Author: Momo Chan

I was a ward of the Sunshine State Orphanage. One day, two wealthy families arrived. Both brought their sons, who were three years older than me. They both wanted to adopt me. Mrs. Higgins, the orphanage director, held my hand and asked gently, “Sweetheart, which one would you like to be your big brother?” I looked at the two boys in front of me. Just as I was about to point to the boy who looked like a golden retriever—warm, sunny, and smiling—rows of translucent subtitles suddenly floated before my eyes: [Girl, do not pick Gavin Sterling. He is the Main Character. In the future, he will only love the Heroine, Sarah Locke.] [Choose Liam Vance. He is the Villain. He looks cold and gloomy on the outside, but he secretly wants a little sister. If he has you, maybe he’ll learn to love. Maybe he won’t become a ruthless monster. Maybe he won’t have to die a tragic death.] My gaze shifted to the other boy. He was wearing a miniature black suit, his dark hair messy and rebellious, his expression cold as ice. I walked over, took his hand—which was freezing cold—and asked in my sweetest voice: “Will you be my big brother?” 1 Dust motes danced in the beams of sunlight cutting through the old orphanage windows. I sat on a small wooden stool, counting the cracks in the floor tiles. I had been at Sunshine State for five years. I knew every crack by heart. “Chloe King, come here a moment,” Mrs. Higgins called out from the hallway. I looked up and smoothed down my faded blue dress. It was the best one we had, saved specifically for adoption days. “Coming, Mrs. Higgins,” I chirped, jogging over. My heart was pounding. Last night, I had that dream again—a boy in black standing in the distance. I couldn’t see his face, but I knew he was waiting for me. Mrs. Higgins fixed my collar. “Two very nice families are here today. They both want to adopt you.” Her eyes twinkled. “This time might be the one, Chloe.” I bit my lip. People always said I was cute, but they always picked someone else. In the main hall, two couples were talking. I hid behind Mrs. Higgins, peeking out. One couple wore bright, casual clothes. The mother was crouching down, talking to a boy who radiated sunshine. He was about twelve, with chestnut hair and a smile that reached his eyes. He was flying a toy plane through the air. The other couple was starkly different. The man wore a sharp black suit. The woman wore a deep blue dress; she looked elegant but pale and sickly. Standing beside them was a boy in a black suit. He matched the figure in my dreams. He was taller than the first boy, hands shoved in his pockets, staring blankly out the window. “This is Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, and their son, Gavin,” Mrs. Higgins introduced them. “And this is Mr. and Mrs. Vance, and their son, Liam.” Gavin ran over, grinning. “Hi! I’m Gavin. I’m thirteen. Dad said I might get a sister!” He grabbed my hand enthusiastically. “Do you like planes? I can teach you how to make paper jets. I know a ton of designs!” “Gavin, don’t scare her,” Mrs. Sterling scolded gently, smiling at me. “Chloe, right? You’re adorable. If you come home with us, Gavin will be a great brother.” I instinctively looked at the other boy. Liam was still by the window, but now he had turned his head. His eyes were pitch black, staring straight at me. Cold, like winter stars. “Sweetheart,” Mrs. Higgins asked, “who do you choose?” I looked at Gavin’s warmth, then at Liam’s silence. The Sterlings looked happy. The Vances looked… broken. Just as I raised my finger toward Gavin, the text appeared in the air, glowing like a HUD in a video game: [Girl, do not pick Gavin Sterling. He is the Main Character. He will eventually abandon you for the Heroine, Sarah Locke. You will die alone in a foreign country.] I blinked. The text didn’t vanish. More appeared: [Choose Liam Vance. The Villain. He looks cold, but he needs you. Save him, and you save yourself.] My heart hammered against my ribs. Was this a hallucination? But the text was so clear. [Liam looks mean, but he will be the best brother if you give him a chance.] I looked up at Liam. He was frowning slightly, confused as to why I was staring. I took a deep breath and made up my mind. I walked toward Liam. As I got closer, he stiffened. I saw a flash of panic in his dark eyes. I stopped in front of him and grabbed his cold hand. “Will you be my big brother?” I asked, looking up. The room went silent. Liam’s eyes widened. His lips trembled. I saw shock, followed by a flicker of desperate longing. “Are you… sure?” His voice was low, raspy. “I don’t know how to… fold paper planes.” I nodded. “I’m sure.” Liam’s hand slowly tightened around mine. “Okay.” In that moment, something in his eyes melted. The subtitles flashed again: [Congratulations. You have chosen the true future.] 2 The Vance family car rolled through towering iron gates, the tires crunching on gravel. “We’re here,” Mr. Vance—Father, now—said briefly. The house was a gray stone mansion, massive and intimidating. Heavy curtains covered every window. I glanced at Liam sitting next to me. Since I picked him, he hadn’t said a word. “Let’s go inside,” Mrs. Vance said softly. She looked exhausted. I fumbled with the door handle and nearly tripped getting out. A pair of hands steadied my shoulders. Liam. “Careful,” he muttered, then immediately let go and shoved his hands back in his pockets. The interior was cold marble and crystal chandeliers. It was so big it echoed. “Martha will show you to your room,” Mrs. Vance said, coughing lightly. “I’m tired. I’ll be upstairs.” She walked up the stairs slowly, looking frail. A round-faced woman appeared. “Miss Chloe? I’m Martha, the housekeeper. Come this way.” I looked at Liam. He stood rooted to the spot. “Liam…” I whispered. “I live on the third floor,” he said, avoiding my eyes. Then he turned and vanished up the stairs. My room was on the second floor. Pale blue walls, a white bed, and brand-new fairy tale books on the desk. That night, dinner was just Father and me. Martha said Mother was unwell and Liam wasn’t hungry. “You start at Saint Mary’s Elementary tomorrow,” Father said, cutting his steak. The knife screeched against the plate. “Thank you… Dad,” I tried. He paused, grunted an acknowledgment, and went back to reading documents. That night, I couldn’t sleep. The house was too quiet. Around midnight, my door clicked open. I squeezed my eyes shut, peeking through my lashes. It was Liam. He walked silently to my bed in his pajamas. He stood there for a long time, just watching. Then, he reached out and tucked the blanket around my shoulders. “Goodnight… Chloe,” he whispered. I held my breath until he left. The blanket smelled faintly of pine soap—Liam’s scent. The next morning, Liam was at the breakfast table. “Good morning,” I chirped. “Morning,” he mumbled into his toast. “The school bus will be here in twenty minutes,” Martha announced. Liam stood up abruptly. “I’ll drive her.” Martha blinked. “But Liam, your high school is in the opposite direction.” “I’m driving her,” he repeated, grabbing his keys. Twenty minutes later, I was in the passenger seat of his car. “Thanks for the ride,” I said. Liam stared at the road. “New school. If anyone bullies you, tell me.” When we arrived, he walked me to the main office. “This is my sister,” he told the receptionist, his voice hard. “She’s new. Look out for her.” As I walked to my class, I looked back. Liam was still standing there, watching. He raised a hand in an awkward wave. My class was full of curious stares. During recess, a group of girls surrounded me. “Are you really Liam Vance’s sister?” a girl with a ponytail asked. “You don’t look like him.” “I’m adopted,” I said honestly. “Oh. So they bought you,” another girl giggled. “Did you cost a lot?” My face burned. Suddenly, the classroom went dead silent. I looked up. Liam was standing in the doorway, his face like a thundercloud. He strode over, towering over the elementary schoolers. “She’s my sister,” Liam said, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. “Say one more word, and see what happens.” The girls scattered like terrified birds. Liam looked at me, his expression softening. “Come find me at lunch. We’re eating together.” After he left, I looked at my desk. The glowing text appeared: [He is starting to care.] 3 A month passed. I settled into life at the Vance manor. One afternoon, I ran up to Liam after school. “Guess what? A new girl transferred in today! Her name is Sarah, and she sat next to me!” Liam frowned. “Sarah?” “Yeah! She lent me her colored pencils. She’s so nice.” [Warning: Sarah Locke has appeared. The Heroine.] The text floated in front of my face. I blinked it away. “Don’t trust strangers too easily,” Liam muttered. “But no one else talks to me,” I said quietly. Liam went silent. “I’m free this weekend. I can teach you how to make paper planes.” I looked up, eyes wide. “Really? You said you didn’t know how.” He looked away, ears turning pink. “I… learned.” That weekend, I knocked on his door. “Come in.” His room was amazing. Posters of galaxies covered the walls. Telescopes and star charts were everywhere. “You like astronomy?” I asked. He quickly closed the book he was reading—Astrophysics for People in a Hurry. “Did you need something?” “I made this for you.” I handed him a drawing. It was a girl and a boy holding hands under the stars. Liam took it. His fingers trembled slightly. He opened a drawer to put it away, and I saw he had kept everything—the paper frog I made, the clay bear, even a messy card. He kept it all. “Why are you so good at paper planes?” I asked later, as we flew them in the living room. “I spent a lot of time alone as a kid,” he said simply. My heart ached for him. Monday came. Sarah wasn’t in school. During a break, I went to the bathroom, but when I tried to leave, the door was locked from the outside. “Hello? Anyone?” I banged on the door. Hours seemed to pass. Finally, a janitor opened it. “Weird, there was an ‘Out of Order’ sign on the door. A high school boy told me to check.” I ran out and saw Liam at the end of the hall, leaning against the wall. He nodded at me once, then walked away. That evening, we walked home under the setting sun. “Why did you choose me that day at the orphanage?” Liam asked suddenly, stopping under an oak tree. “Because you didn’t choose Gavin,” he whispered before I could answer. “Everyone chooses Gavin. He’s the sun. I’m just… the shadow.” He looked at me, his eyes vulnerable. “It was the first time anyone chose me.” The subtitles floated up: [He has lived in Gavin’s shadow his whole life. You changed that.] I grabbed his hand. “Because you’re better than anyone else, Liam.” He squeezed my hand back. “Idiot.” But he was smiling. 4 May arrived. Liam’s birthday was coming up. I used all my allowance to buy a limited edition book: The Hubble Legacy. The day before his birthday, Father came home. He tossed an expensive gaming console on the table without even wrapping it. Liam didn’t even look at it. “Liam,” Father said at dinner. “I hear you’re top of your class again. Good. Keep it up for the business.” Mother coughed weakly. The tension was thick. The next morning, I snuck the book into Liam’s backpack. After school, I found him on the roof terrace of our house. “Happy Birthday!” I shouted, holding a small, slightly melted cupcake I’d bought from the corner bakery. Liam turned around. “You… got this for me?” “Yup! And check your bag!” He pulled out the book. His eyes softened in a way I’d never seen. “Thank you.” We ate the cupcake together. “Make a wish!” I said. “I don’t have any,” he said. “Can I make one for you?” I closed my eyes. I wish my brother would be happy and never lonely again. “What did you wish for?” “Can’t tell. Won’t come true.” Liam adjusted his telescope. “Want to see Saturn?” We looked at the stars until late. “Do you want to be an astronomer?” I asked. “Father wouldn’t allow it,” he said bitterly. “But it’s your dream.” He didn’t answer, just patted my head. A week later, Mother’s condition crashed. An ambulance came in the night. Liam went with her. He came back at dawn, eyes red and hollow. “She needs surgery,” he rasped. Three days later, I visited the hospital. I showed Mother a drawing of our family smiling. Liam watched me, his face tight. The subtitles flashed, bright red: [Warning: In three days, Mrs. Vance will die. Prepare yourself. He will need you.] My heart sank.

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After my family went bankrupt, I was picked up off the street by my former, gloomy lackey and taken to his cramped rental apartment. I was spoiled and delicate, constantly complaining about the food and the living conditions. To support me, he worked eight part-time jobs a day. The way he looked at me grew darker and more terrifying by the minute. But the conditions were still subpar, and I honestly couldn’t stand it anymore. The day I decided to throw a tantrum and leave, a translucent comment stream—like a Twitch chat—floated across my vision. [Just let the side character leave. She’s abandoning the only person who can help her reclaim her family fortune.] [Yeah, later when she finds out the Male Lead is loaded, she tries to crawl back. So stupid and pathetic. Why would he want her then? She ends up getting hit by a truck. RIP bozo.] [Why isn’t she moving? Throw a tantrum! If she doesn’t leave, the Female Lead won’t have a chance to capture the Male Lead’s heart. He looks all gloomy, but wait until you see him in action…] I froze, staring at the words “reclaim her family fortune.” My lackey asked coldly, “What? Is the food not to your liking again?” I stopped my hand, which was about to smash the bowl on the floor, and gave a reserved nod. “It’s… passable, I guess.” 1 To show my sincerity, I scooped up a huge spoonful of oatmeal and shoved it into my mouth. I didn’t realize that while the surface had cooled, the bottom was still scalding hot. I flinched in pain. “Caleb! Why didn’t you let it cool down before bringing it to me?!” Tears welled up in my eyes. I stuck out my scalded, red tongue and glared at him accusingly. I totally forgot about the whole “be nice to Caleb to get my money back” plan. [Thought this side character changed her ways? Nope, still a brat. Even if she doesn’t leave, the Male Lead is gonna snap eventually.] Reading that comment, my arrogance deflated instantly. I was about to stammer out an apology. But Caleb turned around without a word and walked away from the table. Panic surged in my chest. I stood there, helpless. Until he came back and grabbed my chin. Caleb’s gaze was quiet but intense, focused on my mouth. He popped an ice cube into my mouth, his fingers brushing against my lips. “Keep it there.” Who gave you permission to order me around? I puffed out my cheeks and sucked on the ice, surprisingly not arguing back. Caleb didn’t have much time. After making my meal, he shoveled a few bites into his own mouth. Then he had to rush to his next gig. Before leaving, Caleb stared at me for a long moment, then said slowly, “Be good and wait for me to come back.” I felt a little guilty. If I hadn’t seen those comments, I would have already stormed out in a huff. But now… Sneaking away like a coward? That’s not my style. My guilt looked like agreement to Caleb. He walked over, face dark, and clamped his hand around my wrist. “I’m not going. Ava, don’t even think about leaving.” I wanted to cry. If he skipped work, our quality of life would tank even further. Skipping a whole afternoon? We’d starve. “I’m not leaving! Caleb, don’t you want to buy me that bag? Go to work!” I finally managed to chase him out. I collapsed onto the rock-hard mattress, thinking about the bitter days ahead, and actually started crying. Ugh, if I had known, I would never have gone home with Caleb that day. 2 For the first twenty-some years of my life, everything went my way. I was the jewel of the wealthy Sterling family. I had a posse of followers who flattered and obeyed me. Caleb was the quietest, most unlikable one of the bunch. Since he was a scholarship student sponsored by my family and was decently handsome, I was usually willing to let him tag along. But he didn’t know how to suck up. He just stared at you with those gloomy, silent eyes. Being stared at like that made me uncomfortable, so I bullied him in public quite a few times. Then my father went bankrupt and was framed, ending up in prison. My former followers moved into my mansion, and I was kicked out, barefoot. My so-called friends just laughed at me. Even my posse was threatened into silence; no one dared to help. In the cold wind, I heard more mockery than I had in my entire life. When I was terrified and lost, it was Caleb who found me. He brushed the dirt off my feet and silently carried me on his back. This gloomy, cold man… his hands gripping my thighs were burning hot. I sniffled. “What are you doing here? Here to laugh at me too?” He said simply, “I’m taking care of you from now on.” I blurted out, “Why? I was so mean to you.” I regretted it as soon as I said it. Finally someone came for me. I was freezing to death. After a long silence, Caleb said, “Just repaying a debt. Don’t overthink it.” Unexpectedly, he actually had a conscience. I was cold, so I pressed tight against his back. Caleb looked thin, but his broad shoulders blocked the wind completely. He walked steadily, step by step. An unfamiliar emotion began to spread in my chest. I suddenly felt like crying. I looked up and said stubbornly, “Fine… I’ll temporarily allow you to take care of me.” 3 Later, I realized what that emotion was. Gratitude. I rarely thanked anyone. From birth, I got whatever I wanted. Good things were supposed to be mine. Why would I need to be grateful? This resulted in my gratitude sensors being extremely weak. Just one day after Caleb took me in, I regretted it. I wanted to scream. Caleb poured me water. Me: “Does boiling toilet water suddenly make it drinkable?” Caleb cooked for me. Me: “Cheap ingredients matched with your atrocious cooking skills. It’s garbage upon garbage.” I threw tantrums all day until bedtime. As soon as I lay down, I cried. How can a mattress be this hard?! Caleb padded it with everything he had, but I still couldn’t sleep. I tossed and turned, finally sitting up. “Hey, stop sleeping on the floor. Come up here.” Caleb’s breathing hitched. “Don’t mess around, Ava. How can I sleep with you?” Everyone called me “Princess” or “Miss Sterling,” but Caleb refused. My rebellious streak flared up. “No! I need you to be my human mattress!” Caleb didn’t move or speak. I pouted. “Fine. If you don’t come, I won’t sleep.” I sat cross-legged on the bed, prepared to outlast him. Moonlight streamed through the window. I saw a struggle on his face. Finally, he gave in. “Don’t move around. And of course, I won’t do anything…” Caleb was giving disclaimers. But I had already picked my spot, curled up, and hugged him tight. Caleb stopped talking mid-sentence. I felt much better. I used to sleep hugging a giant polar bear plushie. Caleb wasn’t as soft, but the size was about right. I was in a good mood, muttering “Goodnight” to myself. Then I fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, the plushie got warmer and warmer, like a little furnace. So cozy. I hugged tighter. 4 Since then, I’ve been sharing a bed with Caleb. Today was no different. Caleb, looking exhausted, brought a basin of warm water for my feet. “Wash up and get in bed. I’ll dump the water after I shower.” The comment stream exploded. [Is this girl for real? Living off him and making him wash her feet? She should be serving him!] [Ahhh when does the Female Lead show up? Only she will treat our boy right.] [Soon, soon. Then this brat can go live on the streets!] I was confused. I’ve had people wash my feet since I was a kid. I was used to it. I didn’t think Caleb minding was bad. I knocked my head. I said I’d be nicer to him today. So I got out of bed and clumsily dumped the water myself. Water splashed on my hands. I was disgusted and washed them several times. When I came back, Caleb had just finished showering. Seeing me holding the basin, he paused. “Why did you dump it yourself?” I shrugged. “Felt like it.” After getting in bed, Caleb habitually tried to pull me into his arms. I refused. I thought, I dumped the water and I’m not using him as a mattress. That’s nice enough, right? He shouldn’t kick me out now. Unexpectedly, Caleb sat up, face dark, eyes scary. “Ava, what is wrong with you today?” I felt wronged. I was being nice, and he was yelling at me? I snapped, “I sleep how I want! What’s your problem?” Hearing this, the rims of Caleb’s eyes turned red. He looked even scarier. He grabbed my wrist tight, leaving a red mark. “Ava, do you think I’m a toy? You play with me when you want and toss me aside when you don’t?” He guessed it. He was literally the replacement for my polar bear. Caleb read my expression and gritted his teeth. “What are we, Ava? What is this?” What are we? I’m not a rich heiress anymore, and he’s not exactly my lackey. I stammered, unable to answer. Caleb gave a dark smile, locked me in his arms, and wrapped his limbs around me tight. “Ava, I don’t care what we are. I’m never letting you go.”

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Before the SATs, the tech billionaire heir was dumped by the school’s Prom Queen in the harshest way possible. I was sitting nearby, gnawing on dry ramen, and leaned in toward him while he stared blankly at his textbooks. “I look like her. Want to date me instead to make her jealous?” He was silent for a moment, then handed me the bouquet of roses meant for her. I took his money with a clear conscience. I demanded a hundred thousand a month. He didn’t say a word. He wired me two hundred thousand. After we got married, he fulfilled his marital duties four times a week like clockwork—punctual, efficient, excellent service. Everyone said Julian Thorne had found true love. Until one day, his assistant whispered to me: “That new secretary Julian hired? Rumor has it she was the Prom Queen back in the day. “Ma’am, Mr. Thorne seems very fond of her. He even gave her your favorite lounge…” 1 I went after Julian Thorne for one reason: money. He was a hopeless romantic, the kind who showered his girlfriends with cash. While I was starving and surviving on instant noodles, I envied the Prom Queen, Sarah, who wore $200,000 diamond earrings before she even graduated high school. I couldn’t understand why she dumped a billionaire like Julian to run off with some broke scholarship kid. So when Sarah slapped Julian and stormed off, I blocked her path at the classroom door. “Did you guys really break up?” She looked at my worn-out thrift store clothes with disdain and shook off my hand. “Yeah. We’re done.” “Can I chase him then?” She looked me up and down, laughing out loud. “Sure, go ahead. If you actually land him, I’ll give you these earrings.” I stared at the $200,000 earrings Julian had given her and nodded. But at the post-graduation party, when she saw Julian walk in with me on his arm, her smile froze. When Julian went to the restroom, she requested a song for me. The lyrics were all about “cheating sluts.” The room went silent, everyone staring at me. “Bunny, you’re pathetic,” Sarah sneered. I knew exactly what Julian saw me as. But I still popped a bottle of champagne and poured the entire thing over Sarah’s head. Then I snatched the earrings off her. “A bet is a bet. If you didn’t want me to date him, you shouldn’t have gotten engaged to that broke guy.” “Bunny Lin!” Sarah screamed and lunged at me, but a strong hand pulled me behind a broad back. Julian took the slap meant for me. He dragged me out of the club and didn’t say a word all night. I figured his heart still ached for her. I knew my place perfectly. I quietly followed Sarah’s Instagram. Every time she posted a new outfit, I bought the same one. I’d wear it on the nights we had sex. Every time he saw me wearing Sarah’s style, the emotion in his eyes was unreadable. I knew he secretly checked her Instagram too. Looking at me was like looking at a ghost of his past love. My best friend, Chloe, was furious for me. “You’re his wife! Not her shadow!” But I thought it was fine. I asked for $100k a month; he sent $200k. I got greedy and asked for $300k. He sent $500k. Who cares about love when you live like this? I came from a home with no love and no money. If there was a chance to get rich, I’d grab it, dignity be damned. While Julian was still interested, I had to play my part well. On our first anniversary, Sarah updated her Instagram. She got a butterfly tattoo on her neck. I cried from the pain but spent ten hours getting the exact same tattoo. When Julian walked out of the shower and saw the tattoo peeking out from my purple lace slip, he froze while drying his hair. “What’s wrong? You don’t like it?” “Don’t do that again.” He showed no interest in my butterfly. “And throw away all your purple clothes.” My heart sank. Purple was Sarah’s favorite color. Did he get tired of me cosplaying his “one that got away”? Was my job as a substitute ending? “I mean, it hurts,” he said, flicking my forehead. “Even if you don’t copy her, I’ll still give you money.” The next day, the maid took away all my purple clothes. I hated purple anyway. The maid filled my closet with elegant black dresses. I touched the expensive fabric— Wait, did Julian know I liked black? But if I didn’t imitate Sarah, how would I keep my job? So, I tested the waters and asked Julian for $800k. He gave me a black card. No limit. Customized with “Mrs. Thorne.” While shopping with Chloe, she asked curiously, “Didn’t you say you’d do five years, grab the cash, and run? The five years are almost up. When are you divorcing him?” I stared at a baby outfit in the window and fell silent. 2 I had been Julian’s substitute for five years. I didn’t know what loving someone was supposed to look like. I only remembered that before my mom left with another man, the thing she did that made me happiest was knitting me a scarf. Now my fingers were covered in band-aids, and the scarf was finished. But Julian didn’t seem to need it anymore. Because today was our scheduled “couple’s night,” and he was thirty minutes late. I fell asleep waiting on the couch. I was kissed awake. “Sorry, the partners added some last-minute clauses. I’m late.” Julian unbuttoned his shirt, his breath hot but controlled. For the first time, I pushed him away. “When are you planning to divorce me?” His breath hitched. “What are you talking about?” I looked up at him. “I know she’s back. You even gave her my favorite lounge at the office. “I checked. My access card doesn’t work for that room anymore.” His muscles tensed. “Julian, don’t overthink it. I won’t cling to you. I don’t want a huge settlement, just give me…” He was already on his phone, his tone colder than I’d ever heard. “Secretary? What secretary? “And what about the lounge? “Do personnel changes happen without my approval now?” On the other end, the HR director’s voice trembled. “Mr. Thorne, she showed us photos of you two dating in high school. She said the Madam stole her man… “Mrs. Thorne does look like Ms. Sarah, and those photos were definitely of you, sir. We thought it was your instruction…” Julian’s expression was icy. “Blacklist Sarah from the entire industry. I want Mrs. Thorne’s access to the lounge restored in one hour. “And you—go to finance and pick up your severance check.” The HR director tried to explain, but Julian hung up. I looked at him in shock. He turned and hugged me, kissing me hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I haven’t been at headquarters these past few days…” I believed him. He was always flying around the world. But no matter how far he went, he never missed our four nights a week. I was still unsure, gripping his shirt tight. “Blacklisting your ‘one that got away’? Aren’t you afraid she’ll be heartbroken?” “What ‘one that got away’?” His kisses made me breathless. “I only have you.” “Are you… confessing?” “Yes.” “Then, Julian.” I hugged him back fiercely. “Who am I to you?” He paused, then kissed me even deeper. “My wife. The boss.” My body trembled. “Then I’m really going to act like the boss from now on.” “You always should have.” That night, neither of us slept. 3 My knitting skills improved. I unraveled the old scarf and made a bigger, warmer one. But Chloe sent me a video. In the clip, Julian was leaving a mansion in the Hamptons after a meeting. He walked past Sarah, holding a black umbrella. Since being blacklisted, she had nowhere to go. She couldn’t even pay rent. She was soaked, her purple dress clinging to her skin, outlining her curves. She looked at him through teary eyes in the wind. “Julian…” Sarah’s voice trembled. Julian paused for a split second. Then he walked past her without looking back. “Julian! Have you forgotten everything we had?!” Sarah screamed, but Julian didn’t turn around. I breathed a sigh of relief. He knew his duty. But I underestimated Sarah’s resolve. The storm raged all night. She stood downstairs all night. Until she collapsed. A black umbrella appeared in my view. Sarah struggled to open her eyes, looking up at the person holding the umbrella. Julian was dry, his pale face emotionless. But the umbrella tilted gently toward Sarah. Julian flew back to New York the next day as planned. But he gave that Hamptons mansion to Sarah. “Bunny, what do we do? Julian never spends money on anyone but his woman!” I thought for a moment. “Since he says I’m his wife, I’ll handle this the way his wife should.” That same day, Sarah was kicked out of the mansion. And that day, Julian didn’t come home. It was the first time since our marriage that he missed our night. I called him a dozen times. He didn’t answer. The next day, he came home looking exhausted. His eyes were bloodshot. “Did you order Sarah to be kicked out?” I didn’t dodge. “Yes.” “Who gave you the right to be unreasonable?” I was shocked by the accusation in his tone. I looked up. “You mean, as your wife, I should tolerate your ex-girlfriend living in our property?” Julian didn’t speak. He just threw his phone at me with a video playing. On the screen, Sarah was being dragged into an alley by a group of men, her purple dress torn to shreds. Julian’s voice trembled. “If I hadn’t arrived in time, Sarah would have been raped!” I looked at the video coldly. “What do you want me to do?” “Go to the hospital. Apologize to Sarah.” “Julian.” I pushed the phone back. “I will not apologize to a mistress.” “Mistress?” Julian seemed surprised I used that word. A sneer I’d never seen before curled his lips. “If we’re really keeping score, you’re the mistress, aren’t you?” My breath stopped. He ignored my shock and stormed out. The door slammed for the first time. I sat alone on the couch until late at night. Messages from friends kept popping up on my phone: [Bunny! What’s going on? Why is Julian skipping meetings to stay at the hospital with another woman?] [They say she’s Julian’s first love. Is it true?] [Bunny, get to the hospital! Your husband is slipping away!] I didn’t reply to any of them. Instead, I packed my bags and waited for Julian to return three days later. He saw my suitcase and chuckled lightly. “What’s this? Playing the runaway wife?” I handed him the divorce papers. “Let’s divorce. I don’t want the settlement money.” His hand, holding a tea cup, froze. 4 He flipped through the agreement page by page, his expression serious. His hands were trembling slightly. “Divorce? Who’s going to give you that kind of money?” “Thanks to you, Mr. Thorne, I won’t starve.” He paused. “Fine. Divorce. But you have to return every cent I spent on you.” I froze. Five years as a substitute… I had spent a decent amount. Seeing me hesitate, Julian’s smile relaxed a bit. “It’s okay if you can’t pay it back. As long as we don’t divorce…” “Done.” He blinked. I am someone deeply insecure about money. No matter how much I had, I never spent recklessly. Even with nine figures in my account, when Julian wasn’t around, I ate ramen with two eggs. Five years. Income: hundreds of millions. Expenses: two million. I handed him my bank card, then felt around and took off the $200,000 earrings. That covered the rest. “I won these earrings from Sarah in a bet, so they’re technically mine. Here. That settles it.” I took Julian’s hand and placed the earrings in his palm. As I turned to leave, he dropped the earrings and grabbed my wrist. “Don’t go!” “I didn’t really mean for you to pay me back!” The eloquent CEO was suddenly speechless. “Julian, stop blocking me…” I was impatient, but when I turned around, I froze. A tear hit the back of my hand. I stared at him in disbelief. “You… are crying?” “I’m sorry.” His eyes were red. “Don’t do this to me.” I had never seen a man like him cry. If the paparazzi caught this, Thorne Corp’s stock would plummet. So I sat down and listened to his explanation. Turns out, he hadn’t been at the hospital these past few days. He asked his friends to send those provoking messages because he thought I had arranged for those men to assault Sarah. He couldn’t accept that I would do something like that. I could kick her out, but I couldn’t be ruthless enough to have a gang of men violate another woman. But he still took Sarah to the hospital and visited her. Because he didn’t want me to get sued. “Calling you a mistress… I was just angry. I’m sorry.” Julian’s eyes were red. I was silent for a moment. “Julian, you really hurt me this time.” Pain flashed in his eyes. “But I can give you one chance.” His eyes lit up. “Julian, I want you to cut all ties with Sarah. Send her away. Far away.” “Okay…” He gripped my hand tight, like he was holding onto a lost treasure. “I promise.”

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My best friend and I started trying for a baby at the same time. She was obsessed with having the “perfect” child, fixated on every superstition about timing and astrology. When I found out I was pregnant, she discovered she was too. The doctor said everything looked great. But she insisted the baby’s zodiac sign clashed with hers—a bad omen. I told her she was being ridiculous and begged her to keep it. I even stood by her side, arguing against her husband’s family when they hesitated. She kept the baby. A girl. But her mother-in-law, who only wanted a grandson, made her life hell. The house became a war zone of constant screaming and fighting. Then her husband’s business went under. They blamed it on the baby, saying she brought bad luck. One day, while my friend was napping, her mother-in-law “accidentally” suffocated the baby. My friend was devastated. But instead of blaming her in-laws, she turned her rage on me. “We started trying together, but you got pregnant first! You stole my luck! You took my chance at a good baby and left me with this cursed life!” On my daughter’s first birthday, she slipped past the nanny, snatched my baby, and strangled her with a silk scarf. “If I can’t have a child, neither can you!” Grief drove me insane. I grabbed her, and together, we plunged from the roof of my apartment building. When I opened my eyes, I was back on that day. She was holding a bottle of prenatal vitamins, asking me, “They say we need to start taking these three months in advance. Have you started?” I kept my face blank. “I haven’t. Actually, I’m not really trying right now. We’re just going to let nature take its course. You should find someone else to be your ‘pregnancy buddy.’” 1 Sarah’s face froze. “Nature take its course? This is a huge life decision! If you’re going to do it, you can’t just be casual about it.” I shrugged. “People have been having babies for thousands of years without all this planning. It worked out fine for them.” “I’m just going to live my life. Eat, drink, have fun. If it happens, it happens.” Sarah looked horrified. “You can’t compare us to people in the past! The environment is totally different now.” “Besides, there are rules. Some days are good for conceiving, and some days are absolute disasters.” I played along, scrolling through my phone. “Unless one of us is sick, does it really matter?” Sarah scoffed. “It matters a lot!” “First, you have to look at the astrological calendar. You have to avoid the ‘Void Days.’” “Void Days?” “It’s basic energy flow,” she said, her eyes widening with that manic intensity I remembered too well. “The Winter and Summer Solstices. The energy is too weak. If you conceive then, the baby will be sickly.” I raised an eyebrow. “What about the moon? Let me guess, no full moons?” Sarah nodded solemnly. “No New Moons, actually. And no Waxing or Waning Crescents. Those are low-energy phases. A child conceived then will have a weak constitution.” She went on. Solar eclipses? Bad. Thunderstorms? Terrible. According to her, a baby conceived during a storm would grow up violent and uncontrollable because they absorbed the “chaotic energy” of the weather. I listened, stunned. In my last life, she only obsessed over Zodiac signs. She was a Taurus, so she refused to have a Leo or an Aquarius baby because they “clashed.” She almost aborted her first pregnancy because the due date meant the baby would be a Leo—a sign that supposedly brought conflict to her life. “We’d never get along,” she had argued. “Why bring a child into the world just to fight with it?” But this time? She was deep down the rabbit hole of lunar phases and barometric pressure. “I’m telling you,” she said, spitting a little in her excitement. “You can’t conceive if you’ve been drinking, if you’re angry, or if you’ve just recovered from a cold…” The list was endless. Getting pregnant isn’t as easy as TV makes it look. I tried for six months before it happened last time. You only have a few fertile days a month. If you follow Sarah’s rules—avoiding bad moon phases, bad weather, bad moods—you’d have maybe one viable day a year. I waved my hand, cutting her off. “That’s too much math for me. I’m out. You do you.” Sarah pouted, trying to argue, but I made an excuse and bolted. Go ahead, Sarah. Plan your perfect pregnancy. I’d love to see what kind of “perfect” child you end up with this time. 2 I practically ran home, collapsing onto the sofa to catch my breath. I had planned to be chill about this. Just exercise, take my vitamins, and see what happens. But Sarah… she treated pregnancy like a military operation. She wanted a “buddy” to validate her neuroses. “Let’s work together! We can catch each other’s mistakes!” she’d said. As if getting pregnant was a group project. I checked the calendar. If the timeline held, I’d get a positive test in three days. My phone pinged. Sarah: “I know you don’t want to plan with me, but I need your advice.” “If I get pregnant now, the baby will be a Leo. That clashes with my sign. Should I keep it or not?” In my past life, I was the supportive friend. “Don’t be silly,” I told her. “So many people struggle with infertility. If you’re lucky enough to conceive naturally, it’s a blessing. Don’t throw it away over a horoscope.” I thought I was saving a life. Instead, I doomed my own daughter. I clenched my fists, remembering the cold weight of my baby’s body in my arms. This time? I wasn’t playing savior. I typed back: “I really don’t know. You should ask your husband.” Then I added: “Or ask your mother-in-law. Older people know more about this stuff.” Her mother-in-law, Linda, was a piece of work. Linda didn’t just hate that Sarah had a girl. She hated the baby’s zodiac sign. “Leos are too dominant for girls,” Linda had sneered. “They bring drama. Bad for the family harmony.” It was superstitious garbage. But it was garbage that eventually led to murder. Sarah’s in-laws were rich. They owned a chain of hotels. Her husband, Mike, was a spineless mama’s boy who worked for the family business. Sarah always felt inferior to them. In the past, I defended her. “Who cares about signs? It’s 2024! Don’t let them brainwash you!” Sarah repeated my words to Linda. And when the baby died, Linda blamed me. “If that friend of yours hadn’t pushed her to keep it, none of this would have happened. She knew it was bad luck. She probably wanted to sabotage us.” I wasn’t taking the fall this time. I sent the text. “Ask Linda. She’s the expert.” 3 Sarah replied instantly with a crying emoji. “I’m screwed. Before the wedding, Linda told us not to try this year.” “She hates Leos. She wants us to wait for a Virgo or Libra. She says Virgos are meticulous and good for the family business.” It was laughable. As if the baby’s birth month determined the stock market. I kept my tone cool. “Wait, are you already pregnant? If not, why worry? Just use protection like they said.” A long pause. Then: “Don’t tell anyone… but my period is four days late. I’m scared to take a test.” I sneered at the screen. She knew. She already suspected she was pregnant. She just wanted someone else to make the decision for her. She wanted a scapegoat. She sent a barrage of messages about her anxiety, her fear, her helplessness. I left them on read. Two hours later, she posted on social media: “Just realized there is no true empathy in this world. From now on, I only rely on myself.” Classic Sarah. Always the victim. I scrolled past without liking it. 4 Three days later, my test was positive. I went to the hospital for blood work to confirm. And there, in the waiting room, was Sarah. “You too?” she asked, sliding into the seat next to me. Just like before, our levels were perfectly normal. Sarah immediately started complaining about the doctor. “That lady was so rude. The first thing she asked was, ‘Do you want to keep it?’” “I started crying right there. I don’t know if I can keep it! Why did she have to ask that?” “It’s a standard medical question, Sarah,” I said flatly. “She asked me too.” “Well, are you keeping it?” Sarah’s eyes widened. “Yes. We planned for this.” “Must be nice,” she grumbled. “Mine was an accident. It’s so annoying.” She snatched my lab report from my hand, staring at the date of my last period. She mumbled, calculating furiously on her fingers. “You conceived during a Waning Gibbous moon. That baby is going to have low energy.” I snatched the paper back. “I don’t believe in that crap.” Sarah stared at me, then smirked. “Want to know a secret?” “What?” “I checked the Chinese Gender Chart. Based on your age and conception month… you’re having a girl.” She sighed. “Mine is a girl too.” I relaxed. I wanted a girl. I wanted my girl back. Sarah looked miserable. “A girl, and a Leo. Linda is going to lose her mind.” I stayed silent. “Does your mother-in-law care?” she probed. “My mother-in-law is a Leo,” I lied smoothly. “She loves them. She’s hoping for a granddaughter.” Sarah’s eyes flashed with jealousy. “You have it so easy. If I keep this baby, my life will be hell.” “The doctor said I have to decide fast. The bigger it gets, the harder the procedure is on my body.” I nodded indifferently. “Mmh.” Suddenly, Sarah grabbed my hand. Her grip was tight, desperate. “But I’m twenty-eight!” I stared at her. “And?” “Twenty-eight is the peak physiological age for women! I don’t want to waste a ‘perfect’ egg!” Perfect egg? “Who told you that?” I pulled my hand away. “Medical consensus says anywhere from 25 to 34 is ideal.” Sarah shook her head pityingly. “You don’t get it. Ancient texts say a woman’s body changes every seven years. Four times seven is twenty-eight. That’s when the body is at its absolute zenith. ‘Bones are hard, hair is long, body is strong.’” She looked at the ceiling, dreamy. “This is my golden window.” I was speechless. In my last life, I fought her battles for her. I had no idea she was this deep in the cult of pseudoscience. She clenched her fist. “No. I have to find a way to keep this baby.” I almost laughed. I didn’t have to do a thing. Her own obsession was going to trap her.

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They say pearls are a merman’s token of eternal love. So I worked up the courage to ask my merman fiancé. “Can you give me one of your pearls?” He rejected me with icy arrogance, then turned around and carefully offered a pearl, born from his tears, to another girl. My heart finally turned to ash. As I packed my bags, determined to leave, a translucent stream of comments—like a Twitch chat—floated before my eyes. [Oh, so this is the plot point where the Male Lead goes crazy and imprisons our girl?] [Hehe, she ‘accidentally’ left a dress in his closet. During his heat cycle, he practically shredded it to ribbons.] [Run, girl! If he catches you, he’ll lock you up and make you cry until you lose your voice~] But when the moment came… The chat was shocked to discover that the one shedding pearls first… Was my arrogant merman fiancé. 1 Caspian locked himself in his room again. No matter how hard I knocked. The only response was endless silence. I had just tripped on the stairs, and in my panic, I accidentally grabbed his arm to steady myself. Caspian reacted like I burned him. He shoved me away. Then he stumbled up the stairs and slammed his door. By the time I snapped out of it, he was gone. A dull throb in my ankle told me I had sprained it. After waiting for who knows how long, Caspian’s muffled voice came through the crack in the door. “Get out.” It sounded like he was grinding his teeth, holding something back. I went silent. I turned and walked away without looking back. Fine. Be mean. But the next second, a line of text floated across my vision. [For a merman, he sure can hold it in. Is he impotent or something?] Impotent? I stopped. Is that a merman thing? Soon, more comments appeared. [Girl, cry a little! If you cry, he’ll panic so hard he won’t even have time to pull up his pants lol.] [Hehe, you guys are bad. But I support this with both hands and feet~] 2 I was skeptical. But my ankle really did look horrific. I’ve always been delicate; even a hangnail makes me whimper for half a day. —”Acting weak,” Caspian called it. To get his attention, I used to make up all sorts of lies. And Caspian always ruthlessly exposed them. I took a deep breath, composed myself, and knocked again. When I spoke, I nailed the choked-up, aggrieved tone perfectly. “Caspian, I think I twisted my ankle. It really hurts.” One second. Two seconds. Ten seconds. Still no reaction from inside. I was so embarrassed I wanted the floor to swallow me. I shouldn’t have expected anything. Caspian is the heir to the Merfolk clan, forced into an engagement with me—a human girl—because of an ancient curse. So he always treated me with disdain. No matter how hard I tried to please him. I pushed down the disappointment and limped back to my room. But five minutes later, just as I hobbled to my bed, my door banged open. Caspian stood there, looking furious. “Elena, are you done yet?” But the moment his eyes met my teary ones, he froze. He didn’t expect it. This time, I wasn’t lying. 3 Caspian was acting very weird tonight. He was clutching a tube of ointment, but he seemed terrified to step into my bedroom. He didn’t look like a noble merman. He looked like an awkward puppy. So the awkward puppy started scolding me. “Are you an idiot? Why didn’t you say something earlier if you were hurt?” “But it really hurts…” I lifted my foot slightly to prove I wasn’t lying. My ankle was swollen like a pig’s trotter. Caspian went silent. Finally, he entered my room, knelt on one knee on the carpet, and carefully applied the ointment. From this angle, I could clearly see the faint blue halo behind his ears. His fins. Caspian had never shown his merman form in front of me, even though I was dying of curiosity. [Touch his fins! He’ll definitely thank you for it.] Really? I was doubtful. But my hand moved on its own. Hmm, smooth. And a little cool. “Don’t touch me!” I flinched, shrinking back instinctively. Caspian looked up, glaring viciously. “Touch me again, and I’ll throw you into the ocean to feed the sharks!” I pouted and turned my head away, ignoring him. So mean. Caspian panted heavily, threw the ointment into my lap with trembling fingers, and stormed out again. 4 See? Caspian hates me. He hates me so much he can’t stand physical contact. I curled up, resting my chin on my knees, feeling utterly dejected. I completely ignored the chat scrolling above my head. [Ooh, look at the red rims of his eyes. One more touch and he would have exploded right there. Girl, check his room, I bet there’s a surprise.] [Forget it, forget it. A man with no mouth deserves no wife. Dump him!] [No wait! Give him another chance! I’m dying for the heat cycle arc. I heard mermen have cloacas~] [Hehe, waiting for the underwater scene and the loss of control. Feasting tonight!] Meanwhile. Caspian was submerged in a bathtub, clothes soaking wet and clinging to his perfect body. One hand gripped the edge of the tub, the other was underwater. The merman heat cycle was approaching. It was the time he needed a mate the most. But how could a fragile human girl handle a merman’s desire? Caspian’s ears were still burning red. Red enough to bleed. His fins still held the warmth and scent of the girl’s touch. Caspian gripped the porcelain tight. Her image filled his mind. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he thought: Touching my fins isn’t enough. If only she could just kill me and get it over with.

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In my wildest year, I played the part of a fallen angel and became the trophy girlfriend of Sebastian Thorne, a powerful Wall Street tycoon. To the public, he was cold and distant. In private, he was possessive and insatiable, demanding affection anywhere, anytime. I enjoyed the thrill for three months, then got bored. Just as I was about to break it off, I overheard someone warning him: “Take it easy with Sienna. Don’t knock her up. These girls who believe in ‘true love’ are the hardest to get rid of.” Sebastian’s tone was flat: “Money solves everything.” “But the girl is obsessed with me right now. Very clingy. No rush.” Clingy? Me? But last time he was drunk, crying and begging me never to leave him… I accidentally recorded that. 1 When I woke up, Sebastian was gone. He had a cross-border conference call and had disappeared into his study before dawn. I sat in front of the vanity mirror. Looking at my reflection—haggard, like a succubus drained of her essence by a male demon. I let out a heavy sigh. I couldn’t live this life of being “too well-fed” for another day. Finally, I mustered the courage to go to his study and break up. But outside the door, I heard Sebastian’s business partner, Liam, gossiping. “Seb, that pink diamond you dropped 20 million on at the auction… don’t tell me it’s for Sienna?” I looked down at my ring finger, where the diamond sparkled with fire. It was the ring Sebastian coaxed me into wearing during one of our intense nights. “It’s just 20 million. Don’t make a fuss.” Hearing this, Liam paused, then exclaimed in disbelief: “No way, you actually gave it to her? Can a broke girl like her even tell the difference?” Then his tone shifted, serious: “Seb, as a brother, let me remind you. Someone from the bottom like Sienna isn’t right for you.” “I know.” Liam sighed in relief: “Good, as long as you know. But take it easy with her. Don’t knock her up. These girls who believe in ‘true love’ are the hardest to get rid of.” I laughed out of anger. In one minute, he spent fifty-nine seconds insulting me. The last second was spent finding the words. But the next moment. I heard Sebastian hum lightly, replying indifferently: “Money solves everything.” “But the girl is obsessed with me right now. Very clingy. No rush.” Huh? Clingy? Me? But last time I was filming a TikTok dance. He barged in, reeking of alcohol. Crying and demanding I promise never to leave him. I accidentally recorded that. 2 While I was spacing out. My phone buzzed. It was a message from Sebastian: [Awake?] I immediately ran back to bed, lay down, and sent a “just woke up” selfie. He replied instantly: “Little temptress.” Before I could react, he video called me. As soon as I answered. A screen full of tanned chest muscles hit my eyes. I was immune to it by now, even pouting in disdain. Sebastian chuckled low: “Seducing me?” Bro, listen to your own voice, raspy as hell. Who is seducing whom? I put on a cold face: “Sebastian, let’s break up.” If I had any guilt before today… It vanished the moment I heard him trash-talking me with his friend. Silence on the other end for a second. “Which brand’s new collection do you want?” “I’m serious. Not joking.” “The new limited edition Hermès Birkin crocodile. It’s in the walk-in closet, third shelf from the left. Go get it.” I went silent. Liam should really see who the simp is here. Seeing me silent. Sebastian lit a cigar, staring at the camera for three seconds. Suddenly, he smiled, voice husky: “Baby, was I too rough last night? Did I hurt you?” Mentioning that. I suppressed the urge to curse and tried to reason with him. “We aren’t compatible.” “I think we fit perfectly.” He smirked, a meaningful look in his eyes. I started making things up. “You like dogs, I like cats. Your dog always bullies my cat.” “I like sleeping in; you like waking up early to work out.” “I love burgers and fries; you say kale smoothies are healthier.” “Incompatible means incompatible. Sebastian, let’s be adults. A peaceful breakup, okay?” I said it all in one breath. I didn’t notice the anger rising on his face. The next second. Bang! The bedroom door was shoved open. Sebastian stood there, radiating a chill. His gaze was cold as he said slowly: “Sienna, don’t forget. You’re the one who provoked me first.” 3 He was right. Between us, it was indeed my lust that started it. Three months ago, celebrating my best friend’s birthday at a club. I rushed out and forgot my contacts. I mistook VIP Room 188 for 168, pushed the door open, said hi to everyone, and sat down. Coincidentally, right next to Sebastian. He glanced at me from the corner of his eye but said nothing. Seeing no reaction from him, the others were confused but moved on. “Heard there’s a ‘femme fatale’ in the city. Plays the field hard. She’s dated every man with a name in town.” “Oh? Must be a stunning beauty then?” “Never seen her, but heard her methods are legendary. Hooks a pinky and men fall for her.” I raised an eyebrow. I hooked Sebastian’s pinky through the wine glass. He spoke suddenly: “Watch your boundaries.” Everyone went silent. I held back a laugh. He looked over again: “And you. Had enough fun watching?” My best friend always said I used my beauty like a weapon. Even without makeup, I looked like a ripe peach waiting to be picked. Skin like porcelain, waist so slim. Under the dim lights. I turned my head, revealing a pale collarbone, looking fragile and pale. A flash of amazement crossed his eyes. Just as a tear fell. I whimpered and threw myself into Sebastian’s arms. “Holy sh*t!” Everyone in the room gasped. The next second. I stood up with red eyes and ran out of the room. Two hours later. A room card with a phone number was delivered to my hand. It all happened so naturally. I hid my identity and became Sebastian’s trophy girlfriend. He spent money; I enjoyed it. It felt amazing. Amazing enough that I almost forgot. In the world of the ultra-rich, there is no true heart. 4 Sebastian started a one-sided cold war. But too many men were willing to die for me. His little tantrum didn’t even make a ripple in my pond. I acted normal. When in a good mood, I posted an afternoon tea pic on Instagram. Sebastian liked it instantly. But within three seconds, he’d unlike it. So petty. Seven days later, my visa for the trip expired. The day I left the city, the sky was clear. I had no luggage and told no one. When the maid asked, I said I was going shopping. The car drove onto the highway, passing a giant LED billboard. It was scrolling through news of Sebastian’s “scandal.” After our unhappy parting, he hadn’t returned to the penthouse. But my phone kept getting notifications about him. Old clichés about finding a new love. I found it childish. I opened my phone. The chat was still stuck on yesterday. [Tomorrow night, 8 PM. The Harbor. I have something to say.] The next second. A notification popped up. [Breaking! Massive marriage proposal setup at the Harbor! The man is Sebastian Thorne!] My heart skipped a beat. I quickly turned off my phone. Close call! Almost caught feelings.

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I went to pick up my brother from the airport but forgot my glasses. Squinting through the crowd, I accidentally hugged the wrong guy—and even kissed him on the cheek. It wasn’t until I looked up and met those dark, brooding eyes that I realized my mistake. It was my ex-boyfriend. “Kissing me while calling another man’s name? You’ve got some nerve.” 1 I was picking up my brother, Noah, from LAX, and like an idiot, I left my glasses at home. I stood at the arrivals gate, squinting at every blurry figure that walked out. Finally, a tall guy—about 6’2″—in a black windbreaker walked toward me. I got excited and ran over. I threw my arms around him and planted two big kisses on his cheek. “Noah! How did you get even taller?” Before I could pull away, a familiar voice called out from behind me. “Sis! Did… did you just kiss our team captain?” I froze. Slowly, I looked up. My ex-boyfriend’s dark, intense eyes stared straight into mine. “Kissing me while calling another man’s name? You’ve got some nerve, Mia.” 2 On the ride back, I was squeezed in the backseat between two men. Looking left and right, they were dressed almost identically. I pinched my brother’s arm hard. “I thought you hated matching outfits with people?” “Sis, you don’t get it. Matching with Captain Carter? That’s a blessing from the Esports gods.” I rolled my eyes. Noah looked back and forth between us, his eyes wide with gossip. “Sis, do you and Captain Carter know each other?” Instantly, we both spoke at the same time: “Ex-boyfriend.” “She’s my girlfriend.” Me: “?” Noah’s face: [Holy sht! The tea is hot!]* Suddenly, a hand landed on my waist, rubbing gently. “We didn’t break up. I’ve just been busy lately, haven’t had time for her, so she’s throwing a tantrum.” Tantrum? What tantrum? When his wandering hand started making me weak, I grabbed it and threw it aside. “Jax Carter, we broke up a month ago.” Jax actually laughed. He pulled me onto his lap, burying his face in my neck, his voice terrifyingly gentle. “Baby, if we broke up… can I chase you again?” I was furious. I told the driver to pull over and scrambled off him. “Break up means break up! Do you not understand English?” 3 I met Jax gaming. He was #1 in the region; I was dead last. I heard his voice in a random match and chased him until he was mine. Later, I found out he was a pro Esports player. No one around us knew we were dating. He gamed all night and slept all day. The one time we managed a date, he fell asleep in the movie theater. As his rank climbed—regionals, nationals, even worlds—his messages got shorter. Our conversations died. I tried to break up a million times. He wouldn’t even reply. Or he’d see my breakup text and smooth it over with a few sweet words, and I’d fall for it again. But this time, I was done. If this kept up, one of us was going to end up in a psych ward. 4 As soon as we got home, I bumped into a wall of muscle. My forehead throbbed. “Let me kiss it better. Does it hurt, baby?” Hearing that familiar voice, I snapped my head up. “Why are you in my house? Get out before I call the cops for trespassing!” Just as I was pushing him out, Noah ran over and stopped me. “Sis! The Captain is new to the city, he doesn’t have a place to stay. I told him he could crash with us for a bit.” I refused immediately. “No way. Our house is too small for his ego.” “How is it small? We have four bedrooms! Plus, this is Noah’s captain. If you kick him out, I’m going with him!” My mom walked out of the kitchen holding a tray of ribs. “Alright, that’s settled. Wash your hands, dinner’s ready.” Watching Jax walk toward the guest room, I stomped my foot in rage. 5 “Liv, I’m broken.” My best friend, Olivia, looked concerned. “What’s wrong?” “Jax… is living in my house.” “What?! He chased you all the way home? Is he trying to meet the in-laws?” “Stop!” I cut her off. “Don’t ship it. We really broke up this time.” “Really?” I nodded. “Really. Dating a ghost is exhausting.” “Exhausting? Girl, think about it! It’s Jax Carter! The Esports God! Half the girls in the country want him!” “Let them have him. I’m done.” Living day and night in reverse, never seeing each other… it was too unreal. Seeing me down, Olivia quickly changed the subject. “Forget him. Tonight, I’m taking you out. Put on something hot. The best way to get over a man is to get under a new one.” Remembering Jax was just a wall away at home, I didn’t want to go back anyway. I skipped dinner and left. 6 “These guys aren’t as handsome as Jax, but their… other stats are top tier.” Olivia tossed an iPad into my hands. “Pick anyone. My treat.” Looking at the young faces on the screen, I blushed. These hosts looked so young. I felt like a predator. I couldn’t choose. Olivia saw my hesitation, snatched the iPad back, scrolled to the very last page, and ordered. That guy… looked familiar? Before I could react, the waiter took the iPad away. “Don’t worry, I ordered the top guy in the club for you.” Olivia pouted. “Don’t waste my money, okay? He was expensive.” I was already a bit tipsy. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here yet? Hurry up, or I’m gonna fall asleep…” In a daze, I saw a stunningly handsome face. It looked just like my ex. “Are you the top guy?” “Top guy?” I nodded, pointing at Olivia. “Yeah! My bestie ordered you for me.” Seeing the man turn to leave, I grabbed him. “Don’t go!” He scoffed. “You want me to stay?” “Of course! You were expensive. I can’t let you leave.” Suddenly, I was swept off my feet and held in his arms. As he carried me away, I pointed back at Olivia passed out on the couch. “Can we take my friend?” Was it my imagination, or did his grip on my waist tighten? Just before I passed out, I heard a familiar voice whisper: “I only service one person. Someone else is picking her up.”

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Before leaving for my final mission, I asked Julian one last time: “Will you marry me?” He was silent for a moment. “Okay.” My heart—and the System in my head—dropped at the same time. “Crap.” I was supposed to be rejected one hundred times to return to my real world. Turns out, I panicked for nothing. On my last mission, a twist of fate made me the sacrificial lamb for his first love. Julian stayed by her side for three days before he even remembered me. By the time he asked, the news had already broken: Officer Chloe Hart, killed in the line of duty. 1 “Host, there’s really no rush.” “It’s your birthday. Nobody wants to be rejected on their birthday.” My heavy breathing echoed in the quiet hallway. I had just finished a three-month undercover assignment out of state. Dragging my exhausted body, I came straight to Julian Thorne’s penthouse. No other reason. I’ve been stuck in this world for seven years. I want to go home. The rules are simple: get rejected by Julian one hundred times, and I can return to reality. Just now, the System told me I only need one more rejection. Through the door, I heard Julian on the phone. The woman’s voice was on speaker, her sobbing soft and pitiful: “Julian, I know you’ve been with Chloe for three years. I shouldn’t be bothering you, but I just couldn’t help it…” Julian’s response was a long silence. The woman on the other end was Lydia Reed, Julian’s first love. The one who got away. Most of my successful rejections over the years were thanks to her. Julian changed the subject. “When are you coming back? I’ll throw a welcome party.” “In what capacity? As my ex?” “As an old friend.” Silence on the line. Then, a voice tinged with spite: “Ex-boyfriend, I’m getting married. The 20th of this month. You’re invited.” Julian seemed angry. He said her name, low and dangerous: “Lydia!” She hung up. The System cheered in my head: [Jackpot! Host, go in now! While he’s mad! Ask him to marry you!] Normally, I wouldn’t poke the bear when he’s in a mood. But the dead weight of seven years was suddenly lifted by the hope of going home. I pushed the door open urgently. The room was dark. Julian sat in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights glittering behind him like a sea of stars. The glow of his phone screen illuminated half his face. Sharp jawline, cold eyes. A face that could launch a thousand ships—or sink them. Seeing me, he locked his phone and leaned back, closing his eyes. His tone was unfriendly. “Why are you here?” See? A giant calendar on his desk, yet he didn’t even remember it was my birthday. My palms were sweating. “I have a mission tomorrow.” In the real world, I was a police academy graduate. So in this world, I chose to be a cop. No hesitation. Julian pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice icy. “So? Do you need something?” “Yeah. After this mission… will you marry me?” The System was already throwing a party in my brain: [AHHHH! Mission complete! I’m getting promoted! Yes! Yes! Yes!] Julian’s dark eyes reflected my shadow. His slight frown showed his annoyance. I took a deep breath, lowered my head, and waited for the magic word. Honestly, after liking him for so long, being rejected still stung a little. But the System promised me money. A lot of money. Spendable in the real world. “Okay.” “What?” The System’s cheering cut off abruptly. I looked up in shock, meeting Julian’s calm, almost indifferent gaze. He slowly turned his phone in his hand. “I said, okay.” A few seconds later, both the System and I cursed in unison. “F*ck…” 2 I hid in the bathroom. The accumulated frustration finally exploded. “Celebrating early? You must be Employee of the Month!” The System snapped back: [It’s your fault! Why did you remind him it was your birthday? Men and their cheap guilt!] My head was pounding. Overtime had drained every ounce of my energy. I slumped against the sink, weak. The System whispered tentatively: [Maybe ask him to sleep with you now? He might say no to that?] I sneered. “Why don’t I ask him to go die?” If only it were that easy. The game designers blocked every loophole from the start. “Sex,” “death,” and a whole list of trigger words are banned. And I can’t repeat a request. Rejection of marriage was one of the few cards I had left after seven years. We were at a dead end. The sound of water running filled the silence. I sat on the toilet lid, brainstorming my next move. Suddenly, my phone rang. Unknown number. I picked up. A gentle female voice spoke. “Miss Hart, this is Lydia.” I gripped the edge of the sink. Silence. Lydia chuckled softly, a hint of smugness in her tone. “You probably don’t know me well, but that’s okay. I know you very well.” “I’ve eaten the bento boxes you made for Julian. I’ve worn the white shirts you washed for him. Last time, when he left your birthday dinner to come see me, there was a strand of your hair caught in his tie clip.” I leaned back, voice cold. “So?” Lydia laughed. “Are you really stupid, or just pretending? Didn’t you hear? Last year on your birthday, I gave him my virginity. This year, I came back specifically on your birthday, and he forgot it entirely. Do I need to spell out who Julian really loves?” I stared at my face in the mirror. Seven years. Fine lines had appeared at the corners of my eyes. The eyes that used to light up whenever I saw Julian were now filled with numbness. I took a deep breath. “No need. Because Julian is going to marry me.” Silence on the other end. Then, Lydia’s voice turned sharp. “You don’t need to provoke me. You can’t compete with me.” Julian knocked on the door. I hid the phone behind my back and yanked the door open. I smiled softly. “Will you go with me to try on wedding dresses tomorrow?” Julian paused. Then he hugged me, his tone rare and indulgent. “Okay. On our wedding day, you will be the most beautiful bride.” I hung up the phone. And forced myself to accept Julian’s kiss, suppressing the nausea. Lydia, I hope you have some fight in you. Don’t disappoint me. 3 That night, I waited a long time. Lydia didn’t call Julian. Hot kisses landed all over my skin. Julian seemed unusually interested. But at the last moment, I stopped him. “I have a mission tomorrow. Let’s stop.” Julian looked unsatisfied. I pushed him away, turned my back, and wrapped myself tightly in the duvet. Julian was silent for a long time. Finally, he sighed. “Okay.” Water started running in the shower. The System voiced my worry: [Did you go too hard? Did Lydia give up?] “Unlikely.” Knowing Lydia, she wouldn’t give up on Julian even if she died. … The next day, the weather was gloomy. Julian didn’t leave early as usual. Instead, he sat at the dining table, eating breakfast with me. The only sounds were cutlery clinking against plates. Julian spoke. “After this mission, transfer to a desk job. If you marry me, you don’t need to work so hard.” The System commanded in my head: [Fried eggs! I want fried eggs!] I cut my ham, eyes lowered. “Okay.” Julian continued, like a CEO briefing a secretary: “From now on, I’ll be at the company on Wednesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays. I’ll be home the rest of the time. I don’t want you coming to the office.” System wailed: [No cheese! I want noodles!] I smiled sweetly. “Okay.” Julian frowned. I finished my milk, pushed back my chair, and stood up. “Chloe.” I turned. “What?” Julian stared at me. “You were never this obedient before. What’s wrong today?” Honestly? I didn’t hear a word he said. “Nothing.” I smiled. “Maybe because good things are coming.” Julian tugged at his tie. His thin, straight lips betrayed his annoyance. See? He’s a hundred percent reluctant to marry me. I curled my lips. “Hey, Julian. Can you wish for my safe return?” Julian snapped out of his thoughts. A moment later, he said, “Safe return.” “Thanks.” I turned and walked out. System: [Meh, boring. I thought he wouldn’t say it.] 4 I’ve been in this world for seven years. The city’s crime rate is actually quite low. Major incidents are rare. I didn’t expect to encounter one on my very last mission. A high-profile kidnapping. The kidnapper demanded 30 million dollars and a van to leave the city. When I arrived at the scene, it was drizzling. My colleague, Officer Miller—a young girl named Sarah—sat at the bottom of the stairs, eyes red. “Chloe, the negotiator is already in. The kidnapper wants to switch hostages.” “Switch hostages?” “Yeah… the current hostage is pregnant.” The team went silent. In this situation, if the kidnapper agrees to a switch, one of us has to go in. “So… who’s going?” Sarah bit her lip. “He demanded a woman.” There were only two female officers on the team: Sarah and me. Sarah’s husband was a detective who had just been injured in the line of duty and was still in the hospital. I unholstered my gun and handed it to Sarah. “I got it. I’ll go.” The System screamed in my head: [Host, this isn’t a game! If you die accidentally, you really can’t go back!] But I couldn’t let Sarah go. In seven years, Sarah had been with me far more than Julian ever was. We were best partners. Sarah hugged me, sobbing. “Chloe, I’m sorry. I know you’re getting married. I’m sorry, but Mike is still in the hospital…” “I know.” I patted her shoulder and walked into the rain. It was an abandoned factory on the outskirts of the city. Through the misty rain, I saw the woman in the kidnapper’s arms. Her pale face couldn’t hide her beauty. Long black hair plastered to her cheeks, big eyes full of pitiful tears. She protected her lower abdomen desperately. “Please, save me. I’m pregnant. I’m carrying the heir to the Thorne family…” My heart skipped a beat. System confirmed: [It’s Lydia.] We looked at each other through the rain. I couldn’t describe the feeling. The kidnapper, vicious and desperate, pressed a knife into her skin. Blood trickled down. “Get over here! Or I’ll send her to hell!” Lydia’s eyes widened in terror as she looked at me. “Chloe, please. I can’t die. Julian will go crazy. If he knows you didn’t save me, he’ll hate you forever…” So she knew who I was. I looked back at Sarah. Sighed. And walked toward the kidnapper. The moment the blade touched my neck, Lydia stumbled and ran toward the police line. Just me and the kidnapper left. “I want the car!” Before I got in, the Captain gave me a signal. The plan was simple: they track the van, I cooperate to take him down when the opportunity arises. I was tied up and thrown into the passenger seat. In the last second, I saw Julian break through the crowd. He caught the fainting Lydia in his arms.

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I received a call from a scammer and transferred $10 million to them without hesitation. When the police called to tell me I’d been scammed, I didn’t panic. But my “rich girl” roommate sure did. In my past life, on the first day of the semester, my roommate stole my Black Card and took the whole class to a high-end charity auction, engaging in a bidding war just to show off. She drained over a hundred million dollars from the card, freezing my family’s company assets and pushing us to the brink of bankruptcy. When I confronted her and demanded repayment, she threw herself into my boyfriend’s arms, sobbing. “Maya, you can’t just accuse me because your family is broke!” My boyfriend slapped me across the face and yelled, “Maya, you spent the money yourself! How dare you try to make Chloe take the fall? Have some shame!” When I went to the bank to get the transaction records as evidence, my roommate ran me over with her car. My boyfriend and the entire class testified that I was mentally unstable and had jumped in front of the car myself. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day my roommate offered to take the whole class to the auction. Chapter 1 “Hey everyone! Are you free tomorrow? I’m taking the whole class to the charity auction downtown. My treat. Put it all on my card!” Hearing Chloe’s voice, I shivered. I realized instantly that I had been reborn. Suddenly, Chloe linked her arm through mine. “Maya, I heard you have a VIP pass for that auction. Can I borrow it? That way we can all sit in a private box.” Chapter 2 Hearing those words, the phantom pain of being crushed to death flooded back. In my last life, Chloe used the excuse of borrowing my VIP pass to steal the Black Card my dad gave me. I didn’t realize until my dad called, furious, asking why I had drained over a hundred million dollars in one night, cutting off the company’s cash flow. When I confronted Chloe, she cried in my boyfriend’s arms. “Maya, you can’t just frame me because your family is going bankrupt!” My boyfriend, Tyler, slapped me hard. “Maya, have some shame! You spent that money yourself, and now you want Chloe to take the fall?” I went to the bank to get the statements. Chloe ran me over with her car, reversing over my body to make sure I was dead. My parents tried to get justice, but Tyler and the whole class testified for Chloe, claiming I was desperate for money and committed suicide by jumping in front of her car. Thinking of this, rage burned through me. I gripped my handbag tightly and said coldly, “I lost my pass. I can’t lend it to you.” Tyler snatched my bag from my hands, unzipped it, and dumped everything onto the floor. He picked up the gold VIP card lying on the ground and handed it to Chloe. “Here, Chloe. Use this.” Chloe hugged Tyler’s arm, her voice sugary sweet. “Tyler, you’re the best! Thank you so much.” Tyler beamed at her, then looked at me with disgust. “Maya, when did you become such a liar? You clearly had the card. Why didn’t you want to lend it?” I slapped Tyler across the face, then snatched the card back from Chloe. “Tyler, who gave you the right to touch my stuff?” Tyler’s eyes widened in shock. “Maya, are you crazy? Did you just hit me?” I slapped him again. “Yeah, I hit you. So what?” Chapter 3 Chloe immediately stepped in front of Tyler, looking like a martyr. “Maya, it’s all my fault. Blame me if you want, but don’t take it out on Tyler.” I looked at her coldly and slapped her too. “Don’t worry, I won’t leave you out. You two deserve each other. Stop acting like victims in front of me. It’s disgusting.” Tyler’s face turned red with anger. He shoved me hard, knocking me to the ground. My back hit a desk, and I gasped in pain. “Maya, you’ve crossed the line! How dare you hit Chloe!” I rubbed my back and glared at him. “Are you deaf? She asked for it. I was just obliging her.” The other classmates started chiming in. “Maya, that’s too much. You can’t just hit people for no reason.” Chloe was crying hysterically now. “I’m sorry, everyone. Don’t blame Maya. Tyler and I are innocent, he just treats me like a little sister…” Tyler hugged Chloe tightly, comforting her. “Chloe, you’re too kind. You’re being bullied, and you still blame yourself.” I watched them, my fingers trembling with rage. Tyler glared at me. “Maya, drop the spoiled princess act. This is college, not your house. No one is going to pamper you. Give the card to Chloe right now and apologize, or we’re done. I can’t have a girlfriend who acts like a barbarian.” Chapter 4 I laughed out loud. “Fine. We’re done. Go be happy with your precious ‘little sister.’” Chloe looked at me with big, teary eyes. “Maya, don’t be impulsive! You and Tyler have been together for three years. You can’t just break up like this. I’d feel so guilty.” Hearing this made me even angrier at myself for being blind enough to love scum like Tyler for three years. Suddenly, Chloe grabbed my arm. “Maya, how about this? Lend me the VIP card. All the points from our purchases will go to your account. That way you can upgrade your membership status.” Tyler looked at Chloe with admiration. “Chloe, you are literally an angel. She bullies you, and you still look out for her.” Then he turned to me, impatient. “Maya, Chloe is being incredibly generous. Don’t be ungrateful.” I sneered. “No thanks. I can’t afford your ‘kindness.’” A flash of malice crossed Chloe’s eyes, but she hid it quickly. “Maya, I really want to use this chance to bond with the class. If you lend me the card, I’ll buy you two items from the auction. Anything you want. Consider it a rental fee.” The classmates gasped. “Maya, take the deal! Auction items start at like ten grand. Chloe is giving you two for free! You’re making a killing!” “Plus you get the points! It’s a win-win. Why are you refusing?” Tyler mocked me. “Maya, you’re just greedy, aren’t you? Only Chloe is nice enough to tolerate you. Take the offer before she changes her mind.” Chapter 5 I rolled my eyes. “Do you guys not understand English? I said no. I don’t want to lend my card.” Chloe’s expression darkened. The next second, she wiped her tears and turned to the class, looking devastated. “I’m so sorry, everyone. I wanted to take you all to the auction to bond, but Maya is unhappy about it. I guess we can’t go. I shouldn’t have promised anything.” She burst into tears and collapsed into Tyler’s arms. Tyler looked at me with pure hatred. He slapped me across the face, then kicked me in the stomach. I curled up on the floor, gasping for air. “Maya, you did this on purpose! You just can’t stand seeing Chloe do well! You think you’re so special because your family has money, walking around in designer clothes. Now that you know Chloe is rich enough to treat the whole class, you’re jealous!” A classmate grabbed a water bottle and threw it at my head. “Maya, have some shame! We finally had a chance to see the high life, and you ruined it!” “Just because you carry last season’s Chanel bag, you think you’re better than us?” Chapter 6 “You’re so ‘rich,’ but you only ever bought us Starbucks. Do you think we’re beggars?” She splashed her leftover soda on my face. Others followed suit, dumping their drinks on me. In an instant, I was soaked and humiliated. I struggled to my feet, grabbed a chair, and smashed it on the floor. Everyone jumped back, cursing at me. “Maya, are you crazy?” I ignored the pain and pulled out my phone, dialing 911. “Yes, I’d like to report an assault. A group attack. The address is…” Hearing me call the police, Tyler rushed over and smashed my phone on the ground. “Maya, are you sick? You actually called the cops?” I glared at him. “You dared to hit me. Why wouldn’t I call the cops?” Tyler raised his hand to hit me again. I looked him dead in the eye. “Touch me one more time. Every hit is just more evidence.” The police arrived in ten minutes. The professor ran in behind them. The police saw it as a minor dispute since I wasn’t seriously injured and suggested a settlement. The professor glared at me, warning me not to make a scene. I demanded $1,000 from each person involved for emotional distress. The police agreed. The class started cursing me out. The officer looked at them coldly. “Settle privately, or go to court and get a criminal record. Your choice.” They all shut up and reluctantly transferred the money. $1,000 was half a month’s living expenses for most of them. It hurt them. After the police left, I picked up my stuff. My bank cards were still there. I sighed in relief, went back to the dorm to change, and called the professor to move off-campus. As I was packing to go home, I noticed my bag had been rifled through again. But nothing seemed to be missing.

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The year I was eight, I was held captive and tormented for three days to save young Garrett Sinclair. The trauma left me with severe prosopagnosia—face blindness. He had tied the blue silk cord I gave him around his wrist, his eyes red-rimmed as he promised: “Sloane, I’ll wear this forever. That way, no matter where I go, you’ll always be able to find me.” For over a decade, that flash of blue had been the only steady light in my dark, visually confusing world. Until the night before our wedding, when I overheard him talking to his friends. “Garrett, you really pulled out all the stops to get close to Willow. I mean, what about Sloane Kingsley? If she ever figures out the person she’s been sleeping with isn’t you, but her adopted brother… she’ll lose it, man.” Garrett swirled the glass in his hand, his voice a casual, effortless dismissal. “She only recognizes the blue cord. She’ll never notice.” “To be the blissfully ignorant Mrs. Sinclair for life? That’s her good fortune.” 1 I froze. Every muscle went cold. Willow Blackwood was my most trusted friend. Devon, my adopted brother, was the only family member who had painstakingly raised me, treating me like the most precious thing in the world. Garrett was the single star in my pitch-black universe. Yet, I had been living inside their perfect lie all along, unable to even recognize the face of the man in my own bed. His friend spoke again, a note of sympathy in his voice. “It’s a shame you and Willow are soulmates, but you’re stuck by this debt of gratitude. Gotta keep the affair underground.” “Thank God Devon Kingsley is covering for you. It’s the only way you can be with Willow while she gets through her pregnancy.” Willow… was pregnant? The pain already constricting my heart was brutally sliced open again. Someone else chimed in, curious. “So, G, you’re really going through with marrying Sloane?” Garrett frowned. “It’s just a name, a gesture to settle a debt. The heir to the Sinclair fortune will only ever be Willow’s child. Don’t get the wrong idea.” “As for Sloane, I’ll make damn sure she never gets pregnant with my child.” I was trembling, the ultrasound photo crumpled in my white-knuckled hand, my mind a blank void. Two months ago, Garrett had promised to be there for my birthday, but he was late. I was blowing out the candles alone when he finally wrapped his arms around me from behind. He presented me with a massive bouquet of ‘Shattered Ice Blue’ roses, his voice low and husky as he apologized for the delay, claiming he’d been collecting the rare flowers. That night, he’d been drunk, and we were intimate until morning. My nerves and frantic inexperience had made me overlook a crucial detail: Garrett was severely allergic to pollen. Now, the truth was blinding. He never could have sent those flowers. After that ‘accident,’ I hadn’t been able to keep food down. I’d gone to the doctor today, only to learn I was pregnant. My heart was bursting with shy happiness, and I’d rushed here, desperate to tell him the surprise. Instead, I had stumbled onto this visceral, gut-wrenching truth. So, this child… I didn’t dare finish the thought, a shiver running through me. What kind of monsters had I been living with, day in and day out? I stuffed the prenatal scan back into my purse, unable to listen anymore, and turned to walk away.

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