Author: Momo Chan

I was looking at the interior design blueprints for our future house with Ethan. He insisted on installing a suspended swing chair on the south-facing balcony. I reminded him, “I have severe acrophobia. Even a tiny bit of suspension makes my head spin.” He casually flipped through the color palette. “It’s romantic to sit there once in a while. You can get over it.” It wasn’t until that night that the algorithm pushed Chloe’s secret Instagram account to me. Five years ago, Ethan had left a comment under one of her posts: “In our future home, I will definitely install your favorite swing chair on the balcony.” Staring at the screen, the dizziness in my head suddenly vanished. The next day, I went to the sales gallery. Calmly, I crossed my name off the joint purchase contract. The sales agent looked at me in shock. I smiled. “This apartment isn’t a good fit. I’m not buying it anymore.” Ethan had no idea that I had already paid in full for a luxury penthouse on the Southside. The balcony there was filled only with roses, my absolute favorite.

“The manufacturer confirmed the swing chair will arrive next Wednesday. The steel cables are aviation-grade and can hold up to four hundred pounds. I tested it myself.” Ethan didn’t even change his shoes when he walked in. He shoved his phone right in front of my face. The screen showed a 3D rendering of a white hanging basket chair. I was washing dishes in the kitchen, the faucet running. He held the phone closer. “We can add a woven rattan fence around the base. Didn’t you say you’re afraid of heights? With the fence, you won’t feel suspended at all.” How thoughtful. Because what a person with severe acrophobia needs most is a swing chair suspended two meters high, wrapped in a rattan fence. “I won’t sit on it.” “Here we go again.” He laughed, wrapping his arm around my waist. “You can just watch me sit on it from the living room. Just treat it as decor. It looks nice.” Decor. Three hours ago, I had just returned from the sales gallery. My name had been crossed out, stroke by stroke, from the purchase contract. The agent’s ballpoint pen had left a harsh blue ink smear. And here he was, still picking out color swatches. I turned off the faucet. “Ethan, did you look at Chloe’s Instagram today?” His hand on my lower back froze. It wasn’t guilt. It was the reflexive irritation of someone having a name brought up that he thought was long buried. “What Instagram?” “Her finsta. The post from five years ago.” He let go of me and leaned against the kitchen counter. “Why were you snooping through her Instagram?” “The algorithm recommended it.” “So, you spent the middle of the night digging through my ex-girlfriend’s private account, found a five-year-old comment, and now you’re interrogating me?” He opened the fridge, grabbed a can of beer, and popped the tab with a sharp crack. “Sienna, you’re twenty-six years old.” That sentence sounded uglier than any excuse he could have made. He didn’t say I was petty. He didn’t say I was throwing a tantrum. He just reminded me of my age, implying that my behavior was too immature for twenty-six. “That swing chair is Chloe’s favorite thing.” “It’s also something I find aesthetically pleasing. Do those two things have to conflict?” “You know damn well I’m terrified of heights.” “That’s why I added the fence.” He took a sip of beer and tapped the can against the counter. “Sienna, I’m already compromising here. You can’t keep pushing me.” Compromise. Slapping a band-aid on something that shouldn’t have been there in the first place is what he called a compromise. “Let’s break up.” The TV was playing a home renovation show. The designer was talking about maximizing balcony space. Ethan took a bite of a watermelon slice, chewing slowly. “Just because of a chair?” “Because that chair was meant for Chloe.” “She casually mentioned she liked it years ago, and I thought the design was good, so I added it to the layout. Are you seriously taking this so out of proportion that you want to break up?” He stood up, towering over me. “You put down three hundred and fifty thousand dollars for the down payment. You’re just going to throw that away?” “Yes. I don’t want it anymore.” “Sienna.” His voice dropped, a dangerous undercurrent rising. “Take those words back right now, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear them. If you keep pushing this, it won’t be about the chair anymore.” It wasn’t about the chair. It was about me. It was always about me. My phone rang. It was Harper. The moment I picked up, she exploded. “Sienna, did you see that Instagram post? I took a screenshot—” “I saw it. Help me book a moving company for tomorrow. I don’t have much. One trip will do.” I hung up. Ethan’s expression finally shifted. “Why are you moving?” “To pack my things.” “Moving where?” I didn’t answer. The key in my bag pressed hard against my knuckles. A 1,500-square-foot luxury penthouse, paid in full. The cold metal felt like an anchor of pure relief. He stared at me for five seconds, then smirked. “Fine. Go ahead and throw your tantrum. Let me know when you’ve had enough.” He turned, walked into the bedroom, and slammed the door shut. I leaned against the counter, hearing him turn on his iPad almost immediately. The sound of a video leaked through the gap under the door. He didn’t care at all. A few minutes later, his voice drifted out from behind the door. “Don’t forget to go to the leasing office this weekend to sign the final renovation approval. Both of us need to be there. Don’t forget.”

“My project is at a critical phase right now, and I don’t have the energy to deal with your mood swings. Think about it yourself.” The next morning, Ethan set his black suitcase by the door. His shirt was buttoned all the way to the top. He looked like he was leaving for a business trip, not a cold war. “There are leftovers in the fridge. Just microwave them.” His tone even carried a hint of forced tenderness. Leaving me a way out, waiting for me to back down. Every fight we had followed this exact routine: he would freeze me out for a few days, I would panic, I would apologize first, and he would graciously forgive me. For two years, it had been as smooth as a programmed script. “When will you be back?” I asked. “Whenever you come to your senses.” The door clicked shut. The sound of his dress shoes on the stairs grew more confident with every step. I stood by the window and watched his black sedan pull out of the parking garage and disappear around the corner. I pulled out my phone and called the property management of my new place. “Hi, this is Sienna. I’m in Penthouse 2301, Building B on the Southside. I’ll be over this afternoon to pick up the spare key and activate my key fob.” Twenty minutes later, Harper showed up at my door with two cups of coffee. “The movers will be here at nine-thirty. Do you have a lot of stuff?” “Not really. Just clothes, a few boxes of books, and a suitcase. He bought all the big furniture.” She scanned the living room, her eyes landing on the pair of men’s slippers by the shoe rack. “Sienna, you’ve been with Ethan for two years. The things in this apartment that actually belong to you can be counted on one hand?” I knelt down to drag a box out from the bottom of the closet. “He said he wanted a unified aesthetic for the apartment. He told me not to clutter it.” “Where’s your floor lamp? The one I saw last time?” “He thought it was ugly and made me return it.” “And that art print?” “He said it didn’t match the living room’s color palette.” “Where is your cat?” Harper’s voice suddenly dropped. “The white cat you had for three years?” I didn’t answer. She stood up straight and stared at me. “When he forced you to give your cat away, why didn’t you break up with him then?” “He said having a cat would affect our future pregnancy. I thought he made sense back then.” “And now?” I packed my books into the cardboard box, one by one. “Now I realize that a home that couldn’t even tolerate my cat was never my home to begin with.” By ten-thirty, everything was packed. Seven boxes in total, plus one suitcase. Two years of my life fit into less than half of a moving truck. The mover looked at the beautifully furnished apartment, then at my tiny pile of luggage. He didn’t ask a single question. As we drove out of the gate, my phone buzzed. Ethan had sent a voice note. I tapped play. “The cafeteria food at the office is terrible today. Eat out for lunch. And don’t forget to pay this month’s HOA fees.” His breathing was steady, and I could hear people laughing and talking in the background. Then, a soft female voice floated in from nearby: “Ethan…” It was gentle, sweet, with a playful lilt at the end. The voice lingered in my mind for less than a second, but that was enough. Harper leaned in. “Who was that?” “I’m not sure.” “Replay it.” “Forget it.” I put my phone away and cleared the chat. My new place on the Southside had just been completed late last year, fully furnished by the developer. I had paid an extra two hundred thousand to get the top floor, with a clear view of the entire river on the left. The building manager who took me up mentioned that there were only two units on this floor. My neighbor was an architect who was still in the middle of remodeling. I turned the key, and the door opened. The living room was empty and spacious, flooded with sunlight from the south-facing French windows. On the balcony stood an iron flower rack left by the previous owner, covered in a thin layer of rust. I walked out to the balcony and looked down. Twenty-third floor. The wind was strong. But my head didn’t spin at all. My phone lit up. A text from Ethan. “Come back when you’ve thought it through. Don’t make me wait too long.” I dragged his chat to the very bottom of my archive list. I didn’t delete him, and I didn’t block him. I just let him sink. Harper leaned against the doorframe, watching me. “He doesn’t know you bought this place, does he?” “No.” “So what does he think he’s doing right now?” I hung my keys on the hook by the door. “He thinks he’s punishing me.”

“Sienna! You’re here? Ethan is in a meeting inside. Do you want me to call him out for you?” Ethan’s coworker, Justin, came out of the breakroom holding an iced Americano. When he saw me signing the visitor log at the front desk, he greeted me with a warm smile. I held up a ziplock bag containing the key fob to the shared apartment. “No need. Just leave this at the front desk.” He leaned in to take a closer look—the blue key fob was glaringly obvious inside the clear plastic bag. His smile froze for a fraction of a second. “Sienna, you guys aren’t playing around, are you?” “Just hand it to him for me, please.” “No, no, no.” He grabbed my arm. “Ethan’s been living at the office the past couple of days, looking like he’s ready to sue someone. Since you’re already here, come on in and sit.” Before I could refuse, he pulled me toward the end of the hallway. “The conference room is on the left. Sit down, and I’ll grab you a cup of water.” The door was slightly ajar. There wasn’t just one voice inside. Several men were laughing, mixed with a soft, feminine chuckle—sweet, with a hint of flirtation. “Ethan, I emailed you the design drafts. The client specifically requested this style, and it happens to be your expertise.” It was Chloe. Through the crack in the door, I saw her. The girl with the ponytail from the five-year-old Instagram profile picture had fully grown up. She wore an off-the-shoulder dress, her wavy hair draped over one shoulder, sitting diagonally across from Ethan, holding a custom mug. She looked entirely at ease, as if she were having afternoon tea in her own living room. Justin’s voice piped up from behind me. “Ethan, has Sienna cooled down yet? It’s been four days.” Ethan’s voice was flat, like he was reading a tedious weekly report. “I don’t know.” “Aren’t you going to call her? She’s home alone,” another male voice said. “If she wants to throw a fit, let her. If I give in this time, how am I supposed to keep her in line in the future?” Keep her in line. He used that phrase. Like training a disobedient pet. —That was probably how he “kept in line” the cat he forced me to give away. Chloe’s voice chimed in right on cue, low and dripping with mock apology. “It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t casually mentioned back then that I liked swing chairs, Ethan wouldn’t have… Sienna must have misunderstood. Should I reach out and explain it to her?” She called me Sienna. But her tone carried a patronizing weight. She was actually two years older than me. “No need.” Ethan sounded slightly annoyed. “If you explain it, it’ll only make things worse. That’s just how she is—smart with big things, but clueless about the small details. Just leave her alone for a few days, and she’ll crawl back on her own.” Leave her alone. She’ll crawl back. Like a stray pet that would naturally find its way home once it got hungry enough. The door was pushed open. Justin walked in with a paper cup, and when he saw me still standing in the hallway, a look of pure embarrassment flashed across his face. Ethan’s gaze cut through the doorway and locked onto mine. He stood up and walked to the door. Not to welcome me. But to block me. He didn’t want me to step into that room. Or rather, he didn’t want Chloe and me in the same space. “What are you doing here?” “Returning the key fob.” I handed him the plastic bag. He looked down at it but didn’t reach out to take it. “Had enough of your tantrum?” “Keep the key fob. The utilities for the apartment have already been transferred under your name.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. From behind him, Chloe’s voice drifted out, perfectly pitched. “Ethan, don’t forget to reply to my email.” He didn’t turn around, just gave a brief wave of his hand. It was an incredibly casual, intimate gesture. The kind reserved only for people you knew inside out. “Sienna, where are you staying right now?” “None of your business.” “What do you mean ‘none of my business’? The contract still has your name on it—” “Not anymore.” He froze, but only for a second. He probably thought I was just talking out of anger. “Fine. Go home first. We’ll talk after I finish this project.” He finally took the key fob. Holding the corner of the plastic bag with two fingers, as if holding something entirely trivial. I turned and walked toward the elevator. Before the doors closed, laughter erupted from the conference room again. Chloe was saying something in her soft, sweet voice. The elevator reached the lobby. My phone buzzed. A three-second voice note from Ethan. “Come back this weekend. The apartment needs cleaning.”

“Sienna, babe, sorry to bother you. It’s Chloe.” The friend request popped up at nine in the evening. I had just finished planting the last rose bush into the soil of my balcony rack. Her profile picture was a blurry, backlit photo. The request message was just that one line. I stared at it for three seconds before tapping accept. The reply came almost instantly. It was like she had been waiting. “Sienna, I am so incredibly sorry. The whole swing chair thing is entirely my fault. I shouldn’t have said those things to Ethan in the past and caused a misunderstanding between you two.” Her punctuation was perfect, every sentence ending with a neat period. It read as formal as a corporate email. “You know how Ethan is—he has a typical guy’s brain. He just thought it looked nice and used it; he didn’t think much of it. He really didn’t mean anything else by it, I can promise you that.” Three messages in a row, sent in one breath. I didn’t reply. She waited thirty seconds before sending another. “Please don’t be mad at him, okay? Men are like that—they don’t know how to express themselves, but he really cares about you deep down. He barely slept at the office these past few nights.” Leaning against my balcony flower rack, the cool wind from the twenty-third floor swept over me, carrying the scent of damp soil. I typed out a single line and sent it. “You call me ‘babe,’ but you’re two years older than me.” The typing indicator on her end disappeared for three seconds. When she typed again, her tone was even softer. “Sorry, slip of the tongue. Sienna, I’m only saying this because I don’t want you and Ethan to have friction because of me.” “Whether Ethan and I have friction has absolutely nothing to do with you.” “I know you must feel hurt. Any girl would feel hurt seeing that old Instagram comment. But that was truly five years ago.” Five years ago. He had left a total of forty-seven comments under her Instagram posts. “That new lipstick looks great on you.” “Don’t forget to eat when you work late, or I’ll get mad.” “In our future home, I will definitely install your favorite swing chair on the balcony.” Forty-seven comments. Yet in the two years he was with me, he hadn’t left a single comment on my page. “Chloe, did you text me to apologize for him, or to clean up his mess?” Read, but no reply. Five minutes later, she sent a voice note. I didn’t play it. At the exact same time, Ethan’s call came through. I picked up. “Did you add Chloe?” His voice was freezing, laced with suppressed rage. “She added me.” “What did you say to her?” “None of your business.” “Sienna.” He took a deep breath. “I asked her to reach out and explain things to you. Don’t take your anger out on her.” He asked her to explain things to me. He had his ex-girlfriend explain to his current girlfriend that he wasn’t secretly yearning for her. “Do you honestly think that makes any sense?” “If you won’t listen to me, you have to listen to someone else, right?” “So in your mind, I’m always the one who needs to be managed and convinced.” “You’re already being unreasonable—” “Fine,” I interrupted. “Then let Chloe keep trying to convince me. Let’s see how far she gets.” I hung up. He called back immediately. I declined. Third time, fourth time. By the fifth time, I turned off my phone. The wind on the balcony stopped, and the clouds hung incredibly low. The leaves of the rose bushes drooped slightly, but their roots were firmly planted. I turned my phone back on. A message from Harper popped up: “Should I bring red wine or champagne to the housewarming party tomorrow?” “Red wine.” Another text followed: “Are we posting pictures on Instagram?” I thought about it for a second and replied, “Whatever you want.” She immediately sent a voice note, her voice bursting with sheer delight. “Oh, I’m not holding back then. Sienna, that south-facing balcony of yours with the rose racks is going to keep him staring at his Instagram feed for three straight days.”

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When I brought my third boyfriend, Tyler, home to meet my mother, I repeatedly warned him not to eat her homemade macaroni. But he just ruffled my hair, smiling dismissively. “Maybe the first two guys were just a coincidence, Chloe? Don’t overthink it. We don’t want to hurt your mom’s feelings.” A few minutes later, sitting at the dining table, he ignored my frantic eye signals and took a huge bite of the macaroni. My chest tightened. I silently began to count down in my head. “Three. Two. One.” Right on cue, Tyler’s face contorted into pure terror. He slammed his chair back and bolted out of the front door. He ran straight onto the busy road outside. Before the oncoming semi-truck could slam on its brakes, the tires screeched, crushing him instantly under the chassis. My body went numb. I collapsed onto the asphalt, screaming and crying hysterically. The bright afternoon sun beat down on me, yet I felt an icy, piercing cold. Instinctively, I looked up at our balcony. My mother, Sarah, was standing there. She watched the bloody scene with cold, vacant eyes, as if the man who had just died was a complete stranger. Amidst the horrified murmurs of the gathering crowd, I lost my mind. I ran back upstairs, slammed the door, and screamed at her in despair. “What did you put in that macaroni?! Why do you hate my happiness so much?!” “Is it because Dad left you, so you can’t stand to see me with any man?!” Those were the toxic rumors whispered by the neighbors behind our backs. But at that moment, my mental stability had completely shattered. I didn’t care anymore. A flicker of something complex and unreadable crossed my mother’s eyes. “It has nothing to do with me,” she said flatly, before turning and locking herself in her bedroom. I clenched my fists. Outside, the neighbors were whispering on the sidewalk, filming our house for TikTok. Without another second of hesitation, I dialed 911. The police arrived with grave faces and escorted my mother out of the house. They took the leftover macaroni to the forensics lab for a full toxicology report. But the results only left me more confused. There was absolutely nothing in the macaroni. No poison, no chemicals, nothing. My mother sat in the interrogation room, facing the swarm of local reporters. No matter how hard they pressed, her only response was: “It has nothing to do with me.” The case became an internet sensation, shrouded in mystery. Once someone leaked the story on Reddit, our house was surrounded by hundreds of looky-loos every day. The online comment section became a breeding ground for wild theories. “What kind of macaroni makes you want to commit suicide after one bite?” “I’d pay good money for that recipe. Need to send some to my ex, seriously.” Inside the house, my mother and I were trapped, staring at each other. Looking at my bloodshot, tear-stained eyes, she sighed. “Why do you do this to yourself, Chloe? Do you really believe I murdered them?” “If not you, then who?! Nothing makes sense! The only common link is that damn bowl of macaroni!” “Mom, I’m begging you, just tell me the truth. Every time I close my eyes, I see Tyler’s mutilated face. I’m going insane…” I fell to my knees, my vision blurring with tears. My mother hadn’t always been like this. But after my seventeenth birthday, she became a completely different person. She stopped smiling, and she treated every boy who came near me with cold hostility. But I still couldn’t bring myself to believe that my own mother wanted me to suffer. Seeing me on the floor, she sighed with weary resignation. She went into her room, packed two large suitcases, and dragged them to the front door, throwing them at my feet. “If you distrust me this much, then leave.” “From this day on, pretend you don’t have a mother.”

I was kicked out. Devastated, I moved back into my college dorm. Even during the breaks, I applied for housing exemptions and stayed on campus. I didn’t go home for six months. My mother blocked my number. She never reached out to me, not even once. After graduation, I landed an internship at a marketing firm, where a guy named Ethan started pursuing me. He knew about my dark past, but he didn’t care. He wanted to protect me. A year later, we got engaged. In the days leading up to the engagement party, I couldn’t sleep, crippled by anxiety. But I kept reassuring myself: “I’m far away from my mother now. Nothing will go wrong this time. It can’t.” The party went beautifully. As the night wound down, the heavy weight in my chest finally began to lift. But during the final toast, Ethan playfully covered my eyes, whispering that he had a surprise for me. A sudden dread washed over me. When I opened my eyes, my mother was standing in front of me. Ethan nudged my nose gently. “I know you’ve been missing your mom. Since we only get married once, I invited her as a surprise.” Swallowing my fear, I looked at her. She had aged terribly over the past two years. Deep wrinkles carved her face. After all, she was the one who raised me. For a split second, a wave of heartbreaking nostalgia hit me. “Mom,” I choked out. But she didn’t even look at me. She pulled out a small container of macaroni and held it out to Ethan. Ethan and I exchanged a worried glance. He politely declined, and I let out a breath of relief. I stepped forward, trying to grab the container from her hands. “Mom, please don’t do this. Today is my engagement party, just let us…” Before I could finish, my mother suddenly went wild. She forced the container open and shoved a spoonful of the macaroni into Ethan’s mouth. Ethan swallowed it reflexively. Instantly, his face went pale, and his eyes filled with absolute, primal terror. The next second, he violently shattered the glass window of the venue and leaped from the eighth floor. My fiancé died right before my eyes. The venue erupted into pure chaos. Ethan’s hysterical parents grabbed my mother by her throat, screaming for her life. “My son did nothing to you! Why did you kill him?!” “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you myself!” My mother fainted from the assault, and the angry crowd turned their wrath on me. “I heard about her! Everyone she dates dies! She’s a cursed witch!” “Make her eat the macaroni! Make her eat it!” My heart was already dead. Without waiting for them to force me, I grabbed the fallen container and stuffed the remaining macaroni into my mouth. I didn’t care if I died. I just wanted an answer. But ten minutes passed, and I felt completely normal. The police arrived and took both my mother and me back to the precinct. “It’s you two again,” Detective Vance said, rubbing his temples in frustration. “What is in this food?” Baffled, the police formed a special task force. They even flew in an occult expert from New Orleans, a specialist in dark voodoo and curses, to inspect the macaroni. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with this food,” the expert concluded, sighing. Once again, the investigation hit a dead end. An older, dedicated detective on the force decided to take a risk and ate a portion of the macaroni himself. The other officers held him back, terrified he would jump out a window. But just like me, the detective suffered no ill effects whatsoever. With no physical evidence, the police had no choice but to release my mother. Ethan’s family looked at me with venomous hatred. “Just promise me you’ll never date anyone again, you monster,” his mother wept. “Stay away from innocent people.” With nowhere else to go, I had no choice but to follow my mother back to her house.

After the incident, the “Macaroni Curse” blew up on TikTok and Reddit again. “That’s the fourth victim. What kind of dark magic is this?” “I’m done making jokes. The daughter must be living in a horror movie, watching her fiancé die like that.” Netizens began analyzing the lives of my four exes, trying to find some common flaw—infidelity, hidden crimes—to justify their deaths. But only I knew the truth. None of them were bad guys. I mindlessly scrolled through the comments, my mind filled with memories of Ethan. College had been so hard, but Ethan was always there, saving me from my own darkness. He was kind, compassionate, and never raised his voice at anyone. He was such a good man. We were one step away from our happy ending. Why did my mother have to destroy it? I locked myself in my room, refusing to eat or drink. The next morning, my mother knocked on my door. “How long are you going to throw this tantrum? Are you trying to kill yourself to punish me?” Her brow was furrowed with deep concern, looking exactly like the loving mother she used to be. But I knew it was an illusion. “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I just can’t eat,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Just tell me what’s in the macaroni. Why is everyone else fine, but my boyfriends always…” My voice faded into quiet sobs. My mother’s expression softened into something incredibly complex. “I told you, their deaths have nothing to do with me. I’m not hiding anything from you. Even the police found nothing, didn’t they?” Since the incident, the police had placed our house under constant surveillance. But there was indeed no evidence connecting her to any crime. “Then what is happening?!” I screamed in agony. “Am I just not allowed to be loved? Is that it?!” “Anyone who truly loves you is cursed,” my mother sighed. “Next week is your twenty-third birthday. You’ll get your answers then.” “So stop starving yourself. I need you to survive until that day.” I snapped my head up, a glimmer of hope returning to my eyes. “Really?” “Yes. The macaroni is on the table. Go eat.” She gave me one long, deep look before turning away. Watching her walk away, I noticed how hunched and frail her back had become. I felt a pang of pity, but I quickly shook it off. My soft-heartedness was the very weapon that killed the people I loved. Sitting at the table, I choked down her famous cheese macaroni, tasting nothing but my own tears. Ethan’s death had nearly broken me. I had thought about ending it all. But a small, persistent voice in my head kept telling me there was more to this story. Before Ethan jumped, he had turned and looked at me. There was no fear of being controlled in his eyes. Only a deep, agonizing sorrow of leaving me behind. Could it be… he did it willingly? I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I finished the food and went back to my room to piece the puzzle together. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Detective Vance. “Any new leads? You’re living with her, you need to be extremely careful.” We had become close over the years due to the recurring cases. I typed back: “No leads yet. But she said she’s throwing me a birthday party next week. She promised to explain everything.” Detective Vance sent back a series of urgent voice notes. “This could be our breakthrough. Chloe, I need you to install a hidden camera in your living room. We’re going to catch her in the act and end this once and for all.” I agreed. The next day, I discreetly set up a hidden camera in the living room corner. For the next week, I acted completely normal around my mother. She seemed to have reverted to her old self, though she spent most of her time just staring at me in silence. Whenever I asked what she was thinking, she would turn away. Finally, my birthday arrived. She baked a cake and lit twenty-three candles. I took a bite and forced a smile. “Thanks, Mom. It’s sweet.” But when I leaned in to blow out the candles, my mother suddenly grabbed my wrist. Her face was contorted in pain. “I need to tell you about your father.” I froze. For as long as I could remember, we had been a single-parent household. Whenever I asked about my dad as a kid, she would shut down. Did my father’s death have something to do with Ethan and the others? “I know the neighbors say I cursed your father to death,” my mother began, her voice trembling. “But that’s a lie. I killed him myself.” “He had partnered with some dangerous people. He wanted to sell you off to pay his debts. I had to stop him.” “Since that day, I vowed never to trust another man.” I sat there, paralyzed by a cold, nightmare-like dread. “Even if that’s true, Mom… that doesn’t justify murdering my four boyfriends!” My mother ignored my outburst and continued, “You’re twenty-three now. You’re an adult. You don’t need me to worry about you anymore.” “Even when I’m gone, you have to survive. Remember, your life doesn’t just belong to you.” “Mom, what are you talking about?” I asked, thoroughly confused. Suddenly, her face went blank, as if a switch had been flipped. She violently shoved me into my bedroom and locked the door from the outside. “No matter what you hear out there, do not open this door!”

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Ever since we were kids, my sister, Chloe, loved stealing my things. From a tiny hairclip to our parents’ love. Today, she caught me holding hands with Julian Vance, the school’s golden boy, in the secluded pathway behind the campus library. That night, in my bedroom, Chloe squinted her eyes and asked: “Elena, are you secretly dating Julian? He’s gorgeous.” “Don’t tell Mom and Dad,” I said, anxiously clutching the hem of my shirt. “And don’t even think about stealing him!” Chloe smirked. “Why would I steal him from you?” Seeing her determined look, I secretly let out a sigh of relief. Finally. I could dump this abusive, psychopathic monster onto her. …… My nightmare started three months ago. Julian confessed his love to me in front of the entire school. Roses and balloons filled the football field. He was the golden boy, the male lead in every girl’s dream. I became the “lucky girl” everyone envied. But no one knew that once the doors were closed, his gentleness was a complete lie. In an empty corner of the library, his fingers brushed against my cheek, but his grip was so tight my jaw ached. “Babe, how many words did you say to that guy today? Hmm?” “I… I just asked him about the homework,” I stammered, trembling with fear. He smiled warmly. But in the next second, he suddenly grabbed my throat and slammed me hard against the wall. “Did I ever tell you that I hate it when other guys look at my things?” As suffocating pain kicked in, I stared into his crazed, obsessed eyes, desperately clawing at his arm. Just when I thought I was going to die, he suddenly let go. He lifted my chin and wiped away my tears with his thumb. “Elena, don’t be scared. I just love you too much.” He leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Be a good girl. Stay away from all other guys, and I won’t get mad.” At that moment, I wanted to run. But I couldn’t escape. But Chloe moved even faster than I expected. At dinner, she twirled her pasta on her fork and brought it up as if it were nothing. “Mom, I think Elena has been acting weird lately.” “She’s always sneaking into her room to make FaceTime calls. I don’t know who she’s talking to, but she has this super sweet smile on her face.” Mom froze, immediately turning her sharp gaze toward me. “Elena, are you dating someone?” My chest tightened. I purposely lowered my head, acting flustered. “No, don’t talk nonsense.” The more I “resisted,” the more certain Mom became. Chloe smirked, throwing more fuel on the fire. “I’ve seen the guy. It’s Julian Vance, right? He’s incredibly hot, and his family is filthy rich! The girls chasing him could line up from the school gates to the West End.” “Really?” Mom’s eyes instantly lit up. That night, Chloe sneaked into my bedroom. She climbed onto my bed and leaned close to my ear, her voice buzzing with excitement. “Elena, your boyfriend is so wild. I saw you guys today.” She squinted like a cat that had just stolen some cream. “He looks way better than those losers chasing me.” “He… he’s mine,” I said, clutching my shirt tightly. “Don’t you dare try to take him!” “Why would I steal him from you?” She laughed, her expression innocent yet wicked. “I just think such a good catch is totally wasted on you.” Looking at her determined face, I secretly sighed in relief. Perfect. The fish had finally bitten the bait.

The next morning, before I could even leave the house, Mom blocked my way. “Give me your phone!” she snapped, demanding. “No! This is my privacy!” I immediately hugged my phone to my chest, putting up a dramatic struggle. The more I “resisted,” the more aggressive she became. My bedroom was instantly turned into a mess. Books were knocked to the floor, and my desk lamp was tipped over. Like a madwoman, she snatched the phone from my hand. I “frantically” tried to lock the screen, but “accidentally” let her see the Snapchat chat history between Julian and me. Mom opened it without a second thought. Those chat logs were carefully fabricated by me over two whole days. Every sentence was a sickeningly sweet promise of love. [Babe, I dreamed of you again last night.] [I want to buy you the whole world.] There were even screenshots of Julian sending me “money gifts”—each one over ten thousand dollars. Of course, I didn’t mention a single word about how he made me transfer the money right back to him under various excuses. Chloe leaned in to watch the drama, her eyes practically sparkling. “Wow, Elena, your boyfriend is so romantic and generous!” she said, raising her voice on purpose. “He’s so much better than that guy who chased me last month. That loser bought me a designer bag and complained about the price for weeks.” Mom’s finger stopped scrolling. She saw Julian’s incredibly wealthy background, which I had “carelessly” revealed in the chats. [Babe, my parents are flying to Europe next week for a business deal. I’ll be home alone. It’s so boring.] [My dad gave me another card today for pocket money. The PIN is your birthday.] The anger on Mom’s face vanished instantly. She pulled me out of the room and whispered a warning: “Keep this quiet for now. Your dad and I need to look into this boy.” She paused, then added as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “If he’s really that good, we can’t let your sister miss out on this.” I stood there, my eyes instantly welling up with tears. Even though I had expected this, hearing it out loud still felt like a stab to my heart. “Why?!” I screamed with all my might, my voice breaking into a sob. “Mom, ever since we were kids, you guys always took her side! Toys, new clothes, your love… and now you want to steal the only boyfriend I’ve ever had?!” The harder I cried, the more desperate I seemed, the more it proved that Julian was a priceless treasure. Mom was taken aback by my scream, but then disgust washed over her face. “Stop screaming! He’s just a man! Is he worth all this drama?” “Your sister is prettier than you, sweeter than you, and everyone loves her. What’s wrong with her getting a good man?” “If you really cared about your sister, you would step aside! Act like an older sister for once!” Her words were like a poisoned blade, stabbing right into the softest part of my heart. I covered my face, ran back to my room, and locked the door. Outside, Mom was still cursing. “What an ungrateful brat. We raised her for so many years, and she doesn’t care about this family at all.” “Exactly. If Chloe can marry into the Vance family, we’ll all be set for life. She’s so selfish, only thinking about herself.” That was Dad’s voice. Listening to those cold words, the tears on my face slowly dried up. I looked up at my red, swollen eyes in the mirror. Excellent, Elena. Your acting is getting better and better. That evening, I purposely left one of Julian’s jackets on the living room sofa. It smelled of his favorite woody cologne. Sure enough, when the house was dead silent in the middle of the night, Chloe crept out of her room, picked up the jacket, and took a deep, greedy breath. Then, she put it on, ran to the full-length mirror, and posed. Next, she took out her phone, opened her secret Instagram account—the one she used to bait guys—and posted a few selfies. The caption read: “I love this scent so much. It feels like a warm hug~ [blushing emoji]” Lying in bed, I saw her post and silently gave it a like. My dear sister, with every step you take toward the abyss, I will be right here to document it for you.

The Instagram post quickly caused a stir. The next day, as soon as I got to school, my wrist was violently grabbed. Julian dragged me into a deserted corner behind the science building. His face was dark enough to kill. “I don’t like other people touching things I gave you. Do you understand?” He pinned me against the wall, his eyes predatory. I immediately played the terrified victim, tears pooling in my eyes. “No, it’s not what you think!” I sobbed, explaining that the jacket had just been washed and left out, and my sister had taken it without asking. I said she was just young and loved to show off, begging him not to be angry. My submission and terror deeply satisfied Julian’s sick need for control. His expression softened slightly, and he ran a hand through my hair. “Keep an eye on your sister next time.” I nodded quickly. Taking the opportunity, I “carelessly” dropped a hint. “Chloe… she’s just spoiled by our parents. She’s loved stealing my things since we were kids.” “Yesterday she even asked me if you were really that nice to me. She said she’d never met a guy as handsome and classy as you.” I watched Julian’s expression closely as I spoke. As expected, a flash of smug satisfaction crossed his eyes. No man can resist the adoration of a beautiful girl, especially an arrogant psychopath like Julian. And Chloe was gorgeous, popular, and always surrounded by guys at school. Conquering her would satisfy his vanity far more than conquering a plain “Cinderella” like me. “Oh, really?” He raised an eyebrow. “Your sister… has good taste.” From that day on, Chloe began her move. She always managed to “coincidentally” cross paths with Julian. Sometimes she was buying coffee at the campus cafe, other times she was checking out books in the library. She would hold up my photo and ask passing students: “Have you guys seen my sister? Her boyfriend is looking for her.” Every time, she was dressed to perfection—innocent yet alluring. And I would always “coincidentally” show up right during these encounters. Then, I would play the jealous, angry girlfriend. “Chloe! What are you doing here again?!” I would yell, drawing a crowd. “Elena, I was just trying to help you find Julian,” she would blink innocently. “Why are you so petty? You get mad just because I say a word to him.” Our public arguments made this “love triangle” look incredibly real. On the school forum, threads about the three of us spread like wildfire. [Drama! Golden boy Julian Vance caught in a sister showdown!] [Honestly, Chloe is a much better match. Elena is so dramatic and always looks miserable.] [Agreed! Chloe is hot and fun. Who wouldn’t prefer her?] Public opinion completely sided with Chloe. And my parents’ attitude began to change too. They stopped yelling at me and switched to a more disgusting form of emotional manipulation. “Chloe is so sweet, trying to help you keep your relationship. And look at you, always throwing tantrums,” Mom said at dinner, deliberately avoiding putting food on my plate. “Julian’s family is so wealthy. You better cherish him and stop acting like a spoiled brat before you drive him away.” “Exactly. Don’t think you’re special just because you have a boyfriend,” Dad set his fork down, his voice stern. “He has great prospects. You should be more open-minded and let your sister hang out with you guys to see the world.” Their words became more and more shameless, constantly hinting that I wasn’t good enough for Julian and should step aside. On the outside, I wept as if my heart was breaking, but inside, I was laughing. Everything was going exactly according to my script. A week later, my greedy mother finally couldn’t sit still anymore. She suggested hosting a dinner party at our house over the weekend to “officially” meet Julian. She said, “You can’t keep hiding your boyfriend. Your family needs to check him out for you.” I knew very well that the star of this “evaluation” wouldn’t be me. It would be Chloe. Oh, I had been looking forward to this dinner for a very long time.

On the day of the dinner, Mom dragged me out of bed early and threw a white dress at me. It was a rare, “generous” birthday gift she had given me last month. But when I turned around, I saw Chloe walking out of her room in the exact same dress. Except hers was made of finer material, with a sparkling diamond chain wrapped around her waist. “Mom, if Elena and I wear the same thing, will Julian get us confused?” Chloe twirled playfully. Mom looked at her with pride, grinning from ear to ear. “Of course not! Our Chloe is so beautiful, no one can compare to her.” I stood there like a ghost in the background. Julian arrived in the afternoon, bringing many expensive gifts. He gave Dad a thousand-dollar bottle of wine, Mom the latest designer handbag, and Chloe a necklace that looked incredibly expensive. For me, he only brought a box of chocolates. He hadn’t even fully peeled off the discount price tag. “Elena doesn’t care about these luxury things. She just likes sweets,” Julian explained with a warm smile. How thoughtful. But he didn’t mention that the box of chocolates was bought last-minute from the convenience store downstairs. At the dining table, the atmosphere was so warm that it felt like I was the stranger. Mom had made a seafood soup—something I had been severely allergic to since childhood. “Here, Julian, have some more. I got this lobster imported. It’s great for your health,” she enthusiastically served him a large bowl. Dad opened the wine Julian brought and kept offering toasts, praising him to the skies. “Chloe, put some steak on Julian’s plate,” Mom smiled warmly. “Julian, try this ribeye. Chloe made it. She’s a fantastic cook,” Dad added, desperately trying to create a spark. Chloe blushed, shyly placing the meat into Julian’s bowl. “Julian, try it.” “Thank you, Chloe,” Julian smiled warmly, but his eyes drifted over to me. “But I’m still more used to Elena taking care of me.” Saying that, he put a piece of fish into my bowl, slowly removing the bones before placing it right by my mouth. “Right, babe?” his voice was gentle, but his eyes carried a dark warning. At that moment, both Mom and Chloe’s faces stiffened. A sick sense of pleasure rose in my chest. I obediently opened my mouth and ate the fish. “Julian is always the nicest to me,” I murmured. Chloe reacted instantly. Her eyes welled with tears, looking incredibly fragile. “Julian, do you think I didn’t do a good job? I’m sorry… I was just so envious of Elena, and I wanted to do something for you too.” Her weak, pitiful act immediately triggered Julian’s savior complex. He smiled and patted the back of her hand, his voice full of affection. “Of course not. You’re actually much more attentive than your sister.” That compliment was like a slap to my face. Mom immediately gave me a smug look. I lowered my head, clenching my fists. After dinner, Chloe brought over a fruit platter. Suddenly, she tripped and “accidentally” spilled a whole glass of orange juice all over Julian’s white shirt. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! Julian, I didn’t mean to!” She frantically wiped it with a napkin, her hands brushing against his chest on purpose. “Let me take you to my room to clean it up. I have a hairdryer there,” she said urgently. I sat on the sofa, watching them go upstairs one after the other. I deliberately lingered in the living room for a few minutes, listening to Mom’s sarcastic remarks. “Look at how charming your sister is! You should learn a thing or two!” “If you don’t have the skills, don’t blame others for stealing your spotlight,” Dad chimed in. I stood up abruptly, rushing toward Chloe’s room in a fit of “rage.” I didn’t knock. I slammed the half-open door wide open. The scene inside made my breath hitch. Chloe was on her tiptoes, her lips almost brushing against Julian’s cheek. And Julian’s hands were resting on her waist, holding her in an intimate, suggestive embrace. Hearing the door slam, they quickly pulled apart, looking startled. “What are you doing?!” I screamed, my voice shaking violently. Chloe stepped back “in a panic,” her face flushed. “Elena, let me explain… it’s not what it looks like…” “Elena, what is wrong with you?” Julian frowned, his voice dripping with annoyance. Looking at their expressions—one playing innocent, the other looking disgusted—the anger I had bottled up for months completely “exploded.” I broke down into hysterical tears, slammed the door, and ran out. My heart-wrenching sobs and messy footsteps echoed down the hallway. I ran all the way to the street corner. Only after confirming no one was following me did I slowly stop. I took a deep breath, looked up at the city lights, and a cold smile crept onto my face. Dad, Mom, Chloe, Julian… Your little drama has finally begun.

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On my ninety-ninth night with Leo Vance, he was as wild as ever, holding me so tight it felt like he never wanted to let go. He once told me that physical attraction is far more stable than emotional love. And I had always believed we had an unspoken understanding. Until I overheard him talking to his friends. “Maya is just my executive assistant,” Leo said, his voice casually amused. “But I have to admit, she’s incredible in bed.” “Double the service for one paycheck. Pretty good deal, right?” Then, one of his friends mentioned a name: Chloe. The moment he heard that name, Leo’s voice softened instantly. “Chloe is different. I couldn’t bear to ruin her.” At that moment, the illusion I had built for myself shattered. My hand froze on the doorknob. Instead of entering, I pulled out my phone and called the overseas headhunter who had been trying to recruit me for months. “Are you still looking to hire me?” The voice on the other end responded almost instantly. “Perfect. My flight leaves tomorrow night. Come with me.” “I’ll send a car to pick you up tomorrow evening.” After hanging up, I looked through the glass door at Leo inside the VIP lounge. He was sitting in the center of the leather sofa, a tender look in his eyes that only appeared when he heard that name. The rowdy laughter of the men around him continued. “Our Mr. Vance sure has charm. Maya is the most famous PR strategist in the industry, yet she willingly stays by his side just playing assistant.” “She looks like such an untouchable ice queen. I bet she’s amazing in private, huh?” The men laughed and winked. Leo didn’t even try to stop them. In fact, a smug smirk played on his lips. I took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and walked in. After all, on paper, I was still his assistant. I had a job to finish. The moment I stepped inside, the suggestive tension in the air didn’t fade. The men’s teasing eyes locked onto me. “Oh, Maya’s here! Perfect. Mr. Vance can’t drink anymore. Maya is always his savior at these dinners, isn’t she?” “Exactly. Hey, Maya, do you have any friends like you? Introduce them to us.” “Someone who can handle the business, take the drinks, and… satisfy other needs.” They traded dirty looks, their faces full of disrespect and amusement. Leo jokingly punched the guy closest to him. “Alright, that’s enough. Can’t the expensive wine shut your mouths?” After saying that, Leo waved me over, gesturing for me to sit next to him. As soon as I sat down, Leo handed me a glass with a smile. “These guys are just playing around. They don’t mean any harm. Don’t take it personally.” I didn’t say a word. I tilted my head back and drank the alcohol in one gulp. Suddenly, the door was pushed open. A girl wearing a white woolen coat and a pink beanie stumbled in, her innocent eyes filled with panic. The second she walked in, Leo bolted upright and rushed to her. “Chloe? What are you doing here?” “This place is too chaotic. Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at home?” Chloe? So this was the Chloe they were talking about. Chloe looked up, her eyes watery and incredibly helpless. “I waited for so long and you didn’t show up. I was worried.” “Your stomach is bad. I didn’t want you to drink too much.” Leo seemed deeply touched by her words. His dark, cold eyes softened completely. The men in the lounge started whistling. “Oh, so this is the ‘Chloe’ our Mr. Vance always talks about? Hey, beautiful, want to join us for a drink?” Before the man could finish his sentence, Leo turned around and smashed his glass on the floor. “Shut your damn mouth. Chloe is not the kind of woman you joke about.”

Not the kind of woman? Just moments ago, his friends had said things to me that were ten times worse, and Leo had laughed it off. But now, Leo flew into a rage over a harmless joke because Chloe wasn’t “that kind of woman.” If their conversation earlier had torn my heart open, Leo’s reaction now was like digging a giant hole in my chest, letting the freezing wind howl through. My hands and feet went numb. I closed my eyes, forcing down the bitterness in my throat. A little over a year ago, Leo’s company was facing a massive financial crisis. As a top-tier crisis strategist from Wall Street, Leo hired me with a massive contract for six months. In just three months, I brought his group back from the dead. But our rapid rise pissed off the wrong people. A disgruntled rival hired professional hitmen to ambush us in an underground parking lot. During the chaos, I threw myself in front of Leo, taking a bullet that was meant to end his life. Fortunately, the bullet missed my heart by an inch. I survived. When I woke up, Leo was sitting by my hospital bed, his eyes bloodshot, his voice cracking with emotion. “You didn’t even hesitate to jump in front of me. Did you face stuff like this back in New York?” “Maya, it breaks my heart. Stay with me, okay?” Maybe it was the way he whispered my name, or maybe the tenderness in his eyes was too intoxicating. At that moment, I fell for him. Like an idiot, I nodded. From that day on, everything changed. On the surface, I was still his executive assistant. But he spent almost every night in my bed. We were wild, passionate, doing everything real couples do. I thought it was love. When I opened my eyes, Leo had already left with Chloe. The people left in the room looked at me with either pity or ridicule. I ignored them, stood up, and walked out. I was leaving tomorrow. Once I got back to the apartment, I started packing my few belongings. This apartment was provided by Leo, and most of the things in it were bought by him. I didn’t have much of my own to take. As I was packing, the front door opened. I didn’t turn around. A moment later, a warm chest pressed against my back. A pair of rough hands slid under the hem of my shirt. Leo’s voice was raspy from the alcohol. “Why are you packing? Going somewhere? Is Hazel dragging you out on another trip?” Hazel was my only friend in the country. We occasionally went on weekend getaways. I stopped his hand from moving higher and turned around to look him straight in the eyes. Instead of answering, I asked the one question on my mind. “Leo, what are we?” Leo froze. His drunk eyes cleared up a bit. “Maya, is this about Chloe tonight? Are you upset?” I didn’t say a word. I let the silence speak for me. Leo let out a soft sigh and sat down on the sofa. When he looked up again, there was a hint of impatience in his eyes. “Maya, I thought we had an unspoken understanding about this.” “Chloe won’t affect us. Everything stays the same. Be a good girl, okay?” At that moment, I realized I had never truly known this man. I forced back the tears prickling my eyes. “I see.” Hearing my response, Leo visibly relaxed. He stood up, wanting to hug me. But sensing my coldness, he stepped back. “Whatever. Get some rest and clear your head. I’m leaving.” “I have a dinner with Mr. Sterling tomorrow afternoon. I’ll send a driver to pick you up. Just relax during the day.” After Leo left, all my strength drained away. My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, the tears finally pouring down my face. A while later, my phone buzzed. It was a Snap from Hazel. “What is wrong with Leo? Why did he post this on his Ins story?” I opened the screenshot Hazel sent. It was a photo Leo had just posted. It was a screenshot of a chat. The caption read: “Turns out, being cared for after drinking feels this good.” My tears fell onto the screen. With trembling fingers, I zoomed in on the chat.

Most of the message was blurred out, except for one line from the sender. “Your stomach is bad. I get so worried when you drink. If you do it again, I’m going to ignore you!” Looking at those childish words, Chloe’s innocent face flashed in my mind. I clicked on Leo’s profile. His Ins page was blank for me. Just a gray line. He had blocked me from seeing it. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Hazel’s messages kept spamming my phone. “Who is that in the screenshot? That’s not your profile picture!” “You’ve been with him for a year. What the hell is he doing?” “Has Leo lost his mind? Some basic, whiny text gets him so excited he has to show the whole world? Did he forget everything you’ve done for him?” “You’re his girlfriend!” Looking at the last message, I stared blankly for a second before typing back. “I’m just his assistant. We both got it wrong.” After that, Hazel didn’t send another text. The next morning, Hazel sent a driver to my place, insisting on taking me out for lunch. I checked the time. Leo’s dinner with Mr. Sterling was in the afternoon, and the driver wasn’t picking me up until evening. I had time. Hazel was my only friend. Since I was leaving, I needed to say a proper goodbye. After a night of crying, I had mostly made peace with my decision. But Hazel spent the entire drive to the restaurant cursing Leo out. Looking at her flushed, angry face, my heart felt a little warmer. We hung out at the mall after lunch until the evening, when Leo’s driver picked me up and took me to the private dining club. The moment I entered the VIP room, Leo smiled and waved at me. “Maya, you’re here. Come, sit.” From the second I walked in, Mr. Sterling’s slimy, greasy eyes crawled over my body like a snake. I pretended not to notice and sat down next to Leo. As soon as I sat down, Mr. Sterling spoke up. “Is this… Mr. Vance’s date?” “Mr. Vance, you really are young and successful. Every woman around you is more stunning than the last.” Mr. Sterling stood up, walked behind me, and casually rested his hand on my shoulder. Leo smiled, raising his glass to Mr. Sterling. “You flatter me, Mr. Sterling. When doing business, the women we bring must match our status.” “Since you like her, and she doesn’t have any pressing work tonight… once we sign the contract, she can stay and thoroughly discuss the resort development with you.” Hearing this, Mr. Sterling’s eyes lit up. The hand on my shoulder squeezed tighter. I had been to many of these dinners with Leo. But now I realized that in his eyes, I was just a highly capable assistant, a tool to charm clients, or maybe even a chip to be traded in business. But never his partner. Just then, a commotion broke out in the hallway outside. “Are you blind? Can’t you see me walking here?” Then came a girl’s frantic apology, her voice trembling and full of tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking…” Beside me, Leo’s face fell instantly. He bolted upright and rushed out of the room. The girl outside was Chloe. Her eyes were red, filled with tears that looked ready to spill over. The bloated, drunk businessman who had run into her realized she was a pretty, innocent young girl. He stepped closer, reeking of alcohol. “Oh, what a cute little thing.” “Don’t cry. I’m a reasonable guy. But you bumped into me, and it hurt. A simple apology won’t cut it. My private room is right next door…”

Before the man could finish, Leo’s fist smashed into his face. He pulled the sobbing Chloe behind his back. The drunk man was caught off guard and took the blow head-on. Once he steadied himself, furious, he grabbed a glass bottle from a nearby cart and hurled it straight at Leo. Out of professional instinct, I rushed forward, throwing myself in front of Leo and Chloe. Smash! The bottle shattered heavily against my forearm, which I had raised to shield them. The glass exploded. Red wine and blood splattered all over my clothes, and blood began to drip rapidly onto the floor. People from the neighboring rooms came out to see the commotion. When they recognized Leo, their faces turned pale. “Mr. Vance… Mr. Vance… What are you doing here?” The drunk man was still shouting. “Who the hell do you think you are, hitting me! Do you know who I am? I’m with Miller Corp…” Before he could finish, his associate grabbed him, bowing frantically to Leo. “Mr. Vance, Mr. Vance, he’s drunk. Please don’t mind him. Please show mercy…” I looked at Leo. He was staring at the terrified Chloe with pure heartbreak. He didn’t look at me for a single second. Hearing the associate’s apology, Leo’s eyes turned icy. “Miller Corp? Got it.” Chloe clutched Leo’s sleeve, looking pitiful. “Leo, I’m scared. Let’s go.” Without hesitation, Leo scooped Chloe up in his arms and carried her toward the private lounge. Before leaving, he seemed to suddenly remember I existed. “Clean yourself up in the restroom. Once you’re done, go back and take care of Mr. Sterling.” “Don’t keep him waiting. This contract is highly important.” I looked down at my dripping, bloody arm. A cold, bitter feeling washed over me. When Mr. Sterling put his slimy hands on me, Leo looked away and even offered me up as a bargaining chip. But when Chloe was merely teased, the always-rational Leo lost his mind and started a fistfight. The difference between love and convenience was loud and clear. When I walked out of the restroom and passed the private lounge, the door was slightly ajar. A suggestive, breathless sound drifted out. The woman was panting, her voice sweet and whiny. “You say you love me, but why won’t you take me to these dinners? Am I too embarrassing to be seen with?” The man’s voice was deep, thick with desire. “The men at these dinners are beasts. You’re too pure. I couldn’t bear to let you near a place like this.” “I want to protect you from the world. I’d never let you get hurt.” The girl giggled, teasing him. “Don’t be so eager. Your assistant is still cleaning up in the restroom. She might be right next door.” The man didn’t slow down, clearly pleased by her reaction. “I love you so much. You always surprise me.” “Don’t worry. The walls in these VIP rooms are soundproof. I closed the door. She won’t hear a thing.” As Leo spoke, Chloe, who was beneath him, shifted her gaze. Her eyes met mine through the crack in the door. At that moment, everything clicked. Leo thought he had closed the door, but it was wide open. Her showing up here, and this entire performance, was all Chloe’s doing. I smiled, withdrew my gaze, and quietly pushed the door shut for them. As the lock clicked, my phone rang. It was my contact. “Maya, change of plans. The private jet has landed.” “We need to leave immediately. I’m coming to pick you up now.” I sent him my location and quickly walked out of the club, never returning to Mr. Sterling’s room. If the plans had changed, it was fate. Leo, goodbye forever.

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On the day I got laid off, I called my boyfriend, Liam. He never picked up. Soaked from the rain, I pushed open the front door of our apartment, shivering as I clutched the cardboard box of my belongings. Inside, the place was packed. Loud music blasted, and to my shock, my parents, my relatives, and all of our friends were there. In the center of the crowd stood Liam and my best friend, Chloe, dressed in a tuxedo and a white bridal gown, throwing a massive wedding party. The box slipped from my hands, crashing to the floor. Liam walked over to me, his expression chillingly calm. “What are you doing here?” I stared at him, my voice shaking. “What is this?” His eyes flickered with a brief flash of guilt, but he just sighed. “Chloe and I got legally married last year. Today is just the reception.” Without thinking, I slapped him hard across the face. “Get out. All of you, get the hell out. This is my apartment.” I screamed. The next moment, our mutual friends shoved me back. “How could you hit him like that?” “Seriously. We only kept it from you because we didn’t want you to be devastated. Liam would have broken up with you ages ago anyway.” Amidst the chaos, my parents stepped forward, looking at me with deep disappointment. “Elena, this apartment isn’t yours,” my dad said. “Your mother and I bought it, and we’ve already gifted it to Chloe as a wedding present.” “Today is their big day,” my mom added. “Don’t make a scene. Just go to your room.” I stood by the doorway, laughing through my tears. It was so absurd. Five years of dating. Three years of living together. My boyfriend had become my best friend’s husband. My own parents secretly bought them our home as a wedding gift. And all of my friends had been happily keeping the secret. Right now, I was nothing but a joke.

When they shoved me into the bedroom, my knee slammed hard against the bed frame. Before I could even stand up, the door slammed shut in my face. I froze. The noise outside dimmed for a second, then the party started up again, even louder than before. I was locked in that room from noon until total darkness fell. No one came to open the door. No one even checked on me. I screamed until my throat was completely raw. In the end, I could only slide down against the door, listening to the party noises slowly fade away. But my mind only grew sharper and clearer. When the house finally went completely quiet, the door opened. I pulled myself up using the bedpost. My legs were completely numb. My parents walked in first, followed by Liam and Chloe. My mom’s eyes were red, looking as if she were the one suffering. “Elena, honey… look. You and Liam did those fertility tests before, right?” “We saw the portal report. The doctor said… it might be very hard for you to ever have children.” My entire body went rigid. We had done those tests right before Liam and I were planning to get married. But I never got my hands on the results. Liam said he would handle the portal access, and I hadn’t thought much of it. It turned out I didn’t need to think. Everyone had already made the decisions for me. I looked at Liam. “You knew all along?” He kept his head down, refusing to meet my eyes. My dad spoke up. “Liam is an only child. This kind of issue would have ruined your marriage eventually. If you two broke up normally, could you even handle the heartbreak?” My mom immediately chimed in. “So, your dad and I talked it over. We figured it was best to let Chloe and Liam get married first and have a baby. Once that’s done, you can come back. We can all live together and get through this.” My brain exploded. My lips trembled, and it took me forever to force out a single sentence. “Have you all lost your minds?” Chloe took a step forward. Her eyes were watery, her voice soft and fragile. “Elena, everyone is just really worried about you. I’ve been alone for so many years, and I’ve always seen you guys as my family. If I can help you keep Liam, I’m willing to do it.” She finished speaking and gently placed her hand on her flat stomach. “Besides, I’m already pregnant.” I stared at her stomach, a wave of intense nausea hitting my throat. I slowly turned to Liam. “And you agreed to this?” He stayed dead silent. My vision went dark. My chest felt so tight I couldn’t breathe. The next second, I collapsed onto the floor. When I woke up, the room was pitch black. I fumbled around for my phone. The moment the screen lit up, notifications flooded in. Missed calls, messages from former coworkers, and over a hundred unread alerts in our group chat on Snapchat. I tapped into it. At first, some people were asking why Liam had suddenly married Chloe. But then, the tone shifted. Someone wrote, “Oh my god, my favorite ship actually became canon!” “Right? Chloe is so sweet and gentle. Elena has such a bad temper and is always so dramatic. No guy could stand her.” I scrolled down and saw another message. “Remember when Liam worked overtime until midnight, and she still forced him to drive across town to get her takeout? So annoying. Total spoiled princess.” “Exactly. She deserved to get dumped.” I stared at those words, my hands turning ice-cold. On that night, Liam had been the one who insisted on buying me food, telling me to just name what I wanted. I had even told him to forget it because it was too late. He had laughed and told me it was fine. But in everyone else’s mouths, it became proof of my selfishness. With my heart squeezing painfully, I instinctively typed a message into the Snapchat group. “You all knew about this?” The chat went dead silent for a second. The next second, a notification popped up: You have been removed from the group. They didn’t even bother to give me an explanation. I sat on the edge of the bed and let out a soft, hollow laugh. It wasn’t just my parents. It wasn’t just Liam. My friends, my coworkers. Everyone had been lying to me. I stood up and started packing. I didn’t want to stay in this place for another single minute.

When I dragged my suitcase out, the living room was still decorated with white drapes and fresh flowers. Unfinished wedding favor boxes were scattered on the table, and Chloe’s jacket was tossed casually over the sofa. It was as if they couldn’t wait to make this place their new home. As I was packing, I suddenly noticed the birdcage by the window was empty. I froze. “Where is my pet bird?” My mom was clearing the table outside. She didn’t even look up. “Chloe said keeping him locked up was too cruel, so she let him go.” The clothes in my hands dropped right back into the suitcase. “She let him go?” Chloe, sitting on the sofa, said softly, “I was just doing what was best for him. It’s so sad to keep him in a cage. Isn’t freedom better?” I spun around to face her, my voice shaking violently. “He is a domesticated parrot. He can’t survive in the wild!” She flinched as if I had terrified her, her hands immediately guarding her stomach. “How was I supposed to know? I was just trying to be nice.” “Nice?” I glared at her. “I raised that bird for years.” I turned to my parents. “That was the birthday present you gave me. And you just let her release him?” My dad frowned, completely dismissing it. “It’s just a bird. It’s gone. If you want another one, we’ll buy you a new one later.” Buy me a new one. I stood there, suddenly finding myself completely speechless. I went back to packing in silence. Seeing that I was actually leaving, my mom finally got anxious. “Stop acting out, Elena! You just lost your job. Where are you going to go by yourself? We did all of this for your own future!” I picked up my suitcase and looked at her. “If this is your idea of doing what’s best for me, then you should have never given birth to me in the first place.” I turned and walked toward the door. My dad’s booming voice echoed from behind. “Elena Vance, if you walk out that door today, don’t you dare ever come back!” I didn’t stop. Just as I reached the door, Liam finally spoke. “It’s still pouring outside. Don’t do anything reckless.” I looked back at him. “Liam, don’t ever speak to me again.” His face turned incredibly pale. I carried my box down the stairs, the cardboard cutting painfully into my arms. I ended up checking into a cheap, run-down motel. The room was tiny. The window wouldn’t close properly, rattling loudly every time the night wind blew. I barely slept that night. I had lost my job, my home, and my boyfriend. My best friend was now his wife, my parents were on their side, and even my friends were laughing at me behind my back. But the moment the sun rose, I forced myself up to start sending out resumes. I had to survive. I used to be a top performer at my old company. I thought that no matter how unlucky I was, I could at least find a decent job. But reality was much harsher than I expected. At the first company, the interview went amazingly well, but they suddenly called back to say the position had been filled. At the second company, I went in person, but after the interviewer took a quick phone call, their attitude turned cold. The third company was even more direct. They didn’t even let me past the lobby. After getting rejected repeatedly, I finally realized something was wrong. After getting rejected repeatedly, I finally realized something was wrong. It wasn’t until I was standing outside a restroom at an office building that I overheard two girls whispering inside. “Yeah, that’s her. Vivian said she got fired from her last job for being a homewrecker.” “I heard she tried to steal someone’s husband. Who would dare hire a person like that?” I stood frozen, my blood running cold. My cousin Vivian worked at my old company. And she had been at the wedding reception that day. I immediately took an Uber straight to my old office. The moment I walked in, I noticed everyone stealing glances at me. Some quickly pretended to be busy, while others whispered near the breakroom. I walked straight up to Vivian’s desk. “Are you the one spreading those rumors about me?” Vivian looked up, acting completely innocent. “What rumors?” “That I’m a homewrecker. That I tried to steal someone’s husband. That I got fired because of it.” She leaned back in her chair and scoffed. “I didn’t lie. I just told people exactly what I saw at the party.” I laughed out of sheer anger. “I was the one who was betrayed!” But the moment I said that, the whispers around us only grew louder. Clearly, nobody believed me. Right then, Chloe walked in. She was there to hand in some paperwork, and she stumbled right into the scene. I stared at her, as if grabbing onto my last piece of evidence. “Tell them. Tell them who actually stole from whom!” “Was it you and Liam who went behind my back?” Everyone’s eyes locked onto Chloe. Her face drained of color. She instinctively shielded her stomach, her voice barely a whisper. “Elena, please don’t do this… I’m pregnant.” With that single sentence, she sealed my fate. The looks of disgust from the bystanders solidified. Tears streamed down Chloe’s face as she took a half-step back. “Things are already like this. The baby needs a father. If you want to blame someone, blame me. Just stop making a scene, okay?” I looked at her, my chest so tight I could barely draw breath. In the end, under the judgmental stares of dozens of people, I was escorted out of the building by security.

Rent was due, and I needed to eat. No matter how angry I was, I had to survive first. Eventually, I took a job as a waitress at a local restaurant. One night, the shift manager asked me to bring hot tea to one of the private dining booths. The moment I pushed the door open, I froze. My parents, Liam, Chloe, and a few of our relatives were all sitting inside. They were laughing and talking, looking like a perfect, happy family. And there I was, wearing a cheap apron, holding a teapot. The booth fell into dead silence. My mom’s face twisted instantly. Liam looked up and froze when he saw me. Only Chloe, after a brief shock, gently rested her hand on her stomach. I gripped the tray tightly, my knuckles turning white, but I forced myself to say nothing. I walked in with my head down, pouring tea cup by cup. My mom hissed in a low voice, “How could you work in a place like this?” A relative whispered nearby, “She has a college degree. How did she end up like this?” “Didn’t she use to have a nice office job?” I stood by the table. The teapot was boiling hot, but their words burned much worse. As I turned to leave, Chloe spoke up in her sweet, gentle voice. “Elena, have you been under too much stress lately? Why don’t you sit down and eat with us?” “Don’t be mad at us anymore.” I finally looked up at her. She sat there, her baby bump slightly showing, pretending to care so much about me. I felt a chill run down my spine. Some people will rob you of everything, and then turn around and look at you with pity. As if your miserable state is entirely your own fault. “I’m working,” I said coldly. My mom immediately cut in. “How long are you going to keep throwing this tantrum? You’d rather serve tables than come home!” I looked at her. “I’m working to feed myself. And you call that a tantrum?” My dad’s face darkened. “Look at yourself. You look pathetic. Stop this nonsense and come home. Stop embarrassing us out here.” I suddenly let out a laugh. “I’m the one embarrassing you?” “When you gave my boyfriend to Chloe, did you think about how embarrassing that was?” The room fell dead silent. My mom looked furious. “Do you have to be so hostile?” “Hostile?” I asked. “I’m standing here pouring your tea. How much politer do you want me to be?” Liam hadn’t said a word since I walked in. But now, he finally spoke, his voice low. “Elena.” I glared at him. “Don’t call my name.” His lips parted, but he closed them, saying nothing. Chloe slowly stood up, still looking weak and delicate. “Elena, no one wanted to humiliate you. We’re truly worried about you being out here on your own. Since we ran into each other today, why don’t we sit down and talk things through?” I stared at her. “Talk what through? Talk about how you got everything you wanted?” Her eyes immediately filled with tears, and she cupped her stomach. “Please don’t be like this.” “Then how should I be?” I took a step toward her. “Aren’t you the perfect actress? Come on, tell everyone again how you married Liam ‘for my own good’!” The relatives lowered their heads. No one dared to speak. Panicked, my mom reached out and grabbed my arm. “Enough! Haven’t you made enough of a scene?” I shoved her hand off. “I’m the one making a scene?” “Since the day of that wedding, did any of you ever care about my dignity?” I turned to walk out. But the moment I spun around, a sharp gasp echoed behind me. Chloe clutched her stomach, her knees buckling as she collapsed backward. She knocked over the cups on the table, spilling tea everywhere. The next second, a splash of red began to seep through her light-colored dress. The booth erupted into chaos. “Chloe!” My mom screamed and rushed over. My dad panicked. Liam bolted forward, immediately scooping Chloe into his arms. Chloe huddled in his chest, her face pale as paper, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t blame her… I really don’t blame her…” The moment she said that, everyone’s eyes locked onto me with pure rage. Because a second ago, I was the one standing closest to her. I stood there, my body freezing. “I didn’t even touch her.” But nobody listened. My mom rushed over and slapped me hard across the face. “Are you trying to kill her and the baby to be satisfied?!” The slap knocked my head to the side. My ears buzzed. The relatives started shouting at me. “How could she do that to a pregnant woman?” “What if something happens to the baby?” “She’s completely heartless!”

The ambulance arrived quickly. Chloe was rushed to the hospital. After the examination, the doctor said the baby was fine. It was just a scare, but she needed absolute rest. In the hospital room, Chloe lay on the bed, looking pale and exhausted. But the moment she spoke, she was back to playing the saint. “I don’t blame Elena. Really.” “She’s been through too much lately. She’s emotionally unstable. I understand.” I snapped my head up to glare at her. But she didn’t look at me. She just kept talking to my parents. “Maybe you should get her some professional help. I’m really scared that if she stays like this, she’ll end up hurting herself… or someone else.” My mom nodded immediately. “You’re right. She hasn’t been acting normal lately.” My dad’s face was grim, but he didn’t object. I took a step back, my throat tightening. “I’m not sick.” Liam stood by the bed. He looked troubled, as if he knew something wasn’t right. But in the end, he didn’t say a single word to defend me. My dad quickly made a phone call. That very night, I was forcefully taken to a private psychiatric facility. All the way there, I screamed and tried to explain. I was pinned down in the back of the car, tears and fury blinding me. “I’m not crazy!” “What right do you have to lock me up!” “Liam, say something!” I stared at him desperately. But he sat there in silence for a long time, only whispering, “Just try to calm down, Elena.” Calm down. Hearing those words felt like a knife carving out my heart. Before the car doors slammed shut, I could still hear Chloe’s weak, pathetic whimpering from the hospital room. Once we arrived at the facility, the nightmare truly began. Doctors and nurses swarmed me, pinning me down to inject me with a sedative. The moment the needle pierced my skin, my entire body shivered from the pain. I looked up at them, suddenly losing the strength to fight. As the drugs kicked in, my vision blurred. I faintly heard my mom whispering nearby, “Once she gets better, she’ll realize we did this for her own good.” My dad grunted in agreement. I couldn’t hear anything after that. The last thing I saw before closing my eyes was Liam’s blurry shadow standing under the hallway light. Five years of love. Three years of living together. I had truly wanted to marry him. I had dreamed of our wedding, our children, and a long life together. But now, I regretted ever meeting him. After being locked in that private facility, I spent the first day trying to explain myself. And the second day. By the third day, I realized it was completely useless. The doctor asked why I was resisting treatment, and I said I wasn’t sick. The nurse forced pills into my hand, and I told her my family had set me up. They just nodded and wrote in their notebooks: “Patient is highly unstable. Continuous denial of illness.” When I refused to take the meds, the nurses held me down and forced them down my throat. When I tried to run, the orderlies dragged me back. But the absolute worst part was the electroconvulsive therapy. The first time they wheeled me into that room, I didn’t know what it was. But the moment I saw the machines, I started shaking. I backed away, crying and begging them to stop. Two orderlies pinned me down while the nurses strapped my wrists. I fought with everything I had, screaming at the top of my lungs. Suddenly, the door opened, and Liam walked in. Like a drowning person grabbing a lifeline, I screamed to him through my tears. “Liam! I’m not crazy! Please, take me away from here!” The next second, Liam reached out and held my shoulders down. “Elena, stop fighting it. It’s for your own good.” In that instant, my crying stopped. When the needles went in and the electricity surged through my body, my entire frame went rigid. I screamed until my vocal cords practically shredded. When it was over, I threw up so hard I couldn’t even stand. But they said I was still “unstable.” On the consent form for the treatment, Liam had signed his name. After that, I became quieter and quieter. The doses of medication kept increasing, and my brain felt like it was trapped in thick fog. Sometimes, daytime would pass, and I couldn’t even tell if it was night. When someone asked how old I was, I had to think for a long time without finding an answer. When they asked for my name, it took me minutes to remember. One day, a nurse slipped a piece of candy into my hand. “You were very good today. Here’s a treat.” I stared at the candy in my palm, sitting motionless for hours. I began to lose the ability to recognize people. When my mom came to visit, she stood by my bed crying, but I just found her noise incredibly irritating. My dad rarely came. He would stand at the door for a long time, and I had no idea who he was. But when Liam came, I was terrified. Even though my brain couldn’t place his name, the moment I saw him, my arms would begin to throb in phantom pain, and my body would instinctively shrink back into the corner of the bed. Once, a nurse took me out to get some fresh air. Liam was standing near the bench, calling my name in a cracked, hoarse voice. I clutched my stuffed animal tightly and whispered to the nurse, “Who is that man?” In that split second, Liam looked as if all the life had been sucked out of him. But I didn’t know him anymore. Then, the original testing hospital called. They said they had made a mistake with the fertility screening report. The files had been swapped with another patient who shared the same name. My actual fertility results had been completely normal. When Liam received the call, he was standing in the hospital corridor. His phone slipped from his hand, crashing to the floor as his face drained of all color.

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I was going on a road trip with my boyfriend, Phillips, but when I got into the passenger seat, I realized there was a girl already sitting in the back. Phillips smiled and explained, “This is Penny. She’s heading the same way for the weekend, so I thought we’d keep each other company.” Penny leaned forward and flashed me a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Susan, I won’t get in your way. I’m just carpooling to save some cash.” I swallowed the lump in my throat and said nothing. When we arrived at the hotel, I was holding the key card, ready to open our door, but Penny dragged her suitcase right in after us. Phillips said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world: “It’s not budget-friendly for her to get her own room. We can all share this one to save some money. She can just sleep on the sofa.” Penny had already seated herself on the edge of the bed. She looked up at me. “I’ll sleep on the couch. I promise I won’t get in your way.” I stood there, looking at Phillips’s nonchalant expression, and a sudden wave of disgust washed over me. “Fine. You two can share the room. I’m getting another one.”

I turned around and walked away without wasting another second. Phillips was stunned. He chased after me and grabbed my wrist in the hallway. “Susan, seriously? It’s just a room. Why are you overreacting like this?” I shook his hand off. “Just a room? Did you even bother to ask me first?” “What is there to ask? It’s not safe for Penny to stay in a hotel by herself.” “What’s the big deal about us sharing for one night? She’s not even taking the bed. She’s sleeping on the couch!” I stared at his face, suddenly feeling like I was looking at a complete stranger. “Why didn’t you tell me when you booked the room? Why didn’t you say anything before we got in the car?” “You wait until we’re literally standing in front of the door to tell me we’re sharing. Phillips, what do you take me for?” “I just didn’t want you overthinking things!” He frowned, looking at me as if I were the one being completely unreasonable. “You always do this. You get mad over the smallest things. Why do you have to make everything so complicated?” “I’m making things complicated?” I almost laughed out of sheer anger. “You brought another girl to stay in our room, I said no, and that makes me complicated?” “Then what do you want me to do?” “That’s your problem, not mine.” I hit the button for the elevator. “Since you care so much about her safety, you two enjoy the room. Leave me out of it.” The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped inside. Phillips didn’t follow me. “Susan, can you stop being so dramatic? Do you really have to ruin this trip for everyone?” As the elevator doors closed, I heard Penny run out of the room. Her voice sounded soft and pitiful. “Phillips, maybe I should just leave. I don’t want you guys fighting because of me.” I didn’t hear how Phillips replied. The elevator dropped to the lobby. I walked straight to the front desk and asked if there were any vacancies. The receptionist checked the system for a while and said, “We actually had a last-minute cancellation. We have a deluxe king room available. It’s $350 for the night.” Normally, I would never spend that much. But tonight, I didn’t even hesitate. I handed over my credit card. I took the key card and went up to the twelfth floor. Their room was on the ninth. Once inside, I threw my suitcase on the floor and collapsed onto the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. My phone kept buzzing. It was a barrage of Snapchats from Phillips. “What do you actually want from me?” “Did you really have to ruin the trip like this?” “Susan, can you be reasonable for once?” I didn’t reply. Ten minutes later, he sent another one: “I talked to Penny. She’s going to stay somewhere else. You can come back now.” I stared at the message for a long time. Then, I typed my reply: “Phillips, let’s break up.” After hitting send, I flipped my phone face-down on the bed. My heart was racing, and my palms were sweating. I forced myself not to look at my phone for three minutes. When I finally picked it up, Phillips had replied: “Are you sure?” Looking at those three words, I suddenly smiled. I replied: “Yes.” This time, he shot back instantly: “Fine. Don’t regret it.” I didn’t write back. I lay in bed for about half an hour until my stomach started cramping. I had only eaten some snacks in the car at noon, and now it was almost 8 PM and I hadn’t had dinner. I got up, washed my face, changed my clothes, and went downstairs to find some food. There was a trendy restaurant street near the hotel, packed with holiday tourists. I walked along the sidewalk, looking for a place with the shortest line. But when I reached a popular Korean BBQ spot, I stopped. Not because the line was short, but because through the glass window, I saw Phillips and Penny.

They were sitting by the window. A massive plate of marinated beef was sizzling on the grill in front of them, steam rising between them. That was the exact restaurant I had saved on my Instagram collections for three months. I had told Phillips so many times that I wanted to try their K-BBQ. Every time, he would promise to take me. But when the weekend came, he would always make excuses—it was too far, too expensive, too crowded, or we could just go “next time.” He had canceled on me at least five times. We never once made it. And now, there he was, sitting inside with Penny across from him, chatting and laughing over dinner. I stood at the entrance for about ten seconds, then pushed the door open and walked in. “Table for how many?” the host greeted me. “Just one,” I said. The host led me to a table right next to theirs, separated only by a narrow aisle. As I sat down, Phillips looked up and saw me. He froze. A piece of beef fell right out of his tongs and back onto the grill. Penny followed his gaze. The smile on her face stiffened for a second before she quickly recovered her sweet, innocent expression. I didn’t look at them. I took the menu and started ordering. While waiting for my food, I kept my head down, scrolling through Instagram. But from the corner of my eye, I could feel Phillips staring at me. He was probably waiting for me to walk over. Waiting for me to confront him, to scream, to start a fight. The old me definitely would have. If Phillips talked too much to a girl from his college club, I would get upset. If he liked another girl’s selfie on Instagram, I would question him. If he stared at a girl on the street for too long, I would pick a fight that lasted all day. Every single time, he would scowl and say, “Susan, can you stop being so insecure?” And I would reply, “I’m not insecure. You just never care about how I feel.” We had that exact conversation a thousand times. But now, I didn’t want to say a single word. Suddenly, Phillips stood up and plated a piece of prime rib for Penny. His movements were incredibly performative. “Eat up. Didn’t you say you’ve been craving this for ages?” Penny glanced at me, lowering her voice. “Phillips… Susan is sitting right there. If you do this, won’t she get jealous?” Phillips didn’t bother to lower his voice. “Don’t worry about her. We’re done anyway.” I dipped my beef in the sesame oil sauce, chewed it slowly, and swallowed. Throughout the dinner, Phillips kept placing food on Penny’s plate, deliberately glancing in my direction every single time. He was desperate for a reaction. He was waiting for me to slam my fork down, run over with teary eyes, and throw a hysterical fit just like I used to. But I did nothing. I just quietly finished my meal. When I got up to leave, I walked past their table. Phillips looked up at me, his mouth twitching as if he wanted to say something. I didn’t stop. I pushed the door open and walked out. The May evening breeze hit my face, carrying a slight chill. Standing in the crowd, I zipped my jacket all the way to the top and slowly walked back. When I reached the hotel lobby, I bought a bottle of water at the convenience store, drank it at the entrance, and went upstairs. I tapped my key card to open the door, but just as I was about to close it, a hand reached in to block the frame. Penny was standing outside, wearing the hotel’s disposable slippers, her face painted with a textbook expression of apology. “Susan, can we talk for a second?”

I leaned against the doorframe, staring at her. “Speak.” “Can I come in?” “Talk here.” She bit her lip. “Susan, I’m really sorry about today.” “I had no idea you’d mind this much. Phillips and I are really just friends. I just wanted to save some money.” “I feel terrible that you guys fought because of me. Please don’t blame Phillips. It’s all my fault.” Her eyes were red as she spoke. As I looked at her, I noticed the zipper on her shoulder bag wasn’t fully closed. A square, shiny plastic foil was peeking out. An ultra-thin Trojan condom wrapper. Penny noticed where my eyes were landing. She looked down at her bag and quickly zipped it shut. A flash of panic crossed her face, but she quickly reverted to her damsel-in-distress act. “Susan, that’s… it’s not what you think. That’s mine. It has nothing to do with Phillips.” I said, “No need to explain. It has nothing to do with me.” “Are you really not mad at Phillips? Can you guys please make up? I can tell he’s really miserable.” “Phillips and I are broken up.” “He has nothing to do with me anymore. And whatever you two do has nothing to do with me either.” “Sleep together, hook up, do whatever you want. You don’t need to report to me.” Penny wanted to say more, but I slammed the door in her face. The moment the door clicked shut, I heard her let out a soft, amused chuckle on the other side. I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. Phillips and I had been together for three years. From sophomore year to senior year, and then our first year post-grad. All my firsts were with him. First love, first hand-holding, first kiss, first time. My mom had opposed the relationship from the start. She said Phillips didn’t seem like a reliable guy. But I didn’t listen. I fought with my mom, packed my bags, and moved into his rented apartment. It was a dingy semi-basement apartment that was freezing in the winter and suffocating in the summer. We squeezed together on a small twin-size bed where even turning over required careful maneuvering. We fought for the bathroom in the morning and fought for the hot water at night. But I never complained once. Later, when I got a job and started making a bit more than him, I took over the majority of the rent. He promised me things would get better once his project took off. I told him not to rush, that we had time. I waited three years. And what did I get? I got him bringing Penny to share our room. By the time I crawled into bed, it was almost midnight. The curtains weren’t fully closed, and the city lights leaked through the gap. I stared at that sliver of light, my mind replaying scenes from the last three years. He had pursued me for three months, waiting outside my dorm every single morning with a breakfast sandwich and a Coke. Back then, I truly believed he was the one. But slowly, things changed. He started complaining that I was too controlling, too paranoid. He claimed that going out with girls from his club was “just work,” dining with female juniors was “being a supportive senior,” liking girls’ photos was “basic social media etiquette,” and looking at other girls on the street was “just male instinct.” “You can’t expect me to only have eyes for you, Susan,” he had said. He insisted I was just overthinking. But now, I finally got it. I wasn’t overthinking. He was just constantly testing my boundaries, and I was constantly stepping back. And when I had backed up so far that my back was against the wall, he brought another girl right into our space. I turned over and buried my face in the pillow. The next morning, my eyes were incredibly swollen. I pressed a cold wet towel against them for a long time before they looked semi-normal, then put on some light makeup to cover the puffiness. I planned to go to the beach today. Since I was already here, I wasn’t going to let some guy ruin my vacation. I changed and took the elevator down. It stopped at the ninth floor. The doors opened, and Phillips was standing there. He froze when he saw me, then slowly stepped inside. We were the only two people in the elevator. The silence was suffocating. He was wearing a white V-neck tee. The neckline was slightly stretched, and right near his collarbone on the right side of his neck, there was a glaring red mark. A hickey. He knew exactly what I was looking at. He nervously pulled his collar up. “Bug bite,” he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. I let out a soft laugh. “You don’t need to explain.” “Phillips, we are broken up.” “Who you sleep with, who kisses you, or how many marks you have on your neck… none of it is my business.”

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After I secured the company’s biggest offshore contract with my own skills and landed the full-time offer, the new intern actually exposed me at the company-wide meeting. “Attention, everyone!” “Aurora has no real talent at all! She stole my client, and she slept her way to the top to get that permanent position!” The entire room went wild. The department manager asked her where the evidence was, and Grace slammed a stack of photos onto the table. A colleague leaned in to look and gasped, “Oh my god! Aurora got into a limited-edition Maybach!” Instantly, looks of disgust and whispers filled the room. I stared at the jealousy-filled Grace and asked calmly, “You’re saying I sold my body for a promotion? And that I stole your job?” Her eyes were red, and she grit her teeth. “Yes! If I’m wrong, I’ll resign immediately and leave this industry forever!” I nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, I was an intern. But this entire company belonged to my family. Why on earth would I need to steal a job? Sleeping my way to the top? Whose bed would even be worth my time? 1. “Manager Henry! I graduated from an Ivy League school and worked overtime until midnight every single day. I never expected to deal with this kind of woman!” In the conference room, Grace pointed at the photos on the table, tears streaming down her face. “While I was out meeting clients, I saw her with my own eyes getting out of a car in front of a high-end private club.” “During the day, she pretends to study documents in the office. But at night, she goes out to please rich old men!” The conference room fell dead silent for a second. Then, everyone started whispering. Countless judgmental eyes locked onto me. Henry picked up the photos, his face turning completely pale. “Aurora! What do you have to say for yourself?!” “Our company is a reputable corporation. We will absolutely not tolerate someone who ruins our professional culture!” “Pack your things and get out of here right now!” I stayed in my chair, looking at the furious Henry. “Mr. Davis, what do a few photos prove?” “Just because I got out of a car at a club, it means I’m hosting old men?” “Who made a rule saying interns can’t go to high-end clubs?” A female colleague next to me rolled her eyes immediately. “Aurora, stop acting.” “You dress so cheaply every day. You don’t even own a single designer bag.” “If you were actually rich, why would you come here as a low-level intern to suffer?” “That is a custom limited-edition Maybach. It costs millions. You couldn’t even afford to rent it!” Grace wiped her tears and took a step forward. “Aurora, I didn’t want to make things ugly.” “We started this internship together. I know how hard the job market is.” “But you crossed the line. You shouldn’t have stolen the major European client I spent three months chasing!” “I stayed up countless nights writing that proposal just to secure my full-time offer!” I was so angry I laughed out loud. That European client was someone I personally picked up from the airport and negotiated with in fluent French. Grace had barely even seen the client. Now she had the nerve to claim the contract was hers. I challenged her. “You say it’s your contract? Where is your proof?” “My name is on the signed agreement.” “And I wrote every single meeting minute from the negotiation.” Grace bit her lip, glaring at me with pure hatred. “Of course you stole it! You used your body to bribe their representative!” “If you won’t admit it, I have no choice but to bring in the witness!” The room gasped again. Everyone turned their heads toward the conference room door. The door pushed open. A chubby, middle-aged man walked in. I recognized him. He was Frank Johnson, the local agent for our European client. As soon as Frank entered, he threw a disgusted look at me. Grace immediately welcomed him with deep respect. “Mr. Johnson, thank you for coming.” “Please tell the management the truth.” “Who was the one who actually closed that massive offshore deal?” Frank cleared his throat and spoke with absolute confidence. “Is that even a question? Of course it was Miss Grace.” “Her proposal was perfect. Our company was extremely satisfied.” “As for this girl, Aurora…” He sneered and pointed at me. “This woman has no shame!” “Two nights ago, she showed up at my hotel room door wearing barely anything!” “She tried to seduce me to get the contract signed!” “I turned her down immediately and kicked her out!” The conference room instantly erupted. “Oh my god, that is so gross!” “Knocking on a client’s hotel door? She’s ruining our company’s reputation!” “I knew she was fake. She’s just a cheap gold digger!” “Fire her now! Don’t let her drag the company down!” 2. Listening to the nasty insults around me, I leaned back in my chair and looked at Frank. “Frank, you can eat whatever you want, but you can’t say whatever you want.” “Are you absolutely sure I knocked on your hotel door two nights ago?” “You do know that perjury is a serious crime, right?” Frank’s eyes flickered with a hint of panic, but he quickly puffed out his chest. “Of course I’m sure! You even took off your coat and tried to throw yourself at me!” “If I didn’t have self-control, a shameless woman like you would have trapped me!” Grace jumped in quickly. “Aurora, stop lying!” “We have the witness and the proof. You dared to seduce a client, not to mention sleeping around outside!” “You didn’t just steal my hard work. You insulted my efforts!” “Do you have any idea how much I sacrificed for this job?” She sobbed dramatically, playing the victim. “My family is poor. My parents worked three jobs and I took out massive student loans just to get through college!” “I worked day and night just to stay at a top company like this!” “But you? What right do you have to steal my life with your dirty tricks?!” “If the company doesn’t fire you, I will expose this corruption on TikTok!” Hearing this, Henry stood up immediately. “Grace, don’t worry!” “Our company will never protect a woman who sleeps her way to the top!” “Aurora! Pack your bags and get the hell out of here!” I looked at Henry, my voice freezing cold. “Mr. Davis, on what grounds are you firing me?” “Just because of their words?” “The company handbook states that firing an employee requires concrete evidence.” Henry let out a cold laugh. “You want evidence? Fine, I’ll give it to you!” He pulled a sheet of paper from a folder and threw it right at my face. The paper landed on the table. I looked down. It was a screenshot from a hotel hallway security camera. In the photo, a woman wearing the exact same coat as mine was standing outside Frank’s hotel room. Because it was a shot from behind, her face wasn’t visible. I sneered in my mind. So, Henry had teamed up with Grace from the start. Another wave of whispers broke out. “Even the security footage is here. She is so busted!” “She actually had the nerve to ask for evidence. She’s shameless.” “Unbelievable. I’ve never seen anyone this thick-skinned.” Grace crossed her arms, looking down at me like she had already won. “Aurora, what do you have to say now?” “Mr. Johnson personally got this footage from the hotel.” “The coat that woman is wearing is identical to the one you wore two days ago!” “Are you going to deny that’s you?” I picked up the screenshot and looked closely. The coat was indeed the same. But two nights ago, I was working overtime in this very office finishing reports. I hadn’t stepped foot near any hotel. It was obvious Grace had hired someone to pose as me. I tossed the photo back onto the table. “You want to convict me based on a blurry photo from behind?” “Where is the full video? Where is the face?” “Grace, you really went to a lot of trouble to frame me.” Grace’s face twisted, and she pointed a finger at my face, screaming. “What rubbish are you talking about?!” “I framed you? Why would I need to frame a broke nobody like you?” “You did the dirty deed, and now you’re trying to blame me!” “Manager Henry, we can’t keep this woman. We need to call the cops on her!” Henry nodded repeatedly. “Yes! Not just fired, we’re calling the police!” “We’ll sue her for commercial bribery and extortion!” “Aurora, if you don’t return every single cent of the commission you stole today, I’ll make sure you rot in jail!” 3. When they mentioned calling the police, even the colleagues who usually got along with me backed away. Their eyes turned into pure avoidance and disgust. In the corporate world, no one was going to offend the boss for a soon-to-be-fired intern. I watched this circus quietly, finding it highly amusing. As the sole heiress of the multi-billion-dollar Franklin Group, I was being forced out of my own family’s company by a few low-level managers and an intern. I didn’t lose my temper. I just checked the time on my phone. “Sure, call the cops.” “But I suggest you think carefully before you do.” “Can you handle the consequences of filing a false police report?” My calm demeanor clearly drove Grace crazy. She slammed her hand on the table, her voice screeching. “Why are you still acting so calm?!” “Do you think your sugar daddy can save you?” “Let me tell you, this is the Franklin Group! The biggest corporation in the city!” Grace got more and more worked up. “The CEO of Franklin Group hates nepotism and shady deals more than anything!” “Even if your sugar daddy is rich, the Franklin Group won’t be scared of him!” “You’re done today. Nobody can save you!” Henry chimed in immediately. “Grace is right!” “Do you think you can mess around in the Franklin Group?” “Where are the guards? Call security and throw this woman out!” The conference room door opened again. The HR Director, Marcus Vance, walked in with two security guards. Mr. Vance went straight to Grace’s side. He patted her shoulder with an approving smile. “Grace, you did an outstanding job.” “You had the courage to expose the cancer in our company. Management will reward you greatly.” “I have personally signed off on your permanent full-time contract.” Grace immediately looked incredibly grateful, bowing deeply to Mr. Vance. “Thank you so much, Mr. Vance! Thank you, company, for this opportunity!” “I will work even harder to repay the company!” Mr. Vance turned his head, looking at me with cold eyes. “Aurora, your termination letter is ready.” “Because of your severe violation of company policy and damage to our reputation, you are officially fired.” “Furthermore, the company is suing you for five hundred thousand dollars in damages!” Everyone gasped. Five hundred thousand dollars was a devastating fortune for a regular intern. Grace sneered at me with pure triumph. “Aurora, did you hear that?” “Half a million dollars. Can you even afford that?” “Why don’t you beg that old man in the Maybach to pay it for you?” “Though, I bet he’s already tired of you and dumped you!” The room erupted into laughter. Frank joined in as well. “Miss Grace is right.” “Women like her sell their bodies for quick cash. Now that she’s caught, she’ll probably lose every cent she has.” “Get lost already. You’re hurting my eyes.” I looked at Mr. Vance and asked a simple question. “Mr. Vance, terminating an employee and suing them for damages requires the signature of the Vice President or above.” “Does your termination letter have the Vice President’s signature?” Mr. Vance froze, clearly not expecting a cornered intern to know the company’s bylaws so well. But he quickly recovered his arrogant look. “You’re about to get thrown out, why do you care?” “Since I brought it, of course it has been approved by upper management!” “Sign it now, and let security drag you out!” 4. I didn’t touch the paper. I just sat there, unmoved. “If it has the VP’s signature, show me the document.” “Otherwise, I am not signing anything.” “And if you try to drag me out by force, we can wait for the police to handle it.” Henry lost his patience completely. He pointed at the guards and shouted. “What are you waiting for?!” “Can’t you see this crazy woman is making a scene?” “Grab her and throw her out! Dump all her belongings in the trash!” The two guards stepped forward, reaching for my arms. Right at that moment, rapid, heavy footsteps echoed from outside. It sounded like a large group of people approaching. The employees watching from the hallway quickly gasped and scattered. “Oh my god, it’s the Vice President, Mr. Pierce Franklin!” “Get out of the way, quick!” “Why is Mr. Franklin coming down to this floor personally?” Everyone inside the conference room froze. Henry and Mr. Vance exchanged a look, both of their faces lighting up with excitement. Grace was shaking with pure thrill. “Wonderful! Mr. Franklin is here himself!” “He must have heard about your disgusting behavior and came to deal with you personally!” “Aurora, you won’t even have the chance to beg for mercy now!” Grace glared at me, as if she could already see my pathetic ending. The conference room doors were pushed open wide by two bodyguards in black suits. A tall, powerful young man in a bespoke suit walked in. His features were sharp, his eyes deep and cold. He was Pierce Franklin, the Vice President of Franklin Group—and my older brother. The moment Pierce walked in, his intense aura silenced the entire room. Everyone bowed their heads, barely daring to breathe. Henry was the first to react, rushing forward with a groveling smile, bending his back so low he was almost touching the floor. “Mr. Franklin! What an honor to have you visit our department!” “Don’t worry, sir, we are handling a minor issue right now.” “We won’t let this trash of an intern ruin your sight!” Mr. Vance rushed over as well. “Yes, Mr. Franklin, the firing process is almost done.” “This intern, Aurora, not only stole a colleague’s deal, but she’s also sleeping around. I was just about to have security throw her out!” Pierce ignored them. His cold gaze swept over the room, finally landing on me. Seeing the two intimidating guards standing over me, his eyebrows knit together instantly. Seeing this, Grace assumed Pierce was disgusted by me. She immediately seized the chance to show off and ran up to Pierce. She put on a self-righteous, heroic face. “Hello, Mr. Franklin! I am Grace, the newly promoted full-time employee.” “I was the one who exposed Aurora’s horrible behavior!” “The Franklin Group is a prestigious company. We cannot tolerate a gold digger who sleeps her way up!” “Even if it meant offending people, I had to stand up for the company’s integrity!” Grace spoke with such passion, as if she were a saint. The colleagues around her looked at her with admiration. Frank also chimed in from the side. “Mr. Franklin, I am Frank Johnson, the agent for the European account.” “Miss Grace is not only highly capable but also has great character.” “On the other hand, that Aurora girl actually came to my hotel room in the middle of the night!” “You cannot let such a shameless woman off easily, sir!” After hearing them out, Pierce suddenly let out a cold laugh. His laugh sounded incredibly sharp in the silent room. He turned his head, looking at the eager-faced Grace. “Your name is Grace, right?” Pierce’s voice was low and ice-cold. “You just said she slept her way to the top?” “And she knocked on someone’s hotel door in the middle of the night?” Grace nodded frantically, pointing at the photos on the table. “Absolutely, Mr. Franklin! Look, these photos are the proof!” “She rides in a limited-edition Maybach and goes to luxury clubs every day.” “She’s just a cheap girl kept by some rich old man!” I sat in my chair and couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at Pierce’s face, which was already freezing over, I spoke up softly. “Pierce, they are saying I’m being kept by some old man who drives a Maybach.” “Since when did you become an old man?”

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On the day I booked my premium MedSpa package, my coworker, Vivian, leaned over my desk, staring at my screen with pure envy in her eyes. Over the weekend, she suddenly sent me a message on Snapchat: “Is that MedSpa you always go to really that good?” I gave her a casual “yeah.” I never expected to run into her at the clinic the very next day. She was lying there, taking selfies with an expensive gold foil mask on her face. The aesthetician smiled and said, “This lady checked in under your VIP membership number, Chloe.” I swallowed my annoyance, thinking a basic facial was only about fifty bucks anyway. Whatever. But when my bank notification popped up at the end of the month, my hands started shaking. In just two weeks, over twelve hundred dollars had been charged to my card. I rushed to the clinic to check the records, and what I saw nearly made me faint. She hadn’t just been going there every week for high-end treatments herself—she had brought her daughter, Lily, for acne extractions, and her mother, Martha, for anti-aging therapy. She had even booked deep-tissue stress-relief massages for her husband, Peter, and her father-in-law, Arthur! To top it off, every single time, she demanded their most expensive tier-one specialist, plus a full set of premium ampoule serum infusions. As I stood there shaking, holding the receipts, my phone buzzed. It was a voice note from her.

“Chloe, oh my god, your skin looks amazing! What kind of miracle treatment are you getting?” Vivian’s face was almost touching mine, her eyes burning with envy. I had just finished a season-long treatment package at the MedSpa, and my skin was visibly glowing and smooth. I leaned back slightly, trying to avoid her overbearing enthusiasm, and said casually, “Just a clinic I go to regularly. I have a VIP membership there.” “Which one is it? It must be super expensive, right? Are they really that good?” she pressed. The office was crowded and noisy, and I didn’t want to gossip, so I brushed her off with a few vague answers. To my surprise, while I was scrolling through my phone over the weekend, a Snapchat message from Vivian popped up: “Chloe, is that MedSpa you always go to really that good?” Before I could reply, she sent another one: “Hey, can I use your membership ID just to try it out? Just once. I really want to see if it works.” I hesitated. My membership was a top-tier pre-paid Platinum card with over twenty thousand dollars loaded on it. You could charge services to it simply by giving the phone number associated with the account. But then I thought, we are coworkers. We see each other every day. Refusing would make me look petty. “A basic facial is only about fifty dollars. Letting her try it once won’t hurt,” I told myself. So, I sent her the membership number and the clinic’s name, adding a specific note: “Just give them my number. Just try a basic facial first.” She replied instantly: “Omg thank you so much! Love you, Chloe!” I forgot about it almost immediately. The following weekend, I booked a body massage and arrived at the clinic early. Just as I changed into my robe, I heard a loud, familiar voice outside my room. I pushed the door open and froze. Vivian was lying in my exclusive VIP treatment room. She had a luxury gold foil mask on her face, holding her phone up to take a selfie with her other hand flashing a peace sign. The aesthetician next to her looked incredibly awkward when she saw me. “Oh, Miss Chloe, you’re here.” “This lady said she’s your best friend. She checked in using your membership.” Seeing me, Vivian didn’t look embarrassed at all. Instead, she sat up excitedly, her mask almost sliding off. “Chloe! You’re here!” “Look at this! Is this the ‘Imperial Youth Gold Therapy’ you guys have? It feels amazing!” Anger flared up inside me. That “Imperial Youth” treatment cost three hundred dollars per session. It was definitely not the fifty-dollar basic facial I had agreed to. Vivian kept babbling. “Wow, your VIP card is incredible. The moment I walked in, they brought me straight to the VIP suite. The service is top-notch!” Forcing down my rage, I squeezed out a stiff smile. “I’m glad you liked it.” The aesthetician asked cautiously, “Miss Chloe, about this lady’s bill…” “Put it on my account,” I said through gritted teeth. Whatever. Just this once. Consider it a lesson learned. Vivian happily finished her session and even packed a bottle of high-end serum to go. She smiled warmly at me. “You’re the best, Chloe! I’ll come hang out with you here next time!” I watched her walk away. I felt like a heavy weight was suffocating my chest.

Over the next two weeks, Vivian seemed like a different person at the office. She wore exquisite makeup every day, her skin was literally glowing, and she walked around with her chin tilted up, speaking with a newfound sense of superiority. She told everyone she was getting professional skin management at a luxury clinic, but she never mentioned she was using my card. When some coworkers curiously asked where she went, she just smiled mysteriously. “Oh, a close friend took me there. It’s strictly referral-only. Regular people can’t even get an appointment.” Listening to her, I only felt disgust. I thought that three-hundred-dollar treatment was the end of it—the price I paid for being soft-hearted. But at the end of the month, I opened my banking app to check my auto-pay accounts, and a charge of $1,250 stared back at me. “Your card ending in 6051 has processed a charge of $1,250 at Sterling MedSpa.” I stared at the numbers, thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me. I had barely gone to the clinic this month! I immediately called my bank to confirm. Yes, the transactions were real. Several large charges had been made, all from that MedSpa. My hands shook violently as I gripped my phone. I drove straight to the clinic. The receptionist greeted me with her standard professional smile. “Welcome back, Miss Chloe.” I slammed my phone on the counter, my voice cold. “Pull up my recent transaction history. Right now.” The manager, Mr. Sterling, heard the commotion and hurried over to personally pull up the records. When the statement was printed out, it was a long, ridiculous list. Looking at it, I almost fainted. First charge: Vivian, Gold Therapy, $300. Second charge: Vivian, brought a ten-year-old girl (Lily), deep-pore cleansing for both, $200. Third charge: Vivian, brought an older woman (Martha), premium anti-aging therapy, $400. Fourth charge: Vivian, brought two men (Peter and Arthur), deep-tissue stress relief and scalp therapy, $350. She hadn’t just been going there for weekly luxury treatments herself. She had dragged her entire family—her daughter, her mother, her husband, and her father-in-law—and charged it all to me! And the most infuriating part? Every single line item had a note: Requested tier-one specialist, added premium ampoule serum infusion. This wasn’t “trying out” a clinic. She was using my membership card as her personal ATM! Manager Sterling was sweating, apologizing profusely. “I am so sorry, Miss Chloe. This was our mistake.” “The lady kept insisting she was your sister-in-law and your closest friend, so we thought…” “Did she sign for these?” I cut him off. The manager looked uneasy. “She said you gave her full verbal authorization, so… she didn’t sign.” What a “closest friend.” What “verbal authorization”! Holding those paper receipts, I was shaking with sheer rage. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was a voice note from Vivian. I tapped play. Her cheerful, incredibly entitled voice echoed in my ears.

“Chloe! Oh my god, your spa card is literally a lifesaver!” “Peter’s mom said she feels ten years younger after that anti-aging treatment!” “Oh, by the way, can you ask them if they have any kid-friendly facials? Lily said her skin feels a bit dry lately, so I want to bring her in for a full package too.” The voice note was only forty seconds long, but every word hammered against my skull. Not a single ounce of guilt. Just bragging and demanding more. She truly believed she was entitled to all of this. I took a deep breath, locked my phone, and looked up at the manager. My voice was deadly calm. “I want a copy of all security footage of her visits, along with a detailed itemized receipt for every single charge.” “Right now.” The manager didn’t dare hesitate and rushed to get it done. Half an hour later, I walked out of the clinic holding a USB drive and a thick stack of invoices. The sun was bright, but I felt freezing cold. The next day, I went to work as usual. When Vivian saw me, she ran over enthusiastically. “Chloe! Where were you yesterday? I texted you but you didn’t reply!” I looked up at her face, which was looking radiant thanks to my money, and said calmly, “Vivian, my spa card was charged over twelve hundred dollars last month. Was that you?” I kept my voice low, but the coworkers nearby, who already had their ears perked up, heard me. Vivian’s smile froze, and then she let out an exaggerated gasp. “Oh, that! I thought you knew!” “You’re the one who told me to go.” “I mean, you have so much money sitting in that account anyway. I was just helping you use it before it expires!” She spoke loudly, making it sound like I was the one being cheap and dramatic. “My membership is pre-paid. It never expires,” I said, enunciating every word. “Oh, what does it matter!” She grabbed my arm, pretending we were best friends. “Come on, we’re practically sisters! What’s yours is mine!” “Besides, I brought my family to test out their services for you! Now you know which treatments actually work!” Her twisted logic was truly mind-blowing. I shook her hand off and stared at her coldly. “So, you have no intention of paying me back?” Vivian’s face finally darkened. She dropped the act, her voice turning sharp. “Chloe, are you serious right now? You’re going to ruin our friendship over a petty thousand dollars?” “I really misjudged you! It’s just a few hundred bucks here and there. Is it that big of a deal?” “Think about how much you make a month. This is pocket change to you!” Her outburst gathered a crowd of onlookers in the office. People started whispering, casting strange looks at me. To them, I probably looked like a wealthy, heartless bully who was picking a fight with a friend over pennies. Looking at her self-righteous, victimized face, I suddenly smiled. I realized there was no point in arguing with someone this delusional. Without another word, I turned back to my desk. Vivian continued her loud complaints behind my back about how “stingy” I was. I ignored her, plugged the USB drive into my computer, and opened the files. On the screen, high-definition footage of Vivian and her family walking into the spa over and over again played perfectly. Since you threw away your dignity, don’t blame me for what comes next.

For the next few days, Vivian treated me like her worst enemy. She rallied a few coworkers she was close with and actively frozen me out. Whenever I walked into the breakroom, they would immediately stop talking. At lunchtime, they made sure to sit at the table furthest from me. Even during work collaborations, she maintained a cold, strictly bureaucratic attitude, intentionally delaying my requests. Rumors started spreading like wildfire. “Did you hear? Chloe is practically suing Vivian over a spa bill. They aren’t even friends anymore.” “Yeah, so petty. I thought Chloe was generous, but I guess she’s just a control freak.” “You never really know a person. Vivian was always so nice to her.” I saw everything and heard everything, but I didn’t say a word. When a person is blinded by greed, words are useless. Only real pain will wake them up. I kept going to work, hitting the gym, and visiting my MedSpa as usual. Except this time, I met with Manager Sterling and made a special arrangement. “Starting today, my VIP account requires a fingerprint and a secondary passcode to authorize any charge,” I told him. “Also, if Vivian comes back, tell her that I have set up a special ‘Family Add-On Card’ for her. Tell her she can charge everything directly to that card from now on.” The manager looked confused, but he nodded and agreed. Of course, I wasn’t actually giving her a card. I was giving her a signal—a bait to make her believe I had backed down, so she would become even more reckless. I had the manager send her a message from the clinic’s official Snapchat business account: “Hi Vivian, Chloe mentioned there was some misunderstanding previously. She has set up a Family Add-On Card for you as an apology. You can charge any future services to this card. Welcome back anytime!” Sure enough, by Friday evening, my MedSpa app sent me a notification. A new booking. Client: Vivian. Service booked: Grand Royal Couple’s Package (4 hours), priced at $999. Time: Saturday at 10:00 AM. Looking at the notification, my lips curled into a cold line. The audacity of this woman. She was icing me out at the office, yet she didn’t hesitate for a second to book their most expensive package. I didn’t cancel the appointment, nor did I call to confront her. I simply sent a message back to Manager Sterling: “Let her and whoever she brings check in tomorrow. Give them the full service. Business as usual.” The manager replied instantly: “Understood, Miss Chloe.” Putting my phone down, I looked out at the city lights. There was no anger left in me, only an icy calm. Vivian, this was your last chance. Saturday morning, 9:55 AM. I sat on the lounge sofa in the MedSpa lobby, pretending to read a magazine, keeping my eyes on the entrance. Right at 10:00 AM, Vivian walked in, arm-in-arm with her mother, Martha. They were laughing and chatting. Vivian was dressed up to the nines today, carrying a designer bag, her face glowing with triumph. The receptionist greeted them warmly. “Hi Vivian, your private suite is ready for you.” Vivian didn’t even look at me. She strutted past me like a proud peacock. Her mother, however, glanced at me and whispered to Vivian, “Isn’t that your coworker?” Vivian sneered, her voice loud enough for me to hear. “Just ignore her. She’s a cheapskate.” “She tried to pick a fight with me over a few bucks last week, but look at her now. She practically begged me to accept this family card.” “Some people just need to be put in their place!” I turned a page of my magazine, a cold smile playing on my lips. The show is about to start.

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On the eve of our wedding, my girlfriend, Angelica, insisted on throwing a bachelorette party despite my strong objections. She invited all of her ex-boyfriends to stay up all night with her. She even messaged me to “reassure” me: “Don’t worry, babe! There are so many of us here. We’re literally just talking, nothing else!” I smiled, replied with a simple “OK,” and felt so excited that I couldn’t sleep. The countdown to the wedding was down to seven hours. After tomorrow, she would become the most infamous woman in the entire city. Angelica had just called me. “Babe, seriously, don’t worry. There are so many people here, we’re just chatting!” “I know. I trust you,” I replied. Over the phone, I could hear several men jeering in the background. “Wow, Leo really trusts you, doesn’t he?” “Let us run the final check on him! We’ll teach him how to be a good husband after you guys get married!” Their provocations were mixed with weird laughter. I didn’t care. I just sneered and hung up the phone. If I hadn’t seen her Snapchat chat history, I might have actually believed her. I had been dating Angelica for three years, and she had lied to me for three whole years. At first, she told me she had a heartbreak so deep she could never forget her ex. Back then, my heart ached for her. I wondered why such a good girl couldn’t find true love. I spent three months winning her heart, completely unaware that she was still sleeping with her exes behind my back. To make things worse, she complained about me to them, calling me a “naive loser” who was easy to manipulate—just a “suitable guy to marry.” I bought her designer bags and a car, spending over $45,000 in three years. And to her, I was just “suitable.” Hearing the muffled groans coming from the room next door, I lit a cigarette. It was currently 12:40 AM on April 18th. In seven hours, it would be our wedding. Angelica had no idea that I was staying in the exact same hotel, in the room right next to hers, with my bags already packed. My flight was scheduled for 7:00 AM. At 1:00 AM, I packed all the gifts Angelica had bought me over the past three years. They barely filled a cheap plastic delivery bag. A cheap lighter, underwear that ripped after two wears, some travel badges… I left the bag of worthless trash at the front desk. I had already scheduled a courier to deliver it to Angelica’s house at exactly 10:00 AM the day after tomorrow. Then, I opened my phone gallery. I selected all 8,000 photos of us, hit delete, went to the trash folder, and emptied it permanently. My heart felt completely empty, yet strangely light. At 2:00 AM, I started working on a PowerPoint presentation. This was going to be the highlight of tomorrow’s event. Whether she became famous or not depended entirely on this. Right then, my phone buzzed. It was a Snapchat message from Angelica. She sent me a photo of herself tucked under a blanket, with only her head showing. “Babe, I’m back home and going to sleep! Goodnight. Love you!” I didn’t reply. The sounds of flirting and giggling were still leaking through the wall from the room next door. With a numb heart, I saved the photo and inserted it into the final slide of my presentation. At 3:00 AM, I sent a mass message to my Snapchat group: “The wedding tomorrow is canceled. You guys don’t have to come. I’ll buy everyone dinner another time. Sorry for the inconvenience!” These were all my close friends and family. A few of my best friends called me immediately, sounding panicked. Once they realized I was serious, they gasped: “Leo, are you insane? You’re calling it off now?” “Angelica has been with you for three years! You’re just dumping her at the altar?” “What the hell happened?” I only replied with one sentence: “Just watch my live stream tomorrow.” At 4:00 AM, I grabbed my suitcase and checked out of the hotel. Before leaving, I glanced at Room 363. An alarm was buzzing inside, followed by the rustling of sheets. I pulled my cap down, put on a face mask, and walked away without looking back. As the elevator doors opened, a woman rushed out. For a split second, our eyes met. She looked up at me and was about to speak, but I had already stepped into the elevator. It was Chloe, Angelica’s best friend. She was probably bringing her a change of clothes for the morning. What a loyal friend. When I arrived at the airport, Angelica sent me another message: “Babe, I’m so nervous! The makeup artist is arriving soon! You’re going to see the most beautiful version of me today!”

I sneered and texted back: “Great. Wait for me.” Angelica, you won’t be waiting for me today. But you will get a wedding you will never forget for the rest of your life. At 7:00 AM, the wedding planner called me. “Mr. Carter, we’ve arrived at 12 Lakeside Drive with the limo as you requested. When will you be arriving?” “I won’t be coming. Just go ahead without me,” I said calmly. There was a long pause of sheer confusion on the other end. “Mr. Carter, you…” “Don’t worry, the final payment will be wired to your account in full.” Hearing that, the planner let out a sigh of relief. Then, I contacted the live-stream team I had hired. I told them to set up the cameras at the venue and start streaming from the moment the bride arrived in the limo all the way to the stage. Since I paid them generously upfront, they didn’t ask any unnecessary questions. Before boarding the plane, I sent Angelica a quick text, telling her that there was an emergency at home and I might not make it on time. I told her the limo had arrived and she should get in first. Angelica called me immediately. “Leo, what the hell do you mean?” “Babe, it was a sudden accident. My car got rear-ended right outside my neighborhood.” “I’ve sent a professional team to pick you up. Just go through the ceremony first. I’ll meet you at the venue.” “I have a massive surprise waiting for you there!” Hearing this, Angelica’s anger melted into excitement. “Aww, babe! You better not be lying to me!” “I’m not. I promise you’ll never forget today.” “Hmph, you better make it up to me!” Her voice was still a bit raspy. Last night must have been quite wild. I hung up, turned off my phone, and the plane took off. I had booked myself a long vacation. My first stop was a beautiful beach resort. It was time to relax. As for the rest, Angelica could handle it herself. I was officially done. Two hours later, I landed. I turned on my phone and immediately opened the live-stream link. The wedding hall was packed with local influencers and drama-loving onlookers I had invited. Angelica was starting to realize something was wrong. None of my friends or family were there. The venue was only filled with her relatives and strangers holding up phones. Panic-stricken, she began calling me repeatedly. My screen was flooded with dozens of missed calls and frantic text messages. Even her bridesmaids and Chloe were calling, leaving angry voicemails cursing me out. Finally, when her call came through again, I picked up. Angelica screamed hysterically: “Leo! Are you playing me?! If you didn’t want to get married, you should have said so! Why aren’t you here yet?!” “Where is your family? And why is everyone here live-streaming?!” “Angelica, I’m so sorry. I’m still dealing with the car accident.” “But don’t worry, the ceremony is about to start. Your surprise is coming.” “Those people with the cameras are my friends. I hired them to document our special day.” Without waiting for her reply, I sent her $500 via PayPal. Angelica let out a cold snort. “You think you can just throw $500 at me after pulling a stunt like this?” “Be patient. When the ceremony begins, I’ll give you the most sparkling gift of all.” Only then did she calm down. “I’m warning you, Leo. If you pull any more tricks, I will ignore you for the rest of my life.” I didn’t bother replying. I hung up, checked into my beachfront hotel, changed into swim shorts, put on some sunscreen, and slid on my sunglasses. I sat on a beach lounge chair, taking in the view. The blue sky, white clouds, the ocean, and girls in bikinis—everything was beautiful. Meanwhile, my phone screen was playing the live stream of my own wedding. The onlookers and streamers were buzzing with excitement. None of them knew what was going to happen, but they knew this wedding was about to go viral.

Even the viewers in the chat were asking what was going on. [A wedding live stream? People will stream anything these days. Who wants to watch this?] [Wait, there’s drama! I’m friends with the streamer. Apparently, the groom has a massive, mind-blowing surprise for the bride!] [Really? I’m staying for this!] The viewer count quickly climbed to 10,000. I didn’t expect it to blow up so fast. As the minutes ticked by, the number surged to 30,000. The influencers were hyped, doing their best to keep the chat engaged. Watching this from my beach chair, I couldn’t help but laugh. It had to go viral. Otherwise, how would Angelica get the fame she deserved? Suddenly, the emcee’s voice echoed through the speakers. “Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, welcome to the wedding of Mr. Leo Carter and Miss Angelica Vance. I am your emcee, Marcus.” “At the request of Mr. Carter, I will be hosting today’s ceremony.” “And now, please welcome our beautiful bride, Angelica!” Angelica, waiting outside the hall, looked utterly bewildered. “What is going on? Leo isn’t even here yet, and I have to walk in alone?” The wedding planner quickly whispered from the side, “The groom is waiting on the stage screen to greet you. Go on in, everyone is waiting!” Angelica rolled her eyes. “Hmph. If it weren’t for his surprise gift, I wouldn’t do this!” She had no idea that the planner was also live-streaming. The viewers had watched her entire arrival. The groom hadn’t even shown up, yet the bride was still willing to go through with it. The chat was flooded with comments. [Did she hold him at gunpoint or something? Why is she so desperate to marry him?] [The groom hasn’t shown up yet. This is a massive red flag!] [Wait, the bride looks familiar… Wasn’t she at Club 897 last night?] [No way! The bride is my former classmate. I’m actually at the venue right now, and the groom is nowhere to be seen. Something is definitely wrong.] Angelica knew nothing of this. She had no idea what was waiting for her. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her gown and slowly walked out to the sound of the wedding march. The spotlight hit her, and the cameras flashed. Angelica held her head high, smiling like a Hollywood star. The venue setup was absolutely stunning—I had designed it exactly to her taste. I wanted her to be the brightest star on the red carpet, just for today. “Angelica Vance is beautiful and elegant. Today, their three-year journey of love finally bears fruit.” “Now, the groom, Leo Carter, has prepared a very special, mysterious gift for her! Let’s welcome our bride to the center of the stage!” As the spotlight locked onto her, Angelica’s face beamed with smug pride. However, since I still hadn’t appeared, she was starting to feel a little uneasy. She wanted to grab her phone, but remembered it was with Chloe, who was standing at the edge of the stage, looking so moved she was practically crying. Suddenly, the giant LED screen behind the stage lit up. My face appeared on the screen. I looked at the camera and gave a calm, polite smile. “My dear Angelica, today is our wedding day. But as you can see, I am not there. I am currently in Miami.” Angelica’s smile froze. “Leo, what the hell is this? Are you mocking me?!” she screamed at the screen. My face on the screen turned cold. “You are the one who has been mocking me.” “We’ve been dating for three years, and you’ve been cheating on me for three years! Your partners range from your ex-boyfriends to random hookups.” “They range in age from 20 to 50. In the past three years, you have slept with more than fifty different men.” “Every time you said you were traveling for work, you were actually fooling around in hotels with your boss.” “Every time you said you were ‘too tired’ and ‘needed space,’ you were wrapped in your ex’s arms.” “Even last night, at your bachelorette party, you were in a hotel room next to mine, fooling around with four men until sunrise!” “And I was right next door, listening to everything!” With every sentence I spoke, the color drained from Angelica’s face. “This wedding is officially canceled. Good luck, Angelica.” “This is the end of our three years. I hope you enjoy your life, and I hope you love my wedding gift!” *BANG!* A loud pop echoed as the massive balloons hanging from the ceiling burst simultaneously. Thousands of printed photos fluttered down like snow. At the same time, the giant LED screen began displaying Angelica’s Snapchat history and her intimate photos. Angelica let out a blood-curdling shriek. Seeing the venue covered in her scandalous photos, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed, fainting right on the stage!

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The first time I went to visit my billionaire heir boyfriend’s family estate, I got drunk and wandered into the wrong bedroom. I ended up sleeping with his older brother. Cole, my boyfriend of five years, couldn’t handle the shock. He sped off into a torrential storm, crashed his car, and died on the spot. To punish me, his older brother married me and subjected me to endless torment and humiliation. He forced me in every place imaginable, with no regard for my dignity. He only let me go when I cried and admitted I was a worthless gold-digger who seduced him. But when I opened my eyes again… I was back to the day Cole was taking me to meet his mother. This time, my voice was hoarse as I said: “Let’s break up, Cole. We shouldn’t see each other anymore.” “Harper, what kind of nonsense is that?” Cole let out a playful laugh and grabbed my hand. “I’m sorry about today. It’s my fault we got stuck in traffic. Please don’t be mad.” I stared at him in a daze, then shoved his hand away in shock. In my past life, It was at this exact moment that Cole suddenly revealed he was the heir to the Sinclair empire. He insisted on dragging me to his family’s estate to meet his mother. But no one expected what happened next. A storm delayed Mrs. Sinclair’s flight that day. Instead, his older brother and the head of the family, Christian Sinclair, hosted us along with his fiancée, Scarlett Sterling. They arranged for me to stay in the guest wing. But the Sinclair estate was as massive and confusing as a labyrinth. Drunk and disoriented, I lost my way and walked into the wrong bedroom. I ended up in Christian’s bed, and we slept together. When Scarlett found out, she broke down, sobbing as she drove away in the storm. Worried about her safety, Cole chased after her. But the car skidded on the wet road and slammed into the guardrail. Both of them died instantly. Overnight, Christian lost the two people he cared about most. He married me as a form of revenge. After the wedding, he tormented and humiliated me at every opportunity, in every place possible. He would pin me down, forcing me to shake and cry beneath him, making me admit over and over that I was a cheap, plotting whore before he would finally let me go. In that suffocating prison of the Sinclair mansion, Every single day was a living hell. A massive wave of fear and shame washed over me. I trembled as I spoke. “Cole, I mean it. Let’s break up!” Cole stared at me, utterly bewildered. “Harper, what are you talking about?” “I didn’t mean to hide my family background from you. I apologize, okay?” As he spoke, he grabbed my hand and slapped his own handsome face with it twice. He lowered his head, acting like a scolded puppy. “I was wrong. Come on, who else is going to treat you like a queen if you leave me?” I clenched my trembling fists. Cole was a bit of a golden-retriever boyfriend, and he really had been sweet to me. In my past life, I had been thrilled, thinking I had hit the jackpot and was about to marry into royalty. But I learned the hard way that when the ultra-rich want to destroy a girl with no background, They can make you wish you were dead. Christian’s cold, dangerous smirk flashed in my mind again. I remembered my dad being beaten until he bled, and the endless humiliating scenes of my torment. I took a shaky step back. The Sinclair family. I couldn’t afford to touch them. I stared into Cole’s eyes, forcing out each word through gritted teeth. “Cole, you are so annoying! You’re not good enough for me. Stop bothering me!” Leaving Cole in utter shock, I turned around and ran without looking back. The moment I got home, I blocked every single one of Cole’s accounts on Snapchat and Instagram. I fell into a restless sleep, having no idea how long I slept. Suddenly, my dad burst into my room, looking frantic. “Harper, why are you still sleeping? Cole got into a car accident!” My eyes snapped open in shock. On the way to the hospital, my mind was a chaotic mess. Did Cole still end up in an accident, even though I avoided going to his estate in this life? Was my tragic fate unavoidable after all? I stood outside the hospital room, trembling. I didn’t dare open the door. I was terrified of seeing two bloody corpses inside. Suddenly, the door swung open from the inside. Losing my balance, I bumped straight into someone’s chest. “Who are you…?” A cold voice drifted from above. I looked up in terror. The elegant, sophisticated man in front of me froze for a second. But quickly, his eyes turned freezing cold. That look was all too familiar… My whole body started to shake. Christian had been reborn too!

Honestly, my relationship with Christian hadn’t been bad at the very beginning. Back then, Cole was rebellious. He smoked, drank, got into fights, and drag-raced. Christian got so angry that he kicked him out of the house. Cole almost got beaten to death on the street once. I happened to be delivering pastries for my dad’s bakery in our old van, and I managed to scare those thugs away. After that, Cole cleaned up his act and stuck to me like glue. A few days later, A very elegant, sophisticated man showed up at our shop. Cole happily introduced him as Christian, his older brother. Thanks to Christian’s help, our little artisan bakery suddenly went viral. All the big companies nearby started placing massive orders. My dad became so busy he could barely catch his breath. On weekends when I was home from college, my dad had no time to cook, so Cole would drag me to Christian’s penthouse for dinner. Back then, Christian was as warm and helpful as a friendly neighbor. When some local thugs tried to trash our shop out of jealousy, Christian resolved it with a single phone call. So, back then, I always called him Christian and brought him little gifts to show my appreciation. But who could have guessed? Our relationship would eventually turn into a nightmare. In my past life, after Scarlett and Cole died, Christian didn’t miss a single chance to humiliate me. In his office, at gala halls, in fitting rooms, by the swimming pool… I had to endure his cruel touch over and over while shaking uncontrollably. Only when I was about to faint from crying, choking out the confession that I had seduced him and that I was a shameless woman, Would he finally let me go. Those painful memories echoed in my head, making my vision go blurry. I could barely stand. “Harper.” Cole’s leg was wrapped in thick bandages. He looked at me with pure joy when he saw me. I forced myself to stay upright and squeezed out a few words. “Cole, we’re broken up! Stop calling my dad.” With that, I turned to leave. “Harper! No! Don’t go!” Cole was so desperate that he fell right off the hospital bed. My heart softened for a fraction of a second, and I paused. But a large hand quickly grabbed Cole and threw him back onto the bed. Christian sneered coldly. “She’s just a cheap girl. Why are you begging her?” Cole froze in shock. “Christian! What are you saying? Apologize to Harper right now!” Scarlett, who had just walked in, also froze. “Christian, didn’t you always say Cole found a wonderful girlfriend? Why are you being so harsh all of a sudden?” Christian shot a cold glare at me. “I was blinded by a scheming gold-digger before. Cole, stay away from trash like her from now on.” “Harper is not trash!” Cole began to cough violently. I clenched my fists. Christian had definitely been reborn. In my last life, he kept me as his personal prisoner, abusing me at his whim. He didn’t even let me see the baby I had just given birth to. No matter how hard I begged, All I got was endless humiliation. Later, a kind maid in the Sinclair house couldn’t take it anymore and secretly helped me escape. But Christian caught me effortlessly. To teach me a lesson, He brutally assaulted me right in front of my dad, which triggered my dad’s heart condition and killed him. On the night my dad died, I finally snapped and stabbed Christian. I couldn’t remember how many times I plunged the knife into him. I only remembered that when I came to my senses, Christian’s gold-rimmed glasses were splattered with blood. He couldn’t even speak. He just slumped on the sofa, staring at me quietly. I screamed and ran out, only to trip and fall from the balcony. Then, I woke up reborn. In this life, No matter what. I would rather die than have anything to do with the Sinclair family! I just wanted a peaceful, quiet life with my dad! I stared coldly at Christian. “Christian, are you deaf? I already broke up with your brother. What you should do is keep a leash on him so he stops bothering me!” A flash of shock crossed Christian’s eyes. I turned on my heel and walked out of the room.

“Christian! Why did you talk to Harper like that?! Now she’s left me! Are you happy now?!” Cole’s angry roars, the sound of heavy objects crashing, and Scarlett’s screams echoed down the hallway. It sounded like Cole and Christian were fighting. But none of that had anything to do with me anymore. Over the next few weeks, I threw myself into my studies. My grades skyrocketed. My professor unexpectedly asked me if I wanted to apply for an exchange program abroad. I thought about it. In my last life, I was locked away by the Sinclair family. I never got to enjoy freedom. In this life, I wanted to live for myself. I wanted to see the world. So, I signed the application form without hesitation. Cole didn’t show up for a long time. I thought my life was finally back on track. But then, Scarlett showed up at my college. I didn’t have much interaction with this rich heiress in my past life. I only knew she and Christian were childhood sweethearts. But why was she looking for me? “Harper, Christian has always been a polite gentleman. He’s never been this rude before. Maybe there was some misunderstanding?” “I want to apologize on his behalf. Please don’t take his words to heart. My engagement party is next week. Please come.” Scarlett handed me a beautiful invitation. A polite gentleman? I scoffed inwardly. Christian was just a master of disguise. Deep down, he was a monster. Sometimes, I felt a surge of hatred. I wondered if I had successfully stabbed him to death in my past life. I should have stayed to watch him draw his last breath. Since he was reborn, he must hate me to the core too. He was probably planning some twisted way to get back at me. I shook my head and declined. “I’m sorry, Scarlett. I…” Scarlett suddenly pulled out her phone and showed me a video of a hospital room. “Harper, please don’t say no just yet.” “I’m actually here for Cole. He’s been fighting with Christian and trying to kill himself for days. I can’t bear to watch it anymore.” In the video, Cole looked terrible, covered in bruises and unshaven. Like a maniac, he grabbed a scalpel and tried to slit his own throat. Blood splattered everywhere. Several doctors rushed in to pin him down and tie him to the bed. Cole’s eyes were bloodshot as he screamed. The sight of that blood made my chest tighten. I clenched my trembling hands. I had been treated like that in my past life too. Wanting to die, but not being allowed to. But Cole was innocent in all of this. I lowered my eyes and swallowed my rejection. “Scarlett, tell him that if he tries to hurt himself again, I won’t even show up at the party.” Scarlett’s face instantly cleared up, and she smiled as she took my hand. “Great. I’ll tell Cole right away.” It was just a party anyway. It wouldn’t kill me. Consider it a final goodbye. I wore the dress Scarlett had sent me and walked toward the grand ballroom of the party. Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm and pulled me into a dark corner. My entire body went stiff. “Harper.” Cole had lost a lot of weight, and his eyes were red. “You finally came to see me.”

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