Author: Momo Chan

An old woman named Margaret Miller fell on the side of the road, and no one dared to help her. Without hesitation, I walked over and took her to the hospital. At that moment, I felt I wasn’t just helping her up, but humanity itself. But at the hospital, she accused me of knocking her down. She argued self-righteously: “If you didn’t knock me down, why would you take me to the hospital? I’m not your mother.” Later, I took her to court. Even later, when she fell in front of me again, I didn’t lift a finger. 1 I was driving home from work when a large crowd blocked the middle of the road, stopping me in my tracks. I got out and walked closer, hearing hushed discussions. “An old lady fell in the middle of the road. Don’t help her! Check your bank account balance before you even think about it!” “I want to help, but there are no cameras around. No way. I’ll just call 911 for her.” “Sigh, if you call 911, the old lady might kick the bucket before they get here. Then her family will ask you why you called if you had nothing to do with it. How will you answer? Doing a good deed just gets you in trouble.” I noticed a filming crew to the right, probably TikTokers or YouTubers. A pretty girl with a lapel mic was speaking: “An old grandma falls on the roadside, and no one helps. Is this a distortion of humanity or a loss of morality…” In recent years, incidents of elderly people falling and being ignored have become common. Ever since that kind-hearted college student helped a fallen senior only to be extorted, everyone’s hearts have turned cold. I’ve asked myself: If I encountered such a thing, would I help or not? The answer was definitely yes. I don’t believe every old person is a scheming villain. I believe good deeds are rewarded. After a brief thought, I pushed through the crowd of onlookers and walked up to the old woman. She was convulsing, her face purple, her hand clenched tightly over her heart. Her cloudy eyes looked at me pleadingly. Then, she fainted. I bent down to pick her up, but a dark-faced middle-aged man stopped me: “Sister, think this through. You look like you have a family. If this old lady blackmails you…” I knew what he was going to say, but I picked her up anyway. At this moment, I wasn’t lifting an old woman, but fallen humanity! 2 I took the old woman to the hospital and paid for her medical bills upfront. She was wheeled into the operating room for surgery. The doctor took off his mask: “It’s rare to see a daughter-in-law like you. I’ve worked in this hospital for years, and most daughters-in-law hide far away when their mother-in-law gets sick.” I smiled awkwardly: “I’m not her daughter-in-law. We’re not related. I just saw her fall on the road and brought her here.” The doctor looked at me with respect: “Then you’re truly amazing. But, miss, did you notice any cameras when you helped her?” I laughed: “Hey, who looks for cameras when saving a life? I just wanted a clear conscience.” The doctor gave me a thumbs up. My phone rang, and I walked to the side. It was my husband, Steve. Picking up, he immediately bombarded me: “Heather, what time is it? Why aren’t you back yet? Do you know how worried I was?” I used to think my husband called because he cared. But later I learned he was just waiting for me to come back to do laundry, cook, and take care of the kid… From working at the office to working at home. He was a pure egoist, and my life with him was a mess. Irritation rose in my chest: “I’m at the hospital.” Steve sounded nervous: “You’re sick? Is it serious?” He was probably calculating if spending our savings on my treatment was worth it. I didn’t want to argue: “I’m not sick. I brought a fallen elderly woman to the hospital.” Steve’s voice suddenly turned shrill: “Heather, old people fall every day. Are you the only capable one to take her to the hospital?” “Why don’t I see you caring about family matters? I have an open class tomorrow, and my suit isn’t washed.” I retorted: “Why don’t you wash it yourself? And what’s wrong with me helping an old lady?” I hung up. 3 There was an old flip phone in the woman’s pocket, unlocked. I scrolled through the contacts and called the number named “Hubby.” It rang for a long time. Just as I was about to hang up, someone answered. Through the phone, I heard the shuffling of mahjong tiles. The voice sounded extremely impatient: “Old hag, I’m playing mahjong, don’t bother me.” I imagined a smoky, chaotic room and suppressed my disgust: “Hello, your wife fell and is in the hospital now.” “Fell? Not dead, is she?” It seemed her husband didn’t care about her at all. He cursed foully on the other end; he must have lost a hand. I wanted to hang up, but he asked: “Who are you?” I held back the urge to call him a scumbag: “I saw your wife fall on the road and brought her to the hospital.” He immediately said: “Stay at the hospital. Don’t leave. I’ll be right there.” “Don’t leave”—those words gave me a bad feeling. My phone buzzed. My husband texted: Come back and cook, I’m starving. I didn’t reply. Half a minute later, he called again. I didn’t answer and blocked his number. Not long after, a disheveled old man with sanpaku eyes arrived. He walked straight up to me and grabbed my collar: “You knocked down my wife. How do you plan to compensate us?” 4 He reeked of stale smoke. Instead of checking on his unconscious wife, he demanded compensation first. I pushed his hand away and pointed at the hallway camera: “There’s surveillance here. If you touch me again, believe it or not, I’ll call the cops and have you arrested.” The old man looked timid but bluffed loudly: “I don’t care! You knocked down my wife, you must pay!” I asked: “With which eye did you see me knock her down?” He pointed at my nose and cursed: “If you didn’t knock her down, would you be so kind as to bring her to the hospital? Or are you her long-lost daughter?” I was stunned by his words. He continued roaring: “Besides paying all my wife’s medical bills, you have to pay for emotional distress, lost wages… let me calculate, fifty thousand dollars in total!” Impressive that he knew legal terms like emotional distress and lost wages. He really put effort into extortion. I asked: “What if I don’t pay?” He stiffened his neck: “If you don’t pay, I’ll call the police. The law will back us up!” The doctor who operated on the old lady passed by and couldn’t stand it anymore. He handed his phone to the old man: “Sir, call the police right now.” The old man visibly shrank back, muttering curses. He walked aside to make a call. If he won’t call the police, I will. I dialed 911. The police hadn’t arrived yet, but the old woman’s son did. He wore a fading gold chain and had tattoos on his arms, his face full of flesh. Seeing me, he snorted and looked me up and down: “You’re the one who hit my mom? My dad said fifty grand. I scolded him.” I thought, Can’t judge a book by its cover. He looks fierce but seems reasonable. Unexpectedly, his next words made me lose it.

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After the department dinner, Helen from HR dropped a payment request in the group chat. [Last night’s dinner came out to $850. Please send me $45 each.] Then, she specifically tagged me. [@Laura, that includes you, don’t forget!] I thought she’d made a mistake. After all, I hadn’t even been there. I sent a polite reminder, but Helen completely lost it. [We booked your spot. You think you don’t have to pay just because you didn’t show up?] [If you don’t pay up, your colleagues will have to cover your share!] I quietly posted the real receipt from their dinner at my family’s restaurant. “After the discount, the total was two hundred and fifty dollars. Helen, are you trying to rip everyone off?” 1 I wasn’t feeling well, so I skipped the department dinner last night. The moment I got to the office this morning, I saw the message from Helen in the group chat. [Last night’s dinner came out to $850. Please send me $45 each.] Helen was in charge of HR for our department, and rumor had it her husband was a company shareholder. Naturally, no one dared to cross her. The payment notifications started popping up one by one. I figured it had nothing to do with me and was about to put my phone away when it buzzed again. Helen had tagged me. [@Laura, you too, don’t forget!] ? I wasn’t even there. Thinking she’d simply forgotten, I replied in the chat to gently remind her. I never expected her to explode. She launched into a full-blown tirade right there in the group chat. [What’s that supposed to mean?] [The dinner was priced per head. I booked everything in advance.] [It’s your problem that you didn’t show up, but that doesn’t mean you’re exempt from paying!] [Are you really so broke you’d try to skip out on forty-five bucks?] 2 Helen’s words were utterly merciless. My face flushed hot with embarrassment. I had messaged her privately yesterday to explain I couldn’t make it. She’d told me it was no problem, that the restaurant charged by the dish, not per person. What changed overnight? A colleague sitting next to me leaned over and whispered, “Laura, you’re new to this department. You really don’t want to get on Helen’s bad side.” But this wasn’t my fault. And more than that, what she said was just plain nasty. I took a screenshot of our conversation from the day before and posted it in the group. I tagged her directly. [Helen, yesterday you said it was fine. Why the change of heart today?] [If you had told me upfront, I would have just paid it.] [Are you that hard up for my forty-five bucks?] The moment the message went out, I could hear a collective gasp ripple through the open-plan office. Several people gave me subtle thumbs-ups. Honestly, I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, but she started it. And I was holding back my harsher thoughts. I’d seen a video from the dinner last night—a few simple, family-style dishes on the table, not even a single bottle of wine. How on earth did that cost over eight hundred dollars? The chat went silent. I ignored it, tossed my phone aside, and focused on my work. I wasn’t worried about getting fired for pissing her off. I expected Helen to stomp over to my desk any minute. But it wasn’t until the lunch break that she finally appeared, stilettos clicking, designer bag swinging, her face a mask of fury. “Who do you think you are?” she hissed. “When did I ever say you didn’t have to pay? Who knows if that screenshot is Photoshopped? And even if I did say it, it was only because I felt sorry for the new girl! Now the entire department has paid except for you. What makes you so special? You think you’re better than everyone else?” 3 Looking at her perfectly made-up face and designer outfit, I realized something. No wonder it was so quiet this morning. She hadn’t even been in the office yet. Her outburst startled everyone from their lunch break. They saw who it was and immediately went back to staring at their screens, fuming but silent. A few shot me resentful glances. Seeing that I wasn’t responding, Helen assumed I was scared. She planted her hands on her hips, looming over me. “Pay me the dinner fee right now, and then you will apologize to me in front of the entire department! Otherwise, I’ll make sure your life in this office is a living hell!” It was a blatant threat. A fresh-faced rookie might have buckled immediately. But I wasn’t a rookie. I’d been with this company for ten years. Most of my old colleagues had either been laid off or transferred. As a long-term employee with a permanent contract and a documented workplace injury on my record, I was practically untouchable. The company couldn’t fire me without a massive headache. I wasn’t scared at all. In fact, the thought of what was coming thrilled me. “Fine, I’ll pay,” I said. A smirk spread across Helen’s face. “That’s more like it—” I cut her off. “On one condition. You have to admit, right here and now, that you can’t survive without my forty-five dollars. The second you say it, I’ll transfer the money. Deal?” The smirk on Helen’s face froze. When she finally processed what I’d said, she slammed her hand on my desk. “Laura! How dare you mock me?!” Her voice was so shrill it almost cracked. She was genuinely furious now. Then, a cunning look crossed her face as an idea seemed to strike her. She calmed down and turned to address the rest of the office. “Since Laura refuses to pay for the dinner, her share will be split among the rest of you.” “Everyone, please send me an extra ten dollars.” 4 My face hardened. She was clearly trying to strong-arm me into paying. Ten dollars wasn’t much, but I knew it would make my colleagues resent me. Over time, that resentment would turn into isolation and ostracism. But if I gave in this time, there would be a next time, and a time after that. Working my butt off for peanuts was hard enough; was I supposed to use my own salary to line the pockets of some power-tripping manager? I couldn’t swallow this insult. I sent a direct message to the top boss. [Mr. Roberts, I have a question. Is it company policy to charge employees for department events they didn’t attend?] [When was this rule implemented?] He didn’t reply, probably in a meeting. But my colleagues couldn’t hold back any longer. Murmurs of complaint filled the air. “Why should we have to? It’s not our fault she didn’t pay.” “Exactly! What are we, her personal piggy bank?” Even the colleague who had warned me earlier physically shifted her chair away from me. Seeing that her plan had worked, Helen shot me a smug, satisfied look. It was a look that said, You’re way out of your league, kid. Then she gave me her ultimatum: transfer the money by the end of the day. This time, I said nothing. But something about all this felt very wrong. Later that afternoon, still fuming, I went to the fire stairwell to cool off. Just as I was about to leave, I heard the sound of high heels approaching. On a whim, I ducked around the corner of the landing. It was Helen. She stopped just out of sight, talking on her phone, her voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “Just you wait. She’ll be packing her bags within a month!” 5 Her conversation continued. “Report me? Who’d dare? Those idiots would rather lick my boots!” “And that restaurant last night was a great find. Cheap and good. The whole thing was just over a thousand bucks.” She hung up, then scoffed into the empty air, her voice full of contempt. “Trying to fight me? She really needs to take a look in the mirror.” I stayed hidden in the corner until long after she had left. So, this was never about the forty-five dollars. It was about forcing me to quit. That settled it. There was no way I was letting this go. Her last comment sparked an idea. If she wanted to turn my colleagues against me, let’s see who was better at playing that game. I refused to believe everyone in this office was born without a spine. Back at my desk, I pulled up the video of the dinner again, trying to spot the restaurant’s name. I went through it frame by frame. Whether by design or chance, there were no logos or signs visible. Just as I was about to give up, my eyes landed on the dinnerware. Wait a second. Those plates… why did they look so familiar? They looked just like… I quickly opened my photo album and found the design for the custom plates I’d ordered for my parents’ restaurant. It was a perfect match. So, the restaurant where they had their dinner… was mine? 6 I immediately called my mom to confirm. “Oh, right! A group of about a dozen people came in yesterday, said it was a company dinner.” “Their boss was so cheap! So many people, and they only ordered the least expensive dishes. Then she insisted on a twenty percent discount before she’d pay. The total only came to two hundred and fifty dollars! And they packed up every last scrap of leftover food!” “Oh, and she called today asking me to issue a fake receipt for eight hundred and fifty. Your father told her to get lost.” I breathed a sigh of relief. Good for Dad. Just to be sure, I had my mom pull the restaurant’s security footage. It was them, my colleagues, without a doubt. I told my mom what had happened today. She was furious and immediately sent me a copy of the itemized bill from last night. “You go get ’em, sweetheart! Don’t you worry! If things go south, you can always come home. Mom and Dad will take care of you!” Her words warmed my heart, but quitting was out of the question. This was now a battle between me and Helen. As the workday was ending, she popped up in the group chat again. This time, she posted a picture of an invoice and tagged me. [@Laura, here’s the restaurant invoice, just so you can’t claim I overcharged you.] [But if you can really live with yourself while your colleagues cover for you, then be my guest!] 7 The moment her message appeared, every eye in the office turned to me. Some were curious, some were angry, some were contemptuous. Then, she added one more line. [And don’t even think about running to Mr. Roberts. He has no time for employees who refuse to be team players!] It all clicked. That’s why I never got a reply to my message at noon. But I was more curious about something else. Who was Helen on the phone with in the stairwell? Who wanted me gone badly enough to resort to these tactics? There were only a few possibilities. I shook the thought from my head as my colleagues started complaining again. “Laura, your fight with Helen is your business. Can you please not drag the rest of us into it?” “Yeah, you can tell she wasn’t from our department originally. She’s clearly not one of us.” “Don’t be so selfish. We’re not obligated to pay your share.” This time, I didn’t say a word. Instead, I opened the main company group chat. The one with all several hundred employees. I forwarded every single message from Helen, along with a picture of the real, itemized bill from the restaurant, and a picture of her forged invoice. Then I tagged all the senior managers. [To management: I’d like to ask if you are aware that a member of our HR department is using team dinners to skim money off the top and is also creating fraudulent invoices?]

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Everyone knows crying out loud at a British funeral is disrespectful, but I let my husband’s adopted sister wail anyway. Why? Because in my past life, my husband had a distant relative who was a British noble. When he passed away, the lawyer said my husband could inherit his fortune and invited him to the funeral. His adopted sister, Chloe, insisted on tagging along to “see the world.” But really, she wanted to curry favor with the aristocrats and show off. Her plan? Cry her eyes out at the funeral to attract attention. I tried to stop her: “British nobles hate dramatic scenes at funerals. Forget the inheritance—we’ll probably get kicked out!” Chloe cried, accusing me of looking down on her and thinking she wasn’t good enough to mingle with nobility. She ran out of the venue and got caught in a riot, where she was accidentally shot and killed. I thought my husband would be devastated. Instead, he silently attended the funeral and inherited the fortune. Six months later, on our anniversary, he took me to a snowy mountain for a photoshoot. The moment we got up there, he stuffed me into a sleeping bag and tied it shut. “If you hadn’t made a big deal out of nothing, Chloe wouldn’t have run out and gotten killed.” I was buried alive in the snow, freezing to death while my husband used the inheritance to become a CEO. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day Chloe insisted on crying at the funeral. 1 “Sis, why won’t you let me cry?” “The Duke had no children. What’s wrong with me shedding a few tears for him?” Sitting in the car on the way to the funeral, hearing Chloe’s familiar whining, I realized with a jolt that I had been reborn. Chloe’s eyes were red. She hadn’t even started her performance for the Duke yet, but she was already playing the victim with me. My mother-in-law hugged her, shooting me a glare. “A noble’s funeral is full of important people! What’s wrong with a little crying?” “Maybe someone will see her kind heart and a rich suitor will come knocking!” Seeing she had backup, Chloe stopped hiding her intentions. She checked her eyeshadow in the mirror. “I’ve been practicing my makeup for a month. Today, I’ll look so pitiful and beautiful when I cry!” “Sis is just jealous because I’m young and pretty. She’s afraid I’ll outshine her in front of the nobles!” Yeah, Chloe had been preparing for this day for a long time. She spent a fortune at top beauty salons and even took acting classes to learn how to cry beautifully. I sneered, my eyes full of mockery. “You’re going to a funeral, not a speed dating event!” “Dressed like that? Are you afraid people won’t realize you’re fishing for a man?” Chloe looked like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. She started sobbing. “I researched the Duke’s life! I hired a writer for my eulogy and memorized it!” “Is it so bad to let the Duke know he has family from abroad who cares? You just look down on me!” My husband, Ryan, chimed in impatiently. “Nancy, what is wrong with you! It’s not enough to cause trouble at home, you have to embarrass us abroad too?” “Chloe put so much effort into this. Maybe she’ll make us look good! And you? What do you do besides pick fights?” Ryan had always been like this. He spoiled his adopted sister and always assumed I was bullying her. No matter how ridiculous Chloe acted, he never disciplined her. Instead, he forced me to cater to her. In my past life, I emphasized that wailing at a British noble’s funeral was highly disrespectful. My father-in-law needed money for surgery. The inheritance was our only hope. If we disturbed the peace of the deceased and annoyed the guests, forget the money—we’d be thrown out! But Chloe was stubborn. She insisted on crying. When I couldn’t persuade her, I physically covered her mouth to stop her. Chloe was furious. She ran out crying and was killed in a riot. Ryan got the inheritance, but he blamed me for Chloe’s death and pushed me off a snowy mountain! This time, I was going to watch Chloe dig her own grave. She could cry all she wanted. If Ryan didn’t get the inheritance today, his father wouldn’t have money for surgery. Then they’d really have a funeral to cry at! 2 After we entered, a server noticed we were foreigners and explained the funeral procedures, adding a reminder: “According to British aristocratic custom, loud crying is not permitted at the funeral…” As soon as the server left, Chloe raised an eyebrow. “Hmph, she’s just jealous because I’m prettier than her. She’s afraid her master will like me!” My mother-in-law nodded eagerly. “Those women serving nobles… they’re all scheming!” I couldn’t help but laugh. Chloe was way too confident. Did she really think she was beautiful enough to make every woman in the world jealous? Seeing me laugh, she seemed to realize something. “You were chatting so happily with that server. Did you bribe her?” “Just to stop me from crying? You really went to a lot of trouble!” Ryan yelled at me too. “Nancy, behave yourself! Prince Charles is attending today!” “If you mess up my inheritance, I won’t forgive you!” Hearing “Prince,” Chloe’s eyes lit up. My mother-in-law warned me, “Nancy, don’t cause trouble! If you ruin my chance to be a Prince’s mother-in-law, I’ll make Ryan divorce you!” I found it hilarious. Did they really think Chloe had a shot? One look and Prince Charles would fall for her? Knowing royalty was present, she still dared to use a funeral to hook a man! I waited for the inevitable disaster. As more guests arrived, Chloe approached every eligible bachelor to shake hands. Using her broken English accent, she tried to charm everyone. Suddenly, she clutched her chest, pretending to be short of breath, and turned to me. “Sis, go to the car and get my spray. I’m afraid I’ll hyperventilate later.” Heh, she needed to prep her throat for the wailing. I went to the car without thinking. But as soon as I got in, my hands and feet were tied. Bang! The door locked. Chloe looked at me through the window with disdain. “You kept stopping me because you’re afraid I’ll marry a noble and be better than you?” My mother-in-law gave me a cold look. “You’re married and washed up. Today, there are so many young talents for our Chloe to choose from!” Seeing Ryan standing there doing nothing, I glared at him. “You’re letting them lock me in here? It’s hot! Do you want to suffocate me?” He frowned, scolding me impatiently. “Stop playing the victim. I’m tired of you competing with Chloe!” “Stay in the car until the funeral is over!” He turned and left. Chloe was still fixing her makeup in the side mirror. Watching her cake on the powder, I couldn’t help but sneer. “Put on any more powder, and people will think it’s your funeral!” She frowned, then smirked. “Sis, you should be hoping I catch a rich husband.” “If I don’t find a good one, I wouldn’t mind stealing my brother!” Heh. Since Ryan pushed me off that mountain, I saw through his sick feelings for Chloe. Blaming me for her death, killing me… On the surface, he was my husband. deep down, he only cared about his adopted sister. I looked at her and smiled. “Steal him? I don’t want that trash anymore. He’s yours!” 3 Once the funeral started, Chloe began reciting her eulogy. At first, it was just soft sobbing, but soon it escalated to uncontrollable weeping. People around her stared, but Chloe didn’t notice. She thought their shocked looks meant they were moved by her grief. A gentleman handed her a handkerchief as she stepped down. Chloe’s eyes lit up, thinking he was hitting on her. Her crying got even louder, tears streaming down her face. The woman next to the gentleman sneered and poked her. “You’re from abroad, so maybe you don’t know our rules.” “But at a solemn occasion like this, who are you performing for?” Chloe assumed the woman was jealous and immediately snapped back. “You’re not sad about the Duke’s death, so you think tears are worthless!” “You’re cold-blooded! You have no right to teach me rules!” After her retort, Chloe realized that her crying worked! It attracted a man and made a noblewoman jealous! She was convinced her plan was working. She grabbed my mother-in-law and they started wailing together, louder than a street vendor. The guests frowned. Afraid of trouble, someone asked the priest to intervene. They thought maybe he could explain the customs to this foreign woman. But just as the priest raised his hand to comfort Chloe… She looked up, saw an old man, and shoved him away. The priest’s face darkened at the rude gesture. He warned sternly: “Stop crying! Our noble funerals require quiet mourning!” “This behavior is disrespectful to the deceased!” Chloe decided this old man was just picking on her because he couldn’t take advantage of her! She snapped: “God teaches compassion, but you cling to these dusty old rules!” “Not letting people cry? Why suppress human nature?” The priest was stunned speechless by her logic. Seeing everyone looking at her, Chloe felt triumphant. She thought her unique perspective and eloquence had impressed the crowd! As for the unfriendly looks? Just jealous women! She whispered to Ryan: “Bro, cry! See? Everyone admires me!” “Don’t you want to meet nobles? This is your chance!” Hearing there was profit to be made, Ryan started wailing like his parents had died. At that moment, I was standing on the second floor, having been rescued by a noble. I watched Chloe and the family put on their show. Those idiots were crying so hard they didn’t see the noble’s face on the balcony turning black with rage. The real show was just beginning! 4 The wailing made it impossible to proceed with the ceremony. The Duke’s head housekeeper couldn’t take it anymore. She approached Chloe. “Miss, you didn’t know the Duke, so you don’t understand him.” “I served him for forty years. In his later years, he always said he hated crying and performative grief at funerals.” Chloe assumed the woman was just a bitter servant who didn’t get any inheritance. “Some people serve for forty years just for a paycheck. No status, no name. What do you know about the Duke’s suffering?” “The Duke died alone, and you, who were with him for forty years, are so cold-hearted?” Her words were like a knife, making the housekeeper’s eyes red. Unable to contain her grief, the housekeeper turned to leave. I saw this and chased after her to comfort her. Chloe saw me and yelled: “Why are you everywhere? Escaped already?” “Sucking up to a servant? What good will that do you?” I glared at her with contempt. Chloe had the nerve to say she knew the Duke’s life? She didn’t know that this housekeeper was the person the Duke respected most. She was the first in line for the inheritance, but she remembered the Duke’s kindness. Thinking she was too old, she declined the inheritance, leaving it for those who needed it more. And yet, Chloe dared to insult her publicly? Once the housekeeper left, Chloe saw no more obstacles. She waved Ryan and her mom away. She knelt and hugged the Duke’s coffin, crying her heart out. She was determined to make sure Prince Charles saw her “deep affection” the moment he walked in! Her behavior was so ugly that the lawyer who invited us panicked! “Stop howling! Prince Charles will be here any minute. He cares about etiquette!” “If he sees this, he’ll throw you out!” Chloe exploded: “You’re a lawyer, lying to the heirs?” “Using the Prince to scare us so you can steal the money?” The lawyer choked, eyes burning with anger. “You’re disrupting the funeral and disturbing the Duke’s peace, and you accuse me?” Chloe scoffed and ignored him. She looked up and saw me going upstairs with the housekeeper. She seemed to realize something. She rushed over to block me, hissing through her teeth: “So that’s it! You got all these people to stop me from crying!” “You’re afraid I’ll shine in front of Prince Charles!” I smirked, mocking her. “You look like a cat in heat. Do you think anyone wants to see you howling?” Chloe shook with rage. Her eyes darted around, and she deliberately twisted her ankle, tumbling down the stairs. Landing on her butt, she started wailing loudly, using every trick in the book. “What did I do wrong? Why do you treat me like this, Sis?” The guests’ eyes turned cold. Great. Crying wasn’t enough; now she’s playing the victim! “Are you that jealous? You had to push her here? You’ve embarrassed the Luo family!” Ryan rushed over, cursing me. Not satisfied, he slapped me hard. “Prince Charles is almost here, and you’re causing drama!” “Get out! Now!” My mother-in-law and Chloe lunged at me, dragging me towards the door. My arm hurt from their grip. “Stop!” A low shout froze everyone. The crowd parted, and the only sound was leather shoes on the floor. A man wearing a royal crest walked out. His aura silenced the room. “You violated the taboo of wailing at the altar, and now you’re using violence? I don’t think you need this inheritance.” 5 Chloe and Ryan went pale. How did they run into Prince Charles while dragging me out? Ryan panicked and stammered: “Prince Charles, you misunderstand! This woman is making a scene. We’re helping maintain order!” Prince Charles scoffed, pointing at the door. “Do you think we’re blind? You’re the ones wailing and disrupting the funeral!” “Maintain order? The ones who should leave are you mannerless people!” Not expecting such a harsh rebuke, Ryan’s face changed colors. Chloe sat on the floor, holding her ankle, tears flowing instantly. “Prince Charles, look! She pushed me! My ankle is sprained!” “She bullies me like this, and you protect her?” She thought her pitiful act would soften his heart. But Prince Charles looked at her like she was a clown. “Finished crying? Go cry outside! Our funerals do not allow wailing!” Humiliated, Chloe’s face burned. She turned to me, pointing a shaking finger. “It’s you! You’re behind this!” “You’re amazing, huh? Getting to the servers and the Prince, spreading rumors about me beforehand!” I glanced at her coldly. “I don’t have that kind of influence. You flatter me.” “You didn’t listen to advice, caused trouble, and now you blame others!” Prince Charles shouted angrily: “Silence! You were the ones wailing, you were the ones dragging her!” “Twisting the truth here? Do you think everyone is stupid?” Seeing the Prince’s dark face, Chloe panicked. “Prince Charles, we’re from another country. We didn’t know the custom forbids crying!” The noblewoman from earlier spoke up disdainfully. “Stop pretending! I just told you, and you called me cold-blooded!” “The priest warned you too, and you said he didn’t understand God’s mercy.” The lawyer stepped forward angrily. “I advised you nicely, and you accused me of trying to steal the inheritance!” “I’ve never been so insulted in my life!” Seeing everyone turning against them, I spoke up. “I told you before we came that British nobles don’t allow wailing.” “But one of you was busy chasing men, the other climbing the social ladder. Who listened?” “Now that you’re in trouble, you blame me? Have some shame!” Chloe’s eyes flashed with calculation. She started lying loudly. “Sis! You told me to cry! You said it would make people like me and help me meet nobles!” “You said ignore anyone who tries to stop me!” “Now that people are mad, you blame me? What is your problem?!” Ryan immediately backed her up. “Yes! It was all Nancy’s idea! She said she knew noble customs best!” “She told us to cry hard, said it showed respect!” My mother-in-law joined in, spitting at me. “Exactly! Don’t be fooled by her innocent look!” “It was all her idea! Punish her! It has nothing to do with my son and daughter!” I looked at this family with disgust, wishing I could slap myself. I was blind to choose this man and this rotten family! Before I could speak, Prince Charles slammed his hand on the table. “I just rescued this lady from your car! She was half dead!” “You bullied her, and now you frame her?” “Do you think I’m blind or stupid?”

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1 In our house, everything had a price tag. A goodnight hug from Mom was one dollar. Dad spinning me in the air for three minutes was five dollars. I kept a careful record of these transactions in my head, then paid them, coin by coin, from my little teddy bear purse. Dad said it was to teach me to be independent and to never take anything for granted. He called it “paying your way.” The thing I feared most wasn’t monsters in the dark. It was Dad looking at the bill and saying, “Willow, you’ve overspent on affection today.” I tried so hard to save up, to buy more and more love. Until the day a strange man offered me a piece of candy in a shiny wrapper. I habitually asked him how much it cost. He said it was free; all I had to do was walk with him for a little while. … My teacher, Mrs. Davis, gave me a shiny star sticker. It glittered on the back of my hand like a real star. All the other kids held up their stickers for their moms to see, but I didn’t. I carefully peeled it off and hid it in my pocket. My little hand clutched my pocket all the way home, my mind racing with calculations. Dad had taught me that its value needed to be assessed, then used to offset my “educational expenses.” How much was it worth? A dollar? Two? I was nervous. If I priced it too high, Daddy would call me dishonest. But if I priced it too low, it felt like I was disrespecting my teacher’s praise. When I got home, Mom was mopping the floor. I ran to her and fumbled inside my faded little teddy bear purse, finally pulling out a single coin. I held it out to her. “Mommy,” I whispered, “I want to buy a hug.” Something flickered in her eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. She straightened up and opened her arms. I stepped into them. One second. Two seconds. She let go. She took the coin from my hand and dropped it into a glass jar on the kitchen windowsill. A thin layer of coins already covered the bottom. My father, Arthur, was sitting on the sofa. He glanced up, then tapped something into his phone. “What did you accomplish at school today?” he asked, his eyes still glued to the screen. My heart pounded as I pulled the star sticker from my pocket and handed it to him. He took it without a word of praise, snapped a picture with his phone, and uploaded it with a note: “Return on Educational Investment (ROEI): Non-monetary asset x1. Estimated value: $2. To be deducted from educational expenses.” I breathed a sigh of relief. My estimate was close. Just then, the doorbell rang. Mom answered it. My aunt Claire and my cousin Leo were standing on the porch. “Elara!” my aunt cried, sweeping me up from the floor and planting a huge kiss on my cheek. “Oh, my sweet girl, I’ve missed you so much!” I froze. Aunt Claire’s hug was warm. It wasn’t fast like Mom’s. And I knew Dad wasn’t timing it in his head. But… but this hug was too expensive. I squirmed out of her arms and hid behind my mother, clutching her dress. “Mommy, Auntie’s hug… how much do I have to pay? I don’t have enough money. Can I owe you?” The smile vanished from my aunt’s face. She stared at me, then at my parents, her expression one of pure disbelief. My cousin Leo, a year older than me, didn’t understand the sudden shift in mood. He ran over and pushed his Transformer into my hands. “Here, Willow! You can play with this!” I recoiled as if I’d been burned, clutching my teddy bear purse to my chest. “I can’t just take things from you.” “Arthur! Elara! Look at what you’ve done!” Aunt Claire finally exploded, her finger trembling as she pointed at my parents. “Are you insane? You’re turning a child into a monster! This is a home, not a corporation!” My father adjusted his glasses. “You don’t understand, Claire,” he said calmly. “This is a progressive parenting philosophy. We’re cultivating her independence, teaching her the value of things. It will give her a competitive edge later in life.” “Independence? A competitive edge?” My aunt laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. “She’s four years old! What she needs is unconditional love, not a damn quid pro quo!” My mother tugged on her sister’s arm. “It’s okay, Claire, please. This is our way. Don’t interfere.” Aunt Claire looked at my mother, her eyes filled with disappointment. The argument ended, as it always did, in a tense stalemate. As my aunt was leaving, her eyes shimmering with tears, she knelt down and secretly pressed a piece of candy into my hand. The wrapper was so shiny, more beautiful than anything I had ever seen. She lowered her voice. “Listen to me, Willow. What your aunt gives you is love.” “Love, sweetheart. Love is free.” I clutched the candy, lost in a profound confusion. Love… is free? That night, I came down with a fever. My body was a war of ice and fire. I felt miserable. I wanted to call for my mom, but I didn’t dare. I quietly opened my teddy bear purse. Inside were only two coins and a few “love coupons” I had drawn myself. I was sick. Mom taking care of me would cost “fees,” and nighttime service would definitely be more expensive. I didn’t have enough. I couldn’t afford it. I was scared of “going into debt.” Daddy said debt was a shameful thing. So I wrapped myself tightly in my blankets, clutching the candy from my aunt—the only free thing I owned—and willed the morning to come. The next day, when Mom came to wake me, she touched my forehead and gasped. Her hand was cool and felt good against my burning skin. But Dad’s first reaction was to pull out his phone and open the accounting app. “Estimated pharmacy costs, eighty dollars. My delivery fee, calculated at minimum wage, is twenty dollars. Total, one hundred dollars. Elara, you need to transfer fifty dollars to the family medical emergency fund.” “Arthur, just go get the medicine! She’s burning up!” Mom’s voice was choked with tears. “The rules must be followed,” he insisted. They started arguing at my door. Words like “cost,” “payment,” and “unfair” floated through the wood. It was my fault. By getting sick, I had spent too much money. I had caused a “deficit” in our family. I was a bad asset. I climbed out of bed and ran to them on bare feet. I took my teddy bear purse, with all my assets inside, and the piece of candy I had been saving, and pushed them all into my mother’s hands. “Mommy, I’ll pay you back,” I cried. “Please don’t fight. I won’t… I won’t get sick anymore.” My mother looked at the pathetic offering in my hand, then at my flushed, feverish face. Suddenly, she broke. For the first time ever, she screamed at my father. “Arthur, look! Look what you’ve done to our daughter!” It was the first time I had ever seen her fight back. A tiny part of me felt happy. Dad was stunned by her outburst. His eyes fell on the imported candy in my hand, and his expression turned even colder. “This is your sister’s fault. Her interference has confused Willow’s values! This must be corrected!” The “correction” was a new, more detailed “Family Contribution and Reward Chart.” Dad taped it to the wall. It read: Wipe the table: 2 points. Arrange the family’s slippers: 3 points. Buy something from the corner store alone: 5 points… And a bedtime story cost 10 points. To earn a story, I had to stand on my tiptoes, using all my strength to wipe down the dining table that was taller than me. One day, Dad sent me to the corner store to buy a bottle of soy sauce. He gave me the exact amount, not a penny more, not a penny less. Outside the store, I saw a strange man giving candy to the other kids. The wrappers were shiny and bright, just like the one my aunt had given me. Her words echoed in my head: “Love is free.” The smile on the man’s face looked a little like my aunt’s smile. I watched him, and the strange, warm feeling fluttered in my chest again. That night, my parents got into another huge fight over a two-dollar discrepancy in the electricity bill. I hid behind my bedroom door, listening to them yell about “losses,” “unbalanced books,” and “unfairness.” It was me. I had consumed too much love. I had made this family run at a loss. I had to earn money for them. I had to fix the deficit. I had to go out and find that free love and bring it home. The next morning, the house was silent. Mom and Dad were in a cold war, not speaking to each other. There was no breakfast on the table, no one in the living room. This only strengthened my resolve to go out and “earn.” I got dressed and put on my teddy bear purse. Inside were my two coins and my “love coupons.” I also brought the candy from my aunt, the one I still hadn’t eaten. These were my total assets, my proof of credit. At the front door, I hesitated, looking back at the quiet house. I whispered to the empty air, “Daddy, Mommy, I’m going to earn money for our family.” Then I turned the knob and walked out. I walked from memory, back to the community garden where I had seen the strange man. I was in luck. He was there again. When he saw me all by myself, his eyes lit up, and a friendly smile spread across his face. He walked toward me and pulled a piece of candy from his pocket. It was even bigger than the one my aunt gave me. The wrapper was gold foil with a cartoon bear on it. It was the most beautiful candy I had ever seen. He held it out to me. “Here you go, little one. This is for you.” I took a step back. I had been raised well. I couldn’t just take things from people. I looked at him warily and asked, in a serious voice, “Mister, how much does this candy cost?” This was the most important rule Dad had taught me. The man paused for a second, then a look of understanding crossed his face. He played along. “This candy is special. It doesn’t cost money. But you do have to help me with something.” I understood immediately. It was a “labor for payment” transaction. Just like wiping the table to earn a bedtime story. It was fair. I nodded seriously. “Okay. What do you need help with?” The man smiled. “I’m lost, and I can’t find my way home. If you walk with me and help me find my mommy, this candy is yours.” I didn’t doubt him for a second. I obediently put my small hand in his big, warm one. I was even a little happy. I was about to “earn” such a beautiful piece of candy. I could bring it home and show Daddy and Mommy that I wasn’t making them run at a “loss.” And so, we walked, step by step, out of the neighborhood. The sun felt warm on my face. By evening, the cold war in my house had finally ended. It wasn’t until my mother went to make dinner that they realized I was gone. At first, they thought I was hiding in a closet or playing at a neighbor’s house. They searched everywhere and asked everyone. No one had seen me. Panic began to set in. My mother called my aunt Claire. The moment my aunt heard, she knew something was wrong and urged them to call the police. My father was still complaining that it was an overreaction, even muttering that he wondered if they would have to “pay” for the public resources wasted if the police couldn’t find me. Just then, my mother found a small note under the doormat. It was a crayon drawing I had made. In it, a little girl was giving a huge bag of gold coins to her parents. Beside it, in my wobbly, newly-learned handwriting, were three words: “Gone to earn.” I felt myself getting lighter, like a feather, floating up. It was very dark, and my body didn’t hurt anymore, but I wasn’t scared. Just a little cold. I saw a version of “me,” wearing my clothes, lying on a cold metal table. The man who gave me the candy was talking to another strange man. “This batch of ‘goods’ is high quality. You can settle the bill now.” I didn’t understand what they were talking about, but I had completed my “payment” for the golden candy. Maybe, just like in my drawing, I had even “earned” a lot of money for my family. When Dad and Mom saw the final invoice, they would be so happy. I missed my mommy. As soon as I had that thought, I was floating again, passing through walls, back in my house. It was still quiet. Mom and Dad were sitting on the sofa, not speaking. I saw the drawing I’d left by the door, the wobbly words—”Gone to earn.” I was happy. Soon they would know I had contributed to the family. I saw my mother find the note. Her face turned white, whiter than the walls. I didn’t understand. Why didn’t she look happy? She grabbed my father’s hand, her voice a sound I had never heard before as she screamed “Call the police!” My father’s expression was strange, too. For the first time, he threw his phone with the accounting app onto the sofa. I floated along with them to a place with lots of men in uniforms. I heard my parents describe me to a police officer, telling him how I loved “paying my way,” how I loved “transactions,” and how I always carried my teddy bear purse. The officer’s face grew very serious. I felt a little proud. See? Even grown-ups I didn’t know understood my rules. Then my face appeared on a screen. I saw myself holding the man’s hand, getting into a white van. Mom and Dad suddenly became very agitated. I was happy, too. Were they coming to pick me up from “work”? But then a phone rang, and the police officer said the license plate was fake. My mother started to cry. My father punched the wall. I floated over to my mom, wanting to give her a hug like my aunt would, but my hands passed right through her body. For the first time, I felt confused. Why were they so sad? Didn’t I go to “earn”? Shouldn’t this be a happy thing? Aunt Claire arrived, and the house was thrown into chaos. Dad kept increasing the reward money online, mumbling, “Any amount, I’ll pay it, I’ll pay it!” I looked at the numbers, more than all the money in my teddy bear purse and all my “love coupons” combined, multiplied by a million. Daddy was this rich? Then why did he make me pay for a hug? The phone rang again. A girl who looked like me had been found in the next city. I “floated” beside the car as my parents raced there. I heard my mom sobbing in the car, saying that when they found me, she would never keep accounts again, that she would buy me the most beautiful dresses in the world and all the candy I ever wanted. A warm feeling spread through me. So, completing such a big “deal” could earn so many “rewards.” But the girl wasn’t me. I saw my mother let out a terrible, keening sound. Dad held her, and my calm, rational father was crying, too. I floated beside them, and for the first time, I felt their sadness. Just when they were at their most desperate, the police officer called them over. I followed them into a small white room. The first thing I saw was my little jacket, my favorite one. Except it was covered in red, like when I accidentally spilled my red paint. Next to it was the wrapper from the golden candy I had “earned.” I was so happy! It was my “proof of transaction.” They had found it! Now they would know I had completed the deal. When my mother saw the jacket, her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed. Dad caught her just in time. I desperately wanted to tell him, “Daddy, don’t be scared! I earned this!” But no sound would come out. I heard the police officer speak to my father, his voice low and heavy. “…The child’s organs were harvested… based on what was left at the scene, we’ve put together… a bloody invoice.”

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1 Payday. The day I was supposed to see a hundred grand hit my account. Instead, I saw one thousand. I went to my boss’s office to find out why. He slapped the pay stub on his desk and roared, “A hundred-thousand-dollar bonus? Have you got dollar signs in your eyes? Our receptionist, Chloe, makes two thousand a month. The janitor makes fifteen hundred. What makes you so damn special?” I fought to keep my voice steady. “I generated fifty million in revenue for this company this year. According to my contract, this is what I’m owed.” “Don’t you dare talk to me about contracts! This company gave you the platform to succeed! Without us, who the hell are you?” he spat, his face turning beet red. “I don’t care about your numbers; I care about attitude! Others are grateful for a couple of grand, and you have the nerve to question me over this?” He leaned forward, his voice a low threat. “Mention money again, and I’ll dock that thousand, too.” After a long, tense silence, I finally nodded. Fine. A thousand it is. Noah Cross had been a capitalist pig for so long, he’d forgotten a simple truth. You pay peanuts, you get monkeys. … “You’re right, Mr. Cross,” I said, my voice smooth as glass. “I was being selfish, too focused on my own gain.” Cross blinked, clearly thrown by how quickly I’d folded. A slow, smug smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his leather throne. “That’s more like it. You’re young, Lana. You need to think long-term. Don’t get hung up on a little bit of cash. Keep working hard, and the company will take care of you.” “Understood, Mr. Cross. I’ll get back to work.” The moment I turned, I pulled out my phone and screenshotted the bank notification. From this second forward, every extra ounce of effort I put in would be a personal failure. Returning to my desk, the air was thick with a strange tension. I could feel the eyes on my back, and then came the snide remarks from Kevin, the head of Sales Team B. “Well, well. Some people really think they’re hot stuff. Take away the company name, and who even knows who you are?” A few of the junior reps who used to trail after me like puppies chimed in with muffled laughter. “I heard they cut her entire bonus. She only got a grand? That’s hilarious. I made more than that as an intern.” “She always struts around like she owns the place. Guess this brought her back down to earth. Mr. Cross was doing her a favor by setting her straight, and she was too stupid to see it.” “Shh, keep it down. She’s probably fuming. Might bite your head off.” The old me would have shut them down with my sales figures. But now? I just swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth and said nothing. I glanced at the clock. 5:01 PM. Official office hours were nine to five, but I’d never left before eight, often grinding away until the early morning hours. I used to believe hard work paid off. Now, I just thought I was an idiot. I started packing my things, closing the half-finished PowerPoint without saving. My assistant, Lily, stared at me, her eyes wide. “Lana… are you leaving?” “Yep. It’s quitting time.” Lily’s gaze flickered between me and the clock on the wall. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “But… Mr. Cross just posted in the group chat. There’s a mandatory project review meeting at six.” “Oh. Well, you go have fun with that.” I shrugged. “Company policy says the workday ends at five. It is now five-oh-one. I am officially on my personal time.” With that, under Lily’s horrified stare, I strode toward the time clock. Just my luck, Cross was walking out of his office and saw me standing by the elevator, bag slung over my shoulder. His face darkened instantly. “Lana! Where do you think you’re going?” The elevator doors slid open. I turned back, plastering an innocent look on my face. “Home, Mr. Cross. The workday is over.” “Over?” His voice shot up an octave. “We haven’t had the review meeting! Is the proposal for tomorrow’s client finished? You dare walk out at a time like this?” I held the elevator door open with my hand, my voice calm. “Mr. Cross, you just taught me a valuable lesson. Don’t think of myself as special. I should compare myself more to Chloe at the front desk, or the cleaning staff.” “I’ve been reflecting on your wisdom, and you’re absolutely right,” I continued, my smile never wavering. “Chloe leaves at five on the dot every day. The janitor doesn’t need to understand business analytics. As for something as important as a project review meeting, a thousand-dollar employee like me shouldn’t be wasting your valuable time.” I let go of the button. The doors began to close, shutting out the sight of his apoplectic face. His furious roar echoed down the hall just before they sealed shut. “Lana! You’re out of your goddamn mind! If that proposal isn’t on my desk tomorrow, you can pack your shit and get the hell out!” Get out? He should be so lucky. If I walked out now, that hundred grand would be gone forever. He was just trying to find a pretext to fire me so he wouldn’t have to pay. Too bad for you, Noah. We salespeople are experts at two things: reading people and playing dirty. The next morning, I walked into the office at 9 AM on the dot. Cross was standing by the reception desk, his face a thundercloud. He sneered as I walked in. “Well, look who it is. Her Royal Highness decided to grace us with her presence, right on time?” I smiled brightly. “Good morning, Mr. Cross. Adhering to the company’s attendance policy is every employee’s duty. Arriving even a minute early would be a waste of company resources. I know how much you care about the electricity bill.” A few colleagues nearby choked back laughter, their faces turning red. Cross’s jaw twitched, but he didn’t take the bait. He just stuck out his hand. “The proposal. The one for Apex Corp. The client is coming in at ten for the presentation.” Apex Corp was our biggest target this year, a potential twenty-million-dollar deal. Normally, a proposal of this magnitude would take me three all-nighters to perfect. Pages and pages of data analysis, competitive research, and a deep dive into the personal preferences of the Apex CEO. But now… “I emailed it to you.” Cross shot me a suspicious glare before storming back to his office. Less than three minutes later, a roar erupted from within. “Lana! Get in here, NOW!” “What’s the problem, Mr. Cross?” He jabbed a trembling finger at his computer screen. “This is your proposal? What is this dogshit?!” On the screen was a pathetic five-page PowerPoint. It was filled with impressive-sounding corporate jargon that meant absolutely nothing. “I don’t see the issue, Mr. Cross,” I said calmly. “The logic is clear, the vocabulary is high-level. It looks perfectly professional.” “You call this a proposal?” He slammed his mouse on the desk. “Where’s the data analysis? The competitor breakdown? The execution details? It’s all just empty buzzwords! Are you trying to make me look like a complete fool in front of the client?” I spread my hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Mr. Cross, for a thousand-dollar salary, what kind of in-depth analysis were you expecting?” I leaned against the doorframe. “Besides, you said it yourself yesterday. The platform is what matters most. With a platform as powerful as ours, surely we don’t need my insignificant little data points to land a client?” Cross’s face went from red to a terrifying shade of purple. He clutched his chest, pointing a shaky finger at me. “You… you…” “Lana, this is willful negligence! This is a serious breach of conduct! I can fire you for this on the spot!” I didn’t flinch. Instead, I helpfully pulled out a chair for him. “Mr. Cross, the definition of willful negligence is refusing to do the work. But I did the work. The proposal was submitted, and I clocked in on time. As for the quality… well, that’s a matter of capability, isn’t it?” “If you feel I’m no longer competent for my role, fine. But you’ll need to provide evidence of my incompetence. Firing me without cause? That’s wrongful termination. You’d be looking at double the severance pay. Let’s see… that would be around four hundred thousand dollars.” I beamed at him. And the client would be here at ten. No one else in the entire company could close the CEO of Apex Corp in that little time. Cross took several deep, shuddering breaths, forcing his rage down. His eyes turned cold and venomous. “Fine. Fine, Lana. You want to play games? Let’s play.” “You’re doing today’s presentation. And if you screw it up, if you cost this company a major client, you’re not just fired, you’ll be sued for damages. You will be ruined.” “Now take your garbage proposal and get to the conference room.” He had me there. Sabotaging a major deal was grounds for a for-cause dismissal. But I had already rolled the dice. I nodded. “Okay. I’ll go.” Ten o’clock. The conference room. Victor Sterling, the CEO of Apex Corp, sat across the table with his team, exuding an aura of pure power. Cross sat at the head of the table, his face plastered with a sycophantic grin. He kept shooting me frantic looks that screamed, Nail this, or I’ll kill you. I gave him a reassuring glance, powered on the projector, and opened the file. “Good morning, everyone. My name is Lana.” “Our core philosophy for this partnership is detailed in the presentation. Please take the next five minutes to review it at your leisure.” And with that, I sat down, pulled out my phone, and started scrolling through social media. The room fell into a dead, shocked silence. Five minutes later, Mr. Sterling’s patience snapped. He slammed his pen on the table. “Mr. Cross, is this your idea of a serious proposal? Is that it?” Beads of sweat popped on Cross’s forehead. He scrambled to his feet. “A misunderstanding! Mr. Sterling, this is our lead manager… she must have brought the wrong version! Lana, what are you doing? Explain yourself!” I looked up from my phone, my expression one of pure, innocent confusion. “The wrong version? No, Mr. Cross. This is the one. You taught me yesterday, remember? For a thousand-dollar paycheck, who needs in-depth analysis?” I looked over at the client. “He also told me that with our company’s powerful platform, he could handle things personally. My greatest contribution would be to just stay quiet.” “You… you…” Cross was shaking with uncontrollable rage. Mr. Sterling let out a cold laugh and stood, straightening his suit jacket. “It seems your company has some serious internal management issues. If you can’t even manage your own employees, how can you possibly manage our projects? We’re done here. Don’t contact us again.” His team swept out of the room without a backward glance. The moment the door clicked shut, the air in the room seemed to crystallize. Cross turned slowly, his face a mask of pure fury. “Lana… you are so fucking dead.” With a primal scream, he snatched the heavy ceramic mug from the table, still steaming with hot coffee, and hurled it at my head with all his might. Pain exploded above my eye, and hot liquid streamed down my face. “Twenty million! That was a twenty-million-dollar deal! You backstabbing bitch! I’d get more loyalty from a stray dog!” Cross had completely lost it. Seeing I hadn’t moved, he lunged across the room, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and slammed my head against the conference table. I managed to shield the back of my head and my torso, bracing as he vented his fury. “You want to talk about labor laws? You want your money? I’ll give you what you deserve!” A steel-toed shoe slammed into my stomach, sending me sprawling to the floor. Even as I curled into a ball, the kicks kept coming. “I could beat you to death right here, and all it would cost me is money! And I have plenty of that!” he shrieked, his voice cracking. “But you, you worthless, ungrateful whore, I’m going to make sure you are blacklisted in this entire industry! We’ll see who hires you then!” “What the hell are you? Huh? A piece of trash with no family, too stupid to know your place!” Agony ripped through me, and cold sweat drenched my clothes, but I bit my lip and didn’t make a sound. Through the glass walls, I could see my colleagues staring, some screaming, but not one of them dared to intervene. After what felt like an eternity, Cross finally stopped, panting heavily. He spat on my face. Straightening his tie, he looked down at my bloodied form and sneered. “Feel good? That’s what happens when you cross me.” “Don’t play dead. Get up. I’m having HR transfer you to janitorial. From now on, you’ll be scrubbing toilets, and I’ll be watching. If they’re not clean enough, I’ll do this all over again. Let’s see how tough you really are.” He kicked a chair out of his way and stormed out. The conference room was a wreck. Lily rushed in, crying, trying to help me up. “Lana… Lana, are you okay? Should I call an ambulance?” I gently pushed her away and pulled out the phone I had been clutching tightly in my pocket. The screen was still on. The video recording icon was still blinking. I opened a social media app and created a new post. Title: 5-Year Sales Champion. $100k Bonus Stolen. Beaten by Boss for Asking Why. Within minutes, the notification counter was already stuck at 99+. Noah Cross, I thought, a grim smile touching my lips. Get ready to go viral. But just as I hit ‘post,’ the conference room door was thrown open again. “You! You’re finished!”

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1 In the middle of a crucial video call, my long-silent high school group chat erupted. Someone tagged me repeatedly: “Aria, Lily is getting married today—aren’t you coming?” Messages poured in: Lily Evans, our class beauty, was getting married, and seemingly all our old classmates were there. “Sorry, work is too busy. I can’t make it,” I replied, sparking instant backlash. “Busy? You never post. Your life must be a mess.” “Too embarrassed? Just admit it.” Lily herself wrote: “Remember our bet? I said I’d marry a man far more successful than yours.” “I don’t remember,” I replied truthfully, which only fueled the attacks. “Lily’s husband is a CEO! He arranged over a hundred luxury cars for the wedding!” “Is your husband so bad you’re pretending to forget?” “Can’t even afford a gift? Need a GoFundMe?” Amid the insults, Lily tagged me again, pretending kindness: “I wish you could come, Aria. I’d even ask my husband to get you a cleaning job here.” She then posted a wedding photo with her new husband. I froze. The man in the photo was my own husband, Ethan Harvey. “Fine,” I typed. “I’ll be there to witness your happy moment.” The moment I sent the message, a text from Ethan came through. “Hey, babe. I’m heading back to my hometown today to see my parents. I made you dinner and left it in the fridge, you just have to heat it up.” “I love you forever, honey.” Ethan had married into my family three years ago, and he’d always taken meticulous care of me. Even when he traveled, he made sure everything I needed was prepared. I used to be touched by these thoughtful little details. Now, they just seemed pathetic. I cut the video conference short. Following the wedding location Lily had posted in the group chat, I drove to her hometown. From a distance, I could see a massive red banner strung across the front of her family’s house. “A WARM WELCOME TO MR. ETHAN HARVEY, CEO OF APEX CORPORATION!” Beneath the banner, Lily stood in a stunning, custom-made white gown, anxiously awaiting her groom. She was surrounded by a crowd of our old high school classmates. “Lily, you kept him a secret for so long! We had no idea your fiancé was the CEO of Apex!” “Seriously, Ethan Harvey is a legendary entrepreneur! You’re amazing for landing such a high-value man!” “Lily, you’re about to be a billionaire’s wife! Don’t forget about us when you’re living the high life!” Even our old high school homeroom teacher was there, fawning over her. “Lily, the first time I saw you, I knew you were destined for greatness. That’s why I never criticized you for your poor grades. I knew you were born for wealth; you didn’t need to rely on academics!” Basking in the flattery, Lily’s smile widened, her eyes filled with smug satisfaction. For years, Ethan had been little more than a kept husband. To give him some experience and a title, I had put him in charge of Apex Corporation, the smallest of my subsidiary companies. I never imagined it would become the source of Lily Evans’s bragging rights. The moment they saw me arrive, the fawning classmates’ faces soured. One of Lily’s little minions noticed the car I was driving and strutted over, sneering. “Aria Sterling, you’re so desperate. Did you really rent a Bentley just to save face at Lily’s wedding?” The others chimed in with their own contemptuous remarks. “No wonder she had the guts to show up. She’s just here to front. Renting that for a day must’ve cost you three months’ salary, right?” “Some people will do anything to look important. No matter how rich you pretend to be, you’ll never be richer than Lily’s husband!” “Seriously, is it that hard to admit someone is more successful than you? Was your pride really worth the cost of a rental?” I remained unfazed by their insults. “This is my car.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Lily strode up to me and slapped me hard across the face. “Your car? This is my husband’s car, you bitch!” she shrieked. “I always suspected he was keeping some slut on the side. I should have known it was you!” “You shameless homewrecker! How dare you drive my husband’s car to my wedding to provoke me, his actual wife?” Her accusation made everyone’s eyes go wide. “Lily, this car belongs to your husband? Are you serious?” Lily’s expression was pure arrogance. “Of course, it is.” She pulled out her phone and showed them a series of photos of her and Ethan. There were intimate selfies of them inside the car, and cozy pictures of them sitting on the hood. The interior details and the license plate were crystal clear in the photos. It was identical to the car I was standing next to. A wave of murmurs went through the crowd. “It really is her husband’s car! That means Aria Sterling is the other woman!” Lily’s face was contorted with rage. “No wonder you never post anything online. You’ve been busy being a professional mistress.” The others turned on me, their eyes filled with disgust. “I can’t believe it. Aria always acted so high and mighty, but she’s just a common slut.” “And to think I had a crush on her in high school, the cold, brainy type. I even wrote her a love letter. It makes me sick just thinking about it now.” “It’s always the ones who act so pure and distant. Behind closed doors, they’re probably desperate for it. They see a rich man and just spread their legs.” “And she had the nerve to drive her sugar daddy’s car to his own wife’s wedding! She’s obviously just jealous that Lily is marrying well and came here to ruin everything!” Even our old teacher looked at me with scorn. “Aria Sterling, if you’re ever out in public, do not tell anyone you were my student. I never taught anyone with such depraved morals.” The accusations and condemnations drew a crowd of onlookers, all pointing and whispering. Some even started recording me with their phones, a few spitting in my direction. I took off my jacket—a piece worth over ten thousand dollars—and tossed it into a nearby trash can. Then I faced Lily directly. “I suggest you ask Ethan Harvey very carefully who the mistress is and who the wife is.” Her response was another sharp slap. “Do I need to ask? Can’t you see this is my wedding day with Ethan?” she screamed, then turned her fury on my car. “I hate homewreckers more than anything in this world. All of you deserve to die!” She pulled a key from her purse and viciously carved a single word into the side of my car. WHORE. I glanced at the ugly scar on the paint. “You’re going to realize very soon just how ironic that word is,” I said, my voice ice-cold. My calmness only enraged her further. “You bitch! You steal my man and then you have the nerve to mock me? The thought of a slut like you driving my husband’s car makes me want to vomit!” She snatched a brick from the side of the road and began smashing it against my car. The windows, the headlights, the hood—she attacked every part of it with savage intensity. “Lily’s the future Mrs. CEO of Apex Corporation! We can’t let her be bullied by a low-life mistress like Aria!” someone in the crowd shouted. That was all the encouragement they needed. They all grabbed whatever they could find—rocks, branches, anything—and joined in, smashing my car with frenzied glee. After breaking the windows, they even climbed inside, slashing the leather seats and destroying the interior. In moments, my pristine luxury car was a mangled wreck. I watched the mob, my eyes cold as steel. “I hope you’re all this enthusiastic when it’s time to pay for the damages.” No one paid me any mind. It was as if I wasn’t even there. Just then, Lily’s minion pried open the trunk. “Hey, look! She’s got a bunch of fancy stuff in here!” Lily walked over and pulled out a framed painting, her lip curled in a sneer. “A woman who sells her body for money is trying to be a sophisticated art collector? How pathetic.” I issued a sharp warning. “Be careful. Those things are worth a lot more than the car. Especially that painting.” The items in my trunk were collectibles I had recently acquired at an auction and hadn’t had a chance to move to storage. My warning only fueled Lily’s fire. “For a piece of art to be owned by a slut like you is a desecration,” she spat. “Trash like you only deserves trash!” With that, she ripped the canvas to shreds right in front of me. She threw the tattered remains on the ground and stomped on them with her heels. Our old teacher peered at the destroyed painting. “Wait… I think that was a genuine Monet. I heard pieces like that start at fifty million dollars at auction!” Lily was unfazed. “So what if it’s fifty million? It’s all my husband’s money anyway! And his money is my money. What’s wrong with me destroying my own property?” I was speechless. Not only was Ethan a penniless man who had married into my family, but his incompetence at Apex had actually caused the company’s value to drop by nearly half. If he wasn’t my husband, I would have fired him ages ago. Yet, to Lily and these old classmates, he was a revered and powerful CEO. With Lily leading the charge, the others eagerly joined in, destroying every last item in my trunk. There’s no point reasoning with a pack of wolves. Since they were lost in their destructive frenzy, I stopped trying to warn them. I quietly pulled out my phone to call the police. Before I could even dial, Lily lunged at me, snatched the phone from my hand, and smashed it on the ground. “Calling the cops? A homewrecker who preys on other women’s husbands has no right!” she sneered. Then her eyes locked onto my neck. “That locket… it looks expensive. I bet my husband bought that for you, too!” In one swift, violent motion, she ripped the necklace from my neck. It happened so fast I didn’t have time to react. My demeanor instantly changed. “Give that back to me,” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. Seeing my sudden panic, Lily’s smirk widened. “So nervous? This must be worth a pretty penny, huh?” “It’s not valuable,” I said, my voice tight with urgency, “but it’s important to me. Give it back. Now.” I lunged for it. That locket was a protective charm my mother had given her life to get for me. I had been a sickly child, and at four years old, I fell into a coma. The doctors told my parents to prepare for the worst. My mother, unable to accept it, went on a pilgrimage to a great cathedral to pray for me. To show her sincerity, in the scorching forty-degree summer heat, she crawled on her hands and knees from the bottom of the holy mountain to the shrine at its peak. She crawled until her knees were raw and bloody, until her head was bruised and she was nearly unconscious, all to obtain this blessed locket for me. Perhaps heaven was moved by her sacrifice. Miraculously, I woke from my coma. But my mother fell ill from the ordeal and never recovered. Before she died, she placed the locket in my hand and made me promise to always keep it safe. I have treasured it my entire life, never taking it off. It was the last piece of my mother I had left. It was my breaking point. And I would not let anyone destroy it. “The more you want it, the more I want to destroy it!” Lily taunted. Before I could reach her, she threw the locket to the ground with all her might. With a sickening crack, the delicate piece shattered into a dozen fragments, scattering across the pavement. “No!” Seeing the one thing my mother had died for destroyed so carelessly, I felt a pain so sharp it stole the air from my lungs. “You are an animal!” I lost control. I lunged forward and slapped Lily across the face with all my strength. “You fucking bitch, you dare hit me?” she shrieked, clutching her cheek. “Get her! Teach this slut a lesson! Whoever does the best job gets a million dollars!” That was all the incentive the mob needed. They descended on me, kicking and punching. “How dare you hit Lily? She’s the future Mrs. CEO of Apex Corporation! Who the hell do you think you are?” “It was just a stupid necklace! You probably earned it on your back anyway. Just sleep with a few more men, and you can buy another one. What’s the big deal?” “Shameless mistress! First you steal another woman’s husband, and now you attack his wife? You really think you can get away with it?” Even our old teacher snuck in a couple of kicks while I was down. I was beaten to the ground, shaking with rage. “You will all regret this!” I spat through gritted teeth. My threat was met with howls of laughter. “This isn’t high school anymore, Aria! You think being the top student makes you special?” “You’re nothing but trash society left behind! A prostitute threatening us? That’s hilarious!” “A mistress needs to know her place! When you get hit, you stay down!” “You shameless whore! Stealing a classmate’s husband… have you no decency? If I were you, I’d have killed myself by now!” They pinned me to the ground, taunting and humiliating me as the crowd of onlookers continued to spit and jeer. Lily, surrounded by her adoring followers, stepped forward and ground her heel into my face. “Regret? I’ve never regretted a single thing in my life. I can’t wait to see how a pathetic slut like you is going to make me regret anything!” Just as the words left her mouth, a fleet of over a hundred luxury cars screeched to a halt in front of the crowd. The doors opened, and Ethan Harvey, followed by a team of men in sharp suits, stepped out.

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Seven years after he left to study abroad, the boy I’d loved my whole life finally came home to introduce his new girlfriend to his parents. That same week, my doctors finally announced that my seven-year battle with cancer had failed. I could go home to die. When Sherman saw me being wheeled out by my mother, a cruel smirk touched his lips. “Well, well. Seven years, and look at you,” he sneered. “So pathetic you can’t even walk on your own two feet.” Hearing the contempt in his voice, I just quietly pulled down the sleeve of my jacket, hiding the dense constellation of needle marks on the back of my hand. “It’s nothing,” I said softly. “I just fell and broke a bone.” He let out another sharp, mocking laugh. “Is that so? Well, in that case, since I’m getting married soon, you can be my fiancée’s bridesmaid.” I managed a faint, calm smile. “I can’t. I’m going somewhere very far away soon.” With that, I patted my mother’s hand, a silent signal for her to push me home. 1 As soon as we got home, my mom helped me into bed. It wasn’t long before Sherman’s mother showed up. She stepped into my room, her eyes darting toward me, her words hesitant. “Nina,” she began, “I… I have an enormous favor to ask.” Her face was flushed. She didn’t have to say the rest. I already knew. It was the same as seven years ago. The memory was seared into my mind. The day I was diagnosed, she had burst into my hospital room, her expression a frantic mix of urgency and guilt. I hadn’t even had a chance to process the word “cancer.” I was hysterical, sobbing with terror, when she fell to her knees in front of me. “Nina, I’m begging you,” she’d pleaded, her voice a desperate whisper. “Don’t drag Sherman down with you. He just got his acceptance letter. If he finds out you’re sick, he’ll never go.” “You and Sherman grew up together, you’ve been in love for years. Please, for my sake, don’t ruin his future. Break up with him. Please.” “I’ve already figured it all out. I’ve arranged for a boy to meet you. All you have to do is pretend to kiss him downstairs. Let Sherman ‘catch’ you. Then just… break his heart.” Because of her words, the first thing I did after my diagnosis wasn’t schedule treatments or see a specialist. It was to stage a betrayal. To coldly, cruelly break Sherman’s heart and force him out of the country. And now, just as I expected, her voice dropped to a conspiratorial, guilt-laden whisper. “Nina, don’t blame me. I have no choice. Sherman’s new girlfriend… they were classmates through his Master’s and PhD programs. They’re a perfect match in every way. I just… I can’t let such a perfect marriage fall apart.” “You know how much Sherman has always cared for you. If… if he finds out the truth about what happened back then, I’m afraid… I’m afraid he’ll…” “So, could you please just avoid him for a little while? I mean… you’re dying, aren’t you? It’s not like you should be going out much anyway.” The word “dying” hung in the air. My mother, who had been quietly organizing my medical supplies, slammed a package of adult diapers onto the bed in a flash of fury. Seeing the rage in her eyes, I quickly grabbed her arm, my touch a weak, placating gesture. Only then did I turn back to Sherman’s mother, my voice steady. “I can promise you I won’t tell Sherman the truth about what happened seven years ago,” I said. “But I can’t promise I won’t see him.” I couldn’t. For seven brutal years, there wasn’t a single moment I didn’t think of him. When the chemo became unbearable, I would clutch the old photo of us, his arm slung around my shoulder, and somehow find the strength to endure. I went through dozens of surgeries. More than once, I was rushed to the ICU, and I almost didn’t wake up. It was my mother’s voice that pulled me back. She would stand by my bedside, screaming until her voice was raw. “Nina, don’t you remember? You promised you would live! You promised you would go find him and clear up the misunderstanding yourself!” “You said that when you got better, I would take you to him! If you die, you will never see Sherman again!” Her desperate cries, always with his name, were the lifeline that dragged me back from the edge, time and time again. But in the end, I still lost the fight. And Sherman… he had a new life now. A new girlfriend. A new future. Still, in the little time I had left, couldn’t I just be near him for a while? That’s why, when the doctor told me leaving the hospital was a death sentence, I pushed myself out of bed anyway. I had to. I knew he was home. 2 I thought that would be the end of it. But after sending Sherman’s mother away, I drifted into an exhausted sleep. When I woke up, I heard his voice coming from the living room. I was surprised. Seven years ago, his hatred for me was a physical thing. He had stood outside my door for three days and three nights, waiting for a chance to grab me by the throat and demand to know why I’d betrayed him. When I’d finally sobbed that I just didn’t love him anymore, he’d shattered the hallway window with a single, bloody punch. He hadn’t laid a hand on me, but his disgust was a wall between us. If he saw me in the hallway, he would turn and walk the other way. He stopped going to the little corner store we used to love. The mere mention of my name would make him scowl. “Why are you talking about Nina? The name makes me sick.” The day he left for the airport, I ran through a downpour just to see him one last time. He saw me, and a bitter sneer crossed his face. He took off the matching ring we’d bought together, pulled out his phone—the one filled with all our photos—and smashed them both on the ground at my feet. Then he walked away without a backward glance. And yet, here he was. In my house. Peeking through the crack in my bedroom door, I understood. He was holding his fiancée’s hand. “Mom,” he was saying to my mother, “is it because of what happened seven years ago? Is that why you won’t let Nina help me pick out a wedding planner, or rings?” “It’s okay. I’m over her. We grew up together, after all. If we can’t be lovers, we can at least be friends.” His fiancée, Sophie, chimed in, her voice sweet. “It’s true. Sherman told me all about what happened with Nina. I know she cheated, but they were young. It takes two to tango. I’m sure Sherman wasn’t perfect either.” She smiled brightly. “Besides, I should thank her! If she hadn’t given up on Sherman, I never would have met such a wonderful man.” “So really, there’s no need to dwell on the past. And it was my idea to ask for her help. We’ve been out of the country for so long, we don’t know anything about the vendors here. And, well… letting our parents decide everything… their taste is a little… dated.” Seven years ago, my greatest wish was for Sherman to forget me, to move on. But now, hearing him talk about it all so calmly, hearing that he had told his new girlfriend everything… a thousand tiny needles pricked at my heart. My mother, however, was not so composed. Hearing Sophie’s passive-aggressive digs, her face flushed with a deep, furious red. Her lips trembled. “You’re just as shameless as your mother!” she finally roared at Sherman. My heart seized. I pushed myself up. “Mom!” I called out, my voice weak. “Come in here. Help me into my wheelchair. I’ll talk to him myself.” 3 My mother came in, her expression still stormy. But when she saw me sitting up, the fight seemed to drain out of her. I reached out and hugged her. “Please, Mom,” I whispered. “Just let me have this. It’s my last wish.” Her eyes welled with tears, but she, who had always indulged me, went to my vanity. She brought back my lipstick, my wig, and helped me into my jacket. The moment she wheeled me out, Sherman’s brow furrowed. “What is wrong with you?” he said, his voice sharp. “You were always so dramatic as a kid, and you’re even worse now. It’s just a broken leg. Your mom is not young. Do you have to make her wait on you hand and foot?” The disgust on his face was plain to see. I just smiled faintly. “The doctor said it’s a bad break. I’m not supposed to put any weight on it for a while.” Sophie stepped forward. “Don’t mind Sherman,” she said with a dismissive wave. “He’s just used to being blunt from his time abroad. He’s like this with everyone… except me.” Another pang of bitterness shot through me. It was true, he was always gruff. But with me, he used to be… I pushed the thought away and looked at Sophie. “Are you sure you want my help?” “Of course, of course!” she chirped. After a few more minutes of strained small talk, I sent them on their way. That evening, Sherman called. He told me to be ready tomorrow morning; we were going to see the wedding planner. My fingers gripped the phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. I was greedy for the sound of his voice, but terrified at the same time. It had been seven years since I’d heard him like this, just the two of us on the phone. Back then, I used to fall asleep every night to the low, comforting rumble of his voice in my ear. I was lost in the memory when a woman’s voice shattered the silence from his end. “Sherman, come dry my hair…” I snapped back to reality and managed a quick, “Okay.” The moment I answered, he hung up. Listening to the dead dial tone, tears I didn’t know I was holding back began to fall. I knew this was coming. But seeing it, hearing it… knowing he belonged to someone else now… the pain was a physical, aching thing. 4 Sherman had told me to be ready at 10 a.m. I was so anxious that I had my mom wheel me downstairs at 9:30. We waited. And waited. By noon, he still hadn’t shown up. When I tried to call, he declined it. My mother tried to coax me back inside several times, but I refused. Getting out of the house had taken every last ounce of my strength. I knew that after this, I might never leave again. Finally, at 1 p.m., he called. They were coming down. My mom was furious, but I pleaded with her until she managed to paste on a neutral expression. As soon as I was in the car, Sophie turned to me with a saccharine smile. “Sorry about that, Nina. Sherman and I were… up a little too late last night. I just couldn’t drag myself out of bed this morning.” My hand clenched in my lap. Sherman, after stowing my wheelchair in the trunk, glanced at me in the rearview mirror as he got into the driver’s seat. “Why are you explaining anything to her?” he said coldly to Sophie. The familiar ache returned. I just turned and waved to my mom through the window. He drove fast, the car lurching in a way that made my stomach churn. I bit my lip and endured it. I remembered how it used to be. After he got his license, he would always borrow his dad’s car to take me out. He knew I got carsick, so he drove so smoothly, so carefully. I got sick in taxis, on buses, but never, not once, in his car. He slammed on the brakes, and my weak body was thrown hard against the back of the seat. A wave of nausea washed over me, and a small whimper escaped my lips. From the front seat, I heard his mocking laugh. “You don’t actually think I’m still going to drive carefully for you, do you, Nina? No sudden stops, no speeding up?” I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “No,” I said, my voice quiet. “You should be careful for Sophie. She’s your girlfriend now.” “You’re damn right she is,” he sneered, and stomped on the accelerator. My body slammed back into the seat again, my back screaming in protest. But I smiled. At least there was hate. At least, while I was still alive, I occupied some small, dark corner of his heart.

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Me and my sister found two snakes. The black one looked like a god in scale-form. The moment he saw my sister, Bella, he wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet. That left me with the little white snake, who looked like he was knocking on death’s door. In my past life, I pitied him. I took him home, nursed him back to health, and basically became his servant. The black snake shifted into a human within a year—tall, dark, and handsome—and treated Bella like a queen. Meanwhile, I was busting my ass working odd jobs to feed myself and that useless white noodle. I was well past marrying age, but no guy wanted me because I carried a snake everywhere. They all said, “Ditch the reptile, and maybe we’ll talk.” I beat them all off with a broom. I used to pet his little head and whisper, “Even if you never shift, I won’t abandon you. I picked you, so I’m responsible for you.” Then the flash flood hit. My sickly white snake, who had been useless for ten years, suddenly transformed into a majestic dragon overnight. I reached out from the drowning currents, desperate for him to catch me. But he flew past me and scooped up Bella. It turned out, the first person he ever laid eyes on was her. It turned out, he learned to shift way before the black snake did; he just enjoyed watching me struggle. I open my eyes. I’m back. I look down at the dying white snake in my hand. And I yeet him into the dirt. 1 “Raven, look at this white one! He’s top-tier. He’s definitely gonna turn into a dragon someday and spoil you rotten!” Bella pressed the white snake into my palm, her voice dripping with fake sweetness. “You know Mrs. Higgins next door found one just like this ten years ago? That snake ascended and took her whole family up to the high life. Don’t forget your big sis when you’re rich, okay?” The villagers chimed in, right on cue. “Raven, you’re too soft! Everyone knows white snakes are more likely to become dragons! Bella isn’t as gentle as you, and let’s be honest, she’s the pretty one. You’re the one who needs the luck!” Bella put on a pouty face, then forced a brave smile. “It’s okay. I’m the older sister. It’s my job to take care of Raven.” I frowned. If you looked closely, the white snake was barely breathing. The black snake, on the other hand, had scales that shimmered like obsidian under the sun. The villagers were clueless, but Bella knew. She knew damn well which snake was the winning lottery ticket. In my last life, I didn’t call her out. I saw a dying creature and couldn’t walk away. But now? Watching the white snake bare his tiny fangs at me in my palm, I just felt sick. Before, I thought it was a stress reaction. Now I know—he just hated me. Splat. I threw the white snake onto a jagged rock, adjusted my basket, and walked away. “Raven!” Bella shrieked, scrambling to scoop up the snake. “How could you?! It’s a living creature!” “Life has its limits,” I said without looking back. “If he dies today, that’s just fate.” “Raven!” Bella stomped her foot. “You’re so cold-blooded! Are you really just going to watch him die?” The villagers stared at me, their judgment heavy and loud. “She’s got a rotten heart, that one. Bella is the beauty with the soul to match.” “Exactly. Look at Raven, plain as dirt and heart just as black.” I gripped the strap of my basket. I turned around. Bella was teary-eyed, playing the peacemaker, which only made everyone pity her more. She always did this. Handed me the short end of the stick, then acted like the martyr. I laughed. “Since you’re so saintly, Bella, why don’t you take both of them?” Bella froze. Her eyes darted around. “I… how could I hog such a blessing?” “It’s fine. Take ’em. When he ascends to godhood, I won’t ask for a ride.” Bella choked on her words. The white snake was hurt bad; healing him would cost a fortune in herbs and time. But the villagers were already pivoting. “Raven’s got no luck anyway. Bella should have it!” “Yeah, Bella, don’t let that ingrate have him!” Bella hesitated. “But his injuries…” Suddenly, a blinding white light exploded in the clearing. Everyone gasped. I whipped around. A man in white robes stood there, looking like a literal god. A trace of blood at the corner of his mouth only made him look more devastatingly beautiful. The crowd stopped breathing. I froze too. Lucien… he shifted? 2 My nails dug into my palms. I thought he learned to shift after I saved him. But no. He could always do it. All those years, he watched me get mocked for carrying a “dumb snake,” and he never lifted a finger. Now, at his weakest moment, he forced a transformation just to impress Bella. “Injuries don’t matter! I’ll take responsibility!” Bella screamed, her hesitation gone. If he could shift, ascension wasn’t far off. The villagers were drooling over Lucien’s god-tier looks. No one doubted he was the next big thing. They laughed at my stupidity and praised Bella’s kindness. Bella stepped in front of Lucien, blocking my view, acting like she was protecting him from me. “Raven, you said you didn’t want him. I tried to convince you, but… well, I guess I have to take him in.” “Don’t explain yourself to her, Bella! She gave him up! If she tries to take him back, we’ll run her out of town!” “Oh stop…” Bella blushed. “Raven isn’t like that…” I stared coldly at Lucien. He looked past the crowd, locking eyes with me. That desperate, forced transformation. That look—it wasn’t the look of a stranger. He was reborn too. When I turned and walked away without a second glance, confusion flashed in his eyes. And shock. The whole village was buzzing about how I fumbled the bag. Lucien was the talk of the town. Everyone was waiting for him to ascend. They waited for me to regret it, to come crawling back. But I never looked at him again. Until one day, I was walking down a path, and a hand grabbed my wrist. I tried to yank it away, but he held tighter. He frowned at me, silent. His eyes were asking a question. Maybe even demanding an answer. Why don’t you love me this time? Did he really not know? I couldn’t pull free, so I pried his fingers off mine, one by one. Then I shook my aching wrist and walked off, cursing under my breath. Lucien stared at his hand, then at my retreating back. His eyes reddened. I guess when you’re used to being someone’s entire world, indifference feels like betrayal. In my past life, I carried him through storms. I thought we had a bond. Walking away hurt my heart, physically. But that night, thirsty for water, I passed by the guest room and heard whispering. “My Lord, if you feel regret toward the Second Miss… why not take her as a spirit pet?” I peered through the crack in the door. Lucien stood with his hands behind his back, looking like a statue carved from jade. “Since I have been granted a second chance, I must fix my regrets.” A shadowy figure knelt behind him. “But… your brother has already chosen the Eldest Miss.” “So what?” Lucien turned. His eyes, usually cold, burned with possessiveness. “I came to this life for her. Nothing will stop me from being with her. Not even my brother.” I rolled my eyes and turned to leave. But then the subordinate asked, “May I ask, My Lord… why are you so obsessed with a mortal woman?” Lucien’s voice went soft, dripping with nostalgia. “At Wyrmwood Creek, when I was near death, I will never forget how she lifted me with her own hands. She guarded me for forty-nine days. Without her, I would be nothing but snake bones.” Wyrmwood Creek?! I froze. That… that was where I saved a little white snake. I guarded him for forty-nine days. I never told anyone. So… the snake I saved there and the snake I brought home were the same snake? I clenched my fist and let out a silent, bitter laugh. Lucien, you absolute moron. I had no intention of claiming the credit. In this life, I had bigger plans than playing nursemaid to a reptile. 3 I stopped going to the mountains to pick herbs. I stayed in my room, studying. Until the annual Spring Gala. Bella dragged me out. “It’s the Gala, Raven! If you don’t go, the Flower Goddess won’t bless you!” Flower Goddess? Blessings? I glanced at the history book on my desk, thought for a second, and nodded. “I got you an outfit! Throw away those rags. You need to look pretty!” She handed me a bag. I opened it later that evening. It was a hideous red floral shirt with neon green pants. It looked like a clown threw up on a Christmas tree. But when I went to find my other clothes, they were gone. Hungry and out of options, I put on the clown suit and went out to find food. I ran straight into Bella and her posse. She was wearing sheer silk, looking ethereal. “Oh my god,” one girl gasped. “Does she think she looks good?” “Ugly people really try the hardest. Is she trying to steal Bella’s thunder by looking like a joke?” “Haha, well she succeeded. Bella’s dress is made of celestial silk gifted by Lord Lucien. Raven isn’t fit to wipe her shoes.” “Stop it, everyone!” Bella rushed over, looking horrified. “Raven, why are you wearing that? It’s my fault… I didn’t prepare well enough for you.” Her eyes welled up with tears. The crowd immediately started comforting her. “Bella, it’s not your fault she has no taste!” “Yeah, where would she find a sister as good as you? It’s her own choice to look like trash.” “Are you done acting?” I asked loudly. The crowd went silent. I stepped up to her minions. “You said you don’t believe this is my only outfit? Bella, do you dare tell everyone who took all my clothes?” Bella choked. In the past, I would have walked away. Not today. “That silk looks nice on you, Bella. Even if the snake gave it to you, you must have added your own touch. So why did someone with such ‘high taste’ pick this garbage for me?” Bella covered her mouth. “Raven… are you doubting me?” “Stop playing the victim!” I swatted her hand away. “If you’re so innocent, let’s go to your room right now and see if my clothes are stuffed in your closet!” Bella turned pale. I grabbed her arm to drag her back, but she pulled away, sobbing. “Raven! Even if I did… doing this is tearing our sisterhood apart!” “Let’s just look.” I reached for the door. Suddenly, a sharp pain shot through my wrist. Two puncture marks. A snake bite. Suddenly, my mouth moved on its own. “What’s wrong with red and green? I’m prettier than Bella anyway… I want everyone to know she’s an ugly hag! I bet everyone will still protect her even if I throw this trash in her face!” I clamped my hand over my mouth. The crowd’s gaze shifted from pity to disgust. “I knew it! She’s a jealous psycho!” One of Bella’s friends slapped me across the face. The mob swarmed, pulling my hair, tearing my ugly clothes. “You don’t deserve anything Bella gives you!” I stumbled back and ran. Before I turned the corner, I saw Lucien appear next to Bella, pulling her into his arms. His cold eyes bore into me. Bella was weeping into his chest, hiding her smirk. I rubbed my throbbing wrist where a white shadow had flashed moments before. I gritted my teeth. 4 While I recovered at home, Lucien actually came to my room. I swiped the medicine he brought off the table. It shattered. He looked at me with a complicated expression. He picked up a pill, grabbed my jaw, and forced it down my throat. “Spit it out and you die,” he threatened. I swallowed the antidote. My head cleared instantly. He waited a moment, ensuring the truth serum or whatever hex he used wore off. “Do you have nothing to say to me?” he asked at the door. He knew I was reborn. I hadn’t said a word to him since I woke up. I closed my eyes. “No.” He stared at me for a long time before closing the door. My reputation in the village was trash. I was the “Jealous Ugly Sister.” I disappeared for a while. Everyone said I ran away out of shame. But I came back. Bella, glowing with health thanks to Lucien’s care, patted my shoulder patronizingly. “Raven, I know you’re jealous. But you have to accept your lot in life. Accusing me in public was wrong. Don’t covet what isn’t yours. Lucien loves me. I can’t control that.” I shoved her aside. She shrieked and fell conveniently into Lucien’s arms as he walked in. “Raven, I was just trying to welcome you home…” she sobbed. Lucien frowned, shielding her. “Bella, apologize.” I laughed coldly. He looked dark. “Come at me if you have a problem. You can’t force love. I chose her. Stop hurting her behind my back while pretending you don’t care!” Just then, drums and gongs sounded outside. Officials in red robes marched in, beaming. “Congratulations to Miss Raven! First place in the Provincial Exam! Your policy essay was read by the Emperor himself! He summons you to the capital!” “The Exam?” Bella gasped. “Raven… a woman… you took the State Exam?” 5 I smirked. “The Emperor opened the exams to women this year. I guess you were too busy scheming to notice the news.” I walked past Lucien. “You’re wrong, Lucien. My goal was never you. Getting over you was easy. Compared to my career and the fate of the nation? You’re insignificant.” Lucien stopped breathing. He looked at me like he’d seen a ghost. In his last life, I rejected every suitor for him. Now, I discarded him like a used tissue. He couldn’t process it. But I wasn’t here to manage his ego. I took the golden scroll. Bella tried to touch my sleeve, but I dodged. “Don’t cross the line, sister.” The official scowled at her. “Bold! This is the Emperor’s top scholar! Kneel!” Bella, red-faced and humiliated, was forced to her knees by imperial authority. The official handed me a heavy bag of gold. “Be at the capital by the 7th of next month! The court covers all expenses. With your talent, you’ll likely skip the preliminaries. Don’t forget us little people when you’re Prime Minister!” The villagers slapped their own faces in shock. “Is Second Girl gonna seek revenge on us?”

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I was convinced my husband’s son hated my guts. He would always watch me from a distance, his gaze a dark, unnerving stare from the shadows. Then, I stumbled upon a trending post on a local forum. [If my parents get divorced, how do I get my mom to take me?] [She’s not my birth mom, but I like her.] [The kitten wasn’t born from her either, but the kitten gets to stay with her. Why can’t I?] [Can a person turn into a kitten?] Sensing the poster was just a kid, some users decided to tease him. [Why don’t you try forging a paternity test?] A few days later, six-year-old Leo Hayes, holding a DNA test report, knocked on my bedroom door. 1 Just before I saw that post, I was instructing the staff on organizing the seasonal wardrobe change. Not too far away, Leo was hiding behind a wall, half of his little head peeking out, his dark eyes fixed on me. I sighed. I honestly had no idea how to connect with my stepson. His father, Joe Hayes, and I were in a marriage of convenience. He was consumed by his work and worried the staff would mistreat his son. My family’s business was on the brink of collapse, desperate for a lifeline. It was a perfect match. Before the wedding, Joe warned me that his son was… unique. Quiet. He asked me to be patient and just make sure the staff didn’t bully him. So, on my first day as lady of the house, I had security cameras installed in all the common areas. I tried to talk to Leo, to draw him out, but he remained cold and distant. That all changed the day I fired the nanny who had raised him since he was a baby. He cried his eyes out. And from that day on, he was always there, in the distance, staring at me from the shadows. I was racking my brain for a way to bridge the gap between us when the algorithm blessed me with that post. At first, the title seemed like a call for help. [Evil stepmom has moved in. How does a smart kid fight back and not get bullied?] It was clearly from a child’s perspective. I clicked on it out of curiosity. The poster’s mix of childish innocence and adult-like phrasing was oddly charming. He described his family as wealthy, a single dad with a young son who had just remarried. But the more I read, the more a strange feeling crept over me. The details were uncannily similar to my own situation with Leo. The only difference was the poster’s reaction. Take the nanny incident, for example. The poster wrote: [Battle report: That woman fired the nanny who’s taken care of me my whole life. I cried.] The comments exploded. [WTF, I thought this was a joke post, but this is a real evil stepmom! It’s only been a few days and she already got rid of his childhood nanny?!] [Dude, slow down. But a lifelong nanny? This kid is definitely rich. The new wife is probably a gold digger. She’ll have her own kid, push this one out, and turn him into a useless brat to secure the inheritance.] [Poster, you’re in danger!] [I’ve got a whole library of novels about evil stepmom schemes. Want me to send you some for research?] [Poor baby. You must be so heartbroken right now.] The poster replied: [I’m not heartbroken.] [I cried because I was so happy.] [That horrible nanny is finally gone!] [She never let me dress myself. She even insisted on spoon-feeding me, going on about how I was a ‘precious little prince’ born to be pampered. Before that woman arrived, the nanny kept bad-mouthing her and telling me how much better her own niece was, how she’d be a much better fit to take care of me.] [It was so annoying. I told her to stop, but she never listened, so I gave up.] [I’m so glad that woman got rid of her.] Someone asked why he didn’t just tell his dad. The poster: [Dad is really busy. I don’t want to be a burden. I have to be considerate.] Reading that, my heart ached a little. The other users were flooded with sympathy. Then, one user commented: [This sounds a bit off. Is it possible the stepmom saw what was happening and fired the nanny to help you?] [So the stepmom is actually a good person?] [Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. It could have been a villainous plot that backfired and accidentally did some good.] The poster: [I don’t know if she’s a good person. She makes me dress and feed myself now…] [She doesn’t even care that I’m a picky eater. My old nanny would always force me to eat my celery. Today, she just watched me pick it out and didn’t say a word.] A user replied: [You’re too innocent, kid. This is probably a classic move to make you weak and dependent.] [I have an idea. A test to see if your stepmom is truly good.] [You seem smart and articulate for your age, so here’s the plan. If she’s really after the inheritance, she won’t want you to be successful. So, you need to show a deep, passionate love for learning. See if she tries to sabotage you.] The thread was full of praise for this user’s genius plan. The original poster didn’t reply. At this point, I wasn’t so sure anymore. Leo hadn’t exactly been acting like a budding scholar around me. Was it all just a coincidence? Just then, my phone rang. 2 It was Joe. His voice was laced with exhaustion, but still gentle. “How are you settling in? Is Leo giving you any trouble?” I glanced toward the corner. The little head had vanished. “No, he’s been an angel.” “That’s good,” Joe paused. “I saw you let Mrs. Gable go. Good call.” I was surprised. Mrs. Gable was a fixture in the Hayes household, having been with the family since Joe was a boy. “She’s been getting more and more out of line over the years,” he explained. “Using her seniority to meddle in family affairs. She was the one who kept trying to set you up with other people before we met, acting on her own.” “I’ve been wanting to fire her for a while, but I was worried about how Leo would take it. You solved a real problem for me.” I finally understood. Firing the nanny had been an unintentional favor to him. “Leo cried,” I said. “I thought he was going to miss her terribly.” A soft chuckle came from the other end of the line. “Oh, he was crying with joy. Don’t let him fool you. That kid… he keeps everything bottled up inside.” After we hung up, I was almost certain. The poster was Leo. All this time, his dark, gloomy stares weren’t because he hated me. He was observing me. I refreshed the page and saw a new update. [Dad called me tonight. He praised that woman.] [I’m even happier now.] [Tomorrow, I’m going to test her. I’ll find out if she’s really on my side.] [If she’s a good person, then it’s time for the next phase of my plan!] The comments section went wild again. [What plan? Tell us more!] [I’m guessing it’s a plan to secure the inheritance!] [Dude, he’s six. What does he know about inheritance? He probably just wants his stepmom to genuinely care about him.] [Yeah, totally! This is gonna be good. You got this, kid! We’re all behind you!] I couldn’t help but smile at the screen. Alright, Leo Hayes. Let’s see what kind of test you have in store for me tomorrow. The next morning, I came downstairs to find Leo sitting on the living room sofa, a complete departure from his usual lurking. He was dressed in a sharp little suit, his hair neatly combed. Cradled in his arms was a book bigger than his face. The title read, An Introduction to Quantum Physics. I bit back a laugh. A bit much, don’t you think? The moment he saw me, he sat up ramrod straight, held the book up to his face, and pretended to be engrossed in reading. But his eyes kept darting in my direction. I suppressed my amusement and sat down beside him. “Reading, Leo?” He flinched, then gave a tiny nod, his voice as quiet as a mosquito. “Yeah.” “Do you understand it?” His face turned bright red. He clutched the book tighter and said nothing. I leaned in for a closer look. Oh, for goodness’ sake. The book was upside down. I was fighting a losing battle against laughter. So this was his master plan to “show a deep, passionate love for learning”? It was ridiculously adorable. I cleared my throat, deciding to play along with his little act.

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1 My CEO husband’s secretary, Bunny, always referred to herself in the third person. During a billion-dollar negotiation, she took our key client to a filthy street food stall. The oil was black, the meat was turning bad, and the client got severe food poisoning on the spot. Bunny just giggled and stuck her tongue out at me. “Oopsie! Bunny thinks she messed up Sister’s wittle project. But Bunny twied her best, so she’s still the bestest, wight?” My husband, Caleb, rushed to comfort her. “It’s fine. Consider it practice for Bunny.” He dismissed me with a look. “Even if you’d landed this deal, your dying company wouldn’t last another year. Just let it go bankrupt.” “And before you do,” he added, “don’t forget Bunny’s bonus—a hundred or two hundred thousand for her help.” No wonder he was so calm. He thought it was my company’s project that failed. I smiled and nodded. After all, the company about to collapse wasn’t mine. … Seeing me agree so readily, Caleb stared at me for a long moment, surprised. Finally, he let out a condescending chuckle. “You know, Serena, your problem is you’re incredibly petty.” “Even though you’re agreeing, I know you’re fuming inside. It’s that kind of small-minded, short-sighted attitude that’s holding you back from ever achieving anything great.” Bunny pouted beside him, a taunting smile in her wide, stupid eyes. “Huh? Bunny doesn’t understand.” “Caleb-waleb, why are you being mean to Sister? She didn’t say she was unhappy.” Caleb snorted. “You think I don’t know her? She’s a master of saying one thing and meaning another.” Bunny hid behind Caleb, her voice a petulant whine. “So you’re a bad woman! You lied to Bunny!” I watched their little duet with a deadpan expression. No matter what I did, Caleb always found a reason to be dissatisfied. He glared at me, his voice a command. “How could you lie to someone as kind and innocent as Bunny? Do you have a conscience?” “Make her bonus five hundred thousand! As compensation. Not a penny less, you hear me?” I almost burst out laughing. It was ridiculous. This was a sure-thing deal we had secured long ago; today’s lunch was just a formality before signing the contracts. And Bunny’s moronic stunt had flushed it all down the toilet. She’d cost the company hundreds of millions in losses—enough bad debt to bankrupt a smaller firm. And for that, she was getting a reward? Fine. It was Caleb’s company. If he wasn’t worried, why should I be? I nodded eagerly and immediately had my assistant draw up the bonus application for Bunny. I held the tablet out to Caleb. “Mr. Thorne, I just need your signature for approval.” He frowned. “It’s your company’s money. Why do I need to sign?” I lied without blinking. “Even though it’s my company, it’s technically our joint marital property. Five hundred thousand is no small sum. Of course, I need your approval.” As Caleb’s brow furrowed in suspicion, Bunny started tugging at his sleeve. With half a million dollars dangling in front of her, her eyes were practically bugging out of her head. “Caleb-waleb, are you done yet? Let’s go eat.” “Bunny barely ate anything taking care of the client. My tummy hurts from being so hungry.” Instantly, all of Caleb’s attention was back on her. He scribbled his signature without a second look. Then, with an arm around Bunny’s shoulders, he shoved me aside. I wasn’t angry at all. I took a moment to admire Caleb’s flourishing signature on the document. Caleb had always been a hands-off CEO who knew nothing about the business. When he saw my company doing well, he’d dumped his own failing enterprise on me. He called it “an opportunity to develop my skills.” When I took over, his company was an empty, dilapidated shell. After a year of back-breaking work, I finally found this one golden opportunity that could make it soar. And his precious Bunny had ruined it all in a single afternoon. I hoped Caleb would be just as carefree when he realized it was his company on the verge of bankruptcy. I took the signed e-document straight to his company’s finance department. The accountant’s face went pale as she processed the transfer. The company had sunk nearly all of its liquid capital into this deal. Another half-million out the door would cripple its basic operations. But what did that have to do with me? After tying up the loose ends, I headed back to the hospital. Outside, I received a text from Bunny. “Good girl. Glad you knew to send the money.” “Bitch, is your company going bankrupt now that the deal is dead? Congrats!” She was in for a disappointment. I was going to save the deal, of course. It just wouldn’t be under Caleb’s name. I pushed open the door to the private room. “Mr. Sterling, I am so sorry about what happened today.” Mr. Sterling looked displeased, but not with me. “You don’t need to blame yourself. Honestly, if you hadn’t brokered this, I never would have considered giving the project to Caleb Thorne in the first place.” “Serena, do you understand what I’m saying?” My eyes flickered. I quickly changed the subject. “Mr. Sterling, to express my sincere apology, I’ve arranged a VIP suite for you. Please rest and recover. From now on, I will personally oversee every aspect of our collaboration.” I put special emphasis on the word “our.” Mr. Sterling nodded, satisfied. By the time I returned to my own office with the newly signed contract, Caleb and Bunny were already there. Bunny tossed a hotel key card onto my desk with a smirk. “I heard your company is in trouble, so I pulled some strings with a big boss for you. You can chat about an acquisition.” “If Sister works hard, maybe you can even sell for a little more, hmm?” My face went cold. I looked at Caleb. “I am still your legal wife!” “What is the meaning of this?” He saw no issue with Bunny’s blatant humiliation. Instead, he scowled at me. “Don’t be so ungrateful! Bunny heard you were in a bind and went out of her way to find someone for you. With the mess you’re in, you’re lucky to find a buyer at all!” I remembered when we were just starting out. Caleb had said we would build two companies and always have each other’s backs. That no matter how hard things got, we would never abandon one another. Ever since Bunny arrived, a chasm had grown between us. And now, before we’d even hit rock bottom, he could say something like this. A chill crept into my heart. “My company is in trouble, and you won’t help me? What about your promise?” Caleb exploded. “Serena, so that’s it! You were only with me for my money, waiting for me to bail you out!” He pointed at the key card. “This is just a reservation card for a business lounge! Do you think Bunny is as dirty-minded as you?” “Besides, this was a test for you.” His voice was dripping with self-righteousness. “If you had fought with everything you had and still failed, I would have helped you.” “But unfortunately, you failed my test.” Caleb slapped a post-nuptial property division agreement on the table. “Sign it. I’m deeply disappointed in you. I have no obligation to pay for your mistakes.” He wanted to completely sever his company from mine. I gave him a long, meaningful look. “Fortunes can turn on a dime in this business. When your company needs a lifeline, can you promise you won’t come to me?” Bunny burst into a fit of giggles, collapsing into Caleb’s arms. “Sister, you should focus on cleaning up your own mess first!” “Oh my god, Bunny has never met someone with so little self-awareness!” Caleb’s lips curled into a mocking smile. “You?” “Serena, don’t make a fool of yourself. Sign the agreement. When you’re truly broke, I might let you be a housewife. Don’t be so greedy.” My heart turned to ice. I signed the document without a word. Then I pulled out the divorce papers. “I’ve signed. Now you sign this.” “And I hope you remember what you said today.” Caleb froze for a second, then chuckled. “Playing hard to get? Who taught you that trick?” “You don’t actually think I’m going to beg you to stay, do you?” When I just stared at him, he slowly signed his name. He shot me one last contemptuous look. “Serena, I’m waiting for the day you come crawling back, begging me not to leave you.” With that, he left, Bunny trotting gleefully behind him. I immediately took the papers to my lawyer to start the divorce proceedings. I couldn’t wait another second. To keep Caleb from discovering the truth about his company, I had to pretend I was really looking for a buyer. I contacted the person Bunny had recommended. We met at the business lounge that weekend. The man across from me didn’t beat around the bush. “Sweetheart, I hear your company’s going bankrupt. Ten thousand dollars. I’ll buy it.” I laughed. It was insulting. Even on the brink of collapse, Caleb’s company, which I had slaved over for a year, was still worth millions. He wanted to buy my hard work for ten thousand dollars? What a joke. I rolled my eyes and stood up to leave. But when I opened the door, I came face-to-face with Bunny. “Sister, you’re not satisfied with ten thousand? That’s a fortune!” I just stared at her. “If the company were liquidated, Caleb would never settle for so little.” Bunny shoved me back into the room. “Bitch! Don’t you dare use Caleb to threaten me! You think he gives a damn about you?” “I bet you didn’t know, he set the price himself! He said you and your pathetic little company are only worth that much!” She waved her hand, and two women appeared behind her. They were the housekeepers Caleb had hired for our home. Caleb’s backing had made her utterly arrogant. “You’re signing this today, whether you like it or not!” The two women, their grips like iron, grabbed me and forced me into a chair. They pressed my thumb onto the ink pad and stamped my print on the contract. Then they pried my right hand open, trying to force me to sign. I struggled with all my might, leaving a series of frantic squiggles on the acquisition contract. Bunny clicked her tongue in annoyance. She slapped me, twice. “You want to do this the hard way? Are you going to sign or not?” My face was already swelling, but I managed a defiant smile. “You’re just a secretary Caleb is sleeping with. Why should I listen to you?” “Serena! You dare look down on me?!” Bunny saw red. She slapped me again and again, a dozen times or more. When her arm got tired, she had the housekeepers take over. They didn’t hesitate, as if they were certain Bunny was their future mistress. The slaps rained down on my face until I was on the verge of blacking out. After what felt like an eternity, Bunny grabbed me by the collar again. “I’m asking you one last time. Are. You. Signing?” My cheeks were on fire, my head spinning. “I’ll sign… I’ll sign… please, just stop…” After I signed, Bunny fished the company seal out of my bag and stamped the document. She admired the contract with a triumphant smile. I smiled with her. Because she didn’t know that the seal she had just used belonged to Caleb’s company. Just as the contract was signed, Caleb walked in. Bunny immediately snuggled up to him, seeking praise. “Wasn’t Bunny amazing? Bunny got Sister to sign the contract!” “Good job.” Caleb turned to me. He saw my face, swollen like a pig’s, and my pathetic form slumped on the floor. A flicker of pity crossed his eyes before he hardened them. “Ten thousand was more than generous. You brought this on yourself.” I used the wall to pull myself up, my face a blank mask. “You’re right.” Caleb froze, the rest of his taunt dying in his throat. “Tomorrow,” he finally said, “you will hold a press conference. You will publicly announce that your company was acquired for ten thousand dollars, and that you are leaving the industry for good.” He wanted to make me a laughingstock, to ensure I could never recover. I nodded. Caleb, thinking I had finally submitted, softened his tone slightly. “If you had just been this obedient from the start.” “Alright, after the press conference, we’ll call it even. Stop causing trouble, come home, and I won’t abandon you completely.” I pulled myself to my feet, my expression unchanged. “Yes. It’s over.” It wasn’t just this incident that was over. He was over. In my life, he was finished. Seeing me stumble, Caleb seemed to reach out to steady me. I slapped his hand away. The tiny spark of pity he’d felt for me was instantly extinguished. “Serena, and here I thought you’d learned your lesson.” “When you’re broke and come begging, if you’re not on your knees crawling and barking like a dog, I won’t even give you the time of day!” I suddenly smiled, looking back at him over my shoulder. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” “When the time comes, I’ll be sure to do the same.” I left him there, puzzling over my words, and walked out. The next day, the press conference was a hive of whispers and rumors. “I heard she had to spread her legs to find a buyer!” “Didn’t Thorne Industries just land that billion-dollar deal? Weren’t they supposed to become a major player? What happened?” “Maybe she negotiated that billion-dollar deal in bed too! And the guy just used her and dumped her! Hahaha!” In a single night, Caleb had launched a full-scale smear campaign. He and Bunny sat in the front row, waiting for the show. I was calm. “Thank you all for coming. I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors.” “But—” I extended a hand towards Caleb in the audience. “—I believe Mr. Caleb Thorne is better qualified than I am to make this announcement.” All eyes turned to him. Caleb scoffed and threw his hands up. “It seems Ms. Thorne can’t face this tragic reality. I suppose I’ll have to do it for her.” He strode onto the stage, whispering in my ear as he passed, “What, you called me up here to beg for forgiveness in public?” “That’s a bit much, even for you. You’re putting me in an awkward position.” I handed him the speech, my face impassive. “I’m not the one who’ll be kneeling. But you? We’ll see.” Caleb sneered, opened the folder, and began to read in a lazy, mocking tone. “Good morning, members of the press. Regarding the rumors of my company being acquired for ten thousand dollars—” “They are true.” The room erupted. Flashes from the cameras turned the stage into a sea of white light. Bunny was already howling with laughter, even letting out an excited whistle. Caleb basked in the moment, continuing without a thought. “Caelus Corp has been fully acquired for the price of ten thousand dollars—” “Caelus Corp? Serena, did you make a mistake?”

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