Author: Momo Chan

1 I made the mistake of eating a slice of cake the intern had baked for my wife, Claire. Claire frowned, disgusted. She dragged me to the hospital and forced the doctors to pump my stomach three times. The procedure was so violent it destroyed my stomach lining. To save my life, they had to perform a partial gastrectomy—removing two-thirds of my stomach. Now, I survived on liquid diets. Within weeks, I was nothing but skin and bones. Claire didn’t care. I watched her hand-feed steak to Rob, the intern, wiping sauce from his lip with her thumb. When I asked her, eyes red and stinging, why she treated me this way, she looked at me with pure disdain. “You ate the cake Rob made for me with his own hands. Consider this a lesson.” So, Rob was that important to her. And I was nothing. Fine. If that’s how it is, I’ll leave. I’ll let them have each other. … After the surgery, my body was a wreck. Because I couldn’t absorb nutrients properly, dizzy spells became my new normal. I hadn’t even fully recovered, yet I was alone in the office, working overtime to fix a critical error in the company’s data. Suddenly, the incision site in my abdomen began to throb with blinding pain. I scrambled for the painkillers on my desk, shaking the bottle. Empty. The office was a tomb. Even security had clocked out for the night. Desperate and sweating, I called Claire. She hung up on me three times. On the fourth try, she finally answered. “Claire… I… my stomach is burning. Please, can you bring me the prescription painkillers from the house?” I was gasping for air, trying to talk through the agony. Claire let out a sharp tsk. “You are unbelievable.” It was an emergency. The pharmacies were closed. “Claire, please. Just this once.” There was a two-second silence. Then, Rob’s voice floated through the speaker, bright and mocking. “Liam, come on. Why are you such a buzzkill? You had to pick my birthday dinner to bother Claire?” “And the stomach thing? Your surgery was days ago. Can’t you come up with a better excuse for attention?” I gritted my teeth. “Claire, I’m only here working overtime to save your company’s biggest project. I just need the medicine. That’s it.” I knew the answer before she spoke, but a pathetic part of me still hoped. I remembered when we first started dating. She had a high fever, 104 degrees. I ran through a thunderstorm to get her medicine, nearly getting hit by a car in the process. I never complained. I just wanted her to be okay. Claire took the phone back. Her voice was ice. “Rob is alone in this city. He has no family. He shouldn’t spend his birthday alone.” “He’s just a kid, Liam. I’m celebrating with him. Your scar hurts a little? Grow up. It’s not life-threatening.” “But… it really hurts,” I whispered. Cold sweat had soaked through my dress shirt. “Figure it out yourself. Stop being a burden.” Click. The line went dead. Another call with my wife, another knife in my back. The pain was so intense I started dry heaving, clutching the trash can, but nothing came out except bile. The room spun. Still, I forced myself to sit up. I hit ‘Save’ on the project proposal. This file was my life’s blood—the result of months of grueling research. The moment the progress bar hit 100%, my body gave out. I collapsed onto the office floor and blacked out. I don’t know how long I lay there. When I opened my eyes, morning sunlight was harsh against my face. The pain had dulled to a throb. I reached for my phone to call an ambulance, but a notification from Rob popped up on my feed. Received the best gift ever. Thank you, Claire! <3 The photo showed a brand new Porsche 911. Value: at least $200,000. I remembered asking for a sensible sedan last year for my commute. Claire refused, citing "budget cuts" and "frugality." I still didn't have my own car. Yet she handed a luxury sports car to an intern like it was candy. No one liked or commented on Rob’s post. It was obvious he had set the privacy settings so only I would see it. I closed the app, laughing bitterly at myself. Immediately, a message from Rob arrived. "Did you see it, Liam?" "Everything I want, I get. I honestly pity you. You've been wagging your tail around Claire for so long, but you're less than a dog to her." "It’s embarrassing. If I were you, I’d crawl into a hole and die." Rage flared in my chest, but I pushed it down. I didn't have the energy to fight a boy toy. The priority was the project. This new drug formulation was my ticket out. The bonus alone would be enough to sustain me for years after I filed for divorce. I pulled myself into my chair and woke up my computer. My desktop was empty. The file—my proposal, my data, my research—was gone. Panic set in. I searched every drive, every folder. Nothing. Wiped clean. Ding. A message from Claire. "Meeting in five minutes. Major announcement." My head was pounding. A bad feeling settled in my gut, heavier than the missing piece of my stomach. Claire walked into the conference room five minutes later. Rob was right beside her, holding a thick leather-bound folder. He looked at me, his eyes dancing with malicious triumph. "Let’s give a round of applause for Rob," Claire announced, her voice projecting authority. "After three months of tireless work, he has finalized the proposal for the new synthetic drug." "I’ve reviewed his data. It’s flawless. Once the FDA approves this, we go straight to production." "Congratulations, Rob. Hard work pays off." Applause erupted. Rob stood up, bowing theatrically, soaking in the praise. My ears were ringing. A high-pitched whine drowned out the clapping. Rob began his presentation. He was reading my words. Explaining my formulas. That was my work. My life. I fought through the nausea and slammed my hand on the table. "That is my proposal!" The room went silent. The executives stared at me. Claire frowned, looking at me like I was a stain on the carpet. "Sit down, Liam. You’re making a scene." Rob, the thief, didn't even flinch. He played the victim instantly. "Just because you say it's yours doesn't make it true, Liam." "Mr. Sterling, I know you're senior to me, but you can't bully a rookie just because you're older." "I spent three months not sleeping, losing my hair over this data, and you just want to claim it?" He sniffled, his eyes glistening. "Claire, I’m just a fresh graduate. I know I don't have his status, but he can't just erase my hard work!" Claire immediately softened. She reached out and wiped a tear from his cheek in front of the entire board. It was intimate. Disgusting. The executives turned on me. "Liam, that’s low. Trying to steal credit from a kid?" "I thought you had integrity. Clearly, I was wrong." "Jealousy is an ugly look on you." I looked around the room. Accusing eyes everywhere. No one saw the dark circles under my eyes, the weight I’d lost for this company. My throat tickled, and I hacked out a dry cough. Claire glanced at me, a flicker of annoyance crossing her face. "Does no one see what I’ve done?" I rasped, my voice breaking. "No one wanted this project. I took it. I built it from nothing. And now you let him steal it?" "If it's yours," Rob challenged, "prove it." "Where are your drafts? Your search history? Your download logs? Even a timestamp on your computer?" He knew. He knew my computer had been wiped. "I sent a draft to Claire," I said, desperate. I looked at my wife. "Claire, last week. I emailed you the preliminary data. Check your inbox. Prove to them it’s mine." Claire looked at me. Then she looked away. The room waited. Finally, she spoke. "I do have a draft in my inbox." I exhaled. Thank God. "But," she continued, her voice flat, "that draft came from Rob. Not you." "What?" I stood up, swaying. "That’s a lie! You asked to see my progress! I sent it to you!" Rob smirked. "Stop lying, Liam. It’s pathetic. Claire already confirmed it." "Show us a screenshot then," he goaded. "Unless you don't have one?" I didn't. My phone had been remotely wiped and reset while I was passed out. My laptop was clean. I looked at Claire, pleading with my eyes. Five years of marriage. Doesn't that mean anything? Claire didn't flinch. She drove the final nail into the coffin. "The timestamps confirm Rob is the author." "Rob was top of his class at university. I entrusted this project to him secretly months ago. He delivered." "As for Liam... I suspect he is jealous of Rob's natural talent. He’s refusing to accept that he’s been surpassed." In three sentences, she branded me a plagiarist and a failure. "Claire," I whispered, ignoring the room. "Do you care so little about our marriage?" She turned her cold gaze on me. "Mr. Sterling looks tired. Since your stomach still hurts, take a leave of absence. Indefinitely." "But... my drug..." "The drug? Rob will handle the production phase. You aren't needed." I collapsed back into my chair. Defeated. The meeting ended. They all left for a celebratory lunch at a five-star hotel. They fawned over Rob like he was the messiah of pharmaceuticals. I sat alone in the empty conference room all afternoon, stomach cramping, trying not to vomit air. That night, I dragged myself home. Claire wasn't there. My phone pinged. A message from an unknown number. "Pick me up. Room 3023, The Ritz." It was Claire's tone. I drove to the hotel, exhausted. I walked down the plush corridor to room 3023. Before I could knock, I heard it. "You're so beautiful, Claire..." Rob’s voice. Followed by giggles and the unmistakable sounds of skin on skin. My hand froze in mid-air. I stood there for an eternity until the sounds died down. Then, I forced myself to ring the doorbell. Rob opened the door. He was wearing nothing but a towel. Behind him, clothes were scattered across the floor—a trail of infidelity leading to the bed. "Oh, Liam. You’re here," he said casually. "Claire had too much wine. I was just taking care of her." The rage I felt was so potent I thought my stitches would burst. I wanted to smash his face in. "Shh," he put a finger to his lips. "She finally fell asleep. Don't wake her." I looked past him. Claire was sleeping soundly in the king-sized bed. "Come outside," I hissed. We went to the hotel bar downstairs. It was empty. "You sent the message, didn't you?" I asked. "And you wiped my computer." Rob took a sip of water, a smug grin spreading across his face. "Guilty. But you missed the point." "What point?" He laughed. A cruel, barking sound. "You’re so slow. Didn't you realize? Claire allowed all of it." "The theft, the wiping of the data... she orchestrated it. She told me the day I was hired that she’d give me a flagship project to launch my career." My blood ran cold. It had been a setup from the start. "Why?" I choked out. "Why do this to me?" "Why? Look in a mirror," Rob sneered. "Claire only married you because you looked like her first love. The one who died." "But now I’m here. I’m younger, better. You’re just a fading copy of a dead man. You have no value." "Well, except one value: doing the grunt work so I could put my name on it." I felt like I had been gutted all over again. I knew I resembled her ex, but hearing it weaponized like this was agonizing. "You stole the file," I said, my voice shaking, "but you didn't steal the core algorithm. The encryption key is in my head. We’ll see who wins." Rob laughed again, hugging his chest. "The core tech? Liam, you are so naive. Claire knew you’d say that." He tossed a manila envelope onto the table. "Take a look. We have everything. Your passwords, your encryption keys, your private backups. Claire lived with you for years. She knows your habits better than you do." I opened the folder with trembling hands. It was all there. Every safeguard I had built was dismantled. Just then, footsteps approached. Claire walked into the bar, looking refreshed. I looked up at her, heartbreak washing over me. "Claire... this was my life's work." She couldn't meet my eyes. She looked at the floor, then hardened her expression. "It’s for the good of the company, Liam." "Rob is the future. He has the charisma to sell this. You don't." "It gives him a head start in the industry." I let out a broken laugh. "For Rob. Everything is for Rob. Five years of marriage... am I worth less than dust to you?" "What am I to you, Claire?" She stopped pretending. She shrugged. "It’s just a patent, Liam. Haven't I given you three years of my youth? Isn't that payment enough?" "If you're going to be difficult, I'll pay you off. But the project belongs to Rob. Don't fight me on this." Rob waved his hand dismissively. "Claire, send him away. He’s depressing to look at." Claire pulled a bank card from her purse and flicked it at me. It hit my chest and clattered to the floor. "Severance. Take it and leave the company. Your presence makes Rob uncomfortable." I bent down and picked up the card. It felt heavy. "One last question," I said softly. "Are you really throwing away everything we had?" "Yes." Her voice was razor-sharp. "From the moment Rob walked in, you became obsolete. You were just a placeholder." That broke the last chain binding me to her. "Fine. I’ll go." I walked out of the hotel into the cold night air. I had lost my job, my wife, my health, and my creation. But as I stood on the curb, I reached into my pocket and pulled out a business card I had kept hidden for months. I dialed the number. "Ms. Vanguard? It’s Liam Sterling. I’m ready to join you."

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The day I discovered my husband had a secret three-year-old son, I rigged the gas main in our villa. I intended to light a match the moment he walked through the door and take us both to hell. But that night, Neo didn’t come home. Instead, for the first time, I felt the baby kick. In that split second, the desire to die vanished. I took the most expensive car in the garage, drove to the edge of the property, and triggered the explosion remotely. Bathed in the orange glow of the flames, I drove straight to the airport. From that night on, the Mrs. Gu—Anna—who had become the laughingstock of New York’s elite, ceased to exist. Five years later, we met again in the lobby of a historic inn in a quiet riverside town. He stared at me as I politely handed him a room key, his eyes losing focus. “Anna? You look… different.” I didn’t answer. I simply smiled—a practiced, hollow curve of the lips—and wished his family of three a pleasant stay. 1. The key card hovered in the air between us. Neo didn’t move to take it. My wrist began to ache from holding the pose. I cleared my throat. “Mr. Gu, your key.” “I’ll take it, babe.” A gentle, melodic voice drifted from behind him, shattering the frozen tension. It was his lawfully wedded wife, Mindy. My gaze snagged on the massive diamond—the size of a pigeon’s egg—glittering on her ring finger before colliding with her beautiful eyes. The same eyes that had haunted my nightmares for years. “Didn’t I tell you to wait on the sofa? You never listen. You make me worry.” Neo’s reaction was instinctual. He took her purse, his arm circling her waist protectively. He placed the back of his hand against her forehead, his voice dripping with a tenderness I had never known. “Good, the fever’s down.” “You must be exhausted. Take our son upstairs to rest. I’ll go out and buy you some hot soup.” Mindy leaned into his chest, her smile widening as she glanced at me. It was a look of pure assessment. “Okay. I’ll wait for you.” I averted my eyes as they embraced. At that moment, a delivery driver walked in, struggling with a heavy shipment of cat litter. While I was checking the order on the tablet, Neo had already bent down and hoisted the box. “I’ve got it. Where does it go?” “Don’t bother.” I reached out to take it, deliberately stepping back to create a chasm of distance between us. I glanced at his bespoke Italian suit, now dusted with grime from the box. I turned to the register, pulled out two bills, and held them out. “Dry cleaning fee. Take it.” “No, I offered to help.” Neo reached out to stop me. His fingertips grazed my wrist, and I recoiled as if burned. His hand froze in mid-air. His voice dropped, thick with an emotion I couldn’t place. “Really, Anna. Keep it. I have to go.” He turned sharply, nearly colliding with Bella, my young employee, who was returning with a bag of roasted chestnuts. Bella watched his retreating figure, eyes wide. She grabbed my arm, practically vibrating with excitement. “Anna! Wasn’t that Neo Gu? The tech mogul from New York? God, he’s gorgeous in person!” “I saw his interview in Forbes. Self-made billionaire, and every third sentence was about his late wife. Powerful and devoted? That’s a unicorn right there.” A few guests in the lobby chimed in, nodding eagerly. “Right? I heard his ex-wife was insane. She supposedly attacked people with a knife. Belonged in jail, honestly.” “He was too soft-hearted. Gave her a massive settlement and only divorced her when he couldn’t take the abuse anymore.” Hearing the slander again, after five years, I felt nothing. My heart was a stagnant pool of dead water. Only the jagged scar on the web of my hand began to throb. 2. I rubbed my thumb over the centipede-like scar between my thumb and forefinger. The memories flooded back, unbidden. Neo wasn’t always a titan of industry. Once, he was just the charity case at our prep school, bullied for his poverty. I remembered a winter day, freezing cold. A group of rich heirs had cornered him in an alley. Blood streamed down his forehead, staining his threadbare uniform crimson. I was the one who grabbed a piece of lumber and charged in to save him. In the chaos, a broken bottle sliced my hand open. It tore down to the bone. Twelve stitches. Neo had tried to sneak out of the emergency room. I chased him down, only to realize his pockets were empty. He didn’t even have the money for the copay. He had an alcoholic father and a mother struggling with severe mental illness. From that day on, I became his shield. He remained silent, brooding, but he would stay late after school to help me with advanced calculus. The year we graduated, he got into an Ivy League university on a full academic ride, but he almost didn’t go because he couldn’t afford the room and board. I begged my father to sponsor him. When he started his first company during senior year, the same rich bullies tried to crush him with lawsuits. My father intervened, brought Neo into our family business, and mentored him. Neo had a terrifying gift for business. Complex data streams that gave others headaches made perfect sense to him at a glance. I used to sit beside him, chin in my hand, watching his profile as he worked. My eyes were full of hero worship. My father saw right through me. Even knowing Neo only felt gratitude towards me, he funded Neo’s startup after graduation. Within a year, Neo Gu was a name to be reckoned with in New York. Later, when my mother fell ill and my father made risky investments to pay for experimental treatments, our family company teetered on the brink of bankruptcy. It was Neo who stepped in and saved us. My father used to say, “Neo is our benefactor now. The debts are paid. Let him live his life.” But Neo knelt before my father, his expression solemn, swearing an oath. “Sir, I can never repay what you’ve done. Please, give Anna to me. I will take care of her for the rest of my life. She will never suffer, not for a second.” The old scar on my hand pulsed again. I looked down at the ugly, raised skin and felt a bitter laugh bubble up in my throat. Humans are so tragically naive. We mistake gratitude for love every single time. After that, I didn’t even need a formal title. I acted like Mrs. Gu. I spent time at his office, silently marking my territory. Neo never objected. He even let me interview his personal assistants. “Just pick a sharp guy,” he’d said. But the day of the interviews, my eyes landed on Mindy’s resume. It was average. Single, divorced, no kids. But her eyes. They were identical to Neo’s late mother’s eyes. Neo’s mother, in her lucid moments, had been the only light in his dark childhood. So, I didn’t ask questions. I hired Mindy. When Neo saw her, he lost his composure. His eyes turned red. That night, he held me, trembling, whispering thank you over and over. I felt sorry for him. I invited Mindy to our home for dinner. I created opportunities for them to bond, thinking I was helping heal his childhood trauma. I didn’t know I was digging my own grave. 3. The gossiping crowd dispersed. I shook off the memories and picked up a framed photo of my daughter, wiping a speck of dust from the glass. Bella, munching on a chestnut, leaned over the counter. “Anna, these remainders are still warm. Why don’t you ever eat them? They’re delicious.” My hand froze on the frame. The pain hit me like a physical blow. My mother and I used to love roasted chestnuts. Every winter, my father would bring home a paper bag of them, steaming hot. Mom would peel them, blow on them to cool them down, and feed them to me. The year Mom was dying, in a moment of terminal lucidity, she whispered that she wanted chestnuts. Dad drove out into a blizzard to buy them. Halfway back, the hospital called to say she was crashing. In his panic, he sped up. He hydroplaned into an oncoming semi-truck. He died instantly. The bag of chestnuts, still hot, was found scattered across the icy asphalt, stained with my father’s blood. That snowy day, I lost both of my parents. Bella listened to the silence, her eyes tearing up. She realized she’d stepped on a landmine. She pushed the bag away, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Anna… I’m so sorry. Lily and I aren’t going anywhere. We’ll always be with you.” “Lily gets out of school soon. Maybe we can take a walk by the river tonight…” She stopped mid-sentence. Her eyes locked onto the photo of my daughter, then widened in shock. “Anna… Lily’s father… the one who disappeared… is it…?” I nodded once. Bella wrestled with herself for a moment before asking, her voice trembling with righteous indignation. “Then… the rumors… Anna, how much did you have to endure?” I paused. A sudden sting in my nose threatened tears, but I blinked them away. I smiled. Actually, we had a few sweet years. The day my parents died, Neo proposed to me. He brought a lawyer to the funeral home and signed over all his shares in his company to me. He knelt on one knee, swearing he would give me a new home, a new family. He begged me to stop crying because it was breaking his heart. When I fainted from grief, he handled the double funeral arrangements himself. We eloped. No wedding, just plain bands we’d bought during college. I was content. I thought I was the luckiest woman alive. I poured my soul into Neo. I knew he was busy building an empire, so I asked for nothing. If he worked late, I left a light on. If he traveled, I packed his bags. And for a while, he didn’t disappoint. New York was envious of how he doted on me. The billboards in Times Square, the front pages of society papers—he used them all to declare his love. “I love Anna” was his public mantra. Just as I was finally healing from the loss of my parents, drowning in his affection, the news broke. Billionaire Gu Caught in Affair. The photos were clear. Neo and Mindy, embracing in the rooftop garden of a revolving restaurant. Kissing. It was my birthday. I had cooked a feast of his favorite dishes. I was wearing the dress he bought me. I waited all night. Every time I called, he answered, voice tender: “I’m in a meeting, baby. Be good. I’ll be home soon.” Mindy had even sent me a gift that day—a jewelry set bought with her year-end bonus. The card read: Happy Birthday to my best friend. That night, surrounded by cold food and “happiness,” I thought I had everything. I didn’t know the two people I loved most were holding the knife behind my back. 4. When I saw the news, I snapped. I got in my car and drove like a maniac, tears blurring the road. I almost crashed twice. I didn’t care. I just wanted answers. I screeched to a halt in front of the restaurant just as Neo was opening the car door for Mindy like a gentleman. I ripped my door open and sprinted toward them. Neo instinctively stepped in front of Mindy, shielding her. His eyes were cold, devoid of guilt. “Anna, what the hell are you doing causing a scene here?” Mindy peeked out from behind him, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Anna.” Around her pale neck hung a ruby necklace—one I had admired for months but felt was too extravagant to buy. Right next to the ruby, a dark hickey bloomed on her skin. It stung my eyes more than the gem. I lunged at her, screaming. “I treated you like a sister! I gave you everything! Why?!” Mindy started sobbing, shrinking into Neo’s arms, but her eyes danced with triumph. Neo shoved me. Hard. Then he turned to check on Mindy, his voice soft, cooing at her tears. I fell to the pavement, clutching my stomach as a sharp cramp seized me. I watched them hold each other, and my heart shattered. Neo turned back to scold me, but then he froze. Blood was pooling beneath my dress. I miscarried. Our first child, killed by his hand. He took me to the hospital. He sat by my bed, looking just as devastated and loving as he used to. He apologized a thousand times. “Anna, I’m sorry. I was wrong. I promise, I will never hurt you again.” I slapped him. I clawed at him. I screamed that he was a monster. He took it all silently, eyes red. “Don’t agitate yourself,” he whispered. “Your health comes first.” But I wasn’t done. I screamed that I would destroy Mindy. That was when Neo’s face changed. He slapped me across the face. His voice was ice. “Anna, if you touch a hair on her head, I will make you wish you were dead.” Seeing him protect the mistress ignited a hatred in me that burned hotter than love ever did. After that day, he stopped visiting. He paraded Mindy around town openly. My phone was flooded with photos of them in bed, sent by anonymous numbers, accompanied by vile insults. I smashed everything in our penthouse. I burned our wedding album. When my body healed, I called in every favor my father had left behind. I blacklisted Mindy from every industry in the city. I leaked the details of the affair to the press. For a week, Mindy was a pariah. Then Neo retaliated. He locked me in a hotel room for months. He tied me to the bed. He forced himself on me, recording my screams and my breakdowns, careful to blur his own face. He leaked the videos. Overnight, the narrative flipped. Mindy was the victim of a crazy woman. I became the “deranged wife,” the “slut,” the joke of New York. My friends abandoned me. My father’s old company, which had been hanging by a thread, lost its last investors because of my reputation. It went bankrupt. The day my dignity was completely destroyed, Neo let me go. I was hollowed out by hate. I took a knife and marched into his headquarters. I managed to slash Mindy’s arm and graze Neo’s shoulder before security tackled me. While I was pinned to the floor, screaming like a banshee, Neo sat at his desk and signed the papers to sell my father’s company for pennies on the dollar. My father’s legacy, gone. I begged him to stop. I invoked my father’s name, the man who saved him from the streets. Neo looked down at me with pure contempt. “Anna, that debt was paid the moment I kept the company afloat this long. You hurt Mindy. Now I’m going to take my time destroying you.” That was the day I saw their son, Mason. He was already walking. I realized then that their affair hadn’t started recently. It started the moment I hired her. My lack of a wedding, my cheap ring—it wasn’t thriftiness. It was Neo saving money for her. Even the “I Love Anna” billboards? Mindy booked the ad space. It was all a smokescreen to protect their little family while I played the fool. That night, I rigged the gas line. I wanted to end it all. But then, the nausea hit. I took a test. Pregnant again. Hope is a dangerous thing. It cut through the darkness. I triggered the explosion to fake my death and vanished into the night. Bella was sobbing into her sleeve. I wiped her tears and walked to the door to wait for the kindergarten bus. Bella followed me, voice hoarse, cursing Neo to the high heavens. I took my daughter’s small hand as she hopped off the bus. I turned around—and slammed straight into a familiar gaze. Neo was standing there. The container of soup he had gone to buy slipped from his fingers and splattered on the floor. His pupils constricted to pinpricks. He stared at Lily. “That child… whose is it?” 5. I pulled Lily behind me, shielding her with my body. My voice was steel. “This is my daughter. She has nothing to do with you, Mr. Gu. Your wife and son are waiting upstairs. Don’t keep them waiting.” Neo took a step forward. Bella, bless her heart, lunged like a feral cat. She shoved him back with surprising strength. “Are you deaf? She said get lost! We don’t welcome trash in this B&B! Get your people and get out!” She dragged him by his expensive sleeve toward the door. Neo stumbled, offering no resistance, but his head remained turned, his eyes locked on Lily with a burning intensity. “Mommy, let’s go,” Lily tugged at my hand, oblivious to the undercurrents. “Uncle Ethan is waiting for us to eat pizza!” Ethan. My landlord. The man who had silently stood guard over me for five years. I looked over and saw him waiting by the entrance of the pizza place down the street. His eyes were warm, steady—like a harbor in a storm. I relaxed. “Okay, sweetie. Let’s go.”

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1 The day I was sentenced to death for a crime I didn’t commit, my fiancée Elena married my stepbrother. My mother coughed up blood and died upon hearing the news, while my father’s mistress celebrated at the head table. During five years in prison, I endured beatings and pain, surviving only on thoughts of revenge. Then, suppressed evidence emerged, proving my innocence. I walked out, buried the name “Caleb Rivera,” and plunged into the violent underworld of the borderlands. The man who rose from the corpses was Vince Vance—a feared name in the global arms trade. Two years later, I returned to New York as a munitions tycoon to visit my mother’s grave. As my jet landed, the city’s elite gathered to welcome “Mr. Vance.” On my way out, I saw Elena standing pale at the edge of the crowd. “Caleb?” she whispered. She rushed over, grabbing my arms. “You’re alive! Why didn’t you come for me?” I calmly removed her fingers from my sleeve. “Ms. Elena, have some dignity.” Taking a silk handkerchief, I wiped where she’d touched me, deliberately showing the platinum band on my ring finger. “My wife is a germaphobe.” … Elena’s gaze locked onto the ring. Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Wife? Caleb, don’t be delusional. Look at you.” The crowd began to whisper, their looks of admiration turning to suspicion. “Isn’t that the Rivera convict? The one who was on death row?” “Where is security? Get him out of here! If he upsets Mr. Vance, we’re all finished!” The man who had just been handing me his business card sneered, shoving me. “Get lost! A convict has no business at a gathering like this!” In the commotion, the handkerchief my wife had embroidered for me fell to the marble floor. I reached down to retrieve it, but a stiletto heel slammed down on the fabric. Elena looked down at me, her eyes wet but hard. “Seven years… Caleb, if you were alive, why didn’t you come see me?” I stared at the white silk, now stained with the dirt from her shoe. My eyes turned cold. “See you? See you marry my stepbrother? See you become my sister-in-law?” Elena flinched. “No! I had no choice back then! You don’t understand!” I let out a low, humorless laugh. I would never forget. Seven years ago, in that courtroom. When the judge read the death sentence, my father and Elena didn’t cry. They exhaled. They smiled. That relief was a dull knife sawing at my heart. Elena scanned my appearance, then looked behind me at the empty exit. “Why did you come out of the VIP gate? Do you know the arms dealer, Mr. Vance?” I smirked and shook my head. After all, how can one know oneself? Elena let out a breath, her posture relaxing. “Caleb, I’m begging you. Don’t cause a scene today. We have bet everything on making a connection with this Mr. Vance.” Her eyes drifted to my phone, which lit up with a notification. The lock screen showed me holding my wife, with our two-year-old daughter in my arms. Elena froze, then let out a scoff. “God, you haven’t changed. Still so childish. Did you Photoshop that just to make me jealous?” Her arrogance reminded me of our youth. I once flew halfway across the world just because she said she missed me, just to sing her to sleep. I thought devotion would be returned with devotion. I was an idiot. Seeing my silence, she pitied me. “Give it up. Even if you play pretend, I won’t feel anything for you anymore.” I ignored her narcissism. I pointed to her foot. “Give me the handkerchief.” She looked confused that I cared about a piece of cloth. She lifted her foot, picked it up with two fingers as if it were toxic waste, and sneered. “It’s just a dirty rag. Is this all you’re worth now?” She tossed it into a nearby trash can. Without hesitation, I reached into the bin. Amidst the gasps of the crowd, I retrieved it, carefully dusting off the ash and grime. Elena’s disdain overflowed. “No wonder you came out that exit. You’re working as a janitor now? Caleb, if you’re willing to beg, I can ask your brother to give you a job. At least… you won’t have to be a bottom-feeder.” I folded the cloth reverently and placed it back in my inner pocket. “No need. I didn’t come back to beg for a job.” I looked her dead in the eye. “I came back to balance the ledger.” “You? With what power?” she snapped. I didn’t answer. I turned and walked away. My phone rang. The moment I saw the caller ID, the ice in my veins melted. “Daddy!” My daughter Mia’s voice was a balm to my soul. “Grandpa said we can come see you and Grandma in two days! Do you miss us?” “Every second of every day, sweetheart.” My wife took the phone. Her voice was calm, dangerous, and loving all at once. “Vince, everything is arranged. My father says when we land, we need to pay our proper respects to your mother.” Two years ago, I was a nobody fighting in illegal death matches in the jungle, half-dead. Isabella found me. I didn’t know then that the fragile-looking woman was the only heir to a munitions empire. When I healed, she asked if I dared to trade my life for a future. I had one condition. “I want revenge.” She smiled. “Done.” I hung up and drove straight to the cemetery. For seven years, I had dreamed of kneeling before my mother. But when I arrived at the plot number, there was nothing but an empty pit. My heart hammered against my ribs. I stormed into the management office. “Where is Sarah Rivera’s grave?!” The clerk checked the logs and gave me a weird look. “Who are you to her? That grave was moved three years ago… to the pet sector.” My mind went blank. I stumbled to the pet cemetery adjacent to the grounds. There, next to a lavish tombstone for a dog, was my mother’s headstone, tossed carelessly in the corner, overgrown with weeds. A primal rage, hot and blinding, consumed me. I got in my car and drove to the Rivera estate. I kicked open the doors. My stepmother, Vivian, was wearing a birthday crown, surrounded by guests singing to her. They were celebrating her birthday on the anniversary of my mother’s death. “Where is my mother?!” I roared. Vivian turned pale, then squeezed out crocodile tears as she looked at my father. “I was just afraid Sarah would be lonely down there. When our dog, Buster, died, I thought they could keep each other company…” “You buried my mother with a dog?!” My stepbrother, Liam, stepped forward, swirling his wine glass. “Bro, relax. Your mom was a bitch, Buster was a dog. It’s a match made in heaven, isn’t it?” Laughter rippled through the room. My fists clenched so hard my knuckles turned white. “You forget that without my mother’s money, this family would be on the streets! You’re living on her blood!” “Ungrateful bastard!” My father, Richard, smashed his glass. “Seven years gone and you come back to curse us? Drag him out! I have no son!” Bodyguards rushed me. I threw them off like ragdolls. “Anyone who hurt her will pay in blood!” I screamed. Outside, a thunderstorm broke. Rain hammered the earth. Vivian ran out with an umbrella. “Caleb, it’s pouring. Take this.” As she leaned in, ostensibly to give me the umbrella, she whispered in my ear. “You don’t know how she really died, do you?” I froze. Vivian smirked, her red lips curling like a demon’s. “She was on her knees begging me to save you. But I told her… I told her you were sentenced to death. She vomited blood right onto my shoes. It was… disgusting.” Boom. Something snapped in my brain. The grief was a tsunami. I grabbed Vivian by the throat. I squeezed. Her eyes bulged. She clawed at my hands, feet kicking the air. “Let… go…” “He’s crazy! Save Mrs. Rivera!” The guests panicked. Richard screamed, “Kill him! Take the animal down before he kills her!” But I wasn’t the weak Caleb anymore. I was Vince, forged in war zones. I threw Vivian aside and dismantled the first wave of bodyguards. “Break his legs!” Richard shrieked. More men poured in. I was overwhelmed. Suddenly, a figure burst through the rain. “Caleb! No!” Elena wrapped her arms around me from behind. In the past, whenever my bipolar disorder flared, she would hold me like this. She was my anchor. My savior. Even now, in this moment of life and death, a pathetic part of me wondered: Is she trying to save me? I hesitated. “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered against my ear. “It’ll be over soon.” A sharp pain pricked my neck. A syringe. Muscle relaxant. High dose. My strength evaporated instantly. I collapsed into the mud. “Hold him down!” The guards pinned my limbs. One of them stomped on my shin. Snap. The agony was blinding, but I couldn’t scream. My muscles wouldn’t obey. They grabbed my hair and slammed my head into the pavement, forcing me to kowtow to a gasping Vivian. Thud. Thud. Blood and rain blinded me. Richard looked at me with pure disgust. “Mr. Vance is coming tonight. We can’t have this convict’s blood on the floor. Bad luck.” “Throw him in the trash,” he ordered. “Since he misses his mom so much, send him to her.” They dragged me like a sack of meat and tossed me into the mud next to the dog grave. The rain was freezing. Darkness began to take me. Then, footsteps. Not the chaotic stomping of the guards. The disciplined, rhythmic march of an army. Dozens of polished black shoes surrounded me. A pair of familiar heels stopped by my face. “Vince. We’re here to take you home.” My wife’s voice. Before I blacked out, I rasped, “Before home… revenge.” She pulled my muddy, broken body into her pristine coat. “Done. I’ll burn this place to the ground for you.” Night fell. The Rivera Gala was in full swing. The entire upper crust of New York was there, waiting for the legendary head of the Vance family. Under the flashing lights, an old man walked in, flanked by a wall of security. Arthur Vance. Richard and Vivian practically sprinted to greet him, bows deep and servile. “Mr. Vance! An honor! A true honor!” “We are humbled by your presence!” Richard bent so low his nose nearly touched his knees. Elena and Liam stood by, smiles plastered on their faces. Arthur Vance sat stone-faced. He didn’t take the wine offered to him. He didn’t even look at them. The glass hovered in the air. The room grew awkward. Finally, Arthur cleared his throat. The room went silent. “I am here to introduce someone.” He gestured to the grand doors. The doors swung open. I rolled in, sitting in a wheelchair pushed by my beautiful wife. My daughter sat on my lap, her arms around my neck. “Daddy,” she chirped. The word echoed in the silent hall. “Caleb… Rivera?!” Elena gasped, dropping her glass. Cameras flashed like lightning. Vivian was the first to recover. She pointed a shaking finger at Isabella. “You trash! Where did you hire these actors? Did you rent the kid too?” Liam laughed nervously. “What kind of bastard claims a convict as a father? Brother, have you no shame?” Richard was trembling with rage. He glanced at the silent Arthur Vance, then roared at me. “Who let this cripple in?! Security! Throw him out!” He turned to Arthur, bowing frantically. “Mr. Vance, please forgive me! This is my estranged, good-for-nothing son! An escaped convict! I disowned him years ago! We will remove this filth immediately!” Guards moved toward my wheelchair. Arthur Vance, who had been a statue of ice, suddenly slammed his cane onto the floor. BANG. “Who dares touch my son-in-law?!” In the rafters, red laser dots appeared on the foreheads of Richard, Vivian, Liam, and every guard who had taken a step. Silence. Absolute, terrifying silence. My father-in-law stood up, ignoring the pale Rivera family, and walked to my side. He placed a hand on my shoulder. “Tonight, I have an announcement.” He looked at the crowd. “From this moment on, the entire Vance empire belongs to my son-in-law, Vince Vance. Formerly known as Caleb Rivera.” Elena stumbled back, her knees giving out.

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My luck turned the day I found a stray poodle. It wasn’t just landing the company’s biggest account and getting a promotion with a hefty raise. The matriarch of a powerful family, Eleanor Wayan, hand-picked me to be her daughter-in-law. She offered me a car, a house, and promised to transfer all her assets to my future child. I was ready to refuse, but then she showed me a photo of her son, who was away on business overseas. And I, a total sucker for a handsome face, was sold. The wedding was arranged in a flash, but the groom missed his flight and didn’t make it. My mother-in-law had me walk down the aisle holding the poodle instead, and to make up for it, she transferred an extra million dollars to my account on the spot. Just like that, I married into high society. A few days later, my roommate pushed me off our apartment building’s rooftop. “We saw that dog together! Why do you get to marry a billionaire while I get nothing?” she screamed, her face twisted with rage. “If you die, I get a do-over!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the beginning. And this time, I let her have the dog. 1 “Oh, you poor little thing! Are you lost?” My roommate, Sophie, who was normally a notorious neat freak, scooped up the filthy poodle that was circling our feet. Before I could even react, she shot me a look, her voice sharp. “Diana, I’m keeping this dog, and you can’t have him!” I saw the fierce determination in her eyes, a stark contrast to how things played out the first time. I knew instantly. She’d been reborn, too. Sophie watched me, a smug smile playing on her lips. “I just feel a connection with this dog, you know? Like he’s a lucky charm. Maybe he’ll bring me good fortune.” She feigned concern. “I know you wanted him too, but you already have two dogs. You probably can’t handle another one, right?” I glanced at the poodle in her arms and gave a nonchalant shrug. “You’re right, I’ve got my hands full. If you want him, he’s all yours.” In my past life, I only took him in because he followed us all the way home. He was a mess, so I gave him a bath and some food out of pity, and he refused to leave. I never imagined that simple act of kindness would completely derail my life. At my words, Sophie could barely contain her glee. “You promise? No take-backs!” she chirped. “Even if he helps me marry… well, anyway, you can’t get jealous!” She caught herself, afraid of revealing too much and making me change my mind. Only after I swore a solemn oath that I wouldn’t regret it did she happily cradle the dog and head home. At that exact moment, a notification materialized in my mind. Congratulations. You have been granted a second chance. Upon the death of the key individual from this timeline, you may return to this moment and change your fate. The message was a revelation. The starting point wasn’t random; it was tethered to this specific moment. And the trigger was simple: the other person’s death. No wonder Sophie had shrieked, If you die, I get a do-over! She’d been given the same chance. But from her reaction just now, it was clear she had no idea I was back, too. The moment I stepped through the apartment door, Sophie blocked my path. “Diana, did you just hear a weird voice?” Her expression was a mix of panic and confusion. I knew exactly what she was talking about, but I just furrowed my brow. “What voice? Is someone breaking in?” “No, not like that. It was… robotic. It said something about a second chance… and death.” I gave her a dismissive look. “Have you been reading too many web novels, Sophie? There’s no such thing as rebirth in the real world. Stop daydreaming.” She scrutinized my face, searching for any hint of a lie. Seeing none, she let out a sigh of relief and headed to her room, humming a cheerful tune. I watched her go, a cold smile touching my lips. She had no idea that some poodles have a dark side. I just hoped she was ready to pay the price for adopting him. 2 That night, just as I was about to go to sleep, a frantic knock rattled my door. “Diana, wash this beast for me, and make sure he’s spotless!” Sophie demanded. For some reason, the mere thought of touching that poodle made my skin crawl. I felt a primal urge to stay away. “I can’t,” I said, my hand on the doorknob. “I have a report to finish for work.” I tried to close the door, but she stuck her hand in the way. “What’s with the attitude?” she snapped. “You’d better watch your tone with me. Don’t be an idiot. Once I’ve made it, you’ll be lucky if I hire you to be my dog’s nanny!” As if on cue, the poodle trotted out of the bathroom and started humping her smooth leg. Sophie let out a cry of disgust and kicked the dog away. It yelped in pain as it hit the corner of the wall. I frowned, my heart twisting with a flicker of pity, but I forced myself to remain cold. “If you can’t handle it, just take him to a groomer. They’re professionals.” After I shut the door, I could hear her cursing me out in the hallway. In the days that followed, she not only started mimicking my style of dress, but she also began bringing the dog to the office. At first, our colleagues cooed about how kind-hearted she was. That lasted less than a day. Sophie didn’t use a leash or a crate, and the poodle, clearly in heat, became a menace. He was peeing everywhere, leaving little presents under desks, and constantly trying to mount people’s legs. “Sophie, can you please control your dog? Look, he got my pants all wet!” “Ugh, he just tipped over my trash can and now there’s garbage everywhere.” “Damn it, Sophie! He just shredded the documents I finished printing!” Sophie ignored the chorus of complaints. Our manager was already on edge because a major client was scheduled for a visit that day. When he walked in and saw the state of the office, he exploded. “Sophie, who the hell gave you permission to bring a pet to work?” he roared. “Do you have any idea how important today’s client is? The company’s entire second half depends on this deal! You have ten minutes to clean this mess up, or you can take your dog and get out!” But Sophie was completely unfazed. She wasn’t even afraid of the manager she used to tremble before. “I know exactly who’s coming,” she said with an air of superiority. “That’s precisely why I brought my dog today.” She smirked. “And just so you all know, without me, you won’t be closing that deal. So I’d advise you to stop yelling at me. Otherwise, when this is all over, I might just make sure you don’t have a manager’s job to yell from.” A stunned silence fell over the office, followed by snickers of derision. “Has she lost her mind? She’s just an intern, talking to the manager like that.” “I think she’s finally cracked. Earlier, she was going on about marrying into a rich family and telling us not to get on her bad side.” “She’s delusional. Her? The girl who budgets every single takeout order? Marry into wealth? The only ‘rich’ she’s getting is rich in crazy.” But I knew. I knew Sophie wasn’t bluffing. Because the important client arriving any minute was the dog’s original owner—Eleanor Wayan, the formidable chairwoman of the Wayan Corporation. The manager, though furious, was a seasoned veteran of the corporate world. Seeing Sophie’s unwavering confidence, he decided to play it safe. “You’d better be right about this, Sophie. Or else…” After ordering the cleaning crew to blitz the office, he straightened his tie just as Eleanor Wayan walked in, flanked by a group of executives. The poodle immediately scampered over to her, nipping at her trouser leg and yapping excitedly. Eleanor Wayan’s expression shifted, and a wave of panic washed over the room. The manager rushed forward, bowing his head. “Mrs. Wayan, I am so terribly sorry. I’ll handle this immediately. Sophie, get over—” But before he could finish, Eleanor bent down and lifted the poodle into her arms. She examined it closely for a moment before turning to Sophie. “Is this your dog?” Sophie stepped forward, her voice a picture of shy humility. “I’m so sorry, ma’am. He’s usually very well-behaved. He’s such a poor, sweet thing. He would have starved to death if I hadn’t found him. Please, don’t hurt him.” Eleanor’s eyes scanned Sophie from head to toe. “Hurt him? Why would I do that? On the contrary, I should be thanking you for taking him in. This is my lost dog.” Her voice was smooth as silk. “You have a kind heart. Name your reward. Anything you want, I can provide.” Watching the scene unfold from this new perspective, I couldn’t shake a strange feeling. Eleanor’s gaze wasn’t one of gratitude or admiration. It felt… predatory. As if she were a hunter, dangling the perfect bait to lure her prey. Sophie suppressed a shiver of excitement, her face lighting up with feigned surprise. “Really? What a coincidence! I only took him in because I fell in love with him, I never expected anything in return.” She paused, as if struck by a brilliant idea. “But if you really want to thank me, maybe you could give our company’s proposal a serious look during the meeting. I’m the one who pulled all-nighters for weeks to write it.” The people around us gasped, their eyes darting to Sophie in disbelief. 3 Someone started to speak up, but the manager silenced them with a sharp glare. Eleanor Wayan seemed momentarily surprised by the request, then nodded. “Since you’re in charge of the project, let’s just sign the contract. I’m sure a person as kind as you must be equally dedicated to her work.” She turned to leave, then paused at the door and looked back. “Sophie, was it? Join me for dinner tonight. I’ll have my driver pick you up.” The look of pure ecstasy on Sophie’s face was impossible to miss. Our manager beamed as he escorted Eleanor out. The moment she was gone, he turned to the staff and announced Sophie’s immediate promotion from intern to full-time employee. “Diana,” he said, his tone brisk. “Hand over your files to Sophie. She’ll be handling the project from here on out. You’re off it.” “But sir, that proposal was—” one of my colleagues started to protest on my behalf. I saw the manager’s face darken and quickly grabbed my friend’s arm, shaking my head. I gathered my materials and handed them to Sophie. The manager’s expression softened instantly. “See? Diana understands the bigger picture. When the company thrives, we all thrive.” After he left, Sophie sauntered over to my desk, preening like a peacock. “I bet you’re regretting it now, aren’t you, Diana? Too bad. You’re the one who gave him up,” she gloated. “Are you angry? Do you feel humiliated? Watching a project you slaved over for six months become mine? Good. I’m glad. This is payback for refusing to help me yesterday!” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “Just so you know, I’m going to be Mrs. Julian Wayan very soon. And you? You’ll be stuck as a corporate drone, slogging through a 9-to-5 for the rest of your life!” Then she turned to the rest of the office. “And as for the rest of you peasants, you’d better start showing me some respect. Once I’m a Wayan, if I’m in a good mood, I might throw a big client or two your way.” With that, she flounced out of the office. Her arrogant demeanor left a bitter taste in everyone’s mouth, and the complaints started immediately. “She found a lost dog, so what? The woman is repaying a favor, and Sophie actually thinks she’s about to become a princess?” “What is wrong with her? Stealing Diana’s project and acting like one stroke of dumb luck makes her better than everyone else.” “She’s living in a fantasy world. A rich woman says a few polite words, and suddenly she thinks finding the dog means she gets to marry into the family? Get real!” “Don’t let it get to you, Diana,” a colleague said, patting my shoulder. “We’ll just wait for reality to hit and watch her come crawling back.” I just smiled without saying a word. Because I knew that tonight, Eleanor Wayan really would ask Sophie to be her daughter-in-law. That’s why she was acting so invincible, looking down on all of us. But a marriage born from a lost dog… could it really be that simple? Sure enough, two days later, Sophie appeared at the office, dripping in jewels and designer clothes, handing out wedding invitations. She stopped at my desk, looking down at me with disdain. “Diana, you must be dying to come to my high-society wedding, right? After all, some people will never get to see something like this in their entire lives.” I kept my voice even. “Sophie, I hear Mr. Wayan is still overseas. You haven’t even met him. Don’t you think it’s a bit rushed to be holding a wedding now? What if—” She cut me off with a sharp laugh. “Ha! I’ve seen pictures of Julian. He’s gorgeous and rich. Why wouldn’t I marry him? My mother-in-law said that even though it’s last minute, it will be a wedding fit for a queen. You’re just jealous because you can’t have what I have!” Seeing she was beyond reason, I dropped the subject. As she held out the embossed invitation, I reached for it, but at the last second, she let it go. It fluttered to the floor, and she promptly pinned it under her sharp stiletto heel. “Want it? Polish my shoe, and it’s yours.” I didn’t really want the invitation, but there were too many unanswered questions from my past life. I needed to get inside that hotel. After a few seconds of tense silence, I knelt down and wiped the dust from her shoe. Seeing me humbled before her, Sophie burst out laughing. “That’s more like it!” She gave my shoulder a light kick with her other foot before putting on her sunglasses and striding away. 4 The wedding day arrived, and the venue was decorated exactly as I remembered. And, just like last time, the groom had missed his flight. The hall buzzed with whispers and speculation. Before Eleanor could even make an announcement, Sophie stepped forward and bravely offered to complete the ceremony by herself. Eleanor, who had likely been planning to suggest the same thing, was impressed by Sophie’s “understanding” nature. She agreed immediately and transferred another million dollars to Sophie’s account as a gift. With Julian absent, the reception ended with Sophie heading to the bridal suite alone, clutching the poodle. I immediately pulled out my phone and opened the live feed from the hidden camera. Following the map of my past life’s memories, I had slipped into the room earlier while the staff was distracted and planted it. On the screen, Sophie was giddy, rolling around on the large red bedspread as she stared at the new balance in her bank account. A moment later, Eleanor came in, handed her a glass of milk, and told her to get some rest. Soon after, Sophie was fast asleep, still in her wedding dress. In my first life, I had also drunk that milk and passed out. I woke up the next morning to find my clothes strewn across the floor and my body covered in strange marks. Now, finally, I was about to see what really happened after I fell asleep. The next thing that appeared on the screen made my eyes go wide. I stared in shock as a shimmering, spectral figure of a man materialized over the bed. He began to caress Sophie, his ghostly hands expertly unfastening her dress. His expression was lecherous, and he muttered filth under his breath. “Been a while since I had a taste of a woman… God, I’ve been dying for this.” “So soft… and you smell so good… Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you…” Then, as if remembering something, he backhanded her across the face. “Bitch. You dared to kick me, again and again. Let’s see how you like it when I teach you a lesson!” Even though he was just a phantom, angry red welts immediately appeared on Sophie’s sleeping face. The voice was familiar, and as I studied the phantom’s outline, I realized he looked exactly like Julian Wayan from the photographs. In my past life, when I’d discovered the marks on my body, I had asked Eleanor about them. She’d explained that her son, Julian, had returned during the night. They had consummated the marriage, but he’d had to leave again for an urgent matter. As it was my first time, I was inexperienced and too embarrassed to question a senior about such things, so I let it go. I never could have imagined that the “consummation” she spoke of was with a ghost. The phantom’s actions grew rougher. He ripped the skirt of her gown away, showing no hint of tenderness. But just as he was about to descend upon her, he froze. His eyes narrowed, turning sinister. “Damn it. You filthy whore!” he hissed. “I thought you were pure, but you’re foul! What a waste of my time.” I frowned, confused. A moment ago he was saying how good she smelled. Why was he suddenly calling her foul? Perhaps Julian’s enraged shouts were too loud, because Eleanor soon entered the room. Seeing Sophie’s body now covered in bruises from Julian’s spectral blows, she rushed to intervene. “Son, what’s wrong?” she asked urgently. “We finally found a suitable woman. Take it easy! If you damage her body, how is she supposed to carry the child?” Julian was seething. “Suitable? She’s not suitable at all! We’ve been deceived!” he raged. “Mother, she’s faking it! She reeks of impurity. There’s no way she can bear the child.” This only confused me more. I had no idea if Sophie was “foul” or not, but what did that have to do with having a child? Their next exchange gave me the answer. Eleanor frowned, sniffing the air. “Foul? I don’t smell anything.” “Mother, would I lie to you? Don’t you remember the master opened my spiritual senses? I can tell if a woman is a virgin just by her scent,” Julian’s voice echoed. “This woman must have been covering her stench with perfume. Now that her clothes are off, the filth is overwhelming. God knows how many men she’s been with.” His voice filled with despair. “Mother, what do we do? We chose the wrong one!” Eleanor looked equally bewildered. “How could that be? The master was clear: at that specific time and place, we would find a virgin with a pure life essence, perfect for you. He said she would be kind-hearted, soft, and a lover of animals, and that she would surely take you home.” She looked from the ghost to the poodle. “Everything matched the time and place where Sophie found you. How could it be wrong?” Hearing this, I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle a scream. If what they were saying was true, then their original target… was me. It was only because of my rebirth that Sophie had intercepted their plan. But even if I had this “pure life essence,” why were they so desperate for me to have Julian’s child? What they said next sent a chill down my spine, freezing the blood in my veins.

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I gave up a faculty position at MIT to return home and grind for five years at my family’s company. I finally took it public. But at the bell-ringing ceremony, my parents pushed a girl who looked startlingly like them onto the stage. “Evelyn,” my mother said, her voice devoid of warmth, “the nurse made a mistake all those years ago. Chloe is our real daughter.” “You should move out tomorrow,” my father added, his tone clipped. “And before you go, remember to settle the bill for your upbringing.” “Finding a job is tough these days,” my mother continued, offering a sliver of false pity. “Out of respect for our years together, you can stay on as a janitor.” Chloe smiled, lifting the ceremonial mallet, her voice laced with unconcealed triumph. “Thank you, Eva, for every project you’ve developed these past five years. All your patents are registered under my name now.” She leaned in, her smile turning cruel. “But I don’t like strangers in my house. You should leave as soon as possible.” Amid the sympathetic glances from the guests, I let out a low laugh. A pack of fools. If I had the power to make you, I most certainly have the power to break you. 1 I calmly pushed through the crowd and walked out of the stock exchange’s grand, gilded doors. I hailed a taxi, giving the address of the villa I had called home for over twenty years. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror. He probably recognized me; the IPO ceremony had been broadcast live across every network. He didn’t say a word, just quietly turned off the financial news station that was playing on the radio. I leaned my head against the cool glass, watching the city’s neon lights streak past. My phone buzzed relentlessly. I didn’t need to look. It was the media, vultures circling for the first taste of a fresh scandal. I simply turned it off. The taxi pulled up to the gates of the villa community. From a distance, I could see them: two large suitcases and a cardboard box, standing alone and abandoned just outside the main gate. A cold smirk touched my lips. Their efficiency was truly impressive. They couldn’t bear the thought of me spending another second in that house. I dragged the suitcases to the front door, my thumb moving instinctively toward the fingerprint scanner. Beep. Access denied. Please contact the administrator. The electronic voice was as cold as ice. The irony was thick enough to choke on. I had personally designed and implemented this entire security system, from the hardware to the software. The so-called “administrator” with supreme access had always been me. To think I would be locked out by my own creation. Fine. It saved me the trouble of playing a part in their saccharine family drama. I sat down on the ground, cross-legged, and opened my laptop. With practiced ease, I navigated to the company’s internal server backend. I wanted to see just how thoroughly they had stolen my life’s work. I entered the administrator account and password I had used for five years. But instead of the familiar interface, a stark red window popped up: User does not exist. They were thorough, I’ll give them that. Just as I was contemplating my next move, the phone in my pocket, which I had powered down, suddenly lit up. A number I thought I would never see again. 2 The encrypted call request flashed on the screen for less than three seconds before it vanished. It was so quick I might have imagined it. The screen went dark again, returning to its powered-off state. I tried to turn it back on, but the phone was completely dead. A bitter smile played on my lips. First things first, I needed a place to stay. I hailed another cab and went to a decent-looking budget hotel nearby. “A room, please,” I said, handing my ID to the receptionist. “Certainly. That will be three hundred and sixty-eight, plus a five-hundred-dollar deposit. How will you be paying?” “Card,” I said, pulling out the bank card I had used for years. It was a secondary card linked to Richard Ashworth’s account, where all my salary and project bonuses had been deposited. The receptionist inserted the card into the terminal. Beep-beep-beep! The machine let out a series of sharp, frantic alarms. The young woman paused, tried again, and got the same result. She looked at me, her expression apologetic. “Ma’am, I’m sorry, but there seems to be a problem with this card. It’s not going through.” A knot formed in my stomach. “Try this one.” I took out my personal debit card from my wallet. I’d had it since college. It held my scholarship money and earnings from side projects—not much, but more than enough for a few nights in a hotel. The result was the same. “This one isn’t working either…” the receptionist’s voice trailed off. I had no choice but to ask her to let me charge my phone for a few minutes. As soon as it powered on, a text from the bank popped up. “Dear Ms. Evelyn Ashworth, pursuant to a request filed by Mr. Richard Ashworth, all bank cards registered under your name have been frozen in connection with a ‘child support recovery’ claim. Total amount…” I laughed. Richard Ashworth had missed his calling; he would have made a brilliant accountant. So, a hotel was out of the question. I dragged my suitcases back onto the street. The night wind was sharp, and a chill crept into my bones. I opened my phone and found Mark’s number. He was the lead programmer, my protégé. He was always the first to call me “Boss Eva,” his tone thick with admiration. The phone rang for a long time before he picked up. “Hello? Mark, it’s me.” The line was dead silent, save for the faint sound of breathing. “I need your help. Can you get me the original development logs for the Genesis system—” “Sorry, you have the wrong number.” He cut me off flatly and hung up. In disbelief, I dialed another core member of my team. The number was disconnected. The people I had fought alongside, the ones with whom I’d pulled all-nighters fueled by instant noodles, sharing the joy of every solved problem—they either hung up, turned off their phones, or vanished into thin air. They had cut me off at the knees. It was a viciously effective move. I stood at a crossroads, watching the endless stream of headlights, and for the first time, I felt a flicker of true desolation. No money, no home, and the comrades I once trusted were now my enemies. He really wanted to destroy me. 3 I dragged my two suitcases through the late-night streets for so long that my legs went numb. Finally, I stopped in front of a narrow alleyway, bathed in the glow of a seedy neon sign. Scrawled on the wall in crooked red paint were the words: Single Room, 300/Month. Fine. This would have to do. The landlady was a woman with a cigarette dangling from her lips. She gave my designer clothes and expensive-looking luggage a strange look but eventually tossed a greasy key at me. One month’s rent, one month’s deposit. Cash only. I emptied my wallet of the last few bills I had and, in return, received a space of less than a hundred square feet. A plank bed, a desk with peeling paint, and a single lightbulb that flickered erratically. The walls were covered in stains left by previous tenants, and the air was a thick mixture of damp mold and cheap perfume. I lay down on the hard bed, fully clothed, and stared at the stubbornly flashing bulb. I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, I was jolted awake by a commotion. The sound of shuffling feet in the hallway was mixed with a woman’s shrieks and a man’s angry shouts. I ignored it until the knocking started on my door. Bang, bang, bang! The knocking was urgent, impatient, and certain of a response. Assuming it was the landlady, I got up to open the door. When I pulled it open, I froze. It was Chloe. Her makeup was flawless, and against the grimy, decaying backdrop of the hallway, she looked like a princess who had stumbled into the slums. Behind her stood a crowd of reporters, their cameras and microphones all pointed directly at me. The flashbulbs went off, a blinding, popping cacophony that made my eyes ache. “Eva,” Chloe’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “How could you be living in a place like this? Mom, Dad, and I have been worried sick!” She reached for my hand, but I stepped aside, and she was left grasping at air. She didn’t miss a beat, pulling a thick envelope from her purse and shoving it into my hand in full view of the cameras. “I know things are hard for you right now,” she said, her voice cracking with emotion. “Mom and Dad wanted me to give you this. Take it, find a better place to live. Please don’t do this to yourself.” Her performance was masterful. “And don’t worry, as long as you apologize to Mom and Dad, admit you were wrong, our door will always be open for you.” I looked at her, and a strange sense of amusement washed over me. “Chloe,” I began, my voice hoarse from a night without water, “do you really think everyone in the world is as stupid as you are?” Her expression faltered, the tears in her eyes wobbling precariously. “Eva, how can you say that? I’m just trying to help…” “Cut the act,” I interrupted. “Bringing a pack of reporters to ‘visit’ me? Were you afraid I wasn’t dying a sufficiently humiliating death, so you came to twist the knife? Or is your ‘genius girl’ persona crumbling so fast you need to climb on my corpse to stay afloat?” The color drained from Chloe’s face. She couldn’t believe that even in this state, I still had the audacity to speak to her like this. She took a deep breath, dropping the pitiful act. She stepped closer, her voice a venomous whisper only I could hear. “Evelyn, you should know when you’re beaten. You have nothing left. How are you going to fight me? Do you believe that with a single word, I can make it so you can’t even stay in a dump like this?” She paused, a cruel smile playing on her lips. “Be a good little nobody. Admit that everything was always mine, and maybe I’ll be merciful and find you a job cleaning toilets. Otherwise, you can just wait to starve to death on the street.” With that, she reverted to her innocent, benevolent facade and sighed for the cameras. “Eva, please, think about it.” She and her media entourage swept away, leaving me in the sudden silence. I closed the door, the murmurs outside slowly fading. Starve to death? Clean toilets? I walked to the only mirror in the room. The woman staring back at me was a wreck. Her hair was a mess, her eyes were shot with red, and she looked like a ghost. But those eyes, even in the dim, flickering light, burned with a terrifying intensity. 4 Chloe’s departure didn’t bring peace. The landlady in the hallway, the cashier at the corner store—they all gave me second glances, whispering to each other as I passed. I didn’t have to guess; the internet was on fire again. I locked myself in my tiny room and opened my laptop. A moment later, an unfamiliar encrypted communication request popped up on the screen. The interface was retro, a program Jimmy Vance and I had coded for fun back in college. The encryption key was known only to the two of us. We hadn’t used it since graduation. I accepted the request. A line of text appeared in the chatbox, written in his familiar, devil-may-care tone. “Well, well. Dr. Ashworth. How does it feel to be an international celebrity?” I could practically see Jimmy’s smirk, his eyebrows raised in that roguish way of his. He was the reigning genius of our class, the only person who could ever match me in a technical duel. After graduation, he went to Wall Street while I returned home. We had slowly lost touch. I was in no mood for jokes. I typed back, “Get to the point.” “Alright, straight shooter. I like it,” he replied instantly. “I did a little pro-bono due diligence on Ashworth Industries in my spare time. Call it a friendly favor. Found something interesting. Your tech reports and financial data don’t add up. Especially those new core patents you just announced. The theoretical models are beautiful, but the underlying architecture… tsk, tsk. It’s a house of cards. No way it can support that stock price.” My heart sank. Jimmy continued, “Then I saw the news. My guess is, the real tech guru is hiding in a corner somewhere, contemplating the meaning of life. Am I right?” I remained silent. He knew everything. “Send me your account number,” his next message popped up. “Any problem that can be solved with money isn’t a problem. And if it can’t be solved, it just means you’re not using enough money.” I managed a wry smile. “All my accounts are frozen. Besides, I don’t even have a decent computer right now. Money’s useless to me.” They hadn’t just stolen my work; they had severed every possible avenue for a counterattack. Without a workstation, without server access, I had all the skills to slay a dragon but lacked even a rusty sword. The other end was silent for a few seconds. Then, a message appeared that sent a jolt through my entire body. “Who said you don’t have a sword? Did you forget? In the empire you built with your own hands, the throne you made for yourself is still there.” My mind went blank. “Evelyn, did you work yourself stupid?” “The creator’s backdoor to the Genesis system. You forgot?” I felt the blood rush to my head, my fingertips tingling. How could I have forgotten? To protect against corporate espionage and external hacks, I had built a backdoor into the deepest layer of the Genesis system’s logic. It was completely independent of all administrative controls and held the highest possible level of clearance. Its activation key was a string of impossibly long, randomized code integrated with my personal biometric data. In the entire world, only I knew it. Richard and Chloe thought that by deleting my admin account and revoking my privileges, they were safe. They thought that by taking my keys, they owned the house. They had no idea that I was the architect of the entire building. And at any moment, I could pull the foundation out from under it.

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A taming system fell from the sky, and I immediately used it on the campus heartthrob. “Call me Your Majesty!” “Take a walk with me.” “Let me touch you!” He never resisted, letting me do as I pleased. I was quite satisfied. Until I saw him holding hands with his childhood sweetheart by the lake… I was sick with jealousy. So I activated my power, pinned him to the sofa, tore at his clothes, and kissed him senseless. When I’d had my fill and was about to leave, he wrapped his arms around my waist. “Well? Aren’t you going to take responsibility for that?” I was stunned. I screamed at the system in my head. It blinked and stuck out its tongue. “(Tee hee, how embarrassing!) Actually, honey, I don’t have any powers to control people at all~” Me: ?? You son of a bitch, you played me! 1 I have a crush on Duke Shaw. I’ve had a crush on him since high school. But now I’m a sophomore in college, and I still haven’t told him. Because he’s the undisputed campus heartthrob. And I’m… a nobody. I often ask the universe, what’s the harm in making one more girl stunningly beautiful? The universe never answers. Until today. A voice suddenly popped into my head. “(Whimpers) Hello, host! I’m Angel Service System 511.” “Sweetie, can you hear me? 511 is at your service.” “Sweetie? Are you deaf?” … Have I been reading so many web novels that I’ve finally lost my mind? I’m in the middle of a lecture, and my brain is already going haywire?! Unreal. Absolutely insane. But I still found myself replying: “Who are you? What do you want?” System 511 cooed, “Sweetie, I heard your wish, and I’m here to help you make it come true.” My eyes lit up. “Really? Are you here to turn me into a world-class beauty?” “Well, no…” 511 cleared its throat awkwardly. “But honey, I can grant you one ability—the power to tame a person for a designated period of time!” “No matter what you command, they will obey.” That sounded familiar. Like something I’d read in a spicy fanfic. Still, I was thrilled. “Really? They’ll obey any command?” The system’s reply was firm. “Of course, sweetie.” And so… My gaze drifted involuntarily toward Duke Shaw. He was sitting perfectly straight, his tall frame cutting a sharp silhouette. His slightly long hair fell over his forehead, and his eyes were downcast, lost in thought. As if sensing my stare, he suddenly turned his head. I quickly looked away, pretending nothing had happened. The power to tame someone? A very useful power indeed. After all, I’ve been dying to get my hands on Duke for a very long time. 2 511 told me that to use the taming power, I had to follow three rules: One: We had to be alone together. Two: I had to hold his face in my hands and look directly into his eyes to issue a command. Three: The control period could not exceed five minutes. “Okay, got it!” I rubbed my hands together, eager to try. Heh heh, my sweet, unsuspecting prey. Here I come! After class, Duke walked over to me and gave me a light flick on the forehead. “You weren’t paying attention in class. What were you staring at me for?” I rubbed my head, my tone dismissive. “Don’t be so conceited. I was just thinking about what to get for lunch.” Could I really tell you I was plotting how I was going to pounce on you in a few minutes? That would be terrifying. “Perfect. Let’s go to the cafeteria together.” Normally, I would have agreed in a heartbeat. But the cafeteria was always packed. I couldn’t use my power there. So I had to force myself to say no. “Nah, I’m eating with my roommate… but wait for me after your last class! We can walk home together!” “Deal.” As I watched Duke walk away, my heart did a little dance. In high school, my grades were really unbalanced. Our teacher paired me up with Duke, who had the opposite problem, so we could tutor each other in math and English. That’s how we became friends. Honestly, he was already gorgeous back then. A handsome face, a great personality, and tons of friends. He was ridiculously popular. I was always seeing girls from other classes trying to talk to him. Because of our tutoring sessions, Duke was always nice to me. He’d bring me snacks and invite me over to his house to do homework on the weekends. Staring at that handsome face day after day, it wasn’t long before I was completely smitten. But a secret crush is a one-woman war. I once asked him what his ideal type was. He just smiled and said nothing. Undeterred, I asked his friend. His friend pointed to Isabelle Croft, the beautiful valedictorian of our class. He told me Duke was into her. They were childhood friends, a match made in heaven. I was already too scared to confess, and now I knew he liked someone else. So I just studied harder, hoping to close the distance between us, even if just a little. The day our college entrance exam scores came out, I called Duke immediately. When I found out his score was only a few points higher than mine, I was ecstatic. I made him promise to show me his list of college choices before he submitted it. I copied his application, school for school. Finally, we ended up at the same university in our city. And by some stroke of luck, our major only had one freshman class. So Duke and I were classmates once again. It’s been two years. He’s still just as lukewarm towards me as ever. We’re just friends. But… Who wants to be his friend?! 3 After my last class, I deliberately dawdled in the classroom for a good fifteen minutes, waiting for a chance to be alone with him. When all the other students had finally left, Duke looked at me, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Summer, are you planning on taking your entire desk home with you?” 511’s voice suddenly burst into my head. “Host, now’s your chance—” I shot up from my seat, took a deep breath, cupped Duke’s face in my hands, and stared into his eyes. A few seconds later, I spoke. “Obey my command!” Duke blinked, but he didn’t speak or resist. My heart exploded with joy. It actually worked! Normally, he would have called me a lunatic by now. Okay, what command should I give him? I cleared my throat. “Call me Your Majesty!” 511 was speechless. “…Sweetie, are you insane?” I blushed. “It’s just a test run!” Duke looked at me, his perfect lips parting slightly. Then, he spoke, his voice low and clear. “Your Majesty.” I nearly jumped out of my skin with excitement. He actually did it! That was a completely ridiculous request! Oh my God! The system wasn’t lying! I quickly composed myself. There was still time, I couldn’t waste it. I issued my next command. “Walk with me on the athletic track!” The moment the words left my mouth, I regretted them. Five minutes wasn’t nearly enough time for a walk. Just then, 511 swooped in like a superhero. “Go, sweetie! Since this is your first time, I’m giving you a one-time bonus of unlimited time. Go and enjoy yourself!” A bonus offer? This system was the best! Overjoyed, I grabbed Duke’s hand and bolted downstairs. He had no idea how many times I’d gone for a walk after dinner, watching couples stroll hand-in-hand, chatting, or hiding in a corner for a hug and a kiss, and felt a pang of envy. Today, I finally had someone to walk with me. It was perfect. On the track, I held onto the corner of Duke’s shirt, and we walked slowly for half a lap. Then, I slyly reached for his hand. His hand was broad, his fingers long and elegant. Of course, a guy with a face like that would have beautiful hands. I tried to weave my clumsy fingers between his, aiming for the perfect hand-hold. But his knuckles were firm, and he wasn’t exactly helping me out. After a few seconds of struggling, my fingers just hurt. “Stupid hand! What’s the point of being handsome if you can’t even hold a girl’s hand properly?” I playfully smacked the back of his hand. At that, Duke suddenly turned his hand over and laced his fingers tightly with mine. My heart started hammering against my ribs. His palm was warm, maybe even a little sweaty. We were so close I could feel the warmth of his breath on my cheek. My face flushed crimson, and my pulse was racing. 511 was my one-woman hype squad. “Go for it, sweetie! He’s still under your control. He’ll do whatever you say!” I cursed at it in my head. Shut up! But what came out of my mouth was something entirely different. “Kiss me.” Duke froze for a second. Then, he cupped my face in his free hand and slowly leaned down. His soft, beautiful lips brushed against the corner of my mouth. My head spun. I was as red as a boiled lobster. Ahhhhhhhhhhh— I actually kissed Duke Shaw! 4 In the end, I ditched Duke and ran for my life. Yes, I’m that pathetic. I couldn’t face him after he snapped out of it. And I was terrified of what he’d think if he knew what I did to him while he was… not himself. But as soon as I got home, I was filled with regret. If I’d known he wouldn’t fight back, I should have kissed him more, touched him more. What a waste! I buried my face in my pillow, reliving the moment for a while before a new thought struck me. “Wait, I just ran off. Will he be able to get home by himself?” 511 (cute face): “Of course, sweetie! The moment you left, the power automatically deactivated.” That made me feel even worse. “When he came to his senses and realized I’d ditched him, he wasn’t mad, was he?” 511 (pouting face): “Of course not, sweetie! And if you’re worried, I can help you erase his memory of this afternoon.” I shot that down immediately. “No, don’t do that! I don’t want to mess with his head!” That would just make things worse. That weekend, my roommate Maya called me. Her friend in the dorm next door was having a birthday party and she wanted me to go with her. I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. I never expected to see Duke and his roommates there when we arrived at the karaoke lounge. Great minds think alike, I guess. The birthday girl greeted us and then went to pick some songs. Thinking about what I’d done to Duke on Friday, my face burned with embarrassment. Luckily, the room was dimly lit, so no one noticed. Duke and his roommates were playing cards at another table. He looked completely normal and didn’t even say hi. I felt a pang of disappointment. We’ve been classmates for years, and he’s just going to pretend I’m invisible? Jerk. Tomorrow, I’m definitely going to find a chance to punish him with my powers. After singing a few songs, the birthday girl sat down next to Duke, draping an arm over his shoulder. They looked awfully chummy. I was so annoyed I cracked a walnut with my bare fist. Maya popped the nutmeat into her mouth, giving me a sideways glance. “What’s wrong? Jealous?” “You’re just too passive,” she said. “If it were me, I’d go right over there and join them. Who’s afraid of who?” That set me off. “He’s been ignoring me since I walked in! Am I supposed to chase after him and beg for his attention?” Maya looked at me, completely serious. “You’re lucky you have a hot guy to chase. Don’t be so picky.” Me: … “And stalking him like a little thief every day isn’t going to get you anywhere,” she continued, offering some unsolicited advice. “Why don’t you just confess?” I took a swig of beer, my heart full of bitterness. “You think I don’t want to? I’m afraid he’ll reject me, and then we won’t even be able to be friends anymore.” Maya peeled an orange. “So what? It’s not like you’re getting anywhere with him now.” …She had a point. I couldn’t even argue. The birthday girl picked up the microphone and called for everyone’s attention. “Today is my 20th birthday, and I’m so grateful you could all be here to celebrate with me.” “My mom once told me that after a girl turns 20, she can start making her own decisions in life. Even if she regrets them later, at least she’ll have no regrets about not trying!” As she spoke, Maya nudged me, wiggling her eyebrows. “Based on my experience, she’s about to confess to a guy in this room.” “The time, the place, the mood—it’s all perfect!” “Oh, please,” I scoffed. “You think everyone is as shameless as you are?” Maya was undeterred. “Wanna bet? If she confesses, you give me twenty bucks. If not, I give you twenty.” I snorted. “You’re on!”

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A week before my wedding, my fiancé Johnny’s late wife’s sister—the one with Storm Syndrome—ran my car off the road, pinning it against the bridge guardrail. She rammed me eighteen times at seventy-five miles an hour. When Johnny arrived with the ambulance, I was being pulled from a heap of twisted metal. But he ignored me. He wrenched open the door of the modified Hummer—a vehicle that had barely lost its bumper—and pulled a trembling Nina into his arms. “Dr. Croft, she’s in bad shape,” one of the paramedics said, gesturing to me. “We need to get her to the hospital now.” Johnny blocked my stretcher, his eyes giving me a quick, dismissive scan. “There’s not a drop of blood on her. It’s just superficial. Nina has Storm Syndrome, and the rain’s getting worse. Her condition is more critical. Take her first.” As they left me behind, I curled into a ball, my fingers weakly clutching at Johnny’s coat. He frowned, prying my hand away. “Nina didn’t mean to hit you. She was having an episode. You’re a doctor, Andrea. You should have some compassion for a patient.” Then, he pulled a legal waiver from his pocket, took my limp hand, and forced my signature onto the paper. “The next ambulance will be here soon,” he said. “Just hang on.” 1 I never made it to the next ambulance. When I opened my eyes again, I was floating in the air. The cold rain soaked the body that lay abandoned below, and I reached out, wanting to hug myself for warmth, but my arms passed straight through. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. So, I was dead. Johnny was right about one thing: I was a doctor. I knew exactly what eighteen impacts at seventy-five miles per hour meant. It meant Nina never intended for me to survive. And yet he, the renowned Chief of Internal Medicine at Bridgewater General, could determine with a single glance that I had nothing more than a few scratches. I should have known better than to hold on to any hope. When it came to Nina, nothing else mattered. Not even my life. In the distance, the wail of another siren grew closer. Paramedics leaped from the vehicle, sprinting through the downpour towards me. I watched as they loaded my body, limp as a ragdoll, onto a stretcher. I heard their frantic shouts, the constant injections of epinephrine, the rhythmic whine and shock of the defibrillator. None of it could stop the flat line on the heart monitor. “Tell dispatch to clear a path!” the lead paramedic yelled. “Notify the hospital to prep for surgery! Patient is critical!” But the nurse’s three calls to the hospital were all rejected. Her eyes reddened with fury and frustration. “What the hell? Isn’t Dr. Vance his fiancée? How can he divert all hospital resources to a woman who doesn’t even have a scratch on her?” Her voice broke with a sob. “Dr. Vance is dying.” A heavy silence fell over the ambulance crew. They all knew. At the Croft family’s hospital, a private, high-end suite was permanently reserved for Nina. She was the sister of Johnny’s late wife. She’d supposedly watched her sister get brutally murdered during a storm while trying to save her, and ever since, she’d suffered from severe Storm Syndrome. Every time it rained, she would have a complete breakdown, and only Johnny’s presence could calm her. As his fiancée, I had been forced to reschedule our wedding ten times because of Nina’s “episodes.” I had finally snapped. “She has an ‘episode’ if it drizzles, another one if there’s a clap of thunder. Are you sure she really sees you as just a brother-in-law?” The sting of Johnny’s slap surprised even him. He looked away, his face rigid. “If you can’t accept Nina, then this marriage isn’t set in stone.” I stared at him, a sharp pain piercing my heart. I tilted my head back, fighting it, but tears streamed down my face anyway. After three days of his cold shoulder, I caved. I had planned a surprise for him, a way to make up. But on my way to the hospital to find him, Nina had rammed my car until I was dead. My memories as a soul were fragmented, flickering. I felt like I’d forgotten something important. But my spirit was already drifting uncontrollably, pulled toward Johnny. In the VIP suite, the room was so crowded with white coats you could hardly see the floor. “Dr. Croft, the tests show Miss Nina is perfectly fine. You can rest assured,” a specialist reported. But even with a room full of experts guaranteeing her safety, Nina clung to Johnny, her eyes red and puffy as she trembled. “Johnny… the rain is so loud. There are bad people out there… I’m scared…” Just as Johnny was about to reply, his phone rang. It was my colleague from the surgical department. The moment Nina saw the caller ID, she shrieked, snatched the phone, and smashed it against the floor. “Bad people! Andrea is a bad person! She wants to kill me! Help me, Johnny, save me!” Forgetting the phone completely, Johnny wrapped his arms around the hysterical girl, his heart aching for her. “Shh, Nina, it’s okay. Andrea won’t come here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Nina buried her face in his chest, her arms tightening around his neck as she sobbed and laughed. “Don’t leave me, Johnny. Stay with me forever. You’re mine, only mine. Andrea is trying to steal you. She’s evil. She should just die…” “Alright,” he murmured, patting her back, soothing her until she cried herself to sleep. “She’s evil. She can die.” Back in his office, he pulled the shattered phone from his pocket, the screen cracked and dark. He pinched the bridge of his nose, exhausted. He was about to use his desk phone to ask about me when a nurse rushed in. “Dr. Croft, we have an emergency surgery. A car crash victim, multiple organ ruptures. They need you immediately.” Johnny started to stand, then paused. “What’s the weather forecast?” he asked. The nurse checked her phone. “Rain all day. Looks like it’ll last for the next two days.” He nodded, settling back into his chair. “Have Dr. Peterson take it. Tell them I have a patient here I can’t leave. And cancel all my appointments for the next two days.” “But, sir,” the nurse hesitated, speaking softly, “you’re the only one here who has successfully performed this procedure.” Johnny’s voice turned to ice. “Can this hospital not function without me? Now get out. For the next two days, don’t bother me with anything or anyone unless it concerns Nina.” The nurse wanted to say more, but she left, defeated. I huddled in the corner, blinking. Something warm trickled from my eyes. It felt like blood, or maybe tears. Trapped in the crushed car, all I could think was: Johnny, this wedding you never wanted… just like you wished, it’s not happening anymore. For the next two days, Johnny stayed by Nina’s side twenty-four-seven, catering to her every whim, coddling her endlessly. In the quiet moments of the night, he would sometimes pull out his dead phone and press the useless power button. I knew what he was thinking. I, who had loved him more than life itself, had never gone two days without contacting him. Even during our worst fights, I was always the one to apologize within hours. This loss of control was making him uneasy. He rubbed his temples, a familiar headache building. He opened his desk drawer, but the custom migraine medication I’d learned to make for him from an old herbalist was gone. He immediately buzzed the nurse’s station. “Has anyone been looking for me?” he asked, his voice tight with irritation. “You canceled all your appointments, sir. No one has come by.” He had given the order himself, but an inexplicable frustration welled up inside him, heavy and suffocating. He slammed the phone down. Shoving the dead device back into the drawer, he slammed it shut. Walking past the nurse’s station later, he paused. He borrowed a nurse’s phone and sent me a text. “Andrea, there’s a limit to this drama. You got bumped a few times, you didn’t even bleed. How dare you play hard to get with me? If you’ve got the guts, then never contact me again.” I floated beside him, a bitter smile on my face. It was my own desperate love that had made him so confident, so certain I could never leave him. But this time, I really was gone for good. That afternoon, the sky cleared. Nina was back to her normal self, her eyes welling with tears as she played the victim. “Johnny, I swear I didn’t know I would lose control and hit Andrea’s car. I should go apologize to her. I’ll do anything she wants, as long as she forgives me.” “It’s fine,” Johnny said, his mind elsewhere. “It looked worse than it was. Not a scratch on you, so she’s probably fine too. She’ll understand it wasn’t your fault.” “But… what if she calls the police?” Johnny smiled, stroking her hair. “Don’t worry. I already had her sign a waiver. It’s over. You have nothing to do with it.” Nina beamed, rubbing her cheek against his hand like a cat, her eyes full of adoration. “I knew you’d take care of me, Johnny.” Her intense gaze seemed to burn him. He snatched his hand back. “Nina, I’m marrying Andrea soon. You shouldn’t call me by my first name like that anymore. You’re still my sister-in-law. Call me Johnny. Andrea will be your sister. We’ll both take care of you.” Nina bit her lip, a flash of malice in her eyes, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a mask of sweet obedience. As Johnny left the room, he overheard two nurses talking. “Dr. Croft is so devoted to his fiancée. She gets into a little fender-bender and he mobilizes the whole hospital for her. They’re such a perfect couple.” “I know, right? I heard a car crash victim was brought in two days ago, organs completely shredded. Didn’t even have anyone to sign the paperwork for the body. It just goes to show, some people have all the luck.” Johnny frowned, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. “The patient in that room,” he said, his voice strained, “is not my fiancée.” He paused, then added, “My fiancée is Dr. Andrea Vance, from Surgery.” He froze, surprised by his own words. He was Johnny Croft, a man who had never cared for gossip and never bothered to explain himself. Because of that, everyone in the hospital—except for a few colleagues in our respective departments—thought I was just some pathetic, shameless woman clinging to him. His admirers had given me cruel nicknames, thrown hot soup on me. They once cornered me in an empty restroom and dumped a bucket of live frogs over my head, laughing at my screams. They called me a shameless gold-digger reaching for the stars. Countless times, I had begged Johnny to just say something, to clarify our relationship. He always brushed me off. “It’s just words, Andrea. You’re not going to melt. Stop being so dramatic.” But when a new intern had offhandedly remarked that Nina’s Storm Syndrome seemed “a little fake,” that intern vanished from Bridgewater the next day. That’s when I learned that he knew how to protect someone. It just wasn’t me. I clutched at my empty chest, laughing silently until tears streamed down my face. How ironic. The public acknowledgment I had craved my entire relationship, I received so easily in death. Johnny ignored the nurses’ shocked faces, pushing down the rising panic in his chest as he hurried toward his office. He needed to confirm something. Urgently. He nearly collided with Dr. Peterson at the door. “Johnny, you look like you’re in a hurry. Off to see Dr. Vance, I presume?” Johnny froze for a second. Peterson’s words lifted the crushing weight from his heart. His expression hardened into a sneer. “You were the one who took her case?” Dr. Peterson nodded, sighing. “It’s been a while. You should probably go deal with it.” “Deal with what? The fact that she’s milking this for all it’s worth?” Johnny scoffed. “I’ve given her too much slack. It was a minor accident. Nina, who’s a hundred times more fragile, is perfectly fine. Andrea’s built like an ox and she’s pretending to be on her deathbed? She made Nina cry with guilt, and now she has the nerve to send you here to plead her case?” Dr. Peterson stared, dumbfounded. It took him a moment to process what Johnny was saying. A storm of fury gathered in his eyes. He grabbed Johnny by the collar. “I thought you were just quiet, a man of few words. I assumed you at least had a shred of human decency. I never realized you were such a monster.” “You’re an animal, Croft. Andrea falling for you was the worst luck of her life.” “Do you have any idea what happened in that crash? Do you know that Andrea is already…” Johnny shoved him away, disgusted. “Already what? Don’t tell me you’re going to say she’s dead?” Dr. Peterson stood frozen. Seeing his reaction, Johnny’s face twisted into a knowing, sarcastic smirk. “She’d better be. If she thinks pulling a cheap stunt like this will stir up drama and upset Nina, then I hope her wish comes true.” He straightened his collar. “Go tell her she made a mistake and she needs to face the consequences. If I don’t see her apologizing to Nina by tomorrow, the wedding is off.” With that, he turned and left, shattered phone in hand. Dr. Peterson stood behind him, his face pale with rage, and muttered, “Good. A monster like you never deserved a woman like Andrea anyway.” Fuming, Johnny dropped his phone at a repair shop, paid triple the price for a one-hour fix, and went home. “Andrea…” The apartment was silent. No familiar aroma of dinner cooking, no gentle voice answering him. A chilling emptiness wrapped around him as he stood in the doorway. Without even taking off his shoes, he bolted for the bedroom. He saw all my clothes, my skincare products, everything exactly where it should be. Only then did he slump to the floor, a wave of relief washing over him. A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched his lips—that familiar, confident smirk I knew so well. He was so sure of my love for him, so certain I would never, ever leave. He pulled out his newly repaired phone and, as if bestowing a great favor, sent me a text. “You’re the one who’s been lying and playing dead, Andrea. Come home and apologize properly, and I’ll forgive you.” The message was met with silence. His face hardened. He sent another. “Reply in thirty minutes, or the wedding is canceled.” Thirty minutes passed. An hour. The silence in the apartment felt thick, heavy, like waterlogged cotton, pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe. Just when I thought his patience had finally run out, he stood up, opened the fridge, and started cooking. Half an hour later, three of my favorite dishes were on the table. He took a picture and sent it to me. “I told you I had to help Nina first because she was having an episode. You were barely touched, but she was terrified. Can’t you see what’s more important?” He took a deep breath, as if making a monumental concession. “You don’t have to apologize this time. But don’t let it happen again. We’re about to be married, Andrea. Stop being so childish. Come home. We’ll eat, and then we’ll go get the marriage license.” The moment he sent the text, a call came through. It was Nina, her voice a piercing shriek. “Johnny, Andrea’s trying to kill me! Get away! Help! Aaaah!” When Johnny burst into the hospital room, it was in chaos. A speaker on the nightstand was playing the white noise of a rainstorm on a loop. Nina was huddled in a corner, screaming hysterically anytime someone got near. Johnny rushed over, gathering her into his arms, his heart aching. “Nina, don’t be afraid. I’m here.” Her face was ashen, streaked with tears. “Andrea called me a whore, a homewrecker! She said my sister deserved to die! She sent me this audio, she said if I don’t stay away from you, she’ll make sure I die just like my sister did, tortured and…” “Johnny, I’m so scared! Am I a homewrecker? Are you going to leave me, just like my sister did?” I stared at Nina, stunned by the sheer artistry of her performance. She was the one who had killed me, and now, after my death, she was dragging my name through the mud. I could still see her eyes through the shattered windshield as she slammed the accelerator—colder and more venomous than a snake’s. She wasn’t having an episode. She was perfectly lucid. She wanted me dead. I looked at Johnny, praying that our three years together meant something, that even if he never chose me, he at least knew I wasn’t capable of such cruelty. But I had forgotten. When it came to Nina, I was worth nothing. Johnny’s face was terrifyingly calm. He turned off the white noise and stared at the phone number the text had supposedly come from—my number. His eyes grew colder and colder. He gently lifted Nina, placed her on the bed, and wiped away her tears with a tenderness I had never seen. “You’re not the homewrecker, Nina,” he said softly. “Andrea is.” With that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the custom diamond ring we’d chosen together, the one meant to symbolize our ‘one true love,’ the one we were supposed to exchange at our wedding in three days. Without a moment’s hesitation, he slipped it onto Nina’s ring finger. “From now on,” he declared, “you will be my bride.” Nina tried to hide her triumphant glee, feigning panic. “But… Andrea is your fiancée. She’s been waiting to marry you. If I wear her ring, won’t she hate me even more?” “She dares?” Johnny sneered. “If she has the audacity to insult your sister and threaten you, then she’d better be prepared for the consequences.” “Not only am I not marrying her, I’m going to have her blacklisted from the medical community. A person as vile as her doesn’t deserve to wear that white coat.” He immediately pulled out his phone. He sent me one last ultimatum. “You have five minutes to get here and kneel before Nina to apologize.” When no reply came, Johnny’s patience finally snapped. A cruel smile spread across his face. The man who had always disdained using his power and influence was, for Nina, now pulling every string he had. Bypassing all official channels, he used his authority as the heir to the Croft Corporation to issue a nationwide industry ban against me. My entire life’s work—countless sleepless nights, years of relentless effort to earn the career I loved more than anything—was gone. Erased by a single, careless command. Nina finally broke into a radiant smile, nestling contentedly into his arms. “I knew you’d always choose me, Johnny.” Johnny didn’t answer. His hands were clenched around his phone, his face a dark mask as he stared at the screen. He thought this would be enough to force me out of hiding. He didn’t know. I was never coming back. I looked at my translucent hands, fading in the wind. I tried to laugh, but tears flowed like a broken dam, unstoppable. In the end, I had lost my life, my reputation, and now I was nothing but a lost soul, a ghost unable to even escape his orbit. How pathetic. The hospital room was filled with celebration. Everyone was applauding this perfect resolution, offering their congratulations. But then, the door flew open, and a figure stormed in. Before anyone could react, a sharp crack echoed through the room as a hand struck Johnny’s face. “Andrea is already dead! Why won’t you just leave her alone?”

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The day I flew back home, my best friend’s girlfriend cornered me, her eyes burning with hostility. “So, you’re the one that got away, huh? His old flame. I’ll give you this, you’re pretty. But now that he has me, I guess that makes you… what? Just a boring old memory.” I tried to explain that I was just one of the guys, a friend, but she wouldn’t let it go. “Oh, I’ve seen your type before. The ‘cool girl’ who plays the ‘just one of the guys’ card so you can flirt without any consequences.” “Honey, have some self-respect. Don’t be some cheap tramp everyone’s had a piece of.” I was completely floored. What the hell was a “cool girl” act? I’m a guy. A 100% genuine, bona fide guy. 1 The door to the private dining room swung open just as I sat down. Leo walked in with his arm around a woman in a slinky red dress. “Brian! You’re finally back!” Zack clapped me on the shoulder. “Let me introduce you. This is Leo’s girlfriend, Lily.” Lily’s eyes roamed over me, top to bottom, and then her brow furrowed. “Leo, is this the ‘old flame’ you’re always talking about? You’ve got a pretty face, I’ll give you that, but your style is so… androgynous. Neither here nor there.” My hand, holding a teacup, paused mid-air. I looked up and smiled. “An old flame? That’s a new one on me. I didn’t know I had that title.” “Don’t play dumb,” she scoffed, sliding in next to Leo and draping an arm over his shoulder. “Leo has pictures of you on his phone. Calls you his ‘best friend.’ Sounds more like some unfinished business to me.” Zack quickly tried to smooth things over. “Lily, you’ve got it all wrong. Brian is one of our brothers…” “Brother?” Lily let out a sharp, derisive laugh. “What kind of woman runs around calling a bunch of guys her ‘brothers’? I see what this is. You’re a ‘cool girl,’ using that face to string guys along, keeping Leo on the back burner.” I set my teacup down and leaned forward. “Miss Lily, first, I’m not stringing anyone along. Second, this ‘cool girl’ you’re talking about… is it possible you’re just so insecure you see a rival in everyone?” “Are you trying to insult me?” Lily shot up, slamming her hand on the table. “I’m warning you, stay away from Leo! Don’t think that pretty face gives you a pass to be a homewrecker!” “Homewrecker?” I raised an eyebrow. “Leo is your boyfriend, not mine. Whether I stay away from him or not is none of your business. But you, on the other hand, attacking me the second we meet? That’s just a stunning lack of class.” Leo tugged on Lily’s arm. “Lily, stop it. Brian really is my friend…” “Friend?” She yanked her arm away. “She’s a woman! Thinks she can fool everyone by wearing a button-down and a short haircut? It’s all an act to get your sympathy so she can snatch other people’s boyfriends!” I pulled out my driver’s license and slapped it on the table. “Why don’t you see for yourself? The little box next to ‘Sex’ says ‘Male’.” Lily glanced at it for a fraction of a second before whipping her head away. “An ID doesn’t prove anything! It could be fake! A girl like you would do anything to get a man.” “You look all prim and proper, but underneath you’re just a cheap tramp.” Zack couldn’t take it anymore. “Lily, that’s way out of line. Brian just got back in the country. What is your problem?” “My problem?” Lily put her hands on her hips. “My problem is trying to get you guys to see her for who she really is! You’re all being fooled by her looks!” I let out a cold laugh. “Miss Lily, instead of wasting your breath psychoanalyzing me, maybe you should keep a tighter leash on your own boyfriend. After all, turning his best friend into some romantic rival… with an imagination like that, it’s a shame you’re not writing novels.” 2 “Don’t you dare get sarcastic with me!” Lily glared, stabbing her fork into the plate with a clatter. “You’re just jealous that Leo and I are so happy, so you’re trying to stir up trouble!” Leo looked mortified. “Brian, come on. Lily’s young. Don’t stoop to her level.” “Youth isn’t an excuse for having no brain,” I said calmly, taking a bite of food. “I came back to catch up with my friends, not to be screamed at by a stranger for no reason.” “Who’s screaming?” Lily’s voice shot up, drawing stares from the next table. “I’m warning you! Don’t think you can push your luck just because Leo has a soft spot for the past. He’s mine now, so you can just give up!” Zack frowned. “Lily, can you please just talk normally? Brian is a guy. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Why can’t you believe us?” “I don’t believe you!” Lily pointed a finger at me. “Look at him! Delicate skin, soft voice… besides the clothes, what part of him looks like a man? You’re all in on it together, trying to give Leo an excuse to keep his side piece around!” “Side piece?” I put down my fork and met her gaze. “Miss Lily, don’t you think you’re overestimating your own importance? Even if Leo were looking for a backup, don’t you think he’d find someone with a bit more sense than you?” “Are you saying I don’t have sense?” She leaped to her feet, her finger practically touching my nose. “You little manipulator! Think you’re so clever? Playing the man to sneak into a group of friends, seducing every guy in sight. You’re disgusting!” “Disgusting?” I stood up too, towering over her by a good half a foot. “I didn’t provoke you, I didn’t even look at you, and the first meal I have back home, you unleash this tirade on me. Who’s the disgusting one here?” Leo quickly stepped between us. “Hey, hey, break it up! Brian, I’m sorry. On Lily’s behalf. She just… she cares about me a lot.” “Cares about you?” I laughed. “If she cared about you, she’d respect your friends, not act like a rabid dog. Miss Lily, I’ll tell you one more time: I am a man, and Leo and I are just friends. If you keep this up, don’t blame me for not being polite.” Lily was speechless, her eyes turning red. She looked at Leo, her voice dripping with hurt. “Leo, look at how he’s bullying me!” “Alright, alright,” Leo said, patting her back. “Brian didn’t mean it. Just sit down and eat. Don’t ruin the mood for everyone.” Lily shot me a venomous look and sat back down, muttering under her breath, “Such a phony. You can just tell he’s bad news.” I ignored her and raised my glass to Zack. “Forget her. Let’s drink.” 3 The peace didn’t last long. Lily started up again, her voice laced with poison. “Some people have such thick skin. They can get cursed out and just sit there eating and drinking like nothing happened. No shame at all.” Zack had heard enough. “Lily, that’s it! Brian is our best friend. Can you please show him a little respect?” “Respect him?” Lily snorted. “Why should I respect some ‘cool girl’ wannabe? She deliberately dresses like a man to hang around you guys. Isn’t it obvious she’s trying to seduce you? Zack, has she got her hooks in you too? Is that why you’re defending her?” “What the hell are you talking about?” Zack’s face flushed. “We’re all brothers!” “Brothers?” Lily laughed, a high, tinkling sound. “Oh, Zack, don’t kid yourself! What man looks like that? I think you’re just infatuated with her but you’re too afraid to admit it because of your ‘brotherhood’! Have you two already slept together?” My fists clenched. I was done being patient. “Lily, you’ve gone too far! I’ll prove it to you right now…” “Brian!” Leo suddenly grabbed my wrist, his voice a harsh whisper. “Don’t! I’m begging you!” I froze. “Leo, what are you talking about?” “Lily… she has a lot of pride,” he pleaded. “If you actually prove it, she’ll be humiliated. The scene will be even worse. For my sake, as a friend, can you just let it go for a little longer?” “Let it go?” I stared at him. “She’s insulted me every way she can, and you want me to let it go?” Zack chimed in. “Leo, she’s walking all over Brian. How can you still defend her?” “I’m not defending her,” Leo sighed. “I just don’t want to make a bigger scene. I’m… I’m planning on marrying her. Brian, I know this is unfair. I’ll make it up to you later.” Seeing Leo protecting her, Lily became even more brazen. “See? See? Even Leo is on my side! I told you, you’re nothing but a manipulative, two-faced bitch trying to seduce my man!” I was speechless. The dinner ended on that sour note. As we were leaving the restaurant, Leo suddenly said, “Damn, my car won’t start.” Lily immediately turned to me. “Brian, you drove here, right? Perfect. You can give us a ride home.” I raised an eyebrow. “And why would I do that?” “Why?” Lily said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re Leo’s ‘best friend.’ What’s the big deal about giving us a ride? Or are you just bitter you have to see us together?” Leo added, “Come on, Brian, help us out. I’ll buy you dinner next time.” I hesitated, then finally nodded. “Fine. Get in.” The entire ride, Lily deliberately clung to Leo’s arm, whispering in his ear just loud enough for me to hear. “Oh, Leo, you’re so good to me. You’re the best.” “Silly girl. Who else would I be good to?” Leo’s voice was full of affection. Lily glanced in the rearview mirror, her eyes landing on my stony expression. “Leo, look at some people. Their face is so long it’s about to hit the floor. Someone’s jealous.” My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I was beyond annoyed. I was just done. 4 “Leo, remember our first date?” Lily cooed, leaning her head on his shoulder. “The necklace you gave me? I wear it every single day.” “Of course I remember,” Leo said with a smile. “I’m glad you like it.” “I bet some people have never had anyone treat them so well,” Lily said, her eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “After all, who would want an androgynous ‘cool girl’ who can’t decide if she’s a man or a woman?” I took a deep breath and said nothing. In the mirror, Leo shot me a look, mouthing the words, “Please, man. Just hang in there.” I laughed coldly to myself. This was beyond just hanging in there. Lily was pushing every button she could find. “Brian,” Lily said suddenly, her voice sickly sweet. “You’re getting on in years. How come you haven’t found anyone yet? Is it because no one wants you? I guess it must be hard. Men don’t like you, women don’t want to be near you.” “Lily!” Leo said, a weak attempt at a reprimand. “Don’t say that.” “I’m just being honest,” she pouted. “It’s a shame. You have a decent face. Why do you have to be so confused? Pretending to be a man just to get close to other people’s boyfriends.” “Miss Lily,” I finally said, my voice level. “Do you ever think before you speak? Whether I’m seeing someone or not has absolutely nothing to do with you.” “Ooh, finally snapped, did you?” Lily giggled. “I was just joking. Did I hit a nerve?” “A joke?” The veins in my hands stood out as I gripped the steering wheel. “Making jokes about someone’s identity and character. Is that what passes for manners where you come from?” “I never said you had a character problem,” Lily said, feigning innocence. “I just think it’s not a good look for a woman to be hanging around a bunch of men all the time. You should find a nice, simple guy and settle down. Stop trying to steal other people’s boyfriends.” Again, Leo was gesturing at me in the mirror, his eyes begging. “Brian, let it go. She’s just talking.” “Just talking?” I glanced at him. “This is the third time she’s called me a conniving homewrecker. How am I supposed to ‘let it go’?” “Brian, I know you’re upset,” Leo sighed. “But Lily really loves me. She’s just… sensitive. I promise I’ll talk to her when we get home. Just let her have this one, please?” Seeing Leo defend her yet again, Lily’s smirk widened. “You hear that? Leo wants you to back off! So be a good little pet and stop trying to drive a wedge between us. It’s not going to work.” I stopped talking. I just slammed my foot on the accelerator. The car surged forward. All I wanted was to drop these two off and never see them again.

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After a year away on sabbatical, my work at the academic consultancy had all fallen on my colleague, Diane Miller. So when she suggested hiring a new consultant to ease the load, I felt too guilty to refuse. I was thrilled when I saw the job posting Diane had put online. The new hire’s academic credentials—bachelor’s, master’s, and doctorate—were identical to mine, all from the same university, in the same programs. The moment my research was done, I rushed back to the office. But something felt wrong the instant I saw the new consultant, Laura. “Excuse me,” I said, “but I don’t remember ever seeing you in any of my classes.” 1 “And who are you?” Laura looked me up and down, her face a mask of confusion, completely ignoring my question. I had come back in such a hurry that I hadn’t even had a chance to check in with Diane, just asked the receptionist to take me straight to our new hire. The idea of working with someone who had walked the same academic halls was genuinely exciting. I thought maybe Diane had hired one of my old classmates. But when the receptionist introduced me to this woman, I was utterly baffled. Suppressing my confusion, I forced a smile. “I’m one of the consultants here. I’ve been away for a while. You must be the new Ph.D. we hired, right?” At the mention of her doctorate, Laura’s chin lifted, a smug look spreading across her face. “That’s right. I’m Laura. And you are? What’s your degree? Associate’s? Bachelor’s?” I studied her closely, testing the waters. “I have my doctorate as well. What a coincidence! We actually attended the same university for all three of our degrees.” Laura’s expression flickered, but she quickly composed herself. “Wow, what are the odds? Ha ha. Anyway, I have something to take care of, so I’ve got to run.” She tried to brush past me, but I stepped in her way. “It’s strange, Laura. I was in that program for years, and I never saw you once. Who was your thesis advisor?” “My advisor… he was…” She stammered, unable to come up with a name. And in that moment, I knew. Diane must have been so swamped that she’d let someone slip through the cracks. This woman’s degree was a fake. Just then, Diane walked over. She saw me and froze, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. “What are you doing back?” I frowned. Her tone… it sounded like the last thing she wanted was for me to be here. “My sabbatical is over, so of course I’m back,” I said. “But that’s not important right now.” I turned my gaze to Laura, who was now staring at the floor. “Diane, I think there’s a problem with our new hire’s credentials.” Laura’s head snapped up. “No, there isn’t! You’re lying!” “We’ll see about that,” I said coolly. “All we have to do is check her file.” As soon as the words left my mouth, Diane and Laura shouted in unison. “No!” I looked from one to the other, a thought suddenly clicking into place. Diane and Laura… were they in this together? A cold smile touched my lips. “Diane, don’t tell me you knew her degree was fake. You know what the number one rule in our line of work is, don’t you?” Diane glanced at Laura, then back at me, her voice losing its confidence. “Of course, I know that. But you shouldn’t be so paranoid…” Her words trailed off into a mumble. “Fine,” I said, my voice firm. “Laura, bring your file to my office. You too, Diane.” I turned as if to leave, but ducked around the corner and waited. Sure enough, the second I was out of sight, Laura grabbed Diane’s arm, her voice a panicked whisper. “Aunt Diane, what do I do? Am I going to get fired?” Aunt? So that was it. My suspicion was right on the money. “Don’t panic,” Diane hissed. “Just tell her you left your file at home. We’ll figure it out later.” “Aunt Diane, are you sure that’ll work? What if she finds out…?” “She won’t!” Diane insisted, though it sounded like she was trying to convince herself. “In a few days, she’ll forget all about it.” Having heard everything, I stepped back into the hallway. The color drained from their faces. I let a slow, deliberate smile spread across mine. “An aunt, you say?” I asked, my voice dripping with ice. “You’d better start explaining. Now.” The awkward, guilty expressions on their faces fueled a rare surge of anger in me. “Diane, if you want to hire your relatives, I don’t have a problem with that.” I paused, watching a flicker of relief in their eyes before I continued. “But to bring someone in without doing a basic background check, and now that her degree is clearly fraudulent, how can you possibly expect me to let her stay?” Diane’s face flushed with anger. She squared her shoulders. “Her degree is not a problem! She’s been teaching here for months, and the parents and students are all very happy with her.” Her stubborn refusal to see reason was deeply disappointing. I closed my eyes for a moment. “Then show me her file. Let’s see some proof.” Diane lowered her head, silent. We stood in a tense standoff until Laura couldn’t take it anymore. “Aunt Diane, just show her! We have nothing to hide!” Laura spun around and stormed into the office before Diane could stop her. Watching Diane’s anxious fidgeting, my suspicion grew. A moment later, Laura returned, holding a personnel file. She arrogantly tossed it at my chest. “Here! Read it and weep!” Her tone was humiliating, but I bit back my retort, bent down to pick up the file, and started to open it. A hand shot out, stopping me. It was Diane, forcing a tight smile. “She’s just a kid. Don’t mind her.” “It’s fine,” I said, trying again to open the folder. Diane’s hand remained firmly in place. That was the last straw. I shoved her hand away and opened the file. As I read, my expression grew darker and darker. Laura was still preening nearby, but my heart had sunk into a pit of ice. At first glance, the file looked perfect. The degree, the photo, everything was clearly documented. But I knew. This wasn’t Laura’s file. I looked up, my eyes locking on Diane. Because this file… it was mine. My hands began to tremble as I held the papers. I looked at Diane in disbelief. “Diane, can you explain this? Why does this file have my social security number and my dissertation title listed on it?” Laura stared at me, then at her aunt, utterly shocked. Feeling our eyes on her, Diane shrank, her head bowing lower and lower. “I… I don’t know…” Even though I didn’t want to believe it, the truth was staring me in the face. I had thought Laura had simply faked a degree and fooled Diane. I never imagined they were related. And I was furious to realize Diane had known all along. But I never, ever would have guessed that the fake degree was mine. And to think, I had been so excited to meet a former classmate. It was all a complete and utter fraud. What a scheme. They had simply swapped the name and photo on my records and handed them to Laura, effortlessly stealing my identity. All those parents and students Diane claimed were so impressed with Laura… they weren’t impressed with her. They were impressed with the Ph.D. she had stolen from me. I’d been gone for one year, and I’d come back to find my own credentials had been erased. If I’d returned any later, would there have even been a place for me left at my own company? The more I thought about it, the deeper my disappointment grew. Diane and I had known each other for years. I thought we were best friends. I never imagined she would be the one to stab me in the back. Shaking with rage, I confronted her. “Only you have access to my personnel file, Diane. Tell me, why did you give my degree to Laura?” I advanced on her, and she broke out in a cold sweat. Seeing her aunt cornered, Laura finally found her voice. She shoved me back, shielding Diane with her body. “So what if my aunt did it? I wanted that degree, so now it’s mine.” She looked down her nose at me. “And for the record, my aunt may be nice, but don’t think that puts you on her level. When you work for someone, you need to know your place!” I seized on her words. “What do you mean by that?” Laura scowled, annoyed at being interrupted. “I mean my aunt is your boss! So you’d better watch your tone. She gave you your degree in the first place, so you should just be grateful and accept the arrangement! What’s with the attitude?” For a second, my brain couldn’t process the sheer audacity. Once her words sank in, I burst out laughing. I looked past Laura to the silent, cowering Diane. “Well, well, Boss Diane. I had no idea you were the one who got me my Ph.D.!” Diane opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. My disappointment was absolute. Laura was still babbling, mocking me, until I cut her off. “You seem to be confused about two things,” I said sharply. “First, does this consultancy really belong to your aunt? And second, if she’s so powerful she can magic up a flawless Ph.D. out of thin air, why wouldn’t she have made one for herself?” Laura was stumped. After a long pause, she finally sputtered, “It’s not that hard! Just because you can’t do it doesn’t mean other people can’t!” I laughed without mercy. “No wonder your aunt had to fake a degree for you. With your intellect, you’d probably make your students dumber.” My words finally hit home, and Laura flushed with rage. But even then, Diane said nothing to defend her. That settled it. I was calling the police. Auntie? Only a fool like Laura wouldn’t see that Diane was using her as a human shield. She couldn’t even defend her own family once the truth came out. I scoffed. I had been so wrong about her. Diane and I were classmates in college. After graduation, I founded this consultancy to pay my way through my master’s and Ph.D. programs. Diane hadn’t been a great student, but she was savvy and had good management skills, so I invited her to work with me. For years, whenever my studies took me away, I trusted her to run everything. She always kept the place in perfect order. I thought we were partners. I never thought she’d be the one to betray me so deeply. I let out a heavy sigh. I had felt so guilty for being gone this past year, knowing it meant more work for her. I had given her raises, found ways to bonus her for her hard work. I had even planned on giving her a portion of the company’s shares when I got back. Now, that was clearly off the table. I pulled out my phone to dial 911 when the receptionist burst in, looking flustered. She saw the three of us and breathed a sigh of relief. “There’s a crowd of parents at the front door,” she said. “They’re demanding to see Laura.” I was still trying to process this when Laura let out a squeal of excitement, her earlier arrogance returning in a flash. “It must be my students’ parents!” she declared. “They’ve come to thank me! Just you wait. One word from me, and they’ll be on your case in a second!” She grabbed Diane and excitedly pulled her toward the entrance. I hesitated for a moment, then followed. My gut told me a sudden mob of parents wasn’t a good sign. As we neared the entrance, we could see a large group of people gathered outside. “Aunt Diane, look at all of them!” Laura chirped, shaking her arm. “They must be here to thank me!” I could almost understand her assumption. The receptionist had told me that since Laura started, her students had all graduated without issue. Parents often came by to express their gratitude and recommend her to their friends and relatives. So, Laura naturally assumed this was just another thank-you party. If she’d been a little more observant, she would have noticed that the crowd was far larger than her total number of students. Seeing me standing off to the side, Laura couldn’t resist gloating. “Never seen a crowd like this, have you? We may both be consultants here, but we are not the same.” She was smug, all traces of her earlier panic gone. Even Diane looked more relaxed. “Laura, she’s still your senior,” Diane said, then turned and gently took my arm. “The degree situation… I admit I handled it poorly. But Laura is very talented, and she’s brought a lot of business to the consultancy. If you’re not happy, you’re free to resign. I’ll even pay you for the year you were away.” Her words made my stomach turn. “Aunt Diane, why are you being so nice to her?” Laura pouted. “After what she said to you?” “People say things they don’t mean when they’re upset,” Diane said smoothly, her eyes on the crowd. “Let’s resolve this now before the parents get the wrong idea and your colleague gets hurt.” I snorted, my gaze turning colder. I had let her get away with too much, and now she was drunk on borrowed power, actually threatening me. Was she implying that if I didn’t play along, she’d slander me in front of all these parents? With a crowd this big, their anger alone could bury me. I fell silent. Seeing this, Diane and Laura assumed I was intimidated and grew even more arrogant. Just then, a commotion started in the crowd. “Where is Laura? We were told someone was getting her!” “What kind of service is this? We all paid for tutoring here, and you just leave us standing outside?” Seeing the parents’ tempers flaring, Diane and Laura forgot about me. Plastering on bright smiles, they walked to the entrance. “Sorry for the wait, everyone!” Laura called out, trying to contain her excitement. “You know me, I’m a perfectionist. I was just in my office preparing for my next class!” The crowd quieted down. A man stepped forward. “You’re Laura? The new consultant?” Laura nodded without hesitation, linking her arm with Diane’s. “Yes, that’s me. And this is my aunt, the founder of this consultancy. I wouldn’t be where I am today without her!” The two of them shared a self-congratulatory look, completely missing the dark expressions spreading across the parents’ faces. I had started to follow them, intending to stop them from spreading any more lies. But when I saw the look in the parents’ eyes, a sense of dread washed over me, and I stopped in my tracks. Suddenly, someone in the crowd yelled. “That’s her! Get her!” In an instant, the parents pulled out eggs, rotten vegetables, and whatever else they could find and started hurling them at Laura. One man screamed as he threw something. “You money-grubbing fraud! My son’s thesis was rejected for plagiarism, he lost his degree, and now he’s lost his job! This is all your fault!”

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On our seventh wedding anniversary, I found a dowry list in my husband Felix’s safe. It wasn’t for me. It was for his ex-girlfriend. The list was staggering: an $18.88 million settlement, ten sets of limited-edition designer jewelry, and two luxury condos in New York City. A stark contrast to my own marriage. When I married Felix, I signed a prenuptial agreement. No dowry, not even a single piece of jewelry. Even the house we lived in, our supposed marital home, wasn’t mine. “What do you think you’re doing, going through my things again?” I turned to see him standing in the doorway, his face a mask of cold annoyance. I didn’t scream. I didn’t cry. I simply looked at him, my voice eerily calm. “Felix, let’s get a divorce.” His brow furrowed slightly. He strode into the room, snatched the crimson list from my hand, and ripped it into confetti. “It’s an old relic. Are you really going to blow this out of proportion?” He didn’t spare me another glance, turning his back and walking away as if I were nothing more than a minor inconvenience. And just as calmly, I picked up my phone and called my lawyer. I was leaving with nothing. 1 My lawyer was efficient. By six that evening, the divorce papers were in my inbox. He must have felt a pang of guilt, drafting such a simple agreement for a client who was walking away empty-handed from a marriage to a man of Felix’s stature. “Clara,” he began, his tone hesitant, “are you absolutely sure about this? Given your husband’s net worth, you could fight for a much more substantial settlement.” A bitter smile touched my lips. A settlement? There was nothing to settle. For years, Felix’s official salary had been a symbolic one dollar. As for his company dividends, he had made it crystal clear before we married: they were pre-marital assets. They had nothing to do with me. So while other brides got lavish European weddings and honeymoons, I got a stack of legal documents to sign, meticulously detailing the division of property that left me with none. I never thought much of it. Felix was a businessman, after all. Calculating, meticulous—I understood that. But that dowry list shattered my understanding. It turned my entire marriage into a cruel joke. Because every single item on that list—the jewelry, the condos, the cash—was identical to the assets listed in the prenup I signed. The assets that were explicitly not mine. The wedding ring on my finger? It wasn’t for me. It was meant for her. The ten sets of designer jewelry I had so carefully cleaned and stored? They were hers. This very house, our home? It was bought for her. His ex-girlfriend never claimed them. But even as his wife, I could never have them either. A suffocating pain tightened around my chest, making my hands tremble. Still, I managed to keep my voice steady as I spoke to my lawyer. “No, this is enough.” I ended the call and connected my phone to the printer. But as my finger hovered over the Wi-Fi password prompt, another wave of bitterness washed over me. The password: FLovesEM. I never understood it before. But now, it hit me with the force of a physical blow. Felix loves Elara. Elara—the name elegantly scrawled at the bottom of the dowry list. It all clicked into place. Three years ago, the Wi-Fi went out. I called a technician, had a new router installed, and changed the password to something simple. When Felix came home that night, he couldn’t connect. His rage was immediate and terrifying. He stormed into the bedroom and yanked me from a deep sleep. “Did you change the Wi-Fi password?” he demanded, his face a cold, hard mask. His fury jolted me awake. “The old router was broken,” I stammered. “I had it replaced.” He said nothing more that night, but his silence was a weapon. He immediately called the provider, paying a ridiculous fee to have a technician come out in the middle of the night and change the password back. For the next seven days, he treated me like I was invisible. He refused the food I cooked, slept in the guest room, and ignored every word I said. The silence became unbearable. I finally broke down, apologized, and promised never to touch his things again. Only then did he deign to speak to me. The memory was a fresh stab of pain. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the past away, and hit “print.” Once the documents were ready, I signed my name on the dotted line. Then I called a friend in real estate. It was time to find a new place. 2 Thanks to my friend, the search was quick. I wasn’t picky. By that afternoon, I had paid the deposit and first month’s rent on a small apartment. It was eight o’clock by the time I got home, but I stopped at the market anyway. Divorce or not, I wanted this to end with some semblance of peace. I cooked his favorite meal and waited. Ten o’clock came and went. Then eleven. Just after midnight, the front door finally opened. Felix walked in, his expression souring when he saw me on the sofa. He tossed his suit jacket onto a chair, already loosening his tie. “That’s enough, Clara. Stop this little drama.” He started towards the bedroom, not even glancing at the untouched dinner on the dining table. He didn’t say another word to me. My fists clenched. “Felix,” I called out, my voice cutting through the silence. “Here are the divorce papers. Please sign them.” He froze, his body tensing. He turned slowly, his eyes burning with irritation. “Is this still about that list? Fine. You want the house? I’ll add your name to the deed. Is that what you want?” I almost laughed. Did he really think this was about money? If I had been after his money, I never would have married him in the first place. He would never know. He would never understand the years I spent loving him from afar, a secret I had carried from middle school through graduation. My entire youth was a quiet orbit around him. I wrote 999 love letters I never had the courage to give him. For six years, I made sure there was milk and bread on his desk because he always forgot breakfast. I was a silent, lovesick guardian, content to just watch over him. Then, after college, a twist of fate brought us together on a blind date. So I endured it all. The dates he stood me up, leaving me waiting alone outside the movie theater. The rainy nights he promised to pick me up, leaving me soaked and shivering on the curb. I never once thought of leaving. When he proposed, without a shred of genuine ceremony or warmth, I said yes. There was no grand reason. It’s just who I am—the kind of person who has to crash into a wall to finally learn to turn back. But after ten years—three dating, seven married—I’ve hit that wall enough. I’m done. Taking a deep, shaky breath to quell the ache in my chest, I stood up. “That won’t be necessary,” I said, my voice firm. “I truly want a divorce.” I looked him straight in the eye, my resolve hardening. “When I wake up tomorrow, I expect to see these papers signed and on the coffee table.” Then, for the first time, I mirrored his own cold indifference. I walked past him without another word, went into our bedroom, and locked the door. A moment later, the house erupted with his furious roar. “Fine, Clara! You want a divorce? I’ll sign it right now!” The sound of something smashing against the wall followed. “But after this, don’t you dare come crawling back to me, because I will never take you back!” The door to his study slammed shut. Listening to the rage outside, my heart, already bruised, felt like it was being pierced by a thousand tiny needles. Crawling back to him? He seemed to have forgotten. In seven years of marriage, I had begged him hundreds of times. On our first anniversary, I called him, pleading, “Can we please go to that new restaurant tonight? To celebrate?” He’d agreed, but just like when we were dating, he forgot. He called me at the time of our reservation to say he had a last-minute meeting, then hung up before I could reply. And the honeymoon in the Maldives he promised? For seven years, I asked him, “Do you have time this year? Can we finally go?” And every year, the answer was the same: “Business is slow. I’m too busy.” That promised honeymoon remained a debt he never paid. I used to wonder why, after a decade together, there was still an invisible wall between us. The dowry list gave me the answer. It was simple. He never loved me at all. 3 When I woke the next morning, Felix was gone. In his place, scattered across the floor outside my bedroom, were the shredded remains of the divorce papers. For a dizzying second, seeing the white confetti on the carpet, I felt a flicker of hope. Maybe he didn’t want this. Maybe he wasn’t completely heartless. Then my phone buzzed, and reality crashed back in. It was a message from an unknown number, a woman who had added me on a messaging app a month ago. Her friend request read: I’m back. Time to give Felix back to me. Stunned, I had accepted. Since then, she had been torturing me with a steady stream of photos. Felix at a nail salon with her. Felix strolling along the beach with her. Felix kissing her under the soft glow of a streetlight. She was the one who told me the password to his safe. She was the one who told me to look for the dowry list. This time, the picture was of Felix’s face, asleep on a pink pillow. Bitch, I heard you found the list in the safe yesterday. See? I told you I wasn’t lying. By the way, all those things Felix gave you? I want you to have them professionally cleaned and sent to me. I have a thing about cleanliness; I don’t like other women touching my possessions. I only let Felix marry you because I had to focus on my studies. You were a clean option, at least. Better to have you warm his bed than some random slut. Oh, and you have seven days. Seven days to divorce him. Otherwise, I don’t care if he’s married. I’ll sleep with him anyway. Don’t even think he won’t touch me. You have no idea how passionate he gets. He’s been coming to my place every night after work since I got back. We’ve come close to crossing the line so many times. If I wasn’t trying to avoid the “homewrecker” label, I’d probably be pregnant with his child by now. Anyway, I have to go. Felix’s waking up, and I need to brush my teeth before giving him his good morning kiss. The messages stopped. Tears blurred my vision, fat drops splashing onto the screen. Through the haze, I typed a shaky reply. You don’t like other women touching your things? You do realize I’ve fucked him more times than you can count, right? I sent it. No reply came. My impotent rage felt like punching a pillow, a suffocating frustration that twisted into sharp knives in my heart. So that’s why he was smashing things at midnight. It wasn’t because I’d asked for a divorce. I had foolishly, pathetically allowed myself to hope he was angry about losing me. No. He was just in a hurry to get to his ex-girlfriend’s bed. The last thread of hope inside me snapped. My fingers trembled as I sent a message to Felix. Felix, are you free today? I’d like to go to City Hall and file for divorce. 4 Just like my message to Elara, my text to Felix went unanswered. For half an hour, I watched the “…” appear and disappear as he typed, but nothing ever came through. My calls went straight to voicemail. Instead, a new message from Elara popped up. It was a voice memo. Her voice, laced with smug annoyance, filled the air. “God, you’re so annoying. Why do you keep calling him? Don’t you know how much we hate it when you interrupt our time together?” My heart seized. I fought back the fury and typed: I asked Felix for a divorce last night. If you want this to happen, tell me where he is. She didn’t reply. I was done waiting. With trembling hands, I booked a moving company online and started to pack. Or rather, to throw things away. Our wedding photos? Gone. Our matching couple’s mugs that he never used once? Gone. The expensive clothes I’d bought for him that he never wore? Gone. When the movers arrived, the living room was piled high with the ghosts of our marriage. I told them to take it all to the dump. Then, with their help, I packed my own belongings. Even though I’d lived in this house for seven years, it only took an afternoon. My life fit into a few dozen boxes. As the moving truck pulled away, I looked back at the house one last time. I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. I had just finished unpacking the essentials in my new, empty apartment when my phone buzzed again. It was Elara. A dropped pin. A location. Come get him. He’s here. My grip on the phone tightened. After a long moment, I typed back a single word. Okay. I changed into a comfortable set of athletic wear, then grabbed the golf club I’d made a point to take from Felix’s house. I called a car. After a month of Elara’s torment, it was time she got a taste of her own medicine.

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