Author: Momo Chan

My CEO girlfriend, Isabella, and I were finally at that age—the marrying kind. But just as we started planning, she suddenly enacted a bizarre new company policy: To be approved for wedding leave, an employee must first demonstrate their commitment with a full month of perfect attendance. No exceptions. From that day on, Isabella—a woman who had a seven-year perfect attendance streak—developed a new catchphrase. “Bob, I’m so sorry. I was just one minute late again this month. Next month. I promise, next month I’ll marry you.” From my 29th birthday to my 32nd, in just three short years, she got into ten “accidental” car crashes that landed her in the hospital, suffered twenty-one bouts of food poisoning, and overslept five times. In short, she never managed to get that perfect attendance. At first, I was understanding, comforting. Then came the doubt, the anger. Finally, I started driving her to work myself, clearing every possible obstacle from our path. Yet, on the last day of one month, she fainted dead away just as she was stepping through the company’s front doors. That’s when a saying echoed in my mind: You can’t wake someone who’s only pretending to be asleep. After getting her to the hospital, I turned to leave. But a sliver of hope held me back. What if she was really sick? What if I was being a monster for leaving her alone? I hesitated, then turned back. And as I neared her hospital room, I heard her talking to a friend. “Isabella, there’s definitely something going on between you and that new intern, Caleb.” The casual words struck me like a bolt of lightning, knocking the air from my lungs. Isabella’s voice was laced with a nostalgic smile. “That kid’s got something. It’s been a long time since I felt that spark. Looking at Bob now is like looking at my dad. It’s just… exhausting.” “So you invented this whole perfect-attendance rule just to stall him? Aren’t you afraid he’ll find out and dump you?” “Not a chance. He’s waited for me from 24 to 32. I’m all he has. Besides,” she added, her voice dropping with casual cruelty, “he literally gave me a kidney. He’s not going anywhere. I can say a few sweet things and he’ll be eating out of my hand again.” “True. We’ve all seen how devoted he is to you. The crazy schemes he comes up with just to get you to work on time… it’s almost pathetic.” The sound of their laughter was a physical blow, a sharp, tearing pain in my chest. All my efforts, all my hopes for our future, were nothing but a joke to them. Isabella’s voice, feigning remorse, cut through my daze. “Bob, today was the last day of the month. I really thought I was going to make it. I can’t believe I failed again. I’m the worst. I swear, next month. Next month, I’ll get that perfect attendance.” Hearing those words, a bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Isabella, for three whole years, I have moved heaven and earth to help you, and you still couldn’t do it. How can you promise you’ll make it next month?” My question stunned her into silence. Her hands clenched into fists. “I’ll set my alarm earlier,” she said, her voice firm. “Three in the morning. I’ll get up at three. I can make it then.” “Bob, you have to believe me. Just one more month. I promise.” “Actually, Ms. Hayes might not be considered late today.” The sudden interruption from the HR representative silenced the room. Isabella’s face went rigid. “Not… late?” Her tone wasn’t joyful. It was pure terror. Her eyes darted nervously to Caleb, the intern, who was watching from the sidelines. “But she wasn’t all the way through the door!” Caleb blurted out. “Can that really count?” The HR rep looked conflicted. “Well, the security footage shows half her body was inside when the clock turned. But because she was falling, the sensor didn’t register her entry. It’s a tough call.” Suddenly, Caleb stumbled, knocking over a potted plant. He swayed, looking like he was about to faint himself. Isabella rushed to his side, steadying him. The moment their eyes met, fat tears rolled down his cheeks. I couldn’t see Isabella’s expression, but I saw her hand tighten on his arm. “Honestly, Ms. Hayes,” the HR rep continued, “we’ve all seen how hard you’ve tried these past three years. Maybe we can just call this one a…” “No,” Isabella cut in, her voice sharp and decisive. The office fell into a dead silence. I could feel the pity in my colleagues’ eyes. The HR rep blinked. “Ms. Hayes, are you sure?” Isabella’s expression was resolute. “As the CEO, I have to lead by example. Besides, I want to marry Bob with a clear conscience, knowing I earned it.” “Next month,” she said, turning her warm gaze on me. “I’ll definitely get it next month. I know Bob is understanding enough to wait for me.” I stared back, my face a mask of stone, and looked away. As the crowd of onlookers dispersed, I saw Isabella catch up to Caleb. “Stop crying,” she whispered. “I didn’t marry him, did I? Besides, you know he’s just a responsibility to me. I don’t even want to marry him.” Caleb’s tears magically stopped, replaced by a sullen pout, waiting for her to coax him back into a good mood. I hadn’t seen her use that kind of patience in years. I couldn’t stand to watch anymore. I walked back to my desk, pulled out my phone, and methodically cancelled the wedding venue we had on hold. Then I called off the wedding planner. The event coordinator was incredulous. “Sir, if you cancel, the next availability is over a year away. Are you absolutely sure?” I didn’t blame her for being surprised. Three years ago, I’d booked that venue with unshakeable confidence, telling them to save the best ballroom for me. After one, two, ten, thirty postponements, here I was, not getting married, but canceling. It was enough to make anyone curious. My eyes fell on the bouquet of flowers Isabella had sent to my desk as yet another apology. “I’m sure,” I said, my voice unwavering. “Cancel everything.” Before I overheard that conversation in the hospital, I’d had my doubts. I thought maybe we’d grown apart, that she had a simple fear of commitment. But I never, ever suspected betrayal. And I certainly never suspected it would be with Caleb, the “slow” and “annoying” intern she was always complaining about. “That new intern is painfully stupid. It took him three days to sort a simple file.” “Did HR have a lobotomy? Why would they hire an idiot like that?” Isabella, normally so composed, always seemed to fly into a rage whenever Caleb was mentioned. After the hospital, I did some reading. A psychology book said that lashing out like that can be a defense mechanism when you’re trying to deny a powerful attraction. A powerful attraction. Just how powerful was it? I thought back to when we first got together. She was incredible to me then. I once glanced at a watch on another guy’s wrist, and she entered a street race and won it for me. When a summer storm flooded the city, she abandoned her multi-million dollar car and waded through the floodwaters from her mansion on the hill just to get to my apartment. She was a wreck when she found me, covered in mud, but her only concern was whether I was hurt. I couldn’t understand it. How could two people who were once so in love end up here? When I got home, Isabella was already there. She threw her arms around me, pulling my cold body into a hug. “You’re freezing! You always try to look cool and never wear enough layers.” I didn’t answer. My gaze drifted to the coffee table, which was covered in trendy, greasy takeout food. “I heard from the kids at the office that you like this stuff,” she said. “I bought it all to say I’m sorry.” This was all the junk food Caleb always had at his desk. It was obvious who had “suggested” it. When I didn’t react, she tried another angle. “You know, we’re already like a real married couple. A marriage certificate is just a piece of paper, a formality. I don’t think we should be so conventional, right?” Years ago, I’d fallen for those lines. I forced myself to be the “cool, understanding boyfriend.” Now I saw that I had just let myself become a fool. “Isabella,” I started to say, but I saw her eyes were glued to her phone, a smile she couldn’t suppress playing on her lips. “Bob, something’s come up at work. I have to go,” she said, already grabbing her keys. “You go ahead and eat.” I watched her hurry out the door and then quietly scraped the entire table of greasy food into the trash. After my kidney transplant, my doctor told me to avoid greasy food. She never remembers. In the dead of night, my phone rang, jolting me awake. It was Isabella’s mother. The second I answered, her shrill voice pierced my ear. “Bob, you have three minutes. Get on every group chat and clear up this mess for Isabella. Now.” Confused, I opened my phone. It wasn’t just our company chat; it was chats with our corporate partners, too. All of them were flooded with pictures of Isabella and Caleb at a bar earlier that night. In the photos, her hand was on his thigh, their heads close together. It was damningly intimate. Isabella was the president of a major bank; her personal conduct and reputation were critical. No wonder her mother was panicking. “Ma’am,” I said coldly, “Isabella made her bed. Why is she afraid to lie in it?” My words sent her into a rage. “Don’t you take that tone with me, Bob! None of this would have happened if you weren’t such a curse! Isabella never missed a day of work in her life until she decided to marry you! Then suddenly it’s one ‘accident’ after another! Do you think that’s a coincidence?” “Honestly, a man whose own parents disowned him can’t have good fortune. Only my foolish daughter would treat you like a treasure. Marrying a man with a missing kidney isn’t a marriage, it’s a liability! And you have the nerve to criticize her?” She spat the words with such conviction, as if I were truly the one who had wronged her daughter. The reason my parents disowned me was because I had defied them, giving up our family home and a high-paying job in a major city to follow Isabella here. At the time, looking at the woman who cared for me so completely, I thought she was worth the gamble. It turned out I had bet on the wrong horse. The thought was another sharp jab of pain. Her mother was still ranting, listing all the ways I had brought misfortune to her daughter. I cut her off. “I’m breaking up with Isabella,” I said calmly. “You don’t need to worry anymore.” I hung up, leaving her sputtering in shock on the other end of the line. I had just lain back down when my phone rang again. It was my dad, from my hometown. We hadn’t spoken in years. I answered, bewildered. His voice was old and trembling. “Bob, you need to come home. Your mother… she’s not going to make it.” My mind went blank. The last time I saw her, she was strong enough to yell at me for leaving. How could she suddenly… My body moved before my brain could catch up. I threw on some clothes and ran for the door. I yanked it open and ran straight into Isabella. Behind her stood Caleb, sobbing hysterically. Before I could process what was happening, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Isabella had slapped me. “Bob! Who gave you permission to follow me? And to slander me and Caleb? When did you become so twisted?” I stumbled back, catching myself on a table. I touched my cheek, a bitter laugh rising in my throat. “Slander? Everyone at the office knows about you two. You don’t need my help with that. And follow you? That’s something someone who still loves you would do, Isabella. I’m done. I just want out.” My words clearly rattled her. A flicker of panic crossed her face. Caleb’s whiny voice cut in. “Bob, please don’t misunderstand. Isabella was just helping me because I’m not very good at my job. Why would you spread those horrible pictures in the group chat? How am I supposed to face anyone?” He clutched his chest, feigning a dramatic gasp. “You’re just playing games to hurt her. I can’t stand to see her upset.” He started wheezing. “Isabella… my asthma… I can’t breathe.” That was all it took. Isabella’s heart melted. She turned back to me, her eyes hard and cruel. “Break up? You think you can threaten me with a breakup to make me forgive what you did to Caleb? Not a chance, Bob. Get on your knees and apologize to him. Now.” I had to get to my mother. I didn’t have time for this. Without a second thought, I dropped to my knees. “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice flat. “I shouldn’t have spread false photos to slander you and Caleb. Are we done?” My quick compliance seemed to surprise Isabella. But Caleb clutched his chest again, gasping for air. “Why does the perpetrator get to be so arrogant? We, the victims, are just supposed to accept a hollow apology? What about the psychological damage he’s caused?” Isabella wrapped an arm around him. “What do you want, Caleb? What will make you feel better?” “I can’t show my face in public,” he whimpered. “So let’s make it so he can’t either. Then we’ll be even.” He pulled a small, wicked-looking knife from his pocket. “I’ll just carve a few little words into your face, Bob. You’ll be ugly for a while, but once it heals, my anger will be gone. What you did could stain my reputation for life. This is just a small price to pay. You should be grateful.” My blood ran cold. I stared at the gleaming blade and looked to Isabella, begging her with my eyes. She turned her head away. “You did this to yourself, Bob,” she said. “Just take it.” I couldn’t believe it. This was the woman I had loved for eleven years. The next second, the blade bit into my cheek. I didn’t know what was on it, but besides the slicing pain, there was a searing, chemical burn. I screamed, thrashing, but Isabella held me down, her grip like iron. “Just a little longer, Bob,” she hissed in my ear, her voice demonic. “It’ll be over soon.” The agony was blinding. A surge of adrenaline gave me a strength I didn’t know I had. I broke free from her grasp and shoved Caleb to the ground. He had only fallen to a sitting position, but he let out a blood-curdling shriek. Isabella completely ignored my face, which was already starting to blister and swell. She rushed to Caleb’s side, frantically checking him for injuries. Once she was satisfied he was unharmed, she looked back at me, her face a mask of disgust. “Look at you, Bob. You’ve become a monster. He was just giving you a little punishment for what you did, and you attack him like that. If you keep this up, I really will never marry you.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386798”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

I was a nobody in Hollywood, a B-list actress at best. My sugar daddy, however, was Rupert Sterling, the man who could make or break careers in the city with a single phone call. In my past life, I’d been a desperate, dramatic fool. Hired as a stand-in, I’d tried to scheme my way into the leading role, to push out the woman I was meant to imitate. I’d even faked a pregnancy and stormed the Sterling mansion to demand a title, earning his ultimate disgust and losing the shield of his protection. In the end, hunted by my rivals, I met a cold, watery grave in the unforgiving ocean. When I opened my eyes again, I was reborn on the exact day I’d tried to force Rupert into a proposal. The very day his affection had first curdled into contempt. “Mr. Sterling, when are we going to…” Rupert’s brow furrowed slightly as he glanced at me. “Going to what?” “Go… go our separate ways! I meant, when are we over?” 1 Rupert said nothing. But the icy mask of his expression seemed to mock me, a silent reminder that I had no right to make that decision. A man born into power, he was used to being in control. Even if he didn’t love me, this relationship was supposed to end on his terms, and his alone. Sensing the dangerous shift in the air, I scrambled to recover. “Kelly Lister is back in town, isn’t she? I’d hate for her to be unhappy seeing someone else by your side.” I was Kelly Lister’s double. In the tabloids, they called me “Little Kelly.” It was this face, a near-perfect copy of hers, that had caught Rupert’s eye all those years ago. Now, the original was back. There was still time to fix things. I would never again fight for his attention or try to sideline the real star. And I would certainly never again be foolish enough to dream of becoming Mrs. Sterling. My new strategy was simple: play the part of the considerate mistress, end things amicably for my benefactor’s sake, and walk away. Who knew? Maybe Rupert, pleased with my good sense, would toss a mansion my way as a parting gift. I looked at him, my eyes wide with manufactured hope. But at the mention of Kelly’s name, Rupert’s expression darkened. “Don’t mention her to me,” he said, his voice laced with ice. Oh, right. At this point in time, Kelly had just returned but hadn’t bothered to contact him. He was simmering with a quiet rage. And I had just walked straight into the line of fire. I quickly bowed my head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Sterling. I overstepped.” His deep, unreadable eyes studied me for a long moment. Seeing my performance of a docile little thing, he let out a short, sharp scoff. “Behave yourself,” he said. “I won’t mistreat you.” Behave yourself was a clear warning: Don’t go near Kelly Lister. As for not mistreating me… that was the truth. Rupert was incredibly generous. He showered me with jewelry and cash without a second thought. Any acting role I wanted, he delivered on a silver platter. The gossip blogs always say, where the money flows, so does the love. That’s why, in my last life, I’d naively believed there was a place for me in his heart. I’d become arrogant, entitled, making enemies everywhere and creating drama at every turn. It all culminated in me showing up at his family’s estate waving a forged pregnancy test. At the time, Rupert was in the middle of a vicious power struggle with his illegitimate half-siblings, and my stunt became a public relations nightmare for him. With that single act, I had exhausted the last shred of his patience. He’d cast me aside completely, revoking his protection. The memory of the bone-chilling water filling my lungs, the suffocating darkness… a violent shiver ran through me. I instinctively burrowed deeper into the solid warmth of Rupert’s chest. “I’ll be good, Mr. Sterling. I promise.” And faking it was easy. If I just locked my heart away and treated him as my boss, what was the difference between this and a regular job? The seven-figure monthly allowance was my salary. The jewelry and designer bags on holidays were my corporate bonuses. His handsome face was just a perk of the work environment. The blockbuster TV shows he funded for me were like company-sponsored MBAs, designed to boost my skills and public profile. And when the day came that Rupert grew tired of me… He was a man of his word. He wouldn’t treat a woman who’d been with him poorly. The breakup fee would be my generous severance package. What a great company! What a great boss! 2 “What are you smiling about?” Rupert’s voice jolted me from my reverie. I realized I’d been grinning like an idiot and quickly schooled my features. “Nothing… I wasn’t smiling.” He gently pushed me away, straightening the collar of his shirt I’d wrinkled. “I’m taking you to a party tonight,” he said. “Dress nicely.” In my past life, this was the night of my first face-to-face battle with Kelly. I had worn a couture gown Rupert had gifted me, only to find Kelly in the exact same one. Her friends had swarmed me, calling me a cheap imitation, a knock-off. I’d lost my temper and started a fight. In the chaos, I’d even pushed Kelly over when she tried to intervene. Rupert had been genuinely furious. He’d given me the silent treatment for a whole month, a month I’d spent in lovesick agony, begging for his forgiveness. This time, I wouldn’t go anywhere near Kelly. It wasn’t that I feared his cold shoulder. It was mostly… that I was afraid he’d cut off my allowance for a month, just like last time. As I was getting ready, I stood before my closet, picking out a dress. That white gown that had caused all the trouble was definitely out. But just as I was about to put it aside, a low voice came from behind me. “Wear that one.” Rupert was standing in the doorway of the walk-in closet. His tone left no room for argument. I had no choice but to obey. When I came out, dressed in the gown, his gaze lingered on me for an unusually long moment. “You look good in white,” he complimented. It just made me look more like Kelly. Hah. Men. The moment we arrived at the party, Rupert was mobbed by a crowd of admirers, leaving me to fend for myself. Bored, I looked for a quiet corner to hide in. But Kelly’s friends found me first. “You have some nerve, wearing the same dress as Kelly. Who do you think you are?” I scratched my ear, pretending I hadn’t heard them. Kelly, however, approached with a gentle smile. “You must be the woman with Rupert, right? This dress is one of only two in the world. It’s priceless. Did he give it to you? He must really like you.” Then she lowered her head, her eyes suddenly welling with tears. If Rupert was my boss, Kelly was the untouchable boss’s wife. Besides, I had no reason to make enemies and repeat my tragic fate. I smiled back. “Ms. Lister, don’t misunderstand. Mr. Sterling specifically told me to wear this dress tonight. I think he brought me here to make you jealous.” Rupert never took me to these events. For him to do so on the very night Kelly was back in town… it was obviously a power play meant to provoke her. I didn’t mind being the pawn that pleased both sides. “Stop with the innocent act!” One of Kelly’s friends shoved me hard. I stumbled backward, crashing into a waiter carrying a tray of drinks. I didn’t fall, but red wine splashed all over my white dress. A good amount of it splattered onto Kelly as well. The scene was ugly. Only now did I realize just how mortifying it had been to get into a public brawl in my past life. Rupert arrived just in time to see the aftermath. The women were huddled around Kelly, comforting her while eagerly throwing me under the bus. “Kelly just happened to be wearing the same dress! Did you have to ruin hers over it?” 3 Rupert shot me a glacial look, then his eyes softened as they landed on Kelly. Her eyes were red and puffy, and she looked utterly fragile. “Rupert, don’t blame her,” she whispered pitifully. What a massive accusation. I wasn’t about to take the fall for this. “The waitstaff must have seen everything,” I said, my voice steady. “They pushed me first. I didn’t start this. And besides…” I pointed toward a security camera mounted on the ceiling. “The camera will have the truth.” “Well… it was your fault for showing off the dress Mr. Sterling bought you! You were trying to provoke Kelly!” So, no matter what, it was my fault. All eyes turned to Rupert, waiting for the king to pass judgment. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over Kelly’s shoulders. “Wear this for now,” he said gently. “I’ll have someone take you to get changed. I’m sorry.” Of course. The scales of affection always tip one way. Even if I proved my innocence, he would always protect his darling. But that didn’t matter to me anymore. Rupert’s face was a mask of thunder as he dragged me to the car. The second the door slammed shut, he yanked at his tie. “Stay the hell away from her,” he hissed, his voice dangerously low. In my past life, this scene had played out countless times. And what did I do? I cried. I played the victim. But now, I just said calmly, “Mr. Sterling, it shouldn’t be hard for you to see that I was the one who was bullied tonight.” He was clearly stunned by my rational, emotionless response. He stared at me for a moment before replying, “I know, but Kelly’s family was there. I had to protect…” “I understand,” I cut in, a serene smile on my face. “But I can’t be humiliated for nothing, can I? As compensation, how about you give me that S-plus blockbuster script?” In my previous life, Kelly had skyrocketed to fame with that very role. I had been sick with envy. I had begged Rupert for it, but he had refused, saying my acting skills weren’t strong enough for a major production. Please. Was Kelly’s acting really that much better? The woman could barely hide her triumphant smirk when he gave her his jacket. Rupert’s lips thinned into a hard line. After a long moment of consideration, he finally said, “Fine.” I pressed my advantage, pointing to the wine stain on my dress. “And you owe me a new dress. Cash would be preferable.” Rupert might not have been a good partner, but he was certainly a considerate boss. He agreed without hesitation. But his gaze remained on me, sharp and probing, for a long time. The drive home was silent. Normally, I would be chattering away, annoying him until he snapped at me to shut up. But now, I was happily scrolling through diet-food videos on my phone. I completely ignored the daggers he was shooting at me from the driver’s seat, and the pointed, attention-seeking clearing of his throat. Hehehe. This was bliss. After a long day at “work,” I was exhausted. The moment we got home, I abandoned Rupert and dove into the bathroom for a long, fragrant shower. I snuggled into my blankets, humming with contentment. I didn’t get his slippers. I didn’t run his bath. Rupert’s expression grew even darker than it had been at the party. He started making a racket, slamming his phone on the nightstand, leaving the bathroom door open while he showered, the sound of rushing water filling the room. It was so distracting that I finally put on my headphones to watch my show in peace. When he was done, he climbed into bed and, out of habit, stretched his arm out towards me. Oh, right. That was my fault. I used to shamelessly use his arm as a pillow, and now it was a reflex for him. I just rolled over, pretending I hadn’t seen a thing. Click. As the breathing beside me grew heavier, the lamp was slammed off. Three seconds later. Click. The light was on again. Rupert shot up in bed, his jaw clenched. “Ava Reed,” he ground out through his teeth. “What in the hell are you so angry about?” 4 Huh? I was being blamed again? I scrambled to sit up, putting on my best customer-service smile for the boss. “Angry? Why would I be angry? You gave me a major role and a pile of cash. I couldn’t be happier!” “You…” He seemed genuinely furious now. He grabbed my wrist, pulling me close until our faces were inches apart. “You’re happy about this?” So being angry was wrong, and being happy was also wrong? This boss was impossible to please. I quickly laid on the charm. “With a boss as generous as you, Mr. Sterling, of course I’m happy!” Rupert narrowed his eyes, his grip on my wrist tightening. “What did you just call me?” “Boss…” That was it. He was officially furious. His eyes were like chips of ice. He stared into my eyes for a long, tense moment, as if searching for something he couldn’t find. I started to feel a prickle of fear under his intense gaze and quickly looked down. Suddenly, a hand clamped around my waist. In one swift motion, he pulled me down, and I was lying flat on my back again. He rolled on top of me, his lips brushing against my ear. His voice was like poison. “Fine,” he whispered. “Then you can work some overtime tonight.” I didn’t know what possessed Rupert that night. All I remembered was a desperate, almost punishing passion. The next morning, I woke up with every muscle in my body aching. I could barely focus on my script, yawning through every line. Filming started in three months; I had to be ready. I couldn’t let this blockbuster IP, the one that had made Kelly a superstar in my past life, fail in my hands. Even during breaks on a commercial shoot, I was studying my character’s psychology and memorizing lines. My agent, Catherine, came over to me. “Ava,” she said, “you’ve been different lately.” “Different how?” “Well… a lot nicer.” I hated Hollywood. It had destroyed the starry-eyed girl who had once dreamed of being an actress. So, in my past life, I had loathed my job. When a director with a short fuse yelled at me, I’d use Rupert’s name to storm off set, letting the whole production crash and burn. When the paparazzi ambushed me, I’d charge them, smash their expensive cameras to pieces, and have my lawyer follow up. When a young co-star tried to give Rupert a cake during a set visit, I’d have her fired immediately and then publicly call her out on social media. Everyone knew I was a nobody with an ego the size of a planet. My reputation was in the gutter. When you fall from grace, even the dogs will bite. In the end, I never even found out which of my many enemies had me killed. But in this life, I wasn’t making enemies. The director yells at me? I put my hands together and bow. “I’m so sorry, director. Can we please do one more take?” The paparazzi snap my picture? I bring them coffee. “Working hard, guys? Make sure you get my good side, okay?” A young actress brings a cake? I give her pointers. “Mr. Sterling prefers lime-flavored. Just a tip for next time.” My public image was soaring. Gleefully, I opened up my social media to bask in the trending topics about myself. But the first thing I saw was a headline that made my blood run cold: 【Ava Reed Steals Role】. The entire feed was a flood of outrage from Kelly Lister’s fans. My carefully rebuilt reputation crumbled in an instant. Before filming had even begun, the comments were already filled with calls to boycott the new show. As the online firestorm grew, I rushed to Rupert’s office. His secretary, who remembered my old diva antics, didn’t dare stop me. She just stammered, “Ms. Reed, Ms. Lister is still in there.” Is she? Then I have even more reason to go in. 5 If Kelly Lister shed a single tear, Rupert would snatch this role away from me without a second thought. I couldn’t let that happen. Kelly turned around as I entered. She was wearing heavy sunglasses, and her face was pale. She pointed a slender, accusing finger at me. “Rupert, are you really going to take this from me for her?” she said, her voice trembling. “I know I hurt you back then, but isn’t this revenge a little too cruel?” My gaze went past Kelly to Rupert, who was sitting at his desk, his expression impassive. The moment his eyes met mine, a flicker of indecision crossed his face. It was over. He was going to give the role to Kelly. I saw her sunglasses start to slip, revealing eyes already red-rimmed, a tear about to fall. I had to act first. I captured Rupert’s attention, my voice firm. “Mr. Sterling, you promised me this.” He tugged at the corner of his lip, annoyed. “You don’t even like acting. This can’t be that important to you.” “Of course it’s important.” I held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Honestly, I understand you’re in a difficult position. I never expected fairness from you. But this was your promise, and I have stayed up every night for the past month studying this script. You’ve seen how hard I’ve worked.” I had been reading until dawn every night. Not wanting to disturb Rupert, I had started sleeping in the guest room. He’d put up with it for a few days, but after a week, he couldn’t stand it anymore. He had stormed into the guest room, snatched the script from my hands, and thrown it onto the bed in the master suite. “You’ll read it under my watch,” he had grumbled. “I’d like to see what’s in this thin little booklet that requires a week of your time.” Rupert despised incompetence. He had mocked my slow pace, but he had also coached me, pointing out where my understanding of the character’s psychology was lacking. He had witnessed my effort. And it worked. The hesitation in his eyes began to fade, replaced by a look of deep curiosity. He didn’t say a word. He just buzzed his secretary and asked her to escort Kelly home. Once we were alone in the office, he rubbed his temples. “You’re not yourself lately,” he said. He was right. I didn’t cling to him anymore. In bed, I was passive, a silent partner offering neither initiation nor rejection, and certainly no emotional validation. When Kelly called him, I would quietly excuse myself, closing the door behind me. When he came home late, I was already sound asleep, getting my beauty rest instead of waiting up for him. I couldn’t help it. My days were packed: reading scripts, taking acting classes, managing my small investments. And now, here I was, reasoning with him like a business partner, devoid of any emotion. I smiled, and as a small reward, I leaned over and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “I’m busy, but I’m still obedient, aren’t I? Boss.” Rupert’s face soured. He waved a dismissive hand, telling me to leave. But I knew him. After two years, I knew that look. The role was mine. And sure enough, the trending topic vanished from social media. The show’s official account announced me as the female lead. Mission accomplished. Nothing else mattered.

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After I left the country, every lover Caroline Marsh found looked just like me. When her friends talked about me, they’d say, “Caroline’s old flame, the one that got away. If Noah ever came back, none of these other guys would stand a chance.” Then Caroline started dating a newly famous actor, a kid who looked nothing like me. And he was the first one she ever officially called her boyfriend. That was the year I rushed back home. Everyone was waiting for the show: the old flame, full of regret, begging for a second chance. Even Caroline dropped hints, a subtle warning: “Noah, you’ve come back at a bad time.” But they didn’t know. I wasn’t here to win Caroline back. I was back to get married. 1 Stepping out of the airport, I spotted Caroline in the crowd almost instantly. She was wearing a light beige trench coat, her figure as elegant as ever, her face etched with a maturity it didn’t have when I left. But the look on that face was impossibly complex. “They said you were coming back. I didn’t believe them.” I stopped, my hand resting on my luggage handle, and said coolly, “I’m just here to take care of a few things.” Caroline took the suitcase from my hand. “Your father asked me to pick you up. Don’t get the wrong idea.” I nodded and followed her to the underground parking garage. On the way, I glanced at my phone. A group chat that had been dead for ages was exploding. [Did Caroline really go pick Noah up? No way, is he actually back?] [What about her current boyfriend, that actor Leo Bright? Is she kicking him to the curb?] [Is that even a question? And why do you think Noah is suddenly back? He’s obviously here to win her back!] [Leo Bright is nothing. Just a novelty for Caroline. Now that Noah’s back, I’ll be shocked if she even spares Leo a glance.] [I’ve met Leo. Don’t underestimate him. Any man who can land Caroline is a force to be reckoned with.] Caroline noticed my buzzing phone. She glanced at the screen, then looked at me. “Noah, you’ve come back at a bad time.” She added, “I have a boyfriend now.” My hand, reaching for the passenger door, froze. I rerouted, opening the back door instead. Only two words left my lips: “Congratulations.” Caroline slammed her door with a little too much force. The Caroline I knew was always composed, free of bad habits, and fiercely private. But in the years I’d been away, I’d heard rumors of more than a dozen lovers. Her phone rang, and a clear, bright voice came through the speaker. “Caroline, I’m dying on set. Can you come and get me?” “Send me the address.” “Love you, love you!” Caroline hung up and turned to me with a smile. “You don’t mind if I take a detour to pick up my boyfriend, do you?” “Of course not.” I should have taken a cab. 2 Caroline parked the car near the film set. Amidst the bustling crowd, my eyes landed on Leo Bright. He was impossible to miss. Even bundled up, he had a star quality that was instantly recognizable. Fans were snapping pictures. Leo pulled down his mask just enough to reveal a gentle smile. “Thank you all for the love. My girlfriend isn’t in the public eye, so could you please not photograph her?” A fan shouted, “We heard your girlfriend is the heiress to the Marsh fortune. Is it true?” Leo didn’t deny it, just raised a finger to his lips in a “shh” gesture. Once in the car, he took off his sunglasses and planted a kiss on Caroline’s cheek. “Caroline, have you been waiting long?” His eyes flickered to me. “And you are?” I offered a polite smile. “Hello. I’m Noah Croft. A friend of Caroline’s.” Leo’s smile deepened. “Noah. I’ve heard a lot about you.” Caroline naturally reached over and fastened his seatbelt for him. “All buckled in. Let’s go.” Leo chuckled. “Look at me, always forgetting. You always have to do it for me.” I turned my gaze to the window, avoiding the sight of their affection. We hadn’t been driving for long before Leo struck up a conversation with me. “Noah, in all your years abroad, did you ever have a girlfriend?” “I did,” I said honestly. “I knew it! A guy as handsome as you, you look like a movie star yourself. You must have women chasing you all the time, right? “Take Caroline, for example. She pursued me. All her friends say I’m different to her. “But I don’t quite get it. Do they mean she has some unforgettable old flame? I hear you and Caroline grew up together. You must know who it is. Come on, tell me.” He watched me, his eyes more probing than curious. Caroline’s brow furrowed. “I don’t have an old flame,” she said, her tone sharp. “They’re just teasing.” Leo pouted and started sulking on his phone. The rest of the drive was silent. When Caroline dropped me off at my family’s house, she didn’t even get out of the car. She rolled down the window. “My boyfriend’s upset. I have to go cheer him up, so I won’t come in. Say hello to your parents for me.” I was about to leave when Leo suddenly called out. “Noah, let’s exchange numbers.” I held out my phone for him to scan, but he shook his head. “No, you scan me. That way I know you’ll accept the request.” 3 My friends threw a small welcome-home party for me. No one expected Caroline to bring Leo Bright. Leo had come prepared with carefully selected gifts for everyone. Especially for me. “I hear Caroline thinks of you as a brother, Noah. So when we get married, you have to be my best man.” A few of my friends’ expressions soured. One of them turned to Caroline. “Caroline, aren’t you going to rein him in?” Caroline just smiled. “Do you want me to get punished when we get home?” Leo scratched his head sheepishly, grinning. He suggested a game of truth or dare. The bottle spun and landed on me. Everyone was eager to ask a question, but Leo stopped them. “Hold on! Let my girlfriend go first.” Caroline took a sip of her drink, her eyes fixed on me. “Did you have a girlfriend abroad?” I nodded. “Yes.” A few people gasped. Caroline’s best friend, a woman named Maya, tried to play it off. “Oh, come on, Noah’s just joking. A penalty shot for lying! I’ll drink it for him.” The next round, it was Caroline’s spin. The bottle pointed to me again. She asked, “What’s her name?” I answered, “I’d rather not say.” Leo laughed loudly. “Hahaha, Noah! Lucky you’re not an actor, your poker face is terrible. These women don’t get how a man’s mind works, but we’re both men. I can tell you’re lying from a mile away.” Caroline’s usual boy toys would never dare speak like that. But this was Leo Bright sitting next to her. The only boyfriend she had ever publicly acknowledged. Caroline’s silence was a form of permission. A small smile played on my lips. “Actors are experts at faking it, Mr. Bright. It’s a skill I’ve never had to learn.” The smile froze on Leo’s face. I’ve always considered myself good-natured, but my tongue can be sharp. It seemed Caroline hadn’t gotten around to telling Leo that part. But he had a thick skin. In a flash, he was smiling again, pouring me a drink. “A bet’s a bet. If you can’t answer, you drink. Your turn.” “Fine.” I downed the glass in one go. The bottle in Caroline’s hand seemed enchanted. The next spin landed on me again. She asked, almost without thinking, “Why did you come back?” 4 I chose not to answer this one. Caroline saw through me and slammed her hand down on the bottle to stop it from spinning. “Why did you come back?” I sighed in resignation. “To get married.” It wasn’t a big secret. I’d have to invite my friends to the wedding eventually anyway. “Pfft— Hahahahahahaha!” The room erupted in laughter. “It’s been years, but Noah’s pranks are still so childish.” “I think his real intentions are hidden somewhere else.” “Noah, you’re getting worse and worse at lying.” I looked at Leo. “So, I’m sorry, but I can’t be your best man. My wedding is at the beginning of next month.” He asked, his curiosity piqued, “Is it the girlfriend you had abroad? Come on, Noah, just tell us. It’s not like we’re going to judge her if she’s not good enough, right?” I didn’t owe him an explanation. I just said calmly, “She’s an amazing woman, but I can’t disclose her identity.” Caroline suddenly stood up and pulled on Leo’s arm. “Leo, your acting is much better than his. I can’t watch this farce anymore. Let’s go.” Maya grabbed her, whispering in her ear, “Don’t, Caroline. If you miss this chance, who knows how long you’ll have to wait again?” Caroline shook her off. “When was I ever waiting for him? Huh?” “I’ve played with more men than I can count these past few years. Every single one of them was better than Noah Croft.” The words died on Maya’s lips. My eyes met Caroline’s. Her gaze was trembling. I stood frozen, a cold dread washing over me, feeling the blood turn to ice in my veins. “Caroline, have you no shame?” A faint, mocking smile touched her lips. “None of your business.” 5 After the party, Maya cornered me. “Noah, are you really getting married? Is it true?” I nodded calmly. “It’s true.” She sighed. “You don’t have to lie to me. Others might not know, but I do. The only thing between you and Caroline is that one hurdle from the past. The truth is, Caroline—” I cut her off. “Maya, it’s not a hurdle. It’s a person.” “I’m really getting married this time. I’m not lying to you, and I’m not doing this out of spite.” Maya looked as if she’d been struck. “Noah! Have you seen what’s become of Caroline these past few years? How could you…” “I wasn’t here, but you were, weren’t you?” “For years, Caroline has looked at man after man who resembles you, and the thing she says most often is, “‘He looks like him, but he’s not him.’” I let out a long, weary sigh. “But you saw it too, Maya. She still hates me.” … Halfway home, Caroline’s car screeched to a halt. She gave Leo his marching orders. “Get out.” Leo’s expression tightened, but he forced a smile. “What, you say you don’t believe him, but the second you hear he’s getting married, you fly into a rage?” Caroline’s face grew even darker. “Leo Bright, know your place. I can have you blacklisted with a single word.” Faced with a choice between his career and his pride, Leo chose the former. He had thought he was different to Caroline. No other man had ever sat in her passenger seat. No other man had she ever publicly called her boyfriend. Other men had been dumped for simply mentioning Noah Croft’s name. Leo didn’t believe Noah was the “unforgettable old flame” everyone talked about. He thought what Caroline felt was closer to hate. She had loved him once, but that love had curdled into resentment. Every man wanted to be the Marsh family’s son-in-law. Now that he, Leo Bright, had his foot in the door, he had to give it everything he had to cross the threshold. 6 Leo Bright posted on his social media. It was a picture he had secretly taken of me. The lighting in the private room was dim, so it was only a shot of my back. The caption read: [I hear your old flame is back in town. I guess that makes me nothing but a smudge of mosquito blood on the wall.] A minute later, he deleted it. Leo was an A-lister Caroline had built from the ground up. His every move was headline news. And this time, my name was in the trending topics. His fans were furious: [What old flame? He’s the one who dumped Caroline in the first place, and now he can’t stand to see our Leo happy, so he’s back to ruin things.] [Oh my god, so he’s a homewrecker?] [He’s not just a homewrecker, he’s a murderer. He caused the death of a mutual friend he and Caroline shared.] [Not many people know what happened back then, but let’s just say Noah Croft is from one of those untouchable elite families. You can guess the rest~] [Is Leo being threatened? If you’re being threatened, post a period on your next update.] Leo’s next post was, indeed, just a single period. He deleted it moments later. He had stirred the pot once again. When he showed up at my door to apologize, he still wore a mask of innocence. “I’m so sorry, Noah. I just posted a line from a script. I had no idea people would react so strongly and start this online mob against you. I’m really sorry.” His eyes were red from crying. I said coldly, “You want me to suffer, but you don’t want to offend my family. Leo Bright, you can’t have it both ways.” “Noah, I know what they’re saying is true. You and Caroline had a past, so I understand why you’re targeting me. But please, leave Caroline out of this.” Just as I was about to speak, Leo suddenly stumbled forward, his head slamming hard against the edge of a table. Caroline walked in at that exact moment. She rushed to help the now unconscious Leo, blood gushing from his forehead, staining her shoulder crimson. “Noah, I already had the trending topics taken down for you. Don’t you think you’re taking this too far?” I roared, “Who do you think sicced his fans on me in the first place?” Caroline sneered. “But Noah, were they wrong? Did you not dump me without a word? Did you not cause a man’s death? Hmm?” The words caught in my throat. Without looking back, she supported Leo and hurried him to the hospital. 7 I drove to the cemetery. The sun was shining, the air was calm, but the place still felt heavy. I stood before a headstone and pulled a pack of cigarettes from my pocket. I lit one and placed it on the ground. “Your favorite.” I looked at the picture of the smiling young man on the stone, his life forever frozen at twenty. Finn. An orphan, with no parents to speak of. Back then, the three of us were inseparable. One day, while helping Finn move, his notebook fell out in my car. And just like that, a page that would change all our lives lay open on the back seat. A picture of Caroline was taped to a corner of the page. Finn’s feelings for her had been translated into words that filled every inch of space around her photo. At the time, Caroline and I had just ended a six-year secret crush and had been officially together for less than a year. For all seven of those years, Finn had been by Caroline’s side. I confronted Caroline in a rage, and we had a massive fight. “Finn has been in love with you for this long, and you never noticed? You kept him by your side for seven years! Were you two hiding this from me together?” Caroline screamed back, “What are you talking about? How could Finn possibly be in love with me?” I slapped the page from his notebook onto her desk. “See for yourself! This is how he’s been in love with you for seven years!” Caroline’s gaze wasn’t on the notebook. It was on something behind me. I turned and saw Finn’s face, pale as a ghost. He fled in a panic. At an intersection just a block from her apartment, he was hit by a car. He died instantly. It was only later, when I finally read the last page of his notebook, that a tidal wave of grief washed over me. Finn had written: [It’s so rare for two people to love each other. Noah and Caroline are my best friends. They have to be happy.] Tears streamed down my face, consumed by a regret so deep it felt like a physical wound. Caroline and I were both twenty years old then. Our love was young and fragile. Weighed down by a life, it quickly shattered. From that day on, there was always a trace of hatred in her eyes when she looked at me. Finn was my friend, but to Caroline, he was family. When the cold ocean water rose to my chest, a kind stranger pulled me back. She yelled at me, “You’re so young! What gives you the right to give up on life?” “Because I caused a life to be lost. I owe him this.” “Listen to me! If you die, you get an easy way out. How can you be so selfish? You want to atone? Then live with this guilt forever!” I chose to run from Caroline, carrying my guilt with me to another country. I went to Murmansk, the city Finn loved most. A port that never freezes, a guilt that never thaws. 8 Leo Bright, a massive bandage on his forehead, started a livestream. His fans were outraged: [Leo, what happened? Did someone hit you? Tell us, don’t be afraid, we’ll protect you!] [Just a passerby, but I can’t watch this anymore. Call the police, man.] [OMG I’m crying my eyes out, someone please save this kind soul.] Leo managed a pale smile. “Don’t worry everyone, I was just clumsy and bumped into something.” He tilted the camera slightly, and Caroline’s back came into view. She seemed to be cooking for him. Leo said, “Alright my dear fans, cheer up, no more tears. I’m actually happy this happened. It’s a blessing in disguise. My girlfriend is finally willing to come home and cook for me.” [Meaning she was tied up with that homewrecker this whole time? Noah Croft is a monster!] [Don’t be moved by one meal! You’re always so kind, who’s going to look out for you?] [Noah Croft can go to hell!] Just before Caroline could turn around, Leo straightened the camera. He deliberately defended me: “Everyone has it wrong. Noah is a dear friend to both of us. I hope you all will stop disturbing a private citizen’s life and give him some peace, okay?” The comments grew more and more vitriolic. Watching them, Leo’s smile deepened. He ended the livestream. Across the city, I put down my phone. I rubbed my brow, a headache blooming. Just then, an unsaved number called. A gentle female voice. “Noah, my flight back lands tomorrow afternoon. We need to discuss our wedding plans.” My grip tightened on the phone. “Okay. I’ll pick you up.” That night, a rumor started spreading through the city’s elite circles. The powerhouse lawyer, the one who made titans of industry tremble, Claire Lowell, was coming home. Someone had once dared to sum her up. If you don’t want to get sued, don’t cross Claire Lowell. 9 At the capital airport. Claire Lowell, in a black overcoat, her figure slim and her aura commanding, stood out in the crowd. I hurried towards her. “Welcome home, Counselor.” Claire looked at me with a soft expression and leaned up to kiss my cheek. “Noah, it’s been so long. I’ve missed you.” That night, I stayed at Claire’s apartment. After a passionate encounter, she lay softly on my chest. I asked her, “Claire, are you confident about that case?” Claire looked up at me, her eyes glinting with a playful smile. “Instead of asking about our wedding, you’re focused on a case? Noah, you’re too eager.” I pouted. “Who’s eager? I’ve already made the arrangements. I’m going for a tuxedo fitting tomorrow, and you’re coming with me.” “Okay.” I turned off the light but couldn’t fall asleep for a long time. The next day, at the bridal shop, I ran into Leo Bright. He was in a white tuxedo, preening in front of a mirror. When he saw me, his smile vanished. “Noah, what are you doing here?” I then noticed he was holding his phone, seemingly livestreaming. Leo spoke to the screen: “Fans, calm down. Noah has great taste. Maybe Caroline sent him to give me some advice. “The wedding date? Caroline is already looking at dates. Good news is just around the corner.” He strode over, positioning himself to take a selfie with me. “Noah, say hi to my fans. And maybe clarify your relationship with Caroline, so they don’t get the wrong idea, right?” The comment section exploded. [What bridal shop is that? I’m on my way to get revenge for my boy!] [He’s so ugly! Is there no standard for homewreckers these days?] [Ugh, can the scumbag who breaks up relationships just die already!] I slapped the phone out of his hand. “Leo Bright, stop this online mob. As a public figure, you have no integrity.” He glanced at the dark screen of his phone and smirked. “Caroline and I are getting married. Aren’t you panicking?” “I’m panicking like crazy, okay? Now you’re in my way. Move.” A familiar voice cut through the air. “I’m quite sure I called the manager to book the entire store. Why are random people being allowed in?” Caroline appeared behind us. Leo’s face transformed into a smile as he walked towards her. “Caroline, thank god you’re here. Noah suddenly lost control. He even smashed my phone. I don’t blame him, he’s probably just a little emotional.” Caroline stared at me coldly. “Noah, what are you trying to pull this time?” “Does he need to explain himself to you?” Claire Lowell walked towards me, taking off her sunglasses as she did. She linked her arm through mine. “Sorry I’m a little late, Noah. Had to deal with something.” Caroline took a step forward, her eyes narrowing at the newcomer. “Claire Lowell?” Claire smiled. “A pleasure. I’m Claire Lowell. Noah’s fiancée.”

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I died on my way to call him. On the other end of the line, he was humming a tune, making me dinner. But in the blink of an eye, that same man calmly claimed my shattered remains and turned our home into a love nest for him and his old flame. Ten years of marriage, and he never shed a single tear for me. I hated him for his cold heart, hated that I’d wasted a decade on him. Reborn, facing him again, I tore up our engagement and had only one thing to say— “Go chase what you want. I’m done playing along.” 1 My head was still spinning from the dizzying sensation of being a disembodied spirit when Toby’s sharp scoff cut through the haze. “So, you were just messing with me.” “How many times have you pulled this stunt now?” A wave of vertigo washed over me, and I paled, grabbing the back of a chair to steady myself as I sank into it. Toby just watched me, his expression perfectly calm. “No,” I managed to say. “From now on, be with whoever you want. I won’t force you into anything anymore.” “The engagement… I was being impulsive.” Toby strode over to me, his fists clenching at his sides. “You promised you’d get your father to invest in my family’s company. Are you backing out?” A sudden, mocking smile twisted his lips. “I should have known. You never stick with anything for more than five minutes.” At the mention of the investment, a flicker of anxiety broke through his calm facade. He loomed over me like a wall, and the dizziness intensified, a sour knot forming in my stomach. I kicked lightly at his shin. “Get me a glass of ice water.” At my command, his tension vanished in an instant, replaced by that familiar, placid obedience. As I took the glass, a strange sense of déjà vu washed over me. It felt just like our past life, in our home. He’d come back from work, ready to cook, and I’d be lounging on the sofa, ordering him to wash fruit for me, demanding a leg massage while he was between stirring pots. I looked up and met his eyes, now perfectly serene again. How did he do it? I wondered. How did he serve a woman he didn’t love, share a bed with her for ten long years? A bitter pang shot through my heart. It must have been unbearable. I lowered my gaze and answered his question. “My family will still make the investment.” Toby’s father was a man of immense pride. His company, Keystone Foods, had built its reputation on quality, earning trust slowly but surely. But in this cutthroat market, surviving was a struggle. They were facing a massive overhaul, and if my family pulled our funding now, it would be a devastating blow. His father, with all his pride, would never recover. That’s why Toby endured it all. He endured me. For that debt of gratitude, he gave up the girl he truly loved and agreed to every single one of my unreasonable demands. Even later, after his family’s company was well past the crisis, he never broke his promise to me. He took care of me for ten years. He just didn’t love me. But now, thankfully, it wasn’t too late to change things. “It will be a standard investment contract, with dividends based on the shares. If problems come up later, I’ll even consider a second round of funding. Keystone is a good company. I grew up eating your family’s snacks. There are no strings attached.” I took a deep breath. After all, for ten years, I had genuinely loved him. Pushing down the wistful ache in my chest, I continued, “Forcing you before was my mistake. I won’t do it again.” I met his gaze directly. He looked right back at me, his lips parting as if to say something, but no words came out. I stood up, turned my back to him, and opened the door, blinking back the sting in my eyes. “This time, I want to try with someone else.” Toby’s footsteps were hurried, almost frantic, as he left. He was probably terrified I’d change my mind. 2 Toby was raised in a loving home by adoring parents, a true gentleman. When I was little, my father would often take me to visit his family, and he always treated me with perfect hospitality, never showing a hint of impatience with my childish tantrums. It wasn’t until I accidentally learned he had followed his neighbor, Rosalyn, to Bayside University that I understood. All his patience, all his composure, was just the politeness one shows a guest. Even someone as brilliant as him had a love he couldn’t have. Rosalyn was beautiful and talented, but I wasn’t so bad myself. I was so naive back then. I really thought that, given enough time, he would eventually fall in love with me. For ten years, we got along well enough, like any ordinary married couple. It created the illusion that we were in love. But I wasn’t even cold in my grave for a week before he moved Rosalyn into our home. I was like the villainess in a romance novel, the one who tears the main characters apart. And in the end, I got what was coming to me. I gazed out the floor-to-ceiling window at the brilliant blue sea and sky. There was nothing better than being alive again. To prove I was serious, I had my dad complete the investment the very next day. And we officially called off the pending engagement. My father gave me a long, meaningful look as he signed my name on the investment contract. It was now officially me, not my family, investing in Toby’s company. Even my own father could see how I felt about him. I didn’t bother trying to explain. Neither family ever mentioned the engagement again. 3 Back on campus, the university felt enormous. We were in different departments—he was in finance, I was in fine arts. It was perfectly normal that our paths never crossed. A full month passed without a single sighting of Toby. At first, it felt strange, a void in my routine. So I threw myself into college life to keep my mind busy. I started feeding the stray cats on campus. I joined the outdoor hiking club. I shared pictures of my sculptures, my clothes perpetually covered in clay. I went on sketching trips with my classmates. My roommates started a betting pool in our group chat, guessing whether I had truly moved on or was just trying a new strategy. They’d all seen how obsessed I was with Toby before. They chatted away as if I wasn’t even in the group. I rolled my eyes and typed back a message. “So what are the odds?” Chloe replied: “Four to one… P.S., I’m the one.” Even though they all thought I’d be back to chasing him in no time, I was serious this time. I was done with Toby Grant. I placed a bet on myself. That evening, Jimmy showed up. He roared up in a flashy sports car, his hair a shock of bleached blond, and bellowed my name outside the sculpture studio. “Claire!” He lunged forward to throw an arm around my neck but screeched to a halt when he saw the clay splattered all over me. “Heard you invested in Toby’s family company, but now you’re avoiding him?” His eyes were gleaming with gossip. “What’s the deal? Playing hard to get?” I shot him a withering glare. “Get your mind out of the gutter!” I turned to go back into the studio, having zero interest in talking to him. We’d been close since we were kids, distant cousins thrice removed. He was a classic slacker who coasted through life, and his dad had finally shipped him off to a university abroad. I still remember the look of utter betrayal on his face when he saw my stellar college entrance exam scores. But for all the good his “study abroad” did, he was constantly flying back. Jimmy stroked his chin thoughtfully. “Or maybe I could, you know, tie him up for you? Let you have your wicked way with him?” I took a deep breath and turned back to him with a saccharine smile. The next second, all the wet clay from my hands was smeared across his face. He let out a howl like a pig being slaughtered. “Claire Sterling, I’m gonna kill you!” As I dodged his flailing attack, I glanced down the hallway and saw Toby standing at the far end, holding two cups of bubble tea. It was the first time I’d seen him since that day. Remembering that his “one true love,” Rosalyn, had classes in this building, it all made sense. He watched us with a cold, flat expression, let out a quiet scoff, and turned and walked away. “What’s his problem?” I muttered. Later, while we were grabbing spicy hot pot, Jimmy brought up Toby again. “What’s really going on with you two?” “I just don’t like him anymore, that’s all.” Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “What do you mean, you don’t like him anymore?” “Is it because he’s in love with Rosalyn?” I snatched a piece of tripe from his chopsticks and rolled my eyes. “You already know, so why ask?” A look of profound tragedy crossed his face. “Oh, my dearest Rosalyn… Now that punk is really going to snatch her away.” His words struck a chord, and a wave of sadness washed over me. That night, two souls unlucky in love drank themselves into a stupor. My roommate, Chloe, who was just getting off one of her many part-time jobs, had to drag me home. The next morning, she gleefully showed me a video of Jimmy and me belting out sad love songs in the middle of the street. She used it as blackmail to get me to cover her volunteer shift for the debate club. The girl juggled eighteen part-time jobs, and this time, her schedule was just too packed. 4 I never thought I’d cross paths with Toby again. But there he was, in the debate club room. He was organizing files on a shelf. He froze for a second when I walked in, then turned back to his task without a word. An awkward silence fell. He probably thought I’d come here on purpose, chasing him. Neither of us spoke. I started cleaning, just as Chloe had asked. To be honest, it was a little harder than I expected. I was standing on a wobbly table, stretching to wipe the top of a window, when the table suddenly shifted. I lost my balance and started to fall. I braced for the impact, but the pain never came. Instead, a pair of searing hot hands wrapped around my waist, catching me. My face flushed instantly. My mind flashed back to my past life, after Toby and I were married. He was usually so silent, so restrained. Except in bed. In the dark, he would grip my waist with that same fierce, burning intensity, his breath coming in heavy gasps. His hands were always so hot. He wouldn’t say a word, just work with a relentless focus. It was only when I begged for mercy, my voice hoarse, that he would finally relent, his mouth moving to my lips, giving me a moment’s reprieve. I drifted for a moment. So, we did have moments that felt like love. “Get down.” A cold voice from behind me snapped me out of my memories. I felt a surge of embarrassment. He probably thought I fell on purpose. He pinched the bridge of his nose, looking deeply annoyed. Just as I was trying to figure out how to explain myself, my phone rang. I scrambled to answer it, grateful for the escape. It was Jimmy. He sounded like he’d just woken up. “Claire, my dear cousin! For the sake of your happiness, your big bro is going to give it another shot!” My blood ran cold. Give what another shot? I had a terrible feeling he was about to do something monumentally stupid. I rushed out to find him, circling the campus until I finally spotted him in front of the dorms. But Toby had found him first. By the time I arrived, Jimmy was in a standoff with Toby. It was a grand, over-the-top display. The ground was littered with rose petals. Rosalyn, dressed in a white sundress, stood behind Toby, looking completely bewildered. I walked closer, my heart sinking with a familiar ache. Seeing them together like this, it still hurt. It was a dull, lingering pain. In my past life, shortly after I forced Toby to marry me, Rosalyn’s family went bankrupt. Toby immediately sent her abroad. I was so happy then. I thought, with her gone, nothing would stand in our way. Looking back now, I realize he was just protecting her. He must have thought that with her family ruined, she would be vulnerable to my jealousy. He really, truly loved her. Just like now. Rosalyn was the one being confessed to. But it was Toby standing in front of her, shielding her, rejecting Jimmy on her behalf. Rosalyn’s eyes were red-rimmed as she gently tugged on Toby’s sleeve, shaking her head. Then, her eyes met mine across the crowd. She looked like she wanted to say something, to explain, but her lips parted and closed, and in the end, she just lowered her gaze. The scene felt strangely familiar. I remembered, after I died in my past life, when Toby brought Rosalyn home, Jimmy had shown up just like this, making a scene. He had pointed a finger in Toby’s face, screaming at him, demanding he let Rosalyn go. He accused Toby of betraying me. My spirit had floated nearby, trying to explain. “No, he didn’t cheat on me.” “I know him. He would never do something like that.” “I was the one who forced him to be with me.” “He didn’t betray me. He can go back to the woman he loves now.” “These past ten years, I’m the one who wronged him.” “Jimmy, I’m dead. He’s free.” But no one could hear me. That day was the seventh day after my death. I walked toward the small group. Toby’s gaze landed on me, his eyes cold as ice. He was looking at me as if to say: You’re despicable, Claire. Sending Jimmy to hit on Rosalyn. Jimmy stood opposite them, his usually wild hair looking limp and defeated. Looking at the sea of roses and the mountain of luxury gifts piled in his sports car, I couldn’t help but grimace at his tacky taste. Any normal girl would be dying of secondhand embarrassment from a spectacle like this. Jimmy must have had rocks for brains to think this was a good idea. He seemed to be realizing it himself now. He shot me a desperate look and whispered, “Help me.” “If my dad sees I’m back in the country and pulling this kind of stunt, I’m dead meat!” I rolled my eyes so hard I thought they’d get stuck. “You didn’t ask for my help before you pulled this stunt. Now that you’ve made a fool of yourself, it’s too late to ask for a rescue!” Jimmy grit his teeth. “It wasn’t my idea! I just wanted to give her some flowers and confess. My idiot friends are the ones who turned it into this circus.” I glanced over and, sure enough, saw a few of his usual cronies huddled together, whispering and snickering. As the crowd grew more restless, Jimmy clenched his jaw and made a final, desperate offer. “Save me, and I’ll steal my dad’s yacht for you. We can throw a party. With male models.” I nodded instantly. “Deal.” I turned, took the bouquet of roses from Jimmy’s hand, and fixed Rosalyn with my most deeply emotional gaze. “Rosalyn, I’ve admired you for so long. Do you like these roses? I had them flown in fresh from Bulgaria just for you.” Then, as if just noticing Toby, I gasped and covered my mouth in feigned shock. “Oh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t realize you already had a boyfriend.” I pretended to tear up. “It seems I was a step too late. In the next life, I’ll be sure to find you sooner!” From the crowd, a student piped up. “Wait, didn’t Claire used to be chasing Toby?” Rosalyn looked at me, her expression confused. I froze. This was not going according to plan. Another student offered an explanation. “It’s a diversion tactic! She was trying to weaken the enemy from within, but when that failed, she decided to go all in!” A murmur of understanding went through the crowd. Rosalyn’s expression grew complicated, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my heartbroken performance. “My lady, you must be happy. I shall retreat. And with my retreat…” Jimmy clamped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, she’s just overcome with grief and talking nonsense. I’ll take her somewhere to recover.” I was just getting into character and shot him an indignant glare. Across from us, Rosalyn reached out a hand dramatically, but before she could say anything, Toby covered her mouth too. And just like that, the confessor and the confessee were both silenced and dragged away by their respective captors. As we were leaving, I glanced back one last time. Toby’s eyes were dark, inscrutable. Rosalyn was staring after us, a lost look on her face. And Jimmy and I were running for our lives. 5 The next time I saw Toby was at the celebration party for his family company’s successful new project. I was there with my father. Mr. Grant was in high spirits, pulling Toby along as he came to toast our table. “We really owe it all to you and Claire this time,” he beamed. “My friend, Mr. Lee, just opened a new amusement park and invited all the kids to go have some fun, help him get the word out.” I politely declined. “I’ve been quite busy lately. I’m afraid I’ll have to miss out on the fun, Uncle.” My dad chimed in to explain. “She’s preparing her applications to study abroad. There’s a lot to get done.” Toby’s head snapped up, and he stared at me, his gaze intense. I pretended not to notice. He probably thought I was following his precious Rosalyn overseas to torment her. We weren’t even applying to schools in the same country. Still, Toby pressed. “It’s just for a day. Everyone’s going. It’ll be a good way to relax.” His father quickly agreed. “Exactly! One day won’t hurt anything.” “Toby, you take good care of your little sister Claire, make sure she stays safe.” I was still trying to come up with another excuse when I heard Toby quickly agree. I blinked, surprised. He was acting strangely tonight. In my last life, I was the one who arranged this trip. I’d assumed that since I hadn’t planned it this time, it wouldn’t happen. My dad nudged me, a conspiratorial glint in his eye. He whispered in my ear, “I’ve been observing that Toby boy. He seems to have good character—smart, hardworking. A suitable marriage prospect. You’re not getting any younger, you know. It’s time you started dating.” “Besides, didn’t you want to marry him before?” I was speechless. How was I supposed to tell him I’d already test-driven this “suitable prospect”? The packaging was fine, but the contents were a little faulty. “Dad, someone who’s good for marriage isn’t always good for dating. Besides, he already has someone he likes.” My dad looked crestfallen. “See? You waited too long to make your move!” I rolled my eyes and walked away. Too long? He’d been in love with Rosalyn since they were kids. The only way I could have been earlier is if I’d made my move in the womb.

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James Kane’s latest mistress was a real firecracker. She showed up pregnant and screaming at the office. Everyone’s head snapped toward me. Someone whispered to her, trying to de-escalate. “You should get out of here. Mrs. Kane will beat you until you miscarry. She lost her mind a long time ago.” James, rushing to the scene, pulled the mistress behind him, his eyes wary as he faced me. “If you’re going to hit someone, hit me. Don’t you dare touch her.” The entire office fell deathly silent, everyone waiting for my reaction. Waiting for me to erupt into hysterics, to shatter everything in sight, just like I used to. But instead, I turned to leave. As I walked, I admired my fresh manicure. A simple, dusty rose. Perfect for my date tonight. I’d gone to so much trouble to look this beautiful today. I wasn’t about to let it get ruined. 1 I had just stepped out of the conference room when a woman’s voice called out from behind me. “Excuse me, do you know where I can find Summer Sterling?” Someone answered in a hushed tone. “You need an appointment to see Mrs. Kane.” The woman’s voice immediately rose, laced with a certain brash confidence. “I’m Mr. Kane’s partner. I need to have a little chat with her.” It was strange. Her voice wasn’t that loud, but the words hung in the air, and the entire lobby fell silent. The air felt thick, every eye turning silently toward me. The crowd parted automatically, creating a path. The woman understood immediately. She walked straight toward me. Her footsteps stopped right behind me, carrying a cloud of cloying perfume. “You’re Summer Sterling?” I turned and calmly looked her over. She was thin, her body wrapped in a tight white dress that made her look even more fragile. Except for her belly, which swelled conspicuously, like a grotesquely oversized fruit on a delicate stem. She tilted her chin up at me, her expression defiant. “I’m here to tell you that James is mine now. It’s been over between you two for a long time. He told me himself—the sight of you makes him sick! If you have any shame left, you’ll get lost and stop clinging to him!” I almost laughed. “I’m clinging to him?” “Still playing dumb!” She ignited like a match, her voice turning shrill. “Last night, he was supposed to be with me for my prenatal check-up, but you called and he went running right back! What else can you do besides trap him with that ‘Mrs. Kane’ title? Do you have any idea how much he despises you?!” So that was it. No wonder James was so late for our fifth wedding anniversary last night. He was busy escorting his little mistress to a doctor’s appointment. I raised a hand, intending to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear. But she flinched back violently, her hands flying to shield her stomach as she shrieked, “What do you think you’re doing?! Are you going to hit a pregnant woman in front of all these people?!” I watched her, a small smirk playing on my lips. “Well, since you’ve already accused me, I might as well do something to earn the reputation, right?” Her face went white, and she stumbled back toward the edge of the crowd. Someone whispered to her, “You need to leave. Mrs. Kane… she’s made several of his mistresses miscarry before. She’s unhinged. You can’t win. Go, before she really does something!” The girl hesitated for a few seconds, then seemed to gather her courage, taking another step forward to glare at me. “You’ll pay for all the terrible things you’ve done! You’ll get what’s coming to you!” She paused, a bright smile spreading across her face. “In fact, you already are. You love James so much, but he doesn’t love you back! That’s your punishment!” 2 A collective gasp went through the room. I just watched her, my expression unreadable. This girl was different from the others James had picked. Most of them were the weeping, damsel-in-distress type. But she was like a wild rose, all thorns. Spitfire. Direct. Full of aggression. She tried to wound me with the fact that James didn’t love me, but it was such an amateur move. I’d heard those same words repeated by a parade of women over the years. My heart had long since grown a thick callus. The words didn’t hurt anymore. But she really shouldn’t have bothered me today. I had been in such a good mood—new nails, fresh makeup, an important date planned. And now, thanks to her little scene, that good mood had vanished like smoke in the wind. I sighed internally. These women were all the same. They’d find me, then they’d harass me. Either to flaunt how much James adored them, or to earnestly plead with me to let him go. But they never listened when I told them the truth: I didn’t love James anymore. They just kept coming, one after another, shattering my peace. At first, it was a headache. Then I discovered a simple solution: one slap. They would whimper and run into James’s arms, get the attention and pity they craved, and finally, finally leave me alone. My gaze settled on her face. A delicate, palm-sized face with pale skin. The perfect shape for slapping. It wouldn’t take much effort. So, without any hesitation, I raised my hand and swung, clean and sharp, right at that face. She squeezed her eyes shut, her body curling into a ball. But the expected crack of a slap never came. My wrist was caught mid-air, held in a powerful grip that sent a jolt of pain through my bones. “Summer!” It was James. 3 James shielded the girl completely, his eyes fixed on me, full of suspicion. “Summer, if you’re going to hit someone, hit me. Don’t you dare touch her.” Before he even finished, the girl started to sob. Her voice was thick with tears, but her words were crystal clear. “Why should she hit you?! James, she’s the one clinging to you, refusing to sign the divorce papers! You two haven’t been a real couple in years, you don’t even want to touch her! You’ve wanted out for so long, and she’s the one holding you back!” James immediately let go of my wrist and turned to wipe the tears from the girl’s—Aria’s—face with the pad of his thumb. “Don’t cry, don’t cry. It’s not good for the baby. I’ll get the divorce. I promise, I’ll find a way.” Aria’s shoulders trembled as she cried, and she leaned into his embrace, her voice muffled against his chest. “I just feel so bad for you… for all the pain you’ve had to endure in that marriage.” James let out a low chuckle. “It’s nothing. As long as you and the baby are safe and healthy, none of it matters.” The girl’s sobs turned into a small, contented laugh. The entire lobby was so quiet you could hear the hum of the air conditioning. Everyone looked from them, to me, and back again. Their expressions were a mix of curiosity, pity, and the sheer thrill of watching a good show. I could even catch a few heavily suppressed whispers. “Why isn’t Mrs. Kane doing anything this time?” “She’s probably waiting to pull out the big guns. I bet that baby’s not making it to term…” I shook my head wearily. I’d put so much effort into looking beautiful today. I couldn’t let it get messed up. I turned to leave. A clear, steady male voice sounded from behind me. “Having a bit of fun, Mr. Kane?” The crowd parted again, and a tall, imposing figure, flanked by several executives, walked toward us. The man’s eyes landed on me first, his expression dark and unreadable. After a few seconds, his gaze shifted to James. A flicker of awkwardness crossed James’s face. He stepped forward and extended a hand toward the newcomer, his tone overly formal. “Mr. Davenport. Please excuse the mess.” Rhys Davenport glanced coolly at the outstretched hand but made no move to shake it. “Always surrounded by beautiful women, Mr. Kane. Is there any time left for business?” James’s hand froze in mid-air, and his face instantly soured. The shareholders standing nearby quickly jumped in, laughing nervously. “Just joking, Mr. Davenport! Our Mr. Kane is just too charming for his own good. It’s a testament to his abilities, haha…” I had no interest in watching the rest of this farce. I turned to go. “Summer!” James called out after me. “Where are you going? Mr. Davenport was your classmate in college. You should at least stay and entertain an old friend.” I didn’t stop, just threw a cool reply over my shoulder. “I’m busy.” Then, Rhys’s voice cut in from behind me. “I’ll be skipping the welcome dinner tonight. I have a date with my girlfriend. I’ll be leaving now.” James quickly responded, “Congratulations, Mr. Davenport! Then perhaps another time. Bring your girlfriend along, we’ll all have a meal together.” Rhys let out a soft, ambiguous laugh but didn’t answer. His eyes lingered on my back for a brief moment before he turned and headed for the same exit I was walking toward. 4 The moment I opened my car door, a shadow fell over me. An all-consuming kiss descended, powerful and demanding, stealing the air from my lungs. Just before I thought I would pass out from lack of oxygen, he finally released me. In the dim light of the parking garage, his eyes churned with a dark tide I couldn’t decipher. His large hand stroked my back, helping me calm my ragged breathing. I leaned against his chest, quietly steadying myself. Once my breathing had evened out, I spoke, my voice lazy. “Alright, you can go on your date now. I’m heading home.” From above me came his deep voice, laced with something between amusement and exasperation. “And who do you think my girlfriend is?” I looked up, meeting his gaze in the gloom, my tone flat. “Rhys, I’m already letting you be my lover. Now you want a title? You can’t have everything.” He didn’t get angry. Instead, he let out a low chuckle, his arms tightening around me. “James cycles through women like they’re disposable. Are you really going to waste your whole life on him like this? Is it worth it?” “No.” My answer was instant, without a shred of hesitation. “But I’m not divorcing him.” The only sound in the car was our breathing. After a long moment, he spoke again. “My looks, my family, my wealth… even how I feel about you. In what way am I inferior to him? Summer, I don’t understand.” I smiled softly, my fingers toying with the buttons on his suit jacket. “I want the company. And I want the money. For those two things, I can tolerate being married to James Kane.” It was the first time I had ever voiced my true motivations to anyone. It wasn’t about love or attachment. It was about cold, hard reality. I wanted the money. I had been there with James from the beginning, when he had nothing. I practically built that company with my own two hands. When I stepped back and let him take full control, it wasn’t because I was incapable. It was because I trusted him. We were both orphans. We only had each other in the world. But reality taught me that my trust had been misplaced. After the love was gone and I was exhausted, there were times when I was pushed to the brink, times I considered walking away with nothing just for a moment of peace. But I couldn’t stomach it. Why should the empire I built be split in half, at best, just so he could share it with his whores? I would rather rot in this swamp with him than watch what was mine be given to those two. Rhys raised an eyebrow. Then, a low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “You little gold-digger,” he murmured, lowering his head until our foreheads touched, his voice a deep whisper. “I’ll help you.” 计费点 This time, I was the one who kissed him first. The car started smoothly, pulling out of the underground garage. As we passed the exit, the headlights swept across James and his mistress, who was clinging to him by the side of the road. James glanced instinctively toward the car. Through the tinted window, he saw me locked in a passionate, all-consuming kiss with Rhys Davenport. 5 I pushed open the door to my house. Rhys had insisted that last night was the 100-day anniversary of our relationship and had pressed a Harry Winston diamond ring into my hand. The box felt heavy in my purse. I needed to put it away safely. The entryway lights were off, and the living room was dim. As I took off my shoes, I noticed a figure sitting on the sofa. Before I could make out who it was, a voice, hoarse from a sleepless night, spoke. “Where were you last night?” It was James. I frowned slightly, wondering why he was even asking. It dawned on me then that he must have been waiting up all night. We had long since settled into a routine of silent warfare, so I didn’t answer, simply walked toward the bedroom. “Sign it.” His voice came from behind me. I turned back. On the coffee table was a document, black ink on white paper. Divorce papers. “No,” I said, my voice flat. He let out a sharp, humorless laugh and stood up. “Summer, what’s the point of clinging on like this? She’s pregnant. She needs a proper family. Even if you won’t think about us, can’t you think about an innocent child?” “A child?” I repeated the word softly, looking up at him. “At the rate you’re going, will there be another woman, another child who needs a family in two months? Are you planning to marry every single one of them, give every child your name?” His brow furrowed, but his tone softened slightly. “She’s different. Aria’s an orphan. She only has me.” “An orphan?” I echoed the word, a sense of absurdity rising in my chest. And what was I? Who was it that stood under the old locust tree at the orphanage, his eyes red-rimmed, and said to me, “Summer, we’re both orphans. We only have each other in this world. Don’t leave me.” For those words, I gave up the chance to be adopted, choosing to stay at the orphanage with him. Seeing that I was unmoved, James sighed and explained further. “She has Long QT syndrome.” I froze. A congenital heart condition. Emotional distress or overexertion could trigger sudden death. The orphanage never had healthy baby boys. It was because of this condition that James had been abandoned. In the early days of our business, how many nights had I spent working alone at the office, all because he couldn’t risk overworking himself? A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Pregnancy with that condition is extremely high-risk. She could die on the delivery table. When you were enjoying yourself without a condom, did it ever occur to you that she might die on an operating table?” “I chose to!” A figure rushed out from a corner of the room. The girl, her belly prominent, her chin held high. “You couldn’t have a child all these years. This is James’s only child. Since you know I’m risking my life, you should sign the papers and give me some peace of mind. It would be better for me and the baby. Just sign it!” I looked at her calmly. “Aria Vance.” That was her name. Her expression shifted. “You investigated me?” I ignored her question. “When you were a little girl, you said you wanted to be a scientist. Did you ever achieve that dream?” She was stunned into silence. I smiled faintly. “I remember you.” She was one of the children James and I had sponsored. I remembered a little girl hiding behind the orphanage director, her eyes shining as I gave her a set of encyclopedias, whispering shyly, “Thank you, sister Summer. I’m going to be a scientist when I grow up.” It was also her who had once innocently taken our hands and said, “I wish sister Summer and brother James will be together forever.” The clear, bright eyes from my memory were now clouded with raw desire. “Scientist…” Aria scoffed. “All I want now is to be with James. You promised you would always support me. Well, giving me James is the best support you can offer.” I smiled sweetly. “No.” “If you don’t give my child a legitimate name, I’ll die right here in front of you!” “Be my guest.” My tone was placid. “You have a heart condition anyway. You won’t live long.” As I turned to leave, Aria lunged forward and grabbed my arm. In the struggle, the Harry Winston ring slipped from my fingers, clattering to the floor. My cashmere coat was pulled from my shoulders, revealing the torn white silk shirt underneath. And then, everyone froze. The marks from Rhys’s kisses last night were laid bare in the morning light.

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The day my dad brought his real daughter home, the whole family heard her thoughts: 【In my last life, Mom and Dad were all tricked and killed by Nora’s schemes. This time, I have to save this family!】 I glanced at my wall, covered in martial arts awards, then at her, a girl who looked like a strong breeze could knock her over. Me, the national kickboxing champion, the MMA golden belt holder, the MVP of the professional fighting league. When would I even have the time to scheme against someone? Schemes? Please. I could kill a man with one punch. 1. The day my father brought Yena Howard to our door, I was in our home gym, dripping sweat in a sports bra and shorts. The girl in the mirror had lean, powerful muscle lines and healthy, sun-kissed skin. I’d just set down a dumbbell when I heard a muffled sob from downstairs. I went down to find a girl sitting between my parents on the sofa. She was a vision in white, her long, dark hair falling straight over her fragile shoulders. She was carefully cradling a cup of tea my mother had handed her. Her posture, her aura—she was the spitting image of my mother, Eleanor Wilde, twenty years younger. “Nora, you’re here.” My mother looked up, her gaze flickering with a complex emotion. “This is Yena. Your father brought her home. She says… she’s our biological daughter. The nurse was busy and mixed up the bracelets, so both families took home the wrong baby. Your biological parents… they passed away in a car accident a few years ago.” I raised an eyebrow, but before I could speak, a clear, delicate voice drilled into my head. 【I’m seeing Nora again. She’s the one who destroyed our family. Sniffle… it was all my fault. Mom and Dad spoiled me so much to make up for my lost years that Nora got jealous. She colluded with some lowlife to bankrupt the company, and in the end, Mom and Dad jumped from a building together. I have to change everything this time. Come on, Yena, you can do it!】 My head whipped toward Yena. What was she talking about? Me, destroy my family? She was still looking down, demurely sipping her tea. Her lips hadn’t moved. At the same time, I saw my brother, Leo, coming down the stairs. He froze on the landing, his shock undisguised as his eyes darted between Yena and me. My parents were staring at the girl with wide, stunned eyes. I got it instantly. We could all hear her. A small smirk played on my lips. Life really was stranger than fiction. “Oh?” I flopped onto the armchair opposite them, my posture relaxed. “Proof?” Yena looked up, her eyes brimming with tears. She glanced at me, then at my mother, her voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz. “I… I have the DNA report…” She pulled a file from a worn, faded bag at her side. My father’s voice was grim. “We checked it. The report is authentic. We even ran a new test with your mother’s blood sample, just in case. It confirms Yena is our daughter.” My mother took the report, her eyes scanning it quickly. Her own eyes reddened, and she pulled Yena into a fierce hug. “My daughter! You’ve suffered so much!” Leo walked over, giving me a complicated look before his gaze settled on Yena. His usual lazy, joking demeanor was gone, replaced by a gentle tone. “Don’t be afraid. You’re home now.” 【That’s my brother… he looks so young. I haven’t seen him in so long… He’s looking at me so gently. He had such a tragic end in my last life. Nora secretly drugged him and ruined his health. This time, I have to protect him!】 Leo stiffened, his head turning to look at my wall of trophies. Drugged him? She could probably kill three of him with one punch. Why would she need drugs? I was a little speechless myself, which made me seriously doubt the validity of her “reincarnated” thoughts. Initially, I’d felt a pang of guilt for Yena. While the switch wasn’t my fault, her worn clothes told me she hadn’t had an easy life. I was fully prepared to give everything back to her, even move out if she wanted. But the moment she arrived, she started slinging these baseless accusations from some supposed past life. It seemed this frail, innocent girl wasn’t as harmless as she looked. Eleanor’s gaze also fell on me. Besides her obsession with training, this child she had raised was outstanding in every way—academics, character, social graces. How could such a brilliant girl with such clear eyes be the same malicious person from Yena’s thoughts? It was impossible to believe. She hesitated, then said, “Nora, don’t you worry. We’ve raised you for twenty years, and this family can certainly afford to support two daughters. From now on, you and Yena are both our children.” “That’s right, sister.” Yena ran over and took my hand. 【Mom is too soft-hearted. But I have to try. Maybe I can change her this time around?】 My lip twitched. “You know,” I began, “I think you should know that we can hear your—” Before I could finish, my parents and Leo looked at me in horror as my vision went black, and I collapsed. 2. I woke up in my own bed. Leo was sitting by my side, and the moment I opened my eyes, he handed me a glass of warm water. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice laced with concern. “Mom and I tried to test it. Every time we mention her inner voice in front of her, something weird happens and we get cut off. I don’t know what her deal is. Nora, we know you’re not that kind of person, and don’t even get me started on the ‘lowlife’ part.” He paused, glancing at me carefully. “Honestly, in all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you give any guy the time of day.” Well, I guess my complete lack of a love life was my alibi. “Leo,” I said, taking the water, “what’s the plan now?” He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Dad feels guilty. Mom’s heart breaks for her. The fact is, she’s our biological sister. As for those bizarre thoughts… she’s probably just desperate for attention. Don’t take it to heart. Since we can’t prove any of it, we’ll have to assume for now that it’s just nonsense brought on by trauma. Mom and Dad want her to stay and get settled. And…” He looked at me, his expression softening. “You’re the sister I grew up with. That will never change.” Won’t it? But with guilt and blood ties twisting together, and Yena constantly whispering poison in their minds, how long could “never” last? When we went downstairs, the atmosphere was tense. Yena was nestled against my mother like a delicate white flower. Her eyes were still red, making her look like a frightened bunny. “Sister, are you okay? I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault…” Her voice was a weak, tearful whisper. 【What happened to her? She fainted right when I was holding her hand. I hope Mom and Dad don’t misunderstand. No, I can’t think like that. It was just a coincidence.】 My mother quickly took her hand. “Yena, don’t say that. It has nothing to do with you.” She looked at me, a pleading look in her eyes, as if begging me to be magnanimous. My father, Marcus Wilde, cleared his throat. “It’s good that you’re awake, Nora. Yena will be living with us from now on. You two… try to get along.” Impressive. In the short time I was unconscious, she’d already won over my parents and subtly turned them against me. I just shrugged and sat down on the sofa. Just as Yena was about to say something else, the doorbell rang. My supposed fiancé, Preston Hayes, had arrived. He was in a suit, clearly having rushed over from his office after hearing the news. His eyes fell on me first, then scanned the room. Yena’s eyes lit up instantly. She looked down, twisting the hem of her dress, the picture of a shy girl who wanted to approach but didn’t dare. 【Preston’s here! He’s so handsome today! He looked at me! In my last life, Preston chose Nora out of obligation, but then he realized we were the ones who were truly in love. Mom and Dad even approved of us being together. It was wonderful.】 Yena’s ears turned pink. My parents exchanged a look. If this was a possible future, it was better to let the two of them get acquainted. Better to be safe than sorry when it came to their children’s happiness. Preston’s brow furrowed slightly as he stared at Yena in shock. Great. Another one joins the mind-reading club. He quickly recovered, greeting my parents before turning to Yena with a polite, practiced warmth. “Miss Howard, welcome home.” Finally, he came to me. “Nora, are you alright?” “Why wouldn’t I be?” I said flatly. Leo broke the awkward silence. “Preston, perfect timing. We’re taking Yena shopping in a few days. She just got here and needs everything. You should come with us.” Preston’s gaze swept over Yena’s worn dress, which was completely out of place in our lavish home. A flicker of pity crossed his face, and he nodded. “Of course.” 【Yes, he agreed! I have to be on my best behavior. I hope we can be together openly this time around.】 3. For the next few days, I barely left the house. An international MMA tournament was coming up next month, and I had been preparing for it for a year. In this final stretch, I poured all my energy into high-intensity training. After getting nowhere with me, Yena seemed to give up on her quest for sisterly bonding and focused all her attention on my parents and Leo. At first, I saw them interact with a degree of caution, but they couldn’t resist Yena’s daily charm offensive. Soon, the four of them were inseparable, their bond growing stronger by the day. The huge mansion was often empty except for me and the staff. Leo took her to a few high-society parties. When he got back, he’d scratch his head and say, “You know, Yena’s actually pretty great. All my friends said she’s so sweet and well-behaved.” A hint of pride had already crept into his voice. I tried to spend some time with my parents, but Yena’s inner voice would immediately pipe up: 【Oh no, Nora’s alone with Mom and Dad. I can’t let her. I have to watch her so she doesn’t get a chance to hurt them.】 And then she would magically appear, wedging herself between us, and my parents’ eyes would fill with suspicion. And that was the thing. Yena’s predictions were coming true. She thought that my mother’s favorite rose bush in the garden would inexplicably wither the next day, and sure enough, the gardener reported it had wilted. She mentally warned my father that an antique brush washer in his study had a hairline crack and to be careful. A few days later, my father was admiring it when it broke in two with a gentle tap. She even fretted internally before one of my brother’s business dinners: 【I hope Leo doesn’t drink the wine that Mr. Henderson offers him tonight. An opponent drugged it. In my last life, he drank it, made a fool of himself, and lost a huge deal.】 That night, Leo was on high alert. He noticed something off about Henderson’s assistant’s eyes, made an excuse to refuse the drink, and later discovered it had indeed been tampered with. One by one, everything she predicted came true—except for the parts about me. The way my family looked at Yena transformed into pure adoration and affection. I even started to see suspicion in my mother’s eyes when she looked at me. It was clear. They didn’t trust me anymore. When they were all leaving to buy Yena a new wardrobe, I declined, saying I needed to rest. Yena lowered her head and started her predictions again. 【This is just like last time. She got jealous because I stole Mom and Dad’s attention, and now she’s going to come after me. I don’t mind if she hurts me, but please, don’t let her hurt Mom and Dad…】 I turned and walked away, ignoring the sounds of them comforting her behind me. Leo noticed my growing distance and sought me out when he returned. “You saw, didn’t you?” he said, studying my face. “Saw what?” “Don’t get the wrong idea. Yena didn’t ask for any of those gifts. We bought them for her. She’s such a good kid. She’s never been out with us before, and she missed out on twenty years of presents. It’s not her fault. Don’t take it out on her.” As he spoke, the affection for Yena in his eyes deepened. I felt a wave of nausea. “What did I do? I haven’t gone near her in days. Have you lost your mind? You all actually believe those thoughts of hers?” “But they’ve all come true! I just don’t want you to become the person she described,” he said, his voice dropping, his confidence wavering. Yena appeared out of nowhere, her inner voice arriving with her. 【Leo is trying to explain things to Nora for me. He’s so sweet. He cares about me more and more. It looks like Nora is really angry. Did I do something wrong? It’s all my fault. Nora is the most important, after all.】 Leo seemed to draw strength from her presence. “Just stay away from her. She’s not like you, so tough and dominant all the time. Besides, you owe her…” Tough? Owe her? Did this idiot forget who protected his chubby ass when he was getting bullied as a kid? Leo, lost in the thrill of finally being a protector, raised his voice, only to be met with my fist. Blood gushed from his nose as he hit the floor with a thud and didn’t move. I rolled my eyes. He seemed to have forgotten who he was messing with. Ignoring the panicked cries of “Leo! Leo, what happened?!” behind me, I went back to my room. The person I was closest to in this family now believed her. It was time for me to go. 4. I came out with my bags packed to find my parents sitting side-by-side on the main sofa, their faces grim. Yena was next to them, sobbing softly, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Even Preston was there, whispering words of comfort to her. The moment I appeared, all eyes snapped to me. There was a brief flicker of confusion at my luggage, but it was quickly replaced by disappointment and anger. What now? “Nora,” my father began, his voice simmering with rage, “do you have anything to say for yourself?” I stopped in my tracks. “About what? Leo started it.” “Still playing dumb!” My mother’s voice trembled as she pointed at the still-sobbing Yena. “You poisoned Yena’s water! If your father hadn’t found out, do you have any idea what would have happened?” My heart sank. What had she done now? When my eyes met Yena’s, she flinched as if she’d been struck, and her tears flowed even faster. “Sister… I-I’m sorry…” she choked out. “I know I shouldn’t have come back and competed for attention… but… but I really wanted to see Mom and Dad. I love them so much…” I understood immediately. She’d framed me. A cheap, yet brutally effective, tactic. The strange thing was, her inner voice never seemed to pop up when it could expose her. “I never touched her water, and I certainly didn’t poison it,” I said coldly, my voice steady. “You’re still denying it!” My father slammed his hand on the coffee table and shot to his feet. “The maid saw you hovering around the kitchen! Who else would do something like this to Yena? Nora, I was so wrong about you! I thought you were just stubborn, but I never imagined you were so petty, so vile!” The maid saw me? What a convenient witness. Preston stood up and looked at me, his eyes filled with a quiet disappointment. “Nora, even if you didn’t do it, you should still apologize to Yena.” His tone made it clear he’d already decided I was guilty. Nora? Yena? It seemed her little prediction about them getting together was coming true. “Since you all believe that,” I cut him off, my gaze sweeping over all of them, “then anything I say is pointless. If there’s no room for me here, I’ll leave.” I straightened my back, refusing to look at any of them again, and walked toward the front door. “Wait,” Preston said, catching up to me with Yena in tow. His face was set with determination. “I came here to break off our engagement. It’s true. I’ve fallen in love with Yena.” He looked at me with pity. “Don’t blame me, Nora. You’ve enjoyed Yena’s life as an heiress for twenty years. You’re strong. She needs me more than you do.” Seriously? Was he delusional? Our families had a simple business arrangement. I would never be interested in a pretty boy like him who I could flatten with one punch. Of course, Preston couldn’t hear my thoughts. He mistook my speechless disbelief for heartbreak. He went to Yena and took her hand, the two of them gazing at each other lovingly. “Nora, I promise, as long as you’re good to Yena, I’ll still think of you as a sis—” He turned back to me, the pity on his face freezing. I was already gone. It seemed things weren’t going according to his script. Seeing Preston staring blankly in my direction, Yena grew anxious. 【Oh no, is she playing hard to get? But Preston is all I have. I was alone for so many years, and he’s the only one who’s ever been this kind to me. But if Nora wants him… I… I guess I could let her have him.】 Preston snapped out of his daze and pulled Yena into a hug. “It’s okay, Yena. You’re just too kind.” He was right. Just as Yena thought, she must be playing hard to get. After all, besides her family, he was the only man who had ever gotten close to her. Preston relaxed completely, gently stroking her hair. After I left, I used the prize money from my competitions to buy a small house. Meanwhile, back at the Wilde mansion, Yena was in her room, on the phone. “Mom, you were so right. It worked. Nora’s gone now. Haha, I have everything that was hers.” She paused, a cold smile twisting her lips. “Okay, it’s time for the next step.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386793”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

The day I discovered I wasn’t a true Sterling—the day the lie of my life unraveled—was the day I stopped fighting. No more frantic calls to check his whereabouts, no more hysterical accusations. I became the quiet, obedient wife Nate Sterling had always wanted. My father’s warning echoed in my mind, cold and sharp. “Other heiresses have their families to fall back on after a divorce. You? An imposter? What will you have left?” So, I behaved. Even when I found a half-empty packet of morning-after pills in his coat pocket, I pretended I saw nothing. After all, when you’re fighting for survival, who has the energy for heartbreak? But when Nate saw me playing dumb, his expression didn’t soften with relief. It hardened into something I couldn’t read. 1 As I took Nate’s blazer from him, a small box tumbled out and clattered onto the hardwood floor. My gaze flickered to it for a single, searing second before I looked away. It was a box of emergency contraception. “You dropped something,” I said, my voice carefully neutral as if I hadn’t seen the words on the packaging. “I’ll go start the laundry.” I tried to turn away, but his hand shot out, his fingers closing around my wrist like a steel trap. I looked back. Nate was tall, his presence always commanding. He had a strong brow and a straight nose, framed by impossibly long lashes. From this angle, looking up at his sharp profile, he was pure intimidation. A knot of familiar anxiety tightened in my stomach. “These pills belong to Jessica,” he began, his voice low. “She’s been under a lot of pressure with the new project, and it’s messed with her cycle. Her doctor prescribed them.” He let out a tired sigh, the usual sharpness in his eyes clouded with exhaustion. “We were out with clients last night. The dress she was wearing didn’t have pockets, so she asked me to hold them for her. I just got so busy I forgot to give them back.” He met my eyes, his grip on my wrist loosening slightly. “There’s nothing going on between us. I swear.” It was the most he’d explained himself to me in years. It had to be because of the divorce papers I’d thrown at him a few weeks ago. When I remained silent, he pulled out his phone. “If you don’t believe me, I can ask her for the prescription records.” A faint smile touched my lips. “Don’t be silly. It’s such a small thing, there’s no need to bother her.” Nate froze, his eyes searching my face. “Then just now, you were…?” I knew what he was asking. I offered the perfect explanation. “I was just wondering if I should run them over to her now. We wouldn’t want to delay her treatment.” I added a thoughtful pause. “But it’s so late. It’s probably better if you give them to her tomorrow. I’ll go put the clothes in the wash.” Without waiting for a response, I slipped from his grasp and hurried away. That was close. I almost let the mask slip. My father’s words were a constant mantra: In a world of wealth and power, feelings are a liability. Profit is everything. Instead of worrying if he loves you, you should be worrying about what happens to a fake heiress like you if he leaves you. But as I turned my back, I didn’t see the shadow that fell across Nate’s face, his expression turning dark and unreadable. 2 I was deep asleep when the bed dipped beside me. Nate slid under the covers, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me tight against his chest. His warm breath ghosted over the back of my neck. “Our fifth anniversary is coming up,” he murmured. “I’ll take you to see the Northern Lights. In Iceland. Like you’ve always wanted.” My body went rigid. He’d made the same promise for our last anniversary. He’d canceled at the last minute for Jessica. “We’ll see,” I mumbled into my pillow. The arms around my waist tightened instantly, painfully. I let out a small hiss and instinctively tried to pull away. “Why?” His voice was a low growl, pinning me in place. “You always wanted to see the auroras with me. You said kissing the person you love under the Northern Lights was the most romantic thing in the world.” My eyes were closed, my voice barely a whisper. “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t waste time on pointless things like that.” I faked a yawn. “Besides, the anniversary is still a few days away. Let’s talk about it later. I’m so tired, Nate. I need to sleep.” I let my breathing even out, pretending to drift off. The truth was, I’d already seen the Northern Lights. I booked the ticket the night I found out I was a fraud. A trip like that costs a small fortune, upwards of thirty thousand dollars. I figured I’d better enjoy the Sterling money while I still could. As for the heartbreak? That could wait. 3 When I woke up the next morning, Nate was already gone. I checked my phone. A message from him was waiting. Meds are on the counter. Don’t forget to take them. I have a congenital heart condition. Back when I was still the prized Sterling heiress, no one wanted to marry me. The disease was a death sentence; I could drop dead at any moment. Marriages in our circle were business transactions, and what good was a merger if one of the assets was fatally flawed? A widower was damaged goods on the marriage market. But Nate had wanted me. And even though I was an heiress, my family wasn’t exactly a united front. My father, for all his social standing, had an entire soccer team’s worth of illegitimate children scattered around. When my family realized my only value—a strategic marriage—was compromised by my health, they couldn’t even be bothered to pay for my treatment. The rich aren’t generous by nature. They are lavish with those who benefit them and ruthlessly selfish with those who don’t. But Nate didn’t care about my condition. He fought his parents, ignored the gossip, and married me in the most extravagant wedding the city had ever seen. The first thing he did after we were married was find me the best cardiac specialist in the country. Two years ago, I finally had a transplant. I was slowly, carefully, recovering. Everything was supposed to be perfect. But somewhere in the last five years, everything had changed. Nate started coming home later and later. His shirts smelled of a perfume that wasn’t mine. His phone was suddenly off-limits. I told myself to endure it. My father was a misogynist who believed women had no place in business, so I’d never learned how to manage a company. I couldn’t help Nate with his work. All I could do was be a supportive wife. Don’t worry about it, I’d tell myself. It’s just work. Then, his childhood friend, Jessica, returned from overseas. And started working at his company. Nate admired her. He praised her sharp business acumen, her cool, strategic mind. He was a man of few compliments, but he would praise her openly, repeatedly, in front of everyone. Slowly, the whispers started. Jessica Hayes and Nate Sterling. They’re the real power couple. Rumor had it they were supposed to have an arranged marriage years ago, but it was suddenly called off. She went abroad to chase her dreams; he stayed to build his empire. My friends warned me to be careful. I told them they were just friends, colleagues. It was impossible to avoid each other at work. Then Nate’s actions made a fool of me. This was a man so ruthless with his time that when I was burning up with a fever from COVID, he told me to “hang in there” until he closed a deal before taking me to the hospital. Yet when Jessica let out a single sneeze in a meeting, he walked away from a ten-million-dollar contract to personally drive her to the clinic. It kept happening. During the day, his time belonged to his work; he told me not to distract him with too many texts or calls. After work, his time belonged to Jessica; he told me he needed his personal space, that I couldn’t control his friendships. Every time he chose her over me, I wanted to scream, to talk it out, to make him understand. But there was no talking. He never gave me the chance. One night, I refused to let him leave. I stood my ground and told him how much his relationship with Jessica hurt me, how many lines they had crossed. I thought maybe, finally, we could fix this. His response was a cold splash of water on my hope. “We’re just friends,” he said, his tone flat. “If something was going to happen between us, it would have happened long ago. It wouldn’t have waited for you.” That shut me up. He was right. In every conceivable way, Jessica was better than me. I fell silent and let him walk out the door to go to her. Then came the party. A gathering with the other corporate wives. One of them, with a malicious glint in her eye, showed me a photo on her phone. Under the soft glow of a streetlight, Nate was holding a drunk Jessica in his arms. In his other hand, he carried her high heels. 4 Nate hated drinking. He hated the way alcohol made people lose control, and he despised drunk people. For his last birthday, everyone wanted to toast him. He couldn’t refuse them all, so as his wife, I drank for him. Glass after glass. But my tolerance is terrible. The mix of red wine and whiskey sent me reeling. I spent half the night hugging the toilet, so drunk I couldn’t even lift a finger. I remember weakly asking him to help me to the shower. Nate had just frowned, looking down at me with disdain. “You wreak of alcohol,” he’d said. “It’s disgusting. I’ll have the maid help you.” But the man in the photo showed no disgust. His eyes were soft, his movements gentle, as if he were holding the most precious treasure in the world. The Sterlings and the Hayes were both powerful families. The photo went viral in our circles. Overnight, Nate and Jessica became the star-crossed lovers reunited, and I became the city’s biggest joke. It was noon the next day when Nate finally came home. “Where were you last night?” I heard myself ask, my voice numb. He didn’t seem to notice the iciness in my tone as he shrugged off his jacket. “Working late.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vise. “Working late? At Jessica’s place?” He stopped, his brow furrowing. “What are you on about now?” I held up my phone, the photo burning on the screen. My eyes were red-rimmed with unshed tears. “You’re the one who’s lost his mind! You hate the smell of alcohol, remember? But you looked pretty happy holding her!” My voice cracked. “You don’t hate the smell of alcohol. You just hate it on me.” “If you don’t love me, Nate, why did you ever marry me?!” My rage boiled over. I grabbed the nearest thing—a ceramic mug on the table—and hurled it against the wall. It was the mug we’d made together on our honeymoon. Nate, who always preferred minimalist, monochrome designs, had treasured that garish, colorful thing. He’d used it every day, ignoring the smirks from his staff who whispered he was being childish. 5 The sound of shattering porcelain echoed in the silent room. I barely registered it. “It’s only been a few years, Nate! Couldn’t you wait a little longer? If you’re tired of me, just divorce me! What’s the point of all these lies?!” He ignored me, his attention fixed on his phone, thumbs flying across the screen as he replied to a message. Only when he was done did he look up, his expression chillingly calm. “So? Is this what your interrogation is about? You’re making a scene over something this small?” “Small?” The word was a strangled gasp. “What else would you call it?” His voice grew sharper, his eyes filled with a weary annoyance. “Bonnie, every single one of our fights comes from your insecurity and your lack of trust in me. If that’s the case, what is there left for me to explain?” My hands clenched into fists. The anger I’d been swallowing for months erupted. I twisted the diamond ring off my finger and threw it at him. “Then get out! Let’s get a divorce!” The ring hit the floor and rolled under the sofa. Nate’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. Then, without another word, he turned and slammed the door behind him. I collapsed onto the sofa and cried for a long time. When the tears finally stopped, I started to pack a suitcase. As I moved the sofa cushions, my hand brushed against a piece of paper. It was a sketch. A drawing of me, smiling brightly. Around the neck of my portrait was a necklace I had never seen before. A sudden thought struck me. I pulled up the security camera feed on my tablet. 3:00 AM. Nate had come back. My heart skipped a beat. He came back? And I never even knew? On the screen, I watched him walk into the living room and see me asleep on the sofa. He moved quietly, fetching a blanket and draping it gently over me. I expected him to go upstairs and shower—he was a neat freak, always needing to wash away the outside world the moment he got home. Instead, he pulled a chair over and sat beside me. He took a sketchpad and pencil from his briefcase and began to draw. He drew for two hours. Just as he finished, the me-on-the-screen shifted in my sleep. Nate jumped, thinking I was waking up, and quickly hid the drawing under the cushion. When he saw I was still asleep, he visibly relaxed, then finally went upstairs to shower. But he didn’t go to our bedroom. He left the house again, heading back to work. So he had come back. He had been here. I just didn’t know. I stared at the drawing in my hand, a wave of guilt and confusion washing over me. Since our marriage, Nate’s father had dumped the entire Sterling empire on his shoulders. He was constantly overwhelmed, running on four or five hours of sleep a night. And yet, he had used two of those precious hours for me. To design something I’d once mentioned in passing. I remembered saying it jokingly when we got married: “It’s a shame you gave up design. I was hoping you’d make me a necklace one day.” 6 My fingers tightened around the sketch. After a long moment of hesitation, I found his number in my blocked list and unblocked it. I’m sorry. I was wrong. Nate, can we please talk? I don’t want to fight like this anymore. But he didn’t reply. I told myself he was just busy at work and put my phone away. I carefully gathered the broken pieces of the mug and began painstakingly gluing them back together. Then I went to the kitchen and cooked all his favorite dishes. Midnight came and went. Nate didn’t come home. He didn’t reply to my text. Fearing a repeat of the night before, where he’d come and gone while I slept, I made myself a cup of black coffee and sat on the sofa, forcing myself to stay awake. But the sun rose on an empty house. Nate never came back. Exhausted, I finally gave up and went to bed. When I woke up, it was already afternoon. I immediately checked the security footage, my heart pounding with anticipation. I watched for three hours. The footage showed nothing. From the moment he’d slammed the door yesterday to now, he had not returned. A deep, numbing cold spread through my chest. I decided to go to his office. The receptionist stopped me at the front desk. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Sterling, but I can’t let you up without an appointment.” I stared at her, bewildered. “You know who I am. Why do I need an appointment?” She looked genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry, ma’am. It’s Mr. Sterling’s policy. Everyone needs an appointment. That includes you.” She was just doing her job; I couldn’t blame her. As I turned to leave, I overheard two employees whispering nearby. “So that’s his wife? She’s got nothing on Ms. Hayes.” “I know, right? She’s his wife, but she needs an appointment to see him!” “Seriously. Meanwhile, Ms. Hayes can walk into his office without even knocking.” My feet froze to the floor. The dull ache in my chest sharpened into a piercing pain that made it hard to breathe. It was all so ridiculously humiliating. I had walked right into it. It wasn’t my imagination. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. Nate’s feelings for Jessica were real. So obvious that even his employees could see it. “Excuse me,” I said, my voice steady. The two women stiffened, turning around slowly. “Mrs. Sterling? Can we help you?” Their smiles were plastered on. I didn’t comment on their gossip. I glanced at their name tags—one read “Megan,” the other “Laura.” “Actually, yes,” I said softly. “I was hoping you could do me a favor. Could you give your boss a message for me?” “What is it?” Laura asked, her curiosity piqued. I took a deep breath, fighting to keep my voice from trembling, to keep the tears from falling. “Just tell him I want a divorce. And that he needs to come home tonight to sign the papers.” 7 The lobby fell into a sudden, dead silence. The two employees stared at me, their jaws slack with shock. Without waiting for their reaction, I turned and walked away. After calling my lawyer to draft the divorce agreement, I went home and started packing. There was too much to take, so I only packed a few essential clothes and personal items. Nate came home at four o’clock. I handed him the papers. “Sign it.” He paused for only a second before picking up a pen and scrawling his signature on the line. “Fine,” was all he said. Not a single word more. Compared to my agonizing struggle, he was as cold and detached as a stranger. With the papers signed, we went to the courthouse. But there was a mandatory 30-day “cooling-off” period before the divorce was final. If either of us changed our minds in that time, the process would be voided. To prevent myself from having a moment of weakness and running back to him, I moved out of our home and went back to my parents’ house. My mother thought it was just another fight and offered a few placating words. When she realized I was serious, she tried to talk me out of it. “The Sterlings are at the top of their game right now, Bonnie. Are you really going to let another woman walk in and take everything you have?” I didn’t listen. My mind was made up. There was no going back for me and Nate. Because I hated him. I hated his arrogance, his coldness, his deception. But my hatred didn’t last long. A few days later, a bombshell dropped that sent my world into a black hole. I was not my parents’ biological daughter. 8 The year I was born, a massive earthquake had struck the region. In the chaos, my birth parents were killed. The real Sterling daughter also died in the disaster. And I, an orphan, was mistakenly identified as their child and rescued. My world shattered. But the most devastating blow was the swift, absolute cruelty of my adoptive parents. They showed no mercy. They cut off all my credit cards, threw me out of the house with nothing but the clothes on my back, and publicly announced that I was not a true Sterling. Penniless, I wandered the streets that night. I was looking for a cheap motel when a group of drunk men cornered me in a dark alley. Their leering eyes and slurred taunts closed in on me. I screamed and fought, adrenaline coursing through me, and managed to break free and run. Shaking and terrified, my first instinct was to call Nate. The call connected, but it wasn’t his voice that answered. It was a woman’s, light and cheerful. “Nate’s asleep right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

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After earning my doctorate, I remained at Metropolitan General, rising to become its most esteemed neurosurgeon. When Sharon Miller, a woman from my hometown, brought in her son with a brain tumor, she came directly to me. I performed the delicate surgery, racing against time to save the boy. Yet the very next day, against all medical advice, Sharon took him home. The bumpy car ride to their rural town caused a cerebral hemorrhage, and the boy, Jake, was dead on arrival. Consumed by grief, Jake’s father confronted me after another marathon surgery. Cornering me in the hallway, he stabbed a hidden knife through my skull. As my vision faded, I saw my junior colleague, Angela, rush to my side. Pretending to apply pressure, she whispered venomously, “Your own fiancé told the family you perform unnecessary surgeries for kickbacks. Blame yourself for standing in my way. There can only be one top surgeon here.” Darkness consumed me, filled with thoughts of injustice. Then, I gasped—my eyes opened. I was back in the exam room, on the day I first diagnosed Sharon’s son. This time, as she screamed for a different doctor, I smiled and gladly agreed. 1. “What are you talking about, Evelyn? My Jake is just a kid! He eats like a horse, sleeps like a log. How could he have a tumor?” Sharon Miller’s voice echoed in the small clinic room. “And you want to cut open his head? Are you insane? That would kill him!” she shrieked, her plump face contorted with suspicion. “We’re from the same town, Evelyn. You can’t make this kind of dirty money off your own people.” I stared at the woman—dark-haired, stout, with a shrewd, calculating look in her eyes. The phantom pain of a blade piercing my skull felt so real, it was as if it had happened a second ago. Wait, I thought, a strange clarity cutting through the haze. Didn’t I die? “Ma’am, please, calm down,” my intern, Crystal, said gently. “Why don’t you let us run some tests? Dr. Reed is the best neurosurgeon in this hospital. Our former director recruited her personally…” “She’s one of the top specialists in the country,” Crystal insisted. Sharon shoved her aside. “I’m not an idiot! You just want to milk us for kickbacks. A few scans and you’ll charge hundreds of dollars! We want a different doctor!” I looked at the furious woman, a chill running down my spine. She clutched her overweight son, Jake, who glared at me and Crystal with hostile eyes. Beside them, his father stood silently, his face grim as he scrolled through his phone. I realized with a jolt. I’d been reborn. It was this couple, this very family, who had destroyed my life. In my previous life, after graduating at the top of my class, I was recruited to this hospital. It had the most advanced neurological research facilities in the country, a place where I could truly make a difference. Out of respect for my mentor, who was old friends with the director, I accepted the position. I’d spent my university years traveling the globe, studying under the world’s best surgeons. The intricate pathways of the human brain were as familiar to me as the back of my hand. My philosophy was simple: prevent disaster before it strikes. I always advocated for direct, decisive action to eliminate the root cause of a disease, minimizing harm to the patient. I poured everything into my work, sometimes even paying for a patient’s treatment out of my own pocket, all for that one chance to snatch a life back from death’s grip. Then Sharon found me. I took one look at her son, Jake, and knew instantly. Cerebral arteriosclerosis. He needed surgery, and he needed it now. But after the successful operation, there were no words of thanks. Instead, they checked him out behind my back. The rough journey home ruptured a blood vessel in his brain. And they blamed me. “My son just had a fever!” I remembered his father screaming, his face a mask of grief and fury. “You incompetent quack! I should have listened to Dr. Sweet! She told me it was just a cold, that he only needed a few days of IV fluids… You… You deserve to die!” It had all been Angela Sweet’s doing. Angela, my junior colleague, had a habit of downplaying serious diagnoses to appease patients, prescribing useless remedies instead of real treatment. “Evelyn, you can’t just jump to surgery for everything,” she would say with that saccharine smile of hers. “I know you’re a brilliant surgeon, but sometimes, a more holistic approach is better. Everyone gets a headache now and then. If you cut open everyone who did, no one would be left alive.” She stoked their fears and resentments. The story went viral online, and my reputation was destroyed. I was fired. After I was murdered, the families of other patients—extremists I had diagnosed with grim prognoses—found my parents’ home. They set it on fire. My mother and father were trapped inside, burned alive. But now, I had a second chance. And as I looked at the Millers demanding a new doctor, I didn’t hesitate. “Fine,” I said, my voice clear and firm. “I agree.” Angela, who had just arrived, stared at me, her eyes wide with disbelief. I was known for my stubbornness, for fighting for what I believed was right for my patients. Why would I give up so easily? This was a direct competition. Whoever performed more successful surgeries this month would be nominated for Head of Neuroscience. Angela coveted that title. In our world, a title meant status, power. Sharon Miller was stunned into silence. The whole speech she’d prepared was now useless. Her husband, however, just looked at me with contempt. “I just asked one of those new AI doctors online,” he grumbled, holding up his phone. “My son has the flu. That’s why he has a fever and a headache. Just give him some flu medicine and a few shots. Don’t waste his time. He has school. You can’t afford to hold him back.” My colleagues nearby gasped. “Sir, you can’t be careless with a child’s health,” one of them pleaded. “What you read online isn’t the same as a real diagnosis. You really should let us run the tests…” “Dr. Reed isn’t lying!” Crystal cried out. “Your son is showing symptoms of sclerosis in his brain. If you ignore it, his life will be in danger!” The next second, Sharon kicked Crystal’s legs out from under her, sending the young intern sprawling to the floor. “You little bitch!” Sharon screeched. “How dare you curse my son to die! To hell with your surgery! We’re not doing it! You think we don’t know how it works? A fifty-thousand-dollar surgery, and forty-five thousand goes right into your pockets!” She turned her venom on me. “And you, Evelyn! Our town was so proud of you, the big university graduate. Has a dog eaten your conscience? Are you using my son as a guinea pig?” At her words, Jake jumped forward and kicked me hard in the shin. “I knew it! You’re trying to get back at me!” he yelled. “It was your stupid dog that barked at me first! That’s why I chopped it up!” A dark shadow passed over my eyes. My dog, my beloved old Shepherd, had been found hacked to death years ago. So it was him. This vicious little monster. “You try to kill me, and I’ll have my parents kill your whole family!” he threatened. My face went cold. I gently helped Crystal up from the floor. If I was right, Angela had already been in contact with them. This little demon, Jake. In my last life, I had saved him. Out of pity and a sense of hometown loyalty, I had even paid for part of his surgery myself. The operation was a success. But I never imagined they would check him out of the hospital against my explicit orders. After intracranial surgery, any jolting movement is forbidden. The country roads were full of potholes, and buses could brake suddenly. A cerebral hemorrhage gives you three minutes. Three golden minutes. Out in the countryside, there was no hope of getting to a hospital in time. I became the scapegoat, the villain. My parents paid the price with me. Only after my death did I learn the truth. It was all a conspiracy. And one of the conspirators was my own fiancé, the forensic pathologist, Dr. Marcus Thorne. Angela Sweet was his first love. For her, he had violated his oath, falsified my autopsy report, and pinned everything on me. “Alright,” I said, my voice devoid of emotion. “I accept your decision. From this moment on, Jake Miller’s health is no longer my concern. His life or death has nothing to do with me.” Angela stepped forward, a look of faux concern on her face. “Evelyn, that’s so cold!” she said, then turned to the Millers with a gentle smile. “Don’t worry, your son will be fine. I’m a neurosurgeon too. It looks like he just has a bad cold. A few days on an IV drip, and he’ll be right as rain.” She tenderly stroked Jake’s head, her smile as sweet as her name. “Mommy, she’s an angel!” Jake exclaimed. The crowd of onlookers murmured in agreement. “Now that’s a real doctor! The other one was so heartless.” “Jumping to surgery for everything. Does she think we’re made of money?” “Yeah, a person’s head isn’t something you can just slice open!” “She’s just trying to line her own pockets.” I ignored them. They clamored to have their appointments transferred to Angela. A triumphant gleam shone in her eyes. This was too easy. At this rate, her patient numbers for the month would soar past mine. The Head of Neuroscience position was as good as hers. “Well, Evelyn, since it’s settled,” Angela said sweetly, “I’ll have my assistant transfer their file to my name.” She couldn’t believe her luck. She had been planning to ask Marcus to help her stage a scene, but this was better than she could have imagined. She’d already had her father, the hospital director, and Marcus pre-screen her patients for the month. They were all minor cases, easy wins to boost her success rate. But she couldn’t compete with my perfect record. I had performed several high-risk, groundbreaking surgeries, and my reputation was growing. A flash of jealousy crossed her face. Even with her father’s help, she was nothing compared to my raw skill. She was terrified of being pushed to the margins. But now… it seemed her luck had turned. Whatever the reason for my surrender, it was a victory for her. I watched her smug expression and thought, You fool. Jake’s condition mimicked the flu, but it was incredibly complex and dangerous. I had been fortunate enough to assist on a similar, groundbreaking surgery with the world-renowned Dr. Alistair Finch and my late mentor. Jake’s case was identical to that one. But such cases were exceedingly rare. In my previous life, Jake had been the first documented case in the country, a case of immense research value. But remembering what it had cost me, I wanted no part of it. I didn’t try to stop the other patients from leaving. In my last life, they had filmed my confrontation with the Millers, later using the edited footage to help Angela smear my name. “Excuse me,” a smooth, gentle voice said. “If you need to transfer your appointments, the line starts over here.” I looked up. It was Marcus. My heart turned to ice. Marcus was a forensic pathologist for the city police, in charge of autopsies. “Evelyn,” he said, smiling warmly. “Looks like you’ll finally get to leave work early for a change.” He turned to Angela. “Angela, thank you so much for taking this on. Now I can finally have some quality time with my fiancée.” He was playing the part of the devoted partner, smoothing things over for Angela. I looked at him, a half-smile on my face. A flicker of unease crossed his eyes. “What do you mean by that, Marcus?” I asked. “Evelyn, I was just worried they would give you a hard time. You know how tense doctor-patient relationships can be these days. Their emotions are running high. I didn’t want them to do something drastic.” He looked so sincere. If I hadn’t lived through it all before, I might have believed him. The man was a master of deception. He was the one who had secretly stoked the Millers’ anger in the first place. Soon, the Millers were officially transferred to Angela’s care. She theatrically placed a stethoscope on Jake’s chest and took his temperature. “Yes, it’s definitely a bit of a cold,” she announced. “And the headache is normal. It happens when you cough a lot. Some anti-inflammatories and a few days on a drip should clear it right up.” Just then, the hospital director—Angela’s father—walked over. He made a show of reviewing the chart in front of everyone. “Dr. Sweet is correct,” Director Sweet announced. “I’ve just seen the blood work. The boy definitely has influenza.” The Millers beamed. “See! We told you!” Sharon said, turning to glare at me. “Evelyn, how could you try to rip off your own people? You were trying to rob us and kill our son!” The crowd erupted again, their anger directed at me. “The director himself said it’s the flu!” “She wanted to do surgery for the flu? That doctor has no ethics!” “Who would dare be her patient? She’ll cut your head open just to see what’s inside!” Angela basked in the attention, stepping forward to play the benevolent peacemaker. “Everyone, please calm down. My senior colleague’s specialty is surgery. It’s what she does best. So it’s natural that… her first instinct is to operate. My family comes from a long line of holistic healers, so my focus is on non-invasive treatment. Different doctors, different philosophies. Please try to understand.” Her carefully chosen words fanned the flames once more. “We trust you, Dr. Sweet!” “Quacks like her will get what’s coming to them!” “She treats people from her hometown like lab rats!” “This is a prestigious hospital! How can they employ scum like her?” A triumphant smirk flickered across Angela’s face. She didn’t even have to lift a finger, and I was destroying myself. This was too easy. Still, she put on a troubled expression. “Evelyn, I didn’t mean to steal your patient…” “It’s fine,” I said calmly. “You can handle it. I have no objections. We must respect the patient’s right to choose.” I turned to my intern. “Crystal, you’ll be my assistant from now on. Could you please help transfer these files to Dr. Sweet?” Crystal’s eyes went wide. “Dr. Reed… am I dreaming? I get to learn from you? Really?” Others might not know, but Crystal and I had graduated from the same medical school. She knew that I was a legend there. She could see exactly how these people were trying to sabotage me. “Of course,” I said, a genuine smile touching my lips for the first time. In my last life, when the Millers attacked, innocent people were hurt. Crystal was the only one who tried to step in. Her hand was badly slashed, ending her career as a surgeon before it even began. She was a true doctor, and her journey shouldn’t have ended that way. “You’re right, this does lighten my workload,” I said, glancing at Marcus with a wry smile. “In that case, I’ll take my new assistant out for a celebratory dinner. We’re clocking out early today.” Marcus looked relieved that I was being so agreeable, but a flicker of worry crossed his face. “Evelyn, something’s come up at the precinct…” I nodded understandingly. “Of course. You go handle it.” I knew what he was doing. He wanted to stay and help Angela. Her medical skills were, to put it mildly, questionable. She had been my senior at university, but only because she’d had to repeat several years. She had barely managed to graduate, let alone master the art of medicine. I looked at the crowd of patients, all gazing at Angela as if she were their savior. A wave of bitter irony washed over me. I couldn’t wait to see how a doctor who could barely identify the parts of the human anatomy planned to cure the country’s first documented case of intracranial vascular sclerotic tumors. Back in my office, I started brewing some herbal tea. “Dr. Reed,” Crystal whispered, her voice laced with anxiety. “Are you really not going to do anything? We don’t have a single patient left. You’re the expert here.” Just as in my last life, someone in the crowd had recorded my “refusal” to treat the Millers. The video was already spreading online, painting me as a callous monster. Compared to the beautiful and gentle Angela Sweet, I was the perfect villain. Sure enough, Director Sweet soon summoned me to his office. Angela was standing behind him, a smug look on her face. “Dr. Reed,” the director began, his tone stern. “Your patient recovery numbers this quarter are less than half of Angela’s. I know the old director brought you in, but this hospital operates on results. This situation is making things very difficult for us.” “A hospital isn’t a charity, you understand.” He slid his phone across the desk. “The patients have a very strong opinion of you. Take a look.” The video of me “refusing” treatment was playing. It had tens of millions of views. The comment section was a torrent of abuse. Of course, the part where the Millers were screaming and kicking was conveniently edited out. “A doctor who doesn’t value human life! Who would trust her?” “Greedy witch! I hope her whole family dies!” I stared coldly at the angle of the video. I remembered it perfectly. It was filmed from the exact spot where Marcus had been standing moments before he “appeared” to break things up. The implication was clear. “Dr. Reed, this is a very serious matter in the public eye. We have a reputation to maintain.” He steepled his fingers. “We are considering revoking all of your performance bonuses for the year, as well as… your eligibility for the Head of Neuroscience position.” “Director Sweet,” I said calmly. “I understand you want to pave the way for your daughter. But you should be careful what you wish for. Don’t let your ambition ruin her career, and yours along with it.” I looked him dead in the eye. “To coddle a child is to condemn them.” I glanced at the family photo on his desk, then turned and slammed the door behind me. This wasn’t the first time he’d tried to get rid of me. I refused to use the overpriced imported drugs and equipment he pushed, and I refused to take part in the kickback schemes he ran with other clinics. The real money-grubber wasn’t me. Director Sweet watched me go, taking a deep breath. “Angela, that’s as much as I can do for you,” he said once I was gone. “You have to handle this opportunity carefully. Why did you let this blow up so big?” “The public attention on this case is massive now,” he continued, a note of worry in his voice. “Fortunately, this Jake Miller’s illness isn’t serious. But… I’m worried. Evelyn was the old director’s hand-picked successor. His judgment was never wrong.” “You need to find a way to get that boy cured and discharged as soon as possible. What happens to him after he leaves our hospital is not our problem.” There was a deep unease in his voice. He and all the senior doctors had reviewed the case. It really did look like a migraine caused by the flu. Could one young woman really be smarter than all of them, with their decades of clinical experience? He scoffed. This hospital didn’t need talented people. It just needed obedient people. A dark glint appeared in Angela’s eyes. “Don’t worry, Dad. Evelyn was a big shot in university. I just can’t stand her high-and-mighty attitude. If you don’t pull a weed out by the roots, it will just grow back again.” She wanted it to blow up. She wanted to make it impossible for Evelyn Reed to ever practice medicine again. A venomous look crossed her face. Throughout their internship, people had constantly compared them. It was always a comparison between heaven and earth. This time, she was going to be the one in heaven, and she would grind Evelyn Reed under her heel until she was nothing but dust.

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1 My best friend and I were a team of two: the beautiful, wicked women of this city’s elite. She was the canary in a gilded cage, kept by Jean Vance, the scion of an old-money dynasty, in his penthouse overlooking the park. I was the trophy girlfriend to Damian Blackwood, a tech mogul with new money and an insatiable need to show it off. We pooled the cash they gave us, a seventy-thirty split in her favor. She said I had terrible taste, that my man wasn’t as generous as hers. I said she had rocks for brains, that her man was all empty promises and charm. We bickered and fought, but together, we kept every other wannabe, every starlet and model, firmly in her place. Until the ingenue appeared. For her, Jean hung up on my best friend, Stella, for the first time ever. For her, Damian froze all of my credit cards. Stella and I just looked at each other. We didn’t need to say a word. Ah. The main character had arrived. … “I’m sorry, your card has been declined.” The cashier’s voice was quiet, but it echoed through the hushed boutique. Every head turned. Eyes, sharp with judgment and barely veiled contempt, drilled into me. The diamond bracelet, with its six-figure price tag, felt suddenly heavy in my hand. Just minutes ago, the sales associate had been fawning over me, calling me “Miss Zoe.” Now she’d taken a subtle step back, her posture radiating suspicion. I placed the bracelet gently back on its velvet tray. My hands were steady. “My apologies. Let’s try a different one.” I pulled out another card—not one of the endless black cards Damian had given me. This one was mine. The transaction went through instantly. I signed the slip, my movements crisp and deliberate. Stepping out of the mall, the sunlight was blinding. My phone buzzed. It was Stella. “My supplementary card just got canceled.” Her voice was flat, unreadable. “Mine too,” I said. A beat of silence on the other end. “Meet me at the usual place.” A smile crept into Stella’s voice. “Knew you’d be fine. I’ve got your back.” “See you there.” I hailed a cab and gave the driver the address of the small apartment we’d bought together with our own squirreled-away money. Through the window, the massive, imposing logo of Damian’s corporate headquarters flashed by. I turned my head away, my face a mask of indifference. The game was on. Stella was already there when I arrived. She’d kicked off her four-inch heels and was pacing the hardwood floor barefoot, still dressed in a stunning couture gown from some event. “Jean stood me up for that girl, Jenny Dallas.” She grabbed a bottle of sparkling water from the fridge and chugged half of it. “He had my seat removed from the head table at the charity gala. Just like that. I was the laughingstock of the entire evening.” I tossed the box with my new bracelet onto the coffee table. The diamonds inside caught the light, scattering cold, hard fire. “Damian was faster. He went straight for the accounts.” Stella stopped pacing and looked at me. Our eyes met. No complaints. No tears. We knew this was coming. In the story we’d been dropped into, this was our fate. The wicked supporting characters were destined to be crushed under the heel of the main couple, to become nothing more than stepping stones for their epic love story. “Hah,” Stella laughed first, a raw, sharp sound. “It’s finally starting.” I flipped open my laptop and pulled up our private joint account. The balance was a long, beautiful string of numbers. “We’ve held up our end of the bargain. We’ve been paid in full,” I said. “Now, it’s time to collect some interest.” Stella leaned over my shoulder, her eyes gleaming as she stared at the screen. “What’s the plan?” “Damian is about to launch a massive luxury development project called ‘Azure Vista.’ It’s his golden ticket, the thing that’s meant to wash away the stench of new money and get him a seat at the table with the old-money establishment.” My fingers flew across the keyboard. “I want to take that golden ticket and shatter it at his feet.” Damian Blackwood’s birthday gala was the event of the season. I showed up in a slinky, black slip dress that clung to every curve. I didn’t have an invitation. A security guard moved to block my path. “Miss Zoe, you can’t go in.” I didn’t even look at him. My gaze swept over the glittering crowd and locked onto Damian. He was holding court with a group of industry titans, laughing and charming them all. And there, tucked beside him, was Jenny Dallas. She was in a white, gossamer dress, looking as pure and fragile as a water lily. She saw me. Her eyes widened, and a hand flew to Damian’s sleeve, clutching it as she shrank behind him. Damian followed her gaze. The moment he saw me, his brow furrowed into a thunderous scowl. He strode towards me, disgust etched plainly on his handsome face. “What the hell are you doing here?” His voice was ice. “Happy birthday, Damian.” I gave him my most dazzling, meaningless smile. “I forgot to give you your present.” “Get lost.” “Not so fast.” I pulled a tiny USB drive from my clutch, dangling it in front of him. “Think of it as one last gift. For old times’ sake.” Damian’s eyes darkened. 2 He thought it was a sex tape. Or compromising photos. His hand shot out to grab it. I sidestepped him neatly. “Let’s keep this civil, Damian.” Heads were turning now. Whispers were starting to ripple through the crowd. Jenny drifted over, laying a delicate hand on Damian’s arm. “Damian, please don’t. Let’s just talk this out.” She turned to me, her eyes already welling up with tears, her voice trembling just so. “Zoe, darling, is there some kind of misunderstanding? Damian didn’t mean to hurt you, please don’t be angry with him.” What a perfect little actress. I ignored her completely, my eyes fixed on Damian. “Want it?” His face was a mask of fury. He bit out two words through clenched teeth: “Name your price.” “Straight to business. I like that,” I smiled. “I want five percent of the Azure Vista project. Non-dilutable shares.” His pupils constricted. Jenny gasped. “Zoe, you can’t! That’s extortion! You know how much that project means to Damian!” “Shut up,” Damian snarled, his gaze never leaving mine. “You’re dreaming.” “Am I?” I casually tossed the USB drive into the champagne tower next to us. Golden liquid splashed as the tiny device sank slowly to the bottom. “It’s a one-time offer, Damian.” I turned and walked away. The sharp click-clack of my heels on the marble floor sounded like a war drum. “Stop!” Damian’s voice roared behind me. I didn’t break my stride. As I stepped out of the hotel’s grand entrance, Stella’s car pulled up to the curb. I slipped into the passenger seat. “Done?” she asked, handing me a bottle of water. “He’ll bite,” I said, twisting the cap. A man like Damian Blackwood prized two things above all else: his reputation and his sense of control. There was nothing on that USB drive. But his paranoia? That was my most powerful weapon. Sure enough, less than thirty minutes later, my phone rang. It was Damian’s lawyer. “Miss Zoe, regarding your proposal… Mr. Blackwood has agreed in principle.” The contracts were signed without a hitch. Damian probably thought the 5% stake was just on loan to me. Once he got his hands on the non-existent drive and confirmed there was no threat, he’d find a way to take it back. But now, I had access to all of Azure Vista’s internal documents. Back at our apartment, Stella and I spread the thick binders and blueprints across the floor. “Damian’s ambition is off the charts,” Stella said, tapping the master plan. “He wants to turn this land into an ultra-exclusive private resort. Membership fees starting in the eight figures.” “Which means the entire project hinges on two things: privacy and exclusivity,” I pointed out. “And both of those things depend on one man.” We looked at each other and said the name in unison. “Alistair Finch.” Alistair Finch was the country’s foremost architectural visionary, a master of spatial aesthetics, and a notorious recluse. His designs were masterpieces, and getting him to take on a project was next to impossible. Damian had moved heaven and earth just to get a meeting. And Jenny Dallas, in her new role as a devoted “student” and “admirer,” was spending every single day at Finch’s studio. According to the original script of this story, Jenny was supposed to win Finch over with her “innocence” and “raw talent.” He would then agree to personally design Azure Vista, cementing Damian’s legacy. “Her talent?” Stella scoffed. “You mean her talent for plagiarism?” We both knew. Jenny’s graduating thesis—the award-winning watercolor painting First Light that had made her a star—was a complete and total rip-off of a piece by an obscure foreign artist. The original artist had vanished from the public eye years ago, and the work had never been widely published, giving Jenny the perfect cover. “We can’t just drop the plagiarism bomb on her,” I said. “That would be letting her off too easy,” Stella finished my thought. “She needs to be at the absolute height of her glory when she comes crashing down.” 3 My phone rang. It was Damian’s assistant. “Miss Zoe, Mr. Blackwood requests your presence at the Azure Vista site for a preliminary survey.” I raised an eyebrow. So, he wanted to put me in my place in front of Alistair Finch while propping up his new muse. “Of course,” I said sweetly. After I hung up, Stella asked, “You’re not going alone, are you?” “Of course not.” I grinned at her. “You’re coming with me. We’ve got front-row seats to the show.” The project site was out in the countryside, a stunning expanse of rolling hills and pristine forest. When we arrived, Damian and Jenny were already there, deep in conversation with an imposing, silver-haired man dressed in a minimalist linen suit. That had to be Alistair Finch. The moment Damian saw us, his face darkened. Jenny, on cue, adopted an expression of surprise mixed with gentle distress. “Zoe? Stella? What are you doing here?” “As a shareholder, I thought I should see the investment for myself. Isn’t that right?” I smiled. Damian just grunted and turned his back on me. Alistair Finch’s gaze drifted over us, cool and detached. The survey began. Damian’s project manager led the way, while Jenny stuck close to Finch’s side, whispering her “insights” on the landscape in a voice as soft and sweet as honey. “Mr. Finch, I envision a stream diverted through here, with a winding bridge. We could plant weeping willows along the bank to create a sense of… contemplative discovery.” Finch remained noncommittal. Damian, however, was beaming. “A brilliant idea, Jenny. Truly inspired.” The group made its way to the edge of a steep cliff overlooking a deep, rocky ravine. Jenny’s eyes flickered towards a small, unremarkable wildflower growing near the edge. Then, with a tiny, theatrical gasp, she stumbled, her body pitching directly towards the drop. Damian moved like lightning, catching her and pulling her into a protective embrace. “Careful! Are you alright?” His voice was thick with concern and adoration. Nestled against his chest, Jenny’s face was pale, her voice trembling as if in shock. “I… I saw the most unique flower over there. I just wanted a closer look, I didn’t realize the ground was so slippery…” Right. The classic damsel-in-distress routine from the book. Too bad for you, sweetheart. I’m playing the villain now, and I’m not buying it. Stella whispered in my ear, “The Academy owes her an Oscar.” After soothing Jenny, Damian turned to me, his expression instantly turning venomous. “Did you push her?” The air went still. Every single person turned to stare at me. The project team looked terrified. Even Alistair Finch was frowning, his sharp eyes fixed on me. In Damian’s arms, Jenny trembled, burying her face deeper into his suit. Her muffled voice was a masterpiece of reluctant accusation. “Damian, no, it wasn’t Zoe’s fault, please don’t blame her… I just lost my footing.” Her defense did more to condemn me than any accusation could have. Damian’s rage was palpable. “Zoe. I warned you. Don’t you ever touch her.” I stood my ground, silent and still. Stella stepped in front of me, a protective shield. “Watch what you say, Blackwood. There are a dozen witnesses here. Nobody saw anyone push anybody.” “Besides her,” Damian sneered, “who else here can’t stand the sight of Jenny?” “I can’t stand the sight of you,” Stella shot back without missing a beat. “You—!” “Enough.” It was Alistair Finch. His voice was quiet but carried an undeniable authority. He glanced at the edge of the cliff, then back at the spot where Jenny had pointed. There was no “unique flower.” There was nothing. A flicker of scrutiny crossed his face. “We are professionals,” he said coolly. “Let’s keep our focus on the project, shall we?” The master had spoken. Damian couldn’t press the issue further. He shot me one last poisonous glare before leading the still-trembling Jenny away. The farce was over. For now. 4 Stella was quiet on the drive back, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. “Is Damian blind? How could he fall for such a pathetic, clumsy act?” “He’s not blind. He just doesn’t want to see,” I said. “It doesn’t matter if Jenny was acting. He needed an excuse to put me down, and she handed him one on a silver platter.” That was the power of being the main character. “So what do we do?” Stella asked. “We can’t let her get away with framing you every time.” “Let her act,” I said, watching the scenery blur past the window. “The more dramatic her performance, the more it’s going to hurt when she finally takes a real fall.” Back at the apartment, I opened my laptop and logged into an international art forum. I typed in the name of the artist Jenny had plagiarized: Anya Sharma. There was painfully little information about her. All I could find was that she was an Indian painter who held a single solo exhibition a decade ago, and then disappeared. I clicked on the exhibition details. A small, black-and-white photo showed Anya Sharma standing in front of one of her paintings. The composition, the atmosphere… it was unmistakably the framework for Jenny’s First Light. At least an eighty percent match. I saved the photo. It wasn’t enough. I needed something more. Something undeniable. Something that would not only expose Jenny but would also ignite the fury of a purist like Alistair Finch. Just as I was plotting, my phone rang. An unknown number. I answered. It was the cold, impersonal voice of Damian’s assistant. “Miss Zoe. Congratulations. You are now the guarantor for a new venture.” A knot of ice formed in my stomach. Here it comes. The assistant continued, “A commercial loan in the amount of fifty million dollars. You have been signed on as the sole guarantor under an unlimited liability agreement. Should the project default, you will be responsible for the entire debt.” “When did I ever sign that?” “Mr. Blackwood signed it for you. In your name,” he said, as if discussing the weather. “Oh, and I forgot to mention. The project is scheduled to default today.” The line went dead. Stella had heard everything. Her face was pale. “He’s trying to ruin you. Bury you under a debt you can never repay!” The book’s cruelty was more vicious than I’d remembered. My phone rang again. This time, it was Damian. “Zoe. I’m curious to see just how unbreakable you really are.” His voice was laced with sadistic pleasure. “This was you,” I stated, my voice even. “Of course,” he admitted without hesitation. “Now, come to the West Side scrapyard. Get on your knees and beg me. If you’re convincing enough, maybe I’ll be merciful and make this little problem of yours disappear.” The call was on speaker. Stella’s fists were clenched so tight her knuckles were white. I gazed out the window at the oppressive night sky. “Damian,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “you really think you’ve won, don’t you?” He chuckled, a low, arrogant sound full of absolute certainty. “Don’t I?” I smiled. “Fine. I’m on my way.” I hung up and looked at Stella. “Call the police.” 5 She stared at me, horrified. “Are you serious? You’re walking right into his trap!” “He doesn’t want me dead. He wants to see me grovel,” I said, grabbing my purse and checking the tiny recording pen inside. “The more arrogant he is, the more careless he’ll be.” I drove to the scrapyard. Damian was leaning against a black Bentley, flanked by several imposing bodyguards who looked like they were carved from granite. He saw me, and a cruel smile twisted his lips. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show.” “How could I refuse an invitation from the man of the hour?” I walked towards him, my steps measured. “So, you’ve come to your senses?” His eyes raked over me, dripping with contempt. “Kneel.” I didn’t move. I just held his gaze. “All of this, just to make me kneel. Forging my signature, setting me up for a fifty-million-dollar debt… it’s quite the production, Damian.” “This is just the beginning,” he said, savoring what he thought was my fear. “That agreement you faked? Once it comes to light, Blackwood Enterprises will be at the center of a massive financial fraud scandal. What do you think your board of directors will have to say about that?” I clicked the stop button on the recorder in my pocket. “Are you insane?” For the first time, his composure cracked. “Takes one to know one.” I took out my phone. Right there, in front of him, I emailed the audio file to his lead counsel, CC’ing the private email address of the chairman of his company’s board. “You’re bluffing,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “You forced my hand.” I turned to leave. “Now, I believe you’re the one with the headache.” Checkmate, you arrogant bastard. I was completely drained when I got back to the apartment, collapsing onto the sofa. Stella handed me a glass of water. “We won this round.” “It’s only temporary,” I said, taking a sip. “Damian’s retaliation will be swift.” The next day, the entire city was buzzing with the story. They said I was a desperate ex, so obsessed with getting Damian back that I’d staged my own fake kidnapping to frame him, even getting the police involved. The smear campaign was swift and brutal. Overnight, I became the psycho ex-girlfriend, the manipulative villain in everyone’s story. Stella didn’t fare much better. Jean Vance sent his butler to her apartment to reclaim every piece of jewelry he’d ever given her. Like an auditor taking inventory, the man checked each item off a list. “Mr. Vance asked me to inform you,” the butler said, his voice cold, “that you are no longer worthy of owning these items.” Stella dropped the last earring into the velvet-lined box. “Tell Jean,” she said, looking the butler dead in the eye, “that his taste, it seems, is only fit for trash like Jenny.” We were completely ostracized. The people who used to flock around us now avoided us like the plague. Damian and Jean wanted to make one thing clear: without them, we were nothing. Stella and I were holed up in our little apartment, eating instant noodles. The financial news was on TV. A triumphant Damian Blackwood was officially announcing the launch of the Azure Vista project. He proudly introduced the soul of the project: special guest designer, Jenny Dallas. On screen, Jenny was the picture of grace in a simple, elegant silk dress. She stood by Damian’s side, speaking eloquently about her vision for the project, her voice full of artistic passion. “She’s such a fraud,” Stella muttered, slamming her noodle cup down. I pushed some of my noodles into her cup. “Eat. Don’t waste your anger on people like her.” She snorted, slurping up a mouthful of noodles, and nudged my leg with her foot. We met each other’s gaze, and in her eyes, I saw the same stubborn fire that was in mine. My eyes were glued to the TV, specifically to the painting hanging behind Jenny—her masterpiece, First Light. An idea began to form. “Stella. I need to get to Kyoto.” “Kyoto?” she asked, confused. “I’m going to find Anya Sharma,” I said. “I need to get my hands on the original painting. Or, even better, I need to get Anya Sharma herself to stand right in front of Alistair Finch.”

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In my fifth winter with Alex Pierce, I was diagnosed with cancer. That same week, he brought his first love home. I didn’t try to hide it. I handed him the oncologist’s report. Alex lit a cigarette, smoked for a moment, and then said, “I’ll give you two million dollars. That should be more than enough to treat stage-two breast cancer.” He took another drag. “Let’s not see each other again after this. My fiancée is a wonderful person. I don’t want her to be hurt.” I said nothing. I just watched as he packed his things and moved out of our apartment to start planning his wedding. And me? I shaved my head and started chemo to save my own life. A year later, in full remission, I ran into Alex by chance. He grabbed my arm, his eyes red-rimmed. “Zoe, where have you been? I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He said his engagement to his first love had been a mistake, a misunderstanding. He asked if we could start over. I pulled my hand from his grasp, slowly but firmly. “I’m sorry, but I’m married now. And we just found out we’re having a baby.” 1 The day Alex Pierce broke up with me, I was holding the pathology report that confirmed I had breast cancer. I didn’t play the tragic heroine from some novel and hide it. I just handed him the paper. “Are you sure about this? I have cancer. It’s… kind of serious.” Alex’s usually cool, detached eyes widened for a second. He instinctively looked down. On the single sheet of paper, the words were stark: Stage II Ductal Carcinoma. Immediate hospitalization and treatment recommended. He clearly hadn’t prepared a script for this. The air in the room grew thick and still. Then again, when the golden boy of the city’s most powerful family decides to dump a plaything with no family, no connections, and no remarkable beauty, he probably doesn’t think he needs one. But I was sick. And not just a little sick. A flicker of something—a moral burden, perhaps—crossed his face. Alex frowned, thinking for a long moment before speaking. “Alright. I’ll add another million. Three million dollars as a severance. That’s more than enough to cover your treatment.” This was the same man who, in high school, would hide in an empty classroom and cry about the mother he’d lost. Now, here he was, stone-faced, throwing money at the woman he’d spent five years with. His… what was I? His girlfriend? I wanted to laugh. After everything, all the intimacy, he couldn’t even grant me that self-deceiving title. I took a deep breath and took the card from his hand. My gaze was steady. “Do I need to sign anything?” “What?” “An NDA. Do I need to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I can use this money?” A small, humorless smile touched his lips. “No. Let’s just call it a clean break.” He really was effortlessly cool. I nodded and slipped the card into my pocket, watching as he opened a drawer and removed his passport and a few expensive watches. He’d obviously been planning this for a while. His best suits were already gone. The soft lamplight caught the sharp angle of his jaw, and for a dizzying moment, he looked like the boy I’d known in high school, saying a final goodbye. But Alex hadn’t truly smiled in years. His expression was a mask of indifference. “I’m deleting your number,” he said flatly. “I don’t want my fiancée to get the wrong idea.” “If you need anything else, you can call my secretary. He’ll handle it.” He walked to the door to put on his shoes. They were the ones I’d bought him for his birthday. He used to wear them all the time. “Oh,” he added, as an afterthought. “About your illness… I’ll ask around for doctors. Clara’s friends know a lot of specialists in the field.” Clara Thorne. The one that got away. The one he’d finally won back. I heard my own voice, distant and calm. “Thank you.” 2 The door clicked shut, and the apartment was finally, utterly silent. It dawned on me then that this was a truly awful day. A day that deserved tears. But when you hit rock bottom, sometimes you don’t even have the energy to cry. I tried to summon some emotion, but my eyes remained dry. Giving up, I grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom. After a long, hot shower, I stood staring at my reflection. The face looking back wasn’t a showstopper, but it wasn’t ugly. Slender eyes, the kind Alex used to love. Zoe, your eyes tell a story, he used to say. Every time you look at me, my heart aches. He wasn’t wrong. I had a story. A gambling father, a drug-addicted mother. They both died, and I clawed my way up on social assistance and scholarships until, by some bizarre twist of fate, I met Alex Pierce and got entangled in his world. To this day, I still don’t know what stroke of luck—or misfortune—led to us being together. Five years. I could barely remember how I’d survived them. Every day felt like a dream. The bookish nerd who somehow landed the one boy every other girl in school dreamed of. Now, the dream was over. The woman in the mirror had lost her borrowed glow. She was just a patient with three million dollars and a two-thousand-square-foot apartment. I couldn’t quite put a name to the feeling that washed over me. The silence in the apartment was deafening. I turned on the heat and picked up my phone. Clara had just posted a photo. The caption read: “After all this time, I found my way back to you.” It was a beautifully shot photo of a man and a woman kissing in silhouette. Even in the dim light, I recognized the man’s profile. It was Alex. The line of his jaw had once taken my breath away. The comments were a flood of old classmates losing their minds. OMG MY SHIP HAS SAILED I’M SO HAPPY I COULD DIE. Congratulations! Wishing you a lifetime of happiness! You two are perfect for each other! Take care of our girl, Alex! She’s an absolute angel. Then, one dissenting voice. Didn’t Alex have a girlfriend? I think it was that girl who was always top of the class… Zoe something? I refreshed the page. The comment was gone. In its place was a new reply from Alex himself: Baby, I’m all yours. 3 I needed to buy some things before checking into the hospital. I walked into the mall and saw them. Clara had returned from abroad in a hurry and hadn’t brought enough clothes. Alex had been on his way to dinner with friends, so now a whole boisterous crew was trailing along behind them. Alex’s friends had never liked me. They thought he’d had a momentary lapse in judgment when he got with me and always treated me with a thinly veiled disdain. Now that Clara was back, they were all smiles, a loyal entourage. Alex’s childhood friend, Sean, spotted me, and his brow furrowed. “What are you doing here? You’re not here to make a scene, are you? I’m telling you, Clara doesn’t know anything, so don’t you dare start something.” Another one, Mark, chimed in. “Yeah, seriously. Alex worships the ground she walks on. If you upset her, he’ll make you regret it.” They were guarding against me like I was a thief. Alex emerged from the dressing room after helping Clara with a dress. When he saw me, his face darkened. “Zoe. You promised you wouldn’t cause trouble.” His tone gave me a headache. “I’m not.” “Then what are you doing here?” “I’m picking up some clothes.” Before I could say another word, the shop owner saw me and bustled over. “Zoe, sweetie! You’re finally here! I’ve been waiting for you.” Her eyes darted between Alex and me, but I pretended not to notice. I followed her into the stockroom to pick up the soft cotton lounge sets I had pre-ordered. The owner was a kind soul. Her eyes were red. “Zoe, what’s going on? Isn’t that man out there your boyfriend?” Alex had come with me to her shop a couple of times. She remembered. I managed a small smile. “No. We’re just friends.” “Nonsense. He was here for your birthday, helping you pick out a dress. I remember how happy you were. You threw your arms around him and were so excited.” I did do that. Once. And Alex had lectured me on the way home. He said he didn’t like it when his partners were too clingy. That I needed to have more self-control. I took a deep breath, forcing the memory down. “It’s alright, really. We’re in the past. The woman with him today is his fiancée.” “Don’t worry about any of this,” I told her. “I don’t want to mess up your business. I have to go.” The owner knew I had cancer and refused to take my money. After a bit of back and forth, I gave in, took the bag, and thanked her profusely. As I was leaving, she pulled me into a hug, patting my back. “You’re going to be okay, sweetie. You’re strong.” The unexpected kindness almost brought me to tears. Just then, the door to the adjacent dressing room opened. Clara stepped out in a slinky slip dress, looking down on us, both literally and figuratively. 4 Clara and I weren’t exactly strangers. In high school, we often shared the stage at award ceremonies. I was always first in our year; she was the ‘outstanding student’ recipient. We’d even nod and exchange polite greetings. So it felt strange, now, to have her looking down her nose at me. “Oh. Hi,” I said, forcing a laugh. “Long time no see.” “Mm,” was all she said. Her gaze was colder than I’d expected. She scanned me from head to toe with undisguised contempt before turning away. Alex immediately went to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and kissing her temple. His eyes held a tenderness I had never seen before. The shop owner sighed beside me. “Zoe, honey, if you need to cry, just let it out. I won’t judge.” I just scratched my head, silent. The problem was, I couldn’t cry. My life was hanging by a thread. Who had the energy for heartbreak? I left the mall and went straight to the hospital. The doctor explained they’d do surgery first, then chemo. He asked if I had any family to support me. That stung. I used to have someone who was supposed to be family. But he’d opted out. I quietly explained that I had money, that I could hire a private nurse and sign my own consent forms. Money talked. The doctor upgraded me to a private room and found me a wonderful, gentle nurse. The first day after surgery, a dull, persistent ache radiated from my chest. My heart ached even more. I scrolled through my phone and saw a post of Alex and Clara picking out wedding dresses. The pain in my surgical wound sharpened. I took a photo of my IV drip, allowing myself a rare moment of self-pity. You’re fine, Zoe. It doesn’t hurt. I refreshed the feed. Clara’s post was gone. I clicked on her profile. She’d deleted me. Fantastic. Life was just a bowl of cherries, and I was the pit. The biopsy results came back. The news wasn’t good. The doctor said we’d start the first round of chemo. He warned me it would be tough and told me to prepare myself. I thought I was prepared. I still threw up until I was empty. In just one month, I lost a staggering amount of weight, and my spirit started to fray. My nurse helped me out to the garden for a walk. I saw a boy sitting on a bench, his head wrapped in so many bandages he looked like a mummy. He was yelling into his phone. “What? You and Dad are on another date? I’m injured and you just leave me here!” “My brother? All my brother cares about is work! He doesn’t give a damn about me!” “You’re all heartless! Leaving your poor, helpless, adorable son all alone to go gallivanting around town! Is that any way for a family to act?” “I don’t care! I’m going to rebel! I’m turning to the dark side! I’m going to act out!” He slammed the phone down and angrily started ripping leaves off a bush. He threw them on the ground with a huff and then spun around. Our eyes met. A stunningly beautiful face with wide, wet eyes looked back at me. He was gorgeous. As adorable as a deer. Under my stare, the boy’s cheeks slowly turned pink. After a long moment, he shyly got up and walked away. 5 I saw the boy again the next day. It wasn’t fate. Hospital life was crushingly boring, and being alone with my thoughts was dangerous. I’d casually asked the nurses about him. They said he was an immature rich kid with powerful connections, so the staff was careful not to upset him. He was constantly causing trouble, and his family would just send a secretary to clean up his messes. It sounded like a TV drama, and I was intrigued enough to seek him out. When I got to the garden, he was, as predicted, causing trouble. He was climbing a ridiculously tall tree, trying to pick some wild berries. His caregiver was frantic. “Sir, please! Those are poisonous! You can’t eat those!” Danny—I’d learned his name was Danny—ignored him, popping a berry into his mouth. I spoke up calmly. “Those can cause kidney damage, you know.” He spat the berry out instantly, his face turning a shade of green. “Really?” “Mm-hmm.” He looked at me for a moment, then his eyes widened in recognition. “I remember you. You were walking here yesterday. What’s wrong with you?” I pointed to my chest. “Breast cancer. You?” “Slipped and fell on my way to the bathroom at night. Got a concussion.” “Oh. Well, you should probably come down then. In case you get dizzy.” To my surprise, he actually climbed down. He walked over, and I realized just how tall he was. So tall he looked like he might be lacking in the common sense department. “You have cancer, miss?” “Yeah.” “Does it hurt?” “It’s manageable.” I smiled, teasing him a little. “Compared to me, you’ve got it pretty good, don’t you think?” He pouted. “…Yeah.” “So don’t be so hard on your parents. You should try to be happy every day you’re alive.” Like me. Before the cancer, I thought being an orphan was the worst thing in the world. Then I thought unrequited love was worse. Now that I might not even survive, I finally understood: just being alive is a blessing. Danny just stared at me for a long time without saying anything. The next day, he showed up with a gift. “You need to take care of yourself, miss. And be happy every day.” I opened the small box. Inside was a delicate swan-shaped brooch. It was exquisite. I pinned it to my hospital gown and smiled at him. “You’re a sweet kid, Danny.” He scratched the back of his head, looking embarrassed. “My grandmother died of breast cancer,” he explained. “When I saw you under the tree yesterday, I… I thought of her.” “My grandma was the best person in the world. I grew up with her. After she died, there was this… hole inside me. Nothing I did could fill it.” “When you told me to be happy every day… that’s something she used to tell me all the time.” As he spoke, his eyes welled up. He looked like he was about to cry. “Uh,” I said, a bit awkwardly. “If you want, I can give you a hug.” Danny sniffled. “…Thanks.” He was all long limbs as he leaned in and gave me a quick, gentle hug. “So, miss,” he said, pulling back. “From now on, we’re friends.” 6 It was like Danny had found a new purpose in life. For the rest of my hospital stay, he was constantly popping into my room. He really did seem to treat me as a stand-in for his grandmother, telling me everything that was on his mind. Sometimes, he’d talk until he was exhausted and then curl up on the sofa in my room for a nap. With this overgrown child to distract me, my days became surprisingly fun. I almost forgot about Alex’s engagement. But some people are determined to remind you. The day before the engagement party, I received a text message. Grand Imperial Hotel, Third Floor Ballroom. The engagement of Alex Pierce & Clara Thorne. The honor of Ms. Zoe Clark’s presence is requested. It wasn’t hard to guess who sent it. Clara still saw me as a threat. She wanted to humiliate me in public. My doctor had warned me that stress was the last thing I needed right now. By all accounts, I shouldn’t go. But I had a different interpretation of “no stress.” To me, it meant I needed to vent my anger. I had a bellyful of resentment from the whole mess with Alex, and I needed an opportunity to stir the pot. So I found Danny and asked him if he’d do me a favor: be my date to my ex-boyfriend’s engagement party so we could crash it in style. Danny’s eyes lit up. “Absolutely.” The next morning, I got ready and went to the hotel early. Alex was standing at the entrance in a sharp tuxedo, a broad smile on his face. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, his smile vanished. He strode over and grabbed my arm. “What are you doing here?” “Your fiancée invited me. It would be rude not to come.” His face was a thundercloud. “We don’t need your politeness. Get out.” “Alex, you have no heart. We were together for five years. Can’t you at least let me have a piece of cake?” Our voices weren’t loud, but we were starting to draw attention. Sean came over and put an arm around my shoulders. “It’s fine, Alex. I’ll keep an eye on her. You go greet your guests.” He steered me into the ballroom. “Zoe, I’m warning you one last time. Don’t make a scene. If you do, Alex will hate you for the rest of his life.” His face was full of disgust, as if it were a foregone conclusion that the ex would always cause trouble for the new girl. But I didn’t. I did exactly as they wanted. I found a quiet corner table and started eating. When most of the guests had arrived, the happy couple appeared on stage, looking like something out of a fairytale. Sean was still hovering nearby. “Alex and Clara are about to start the ceremony. Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be watching you.” I gave him a small smile. “Loud and clear.” Honestly, I just hadn’t been to a party in a long time and thought it would be funny to crash my ex’s. Why wouldn’t anyone believe me? The romantic lighting began to swirl, music swelled, and the MC started the proceedings. “Our groom has written a letter to his beloved bride, and I’d like to read it to you all.” “I remember it was our senior year of high school. I was going through the darkest time of my life. I’d locked myself in the old gym equipment room, ready to give up.” “And then you appeared, like an angel. You sat on the other side of that wall and talked me through the night. You gave me the courage to keep going.” “From that day on, I knew I loved you. Even when you went abroad to study, I never stopped waiting for you.” “Five years. I finally have you back. Clara Thorne, I love you. Let’s spend the rest of our lives together.” The crowd erupted in applause. I joined in, even yelling “Kiss her!” for good measure. Sean looked at me, a strange expression on his face. “Zoe, I’m surprised. You’ve been… reasonable. Maybe I misjudged you all these years.” He immediately looked chagrined, as if he’d said too much. On stage, Alex kissed Clara. At the same moment, Danny finally arrived. He sat down next to me, leaned over, and planted a loud kiss on my cheek, then slipped a ring onto my finger. “Sorry I’m late, Zoe. You must be tired.” I was unfazed. “It’s fine. Why are you sweating?” I reached up to wipe his forehead, then straightened his collar. Sean was staring, utterly dumbfounded. “Who… who is this?” “Oh,” I said casually. “My boyfriend. He’s a freshman in college.” Danny turned his head. “Hello, sir.” Sean was speechless. I took Danny’s hand and stood up to leave. On stage, Alex was staring at me, his eyes wide. I didn’t look away. I turned to Sean, my voice just loud enough for him to hear. “You know, five years ago, I went to that gym room too. I actually passed Clara on my way there. She said there was some psycho in the room, rambling nonsense, and she couldn’t be bothered to listen, so she left.” “I was worried about him, so even though I had a nasty cold, I went and sat outside that room and talked to him all night. The next day, my cold had turned into pneumonia and I ended up in the hospital.” “It’s funny. Only today did I realize Alex got the story wrong. I wonder how he’d react if he knew Clara had lied to him all this time?” Sean looked like he’d been struck by lightning. He started to stand, but the mocking smile on my face stopped him. I squeezed Danny’s hand and walked away. Just before we left the ballroom, I threw one last hook over my shoulder. “Sean, you’ve always had a thing for Clara, haven’t you? Now that Alex has the wrong girl, things are bound to get messy. This could be your chance to break them up and get the girl for yourself. The choice is yours.”

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