Author: Momo Chan

1 The night of our wedding, my A-list actor husband, Damian Hale, left me for a private rendezvous with his ex-girlfriend. When he returned, reeking of alcohol, he held me and whispered her name: Luna Latham. The next morning, Luna posted on her social media: 【Some loves can only be spoken in whispers, hidden by time. I wish you happiness.】 Her fans swarmed the comments, branding me a homewrecker. My agent, Carla, was practically having a meltdown. I scrolled through my phone, completely unbothered. “What’s the rush?” I said calmly. “Leak the photos from their hotel room last night. Tell the press it was me, the ‘devastated wife,’ who caught them in the act.” “And remember,” I added, “censor the photos, but make sure everyone can recognize that specific watch on Damian’s wrist.” … Ten minutes after the photos went live, the social media servers crashed. 【Damian Hale Cheats on Wedding Night】 【Luna Latham the Homewrecker】 【Rachel Reed Catches Husband Cheating】 Three hashtags shot to the top of the trending list. Carla’s phone was ringing off the hook. She covered the receiver, her face pale as she looked at me. “Rachel, it’s Damian’s team, and… Mrs. Hale is on the other line.” I nodded, gesturing for her to continue. “They’re demanding you post a retraction immediately. Say they were stills from a movie, or just friends who had too much to drink and the angle was misleading.” A small, cold laugh escaped my lips. “A retraction? Why would I do that?” “I am Damian Hale’s lawfully wedded wife. My husband abandoned me on our wedding night, and now I’m expected to cover for his affair with his ex?” “Carla, do I look like some brain-dead saint to you?” Carla was speechless. The door to my suite burst open. Damian stormed in, his eyes shot with blood. He was clutching his phone so tightly his knuckles were white. “Rachel! Are you insane? Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” He slammed the phone down on the coffee table in front of me. The screen showed the photos I’d leaked. “Why would you do this? Luna is innocent!” he roared. “She was just upset, so I went to have a drink with her. Nothing happened!” I met his furious gaze, my own expression perfectly calm. “Nothing happened? Then why was she wearing your shirt?” “Nothing happened? Then why did you come home, hold me, and whisper her name all night?” The color drained from Damian’s face, then flooded back in a wave of crimson. He looked like he was choking. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be listening. “I was drunk!” he yelled, his voice cracking. “I made a mistake! A mistake any man could make!” “Did you have to blow this up, ruin my career, and destroy Luna’s life over it? I never knew you were so malicious!” I rose from the sofa and walked toward him. “Damian, you destroyed our marriage. You destroyed yourself. And you destroyed that precious Luna of yours.” “Malicious? Compared to you two, I’d say I’m serving justice.” “And let me correct you on one thing,” I added, my voice dripping with ice. “Not all men make that ‘mistake.’ Only the ones who can’t keep it in their pants. Don’t you dare drag everyone else down with you.” He trembled with rage, his hand flying up to strike me. I didn’t flinch. I just stared at him, my eyes cold and unflinching. “Go on. Hit me. Tomorrow’s headline will be ‘A-List Actor Damian Hale’s Domestic Abuse Scandal.’” “I guarantee you, it will trend even higher than your affair.” His hand froze in mid-air before falling limply to his side. Then, the phone rang again. It was Damian’s mother, the formidable Eleanor Hale, chairwoman of Zenith Media. The second I answered, her imperious voice cut through the line. “Rachel, delete the post immediately. Then, call a press conference and apologize. Say it was all a misunderstanding.” “You will not drag the Hale family name through the mud like this.” I leaned back on the sofa, calmly filing my nails. “Mrs. Hale, the one dragging your family name through the mud isn’t me. It’s your darling son.” “On his wedding night, he chose to do this. The fact that I haven’t filed for divorce yet is the only respect I’m showing the Hale name.” There was a beat of silence on the other end, then a voice tight with fury. “What do you want? Film roles? Money? Name your price. Just make this go away.” I blew a speck of dust from my nail. “I don’t want anything.” “I just want what’s fair.” Mrs. Hale laughed, a cold, sharp sound. “Fair? In this business, power is fairness. And I have the power.” “Don’t you forget, Rachel, who gave you everything you have. Without the Hale family, you are nothing.” “So drop the naive act. I’m giving you thirty minutes to think it over.” “If I don’t see a public apology from you in half an hour, you will face the consequences.” 2 The line went dead. Carla looked at me, her face etched with worry. “Rachel, she’s not bluffing. You know she’ll do it.” “Those endorsement deals, the script for that blockbuster… Zenith Media pulled all those strings for us.” I patted her hand reassuringly. “Don’t worry. The sky isn’t falling.” Thirty minutes passed. I posted nothing. Instead, a photo of Luna Latham, weeping in a hospital bed, appeared on her official social media, posted by her team. The caption read: 【Thank you for the concern. I’m alright. Please don’t blame anyone. It’s all my fault.】 In the photo, she wore a hospital gown, a pristine white bandage wrapped around her wrist. She was a picture of tragic fragility. Instantly, the public narrative flipped again. The hashtag #LunaLathamSuicideAttempt shot to number one, eclipsing everything else. My comment section became a cesspool. An army of self-righteous fans flooded in, cursing me with the most vile language imaginable. 【She tried to kill herself because of you! Rachel Reed is a monster!】 【Damian, divorce her! You must have had the worst luck in the world to marry a woman like that!】 【My heart breaks for Luna. We’re here for you, always.】 Damian called again. This time, his voice was choked with tears and raw hatred. “Rachel, Luna tried to kill herself! If anything happens to her, I swear I will never forgive you!” “Are you happy now? Are you satisfied?” I listened quietly to his tirade until he exhausted himself. Then, I spoke, my voice soft but lethal. “Damian, do you really think the world revolves around your tragic little love story?” “She cries, and it’s my fault. She checks into a hospital, and I’m the one who pushed her.” “What about me? I’m your wife. The one you two conspired to humiliate. Am I just supposed to take the abuse? To swallow my pain and say nothing?” “Go to the hospital. Stay by her side.” “And when you do, tell her to commit to the role next time. That scratch on her wrist looks like a paper cut. Today’s audience isn’t that gullible.” My defiance was the final straw. The Hales declared war. The next day, the official social media account for the blockbuster film I was set to star in announced that I had been removed from the cast, citing “personal conduct issues that have caused a negative social impact.” One by one, my high-end endorsement deals released statements terminating our contracts. Carla held the termination letters, her hands shaking. “It’s over, Rachel. It’s all over. Mrs. Hale is going to blacklist us completely.” Overnight, I went from being one of Hollywood’s brightest rising stars to a reviled outcast. Damian sent me a text. 【Is this what you wanted? I gave you a chance, Rachel.】 【Get out of my house. Now. My lawyer will be in touch with the divorce papers.】 I looked at the message and laughed. Get out? This mansion, the one with the deed in my name, was a wedding gift from my parents. I texted back one word. 【You.】 He must have lost his mind, because he showed up minutes later with two bodyguards in tow. “Rachel, don’t push your luck! This is a Hale property! You have no right to be here!” he snarled, pointing a finger at me with an air of supreme arrogance. I remained seated on the sofa, watching his little performance with amusement. “Damian, darling, has playing pretend for a living addled your brain? Open your eyes and read the name on the deed.” “This is my pre-nuptial property. It has absolutely nothing to do with you or the Hale family.” Damian froze, completely stunned. He obviously had no idea. Behind him, Luna Latham leaned weakly against the doorframe, a perfectly calibrated expression of shock and hurt on her pale face. “Damian, let’s just go,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “It’s clear she doesn’t want us here. Let’s not make her angry.” She tugged at his sleeve, the perfect damsel in distress. Damian looked at her, his eyes overflowing with adoration and pity. He turned back to me, his gaze venomous. “You wait, Rachel. You will pay for what you’ve done today.” “I will make sure you never work in this town again!” I stood and walked calmly towards them. “Fine by me,” I said with a smile. “I’ll be waiting.” 3 My gaze shifted past Damian, landing on Luna. “Ms. Latham, the next time you decide to stage a suicide attempt, you should probably have a medical report to back it up.” “Otherwise, faking an illness for sympathy… people might think you’re pathetic.” Luna’s body went rigid, her face turning an even more ghastly shade of white. Damian immediately shielded her with his body. “Shut up, Rachel!” he roared. “Don’t you dare say another word to her!” I watched his white-knight routine, finding it utterly absurd. “Hurt her?” I let out a cold laugh. “The person who’s truly hurting her is you.” “You’re the one who gave her false hope. You’re the one who let her believe she could walk all over me to get what she wanted.” “You, Damian, are the root of this entire tragedy.” The Hales’ blacklisting was swift and brutal. All of my projects were canceled. My team was forced to disband. Only Carla remained by my side. The online hate campaign against me was relentless. Extremist fans doxxed me, throwing paint on my front gate and sending me anonymous death threats. Carla called the police, but it was useless. They were like flies drawn to blood; for every one they shooed away, another dozen would appear. Meanwhile, Damian and Luna were thriving. They attended a charity gala together, and in front of the cameras, Damian looked at Luna with boundless affection. “I will handle my personal affairs as quickly as possible,” he announced to the press, “and give Luna the official status she deserves.” The internet erupted, celebrating their “epic love story.” And I was cast as the villain, the evil ex-wife standing in the way of their happiness. Mrs. Hale called me again, her tone dripping with the condescending pity of a victor. “Do you regret it now, Rachel? I told you, you’re no match for me.” “But I’m feeling generous. Kneel and beg me.” “Then, post a public apology, taking full responsibility. Admit you were jealous of Luna and maliciously started these rumors.” “Do that, and I might consider leaving you with a shred of a career.” Her words were so preposterous I could only laugh. “Mrs. Hale, have you forgotten my last name?” My father is Robert Reed. Though long since retired from the front lines, his name still commands immense respect in the world of finance. My mother is one of the country’s most celebrated artists, a master whose students are scattered throughout the art world. I was never some helpless vine who needed the Hale family to survive. The only reason I hadn’t used my family’s connections was to preserve a final ounce of dignity—for myself, and for the man I once loved. But it was clear they didn’t want it. Mrs. Hale’s voice turned to ice. “It seems you’re determined to be stubborn.” “Then don’t blame me for being ruthless.” “Rachel, I will teach you the true meaning of despair.” After she hung up, my father called. His voice was as calm and steady as ever. “Rachel, you’ve been wronged.” “Do whatever you feel you must. Your father will always be your strongest shield.” Tears welled in my eyes. The pain and humiliation I had bottled up for days finally burst forth. “Dad,” I choked out, “I’m okay.” After the call, I wiped my tears and dialed another number. “Interested in a business proposition?” A low, smooth laugh answered me. “An invitation from Ms. Reed? I’m always interested.” “Tell me,” the voice purred, “how do you want to play?”

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The day I was welcomed back into the family, my fiancé, the one I’d been betrothed to since birth, was already planning his wedding to the fake heiress. My new parents shielded her behind them. “We are a prominent family, and Jane was raised by us to be a proper lady!” “You’ve spent twenty years as a street urchin. You’re not fit for high society. Know your place.” My supposed fiancé, Byron, pulled the fake heiress into his arms. “The Vance family has no need for a classless country bumpkin. And I could never love a social climber desperate to latch onto wealth.” The fake heiress, Jane, dropped to her knees at my feet. “I know this was all meant to be yours, sister, but Byron and I are truly in love! Please, I’m begging you, let us be happy!” Hold on. I’m a guy. What the hell do I need a fiancé for? Did any of these people even glance at my file before bringing me here? Although… My eyes drifted to Jane. She did look rather pitifully beautiful… 1 I watched Jane’s tears stream down her face like a tragic heroine’s, saw the defensive glares from my parents and my “fiancé,” and quickly waved my hands. “Look, I know I have long hair, but that’s purely for artistic reasons. My gender is—” “What’s wrong with long hair?” Byron cut me off, his voice sharp. “Long or short, you have no right to set foot in the Vance family home.” “No, that’s not what I meant. I have long hair, but I’m—” “Enough!” My parents thrust a thick binder into my hands. “We don’t have time for your excuses. When the poor suddenly strike it rich, the first thing they do is try to steal what isn’t theirs. Memorize these rules. I’ll be quizzing you at eight tonight.” The document, thicker than a textbook, landed heavily in my lap. I flipped through it. Mr. Sterling takes his morning coffee with three sugars, served at precisely 113 degrees Fahrenheit. Mrs. Sterling’s sandwiches must have the crusts cut off, no mayonnaise. Jane begins her dance practice at dawn. Her practice clothes and towel must be folded into perfect rectangles and placed side-by-side on the bench. Before the housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, begins cooking, the vegetables must be washed and chopped within thirty minutes to not disrupt her workflow. I held up the binder. “So, I’m supposed to wait on Mrs. Gable too?” “You’re new here. Twenty years on the streets have made you wild. You must learn the rules,” my mother said icily. “The Sterlings are a family of standing. Just because you’re our child doesn’t mean you can run wild.” “If you can’t learn the rules, you don’t deserve to call us Mom and Dad.” I pointed at Jane. “Then why doesn’t she have to do any of this?” “Julian!” Byron’s voice was a low growl as he stepped in front of Jane. “Are you suggesting my fiancée should act like a servant?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “So you do know this is a list of chores for a servant!” With a flick of my wrist, I sent the binder flying. Pages fluttered through the air like morbid confetti. “If you didn’t want me back, just say so! Who are you trying to humiliate with all these rules? The Sterling family? I don’t want any part of it!” I turned to leave. A flash of panic crossed my parents’ faces. Humiliating me was one thing. Kicking out their long-lost child the day he returned would be a scandal they couldn’t afford. “Julian! Come back! We were just joking!” “You don’t have to learn the rules! Just come back!” I was about to stop when a hand grabbed mine. I turned. Jane was looking up at me, her eyes shimmering with tears. My gaze dropped to our intertwined hands, and for a second, my heart skipped a beat. “Sister… if anyone should leave, it’s me. I know you must hate me.” “It’s fine, I understand. I know that the life I have was stolen from you. I’ll go!” “Wait, wait,” I said, trying to pull my hand away. “Don’t call me sister. I’m—” “I know…” she interrupted, her voice choked with sobs. “You resent me. You won’t accept me as your sister. But don’t worry, I won’t fight you for Mom, Dad, or Byron…” With that, she covered her mouth and ran for the door. I moved to stop her, but a heavy shoulder slammed into me, sending me stumbling. My head narrowly missed the corner of a table. Byron had already caught Jane, pulling her into a comforting embrace while my parents rushed to her side, cooing softly. “Don’t stop me! Let me go, sob…” Jane struggled, but every movement seemed to press her deeper into Byron’s chest. Finally, the three of them were clinging to each other in a tearful group hug. “It’s all his fault!” my mother cried. “If he had never come back, our sweet Jane would never have been hurt!” Hearing her words, I rubbed my bruised knee. This entire family was certifiably insane. But… My eyes narrowed. Walking away now would be letting them off too easy. A prominent family, they said? Fine. This family fortune? I’m coming for it. 2 The next day, the Sterlings laid out their terms. They would accept me. “However, to the public, Jane will remain the true Sterling heiress. You will be our adoptive son.” “Jane has been suffering ever since you arrived. Consider this compensation for her pain.” I didn’t argue. Blood is blood. A piece of paper couldn’t change that. When the time came, they’d have to give me my due. Whether I was the “true heir” or not… what did it matter? Jane, Byron, and I all attended the same university. In the science lab, I borrowed a classmate’s hand mirror and studied my reflection. Long hair, a slender face. Though my features had a masculine edge, I was often mistaken for a woman with a strong, striking look. A phone appeared in my peripheral vision. “Hey beautiful, can I get your number?” I replied on instinct. “Dude, I’m a guy.” The guy stared at me for a moment, surprised. He didn’t lower his phone. “Works for me.” “Get lost!” I touched my neck. Was my Adam’s apple really that unnoticeable? Maybe I should stop wearing turtlenecks. Later, heading to the restroom, another hand reached out. Without looking up, I said, “Not interested.” The next thing I knew, I was being dragged into the men’s room. “You’re that little bitch causing trouble for Jane, aren’t you? Asking for numbers? Who the hell do you think you are?” My chin was forced up. A few guys leered at me with nasty grins. “You’re not bad-looking, I’ll give you that. But some things are way out of your league, bitch. Get the camera ready. We’re gonna film this freak’s every move!” It clicked. They were going to take compromising photos. Even though I’m a guy, I don’t let anyone push me around. My fist shattered the phone’s camera lens. My next blow connected with the leader’s nose. A sickening crunch echoed in the tiled room. “Holy shit! This bitch is strong!” I grabbed his collar. “You picked the wrong guy to mess with!” “Damn, for a girl, she can really fight!” “Get her! What are you waiting for?!” I kicked one of them down and made a break for it, but there were too many of them. Another guy blocked the door. An arm wrapped around my neck, and I was hauled back. “You bitch, you dare hit me!” A fist slammed into my face. I tasted blood instantly. I didn’t back down, gritting my teeth and fighting back with everything I had. But they overwhelmed me, pinning me against the cold, tiled wall. “Rip her clothes off!” My turtleneck was torn at the collar as three or four pairs of hands clawed at me. The new phone’s camera was pointed right at my body. Just as they were about to rip the shirt from my chest, a furious voice roared from the doorway. “Stop!” 3 I was pinned to the wall, a forearm crushing my throat. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth, and my eyes were red with fury. When Byron walked in, that’s the sight that greeted him: me, cornered and bloodied, but still fighting like a cornered wolf. “M-Mr. Vance…” the guys stammered, their bravado vanishing instantly. “Who told you to do this?” Byron’s voice was dangerously low. “Uh… we were just trying to stand up for Jane…” “I’ll deal with him my own way. It has nothing to do with you.” “Yes, sir…” With a sigh of impatience, Byron’s cold gaze landed on me. “Get a handle on yourself. Stop embarrassing Jane out in public.” “You’re insane!” I spat, wiping the blood from my mouth, which only smeared it across my cheek. He frowned, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “I’m the one who got jumped! If anyone needs to get a handle on themselves, it’s you and Jane!” Shoving past him, I slammed my shoulder into his, repaying him for the shove he’d given me yesterday. Muttering “freaking psycho” under my breath, I went to the sink to clean my wounds. As I was splashing cold water on my face, a tube of antiseptic cream was placed quietly on the counter beside me. I looked up. Byron glanced at me, his eyes unreadable. “Don’t get the wrong idea,” he said flatly. “I just don’t want you running to my aunt and uncle with some sob story to make Jane look bad.” Then he turned and walked out. My mouth twitched. Yep. A whole family of psychos. 4 When I got back to the Sterling mansion, a dinner party was in full swing. The Vance family were the guests of honor. For someone living on a six-hundred-dollar-a-month allowance, the high-society chatter held zero interest for me. I was focused on the food. That is, until something fell out of my pocket. Before I could react, Jane had already bent down to pick it up. “Sister…” she said, holding up the used tube of antiseptic cream, her smile strained. “I never knew you were so resourceful. Yesterday you were disowning the family, and today you’ve already managed to get a gift from my fiancé?” I kept chewing. How could such a pretty girl be so relentlessly passive-aggressive? “I forgot to throw it out,” I said honestly. After I’d used it, I couldn’t find a trash can and just shoved it in my pocket. “You can’t even come up with a better excuse than that, sister?” Her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, stopping my fork midway to my mouth. I sighed. “Look, miss, I promise you, on my life, I will never, ever fight you over a man.” She waved the cream in my face, her laugh dripping with scorn. “I know your type. These little games, stirring up drama—it’s what people from the gutter do best, isn’t it? But do you really think your pathetic little tricks will actually win Byron over? Let’s make a bet, shall we? Let’s see who he saves—you, or me?” Before I could process her words, she yanked me with surprising force. “Hey! What are you doing?!” “Ah! Sister, why are you pushing me?!” Tangled together, we both tumbled into the ornamental lake. I tried to break the surface for air, but she was pinning me down, making a show of flailing and choking. “Help me! Byron!” “Jane!” Byron’s panicked voice cut through the chaos, followed by a loud splash. I choked on a mouthful of water. “Byron! You—” A wave crashed over my head. Byron shoved me aside without a second glance, scooping Jane into his arms. He carried her back to the shore without looking back, leaving me alone in the dark water. I thrashed, trying to stay afloat. On the bank, Jane was already weaving her story. “I… I don’t know what happened. I just picked up the tube of cream for my sister, and she pushed me into the water…” Byron’s eyes fell on the used antiseptic cream, and his expression turned thunderous. “Julian! I knew it! Your act this afternoon was just to get sympathy! The moment no one’s watching, you attack Jane?” He gritted his teeth. “You really are despicable!” My parents rushed to Jane’s side, their faces streaked with tears. “Julian! We took you in out of the kindness of our hearts, and this is how you treat our daughter?!” “It’s true what they say. Twenty years without proper raising… you’re nothing but gutter-trash, your mind filled with jealousy and spite!” The party guests stared, their whispers like hissing snakes. “That adoptive son is so ungrateful! The Sterlings really took in a viper!” “You can’t wash the filth off someone from the streets. Poverty breeds a twisted soul.” Jane dabbed at her eyes, but she shot a quick, triumphant glance in my direction. Her smirk said it all. See? He chose me. Psycho. It’s not like I can’t swim. 5 By the time I dragged myself out of the lake, Byron had already carried Jane inside the villa, my parents trailing anxiously behind him. As I stood there dripping, the guests’ whispers followed me. “That adoptive son is quite striking, though. Almost androgynous.” “It’s often the case. Masculine women and feminine men tend to be the most beautiful.” “A shame he has such a dark heart.” …What is wrong with these high-society types? They’re all as crazy as the Sterlings. The cuts on my face stung from the lake water. Cursing under my breath, I headed back to my room. The moment I opened the door, Jane was there, her eyes red-rimmed as she grabbed my hand. “Julian, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to push you in. I’m just so scared of losing them. Without them, I have nowhere to go. Please don’t hate me…” My voice was ice. “You’re so scared of being abandoned that you’ll sacrifice an innocent person without a second thought?” “Julian…” Her eyes welled up again. I cut her off. “Save it. There’s no one here to watch your performance.” I actually used to find her charming. How could she be this kind of person? “And one more thing. Stay out of my room.” I pushed her out and locked the door behind her. After tending to my wounds and taking a hot shower, I slept soundly until morning. I had barely opened my eyes when I heard Jane’s frantic cries from outside. “My dress can’t be gone! I left it right on my desk, ready for my birthday today!” Jane’s dress is missing? My bedroom door burst open. Jane stood there, her eyes swollen from crying, and then she pointed dramatically at my closet. “Ah! Is that…?” I turned. A sliver of red fabric was visible, peeking out from the closet door. Byron stormed into the room and yanked the closet open. A magnificent, diamond-encrusted couture gown tumbled out. Jane gasped, covering her mouth. “Julian… did you… did you steal my dress?” 6 So that’s why Jane was in my room last night. It wasn’t an apology. She was planting the dress and I caught her before she could leave. “How could you!” My mother shoved me back onto the bed. “Jealousy is one thing, we can almost understand that. But to think you’d resort to stealing! How did we ever give birth to such a worthless son!” My jaw dropped. “Worthless son?” Even if I was a guy, is that something a parent should ever say to their child? “Call the police! Call them now! We can’t let him get away with this!” “Mom!” Jane rushed to her side. “It’s okay. Julian has probably never seen such a beautiful dress before. He was just momentarily tempted. I forgive him!” “Never seen one so he can just steal it?!” my father roared. “This is a matter of principle!” “But… Dad, that dress is worth over a million dollars. If you call the police, he’ll go to jail.” “Then let him go to jail!” my mother shrieked, her eyes blazing with hatred. “If he doesn’t learn a hard lesson, he’ll never change!” Byron glanced at me, his expression unreadable. The wail of sirens grew louder outside. I pinched the bridge of my nose. This was getting ridiculous. 7 I thought I could just explain myself in court and this would all be over. I was wrong. On the day of the trial, my lawyer was replaced. The one who had prepared my entire defense was swapped out for someone my parents had hired. This new lawyer was famous for one thing: saying absolutely nothing. As I stared in disbelief at the lengths they would go to, I saw them sitting with the lawyer they’d hired for Jane—Mr. Davies, the man who’d supposedly give Disney’s legal team a run for their money. He had never lost a case. My parents looked at me, their faces hard as stone. “Julian, it’s time you took responsibility for your actions.” After Mr. Davies delivered a long, eloquent prosecution, it was my lawyer’s turn. I looked at him, waiting. He cleared his throat and spoke in a calm, measured tone. “No objections.” A smug smile touched my mother’s lips. “In that case,” the judge began, “this court finds the defendant, Julian Sterling, guilty of theft…”

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Right before we boarded our flight to Bali for our honeymoon, my wife suddenly turned to me. “I’m going to run and grab you a coffee from that little place you like. You wait right here for me.” But six hours passed. Then, my phone buzzed with a notification. It was a racy video. My wife had already landed in Bali. In the ocean-view suite I had booked, she was locked in a passionate kiss with a male intern from her company. I forwarded the video directly to her. “Did you go all the way to Bali to source some rare, imported coffee beans?” Her reply was casual, almost bored. “The company’s IPO is just around the corner. You need to stop thinking about vacations all the time. We can do the honeymoon later.” In the background, I could hear the intern’s mocking whistle. “Some of these rich husbands are so clueless. They really think money makes them invincible, don’t they?” A cold, sharp laugh escaped my lips. Whether or not money makes me invincible… We were about to find out. 1 I booked every single seat on every flight returning from Bali to our home country for the next two weeks. If Ava didn’t want to see me, then she would never have to come back at all. Ten minutes later, my phone was ringing. It was her. “Leo, are you insane? The IPO signing is in three days! If I’m not there, do you have any idea how much money we’ll lose?” she shrieked. “Tell them to get the flights back online now!” Her furious tone was laced with panic, but I just chuckled softly. “You said you never wanted to see me again. I’m just making your wish come true.” Before she could answer, the intern’s whiny voice came through the phone. “Ava, it’s all my fault. I was just being selfish. I’ll go apologize to Mr. Hayes, okay?” Ava cut him off, her voice tight with suppressed rage as she spoke to me. “I was just taking my little brother out for a trip. I forgot to tell you. Stop making a scene.” I let out a derisive snort. “Right. Well, you two have a great time. In fact, I’ll even book you a couples’ package tour.” She finally lost her composure. “Leo! What the hell do you want?!” “Either he’s out of the company, or the company goes under. Your choice.” Thirty minutes later, I received an email notification of the intern’s, Caleb’s, termination. I immediately called the airline. “Reopen the return flights.” Then, I sent Ava a picture. It was a series of termination documents for several of her key confidantes at the company. “Ava, remember where my line is. This is just a warning. If you provoke me again, you’ll face the consequences.” She didn’t reply. I knew she must hate me right now. But the fire in my own chest burned hotter. She had no idea what I had sacrificed for this honeymoon, canceling a packed schedule of crucial project meetings. I had hoped this trip would be a chance for us to rediscover the sweetness and joy we once had. After all, she was the one who had come to my grandmother, begging her to let me marry her, claiming she’d had a secret crush on me for years. My grandmother, moved by her sincerity, had told me to consider it. Otherwise, given her background, she would have never been a match for me. In the years since our wedding, she had managed our home perfectly. She was a doting and respectful daughter-in-law to my parents. Whenever I came home late from business dinners, no matter the hour, she would leave a light on for me in the living room, a thermos of hot, soothing broth always waiting on the table. She even remembered a passing comment I’d made about a rare aged tea and scoured every tea shop in the city to find it for me. Slowly, I had come to believe that her story of a long-held crush was true. And slowly, I had fallen for her. For years, we were the picture of a perfect couple, what everyone called a match made in heaven. I never imagined she would shatter that peace for a man she barely knew. 2 The next day, I left work early and drove to the airport to pick Ava up. I leaned against the car, waiting patiently. My phone was silent, but I figured she just hadn’t gotten my last message before her flight. The minutes ticked by. Her flight had landed, but there was still no sign of her. I tried calling. It rang a few times and then was disconnected. The certainty I’d felt that she would come home obediently began to crumble, replaced by a rising tide of irritation. Then, the housekeeper called, her voice hesitant. “Sir, Madam has brought a stranger home…” Something was wrong. I raced home. The moment I walked in the door, I saw it: clothes strewn across the floor and two figures on the couch, wrapped up in each other. The click of the lock startled them. Ava looked up and saw me. She scrambled to pull down her sleeves, her hair a mess, and stammered, “Don’t misunderstand. This was an accident.” I sneered. “An accident? Funny, I don’t see you accidentally streaking in the street.” A flash of anger crossed Ava’s face, but before she could speak, Caleb, the man behind her, was fumbling to grab his scattered clothes. “S-Sorry. I shouldn’t be here. I’ll leave right now.” His voice was hoarse, still heavy with ragged breaths. He clearly hadn’t recovered from their “accident.” But as he bent over, I saw it. A protective charm hanging around his neck. My heart stopped. When Ava and I were first married, she often complained about how late nights at work were ruining her health. Worried, I made a pilgrimage to an old monastery in the mountains. I climbed the stone steps from the base to the summit on my knees to pray for a charm to keep her safe. When I gave it to her, she had hugged me, overjoyed, and promised she would wear it always, that it would never leave her side. I fought to keep my voice steady, my eyes locked on him. “Take that thing off your neck.” He just looked at Ava with a pathetic, wounded expression. I strode over, grabbing him by the neck, trying to rip the charm off him. Ava shoved me away. “Leo, are you sick in the head? Are you going to hit him?!” Caught off guard, I stumbled back, the sharp corner of the coffee table digging into my shin. A searing pain shot up my leg. I stared at my wife in disbelief. “You tell me why the charm I got for you is on his neck!” Ava’s eyes darted away. “What are you yelling about? Caleb isn’t well. What’s wrong with me letting him wear it for a while?” She glanced at me, her tone dismissive. “It’s just a little trinket. Why are you being so dramatic?” “A little trinket?” I laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I got that for you on my knees! And you gave it to an outsider?” “He stole it! I’m calling the police right now and reporting him for theft!” Ava’s voice suddenly rose to a scream. She tore the charm from Caleb’s neck and threw it at my face. “Are you insane? It’s a stupid cloth pouch! Who would even want it!” The hard edge of the red fabric scraped my cheek, a sharp, stinging pain. I reached up and touched the spot. My fingertips came away wet with blood. I looked down at the tiny crimson bead forming on my skin, and the whole situation felt absurdly, horribly laughable. Seeing the blood, Ava’s eyes widened with a flicker of panic, but she quickly masked it, her face turning back into a cold, indifferent mask. She turned away. “You need to calm down.” Then, without another look back, she grabbed Caleb’s hand and pulled him out the door. 3 The door slammed shut, leaving me alone in the chilling silence of the room. I sat stiffly on the couch, stunned. In our three years of marriage, I had genuinely loved Ava. But what about her? For an intern she’d known for less than a month, she had trampled on my heart again and again. This time, there would be no forgiveness. There would be no turning back. I called my lawyer and arranged to meet him at a nearby café to draw up divorce papers. “Regarding the division of assets, have you two discussed anything beforehand?” he asked, handing me a form. My eyes fell on the “Joint Savings” section, and for a split second, I hesitated. Suddenly, a piercing alarm blared from my phone. It was the motion-activated animal sensor at home. My hands fumbled as I pulled up the security feed. A surge of hot blood rushed to my head. On the screen, Caleb was standing in the middle of the living room, one hand clutching a bleeding arm, his face twisted in a snarl. “Stupid cat, you dare scratch me!” he yelled. He grabbed a rope and looped it around the neck of my cat, Lily, hoisting her into the air. Lily dangled, her legs kicking uselessly, her throat letting out a sound like a broken accordion wheezing. She was suffocating. He seemed to notice the slight turn of the camera lens and spoke deliberately. “Ava, I think she’s stopped breathing. What should I do? You don’t think Leo will be mad at you when he gets back, do you?” Ava, who was carefully bandaging his arm, didn’t even look up. “As long as you’re okay. That little beast deserved to die for scratching you.” I grabbed my car keys and bolted, the lawyer’s shouts fading behind me. Lily, hang on. You have to hang on until I get there. My hands were still shaking as I jammed the key into the lock. The door swung open to a dead, terrifying silence. Caleb was gone. Lily was curled into a tiny, still ball on the floor. Her body was already cold. Her once fluffy, soft golden fur was matted and tangled, her body covered in dried bloodstains. Her paws, once so nimble, were twisted at grotesque angles. I slowly knelt, my trembling fingers touching her stiff fur as tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t bear to imagine the torture she must have endured while I was racing home. “You’re back?” Ava emerged casually from the bedroom. Seeing my tear-streaked face, her tone was flat. “I know how much you loved Lily, but she scratched Caleb. He’s at the hospital getting it disinfected right now.” She glanced at the small body on the floor, her brow furrowed in disgust. “Clean that up. It’s getting blood all over the floor. It’s filthy.” “Filthy?” My voice trembled. “That was Lily! You were the one who found her in an alley, who said we would treat her like our own child!” She just shrugged. “It’s just an animal. If it’s dead, we’ll just buy another one.” Looking at her cold, heartless expression, my heart sank into a black abyss. She suddenly held out a stack of papers. “Sign this.” I glanced up. It was a letter of recommendation. For Caleb. When I didn’t move, she added, “You got Caleb fired. The poor guy has nothing. The General Manager position at your main company is open. Let him have it.” The absurdity and cruelty of it all was staggering. I shoved the papers away, the rage barely contained. “I’m telling you, Ava! As long as I am on the board of this company, he will never set foot in the head office!” 4 With that, I turned my back on her, cradled Lily’s body in my arms, and walked out. I took her to a small garden she had loved to play in, laid her favorite toys beside her, and buried her with my own hands. Looking at the small mound of fresh earth, the tears finally fell freely. The love between Ava and me, just like Lily, was now dead and buried. Before I could even process my grief, my phone started buzzing with notifications. News was breaking everywhere. Ava had used the company’s official account to release a statement, accusing me of abusing my power, bullying employees, and even tax evasion. Every accusation was a baseless lie, but they were crafted to sound plausible. Instantly, the company’s stock plummeted. The internet erupted with a firestorm of accusations and condemnations. “How dare a company this big commit tax fraud! They need to be brought down!” “I always knew the CEO of a corporation like that had to be scum. I hope he rots in jail!” A message from Ava followed. “Agree to my previous request. Give Caleb the GM position at the head office, and I’ll make all of this go away immediately.” I didn’t reply. Another message came. “You have one night to think it over.” I stared at the words, a crushing weight settling on my chest, making it hard to breathe. For Caleb, she was willing to do this—to destroy me, to destroy our company. If that was the case, then she could no longer blame me for showing no mercy. She wanted mutually assured destruction? I would grant her wish. But the price was one I doubted she and Caleb could afford to pay. The next day, the company’s IPO ribbon-cutting ceremony proceeded as scheduled. I knew she would be there. I knew she would be waiting for my answer. I took a deep breath, straightened my suit, and drove to the venue. From a distance, I could see her standing at the podium, Caleb’s arm linked with hers. They looked intimate, like a celestial couple. Caleb saw me, his eyes filled with a taunting arrogance, as if declaring his victory. Ava’s gaze swept over to me, and a confident smirk played on her lips. She probably thought I had finally come to my senses, ready to surrender. She cleared her throat, her smile triumphant. “Friends from the media! I have a very important announcement to make. Mr. Caleb Vance will be appointed as the new General Manager of our company!” I walked towards them, stopping a few feet from the stage. The reporters swarmed, their cameras flashing relentlessly. “Mr. Hayes, are the online rumors about you abusing your power true?” “We hear that you and Ms. Jiang are married. Is your relationship over, now that she’s on another man’s arm?” I ignored the cacophony of questions. My eyes were fixed on Ava. My voice, amplified by the microphone, carried clearly across the entire venue, laced with an undeniable finality. “Let’s get a divorce.” The smile froze on her face. Her pupils contracted in stunned, disbelieving shock. I didn’t give her time to react. “Furthermore,” I continued, “the false information you have fabricated and spread about me constitutes a criminal offense. I have already submitted the relevant evidence to the police.” “All investments in Jiang Industries are hereby suspended. We’ll see you in court.”

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The day my foster mother made a run for it, she deliberately shoved me from the moving car. I landed on my head, and the world went fuzzy. The doctors said my brain was damaged, that I had the mind of a five-year-old. After that, I became much better behaved. More obedient. When my birth parents finally found me and brought me home, the fake heiress who had taken my place refused to let me in the door. She stood on the edge of the three-foot-deep swimming pool, threatening to end her life. “If there’s no room for me in this family, then I might as well be dead!” But she never jumped. So I obediently walked over to her, my small hands trembling, and gave her a little push. “I’ll help you, sister.” Splash. My new mother and father spun around to look at me, their faces masks of pure shock. 1 Before I even had a chance to step inside my new home, Penelope, the girl who had lived my life for fifteen years, was standing by the villa’s swimming pool, sobbing hysterically. “Mom, Dad, I’ve been your daughter for fifteen years! Are you throwing me away now?” Seeing her cry, my mother’s eyes immediately welled up with sympathetic tears. “Penny, darling, it’s not like that.” “You will always be our daughter. We will always love you.” Penelope just shook her head, frantically clawing at her own hair. “Then why did you bring her back? Send her away!” She pointed a finger at me, her eyes burning with a hatred I didn’t understand. Clutching my teddy bear, I shrank behind my father, terrified. “Penny,” he began, his voice strained, “the orphanage and the police found her and contacted us. Please don’t blame us for this.” “Now that we’ve found Pathy, we couldn’t just leave her, could we?” At his words, Penelope seemed to calm down, just a little. I hated it when adults fought. When my foster parents argued, they would both take it out on me. My foster mother would grab me, her teeth gritted, and beat my backside until it was raw. “It’s all your fault, you worthless brat.” “Why aren’t you dead yet?” Not to be outdone, my foster father would grab the leather belt and whip my back relentlessly. “Don’t you dare cry! I can’t stand the noise!” While they hit me, they would compare whose blows left the deepest red marks. So, from a very young age, I learned how to please adults. I had to be careful every single day, terrified of their bad moods, terrified they would start fighting. Seeing Penelope and my new parents arguing, their faces red with anger, filled me with that same old fear. Trying to change the subject, I spoke up in a small, cautious voice. “Mommy, Daddy, is sister the real daughter of my foster mommy? My foster mommy missed her sister very much.” My mother shot me a look, her eyes squeezed tight. I didn’t understand. “Mommy, does your eye hurt?” Penelope stared at our parents, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. My mother’s face was a mask of anxiety. She yanked me out from behind my father. “Don’t talk nonsense. Go and apologize to your sister.” “But you said…” I started, confused. Before I could finish, she was pushing me toward Penelope. Penelope looked at our parents, her voice thick with self-pity. “It’s my fault I’m not your real daughter. I shouldn’t have taken my sister’s place.” “If there’s no room for me in this family, then I might as well be dead.” She shuffled closer and closer to the edge of the pool. But she never jumped. Clutching my teddy bear, I obediently walked over to her. Trembling, I reached out my hands and gave her a little push. “I’ll help you, sister.” Splash. My new mother and father spun around to look at me, their eyes wide with shock. 2 “Ah, help me~” Penelope thrashed in the water, bobbing up and down, struggling desperately. I smiled and patted my teddy bear’s head. “Don’t be scared, Teddy. We helped sister.” “Now she’ll be happy.” My parents were still frozen, staring at me as if they’d never seen me before. “Dad! Mom! Help!” Penelope’s cry finally snapped my father out of his trance. He dove into the pool and hauled her out. The second her feet touched the ground, Penelope shoved me aside and threw herself into our mother’s arms. The force of her push sent me sprawling to the ground. My teddy bear tumbled out of my arms and rolled into the pool. “Mom, Dad, Pathy tried to kill me!” Penelope wailed. “I don’t know what I did to make my sister hate me so much.” My parents rushed to wrap her in towels, fussing over her, cooing words of comfort. No one noticed that the bear I loved most in the world was now at the bottom of the pool. I knelt at the edge, my own tears starting to fall. “Teddy, don’t be scared! I’m coming to save you!” Splash. I jumped in. I paddled frantically towards my sinking bear, forgetting for a moment that I didn’t know how to swim. My fingers finally closed around his soft body. But I couldn’t breathe. I began to sink, just like that time my foster mother threw me in the river, watching the surface of the water get farther and farther away. On the shore, my new parents hadn’t noticed a thing. Once again, I quietly closed my eyes. When I was little, I used to wash clothes by the river in the winter. The water was so cold my hands would go numb. One day, a piece of clothing slipped from my grasp and was swept away by the current. When my foster mother found out, she dragged me to the river and threw me in. As I struggled in the freezing water, she stood on the bank, screaming curses at me. “You worthless brat! I’m going to teach you a lesson today! Let’s see if you ever dare to be lazy again!” But I was never lazy. I was always a good girl. That day, as I sank into the icy river, my life flashed before my eyes like a movie. Me, a tiny child, standing on a stool to cook. My foster parents beating me senseless. The endless, ugly words they hurled at me. … When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. A doctor was speaking in a low, regretful voice. “The trauma to her brain has left Pathy with the cognitive function of a five-year-old. With intensive therapy, there’s a chance she could recover someday.” My father let out a long sigh. “Doctor, we’ll leave her recovery in your hands.” The doctor hesitated. “There’s one more thing. During the examination, we found her body is covered in old injuries. Should we contact the police?” At his words, my mother came closer. She lifted the hospital gown. The moment they saw the landscape of scars and bruises that covered my body, my parents froze, their eyes reddening in unison. 3 When I was fully awake, I realized my teddy bear was gone. “Where’s Teddy? I want my Teddy!” My parents finally remembered they had left my bear in the pool. My mother hugged me, stroking my hair. “Pathy, sweetie, don’t cry. Mommy will take you home to find Teddy, okay?” I wiped my tears and nodded. Back at the villa, my father fished the bear out of the water for me. I clutched the dripping toy to my chest, refusing to let go. As we stepped inside, my twin brother, Mason, appeared, blocking my path. “Pathy, stop right there.” His face was contorted with anger. “Did you push Penny into the pool?” “Sister said she wanted to die,” I explained quickly. “I was just trying to help her.” Smack. A stinging red handprint bloomed on my cheek. “Who the hell do you think you are?” Mason roared. “How dare you try to hurt Penny! This is her home! Penny is my only sister!” My mother rushed over. “Mason, stop it!” “Mom, Dad, why did you have to bring her back?” he demanded. “What’s going to happen to Penny now? She’s so sensitive, she won’t be able to handle this!” I was so scared I started to cry, biting my lip to keep the sobs in. It was just like when my foster parents would come home angry and slap me for no reason. I stood frozen, clutching my bear, staring at my brother’s furious face. Suddenly, a warm stream trickled down my leg. The shame was a hot, suffocating wave. I buried my face in my bear’s fur. Everyone saw the puddle forming at my feet. I squeezed my legs together, trying to hold back the tears. Mason’s anger faltered. “Pathy, you…” Smack. Smack. My father, his face livid, slapped Mason twice across the face. “If you ever lay a hand on your sister or scare her like that again, you can get out of this house. Pathy is your real sister.” Mason stood there, stunned, his eyes fixed on me with a complicated expression I couldn’t read. Tears streaming down my face, I let my mother lead me to the bathroom. 4 After my bath, my mother brought me a beautiful dress. It was covered in sparkling crystals, just like the princess dresses I’d seen on TV. I was so happy. Forgetting all about the scars that crisscrossed my arms, I put on the dress and twirled in front of the mirror again and again. When I came out, Penelope looked me up and down. Suddenly, she lunged at me. “Why are you wearing my dress? Did you ask for my permission? You thief! Take it off!” She started tearing at the fabric, her nails scratching angry red lines onto my skin. “It was Mommy who gave it to me,” I cried, my eyes wide with confusion. “I’m not a thief.” But she kept pulling and tearing. Finally, I just undid the zipper and handed the dress to her. I stood there, naked and lost in the middle of the living room. My parents came downstairs and saw me. Their faces darkened with anger. Seeing them, Penelope immediately burst into tears. “Mom, Dad, Pathy stole my dress! Is she going to try and take everything from me?” “Penny,” my father said, his voice sharp with disapproval, “you have over two hundred dresses. Didn’t we tell you to give a few to your sister?” Penelope pouted. “But I hadn’t decided which ones to give her yet, and she just took it!” My mother’s eyebrows drew together. She slapped Penelope across the face and snatched the dress away from her. “I gave this dress to your sister. When did you learn to start stripping the clothes off people’s backs?” Penelope’s face crumpled in disbelief. “Mom, you hit me? For her?” She shot me a look of pure venom and ran out of the villa. 5 My mother’s eyes were red as she came over to help me put the dress back on. I refused, shaking my head frantically. “Sister doesn’t want me to wear it. I’m scared. I don’t want it.” Her heart broke. She pulled me into a hug. “How about Mommy takes you shopping for new clothes, okay?” My father came over and handed me a black credit card. “Pathy, from now on, you can use this to buy whatever you want.” I smiled and nodded. When we returned from the mall, loaded with shopping bags, we found Penelope in the living room with a pair of scissors. She was cutting up my teddy bear. Snip by snip, she was dismembering him, shredding his soft fur, yanking out all the cotton stuffing and tossing it into the air like confetti. Mason sat beside her, watching with a look of deep sympathy. “Feeling better now, Penny?” Penelope swept the tattered remains of my bear off the table and onto the floor, grinding them under her heel. A triumphant smile spread across her face. “Much better. No one has ever dared to take something that’s mine. This is just a little punishment for her.” Mason stroked her hair. “Don’t worry, Penny. She won’t take Mom, Dad, or me from you.” Penelope linked her arm through his, her smile sweet. I stood rooted to the spot, tears welling in my eyes, my mind a complete blank. That bear was the only friend I’d ever had. After my foster mother threw me in the river, I had a fever for seven days straight. A kind neighbor brought me medicine and, to cheer me up, gave me that teddy bear. It was the only toy I’d owned in my entire life. Later, when my foster parents locked me in a dark closet for three days, Teddy was with me. When the other kids at the orphanage bullied me, Teddy was with me. … My mother looked at me, her face etched with worry. “Pathy, sweetie, we’ll buy you a new bear, okay?” My father immediately turned and left the house to go buy one.

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1 My roommate, Sera, Venmoed me a hundred bucks to grab her some food from the dining hall. I was hesitating when a series of comments suddenly floated across my vision, visible only to me. 「You idiot. That’s Seraphina Sinclair, daughter of the richest man in New York. A true princess. Start sucking up to her now, and you’ll have everything you’ve ever wanted.」 「If you don’t, your best friend will. And trust me, she’ll make sure you never get the chance.」 「Exactly. Your ‘bestie’ already knows who Sera is. She’s just waiting for you to say no so she can swoop in and cut you out completely.」 My phone buzzed with a text. It was from Mila, my supposed best friend, who was sitting right across from me. 【Jenny, don’t you dare take her money. We may not be rich, but we have our pride. Let her deal with her own princess problems.】 She even gave me a knowing little blink. In that instant, a bone-deep chill washed over me. The next second, I switched apps, accepted the hundred dollars, and beamed at Seraphina with a fawning smile. “At your service, my lady. Your humble servant will return in a flash.” Sera gave me a surprised but amused look, nodded with a slight smile, and went back to watching The Crown on her laptop. Ignoring Mila’s dumbfounded expression, I bolted out of the dorm. I hadn’t gotten far when someone called my name. I turned to see Mila jogging to catch up. “Jenny, how could you take that money?” she panted, catching up to me. “I just told you, we have to have some self-respect! Seraphina’s entitled attitude is disgusting.” Knowing what she was really thinking, her hypocrisy was almost impressive. I put on a pitiful expression. “You know my family’s situation is way worse than yours, Mila. My mom’s sick and can’t work, and my dad barely makes five grand a month. This hundred bucks? That’s like three days’ work for him.” “It’s not that I don’t have pride,” I said, my voice cracking slightly. “It’s just… the princess pays really, really well.” With that, I turned and ran, leaving Mila fuming and stomping her foot on the pavement behind me. New comments flickered into view. 「Hahaha, Jenny Smelton finally gets it! She’s on the fast track to the good life now.」 「Totally. Sera’s parents made her promise to keep a low profile at college, not to just throw money at people. But look at her, day two and the princess is already acting like a princess.」 「She’s got that princess syndrome, for sure, but she’s still listening to her parents. She’ll probably just keep one person around to run errands, nothing too flashy.」 「Ugh, I’m so jealous of Jenny. If I were her, and the food got cold by the time I brought it back, I’d probably slap myself…」 That last comment really resonated with me. Right then and there, I decided these floating comments were my new career guide. And they said the princess would only hire one person for the whole of college. I couldn’t screw this up. Not with Mila circling like a vulture. I had to latch onto this golden opportunity and never let go. After buying the food, I sprinted back to the dorm faster than I’d ever run in my life. Bursting through the door, I saw Mila hovering around Seraphina, her face plastered with a sycophantic grin. Sera was still engrossed in her show, offering only distracted, one-word replies. “My… my lady! Your order has arrived!” I gasped, bent over and dripping with sweat. Sera looked up, genuinely surprised by my speed. She glanced at the clock and then back at me, a look of satisfaction spreading across her face. She picked up her phone and sent another hundred-dollar Venmo. “Not bad,” she said. “From now on, you work for me.” “Absolutely, my lady! Just think of me as your personal assistant, on call 24/7,” I said, unable to contain my joy. Sera took the food containers, covering a laugh with her hand. “What happened to being my ‘humble servant’?” I just grinned sheepishly. “Whatever makes you happy, my lady.” The look on Mila’s face was a toxic cocktail of envy, jealousy, and pure hatred. “Heh heh…” A soft chuckle came from the other side of the room. It was our fourth roommate, Chloe. Dressed head-to-toe in designer labels, she was clearly from a wealthy family too. I could tell she wasn’t laughing at me, but at the absurdity of the whole situation. I didn’t sense any malice, so I let it slide. Of the four of us, my family was by far the poorest, with Mila’s being a close second. “Jenny Smelton, that food looks like it’s from Dining Hall Two, doesn’t it? Everyone knows that place is famously terrible,” Mila said, pretending to wrinkle her nose. But the smirk in her eyes gave her away. In an instant, my face fell. When we’d all introduced ourselves yesterday, I’d just said my name was “Jenny.” I never offered my last name. Because with a name like mine, you don’t make friends. Let alone best friends. Mila was the exception. We’d been neighbors in elementary school, classmates through middle and high school, and now, by some twist of fate, college roommates. My name had been the butt of jokes my entire life. It was a miracle I’d survived it. Only Mila had never seemed to mind, though she did borrow money from me constantly. A few bucks in elementary school, then ten or twenty in middle school, and by high school, it was fifty, a hundred at a time. I always gave it to her, never asking for it back, even when it meant I had to skip lunch. I didn’t care. With her, I felt… respected. But now I saw that the respect was conditional. The moment I became a threat to her interests, she turned on me. I knew she’d said my full name just to hurt me. “It’s actually not bad,” Sera said, breaking the awkward silence. She took a bite and nodded. “The taste is fine.” Chloe bounced over. “Really? Maybe I’ll go check it out then. Of course, I’m not rich like you, Sera. Can’t afford a delivery fee, so I’ll have to go myself.” She gave my shoulder a friendly pat and strolled out of the room with a smile. Tears welled in my eyes as I watched her go. I turned back to Sera, who was happily digging into her meal. A sudden wave of warmth washed over me, soothing my frayed nerves. There was a reason rich people were rich. Their upbringing, their class… it was on a completely different level from anyone I’d known before. Mila, on the other hand, was left standing there, looking like a fool. This wasn’t how her script was supposed to go. In the past, saying my full name was the quickest way to crush my spirit. But it wasn’t working anymore. “Haha, well, maybe I’ll go try it too,” Mila mumbled, then scurried out of the room in disgrace. Half an hour later, Mila found me eating in the cafeteria. She sat down across from me, her face a mask of disappointment. “Jenny, I never thought you were this kind of person.” I feigned innocence. “What kind of person?” “You’re willing to throw away your dignity for money? Calling yourself a ‘humble servant,’ a ‘personal assistant’… Honestly, as your best friend, I’m embarrassed for you.” She looked at me with pity, as if trying to rescue me from my own greed. I laughed coldly to myself. What a fool I’ve been. “Mila, I know you think you’re looking out for me, but let me ask you something. Would you really choose dignity over money?” “You…” My question shut her up completely. 「The competition is fierce! Look at these two, tearing their friendship apart just to be the main character’s sidekick.」 The comment floated by, and I smiled. Thanks to these messages, I finally understood everything. I was living in a book, and Mila was supposed to be the designated sidekick. By becoming Sera’s gofer in college, she was meant to win her trust and launch herself into a life of luxury. And me? I was just a stepping stone for Mila, a bit of comic relief for the story. The punchline, of course, was my name. Damn you, author. How could you come up with a name like Jenny Smelton? In the original story, I missed this opportunity. Mila abandoned me, then spent the rest of college isolating and bullying me, making my life a living hell. After graduation, I had the misfortune of marrying an abusive man and wasting my life away. Mila, with her high-powered executive husband, would even visit our hometown just to humiliate me. Finally, at forty, I gave up and jumped from a building. Seeing that ending scared me half to death. Now that I knew what was supposed to happen, I had to seize this chance. And I already had a head start. Mila stormed off, her jaw clenched in anger. Our friendship was officially over. After I finished my meal, I went back to the dorm. Sera was out. I looked at her bed—a chaotic landscape of rumpled sheets and misplaced belongings—and without a second thought, I started tidying up. When Sera returned, her eyes landed on her now neat and pristine bed, and a smile spread across her face. “You did this?” I smiled shyly. “You gave me so much money earlier, my lady. I felt bad not doing more, so…” Sera nodded. “Alright. Then let’s make it a semester-long gig. How does ten thousand for the semester sound?” My heart hammered against my ribs. I nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, that sounds… that sounds amazing.” Sera was decisive. To her, money was just a number. 【You have received $10,000 from Seraphina Sinclair.】 Just then, Mila walked in, her face instantly turning dark with envy when she saw the transaction notification on my phone. “Jenny Smelton, we’re all roommates here. Why do you have to be so greedy? If you really considered Seraphina a friend, you’d help her out of kindness, not put a price tag on it. You’re ruining the atmosphere in this dorm!” She quickly found an angle, trying to paint me as the villain. I was stunned she could twist it like that, turning it into a moral failing. My face flushed with embarrassment. Seeing my reaction, she pressed her advantage, turning to Sera. “Sera, we’re all classmates. If you need anything in the future, just ask. I, Mila Jones, will help you, no questions asked. And I won’t take a single penny.” She delivered the lines with such self-righteous grandeur that, next to her, I looked like a petty, money-grubbing troll. I had no choice. I turned to Sera. “My lady, she’s right. I… I should give you the money back. From now on, whatever you need, just tell me. I’ll do it.” The words tasted like ash in my mouth. My heart ached. This was ten thousand dollars. The first two hundred was one thing, enough to make my college life a little easier. But ten grand was different. My family was so poor; that money could change everything for them. To my surprise, Sera just waved a dismissive hand, a frown on her face. “I never take back money I’ve given away. And the last thing I want is to owe someone a favor. Don’t bring this up again. It’s settled.” Without another word, she picked up her tablet, started up The Crown, and completely ignored us. Mila froze. For the second time, Sera’s reaction had completely blindsided her. All she could do was shoot me a venomous look before storming out of the room. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. I couldn’t let Mila ruin this for me. The months flew by. I became Sera’s shadow. I sat in on her classes, ran her errands, cleaned her space, and eventually, she even entrusted me with her laundry. Luckily, I’d been doing chores at home my whole life, so I was efficient and thorough, which kept Sera very happy. In just a few months, my savings account had swelled to over fifteen thousand dollars. Chloe was a character. Used to a lavish lifestyle, she’d occasionally burn through her allowance and come to Sera, cheekily asking for “a job” to earn some cash. Sera would always oblige, making up some simple task and paying her generously, which always delighted Chloe. Mila watched, green with envy, and tried to do the same. But Sera wouldn’t even give her the time of day, ignoring her completely, which infuriated Mila to no end. “Did you say something bad about me to Seraphina?” she demanded, cornering me one day. I just rolled my eyes. “Honestly, no. Believe what you want. Besides, I thought you were too proud to stoop for money?” Sera never said it out loud, but it was obvious she didn’t like Mila. Mila was just too clueless to see it. “Hmph, you won’t even admit it. Just you wait. After everything I did for you, the second you get a taste of money, you turn your back on me. You’re nothing but an ungrateful snake,” Mila spat, her words dripping with venom. I was done being her punching bag. I dropped the pretense. “We’re adults, Mila. Let’s stop with the drama. Our entire ‘friendship’ was something I paid for. Do you have any idea how many meals I skipped to lend you money?” Mila’s face cycled through shades of red and white. She knew it was true. She’d never paid back a single cent she’d “borrowed” from me over the years. “Fine. Fine! We’ll see about that,” she seethed, then stormed away. Watching her go, I felt a surge of satisfaction. And then, a new comment appeared, and the blood in my veins turned to ice. 【Jenny’s in deep trouble. Mila has a vicious plan to frame her. Sera will definitely kick her out. The power of the plot is too strong; things are snapping back to the original storyline.】 I read on, my heart pounding. When I saw the details of her plan, a cold sweat broke out across my body. Mila Jones, after this, it’s war. A few hours later, I rushed off campus and bought a micro-camera. After getting permission from both Sera and Chloe, I installed it in our room. Only then could I finally breathe again. Three days later, a shriek echoed through the dorm. “Has anyone seen my Tiffany bracelet?” Sera, who was usually so composed, was in a state of panic. It was written all over her face. Chloe chuckled. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a few grand, right? Nothing for you, my lady.” “It was the last gift my mother gave me before she passed away,” Sera said, her voice trembling as she frantically searched. “I’ll die if I lose it.” “Oh, God. Okay, I’ll help you look,” Chloe said, her playful tone gone. Mila and I joined the search. We turned the entire dorm room upside down, but the bracelet was nowhere to be found. “Jenny,” Mila finally said, her voice sharp as she turned the spotlight on me. “You’re the one who usually tidies up Sera’s things. You didn’t happen to see it, did you?” I feigned panic. “No, I haven’t seen it at all!” A sly smile played on Mila’s lips. “Well, it looks like we have a little rat in our dorm.” The implication was crystal clear. At that moment, the only places left to search were our three beds. As she spoke, both Sera and Chloe glanced at me, no doubt remembering the camera I’d installed three days ago. For some reason, the panic on Sera’s face seemed to melt away. Chloe’s mouth twitched into a smirk. “Well then, let’s start with my bed.” After a thorough search, they found nothing. Mila’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s do mine next! I have nothing to hide.” Sera smiled languidly. “Alright.” Of course, they didn’t find it there either. Mila grabbed my arm. “Jenny Smelton, are you going to give it back yourself, or do we have to find it? Sera has been so kind and generous to you. I can’t believe you’re the one who stole from her.” I cast a pitiful look at Sera, who, along with Chloe, gave me a subtle, encouraging smile. I took out my phone and opened the live camera feed. The sight of my phone seemed to trigger a wave of dread in Mila. But she was in too deep to back down now. “What are you doing, Jenny? Hand it over! If you don’t, I’m calling the police. It’s a disgrace to share a room with a thief like you!” I ignored her completely and held my phone out for Sera. “My lady, perhaps you should see this.” An image appeared on the screen. Mila couldn’t resist leaning in for a look. The next second, all the color drained from her face.

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I am a nine-lived cat spirit, consort to the Celestial Realm’s God of War. Three years after my death, he finally remembered me. He descended to the mortal realm, seeking to tear another tail from me to save his childhood love. The little girl I once saved was now an old woman, her hair as white as snow. She told the God of War that I was already dead. He scoffed. “If my memory serves, she has two lives left. If you’re going to lie to me, at least make it a good one.” “Tell her this,” he commanded, his voice cold as ice. “Save Lyra, and she may remain my consort.” Suddenly, his eyes fell on the boy hiding behind the old woman, a boy with my striking resemblance. His expression hardened. “Well, well. Only ten years in the mortal realm, and she’s already managed to have a child. Since she refuses to show herself, then she can’t blame me for starting with the boy.” 1 A torrential rain lashed down from the heavens. Kaelus, the God of War, stood untouched by the downpour, clad in immaculate white robes. Not a single drop marred his perfect form. With a cruel yank, he ripped my son from behind Agnes’s frail frame. A mocking sneer twisted his lips. “Hah. The resemblance is uncanny. Elara has done well for herself, hasn’t she? Ten years of exile, and she even found time to have a child.” His voice dripped with venom. “When I find whatever bastard sired him, I will tear him limb from limb!” He extended a finger, tracing a line across my son Leo’s arm. A raw, bleeding gash split the skin. Leo let out a piercing wail. As he cried, the wound on his arm slowly began to heal itself. “He is Elara’s son, no doubt,” Kaelus declared. “If she will not crawl out to face me, then I have no choice but to take her son’s tail instead!” Agnes’s hands trembled as she dropped her cane, falling to her knees with a thud before Kaelus. The cold rain soaked her white hair, plastering it to her wrinkled face. “Lord Kaelus, Elara… Elara is already dead! How can you expect her to come out and meet you?!” Kaelus’s brow furrowed in annoyance. “Dead? Don’t be absurd. She has two lives left! Don’t play these childish games with me. She heard Lyra was injured and now she refuses to help, is that it? It’s just one tail. It’s not as if I’m asking for her life!” I floated in the air above them, a dull ache still throbbing in the place where my heart used to be. Strange. I’d been dead for three years; how could I still feel pain? My heart ached for Agnes, and it broke for my little Leo. Agnes crawled forward on her knees, wrapping her arms around Leo. “My lord, I’m not lying to you. Elara passed away three years ago.” Kaelus’s laugh was a cold, sharp thing. “You refuse my generosity, so you’ll taste my wrath.” He seized Leo, lifting him into the air with an invisible force. He bellowed towards the small cottage. “Elara! I am giving you one last chance. If you do not crawl out here this instant, I will take it out on your son. A nine-lived cat spirit is a nine-lived cat spirit. It makes no difference to me whose tail I take!” Suspended in the air, Leo coughed and sputtered as the rain choked him, his small hands flailing wildly. “You’re a bad man! A monster!” Agnes, prone in the mud, clutched at Kaelus’s pristine boots. “My lord, I’m begging you. He is just a child. Please, spare him.” With a casual flick of his wrist, Kaelus sent Leo crashing to the ground. He coughed up a mouthful of blood. “I will give Elara one day,” Kaelus announced, his voice echoing in the storm. “If she does not show herself by tomorrow, she can’t blame me for being merciless. And as for the bastard she bore with her mortal lover, he will be punished alongside her!” He turned, his robes swirling around him, and vanished. Agnes and Leo clung to each other, their sobs lost in the sound of the rain. “Auntie Agnes,” Leo whimpered, “who… who was that? He was so scary.” A shadow passed over Agnes’s eyes. “He is no one, my dear. No one important at all.” 2 I clenched my fists, a bitter sorrow welling up inside me. Kaelus, how could you not even recognize your own son? Her mortal lover? The thought was so absurd it was almost laughable. But then, he had never truly cared for me. How could he possibly know Leo was his child? And even if he did, he would likely just transfer all his hatred for me onto our son. Agnes helped Leo back into the cottage and immediately began to pack. “Leo, we have to leave. We can’t stay here any longer.” A wave of relief washed over me. She remembered my words. Before I died, I had told her that if Kaelus ever came looking for me, she had to run. No matter how far, she had to run. I hovered behind Agnes, whispering an apology she couldn’t hear. I’m so sorry, Agnes. I’ve dragged you into this. She clutched the jade talisman I’d given her, her eyes filled with a deep longing. “Elara, you gave me my life. Don’t worry. I will protect Leo, no matter the cost.” Looking at her face, softened by the flickering lamplight, it was as if I was back fifty years ago, seeing that little girl who had fallen from a cliff while trying to gather herbs for her sick mother. I had been passing by and saved her, healing her mother as well. Such a simple act, and yet she remembered it her entire life. She always said she could never repay my kindness. Ten years ago, when Kaelus cast me out of the Celestial Realm and my enemies hunted me, it was Agnes who took me in. We had been on the run ever since. I thought Kaelus had finally forgotten me, but it seemed even in death, I could find no peace. Agnes quickly finished packing, and under the cover of darkness, they slipped out of the cottage. She glanced back one last time at the home we’d shared for a decade, sighed, and then turned away without hesitation, leading Leo into the night. The talisman I gave her would grant them passage into a hidden cave within my tomb. It held the last vestiges of my spirit energy, enough to shield them from Kaelus’s detection. But it would only last for a week. That would be enough. Kaelus would never spend more than three days searching for me. They hadn’t gone far when he appeared before them. He stood like a statue in their path, an immense pressure radiating from him, forcing Agnes and Leo to their knees, blood trickling from their lips. I flew at Kaelus, beating against him with my spectral fists. “You bastard, Kaelus! Is this how you treat an innocent old woman and a child?! And you call yourself the God of War, protector of all realms!” But he couldn’t feel my blows or hear my screams. I was filled with despair. I knew that for his precious Lyra, he was capable of anything. He looked down at them, his voice laced with contempt. “And where do you two think you’re going?” Agnes struggled to speak. “I… I was just going to buy Leo something to eat.” “Oh? And you need to pack all your belongings to go shopping? Do you take me for a fool? You were trying to run!” His voice cracked like a whip. “I already gave you a chance!” Suddenly, a surge of strength filled Leo. Claws sprang from his fingertips as he lunged at Kaelus. “You monster! Don’t you hurt Auntie Agnes! I’ll bite you! I’ll kill you!” My spirit heart leaped into my throat. “Leo, no!” I screamed into the void. An enraged Kaelus would surely kill him! Even if Leo was his own son. He wouldn’t care. Not if he came from me. Kaelus, caught off guard by the sudden attack, hissed as Leo’s claws tore a deep gash in his arm. His eyes turned to ice. He seized Leo by the throat, lifting him effortlessly. “You’re just like your mother. Pathetic and defiant.” Leo glared at him, spitting out the words. “My mother was the best person in the world! You’re not allowed to talk about her!” Tears streamed down Agnes’s face as she slammed her forehead against the rocky ground, again and again, until it was a bloody mess. I spun in the air, frantic with rage. Kaelus, you animal! A white-hot hatred consumed me. Kaelus, I am truly beginning to hate you. 3 “My lord, please,” Agnes sobbed. “Let Leo go. I’ve already told you, Elara died three years ago.” Kaelus’s grip tightened. “Is that so? Well, if she’s dead, then her son’s tail will have to do! I refuse to believe she would stand by and watch her own child be mutilated!” Leo’s face was turning a deep shade of purple. Agnes’s lips trembled as she forced out the words. “My lord… Leo… Leo is your son.” My head snapped towards Agnes. How… how did she know? I had never told her the truth about Leo’s father. She had never asked. Perhaps it was the slight resemblance in his features. Kaelus raised an eyebrow. “You’ll say anything to save Lyra, won’t you?” He clearly didn’t believe her. A ball of fire materialized in his right hand, and he pressed it against Leo’s arm. Leo screamed in agony as the Celestial Flame seared his flesh, leaving his small arm a mess of charred tissue. The wound showed no signs of healing. The blood of Kaelus was a divine fire. A cat spirit’s powerful regenerative abilities were useless against it. The wound would only begin to heal once the last embers of the flame had died out. Twenty years ago, Lyra had framed me. In his rage, Kaelus had burned me with his Celestial Flame for an hour. My entire body was a wreck of festering wounds. It took me five years to fully recover. Leo was not even ten years old. How could he possibly withstand such a thing? Kaelus sneered. “He can’t even withstand my Celestial Flame, and you dare claim he is my son? It seems ten years of suffering in the mortal realm haven’t changed Elara’s vicious nature one bit!” Leo was too young. The God of War’s bloodline had not yet awakened within him. Kaelus, you truly are a monster! He shouted into the darkness around them. “Elara, I’ve changed my mind! This is your final chance. If you do not show yourself, I will not only take your son’s tail, I will burn him with my Celestial Flame for three days and three nights!” In a panic, Agnes rushed forward to shield Leo. But she was only a mortal. The moment she touched the divine fire, her entire hand disintegrated into ash. Her bloodcurdling scream echoed through the forest. I was consumed by a blinding rage. I wanted to kill Kaelus. Kaelus, Kaelus, I hate you. I hate that I ever met you, and I hate myself for ever loving you! Kaelus extinguished the flame, but Agnes’s arm was gone. Leo, fighting through his own pain, crawled to her side. He bit into his own wrist and let his blood drip onto her wound, staunching the flow. He turned to Kaelus, his voice raw with grief. “You monster! Who are you? My mother is gone! Why do you hate her so much?! My mother is dead! I am her son! If you want revenge, take it out on me! I don’t know what she did to you, but I’m begging you, please, don’t hurt Auntie Agnes!” Kaelus flinched at his words. His lips moved, but he said nothing. He probably couldn’t bring himself to admit that I, a “vicious” cat spirit, was the consort of the great God of War. He had always seen me as a source of shame. Agnes’s face was ashen. After a long moment, she managed to catch her breath. Using her one remaining hand, she propped herself up with her cane. The fear in her eyes was gone, replaced by a chilling mockery. She looked at Kaelus and smiled. “Lord Kaelus, you wanted to see Elara, didn’t you? Then follow me.” Kaelus, completely oblivious to the change in her demeanor, assumed his Celestial Flame had finally broken them. A triumphant smirk played on his lips. “If you had just led me to her in the first place, you could have avoided all this suffering.” Agnes walked ahead, laughing softly to herself. “Elara, Elara,” she murmured, “is this the man you once loved so deeply? It was never worth it.” I’m sorry, Agnes. I’m so sorry. I wished I could go back to the day I first met Kaelus, a hundred years ago. I would have turned and walked away without a second thought. I would have never allowed our paths to cross. Never. 4 Soon, we arrived at my tomb. It was a simple grave, set into the face of a cliff. Agnes took out the jade talisman I had given her. A gentle squeeze would shatter it and open the cliff face. The moment Kaelus saw the talisman, his expression faltered. It was our betrothal gift. He snatched it from her, staring at it for a long moment before speaking, his voice laced with a strange anger. “She never took this off. So, she finds a new lover, and even her most precious tokens become meaningless.” Agnes’s eyes were filled with scorn. She snatched the talisman back and squeezed, but her strength failed her. Frustrated, she threw it to the ground, where it shattered into a thousand pieces. “How dare you!” Kaelus roared, grabbing her by the collar. “You wanted to see Elara,” Agnes said, her voice flat as she gestured to the opening in the cliff. “She’s in there.” Kaelus snorted, then dragged Leo into the cave. But it was utterly empty. There was nothing inside. He had been tricked. A powerful malevolence radiated from him, and the temperature inside the cave plummeted. Agnes leaned against the wall, shivering violently. I rushed to embrace her, but my arms passed right through. A mortal would freeze to death in this cold, especially one of her age! But Agnes seemed oblivious to the cold. She caressed the stone wall with a tender familiarity. “Elara. It’s been a long time.” It has. My physical form had become the mountain itself. With a flick of his wrist, Kaelus transformed Leo into a tiny kitten, mewling in his grasp. “Fine. You’re all as defiant as she is. You think my patience is endless? Then I will offer the son she had with her lover as a sacrifice!” He raised his hand to tear away Leo’s single tail. “Hah. One tail? You lie just like your mother. You wretched little thing.” I shrieked, throwing myself at Kaelus. I knew he couldn’t hear me, but I screamed and begged him to spare Leo. I was a nine-lived cat. Giving birth to Leo had left me on the brink of death. He was just an ordinary cat spirit. He only had one life. Kaelus, are you really going to murder your own child?! Just then, a series of weak coughs echoed from the cave entrance. Lyra, Kaelus’s childhood love, was being helped inside by a servant. Her face was pale, and a trickle of blood stained the corner of her lips. “Kaelus, my love,” she whispered, “if Lady Elara is unwilling, then let it be. My life is not worth this trouble.” She shivered, rubbing her arms. Kaelus immediately rushed to her side, wrapping her in a protective embrace. The chilling aura around him dissipated, and the cave slowly began to warm. I breathed a sigh of relief as Agnes’s breathing evened out. “Don’t be afraid, Lyra,” Kaelus soothed. “If that woman refuses, we still have the son she bore with her mortal lover. I won’t let you die. After what she did to you, this is what she deserves.” A fleeting, triumphant smile flashed across Lyra’s face as she buried her head in his chest. Agnes, having regained some of her strength, began to laugh, a hollow, broken sound. “Kaelus, if you dare touch Leo, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I promise you that.” A cold smile touched Kaelus’s lips. “Is that so? I’d like to see you make me.” As he spoke, a golden light emanated from his hand. Leo’s tail was in his grasp. And then, Kaelus froze. A brilliant flame, the Celestial Flame exclusive to the God of War’s bloodline, erupted from Leo’s small body.

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1 I was the tragic first love, the one who died taking a knife for the male lead. Ten years after my death, a System forcibly resurrected me and told me I had to be a stepmom. 「Host, your mission is to save the child on that rooftop.」 「He is your husband’s son. If you don’t intervene, he will die today.」 I didn’t want to watch someone die, but I’ve been spoiled and headstrong my whole life. So, I strode over in my stilettos and gave him a light nudge with my foot. “You’re just as pathetic as your father. What’s with all this melodrama?” “Where is your dad, anyway? Get him on the phone. Tell him to come pick me up.” … The kid just stared at me, then looked around as if I were a ghost that had materialized in broad daylight. In the end, he didn’t ask anything, just lowered his head again. I couldn’t stand his defeated posture. I ran a hand through my hair in frustration and snatched his phone. “You know your dad’s number?” The call log and notifications were completely empty. Not even a single spam text. He fumbled for a moment before slowly typing in a number. The phone barely rang once before the call was disconnected, leaving a series of hollow beeps. I frowned. “The nerve of that Patrick Shaw. He’s really gotten bold, ignoring calls now.” The kid, however, showed no reaction. He just stood beside me in silence, a perfect little statue. After eight consecutive calls, someone finally answered. A woman’s voice. “This is Patrick Shaw’s office. He’s busy.” And then she hung up, not even giving me a chance to curse her out. I was so angry I wanted to smash the phone, but the kid tugged on my sleeve. I forced myself to calm down. “It’s fine, sweetie. I’ll take you to find Patrick and we’ll settle this.” The kid just kept holding my sleeve, looking dazed. After a long pause, he managed to choke out a few words. “Don’t want to be a bother.” Those words completely deflated my anger. I sighed in resignation. “Then let’s go back?” Once we were in the car, I studied him for a while. “Your name is Sam?” “Mhm.” I asked the System again. “Is he really Patrick Shaw’s son?” 「According to the rules of your human world, yes.」 I accepted my fate and started trying to be a decent stepmom, making conversation with Sam. I asked him what he liked to eat. He said anything was fine. I asked him what he liked to play. He didn’t answer. I asked him why he was on the rooftop. He turned away from me. I finally lost my patience, pulled him into my lap, and asked if Patrick knew he was playing “let’s jump off the roof.” Only then did he slowly lift his head like a little robot and say, enunciating each word carefully, “Dad’s busy. Don’t want to be a bother.” I felt a lump of frustration rise in my throat. Was “don’t want to be a bother” the only phrase he knew? How on earth had Patrick raised his son to be like this? The System quietly tried to comfort me. 「Host, don’t be so harsh. The child is just too considerate. He keeps everything bottled up inside.」 Of course, I knew that. He was just a little boy. This was clearly the fault of the adults in his life. The car pulled up to a familiar house. A crucial question suddenly occurred to me. “System, where’s his mother?” 「There isn’t one.」 Isn’t one? The moment I stepped through the front door, I felt a sense of disorientation, as if I had just gone out for a walk instead of being gone for ten years. The coat I had carelessly hung in the entryway was still there, perfectly preserved without a single wrinkle. There was no sign of another woman’s presence in the entire house, except for a green hairpin on the console table. I went upstairs, my feet finding their way easily, and opened the door to my old room. It was exactly as I had left it. When I came back downstairs, Sam was gone. I searched everywhere and finally found him in a corner of the living room. He had unearthed a calculus workbook thicker than a brick and was methodically working through the problems. He was so well-behaved it was terrifying. “Is he always like this?” I asked the System. 「Mhm. For the son of Patrick Shaw, not being exceptional is also a form of being a bother.」 I immediately marched over, snatched the workbook, and tossed it in the trash. Sam stared at me, then his brow furrowed. His head tilted slightly, like a little robot with a short circuit. I stared back at him, a silent battle of wills. Ten minutes later, I rubbed my tired eyes and admitted defeat. “I’m hungry.” The little robot successfully processed the command. He scurried to the kitchen and expertly turned on the gas stove. “Don’t touch that! It’s dangerous!” My heart nearly leaped out of my chest. I rushed over and shut off the valve. He cowered in the corner like a startled kitten, his face a mask of confusion. I was about to lose my mind. I looked around the kitchen and couldn’t help but ask the System, “How old is he?” 「Six.」 Fantastic. A six-year-old cooking on a gas stove. Patrick Shaw has to be out of his mind. I paced back and forth, hands on my hips, trying to rein in my temper. Finally, I turned to Sam. “That’s too dangerous. I’ll take you out to eat.” “System, get your virtual butt out here and tell me what the hell has been going on for the past ten years.” The System glitched for a second before starting its report. After my death, Patrick had thrown himself into his work, becoming a relentless workaholic. He neglected his own health and well-being, so it was no surprise that he had no capacity to care for Sam. For years, he had hired nannies to look after the boy. But with no other adults around, the nannies would often secretly abuse Sam. It was only when the bruises became too numerous to hide that the abuse was discovered. Patrick fired the nanny, and for the first time, Sam made a request. “I can take care of myself. I don’t need a nanny.” “I won’t be a bother.” From that day on, Sam lived alone. Patrick’s assistant, a woman named Olivia, would check in on him every couple of days. “Who’s Olivia?” 「Patrick’s new assistant, hired after you died.」 It seemed a lot had happened in Patrick’s world during my ten-year absence. Ignoring my internal monologue, the System continued. 「Olivia has a reputation for being well-liked at the company, which is why Patrick trusted her with Sam. But Sam never liked her. In fact, he showed a clear aversion to her.」 “Why?” For a child as emotionless as Sam, a clear aversion was significant. 「Because Olivia tried to manipulate him. She told him to tell Patrick, ‘I want Olivia to be my mom.’」 「But Sam refused. So, from then on, Olivia targeted him in subtle ways.」 “Like what?” Adult malice might not be as direct as a child’s, but for a vulnerable boy like Sam, it was surely devastating. 「As you’ve seen, Sam is very withdrawn.」 「So, she told Patrick that Sam was slow and a liar. Then she’d turn around and tell Sam that Patrick saw him as a burden and wished he wouldn’t cause any more trouble.」 「She told him that a bastard of unknown origin like him was unworthy of love, and that once she married Patrick, his days as a burden would be over.」 My nails dug into my palms. I let out a cold laugh. “A burden, huh?” 「What are you planning to do?」 the System asked meekly. “Help Patrick get his eyes checked. If he’s not going to use them, he might as well donate them. And as for that Olivia, bullying a child like that… I’m going to make her life a living hell.” As if on cue, Olivia arrived. A haughty voice echoed from the doorway. “You brat! This water is scalding! Are you trying to kill me? And who gave you permission to bring a strange woman into this house?” “Do you think this is a shelter? Isn’t it enough that I have to deal with you, you little piece of trash? Now you’re bringing in a big one?” “Tell her to get out.” Sam, who had never once stood up to her, moved. He stood in front of Olivia, blocking her path. “No.” Olivia gritted her teeth in fury. “Sam, do you have any idea what you’re doing? Do you want me to call your father right now and have him throw you out on the street? Move, you little bastard.” Sam just stood there, his head bowed, not moving, not responding. My heart felt like it was being pricked by a thousand needles. I walked up to Olivia. “You seem to love trash talk so much. How come you haven’t been recycled yet?” Before she could say another word, my hand connected with her face. “You hit me?” “You’re damn right I did.” I pulled Sam behind me, shielding him. Olivia clutched her cheek, her eyes raking over me with disdain. “Do you have any idea who I am? I’m Patrick Shaw’s most trusted assistant. The woman who has been by his side the longest. So you’ve won over this little bastard. So what? I’m the one who’s going to be with Patrick. And when that happens, I’ll have you both thrown out.” Then, she turned her threats on Sam. “Mr. Shaw specifically ordered that woman’s room to be locked up. No one has been allowed in for ten years. And you let a complete stranger in. Just think about the consequences. If I tell him about this, you’re finished. So…” Slap. Another one. “Still barking?” Olivia clutched both of her now-reddened cheeks, staring at me in disbelief. “You hit me again?” “Do I need an appointment?” She lunged at me, but Sam immediately stepped in front of me, a small, unwavering shield. Olivia hissed, “Fine. Fine. Fine,” and pulled out her phone, dialing Patrick. “Mr. Shaw, I just got here and Sam has brought a strange woman into the house. He even let her into… into your late wife’s room… And they hit me…” I snorted. “The guilty one is always the first to complain.” “Wait!” Patrick’s voice suddenly came through the phone, filled with a mixture of shock and a tremor of hope. “Turn on the video. Let me see her face.” Olivia looked confused, but she obeyed, pointing the camera at me.

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My husband prided himself on being a modern, enlightened man. When his mother had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital, I called him, frantic. He replied casually, “Mom’s in the hospital. It’s serious. You should come now.” In the background, I could hear him laughing with his childhood friend Michelle. “Michelle’s on her period and needs me here,” he said. “Tell you what—I’ll bite this chocolate. If the filling is yellow, I’ll come. If it’s pink, I stay with Michelle.” A pause. “Pink. Guess I’m staying. And don’t worry too much about your mom—everyone has their fate.” In my past life, I begged and borrowed to save his mother. But when I lay dying in childbirth, my husband showed me a pink-filled chocolate and shrugged. His mother turned away, silent. After I died, I watched him hold Michelle, smug. “What an idiot,” he said. “I bought that special chocolate—all pink. If not for the apartment in her name, I wouldn’t have wasted time on her. Only you, Michelle, should carry my child.” Now, staring at his box of “decision-making” chocolates, I smiled coldly. You love making choices, don’t you, dear husband? This time, I’ll make sure you have plenty to choose from. 1 “Mia, I have to run out for a bit. You’re on your own for dinner.” I sat at the table, my mind still reeling, but the words tumbled out of my mouth on instinct. “Where are you going so late? It’s my birthday.” Mark didn’t even pause as he walked to the entryway. He grabbed his coat, his voice laced with impatience. “Michelle just called. She had a nightmare. She’s over there crying her eyes out. Am I supposed to just leave her alone?” “Mia, can you be a little more understanding? She’s younger than you. What’s the big deal with cutting her some slack?” His words finally snapped me back to reality. I looked at the birthday cake on the table and knew, with a chilling certainty, that I had been reborn. Reborn to the day my tragedy began. My birthday. Last time, he’d used those exact words to shut me up, to make me question if I was being too jealous, too petty, for getting upset over a girl a few years younger than me. Back then, desperate to keep our marriage afloat, I had said nothing. I had let him go to Michelle on my birthday. And when Mark came back the next day, he brought a gift and an apology, looking so genuinely sorry. “Honey, I was just so worried yesterday. Michelle and I grew up together. She’s like my little sister. Taking care of her is just a habit. You know if I had any feelings for her beyond that, I never would have pursued you so relentlessly.” I had believed him. I’d even bought Michelle a gift to make up for my hostility. But this time, I was done being the fool. As he was about to leave, I slammed my hand on the table and stood up, my voice cold. “Michelle’s so young? She’s twenty-five, Mark. Does she not have parents to comfort her? Does it have to be someone else’s husband?” “If you’re so in love with her, let’s just get a divorce right now. Then you two won’t have to sneak around anymore.” Mark’s face went rigid. He turned, his eyes darting around nervously. “Honey, what are you talking about? You’re the only one I love. There’s nothing romantic between Michelle and me. I only see her as a sister. Please don’t be jealous. I’m just worried something might happen to her.” He walked over, put his arm around my shoulder, and picked up the box of chocolates from the table, his tone a mixture of indulgence and exasperation. “Alright, let’s let the chocolate decide. If the filling is yellow, I’ll stay and celebrate your birthday with you. If it’s pink, I’ll go check on Michelle.” He popped a chocolate into his mouth, and of course, the filling was pink. He looked at the chocolate in his hand, his face showing no surprise or disappointment. “See, honey? The chocolate has decided. There’s nothing I can do. Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. We’ll celebrate your birthday again.” Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, he was out the door, without a moment’s hesitation. I watched it all unfold with a blank expression. I already knew this would be the outcome. I had no intention of stopping him. Remembering what I had seen after my death, I scanned the room, my eyes landing on the numerous chocolate boxes scattered around our home. I picked up the box Mark had just put down, dumped out the contents, and bit into them, one by one. One, two, three… A laugh escaped my lips. Mark. He really had played me for a fool my entire life. We were colleagues. Shortly after I joined the company, he claimed it was love at first sight and began to pursue me relentlessly. He was thoughtful in every way, bringing me breakfast and dinner, walking me home, even helping me build relationships with my coworkers. When I collapsed at home from a stomach bug, he was the first one to find me, breaking down the door and calling an ambulance. After my parents’ divorce, I hadn’t experienced that kind of care in a long time. I was moved, and I accepted his proposal. At our wedding, he emotionally vowed to cherish me, to care for me, and to never betray me. I thought we would be happy forever, the picture-perfect couple. But after we were married, for some reason, he developed this habit of letting a chocolate make his difficult decisions. The problem was, his “difficult decisions” always involved Michelle. And the chocolate, time and time again, always chose Michelle. For the sake of our relationship, I conceded, again and again. But he only became more brazen. He even said “everyone has their own fate” about his own mother when she was critically ill, because he’d mistaken her for mine. I had planned to have a serious talk with him after his mother recovered. But then I found out I was pregnant. He was ecstatic. “Honey, we’re having a baby! I’ll be even better to you and the baby from now on. I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world!” His mother held my hand, tears in her eyes. “My dear, you saved my life, and now you’re giving our family an heir. You are our greatest treasure. From now on, you are my own daughter.” I was so happy. I thought he had truly changed, and I let the past go. But when I was on the operating table, fighting for my life, I heard his cold voice from outside the door. “The chocolate is pink. Let’s just stop the resuscitation.”

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This weekend, my husband and I were invited to a charity auction. During the bidding, his secretary and I both set our sights on the same oil painting. I was ready for a fair contest, but right in front of me, my husband placed an unlimited bid for his secretary. “Cecily,” she sneered, “you’re nothing but a pet my husband keeps. What right do you have to compete with me?” Just as the other bidders began to drop out, I caught the auctioneer’s eye and snapped my fingers. “Whatever Mr. House is bidding,” I announced, my voice cutting through the silence, “I’ll bid one dollar more.” 01 The moment the words left my lips, every head in the grand ballroom turned to face me. A beat of stunned silence, and then, the room erupted in laughter. “Is this woman insane? Fighting her own husband over a painting? Does she have money to burn?” “She’s more than insane; she’s an idiot. A piece of arm candy daring to challenge Victor House in public. She doesn’t know her place.” “I heard before I came that House picked up a trophy wife a few years ago and just keeps her locked away at home. I guess we’re finally seeing her in the flesh.” As the whispers grew louder, the color drained from my husband Victor’s face, replaced by a deep, blotchy red. He shot up from his chair, his finger pointed accusingly at me. “Cecily, put your hand down this instant! Do you hear me?” he seethed. “You’re spending my money, the House family’s money! How dare you bid against me?” I leaned back in my chair, my posture relaxed, and met his furious gaze with a cool, steady one. “Victor, I am still your wife. You might want to show a little respect.” My eyes narrowed. “And I’m going after something I want. Why should I back down for someone else?” My gaze flickered with a sudden, sharp intensity. “Besides, I’ve never spent a single cent of your family’s money. Don’t you dare suggest otherwise.” His face went from red to purple. “Cecily! Have I not told you? In public, you will address me as Mr. House.” He spat the words out. “You’re nothing but a dog the House family took in. You and I have nothing in common!” I let out a soft sigh, my eyes locked on his. “Mr. House, are you really going to do this? Are you really going to fight me over a painting for your little secretary?” To be honest, I knew something was wrong the moment we arrived. By all rights, as Victor’s wife, I should have been seated at his side. Instead, I was tucked away at a table in the furthest, darkest corner of the room. I could have tolerated that. After all, old Mr. House, his father, had always been kind to me, often inviting me for a game of chess. A good woman should know how to indulge her husband’s foolish pride. But I never imagined that my seat, the one that rightfully belonged to me, would be occupied by Victor’s secretary, Jessica. A fresh college graduate whose only remarkable quality was her youth. And yet, here was my idiotic husband, ready to go to war for her. A hot flame of fury licked up my spine. But the so-called “rising star of the business world” was oblivious, his tirade continuing unabated. “Who the hell do you think you are, Cecily? I don’t need you telling me how to run my life,” he snarled. “For all these years, you’ve eaten our food, lived in our house. What do you possibly have that gives you the right to challenge me?” His voice rose to a crescendo. “You know what? I don’t care who knows. I’m buying this painting for Jessica, and that’s final!” Before I could even react, the secretary herself decided to chime in. She shot me a look dripping with provocation. “Miss Cecily, a word of advice? You should just drop it.” “If you make Mr. House unhappy,” she continued, a sly smile spreading across her face, “your life could get very… difficult.” She let out a little laugh. “A trophy wife should look the part, don’t you think? Am I right, Miss Cecily?” Jessica’s words sent another wave of laughter through the crowd. Even the auctioneer on stage was struggling to suppress a smirk. I, however, simply waved a dismissive hand and let out a cold chuckle. “So, what you’re saying, Miss Jessica, is that you’re prepared to go head-to-head with me today?” She smirked, her eyes filled with contempt. “Miss Cecily, let’s be realistic. You’re a housewife. You don’t even have a job. How could you possibly compete with me? Mr. House just made an unlimited bid. It’s an open checkbook. Do you have that kind of money to follow?” I slowly lifted my chin, a faint smile playing on my lips. “You’re wrong, Jessica. You and I are nothing alike.” “I don’t need a man to buy my things.” My statement was met with a fresh round of scorn. “Oh, please. This girl is all talk. She probably couldn’t have even gotten through the door without Mr. House.” “Exactly. The only reason she’s even in this room is because she married into the House family.” “Who would give her the time of day otherwise? Mr. Auctioneer, can we just get on with it? Let’s not waste any more time on this.” The mocking voices swirled around me, but they didn’t touch me. Because every word I said was the absolute truth. If I weren’t trying to save Victor a sliver of dignity, I would have proudly declared that the entire House Corporation belonged to me. Seeing my silence, the secretary grew bolder. “See? I told you. A woman with no power should just stay at home. Now look at you, completely humiliated.” Before she could finish, I slowly raised my bidding paddle. “Who said I was backing down?” My voice was clear and firm. “It’s just money. And darling, I have plenty of it.” 02 Now, every single eye in the room was fixed on me. Even the auctioneer was frozen, unsure of what to do next. He probably knew I was bluffing, but the rules were the rules; as a professional, he couldn’t bring the gavel down as long as there was an active bidder. Suddenly, Victor’s roar echoed through the ballroom. “Cecily! You’re really determined to make an enemy of me today, aren’t you?” My eyes flickered to the secretary standing possessively beside him. I answered without a shred of hesitation. “Yes.” The word hung in the air for a moment before Victor bellowed again, his voice raw with fury. “Fine! Fine! Let’s see just how deep your pockets are!” He thrust his paddle into the air. “Ten million dollars!” Anyone familiar with auctions knows that an unlimited bid is a point of no return. You either see it through to the end, or you face financial ruin. If Victor was willing to gamble his entire company for a secretary, then I was more than happy to play along. “Ten million… and one dollar.” Heads whipped back in my direction. I could see it in their faces—they were all waiting for the punchline, for me to be exposed as a fraud. No one here knew the truth. No one knew that I was the silent force behind the House Corporation. Years ago, when the House family was on the verge of bankruptcy, their patriarch, Theodore House, had shown up on my family’s doorstep in the dead of night, a marriage contract in hand, begging me to save them. To honor a debt owed by a previous generation, I had gritted my teeth and married Victor. And this man, this ungrateful fool, had never treated me as anything more than an inconvenience. He insulted me daily, and now he dared to publicly humiliate me for another woman. This was an indignity I simply could not swallow. “You bitch! Do you even have that kind of money?” Jessica shrieked, her composure finally cracking as she saw me matching her boss. “This is a high-stakes auction, not a flea market!” She jabbed a finger at me. “Let me warn you, if you can’t produce the funds, you’ll be going to jail!” I glanced up at her and offered a serene smile. “Jessica, you don’t need to worry about my finances. I suggest you worry about your boss. Once you start down this road, there’s no turning back.” My words only fueled Victor’s rage. He raised his paddle again. “You dare lecture my people in front of me, Cecily? You want to follow? Let’s see how much you really have!” “Another ten million! We’re at twenty million!” A collective gasp swept through the room. This was a charity auction, after all. While the items were valuable, they were nowhere near the eight-figure range. And this piece was just a painting by a child, not some old master. “Mr. House, how generous! On behalf of the children in need, I thank you,” I said, clapping slowly as I rose to my feet. “But… since it’s for charity, more is always better, isn’t it?” Then, under the astonished gaze of everyone present, I slowly extended a single finger. “Twenty million… and one dollar.” 03 Not a single person in that room had expected me to challenge Victor so relentlessly. Their expressions were a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. Everyone here was a titan of their industry. Victor himself had only received an invitation because of the House Corporation’s recent resurgence. I could see in his eyes that he was enjoying this, relishing the chance to publicly put me in my place. “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced to the room, “let me be perfectly clear. While this woman is legally my wife, we have no actual relationship. If she fails to produce the funds later, the House Corporation will not be held responsible.” I almost laughed out loud. “Mr. House, I wouldn’t be so quick to cut ties with me,” I said sweetly. “After all, you’re the one who started this little spectacle with an unlimited bid. When you can’t pay up, you might just find yourself begging me to bail you out.” Before he could retort, his secretary stepped forward. “Cecily, are you daydreaming?” she scoffed. “You, a mere housewife, think you can compare to the entire House Corporation? You’re delusional.” I shook my head, my composure unshaken. “It may be hard for you to believe right now, but it’s the truth. If you don’t believe me, by all means, let your Mr. House test that theory.” Jessica raised an eyebrow, a sneer playing on her lips. “Be my guest. A woman who doesn’t even know her own worth, still trying to put on a brave face. How pathetic.” Her words didn’t faze me. “I’m sorry, but we’re not the same. I, Cecily, have never used a man’s money to buy anything.” Her comment sparked another round of murmurs from those who knew of my domestic situation. “Please, anyone can talk big. If she were so powerful, why would she be content as a housewife?” “Exactly. Mr. House is a rising star with a net worth in the hundreds of millions. What is she?” “She’s just a clown trying to get attention. Let’s ignore her.” I slowly got to my feet, my gaze sweeping across the entire room. “Listen to me, all of you,” I said, my voice resonating with a newfound authority. “Right now, it’s not just the House family I look down on. It’s every single one of you in this room.” I might not be a business mogul, but I know a thing or two about character. From the moment I walked in, these so-called titans of industry weren’t discussing charity; they were discussing how best to kiss Victor House’s ass. My declaration instantly made me the target of everyone’s fury. Even the auctioneer had had enough. “Ma’am, we do not welcome people like you at this event.” I tilted my head, looking up at the stage. “Oh? And what kind of person is that? Do tell.” Before he could answer, Jessica rushed the stage and snatched the microphone from his hand. “Cecily, you are a useless nobody!” Her voice boomed through the speakers, filling every corner of the ballroom. The business leaders rose to their feet, applauding in agreement. Even Victor, who had been silent for a while, watched me with a look of malicious glee. Seeing this unfold, it hit me with stunning clarity: my decision to save the House family all those years ago had been the height of foolishness. Noticing my long silence, Jessica assumed I had finally lost my nerve. She raised the microphone again. “Hey, you! Now do you see why Mr. House refuses to even sit with you?” Her voice climbed an octave, filled with triumph. “It’s because… you are not worthy.” 04 I fought back the inferno raging inside me and spoke, my voice dangerously calm. “From the sound of it, you want me to divorce your Mr. House?” Jessica’s lips split into a wide, triumphant grin. “Since you’re so self-aware, I won’t bother pretending anymore.” “That’s right. I believe I am a much better fit to be Mrs. House than you are.” I stared at her, my face a blank mask. “Go on,” I said, each word deliberate. “And?” She shot me a contemptuous glance. “Mr. House wants a divorce!” I froze for a second, then turned my head to look at Victor. “Is what she’s saying true? You really want to divorce me?” Victor arched an eyebrow, his eyes filled with disgust. “Jessica is right. I’ve wanted to divorce you for years. It was only because of my father’s pressure that I put it off. It’s perfect, actually. With all these esteemed business leaders here today, they can all be my witnesses.” He looked me straight in the eye and declared, “I, Victor House, am divorcing you!” I looked back at him, my voice devoid of any emotion. “Are you sure about this?” “Victor, have you really thought this through?” Before the words were even out of my mouth, the man pulled a folded document from his jacket pocket—a divorce agreement. “Cecily, don’t even try to talk me out of it. I have never, not for a single moment, had any feelings for you.” I studied him for a long moment, then let out a heavy sigh. “It looks like you came prepared for this, didn’t you, Mr. House?” He nodded without an ounce of shame. “I did. I’ve wanted to divorce you every single day. I wanted it then, I want it now, and I’ll want it in the future!” At his declaration, Jessica, still on stage, began to applaud wildly. The guests in the room quickly joined in, hooting and cheering. I scanned the crowd, a small, knowing smile touching the corners of my lips. “Well, with an atmosphere like this, it would be rude of me to say no.” “Alright, you win. I agree to the divorce. However…” Hearing that I’d agreed, Victor could barely contain his excitement. He cut me off before I could finish. “Cecily, since you agree, this makes things simple. Name your price. How much money do you want? I’ll do my best to accommodate you.” I waved my hand dismissively, my gaze deep and meaningful. “Not so fast, Mr. House. We can talk about money later. I may have agreed to a divorce, but this auction isn’t over yet.” “My last bid was twenty million and one dollar. Does Mr. House intend to raise?” Knowing Victor and his fragile ego, my challenge to continue the bidding war was the ultimate insult. His face immediately darkened. “Cecily, I’m warning you, don’t push your luck.” I raised an eyebrow at him and gave a careless shrug. “What’s wrong? The great chairman of the House Corporation is getting cold feet at a mere twenty million?” My taunt hit its mark. He exploded. “Fine! We’ll see how long you can keep this act up!” “Thirty million!” “Thirty million… and one dollar.” Victor shot me a death glare and raised his bid again. “Fifty million!” As the price soared, beads of sweat began to form on Victor’s forehead. I let out a cold laugh and spoke in a slow, deliberate tone. “Mr. House, since we’re all here for charity, why don’t we just get straight to the point?” “I bid one hundred million dollars!” The words dropped like a bomb. The entire room erupted. While most of the people here had fortunes exceeding a hundred million, having that net worth and having a hundred million in liquid cash were two very different things. Victor was stunned into silence by my sheer audacity, unable to speak. Just then, Jessica, who had been quiet for a moment, spoke up. “You little bitch, this is an auction, not a numbers game! Anyone can shout ‘one hundred million.’ The question is, can you actually pay it?” Her words were like a lifeline to Victor. A glint of hope appeared in his eyes. “Jessica’s right! Why should I have to follow whatever number you pull out of thin air?” He paused, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “Cecily, don’t say I didn’t warn you. If you can’t produce that hundred million, you will be facing serious legal consequences.” Immediately, Jessica raised the microphone again, turning to the crowd. “Mr. House is right! We demand that she verify her funds right here, right now!” Seeing the predatory gleam in Jessica’s eyes, the corner of my mouth lifted into a smirk. “It took you all night, but you finally asked the right question.”

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“If you could live your life over, would you still marry your wife?” “No.” That was the answer Zeke Crawford, age 47, gave during a media interview. Overnight, it went viral. The marriage I had carefully nurtured for twenty years, the greatest achievement of my life, was shattered into a ridiculous farce by that single word. Trapped and humiliated, I was contemplating my next move when a car crash sent us hurtling back in time, back to the year we first met. I was 24. We were at a formal meeting arranged by our families, a prelude to a merger-masquerading-as-marriage. Suddenly, Zeke stood up, cutting his mother off mid-sentence. “I’m sorry, Miss Astor,” he said, his voice firm, “but I have a girlfriend. We’re done here.” My expression didn’t flicker. As he turned and strode toward the door, I called out to his retreating back. “Then, Mr. Crawford, I suppose this is goodbye for good.” His footsteps faltered for a fraction of a second. He didn’t turn around. He just quickened his pace and walked out of my life. 01 My new morning routine began with yoga in the courtyard, followed by feeding the koi in our pond. After a slow, leisurely breakfast, I finally picked up my phone. As expected, it was flooded with messages. Inquiries, expressions of concern, morbid curiosity, and of course, those who were just here to watch the spectacle unfold. I knew this would happen the moment Zeke’s interview aired last night. It wasn’t surprising. As a titan in the world of high finance, his personal conduct had always been an anomaly. He didn’t smoke or drink, never gambled, and steered clear of scandals. In every public appearance, at every event, the only woman the cameras ever captured by his side was me, his legitimate wife. Over time, the legend of Zeke Crawford and his devoted wife became a celebrated tale in our circle—a story of deep love and perfect harmony. But now, on the cusp of fifty, he had personally confessed to the world that our two decades of marriage were, for him, a source of profound regret. What a regret, indeed. 02 After two days, with neither of the involved parties making a statement, the media frenzy began to die down. But Zeke never offered me a single word of explanation. It seemed my feelings weren’t a factor in his considerations. For a woman of my standing, being tactful and understanding the bigger picture were basic requirements. I had always played my part perfectly. But now, a rebellious spark I hadn’t felt in years ignited within me. In the car on the way to a gala, I was the one to break the heavy silence. “It’s Gwen, isn’t it?” I kept my voice even. “She’s back, so you’re desperate to prove something.” He was reviewing a financial report. At my words, the index finger resting on his tailored trousers curled involuntarily. It was a minuscule movement, but after years of sharing a life, I knew it was a tell. He was guilty. So it really was Gwen. What a romantic fool he was. The ghost of a first love, a flame that had burned in his heart for so many years, undying and brilliant. And me? I wasn’t even a bloodstain on the wall. Just a decorative piece, a wife he’d married out of familial duty. He heard my soft, derisive laugh and finally turned to face me. “Ari, don’t overthink it. This has nothing to do with anyone else.” God, I hated that placid, unreadable face of his. It made everything I did, everything I felt, seem like a childish tantrum. “You’re right,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “She’s not just anyone. She’s the love of your life. My mistake, for being the placeholder for twenty years.” His brow furrowed, and he let out a sigh of weary resignation. He placed his large, warm hand over mine, a classic maneuver to deflect and pacify. “If you’re not feeling up to it, we can go home. We don’t have to attend the gala tonight.” But I was done being placated. “So, it is because of her, isn’t it? Because of Gwen, you can’t even be bothered to grant me the slightest bit of public decency anymore.” “Ariadne! Stop it.” He cut me off, his voice dropping low, laced with annoyance. I knew that tone. When a man starts evading the question, you’ve hit a nerve. But my patience had reached its absolute limit. I ripped my hand from his grasp and, with all the force I could muster, I slapped him across the face. I had wanted to do that for a very, very long time. “Let’s get a divorce, Zeke!” My voice was a raw, ragged thing. “I am so sick and tired of you!” “If there really is a next life, I would never marry you again! I would rather have died at twenty-four than ever have met you!” His head snapped to the side from the unexpected blow. He turned back slowly, his eyes wide with a dazed sort of shock. “What did you just say?” What did I say? Are you deaf? Of course, you’re an expert at playing deaf and dumb. It didn’t matter anymore. We were getting a divorce. An end to this absurd, laughable marriage. You don’t have to wait for the next life, Zeke. In this one, you can finally be with whoever you want. … “Watch out!” … CRUNCH! … The last thing I remember before darkness took me was the image of Zeke lunging toward me. It was seared into my memory because I had never, ever seen such a vivid, terrified expression on his face. So much so that when I awoke at that fateful meeting at age 24, my first instinct was to ask him: Why? When death was upon us, why did you throw yourself in front of me? 03 But Zeke moved faster than my thoughts could form. He shot to his feet, interrupting his mother’s carefully prepared introduction. His deep-set eyes found mine across the table. “I’m sorry, Miss Astor, but I have a girlfriend. We’re done here.” With that, he turned and walked away, leaving both our families sitting in stunned, humiliated silence. I knew, in that instant. He was back, too. Fate was truly kind to him. Handsome, wealthy. And now, a second chance at life. I laughed at myself, at my own foolish sentimentality. And I laughed because, thanks to him, I was 24 again. Just before he reached the door, I called out to him. “Then, Mr. Crawford, I suppose this is goodbye for good.” He paused for a beat, but didn’t look back. He just walked out. This time, he would go find his one true love. And I… I would finally live for myself—wildly, passionately, and freely. No longer would I be the one to trade my ambitions for an apron. No longer the dutiful wife of Mr. So-and-so. And never again would I be a beautiful, docile accessory on a man’s arm. 04 With my life reset, my days became a whirlwind of fulfilling activity. I was busy prepping my application for Oxford, busy launching my own artisanal coffee shop. Busy raising a dog and taking my cat for walks. Freed from the rush to marry, I discovered the vast, liberating world outside the gilded cage. In that first year, Zeke and I never crossed paths. I didn’t seek out news of him, but our world was small. The same people, the same stories, always circling back. I heard he followed Gwen to the States. I heard his father, the patriarch of the Crawford family, was furious and stripped him of all his positions at the family corporation. I heard he returned with Gwen and started his own investment firm. And I heard he was planning a grand proposal. Good for him. The difference between being loved and not being loved was starkly, painfully obvious. 05 Gwen had been coming to my coffee shop for several days in a row. Each time, she would order a single cup and sit for hours at a corner table by the window. I could occasionally feel her gaze on me, sizing me up. But the 24-year-old Ariadne Astor had no reason to know a Gwen. If she wasn’t going to make the first move, I wasn’t going to acknowledge her. She was, after all, paying customer. On the fifth day, during a quiet afternoon, she finally approached the counter. She tapped her manicured nails on the polished wood. “Miss Astor. We need to talk.” The last person who spoke to me with that tone was my boss during my internship. She certainly had my attention. I raised an eyebrow, but my hands didn’t stop polishing a glass. “Have a seat. I’ll be with you in a moment.” A few minutes later, I brought a freshly brewed coffee over to her table. “Try this. It’s a unique blend, not on the menu. You might like it.” She looked surprised. “You know who I am?” Of course I did. In our previous life, I had probably spent more time secretly looking at the photograph of her tucked away in Zeke’s books than he ever did. I knew about the tiny, almost invisible mole above her left eyebrow. I nodded and pointed to my own eyes. “You’ve been sitting in that exact spot for five days.” She gave a tight smile, taking a sip of the coffee to hide her awkwardness. Her brow furrowed, and she quickly put the cup down. It was probably too bitter for her. She dispensed with the pleasantries. Reaching into her designer bag, she pulled out a checkbook, wrote out a blank check, and slid it across the table. “Name your price, Miss Astor. To stay away from Zeke.” I was speechless. Her methods were surprisingly similar to Zeke’s. I picked up the check with both hands, studying it with mock seriousness. Since she was offering, it would be rude to refuse. Now, what number to write… I picked up the pen and scribbled a string of digits, then pushed it back to her. It wasn’t that much. Zeke would just have to work a little harder. As I recalled, in about five years, he should be able to afford it. In twenty years, he could probably multiply it by a hundred. 06 Her face darkened as she read the number on the check. “Miss Astor, your appetite is a little… excessive, don’t you think?” I feigned innocence. “Is it? I thought it was rather reasonable.” “A hundred million dollars! You have some nerve!” She was so easily shocked. “I’d have the nerve to ask for a billion, too.” My gaze rested on her beautiful, delicate face. She was undeniably stunning, with an air of defiant confidence. I picked up my own cup and took a slow, appreciative sip. She had no idea what she was missing. I rarely brought out beans of this quality. Not because they were expensive, but because the yield was incredibly low. In my last life, Zeke had been a coffee aficionado with a ridiculously picky palate. Nothing bought from a store ever met his standards. I spent years studying his preferences, experimenting with hundreds of beans from different origins, and adjusting the roasting methods countless times. Finally, one day, I earned a single nod of approval from him. For the next twenty years, brewing his coffee became my daily ritual. Thinking of the past left a bitter taste in my mouth. I had no energy to play games with the woman in front of me anymore. “You should go,” I said flatly. “I have nothing to do with Zeke Crawford. We had one disastrous arranged meeting where he made it clear he wasn’t interested in me.” Her composure cracked. “Don’t play dumb with me, Miss Astor!” she snapped. “If there’s nothing between you, then why does he call out your name when he’s drunk?” “I don’t know when you two got involved, but I suggest you show some self-respect. Zeke and I have been together for four years. We are getting married.” I… I must have owed Zeke a cosmic debt. A lifetime of servitude clearly wasn’t enough; he had to come back and ruin this one, too. 07 Zeke arrived just as Gwen and I were locked in a standoff. “Miss Astor, the coffee here is terrible. I’m surprised you’re still in business.” I leaned back, a lazy smile on my face, and spread my hands. “If you cash that check you wrote me, I won’t have to worry about being in business at all.” My casual amusement must have provoked her. In a dramatic gesture, she snatched her coffee cup and flung its contents at me. I narrowed my eyes, bracing for impact. I really shouldn’t have given her so much face. But the scalding liquid never hit me. Zeke appeared out of nowhere, throwing himself in front of me, taking the full force of the splash. The hot, dark coffee streamed down his hair and dripped from the lapels of his expensive suit. In this life and the last, it was the first time I had ever seen him look so utterly disheveled. But I felt no gratitude. This whole mess was his fault to begin with. If he hadn’t intervened, my vengeful nature would have ensured I returned the favor tenfold. Gwen was even more shocked than I was. The moment Zeke appeared, she shot up from her seat. “Zeke, what are you doing?” she shrieked. “Why would you block that for her? Are you insane?” “What is going on between you two?” She crossed her arms, ignoring the mess dripping all over him, her furious gaze darting between us, searching for any sign of collusion. See? Zeke always had a way of driving the women around him mad. It used to be me. Now it was her. Only this time, it had nothing to do with me. The person who needed to explain and clarify was not me. I pushed my chair back with a look of distaste and took several steps away. I had someone bring Zeke a clean towel and then prepared to leave. I had been given a second chance, and I had no intention of getting entangled in their drama again. “Ariadne, don’t you dare leave! You explain yourself!” Gwen yelled, losing her composure as I started to walk away. My face went cold, and I shot her a look as sharp as a blade. “Have I been too polite to you? So much so that you’ve forgotten your place? Your man’s issues are none of my business.” My voice dropped. “You should be grateful that coffee didn’t touch me.” … “Enough!” Zeke’s sharp reprimand cut through the tension. He pressed his fingers to his temple. It was an old habit, a stress-induced migraine that flared up when he was overworked or agitated. In our last life, I had spent years seeking out specialists and even learned therapeutic massage techniques from a master practitioner just to help him find relief. He seemed to remember it, too. His eyes met mine for a fleeting second before he quickly looked away. I guessed he felt a pang of guilt. “Ariadne, I’m sorry. Could you please give us a moment?” He then gestured to the empty cup on the table. “And could you bring another coffee, the same as this one?” I gave him a withering look. “Sorry, that blend isn’t on the menu.” And sorry, I’m not serving you. If you think you’re drinking coffee made by my hands in this lifetime, you can dream on. 08 Gwen wanted to continue the argument, but Zeke took her by the hand and gently pushed her back into the booth. I had to admire his patience, sitting there covered in coffee stains while he calmed her down. A part of me laughed bitterly at the woman I used to be. I don’t know what he said to her, but after shooting me a few more dirty looks, she grabbed her bag and stormed out. I idly flicked the paw of the little lucky cat figurine on the counter. Zeke came over to pay. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “I never expected she would find you here. She’s still young, a bit impulsive… don’t take it to heart.” I paused, momentarily confused by his words. When I understood, I was almost speechless. I shrugged nonchalantly. “If you can get her to cash that check, I won’t mind at all.” He stood across from me, his posture impeccable, his lips pressed into a thin line. The aura of authority he commanded seemed at odds with his youthful, 24-year-old face. Just when I thought the conversation was over, he let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “Ariadne, if you ever need help, I can…” “I don’t.” I cut him off, my patience wearing thin. “Your girlfriend is waiting outside. I suggest you handle this. I don’t want to see either of you in my shop again.” For a moment, I thought I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes. I must have been mistaken. He was always invincible. No one could hurt him, least of all me—someone he never cared about. “Alright,” he finally said, and with a steady gait, he left. 09 After months of focused effort, my IELTS results came back. A score of 8. I submitted my application to the University of Oxford. In my last life, I had walked into the gilded cage of marriage at a young age. Zeke said he wanted a supportive wife, so I dutifully turned down every job offer, dedicating myself entirely to managing his life. To me, building a strong marriage and a good home was a noble pursuit, just as it had been for my mother. I naturally assumed that even in an arranged marriage, love could grow. Or, more accurately, that I could make him fall in love with me. But I forgot that a canary, no matter how prized, is destined to live in a cage, admired at the owner’s whim. Fed when he’s pleased, ignored when he’s not. It has no other value, no chance to fly free. When my parents learned of my plans, they were surprised by my transformation, but since it was a positive change, they were supportive. My brother was handling the family business, so they didn’t need me. As for the marriage alliance, a delay of a few years wasn’t a problem. Perhaps with a degree from Oxford, I could secure an even better match. My family loved me. But their love always came with a price tag attached. I wasn’t sad about it. I had, after all, enjoyed the luxurious life they provided. While waiting for a response from the university, I poured all my energy into the coffee shop. This little place wasn’t worth much in their eyes, but to me, it was a testament to my own value.

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