Author: Momo Chan

She Messed With The Wrong Waitress At a high-end restaurant, a group of snobby socialites went wild ordering, then nonchalantly wrapped a ring in a napkin. In my past life, I mistook that napkin for trash and cleared it away. When it came time to pay, they slammed their hands on the table. “You’re eyeing my million-dollar diamond ring, aren’t you? You deliberately stole it!” Brittany filmed me and posted it online. Netizens slammed me as a heartless thief, gone mad with greed, threatening to trash the restaurant. Mr. Henderson, the manager, quickly fired me and issued a statement condemning “thieving employees.” I became public enemy number one, a pariah reviled by everyone. Forced to haul bricks at a construction site to repay my debt, I watched as the socialites passed by, laughing. “A fake ring, and we got someone to work for us for a lifetime. Way better than a discount coupon!” In a daze, a falling brick struck my head, killing me instantly. Now, as I opened my eyes, the same socialites were calling out to me to check their bags and take their orders. Don’t worry! This time, my service will be unforgettable for life! … “Waitress, another Tomahawk steak!” “Ugh, don’t stand so close to me, you’ll ruin the perfume I just sprayed.” “Seriously, no manners at all. Later, you’ll peel my shrimp with gloves on, and if you mess it up, I’ll complain!” Looking at the four “socialites” in front of me, I instinctively touched the back of my head. No injury, no pain at all. Had I really been reborn? They were still loudly ordering, snapping photos to post on Ins with greedy looks, while pretending to critique everything. In my last life, worried they’d order too much and waste it, I kindly reminded them. They just mocked me for being a country bumpkin who’d never seen the world. “So what if we can’t finish it? I’m rich, I’ll spend my money however I want.” “Exactly! We’ll just take a bite of each and throw it away. It’s none of your business!” Fine, fine, I was too nosy. This time, I not only kept my mouth shut but also specifically recommended an expensive, vintage red wine, over a thousand dollars a bottle. Mr. Henderson thought we had a big client and personally came out to toast them. The four socialites proudly recorded him. Their TikTok caption: [The Michelin owner just *had* to toast us. What can I say, I’m a regular!] It instantly garnered countless likes. [OMG, you’re so rich, Queen!] [Which heiress is this? No wonder she has such a great vibe.] [Thanks for showing us the good life, Queen. Next time, can we go somewhere even pricier?] Pfft! “Socialites”? Please. Gold-digging fakes, pooling money to appear wealthy and lure unsuspecting marks, that’s what they were! They even wanted to scam a free meal. Dream on! I watched as Brittany, the woman with the wavy hair, wrapped the ring in a napkin, then deliberately mixed it with the used napkins. Quietly, while cleaning, I picked up the napkin, pretending to toss it in the trash bin. After they relaxed, I retrieved the ring and immediately took it to the valuables safe. I placed it with their “designer” handbags. Let’s see, if you can’t scam anyone, how will you pay the bill? “Waitress, you have one minute to peel these rock shrimp! Otherwise, they’ll get cold and won’t be fresh, and we won’t pay!” Brittany ordered. The others aimed their cameras at me, their faces creased with laughter. Last life, they abused me just like this. I focused all my energy on their unreasonable demands, completely oblivious to the ring. Afterward, I desperately searched through the trash to prove my innocence. Brittany actually demanded Mr. Henderson dump slop on me. She said if she could just “vent her anger,” she wouldn’t cause trouble for the restaurant. As the foul-smelling slop poured over my head, I realized the trash had already been hauled away by the garbage truck. I lost all hope. “If you owe someone, you must pay. Always be honest.” My dad, who raised me alone, always taught me that. To help me pay the debt, he took me to the construction site. Before I was killed by the falling brick, he had already died of overwork, with no money for a burial plot. His ashes were kept at home. “Okay, I’ll peel them!” Ignoring the pricks and pain in my fingers, I quickly peeled a plate of shrimp and placed it before them within a minute. They immediately started coming up with new challenges. Pouring a soda with no bubbles. Dividing the Tomahawk steak into four perfectly identical pieces. Changing the tablecloth if a single drop of oil landed on it, and not a speck of trash anywhere. I was running myself ragged, but I gritted my teeth and meticulously fulfilled every single one of their ridiculous demands. “Well, look at you. You’ve got some skills.” Brittany glanced at me, and seeing that the napkin with the ring was gone, she smiled confidently. Then she waved the others to continue eating. I forced a smile and opened another bottle of high-end red wine, aged ten years. “Check, please.” I hastily handed over the bill. Looking at the dining cost, which had more than doubled from my previous life, reaching ten thousand dollars, I clenched my fists. With me here, you won’t get away with paying a single cent less for this meal! 2. Brittany pulled out her phone, pretending to casually glance at the table, then shrieked. “Ah! Where’s the napkin I wrapped my ring in? Who saw it?” The other three joined in the frantic search, their faces feigning panic. When they couldn’t find it, they all turned their eyes to me. Brittany slammed the table, her eyes wide as saucers. “Aha! You’re eyeing my million-dollar diamond ring, aren’t you? You deliberately stole it!” I waved my hands. “N-no… no, what diamond ring?” They exchanged glances, nodding smugly. “Manager? Call the manager over!” Hearing the commotion, Mr. Henderson scurried over. Brittany’s bright red nails pointed at me, as if she wanted to claw a piece of flesh from me. “Your employee stole my diamond ring. What are you going to do about it?” Mr. Henderson slapped the back of my head. “I’ve told you before, you have to be careful with guests’ valuables! You never learn!” He smiled apologetically, trying to calm the guests. “Where did you put the ring? Could there be a misunderstanding?” Brittany opened her phone, pulling up a purchase record and sliding it across Mr. Henderson’s eyes. “I specifically wrapped it in a napkin and placed it right next to me. What misunderstanding could there be? What, are you taking her side? Is this some kind of crooked establishment? Be careful, I’ll expose you!” Brittany aimed her camera at Mr. Henderson, who quickly changed his tune. “N-no, no, I mean, what if Chloe accidentally threw it away? Let’s go search the trash cans now, maybe we can still find it.” By the dumpster, the garbage truck had just passed. They had already staked out the place, everything was perfectly orchestrated. And in my past life, I actually endured the stench, hoping to find the ring to prove my innocence. I never imagined they were deliberately trying to frame me. How despicable! “Go search! You definitely won’t find it.” “Yeah, she must’ve secretly taken it and hidden it, then pretended to throw it in the trash.” “That was a ten-million-dollar top-tier diamond ring, ten million!” Their shouting attracted a crowd of onlookers. Unaware of the truth, people saw the socialites dressed in designer clothes, while my uniform was faded and worn, and shook their heads. “Quickly return the ring to them. So young, yet already going down the wrong path. You’ll regret it when you end up in jail.” “Exactly, that expensive ring, you couldn’t pay for it even if you sold yourself.” “Maybe… maybe she really threw it away by accident?” “So what if she threw it away? You don’t have to pay if you throw away someone else’s property? If you’re not capable, don’t do this job. Oh, so your helplessness gives you a free pass?” Although I had a plan, their incessant chatter, one after another, still brought tears to my eyes. My family was poor, but we never stole or robbed. My dad taught me to be honest, so I never compared myself to others, nor envied wealth I couldn’t have. Being able to support myself with my own hands was something to be proud of. But why, why do some people always insult others simply because they have money? Even if they don’t have money, they pretend to be big shots and deliberately frame me! “Give me time. I’ll definitely find it by ten o’clock.” My voice was drowned out by the crowd. Brittany pushed me, cornering me by the slop bucket. “What if you don’t find it?” “She definitely won’t bring it out. Otherwise, if it’s confirmed theft, ten million could land her in jail for a very long time!” I looked up blankly, met Brittany’s eyes, and pointed at the slop bucket. “I really didn’t steal it. If the ring isn’t found, I’ll drink that entire bucket of slop!” The onlookers egged me on, and Brittany proudly tilted her head back. “Wait! If it is found, you’ll have to pay the dining fee, plus compensation for wrongly accusing me!” I shouted. An older woman, Mrs. Miller, yelled out. “That’s right, if she’s truly been wronged, the girl is quite pitiful.” “Not watching your own ring, you bear some responsibility too.” Brittany was put on the spot, unable to back down. She glanced at the trash heap, making sure the previous batch of trash had been cleared, then clapped her hands. “Fine! If you can find it, I’ll pay you double the dining fee!” “Of course, if you stole it and hid it somewhere, then bringing it out now won’t count. I won’t pay you, and I’ll still press charges!” Double the dining fee, that’s twenty thousand dollars! “Deal, then!” 3. The atmosphere intensified. The restaurant practically ground to a halt. Mr. Henderson returned after apologizing to everyone and tossed a piece of paper at me. “You’re fired. Whatever you do from now on is your personal business!” Eager to distance himself, just like in my previous life. If he had offered me even a little help, things might have been different. But no, he chose to watch me be framed, and even helped the wrongdoers. He’d even put out notices and contacted all the restaurant companies to blacklist me, all to clear his own name. “Fine. Then any money beyond the dining fee will be considered my compensation.” My eyes red, I rushed around the restaurant like a madwoman. Not enough! Twenty thousand wasn’t enough! I wanted them to lose their entire fortune and ruin their reputation! Seeing me fail to find the ring, Brittany grew bolder. She had been live-streaming the entire time. A netizen posted a comment. [Something shiny in her pocket! Maybe she hid it on her!] [Search her! Frisk her!] Brittany shoved the comment in my face, demanding I turn around. “Why should I…” Before I could finish, the other three women grabbed my arms and body. Brittany reached into my pants pocket and pulled out a necklace embroidered with a cross. “What’s this junk? Useless!” She casually tossed the necklace into the trash heap. “Give it back!” I pushed her away forcefully and, regardless of the mess, dove into the trash heap. My hands were covered in vegetable soup, but I finally found the necklace, soaked and stained. I carefully unwrapped it, taking out a small piece of paper hidden inside. The words written on it: “My daughter, stay safe. Mommy is watching over you from heaven.” Now, the ink had blurred, no longer legible. This was my mother’s last memento, written by her own hand, sewn by her own needle! How dare she! I stood up, wishing I could immediately take out the ring and throw it in her face. “What’s wrong? You’re not trying to scam me over some piece of junk, are you?” Perhaps my gaze was truly frightening, because Brittany gulped. “Alright, alright! If you’re so capable, give me back my ring, and I’ll pay you whatever this junk necklace is worth. It’s pocket change.” “But, I still need to search you, to see if you’re hiding my ring!” She gave a look. The three women pounced, tearing at my clothes. “Stop it! Stop!” I screamed as loud as I could. The onlookers at the door peered in, but not a single person stepped forward to intervene. They were there for the show; who cared about the truth? “If you search me and don’t find it, how will you compensate me?” Brittany scoffed. “If you’re so capable, find the ring. Otherwise, each piece of clothing is ten thousand dollars. Even if I strip you naked, you’ll still owe me. Take it off!” My uniform jacket was ripped open, the zipper falling to the floor. “Ten thousand!” I shouted. “Keep going!” Brittany was unfazed. The inner uniform was also torn down the middle; I desperately held onto my tank top. “Twenty thousand!” My shoes were yanked off, my socks pulled away, leaving my feet bare. “Sixty thousand!” Brittany, enraged, stomped over in her heels and personally yanked at my waistband. “I’ll pay you a hundred thousand for everything, is that enough? Take them off!” I desperately clung to my pants. “Alright, alright, she didn’t find anything during the search.” Mrs. Miller, the older woman from earlier, pushed through the crowd, took off her coat, and draped it over me. I gratefully gripped her warm hand. “Ten million minus one hundred thousand, that’s still nine million nine hundred thousand. Pay up!” She jabbed a finger at my forehead, making me stumble. I took a deep breath, then slapped my forehead. “I remember now! I was busy serving you, and when I found the ring, I put it in the safe!” “If you hadn’t made so many demands, how could I have forgotten?” Brittany glanced at the key strapped to her wrist, then looked at me suspiciously. “Impossible, I clearly saw—” Her words were cut off by the surging crowd, pushing to see the safe. We arrived at the valuables deposit area, and the people who followed were still discussing. “If she’s really been wronged, this is going to be a huge embarrassment.” “Exactly, and they’ll have to pay her a hundred thousand dollars!” Brittany’s eyes grew more and more doubtful. I took the key, opened the safe, and reached for the ring, but my heart sank. The ring, it was gone? 4. “See, everyone, I didn’t accuse her falsely!” Brittany let out a sigh of relief, smugly pulling out her Chanel bag and slinging it over her shoulder. A sharp-eyed passerby gasped. “Oh! Isn’t that the limited edition collectible bag released by the Zurich Auction House? It’s in this young lady’s hands!” “How much must that cost? A socialite like her wrongly accusing a waitress, that’s impossible!” “Just admit defeat already. How much is her wasted time worth? They haven’t even charged you for that.” A buzzing sound filled my ears. Brittany scribbled an agreement and handed it over. [Due to the theft of Ms. Brittany’s ten-million-dollar diamond ring, Chloe will pay monthly compensation from her salary, in lieu of legal prosecution.] Netizens were also flooding the comments. [It’s so generous not to sue this kind of person.] [Brittany is a saint, Brittany is awesome!] [We’ll always support you!] I picked up the pen, my hand trembling. The tragedy of my past life was replaying before my eyes. Was I destined to never escape this fate? “Mr. Henderson!” I threw down the pen and shouted. Mr. Henderson stood nearby, arms crossed, watching me. “Check the surveillance footage! When I returned the ring to the safe, the hallway cameras must have caught it!” Brittany’s face stiffened, then relaxed when she heard Mr. Henderson’s reply. “Surveillance? It broke down this morning, and I just reported it for repair. Didn’t you know?” Such a coincidence? No, that’s impossible! I rushed into the surveillance room, only to see that the latest date was yesterday, and there was nothing on the real-time screen. “If you don’t sign, I’m calling the police!” Brittany toyed with her phone, effectively holding my fate in her hands. My chaotic mind slowly cleared. A ten-million-dollar diamond ring, broken surveillance, an opened safe… “Want to raise the stakes?” I pulled out another blank piece of paper from the counter. “Raise what? What leverage do you have left?” Brittany shot back. I gazed steadily at Brittany. Remembering the oppression she inflicted on my dad and me in my past life, I signed both my name and my dad’s name on the agreement. It was as if my dad was fighting alongside me. “We have five minutes until ten o’clock. If the ring isn’t found, my dad and I will both work for you!” Brittany’s eyes lit up. She would agree. She just wanted to scam people; how could she refuse an extra person to repay the debt? “If it is found, proving I had nothing to do with the ring’s disappearance, you’ll pay me double the compensation, two hundred thousand dollars. Sign a written agreement. Do you dare?” I pushed the blank paper towards her. Brittany took the pen and looked back at the other three women. “What’s there to be afraid of? If she could find it, she would have already.” “It’d be great to have someone work for us for a lifetime, making money.” Brittany nodded, then signed the agreement with a flourish. [This girl is doomed, daring to sign such an agreement with a socialite.] [Say something nice, maybe Brittany will soften up and let her go. Being so stubborn, she deserves bad luck!] The online bullying frenzy continued, but I stood by the bar, motionless. [Still not searching? Giving up?] [Forcing her dad into this too, not only stealing but also unfilial, she truly deserves to die!] The clock hand pointed to ten. Brittany shoved the “indentured servitude” contract in my face again. “Give me the purchase record and invoice.” My request, in their eyes, was merely a dying struggle. Mr. Henderson scurried around and printed them out in a moment. I picked up the pen, hesitating to sign. Brittany had long lost her patience, pressing my hand down onto the paper. “What? Are you trying to back out?” As the restaurant door opened, I slowly smiled. “How do you know I can’t find the ring?” “I was just waiting for someone. And now, he’s here.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299223”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

I was the target of a vicious rumor started by a male classmate. He claimed he’d seen me, disheveled, emerging from Professor Thorne’s dorm. I asked Professor Thorne to help clear my name, but he just shrugged it off. “People will talk, Hazel. Let them say what they want.” “If you make such a big deal out of it, they’ll really think there’s something going on.” The next time the guy spread rumors, I didn’t deny it. I just owned it. “Yeah, you’re damn right! He totally slept with me!” “Hello, police? I’ve been drugged and assaulted by my professor, and I have witnesses right here!” Professor Alistair Thorne had only just finished his Master’s, barely a few years older than us. He was approachable, always down to hang out with students. Everyone called him Alistair, or just “Professor Alistair” casually. When I walked into the classroom, Derek Stone was holding forth, gesticulating wildly, spinning tales about me and Professor Alistair. “Seriously, Professor Alistair is a legend!” “Hazel usually plays the innocent act, but turns out she’s totally wild behind closed doors, into all sorts of kinky stuff!” The class erupted in whispers. “No way, really? Hazel seems so shy and introverted. She doesn’t look like that kind of person.” “Derek, where did you hear that? You shouldn’t just spread rumors!” Derek stood up, waving his arms, spitting as he spoke. “I saw it with my own two eyes, damn it!” “A few days ago, they were totally getting it on in the media lab, almost got caught. I was the one who distracted the security guard!” “And last night, Ryan and I went to the faculty dorms to find Alistair for something, and I saw Hazel coming out of Alistair’s room, blushing like crazy.” “Her shirt buttons were undone, her cheeks were flushed—” “Ryan, back me up here! I didn’t make up a single word!” Ryan Hayes was Derek’s roommate and our class president. He was a genuinely good guy, often getting breakfast for everyone in their dorm. If anyone in class needed help, he’d be the first to offer. His word usually carried a lot of weight. Hearing Derek, Ryan pushed up his glasses and shook his head. “I didn’t notice anything about her shirt buttons.” “But yes, we did see Hazel coming out of Alistair’s room last night, and her face was pretty red.” “Still, that doesn’t mean anything, Derek. You really shouldn’t spread rumors.” Ryan tried weakly to defend me, his voice quickly drowned out by the rising tide of gossip. “Holy crap, it’s actually true? I can’t believe it. Hazel, of all people!” “You’re blind then. I knew it all along. Her figure? How else do you think she got it? It’s from being all over men. And you guys actually bought into her innocent girl act!” A few guys loudly discussed it, pressing Derek for more details. Derek looked incredibly smug. “This isn’t free info, you know.” “Come on, let’s grab dinner at the street food place. Who’s paying?” They turned around, only to see my face, ashen with fury, standing at the classroom door. Everyone froze as if a remote control had hit the pause button, the chatter dying instantly.

All eyes were on me, like spotlights. I was trembling with rage, my chest burning like fire. Derek looked embarrassed, scratching his head and hooking an arm around a guy next to him. “Alright, let’s go eat!” “Hold it right there!” I stretched out my arm, blocking Derek. “What the hell were you just saying? Say it again, if you dare!” Derek jutted out his chin. “What’s your problem? You can do it, but others can’t talk about it?” “Do what? What did I do? Which eye of yours saw it? Professor Thorne and I clearly have nothing going on, so why are you spreading such disgusting lies?” I was so furious I could barely string a sentence together, demanding Derek show me proof. Derek shoved Ryan forward. “The witness is right here! What more proof do you need?” Ryan frantically waved his hands. “No, I’m not! I only saw Hazel come out. What they did inside the room, I have no idea.” Derek scoffed. “You saw how red her face was, though, didn’t you?” “And her neckline was so low—” He narrowed his eyes, his gaze sliding down from my face to my chest. He held up two fingers, bent at the knuckles, pointing to his own eyes. “My eyes are a ruler, I don’t make mistakes.” The guys burst into lewd laughter. Around me, there were leering, malicious stares and sickening whispers. It felt like hundreds of nails were piercing me. I was so angry I started to cry. “You’re making things up! Come on, you’re coming with me to see Professor Thorne right now!” I reached out to grab Derek’s arm. Derek deliberately pulled back, squirming. “Whoa, hey, don’t touch me like that.” “Alistair will get mad, and I’ll be in trouble.” The laughter grew louder. I wanted to pounce on him and beat him senseless. “You’re full of crap!” “There are school rules against professors and students being in a relationship! Spreading these rumors doesn’t just hurt me, it’ll drag Professor Alistair down too! If he gets fired, it’ll all be your fault!”

Everyone suddenly realized. “Oh, yeah, there’s a rule like that.” “Right, Professor Alistair wouldn’t do something like that, would he?” “Derek, seriously, stop talking nonsense. What if someone from another class hears and reports Professor Alistair?” Derek snorted, trying to justify himself. “I never said you guys were in a relationship! Just a bit of fun, that doesn’t violate school rules, does it?” “Fun my ass!” I couldn’t hold back my anger anymore. I looked around, grabbed a water bottle from a desk, and threw it hard at Derek. Derek yelped in pain, falling off the desk he’d been leaning against. He furiously pushed me back. “Are you insane?!” “I don’t have a ‘no hitting girls’ rule!” He clenched his fist, ready to hit me, but other guys quickly pulled him back. Seeing things escalate, people rushed off to get Professor Alistair. On the way, Professor Alistair had already heard the whole story from Ryan. He was also furious. “What’s all this nonsense?!” “Hazel came to see me yesterday about her scholarship, not your ridiculous fabrications!” Derek was scolded into submission, hanging his head. Professor Alistair told everyone to stop spreading rumors, warning that it would reflect poorly on the university. “I have a girlfriend, you’re all just kids. Don’t believe every whisper you hear and get me fired.” Professor Alistair brought Derek and me to his office. But as soon as the door closed, he frowned and glared at me. “What’s your beef with Derek?” “I know him. He wouldn’t do something like this without a reason.” I stared at him, stunned. “What do you mean, ‘without a reason’? He’s spreading lies about me! Is that my fault?” Professor Alistair crossed his arms, his expression stern. “Why would he single you out and not someone else?” “Sometimes, you need to reflect on your own actions.”

I knew Professor Alistair had always gotten along well with Derek and his friends. But I never expected him to be so unfair. Now, with just the three of us in the office, and no other students around, he was openly siding with Derek. Why was Derek spreading rumors about me? He’d pursued me before, and I’d rejected him. He’d bought me coffee a few times, but I never drank it. I explicitly texted him to stop. “I’m not interested in you at all.” He’d pretended to be magnanimous at the time. “It’s fine, if we can’t be a couple, we can still be friends, right? Just buying a classmate a coffee, no need to be so particular.” I hated to waste the coffees, so my roommates drank them. Later, seeing my firm attitude and realizing he couldn’t get anything from me, Derek completely lost it. First, he demanded I pay him back for the coffees. “Just because you say you didn’t drink them, means you didn’t? Do you have proof?” I couldn’t be bothered arguing, so I PayPal’d him twenty dollars. “Just leave me alone.” He accepted it instantly, then sent back a barrage of insults. “Who are you trying to impress? Like anyone’s desperate for you!” “With those big boobs, I bet you’ve been with countless men.” He spewed endless vile language. I blocked him and never spoke to him again. When we ran into each other in class, I just pretended not to know him. I never thought he’d start spreading such hateful rumors about me. Afraid I’d spill the truth, Derek had also slandered me to Professor Alistair, claiming I’d led him on, played him, wouldn’t be his girlfriend, but still spent his money. He was truly pissed off, he told Professor Alistair. “Professor, I know I was wrong. I just wanted to teach her a lesson, and I ended up dragging you into it.” “I’m sorry.” Professor Alistair patted his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s alright. Young people get heated sometimes, it’s normal.” “But you, Hazel!” Professor Alistair turned and glared at me. “A guy’s feelings are precious. If someone likes you, you should reject them gracefully even if you don’t accept them. Now look at the mess you’ve made. Are you happy?” “You have your own family, why do you need to spend other people’s money? Taking advantage of others like this is a character flaw. As for your scholarship—” “I didn’t!” I loudly protested, explaining there was no financial entanglement between Derek and me; he’d just bought me a few coffees. Before I could finish, Professor Alistair cut me off, his voice sharp and impatient. “Just a few coffees?” “You say that so casually. How much is your monthly allowance, then?” “Coffees nowadays are like five to ten bucks each. Do you think that’s a small amount?” Professor Alistair reprimanded me harshly. Finally, he waved his hand. “Alright, you both share the blame for this. Apologize to each other. You’re classmates, there’s no need to make it so awkward.”

Derek was the one spreading dirty rumors, yet I was the one who had to apologize? I couldn’t accept it, my emotions boiling over. I demanded fairness, threatening to go to the Dean’s office if Professor Alistair was so biased. Professor Alistair’s face darkened. “I guess you don’t want that scholarship anymore, do you?” “I’ve already submitted the list of candidates. Do you think blowing this up will do you any good? Where there’s smoke, there’s fire, Hazel. The school isn’t just going to ignore your reputation and character when reviewing applicants.” “Go ahead and report it, go make a scene. Let’s see if the school leadership will believe your side of the story!” Professor Alistair’s threats immediately made me hesitate. He was a professor, well-liked by students, and everyone was willing to support him. With him siding with Derek, I was on my own. Even if I blew it up, the most I could get was an apology from Derek. But if I alienated Professor Alistair, I could forget about scholarships or any other opportunities in the future. Seeing my hesitant expression, Professor Alistair softened his tone, offering a few more conciliatory words. “Even if you don’t pursue this, I’ll still make Derek write a formal statement to prove my innocence!” “Once that’s submitted, the students will naturally know those were just rumors, and you’ll have achieved your goal. What’s left to complain about?” He winked at Derek. Derek shrugged, reluctantly mumbling an apology to me. “Alright, for Professor Thorne’s sake, I won’t make you apologize to me either. Is that satisfactory?” My heart still felt twisted, but I knew this was the best outcome I could hope for at the moment. Professor Alistair opened his laptop and drafted a written report. It stated that Derek and I had a minor personal disagreement, leading Derek to spread rumors about me, and that Professor Alistair and I had no inappropriate physical relationship whatsoever. The report was printed, and both Derek and I signed it. Professor Alistair nodded, satisfied. “With this, no one will talk about you anymore!” I also thought the matter was over. But I never imagined that this report would become Derek’s accomplice. He was spreading rumors behind my back, even more vigorously than before!

In Derek’s words, he’d already apologized, paid the price, and admitted his mistake to the school. So, what, was he supposed to write another report? He’d just sign it again; it didn’t matter to him. His words grew even more disgusting, spreading everywhere. This time, not just our class, but the entire university was buzzing with gossip. They said Professor Alistair and I had left “battle scars” all over the media lab, in the little grove on campus, by the lake pavilion. So many people were saying it that even my usually supportive roommates started to believe them. One day, my roommate, Chloe, looked troubled, saying she wasn’t sure if her name was on the scholarship list for this semester. Maya, another roommate, glanced at me and chuckled. “What’s the big deal? Just ask Professor Alistair, Hazel.” I was lying on my bed reading, and casually replied, “Why me? Chloe, go ask him yourself.” Maya retorted, “She’s not you, not that close to Professor Alistair. She definitely won’t get anything out of him.” “We’re good roommates, Hazel, just help her out, will you?” Her tone was full of sarcasm. I closed my phone, sat up straight, and stared at Maya’s face. “What do you mean by that?” Maya shrugged. “Whatever you think it means, that’s what it means.” “Just say what you mean!” Seeing my serious expression, Maya’s face hardened. She snorted. “Why are you yelling at me?” “You dare to do it but don’t dare to admit it? It’s not like you can be a slut and still expect a good reputation!” I hadn’t expected Maya to say something so vile. We weren’t incredibly close in the dorm, but we’d never fought before. We’d always been friendly, bringing each other breakfast or drinks. When Derek first started spreading rumors, everyone in the dorm had sided with me. Maya had even put her arm around my shoulder and called him a jerk, telling me to ignore him. It had only been a few days, and she was completely different. My eyes welled up with tears of anger. “You believe Derek’s lies too?” “We both signed Professor Thorne’s report, and Derek admitted he was—” “Oh, please!” Maya interrupted me dismissively. “Who knows if that report even exists? We’ve never seen it!” Chloe chimed in, “Yeah, if Derek really admitted his mistake, why is he still spreading rumors out there?” Seeing me glare at her with red eyes, Chloe flinched, hastily waving her hands. “Of course, Hazel, I’m not saying I don’t believe you.” “It’s just that Derek’s stories are getting more and more outrageous. All the students are saying—it’s what they’re saying, not my opinion—that since Derek made such a fuss and Professor Thorne didn’t deny it, you two are probably really involved.” It was then that I truly understood. This wasn’t over at all. Derek had been busy spreading so many new lies behind my back.

I was so angry I barely slept that night, only drifting off as dawn broke. Naturally, I was late for the first half of my morning lecture. I arrived at the classroom just as class broke for a short recess. Before I even stepped inside, I heard Derek’s sarcastic voice again. “Hazel’s not here? Why, that’s obvious! Too tired from last night’s ‘battle’, right?” “Haven’t you guys noticed Professor Alistair has lost weight recently? She’s clearly too much for him!” The guys roared with laughter. A few asked him what Professor Alistair said when he took me and Derek to his office. *Didn’t Hazel say you guys even wrote a report proving nothing happened between her and Alistair?* Derek just scoffed. “Professor Alistair is so good to us. We can’t let him lose his job, can we?” “What really happened? If you know, you know!” The chatter grew even more offensive. I stood outside the door, alternately cold and hot, my heart frozen, but blood rushing to my head. I stormed into the classroom, directly swung my arm, and slapped Derek hard across the face. Derek, whose butt was resting on a desk, was sent sprawling to the floor by the force of my slap. I shrieked, my voice hoarse. “You’re full of crap! You’re lying!” I was crying uncontrollably. The lecturer, who had just returned from the restroom, was startled to see such a commotion. He immediately stopped class and escorted me and Derek to Professor Alistair’s office. Crying, I accused Derek of not backing down, but instead continuing to spread rumors. The gossip was even more outrageous than before, so much so that even my roommates were now mocking me. Professor Alistair, however, seemed unconcerned. “People will talk, Hazel. How can you control what others say?” “We both know the truth in our hearts. That’s all that matters.” I froze, looking up in disbelief. “How can I not care? I’m a girl, and they’re saying—” “An innocent person doesn’t need to explain themselves!” Professor Alistair’s face showed his impatience. “Your roommates live with you. They should know your daily routine, whether you go out, whether you do anything wrong. If even they don’t believe you, it means you’re not doing enough to maintain your reputation, doesn’t it? What’s the big deal if people say a few things?” “Alright, we already dealt with this. Don’t bother me with these insignificant matters again!” “If you keep making a fuss, you’ll both get a disciplinary warning!” Derek loudly cried injustice. “Professor, it wasn’t me! She’s the one who’s making a scene!” “You watch your mouth too, Derek. Alright, alright, both of you out!” Professor Alistair even said that with so many rumors, he was a victim too, so why didn’t *he* care? It was just me, too narrow-minded and unable to let go, he suggested I focus more on my studies and less on trivial gossip. How could it be the same? Rumors like this always affect women more severely. Everyone behind my back was calling me a slut and a tramp, but when they talked about Professor Alistair, they praised him, calling him a legend, lucky. With that report, he could account for himself to the school administration, and this whole affair wouldn’t affect his career. Ultimately, I was the only victim. It was at this moment that I fully realized. To stop these rumors, I had to rely on myself.

I prepared a voice recorder. This time, when Derek, with all his embellishments, once again spread a dirty rumor about me. After recording him, I walked directly up to him and grabbed his arm. “You’re right!” “I definitely slept with Professor Alistair last night!” The entire class gasped. Everyone’s eyes widened, mouths agape, looking utterly astonished. “Holy crap, Hazel actually admitted it?” I nodded calmly. “Yes, I don’t think Derek would just say these things for no reason.” “Professor Alistair must have told him everything behind the scenes.” “Last night, I did go to Professor Alistair’s dorm to give him some documents.” “I remember I wasn’t there for long before I left, but Derek said I was there for a full two hours!” “That’s definitely suspicious. I suspect I was drugged and assaulted by Professor Alistair without my knowledge!” No sooner had I spoken than several uniformed police officers walked into the classroom. “Who called the police?” I immediately burst into tears. “Officer, it was me!” I gripped Derek’s arm tightly. “I have a witness! Last night, our professor drugged and assaulted me!” Derek’s eyes almost popped out of his head. “Holy hell, Hazel! What are you calling the cops for? Are you out of your mind?!” This time, before I could speak, one of the tall female officers sternly reprimanded Derek. “Rape is a serious felony offense. What do you mean ‘just a little thing’?” Derek froze, then stammered, “That’s not what I meant.” Crying, I explained what happened last night. I said I went to see the professor, we only exchanged a few words, I handed over one page of documents, and I didn’t even drink a glass of water. At most, it couldn’t have been more than ten minutes. But Derek insisted he saw me lingering in the professor’s room for two hours. When I came out, I was stumbling, my legs wide apart. “I must have been drugged by the professor, and he took advantage of me while I was unconscious! Luckily, Derek saw it! Officer, please help me get justice!” Derek quickly denied it. “I never said that!” I pointed to the other students. “He did! I have a voice recorder, and everyone in the classroom just heard him! All these people here are witnesses!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299222”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My Husband’s Bestie Wants to “Unlock” Him on Our Wedding Night On our wedding night, my husband, Ryan Peterson, knelt before me in his pristine suit, begging me for just one thing. He wanted me to call his female best friend, Blair Hayes, who he’d practically grown up with, claiming only she could “unlock” him. Only then, he insisted, could we truly be together. His eyes were bloodshot, his handsome face etched with pleading, as if *I* were the villain destroying their sacred bond. I stared at him, and a bitter laugh bubbled up. Before the wedding, Blair had said, half-joking, in front of everyone: “Chloe, Ryan’s first time was actually mine. Hope you don’t mind, sweetie.” Back then, I thought it was just a joke. Now, it seems I was just incredibly naive. 0 “Chloe, please, just this once. After this, I’ll do anything you say.” Ryan was on his knees on our million-dollar wedding bed, clutching my hand. His grip was so tight it felt like he was trying to crush my bones. His handsome face was slick with sweat. His eyes held no desire, only a desperate, almost broken plea. We had just finished our wedding, the guests’ blessings still echoing in my ears. But in our meticulously decorated bridal suite, the atmosphere was colder than a freezer. “Ryan, say that again.” I wrenched my hand free, my voice low but dripping with ice. He seemed to miss the danger in my tone, instead clinging to it like a lifeline, repeating urgently: “Chloe, please call Blair. She said she has a way… she said she can help me ‘unlock’ myself. You know, I… I’m a little nervous, and I don’t want our first time to be anything less than perfect.” “Unlock?” I chewed on the word, finding it both absurd and utterly disgusting. “Unlock what? Ryan, are you losing your mind or am I hearing things? Tonight is our wedding night!” “It’s a psychological lock!” He was sweating profusely, agitated. “I… I have a bit of a psychological block, and only Blair can guide me through it! Chloe, we’ve been together for years, how can you bear to see me like this?” Looking at him, a chilling dread seeped into my bones, shooting straight up to my scalp. We were college sweethearts, together for five years. He was the universally acclaimed model boyfriend – gentle, attentive, from a wealthy family, almost always accommodating to my every whim. The only exception was Blair. Blair was his childhood bestie, a woman who lived by her own rules, more unrestrained than most men. She knew her way around a cigarette and a shot glass, and always had guys wrapped around her finger. Ryan always claimed his friendship with Blair was pure, closer than siblings. I used to believe him. Until that bachelorette party before the wedding. Blair got drunk, drunkenly slung an arm around my neck and said, half-joking, half-serious: “Chloe, Ryan’s first time was actually mine. We were just experimenting back then, hope you don’t mind.” My friends all thought it was a joke. Even Ryan just laughed it off, patting her on the back and saying she was drunk and talking nonsense. But that comment had lodged itself deep in my mind, a tiny, annoying thorn. Now, that thorn wasn’t just lodged there; it was churning wildly, tearing me apart from the inside. “So, what you’re saying is, without Blair, you can’t touch me tonight? Is that it?” I stared into his eyes, enunciating each word slowly. Ryan evaded my gaze, his lips moving for what felt like an eternity before he finally whimpered: “Chloe, it’s not what you think! Just help me out this once, okay?” Help him? I was trembling with rage, reaching for the red wine glass on the table, ready to splash it across his handsome face. But before I could even move, the doorbell chimed, sharp and sudden. Ryan’s eyes lit up, as if he’d heard the sweetest sound. He scrambled off the bed and rushed to open the door. “Blair, you finally came!” Standing outside was indeed Blair. She was clad in a tight black leather outfit, accentuating her fierce figure. A slender lady’s cigarette dangled from her lips, its crimson glow flickering at her fingertips. She didn’t even look at Ryan. Her gaze swept past him and landed squarely on me. That look, it was as if she was seeing a loser who had dared to take her place. She took the cigarette from her mouth, slowly blew a smoke ring towards Ryan’s face, her voice languid and intimate. “What, can’t manage without me?” 0

In front of Blair, Ryan was like a puppy begging for a treat, nodding frantically: “No, Blair, I really can’t. Please, you have to help me.” Blair sauntered into the room, making herself at home as if this were her own territory. She took off her leather gloves, tossing them casually onto the entryway cabinet. Her eyes scanned my carefully chosen wedding decorations, a faint, almost imperceptible sneer playing on her lips. “Chloe, looks like you’re not as capable as you think, can’t even handle your own husband.” She walked right up to me, looking triumphant, her contempt undisguised. I sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing my expensive silk nightgown, feeling utterly ridiculous. “Blair, this is my room, my wedding night. Please leave.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but my trembling fingertips betrayed my fury. “Your room?” Blair scoffed as if I’d said the funniest thing. She turned to Ryan. “Ryan, tell her. Who bought this house?” Ryan’s face flushed crimson, then drained of color. He stammered: “Blair, don’t… don’t be like this…” “Like what?” Blair cut him off, her voice suddenly turning ice-cold. “When you bought this house, who dragged you to every corner of the city? Who helped you with the interior design? What did Chloe do, besides move her bags in?” With every word, she took another step closer to me. “Even the engagement ring you gave her, *I* helped you pick out. Ryan, what do you even have without me?” Ryan hung his head, unable to meet her gaze, like a scolded child. It all became clear to me then. This wasn’t some bullshit “unlocking.” This was a blatant, outright humiliation. Blair wanted to use the most brutal method on my most important day to show me who truly held power over Ryan. “Are you done?” I stood up. Though half a head shorter than Blair, I refused to let her intimidate me. “When you’re done, get out.” “What did you say?” Blair narrowed her eyes, a dangerous aura radiating from her. “I said, get out.” I walked up to her, meeting her gaze head-on. “No matter who bought this house, the deed now bears Ryan’s name and mine. I am the lady of this house, and I have every right to tell you to leave.” I paused, then turned to the trembling man. “And you, Ryan. Either you make her leave now, or you can leave with her.” The air instantly froze. Ryan stared at me in disbelief, clearly not expecting such a definitive statement from a woman he thought was always docile. Blair was stunned for a moment, then let out a derisive laugh. She reached out and patted Ryan’s cheek, an intimately possessive gesture, like soothing a pet. “Tsk, tsk. Look at you, married and suddenly got wings. Ryan, choose. Are you going to listen to your wife, or to me?” She threw the choice at Ryan, utterly certain he would pick her. Ryan’s face shifted through shades of uncertainty in the lamplight. He looked at me, then at Blair, his forehead beaded with sweat. When he was nervous, he always unconsciously rubbed the wedding band on his ring finger – the one Blair had helped him pick out. The few seconds of silence felt like an eternity. Finally, he slowly lifted his head, looked at me, and spoke in a hoarse voice: “Chloe, don’t make a scene. Let Blair help me… just this once.” My heart, in that moment, plummeted to rock bottom. “Fine.” I nodded, a bright smile spreading across my face. “Since you need her so much, I’ll make sure you have her.” I walked to the door, pulled it open, and gestured outside. “The bed’s all yours. I’ll close the door behind me. Have a happy wedding night, you two.” With that, under their stunned gaze, I slammed the bridal suite door shut with a resounding *bang*. I locked that pair of dogs inside. 0

I didn’t go far. I leaned against the cold hallway wall, listening to the commotion inside. At first, it was Ryan’s startled shouts and Blair’s curses, then their frantic pounding on the door. “Chloe! Open the door! Are you crazy!” Ryan’s voice held a hint of anger. “What the hell is wrong with you! Chloe, open this door!” That was Blair’s voice, still arrogant. I smirked, pulled out my phone, and opened a SnapChat group called “Loving Family.” It contained all of Ryan’s relatives, including his notoriously image-conscious parents. I took a deep breath, composed a message, and hit send. “Aunt and Uncle, dear relatives, I apologize for disturbing you so late. Ryan and my wedding has encountered a small unexpected incident. Ryan… he might need some special assistance to complete our wedding night, so he invited his good friend Miss Blair Hayes to our bridal suite. I believe such a wonderful event should be shared with everyone, so I’ve decided to let them have the bridal suite to ‘deepen their bond.’ Good night, everyone.” The moment the message went out, the group exploded. Dozens of unread messages flashed wildly, but I ignored them, switching my phone to silent. Then, I dialed the hotel front desk. “Hello, I’m Chloe, room 1808. Two people I don’t know have entered my room and locked me out. I suspect they are intruders. Please send security immediately to handle this. Thank you.” After doing all that, I finally felt the knot of rage in my chest ease a little. Soon, hotel security and the manager arrived. They looked at me, the bride still in her nightgown, with expressions of shock and sympathy. The pounding from inside the room continued; Ryan’s angry shouts had turned into desperate pleas. “Chloe, I’m sorry, please open the door! What will people think if they see us like this!” I spread my hands to the manager, an innocent look on my face. “Manager, you hear that? They’re still threatening me in there. I’m so scared.” The manager, a sensible middle-aged man, immediately signaled security to use their master key card to open the door. The moment the door swung open, I deliberately stepped back, giving the security guards and the manager the best vantage point. Ryan was standing at the doorway, his shirt half-unbuttoned. Blair, meanwhile, was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking annoyed, the unsmoked cigarette still between her fingers. The scene was as intimate as it was scandalous, as awkward as it was ugly. “Mr. Peterson, Mrs. Peterson, what in the—” The hotel manager’s expression was priceless. Ryan’s face instantly drained of all color. He never in his wildest dreams imagined I would blow things up this spectacularly. Blair, however, was calmer than him. She stubbed out her cigarette and stood up. She calmly adjusted her leather outfit, looking at me with eyes like poisoned daggers. “Chloe, you’re ruthless.” “Compliment accepted.” I smiled back. “Compared to you two, I still have a long way to go.” Just then, Ryan’s phone began to ring furiously. He answered with a trembling hand, and his father’s furious roar could be heard clearly throughout the entire hallway. “Ryan Peterson! You animal! Look at what you’ve done in the family group chat! You and that Blair, now, immediately, get home!” Ryan’s legs buckled, almost sending him to his knees. He hung up, looking at me in utter despair, muttering: “It’s over… everything’s over…” Blair’s face finally changed too. She might not care about Ryan, but she cared about the Peterson family’s power and money. She strode quickly to me, lowering her voice, gritting her teeth. “You think this wins you anything? Chloe, you’re too naive. Ryan can’t live without me, never will.” With that, she grabbed a still-stunned Ryan and, under everyone’s bewildered stares, fled in shame. Watching their desperate retreat, I felt no thrill of victory, only an overwhelming sense of exhaustion and sorrow. I returned to the bridal suite, which now felt completely defiled. The air still reeked of Blair’s cheap perfume and cigarette smoke. I walked to the bedside table and picked up our wedding photo. In the picture, Ryan smiled gently, and I was beaming with happiness. How utterly ironic. I didn’t hesitate, smashing the frame violently to the floor. The sound of shattering glass felt like a eulogy for five years of my youth. 0

I woke up the next morning in another hotel room. My phone was flooded with missed calls and unread messages—from Ryan, from his parents. And from some gossip-hungry relatives. I didn’t reply to a single one, blocking all of Ryan’s contacts directly. Then, I called my lawyer friend. “Hey, Jessica, can you draft a divorce agreement for me?” Jessica was silent for a few seconds, then erupted with incredible energy: “Holy crap! Chloe, you finally came to your senses? Is that dog Ryan messing around with his ‘best friend’ again? I knew there was something fishy between them! Hang on, I’ll send you the most badass divorce agreement ever, I promise he’ll walk away with absolutely nothing!” After hanging up, I felt a huge weight lift from my chest. Divorce was the only way out. I didn’t want any more entanglement with those two. In the afternoon, I went back to “our” bridal suite to collect my belongings. The apartment was empty. But by the entryway, Blair’s black leather gloves were still lying there, as if staking her claim. I put on disposable gloves, picked up the gloves with distaste, and tossed them straight into the trash. While packing my personal items, I discovered a locked drawer in Ryan’s study. I’d never paid attention to it before, but now, the locked drawer seemed exceptionally suspicious. I found tools and, without a moment’s hesitation, pried the lock open. Inside, there were no love letters or ambiguous gifts as I might have imagined. Only an old USB drive and a small velvet box. I opened the box. Inside was a unique men’s earring, set with a black diamond. It looked familiar. I suddenly remembered that Blair had an identical piercing in her right earlobe, though she rarely wore earrings. A bad feeling crept into my heart. I plugged the USB drive into my laptop. There was only one video file on it, the filename a string of dates. I clicked play. The footage was a bit shaky, like it was secretly recorded. The background seemed to be a university art studio. Ryan and Blair were both in it, looking much younger than they did now. In the video, Blair held a utility knife, pressing it against her wrist, her eyes wild and obsessive. “Ryan, you promised me! You’d always listen to me! Are you going back on your word for Chloe now?” Ryan was on his knees, sobbing and begging her: “Blair, don’t do this, I’m scared… I truly like Chloe, can’t we just be normal friends?” “Normal friends?” Blair sneered. “I’ve done so much for you, and now you call us normal friends? Have you forgotten who helped you fake depression to stay when your parents wanted to send you abroad? Have you forgotten who knelt before the dean when you were disciplined by the school? Ryan, you are my dog! If I tell you to go east, do you dare to go west?” She lightly grazed her wrist with the knife tip, creating a shallow cut that bled faintly. Ryan completely broke down. He was begging profusely, head almost hitting the floor. “I wouldn’t dare! Blair, I’ll never dare again! I’ll do anything you want, just put the knife down!” Blair looked at him, a satisfied, even cruel smile spreading across her face. She tossed the knife aside, cupped Ryan’s face, and commanded him like a queen: “Remember, your body, your mind, everything about you is mine. Without my permission, you cannot touch any woman. Your body will become dependent on me, like a drug. Without me, you’re just useless.” She finished, then took out the black diamond earring from her pocket and personally put it in Ryan’s left ear. “This is your brand, your ‘lock.’ From now on, only I can ‘unlock’ you.” The video ended there, abruptly. I sat on the chair, completely chilled to the bone. So, this was the truth. This wasn’t simple infidelity, nor some trashy love triangle drama. This was a years-long, twisted, horrifying case of psychological control and mental abuse. Ryan didn’t love Blair; he feared her. He had been completely molded into a puppet with no will of his own. And I? I was nothing more than an innocent casualty in their sick game. A tool used to test Ryan’s loyalty. I suddenly felt nauseous. I closed the laptop, put the USB drive and the earring away. These would be the most powerful pieces of evidence I could present in court. 0

As soon as I stepped out of the apartment complex, I saw Ryan’s car parked by the curb. He spotted me and immediately rushed over, grabbing my arm, his eyes bloodshot. “Chloe, you finally came out! Please, let me explain, it’s not what you think!” “Oh? Then what is it?” I looked at him calmly, my heart completely undisturbed. “I… Blair and I really have nothing going on! She’s just… just helping me with psychological therapy!” He was still spouting that ridiculous excuse. “Psychological therapy?” I held up the USB drive, shaking it in front of him. “Like the kind in this video, where she threatens you with a knife and calls you her dog?” The moment Ryan saw the USB drive, the color drained from his face completely, as if he’d seen a ghost. “You… how do you have that?” His voice trembled, his eyes filled with terror. “What, afraid I’d see you begging on your knees?” I pulled my arm free from his grasp, stepping back to maintain my distance. “Ryan, you’re pathetic.” “No! It’s not like that! Chloe!” He seemed provoked, lunging at me in a frantic, emotional outburst. “Give me that! Give it to me now!” I was prepared, sidestepping him. He missed, falling awkwardly to the ground. Just then, a flashy red sports car pulled up beside us. The window rolled down, revealing Blair’s exquisitely made-up face. She took off her sunglasses, looking at Ryan on the ground with no hint of concern, only disdain. “Useless trash.” She got out of the car, clicked her ten-centimeter heels, and walked up to me. “Give me the drive. Name your price.” She always spoke so directly. “What if my price is to ruin both your reputations?” I countered. Blair’s face hardened. “Chloe, don’t push your luck. You think a crappy video can take me down? You’re too naive. I advise you to know when you’re beaten, take a nice chunk of cash, and disappear.” “Cash?” I laughed. “Do you think I’m short on cash? What I lack is justice.” “Justice?” Blair scoffed as if I’d uttered the funniest joke of the century. “In this city, *I*, Blair Hayes, am justice.” She snapped her fingers. Two men in black suits emerged from the sports car, closing in on me from either side. “I’m giving you one last chance. Hand over the USB drive.” Her voice was full of menace. I clutched the USB drive tightly, my mind racing. Going head-to-head, I was certainly no match for them. I looked at her, suddenly changing my strategy, a flicker of panic on my face. “What are you trying to do? In broad daylight, are you trying to rob me?” Blair seemed satisfied by my apparent “compliance.” She raised her chin. “You can try calling the cops. See if they believe you, or the Hayes family’s legal team.” Just as the bodyguards’ hands were about to reach me, I suddenly threw the USB drive with all my might towards the other side of the road. “Want it? Go pick it up yourself!” Everyone’s attention was drawn to the flying USB drive. Blair’s face contorted. She immediately yelled: “Go get it!” The two bodyguards and Ryan rushed towards the road without a second thought. And I, seizing the opportunity, turned and ran. I heard the screech of brakes and screams from the crowd behind me, but I didn’t look back. I couldn’t look back. I sprinted, running until I reached a subway station before I dared to stop and gasp for air. My heart pounded fiercely, half from terror, half from… exhilaration. Blair, do you really think you’ve won? The game has only just begun. That USB drive I threw? It was empty. The real video, the moment I discovered it, had already been uploaded to the cloud. And sent, encrypted, to my lawyer.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299221”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My Parking Spot, My Fury My parking spot. Karen claimed it every single day. She even ranted in the community SnapChat, calling me “selfish” right to my face. I’d had enough. It was time for her to taste true despair. I bought a junk car and personally welded it into my parking spot. Now, that spot was mine, and mine alone, forever. 0 Seven PM. The city was fractured by a sudden downpour. Rain lashed against the car windows, a relentless drumming, like countless tiny ice needles piercing my eardrums. I drove slowly, navigating into the apartment complex’s underground garage. The warm yellow lights blurred in the damp air, casting fuzzy patches of light on the cold concrete. Turning the final corner, my heart plummeted. That familiar spot. My deeded parking spot, B-77, the one I’d shelled out three hundred grand for. Again, it was occupied by a white BMW X5. The car sat there like a fat, arrogant white beast, defiantly sprawled across my space. Its front end was aggressively angled outwards, as if proclaiming ownership. It was Karen’s car, my upstairs neighbor. And this was the fourth time in two weeks she’d treated my private space like her personal, free parking lot. The air in my car suddenly felt thin. It was like a boulder was pressing down on my chest, each breath a dull ache. I switched off the engine. All that remained was the drumbeat of rain on the roof and the escalating thump of my own heart. I grabbed my phone, fingers whitening from the grip, and tapped on her familiar profile picture. I snapped a photo of her car brazenly occupying my spot, B-77 clearly visible in the frame, and sent it. Swallowing the fiery anger in my throat, I typed out the message, word for word: “Karen, please move your car.” Sent. “Read” immediately popped up in small gray letters on the screen. I stared at those four letters, waiting. One minute. Five minutes. Ten minutes. The phone screen dimmed, then brightened, then dimmed again. The chat box remained eerily silent. No reply. I took a deep breath and dialed her number. “Beep… beep… beep…” After a dozen rings, the call was curtly disconnected. In that instant, I could almost picture Karen’s annoyed expression on the other end. Not giving up, I dialed a second time. This time, it rang twice before being cut off again. The third time, it went straight to voicemail. “Hello, the number you have dialed is currently busy…” The cold, automated voice seemed to mock my futile efforts. I tossed my phone onto the passenger seat and leaned back heavily into the headrest, staring up at the ceiling. The garage’s damp, cold air, mingled with the smell of exhaust and dust, seeped in through the window cracks, enveloping me. I gave up. I restarted the car, turned around, and drove out of the garage, heading for the hourly outdoor parking lot outside the complex. After parking, I didn’t bother with an umbrella. The icy rain instantly soaked my hair and shirt, clinging to my skin and making me shiver. I walked home step by agonizing step, the streetlights stretching my shadow long and distorted. Every step felt like I was treading on broken glass. Entering the building, the elevator doors slowly opened. Just as I was about to step inside, I saw Karen’s latest Ins update. A photo of her, her husband Chad, and their ten-year-old son, all beaming, gathered around a table piled high with king crab and Boston lobsters. The location was tagged at the city’s most upscale seafood restaurant. The caption read: “Hard work pays off! Enjoying the good life!” In the picture, Karen, wearing immaculate makeup, held a glass of red wine, smiling charmingly at the camera. A wave of nausea hit me. Her “good life” was built on treating my parking spot like a trash can and my goodwill like dirt. Fury surged through my veins like molten lava, almost erupting from my eyes. But I didn’t let it. I simply walked into the elevator with a blank expression and pressed my floor. The mirrored elevator walls reflected my wet, pathetic reflection, and my bloodless face. I decided to give her one last chance to be decent. I went to the property management office. Mr. Henderson, the property manager, was a smarmy man in his forties with a noticeable beer belly, plastering on a fake smile. “Alex, this… this is a private dispute between residents. It’s hard for us to intervene forcibly.” He rubbed his hands together, looking troubled. “I bought a deeded parking spot. I have the title. Her actions are an infringement.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “Yes, yes, we know. We’ll call her to mediate, we’ll definitely mediate.” He dialed Karen’s number right in front of me. This time, the call connected. I could clearly hear Karen’s sharp, impatient voice from the other end, mixed with the restaurant’s clamor and her son’s shouting. “Hello! Who is this?! So annoying!” Mr. Henderson discreetly lowered the speaker volume, then spoke into the phone with a fawning smile: “Karen, it’s Mr. Henderson from property management. The owner of B-77, Alex, said you’re parked in his spot. Would it be convenient for you to move your car?” Silence for a few seconds on the other end, then an even more grating shriek. “Just parking for a bit! What’s with the rush? Is he trying to kill me?! Tell him I’ll move it after dinner! Will his crappy car die if it waits a little? Being so selfish, he’ll die early!” Her voice was so loud that even I, standing beside him, heard every word clearly. Mr. Henderson’s face turned beet red, and he looked at me awkwardly. I ignored him, took his phone, and spoke into the receiver in a voice so cold it sounded alien even to me: “Ms. Smith, I’m informing you one more time. That is my private, deeded parking spot, which I paid three hundred thousand dollars for. It’s not a public area. Please move your car immediately.” “Who are you?! You—” She didn’t finish her sentence. I pressed the hang-up button. I handed the phone back to Mr. Henderson and turned to leave. Back home, I stripped off my soaked clothes and stood under the shower. The scalding hot water washed over my body, but couldn’t wash away the bone-deep chill in my heart. Just then, my phone vibrated furiously in the living room. Messages from the community group chat. I dried myself, walked out, and picked up my phone. Tapping open “Happy Homeowners,” the SnapChat group with 500 members, Karen’s name was flashing frantically on the screen. She had sent a 60-second voice message. I tapped play. Her tearful voice filled the quiet room. “Everyone, please be my judge! I just temporarily parked in a neighbor’s spot, and he’s being so persistent! Calling me, finding the property manager—a grown man harassing a woman, is there no justice?!” I watched as some unsuspecting neighbors in the chat began to echo her, accusing me of “going too far” and being “unreasonable.” I clenched my phone. The last flicker of warmth in my eyes, behind the lenses, was completely extinguished. Any last shred of decency, she had shredded herself. Fine. 0

The community SnapChat, an online community of hundreds of strangers, had, in that moment, become Karen’s personal stage. Like an actress suffering an immense grievance, she tearfully accused me of “atrocities.” She screenshot our chat history about me asking her to move her car and posted it in the group. But she was clever enough to only include my polite “Please move your car,” omitting the half-hour I waited and the fact that she had read but not replied. Slandering others was her specialty. She @mentioned everyone, typing in a tone of indignant fury. “Everyone, look at this! All because of this, he called me three times like a madman, and even went to the property manager to complain! Making such a big deal out of ‘ownership’ – is it really necessary? Our complex is so big, and the spot was empty. What’s wrong with helping each other out? We’re neighbors, aren’t we? Shouldn’t we look out for each other? But people these days, they have no human decency!” Her performance was a success. Immediately, a few familiar IDs—her usual crew from the neighborhood, probably her coffee buddies—jumped in to back her up. “Exactly! Karen, don’t bother with him. Men like that are always so petty, no class!” “A grown man squabbling with a woman over a parking spot, so embarrassing!” “Alex, is it? Young man, don’t be so impulsive. It’s better to be friendly with your neighbors.” Each seemingly conciliatory remark, actually designed to take sides, felt like a blunt knife slowly carving into my nerves. I stared at the phone screen, my fingers hovering over the cold glass for a long time. Then, I calmly opened my photo album. I uploaded every single photo from the past two weeks, documenting each time she had illegally occupied my parking spot. I screenshot my three call attempts, clearly marking the times they were disconnected. I also uploaded the video I’d taken in the property management office of Mr. Henderson’s call with her. Finally, I added a single sentence. “@Karen, is this what you call ‘just parking for a bit’?” The evidence was undeniable, the logic crystal clear. I thought, *now she’ll have nothing to say*. But I had utterly underestimated her shamelessness. The group chat fell silent for a few seconds. Then, Karen immediately flared up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. Completely ignoring my evidence, she cleverly shifted the topic and launched into a personal attack. “What do you mean?! You’re taking pictures of me?! Recording me?! You’re a single man, always alone, so dark and gloomy – who knows what your intentions are! Are you trying to pull something on me?!” That accusation, a dirty, heavy weight, was flung at me. “The spot was empty anyway, I thought I was ‘warming it up’ for you, to keep the dust off. And you’re not happy about it? Seriously, I was doing you a favor, and you’re treating it like I just insulted your mother!” “Warming it up”? Her bizarre logic actually made me laugh, a bitter, humorless laugh. Just then, a new profile picture popped up. It was Karen’s husband, Chad. He sent a voice message to the group, his voice slurred with alcohol and an air of condescending arrogance. “Alex, is it? This is Chad, Karen’s husband. Young man, don’t be so petty. It’s just a parking spot, why make such a scene? Tell you what, I’ll PayPal you two hundred dollars for parking tomorrow, and we’ll call it even. No need to act like enemies when we see each other in the elevator.” Two hundred dollars. A pathetic handout. His tone, trying to buy my silence, disgusted me more than any direct insult. My fury, at that moment, ignited completely. I typed my reply, word for word. “First, this parking spot is my private property. Not for rent, not for sale. Second, please instruct your wife to move her car from my spot immediately. Third, if you want respect, earn it yourself. Don’t expect me to give it to you.” My reply was like a depth charge, blowing up the group chat. Chad probably hadn’t expected me to talk back so directly. He didn’t say another word. But Karen completely lost it. She unleashed a barrage of the most vile, venomous insults in the chat, flooding the screen. “You scumbag! Will guarding that pathetic parking spot make you rich or help you breed?!” “You ungrateful piece of trash! Who do you think you are?!” “I think you’re a pervert! You deserve to have no wife! You deserve to be single your whole life!” On the phone screen, those filthy words crawled up like maggots. The group chat was dead silent. No one came forward to “mediate” anymore. They were all silently lurking, enjoying the online lynching Karen was unilaterally performing. I watched the insults, not replying a single word. Because I knew, arguing with a madwoman was the most foolish thing in the world. I calmly exited the community SnapChat. Then, I opened my browser and, in the search bar, calmly typed three words. “Junk car.” What I wanted was never an argument or an explanation. What I wanted was for her, and for them, to truly, unequivocally, feel what despair tasted like. **[PAYWALL]** 0

The city sank into its deepest sleep at three AM. All was silent, save for a few lonely streetlights casting faint yellow glows on the wet asphalt. A massive tow truck, like a silent steel beast, glided quietly into our complex’s underground garage. Behind the tow truck, chained with thick iron, was a car. A Santana. A dilapidated Santana, its paint peeling, riddled with rust, missing even one of its rearview mirrors – a vehicle on the brink of being scrapped. I’d bought it for two thousand dollars from a junkyard owner. The owner had looked at me like I was insane. I took a day off work and personally handled the ownership transfer. Now, this rundown Santana was legally, completely, mine. I directed the tow truck driver to precisely position this junk car in my parking spot, B-77. Karen’s white BMW X5 still sat there like an arrogant princess, deep within my spot. And my Santana, like a loyal but ugly guard, was now squarely blocking her car’s front end. Bumper to bumper, with barely ten centimeters separating them. This distance made it absolutely impossible for her to drive out. After completing the task, the tow truck driver gave me a complex look, a mix of curiosity and pity. Then he drove his empty truck, disappearing into the darkness. The garage returned to its dead silence. Only me and my two cars remained. I walked to my own car, opened the trunk. Inside, everything I had prepared lay quietly. A small, yet powerful inverter welding machine. Several steel plates, over a centimeter thick. A bundle of sturdy angle irons. And my complete protective gear – a welding mask, gloves, fire-resistant suit. On the surface, I was a mechanical structural engineer, spending my days drafting designs, living a nine-to-five life. But few knew that modifying machinery and metal welding were my true passions. In college, I was the champion of the school’s welding competition. I elegantly donned my protective suit, put on the thick gloves. Finally, I lowered the black welding mask. *Bzzzzz—* The welding machine hummed, a low thrumming sound that echoed distinctly in the cavernous garage. I pulled out the welding torch, clamped on a welding rod. *Sizzle—* A blinding blue arc instantly cut through the darkness, illuminating everything around it like broad daylight. Sparks flew, like a grand, silent fireworks display. I securely welded the first steel plate between the junk Santana’s chassis and the ground. The weld seam was even, dense, and solid. I wasn’t just welding it on. I was meticulously designing every weld point, every connecting structure, using my professional expertise. With angle irons and steel plates, I permanently fused the Santana’s four wheel hubs to the concrete floor of the parking spot. This was a masterpiece. A masterpiece born of cold fury and absolute rationality. Unless they used an industrial-grade plasma cutter, or literally tore up this section of the garage floor, This car would stand here forever. Like a monument. A monument to Karen’s arrogance and my rage. At five AM, I finished all my work. I took off my protective gear and packed away my tools. Like an engineer who’d just finished a complex machine, I surveyed my masterpiece with satisfaction. The old Santana, under the dim lights, looked so ugly, yet so indestructible. I went home, took a shower, and even had the presence of mind to brew myself a cup of coffee. At precisely seven-thirty AM, my phone rang. It was Karen. The moment I answered, her voice, distorted with rage, pierced my eardrums. “Alex! You psychopath! You lunatic! What did you do to my car!” I held the phone away from my ear, walked to the window, and pulled back the curtain. Down below, at the garage entrance, Karen was wearing her pajamas, her hair disheveled. She was pointing at my window, bouncing up and down like a madwoman. I took a sip of my coffee, my voice as calm as if I were discussing the weather. “Ms. Smith, please mind your language. That Santana, it’s my car.” “Parked in my parking spot, which I own.” “Is there a problem?” She was so choked up she couldn’t speak for a moment, only managing incoherent “you-you-you” sounds. A few seconds later, she found a new threat. “I’m calling the police! I’m going to have them arrest you!” “Welcome.” I said blandly. “It’ll be good for the officers to come and judge for themselves, to see why your BMW is in my private, deeded parking spot.” “And while they’re at it, they can admire my newly acquired Santana.” With that, I hung up. I watched her frantic, almost broken figure below, a cold, thin smile playing on my lips. Don’t rush. The game has just begun. 0

Karen did call the police, of course. Less than half an hour later, a patrol car, lights flashing, pulled up to the complex entrance. Two police officers, led by Mr. Henderson, came down to the garage. The garage was already crowded with early-morning commuters, all buzzing about the welded-down Santana and the trapped BMW. I walked down calmly, dressed in a neat shirt and slacks, holding a file folder. The moment Karen saw me, she lunged forward like a madwoman. “Officers! It’s him! This lunatic blocked my car! Arrest him!” I stepped aside, easily evading her. The lead officer looked at me, then at the solidly welded Santana, his brow furrowed. “Did you do this?” he asked. “Yes, Officer.” I opened my file folder and handed him my ID, my parking spot deed, and the Santana’s registration and transfer documents, one by one. “This Santana is my legal property. This parking spot is also my legal property. I am parking my own car in my own space. This is not illegal.” The officer meticulously verified the documents, then walked to the car, tapping the welded steel plates with his hand, producing a dull metallic thud. He turned back to Karen’s BMW. “Ma’am, why is your car parked in someone else’s deeded parking spot?” Karen’s face cycled through shades of red and white as she stammered: “I… I was just parking temporarily…” “Temporarily parking?” I scoffed, pulled out my phone, and played the voice recording of her insulting me in the community group chat. “You cheapskate! Will guarding that pathetic parking spot make you rich?! You deserve to be single your whole life!” Karen’s venomous voice echoed in the garage, and the onlookers let out a suppressed gasp. The officers’ expressions grew serious. Finally, the lead officer handed me back my documents and said to Karen: “Ma’am, we’ve verified that this is indeed Mr. Smith’s private parking spot. Your vehicle was illegally occupying his private space first. As for him using his other vehicle to block yours, this falls under a civil dispute.” “The police cannot forcibly intervene. We recommend that both parties resolve this through negotiation or legal channels.” With that, they packed up and left. Karen collapsed onto the ground, unable to believe the outcome. Mr. Henderson sidled up to me again, sweating profusely as he tried to persuade me: “Alex, Alex, look at the mess this has become… How about you be the bigger person this time, move your car first, and everyone can talk it over peacefully? For the sake of harmony, for the sake of harmony…” I pulled another printout from my file folder and handed it to him. It was a screenshot of all Karen’s insulting remarks in the community group chat, each sentence highlighted in red. “Mr. Henderson, is this also ‘for the sake of harmony’?” Mr. Henderson stared at the offensive words, instantly speechless, his face twisted like he’d swallowed a fly. My “glorious deed” spread throughout the entire complex within a day. The community SnapChat completely exploded. Some cursed me for being too extreme, inhuman. Others anonymously posted, saying that this was exactly the kind of drastic measure needed to deal with parking invaders, secretly cheering me on. I became the complex’s headline news, branded as a “ruthless one.” Chad, Karen’s husband, seeing that neither the police nor property management could do anything, finally took matters into his own hands. He started pulling his “connections.” The next day, people from the Fire Department showed up. Their reason was that my junk car was blocking a fire lane and posed a safety hazard. I pulled out the garage’s blueprint, pointed to my parking spot, and calmly told them: “This is a deeded parking spot, not a fire lane. The blueprint clearly shows it. My car is parked in my spot, not occupying any public area.” The Fire Department personnel looked at the blueprint, then at the scene, and, with nothing to say, left. On the third day, City Bylaw Officers arrived. Their reason was that my junk car was an “illegal structure” and an eyesore. I presented a printout of property law, reading it aloud to them clause by clause. “According to Property Law, Article 74, the ownership of parking spaces and garages within a building area, designated for parking, shall be agreed upon by the parties through sale,赠送 (donation), or lease. I own the deed to this parking space, meaning I have the right to use and control it. I am placing my private property on my private deeded property. This is entirely legal.” The officers exchanged glances and eventually left, helpless. Chad, realizing brute force wasn’t working, tried a softer approach. Or rather, another form of threat. On the fourth day, I received a legal notice. It was from a locally recognized law firm. The letter righteously demanded that I immediately remove the “obstacle” blocking parking spot B-77, restoring access for Karen’s vehicle. It also demanded compensation for mental distress, lost wages, and vehicle depreciation incurred by them, totaling one hundred thousand dollars. Otherwise, they would initiate a lawsuit against me. I sat in my study, holding the sternly worded legal notice, carefully examining it page by page. Just then, the doorbell rang. I looked through the peephole and saw an unfamiliar man standing at the door. He was in his thirties, wearing a well-fitted suit and wire-rimmed glasses, looking refined and scholarly. I opened the door. “Hello, Alex Smith.” The man smiled and extended his hand. “My name is David Chen. I live in the building across from yours. I’m a lawyer.” I was a bit surprised but shook his hand. “Hello, David.” David’s gaze fell on the legal notice in my hand, and he chuckled. “Here about this?” I nodded. He pushed his glasses up, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “Dude, what you did is brilliant! I’ve been annoyed with their family for ages, always causing trouble in the complex.” “Can I take a look at that legal notice? I can give you some advice.” I invited him in. He took the legal notice, glanced at it, and snorted. “Full of holes, purely trying to scare you.” He pointed to the clauses, analyzing them for me one by one. “Look, they’re suing you for infringement, but that assumes your actions are illegal. However, parking your car in your own deeded spot is perfectly legal. In fact, they’ve been illegally occupying your spot for a long time, which constitutes infringement on *your* part. He’s just trying to turn the tables and play the victim.” “And this ’emotional distress’ claim is complete nonsense. You could easily countersue them for trespass and defamation.” David’s words opened up a whole new world of possibilities for me. He put down the legal notice, leaned slightly forward, and lowered his voice. “Let me tell you something else, an insider tip. Chad’s small company seems to be having serious cash flow problems lately, looking for money everywhere. His current arrogance, to me, is mostly an act, trying to intimidate you into backing down.” An alliance against them, at this moment, began to form. I looked at this sudden, unexpected ally before me, and the heavy stone that had been weighing down my heart for days, finally eased a little.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299220”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

Today marks my fourth wedding anniversary with Liam. But instead of celebration, I got a call from the law firm. It was Liam’s chief legal advisor, his voice tinged with something odd. “Mrs. Hayes, Mr. Hayes has been sued by Ms. Chloe Miller for alleged unlawful restraint. Your presence is required as his legal spouse.” My fingers gripping the phone felt icy. Another one of Chloe’s tricks. Over these past four years, similar stunts have been endless. This was just that woman’s twisted way of asserting her dominance, another pathetic drama. Yet, I still went. Because I was Liam’s only legal wife, and that was my obligation. The top-floor conference room at the law firm was aggressively cold. As I approached, I saw Chloe through the glass door. She was complaining, half-showing off, half-feigning victimhood: “Mr. Evans, don’t you think he’s absolutely out of line? He just kept me all alone on a private island for three whole days and nights, not allowed to go anywhere!” The assistants nearby looked unfazed, as if they’d seen it all before. One assistant leaned closer to the intern beside her, whispering: “This isn’t a lawsuit, it’s a public display of affection. Mr. Hayes spoils her rotten. It’s just a couple’s game, blown out of proportion to get his wife to witness their drama.” The intern nodded, realization dawning: “So that’s why Mrs. Hayes was notified as per procedure?” “Exactly, just to rub it in.” Those whispers, big and small, stabbed at my heart, one after another. I pushed open the door and sat on a corner sofa. Not long after, Liam arrived. He strode in, clad in a black designer suit, radiating an icy aura that instantly dropped the temperature of the entire room by several degrees. But the moment he saw Chloe, all that coldness seemed to melt away. He gently stroked her hair, his movements tender: “My bad. I shouldn’t have kept you locked up. Are you still mad?” Chloe pouted, feigning annoyance. Liam pulled a velvet box from his pocket and opened it. A dazzling pink diamond brooch lay quietly inside. “I bid on this for you a few days ago at an auction.” He pinned the brooch to Chloe’s chest. “Don’t be mad anymore, hmm?” Chloe looked surprised and delighted, but still kept up her act. Liam smoothly pulled her into his embrace, then leaned in and kissed her. Throughout it all, I felt like a transparent spectator, forced to watch my husband’s intimacy with another woman. Liam, still holding Chloe, turned around, as if he finally noticed me in the corner. His gaze swept over, pausing slightly. Chloe leaned in his arms, openly admitting: “Liam, I asked Mr. Evans to notify her. You’re not mad at me, are you?” “It’s fine.” Liam uttered two indifferent words. Those two words were like a sharp knife, plunging into my heart. My thoughts, pulled by that piercing pain, involuntarily drifted back to the past. Four years ago, it wasn’t like this. Back then, Liam’s sister, Lily, and I were the best friends in the world. I had once feared that intimidating man. But later, I discovered that while Liam was cold to everyone else, he had an unimaginable tenderness reserved only for me. He remembered my period and would prepare warm drinks and heating pads in advance. He built a cozy, elaborate shelter for a stray cat beneath my dorm window, simply because I’d once casually mentioned feeling sorry for it. Whenever I left the house, he’d always find reasons to be by my side, protecting me completely. Little by little, I lowered my guard. We were madly in love for two whole years. During those two years, I was a princess, adored and cherished by Liam. But a sudden disaster crushed all that beauty into dust. After our wedding, Lily and I were shopping when we encountered an armed robber. In the chaos, Lily pushed me away with all her strength, screaming: “Rose, run! Go get help!” I turned and ran, but didn’t get far before an unprecedented, sharp pain erupted in my stomach. The pain was so intense, everything went black, and I lost consciousness. When I woke again, the world had changed. Two terrible pieces of news hit me simultaneously. First, the doctor told me I had stomach cancer, late stage. Second, Lily resisted and was brutally stabbed to death by the vicious criminal. I didn’t even have time to process the sudden tragedies before I was engulfed by Liam’s overwhelming hatred. His eyes bloodshot, he gripped my shoulders tightly, roaring questions at me: “Why didn’t you save her? Why were you the only one who ran?!” My heart twisted in agony. I looked at this man, who had just suffered the profound grief of losing his sister. How could I bear to tell him that his wife also didn’t have long to live? I couldn’t let him endure the double blow of losing both his sister and his wife at the same time. So, I chose silence. And my silence, in Liam’s eyes, was an admission of guilt. From that moment on, all the love in his eyes transformed into an all-consuming hatred. To get back at me, he found Chloe, a woman who bore a slight resemblance to my features. He lavished all the affection he once gave me, and then some, on that fake. My hand instinctively went to my lower abdomen. It was still flat, but the cancer cells inside had long since spread throughout my body. I remembered the latest medical report I received three days ago. The doctor looked at me, sympathy in his eyes, as he pronounced my final deadline. “Mrs. Hayes, I’m so sorry, but you have at most one month left.” One month. A sorrowful curve touched my pale lips. Well, good. This endless torment was finally nearing its end. Lily, wait for me. I’ll be there to apologize soon.

I walked out of the law firm, and a fiery red sports car brazenly screeched to a halt in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Chloe’s face, etched with a victor’s smile. “Get in.” She said in a sweet voice from the driver’s seat, her boastful intent undisguised. Liam didn’t even look at me, he just commanded: “Get in. Don’t make me say it twice.” I got in. Every inch of air in that cramped space suffocated me. The car started, speeding along the riverside highway. Suddenly, a ball rolled into the middle of the road, followed immediately by a toddler. Chloe panicked, yanking the steering wheel wildly, mistaking the accelerator for the brake and stomping on it. The sports car shot straight for the guardrail along the river. In the split second before impact, I clearly saw Liam lunge forward. He shielded Chloe with his own body. From beginning to end, he didn’t spare me a single glance. “Crash—” A deafening impact, then the chilling cold and darkness of plunging into the water. Icy river water surged in through the shattered window, frantically flooding my mouth and nose. My heart, in that moment, turned utterly cold. Before I completely lost consciousness, the last thing I saw was Liam smashing open the car window. He carried the already unconscious Chloe, swimming strenuously towards the surface, his back to me. I woke up in a hospital, to the sound of a man’s voice, thick with suppressed fury. “Why isn’t she awake yet?!” It was Liam. My heart gave an uncontrollable tremor. I heard the doctor holding my medical chart, trying to explain: “Mr. Hayes, Mrs. Hayes’s unconsciousness might not just be due to drowning. Her physical condition…” Before he could finish, he was interrupted by an anxious nurse’s voice. “Mr. Hayes! Ms. Miller is awake and crying, looking for you everywhere!” The hospital room door was pushed open, and Liam’s tall figure appeared in the doorway. Our eyes met, mine having just fluttered open. The anxiety and suppressed anger that had been etched on his face because I hadn’t woken up quickly vanished the moment he saw I was conscious. He turned without hesitation towards Chloe’s room, not sparing me another glance. I slowly closed my eyes, a faint, bitter smile escaping my lips. It’s better this way, that he doesn’t know about my illness. Otherwise, he’d probably just scoff at it as karma, then complain I was dying too slowly and disgusting him. I discharged myself. Returning to the empty villa, my heart was as still as stagnant water. I began to calmly arrange my final affairs. First, I went to the old photo studio on the corner that had been there for decades and took a portrait for my funeral. In the photo, I wore a clean white shirt, a calm smile on my face. But my eyes held an unyielding stillness, a deadness. I went to choose the simplest white ceramic urn for myself. Holding that small urn, imagining myself curled up inside it in the end, I felt an immense sense of peace. Finally, I took a cab to the cemetery. In front of Lily’s tombstone, I laid down the white roses I carried. “Lily, I’m so sorry.” “I’ll be joining you soon.” I whispered my illness and my impending death. “Rose.” I stiffly turned my head. Liam was standing not far away, also holding a bouquet of white roses. And by his side, intimately linked to his arm, was Chloe.

Liam stepped forward and kicked aside the white roses in front of the grave. “How dare you even show your face here?” His voice was filled with hatred. “Get out! Don’t desecrate my sister’s resting place!” I leaned on the tombstone, slowly rising to my feet, my throat dry and hoarse: “I just wanted to see Lily.” “See her?” Liam laughed as if he’d heard the most absurd joke. “What right do you have to see her?” He suddenly reached out and shoved me violently against a nearby tree. His rough hand clamped tightly around my slender neck. “Why didn’t you save her back then? Why did you let her die such a terrible death alone?!” His eyes bloodshot, he roared each word, as if he wanted to tear me apart. Suffocation instantly enveloped me. Oxygen was slowly withdrawn, the shadow of death loomed, yet I felt a sense of release. I stopped struggling, slowly closing my eyes. Dying by his hand, perhaps that was a form of atonement. Just as my consciousness began to fade, the pressure on my neck suddenly eased. Liam threw me aside, his chest heaving violently. A fleeting, complex mix of pain and struggle flickered in his eyes, too quick to grasp. I leaned on the tree trunk, coughing violently. Chloe walked up delicately, taking Liam’s arm: “Liam, the sun’s so hot here. Let’s go quickly. Don’t waste time on such a malicious person.” The struggle in Liam’s eyes receded, replaced by his usual cold indifference. He gently placed the white roses in front of the grave, not looking at me again. “Oh dear, my foot hurts so much.” Chloe suddenly cried out delicately. Liam immediately knelt in front of her, naturally scooping her onto his back. He carried her steadily down the cemetery steps. Watching that familiar back, my heart felt like it was being repeatedly cut by a knife. I suddenly remembered Liam carrying me like that once before. That time we went to church to pray, the long stone steps made my legs weak. I refused to move, and he smiled helplessly, his eyes full of affection. Then he knelt down and carried me. He walked steadily, whispering in my ear: “Rose, I’ll carry you for life.” Back then, Lily had been teasing us, calling us clingy. His promise still echoed in my ears, but now, another woman was on his back. I silently followed behind them. Liam placed Chloe in the car, then turned to see me, commanding with icy eyes: “Get in.” Seeing me hesitate, he added impatiently: “Every second you stay here, I feel sick.” I numbly got into the car, sitting in the back. Inside, Chloe deliberately pressed her whole body against Liam. She enticed him in a highly provocative tone: “Liam, I want you to…” Liam’s body tensed, his desire easily ignited. He slammed on the brakes, stopping the car at a secluded riverside viewpoint. He turned his head and uttered a single word to me: “Get out.” I stared at him in disbelief. “Get out.” His voice was brutal. I trembled as I pushed open the car door and stepped out. As soon as I was on my feet, the car door was violently slammed shut, then locked. Immediately, the fiery red sports car began to rock violently, rhythmically. At the quiet viewpoint, the woman’s deliberately suppressed, yet seductive moans, and the man’s heavy breathing, clearly penetrated the car windows, tormenting my eardrums with each sound.

Tears streamed down my face, only to be instantly dried by the river wind. I couldn’t help but remember my first time with Liam. Back then, he was so careful, his movements gentle and restrained, afraid of hurting me. The tenderness and love in his eyes almost melted me. But now, less than a few feet away from me, he was indulging in pleasure with another woman, raw and direct. Just to vent primal urges. My heart twisted in agony. I don’t know how much time passed before the car window finally rolled down. Chloe leaned back in the seat, looking languid. Her face flushed with post-coital satisfaction, she signaled that I could get back in. I pulled open the car door, and the heavy scent inside made my stomach churn. “Liam, what if I get pregnant?” Chloe’s voice held a hint of feigned worry. Liam started the car, his tone gentle: “Then we’ll have her. A daughter as lovely as you.” A daughter. Those words were like a bolt from the blue. I remembered, they had once passionately discussed our future children. He said if it was a daughter, she had to be like me. He would spoil her into the happiest little princess in the world. But then he also said that his most cherished princess would always be me, his one and only. Those promises that once made my heart tremble with sweetness now seemed as distant as a past life. Chloe leaned sweetly on his shoulder, playfully saying: “Then we’ll have to keep trying hard when we get back.” Back at the villa, Liam and Chloe no longer held back. Traces of their indulgence were left everywhere: on the living room sofa, in front of the bathroom mirror, on the study carpet. The explicit sounds were incessant, day and night, tormenting me like a curse. Meanwhile, I could only lock myself in my room, repeatedly tormented by the excruciating pain of cancer. Each time the pain struck, I could only bite hard on the corner of the duvet, spitting out blood with a metallic, sweet taste. Inside the room, it was the silence of approaching death. Outside, it was unrestrained revelry. Life and death, at this moment, formed the starkest contrast. I left my room to get water and saw Chloe in an apron, busy in the kitchen. Liam sat at the dining table reading a newspaper, the scene possessing an absurd sense of peaceful domesticity. Chloe saw me: “Sister, come eat with us.” Liam didn’t even look up: “Don’t be difficult.” I was forced to sit at the table, looking at a plate of charred, unidentifiable objects. Liam, however, calmly picked up a piece, put it in his mouth, and even dotingly told Chloe: “Delicious.” I remembered the first time I cooked for him. It was just as bad, but he ate every last bit. Then he gently ruffled my hair and said his Rose was the most amazing girl in the world. The bitterness of memory welled up in my throat. I managed to eat one bite of the dish, and my stomach immediately churned. A metallic, sweet taste I could no longer suppress, I rushed into the bathroom, violently vomiting into the sink. The white ceramic instantly stained crimson with dazzling blood. Chloe followed me in. Seeing this, her eyes immediately reddened: “Sister, what do you mean? Do you hate the food I worked so hard to make so much? Are you doing this on purpose for Liam and me?” Liam rushed in when he heard her. His face darkened instantly. He quickly strode forward, pulled Chloe into his embrace, and softly comforted her. He looked up, his gaze sweeping over me like I was a disgusting piece of trash. “Since you hate eating so much,” He began, “Then starve for a few days and reflect properly.” “Security! Lock her in the basement.”

Two security guards stepped forward, grabbed my arms, and roughly dragged me towards the basement. A cold, damp air hit me, mixed with the musty smell of dust. I didn’t even have the strength to struggle. The excruciating stomach pain and the icy cold in my heart brought me to the brink of fainting. I was thrown in without mercy. Liam didn’t look at me once, simply holding a pitifully crying Chloe in his arms and turning to leave. In the darkness, I curled up on the cold ground. For two whole days, I had no water. Hunger and stomach pain tormented me in turns, wearing down my last bit of life force. It wasn’t until the third day, the eve of Chloe’s birthday party, that the basement door was finally opened. Liam had me released, looking down at my pathetic state from above. “Chloe’s birthday party, you’ll organize it personally. If anything goes wrong, you know the consequences.” Like a corpse, I numbly nodded. The birthday party was extremely lavish. The entire villa was dazzling with lights and colors, bustling with guests. After a few rounds of drinks, Chloe, holding a glass, walked seductively towards me. “Sister, it’s my birthday today. Where’s my present?” Undisguised provocation gleamed in her eyes. “I didn’t prepare one.” I replied calmly. Chloe’s gaze fell on my neck, where a beautiful necklace hung. It was the only keepsake my mother had left me. “Then give that to me,” Chloe’s tone was as if it were her right, “I really like it.” I instinctively shielded the necklace on my chest: “Not this one.” “Why not?” Chloe’s eyes immediately reddened. She looked aggrievedly at Liam who had rushed over. “Liam, I just want a birthday present.” Liam’s eyes turned cold. “Give it to her.” He commanded me. “This is all my mother left me…” My voice trembled uncontrollably, pleading one last time. I remembered when my mother died, I cried until I couldn’t breathe. It was Liam who held me tight, promising again and again in my ear that he would always be with me, and would love me well on my mother’s behalf. But now, this very man was about to personally take away my last keepsake of my mother. Liam lost his patience and simply signaled his security guards. “No! Don’t!” I struggled frantically, but was held down tightly by two security guards. I watched helplessly as the thin chain was torn off and fell into Liam’s hand. He personally put it on Chloe, praising her softly: “It suits you well.” He led Chloe back to the center of the party, hand in hand. I collapsed onto the ground, feeling utterly cold. I wanted to leave this suffocating place. As soon as I stood up, I was blocked by Chloe’s friends. They dragged me to a secluded corner, where obscene insults accompanied by a hail of punches and kicks rained down on me. “Shameless hussy, clinging to Mrs. Hayes’s position!” “It’s your honor that Chloe wants something of yours, how dare you refuse?” I curled up on the ground, abandoning all resistance and cries for help. It hurt, it hurt so much. But how could physical pain compare to even a fraction of the agony in my heart? When another kick brutally landed on my abdomen, I couldn’t hold it in anymore and violently turned my head, vomiting a large mouthful of blood. That dazzling crimson instantly terrified the women whose eyes were blazing with fury. Just then, an icy voice rang out above their heads. “What are you doing?!” It was Liam.

Chloe’s friends’ faces turned ghostly pale, and they hastily explained: “Mr. Hayes, it’s not our fault! She started spitting blood herself!” Chloe ran over, preemptively grabbing Liam, who was about to step forward: “Liam, don’t let her trick you! She’s doing this on purpose, faking it with a blood pack, trying to ruin my birthday party!” Liam’s steps faltered. The momentary waver in his eyes quickly vanished. He looked at me, curled up on the ground: “Since she loves acting so much, let her put on a full show.” He turned to the security guards: “Throw her into the backyard pool. Let her sober up properly. Don’t pull her out until sunrise.” That night was early winter; the temperature was already close to freezing. One security guard couldn’t help but remind him: “Mr. Hayes, someone could die.” “If she dies, she dies.” Liam responded indifferently. I was roughly dragged to the backyard by two security guards and thrown into the icy pool. The biting cold instantly enveloped me, suffocation and excruciating stomach pain hitting me simultaneously. I struggled in the freezing water. Through my blurred vision, I saw the boisterous party inside the villa. And Liam and Chloe intimately embracing under the lights. A night passed. When I was pulled out, I was barely clinging to life, with a relentless high fever. I was thrown back into my room, left to fend for myself. In the days that followed, my pain became more frequent, spitting blood was common, and my consciousness often blurred. During one agonizing bout of pain, I hallucinated, as if I was back five years ago, when he still cared for me. I instinctively picked up my phone and dialed that familiar number. Like every time I felt unwell before, my voice was choked and filled with complete dependence: “Liam… I feel so bad…” On the other end of the line, there was a long silence. Just as I thought he wouldn’t respond, Liam’s voice came through the receiver: “What’s wrong?” I snapped back to reality, realizing how ridiculous my actions were. My heart was tightly squeezed. I frantically hung up, buried my head in the duvet, biting my teeth as I silently wept. Finally, I swallowed a handful of painkillers and drifted into a groggy sleep. I don’t know how much time passed before a bucket of cold water was dumped over my head, jolting me awake from my slumber. Chloe stood by the bed, looking down at me: “Sister, I found a man for you. How about you try out another man?” As soon as she finished speaking, a creepy man walked in through the door, approaching the bed with a lecherous grin. My eyes widened in terror, desperately recoiling. Just as the man’s filthy hand was about to touch me, I violently pushed him away. Barefoot, I rushed out of the room, heedless of everything. The moment I burst out of the room, I bumped head-first into a firm chest. I looked up in terror, meeting Liam’s bottomless eyes. My clothes were disheveled, my face streaked with tears, still shaken. Chloe, however, cried and threw herself into Liam’s arms, starting to slander me: “Liam, I can’t believe she was in the room with a strange man, boohoo, how could she do this to you…”

Liam grabbed my slender wrist. He roughly dragged me back into the room, slammed me onto the bed, his tall figure looming over me. “Rose, are you really that desperate?” He demanded, his voice laced with venom. I didn’t want to explain anymore. “Yes! Whose fault is it that you can’t satisfy me? If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for being so useless!” Those words completely ignited Liam’s fury. He leaned down and bit my lip hard, the heavy taste of blood instantly spreading between our mouths. A metallic, sweet taste in my throat, I turned my head, and another mouthful of blood spewed out. Staining the pristine white bedsheet a horrifying red. That dazzling red patch made Liam pause, his gaze frozen for a moment. But quickly, that flicker of hesitation was replaced by deeper mockery. “Your sins aren’t atoned for yet. Want to die? Not that easy!” He said coldly, “I’ll torment you for life! Until death do us part!” He dragged me, wearing only a thin nightgown, outside the villa, ordering me to kneel in the early winter wind. In the middle of the night, freezing rain began to fall. Rain mixed with tears, soaking me completely. I knelt on the hard gravel path, freezing until my consciousness blurred, eventually losing all sensation. One afternoon, I struggled out of bed to get water, only to hear Chloe’s panicked cries from downstairs. “Liam! What do I do… I… I think I hit someone with my car!” I leaned on the wall, struggling to reach the top of the stairs. I saw Chloe throwing herself into Liam’s arms, trembling with tears. She recounted in terror how she had been drunk driving and hit a pedestrian, who was now critically injured and unconscious, and their family had already called the police. After a brief silence, Liam comforted her: “Don’t be afraid, I’m here.” Liam’s gaze fell on me, standing at the top of the stairs. “You go.” I stared at him in disbelief. Liam’s tone was unquestionable: “You take the fall for Chloe.” Looking at this man who would personally send me to prison, my heart ached to numbness. I remained silent, accepting all this absurdity. I was taken to the detention center, taking the blame for all of Chloe’s crimes. In that dark, damp environment, I spent the longest three days. Repeated fevers, full-body pain, but I said nothing, just quietly waited for my life to ebb away. On the third day, Liam’s assistant picked me up. The assistant looked at my emaciated, almost unrecognizable appearance, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Mrs. Hayes, Ms. Miller has been diagnosed with severe heart failure, her condition is critical. Mr. Hayes is scouring the world for a suitable heart donor for her. He asks you to behave yourself lately and stop causing trouble.” Heart failure? Needs a heart donor?

There wasn’t a single ripple of emotion on my face, but my hand hanging at my side, clenched uncontrollably. “Take me to the hospital.” My voice was hoarse. The assistant drove the car to Liam Corp.’s private hospital. Outside the ICU on the VIP floor, I looked through the large glass window and saw the scene inside. Liam gripped Chloe’s hand tightly on the hospital bed. “If a suitable donor isn’t found, use mine! Immediately conduct compatibility tests for Chloe and me!” The doctor tried to dissuade him, looking troubled: “Mr. Hayes, your blood type doesn’t match Ms. Miller’s. This won’t work…” “I don’t care!” Liam cut him off, “I said, at all costs! Don’t you understand?!” I just stood there, quietly watching his frantic appearance for another woman. My heart ached so much I couldn’t breathe. I leaned on the cold wall, slowly crouched down, burying my face in my knees, silently weeping. A thought suddenly flashed through my muddled mind. My blood type was the same as Chloe’s. I wiped away my tears, slowly stood up, and walked alone to the attending physician’s office. “Doctor, I’d like to get a compatibility test.” The results came back quickly. Highly compatible, fully meeting donation criteria. Holding that thin report, I stood by the window and suddenly smiled. I decided to use this heart, already scarred and riddled with holes, as the last gift for Liam. And to settle the debt, the life I owed Lily. I signed my name on the Living Organ Donation Consent Form. The next morning, I was woken by voices. Liam was standing by the window on a call. After hanging up, a look of joy appeared between his brows. “The hospital found a living organ donor, surgery is scheduled for next week.” “You stay put, don’t cause me any trouble.”

Liam became busy with Chloe’s surgery. My world fell completely silent. The surgery date was set for Liam’s birthday. This day, which he once cherished above all, now existed only for another woman. On the morning of his birthday, enduring excruciating pain, I personally cooked him a bowl of longevity noodles. It was the last thing I could do for him. As he finished getting dressed, I held up the steaming bowl and called out to him. “Liam, have some noodles.” My voice was very soft, carrying a barely perceptible plea. Liam turned around, filled with impatience. He violently knocked the bowl to the ground. The ceramic bowl shattered, noodles and broth splattered everywhere, a complete mess. “I don’t have time to waste on you.” He said coldly, “Today is a more important day for Chloe than anything else.” With that, he strode away without looking back. I looked at the mess on the floor and slowly smiled. You won’t eat the longevity noodles… Then I’ll just give you your birthday present directly. I returned to my room, changed into a clean white dress, and then took a cab to the hospital. I changed into a surgical gown and lay on the operating table. Through a thin curtain, I could clearly hear the sounds from the next room. I heard Liam gripping Chloe’s hand, comforting her in a gentle voice: “Chloe, don’t be afraid. I’ll wait for you outside until you’re done. Once you’re better, we’ll get married.” This scene suddenly reminded me of many years ago, when I had fibroadenoma removal surgery. He had also waited anxiously outside the door, holding my hand, telling me again and again not to be afraid. A doctor approached me for the final confirmation: “Ms. Rose, are you sure you want to proceed with the living heart transplant? Once it begins, there’s no turning back.” My gaze passed through the gap in the curtain, falling on his tall figure outside. I slowly nodded. “I’m sure.” Cold anesthetic was slowly injected into my veins, and my consciousness began to blur. Memories I had deliberately sealed away flashed uncontrollably in my mind. His clumsy, flustered appearance the first time he prepared warm sugar water for me. His domineering insistence on carrying me back to bed when he found me staying up late to read. His anxiety in a crowded place, holding my hand tightly, afraid I might get lost. The sparkling starlight in his eyes when he proposed to me grandly under a sky full of fireworks. … If there’s a next life… Liam, let’s not meet again. I whispered my last wish in my heart. I shed my last tear, my long, curled eyelashes gently fluttered down, and I completely lost all sound. The heart monitor connected to my body, its screen displaying a flatline, emitted a piercing, sustained beep. On the other side, the operating room light went out. The surgery was successful. Liam breathed a sigh of relief, a long-lost smile finally gracing his face. The attending physician came out and stopped him, asking as a matter of routine: “Mr. Hayes, the donor’s body is next door. Would you like to pay your respects and express your gratitude to the donor?” Liam’s mind was completely filled with Chloe at that moment, but out of basic courtesy and gratitude, he still nodded. He followed the doctor to a solemn room. In the center of the room, a body covered with a white sheet lay there. Liam reached out, his fingertips trembling slightly as he pinched a corner of the white sheet, preparing to lift it.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299219”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

It was Christmas, and I bought a bunch of cookies from the live stream endorsed by a famous actress. I posted a comment: 【These cookies are delicious! Can a seventy-year-old grandma eat them?】 To my surprise, the actress, Brittany Blackwood, somehow picked my comment out of the furiously scrolling feed. She rolled her eyes dramatically: 【Buying for your grandparents? Seriously, don’t insult my cookies, okay?】 I was so furious, I unleashed a torrent of comments: 【Oh, a celebrity, huh? Big deal! Mocking someone’s elders, have you no shame?!】 I went viral overnight, and the actress was blasted and topped the trending list. Soon after, one of Brittany Blackwood’s extreme fans stabbed me to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of that live stream. 【My dearest, you’re so gorgeous and your voice is like an angel! Just a few more words and my ears will be pregnant!】 【Dearest, you work so hard, please rest!】 【When are you updating with new photos, dearest!】 The comments on my phone scrolled by furiously. On the screen, the exquisitely made-up actress, Brittany Blackwood, sat perched on her seat. It was her usual ‘good side’ – always the right cheek for the camera, with a strategically styled hairstyle that always hid half her face. If there were no gifts in the comments, she’d pout impatiently, only cracking a smile when one appeared. In a fake sweet voice, she clasped her hands to her chest: “Thank you for all your support, meow meow!” The comments section instantly went wild. The sharp pain of the knife tearing into my body still lingered. I hadn’t fully recovered my wits, but the image of the woman before me was incredibly clear. My mind went blank, but my body remembered the past, and my fingers flew across the screen, typing out a few words: 【Can grandparents eat your cookies?】 Sure enough, the actress rolled her eyes, just like before: 【Who wants to sell them to old people?! Seriously, don’t insult my cookies, okay? Do your grandparents even deserve them?】 My fingers flew across the screen, bombarding the comments: 【Why don’t my grandparents deserve them?! How is selling them to seniors an insult to you?! What’s wrong with hard-working people earning a bit of cash to buy something nice for their elders?? Don’t you have any elders in your family?】 【If I’m not mistaken, consumers have the right to ask about a product, right? I’m just exercising my rights, why are you being so sarcastic and snide? Are you trying to challenge consumer protection laws?】 【I used to think you were a brilliant actress for playing such convincing idiots, but turns out you weren’t acting, you really are that dumb!】 After I furiously typed for a few minutes, the comments section became eerily quiet. Ten minutes later, the trending topics exploded. #Shocking! The Real Reason She Plays Idiots So Well!# #BrittanyBlackwood:Don’tInsultMyCookies# #Don’tYouHaveAnyEldersInYourFamily# My words instantly went viral across the entire internet. But Brittany Blackwood wasn’t one to back down either; she immediately mobilized a bunch of influencers to spin the narrative in her favor: “It was just an innocent slip of the tongue, yet someone maliciously twisted my words. Is society too harsh on celebrities?” She immediately got roasted so badly, her own mother wouldn’t recognize her: 【Her own grandparents were humiliated right to their faces, and they’re supposed to just take it? Look at her condescending attitude when she said that. This wasn’t a mistake; it’s just pure classlessness!】 【Even though Brittany’s words weren’t great, is it really okay to keep attacking a young girl like this?】 【Bro, your ‘little girl’ is practically thirty! By that age, someone like Meryl Streep had already won every award, and your darling is still playing dumb and acting cutesy! Have some shame!】 【I was raised by my grandparents. If anyone ever talked to them like that, no joke, I’d be even angrier than this young lady!】 After putting down my phone, I called a nurse to remove Nana Rose’s IV drip and bought dinner, coaxing her to eat. But then, a girl wearing a mask suddenly walked into the hospital room and asked, “Are you Stella Hayes?” I nodded, bewildered. The next moment, the girl suddenly rushed over and knocked Nana Rose’s dinner over. Juice spilled everywhere on the bed, and food stained Nana Rose’s clothes. “You and your grandma actually have the nerve to eat! Do you know what you’ve done to Brittany?!” “Eat, eat, eat! Why isn’t there poison in this food to just kill you both?!” I realized Brittany Blackwood’s fans had doxxed me and tracked me down. I wasn’t about to put up with her, so I grabbed a mop and shooed her out of the room: “A celebrity’s fans reflect their own character!” “You’d better watch your words. Consider it good karma for your idol, and show some respect to other people’s elders.” While responding, I recorded the entire incident on my phone, deciding to call the police afterward to ensure an official outcome. This place wasn’t safe anymore. Later, Brittany Blackwood’s agency called, claiming she was young and spoke carelessly, and they were willing to compensate me for emotional damages if I contacted Brittany Blackwood’s agent immediately. But when I tapped on the agent’s profile and sent a message, they left my message on read. I opened TikTok again, only to find Brittany Blackwood’s fans had already “forgiven” her on my behalf: 【This sister has already reached a private settlement with our Brittany!】 【It was all a misunderstanding, everyone knows our Brittany is known for being a ray of sunshine in the industry, her character is undeniable!】 I had no idea about any of this! Checking my DMs, they were filled with hateful slurs. 【Trying to piggyback off my dear’s fame, huh! My dear is already so pitiful having to work overtime on Christmas, and now she has to deal with your attitude!】 【So what if selling cookies to you is an insult! You’re so pathetic you probably can’t even afford a decent meal, talking to you makes me sick!】 【I heard you’re a model, walking major runways at such a young age. You’ve probably slept with plenty of people privately, haven’t you? Should I post your contact info and let everyone ‘take care of your business’?】

In my previous life, facing those malicious DMs, my mental health completely deteriorated, but I still pulled myself together, working day and night to make ends meet. Until one day, at the hospital, while paying Nana Rose’s fees, an extreme fan suddenly rushed over and plunged a knife into my stomach. “How dare you insult my dear! This is what you get!!” This time… I took screenshots of all those DMs, along with evidence of the fan harassing Nana Rose and me in the hospital room, and sent them to a lawyer. After consulting with the lawyer, I organized their response and these photos and posted them on Ins, with the caption: 【All insults and infringing acts have been documented. I will use legal means to defend my rights.】 【Also, I hope certain celebrities can control their fans and stop letting them loose like attack dogs.】 It immediately shot to the top of the Ins trending list and wouldn’t budge. People who were bored out of their minds at home during Christmas immediately launched into a heated discussion under my post. The powerful backers behind Brittany Blackwood couldn’t delete comments fast enough. The online discussion surged, and all the dirty laundry Brittany Blackwood had painstakingly hidden was dug up. Turns out, the reason I was allowed to rant for several minutes in the live stream before being kicked out might have been staff retaliation. Apparently, a staff member had angered the spoiled Ms. Blackwood, who, with a smiling face but venom in her eyes, suddenly grabbed the microphone from the table and smashed it fiercely at the employee. This completely enraged the team, which is why they didn’t immediately step in to silence me when they saw me passionately ranting in the live stream. She really was universally disliked! Seeing the situation spiraling out of control, Brittany Blackwood had no choice but to post an apology on Ins herself. But no one bought it. Righteous netizens flooded her comment section, tearing into her. Within minutes, the thin-skinned Brittany Blackwood deleted her apology post. Soon after, someone posted photos of Brittany Blackwood being rushed to the hospital after fainting from anger. Seeing her pathetic sight, still wearing a mask even in the hospital, afraid of passersby catching her face. I smiled. This is all it takes to get to her? Last life, when she incited her fans to cyberbully me, why didn’t she think about how I couldn’t take it? Don’t worry, the real show is yet to come. After the long holiday weekend, I sent Nana Rose, who had recovered from her illness, back home. A modeling reality show reached out to me. In my previous life, consumed by the shadows, I refused. But this time, I accepted immediately. Because I saw Brittany Blackwood’s name on the judges’ panel. I knew very well this was to help Brittany Blackwood whitewash her image. Under the cameras, she would inevitably make things difficult for me. After all, when a spoiled heiress is angry, how dare we commoners resist? A few days later, when I arrived on set. I found that filming had already begun. The director had clearly told me there would be no filming today, so I just splashed water on my face and threw on some casual clothes. To my surprise, the moment I opened the door, a camera was shoved right into my face. And on the opposite judges’ panel, Brittany Blackwood feigned surprise, covering her mouth: “Oh my gosh, darling, how could you come dressed like that? Weren’t you told to get made up beforehand? You’re being so disrespectful to the production team!” As expected, comments immediately started mocking me: 【She looks like that and she’s a model? I feel like my grandma could wash her face and get dressed up and do better.】 【Haha, she’s still making fun of our Brittany. Our Brittany effortlessly outshines her just by sitting there, okay?】 【Um… are you guys serious? I think the model girl is prettier than Brittany Blackwood?】 【Anyone whose eyes aren’t working upstairs can donate them to someone in need, just saying.】

It wasn’t until I’d been insulted from head to toe that the production assistant finally came to greet me: “Ms. Hayes, you’re over half an hour late. You can’t do that next time!” Brittany Blackwood skipped over to me as well: “So you’re Ms. Hayes! You really are a beauty! Let’s get along well these next few days!” I looked at the woman whose smile didn’t reach her eyes. I scoffed. In my previous life, when I was cyberbullied, I sent her countless messages asking for help, but they all fell on deaf ears. I commented under her TikTok, but within seconds, my comments were deleted, and I was blocked. I went to her agency, but they simply handed me a cease and desist letter, demanding I shut up. In desperation, I could only plead with Chloe, my best friend in the city, to meet her in person. Chloe waited for a long time and finally saw Brittany Blackwood, heavily disguised, at the city airport. She quickly FaceTimed me, and I used all my strength to shout to her: “Ms. Blackwood! I’m the person involved in the cookie incident! Please release a statement for me, I really can’t go on!” The woman, her face completely obscured by a mask, paused, turned, and looked at me. In her eyes was a coldness and disgust I would never forget. As if I were some dirty thing, and even a few seconds of contact with me repulsed her. Then, her bodyguard rushed over and smashed Chloe’s phone. In the lingering fragments of our call, I clearly heard a sneer: “She didn’t think about the consequences when she was spewing insults, and now she wants help? Dream on!” “You poor people are truly desperate for fame, even trying to use our Brittany for clout. Look at yourselves! How dare you ask for help? Humph!” That was the most condescending tone I had ever heard. Chloe grew anxious: “She’s already been punished, isn’t that enough? Do you really need someone to die to be satisfied?” The other side impatiently tutted, then spoke with a tone of false generosity: “It’s her own problem if she can’t cope; why blame us for that?” “Alright, alright, fine, we’ll help her find a good therapist. We’ll even cover the costs, how about that?” Then she turned and walked away. But I never saw any “therapist” until the day I died. Are our lives, the lives of ordinary people, truly so insignificant? That was the question I wanted to ask her most in my previous life. But this time, the question I wanted to ask had changed. Brittany Blackwood, do you truly think we’re all just scum in your eyes? The camera stood between us, waiting for my outburst of fury. But I didn’t get angry. Instead, I smiled and took Brittany Blackwood’s hand: “I’m alright, not exceptionally beautiful, but definitely better than a face that’s been under the knife and still looks like nothing.” The smile instantly vanished from her face: “Ms. Hayes… what do you mean by that?” She recoiled, like a startled deer. Tears welled up in her eyes: “I know you’ve always had some misunderstandings about me, but I genuinely want to get along with you.” “But you’re right, because of my issues, I’ve caused you trouble, and I’m willing to apologize.” Saying this, she bowed to me, about to stand up. However, I suddenly reached out and pressed down heavily on her back: “Hey, an apology needs sincerity. I haven’t forgiven you yet, why are you getting up already?” Brittany Blackwood’s carefully cultivated look of grievance almost crumbled.

I smiled, withdrawing my hand, not forgetting to pat her shoulder: “Alright, alright, your acting is so terrible that even that little performance was a struggle. I really can’t ask you to act any more parts.” 【Whoa, so much tension right from the start! I’m definitely tuning in for what happens next!】 【What is she playing at?! My girl already apologized, and she’s still so aggressive, it’s making me furious!】 【Actually, Brittany Blackwood was very polite. For someone of her distinguished background, lowering herself to apologize is quite something. What more do they want?!】 【The one above, there’s zero benefit to speaking for the rich.】 I ignored the comments and directly sat on the talk show sofa. The person next to me turned and gave me a thumbs up: “Impressive.” I almost laughed out loud when I saw who it was. It was Liam Knight. He had been forced into a “screen couple” marketing strategy with Brittany Blackwood, but under her team’s unilateral manipulation, he became the sole scapegoat, labeled a “heartless jerk” and sent to the top of the trending list. Before I could speak, Brittany Blackwood’s sweet, complaining voice came from behind me. “Liam, hurry and check if I’m showing anything! I’m so scared of flashing the camera.” Liam’s expression changed. An image of Brittany Blackwood’s revealing videos posted on international platforms also flashed in my mind. She’d be dancing to finger-heart challenges without a bra, her chest and nipples practically shoved into the camera. She certainly didn’t seem scared of flashing then. The reason I knew so much about her, even her international videos, was because… I had been her fan for a while. That was during a low point in my life when I couldn’t find meaning in living. Brittany Blackwood had just starred in a series of hit dramas, always portraying bright and sunny characters. That’s when I noticed this sweet-looking girl, believing a strong heart hid beneath her delicate frame. She said: “I’m a celebrity, I enjoy so many things ordinary people don’t, what do I have to be sad about?” I became her fan, feeling that people should be as brave as she was. At the big company’s annual gala, she gradually moved from the most obscure spot to the center stage over a few years. This truly inspired me, giving me a reason to live. But later I found out that she was still in an obscure spot that night; she had simply ignored warnings and stolen Liam Knight’s spot to stand so prominently. She even ignored colleagues who kindly reminded her, insisting on her “strong female lead” persona. Only then did I realize that her “sunny” words weren’t encouragement at all. They were bragging, blatant bragging about her celebrity status. I completely unfollowed her. It was ironic how things had come to this with my former idol. She looked at Liam Knight, her eyes sparkling, chattering endlessly: “Liam Knight, don’t you think Stella is pretty? Don’t you think Stella is prettier than me?” This was a blatant trap; any answer would earn him netizens’ wrath. But Liam Knight went head-on: “Yes, she’s definitely prettier than you.” The comments section immediately exploded: 【What is Liam Knight saying?! Stella Hayes, have some shame! Trying to break up Liam and Brittany’s power couple?!】 【Liam and Brittany are old news, my dear has a new partner now.】 【Even if they’re old news, Liam Knight knowingly came on this show when Brittany was here, which means he’s an ex-boyfriend who can’t forget her! Liam Knight is definitely jealous, that’s why he’s using Stella Hayes to get under my dear’s skin!】 Brittany Blackwood clearly hadn’t expected such an answer, and she chuckled awkwardly: “What’s wrong with you today? So merciless!” Comments flooded in, sympathizing with Brittany Blackwood. Liam Knight, however, gave her a strange look: “Didn’t you ask that question hoping I’d answer that way? Can you stop writing your own script?” Brittany Blackwood’s eyes darted around, then she suddenly pouted: “So… are you trying to argue with me?”

What a picture of innocent fragility, a real fake goody-two-shoes! Too bad the public isn’t blind. Another guest couldn’t help but shake his head: “Ms. Blackwood, do you feel sick if you’re not setting traps for people?” A flicker of disgust instantly crossed Brittany Blackwood’s eyes, but she quickly forced another smile: “Alright, alright, I was just joking. Why are you so serious?” She put on a naive and adorable act, then leaned into my embrace: “Oh, Ms. Hayes, I hear you’re a dancer. How about you dance for us now, and let us see your grace, okay?” “The Queen of Dance herself is here. Dancing in front of her is like trying to show off in front of a master!” Saying that, I smiled and looked towards Seraphina Stone on the judges’ panel. She became a principal dancer in a prestigious company in her teens, instantly soaring to become one of the world’s most outstanding dancers. Tickets for her performances sell out in less than ten minutes. She is undeniably the light of the dance world. She has seen only the best dancers; a minor dancer like me would just make her laugh. “Oh, come on, even after a gourmet feast, sometimes you crave a simple snack, don’t you? Stop being modest! Come on, just one!” “Even if you don’t dance the whole piece, a few steps will do! Can you bear to disappoint us?” Brittany Blackwood hugged me even tighter, almost pressing her entire body against mine. But where the camera couldn’t see, she “accidentally” pinched me. The pain made me involuntarily stand up. To my surprise, Brittany Blackwood immediately covered her mouth: “Wow! Looks like she’s too excited to sit still! Come on, come on!” A few members of the directing team exchanged glances: “Brittany is inviting you so enthusiastically, if you keep being shy, you’ll seem ungracious!” “Just dance for us! If you don’t want to do anything too difficult, a little ‘Baby Swan’ will do!” “Yeah, yeah, I haven’t seen such a childish dance in ages, it makes me nostalgic for childhood!” “Enough!” Seeing everyone getting more and more out of line, Seraphina Stone’s face darkened. “If she doesn’t want to dance, she doesn’t dance. How can so many people pressure a young woman? You should be ashamed.” “Teacher Seraphina, you’re taking it too seriously! You’re so fierce, I thought you hated me!” Brittany Blackwood reached out and hugged Seraphina Stone again, even nuzzling her head against her: “You’re so fierce; no wonder everyone is scared of you. Luckily, I’m not, otherwise, I bet you’d be bored with no one to play with!” 【My dearest is so adorable, I’m practically bleeding from my nose! I can almost smell her perfume!】 【Teacher Seraphina looks calm, but she’s totally been charmed by the cuteness!】 【Teacher Seraphina’s gaze, helpless with a hint of indulgence, I’m kind of shipping it. The high-maintenance celebrity and the steady dancer, knowing but not saying.】 【Teacher Seraphina, don’t let that bad woman cause trouble between you and my dearest! She’s not even worth your attention!】 My lips twitched. Shipping, shipping, always shipping. If your life is so messy, fix it! Stop ‘shipping’ everyone you see! I barely swallowed down my curse words when the director’s voice came through my earpiece: “Dance now!” I immediately stood up and looked around. Oh no, something’s wrong. “What are you waiting for?! Dance!” I continued to play dumb. “Breach of contract fee: three million.” I extended my arm and drew a circle in the air: “Everyone, what would you like to see? I’ll do my best to accommodate.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “299218”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn

My deceased elder brother left me two things: a multi-million dollar company, and my little nephew. The day my nephew was kidnapped, the kidnappers demanded ten million dollars within 24 hours. I immediately called my wife, telling her to withdraw the money from my brother’s personal funds to save him. Her refusal was ice-cold. “You can’t. He had a son, not a money tree. What life is worth ten million?” Her inhuman reply ignited my fury. “The company and the money, they were all left by Michael. It’s only right to spend it on his son!” “Right?” My wife scoffed. “The little money Michael left all those years ago wasn’t even enough for your nephew’s tuition. We’ve shelled out plenty ourselves. I’m just protecting *our* family’s best interests.” I didn’t believe her. I immediately called the school for verification. “Sir, your nephew, Leo, was sent to school with your wife’s assistant’s son. Leo is here in school, it’s the other child who hasn’t shown up, isn’t it?” I asked for a headshot from the assistant’s son’s school file. Staring at the photo, the spitting image of my wife, I smiled. Then, I dialed the kidnappers’ number. “My family has no money. Do what you want.” 1 My sister-in-law, Scarlett, was already frail. Hearing her son had been kidnapped, she collapsed on the spot and was rushed to the ICU. Fearing the kidnappers might realize their mistake, I quickly and secretly picked up my nephew from school and hid him at a friend’s house. I then rushed back to the hospital to see Scarlett. A nurse approached with a bill. “Mr. Alex, Ms. Scarlett’s ICU bill is substantial and requires immediate payment. We need three hundred thousand dollars.” I acknowledged her, dialing the company’s CFO. The phone rang for a long time before it was picked up. The CFO’s voice was hesitant. All company assets Michael left behind were under my wife Victoria’s management. “My apologies, Mr. Alex. Ms. Victoria has instructed that all large expenditures require her personal signature and approval.” “That’s my sister-in-law, a board member of the company! She’s lying in the ICU right now!” “Mr. Alex, we’re very sympathetic, but Ms. Victoria specifically instructed us to prevent operational risks from ’emotional expenditures.’” Risks? My sister-in-law was fighting for her life, and she was calculating risks? I hung up, my heart heavy, and just sat stunned by the ICU doors. Through the glass, I could see Scarlett’s pale face. Victoria finally arrived. She wasn’t alone. Her assistant, Marcus, was with her. They both wore expressions of false concern. Marcus even carried a fruit basket. I stood before Victoria, my voice icy. “What are you doing here?” She smoothed down her coat, a hint of reproach in her eyes. “Alex, don’t be like that. Marcus and I came to see if there’s anything we can do to help.” “Victoria, you’re a hell of an actress. You’re using company money to support this man’s child, and now you…” Marcus immediately stepped forward, looking at me with a pained expression. “Mr. Alex, I know you’re distressed, but Ms. Victoria is in a difficult position too!” Victoria gave Marcus a solicitous glance, then turned to me. “Alex, watch your words. Show some class, please?” I suppressed the surging anger, pointing to the ICU payment window. “My sister-in-law’s medical bills. They need your signature.” Victoria frowned. “I can’t approve it.” “Why not?” “Company funds need to maintain liquidity for unforeseen emergencies. Her illness is a money pit; any investment offers no positive return for the company.” “Besides, we need to secure *our* future. That’s what truly matters.” I felt all the blood drain from my body. “Victoria, you monster!” I clenched my fists. Marcus immediately stepped in front of her. “Alex, what are you doing?!” Victoria peeked out from behind Marcus. Marcus smoothly supported her. “Ms. Victoria, don’t get upset. Mr. Alex is just too worried. He doesn’t understand company operations.” Victoria let out a soft huff. “Ignorance requires accepting reality. The business world has no room for sentimentality.” Victoria handed me a document. An “Emergency Authorization to Manage Company Affairs.” “Sign it. Then I’ll see if finance can squeeze out a few thousand dollars.” I stared at her. “Victoria, does it really have to come to this?” The atmosphere was awkward. Marcus offered a forced smile. “Mr. Alex, Ms. Victoria actually cares about your nephew.” “See, Ms. Victoria just got me this new bulletproof model. Over ten million dollars.” “She said things are unstable outside and we need to upgrade our security. If your nephew comes back safe, I can give him a ride to and from school in this car.” Marcus pulled out a car key from his pocket and pressed it. Down in the parking lot, a brand new Mercedes S680 flashed its lights. News of my nephew’s kidnapping became an excuse for him to get a new car? “Victoria! You have money to buy him a car, but not to ransom my nephew?” I pointed at her. Victoria slapped the document onto the long bench by the ICU entrance. “What do you know? Buying a car comes with a proper invoice, an official expense, tax-deductible. Can a kidnapper give you a receipt?” “Alex, your emotions are unstable right now. You’re not fit to handle company matters.” “Sign it, or I’ll not only cut off Scarlett’s medical funds but also declare you mentally unstable and have you committed.” My fingers trembled with rage. “Get out!” The farce ended unhappily. She used the most professional excuses to pull off the most despicable schemes. Conventional methods wouldn’t work against this viper. I had to be more ruthless than her.

I pawned a vintage motorcycle Michael had left me, just enough to cover Scarlett’s medical expenses. Michael had hired Victoria as a professional manager during his lifetime, hoping to steer the family business onto the right track. He practically orchestrated my marriage to Victoria. I once thought this was Michael’s grand plan, never imagining it was to aid Victoria. In the years we were married, Victoria often said: “Alex, I’ll take care of the business. You just live your life.” I believed her. But she had schemed to steal everything I had. I had to reclaim what belonged to my family. The next day, I went to the company’s headquarters. Pushing open the door to Michael’s top-floor office. The scent of a distinctly high-end perfume—Victoria’s favorite. The office layout had completely changed. Michael’s beloved bookshelves and books were gone. Replaced by sleek, minimalist decor of cold metal and glass. Several cleaners were clearing out miscellaneous items. Among a pile of discarded things, I saw a familiar framed quote. It was a piece personally inscribed by Michael: “Family first, everything else follows.” I rushed over, pulled the framed quote from the trash, and carefully put it aside. “What are you doing at the company?” Victoria walked out, holding a report. “This is my brother’s office!” Victoria glanced at the framed quote. “Strictly speaking, this is the CEO’s office. And I am the acting CEO.” She pointed to the pile of my brother’s belongings. “Outdated structures hinder growth.” She walked closer, reaching for the framed quote, but I stopped her. “This sentimental clutter, which generates zero value, should be purged.” My heart clenched painfully. It hurt so much. She called Michael’s legacy trash! She wasn’t just after Michael’s estate; she wanted to erase every trace of Michael’s legacy here. “Victoria, you ungrateful snake! Without Michael…” “Silence!” Victoria’s face turned ugly, a flicker of disdain in her eyes. “I’ve tripled the company’s market value with my capabilities. What I’ve gained is my rightful reward.” “Sign this ‘Overseas Licensing Agreement for Key Technologies’.” I opened it and saw that it would license several of the company’s most valuable patents at a low price to an offshore company under her control. “I will never sign it.” Victoria wasn’t surprised. She pulled a medical report from her drawer. She looked at the report, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. “I’m pregnant. We’re having a baby.” She looked up at me, her eyes cold. “Idiot, do you know how much risk this agreement mitigates for ‘our future family’? Hundreds of millions!” “My child deserves the best security!” She framed draining the company as being for my own good. “Victoria, you disgust me.” “Disgust?” Victoria let out a short laugh. “The business world only acknowledges winners.” She walked up to me. “Sign it.” I snatched the agreement, throwing it forcefully at her feet. “Get lost!” The agreement scattered across the floor. Victoria calmly smoothed her hair. “You’ll pay for your impulsiveness, Alex. Anger is the most useless thing in this world.” She turned, pressing the intercom on her desk. “Security, please escort Mr. Alex out of the company. Finance, freeze all his spending permissions.”

I was “escorted” by security out of the company Michael had founded. Standing before the familiar building, I felt like an outsider. I needed help. But every one of Michael’s old colleagues and friends I contacted politely declined. Victoria had already spread rumors that I was emotionally unstable due to family changes. She wanted everyone to isolate me. I arranged to meet a respected family friend, hoping he could mediate. When I booked a restaurant table online and went to pay the deposit, a message popped up on my phone: [Notification: Your business card has been suspended by the primary cardholder. For inquiries, please contact Ms. Victoria.] All my consumption cards were linked to company accounts. She had cut off all my financial lifelines. I couldn’t even afford a single meal. My phone chimed—a new social media post from Victoria. The picture showed her and Marcus picking out gifts at a toy store, with a salesperson behind them holding piles of boxes. Beneath the image was a line of text: [Company quarterly perk: birthday gifts for employees’ families.] She was using my brother’s company to provide perks for her secret son. Just then, the doorbell rang. “Mr. Alex, your delivery.” I opened the box to find high-quality knock-off LEGO models from Wish. A moment later, Marcus sent me a message: “Mr. Alex, Ms. Victoria said you’re a bit tight on cash lately. A man shouldn’t be without money when he’s out, so she transferred you 500 dollars. Spend it wisely. This toy set is for Caleb. She said once your nephew is safe, she, as his aunt, should show some appreciation.” It was a blatant insult. My stomach churned, and I immediately rejected the transfer. I would make those two pay! I went to Michael’s study, the only place Victoria hadn’t touched. I had to find a weapon for retaliation, even if it was just a tiny clue. As I thumbed through Michael’s books, his voice and image flashed before my eyes. When I picked up a copy of “Game Theory” that he had reread countless times, I felt something odd about the cover. I peeled back the inner lining of the cover. A stiff business card slipped out. I tremblingly picked up the card. It bore only a name and a phone number. Kira. On the back inner page, in Michael’s handwriting: “Brother, Victoria is a deeply cunning woman, a business prodigy. I made you marry her to revitalize the Sterling Group.” “But if Victoria ever harbored other intentions, you’d need ruthless tactics to break the deadlock.” “Conventional legal channels won’t work against her. You’ll need a more formidable shark to deal with her.” “Go find this Kira person.” “She was an old friend of mine; she left the country because of me. But she will help you.” “Tell her I never forgot her.” Finishing the note, I wiped the dampness from my eyes. Finally, I wasn’t fighting alone. Michael had laid a plan. I dialed the number. “Who is this?” A pleasant female voice. “Ms. Kira, I’m Alex, Michael’s brother. My brother asked me to contact you. I need your help.” The other end of the line was silent for a moment, then a cold laugh. I recounted the company’s situation to her. “Victoria? I know her. The woman who has a calculator for a soul.” “She’s draining the company Michael left behind, using a complex capital maneuver.” “Capital maneuver? She’s mastered your brother’s game?” “I need your help. But right now… I might not be able to afford your fee.” “Fee? Your brother never paid me during his lifetime. I guess I owe him from a past life.” Kira cut me off. “Bringing down someone so utterly devoid of gratitude like Victoria, that in itself is an interesting proposition.” “Send me all the documents. I love dissecting a seemingly foolproof scheme.”

Kira’s actions were lightning fast. The very next morning, she called. “Your family’s situation is worse than I imagined.” My heart sank. “Victoria is a master of finance. She played your brother’s game very well.” “What do you mean?” “She feared you’d use company money, so she laid her trap early.” “The very day the kidnapping happened, under the pretense of mitigating market risks, she funneled all the company’s liquid assets into an offshore long-term real estate trust fund.” My mind buzzed. “What does that mean?” “It means the company has no cash flow left.” “That money is locked in for three years.” “If you want to withdraw it early, you’ll lose at least eighty percent of the principal, and the process is extremely complicated; it’ll take at least ten days, if not longer.” Kira’s tone was serious. “To prevent you from touching the money, she placed a self-destruct lock on the company’s finances.” “She locked herself in too.” I understood. Victoria thought it was my nephew who was kidnapped. She assumed I would use company funds at any cost to save him. So she made the first move, bleeding the company dry. But she miscalculated one thing. One thing that would destroy her. I hung up the phone and drove straight to the company headquarters. This time, I wasn’t stopped. Victoria seemed to have anticipated my arrival; the front desk simply gave me a temporary visitor’s pass. I pushed open the door to the CEO’s office on the top floor. Victoria and Marcus stood together, laughing happily as they pointed at blueprints for a children’s play area. Seeing me enter, Marcus immediately sobered. Victoria slowly put down the blueprints and leaned back in her executive chair. “Had a change of heart? Come to sign that authorization?” Her tone carried a hint of condescension. I ignored her, walking directly to her. “I’m here to talk about the ransom.” Victoria looked as if she’d heard the funniest joke. “Alex, are you still dreaming?” “I’ve made it very clear. The company won’t pay a single dime.” “Your nephew’s life isn’t worth ten million.” She repeated the cold words, her eyes full of contempt. Marcus, beside her, nodded in agreement. “Mr. Alex, Ms. Victoria is also thinking about the company’s long-term development. Don’t let your emotions get the better of you.” I watched them, finding it utterly ironic. “I agree with you.” I said calmly. Victoria paused, clearly not expecting that. “A child’s life is indeed not worth ten million.” I paused, my gaze sweeping over Marcus’s tense face. “Especially when that child’s family doesn’t have that much money.” Victoria’s smile froze. “What exactly are you trying to say?” “I’m saying, the kidnappers didn’t take my nephew.” I pulled out my phone, opening the encrypted video the kidnappers had sent me. In the video, Marcus’s son was tied to a pillar, his mouth gagged. The kidnapper, wearing a mask, spoke: “Our patience is running thin. If we don’t see the money by tomorrow at noon, you’ll be collecting a corpse!” Victoria stared at the screen, the color draining from her face. “No… this can’t be… this is definitely fake!” She shrieked, completely losing her usual composure. “Fake?” I sneered. “Then why don’t you call the school right now and ask?” Victoria fumbled with her phone, her fingers trembling as she found the school teacher’s number. The teacher’s polite but confused voice came through the phone. “Ms. Victoria? Hello. Leo was picked up by his uncle yesterday.” “Impossible!” Victoria’s voice was hoarse. “Then who was absent yesterday?” “Oh, you mean Caleb. His father called in, reporting him sick for three days.” The call ended. The office fell into a dead silence. Victoria’s phone slipped from her hand, falling onto the carpet. Her face was as white as a sheet. She finally understood. The child kidnapped, from start to finish, was never my nephew. It was her and Marcus’s secret son. Victoria lunged at the computer like a madwoman. “Money! Quick! Transfer the money!” She screamed at Marcus, frantically operating the online banking herself. Marcus nodded, equally panicked, and pulled out the company’s security token to authorize the transfer. “But Victoria, the company account is empty.” Victoria didn’t hear him. She entered the amount and clicked ‘transfer’. A red warning box popped up on the screen. [Insufficient available balance. Transaction failed.] She collapsed into her chair, her eyes vacant. She knew. To stop me from using company money, she had personally locked all the funds. She had personally cut off her own son’s lifeline. She violently lifted her head, glaring at me, her eyes filled with venom and desperation. “Alex… you…” I walked to her, enjoying her agony. “So quick to transfer the money. You’re really desperate. It seems he truly is your son!” “I never thought you’d go to such extremes to prevent me from saving my nephew.” “Locking down all the company’s cash.” “Now, it’s your own son on the line.” I mimicked her earlier tone, enunciating each word. “Didn’t you say a child’s life isn’t worth ten million?” Victoria’s lips were bitten raw and bleeding, her body trembling violently. Despair—I was seeing it on this woman’s face for the first time. She suddenly knelt before me. “Alex, I beg you! You… you must have a way, right?”

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The day of my dad’s birthday, I found the car charm I’d spent a week meticulously crafting tossed in the trash. I put away the car keys I was planning to give him and went to confront him, only to be met with a harsh slap across my face. “I raised you this big, and this is all you give me? You complain constantly that we favor your brother and give him all the money, but have you seen the pure gold bracelet Kevin gave me? You still have the nerve to freeload in our house!” “Get out! If you cause any more trouble, I swear I’ll disinherit you!” It was pouring rain, and I was kicked out of the house in my pajamas. I turned around and saw my dad post on SnapChat: “Raising a daughter is worse than raising a dog.” When I saw the gold bracelet on his wrist, I froze. Wasn’t that the same gold-plated bracelet I’d bought him when I got my new car? On my dad’s sixtieth birthday, I had an expensive gift ready for him early that day. I drove my newly purchased car downstairs, then went up with the car keys in hand. The moment I stepped through the door, I found they’d already finished eating. I paused, a flicker of annoyance crossing my face. “Mom, didn’t we agree you’d wait for me to celebrate since I’d be home late?” Before my mom could answer, my brother, Kevin, sneered from the side. “Who do you think you are? You come back empty-handed and still expect a meal?” We’d never gotten along, so I shot back immediately, “No matter what, I don’t constantly drain Mom and Dad’s pockets. Besides, who says I didn’t bring Dad a gift?” I started to pull out the car keys as I spoke. My dad’s car was a decade-old used Honda. It had no AC in winter and no ventilation in summer, but he’d never brought himself to replace it. I’d recently made a decent chunk of money from my business, so I meticulously picked out a brand-new SUV worth a good fifteen thousand dollars as his birthday gift. Before I could finish, Kevin scoffed. “You ungrateful brat. I bought Dad a gold bracelet this year. And you think *that* pathetic thing is a gift? I’ve never seen anyone so shameless.” “Dad thought it was trashy to hang in his car! He tossed it ages ago.” The specific color I wanted for the car wasn’t available at the local dealership; it needed a few more days to arrive. Afraid I’d miss the birthday, I had specially made a car charm in advance and gave it to Dad. My craftsmanship wasn’t perfect, and that charm took me a solid week to make, leaving several holes pricked in my fingers. Kevin’s words made me laugh, but it was a bitter, angry laugh. “Mom, Dad, did you hear what Kevin just said?” My gaze fell on Mom’s evasive eyes, and my expression hardened. “Dad, did you really throw away my gift?” A flicker of guilt crossed Dad’s face, then vanished as he bellowed at me. “Who taught you to talk to your father like that? Are you *questioning* me?” I ignored him, just staring him down. “Dad, I’m just asking you one thing: where’s the gift I gave you?”

Dad’s silence chilled me to the bone. I slammed the door, ready to leave, but Mom stopped me. She pulled me into the bedroom, trying to soothe me. “Lily, I accidentally threw that car charm away, thinking it was trash. Don’t blame your dad.” “Today’s your dad’s sixtieth birthday. Just for my sake, don’t make a fuss over something so small and spoil the day for him.” My heart ached with resentment, but looking at Mom’s tired, worn face, I softened. I reluctantly agreed not to make a scene about the car charm, but all my enthusiasm for giving him the car vanished. I felt listless, unwilling to speak. Mom went out to talk to Dad and Kevin, leaving me alone in the bedroom to calm down. My mind was racing, and I paced restlessly in the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a red corner peeking out from under the pillow. I pulled it out and found it was a property deed. But as far as I knew, we didn’t own any property. Ever since Dad’s business failed, our old house had been sold, and we’d been renting ever since. My heart hammered in my chest. I slowly opened it. Kevin’s name, in big bold letters under the owner’s column, deeply stung my eyes. Kevin had been unemployed since dropping out of community college, struggling to even support himself. Where would he get the money to buy a house? There was only one possibility: Mom and Dad bought it for him. The realization hit me, and a wave of fury surged from my feet to my head. Months ago, I was misdiagnosed with gastric cancer. I called Dad, crying. He was silent for a long time before finally saying, “You know our family’s situation. Your mom and I spent half our lives working to pay off debts. Your illness is a bottomless pit…” The transfer date on the property deed was the *exact same day* I received that terrible misdiagnosis. So, the family wasn’t broke. Buying a house for Kevin was just more important than my life. Thinking this, my heart turned to ice. I clutched the property deed and stormed out of the bedroom.

“Slam!” I threw the property deed heavily in front of Dad. “You bought Kevin a house? The down payment alone must have been over ten thousand dollars. Where did you get the money?” Mom quickly scurried over to calm me. “Lily, what are you talking about? We’re still in debt; where would we get money to buy a house?” I scoffed. “Then what’s this property deed all about?” A flicker of panic crossed Mom’s eyes, but she forced a laugh. “This… this is fake. Your brother’s got a girlfriend, and her family is well-off. He was afraid of being looked down upon, so he made a fake document to keep up appearances.” Did she take me for a fool? I stated plainly, “Fake? Then let’s call the city records office. Faking official documents is a crime.” Mom shut her mouth. Kevin jumped in again. “Lily, don’t be crazy. So what if I have money to buy a house? It’s none of your business!” I didn’t even want to dignify him with a response. I pulled out my phone, ready to call the police. “Since you can’t explain where the money for the house came from, let’s call the police and investigate.” “Smack!” Dad’s slap made my ears ring, yet my mind felt strangely clear. Dad pointed at me, yelling. “What’s all this fuss about? I paid for this house for your brother!” “Your brother is filial; he gave me a solid gold bracelet for my birthday. And you? A worthless, crappy car charm.” “Raising a daughter is worse than raising a dog. We should’ve drowned you the day you were born…” “Get out! Get out, I don’t have a daughter like you!”

In the pouring rain, I was beaten and cursed as I was driven out of the house. My head spun with fury; I don’t even remember how I got downstairs. Just as I sat in the car, trying to compose myself, a SnapChat message from Mom came through. “Lily, don’t argue with your dad. He had a bit to drink today for his birthday, his mind isn’t clear. He didn’t mean to hit you. Don’t worry, Mom has already scolded him, so don’t hold a grudge.” “Be careful on your way home. Mom cured your favorite salted fish for you. Remember to come back and get it in a few days.” “Only you get some. Your dad and brother? We won’t give them any.” In the past, hearing Mom say something like that would have made at least half my anger disappear. Dad always favored Kevin, and while Mom didn’t have much say in the family, she usually sided with me a little more. Like the salted fish – only I loved it in our house. Dad had told her many times not to make it; it was time-consuming and messy, filling the house with a smell. I’d also tried to persuade her, telling her her back wasn’t good, and curing fish took half a day sitting down. Plus, it was cheap and delicious to buy outside now. Mom wouldn’t listen. “If my daughter likes it, Mom will make it. What they sell outside has additives; Mom’s is all-natural, good for your health. You work so hard, with Mom’s salted fish, you can eat two more bowls of rice.” She’d rub her back, carefully packing the salted fish into my bag as if it were treasure. Every time I saw her like that, I’d instinctively soften. But now, that property deed kept flashing before my eyes. Did Mom really think that property deed was fake? I didn’t reply. Just as I was about to drive away, an algorithm pushed a post onto my feed.

I don’t know why, but I clicked on the post. The title was “Raising a daughter is worse than raising a dog!” I recognized it as Dad’s post because he’d attached a screenshot from a security camera. It was a still of me, just moments ago, holding the property deed and confronting him. Though it was only my back, anyone familiar with me would recognize the out-of-control, raging woman as me. In Dad’s description, I became an unforgivable, unfilial daughter, while Kevin was portrayed as a thoughtful, model son. Someone commented below, suggesting he might be showing favoritism towards his son. Dad quickly defended himself: “What do you mean favoritism towards my son? Our family values family bonds above all! Kevin has never caused his mom and me any trouble since he was little, and he even gave me a pure gold bracelet for my birthday.” He even gave an example. A few months ago, he saw me at a restaurant celebrating a stranger’s birthday and giving them two bottles of expensive wine. Then, for his own birthday, I only gave him a worthless car charm. “This kind of daughter is raised to be someone else’s property! We should have drowned her at birth!” I scrolled through in silence, feeling utterly powerless. That man was my client; my entire year’s business hinged on him. My client had no other hobbies, just a fondness for good wine. I’d specifically pulled strings to get him two bottles of rare, vintage wine. Later, Mom secretly told me Dad was upset. I tried to explain that it was for a client. But Dad wouldn’t let it go, constantly mocking me whenever we met. To avoid making Mom uncomfortable caught in the middle, I again pulled strings to buy him two bottles of equally expensive wine. I never imagined he’d cherry-pick the worst parts, leaving out all context, turning it into undeniable proof of my disrespect. With pictures and “facts,” the online sentiment quickly turned against me.

“This woman is terrifying! She must have rage issues!” “A daughter like this is worse than no daughter at all!” “This type of woman is just asking for trouble; are outsiders more important than her own father?” “This is why people in our country don’t want to have daughters. Girls always abandon their families for outsiders!” Kevin was also jumping in the comments, stirring the pot. “My sister is in the import-export business; she even has a small company. For Dad’s sixtieth birthday, such an important day, she only gave him a car charm. Who knows if she’s really broke or just stingy with Dad. We can’t say anything, because if we do, she’ll just accuse Mom and Dad of favoring their son.” Dad replied below: “Even if she gave me a gold bracelet, I wouldn’t want it. Who knows if her money came from some shady dealings?” “Not like my good son. He earns his money honestly, and Dad is happy to receive it.” The two of them portrayed a perfect picture of fatherly love and filial piety. My blood boiled. When I started college, Mom and Dad cut off my allowance and tuition, claiming money was tight. I worked tirelessly, juggling multiple part-time jobs, just to scrape through university. After graduation, I started my own business. The moment I had some savings, Mom would cry poor, and soft-hearted, I gave her a card, transferring money into it every month. In fact, many of the items in their home were purchased by me out of my own pocket. In contrast, Kevin spent a fortune on community college only to drop out. Now, he sat at home all day, doing nothing, relying on others for support, and gave Dad a cheap, gold-plated bracelet whose authenticity was questionable. Yet *he* was the model son? The community was small, and Dad’s post didn’t hide his IP address. Soon, “righteous” netizens were threatening to dox me. “Expose her! This unfilial daughter’s true colors should be seen by her business partners. Let’s see who dares to work with someone like her again!” My vision blurred. I’d worked my ass off for years; I absolutely couldn’t let this fabricated post ruin my career. Clutching my phone, I rushed upstairs, determined to make Dad take down the post. The front door of the house was ajar, and snippets of three voices drifted through the slightly open gap.

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After my best friend and I died, we both simultaneously reincarnated as the unborn fetuses in my mother-in-law Eleanor’s womb. At that moment, the original fetus in her belly had already stopped beating due to a fall. Just as Mom was heartbroken and about to undergo an induced abortion, my best friend and I quickly intervened. 【No, Mom! If you have an abortion now, you’ll just be handing an opportunity to your husband’s old flame’s daughter!】 【Exactly! Don’t you dare go through with it! We’re both alive and well in here!】 Mom, who was just about to sign the consent form, froze. I quickly wiggled inside her belly, revealing a secret only we knew. 【It’s me, Mom! Your daughter-in-law! You organized my funeral with your own hands, and secretly sent me so many gifts to take to the afterlife, remember?】 【To come back, we gave away everything we had in the afterlife! We’re still racking up spiritual debt for this!】 My best friend and I spoke one after another, terrified Mom would agree to the abortion. Mom, however, was stunned. She looked down at her belly, forcing a bitter, self-deprecating laugh. “I must be grief-stricken to the point of hearing things.” With that, she reached for the pen again. Panicked, I flipped over in her belly, making sure she felt a distinct kick. 【No, Mom! It really is me! I’m back to help you!】 【Yeah, yeah! If you die now, we’ll have to go back to suffering in the afterlife!】 Mom gasped, her mouth open, and whispered. “Is it really you? Sophia?” I nodded furiously inside her belly, forgetting she couldn’t see me. My best friend groaned at my clumsiness and quickly chimed in. 【And me, her best friend! You absolutely cannot go through with the abortion now, or you’ll just be handing everything over to your husband’s first love’s daughter on a silver platter!】 Seeing that Mom still didn’t understand, my best friend and I began to explain the whole story, back and forth. My death was orchestrated by Alex, all so he could be with his first love, Jessica. And my best friend… she was just an innocent casualty. Jessica wasn’t just Alex’s first love, the one he could never let go of. She was also the daughter of the woman my father-in-law, Richard, was completely obsessed with when he was younger! Richard and Alex not only knew about this, but they also planned for Mom to never have another child, so they could eventually bring Jessica into the family as their own, as if she were a daughter! By then, Mom would not only lose her fertility forever, but she’d also be unknowingly raising the child of her husband’s old flame! Mom listened to us, her face paling, and abruptly stood up: “So, all these years, Richard kept finding excuses to go abroad—it was all to see *that woman*!?” I clenched my tiny fists, responding furiously. 【Yes! He took Alex with him! They’ve been scheming against us for ages!】 【Mom, I spent a fortune in the afterlife to get us some serious powers, and I even managed to make us boys! We *have* to make those two despicable men pay for what they did!】 My best friend was seething with indignation. 【Not only that, Mom. You thought you just lost your footing and fell, right? No, they deliberately poured water there, setting a trap for you!】 Mom was absolutely livid, and my best friend and I immediately felt uncomfortable, quickly reassuring her. 【Mom, don’t get too angry too fast. You need to steady yourself first. That’s how we’ll get our revenge.】 After I finished, my best friend suddenly remembered something important and quickly spoke up. 【But before all that, could you please go and say some prayers for me? The afterlife… it’s expensive, Mom.】 Hearing us, Mom waved off the nurse and turned to leave.

She bought a large bouquet of fresh flowers and candles, then drove to a suburban cemetery. As she paid her respects, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness: “To think you’re still worrying about survival on the other side… it breaks my heart.” I interrupted her somber thoughts: 【Please don’t be sad, Mom. We have important things to do later.】 【Exactly! The most crucial thing now is to get justice for us, and help you reclaim everything that’s rightfully yours.】 Just then, an unpleasant voice came from behind us: “Aunt Eleanor, what are you doing here, mourning that short-lived person?” Jessica, arm in arm with Alex, her tone dripping with impatience. “The doctor said the baby couldn’t be saved and you need an abortion immediately. Running off like this just makes everyone worry.” Alex stood beside her, his face grim. “Mom, don’t make a scene. Come back to the hospital with us.” Inside Mom’s belly, I was absolutely fuming. 【Pfft! Worry? They’re probably worried we’re not dead *enough*! Those despicable bastards!】 My best friend was just as enraged, grumbling. 【Are you hearing this? Is that how a human being talks? Your own mother disappears, and instead of asking if she’s safe, you immediately blame her—this son truly doesn’t deserve the way you raised him!】 Mom’s body visibly stiffened. She stared at Alex, her voice trembling slightly. “Alex, don’t you have anything else to say to your mother?” Alex avoided her gaze, his tone hardening. “What’s the point of saying any of that now? Getting back to the hospital and taking care of business is what’s most important.” Jessica quickly jumped in. “That’s right, Aunt Eleanor. Facing the pain now is better than letting it drag on. You take care of yourself, and maybe you’ll have another chance later.” Her words sounded like comfort, but every single one was a knife stabbing at Mom’s heart. 【Bullshit! She’s practically cursing you to never have children again!】 I wished I could jump out right then and kick her. Mom took a deep breath, her chest heaving. My best friend and I could both feel her sadness. “Fine, I’ll go back with you.” Mom suddenly became calm, even forcing a smile. 【You’re really going?!】 My best friend sounded panicked. I, however, understood Mom’s meaning. 【Yes! Why not? Just wait and see how Mom slaps them both in the face!】 Mom ignored the two of them, turning and walking away. Alex and Jessica exchanged glances, probably thinking Mom had finally accepted her fate, and hurried to follow her. Back at the hospital, the atmosphere was oppressive. Jessica acted like the lady of the house, ordering nurses around one moment, then “comforting” Mom the next. “Aunt Eleanor, don’t force yourself. It is what it is. The baby being gone is God’s will; you need to accept it.” Alex sat nearby on the couch, head down, playing on his phone, only occasionally echoing Jessica’s sentiments. “Mom, Jessica’s right. Just listen to the doctors.” Mom’s eyes were closed; she didn’t say a word. 【Oh my god, I can’t take this anymore! Has Alex completely lost his damn mind? What kind of dark magic has Jessica put him under?!】 My best friend was restless beside me. 【Calm down, wait for it. Wait for the doctor.】 Even though I was furious, I knew we had to keep our composure. Just as I was thinking this, the door opened, and the doctor who had recommended the abortion walked in. “Mrs. Richard, have you made a decision? If you’re ready, we’ll schedule the procedure.” Jessica immediately cut in. “Doctor, Aunt Eleanor has made up her mind! She agrees to the surgery! Please schedule it now!” Mom opened her eyes, her gaze sweeping over Alex and Jessica. “Who said I agreed? I want another check-up.” Alex shot up from his seat. “Mom! What are you doing? No matter how many times you check, the result will be the same!” Jessica pouted. “Aren’t you just making things difficult for the doctor? The sooner it’s done, the sooner you can relax.” “I want a check-up.” Mom repeated, her eyes fixed. The doctor, probably used to dealing with all sorts of distraught family members, simply nodded and agreed. Once in the ultrasound room, Jessica’s mouth didn’t stop, every word dripping with sarcasm. Alex remained silent, tacitly approving all of Jessica’s words and actions. But after a while, the doctor’s expression changed. He stared at the screen, letting out an incredulous gasp. “This… how is this possible? The heartbeats have returned, and they’re incredibly strong!” Alex and Jessica, hearing the commotion, rushed over. “Doctor, what did you say?” Alex looked utterly bewildered. “Impossible! You said the heartbeats had stopped!” Jessica shrieked. The doctor ignored them completely, his full attention on the screen. “Not just that! Mrs. Richard is carrying twins! Both boys, and they’re developing perfectly!” “Twins?! And boys?!”

Grandpa had arrived. He must have heard the news and rushed over, his face a mix of shock and uncertainty. 【Well, well, if it isn’t the old jerk himself!】 Max sneered. Alex and Jessica’s faces instantly turned deathly pale. Especially Jessica, her expression was like she’d seen a ghost. Grandpa practically lunged at the ultrasound screen, his breathing ragged. “Doctor, are you absolutely sure? It’s really two boys?” “Absolutely! Mr. Richard, look, both heartbeats are strong and clear.” The doctor pointed to the screen, explaining. Grandpa looked at Mom, his eyes incredibly complex. After a long moment, as if making a sudden, firm decision, he spoke to Alex in a gravelly voice. “From today on, your mother needs complete rest. Don’t you dare disturb her without reason!” Alex and Jessica were unceremoniously escorted out of the room by Grandpa. As Jessica was being led out, she struggled. “Uncle Richard, we were just worried about Aunt Eleanor…” Mom gently stroked her belly, a smile playing on her lips, tinged with sadness. 【Mom, don’t be sad over that ungrateful idiot!】 I quickly wiggled my tiny hands and feet inside her belly. 【Exactly!】 Max immediately chimed in, 【Don’t get upset and hurt yourself, or those two jerks will just be happy!】 Mom took a deep breath. Right, now wasn’t the time for sadness. Grandpa was incredibly efficient. That same afternoon, Mom was transferred to the top-floor VIP suite. She was even assigned a dedicated nurse and nutritionist. Mom lay on the soft hospital bed, her face expressionless. 【Finally, a break.】 I stretched my tiny limbs inside Mom’s belly. 【This place is way more comfortable. You need to take it easy, Mom.】 【Seriously, I was so stressed out earlier, terrified you’d actually sign that paper.】 Max shivered, still a bit shaken. Mom’s hand rested gently on her belly, her eyes slowly firming with determination. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone manipulate me again.” The next few days were calm. Grandpa visited Mom’s belly daily, asking the doctors about our condition, ensuring his two grandsons were well. His attitude towards Mom also softened considerably; he even proactively suggested getting her a more comfortable car. Mom simply responded faintly. She knew this newfound kindness was entirely dependent on the children in her belly, and therefore, incredibly fragile.

Days turned into weeks. Max and I tried to be as well-behaved as possible inside, and the pregnancy proceeded surprisingly smoothly. During this time, Alex tried to visit a few times, but was always turned away with the excuse that Mom needed undisturbed rest. Grandpa remained noncommittal; his entire focus was on his soon-to-be-born sons. Jessica had also quieted down, no longer showing up in person, but her petty actions never stopped. For example, rumors mysteriously circulated around the hospital about Mom being a “high-risk, older mother” and that “the babies might not be healthy.” Or, Grandpa would occasionally receive anonymous calls, subtly implying that Mom was emotionally unstable and unfit to raise children. But none of it could shake Grandpa’s deeply ingrained preference for male heirs. The Richards had plenty of money; as long as it wasn’t a serious illness, they wouldn’t care. Mom didn’t even bother investigating who was behind the sabotage; she simply quietly instructed her staff to gather evidence. Finally, the day of delivery arrived. Mom’s labor was astonishingly smooth. In less than ten minutes, Max and I arrived, one after another. When the doctor came out to announce the good news, Grandpa was so excited he nearly cried tears of joy, shaking the doctor’s hand repeatedly in gratitude. Mom was wheeled back to her room, exhausted but her eyes bright. The nurse held us both. “Mr. Richard, look, the elder young master’s eyes and brows are just like yours, and the younger young master looks so clever.” Grandpa leaned in to look, a continuous smile on his face. He examined us carefully, his eyes full of warmth. I mustered all my tiny strength and beamed a smile at Grandpa. Grandpa was immediately filled with surprise and joy. “He smiled! He smiled at me! This child, he’s destined to be close to me!” Max was not to be outdone, waving his little hand at Grandpa. Max and I took turns charming the old man, and we scored a ton of cash from him. This left Alex and Jessica absolutely furious. That night, the nursery door was gently pushed open. A shadowy figure crept in stealthily, heading straight for my incubator. 【Oh no! It must be Jessica, coming to do something to us!】 【It’s okay, watch this.】 Max said, and immediately began to cry loudly. Not wanting to be left behind, I also started wailing. The next second, the lights in the room flashed on. Mom and Grandpa burst in together. The nurse, caught red-handed, froze in place, her face as white as a sheet. “What are you trying to do to my grandson?!” Grandpa’s voice was trembling. The nurse collapsed to her knees, stammering incoherently. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, I was just looking at the babies…” “Looking at the babies requires sneaking around in the middle of the night?” Mom immediately put on a distraught act, clutching Grandpa’s hand. “Richard! Someone is trying to harm us! If we hadn’t found out, what would have happened to our babies?!” Grandpa was absolutely furious and immediately summoned the hospital administration. Under intense pressure, the nurse quickly confessed that she’d been instructed to ‘take the babies and make it look like an accident.’ As for the person who instructed her, she only said she was contacted via anonymous calls, received money, and didn’t know their specific identity. But everyone knew exactly who it was. After this incident, Grandpa’s security measures were elevated to the highest level. He personally selected trustworthy nannies and bodyguards, brought Mom and us back to the family estate, and strictly limited Alex and Jessica’s visits. Jessica clearly sensed the change in circumstances and temporarily chose to remain silent. But only a few days later, Alex and Jessica arrived uninvited. Jessica’s face was pale, her eyes swollen red. The moment she walked in, she dropped to her knees before Grandpa, startling everyone

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On the day we were supposed to get our marriage license, my fiancée, Seraphina Dawson, was wearing a brand-new silver necklace. The moment I saw her, I lunged forward and kicked her, sending her sprawling to the ground. My parents, her parents, they stood there, frozen in shock. She looked up at me, dazed and confused, as I lifted my foot again, ready to deliver another blow. “What are you doing? Stop kicking me! If you kick me again, I’m not marrying you!” she shrieked. “Good!” her mother snapped. “That suits me just fine!” My gaze was locked on the silver chain around her neck. “I’m asking you.” My voice was disturbingly calm, devoid of any warmth. “Who gave you this necklace?” Her body stiffened. Her eyes darted around, betraying a flicker of panic. “Wh-why are you asking?” “I’ll ask one more time.” I tightened my grip on her arm, enunciating each word. “Who gave it to you?” Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the dust and grime, making her look utterly disheveled. “Julian, you’re hurting me…” She tried to play the victim, hoping to get away with it. But she didn’t know. The moment she put on that necklace, it was a fight to the bitter end, and I wouldn’t stop until one of us was broken. Watching her, I couldn’t hold back. I kicked her again! Seraphina cried out in agony! I stared intently into her eyes. “Have you forgotten?” “The birthday gift I gave you was a platinum bracelet.” “All the jewelry in your closet—your necklaces, earrings, rings—they’re all platinum and K gold.” “I’ve known you for ten years. When have you ever worn silver?” Whispers began to ripple through the crowd. The City Hall was bustling, and our dramatic scene had already drawn every eye. She took a deep breath, as if making a monumental decision. The next second, she suddenly broke free from my grasp and scrambled to her feet. Clutching her face, she began to wail. Her cries were heartbreaking, tearing through the air, enough to make anyone grieve. “Julian, what is wrong with you?” She cried and accused me, her voice just loud enough for everyone around to hear. “It’s just a necklace! My best friend gave it to me for my birthday, and I thought the weather was nice today, so I wanted to wear it with my outfit. Is that wrong?” Now she was turning it all around on me. “The bracelet you gave me is safely put away. I just changed my necklace, and you have to hit me in front of all these people?” “Do you not love me anymore?” Her words instantly ignited the onlookers’ “sense of justice.” “Oh my God, he’s beating his fiancée in the street just for a necklace?” “He looks so respectable, but he’s just a wolf in sheep’s clothing!” “He’s laying hands on her before they’re even married? What’ll happen after?” The murmurs and pointing fingers crashed over me like a tidal wave. My parents couldn’t stand it anymore and quickly pulled me aside. “Son, what on earth is going on?” My mother’s eyes were red with worry. My father clapped me on the shoulder, his voice low. “We trust you, Julian. You’re not a reckless man.”

The crowd’s emotions were fully inflamed by her performance. “Jerk!” “Call off the wedding! Don’t marry a man like that!” “Run, girl, run!” Their angry words, a torrent of insults, threatened to drown me. Just then, she suddenly raised her hand and pointed to my secretary, Chloe, who stood a little distance behind me. Chloe, clutching a stack of files, looked utterly astonished. “Is it because of her?!” Seraphina’s voice was sharp and furious. “Julian, are you going to abandon me for her?!” All eyes instantly converged on Chloe. Chloe was a fresh graduate, completely unprepared for such a scene. Her face instantly drained of color, and she clutched her files, unsure of what to do. I disdained explaining myself to a crowd of strangers. I strode towards Seraphina. She saw the murderous glint in my eyes and recoiled a step. “What are you doing?! Everyone’s watching!” I completely ignored her clamor. Reaching her, I kicked her again. Her clean, neat clothes were already disheveled, marred by several distinct shoe marks. I lunged, and before she could react, I ripped the necklace from her neck. I held the necklace up to her face, almost touching her skin. I lowered my voice, to a volume only we could hear, and pressed her again: “I’ll ask one more time.” “Why did you dare to wear it?” Her eyes flickered wildly, her lips trembling, but she still tried to bluff. “Are you going to ruin everything we have for a cheap necklace? Julian, you’ve disappointed me so much!” In the standoff, Seraphina suddenly clutched her abdomen, her face instantly turning ashen. “Ah…” She cried out in pain, her body swayed, as if she might collapse at any moment. “My stomach… it hurts so much…” Her parents’ faces changed instantly. They rushed to her side, supporting her. “Seraphina, what’s wrong?” She leaned into her mother’s arms, weakly raising her head, her tear-filled eyes fixed on me. “Julian, don’t push me…” Her voice was choked with tears, full of grievance and despair. “I found out I’m pregnant two days ago!” Boom! Those words, like a bomb, detonated in the crowd. The entire place erupted in gasps. Even my parents were stunned, staring in shock at her flat stomach. Pregnant? I found it utterly laughable. “Really?”

I spat out the two words, my eyes full of mockery. My reaction clearly enraged her father. The man who had been silently observing finally spoke. He didn’t inquire about his daughter’s well-being, nor did he question why I had laid hands on her. He simply frowned, speaking to me in an unyielding, commanding tone: “Julian, stop this nonsense!” “Our joint project is set to launch next week. The signing ceremony is all prepared; we can’t have any mishaps now!” I looked at him, my heart sinking further and further. This was Seraphina’s father. For the sake of profit, for the partnership with the Hayes family, he could completely disregard his daughter’s life. Even after I publicly struck her, all he cared about was whether the project would be affected. The chilling depths of his self-interest, the cold calculus of his priorities, were laid bare right before my eyes. I stared at him coldly. “If you want the project to proceed smoothly, then shut her up and let me handle this.” My words stunned him. He probably hadn’t expected me to speak to him with such defiance. A flicker of hesitation and struggle crossed his clouded eyes. Just for a second. Then he made his choice. He actually let go of Seraphina’s hand and pushed the trembling Seraphina towards me. “Julian, talk to Seraphina properly. Don’t… don’t let things get out of hand.” Seraphina stared at her father, disbelief etched on her face. “No…” As Seraphina was pushed directly in front of me, I lifted my foot and kicked her hard in the stomach. She flew backwards, landing on her knees, clutching her stomach in agony! I looked down at her, my voice ice-cold: “You said you were pregnant, didn’t you? I just kicked you in the stomach, and there’s no sign of blood!” She shrieked, wrenching free from her mother’s grasp, and snatched her phone from her bag. “I’m calling the police! This is assault! I’m going to have you arrested!” Her father’s face instantly changed. “Don’t you dare call the police!” He lunged forward, grabbed her phone, and violently slammed it to the ground! A sharp *crack* echoed through the air as the screen shattered into a spiderweb of cracks. Everyone was stunned. Why? Why wouldn’t he let her call the police? His daughter was assaulted, and not only did he not pursue it, he even stopped her from calling the authorities? “If you won’t call, I will.” In front of everyone, I calmly unlocked my phone screen, found the number I knew by heart, and pressed the dial button. Seraphina’s face instantly drained of all color. Like a madwoman, she lunged at me, desperate to snatch my phone. “No! Julian, don’t call the police! Please, I beg you!” For the first time, her voice was laced with genuine terror and pleading. No longer that feigned sob story from before. Her parents also reacted, rushing towards me. Her mother even dropped to her knees with a desperate plea at my feet, clutching my legs and crying: “Julian! I’m begging you! Let’s talk this out, please don’t make a scene!” “You absolutely cannot call the police! Please!”

I held up my ringing phone, looking down coldly at the family kneeling at my feet, their desperation laid bare for all to see. “What are you so afraid of?” The calm, practiced voice of the emergency dispatcher came through the receiver: “Hello, 911 emergency, how may I help you?” I spoke calmly: “Hello, I’d like to report a crime.” The police arrived quickly. Perhaps due to the unusual location—City Hall—they were on the scene almost immediately. I pointed to the silver necklace lying on the ground, the one I had ripped off, and addressed the lead officer. “Officer, I’d like to report something.” “This woman… she is not my fiancée.” With that single statement, the entire scene fell into a deathly silence once more. Everyone stared at me as if I were insane. Seraphina’s body swayed, almost collapsing to the ground. I ignored their reactions and calmly pulled a folded document from the inner pocket of my suit. I unfolded the document and handed it to the officer. It was a hospital allergy test report. “My fiancée, Seraphina Dawson, is severely allergic to silver products.” “It’s a top-level, life-threatening allergy.” “The report states it clearly: a ‘critical’ risk assessment.” “Let alone wearing it around her neck, even direct skin contact for more than a minute would immediately trigger acute anaphylactic shock. Without prompt medical attention, it could be fatal.” I paused, my gaze like a sharpened blade, slowly turning to the fake Seraphina, whose face was now ghastly pale. I pointed at her, enunciating each word clearly for everyone present: “From the moment I saw her until I ripped off this necklace, at least an hour passed.” “She wore this pure silver necklace for over an hour, yet she is completely unharmed.” My voice echoed through the entrance of City Hall, every word a hammer blow striking the hearts of everyone present. I looked into her pupils, which were constantly constricting with fear, and asked the question that had been churning in my mind for an entire week. “Now, tell me.” “Who exactly are you?” “And where is my real fiancée, Seraphina?” The surrounding onlookers finally understood, their expressions shifting from sympathy to horror and anger as they looked at the fake Seraphina. “Oh my God! She’s a fake?”

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