free luxury dinner was a catastrophe. I looked at the man I was supposed to marry. Suddenly, I didn’t even have the energy to scream at him. “Okay.” Billy breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped forward to grab my hand. “Then hurry up. My parents are getting impatient.” I sidestepped him. I sat on the edge of the empty hospital bed, looking down at my phone. I had just booked two first-class plane tickets back home for the moment this ship docked. My heart was terrifyingly calm. “You guys eat. I’m not going.” Billy’s face instantly went black. “Stella, enough is enough.” “Do you even know what day it is?” “Do you have any idea how much money and effort I spent putting this party together?” I looked at him, and my mind flashed back to a memory from years ago. I had acute gastroenteritis in the middle of the night. I called him, begging for help. He told me he had a very important client meeting the next morning and told me to catch a cab to the ER by myself. Back then, I defended him. I told myself he was a rising star in his career, and I couldn’t drag him down. But the truth was, he wasn’t incapable of dropping his work to take care of someone. He just didn’t want to do it for me. Because today, the moment Lily complained about a minor headache, he instantly canceled a video call with a multi-million-dollar client just to accompany her on the deck. I offered a small smile and stayed completely silent. Seeing that I was entirely unfazed, Billy let out a cold sneer. “Fine. Suit yourself.” “Rot down here if you want. Come up when you finally decide to stop acting like a child.” He turned on his heel and stormed out. The moment the heavy clinic door slammed shut, the very last thread tying my heart to him snapped forever.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “533213”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 After we went long-distance, my boyfriend, Vincent, sent me a custom mystery box every single month. He used those little surprises to replace his physical presence, helping me survive the endless, agonizing wait of our long-distance relationship. Two years ago, Vincent made me a promise. “Once I take over the family business, I’m coming back to get you.” “I’ll make sure you can stand by my side in the light of day.” For that single promise, I waited for him in a city two thousand miles away for hundreds of days and nights. Until finally, in the 773rd mystery box I opened. I pulled out a first-class ticket to Chicago. On the flight, my barely contained excitement made the girl sitting next to me giggle. With innocent, bubbling joy, she showed me a photo of her and her fiancé, smiling brightly. “We’re getting married in three days!” Looking at the pre-wedding photoshoot on her screen, my hand, which had been lovingly tracing my boarding pass, suddenly froze. The groom-to-be in that photo. Was the very man I had just crossed thousands of miles to see. My sheer joy instantly curdled into absolute shock. I gripped my phone tightly, hiding the lock screen photo of Vincent and me behind the darkened glass. Compared to her stunning, professional wedding photo. My lock screen picture felt exactly like my relationship with him. Something dirty that couldn’t be shown to the light. After landing, from the airport all the way to the lobby of Vincent’s corporate headquarters, I couldn’t reach him. The receptionist eyed my suitcase meaningfully, her polite tone wrapping around a core of pure condescension. “Miss, Mr. Kensington’s office isn’t a hotel lobby. People can’t just waltz in whenever they feel like it.” The robotic voice of the automated voicemail kept looping in my ear. I froze, stung by the thinly veiled insult, and was just about to explain myself. When Vincent’s helpless, incredibly indulgent voice rang out from behind me. “Slow down, don’t run.” Serena was bounding through the revolving doors. She practically skipped over and threw herself into his arms, pouting playfully. “Vincent! Come with me to get my hair done!” Vincent smoothly hung up his constantly vibrating phone. He had opened his arms in advance, catching her perfectly. The way their arms linked together so naturally felt like a vice grip twisting around my heart. It hurt so much I couldn’t even make a sound. The receptionist shoved me slightly to the side, muttering under her breath. “The actual fiancée is here. Why are you still standing around looking stupid?” I stumbled from the push and twisted my ankle, falling hard onto the polished marble floor. People crossing the lobby stopped to whisper, their eyes burning holes into my back. I covered my face, utterly humiliated. Vincent glanced over. A flash of pure shock crossed his eyes when he saw me. Serena noticed me too and gasped. “Oh! We ran into each other again!” I forced the corners of my mouth up, looking up at them as they walked over, feeling completely pathetic. Serena reached down and helped me up. Vincent gave me a polite, distant nod. Like I was just some random girl from his college dorm. “Hey. Long time no see.” That painfully formal greeting felt like a needle shoved straight into my chest. I stared at him, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. Serena looked between us with genuine curiosity. I looked at Vincent with begging eyes, pleading for him to say something real. He held my gaze for a split second, then reached out and firmly grabbed Serena’s hand. “Go wait in my office. I’ll walk her out.” I was left standing completely frozen. Inside Vincent’s massive corner office. Everywhere I looked, there were cute, girly trinkets that clearly belonged to Serena. His secretary poured me a glass of water. As she turned to leave, she smoothly and quietly picked up the framed wedding photo sitting right on his mahogany desk and carried it out with her. My mind just kept replaying the way he held her in the lobby. I stared blankly out the floor-to-ceiling windows. Vincent and I came from entirely different worlds. He was the sole heir to the Kensington empire. My dad had abandoned me, my mom was dead, and I survived college entirely on student loans. After graduation, his mother fought tooth and nail to destroy our relationship. To stay with me, Vincent cut all ties with his family. He lost his credit cards, his trust fund, and was dragged back home to be beaten with a golf club by his father. He never gave up. Not until the Kensington family pulled strings to blacklist me in the city. When I couldn’t even get a job as a barista, he finally bowed his head and surrendered to them. The night before I moved away to Austin. He stood in this exact spot, holding me, and made a vow. He swore that one day, he would make sure I stood by his side, officially and openly. In my daze, a familiar pair of arms wrapped around my waist, and lips pressed against my cheek. My eyes burned terribly. In the suffocating silence, Vincent’s voice was low and calm. “Don’t come to the office next time. People talk, and your current identity makes it complicated.” “She’s just a business partner. I just secured this CEO seat, and I need her family’s connections.” Hearing him lie straight to my face. I closed my eyes, letting the tears slide down my cheeks. Vincent’s eyes filled with heartache. He lowered his voice, coaxing me gently. “Just give me a little more time, okay? Everything I’m doing is for our future.” “You understand that, right?” “But she told me you two are getting married.” Vincent went completely silent for a second, avoiding my eyes entirely. “It’s just a stalling tactic. You know you’re the one I’m actually going to marry.” Standing in the exact same spot where he made his first promise. My heart wavered, but a terrifying sense of dread washed over me. I didn’t dare believe him anymore. 2 Back in the old, cheap apartment we used to rent, Vincent was helping me make the bed. As he reached across the mattress, his sleeve slipped down, and I saw a tattoo on the inside of his arm. It was a date. A date that meant absolutely nothing to me. His phone was sitting on the nightstand. I tapped the screen, looking at the lock screen wallpaper of a couple kissing on a beach. I punched in the date from his tattoo. The phone unlocked instantly. Vincent walked out of the bathroom, his brows instantly knitting together defensively. “Are you going through my phone?” I lowered my eyelashes, my voice incredibly soft. “We’re breaking up.” Suddenly, the power in the apartment cut out. Plunged into absolute pitch black, Vincent scoffed in disbelief. “Break up? Because of Serena?” “I already told you, she and I are just a partnership! Everything with her is purely transactional!” “I’m doing all this for my career! For our future!” “You’ve always been the understanding one. Stop throwing a tantrum.” My eyes were completely hollow. It took every ounce of strength I had to push the words out of my throat. “Vincent, I will not be the side piece.” Vincent froze, his voice rising in anger. “What side piece? How is this even the same thing?” A custom ringtone suddenly interrupted him. He picked it up, pressing it to his ear as he immediately started walking toward the door. He tossed a quick, “Wait for me to get back,” over his shoulder and rushed out. He completely forgot that I had terrible night blindness. In the dark, I was practically blind. I sat frozen on the bed for a long time before I stumbled around, banging my knees against the furniture, to find my phone. When I lit the screen, I saw a new post on Serena’s social media. [Do you guys think Vincent will make a good husband?] The attached photo showed Vincent setting several home-cooked dishes and desserts onto a dining table. It looked so warm. So incredibly bright. My stomach churned violently, and I couldn’t stop dry heaving. Ever since I got that plane ticket, I had been so ecstatic about seeing him that I had completely forgotten to eat. The pain made me curl into a ball. I squatted in the corner, my hand brushing against an empty outlet on the wall. It was empty. In the past, Vincent had plugged a little nightlight into every single corner of this apartment. Later, I took those nightlights with me to Austin. During our long-distance years, they had taken his place, keeping me company through countless dark nights. Now, I had finally come to his city. But the distance between us was an ocean that could never be crossed. The next day. Serena invited me to sit down at a high-end cafe. She giggled, stirring her latte. “Vincent always tells me how much you helped him back in college. I wanted to thank you personally.” I nodded absently, my mind focused on scrolling through project details in my email. In the middle of her endless bragging, Serena answered a phone call. “The mystery box for next month? Just pick whatever trendy figure is popular right now. It’s fine.” I froze. I looked up at her. “You like those mystery boxes?” “Oh, I’m just running errands for Vincent. He said it was to pay back a small favor he owed someone.” No wonder. A year ago, the mystery boxes Vincent sent me completely changed. They went from the obscure indie artists I actually loved to mainstream, generic junk. It wasn’t even him picking them out anymore. I thought he was giving me his absolute best effort, a relentless commitment to keeping me company. To him, he was just paying off a debt. I let out a bitter, mocking laugh. Serena tilted her head, reached into her designer bag, and slid an elegant, gold-foiled wedding invitation across the table. “Vincent told me to hand this to you personally. You absolutely have to come tomorrow!” On the card, the names of the bride and groom were pressed tightly together in beautiful calligraphy. It looked exactly like the fantasies I used to play over and over in my head. The only difference was. My name was written in small print under the “Guest” section. I slipped the invitation into my purse. At the exact same moment, an email notification popped up on my phone. [Confirmation Successful: You are now the lead on the Austin project.] After parting ways with Serena, I walked into a small, rundown diner down the street and ordered a plate of food. The portion of chicken was much bigger than it used to be, but it tasted like absolutely nothing in my mouth. The owner was counting cash at the register. When she looked up and saw me, her jaw dropped. “Oh my god, it’s you!” “You remember me?” She clapped her hands and laughed warmly. “Of course I do! Years ago, your boyfriend swiped three different debit cards just to scrape together enough for one plate of food. Then he begged me to use his last two dollars to buy an extra piece of chicken for you. Said you’d been working on your feet all day and needed the protein.” “That foolish, sweet kid. Why didn’t he come with you today?” That day, Vincent had just sat across from me, watching me eat with a smile, lying and saying he wasn’t hungry. As he watched me, his eyes had turned completely red, and he kept whispering that he was absolutely going to marry me one day. Thinking about the invitation sitting in my bag, I shook my head. “He’s getting married. And I’m leaving town.” 3 Outside the grand doors of the hotel ballroom. I accidentally bumped into Vincent and one of his rich friends. “An arranged marriage that turned into true love. A match made in heaven, bro!” “But what about that girl down in Austin? Haven’t you guys been apart for two years?” “…Don’t bring her up.” To the world. Vincent and Serena were perfectly in love and perfectly matched. The corporate merger was just an added bonus to their epic romance. And me? I was just a brief pause before a dismissive “Don’t bring her up.” I stepped out from behind the pillar. Vincent looked up and froze the second he saw me. “What are you doing here?” “I came to get some food.” He reached out, trying to cup my cheek. I turned my head sharply, dodging his hand. He let out a heavy sigh and quickly transferred a large sum of money to my phone. “Eat something good. You’ve gotten so thin these past two years. Go buy yourself some nice clothes after this.” “I have a corporate dinner to attend. I’m going to be very busy the next few days. Be a good girl and wait for me. I’ll come find you when this is all over.” I lowered my head obediently. I pulled up my travel app and paid a premium fee to expedite a ticket purchase. Five minutes later, the screen flashed: [Ticket Purchased Successfully]. The wedding ceremony began. Vincent was wearing a Windsor knot—the exact knot I had once told him looked best on him. Unlike his usual calm, composed self, his hands were actually shaking slightly as he gave his speech. Like I was torturing myself on purpose, I stood in the back and listened to every single word. During our two years apart, Vincent always said it just “wasn’t the right time” for me to visit. He constantly left me staring at a blank chat screen and listening to the dead dial tone of a dropped call. But as long as I thought about the day we could finally stand together again. I swallowed all the pain and held on. When I was sick and struggling to adapt to a new city, Vincent was romantically meeting Serena at a high-society gala. When I was pulling all-nighters, working myself to the bone just to be worthy of his status, Vincent was making a wildly public confession of love to Serena on a private island. When I was hugging a framed picture of him, crying until my eyes swelled shut from missing him. Vincent was holding Serena at the highest point in Chicago, kissing her under a sky full of fireworks. Without me even realizing it, my tears were falling again. “…Look at her. The side piece is actually getting emotional listening to this.” I whipped my head around. Several unfamiliar faces were standing near me. When they saw me looking, one of them sneered openly. “Oh! So she knows we’re talking about her.” “Years ago, Vincent and Serena were already engaged, and she still wouldn’t stop stalking him. Didn’t they ship her off to Austin? Now she’s back to crash the wedding?” “A side piece trying to crash a wedding? Classy.” I stared at them, completely stunned by the venom in their words. Up on the stage, Serena’s face was bathed in tears. She gripped the microphone, choking on her sobs, as Vincent smiled and held her hand tightly. “Vincent and I have been in love for five years and engaged for three. We finally made it to today.” “A few days ago, I met someone who shares a very special connection with both me and my husband.” “So, I’d like to invite her to bring up our wedding rings…” Before Serena even finished her sentence, a massive gasp ripped through the ballroom. On the giant LED screens behind them, a slideshow of intimate photos began playing on a loop. Holding hands, hugging, walking in and out of hotels. Everything. The people in the photos were me and Vincent. A split second later, a blinding spotlight hit me dead in the center of the crowd. An usher walked right up to me and bowed. The velvet tray in his hands held two glittering wedding bands. Every single pair of eyes in that massive hall locked onto me. I didn’t hesitate. I picked up the rings and walked straight up to the altar. Vincent watched me get closer and closer. The utter disbelief on his face slowly morphed into dark, furious rage. I picked up the bride’s ring and held it out to him. Someone in the crowd yelled, “Having the mistress deliver the rings! Now that’s entertainment!” Vincent violently slapped my hand away. The ring went flying. He grabbed my wrist in a crushing grip. “You planned this?” “Is this why you came back?” I stood on that stage, stared at by hundreds of people. They were all whispering. Every single time the word “homewrecker” was hissed, it drilled perfectly into my ears. It felt like steel spikes being driven into my spine. Before my mother died. She had screamed the name of my father’s mistress until her throat bled. She died choking on her own hatred. I despised mistresses with every fiber of my being. Later, when my dad remarried. At his wedding, he physically forced me to my knees and demanded I call that woman “Mom.” Right now, I was biting my lip so hard it bled, but the humiliation I felt was a million times worse than that day. Back then, Vincent had kicked the doors open. He punched my father to the ground, screamed in the mistress’s face, and dragged me out of that hellhole. But now, in front of everyone. He shoved me violently to the floor. His face was a mask of absolute ice. “I have absolutely no connection to this woman.” “Two years ago, she was stalking me, and I paid her a lump sum to leave the city. I had no idea she came back to harass Serena or crash this wedding.” “Mom, Dad, Mr. and Mrs. Waldorf, Serena. I promise I will handle this and give you a satisfactory answer.” I lay on the cold floor, my entire body shaking uncontrollably. Vincent called security to drag me off the stage and pull me out the doors. As I was dragged past Serena. Her eyes were still wet with tears, but her gaze was dead, cold, and calculating. “Thanks for making the trip,” she whispered. The mystery box with the ticket. The “coincidental” meeting on the plane. The personal invitation. In a fraction of a second, the puzzle pieces locked together in my brain. Serena knew everything. This entire spectacle was orchestrated by her. Vincent personally escorted me out the back doors. Before leaving, he grabbed my arm and hissed under his breath. “I had to protect the reputation of both our families. I didn’t have a choice.” “I know you feel wronged, but you crossed a massive line today! Do you have any idea that you almost ruined everything we’ve worked for?!” “Go back to the apartment and wait for me. I’ll come find you as soon as I clean this up. I promise this won’t affect us.” He shoved me into a waiting taxi, ordered the driver to take me to the apartment, and turned on his heel to leave. I stared at his retreating back. I rolled up the window and looked at the driver. “Take me straight to the airport.”

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1 Robert was universally acknowledged as the brooding, untouchable golden boy of our foster home. But I was the only one who knew the truth. He was a massive phony. When the wealthy Wigfield couple arrived at the home looking to adopt, Robert stood before them in a crisp white shirt, his chin tilted up in an arrogant display of pride. “Mr. and Mrs. Wigfield, I have no intention of being bought by a rich family.” “If family ties are tainted by money, they become absolutely filthy!” The room fell silent. All the kids and staff were entirely in awe of his unbending backbone. But the Wigfields looked visibly disappointed. They shared a quiet look, preparing to leave. I was standing perfectly still in the corner when a string of glowing, floating text suddenly materialized in thin air right in front of my eyes. [Oh, this is such a tragedy! The Wigfield family is actually amazing. Their eight daughters have been begging for a little brother for years!] [They would give him the best private prep school, the best resources. They even set up a massive trust fund for his future Ivy League tuition!] I stared hard at the words “best private prep school.” My heart hammered violently against my ribs. Without a second thought, I raised my hand high into the air. “Ma’am! If it’s possible, I want to be adopted!” The recreation room went dead silent. Every single pair of eyes snapped toward me. Including my fellow orphan, Robert. The mask of unyielding, noble pride on his face almost cracked completely. “Liam, what are you doing… I didn’t think you were the type to be blinded by vanity.” Ms. Higgins, the director of the foster home, looked mortified. She hurried over and grabbed my arm, trying to pull me back. “Liam, stop causing a scene! They came here to choose Robert!” I didn’t budge an inch. I kept my lips pressed tight and looked directly at Mrs. Wigfield. Mrs. Wigfield was stunned. She paused her steps toward the door, turning around to look at me. “You said… you’re willing?” “Yes! I want this!” My palms were sweating profusely, but I gathered every ounce of courage I had and repeated it loud and clear. The kids crowding around us immediately started whispering. “Is Liam just a massive gold digger? Why is he acting so desperate?” “Obviously! Robert literally just rejected them, and Liam is throwing himself at their feet. Have some shame!” “Look at Robert. He’s so pure and noble. It just makes Liam look incredibly cheap and greedy.” Hearing the whispers, Robert let out a soft, knowing smile. He walked over and gently tugged at my sleeve, playing the role of a concerned saint. “Liam, don’t be impulsive.” “High society isn’t a place where people like us can survive.” “I know you’ve always desperately wanted to climb the social ladder, but please don’t degrade yourself like this.” The moment those words left his mouth, the looks of disgust aimed at me doubled. I stared right back at him, my mind completely clear. If I didn’t already know he was a try-hard fake who wanted to be adopted by a billionaire family more than anyone else in this room, I might have actually believed his garbage. I yanked my sleeve out of his grip. “No. I want to be adopted by the Wigfield family. Please consider me!” In a few months, I would have to take the crucial entrance exams for high school. The foster home had extremely limited resources. The teachers were overwhelmed, study materials were outdated, and private tutoring was a luxury we couldn’t even dream of. When the Wigfield family could offer me the absolute best educational resources in the country, I wanted to study! I wanted to climb out of the mud! I didn’t think fighting for my future was a sin. The floating text appeared again. [Oh my god, Robert needs to stop acting! If he keeps playing hard to get, he’s actually going to lose the spot!] [Mama Wigfield absolutely hates it when people act like money and love are enemies. Robert’s little speech actually really hurt her feelings.] [Liam might be a little blunt, but he’s so incredibly sincere! I think he actually has a shot!] My pulse raced faster. Mrs. Wigfield studied me for a long time. Suddenly, she walked over and knelt down to my eye level. “Tell me why you want to come home with us.” My throat felt tight. “Because I want to go to a good school.” “And I want to know what it feels like to actually have a family.” A tear slipped instantly down Mrs. Wigfield’s cheek. She reached out and held my shaking hands. “Okay. I understand, sweetheart.” Mr. Wigfield exchanged a deep look with his wife. He didn’t agree on the spot, but he left a very clear door open. “We will head home and discuss this, and then confirm with the director.” “A decision like this shouldn’t be rushed.” With that, they turned and left the building. Robert was still standing near the doorway. His eyes were completely red. The other kids immediately swarmed him, offering comfort. “Robert, don’t be sad. The Wigfield family is definitely going to pick you in the end!” “They were just caught off guard because Liam started yelling. They definitely won’t like someone so obsessed with money!” Robert shook his head gently, looking like a tragic hero. “I’m not sad for me. I’m just worried about Liam…” “He wants this so desperately. When he gets rejected, it’s going to crush him.” Standing a few feet away, I let out a cold, silent laugh. Crushed? Who said the Wigfield family was definitely picking him? 2 Once the billionaire couple left, the foster home erupted into absolute chaos. Almost everyone was gossiping about what just happened. But I wasn’t the center of the conversation. Robert was. “Robert is so incredibly principled! He’s literally a god! If Mrs. Wigfield asked me, I would have nodded so fast my neck would snap!” “That’s exactly why he’s different from us. He’s not basic and greedy like Liam.” I walked past them carrying my breakfast tray, hearing every single word. Someone saw me coming and intentionally raised their voice. “Some people really think raising their hand is enough to turn them into a prince. Does he even know how powerful the Wigfields are?” “A boring nerd who only knows how to study. Who would want that? Robert is handsome and has an amazing personality. The rich family is definitely going to pick him!” “Exactly! I can’t wait to see someone cry his eyes out when reality hits!” I didn’t stop walking, but my heart wasn’t completely bulletproof. It was true that I wasn’t as naturally charming or good-looking as Robert. But I really, really wanted this chance to go to a real school. I had to fight for it. At noon, Robert came looking for me. He sat across from me at the battered cafeteria table and let out a heavy sigh. “Liam, I heard what the others were saying this morning. Please don’t take it to heart.” “They aren’t trying to laugh at you on purpose. They just think you acted way too desperate.” I didn’t answer. I just kept solving my math equations. He glanced down at my worn-out workbook and offered a pitying smile. “You always do this. You think studying until your eyes bleed will actually change your destiny.” “But some boundaries can’t be crossed just by working hard.” “If something isn’t meant for you, you can’t force it.” I looked up. His eyes were dripping with fake sympathy. “A powerful family like the Wigfields wants a boy with natural elegance and artistic flair.” “You’re too practical. You’re so practical it’s actually incredibly boring.” I pressed my lips together and stayed completely silent, though my emotions were boiling over. Suddenly, the glowing chat box popped up in the air between us. [Oh my god! Boy, you need to shut up! The Wigfield parents already went back and held a family meeting. All eight daughters voted unanimously to take Liam!] [Mama Wigfield told them that when Liam said he wanted to go to school, it broke her heart into pieces! They are officially switching their target!] I stared at those two lines of text. My pen froze. Unanimous vote? I dug my nails into my palm to suppress the violent wave of shock and joy rising in my chest. Robert was still talking. “If they come back begging in a few days, I might actually consider giving them a chance.” “It would be rude to reject them twice, after all.” He looked at me like a king tossing a coin to a beggar. “Liam, please don’t be too devastated when it happens.” “I’ll talk to Mrs. Wigfield and ask her to sponsor your education as a charity case.” That afternoon, Ms. Higgins called Robert into her office. Very quickly, the news spread like wildfire through the entire foster home. “The director just said it! The Wigfield family is still aiming for Robert!” “Wow! I knew it! Robert is the only one fit to be a rich heir!” I stood near the stairwell, listening to their absolute certainty. Meanwhile, the floating text drifted lazily across my vision. [Lmao. The Wigfield family’s executive assistant is literally drafting Liam’s preliminary adoption paperwork right now.] [Yikes! Robert is really living in a delusion. The eight Wigfield sisters are currently Googling ‘how to bond with a fifteen-year-old brother who loves studying’!] I lowered my head and went back to memorizing my vocabulary flashcards. Stay calm. The less people believed in me, the more I needed to keep my cool. 3 Three days later, the Wigfield family’s executive assistant arrived with a stack of documents. Ms. Higgins took the file and immediately called for Robert. Robert showed up wearing that exact same crisp white shirt, a look of mild, burdened reluctance plastered across his face. “Ms. Higgins, I already told you, I might not actually go.” Ms. Higgins looked at him with fond exasperation. “Oh, stop it. The Wigfields went through all the trouble to send the paperwork. Stop being so stubborn.” “They are incredibly sincere. Don’t break their hearts.” The kids gathered around immediately started cheering. “Woo! Robert is going to the Wigfield mansion!” “You’re going to be a billionaire heir! Don’t forget us little people!” Robert looked down, twisting his fingers together as a shy flush crept up his neck. “Stop talking nonsense, guys!” “I just… I just don’t want to make Mrs. Wigfield sad. Honestly, I really don’t care about marrying into wealth…” I stood at the back of the crowd. I noticed the assistant frowning slightly. He flipped open the expensive leather folder. “Ms. Higgins, excuse me, but is Liam here?” Ms. Higgins froze entirely. “Liam?” “Yes. This supplemental background form needs to be filled out by Liam personally.” The air in the room felt like it had been sucked into a vacuum. The bashful smile on Robert’s face turned to stone. Ms. Higgins quickly forced a laugh, trying to smooth things over. “Oh dear, is there a mix-up? Mrs. Wigfield definitely chose Robert the other day, didn’t she?” The assistant’s tone was flawlessly polite. “There is no mix-up.” “Mr. and Mrs. Wigfield wish to understand Liam better.” “Of course, this is just a preliminary background check and does not guarantee a final adoption decision.” He phrased it very carefully. But for me, that was more than enough. My heart did a tiny, joyful flip as I stepped forward and took the paperwork. “Thank you, sir.” The way the other kids looked at me shifted instantly. “It’s just some paperwork. It’s not like they picked him. Why is he looking so smug? They probably just want to compare options.” “Exactly. Robert rejected them, so they had to find a backup tire.” Robert forced a smile and walked over to my side. “Liam, the higher the hope, the harder the fall…” “Billionaire families are extremely careful. Looking at one extra person doesn’t mean anything.” I uncapped a pen and started filling out the form, completely ignoring him. He kept going. “But it’s good that you got this chance.” “Even if you’re just being used as a comparison, at least someone like you gets to see how the other half operates.” The floating text drifted by. [Compare? The eldest Wigfield sister just ordered her team to research the transfer policies for the most elite prep school in the state.] [The second sister is consulting corporate lawyers about minor adoption laws!] [The fifth sister secretly bought a mountain of boy’s clothes and toys. Her manager couldn’t even stop her! The eight sisters are losing their minds!] I bit the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing out loud. Seeing my silence, Robert assumed he had struck a nerve. His eyes grew even more pitiful. “I’m not looking down on you.” “I’m just terrified your expectations are too high. I’m looking out for you.” I looked up from the paper and capped my pen. “Keep it to yourself.” I turned and walked away. Behind me, the toxic whispers and mocking laughter flared up again. “Look at that attitude! I can’t wait to see how swollen his face gets when reality slaps him!” “Seriously! Robert, when you move into the Wigfield estate, you have to put him in his place!” 4 For the next week, the floating chat became my personal secret weapon. Every time they popped up, they gave me an anchor of confidence. [The Wigfields are officially finalizing the adoption papers!] [Mama Wigfield is setting up Liam’s room. She spent three hours just picking the wall color.] [Lmao! The eighth sister is secretly texting her classmates asking what kind of stationery teenage boys like!] I read the text while quietly balancing chemical equations in my notebook. Everyone thought I was desperately pretending to be calm, but only I knew that I was feeling more secure by the second. Robert, on the other hand, was growing visibly frantic. He started volunteering to help out in the director’s office every single day. When people praised him for being humble and said he wouldn’t forget his roots once he was rich, he would lower his head and smile. “Of course not. The Wigfield estate isn’t that far away. I’ll come back and visit you all the time.” He even pulled his battered suitcase out from under his bed, wiped off the dust, and packed all his clothes perfectly. When I came back from brushing my teeth and saw him doing it, a small laugh escaped my lips. His face stiffened. His calm facade shattered instantly. “What the hell are you laughing at, Liam?! Do you honestly think just because you filled out a piece of paper, you actually have a shot?” “You are so pathetic!” “Do you want to know why the Wigfield family will definitely pick me?” “Because I actually look like a son they can parade around in high society. And what about you?” He looked me up and down with absolute disgust. “You look like a desperate beggar clawing for pennies. You don’t belong in their world!” It was an incredibly ugly thing to say, but I wasn’t angry at all. Because right above his head, the floating text was going absolutely crazy. [Someone save this boy! He has no idea the Wigfields literally locked in Liam days ago!] [They are literally coming to pick him up tomorrow! He polished that suitcase for absolutely nothing! Aaaaah!] [Wake up, buddy! You literally handed your spot to Liam on a silver platter!] I raised an eyebrow at him. “Then let’s wait for the results.” The next afternoon, the foster home exploded into chaos. “Mr. and Mrs. Wigfield are here!” The moment the news broke, every single kid sprinted out to the courtyard. “They definitely came to get Robert!” “Robert, go change your clothes!” Robert played coy, but his body moved faster than anyone else’s. He changed into a pale blue button-down shirt, meticulously combed his hair, and even sprayed a tiny bit of hairspray. Ms. Higgins personally wheeled his packed suitcase out to the front hall. “You stubborn boy, stop fighting this.” “When you get to the Wigfield estate, be good. Be polite, but don’t let anyone walk all over you.” Robert’s eyes filled with bright tears. “Ms. Higgins, I’m going to miss you all so much.” A few of the younger kids cried and hugged him. “Robert, you have to come back and visit.” I stood on the landing of the stairs, watching the scene like an outsider. Nobody called for me. Nobody thought I had any right to be there. A massive, sleek black SUV pulled up to the front gates. Ms. Higgins immediately pushed Robert to the very front of the crowd. “Mr. and Mrs. Wigfield, Robert has his bags packed and ready.” “He just has a tough exterior. Deep down, he is incredibly grateful to you both.” Robert kept his head bowed, perfect, crystalline tears resting on his eyelashes. He looked exactly like a tragic prince being forced by destiny to accept a life of billionaire luxury. Mrs. Wigfield stopped in her tracks, completely bewildered. She looked at Robert. Then she looked at the packed suitcase. Slowly, she shook her head. “Ms. Higgins, I believe there’s been a massive misunderstanding.” “We are not here to pick up Robert.” Every single person in the courtyard went wide-eyed with shock. “Then who are you here to pick up?!”

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1 The day the city issued the Code Red flood warning, our boss tagged everyone in the company group chat. “Attention all staff. Do not go home after your shift tonight, just in case you can’t make it in tomorrow. The company will charge a $100 overnight accommodation fee per person. It will be deducted from your next paycheck!” The office erupted into a chorus of muttered complaints, but no one dared to openly defy her. As a result, at two in the morning, the river levee breached. Violent, muddy floodwaters smashed through the ground-floor office windows. Over a hundred people drowned before they even had the chance to wake up. When I opened my eyes again, I was sitting right back at my desk, staring at the exact moment the boss sent that message. My desk neighbor sighed heavily and asked me how I planned to survive sleeping on the floor tonight. I didn’t even hesitate. “I’m quitting.” At 3:14 PM, the group chat pinged. Valerie, our boss: “Attention all staff. Do not go home after your shift tonight, just in case you can’t make it in tomorrow. The company will charge a $100 overnight accommodation fee per person. It will be deducted from your next paycheck!” I stared at the screen. My fingers moved faster than my brain. “I quit. I’m not staying tonight.” Send. The chat went dead silent for three full minutes. Then Valerie’s reply popped up. “Luke’s overnight fee just went up to $200. Anyone else want to quit? Speak up now so I can process you all at once.” Three seconds later, the first bootlicker replied. “Received. I will follow the company’s arrangements.” Then came the second, the third, and the fourth. Someone specifically tagged me in the chat. “Luke, can you not drag the rest of us down with your drama?” In my previous life, this exact same group of people lined up like good little sheep to drown in a vortex of filthy brown water. At 2:00 AM, the levee broke. The steel roller doors of the ground-floor office warped and buckled under the pressure. The water poured in faster than human lungs could scream. Over a hundred people. Not a single one made it out. I stared at the endless stream of “Received” scrolling down my monitor and slammed my phone face-down on the desk. The HR Manager’s chat icon flashed. She didn’t type a single word. She just forwarded three scanned documents in rapid succession. The first: A Non-Compete Agreement. Banned from working in this industry for two years after resignation. Penalty for breach: $30,000. I was making a miserable entry-level salary. I would have to starve for three and a half years to pay that off. The second: A Training Service Agreement. The “pre-employment onboarding” the company provided was valued at $5,000. Anyone leaving before three years of service had to repay it in full. The third: My original university diploma and degree certificates. On my first day, Admin told me they needed to “centrally manage” our documents. My original, irreplaceable degrees were currently locked in a filing cabinet down the hall. I was naive back then. I didn’t know it was completely illegal for an employer to hold original identification and degree certificates hostage. In my last life, I told myself to just swallow my pride and endure it. And my reward was dying in the dark, suffocating in freezing floodwater. A voice memo from HR popped up. “Luke, throwing a tantrum today might feel good. But how are you going to feed yourself tomorrow? Going to apply to jobs with your high school diploma?” I stood up. The legs of my office chair scraped violently against the floor, letting out an ear-piercing screech. The entire open-plan office fell dead silent for a split second. Over a hundred pairs of eyes flicked up to look at me, then immediately dropped back down to their screens. I walked straight to the Admin desk and held out my hand. “My documents. My diplomas. Give them to me right now.” Derek, the operations admin, didn’t even look up. His fingers kept clacking away on a spreadsheet. “Centralized document management is company policy. Employees are not permitted to withdraw them without authorization.” “Those are my personal documents.” At the next desk over, Jessica leaned back in her chair. “Give it a rest, Luke. Stop being a drama queen. Two hundred bucks is still money. With your financial background, you really think you can afford to be picky?” Sitting across from her, Marcus chuckled. He laughed, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “He probably thinks he can go home and become a famous TikTok influencer. That’s the trendy thing to do these days, right?” Jessica giggled, echoing his mockery. Derek finally stopped typing. He stood up and snapped a file folder shut. “Luke, if you really want to leave, you can. Just settle your $5,000 training fee and your non-compete penalty first. Finance.” He turned his head toward the accounting desks. Without looking up, Greg from Finance called out a number. “Thirty-five thousand dollars total.” Marcus snorted. “Thirty-five grand. If his family had that kind of cash, he wouldn’t be working a desk job here.” He side-eyed me and took a slow sip from his coffee mug. I stood in front of Derek’s desk. Derek sat back down and resumed typing his expense reports. He left the back of his head facing me. The cowlick at the crown of his hair was perfectly, meticulously round. The clack-clack-clack of his mechanical keyboard never stopped. No one else spoke to me. A new message popped up in the main group chat from Valerie. “Since everyone is on board, we will lock down for the night. Admin, get a headcount. Not a single person is allowed to be missing.” Below her message, another wave of “Received” flooded the screen. My phone buzzed in my hand. HR sent another private message. “Luke, it’s not too late to withdraw your resignation. Valerie said the $200 fee is a special favor to you to teach you a lesson. Don’t be ungrateful.” I didn’t reply. I grabbed my backpack and walked straight toward the main entrance. In my previous life, the floodwaters swept my bag away. By the time my parents arrived to identify me, my body was bloated beyond recognition. I swiped my badge at the door. The access panel lit up with stark red letters. PERMISSION DENIED. ACCOUNT FROZEN. Footsteps approached from behind. Derek’s voice was ice-cold. “The flood emergency protocol has been initiated. All entrances and exits are locked down. Access privileges are now entirely under Admin control.” I turned to look at him. “This is false imprisonment.” I stared dead at the glowing red padlock icon on the screen. Derek just sneered, turned around, and walked away. I walked back to my desk. My phone screen was lit up. Another message from HR was waiting for me. “Your employment file is still registered under the company’s collective account. If you insist on forcing your way out today, I will write ‘Terminated for Severe Disciplinary Violations’ on your official separation papers.” “That means this record will follow you forever. It means you will fail every background check for your next job. It means you can forget about applying for grad school or civil service.” “Of course, if you cooperate and tough it out tonight, I can write it up as a standard resignation. Your choice.” I gripped my phone tightly, the screen casting a pale light on my face. At the desk next to mine, Jessica was shoving potato chips into her mouth, chewing loudly with aggressive crunches. At 5:30 PM. A sudden message popped up in the main company chat. “Hey, I heard there’s a massive discrepancy with the client payments Luke handled last week?” The chat was quiet for barely three seconds. Then someone else replied. “No wonder he’s in such a rush to quit and run. He’s terrified of an audit.” Derek chimed in as the Admin. “Colleagues, please do not spread unverified information. The company will handle this according to protocol.” He followed it up with an emoji. A sarcastic clown face. Underneath it read: IYKYK. The sheep immediately followed the formation. People started spamming the clown emoji. Others posted “Yikes” and a string of snickering faces. Jessica turned her head and gave me a filthy look. My entire body ran cold. I sat in my chair, utterly paralyzed by the sheer audacity of it. A few minutes later, Greg and Derek walked over to my desk. Greg was holding a stack of printed papers. He walked right up to me and violently slapped the stack directly against my face. He looked down at me with pure disdain. “Luke, the funds from the accounts you managed have completely vanished.” I looked up. Greg let out a dark chuckle. “Four thousand dollars. Let’s hear your excuse.” The surrounding office went completely silent. I reached up, caught one of the papers fluttering down from my face, and slammed it onto the desk. “Every single transaction was ordered directly by the boss. Every single one has an approval record in the system.” The corner of Greg’s mouth twitched upward. “Approval records? I checked the system. There’s nothing there. You think hiding behind Valerie’s name means we won’t investigate?” My fingernails dug violently into my palms. The two men stood over me, tossing insults one after another. “Luke, if you hadn’t thrown this massive tantrum about quitting, we wouldn’t have even looked deep enough to find all this dirt.” He stared at me, his eyes burning with undisguised malice. “Exactly. Auditing these books is exhausting, you know?” “The weather is absolute garbage, and you’re making us work overtime. You’re lucky we aren’t billing you for our lost hours!” Sitting there, looking at these two clowns, I almost laughed out loud. “You guys are putting on a hell of a show. Who’s the audience? Just spit it out. What do you want?” Derek stepped forward, pulled a single sheet of paper from a folder, and slammed it down in front of me. He used more force than I had. The paper bounced slightly off the wood. Statement of Voluntary Confession and Agreement to Compensate by Employee Luke. “Sign it. The money will be deducted from your paychecks in installments.” “Then this whole thing goes away. You put your head down, do your job, and stop bringing up all this garbage about resigning.” I let out a dry laugh. “And if I don’t sign?” “If you don’t sign, we call the cops the second this storm passes.” He glanced down at the scattered papers on the floor. “Four grand is a felony. It’s enough to lock you up for a good while. And I don’t think I need to educate you on what a prison record does to a resume, do I?” I pushed my chair back and stood up. “You lock the main doors. You trap over a hundred people inside. You freeze the access systems. There are no fire exits. There’s a Code Red weather warning outside, and we can’t leave. The legal term for that is false imprisonment.” “When the cops get here, what do you think they’re going to investigate first? A fabricated four grand, or the guys who locked the exits?” Derek’s pupils contracted sharply. But instead of getting angry, he laughed. He raised his hand and violently shoved me backward. Caught off guard, I stumbled back. My spine slammed hard into the edge of the cubicle partition with a sickening thud. Over a hundred people craned their necks to watch. Derek rolled his wrist, looking down at me like I was a bug. “We try to do this the nice way and you don’t listen. Guess you want to do this the hard way.” I glared at him. I was just about to swing back when a voice cut through the tension. “What is all this yelling? Are you all trying to get fired?” I looked over. It was Valerie. She walked over with a sweet, sickening smile on her face. She stared at the red mark developing on my arm and chuckled softly. “Luke, why do you always have to be so extreme?” She reached out to pat my shoulder, but I dodged her hand. “Locking the doors is a flood safety protocol. It’s not targeting you. Everyone is staying here tonight for centralized management, so we can keep our project timelines aligned. Look around.” She turned, opened her arms wide, and beamed at the hundred-plus employees in the room. “Does anyone here have an objection to the company’s arrangements for tonight? Speak up now.” It was like someone hit the mute button on the entire room. Marcus ducked his head. Jessica pushed her bag of chips to the far corner of her desk. The people who had been craning their necks just seconds ago snapped back into their seats, their eyes glued firmly to their monitors. Valerie turned back to me. Her smile hadn’t shifted a millimeter. “You see? Over a hundred people, and you’re the only one with a problem. Is it possible that the problem is actually you?” Marcus immediately threw a rock from the sidelines. “Luke, I’ve tolerated you for a long time. You don’t come to team-building events, you skip company dinners. You think you’re so special.” “Marcus, who covered your shift last week?” My throat felt tight with disgust. Marcus’s eyes darted away. “Did I ask you to? I didn’t beg you.” Jessica chimed in with a sneer. “He literally tracks his overtime pay down to the exact decimal point with Finance. Someone that petty? No wonder he embezzled four grand.” Last month, her code completely crashed. I stayed at the office until 3:00 AM fixing it for her. “Jessica, who fixed your fatal bugs?” Her face froze for a second. “Who asked you to fix them? You volunteered.” Valerie crossed her arms and watched me suffer. I took another step back. “I am leaving today. I’ll pay the money. Give me the account number. I will transfer the four grand right now. Just let me go.” Valerie laughed. She took a step closer. She wasn’t going to let me off the hook. “Luke, there’s a Code Red storm outside. How could I possibly let you leave with a clear conscience? This company is a collective. We are as warm and loving as a family.” I backed up until my lower back hit the edge of my desk. She reached out and pressed her hand over my phone, which was sitting on the desk. No, she didn’t press the phone. She pressed her hand directly over mine. Her palm covered the back of my hand. Her thumb slowly, suggestively stroked my skin. “Look at this, everyone. Luke is highly emotional right now. How could I let him leave alone? If something happens to him on the road, who takes responsibility?” I violently yanked my hand back, wiping the back of it furiously against my pants. I looked around. Marcus was staring into his coffee mug. Jessica was aggressively staring at her screen. Derek was inspecting his fingernails. Over a hundred people. Just minutes ago, their lips were moving a mile a minute dragging my name through the mud. Now, every single one of them was magically blind. “Let go of me!” I raised my arm to push her away, but she grabbed my wrist, her grip so tight my bones ground together. She leaned her face in close. “Luke, be a good boy. Stop throwing a tantrum.” Every hair on my body stood straight up. “Get off me! This is sexual harassment!” Valerie let go of my wrist, took a step back, and threw her hands up in mock innocence. “Sexual harassment? Is it a crime to care about my employees? Luke, aren’t you being a little too sensitive?” I stood in the middle of the crowd. My arm still stung from the shove. The feeling of her hand on mine felt like sticky slime on my skin. No matter how hard I rubbed it, I couldn’t get it off. My stomach churned violently. I wanted to vomit. “I am quitting right now. I will pay whatever penalty you want, but you are going to let me walk out that door right now.” I stared directly into Valerie’s eyes. “Or I am calling the police.” Valerie let out a cold, sharp sneer. “Like hell you’re leaving! Let me make this clear, Luke. I pay your salary. That means the time you spend in this building belongs to me. If I say you don’t quit, you don’t quit. It’s just a little rainstorm. You are staying in this office tonight!” I stared at her. A wave of pure nausea and dizziness washed over me simultaneously. In my previous life. I went to the bathroom after working late. Just as I pushed the stall door open, a hand reached out from inside. In my previous life, I screamed, but the torrential rain outside drowned out the sound. No one heard me. I gathered spit in my mouth and spat violently right in her face. Before she could even process what happened, I whipped out my phone and dialed my sister. “Sarah, I need you to come get me right now.” A hand reached out from behind me and wrenched the phone out of my grip. Valerie shoved my phone into Derek’s chest. She wiped her face, her expression twisting into something demonic. She grabbed my shoulders, pinning me in place. “Luke, do you really think paying me thirty grand ends this? I don’t give a damn about thirty grand. What I want is…” Her eyes slowly dragged down my body. The corner of her mouth hooked up into a sickening smirk. I knew exactly what she meant. I leaned back against the desk, my ten fingers gripping the edge of the wood so hard my knuckles turned white. Valerie reached out to grab my arm again. “Come on. Let’s go to my private office.” Right at that exact second. A deafening crash exploded from the direction of the main entrance. It was the sound of something heavy and reinforced being violently kicked off its hinges. The security access panel let out an ear-piercing screech. Every fluorescent light tube in the entire building flickered violently. I turned my head, completely stunned. My older sister, Sarah, was standing in the doorway. Behind her stood a row of massive, heavily built men. Their faces were dark as thunder.

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1 That evening was the eighteenth time Mark refused to meet me at my dorm. Frustrated, I nudged his chest; he tapped my forehead. “My time’s valuable, Iris. Could’ve read two journal articles waiting for you.” He checked his watch. “Six minutes, twenty-six seconds late. Date ends six minutes early.” Later, Jenny grumbled, “Next time I’m telling him off—he can’t treat you like this.” I forced a smile. “That’s just Mark. Hates waiting.” Before our next date, I cut my finger bandaging it took longer. His text popped up: One minute late. Date canceled. My time’s too valuable. Gripping the bleeding cut, a sharp ache bloomed in my chest. Then Jenny sent a video: Mark stood outside Fiona’s dorm. “Sorry!” Fiona panted. He smiled, fanning her with his notebook. “No rush,” he murmured softly. “Only waited twenty minutes—caught up on reading.” A tear hit my screen, blurring his face. I wiped it, downloaded the major transfer form, submitted it, then applied for the university’s confidential wilderness expedition. At the top of my chat with Jenny, the status flickered. Typing… then disappearing, then typing… again. Finally, her message popped up. I didn’t want to tell you this, but once when I was working my shift at the bistro downtown, I saw Mark sitting alone at a table. He waited for almost two hours. The food went completely cold. Fiona finally showed up, completely rushed, but he wasn’t angry at all. He just smiled. I remembered our second anniversary clearly. The restaurant had been backed up, and our main course took too long, pushing past the strict time slot he had allotted for our dinner. Without a word, Mark had stood up and walked out, leaving me sitting alone at the table with the bill. Jenny’s next text arrived: And another time at the amusement park, I happened to be standing right behind them in line for the famous Ferris wheel. The line took almost two hours. He spent the entire time fanning her and feeding her snacks. Mark loathed lines more than anything. I had begged him a dozen times to go on that very Ferris wheel with me, but he had dismissed me coldly every single time. I used to think it was just his rigid personality. But it wasn’t. He just didn’t want to bend for me. Seeing no reply, Jenny sent another message: Iris? Are you okay? My fingers trembled as I typed back: I’m fine. Thanks for telling me. I set the phone down, finalized my transfer application, and emailed it directly to our department advisor. Mark and Fiona were the golden students of our department, mentored closely by our dean. By their junior year, both had secured fast-track PhD offers. They were the acknowledged prodigies of the lab. Meanwhile, I had spent an entire grueling year retaking my college entrance exams just to get into the same university to stand by his side. My screen lit up with a message from Mark, accompanied by a screenshot of two movie tickets. Fiona’s having a rough day and wants to catch a movie. If you want to join, I’ll buy a third ticket. If he truly wanted me there, why hadn’t he just bought three to begin with? In our three-person group chat, Fiona sent a pleading emoji: Iris, please come with us? I really need a distraction. I typed back: I’m a bit tired. I’ll pass. Within seconds, Mark privately messaged me: Iris, stop being petty. I stared at the harsh letters on the screen. This isn’t on me, Mark wrote. Fiona has been practically living in the lab for two weeks. She’s exhausted. Is it really that hard for you to just be there for her and watch a movie? I squeezed my phone until my knuckles turned stark white. When my hand was bleeding, he hadn’t offered a single word of concern. But the moment Fiona mentioned a bad mood, he rearranged his entire day. Mark lived in his lab. To get him to agree to this movie date, I had begged him for a month. I had even created a color-coded schedule, planned down to the minute, promising I wouldn’t waste a single second of his precious time. Only Fiona’s exhaustion mattered. My boundaries were always labeled as moody tantrums. A bitter, burning ache rose in my throat. I typed out a slow, quiet reply: Don’t worry. It won’t happen again. He didn’t reply. I pushed the hurt down and buried myself in study guides for the transfer exam. Late in the evening, when my eyes were burning from fatigue, a message popped up in our group chat. Mark: Come down to the dining hall. I got you a gift. Despite everything, my heart betrayed me, skipping a beat. I practically ran down the stairs, arriving at the dining hall breathless. Mark stood there, shoving a massive, plush teddy bear into my arms before reaching out to pinch my cheek. “Do you like it?” Clutching the giant toy, my chest fluttered. Then Fiona slung an arm over my shoulder, playfully nudging my hip. “Mark and I entered that couple’s carrying contest on the campus plaza. We had to hold on for thirty minutes to win that thing! I am absolutely exhausted.” The smile froze on my face. A couple’s carrying contest? Where he had to hold her in his arms? Mark scoffed, though his eyes were warm. “You have no right to complain. I was the one carrying your entire weight.” “Hey, keeping my balance and holding on tight takes a lot of core strength too!” Fiona shot back, giggling. They fell into an easy, teasing banter, completely ignoring me as a cold shiver ran down my spine. Mark had always detested public displays of affection with me. Once, I had playfully hugged him from behind on campus, only for him to pull my hands away with a cold, disapproving scold. I tossed the plush bear onto the nearest table and turned on my heel. Mark stepped quickly to block my path, his brow furrowing. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t you like the bear?” Fiona stood frozen, looking worried. “Iris, did I say something wrong?” I shook my head and looked Mark dead in the eye. “Meet me outside my dorm building tomorrow morning. I have something to say to you.” Deep down, a pathetic, desperate spark of hope still flickered. If he just showed up, if he could change even a little, maybe I could forgive him. Mark sighed heavily. “If you have something to say, say it now. Waiting around is a massive waste of time.” Yet Jenny had told me he once waited outside Fiona’s lecture hall for three hours just to walk her home. Before I could speak, Mark’s phone buzzed. It was a call from their lab director. He patted my head, his sigh heavy with irritation. “Just be reasonable for once, okay?” He unlocked his bicycle. Fiona smoothly hopped onto the back rack, naturally wrapping her arms around his waist. “We have to run, Iris,” Fiona called out with a wave. “Get back safe!” In our two years of dating, Mark had never let me ride on his bike. He always told me it was too dangerous. Back in my room, the department advisor called. “Iris, you’re in your sophomore year. Are you absolutely certain about switching your major to Earth Sciences?” “Yes,” I whispered. “I’m sure.” During our first college entrance exams, my score had been fifty points lower than Mark’s. Against the wishes of my parents and teachers, I chose to retake the entire senior year. My classmates laughed at me, calling me a fool who was throwing her life away for a boy. The second year, I finally made it. I got into his university, his major. But all it brought me was incomprehensible coursework and a string of failed lab experiments. Mark would pinch the bridge of his nose, staring at my struggling data sheets with deep disappointment. “If only you had half of Fiona’s brains,” he would mutter. Silent tears fell onto my desk. I hung up the phone, logged into the university portal, and finalized the transfer. It was time to chase my own path. The next morning, a photo popped up in our group chat. It was a selfie of Fiona and Mark lying head-to-head on a narrow dorm bed. Fiona had added a tired emoji: We pulled an all-nighter in the lab and collapsed. Slept like logs! My gaze lingered on the jacket draped over Mark’s shoulders. It was the coat Fiona had worn the night before. A minute later, as if realizing how it looked, Fiona sent another text: Don’t worry, Iris! We’re basically siblings. We could share a bed for a year and nothing would ever happen! I remembered our only weekend trip together. Mark had insisted on booking a room with separate twin beds. When I teased him for being old-fashioned, his face had hardened as he lectured me about personal boundaries and principles. Sometimes, grief makes even breathing feel heavy. I didn’t reply. I simply tapped the button to leave the group chat. Within seconds, private notifications flooded my screen. Mark: Why did you leave the group? Fiona: Iris, what’s wrong? I picked up my phone and typed a brief response to both: Nothing. Exams are coming up and I need to focus. Fiona replied instantly: Oh, thank goodness! I was terrified you’d misinterpret the photo. Fiona had known how much I loved Mark since high school. When we entered college, she had promised to help me keep an eye on him, ensuring no other girls got too close. Yet she was the one who crossed every single line. Once my transfer was officially approved, I practically lived in the library. For days, I used exams as a shield to avoid them. When the finals finally ended, I was walking to the dining hall when Mark intercepted me. He blocked my path, staring down at me with cold fury. “Iris, what on earth are you doing?” I blinked, startled. “What?” “You know how hard Fiona worked for the President’s Scholarship. Why did you report her?” I gripped the textbooks against my chest, their sharp edges digging painfully into my palms. My throat tightened. “Did you actually see me report her?” “On the day of the scholarship posting, someone saw you walk into the advisor’s office. Right after you left, an anonymous reporting letter was submitted.” Mark’s expression grew colder. “The report contained details so specific that only someone close to her would know. Who else could it be?” His unwavering certainty sliced straight through my chest. Footsteps approached from behind. Fiona slipped between us, keeping her eyes carefully averted from mine. “Mark, stop. Whether Iris did it or not, I don’t want to pursue this anymore.” I don’t want to pursue this. How beautifully ambiguous. She wasn’t defending my innocence; she was playing the saint who graciously forgave my supposed betrayal. She turned to me, her voice dripping with sweet concern. “Iris, don’t take it to heart. Mark is just worried about me.” The air between us turned ice-cold. I blinked away the tears, my gaze turning dead silent. “Let’s break up, Mark.” Mark looked at me as if I had lost my mind. “Over a few words? Seriously?” “Yes. Over this.” Fiona gasped, looking shocked. “Iris, don’t do this in the heat of the moment!” I looked directly at her. “And as for you, we are no longer friends.” Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked away. We didn’t exchange a single word for the next few days. One afternoon, our class representative pulled me aside to hand over my official transfer slip. “Did you and Mark break up?” she whispered. I didn’t say a word, just gave a small nod. She winced. “People have been talking. Everyone’s seen him and Fiona lately. They eat lunch together every day and walk around the campus track every evening.” Walking around the track with Mark had always been a luxury I was denied. He always said walking was a waste of time, time better spent reading articles. “What transfer?” Mark’s voice cut in from behind us. I looked at him, my expression blank. “Nothing.” He reached out to take my hand, but I stepped back, letting his fingers grasp empty air. His brow furrowed. “You haven’t been to the lab in days. Are you abandoning your research, and your boyfriend?” I looked away. “We broke up, Mark.” Mark’s throat bobbed. He took a heavy step forward, forcing me to take half a step back. “Are you listening to those stupid campus rumors? Fiona is your best friend, and I am your boyfriend. You shouldn’t let cheap gossip get to you.” Gossip? Everyone in the department could see what was happening. If either of them had even an ounce of respect for boundaries, the rumors wouldn’t exist in the first place. A mocking smile touched my lips. Mark reached out and gave my hair a gentle, patronizing tug. “You’re always overthinking things.” His phone buzzed in his pocket. It was their professor. He answered, spoke briefly, and hung up. Looking back at me, he said, “You and Fiona haven’t hung out in a while. Once the lab project wraps up next Sunday, let’s all grab dinner.” With that, he turned and hurried off. There would be no next Sunday. My field research project had been approved, and my departure was set for three days from now. The next day, I went to the lab to pack up my personal belongings. As I reached the door, I saw Mark walking out, his arm casually draped over Fiona’s shoulder. Fiona called out to me, “Iris! Why haven’t you been coming to the lab lately?” My transfer had already been finalized in the system. I stared at his hand resting on her arm, then forced a flat smile. “I’ve been tired lately. I’m taking a break.” Mark gave a brief nod. “Good. Take some time to rest.” I returned to my room and began packing my bags. Just as I finished packing my suitcase, a message from Fiona flashed on my screen. Oh my god, Iris! You are literally the best friend ever! Mark told me you agreed to let me take first author on your research paper. Thank you so much! Next week’s dinner is on me! Below the text was a screenshot of the accepted journal paper. First Author: Fiona. Second Author: Iris. I had spent an entire year bleeding for this project. I had worked through migraines, ended up in the emergency room with acute gastritis from stress, and spent endless sleepless nights gathering that data. Fiona’s only contribution had been proofreading a few references. And Mark knew that better than anyone. I sat frozen in front of my desk, my mind completely blank. The next morning, I picked up my bags. Jenny hugged me tight, her eyes rimmed with red. “Stay safe out there.” I hugged her back, tears stinging my eyes. As I walked out toward the campus gates, a familiar laugh floated over from the path behind me. “Thanks to you, the paper got submitted smoothly,” Fiona’s voice giggled. “And these flowers are absolutely gorgeous. You have great taste.” “So, how are you going to thank me?” Mark’s voice replied, playful. Mark rode past me on his bicycle, Fiona sitting on the back, holding a massive, vibrant bouquet of flowers. Mark had severe allergic rhinitis. He had never bought me flowers, and had strictly forbidden me from bringing them anywhere near him. I didn’t look at them. I kept my eyes straight ahead, raised my hand, and hailed a taxi to the airport. Sitting in the airport terminal, my phone vibrated with a text from Mark. I need your help with an analysis in the lab. Get over here now. The boarding announcement echoed through the speakers. I stood up and smoothed my jacket. A second message popped up immediately: Where are you? Don’t make me wait. I typed out a final reply: You don’t have to wait for me ever again. Don’t look for me. I hit send, then blocked his number and every single one of his social media accounts. As the boarding call sounded again, I turned my back on the city and walked toward the gate.

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I rushed into the roaring fire to pull Ethan out, leaving myself with horrific, permanent burns. At the hospital, Ethan swore to God: “V Vivi, I will never let you suffer a single day for the rest of your life.” But the moment his new young secretary arrived, he sided with her on everything, constantly making things hard for me. “She’s just a young, innocent girl. You’re being too sensitive and paranoid.” “So what if she got the wedding dress style wrong? Is that really worth firing her over?” On our wedding day, I was locked in a dark, dusty utility room with zero cell service, unable to call for help. Instead of looking for me, Ethan held his young secretary’s hand and walked down the aisle. Seven years of deep love, a life risked to save him—and I was turned into the “other woman” in my own story. … “Vivian, get in here.” The text lit up my phone screen. The words practically dripped with coldness and resentment. In all the years I’d known Ethan, this was the first time he had ever called me by my full name instead of Vivi. As soon as I walked into his office, I ran straight into Chloe. Her eyes were red and welling with tears, looking like a fragile, kicked puppy. “Ms. Hale, I am so, so sorry. Please just give me one more chance,” she sobbed. “I didn’t know you hated your burn scars so much. It was my fault!” She was apologizing with her mouth, but her eyes were gleaming with pure provocation. Without my permission, she had taken it upon herself to call the bridal boutique and change my long-sleeved wedding dress to an off-the-shoulder gown. Not only would it expose my horrific scars to hundreds of guests, but it was also the dead of winter, with temperatures dropping below freezing. If the boutique hadn’t sent me a confirmation photo, I would have been completely humiliated on my own wedding day. It was a glaringly obvious trap, but Ethan refused to see it. “Vivian, so what if she made a mistake with the dress style? Is that really worth firing her over?” Ethan’s voice was sharp and accusing. Seeing that she had a protector, Chloe cried even harder, her tears falling like perfectly timed rain. Ethan instinctively reached for a tissue to hand to her. But maybe because he felt my burning glare, he stopped mid-motion and awkwardly sat back down. “Chloe, go back to your desk. No one is firing you. Just focus on your work,” he said, shielding her protectively. Chloe turned to leave. As she brushed past me, she let out a tiny, almost imperceptible smirk. “Vivian, your temper has gotten so much worse lately,” Ethan sighed, rubbing his temples. “You used to be so lenient with the staff. Why are you so hostile toward Chloe?” He was genuinely baffled. In his mind, I was just relentlessly bullying a young girl. Ever since Chloe became his personal secretary, Ethan’s attitude toward me had shifted. Initially, he used to complain about how clumsy and incompetent she was, even asking me to fire her several times. But in just two short months, everything flipped. He started praising her constantly, his voice filled with admiration and trust. They became inseparable. People in the office were already whispering: “Wherever Ethan Vance is, Chloe Brooks is less than five feet away.” “Are you seriously blind, Ethan? Can’t you see she did this on purpose?” I demanded. I hated arguing over these petty things, but Ethan was refusing to give me a way out. “What kind of scheme could a young girl like her possibly have? You’re just paranoid.” He looked at me, his eyes suddenly darkening with doubt and a strange, twisted pain. “You hate your scars so much… Tell me, Vivian, do you regret saving me that night?” My breath hitched. That stormy night years ago. Ethan had gotten completely wasted at a business dinner, and I had hired a personal driver to take us home. But we hadn’t driven far before the car slammed into a utility pole and caught fire. Within seconds, the vehicle was engulfed in flames. Without a second thought for my own safety, I had dragged him out of the burning wreck. “Boom!” A violent explosion went off right behind us. I had shielded his body with mine, and my shoulder took the brunt of the blast, leaving me with third-degree burns. The young hired driver didn’t make it out in time. He died in that fiery wreck. Burn recovery is widely known as one of the most agonizing medical processes a person can endure. The bandages were constantly soaked with pus and blood. To cope with the excruciating pain, I had to take massive doses of painkillers. Seeing me in such agony, Ethan had been consumed by guilt and gratitude. He had held my hand, tears streaming down his face, and sworn: “Vivi, I’m so sorry. I caused you all this pain. I swear to God, I will never let you suffer a single day for the rest of your life. If I ever break this promise, may my life fall into ruin.” Life loves to play cruel jokes. It hands you a beautiful dream, only to crush it right before your eyes. To protect Chloe, he was actively rubbing salt into my oldest, deepest wound. “Seven years, Ethan. We’ve been together for seven years, and this is really what you think of me?” My chest ached so badly that tears finally spilled over. We had built this company from nothing. We had starved together, struggled through the worst of times, and finally made it to the top. Just a year ago, he had gotten down on one knee and proposed to me in front of everyone, crying like a baby. I had always been the strong one. Seeing me cry now flustered him. Ethan stepped forward and gently wrapped his arms around me, his tone softening. “Vivi, don’t cry. I get it. What woman doesn’t want to look beautiful on her wedding day?” he murmured. “But you have to face your scars. You can’t just take your anger out on innocent people. Chloe is still young and inexperienced. There’s no need to hold a grudge against a kid.” It sounded like comfort, but every single word was still defending Chloe.

A cold gel was smeared across my lower abdomen, and the ultrasound transducer slid gently over my skin. “Congratulations, Vivian. You are eight weeks pregnant. The fetus is very healthy.” The words hit me like a shockwave. I had thought I could never be a mother. To heal my severe burn scars back then, I had taken a massive amount of hormonal medications and heavy painkillers. Asher Cole, my primary doctor and dermatologist, had frowned when he looked at my charts years ago, warning me that the heavy medication might leave me infertile. I had broken down in hysterics. Ethan had held me tight, kissing away my tears. “As long as I have you, I don’t care about kids. You are my only baby,” he had promised. That promise had been my anchor. But to the Vance family, it was a declaration of war. “Ethan, you better think carefully,” his father had roared when he found out about our engagement. “If you marry this woman, it means you’ll have no heir. As the only son of the Vance family, you won’t inherit a single dime of our estate.” His father had tried everything to tear us apart. But Ethan had stood firm. He had been willing to walk away from his entire family fortune just to marry me. My hands shook as I dialed Ethan’s number. I couldn’t wait to share this miracle with him. But when the call connected, a sweet, cloying voice answered instead. “Hello? Vivi?” It was Chloe. “Chloe, let me make this very clear,” I snapped, refusing to play her games. “As long as you are an employee of this company, you will address me as Ms. Hale.” She paused, clearly taken aback, before putting on her usual meek tone. “Ms. Hale, is there something you need?” “Put Ethan on the phone. I have something important to tell him.” “Oh, I’m sorry, but Mr. Vance doesn’t want to take any calls right now. Especially yours,” she said, letting out a soft, mocking giggle. Before I could say another word, she hung up. Since our last argument in his office, we had been in a cold war for an entire week. Neither of us had spoken a word, each waiting for the other to apologize. In the past, whenever we fought, Ethan would always swallow his pride and apologize the very next day, regardless of who was at fault. He knew how stubborn I was, and he was always afraid I’d stress myself out and ruin my health. Now, because of Chloe, he wouldn’t even give me a bridge to cross. “You’re thirty years old, Vivian, not some college girl. Stop throwing tantrums.” “I suggest you drop this attitude. There’s a limit to how long you can milk this.” Those were the last words he had said to me before jetting off on an out-of-town business trip with Chloe. But life is unpredictable. Just as I was starting to seriously question my future with Ethan, this tiny new life appeared. It was as if this baby knew how desperately I, a girl who grew up in a broken home, craved a real family. I decided to compromise for the sake of our child. The moment Ethan saw the pregnancy report, his cold, stony face instantly melted. He wept tears of pure joy, scooping me up and spinning me around the room. “Vivi, thank you. Thank you for making me a father.” He kissed my face repeatedly, and just like that, our relationship seemed to snap back to the way it used to be. But the morning sickness hit me hard. I spent my days dizzy, exhausted, and nauseous. Seeing how much I was struggling, Ethan insisted I stop going to the office. He made me stay home to rest and even hired a personal nutritionist to prepare all my meals. Even Ethan’s mother, who had treated me like dirt for years, suddenly softened her attitude. She started visiting, bringing over various expensive supplements. But when she walked in and saw me hunched over the toilet, dry-heaving violently, her face hardened. “You should be grateful your body could even carry a child. That’s thanks to my son’s good genetics, you know,” she said coldly. “Stop being so dramatic. You need to eat, or the baby won’t get any nutrients.” She shoved a bowl of a thick, organic homeopathic prenatal tonic under my nose. I forced myself to take two sips, but my stomach immediately revolted. I threw up everything, even coughing up yellow bile. “Oh my god! Don’t do that, it’s disgusting!” his mother shrieked, backing away. “What a complete waste of expensive ingredients.” She glared at me and stormed out. The Vance family had always looked down on me. No matter how hard I worked to help Ethan build his business, in their eyes, I was just a low-class girl trying to climb the social ladder.

Ethan took a day off to accompany me to the bridal boutique for our final fitting. Because of the pregnancy, my body had filled out, and the dress measurements needed to be adjusted. “Does this one look better, or the other one?” I asked, looking at him for feedback. “Yeah, both are fine,” he muttered, not even looking up. His fingers were flying across his phone screen, his brow furrowed in a deep frown. “Ethan, this is our wedding fitting. Can you please put the work away for just one hour?” I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to suppress the hormonal rage bubbling in my chest. He finally put his phone down and tried to focus on the dresses, but within two minutes, his phone rang. “Don’t panic, Chloe. Send me your location right now. I’m coming.” “Don’t cry. I’m on my way.” Ethan hung up in a panic, already standing up to leave, completely ignoring me. I grabbed his arm, my voice shaking with suppressed anger. “Where do you think you’re going?” “Chloe said there’s a stalker following her. She’s terrified. I have to go help her.” “Why doesn’t she call the police? You aren’t her bodyguard, Ethan.” “She’s a young girl, Vivian! When people are terrified, they don’t think straight. She panicked and called me.” “Ethan, please. Don’t go. I need you here today,” I pleaded, swallowing my pride, begging him with my eyes. A flicker of hesitation crossed his face, but then his phone buzzed again with a frantic text. He shook his hand free from my grip. “Vivian, when did you become so cold and heartless?” he said, his voice dropping to a freezing temperature. “You used to be the kind of person who wouldn’t even step on an ant.” He left. He chose to play the hero for Chloe. Later, I found out Chloe had clung to him, crying about how scared she was to go home. He spent the entire night at a hotel with her, claiming he couldn’t leave a traumatized girl alone. He didn’t come home that night. On the morning of our wedding, I received a text from an unknown number: “If you want to see the private photos of Ethan and me, come to the second-floor utility room.” The utility room was empty and dark. I walked in cautiously, using my phone flashlight to guide my way. “Slam!” The heavy door shut behind me, and the lock clicked. I was trapped. Dust swirled in the air, making me cough violently. I checked my phone—no service. I had been set up. The ceremony was starting in ten minutes. I tried to calm myself down. Once Ethan realized I was missing, he would definitely search the venue and find me. This hotel wasn’t that big. But minutes turned into an agonizing half-hour. There were no footsteps, no voices calling my name. The silence was deafening. A cold dread settled in my stomach. I pounded on the door with all my might, screaming for help until my throat was raw. Finally, an hour later, a housekeeping lady unlocked the door. She gasped, horrified by my pale, sweat-drenched appearance. “Oh my goodness, dear! What happened? Why were you locked in there?” “The wedding…” I gasped, grabbing her arm. “Is the groom still upstairs? Is everyone panicked?” The maid looked at me with confusion and pity. “The wedding? Honey, the ceremony finished half an hour ago. The reception is in full swing upstairs.” The words felt like a physical blow. I tried to convince myself it must be another couple’s wedding. But when I stumbled up to the grand ballroom, the scene before me shattered my soul. On the decorated stage, Chloe was wearing my custom-made wedding dress, looking like a blooming princess, holding a bouquet of white lilies. And honestly, she looked beautiful in it. So young, so flawless. The ballroom was packed with high-society guests. Ethan was holding Chloe’s hand, walking table to table, smiling and raising his glass. They looked like the perfect, golden couple. A sharp, stabbing pain flared in my chest. It felt like an iron band was wrapping around my heart, squeezing until I couldn’t breathe. Suddenly, a violent cramp seized my lower abdomen. “My baby… you regret coming into this family too, don’t you?” The operating room smelled strongly of disinfectant. “Ms. Hale, you are twelve weeks pregnant. Are you absolutely sure you want to terminate the pregnancy?” the doctor asked softly, a hint of pity in her eyes. I nodded slowly, lying flat on the cold table, staring at the ceiling as the anesthesia began to take effect. When I finally woke up, the door opened. It was Asher. Ever since he treated my burns years ago, we had remained close friends. He looked down at me, his eyes filled with heartache. “Vivi… no regrets?” I didn’t answer. He reached out and gently wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Doctor, is that the baby?” I turned my head, pointing to the silver tray nearby. It was so tiny. Just a small, silent mass of tissue, but I could already trace the faint, delicate shape of a face. It looked just like Ethan. I carefully wrapped the sterile container in tissue and placed it inside a small, elegant white gift box. “Be good, sweetie. Mommy is going to take you to see your father and your grandparents.”

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