Author: Momo Chan

I’m the heiress of a capitalist empire, and for three years, I’ve been in an arranged marriage with an icy, aloof commander who has never touched me. During a camping trip in the countryside, I went to his tent to spend the night. He frowned, refusing to take my luggage. “Tonight… isn’t appropriate.” I froze, and suddenly, subtitles appeared before my eyes: [LMAO, the Male Lead’s ‘white moonlight’ is back, and the Second Female Lead is still clowning herself? Does she really think her money can buy his love?] [Does she even know? The cold ML is actually addicted to intimacy, but he’d rather take cold showers for three years than touch her. He saved himself for the FL all this time. He loves her SO much~] [The FL came back just as the arranged marriage contract expires. After abstaining for so long, their reunion s*x is going to be insane! As for the heiress, she’s just a plot device to spice things up.] I gripped my luggage handle and smiled. “Okay. I’ll find somewhere else to sleep tonight.” 1. [Wait, what? The Second Female Lead isn’t clinging to him?] [Playing hard to get, obviously. She’s relentless. Heh, let’s see if the ML even cares!] [Lol, she’s a capitalist heiress. With her background, who would dare take her in?] Sensing the awkward atmosphere, a few of Liam’s comrades tried to smooth things over: “Don’t mind him, sis. Liam’s just a bit of a germaphobe. He never shakes hands, and even eats from a separate tray.” “Yeah, plenty of high-ranking officers tried to set him up with their daughters, and some girls even chased him to the camp. Liam never budged. When he suddenly announced his marriage, we all thought hell had frozen over!” “Some other girls came along on the trip. Why don’t you bunk with them tonight, sis?” I looked at Liam. I said nothing. Liam wasn’t wearing casual clothes. His white shirt was buttoned all the way to the top, meticulous and severe. His dark eyes were deep, cold, and abstinent. His brows furrowed with an impersonal chill. He glanced at Bella standing beside him, his voice flat. “Whatever you want.” My heart ached, and I clenched the hem of my dress. They were right. Liam did have a cleanliness fixation. He never shared personal items and never initiated physical contact. Not even with me, his wife of three years. But there were exceptions. “Oh? Liam has a germ phobia? I didn’t know…” Bella covered her mouth, her voice surprised. She was pale, slender, and graceful, like a delicate bamboo stalk. Dressed simply, she spoke softly and elegantly. She had just returned from studying abroad and was already appointed as a translator for foreign affairs. Her family was scholarly and well-connected. Childhood sweethearts with Liam, a perfect match. She must be the ‘white moonlight’ female lead mentioned in the subtitles. Bella blinked her watery, spirited eyes, looking apologetically at Liam. “Then was it bad that I borrowed so much of your gear just now?” Liam frowned slightly. But he said nothing. It was an era where arranged marriages were being abolished, and free love was the talk of the town. The camping site was near my mother’s hometown. Many locals knew about my arranged marriage with Liam. Seeing this, the villagers’ gazes turned mocking. A wife whose marriage contract was up, publicly refused entry to her husband’s tent. The implication was obvious. To ease the tension, someone suggested with a laugh: “Since we’re splitting up, we’re short on tents. Let’s draw lots for tents tonight. Whoever you draw, you bunk with. How about it?” “Warning you all, I snore like thunder. No take-backs if you get me!” “Count me in! Who else?” The men chimed in enthusiastically. They hadn’t intended for the women to participate. Besides two married couples, Bella and I were the only single women present. I had been publicly kicked out by Liam. And I didn’t want to share a tent with Bella. Biting my lip, I raised my hand. “I’m in.” 2. Silence fell instantly. Liam snapped his head toward me, his gaze cold as ice. His jaw tightened, his voice dark. “Elise, stop it.” He was angry I embarrassed him. Even if he didn’t like the woman. Even if he just kicked her out. A man couldn’t tolerate his wife publicly cucking him. I pressed my lips together and looked away. A comrade tried to intervene. “Sis, you’re a woman, this isn’t really appropriate…” I forced a polite smile. My voice was soft but firm. “Since I’m the reason we’re short on tents, I can’t just take one for myself.” “We’re all comrades here. In tough conditions, there shouldn’t be special treatment. Managing for one night won’t hurt.” I am the heiress of the Jiang family. Even if I was rejected by my husband of three years. I wouldn’t abandon my pride. My words silenced the crowd. They praised my spirit, saying women hold up half the sky. Bella’s eyes darted to Liam, then she blushed and raised her hand too. “Since Elise put it that way, as a translator, I can’t ask for special treatment either.” Amidst the agreement, Liam stared at me, his voice low. “I’m in too.” The subtitles exploded: [Here it comes! This is the scene! The ML and FL draw the same tent, and the ML’s addiction takes over! The smut is going to be amazing~] [The Second Female Lead is a married woman, yet she joins in just to make the ML jealous? Hilarious. Does he even care? He only agreed because our FL joined!] [She’s going to lose it when she doesn’t draw the ML~ She’ll throw a tantrum and demand the FL switch with her, but the ML will shut her down. So sweet~] [She tries to pull the FL’s hair and gets shoved to the ground by the ML. So satisfying!] [It’s 2024, who thinks an arranged marriage makes you the ‘real wife’? Our FL is his true love, his white moonlight for years!] [Later, the Second Female Lead refuses to divorce and threatens them with the ML’s career, making the FL cry. Luckily, the ML destroys her family. She even tries to kidnap the FL and gets tortured to death by the kidnappers. Deserved!] I felt cold all over. I didn’t want to believe it. But my heart pounded. I didn’t know if the subtitles were true. But if I didn’t do those things… If I didn’t stand in their way and obediently divorced Liam… Would those terrible things still happen? 3. The results of the draw came out quickly. “Those with matching numbers share a tent. No take-backs!” Everyone revealed their numbers. Sure enough, Liam and Bella drew the same number. Many present knew their history. Though they didn’t jeer aloud, they watched with anticipation. Bella blushed, looking at Liam shyly. “This… isn’t very appropriate… Maybe I should switch with Elise?” Liam frowned. His dark eyes looked at me with a warning. The subtitles scrolled: [The FL is so elegant and kind. She offered to switch so the ML wouldn’t be in a tough spot. Unlike someone who’s about to throw a fit~] [Lol, just say Elise’s name! But the ML is more anxious than her. Seeing the FL want to switch, he tensed up immediately, afraid she’d be eaten by another man. Omg, shipping them so hard!] [Seriously, the Second Female Lead is pathetic. He rejected her at the start, and she still forced her way into the draw. Embarrassing!] Meeting Liam’s intense gaze. My heart soured. My knuckles turned white gripping the lot. I didn’t want to embarrass myself further, so I smiled deliberately. “No need. Let’s stick to the draw.” The person who drew the same number as me was Mark, my childhood friend from the village. Our parents had jokingly arranged a marriage for us when we were kids. We drifted apart after I got married. I sat next to him, our shoulders touching. Swallowing the bitterness, I avoided looking at Liam. I placed my hand on Mark’s arm and smiled at him, pretending to be calm. “I’m counting on you tonight.” Mark stiffened. He wanted to pull away, but seeing my red-rimmed eyes, he didn’t move. The crowd went silent. The subtitles were shocked: [What’s happening? Why isn’t she throwing a tantrum? How will the ML defend the FL and start their romance?] [Does she think hooking up with her ex will make the ML jealous? Lol, look at him, does he care? It just makes her look like a cheater. Her morals are trash!] [Talking about morals is rich coming from people shipping an affair.] [How is it the same? The ML and FL are true love! The Second Female Lead is just a squatter in the nest! A relic of feudal arranged marriages. After the divorce tonight, she’s irrelevant!] [Disgusting. Flirting with her ex-fiance in public. No man can tolerate that humiliation. Just wait for the ML’s revenge!] Liam’s long fingers clenched into a fist, knuckles white. His voice was deep and magnetic. Calm, but with a hint of threat. “My wife is drunk. I won’t trouble Mr. Chen.” “I apologize on her behalf. Mr. Chen, please exchange your lot with mine.” 4. I looked up in shock. I met Liam’s dark gaze. A storm seemed to brew in his deep eyes. The pressure was suffocating. I had never seen Liam like this. He seemed furious. Even his usual cold facade was crumbling. Thinking of what the subtitles just said… I was terrified of what would happen if he grabbed me. Instinctively, I leaned closer to Mark. Pressing my lips together, I tried to keep my voice steady. “No need. I haven’t been drinking.” Liam’s gaze grew darker. He took a deep breath, his voice becoming softer. Like a snake coaxing its prey. “Elise, come here. Be good.” Sensing the tension, others tried to mediate. “Sis, Liam knows he was wrong. Don’t be mad. Husband and wife shouldn’t sleep apart.” “We were just joking around. Don’t let it ruin the mood.” “Commander Liam hasn’t seen Bella in ages. Even if they’re old classmates, the past is in the past. Don’t overthink it, sis.” Bella smiled sadly. “Yes, Elise. No matter who is in Liam’s heart, you are his wife now. Clinging to Mr. Chen like this…” I froze. Humiliation washed over me. The subtitles were going crazy: [Die, b*tch! So ungrateful, cucking the ML in public!] [Why did the ML switch? Just go to the tent with the FL! I’m a VIP member, get to the smut already!] [The ML is probably afraid the FL can’t handle it. He has an addiction and hasn’t touched a woman in years. It’s going to be rough! Maybe he wants to vent his frustrations on the Second Female Lead first so he doesn’t hurt the FL~] [True. The FL is back, and he’s divorcing the Second Female Lead soon. Might as well use her one last time. Besides, didn’t she always want him? Now she’s playing innocent with her ex? Disgusting!] [Exactly. She’s been throwing herself at him for years. Now she’s acting pure? Can’t she see the ML hasn’t showered and is about to explode?] I looked up. I saw Bella sitting next to Liam, asking him concerned questions. Liam’s pale skin was flushed. Veins popped on the hand clutching the lot. His Adam’s apple bobbed, as if suppressing something. Meeting his burning gaze, I lowered my head like I’d been burned. Holding back tears. In three years of marriage, Liam had been a dutiful husband. Polite, caring. But no matter how hard I tried, he never touched me. I never knew about his addiction. But today, because Bella returned, he came to this gathering regardless of the consequences. Because he was afraid of hurting his precious white moonlight… He wanted to use me to vent… My heart felt torn apart, bleeding. I couldn’t imagine the consequences of being caught by him. Fear and sadness made me want to run.

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The new kid, a brooding transfer student, became my deskmate. Everyone said he was antisocial, violent, and rebellious—convinced he’d bully me mercilessly. I didn’t think so. When I snuck snacks in class, he never snitched. He always smelled faintly of BBQ, making my mouth water. Later, during a school blackout… He turned to me, his handsome face flushing slightly. “Serena, I l…” Suddenly, a loud GURGLE interrupted him. I hugged my bucket of instant hot pot and asked, “What’s wrong? Want some?” The Villain: “…” The bullet comments went wild: [LMAO! The gloomy villain finally falls in love, and it’s with a total glutton!] Chapter 1 It was the start of senior year. When the homeroom teacher led a boy in a school uniform into the classroom, I was hunched over, burying my head in my desk to secretly gnaw on a bagel. Post-summer break syndrome hit hard. I couldn’t sleep last night and couldn’t wake up this morning. But I couldn’t learn on an empty stomach, so I had to sneak-eat. Just as I was chewing with my cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, the teacher spoke up. “This is our new transfer student, Silas Vance.” I looked up. A boy stood on the podium, expressionless. His features were striking, marred only by a faint scar near his eyebrow, which somehow added a rebellious edge to his look. Whispers rippled through the class. “That’s the ‘Tyrant of North High,’ right? Why did he transfer here? Didn’t I hear he got arrested for fighting? He looks so scary.” “Who knows? Apparently, his grades are really good… but let’s stay away from him. Hey, do you smell something?” “Yeah, kinda weird. Like… smoke?” The teacher scanned the room, gaze landing on the empty seat next to me. “Serena, that seat is free, right?” Instantly, half the class turned to look at me—some with pity, some eager for drama, some gloating. After all, they knew that seat used to belong to Liam, who now refused to sit there. Hearing this, the thin boy standing at the front glanced in my direction. His eyes were very dark, his jawline sharp and cold. Just as everyone expected me to say it was Liam’s seat, I chirped, “Yup! It’s empty.” It wasn’t Liam’s private property. Anyone could sit there. The moment I spoke, Liam, sitting in the back row, frowned deeply. Chapter 2 Silas’s eyes flickered slightly as he walked toward me. His lean figure stopped beside my desk. He put down his bag. I smiled at him. “Hi there, new deskmate.” Silas: “…” He didn’t look at me, just gave a curt nod. His reaction was cold, but I didn’t care. Up close, the boy’s bone structure was perfect. High nose bridge, reddish lips. In the morning light, I could even see the fine peach fuzz on his face. Handsome. Totally my type of intense, dark handsome! Hehe. With a hottie next to me, I’d happily come to school at 8 AM! Chapter 3 Once Silas was settled, class began. I finished my bagel, but my stomach still felt empty. But remembering past traumas, I didn’t dare eat more. I tried to focus on the lecture. By the third period, my stomach was growling, and my vision started spotting. My hypoglycemia was pretty bad; going too long without food made it flare up. A bagel wasn’t enough for this high-intensity studying. So, my sinful little hand crept into my desk. I glanced at my new neighbor. He was staring straight ahead, indifferent. My heart drummed. I remembered when Liam was my deskmate. He was a germaphobe and wouldn’t let me eat in class. Even though we grew up together. Even though he knew about my hypoglycemia. Seeing me eat, he would stand up in disgust. It was during class, drawing everyone’s attention. The teacher asked, confused, “Liam, what are you doing?” I was frozen mid-motion, candy halfway to my mouth, exposed to everyone. Liam looked at me coldly. “Serena, can you stop eating?” One sentence nailed me to the pillar of shame. Laughter erupted. The teacher scolded, “Serena, no eating in class!” My face burned. I wanted to explain about my low blood sugar, but the discomfort choked the words. I just lowered my head, put the candy in my mouth, chewed, and swallowed. The candy was sweet, but tears almost fell. The memory attacked me. I wanted to stop, but the dizziness rising made me carefully tear open a candy wrapper and pop it into my mouth. Silas seemed to notice, but he didn’t react. Relief washed over me. Great! But before I could fully relax, glowing subtitles appeared in front of my eyes. [Baby girl, stop eating! Liam is watching!] [Why is the FL letting Silas sit next to her! A villain can’t be good news!] [But the villain looks like he skipped breakfast too… just powering through. I’d be face-down on the desk by now.] My eyes widened at the scrolling text. I realized belatedly… I was the female lead in a book. Liam was the male lead, and Silas was the gloomy villain. I pursed my lips and glanced at the back row. Sure enough, Liam was staring at me darkly. Meeting my gaze, he looked away quickly, but I caught the coldness and disdain in his eyes. Him… how could someone like him be my male lead? I’m not stupid. Thinking about the subtitles saying Silas hadn’t eaten breakfast, I hesitated, then grabbed a small handful of candies and stuffed them into his desk drawer. He didn’t reject them. I felt safer. Hehe, accept my snacks, and you can’t snitch! I turned back around, missing the way the boy’s hand on the desk tightened into a fist. Chapter 4 Lunch break. I went to the cafeteria. My friend Chloe came with me, whispering advice. “Serena, maybe ask Liam to switch seats with Silas? You don’t know, Silas is brutal. Heard he got into fights all the time at North High…” As she spoke, the subtitles rolled again. [Exactly! Making the ML jealous is enough. Don’t push it too far.] [I want to see the angst and romance between the leads!] [Who actually likes a ML who disrespects girls? With his past behavior, he deserves life without a wife!] But that last comment was quickly buried. I lowered my eyes, confused. “How do you know he didn’t have a reason to fight?” Chloe paused, mumbling, “Who knows?” I patted her shoulder. “Maybe it’s all rumors. Besides, I like a deskmate who doesn’t snitch.” Looking up, I locked eyes with a familiar pair. Silas. The thin boy stood near the cafeteria entrance, backlit, expression obscured. Was it my imagination, or were his cheeks puffing like he was eating something? Caught off guard, he froze, then quickly looked away, face tense. I wanted to look closer, but my wrist was grabbed. A cold voice rang in my ear. “Serena, why did you let someone else sit in my seat?” I turned to meet Liam’s unhappy gaze and shook off his hand. “The teacher arranged it.” Seeing my distant attitude, Liam’s eyes darkened. He sneered, “Fine. Suit yourself.” He turned and walked away. Baffling. He was the one who hated sitting with me. What was his problem now?

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The Dragon’s Blood Gem, a family heirloom rumored to command the respect of the underworld, was stolen after my wife’s male assistant, Leo, was seen playing with it. My father, furious, locked Leo in the basement for interrogation. The next day, my wife stormed a press conference, threatening suicide to prove Leo’s innocence. Her actions enraged my father so much he threatened to fire her and kick her out. In my past life, to protect my wife, Sarah, and her career, I had my bodyguards knock her out and take her away. Leo, for his arrogance, was sunk into the ocean, his body never found. When Sarah woke up, she never mentioned the incident again. We were as loving as ever, and she managed the family business diligently. But three years later, at my father’s birthday banquet, she led a team of mercenaries into our home and murdered him. Then she tied me under a hydraulic press in one of our factories and crushed me into a pulp. As I lay dying, I heard Sarah say coldly: “Leo’s body has never been found, so you don’t deserve to leave a whole corpse either!” “Julian, you owe this to Leo. Use everything you have to be buried with him!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the press conference. Since she wants to live and die with Leo, I’ll send them both to hell together! 1 “Sir,” Uncle Chen, our butler, whispered urgently, his face grave. “The Chairman wouldn’t accuse Leo of theft without reason. The Madam threatening suicide here… if this hits the news, the Group will be in the eye of the storm. The Chairman is furious. Please, go talk some sense into her.” My father built the Blackwood Group from nothing in the chaotic Golden Triangle, relying on ruthlessness and an iron fist. If Sarah continued her scene in public, my father would ensure she lost everything. In my past life, I couldn’t bear to see his hard work wasted and his dignity lost. Understanding Uncle Chen’s hint, I had the bodyguards drag her away from the press conference. The result? My father and I died violent deaths three years later. A complete tragedy. Today, I just looked at Uncle Chen calmly. “If Sarah has made up her mind, no one can change it.” Seeing me arrive, Sarah shouted, her voice ringing through the hall. “I saved Leo and his child at the border! They were victims of trafficking! How could they be thieves?” “Julian, don’t try to persuade me! I saved Leo, and I will be responsible for him until the end!” Uncle Chen asked, shocked: “Madam, you are the Group’s CEO. Going against the Chairman for a thief… if word gets out, the Group’s reputation will be ruined in your hands! Besides, Leo confessed. Why blow this up…” Sarah stood up slowly, her back rigid. She looked at me, her gaze a mix of anger and bone-chilling cold. “Julian, your father is powerful and ruthless. Now he’s framing an innocent man and forcing a confession? Can you dare say you haven’t illegally detained and tortured him?” “If your family can do such unconscionable things, how can I not oppose him? I will blow this up! I will clear Leo and his child’s names! I want everyone to know the darkness of the Blackwood family!” My fingers curled slightly. The memory of being crushed by the hydraulic press in my past life awakened in my soul. Deep in my mind, Sarah’s bloodshot eyes overlapped with her gaze now. Looking at me with infinite hatred. I suddenly realized: She was reborn too. Uncle Chen turned pale at her words, rushing forward. “Madam, please lower your voice! If the board hears this…” Sarah hesitated. She probably remembered that with my father as Chairman, she was just a CEO without real power. In the end, she gave me a deep look and ran towards the basement. I calmly arranged for my men to handle the PR with the reporters and disperse the crowd. Only after that did I breathe a sigh of relief and enter my father’s office. An hour later, I had already arranged for a lawyer to file for divorce and walked out feeling light. “Julian, cutting losses in time. You have my boldness from back in the day.” Before I left, my father patted my shoulder approvingly. “The divorce papers will be ready in three days. Nothing to regret. A woman like that isn’t worth keeping. I’ll find you whatever kind of woman you want later.” I held back the urge to cry and nodded firmly. In my past life, the Blackwood family business was destroyed. This time, I will not get involved in Sarah’s mess! As soon as I walked downstairs, Uncle Chen ran up to me, panting, looking panicked, his voice trembling. “Sir, bad news! Go quickly! Since the Madam went down there, security says Leo lost control and started self-harming with broken glass in the interrogation room.” “The Madam rushed to stop him and accidentally got her wrist artery slashed!” I rushed to the basement level. Leo was wailing, hugging his leg. Sarah, ignoring the wound on her wrist, was hugging him and comforting him softly. The child beside them was terrified, clutching his mother’s hem, crying breathlessly. As soon as I entered, Leo looked like he’d seen a ghost. He collapsed to the floor, trembling like a sieve, scrambling backward. “Mr. Blackwood, please don’t kill me! I didn’t mean to hurt the Madam! If you must punish someone, punish only me! Benny is just a child, he knows nothing…” He shrank into Sarah’s arms, acting like he didn’t deserve to live. Sarah helped Leo up, glaring at me like an enemy, gritting her teeth: “Julian, what right do you have to kill him? It’s not your place to judge him!” Leo cried so hard he could barely speak. “Sarah, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have put you in a difficult position… Please don’t blame Mr. Blackwood!” Sarah held Leo’s hand back tightly, her voice deep. “You did nothing wrong. You are innocent. The ones at fault are those heartless people!” “Julian, when I brought them back, I said I would ensure their safety for the rest of their lives. It had nothing to do with romance. No one could bully them.” “Now, out of jealousy and hate, you and your father pour dirty water on them and want them dead. You are truly vicious!” “You stand at the top of the food chain, high and mighty, ignoring rules, treating human life like grass. Heaven will not tolerate this!” 2 Before I could say a word, Sarah had already decided I framed Leo. She didn’t give me a chance to explain. The humiliation and tolerance I endured over the past two years burned in my chest. I couldn’t help but smirk. “CEO Sarah is so aggressive now. You really have the bearing of the head of the Blackwood family.” Sarah ignored her bleeding wrist and stood up straight. “Julian, do you think I, Sarah Vance, would bow to anyone? Marrying into your family was just going with the flow. Even without you, without the Blackwood family, I can carve out my own place in this industry!” When she said this, her eyes were cold and incomparably arrogant. I suddenly realized that after my death in the past life, she must have held real power in the Blackwood family for a long time. But I don’t know what happened later that caused her to be reborn too. “Worthy of CEO Sarah. Indeed courageous and ambitious.” Sarcastic words slipped out, but she just raised an eyebrow slightly. At this moment, Leo suddenly turned pale and sprayed a mouthful of blood onto Benny. Sarah’s face changed instantly. Ignoring her own wound, she hugged Leo tightly. “Leo, don’t scare me! Hold on, I’m taking you to the hospital right now!” Leo turned his head, blood still at the corner of his mouth, his tone mournful: “Don’t worry about me, Sarah. You gave me a second life. Living until today is enough…” Sarah interrupted him directly. “Don’t talk nonsense! As long as I’m here, you’ll be fine!” I had enough of these two showing off their love in front of me. I turned and left the basement, not wanting to look at them again. But that night, Sarah forcibly moved Leo and his son into the Blackwood villa. A dozen medical experts were hired. They transformed a room into a professional medical bay. Medicine and equipment were sent in like they were free. I asked my assistant to investigate. He came back to report: “Uncle Chen said the Madam swore an oath on her father’s ashes to prove Leo’s innocence. She also used all her shares in the Group as collateral.” “Sir, you know the Madam’s father was kind to the Chairman back in the day. That’s why the Chairman turned a blind eye and let them go for now.” The next evening, I was sitting on the balcony reading. The door was suddenly pushed open, and Sarah barged in. Behind her, several nurses carefully supported Leo and Benny as they walked in. Anger flared in my heart. “CEO Sarah, I remember this is my home, not your private club. I didn’t authorize you to bring any outsiders in.” Sarah stood still, hands in pockets, staring at me sternly: “Leo has been ostracized and bullied because he has no status. Now, announce immediately that you are becoming sworn brothers with him.” I stared at her and sneered. “I am the only heir to the Blackwood Group. You want me to become sworn brothers with a stranger? Trying to use my name to give him a share of the inheritance? You should ask my father if he wants a surprise son!” Leo was wearing haute couture today, looking noble, not out of place at all. But as soon as he sat down, he lowered his head and choked up uncontrollably: “Mr. Blackwood, don’t mock me… I don’t want anything. Status is just a fantasy to me. I’m willing to be the humblest security guard, just please don’t drive me away…” Before Sarah could speak, Leo stood up and took the child’s hand: “Forget it, CEO Sarah. It’s natural for Mr. Blackwood to refuse. Benny, let’s go. Don’t trouble people anymore.” Benny pouted, tears falling pat, pat. “Daddy, don’t go. I like it here. I want to be with Mommy forever!” Leo looked sad, lowering his head to comfort Benny: “This isn’t our home after all. It’s this uncle’s home. Let’s go…” Sarah quickly bent down and picked up the child. “Nonsense. As long as I’m here, this is your home!” I couldn’t help but sneer: “Sarah, get this straight! This is the Blackwood villa. If you want to play mommy, I won’t stop you, but don’t play cuckoo in my nest! Get out together while you can!” Sarah finally darkened her face. The next second, she waved her hand, and two tall, muscular bodyguards stepped forward and held me down. Then they forced me to kneel in front of them. Sarah leaned down, stepped on my shoulder, looked down at me, and ordered coldly: “Julian, what gives you the right to be arrogant? Kowtow and apologize to Leo right now!” 3 Before I could react, she stomped my head into the floor. “Sarah, are you crazy? You dare do this to me?” I screamed, tears of pain flowing uncontrollably. She didn’t stop. A second kick followed immediately. Sarah laughed loudly. “Julian, don’t be naive. You just have a powerful father. What do you have to be arrogant about? But now, I am the General Manager of the Blackwood Group!” “And you are just the man behind me. Men play with women and power all the time. Why do I have to be chaste just because I’m a woman? Who do you think you are? Julian, you are just a stepping stone for me, Sarah Vance.” Sarah’s voice was devoid of emotion. She squatted beside my ear, smiling viciously. “Do you really think you’re nobler than others? In this territory of South City, what I say goes.” Sarah didn’t plan to give me a chance to breathe. “Let me tell you, Leo is my lover. Even if you don’t recognize him as a brother, I will give him wealth and glory!” Leo put on a pitiful look, feigning refusal: “Sarah, don’t say angry words. You and Mr. Blackwood are husband and wife. Why make such a scene? Mr. Blackwood, please don’t take it to heart.” My consciousness blurred. I spat at Sarah and cursed, “Sarah, you animal! Just wait until you’re ruined!” Sarah sneered contemptuously, unconcerned. “Whatever. My father was kind to your family back then. Without the Vance family, the Blackwood family wouldn’t be here today! Without you, I can still be top of the industry!” Sarah kicked me away, turned, and held the father and son’s hands. “Meeting you two, saving you, was the most correct decision I’ve made in my life. I won’t betray your trust!” “Julian, I advise you to enjoy the last good moments of your life. For the sake of our marriage, I’ll leave you a few dollars for food.” With a cold sneer, she led Leo and Benny through the hall ostentatiously. Then she sent dozens of people to pack up valuables, cleaning out the house. Convoys of trucks filled with jewelry and antiques drove out of the villa gate mightily under the cover of night. I could only lie on the ground in a mess, surrounded by debris. In a trance, I remembered the night two years ago. Sarah was inspecting mines in Myanmar. She stumbled upon a dying Leo and a child at the border and brought them home. I softened and felt compassion, providing them with food and clothing, and pulling strings to get them IDs. Who knew this moment of kindness would invite a wolf into the house. Every time they cried, Sarah was convinced I treated them badly, abused them. For two years, I seemed to become the outsider in this home, and they became Sarah’s “family.” Maybe my mistake was insisting on marrying Sarah back then, leading to the later tragedy. My thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. My assistant stumbled in, voice trembling: “Mr. Blackwood! All the jewelry has been moved out by the Madam. She ran away with that man.” I gritted my teeth and held onto the table leg. “I know. Notify my father for me. Use the emergency clause to freeze assets. Put out a city-wide warrant for Sarah and Leo.” Before the assistant could nod, a burning smell came from the air vent. Smoke suddenly billowed around us. The fire doors locked automatically. The assistant shouted and ran to push the door, but it was locked from the outside. I dragged my broken body to push the windows. One, two, none would open. The assistant grabbed me, shouting, “The Madam wants to murder us…” Just as he was about to scream for help, the swaying chandelier crashed down from the ceiling, hitting him directly on the head. I stumbled over, but the heat wave burned my arm. My face stung. Sarah wanted to cut off my escape completely to buy time for her defection. I quickly covered my nose and mouth, gritting my teeth. “Sarah, you will die a horrible death!” I roared internally. I wanted to climb out the window, but saw a strange black box placed in front of it. A red light blinked a countdown. Three minutes. It was a bomb! Fear wrapped around me instantly. I felt my scalp tingle. But in this critical moment, an explosion drowned out all thought… BOOM! 4 The blast wave knocked me over. I instinctively covered my ears. Intense pain shot through every limb. I tried to open my eyes. Relying on instinct, I crawled towards the corner using my elbows and knees. The room was engulfed in flames. Sarah, you’re truly ruthless this round. That explosion was no accident. Fire alarms disabled. Security system down. People guarding outside to prevent rescue. I propped up my body and crawled into the bathroom inside the bedroom. Then I heard Sarah’s voice suddenly ring out from the direction of the main gate, cold and suppressed, but with a hint of excitement. “Check if there are any survivors.” Someone outside replied: “One man burned to death. Not sure if it’s Mr. Blackwood. Everyone else ran. Only Mr. Blackwood should still be inside.” Sarah didn’t come in immediately. She stood by my assistant’s charred body, examining it closely. A hint of secret pleasure appeared on her lips. She took out her phone and ordered calmly: “Spread the news. Julian is dead. Now, notify all bodyguards to come with me to find Old Man Blackwood.” Her deputy frowned in confusion: “CEO Sarah, isn’t the rescue team we arranged going in?” Sarah chuckled low, a flash of arrogance and madness in her eyes. “Rescue what? From now on, take our men and follow me to take down the entire Blackwood Group!” “But… the Chairman is powerful. Can our men beat him?” Sarah turned to him, her voice sharp: “Who said it’s only our men? I’ve already made a deal with Myanmar. I can use their mercenaries at will.” She had colluded with Myanmar forces in advance. In my past life, it was the mercenaries she hired who killed my father! Time ticked by. A few bodyguards pried open the escape door and dragged me out, half-carrying me. Ignoring the burning pain, I stumbled up and lowered my voice. “Call everyone! Go to the Group HQ to find my dad! Sarah wants to hurt him!” I pocketed the hard drive and got into the car with them, speeding towards the Group’s skyscraper. As soon as I got out of the car, a group of people gathered downstairs surrounded me. The ones in front were familiar faces—elders from the Vance family branch who were in the jewelry business. “Mr. Blackwood, so many of our Vance family businesses have collapsed. Now our funds are suddenly frozen, all distribution shops are closed, hundreds of people lost their jobs. How are we supposed to live?” “Exactly. We have years of friendship. Sarah is the young mistress of the Blackwood family, practically half your kin. Can’t we sit down and talk? Why make it so big…” “After all, our Vance family was kind to yours. How can you be so ungrateful? Is this how the Blackwood family burns bridges?” I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and said firmly: “Everyone, this isn’t the time to argue about this. Sarah is leading mercenaries to storm the Group building. If you have any self-awareness, mind your own business and don’t try to help her with any tricks. Otherwise, it won’t just be the Blackwoods who are buried, but the Vances too!” The Vance elders froze. The crowd behind them started to commotion. “What did you say? Sarah is cooperating with Myanmar? Isn’t that bringing shame to the Vance family?” “Yes! She previously proved the innocence of a thief from Myanmar. That already involves international crime!” The Vance uncles turned green and white. “That brat is crazy! Mr. Blackwood, no matter how incompetent we are, we cannot tolerate a traitor. Don’t let Sarah drag the Vance family down with her. We are willing to provide government and military connections. Tell us what to do, we’ll listen to you!”

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I was still basking in the joy of my son, Austin, scoring a perfect 1600 on his SATs when he impatiently dragged his girlfriend in front of me. “Mom, the new ‘Package Deal Admission Policy’ is out! If you’re in the top ten percent, you can pay a million dollars to bring another student with you to the same university!” The girl smirked triumphantly. “Auntie, Austin and I have already linked our application profiles. You can’t stop us from being together anymore. Just pay up!” At the same time, a barrage of glowing subtitles flashed before my eyes: [Here it comes! The Male Lead is finally escaping his controlling mother to fly off to Harvard with Baby Girl!] [You old witch, don’t you dare stop our couple! Or else when the ML inherits the family business, you’ll be the first one he deals with!] I curled my lips. This fool thinks he’s inheriting the family business? He doesn’t know that the prerequisite for this so-called “Package Deal” is averaging their scores. And his girlfriend scored a grand total of 7 points. 1 In his senior year, Austin’s grades slipped, and I was called to the school for the first time ever. The reason? A high school romance. For any parent of a senior, this is devastating news. I tried to reason with him, telling him this wasn’t the time for love. Especially since that girl, Lily, wasn’t just anyone. “Her mother is the mistress your father had! Your father left us with nothing because of her, and she’s held a grudge ever since. Now her daughter is getting close to you. Do you really think that’s a coincidence?” Austin argued back fiercely, “Mom, Lily is innocent! Why should she pay for her mother’s mistakes?” Getting into Harvard had been his dream for years. We were so close to the finish line; I couldn’t watch him ruin it. Seeing he wouldn’t listen, I took drastic measures. I had him strictly supervised, forbidding him from seeing Lily until after graduation. I hired top tutors for one-on-one sessions and a nutritionist to ensure he was in peak condition for the exams. When he finally scored a perfect 1600, I was relieved. But before I could even celebrate, he pulled this stunt. … From the floating subtitles, I learned I was living in a romance novel. My son, Austin, was the Male Lead, and Lily was the Female Lead. They were from different worlds but fell in love at first sight, defying all odds to be together. Eventually, they’d become the CEO and his trophy wife. As for me? I was the “obstacle.” I tried everything to stop their love, only to end up locked in a mental hospital by my own son, dying miserably. … I was busy reading the subtitles when Austin, seeing my silence, narrowed his eyes. “Mom, a million dollars is nothing to you. You wouldn’t stop my happiness with Lily over such a small amount, would you?” That look, that stance—he really thought he was a CEO already. He was the child I raised with blood, sweat, and tears. I still held onto a sliver of hope. “Austin, have you thought this through? Setting aside Lily’s background, are you really planning to go to college with someone who refuses to learn?” Austin pursed his lips, hesitation flickering in his eyes. Seeing this, Lily immediately started crying. “Auntie, I know you’re prejudiced against me. But who says low scores mean I don’t deserve Harvard? Everyone is created equal! This is discrimination!” Listen to that. Does that even make sense? Unexpectedly, the subtitles above them cheered: [Baby Girl is right! It’s 2025, why judge students by scores?] [Choice is greater than effort! As long as she has the ML, Baby Girl can win with zero points!] [Ahhh! Baby Girl is so brave! Fighting the power!] I was almost laughing at these delusional comments. “Right, right. Why shouldn’t people with bad grades go to Harvard? In my opinion, the SAT shouldn’t test knowledge, it should test audacity. Whoever has the thickest skin gets in first.” Lily’s face turned red, then pale. She collapsed into Austin’s arms. “Sob… I told you your mom hates me… Austin, I guess I can’t go to Harvard with you.” Seeing his love wronged, Austin was heartbroken. He glared at me. “Mom, you hate Lily because you’re jealous that Auntie Sarah got Dad’s love, aren’t you? But I’m your son! Why can’t you compromise for me?” The subtitles went wild with [Domineering protection!] and [Love to see it!]. Even though I was mentally prepared, my heart still trembled. “What did you call her? Auntie Sarah?!” 2 Austin was busy comforting the weeping beauty in his arms, his eyes full of tenderness. When he looked at me, his mother, there was only regret for slipping up and undisguised hatred. “Yes! I went to see Dad right after the exams! Auntie Sarah isn’t unreasonable like you say. She’s gentle and caring. She’s taken great care of Dad and Lily all these years. Unlike you—always in meetings and dinners. Besides making some money, what have you ever done for this family?” I shook all over, unable to believe my ears. … When he was seven, his father cheated. The mistress constantly provoked us, spreading rumors, making our lives hell. The husband who vowed to love me forever fought me tooth and nail for assets. I was exhausted trying to stop him from hiding marital property. Thankfully, the outcome was good—he left with nothing, and the mistress got zilch. Looking back, those days were harder than building my business while raising a child alone. I never sugarcoated his deadbeat father to him. He was old enough to remember how the mistress humiliated us, pointing at his nose and calling him a bastard. He shouldn’t have forgotten. … From the subtitles, I got an idea. “I see—you mean, even though I gave you lots of money, what you wanted was lots of love?” Austin’s voice was firm. “Exactly! I got into Harvard like you wanted. Now I advise you to stop while you’re ahead. Don’t block my happiness!” I almost laughed out loud. Going to Harvard was his dream since childhood. How did it become my requirement? Austin was average at best. I poured millions into resources to mold him into a top student capable of chasing that dream. I gave him a prestigious background and endless wealth. But if his dream is to run off with a delinquent, then as his mother, I should support him. “Fine. I agree to let you go to college with her.” Ungrateful wolves deserve a ruined future. Austin, ready for a fight, was ecstatic at my sudden agreement. “Mom, I knew you’d understand! When Lily and I graduate from Harvard, we’ll take over the Gu Group and let you retire in peace!” I sneered internally. A fool wants to inherit the family business? Keep dreaming. 3 Austin was lost in joy, but Lily nudged him urgently, whispering, “The money! The money!” He remembered the main point and held out his hand. “Hurry up and give me the million dollar processing fee!” I raised an eyebrow. “A million? I recall the processing fee for this policy is a hundred bucks. Can’t you even afford that?” Austin was stunned, face flushing. “Really? M-maybe I remembered wrong.” Lily looked unwilling and wanted to argue, but Austin dragged her away in embarrassment. The subtitles faded with them: [Ahhh, the old witch is so cheap! The ML planned to use that money to travel the world with Baby Girl!] [Seriously! Baby Girl even got her passport. How will they go to Greece or see the Northern Lights now?] [Whatever, at least the witch didn’t interfere. Our Baby Girl suffered for years, her good days are coming!] [The ML spoils her so much, the whole Gu Group will be hers soon. Who cares about a million?] [Wait… the Package Deal policy just came out. How did the witch know they were trying to scam money so fast?] Heh. How did I know? Because you idiots spoiled the plot. … After they left, the annoying subtitles vanished. I was pruning flowers in the garden when Austin’s homeroom teacher rushed over. “Austin’s mom, Austin linked his profile with the lowest-ranking student for the Package Deal. Did you know?” I nodded calmly. “I know. He’s an adult. Let him be.” The teacher was frantic. “No! You must not know! The condition is that their scores are averaged! That girl only got 7 points!” Of course I knew. The subtitles screamed it. I knew, Lily knew. Only Austin, the idiot, was in the dark. I also knew the only way to fix this was to use my money and influence to force Lily into Harvard. Everyone assumed that out of love for my son, I would do it to save his future. But why would I? Why would anyone tolerate the child they birthed becoming the knife that stabs them? I calculated on my fingers and smiled. “Averaged out, that’s an 800 roughly. Not bad. Enough for community college.” The teacher looked at me like I was insane. After trying to persuade me in vain, she finally accepted the loss of a Harvard acceptance and left in despair. … My assistant was confused. “Chairman Gu, are you really letting him ruin himself?” “Him?” I sneered. “He’s already sided with his deadbeat father. He’s no son of mine.” The assistant wasn’t sure if I was just angry or serious. “Should we cancel the graduation banquet? If people find out Austin is going to community college, it’ll be a joke.” I thought for a moment. “Don’t cancel.” “Didn’t one of the students we sponsored become the state Valedictorian? Throw the banquet for her.” 4 I visited Sophia personally. She lived in a dilapidated apartment building, alone since her parents died. As I reached the door, the subtitles swarmed again. I stopped my assistant from knocking. The door was ajar. Voices argued inside. Lily and her gang of delinquents pushed a thin girl to the ground. “Keep acting! Why stop now? You love seducing men, don’t you?” “I warned you to stay away from Austin. Why didn’t you listen? Did you think getting top scores and going to Harvard would make him notice you?” Sophia’s voice trembled. “I didn’t…” Lily pinched her chin hard. “Let me tell you—Austin already linked his scores with mine. His mom will do anything to get us both into Harvard.” “You better be smart and change your application to community college. Otherwise, when we get to Harvard, I’ll make your life hell!” What kind of upbringing makes a teenager talk like that? Yet the subtitles cheered: [Wow, Baby Girl declaring sovereignty is so cool!] [White rabbit turns into a wolf! Love it!] Some questioned it: [Isn’t the FL’s character ruined? This is bullying!] [The supporting character doesn’t even like the ML. Why is she always the imaginary enemy?] But rational voices were drowned out: [Don’t like it, don’t read! Why must the FL be a sweet idiot? Why can’t she be a villainess?] [Who told the supporting character to steal the spotlight?] [Careful Baby! Don’t break her hand! If she can’t do experiments later, how will you steal her patents?] I couldn’t take it anymore. I kicked the door open. Lily turned furiously, but froze when she saw me, dropping the stick she raised. I rushed to Sophia, helping her up. “Are you okay?” Sophia stood up shakily, whispering, “Thank you, Auntie Gu. I’m fine.” Lily rolled her eyes. “Stop pretending…” I cut her off with a glare. “Assistant Zhang, call the police!” … The gang spent hours at the station and paid Sophia for emotional damages. It wasn’t much, but enough to hurt them. Coming out, Lily glared at me caring for Sophia. “Just you wait! I’m telling Austin!” I thought the Female Lead had some power. Turns out her move is tattling to my useless son. I glanced at her. “Go ahead. If you don’t, I’ll look down on you.” “You—” Lily choked. She didn’t dare. That’s why only her mom, Sarah, came to bail her out. The reputation of a bully isn’t good for her “fragile flower” act. I hadn’t seen Sarah in years. Rivals should be furious, but I couldn’t care less about them. My focus was on Sophia. “Were you scared? If they bully you again, tell me immediately!” Sophia teared up. “Thank you, Auntie Gu. You’ve helped me so much. I’ll repay you when I can.” The Gu Group sponsored many students, but Sophia stood out. Not just for her grades, but because ever since she found out I was her sponsor, she sent anonymous gifts every holiday. Handwritten letters, knitted gloves, local specialties… inexpensive, but full of heart. I asked why she sent them anonymously. She said shyly, “You sponsored us anonymously too. Who I am doesn’t matter. I just want your kindness to receive a tiny echo.” Plus, the subtitles told me that in the future, when I was in the mental hospital, she fought the leads to save me until she was beaten to death. It’s ironic. A child who received a little help from me was grateful enough to die for me. Yet the son I poured everything into stabbed me in the back without hesitation. … Realizing I was ignoring her, Lily spoke sarcastically. “By the way, Auntie Gu, Austin didn’t tell you? He’s staying at our house for a while. He says he loves my mom’s garlic ribs.” Sarah’s eyes mocked me. “What’s the use of money? Can’t keep a husband when young, can’t keep a son when old. How pathetic.” Sophia didn’t know our history but sensed the hostility. She stepped in front of me. “You aren’t fit to bully Auntie Gu.” Lily scoffed. “Oh, can’t seduce Austin so you’re sucking up to his mom? Look in a mirror!” “You—” Sophia was furious. I pulled her back and looked at Sarah coldly. “I almost forgot. seeing you reminded me—” I narrowed my eyes. “It’s time to settle your debt.”

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On a reality TV show, the host asked us to reveal the most immoral thing we’d ever done. I gave a shy smile. “When I was a kid, my best friend and I stole all of her brother’s pants and hid them.” The other guests looked intrigued, pressing for the aftermath. The Film Emperor sitting next to me smiled elegantly and chimed in, “And later, she turned around and provoked me, threatening to strip my pants off with her own hands.” I froze. My brain completely short-circuited. 1 I owed a favor to a producer, which is how I ended up as a filler guest on this variety show. In the first episode, the icebreaker question was about our “darkest deeds.” I fell silent for a moment. Not because I couldn’t think of anything, but because I was a menace as a child. The list was too long. After the other guests finished, the camera panned to my face. I didn’t have time to hesitate, so I picked the funniest one. “When I was a kid, my best friend and I hid all of her older brother’s pants.” The memory was so vivid that I couldn’t help but chuckle as I recalled it. Mia, the guest sitting next to me, asked with curiosity written all over her face, “Then what happened?” I tried to recall the details, but I was too embarrassed to say the rest. Later, not only did I fail to apologize, but I actually went back to taunt him. To this day, I haven’t dared to appear in front of him again. Seeing my hesitation, Mia’s imagination started running wild. “Did you get beat up?” I shook my head. “Did you guys start dating?” I shook my head like a rattle drum. Mia, being the impatient type, stomped her foot. “So what happened? Spit it out!” I scratched my head, about to speak. That’s when the A-list actor next to me, Julian Blackwood, smiled and finished the sentence for me. “Later, she provoked me and threatened to strip my pants off with her own hands.” I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. He… is… Julian? Mia’s gaze darted back and forth between me and Julian. You could practically hear her brain frying. After a long pause, she asked hesitantly, “So, the unlucky guy who lost his pants… was you?” Then she looked at me. “And the little delinquent who stole them… was you?” I lowered my head, my eyes uncontrollably drifting toward Julian. I couldn’t figure it out. I just wanted to share a funny childhood story. How did I end up sitting next to the victim? 2 It wasn’t entirely my fault I didn’t recognize Julian. Back then, he was going through a phase. He wore black masks all day and acted like a mysterious, brooding vampire. My best friend, Riley—Julian’s sister—used to cry to me daily about how evil her brother was. According to her, he stole her allowance and ate her snacks. Eventually, she invited me over to steal his pants. She called it “teaching him a lesson.” I was at an age where I had an overflowing sense of justice. Hearing Riley’s tragic tales, my blood boiled, and I agreed. Our division of labor was clear. I was the lookout in the living room; Riley infiltrated the bedroom to secure the assets. However, there was a snag in the operation. I was helping Riley transport the bundle of pants to her room when we ran smack into Julian. Thinking back to his cold, deadpan expression, I still feel guilty. But remembering how much Riley had “suffered” under his tyranny, I grew a sudden pair of guts and shouted at him, “If you bully Riley again, next time I’ll strip your pants off myself!” Years later… We were drinking, and Riley accidentally let the truth slip. The stolen allowance? The stolen snacks? All lies. Just stories she made up during her rebellious phase. On the surface, I remained calm. Internally, I was screaming. The stories were fake, but my threat to Julian was very, very real! From that day on, I avoided Julian Blackwood like the plague. 3 Believing that admitting mistakes makes you a good kid, I immediately turned to Julian. “I’m so sorry. I was young and ignorant. I’ve learned a profound lesson since then. Please forgive me, Mr. Blackwood.” How profound was the lesson? Well, since that incident, I only believe about 30% of anything Riley tells me. The live stream comments were going wild. [LMAO, Chloe looks like a school kid getting sent to the principal’s office.] [Mr. Blackwood, please forgive our Chloe. She’s just a little bit… empty-headed.] [Don’t blame Chloe! Being an idiot isn’t a crime!] [I’m crying. I told my bestie my brother bullies me, and she said, “Good job, brother.”] [Okay but, I don’t think Julian is mad. He’s been smiling the whole time.] Seeing that last comment, I looked up at Julian. Our eyes met. Julian seemed to think of something and let out a low chuckle. I was terrified. Riley’s words echoed in my mind: My brother has evolved. He knows how to play dirty now. I pulled out my phone under the table and texted Riley for help. Riley, currently living her best life overseas, replied instantly: [Be careful! My brother texted me hours ago saying he ran into you. I could feel the murderous intent through the screen!] Connecting this with Julian’s meaningful smile, my hands started shaking as I typed: [What do I do?] [Your brother holds grudges like crazy!] [Save me! How do I apologize so he’ll actually accept it?] Riley went silent. I was anxious as an ant on a hot pan. Just then, the director told us to choose partners for the upcoming tasks. Mia, who lived for drama, leaned over to Julian. “Do you want to partner with Chloe?” Julian’s eyes crinkled with amusement. He didn’t hesitate for a second. “Of course.” Before I could panic, he added, “I want to see exactly how she plans to strip my pants.” Me: “!!!” 4 After the teams were set, Julian naturally sat next to me on the sofa. I fought a long internal battle before whispering, “Can I not be on your team?” Julian raised an eyebrow but didn’t speak. According to Riley, this was the precursor to his rage. I lowered my head, speaking fast. “I was young and dumb when I helped Riley hide your pants. I really know I was wrong.” “And I swear, I never actually wanted to strip you. Really!” Afraid he wouldn’t believe me, I even held up three fingers in a scout’s oath. Julian leaned back, relaxed. “You think I picked you because I want revenge for the pants?” Obviously. But I nodded obediently and apologized again. “I really know I messed up.” Julian looked at me for a few seconds, then laughed. “Your attitude is surprisingly sincere.” I quickly ran through Riley’s teachings but couldn’t decipher his emotion. I stole a glance. Okay, he’s smiling. That means his mood should be decent. I relaxed slightly. “So, about the teams…” Julian kept smiling, but his words killed my hope. “We’re sticking together. We’re old acquaintances, after all. Our chemistry should be unmatched.” I tried to smile, but the corners of my mouth wouldn’t go up. Seeing my expression of utter despair, Julian’s mood improved significantly. Before walking away, he messed up my hair and dropped a line: “Since when did you get so timid?” I fixed my hair, staring at his back, thinking angrily: Riley was right. Julian Blackwood is not a good person!

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“$568.20.” The server handed me the leather folio, her smile tight, practiced, and entirely professional. I stared at the empty seat across from me. Five minutes ago, Preston had excused himself to use the restroom. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice steady. “But the gentleman…” “He’s gone, ma’am.” The server’s eyes shifted away, unable to hold my gaze. “Out the back exit.” I looked down at the itemized receipt. The Seafood Tower. The Dry-Aged Porterhouse. The bottle of Silver Oak Cabernet. All his choices. My phone buzzed against the white tablecloth. A text from Preston: [Thanks for the treat. It’s good for a woman to learn how to be generous for a change.] I let out a short, dry laugh. “Check, please.” The server blinked, confused. “Ma’am, this is the…” “I know,” I said, lifting my head to look her in the eye. “Run the card. But I need an itemized invoice. Make sure the recipient is listed as ‘Individual’ and the memo line reads: ‘Evidence for Fraud Investigation.’” 1 My name is Sloane, and I’m twenty-eight. I work as an in-house paralegal for a mid-sized tech firm in the city. I make decent money, have about fifteen grand in savings, and I haven’t been on a serious date in three years. This setup was my mother’s doing. “Preston is thirty-five, an investment banker, owns a condo in the Loop—he is a catch, Sloane!” My mother had chirped over the phone, sounding like she’d just won the Powerball. “He even asked for your photo and said you had ‘kind eyes.’” I didn’t take it too seriously. I’ve been on the dating apps long enough to see the carnival of horrors. I’ve had guys ask within the first five minutes if I’d sign a prenup waiving all rights to my own 401k. I’ve had men who wanted to know if I was okay with their mother living in the spare bedroom before we’d even ordered appetizers. So, when Preston suggested a high-end steakhouse, I actually thought it was a green flag. At least it wasn’t a dive bar or his car. I’d left work early that day, changed into a silk slip dress, and even put on the expensive perfume I save for holidays. When I arrived, he was already seated. Tailored navy suit, hair gelled back with military precision, a smile that showed exactly the right amount of teeth. He was the picture of corporate success. “Sloane, right? You look even better than your pictures.” The opener was a bit slick, grease on a polished surface, but I let it slide. “Preston?” “Sit, sit.” He pulled out my chair with performative chivalry. I sat. He pushed the heavy leather-bound menu toward me. “Order whatever you want. I’m easy.” I scanned the menu, my eyes automatically drifting to the mid-range entrees. “Maybe the roasted chicken, and a wedge salad—” “Hey, come on. First time meeting, let’s not be cheap.” He raised a hand, snapping his fingers for the waiter. “Hi, yeah. Do you have the Jumbo Seafood Tower? Let’s get one of those. And the Japanese A5 Wagyu ribeye? Make it two. Oh, and open a bottle of the ’98 Cab.” I froze. “Preston, we really don’t need all that.” “It’s fine, it’s fine. We rarely get to treat ourselves.” He grinned, expansive and confident. “My treat. Relax.” My stomach gave a small, warning lurch. But the order was in. I didn’t want to make a scene. As we ate, he was charming. Aggressively charming. He asked about my job, my family, my five-year plan. “Your parents retired? What’s their social security look like?” The question was sharp, invasive. “Enough to get by.” “That’s good. You help them out?” He nodded sagely. “I send my mom a few grand a month. A man provides, right?” I didn’t answer. He pressed on. “What kind of savings are you sitting on?” “…I don’t think that’s appropriate to discuss.” “No worries, no worries, just curious.” He waved a hand dismissively. “I’ve got about half a million liquid, not counting the equity in the condo.” I thought, Well, if he’s sharing, maybe I’m being too guarded. “About fifteen thousand.” “Nice. Good start for a dowry.” My expression hardened. He caught it instantly. “Kidding! I’m kidding. A woman as independent as you? Who needs a dowry?” I stayed silent. The food arrived. The lobster was fresh, the Wagyu melted on the tongue, the wine was velvet. But as I ate, the knot in my stomach tightened. He was mining me for data. Income, savings, family assets, real estate ambitions. Whenever I asked about him, he deflected with a joke or a vague platitude. Halfway through the meal, he stood up. “Pardon me. Just need to hit the men’s room.” I nodded. Five minutes passed. Then ten. The unease bloomed into cold dread. I texted him. No reply. I called. Straight to voicemail. I flagged down the server. “Excuse me, the gentleman…” The server’s eyes did that tell-tale dart to the side. “He’s gone. Out the back.” I felt the blood rush to my head, a hot wave of humiliation. “Check, please.” The server handed it over. $568.20. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I asked for the itemized invoice. “Memo line: Evidence for Fraud Investigation.” The server paused, stunned. I opened my phone. Screenshot the texts. Screenshot the call log. Photographed the devastation of the half-eaten seafood tower. Then I sent a text to my mother: [The matchmaker. What’s her name? What’s her number?] 2 My mother was still in the dark. [What’s wrong? Did you two not click?] [Name. Number.] She sent a screenshot of a digital business card. Patty Gold. Elite Relationship Consultant. I saved it. No explanation given. The next morning, I took a half-day off work. First stop: The bank. I printed the transaction record—I’d put the meal on my Chase Sapphire, so the timestamp was precise. Second stop: The restaurant. “Hi. I need to review the transaction details from last night.” The hostess looked nervous. She pulled up the system. “These items—the Wagyu, the wine—the gentleman ordered these?” “Yes, ma’am. He stated he was hosting and asked for our specials.” I recorded the conversation on my phone. “Does he come here often?” The hostess hesitated. “…I’m not really supposed to say.” I nodded. Often. “Do you have security cameras?” “We do, but to access footage you’d need—” “I work in legal.” I flashed my ID badge. It wasn’t a badge, strictly speaking, just a corporate lanyard, but I moved with enough authority that it didn’t matter. “I am currently compiling evidence. If you cooperate, I will note that the restaurant was an unwitting party. If you don’t…” I let the silence hang heavy. “Then I have to wonder if the establishment is an accessory to fraud.” The hostess went pale. “Let me get the manager.” Ten minutes later, I had the file on a USB drive. Preston walking in, ordering like a king, eating, checking his watch, and slipping out the back fire exit. Clear as day. I uploaded it to the cloud and moved to step three. Patty Gold. Her “consultancy” was located in a converted garden apartment in a faded brick building in Queens. A plastic sign on the door read Gold Standard Matchmaking. I knocked. “Coming, coming!” The door swung open to reveal a woman in her late fifties with hair dyed a violent shade of auburn and lipstick that bled into the cracks around her mouth. “Oh, hello! You must be Sloane! Your mother wouldn’t stop raving about you. Pretty as a picture!” “Patty.” I didn’t smile. “Preston. You set us up.” “Yes! A total catch, isn’t he? How did it go? Sparks flying?” “He ran out on the check last night.” Patty froze for a beat, then forced a high-pitched laugh. “Oh, honey, young people these days. First dates can be awkward—” “He stuck me with a six-hundred-dollar tab.” Her smile calcified. But only for a second. “Surely it’s a misunderstanding! I’ve known Preston for years. He’s not that kind of man. Let me just give him a call—” “Don’t bother,” I cut her off. “I’m here for his file.” “Excuse me?” “Full legal name. Current address. Employer. You’re a legitimate business, you have records, right?” Patty’s eyes started darting around the room. “Well… we have strict privacy policies. I can’t just hand out client data.” “Fine.” I stood up. “I’m going to the precinct. I’ll let the police subpoena the records.” “Wait, wait, wait!” She grabbed my arm. “Let’s not be dramatic. It’s a few hundred bucks, right? I’ll cover it!” I stared at her hand on my sleeve until she let go. “You’ll cover it?” “Yes, absolutely. I’ve known him a long time, he probably just… forgot his wallet…” “What is your relationship with him?” “No relationship! Just… a loyal client.” “Loyal client?” I let out a cold laugh. “How many dates has he been on?” Patty’s face drained of color. Her mouth opened and closed. I pulled out my phone and hit record. “Patty, listen carefully. I deal with contracts and liability for a living. If you lie to me, I will make it my personal mission to dismantle this little operation. Talk.” She looked at the phone, sweat beading on her upper lip. “I… I didn’t know he was going to stiff you…” “What did you know?” Silence stretched for ten seconds. Then she crumbled. “He… he asks for introductions. Three or four a month.” “And?” “And he takes them to dinner. Expensive places.” “And leaves them with the bill?” She looked at the floor. I smiled, but there was no humor in it. “How much?” “What?” “What’s your kickback?” “I don’t—” “I have the security footage,” I bluffed, turning the screen toward her. “I can find out how many times you two have met.” Patty slumped against the doorframe. “Two hundred… two hundred a head.” I nodded and stepped back. “Thank you for your cooperation.” “W-what are you going to do?” I didn’t look back. “Get my money back. And put you both somewhere with bars on the windows.” 3 Back in my apartment, I organized the evidence on my dining table. Restaurant receipts. Video files. The recording of Patty. The text messages. The chain was clear: Preston uses the matchmaker to source victims, uses the date as a pretext to gorge on luxury food, flees, and then mocks the women to discourage pursuit. Patty takes a kickback. Willful ignorance at best, conspiracy at worst. It was fraud. But I wasn’t going to the police yet. Six hundred dollars? That’s barely a misdemeanor in this city. The cops would file a report and use it as a coaster. I needed volume. That night, I logged onto a local community forum and Reddit. [Has anyone in the city used “Gold Standard Matchmaking”? Or been set up with a finance guy named Preston who loves expensive wine?] I posted it and went to bed. When I woke up, my notifications were blowing up. [Me! Last month! Stuck me with a $400 tab!] [Omg, yes. Said he had to use the bathroom and never came back.] [I thought I was the only one. I felt so stupid.] [Wait, is he about 5’10, slicked back hair, asks about your savings account?] [YES. The savings question!] I scrolled through the comments, a chill running down my spine. Not three or four. Just in the comments, I counted seventeen women. The earliest was eight months ago. The highest tab was nearly eight hundred dollars. I created a private Signal group and sent out invites. “Ladies, I’m the OP. I work in law. I have an idea, but I need everyone on board.” [What’s the plan?] “Police report.” [Is it worth it? My friends told me to just let it go. The cops won’t care about a dinner bill.] “They won’t care about one bill. But seventeen?” The chat went silent. Then, a message popped up: [Count me in.] [Me too.] [Let’s get him.] I typed quickly. “Okay. Organize your evidence. Bank statements, screenshots, texts. Anything you have. I’ll draft the master affidavit.” [Sloane, you are a godsend.] “I’m not a godsend,” I typed. “I’m just pissed off.” That evening, my mother called. “Sloane, honey, how is it going with Preston? Did you exchange numbers?” “We did.” “And? Are you seeing him again?” “No.” “Why not? He’s so established—” “Mom.” I cut her off. “He’s a con artist.” Dead silence on the line. “What do you mean?” I told her everything. The bill. The escape. The other women. My mother was quiet for a long time. Then she said something that surprised me. “I’m going to kill Patty Gold.” “Mom—” “I paid her three hundred dollars for that introduction!” My mother’s voice trembled with rage. “She guaranteed a background check! Guaranteed! She scammed my daughter’s money and my money?” Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place. Patty wasn’t just taking kickbacks from Preston. She was charging the mothers a finder’s fee. Double dipping. “Mom, don’t go over there.” “Why not?” “Because I have a better idea.” 4 By day three, the Signal group had grown to twenty-three women. Some took off work. Some brought friends who were lawyers. We met in the back room of a quiet coffee shop. “I’m Sloane.” I stood at the head of the table. “Here’s where we stand.” I opened my laptop. Yes, I had made a PowerPoint. “Subject: Preston Reed. Real age 37, claims 35. Claims to be a banker, actually unemployed. Over the last eight months, he has utilized ‘Gold Standard Matchmaking’ to exploit at least 23 women.” “Modus Operandi is identical: High-end dining, excessive ordering, mid-meal exit via rear egress.” “Individual losses range from $300 to $800. The current total verified loss is…” I paused for effect. “$12,450.” Gasps rippled through the room. “Twelve thousand dollars?” “He ate twelve grand worth of steak?” I nodded. “It gets worse. Patty Gold takes a $200 kickback from him per date, plus she charges your families an intro fee. Based on our numbers, she has defrauded our families of at least another $7,000.” “Combined, Preston and Patty are looking at a fraud scheme totaling over twenty thousand dollars.” Someone slammed a hand on the table. “Police! Now!” “We will,” I said. “But first, I want to do one thing.” “What?” “Make him ready for his close-up.” I laid out the plan. Patty was still in business. She didn’t know we were organized. My friend Harper is two years younger than me, gorgeous, and—more importantly—an investigative reporter for a local news station. “We send Harper in. Wired.” “Will he recognize her?” someone asked. “No. He preys on women he thinks won’t fight back. He doesn’t watch the news. And greedy men get sloppy.” “What about Patty?” “As long as the check clears,” I said coldly, “Patty won’t ask questions.” That afternoon, I called Patty from a burner number. “Hi, Patty. My friend is looking for a match. I heard you’re the best.” She hesitated. “You sound familiar.” “I get that a lot. I have a generic voice.” “Right. Well, send her over. The fee is—” “Three hundred. I know. She’ll be there tomorrow.” I hung up and texted Harper. [Tomorrow, 3 PM. Gold Standard Matchmaking.] [Copy. Hidden cam is ready.] [Remember: You are Harper, 28, Marketing Exec, $20k in savings.] [Why mention the savings?] [He’ll ask.] [Seriously? On a first date?] [Just wait.] The next day. Harper went in. That night, she sent me the footage. Patty’s spiel was identical. I fast-forwarded through it. The gold was the dinner. The video was grainy, shot from a button-cam, but the audio was crystal clear. Preston sat there, suit immaculate, grinning like a shark. “Harper, right? The photo didn’t do you justice.” Word for word. Then the interrogation: Job, income, family assets. Harper played it perfectly. Shy, compliant. “Twenty thousand in savings? Smart girl. That’s a nice little nest egg.” He said it while scanning the wine list. He ordered. The Tower. The Wagyu. The expensive vintage. Identical. Halfway through the meal, he stood up. “Pardon me. Just need to use the little boys’ room.” Harper looked up at him, eyes wide. He smiled, turned, and walked toward the restrooms. But the camera angle caught him veering left. Down the service corridor. Pushing open the emergency exit. And— poof. Gone. Harper’s voice came over the video, a soft chuckle. “Gotcha.” I typed back: [Beautiful work. Let’s make him famous.]

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They called me The Glass Doll—a fragile girl with Osteogenesis Imperfecta, the brittle bone disease. And Noah Sterling, my boyfriend, was a pharmaceutical researcher. When he shoved me, sending me crashing to the floor, I grabbed desperately at his pant leg, begging him to get me to the ER. He kicked my hand away, annoyance etched into every line of his face, and scoffed. “Lily, you’ve been on my meds for months. You’re practically cured. Don’t pull this pathetic stunt with me. I have work to do, and I just need to talk to a colleague. Is this really necessary?” Sienna stood beside him, her arm looped through Noah’s, feigning a sweet, scolding voice. “Oh, Noah, honey, you shouldn’t treat your girlfriend like that!” I lay sprawled on the hardwood, registering the crunch of multiple fractures, realizing a splinter of bone had punctured my lung. My breath was catching in ragged gasps. With a trembling hand, I managed to dial 911. “Noah, sweetie, we have to go, or we’ll be late for the lab meeting. I have so many questions I need you to help me with.” Sienna hurried him away, already tugging him toward the door. I’d lost count of how many times Noah had dismissed me, citing his research. Time bled away. I felt warm, coppery blood welling up in my mouth. My vision swam. The 911 operator called back. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, the street is blocked by a private car. We are moving as fast as we can. Please, just hold on a little longer.” I wiped the tears from my eyes. With the last vestige of strength, I typed out a text. “Thank you for healing me. It’s time to pay back this life you gave me.” 1 I lay still on the floor. If it weren’t for the blood flecks on my chin, I would have looked peacefully asleep—serene and undisturbed. Because I rarely went outside, my skin was pale, perfectly white, like real porcelain. My lips were turning blue, but they held a faint smile. And on my cheeks, a trail of tears, a testament to my bitter, desperate regret for the future I wouldn’t see. I looked down at the silent, broken figure and finally understood: I was dead. A half-hour earlier, we’d had the argument. How many times had it happened? The pattern was always the same: we’d finally settle into a quiet, sweet moment, and his phone would buzz—always a colleague—and Noah would bolt, tireless and focused. This time, the colleague had shown up at our door. Noah was a pharmaceutical researcher, a brilliant mind dedicated to finding the cure for Osteogenesis Imperfecta. We’d known each other since we were kids. He knew that my disease meant I couldn’t fall, couldn’t be hit, or I’d suffer severe, multiple breaks. Thanks to him, I had stumbled and limped my way to the age of twenty-five. But today, he had simply shoved me away in frustration. In that instant, I’d heard the sickening, unmistakable sound of bones snapping inside my own body. Watching him ignore me, watching him prepare to leave, I panicked. I grabbed his pant leg, biting back a sob. “Noah, I’m broken. My bones. Please, just take me to the hospital.” He looked down at me, his eyes filled with contempt, and viciously kicked my hand away from his trousers. “Lily, you’ve been on my medication. You’re practically cured. Stop being dramatic. I have to go to work, and I’m just talking to a colleague. Why are you making a scene?” “You just fell. It’s not like you got hit by a car. I am sick of your constant jealousy. It’s exhausting.” I struggled to look up at him, offering a helpless, hollow smile, and called 911 myself. Noah watched my frantic movement, rolling his eyes in disgust. “Still faking.” Sienna wrapped her arms around Noah’s neck, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness. “Noah, honey, let’s go now, or we’ll be late for the meeting. I have a million things I need your help with.” The front door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the house. I didn’t dare move. The only sound in the dead silence of the room was the regular tick-tock of the clock—the steady countdown of my life. The metallic taste of blood was thick in my mouth; I swallowed the warm fluid with effort. My vision blurred in and out. Breathing became a monumental struggle. The operator’s call only delivered more horror. “Ma’am, I’m so sorry. The street is completely blocked. We are trying to find an alternate route, but you need to hang on.” A wave of despair washed over me. I dialed Noah’s number again. If he turned around now, it might still be enough. The phone connected. Before I could even speak, his voice exploded in my ear, a torrent of abuse. “Are you kidding me? I’m working! If you’re hurt, call a goddamn Uber. You are not The Glass Doll anymore. Stop acting like you’re still a helpless baby!” I swallowed the mouthful of blood, my voice a weak whisper. “The ambulance is delayed. Can you just turn around and come back for me?” His reply was cold, devoid of all feeling. “So the ambulance is a little late, are you going to die? Do you have any idea how busy I am? I’m doing all this for you.” I tried to call again, but he wouldn’t pick up. “The number you have dialed is currently unavailable…” I gave a self-mocking laugh, and blood bubbled past my lips, pouring out uncontrollably. He used to panic instantly if I was hurt, rushing me to the hospital himself. “Lily, don’t be scared, it’s just a broken leg. When we get home, I’ll pad every surface with thick foam so you never hit anything again.” He had dedicated his life to this cure. The young Noah had promised me, earnest and determined: “Lily, once you’re all better, I can finally take you out. You’ll be able to run free, and we’ll see the world.” But he broke his promise. 2 I laughed and cried at the same time. We were happy back then. I truly believed that happiness would last forever. But as my condition seemed to improve, Noah’s attitude began to shift. He spent endless nights in the lab, and his time with me dwindled to nothing. I told myself it was a crucial phase of his research; I needed to be supportive. I waited up for him no matter the hour, warmed his mug of coffee, and tidied his side of the bed. I forced myself to ignore the faint smear of lipstick on his collar. I ignored the scent of a perfume that wasn’t mine clinging to his shirt. But the truth was a slow, agonizing realization that I was only lying to myself. That night, he was in the shower. A call came in. Thinking it was my phone, I answered. “Noah, babe, I can’t even sleep without you here tonight.” “Why even go home? Lily is so fragile, she won’t even let you touch her. I know a lot of ways to keep you busy. I can show you next time.” “Noah? Why aren’t you saying anything?” When I finally registered what I’d done, I hung up. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. That voice. That was no colleague discussing work. They were flirting. They were intimate. It was likely that all those countless nights I spent alone in our quiet house, he was wrapped up in another woman’s arms. I’d called his mother a few times, trying to confide in her, but her words were a harsh slap of reality. “That’s just how men are, sweetie. You have to cut him some slack.” “If you two broke up, where would you go, Lily?” She was right. If I left him, where could I go? I had no apartment, no ability to work, no family, and no friends. I was exactly what she had called me—a fragile porcelain doll, requiring constant, expensive care. I had known he didn’t love me anymore, but I couldn’t leave. A month ago, I was doing some light housework and accidentally bruised my arm. I called him immediately, panicked, and he just told me to go to the clinic myself. I had been to the orthopedic department countless times. It had always been him—Noah—who held my hand, managed the paperwork, paid the bills, and gave me an overwhelming sense of security. This time, there wasn’t even a check-in call. When I returned from the clinic with a cast on my arm, he was sitting on the couch, happily texting someone. I stood silently in the doorway, staring at him. He offered a rushed, dismissive explanation. “I’m just talking about work with a colleague. Go lie down.” I retreated to the bedroom and quietly scrolled through his feed. “Work is exhausting, but thankfully I have you by my side.” The photo showed two people smiling into each other’s eyes. They were in love. I realized I didn’t think I’d ever taken a picture like that with Noah. A little later, he came to bed and lay down, wrapping his arm around me from behind. He saw I was looking at the post. He sounded completely unconcerned as he explained it. “Don’t get the wrong idea. She’s just a friend. I wouldn’t post it if I had anything to hide, right?” I nodded weakly. “I don’t misunderstand. I believe you.” I was calm. No, not calm. My heart had simply gone cold. But I still felt the compulsive need to comfort him. “You don’t have to work so hard. I wish you’d come home earlier.” “Maybe spend one less night…” He pulled his arm away before I could finish, cutting me off. “That’s enough. Work is stressful enough without coming home to a lecture. What can you actually do for me besides complain?” “Other men’s wives are supportive partners—they help run the house and earn a living. You? You injure yourself doing housework and just waste money all day.” I clamped my mouth shut, speechless, the insult stinging my eyes. The worst part was that he wasn’t wrong. Maybe he regretted ever taking me in. He seemed to realize his words were cruel, so he softened his voice. “I only work this hard for you, Lily. If I finish this project, the new drug for brittle bone disease will be fully developed.” A sharp, searing pain dragged me back to the present. The emergency dispatcher called again. “Ma’am, please remain calm and do not move. We are almost there. You must hold on.” Twenty minutes. And I still hadn’t heard a siren. I could feel my heartbeat slowing down. I was biting the inside of my lip, drawing blood, just to stay conscious. How much longer could I possibly last? Clutching the last shred of my sanity, I sent Noah that final, parting message. “Thank you for healing me. It’s time to pay back this life you gave me.” 3 As the text left my phone, I felt my spirit slowly lift from my body. The next thing I knew, I was standing right next to Noah. He was focused on writing a lab report when, suddenly, Sienna draped herself over his back, pouting playfully. “Noah, sweetie, I can’t write this part of the report. You have to help me!” He smiled gently, putting down his pen, and tapped her nose. “What don’t you get? I’ll walk you through it.” With that, he lifted her and sat her right down on his lap, leaning in close for a private tutoring session. Suddenly, a call from the hospital interrupted them. “Hello, are you family of Lily Sterling? We regret to inform you that our resuscitation efforts were unsuccessful. Please come to the hospital to handle the affairs.” Noah hung up without a word. “She’s unbelievable. Now she’s getting people to call and try to trick me. She’s too scared to leave the house, so this is her latest trick to get me to come home.” The phone rang again. Noah Tsked, hung up immediately, and blocked and deleted the number. He tossed his phone aside and returned to his intimate session with Sienna. A few colleagues nearby exchanged eye rolls, their disapproval obvious. Finally, a guy named Leo, who had clearly had enough, turned and muttered in disgust. “How did she even get hired? She doesn’t know anything. Just constantly using the lab as a place to canoodle. It’s sickening.” Noah heard him and stood up to retaliate. “Mind your own business, Leo. She’s not bothering you. Just do your own work.” Sienna shrank behind Noah, tugging his arm gently. “Noah, honey, don’t be mad. He’s not totally wrong. I’m sorry. Let’s take a break until you figure things out with Lily.” She wiped a tear and hurried out the lab door, covering her mouth with her hand. Noah gave Leo a nasty glare and then rushed out, chasing after her in a frantic panic. The remaining lab members started murmuring. “Man, I feel so bad for his fiancée. Twenty years with that jerk.” “Seriously. I wonder what he’s going to tell her.” I watched Noah’s furrowed brow, his expression of deep annoyance. I wanted to tell him: You don’t have to deal with me anymore. I’m gone. You are free. Noah held Sienna close, gently stroking her back. She sobbed into his chest, then looked up at him, teary-eyed and vulnerable. “Noah, you pushed Lily today. She must be hurt. She called you so many times.” Noah was completely nonchalant. “Don’t worry about her. A tiny little fall won’t do anything. She’s just jealous and trying to use her old, pathetic tricks to get attention.” Sienna relaxed, nestled closer into his arms. “If you say so, Noah, then I don’t have to feel guilty.” He wiped her tears and affectionately ruffled her hair. “Guilty about what? She’s not like you—responsible and capable. She just sits at home and moans about everything.” He thought for a moment, pulled out his phone, looked at my last text, and smirked. “Have you had enough fun with your little joke? Are you really hurt? Do you want me to come to the hospital?” Sienna peered over his shoulder at the text and put on a worried face. “Noah, sweetie, you should go check on Lily. You should.” She gently pushed him toward the parking lot. But they hadn’t walked far when Sienna let out a sharp cry. “Ah!” She immediately crouched down, clutching her ankle, fighting back tears. “Sienna, you twisted your ankle? Come sit here!” Noah instantly helped her to a nearby bench, gently took off her high-heeled shoe, and began softly massaging her ankle. Sienna tried to pull her foot away, pushing him. “Noah, no, you need to go to Lily. I’ll just rest here.” “No way. She can handle herself. You, however, can’t walk. Come on, I’ll carry you back.” He turned his back to her and hoisted Sienna onto his shoulders. Sienna hid her blushing face in his neck, but a look of undeniable triumph flashed in her eyes. When they returned to the lab, they walked right past a group of gossiping colleagues. “Did you hear? Some brittle bone patient died at the Central Hospital just now.” “I think… her name was Sterling, maybe?” Noah’s heart skipped a beat. He stopped walking and slowly let Sienna slide to the ground, listening intently.

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In the third year of Owen Maxwell’s affair, the long-dormant System reappeared, a forgotten voice promising that I could finally go home. For the final ten days, I stopped fighting. I stopped the tearing arguments, the desperate attempts to make him see reason. I let him spend the nights with his trophy girlfriend, Blakely, never once asking where he was. I let him give her the things I cherished. The day I left was my birthday. He burst in, Blakely clinging to his arm, and they knocked over my cake. He shoved me against the window, his fingers digging into my jaw. He demanded to know why I had hurt their child. “When did you become so vicious, Sierra?” I smiled, suddenly too tired to explain anything. “Yes,” I whispered. “I am that vicious.” “So, you and her? Go have your happy life.” Then, under his horrified gaze, I arched my back and vaulted out of the nineteenth-floor window. It was the only way to end everything in this world. 1 When the long-dormant System appeared and told me I could go home, I had just finished another explosive fight with Owen. He had walked in minutes earlier, fresh from an encounter with Blakely Cole, his kept woman. When he saw me lying in bed, he pressed himself against my back, his lips warm and tracing slow, possessive lines on my neck. I bolted upright and instinctively slapped him. “Owen. If you don’t find it disgusting, I certainly do.” He froze for a moment, then gave a short, bitter laugh, rubbing his cheek. Then, he yanked me off the bed, dragging me to the bathroom. He pinned me in front of the vanity mirror, one hand clamping my chin, his eyes toxic with contempt. “You’re disgusted with me? Sierra Reed, look at yourself! Do you see any trace of the woman I married?” I stared at the reflection. My hair was tangled, the strap of my silk slip was falling off my shoulder, and I looked like a distraught mess. The eyes that he used to call the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen were dull and lifeless. Fine lines had crept up around them, stealing the vibrant energy of my youth. In that instant, my mind flashed to Blakely’s face—her youthful, glowing skin, her sparkling eyes burning with naked ambition and a kind of triumphant provocation. “So, what, Owen? That’s your justification for cheating?” I scoffed, leaning against the cool tile, my eyes stinging with unshed tears. He slowly moved closer, his thumb gently wiping a tear that escaped my lash line. “I told you more than once. It’s just a fling. I’m just playing around. When I’m done with her, I’ll come home. Sierra, I’ve always loved you.” It was nauseating. Utterly, uncontrollably sickening. I screamed, a primal sound of pain, and grabbed a hand lotion bottle, smashing it into the mirror. It splintered into a thousand jagged pieces. “Get out! Just get out!” After he left, I stood barefoot on the icy marble floor, looking out the window at the enormous LED billboard across the street. Owen had paid to run a giant photo of Blakely, her face splashed across the skyline. I gave a bitter, dry laugh. This kind of bitter confrontation had become a nightly occurrence over the last year. It started with soul-crushing agony, but now, only an exhausted despair remained. I wasn’t supposed to be here. Eight years ago, I arrived in this world on a mission: to save a bitter, broken teenager named Owen Maxwell. His father had cheated, his family business had collapsed, his mother had committed suicide, and he was buried under massive debt. His eyes were utterly dead. I was the one who found him on a sunny morning and walked toward that desperate, miserable boy. I moved in with him, first in a basement apartment, then in a tiny shared room, slowly working to help him pay back every debt. He once asked me, confused, “Why are you so good to me?” I smiled, taking his hand. “Maybe it’s fate. Or maybe it’s the Universe’s instruction.” He lowered his head and murmured, “Then you must be the best gift the Universe has ever given me.” The day the mission was supposed to end, he seemed to sense I would leave. His eyes were red-rimmed, and he held me tightly from behind, staying awake all night. I caved. I wrapped my arms around him. “Owen, I’m not going home.” The System vanished entirely after that. For five full years, it was silent. And it was in those five years that Owen cheated. It was three years after our wedding. He found a younger, beautiful, ambitious model—Blakely Cole. 2 I still remember the day I found out. He came home drunk, hugging me, resting his head on my shoulder. Through the haze, he suddenly mumbled, “Sierra, why do you feel shorter?” I thought it was funny then. I’ve been five-foot-five my whole life; how could I suddenly be shorter? Later, I checked his phone. His Blakely was five-foot-ten, tall and strikingly sexy—the complete opposite of me. And the pet name he had slurred? Was it Sierra, or was it Blakely? … I don’t remember the specifics of that day. Only the thunderous roar in my head, the world tilting and falling into darkness. Owen knelt before me, crying and begging. He said it was a mistake, a momentary lapse, a temporary thrill. Three years of dating, three years of marriage, giving up my chance to go home—all for this ending. I was too stubborn and too hurt to let us go. So, we silently agreed to maintain the marriage. But a rotten love, a rose infested with beetles, is impossible to discard yet sickening to hold onto. His repeated betrayals led to an endless cycle of fights and resentment, until we were utterly exhausted and numb. It was like a dull blade sawing through the last remnants of our love, slowly, agonizingly. So, when the System finally woke from its long hibernation and spoke to me, I answered immediately. “System, I regret it. I want to go home.” 3 “Host, I did warn you that the events following the completion of your mission were unpredictable… including Owen’s change of heart.” “However, due to your past exceptional performance, I can grant you a special privilege and reopen the channel home. But you have only ten days remaining.” Tears streamed down my face. I nodded. “Understood. You have a final ten days left in this world. The departure countdown officially begins.” The System disappeared again. The house sank back into a deathly silence. I dried my eyes and began to pack. No, not pack. I needed to erase every trace of myself from this world. I gathered all my clothes and dropped the bags into the garbage chute. I took down the wedding photos from the wall, one by one, and pulled out the wedding ring he had given me. On our wedding day, Owen held that three-quarter carat cluster setting—a ring that cost him everything he had back then—and knelt, his voice thick with tears. “Sierra, you are the only light in my dark life. I will be faithful to no one but you, ever.” That small, sentimental diamond was the vessel of our most intense love, and I wore it for years. Until the day I saw Blakely on his arm, flashing a five-carat fancy pink diamond that glittered blindingly. After that, my ring stayed in the drawer. I used the diamond to violently smash the glass on our largest wedding portrait. It shattered instantly. Finally, I looked at the home, once saturated with eight years of our shared life, and felt a strange relief. I had been stuck in this sick, resentful marriage for five years. Now, finally leaving felt like the truest form of freedom. 4 The next morning, I went downstairs. The lights were dim. Owen was sitting on the sofa, smoking, his expression unreadable. “Where are the wedding pictures from the wall?” He spoke flatly, stopping me in the hall. His phone was buzzing constantly with notifications. I could see Blakely’s messages flashing across the screen—she was holding a dozen preserved, gold-dipped roses, her face radiant. [Such a tough night, baby, but this gift makes me feel so much better again ∼ ∼ ] He noticed me looking but didn’t bother to hide the screen. “I put them away,” I said, my voice empty, and walked past him to the kitchen for a glass of water. He extinguished his cigarette and smirked, rising to his feet. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a delicate Van Cleef & Arpels Alhambra pendant. He put it around my neck from behind. “Still mad?” “Here. A peace offering. It looks good on you, Sierra.” He leaned in close, his voice a low, toxic whisper in my ear. Like a snake tasting the air. “Sierra, you are the only Mrs. Maxwell. No one can ever replace you. Not even Blakely.” “Once I’m tired of her, we can try for a baby again. How does that sound?” I coldly pushed him away, then slowly smoothed down the lapel of his expensive shirt, brushing off the smear of another woman’s lipstick. I managed a brittle, scornful smile. Then, I turned and walked away. 5 Owen and I had a child once. I didn’t even know I was pregnant then. I was still obsessed with his fidelity, spending a whole night crying outside the hotel where he was staying with Blakely. In the morning, I watched him emerge, his arm around her, one hand resting possessively on her backside as he tucked her into the passenger seat. They started getting intimate in the car immediately. I gripped the steering wheel and screamed, a raw, wrenching sound, and slammed my car into theirs. That’s when I lost the baby. It was the fourth time I had found proof of his ongoing affair with her. Owen looked slightly confused now, but he didn’t detect my secret reference to the miscarriage. He merely nodded thoughtfully and left the house again. He didn’t come home for two days. I watched the news reports, the endless stream of gossip about him and Blakely. I was so calm, I didn’t send a single text or make a single call. Instead, I spent those two days liquidating everything: the real estate, the jewelry, the stocks I’d accumulated over the years. The System had confirmed I could convert the wealth I’d amassed in this world into currency in my home world. In the first two years of our marriage, Owen had rapidly built his fortune. It was the peak of our love, and he bought every property, putting the deeds squarely in my name. He used to say that I had pulled him out of the abyss and then suffered with him through the hard years, and he felt crippling guilt. Only giving me enough money could ease his conscience. In the end, he failed to give me enough love, but he gave me enough money—more than enough to live extravagantly for the rest of my life when I returned. With five days left on the countdown, I drove out to the suburbs. There was one last property deed I hadn’t sold yet: the lakeside villa. It was his anniversary gift to me after we got married. We spent all our holidays there when we were happy. It was also where I got pregnant with the child we lost. The villa held profound significance for us. I was going there now to retrieve the deed and sell it to a broker. I drove into the gated community. I hadn’t been back in two years, not since Owen’s cheating began. But everything looked pristine. The small courtyard outside the villa was filled with new rose bushes. Puzzled, I got out of the car and put my key in the lock. Just then, someone opened the door from the inside. “What’s wrong, baby? Just fed you and you’re hungry again?” It was Blakely. 6 She stood there in a long, red silk negligee, leaning lazily against the doorframe, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. But quickly, her moist, dark gaze raked over me, settling on a look of utter condescension and triumph. I understood everything in an instant. Owen had moved her in here. “This is my house. I’m giving you five minutes to get dressed and get out.” I pulled the door open, trying to step inside. Blakely blocked the entrance, meeting my eyes without a trace of fear. “But the truth is, Mrs. Maxwell, Owen gave me this house.” “Gave? When was the deed transferred? The owner of record would certainly know.” “You’re borrowing it for a few days. You’re squatting. Don’t confuse yourself with the mistress of the house.” Blakely’s face cycled from white to red. I didn’t waste any more breath on her and called Owen immediately. He needed to clean up his own toxic mess. On the other end of the line, Owen chuckled dismissively. “Sierra, it’s just a house. What’s the big deal if the girl stays there for a few days? Don’t go over there and start trouble, alright? It’s a pain in the ass to calm her down when she cries. Also…” I didn’t hear what else Owen said because Blakely suddenly grabbed my wrist, escalating her taunt. “Ms. Reed, I hear you and Mr. Maxwell dated for three years and got the ring. Well, I’ve been with him for three years, too. Do you think I’ll be the next Mrs. Maxwell this year?” She then patted her stomach lightly. “Oh, and I might have one more card to play: the baby in here.” On the phone, I heard the faint clicking of cards as Owen played poker. He spoke casually, distracted. “A vintage Cartier diamond/sapphire piece went up for auction the other day. I bought it for you. It’ll arrive a day or two before your birthday.” “I told you, Blakely is just a distraction, a pretty little bird to keep me amused. Look, if you’re really that upset, I’ll tell her to move out.” He was still rambling, placating me with careless lies. I let out a cold, shaky laugh. “Owen, did you hear that? Your little bird has a baby bird! Congratulations. You’re going to be a father. You’re finally getting what you’ve always wanted.” On the other end, Owen’s voice went instantly quiet. There was silence for a long moment. 7 Owen found me when I was leaving the memorial park. Now, only three days remained until my departure. Blakely’s words had brought the memory of my child rushing back. I had spent the last two days visiting my baby’s tiny plot, leaving behind my favorite candies. I hadn’t returned home, and I hadn’t answered Owen’s calls. It was like I had simply vanished. When Owen finally found me, he lunged forward, grabbing my arm and pulling me into his black SUV without a word. Inside the car, he gripped the steering wheel, looking deeply into my eyes. His voice was husky. “I’ll take care of Blakely. I’ll handle everything.” Owen once told me, “A child should only be born to the person you love most. I’ll only have children with you, Sierra.” Now, he had conceived a child with Blakely, yet he was sitting here, playing the role of the devoted husband. I found it utterly ridiculous. I folded my arms and stared out the window. “Why should I care? It’s not my baby, after all.” His gaze sharpened suddenly, but he laughed—a strange, humorless sound. He roughly grabbed my wrist, forcing me to turn and face him. “Sierra Reed, don’t you pretend you don’t care at all?” His eyes were bloodshot, fixated on me, as if afraid to miss the slightest change in my expression. “And where the hell have you been for the last two days? Why aren’t you answering your phone?” My face remained blank. I simply looked at him. I told him, my voice almost a whisper, “Owen. I’m going home.” The air in the car thickened into a suffocating silence. After a long pause, he sneered, as if I’d told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. His tone was arrogant. “Home?” “Where are you going to go? You have no family, no parents here, Sierra.” “Other than me, who do you have left in this world?!” 8 I looked at him calmly, a sad self-awareness settling in my eyes. So, this was the end of love: cruel mockery and verbal abuse. I took a deep breath, realizing there was nothing left to say to him, and stepped out of the car. Owen slammed his fist against the steering wheel and violently sped away. We parted ways in bitter failure, again. For the final three days, his behavior grew more egregious. He sometimes brought Blakely home to spend the night, their movements and sounds filling the house. I simply closed my bedroom door and didn’t ask a single question. The last day before my departure was my birthday. Owen left early in the morning without so much as a glance in my direction. I spent the entire day alone, burning every photograph of us together. Then, I waited quietly for midnight. That evening, I bought myself a small cake and stuck in the candles. I turned off the lights, closed my eyes, clasped my hands, and made a wish. I wished for a smooth return home, and I wished that Owen Maxwell and I would never cross paths again. But before I could blow out the candles, the front door rattled open. Owen strode in, his face dark with fury. Clinging to his arm was Blakely, her face tear-streaked and pitiful. Before I could process the shock, she slapped me across the cheek. “Mrs. Maxwell, I know you hate me. But my baby is innocent. What gives you the right to hurt him?!” I touched my stinging cheek, a detached, cynical laugh rising in my throat. Honestly, I had no idea what she was talking about. I hadn’t left the house all day. But Blakely’s audacity was a shield given to her by Owen. Owen stood beside her, a cigar clamped between his fingers, and sneered. “Sierra, was that really necessary? Because you couldn’t have a child, you paid someone to run over hers?” His words were sharp as glass, slicing open the old, festering wound of my miscarriage. But I didn’t have time for this drama. The System was reminding me that only a few minutes remained before my departure. I walked straight toward them, past Owen, and slapped Blakely. That slap was a return for her audacity and a reward for her three years as his mistress. If I didn’t hit her back today, I never would. Blakely was stunned. When she recovered, she collapsed into Owen’s arms, sobbing hysterically. He rubbed his temples, then slowly pulled the tablecloth off the dining table. CRASH! The sharp, piercing sound of shattering glass and ceramic echoed through the vast house. The cake and the dishes, like my five years of marriage, were smashed across the floor. He walked to me, pressed me against the window frame, and clamped his hand tightly around my chin. His high, proud brow was furrowed, and his eyes were utterly cold and unfeeling. “I told you I would handle this. Why did you have to provoke her?” “Sierra Reed, when did your tactics become so cheap, so vicious?” “Or is this just another pathetic performance to try and force me to come home?” Behind me, the window was wide open. The night air from the nineteenth floor rushed in around me. At that moment, the midnight clock chimed. The System’s voice was prompt. “Home Channel is now open. Host will return to the original world upon successfully completing the death requirement in the current world.” I smiled softly, pushing his hand away. My voice was gentle. “Yes, Owen. I am that vicious.” Owen frowned, confused. I pointed at Blakely and smiled at him. “So, I’m stepping aside. You and your Blakely—go have a wonderful life together.” Then, as Owen Maxwell watched, I turned, arched my back, and fell backward out of the nineteenth-floor window.

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It was Juniper’s ‘Sip and See’ party, and the air was thick with the scent of lilies and new money. Savannah Wells, the woman Rhys Caldwell always called his “associate” but who acted more like a sister-wife, leaned into him, her smile a predatory arc, and proposed a game. A high-stakes one. Rhys didn’t just indulge her; he looked at her with a careless, almost doting air. “How do you want to play, Sav?” Savannah’s gaze landed on me—a deliberate, challenging dart—then settled on the baby in my arms. “Let’s play with the dice. Best two out of three.” “If I lose,” she purred, “that prime waterfront lot, the Sinclair Development Property, is yours. If I win, this child—” she gestured to my daughter, my Juniper, “—she goes to my distant relatives out East. A goodwill adoption. A little charity case to boost my karma.” The room went silent. This was his blood. His daughter. Rhys, my husband, merely took a languid pull from his custom cigarette, then casually extinguished it. “Fine by me. She’s just a girl-child. If she makes you happy, take her.” My world fractured. Despair was a lead weight in my gut, right until a soft, milky voice sounded in my head: 【They think they can sell Baby? Cute. Clearly, they’ve never met a CEO’s goddaughter.】 【I’m the designated deity of the Underworld’s favorite. The Scroll of Fates? It’s currently tucked into my diaper. Right next to a fresh change.】 【Mom, don’t you dare fold! Agree to the terms! We’ll win her fortune, ditch this deadbeat daddy, and go full single-mom billionaire!】 I froze. My daughter said that? A strange, fierce calm washed over me. I stood, walked to the nearest high-stakes poker table, and sat down, cradling Juniper. “You’re on, Savannah,” I said, my voice cutting across the room’s stunned silence. “First one to cry uncle buys the whole table a round of Veuve Clicquot.” 1 The opulent party hall was instantly hushed. Every eye was on me, a mixture of shock, pity, and the intoxicating thrill of seeing a spectacle unfold. Rhys’s brow lifted, deepening the smirk already playing on his lips. “Ella Sinclair, you sure about this?” His voice was low, carrying just enough for everyone to hear. “Don’t go losing and then crying to me later.” Savannah, clinging to his arm, let out a delighted, artificial laugh. “Oh, Rhys, darling, look at her. She’s got spunk! I love it.” She looked at me, her eyes pinpricks of icy disdain. “Ella, the rules are simple: High-Low. Best two out of three. You’re the dealer. I’ll guess.” She pushed a document toward the center of the table—the Deed to the Sinclair Development Lot, a property valued at over three hundred million dollars. “I lose, it’s yours.” Her eyes dropped to my sleeping daughter, and her tongue flicked over her red lips. “You lose, the child is mine. We sign the papers. All these fine people are our witnesses.” The little life in my arms shifted, blew a tiny milk-bubble, and the soft, menacing voice returned to my mind: 【Mom, don’t worry. That one has fifty years left on her contract. Him, forty-eight. Tonight, Baby’s sending them both to the poor house. The Ledger says she’s completely toast. Just listen to me and roll.】 I took a deep breath. I carefully handed Juniper to the nearest nanny, instructing her to take the baby far away. I didn’t want this sordid display to soil my daughter’s eyes. “Agreed,” I said. I picked up the dice cup. The cool metal was grounding against my fingertips. “But if this is a wager, it needs to be fair.” I looked directly at Rhys. “You will be the notary. You examine the dice, and you announce the result.” Rhys paused, then laughed—a booming, arrogant sound. “Fine.” He took the cup and the dice, inspecting them under the glaring chandeliers, even weighing them in his palm. “Perfectly clean. Begin.” His look was patronizing, like watching a pet perform a trick. Savannah’s smile was triumphant. She was practically draped across Rhys, already celebrating her win. “Your move, Ella.” 2 I picked up the dice cup again. The three ivory cubes rattled with a crisp, clear sound. My hand was steady. Almost unnervingly so. 【Mom, don’t shake it. Just set it down. Now.】 Juni’s voice was languid, laced with a casual, born-to-rule authority. I followed her instruction, slamming the cup down on the polished mahogany. Thwack. The sound echoed in the sudden, deep silence. Savannah’s eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised by my decisiveness. She batted her eyelashes at Rhys. “Rhys, darling, what’s your guess? High or Low?” He lifted his glass, took a sip of single malt, and didn’t even glance at me. “Whatever you decide.” “Low, then,” Savannah said, tapping her fingernail on the expensive felt. Her red nail almost pierced the fabric. “I guess Low. One-two-three. Under six.” Rhys gestured to me with his chin. Open it. I didn’t move. I just looked at Savannah. “Savannah, sure you don’t want to reconsider?” Her smile hitched. “No. Low.” “Okay.” I slowly lifted the cup. Three dice lay there. Six. Six. Five. Seventeen. High. A collective, stifled gasp rippled through the guests. Savannah’s face drained of color. She stared at the dice as if trying to burn holes in them with her mind. “No! That’s impossible!” she shrieked, springing to her feet. “You cheated!” I didn’t say a word. I just looked toward Rhys. He frowned, picked up the dice again, and weighed them. He shook them, listening intently. After a long moment, he tossed them back on the table. “The dice are clean.” He finally looked at me, his gaze analytical, searching. Savannah was still furious, glaring at me. “Then your technique is rigged!” I smiled. “Savannah, you brought the dice cup, you chose the dice, and the notary is my husband, Rhys Caldwell. How exactly did I cheat?” I paused, then pulled the Deed to the Sinclair Development Lot toward my side of the table. “First game. I win.” Savannah’s chest rose and fell rapidly. She shot me a look of pure malice, then turned to Rhys, tears suddenly welling up. “Rhys…” His expression was dark, but he patted her hand reassuringly. “Relax. Two more games.” He looked at me, his eyes cold and dangerous. “Ella, know when to quit. Give Savannah back the deed. We’ll call this whole farce a night.” 【Hear that, Mom? What a pile of steaming garbage.】 The voice in my head was tired but fierce. 【Ignore him. Keep going. Next game, we take his watch, his shoes, and his dignity. Let him see what it’s like to really lose.】 I folded the deed carefully and placed it into my small evening bag. “Rhys, you said, ‘If she makes you happy, take her.’” “Well, I won. Are you going back on your word?” I met his gaze without flinching. “Or does the CEO of Caldwell Financial only stand by his promises when the terms suit him?” Rhys’s face hardened. The temperature in the room plummeted. “Fine. Excellent,” he spat out. “Keep going.” 3 The second round. Savannah was no longer smug; her focus was deadly. She tracked my hands, trying to catch every minute detail. My actions were identical: I picked up the cup, shook it, and slammed it down. 【Mom, don’t shake it hard. Just a quick rattle, then set it down. We need to end this now. Baby’s battery is running low. Fast finish.】 I complied. The moment the cup settled, Savannah practically screamed her guess. “High!” Her voice was sharp, desperate, fueled by the conviction of an absolute, make-or-break certainty. Rhys’s brow was furrowed, his eyes glued to the table. I flipped the cup. Two. Two. One. Five. Low. Savannah’s eyes flew open. The color in her face vanished entirely. She lost. Best two out of three. There was no coming back from this. “No! This can’t be!” she wailed, lunging to grab me. Rhys grabbed her, but his own face was a mask of shock and confusion. He looked at me as if I were a complete stranger. The guests buzzed with hushed whispers: “She cleaned her out.” “Didn’t see that coming.” Savannah heard the whispers. She tore her arm from Rhys, pointing a trembling, accusing finger at my face. “Ella Sinclair! You bitch! You cheated!” I stood, looking down at her. “Savannah, a bet is a bet.” I picked up the cup and held it out to her. “If you don’t believe me, check the dice yourself.” She swatted my hand away, and the cup clattered across the floor. “I don’t believe you! You used some kind of trick!” She turned to Rhys, tears streaming down her face. “Rhys, she’s attacking me! Look at her! She’s not the wife you married!” Rhys’s expression was terrifyingly cold. He ignored Savannah’s theatrical sobs and stared at me. “How did you do it?” I offered a slight smile. “Beginner’s luck.” “Luck?” He scoffed. He clearly wasn’t buying it. “Ella, I’m giving you one last chance. Give the deed back and apologize to Savannah.” I crossed my arms. “And if I don’t?” His eyes turned dangerous. “Then you find out.” He reached into his jacket pocket and threw something small and white onto the table. It was a piece of flawless mutton-fat jade—the pendant my mother had given me, the one I had given Rhys as a commitment token years ago. He had sworn to wear it always. Now, it landed on the table like a piece of trash. “That jade, plus the title to the Caldwell Heights Estate,” he announced, the name of our home ringing with finality. “That’s the wager for the third round.” Savannah instantly stopped crying, her eyes lighting up with savage expectation. My breath caught in my throat. My mother’s pendant. 【Mom, don’t get emotional. That hunk of junk is worth nothing. We’ll get a better one.】 Juni’s voice was muffled, as if she were chewing her hand, but it was brutal. 【Take it. Tonight, we make him lose everything but the underwear he’s standing in. Say yes.】 I closed my eyes. When I opened them, the last vestige of warmth was gone. “All right,” I said, sitting back down. “The stakes are set.” Rhys’s lips curled into a cruel, satisfied smile. “You win, the jade and the estate are yours.” He paused, his eyes flicking to the corner where the nanny held Juniper. “You lose, you will personally take your daughter and deliver her to Savannah.” 4 That sentence was a poisoned blade, plunged directly into my heart. The shocked murmurs from the guests were louder this time. A father betting his own child? Savannah was openly ecstatic, her eyes bright with the promise of victory. I ignored them both and focused on the cold jade pendant on the table. It was the only tangible link to my past, a piece of myself. 【Mom, stay in the game.】 【He’s not gambling with you. He’s gambling with the Underworld’s Goddaughter. This deadbeat is about to get served.】 【Final roll, Mom: Left wrist tilt, exactly three degrees. Shake exactly seven times, then slam.】 I followed Juniper’s bizarrely specific instructions, my motions sharp and precise. The cup hit the table. The voice in my head was now a tired whisper. 【Done… Mom… Baby needs… to sleep and recharge…】 This time, Savannah didn’t rush to guess. She exchanged a look of pure certainty with Rhys. They had me, they thought. “I guess… Low,” Savannah said, her voice smooth and seductive again. “I trust Rhys’s judgment.” Rhys tapped his finger on the table, a slow, methodical sound. “Open it.” My fingers touched the cool lip of the cup. The silence was absolute; I could hear the frantic pounding of my own heart. I lifted my eyes to meet Rhys’s. His face was devoid of tension, only cold indifference. In his mind, Juniper and I were just tools for his entertainment and Savannah’s pleasure. I offered him a terrible, humorless smile. Then, I snatched the cup off the table.

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Mrs. Perez, who runs her life by the clock, was nearly thirty minutes late today. “Sienna, I am so sorry, dinner is not ready, please don’t be mad at me…” she stammered, wringing her hands. “But truly, there was nothing I could do. I waited downstairs for over half an hour, and no one would buzz me in. I called Mr. Grant, but he didn’t answer.” I paused while taking off my Italian leather pumps, a frown pulling at my brow. “Mrs. Perez, I explicitly told Rhys to give you the key fob, didn’t I?” Mrs. Perez looked completely bewildered. “The key fob? Mr. Grant never gave me a card, dear.” “Never gave it to you?” “No, ma’am.” She wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead, her voice cautious. “For the last month, I’ve been either sneaking in after another resident, or I’d call Mr. Grant and he’d unlock the door remotely.” “Today, he just wouldn’t answer the phone. I was desperate downstairs…” That was strange. I distinctly remembered checking the digital lock’s access log a few weeks ago and seeing regular swipe entries from that spare key fob. 1 The apartment—a sprawling, ultra-modern penthouse—was one I had purchased outright before the wedding. My job requires a brutal travel schedule, so I hired Mrs. Perez to manage dinner and cleaning. At the time, I handed the spare key fob directly to Rhys, my husband. “Mrs. Perez is coming for her trial run tomorrow,” I’d instructed him. “Give this to her so she has easy access.” He took the small, plastic card, his smile warm and attentive. “Relax, honey, I’ve got it. It’s handled.” But today, the card was not in Mrs. Perez’s possession. I logged into the apartment’s smart-lock app. The screen confirmed my initial thought: in the past month, the spare key fob had been used to enter the building seventeen times. Rhys and I both used the fingerprint scanner, which meant those seventeen entries were made by the person holding that card. Who was it? As I considered the digital trail, the front door opened. Rhys was home. “Honey, Mrs. Perez was late today because she said she couldn’t get in,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual. “Didn’t I ask you a month ago to give her the key fob?” Rhys, who was unknotting his tie, froze. His forced chuckle was immediate and grating. “Oh… that thing.” “I was so slammed at work, I must have completely forgotten. I probably just shoved it in a drawer somewhere. I’ll look for it, I promise.” “It’s fine if you can’t find it,” I said, setting down the magazine I wasn’t reading. My voice was calm, almost flat. “I’ll just call building management tomorrow to report it lost and get a replacement. It’s too inconvenient for Mrs. Perez.” “Don’t!” Rhys spun around, the word sharp and loud, his voice several decibels higher than normal. When he saw my puzzled expression, he immediately softened his posture, walking over to wrap an arm around my shoulders. “My point is, why waste the money on a replacement fee? It’s probably only a few hundred dollars, but still.” “It’s definitely in the apartment somewhere. I’ll go through everything this weekend, I’ll find it.” He gently turned me to face the living room. “You’re working so hard, Sienna. Don’t worry your beautiful head about something so small.” He paused, running a thumb over my cheekbone. “You look stressed, actually. You’re getting that anxious look again. You used to have such a soft, healthy glow.” “Really?” “Totally. You look so much better when you’re relaxed.” The slight flattery, combined with the mild distraction, was enough to make me drop the subject of the key fob. But the knot of unease remained, tight and low in my gut. That night, after he’d gone to shower, I picked up his phone. The password hadn’t changed: my birthday. His text messages were clean; no suspicious threads. Even his social media was set to the three-day viewing limit. I checked his Amazon orders, scrolling through a list of toiletries and household supplies. Everything looked normal. Until I clicked on the “Deleted Items” folder. Hidden among the recovered orders, I saw a purchase from a week ago: an emerald-cut tennis necklace. The shipping address was his office, and the recipient was listed as: Eliza Soto.

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