Author: Momo Chan

I was secretly married to a superstar actress for nine years, and for nine years, her name was constantly linked to other men in the tabloids. All the while, she left me to rot in the city’s poorest district, the Warrens, without a second thought. I spent a decade washing dishes in that slum. Then one day, she showed up, wanting to take me back. “Victor,” she said, “I told you, as soon as Julian was established in the industry, as soon as his confidence was strong enough, I’d bring you home.” “He just won Best Actor at the Golden Phoenix Awards. I’m here to keep my promise.” I raised my hands, swollen and cracked with chilblains, to shield my eyes from the blinding sunlight, and stared at the elegant, unfamiliar woman before me. “I know you feel wronged,” she continued, “but Julian is the junior I mentored, the one I watched grow up. He’s timid. As his big brother figure, you should be willing to step aside for him.” “But you are still my husband. Come home with me, and I’ll make it up to you.” She kept talking, instructing me that when I returned, I was to live in the basement and stay out of sight of the paparazzi. I flicked the dishwater from my hands, cutting through her monologue. “Ma’am,” I said. “Who are you?” 1 My detached gaze seemed to freeze her in place. She blinked, then that familiar, weary smile returned to her lips. “All this time in the Warrens, and your temper hasn’t changed a bit.” She chuckled softly. “I suppose that means you’ll be able to handle Julian, even if I have spoiled him a little.” But her smile quickly faded, her expression turning serious. “Julian is a very sensitive soul. When we get back, you are forbidden from mentioning our relationship in front of him.” “From this day forward, you are my new personal bodyguard.” “You’ll be responsible for his daily needs, reminding him to eat on time. But don’t worry,” she added, as if it were a great comfort, “in my heart, you and he are equally important.” Listening to this ludicrous speech, I finally placed her. Sienna Moreau. My ex-wife. Ten years. The woman I had once loved with every fiber of my being now felt like a complete stranger. “Ms. Moreau,” I said, my voice flat and devoid of emotion as I stared at her. “You abandoned me here for a decade. What makes you think I’d just wait around for you, playing the faithful husband?” Sienna instinctively reached for me, but I stepped back, avoiding her touch. “Don’t be dramatic,” she chided. “You loved me so much back then. You couldn’t have moved on that quickly.” “Besides, you’re thirty now. No education, no real job. Who would want you, other than me?” “Even if some woman was attracted to your face, what kind of life could she offer you? Come back with me. At least I can guarantee you’ll have a roof over your head and food on the table.” Her tone was so matter-of-fact, as if my worthlessness was a given. After our secret wedding, she had given me a brief period of happiness. One day she was cuddling up to me, whispering promises of forever; the next, because her precious Julian threw a tantrum, she had me shipped off to the Warrens. I had been the bedrock of her rise to fame, loved her to the bone, and was discarded without a second thought. I couldn’t accept it. I had even begged her, humiliating myself. All I got in return was her impatience. “Julian has depression,” she’d said. “He can’t handle any stress, and he relies on me. You’re used to hardship anyway, so just stay here for a little while.” “You are, legally, my husband. I’ll give you what you’re owed, eventually.” “Once Julian is stable in his career, once he’s mature enough, I’ll come get you.” Those words had severed the last thread of hope I had for her. I just never imagined that Julian’s “stabilization” would take ten years. But I was no longer the naive boy who would debase himself for love. I had met someone who cherished me. I had built a new, warm life. “Sienna,” I said softly. “You’re too late.” I lifted my left hand. On my ring finger, a simple wedding band gleamed in the sun. “I’m very happy now. I’ve already found the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with.” Not long after I was exiled to the Warrens, I met the daughter of the city’s wealthiest man, who was there doing charity work. She noticed me right away. I was in the middle of teaching a lesson to some young punks who were bullying an old man. She walked up to me, a playful smile on her serene face. “You’re good with your hands,” she’d said. “Ever thought of being my bodyguard?” And just like that, we got to know each other, and fell in love. When she learned about my past, she didn’t hesitate to use her family’s connections to help me legally dissolve that sham of a marriage. “Victor, you always were too proud,” Sienna scoffed, eyeing my ring. “Which flea market did you buy that piece of junk from?” “Alright, alright,” she said, her tone softening into a playful scold. “Stubborn men end up alone, you know.” “I know you still have me in your heart. Why else would you write me letters every week? I’ve read every single one.” I almost laughed out loud. Leaving aside the fact that those letters were undoubtedly from her legion of obsessive fans, had she never once suspected anything, given that the handwriting was different on every single one? I did send her one letter when I first arrived in the Warrens. It contained nothing but a signed divorce petition. For whatever reason, it had vanished without a trace. I suspect someone deliberately cut off all contact between us. “You waited ten long years for me,” she said, her voice filled with a self-satisfied warmth. “You must be so excited that I’m finally here to take you home.” “I’ve been looking forward to this day for a long time, too.” “Julian’s victory party is next week. After it’s over, I’ll come get you.” Old Man Chen, who ran the diner I worked at, had rushed out and was standing nearby, wanting to say something but unable to get a word in. Sienna continued her monologue, instructing her assistant to unload gifts from the car. “And you, pull yourself together. Don’t always look so… shabby.” I glanced down at my comfortable, casual clothes. Shabby? The luxury car outside purred away. Chen finally let out a long sigh. “What’s that superstar ex-wife of yours up to now? Does she really not know you’re remarried?” I went back to scrubbing the plate in my hands. “Let her be,” I said calmly. “It doesn’t matter anymore.” “Chen, give these gifts out to the neighbors. A little something to brighten their day.” I was only supposed to be stopping by today, just to visit the old neighbors who had been so kind to me. But after Chen insisted, I ended up staying for a few more days. It wasn’t until later that I remembered the real reason for my trip. 2 When I was forced to leave all those years ago, I’d left behind a locket my parents had given me. It was still at Sienna’s house. I needed to get it back. After all this time, I was genuinely surprised she still lived in the same villa. Even more surprised that the security code for the door was the same. I pushed the door open and stepped into the familiar space. Sienna had bought this place with the money from her first big acting gig. It wasn’t large, but it had once been filled with all our hopes and dreams. Before she became a megastar, we would curl up on the couch here, planning our future, talking about everything from the color of the wallpaper to the names of our future children. Before I could get lost in the memories, Sienna emerged from the living room. Surprise flickered in her eyes, quickly replaced by a knowing smile. “So impatient?” she purred, leaning against the doorframe. “Weren’t you the one who’d supposedly found someone to spend your life with?” “The party just ended, and I haven’t even had a chance to come get you. And here you are. Still say you don’t love me?” It was laughable. When had she developed this god complex? Not wanting to waste my breath, I tried to move past her to find the locket, but she blocked my path. “Now that you’re back, you could at least try to be a little sweet,” she said, her eyes dropping to the simple canvas bag in my hand. “And how did security even let you in dressed like that?” “What happened to the clothes I sent you? Dressed like this, people will think a beggar broke in.” Her arrogant dismissal was so absurd I had to laugh. “What I wear is my business. It’s not for you to judge. Now move. I’m just here to get something.” My coldness clearly annoyed her. “So you’re still mad that I took so long to come for you?” “I already explained, I had to wait until Julian was stable. You’re a grown man, why are you so petty?” “You could learn a thing or two from him about being gracious.” “Sienna.” A low voice drifted from the bedroom. Julian, wrapped in a silk robe, appeared, an aura of pampered privilege radiating from him. “This must be Victor, right?” he asked with a faint smile. “I hear you’re the new bodyguard Sienna hired for me?” “I have to ask, what skills do you bring to the table? You can’t protect me without some serious talent, you know.” He suddenly covered his mouth with his hand in a gesture of apology, but the taunt in his eyes was unmistakable. “Oh, I forgot you grew up in the Warrens. It must have taken a lot of work to get where you are today.” Every word was laced with condescending pity. “I’m not your brother,” I said flatly. “Don’t get familiar with me.” I had no patience for their act. The study door was open, so I decided to head straight there. As I went to push past Julian, I barely touched him, but he let out a cry and stumbled backward, knocking over a vase in the entryway. Sienna’s face contorted with fury. She rushed to his side. “Julian!” He leaned into her embrace, a shallow, bloody scratch now visible on his cheek. Sienna looked up, her gaze like a shard of ice, fixing on me. My stomach dropped. I instinctively tried to explain. “It wasn’t me…” Before I could finish, a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. She had slapped me. “Victor! Are you trying to say he threw himself on the floor just to frame you? He’s an actor! Don’t you understand how important his face is to his career?” That slap shattered the last wisp of nostalgia I felt for this house, for her. “Sienna, I started a new relationship eight years ago,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I only came here today to retrieve something I left behind. My wife is wonderful, my life is wonderful, and I have no intention of ever coming back to you.” Sienna’s face darkened completely. “Victor, do you take me for a fool?” “Our marriage certificate is sitting on the nightstand in my bedroom right now. You started a new relationship? Who do you think you’re kidding?” I said nothing, just held her gaze. A flicker of panic crossed her stony face. “Victor, stop this nonsense,” she said, her voice a little less certain now. “Just apologize to Julian. This tantrum has gone on long enough.” She said the words, but a deep unease was creeping into her heart. The man she had discarded for a decade was now a stranger, and it terrified her. 3 Sienna was about to say more, but Julian let out a pained whimper from her arms. She immediately helped him toward the door. I stopped her with a cold voice. “Wait.” I pointed toward the study. “Where is the locket my parents left me?” Sienna shot me an irritated glare. “In the safe, bottom shelf. The code is your birthday.” She turned and left without another look back, helping Julian out the door while calling for an ambulance. As she turned, Julian, leaning on her shoulder, shot me a triumphant, mocking smirk over her shoulder. News of Julian’s “accidental injury” immediately shot to the top of the trending topics. Photos showed him in a hospital bed, a bandage on his forehead, looking weak while Sienna dutifully peeled an apple for him. The comment sections exploded. “Who did this? Who hurt my Julian?!” “I know it’s bad, but… they look so good together! Sienna stayed with him all night!” I was oblivious to all of this. I found the locket and left quietly. But the next morning, two new headlines were trending on Twitter. [BREAKING: SIENNA MOREAU AND JULIAN CROSS CONFIRMED TO BE LIVING TOGETHER!] [SHOCKING: SIENNA’S BODYGUARD ATTACKS JULIAN OUT OF JEALOUS RAGE!] I clicked on the hashtag. A series of paparazzi photos were going viral. One showed Sienna and Julian returning to her villa together after his awards party. Another was a shot of the security log showing my entry into the villa. The comments were a frenzy. “So it was this bodyguard who hurt Julian?” “I heard he’s been obsessed with Sienna for ten years! He got jealous when Julian won the award!” “But this bodyguard is gorgeous! Would he really do something like that?” As the debate raged, a new comment shot to the top. “This guy worked for Sienna ten years ago and tried to assault her! After she fired him, he lived in the slums for a decade. She took pity on him and hired him back, and this is how he repays her!” Attached was a private photo of Sienna and me from ten years ago. It was from a time when she was overworked and would come home late at night, using me to de-stress. In the photo, I was half-undressed. It was a moment that should have been for our eyes only. Seeing the leaked photo and the false accusations, my face went black with rage. I called Sienna. She finally picked up on the fourth try. “Sienna, was this you…?” Who else could have had those photos? There was a pause on the other end. Then, her voice, cold and firm. “Victor, this is the price you pay for hurting Julian.” Hearing her words, I laughed until tears streamed down my face. A price? “Then what about the price he should pay for the ten years I spent in the Warrens because of him?” “Victor!” she snapped, cutting me off. “Must you be so petty about everything?!” “I don’t want this to escalate any further. Apologize to Julian immediately. I’ll have him release a statement forgiving you, and we can put this behind us.” Put this behind us? She said it so casually, as if the damage to my reputation was nothing compared to a scratch on Julian’s face. I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. As I was about to speak, I heard her assistant’s voice in the background. “Ms. Moreau, Mr. Cross is awake and asking for you.” “I’m on my way,” Sienna said quickly. When I looked at my phone again, the call had been disconnected. Sienna hurried towards Julian’s room. Halfway there, she stopped and turned to her assistant. “That white agarwood bracelet the brand sent over last week, do we have it?” The assistant nodded eagerly. “Have it sent to Victor. Agarwood is his favorite.” Sienna knew me too well. She knew I had a proud streak. Forcing me to bow my head to Julian would be a humiliation. But in her mind, if you do the crime, you do the time. And besides, I had always been easy to placate. In the past, whenever I was angry, a small gift was all it took to win me over. She assumed this time would be no different. 4 “Oh, and the matching pendant,” Sienna added, “give that to Julian.” The bracelet arrived just as I was watching Julian’s live hospital interview. He was propped up in bed, Sienna tenderly adjusting his pillow. A reporter asked, “Mr. Cross, about the recent rumors, is it true that Victor attacked you out of jealousy?” Julian gave a weak smile. “It’s not his fault. Sienna is an incredible woman, she has a lot of devoted fans…” The reporter immediately jumped on it. “So the rumors are true? This Victor is a monster! I hope all of your fans will make him pay for this!” Julian simply smiled and let his eyes drift closed, feigning exhaustion. The reporter noticed the wooden pendant around his neck. “That agarwood pendant is beautiful! It’s from the new collection at L’Arome, isn’t it? I heard there’s a matching bracelet!” Julian looked at Sienna with eyes full of affection. The reporter understood instantly. “So the rumors about you two being a couple are true?!” Sienna simply smiled, a silent confirmation. I turned off the livestream and stared at the exquisite agarwood bracelet on my table. I knew that one word to Clara would make this entire storm disappear. But I didn’t want to trouble her. More than that, I wanted to show Sienna that I was no longer the soft-hearted fool who would clear her path and let her walk all over me. When Sienna had bought the villa, the deed was put in my name. The property management system had a complete record of the ownership history. I contacted several media outlets that were direct competitors of Sienna’s and had them release a joint statement. “The legal owner of this villa has always been Mr. Victor Vance.” “It appears he was forced out years ago by Sienna Moreau and Julian Cross, only to be brought back and mislabeled as a ‘bodyguard’.” “Is a security log of him entering his own home enough to convict him of assault? This is a gross miscarriage of justice.” “There is more to this story. We call for an immediate end to the online harassment of a private citizen.” At the same time, I released a formal statement from a newly created Twitter account. The tide of public opinion began to turn. But then, to my utter shock, Sienna herself responded. “Years ago, I saw that he was homeless but a diligent worker, so I gifted him the villa. I never imagined he would harbor such delusions and repeatedly overstep his boundaries. And now, he has attacked an innocent person!” Attached was a bank transfer record from the time of the purchase. The payer’s name was clearly listed as Sienna Moreau. In that moment, I felt the blood drain from my face. Her initial payment hadn’t been enough to cover the full price. To give her a home, I had secretly gone to the realtor and paid the majority of it with the inheritance my parents left me. I remember her holding me, her eyes red with tears. “Victor, that was everything your parents left you, how could you…” Now, that act of love had become the knife she plunged into my heart. Chen was shaking with rage when he heard. “The marriage certificate! Where is it? Show it to everyone, let them see the truth!” “She has it,” I said quietly. She had insisted on keeping all our official documents, worried they’d be found by the paparazzi. Chen fell silent. After a long moment, he asked softly, “Victor… were you two really in love when you got married?” I managed a bitter smile. Just then, my phone lit up. A message from Clara. “Do you need me to step in?” She knew. “No,” I typed back. “I’ll handle this myself.” I put my phone away and handed a prepared file to a waiting reporter. “Please publish all of it.”

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Thomas rejected the honors program spot for me. He gave it to Rena Quinn, the scholarship kid he supposedly couldn’t stand. When I told him we were over, he just took off his gold-rimmed glasses, polishing them with a deliberate slowness, completely unfazed. “Don’t forget, I voted for you in the campus ambassador poll, not her. That took some real pressure.” He spoke as if placating a child. “Rena’s family is dirt poor. That program is her only shot. Think about how many times I’ve gone after her for your sake over the years. Just consider this a way of making it even.” “Jealous again?” he sighed, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Once you marry into my family, you can have anything you want. Why lower yourself to her level?” I stared at his infuriatingly calm expression. “I said we’re breaking up. Did you not hear me?” For the first time, a frown creased his brow, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a confident smirk. “Fine. I’ll give you a week to cool off. I’ll win you back next week. Happy now?” He was so certain I couldn’t live without him. But he had no idea. I’d already received a full scholarship offer from Oxford University. My flight to England was in five days. 1 “You’re breaking up with Thomas Chase?” My best friend Chloe’s shriek blasted through the phone. “Ava, are you insane? You don’t just dump the ultimate catch like it’s nothing!” I held the phone away from my ear and leaned back against my headboard, scrolling through the campus message board. The pinned post at the top was in a blaring red font: [Thomas Chase Defends His Girl, Humiliates Rival Rena Quinn with Program Spot!] The comments were a spectacle. “LMAO, isn’t Rena the one who’s always acting so high and mighty, saying she despises the rich? Funny how she took the spot so fast.” “You don’t get it. This is a power move. Thomas is basically saying: ‘Take the money, shut your mouth, and stop bothering my Ava.’” “Exactly! Our Ava is a queen. That broke girl Rena is always pulling shady stuff behind her back. It’s about time someone put her in her place.” “Thomas is way too good to Ava. He spoils her rotten.” I read the comments, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. They all thought Thomas was defending me. Only I knew the truth. That spot—the one I had pulled countless all-nighters for, the one I had poured my soul into earning—had been tossed away to someone else with a careless, “let’s call it even.” “Ava, are you even listening? Say something!” Chloe was practically hyperventilating. I opened Rena’s social media profile. Her latest post was from half an hour ago. No picture, just a single line of text: “A handout, I know. But I earned this.” I screenshotted it and sent it to Chloe. “See? That’s his explanation to me.” Silence on the other end. After a long pause, Chloe’s voice came back, strained. “…So he really gave the spot to Rena? But why? I thought he hated her.” “Every time she tried to sabotage you at school, wasn’t he the first one to jump in and shut her down?” Yes, why? I once believed he was on my side. I used to think the animosity was because he loved me, and so he loathed anyone who tried to hurt me. But it turned out that every public confrontation was just a prelude to a private, generous compensation. And I was the fool, the only one who had been kept in the dark, the only one whose feelings were real. “Chloe,” I said softly. “Yeah?” “Thomas and I are really over.” “There’s no misunderstanding.” I heard Chloe’s sharp intake of breath. I knew what she wanted to say—that Thomas’s family was powerful, that he doted on me, that he was the perfect boyfriend everyone envied, and that I shouldn’t be so rash. But they only saw what he wanted them to see. 2 The next morning, a giant Hermès box was delivered to my dorm room. My roommates let out a collective gasp. “Oh my god, it’s the latest collection! Ava, Thomas is spoiling you rotten!” “Seriously, I’m so full from all this public display of affection!” Tucked inside was a card with Thomas’s elegant, flowing script. “Cooling-off period. 144 hours left.” My roommates buzzed around me, their eyes filled with envy. In their world, I was a princess cherished by the heir to a fortune, the undisputed winner in this game of love. The irony was suffocating. He thought money could fix anything, could erase any hurt, including my trampled dignity and broken heart. I calmly took out my phone, snapped a picture of the bag that was still warm from its packaging, and opened a luxury resale app. Title: [Guilt Gift from the Ex. Brand new, box opened once. Make an offer.] Once it was posted, I sent the link to Chloe, asking her to keep an eye out for a serious buyer. Her call came instantly. “Ava, are you nuts? You’ll lose so much money selling it secondhand right after you got it!” “It’s not like I’m ever going to use it,” I said, indifferent. I cradled the phone on my shoulder as I dragged a pre-packed suitcase from the back of my closet. “Chloe, I’m flying to England in five days. I got the full ride to Oxford.” “What?” The line went dead silent. I could picture her jaw hitting the floor. “When did you even—” “I applied a while ago. As a backup plan.” I managed a small smile. It was probably the single best decision I had ever made for myself. As soon as I hung up, a message from Thomas popped up. “Did you get the gift? Why aren’t you answering? Don’t you like the color? I can have it exchanged if you want.” I didn’t bother replying, just muted his chat. I continued packing, methodically organizing my life into boxes and arranging for an international courier to pick them up. Just as I sealed the last box, my mom called. The moment I answered, her placating voice filled the line. “Ava, dear, did you have a fight with Thomas? He called me, you know, he’s very upset.” “Mom, we broke up.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” her voice shot up an octave. “Ava, how can you be so immature? Our family latching onto the Chases is the chance of a lifetime. It’s a blessing!” “Don’t be so willful. A boy with Thomas’s background willing to bend over backward to please you is already a huge compliment. Don’t get arrogant and throw this all away!” I took a deep breath, cutting her off. “Mom, what if I don’t want this ‘blessing’?” A long silence stretched over the line. Then, my dad snatched the phone. “You wouldn’t dare! Ava, we’ve worked our fingers to the bone to raise you, not for you to act like a spoiled brat! If you ruin this engagement, don’t bother coming home.” Click. He hung up. I stood there in the middle of my messy dorm room, clutching my phone, and suddenly felt an incredible sense of release. Fine. Let it all be severed. Clean breaks were the best. That evening, a confirmation email from Oxford University landed in my inbox. I stared at the words for a long time before carefully typing out my acceptance. The moment I hit send, a heavy weight lifted from my shoulders. Finally, I was escaping. 3 “My family’s having a dinner party tonight. My mom specifically asked for you to be there,” Thomas announced over the phone. “Your parents will be there too. It’s time we moved forward with our engagement. It took a lot of convincing on my part, so please don’t show up looking like you’re at a funeral.” I rolled my eyes. As if I cared about his stupid engagement. But then I remembered some important research papers I’d left at home. This was a good chance to have my parents bring them and to get everything over with in one go. “Fine,” I agreed. The Chase family villa was a blaze of light. Thomas’s parents sat at the head of the table, their attitude toward me a mix of detached politeness and cool disdain. Every other sentence was a subtle jab about my ‘humble’ background, a reminder that I wasn’t their equal. My own parents seemed completely oblivious to the condescension, just nodding and scraping, smiling inanely at the Chases. They even started putting me down to curry favor. “Our Ava, we’ve spoiled her, I’m afraid. She has a bit of a temper. I hope you’ll both be patient with her in the future.” “She’s so lucky to be marrying Thomas.” I sat there stiffly, the feeling of being scrutinized making my skin crawl. During the meal, Thomas’s mother brought up Rena, her tone casual. “Thomas, I heard you’ve been picking on a girl at your university, a Rena Quinn?” Her perfectly preserved face held a hint of disapproval, but her gaze drifted over to me, as if blaming me for her son lowering himself. “Mom, don’t listen to rumors,” Thomas said, setting down his wine glass. “I actually admire Rena. Her family’s got nothing, and she’s stubborn as a mule. I was just teasing her a bit. I made it up to her afterward.” I tuned them out, mechanically stuffing my face with lobster and abalone. Halfway through dinner, the butler escorted someone into the dining room. It was Rena. She stood awkwardly in the opulent room, wearing a faded dress that stuck out like a sore thumb. All the defiant pride she carried at school was gone, replaced by a timid, hunted look. Her wide, watery eyes darted toward Thomas, pleading for help. Thomas frowned, rubbing his temples. “Take her upstairs and find her something to wear,” he told the butler. When Rena returned, she was transformed. The dress was a limited-edition piece from one of the Chase family’s brands, and on her, it had a certain fragile, captivating charm. At the table, Thomas’s mother was warmer to Rena than she had been to me, her son’s actual girlfriend, all evening. “You must be Rena,” she said, taking her hand. “Thomas told me all about you. You’re a hard worker, your grades are excellent, and now you’ve secured a spot in that honors program. You’re a wonderful girl.” She announced that the Chase family would be funding Rena’s entire education. “If you ever need anything, you come to me. We Chases have the utmost respect for resilient young people like you, who pull themselves up by their bootstraps.” Rena was overwhelmed, her eyes welling with tears as she stammered her thanks. I knew exactly what this was. Thomas’s mother was using Rena to slap me in the face. She was showing me that even a penniless girl had more grit and value than I, the daughter of a comfortable middle-class family, did. I was the real parasite, the one trying to worm her way into their dynasty. I couldn’t stand to look at my parents’ fawning, sycophantic faces anymore. The nausea I’d been suppressing all evening threatened to boil over. I put down my fork, stood up, and took the file folder with my research papers from my mother’s hand. “I’m sorry, I’m not feeling well. I have to go.” Thomas shot up from his seat to stop me. “Ava!” 4 I turned and gave him one last, cold look. His arm froze in mid-air. Slowly, he let it fall. Without another glance back, I walked out of that suffocating cage. The late-night air was frigid, the wind stinging my cheeks as I walked alone down the empty street. But my mind was a reel of memories, playing back my time with Thomas against my will. I first met him at the art studio where I worked part-time. A difficult customer was tearing apart one of my paintings when Thomas appeared out of nowhere, a knight in shining armor who defused the situation with a few sharp words. He wore a crisp white shirt and stood bathed in light, looking like a prince. When he pursued me, he said he was tired of the shallow, artificial socialites in his circle. He said he loved how real and genuine I was. He called me the most unique girl he’d ever met. And I believed him. My family was middle-class, my parents ordinary professionals. Our worlds were galaxies apart. But I truly believed our love was real, a connection of souls that transcended class. Then Rena appeared. She was fiercely independent, scornful of wealth and power, and branded anyone close to Thomas as a corporate lackey—especially me, his girlfriend. The first time we went on a date after we got together, we were at a small café near campus. I was sketching him when Rena, wearing a waitress uniform, came over with our coffee. She shot me a contemptuous look and muttered, “Climbing the social ladder and forgetting where you came from. Disgusting.” Thomas wasn’t having it. He slammed his hand on the table and shot to his feet. “What did you just say?”

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Six months pregnant, I decided to surprise my husband after he texted that he missed me. My best friend Joanna was driving me home through the mountains when a landslide struck. A boulder shattered the window and hit my stomach. Blood soaked the seat. Terrified, Joanna called my husband Nick. I cried for help, but he snapped, “I’m rescuing Lily—she twisted her ankle. Don’t bother me now!” and hung up. Joanna called her husband, Nick’s brother. He yelled, “If Lily’s hurt, your friend miscarries? Call an ambulance! Don’t waste my time!” A kind driver took us to the hospital, but it was too late. I lost the baby. Lying weak in bed, I whispered, “I’m filing for divorce.” Joanna replied softly, “Me too.” 1 As soon as I had a sliver of strength back, I texted Nick the two words: I’m divorcing you. I waited all night. Finally, his call came through. The connection was terrible, his voice cutting in and out, but his fury was crystal clear. “Jessica, I’ve been out in a damn storm all night, rescuing people, and you’re pulling this crap with me? Divorce?” “You’re at your parents’ house, safe and sound, and you’re telling me you were hit by a rock in the mountains? Who are you trying to fool? Do you have any idea how critical the golden hour is in a rescue? The thirty seconds you wasted on the phone could have saved a life!” “This is because you saw Lily’s post, isn’t it? You think something’s going on between us? She was just camping with the team! We’ve known each other for twenty years. If something was going to happen, it would have happened long before you came along. The signal’s crap out here. Don’t bother me unless it’s a real emergency!” “And if I see you use divorce to threaten me one more time, don’t expect me to be nice about it. I have no problem with my child not having a mother!” Static crackled on the line. A bitter smile twisted my lips. “So this is what you meant when you said you missed me?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. His anger flared again. “What message? I’m swamped. Lily’s been holding my phone for me. When would I have time to text you? Stop with the passive-aggressive act. Lily needs her dressing changed. I’m hanging up!” Before I could even process his words, the line went dead. I stared at the blank screen, a single tear tracing a path down my cheek. I remembered the text now, the out-of-character emoji that followed the words. No wonder the man who hadn’t shown a flicker of concern for my six-month pregnancy had suddenly missed me. The only tender message I’d received in three years of marriage, and it was courtesy of his childhood sweetheart. And it had cost me my child’s life. The physical pain from the rock was nothing compared to the agony ripping through my heart. The tears flowed freely, but I couldn’t bring myself to dial his number again. I was afraid of who might answer. The incision on my abdomen throbbed, and my mind flashed back to the accident. The rock crushing my stomach, the last of my strength spent pleading with him for help. All I could hear from his end was Lily’s pained whimper. I kept screaming Nick’s name, telling him where I was. We were only three miles apart, but it felt like an ocean. Blood was pouring out of me, and I could barely breathe. He didn’t hang up. After what felt like an eternity, I heard Lily’s sweet, lilting voice. “If it weren’t for you, Nicky, I don’t know if I’d ever walk again. Thank you!” I looked at Joanna’s pale, terrified face, and a wave of guilt washed over me. Before I could end the call, Nick’s cold voice cut in. “Why are you still on the line? I’m busy. Can you stop bothering me? There’s a time and a place for your drama.” “You know the demands of my job! If you’re going to be my wife, you need to learn to be independent!” The line clicked. For a fleeting moment, I thought it might be better to be dead. Sensing my despair, Joanna snatched the phone and furiously sent Nick a voice message. “You’re a disgrace to your profession! You, a rescuer? The only reason you save people is to atone for your own sins! People like you should just die and go to hell!” She sent the message, and tears streamed down her face. She tried to move the rock off me, but she wasn’t strong enough. So she ran out into the storm, standing in the middle of the road, flagging down cars. Finally, a kind soul agreed to take us to the hospital. I was saved. But I lost my child. And even then, I wasn’t out of the woods. 2 Joanna had saved my life, but she was drowning in guilt. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed by my bedside. “If I had just learned first aid… if I had checked the weather forecast before we left… if I hadn’t agreed to pick you up, maybe this wouldn’t have happened…” Her tears fell faster than she could wipe them away. “I heard this hospital collaborates with Mark’s. I used his name to request a specialist consult for you. The doctors said your condition is critical. If we don’t do something soon, you might lose your uterus…” Just then, Mark, her husband, called, his voice sharp with accusation. “Joanna, are you in the mountains? Are you following me? Don’t you have anything better to do? I wouldn’t have even known if the hospital hadn’t called me!” “Don’t you know there was a landslide? Can you stop making trouble? Lily being here is a coincidence! She’s not my only patient! And can you please stop hanging out with that crazy friend of yours? Is stupidity contagious?” “I’ve explained this to you a thousand times. What will it take for you to trust me? One day you’re talking about learning first aid, the next you’re using my name to monopolize hospital resources. Can you just be normal for once? If you keep this up, I’ll be the one asking for a divorce!” He hung up. Joanna stared at her phone, at the picture of the two of them on her wallpaper, and fresh tears welled in her eyes. I had never regretted my marriage more than I did in that moment. The room was silent, save for the soft sound of our tears. Nick didn’t believe I had a miscarriage. Mark didn’t believe Joanna trusted him. Our relationships were a mistake from the start. Our stubbornness had only pushed us further down the wrong path. And turning back had cost me half my life. 3 The news was a constant stream of updates on the disaster in the mountains. Lily had signed up as a volunteer, working alongside the two brothers to aid in the rescue and rebuilding efforts. A reporter somehow got wind of their childhood connection, and suddenly, the three of them—working together, caring for each other—became the new media darlings. Cameras followed them everywhere, live-streaming their every move. The brothers, usually private people who shunned the spotlight, were persuaded by Lily to smile for the cameras. The internet went wild. They were a trio of perfect, shippable combinations. Fan groups sprouted up, churning out daily content. The actual disaster became a footnote to their love triangle. At first, Joanna tried to shield me from it all, worried it would affect my recovery. But she was a terrible liar. Who stares at their phone with a murderous rage while “casually browsing”? I snatched a look when she wasn’t paying attention and saw the three of them, side-by-side, giving an interview in front of a relief tent. Tears slipped from the corners of my eyes. The pain in my abdomen had faded to a dull, numb ache. Joanna came in with my dinner and saw what I was watching. Her face flushed with a mixture of pity and anger. “Those three bastards! Wasting resources during a disaster! Who watches the news for this soap opera crap?” “I’m calling the station to complain!” I put a hand on hers, stopping her. “Don’t,” I said, my voice weak. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Really.” Maybe my love for him had died quietly during those six months of pregnancy, with every unanswered call, every ignored text. What kind of marriage required my elderly parents to make excuses for my husband? Joanna looked at my stoic face and turned off the live stream. The screen reverted to her call log, where her furious divorce threats to her husband lay unanswered. Both brothers had changed their profile pictures to a shot from that interview, the three of them together. I managed a hollow laugh and took the food from her. Every day after that, Joanna and I took turns calling them, our single message the same: divorce. But the calls never went through. On the seventh day, Joanna stared at the disconnected call screen, a vein throbbing in her temple. I forced a bitter smile. “Maybe the cell towers are down. We can wait a few more days. What’s a few more days, right?” After all, I had already wasted three years. But Joanna was done waiting. She borrowed a nurse’s phone and dialed Nick’s number again. This time, surprisingly, he answered. Hearing his familiar voice, a dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips. My eyes were too raw to produce any more tears. All that was left was the pain. Three years of marriage, and it had come to this: being blocked. I took a breath and spoke, my voice cold. “Nick, when you get back, let me know. We’re getting a divorce. And tell your brother—he’s getting one, too.” His voice shot up, sharp and incredulous. “What is wrong with you? Hasn’t a week been long enough for you to cool down? Don’t you watch the news? I’m in the middle of something important! Lily is out here helping with a sprained ankle, and you’re what? Pregnant? You expect me to treat you like a queen?” “I’m busy. I don’t have time to deal with your mood swings! If it’s hormones, take a pill!” Before I could reply, I heard Lily scream on his end, followed by the thud of a phone hitting the ground. Nick’s voice was trembling. “Lily? What happened?” “It’s nothing! Just an ant on my shoe! It startled me!” Her voice was cloyingly sweet. “Was that Jessica? I’m so jealous. No one’s called to check on me this whole time…” Nick chuckled, his voice dripping with affection. “Silly girl. Haven’t I been right here with you?” I clamped a hand over my mouth, stifling a sob. But the humiliation and despair were relentless, seeping into the raw, gaping wound of my heart. Joanna snatched the phone from me, her other hand gently rubbing my chest, trying to calm me. 4 Another week in the hospital. A steady stream of injured people were brought in from the mountains, but I never saw a familiar face. Our numbers were completely blocked. Joanna and I unspokenly agreed to stop mentioning the live streams. For seven days, it was as if they had vanished from our world. Then, during my final check-up, a nurse mentioned that Lily, the volunteer, had slipped on a hillside and needed to be brought to the hospital immediately. Joanna and I exchanged a look. She packed my things and handled my discharge paperwork. When she came back, she was muttering to herself. “It’s so empty today. Took me forever to get this done. Only one window was open…” “They’re probably all out helping with the transport. They should be back soon,” I said, not thinking much of it. We walked out of the hospital, my arm linked with hers. I was planning to find a print shop for the divorce papers when we ran straight into them—the two brothers, surrounded by a swarm of reporters and patients. Nick was in the lead, cradling Lily in his arms. “Out of the way! Where’s the emergency room? Get the hell out of my way!” Mark followed, trying to maintain some semblance of order, his face etched with worry. His angry shouts were lost in a chorus of thanks from the onlookers. My heart sank. It was now or never. I plunged into the crowd. Joanna yelped in surprise but couldn’t hold me back. The throng of reporters pushed and shoved, my cotton dress twisting and pulling. I shouted Nick’s name, but they dismissed me as just another crazed fan. “Captain Miller and Miss Vance are childhood sweethearts! A washed-up hag like you has no chance! Put on some makeup, you look like a ghost!” There was no time to explain. I was swept along with the crowd to the emergency room. With a final burst of strength, I threw myself against the doorframe, blocking their path. Nick finally saw me. I gasped for breath. “Divorce! Today! As soon as you drop her off, you’re coming with me!” In his arms, Lily winced, but her eyes were sharp, calculating. Nick’s barely contained rage finally exploded. “When are you going to stop? You followed us all the way out here? Now you see we were actually working, are you satisfied? This is a life-or-death situation! Get the hell out of my way!” Life-or-death. She probably had a few scrapes and bruises. A mocking smile touched my lips, but I didn’t move. Mark finally broke free and saw what was happening. He grabbed my arm, trying to pull me away. “Have you lost your mind? And you dragged my wife into this? You’re pregnant, for God’s sake! Can you stop being so selfish?” At that moment, Joanna shoved her way through the crowd and slapped him hard across the face. “You know exactly what you’ve done! A man who doesn’t care about his own child being hailed as a hero? Your brother is a piece of trash!” Mark stared at her, stunned that she would hit him. His eyes turned red with fury. He grabbed her by the collar and started dragging her away. “I’ve been too good to you, haven’t I? You keep this up, and we’re getting a divorce, too!” The reporters, sensing a new story, turned their cameras on them. The pressure on Nick eased. He was about to step through the door. I was frantic, my body trembling. I threw myself in front of him. The next thing I knew, I was flying backward. He had kicked me. The freshly stitched incision on my abdomen tore open. Blood soaked through my dress. I collapsed to the floor, a strangled scream escaping my lips. It was only then that Nick seemed to realize what he had done. He froze, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. His eyes drifted down to my flat stomach. “Jess,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “Where’s… where’s our baby?”

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With the wedding approaching, a company-wide Slack announcement offered every employee a $10,000 bonus and a week-long trip to Hawaii—sparking rumors that CEO Sophia Sterling would marry Director Vance there. Leo Cole, Sophia’s new assistant, hesitantly messaged, “I’ve only been here three months—should I really get the bonus?” Sophia replied, “Everyone who contributes gets rewarded.” Soon after, HR told me the Director role I’d been promised was given to someone else. Confused, I went to Sophia’s office and overheard her confess to a friend: the bonus was a discreet way to cover Leo’s mother’s surgery, and she’d previously missed my mother’s funeral to care for him after he broke his leg—all while lying to me, her fiancé. “If Ethan hears, he’ll throw a fit,” she laughed. I stepped away and called my father: “I’m calling off the engagement.” If she wanted to be someone else’s savior, I’d set her free. 1 My father’s voice shot up an octave on the other end of the line. “What did you just say?” “Son, since you were a boy, you’ve only ever had eyes for that Sterling girl.” “You gave up your place at our company, started as a grunt at Sterling Corp, all for her.” “You’re about to get married, and now you want to call it all off?” “What in God’s name happened?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone, but my voice was steady. “Dad.” “Do you remember that goldfish I had as a kid?” “Every day, I changed its water, fed it, took perfect care of it. But all it ever wanted to do was jump out of the bowl.” “Then one day, it finally did.” I paused. “By the time I found it on the floor, it was already dried to a husk…” Silence stretched over the line. When my father spoke again, his voice was raw. “Are you… are you sure about this?” “Yeah. I’m sure.” After hanging up, I opened my laptop and emailed my resignation to HR. The moment I walked into the office the next morning, the receptionist told me I was needed in the main conference room. I pushed open the heavy doors, and two dozen pairs of eyes snapped to me. Sophia sat at the head of the table in a sharp white pantsuit, her long hair pulled back, revealing the elegant curve of her neck. Her gaze met mine, flickered for a fraction of a second, then hardened back into its usual calm composure. “Now that everyone’s here, let’s begin.” Her voice was as cool and crisp as ever. I took my seat. Directly across from me was Leo. He looked particularly sharp today, his hair perfectly combed. A pair of antique gold cufflinks peeked out from his crisp, light-blue shirt. I recognized them immediately. The ones I’d hunted down in a dusty little shop in Paris two years ago for Sophia’s birthday. “There is only one item on today’s agenda,” Sophia announced, her eyes sweeping across the room. “The appointment of the new Director of Marketing.” My fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the polished wood. That title should have been mine. From the day I walked away from my family’s empire five years ago to start at the bottom of Sterling Corp, I had climbed the ladder to Associate Director. Everyone in this room, including me, thought my promotion was a done deal. “After careful consideration, I have decided to appoint Leo Cole as the new Director of Marketing, effective next month.” A few seconds of dead silence, then the room erupted. Mr. Davies, the grizzled head of finance, was the first to slam his hand on the table. “Sophia, this is completely against protocol!” “The kid’s been here less than three months! He’s not even out of his probationary period!” Kate from Operations stood up to back him. “He’s right. Based on seniority, performance, and contribution, Ethan is the only logical choice!” I sat there quietly, my eyes locked on Sophia. Her expression didn’t waver. She simply raised a hand, silencing the room. “While Leo’s tenure has been short, the new market strategy he proposed has already been unanimously approved by the board.” Her voice was soft, but it carried an authority that tolerated no argument. “I am confident he can lead the marketing department to new heights.” “This decision is final.” Leo kept his head down, the very picture of humility. But I saw the faint, triumphant smirk playing on his lips. When his gaze finally met mine, a flicker of smug satisfaction flashed in his eyes. “If there are no other questions, this meeting is adjourned.” Sophia closed her file. I pushed my chair back, the screeching sound tearing through the quiet room. Every head turned in my direction. Sophia’s brow furrowed. “Ethan, do you have something to say?” 2 “No.” My face was a blank mask. I turned and walked toward the door. “Director Vance!” Leo shot up from his seat and hurried after me. “Please, wait!” He put a hand out to block my path. “I’m just a guy from a small town. I don’t have the experience or the insight for a role like this.” “The Director position… I honestly don’t feel I’ve earned it.” “I really think you’re the better fit…” His voice trailed off, perfectly calibrated to sound like a nervous rookie intimidated by a veteran. But as he pretended to straighten his tie, my eyes caught the glint of the watch on his wrist. A Patek Philippe. The one Sophia had given me for my twentieth birthday. The one I treasured so much I kept it locked away in a safe. The sight of it made my blood run cold. “Leo, don’t be like that,” Sophia said, walking over. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This was a company decision. You don’t need to step aside for anyone.” She turned to me, her eyes laced with disapproval. “Ethan, don’t be so petty.” Her words twisted in my gut like a knife. For years, I had put my own legacy on hold to build hers. I brought her dinner during late nights at the office, sat by her bedside when she was sick. I worked myself to the bone, driving Sterling Corp’s revenue through the roof, doubling its market value. And now, in front of the entire executive team, she was calling me petty? I nearly bit through my lip. “Sophia,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “I quit.” For the first time, a flicker of panic crossed her face. “Ethan, what are you talking about?” “I said, I’m done.” “Now get out of my way.” I shoved past Leo, sending him stumbling back. He immediately put on a wounded expression. “Director Vance, please, don’t be angry.” “This is all my fault. I apologize…” he whimpered, his eyes darting toward Sophia. Sophia rushed to his side, steadying him before whirling on me, her eyes blazing. “Ethan! That’s enough!” “Leo was trying to be gracious. What gives you the right to push him?” I let out a cold, humorless laugh and turned to leave. The sharp click of heels echoed behind me. Sophia caught up, her fingers digging into my arm. “What is this attitude, Ethan?” Her voice was glacial. “The meeting isn’t over, you haven’t apologized to Leo, and you’re just walking out?” I stopped, turning to face her. Her beauty was as sharp and fierce as ever—lips like fire, eyes that could cut glass. But the warmth I once saw in them was gone, replaced by an arrogant, dismissive glare. “I’ve already resigned, Sophia,” I replied calmly. “This meeting has nothing to do with me.” “And as for Leo, I will never apologize to him.” Her brow tightened, but she quickly regained her composure, that familiar look of being in total control settling back onto her face. “I haven’t accepted your resignation, which means you’re still an employee of this company.” Her tone softened slightly. “We can forget the apology for now. Just come back to the meeting.” A wry smile touched my lips. “Since when do you care about protocol, Sophia?” “Leo didn’t even finish his probation period, and you made him a director.” Her eyes faltered for a second. “Company decisions are not for you to question.” “You’re right, they’re not,” I nodded. “Which is why I’m opting out.” “Out of sight, out of mind.” I moved to walk around her, but she was clearly not expecting such a clean break. She stood frozen for a moment before rushing after me again. “Ethan!” “What are you so upset about? Is this really all because you didn’t get the director job?” I looked at her, and a bitter laugh almost escaped my lips. She still thought this was about a damn job title. “Sophia,” I said, my voice even. “In all the years we’ve known each other, when have you ever seen me throw a fit over work?” She was momentarily speechless, but her pride kicked in and she lifted her chin. “Then what are you so angry about?” I held her gaze. “You know damn well what this is about.” A flicker of something—guilt?—crossed her eyes before she masked it. “I… I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I decided to cut to the chase. “The cufflinks. The watch. Where did he get them?” Sophia blinked, then answered with a dismissive wave of her hand. “I gave the cufflinks to Leo as a reward for his hard work.” “As for the watch, you never wear it anyway. What’s the big deal if he has it?” 3 I almost choked on a laugh. So the things I held so dear were meaningless to her. She nonchalantly tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a smirk on her perfect red lips. “Ethan, when did you become so possessive?” “They’re just things. If you want new ones, I’ll buy them for you.” She glanced back toward the conference room, her tone airy. “Leo has been working around the clock on the new project. He deserved a little recognition.” “Recognition?” A block of ice formed in my chest. Ever since Leo had started at the company, our arguments had become more frequent. Every single one was about him, and every single time, I was the one who backed down. Not this time. “Sophia, for your birthday that year, I scoured every antique shop in Paris to find that 19th-century pair of cufflinks.” “You told me you loved the story behind them, that it was the most thoughtful gift you’d ever received.” I gestured to the bracelet on her wrist. “Just like this Tiffany bracelet I won for you at auction five years ago.” Her fingers instinctively went to the bracelet. Her gaze shifted for a moment before she put her mask of cool superiority back on. “Ethan, be mature about this.” “It’s perfectly normal to reward a high-performing employee. You’ve given gifts to your subordinates before.” I was done talking. We parted in anger. After smoking half a pack of cigarettes, I went back to my office to pack my things. I found my personal belongings scattered across the floor. But the thing that made my vision go red was the framed photo of my mother. The glass was shattered, and right across her smiling face was the muddy print of a man’s shoe. “Oh, Mr. Vance, I’m so sorry.” Leo came jogging over, his face a mask of fake concern. “Sophia said this office needed to be cleared out for the new director, so I had the cleaning crew start on it.” I turned slowly, a roar filling my ears, my blood pounding. “Who did this?” I pointed at the footprint on the photo, my voice a low growl. Leo’s eyes darted around nervously. “It… it must have been the cleaners… maybe they dropped it by accident…” “Bullshit!” My vision tunneled. I kicked over a nearby metal trash can, and it slammed against the wall with a deafening crash. Leo flinched, his eyes instantly welling up with tears, looking like a frightened rabbit. “What’s going on?” Sophia rushed over. Leo immediately darted behind her for cover. “Sophia, Director Vance is mad that I had his office cleared out.” Sophia glanced at the mess on the floor without a flicker of concern. “It’s just an office swap, Ethan. Why are you making such a scene?” She didn’t even look at the desecrated photograph. “If you want to stay, just have them move your things back in.” I snatched the photo off the floor, not even feeling the shards of glass digging into my palm. “Sophia, look closer! This is a memorial photo of my mother!” Her gaze finally dropped to the picture. Her lips parted, but before she could speak, Leo cut in. “Sophia, I swear I didn’t know! The cleaning staff must have been so careless. But ultimately, it’s my fault.” His tears started to fall on cue, streaming down his cheeks. “Maybe… maybe I should go and pay my respects to his mother, to atone for this…” “Shut your mouth!” I roared. Leo cowered, pressing himself into Sophia’s side. She immediately turned on me, her eyes furious. “Ethan! Have you lost your mind?” “Leo already apologized! What more do you want?” “He’s not the one who stepped on the photo!” Leo, ever the actor, let his tears fall faster. “Mr. Vance, I know you despise me, but I truly didn’t mean for this to happen…” Seeing the raw murder in my eyes, Sophia stepped in front of Leo, shielding him. “Ethan, if you have a problem, you take it up with me. Don’t you dare touch him!” Before I could even respond, Leo dropped to his knees without warning. His eyes were red, his voice choked with emotion. “Mr. Vance, it’s all my fault!” With trembling hands, he took off the cufflinks and the watch, holding them out to me. “I know you’re angry because Sophia gave me these gifts.” “A poor kid like me… I don’t deserve to wear things like this.” “And I should have never caused a misunderstanding between you and Sophia.” I snatched the cufflinks and the watch from his hands. And right in front of him, I threw them into the trash can I’d just kicked over. Leo’s shoulders shook violently. A fresh wave of tears streamed down his face as if he’d been grievously wounded. “Ethan! You’ve gone too far!” 4 Sophia rushed forward, pulling Leo to his feet, her expression full of pity. She gently wiped the tears from his face, her voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “Leo, stop it. You did nothing wrong.” When she looked back at me, her eyes were like shards of ice. “Do you really have to humiliate him like this, Ethan?” Leo seized the moment, grabbing her sleeve, his voice thick with tears. “Sophia, maybe… maybe I should just resign…” “I don’t want Mr. Vance to be unhappy, and I don’t want to be a source of conflict in the company.” He spoke with such sincerity, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a nearly invisible smirk. As predicted, his words made Sophia’s heart ache for him even more. She squeezed his hand, her voice firm. “Absolutely not! You earned that position with your talent. Why on earth would you resign?” “Ethan, look what you’ve done to him,” she said, her voice dripping with disappointment. “Even now, all he can think about is you.” “And what about you? What can you do besides bully and intimidate?” I watched the whole pathetic performance, a cold numbness spreading through me. Leo’s acting was flawless. Every tear was perfectly timed, every word expertly crafted to pull on Sophia’s heartstrings. “Sophia.” My voice came out as a raw whisper. “Can you really not see that he’s playing you?” “Playing me?” Sophia scoffed as if I’d told a terrible joke. “Ethan, when did you become so cynical?” “Leo is kind, genuine, and hardworking. He’s nothing like you.” “You’re manipulative and small-minded!” Leo dutifully lowered his head, his shoulders trembling as if he were enduring some great injustice. He sobbed quietly, “Sophia, please, don’t fight with Mr. Vance because of me.” “It’s all my fault. I never should have accepted your gifts in the first place.” “A poor kid like me has no right to wear a watch and cufflinks worth a fortune.” Sophia patted his back, her voice a soothing murmur. “Don’t say that. You deserve the very best.” She looked up at me, her eyes filled with nothing but disgust. “I never thought you could become this person, Ethan.” “Leo works himself to the bone for this company, and you throw a fit over a few trinkets and then humiliate him over and over again!” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “Think whatever you want.” I turned and walked toward the door, my steps firm. “Ethan!” Sophia called out behind me. “You’re just leaving? Without a single word of apology?” I paused and looked back at her one last time. My gaze slid from her to Leo’s deceitful, tear-streaked face. “Sophia, we’re done.” She froze. Leo’s eyes immediately reddened again, his voice cracking. “Mr. Vance, please don’t say that… Sophia cares about you so much…” Sophia grabbed his hand, her voice steely. “Leo, that’s enough.” “If he’s going to be this ungrateful, then we’re not going to beg him to stay.” After hearing that, I left without looking back.

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The ceremony had reached the exchanging of the rings when my husband suddenly announced he needed to pause for five minutes. Then, he turned, walked over to his unforgettable first love, and dropped to one knee. “Lily,” he said, his voice ringing through the silent hall, “I once promised you that I would propose in front of everyone. So, in another life, would you marry me?” Lily covered her mouth, nodding through her tears as she threw herself into my husband’s arms. Then she looked over at me. “Grace, even though I won’t get the chance to marry Julian in this lifetime, I hope you’ll take good care of him for me.” Whispers and stares pricked at me from all sides. Across from me, the groom was locked in a passionate kiss with another woman. Everyone was waiting, watching, ready to see the bride become a laughingstock. Instead, I smiled and walked toward Lily. I shoved my bridal bouquet into her hands. “What do you mean, no chance? If you can’t let go of this piece of trash, then by all means, you can have him.” 1. For ten years, I humbled myself, bending over backwards to please Julian’s family, desperate for their approval. In the end, it was only the baby in my belly that earned me this long-overdue wedding. I thought that once we were married, once the child was born, Julian would finally settle down. But now, I was watching the man who was supposed to be vowing his life to me, kissing someone else as if I didn’t exist. I dug my nails so deep into my palms that they drew blood, but my heart still ached with a pain so sharp it felt like I couldn’t breathe. And in that moment, something inside me snapped. My words made Lily clutch her chest and collapse into Julian’s arms. Without a moment’s hesitation, he swept her up and rushed toward the exit, shouting over his shoulder that I was a “vicious, petty bitch.” He yelled that it was a simple five-minute gesture, but I had to make it into a humiliating spectacle for everyone. Neither his parents nor mine could stop him. And so, I was left to face the fallout alone. The officiant stood awkwardly, holding his script. My mother, ashamed of me, started hitting my arm, sobbing that I had to go chase after Julian and bring him back. My father just snorted, told me to sort out my own mess, and dragged my mother away. My mother-in-law, who had never thought I was good enough, now sneered that I was a classless country bumpkin. She lectured me that to marry into a family like theirs, I had to learn to swallow my pride and not embarrass my husband in public. For the first time in ten years, I realized that devotion doesn’t always earn devotion in return. And I no longer wanted to be a part of the Thorne family. They left with the remaining guests, telling me to walk home and think about what I’d done. I stood at the entrance, holding the white satin of my wedding dress, and watched them drive away. Behind me, the hotel was silent and empty. In front of me, the sky opened up and a torrential downpour began. After the Thornes and their guests were gone, a car pulled up. It was my parents. My mother rolled down the window. The sight of them made all the grief and humiliation I’d been holding back surge forward. My voice was a raw whisper as I choked out, “Mom.” I reached for the door handle, but I heard the click of the locks engaging. I stared at them, stunned. My mother’s voice was sharp with disappointment. “I told you this would happen. Now you listen to your in-laws, go home and reflect. Figure out a way to win Julian back. You’re carrying their grandchild. No matter what, that Lily girl can’t take your place.” “Mom, how can you say that…” She ignored me, rolling up the window as the car sped away, leaving me standing in the rain. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, watching the taillights disappear into the storm. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free. 2. The wedding venue was a resort hotel built halfway up a mountain. There was no cell signal to call a cab. A kind server took pity on me and handed me an umbrella. I thanked her, then, holding the umbrella with one hand and the heavy train of my dress with the other, I started the long, difficult walk down the mountain. The slanted rain soaked through my dress, a bitter cold seeping into my bones. The back of my heels were rubbed raw, a bloody mess. When my phone finally buzzed with a signal, a dozen messages flooded in. All from Julian. Every single one was an accusation. He’d already explained that Lily was just like a sister to him, so why did I have to keep targeting her? I ignored him. A second later, a video came through from an unknown number. It showed Julian at the hospital, holding Lily’s hand tightly as she went through some tests, periodically kissing her fingertips, his eyes red as he begged her to be okay. I thought back to when I first found out I was pregnant. I had fainted in the bathroom from low blood sugar. I broke my leg in the fall, and a sharp pain radiated from my stomach. Terrified, my first instinct was to call him, to seek his comfort. He had just barked at me over the phone, “I’m not a doctor, what good is calling me?” I was in the hospital for two weeks. He never showed up once. I found out later that on the same day I fell, Lily had cut her hand while cooking. The doctor told her it might leave a scar, and she cried hysterically. So Julian had vented all his worry and frustration on me. I stopped walking and laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. It had taken me far too long to wake up. That’s why I was in this humiliating mess. As I was trying to hail a cab, Julian called. After a barrage of insults, he was breathing heavily. He told me I’d scared Lily so badly she was having heart palpitations, and that I needed to get my ass over to the hospital and apologize. I struggled to keep the flimsy umbrella steady. “I’m still at the hotel,” I said calmly. Just then, a bolt of lightning split the dark sky, followed by a deafening clap of thunder. Julian’s tone shifted. “It’s pouring out there. They didn’t take you home? I’ll come get…” He was cut off by Lily’s sobbing in the background. “Is Grace angry? It’s all my fault. Maybe I should have just died when I was abroad…” Julian’s voice immediately softened as he soothed her. Then he turned his anger back on me. “You brought this on yourself. What do you have to be upset about? It was five minutes, Grace. If you had just been a little more gracious, I wouldn’t have left you…” The last thread of hope inside me snapped. I cut him off, a ghost of a smile on my lips. “Let’s get a divorce. I’m not apologizing to Lily. I was never the one in the wrong. You two were.” If they couldn’t let each other go, why did he ever come into my life in the first place? He was the one who confessed his feelings first. He was the one who promised me forever. That’s why I chose him without hesitation. Ten years. Were their feelings and their history so precious, while mine were worthless? After hanging up, I finally got a cab. As I sat in the back seat, another text from Julian arrived: 【Grace, when you do something wrong, you admit it. You’ve been mine for ten years. You’re used goods. Who else would want you? Especially now that you’ve schemed your way into getting pregnant with my child.】 I stared at the screen, numb. I thought nothing could possibly hurt more than what had already happened today. I was wrong. I rolled down the window, letting the cold wind whip against my face, the sting slowly clearing my chaotic mind. I told the driver to turn around. We were going to the hospital. 3. I walked into the hospital lobby in my mud-stained wedding dress. A nurse immediately asked if I needed help. I told her calmly that I was there for an abortion. She stared at me for a moment, her eyes filling with sympathy, then led me to the third floor. Lying on the operating table, listening to the strong, steady heartbeat of my child on the ultrasound monitor, I made one last call to Julian. Lily answered, crying and apologizing profusely. Then Julian snatched the phone. He sneered, “Grace, it’s too late to be sorry now. You caused Lily so much pain. Unless you get over here right now and get on your knees to beg for her forgiveness, I will never forgive you.” The words I was about to say died in my throat. I looked at the doctor. “Please, you can begin.” “The baby is very healthy. Are you sure you don’t want to discuss this with the father?” “There’s no need.” … When I returned to our apartment, nothing had changed. It seemed Julian had been with Lily this whole time. I opened Lily’s social media. She’d posted several new updates. The high-and-mighty Julian Thorne, cooking for the woman he loved. It drew a chorus of envious comments. I saved every single picture, then turned off my phone. I packed a small bag and checked into a hotel. After a long, hot bath, the chill finally started to leave my body. I took a few days off work. As my body started to recover, my mother called incessantly, asking if I had made up with Julian yet. I told her it was over between us. Her histrionics were more than I could handle, so I just stopped answering her calls. When I returned to the office, everyone looked at me strangely. My colleague, Sarah, pulled me over to my desk. I finally noticed that my story was all over the news sites. “I can’t believe I’ve been working next to a secret millionaire!” she said, grabbing my hand, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock and envy. “I always thought Lily was the future Mrs. Thorne. I had no idea it was you, Grace.” I managed a weak smile and scanned the articles. Someone had filmed the scene at the wedding and posted it online, spinning a lurid tale of a wealthy heir choosing his mistress over his wife. Julian’s bizarre behavior had even started to affect the Thorne Corporation’s reputation. Before, I would have been frantic to help him manage the scandal. But now that I was leaving him, I couldn’t be bothered. At the end of the workday, Julian was waiting for me at the company entrance, something he’d never done before. I tried to slip away, but he caught up to me in a few long strides and forced me into his car. “Still angry? A wedding or a person’s life, Grace, which is more important?” “You’re a grown woman. Running away from home and talking about divorce… aren’t you being childish?” “Alright, enough. You’ve always wanted to go to that planetarium restaurant downtown, right? I’ll take you now.” He opened the glove compartment, took out a gift box, and tossed it into my lap. A diamond ring rolled out. It looked significantly more expensive than the one from the wedding. Julian looked at me with a self-satisfied smirk, as if to say, There, you should be happy now. “Lily’s heart is weak. Since that ring is already on her finger, she can keep it. This one cost a lot more, so stop being so petty.” I toyed with the ring. The $99,999 price tag was still attached. He must have bought it on his way here. It used to be that when I was upset, he would cook for me, patiently watch movies with me, or spend a whole day shopping to find the perfect gift. Now he was just like his family, putting a price tag on my feelings and expecting me to be grateful. I put the ring back in its box and shook my head. “This is too much. You should save it for Lily.” “And I’m not throwing a tantrum. Since you and Lily can’t let each other go, I’ll give her my spot as Mrs. Thorne. We should find some time to finalize the divorce.” We had already gotten the marriage license before the ceremony. Now we had to legally undo it. I once overheard him at a dinner with Lily and their friends. Someone had asked why a man like him would fall for a plain woman like me. He popped a peeled grape into Lily’s mouth and laughed. “It’s not love. But Grace was with me for ten years, and now she’s pregnant. It would be cruel not to marry her. It’s just a title. It’s nothing to give her.” To him, our marriage was charity. To me, it was everything. But now that I didn’t love him anymore, I didn’t want the title either. I thought he would be happy that I was setting him free. Instead, his eyes turned red with fury. He slammed his hand on the steering wheel. “Grace! What’s the point of saying all this? You spent years acting like a dog trying to please my parents, and you schemed to get pregnant. It was all to become Mrs. Thorne! Don’t tell me you’re doing this for my sake. How ridiculous can you be?” “So the wedding didn’t happen. We’ll have another one! And whose fault was that anyway? I agreed to marry you, and all I did was propose to Lily. You’re the one who acted like a shrew!” He always said I schemed to get pregnant. But he was the one who said he wanted his parents to accept me, that he wanted us to have a child of our own. He only started regretting it after Lily came back, and then he blamed it all on me. He laid on the horn, a long, piercing blast. The old me would have been crying, apologizing, trying to explain. Now, I didn’t have the energy to argue. I just turned and looked out the window. After a long silence, when he didn’t get the tearful apology he was expecting, he turned to me. “Grace,” he said, his voice softer. I closed my eyes and didn’t answer. The GPS occasionally announced our route. When we were just a block from the restaurant, his phone rang. It was Lily, crying that her heart was acting up again, asking if she was going to die. Frankly, I was sick of hearing it. Ever since she returned, her heart conveniently acted up on every holiday, every special occasion. Anyone could see she was faking it. Anyone but Julian. I spoke first. “You can drop me off at the next corner.” Julian looked at me, surprised. “You’re not angry? You’re not going to insist on coming with me?” I shook my head. I used to hate him being alone with her, so I’d offer to go with him to help take care of her. He would explode, calling me disgusting and petty, telling me to learn to be as pure and kind as Lily. His lips tightened. His phone was still vibrating. He pulled over at the intersection. I grabbed my bag, but as I went to get out, he grabbed my wrist. His expression was complicated. “I’ll just go check on her. I’ll come back and take you to dinner later. Don’t worry, the position of Mrs. Thorne is yours. Don’t be angry.” “Mhm, I’m not angry,” I said, trying to pull my arm away. He held on tighter. “Grace, you’re different. Why aren’t you…” “Jealous?” I finished for him, a small, cold smile on my face. “Why would I be jealous? The poor girl sees you as a big brother. It’s only natural she’d call you first when she’s in trouble. You should go.” I pried his fingers off my wrist and got out of the car. I hailed another cab, went back to the hotel, ate at the buffet, and went straight to bed. Sometime in the middle of the night, Julian called. He explained that Lily couldn’t be left alone, so he couldn’t take me to dinner and that I shouldn’t wait up. I just said, “I already ate.” There was a long silence on his end, then he asked through gritted teeth, “Are you really going to be like this?” I just said, “Yes,” and hung up, rolling over and falling back asleep. The next morning, I saw a text from him, warning me not to play with fire. 4. When I got to work, I understood what he meant. All the projects I had been managing were now under Lily’s name. She was my new team lead. She would smile sweetly as she assigned me an endless list of menial tasks. Julian came every day to take her to lunch. He would look at me with eyes as cold as stone. The scandal online was only getting worse. He told me I had to attend a press conference with him on Monday. I was to explain that Lily wasn’t a homewrecker. The story would be that I had taken advantage of her being abroad to get between them, and then used my pregnancy to force him into marriage. He made it sound so simple. I would still be the enviable Mrs. Thorne; I would just have to endure a little public scorn. This way, the company’s reputation would be saved, and Lily wouldn’t be affected. He said this was all my fault for being so difficult at the wedding, so it was only right that I fix it. Of course, I refused. I blocked his number. Then his parents came to see me, warning me to do as I was told and not to think that being pregnant with their grandchild gave me a free pass. I gave them the same treatment as Julian. And then I resigned from my job. I was good at what I did, and I’d had offers from other companies before. But now, when I reached out, they were all strangely hesitant. I knew it was the Thornes’ doing. They were trying to force my hand. But this time, I wouldn’t give in. After another failed job application, a former client contacted me. He said his company was expanding their overseas operations and needed someone with my skills. The pay was comparable to what I was making at the Thorne Corporation, but the job was abroad. He asked if I was interested. I was an only child. Thinking of my parents, I told him I’d consider it. When I got back to the hotel, my dad called. He said my mom’s headaches were back. I rushed home. When I opened the door, Julian was there. My mother took my bag, looking perfectly healthy. I stared at her, my heart sinking. I knew, once again, I had been sold out by my own parents. 5. At the dinner table, Julian sat beside me, constantly putting food on my plate. The three of them were a picture of harmony, as if they were the real family. My mother couldn’t stop praising him. “Julian is such a wonderful son-in-law. Not only is his family prominent, but he’s so considerate of Grace.” My father, despite being the elder, had a sycophantic smile on his face as he poured Julian wine, telling him that I was the one who had been too impulsive at the wedding, and that they were grateful for Julian’s tolerance. Their groveling made my resolve crumble. My eyes burned. I clutched the glass of milk my mother had placed in front of me. “It’s fine,” Julian said, his eyes fixed on me with a look of smug contempt. “We’re going to be husband and wife. Even if Grace makes a mistake, I’ll be patient. But about the press conference…” My grip tightened. Milk spilled over the rim of the glass, dripping onto the floor. I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked at my parents. “Am I your daughter or not? Why is it that my entire life, whenever there’s a problem, you never, ever stand by my side? I told you, I’m done with Julian Thorne!” Julian’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t understand why, after giving in so many times, I was being so stubborn now. My mother paused, then threw the milky rag she was using to clean the table at my head. Sticky, gray-streaked milk ran down my face. She turned to Julian with an apologetic smile. “Julian, it’s my fault. I didn’t raise her right, to make such a fuss over something so small.” Then she slapped me across the face, her voice sharp. “Grace, do you think you’re still a twenty-year-old girl? You’re thirty! A woman on the wrong side of thirty is damaged goods. Julian is willing to overlook that, to overlook your tantrums. You should be grateful! And you want a divorce? Do you have any decency?” “It was a tiny incident at a wedding! How long are you going to drag this out? If you won’t think about yourself, at least think about your baby and your parents!” My face stung, the print of her hand burning my cheek. Julian seemed surprised that my mother would actually hit me. He shot to his feet and steadied me, taking her next blow on his own shoulder. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern. “Let me take you to the hospital.” Then he turned to my mother. “Ma’am, she is my wife, and she is carrying my child. If this ever happens again, I don’t care if you’re her mother, I will not be so understanding.” My mother froze. I let out a bitter laugh, my eyes full of disgust. “Julian, stop pretending to be the good guy. Isn’t this exactly what you wanted to see?” My look seemed to unnerve him. For the first time, the ever-confident Julian Thorne looked lost. “Grace, you…” “So, this is how badly you want me to take the fall for Lily, isn’t it? Fine. I’ll go to your press conference. But you’ll all regret it.” With that, I slammed the door behind me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386584”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Just because I was pregnant, his widowed sister-in-law threatened to kill herself. To appease her, my husband insisted I have an abortion, just to put her mind at ease. “Eleanor is just so lonely since my brother died,” he told me. “I’m just taking care of her for him, giving her a child. Don’t overthink it.” When I refused, he drugged me and took me to the clinic himself. When I woke up, my eyes were burning with tears. “Samuel, just because she was unhappy, you’ve made me lose three children!” He was impatient. “It’s just a baby. We can have another one later.” “For now, Eleanor needs to prepare for the pregnancy, so I’ll be staying with her. I’ll come back after she conceives.” He and Eleanor left together, hand in hand. A month later, Eleanor returned, one hand resting on her still-flat stomach. “I’m pregnant,” she announced. “You’ll have to take good care of Samuel for me now.” I burned the letter in my hand. It was from the city. The wedding date is set. I’m coming to get you. … 1 Samuel glanced at the smoldering paper in the hearth. “What are you burning?” My voice was flat. “Nothing.” He looked at me, a flicker of guilt in his eyes, and reached for my hand. “Phoebe, I know you’re still angry about what happened.” “But you shouldn’t have used your pregnancy to provoke her.” “You know how fragile she’s been ever since my brother and nephew died in that accident.” “This is for the best. I give Eleanor a child, she has a new reason to live, and our lives can finally be peaceful.” “If you want a baby that badly, we’ll have our own next time.” “No, thank you.” I pulled my hand away. This wasn’t the first time he’d forced me to abort our child because of Eleanor. The thought of my three lost babies made it hard to breathe. He wanted to make amends, but I was done. Samuel thought I was just sulking. He tried to coax me again. “It’s just one baby… Eleanor promised that after the child is born, she’ll leave us alone. We can have as many as we want then.” “She’s being so generous about it. Why are you still holding a grudge?” Eleanor, standing beside him, added with a soft smile, “Yes, Phoebe, please don’t be upset.” I almost laughed out loud. We were husband and wife, but we needed an outsider’s permission to have a child. It was a sick joke. I took a deep breath and handed him the divorce papers I’d prepared. “Samuel, let’s file for divorce.” Seven years of my life, three of my children. It was the price I paid for loving the wrong man. It was time to walk away. As I grabbed my packed suitcase, Eleanor’s eyes lit up. Samuel didn’t see it. He was staring at the papers, his whole body shaking with rage. Eleanor lowered her gaze, the picture of innocence. “Phoebe, I know you’re angry with me, but you don’t have to resort to these games. The baby is innocent.” That snapped him out of it. He tore the papers to shreds. “Don’t think you can manipulate me, Phoebe,” he sneered. “And don’t forget, if it weren’t for me, a disgraced tycoon’s daughter like you would have nothing!” The words were a dagger in my heart. In this new era, my family’s past was a stain. Samuel, on the other hand, had come from nothing, a former militia man who had clawed his way up to the rank of Commander. He truly believed I owed my comfortable life entirely to him. Seeing my silence, his tone softened. “Alright, Phoebe. Let’s just forget this. Stop making a scene.” “Eleanor and I have discussed it. We’re going to have a ceremony, to give the unborn child a name.” “But don’t worry,” he added, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “We’ll get a ‘divorce’ as soon as the baby is born. You are my only real wife.” Eleanor’s expression darkened for a split second. “The reception is today. We’ve already arranged everything. You’ll come with us, as a witness. With you there, people won’t gossip.” He tried to take my arm, his voice turning gentle. “After the ceremony, I’ll move back in. Eleanor has just conceived, so I need you to take good care of her.” I ripped my arm away, trembling with fury. “Samuel, she’s carrying your child, and you want me to be her nursemaid?” His eyes flashed. “You’re my wife! What’s wrong with looking after my sister-in-law and my child? Besides, when the baby is born, it’ll have to call you ‘Auntie’ anyway.” I sucked in a breath. “I refuse! I told you, I want a divorce!” Samuel’s face hardened. Before he could speak, Eleanor sighed, her voice thick with emotion. “Phoebe, are you still holding this against me? If you hate me, I’ll leave. I’ll never come between you and Samuel again. But please, I beg you, let me keep this baby. It’s the only thing I have to live for.” “Please don’t use these tactics to force Samuel to get rid of another one…” She looked as if she was about to drop to her knees. Samuel rushed to her side, pulling her up, his voice urgent and tender. “Eleanor, this isn’t your fault. You don’t need to kneel to her.” The way he looked at her, full of concern… it was the same way he had looked at me, all those years ago when he first told me he loved me. He soothed Eleanor, then turned to face me. His eyes were ice. “Don’t push your luck, Phoebe.” “We’ve both told you, this is temporary. The baby and Eleanor are no threat to your position. What more do you want?” “The ceremony is about to start. I don’t have time for this. Let’s go.” He glanced at his watch and reached for me. I slapped his hand away and turned to leave. That was the last straw. He grabbed the heavy thermos from a nearby table and smashed it over my head. CRACK— The world spun. A dull, blooming pain exploded at the back of my skull. I froze, stunned. After a few seconds, I reached up to touch the spot. My fingertips came away slick with red. Slowly, I turned to look at him. Samuel stared for a moment, then his face hardened again. “You asked for this.” “I told you, today is the ceremony. I don’t have time to play your games!” He shoved me violently toward the door, then called for two of his men. They manhandled me into the back of a pickup truck waiting outside. Eleanor, holding his arm, climbed in after me. “When we get there, you keep your mouth shut,” Samuel warned. “You’ll tell everyone that you and I divorced a long time ago, and this has nothing to do with Eleanor. If you damage her reputation, don’t blame me for what happens next.” Rage ignited inside me. “Samuel, when will this end? I told you, I want a divorce—” SLAP— His hand cracked across my face before I could finish. “Phoebe, you can have your tantrum after today!” The blow left my head ringing. He looked at me with disgust, then pulled a piece of cloth from the dashboard and threw it at me. “Wipe the blood off your face. Don’t give people the wrong idea.” I looked down. The cloth… was a pair of women’s panties. I went rigid. Eleanor noticed and snatched them back, a strange mix of embarrassment and playful annoyance on her face. “Samuel, I thought you put these away. Why are they still here?” He glanced at them, a flicker of discomfort crossing his face. “Must have overlooked them.” He grabbed a clean rag and tossed it to me. The thought of what they had done in this truck made my stomach turn. I moved to get out. Samuel’s voice was a blade of ice. “Phoebe, disobedience has consequences.” I remembered the last time. Because Eleanor had complained my cooking was bland, he had poured a pot of scalding soup over my shoulder. I was covered in blistering burns, but he forbade the local clinic from treating me. I spent two weeks in agony, fighting off infection and fever, until my body finally gave out or gave in. The right side of my shoulder is still a mass of scarred tissue. The memory made me sink back into my seat. Seeing my submission, Eleanor smiled and leaned against Samuel, starting a cheerful conversation, asking if he was tired, asking if the baby was bothering him. I knew she was trying to provoke me. To make me lash out so Samuel would punish me again. It was an old, familiar game. But this time, I just closed my eyes. My lack of reaction seemed to annoy Samuel. His face fell. The ceremony was being held at the Officer’s Club in the city. When we arrived, my legs were unsteady. He shot me a look of contempt. “You’re a mess. Clean yourself up.” “And when you get inside, you behave.” He nodded to his two men, then let Eleanor lead him into the club. The summer sun beat down, making my head spin even more. I licked my cracked lips and forced myself to walk inside. The room was filled with Samuel’s friends and colleagues. When he and Eleanor entered, cheers erupted. When I followed, the room fell silent. Everyone stared. “She came?” someone whispered. Eleanor spoke up, her voice clear. “I invited Phoebe to be our witness today.” The guests exchanged uneasy looks, then forced a few laughs. Their eyes, when they looked at me, were filled with scorn. “She still has the nerve to show her face? Shameless.” Eleanor smoothed things over. Samuel stood beside her, his arm around her. They were both dressed in their finest—Eleanor in a smart, tailored suit and polished shoes, her face glowing. I, on the other hand, looked like a ghost, my hair matted with blood, my face deathly pale. “Right! This is a joyous occasion!” someone shouted. “Commander, Ms. Eleanor, congratulations!” Eleanor smiled, tightening her grip on Samuel’s waist and glancing at me. Then she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. The crowd roared. “Another one! Another one!” Samuel blushed but leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips. They melted into each other, oblivious to the world, lost in a deep, passionate kiss. The guests cheered and clapped, their eyes darting to me, hungry for the drama. They all knew how desperately I loved Samuel. In the past, I’d chased off any woman who showed an interest in him. When he first brought Eleanor to live in the compound, I had lost my mind, screaming, smashing things, even threatening him with a knife to make him send her away. To everyone here, I was the crazy one. But now, I just stood there, perfectly still. All I could think was, They’re so in love. Maybe now he’ll finally agree to the divorce. After a moment, as if just remembering I was there, Eleanor pulled away. “Samuel, Phoebe is watching. This isn’t right…” He glanced at me, unconcerned. “Who cares about her?” Eleanor patted his arm playfully, then looked at me with an apologetic expression. “Phoebe… don’t be angry. Samuel didn’t mean it.” “I’m not angry.” I offered a faint smile. “Seeing you two so happy, I can only wish you the best.” I looked at Samuel. “If you truly love each other this much, you should have signed the papers a long time ago, for her sake.” His face went cold. Eleanor looked panicked. “Phoebe… don’t misunderstand. Samuel and I are only doing this for the baby…” “After the baby is born, I’ll leave him.” Someone in the crowd scoffed. “Are you crazy, Phoebe? The Commander and Ms. Eleanor are in love. They have a child on the way. And you’re still trying to break them up?” “Don’t you know that makes you the other woman?” The speaker was Corporal Davis, one of Samuel’s subordinates and his biggest supporter. None of his men thought my background was good enough for him. “Please, don’t say that about Phoebe…” Eleanor pleaded, tears welling in her eyes. “It’s all my fault…” Seeing her cry, Samuel’s heart melted. He comforted her for a long moment before turning his fury on me. “Phoebe, how many times do I have to tell you to behave?” “Eleanor has the kindest heart. Does it make you happy to see her cry?” I knew he only had eyes for her. It didn’t even hurt anymore. “You’re right. My mistake. I’ll leave.” I turned to go, but Eleanor rushed forward and grabbed my arm. “Phoebe, no… I should be the one to leave, not you…” I tried to pull my hand free. In the next second, her expression changed. She threw herself backward, crashing into a nearby table. A pot of hot tea overturned, splashing onto her arm. She screamed in pain. “Eleanor!” Samuel shoved me aside and ran to her. The force of his push sent me stumbling into a chair, the corner digging sharply into my back. Pain flared through my body, aggravating my existing injuries. “Samuel…” Eleanor whimpered, cradled in his arms, a red blotch already forming on her skin. “It’s not Phoebe’s fault, it was me…” Her words were meant to sound like a defense, but they only fueled Samuel’s rage. “Phoebe! Do you have to be so malicious? Do you have to hurt her?” “Fine. Words don’t get through to you. Maybe I need to teach you a lesson you’ll remember!” He cupped Eleanor’s injured hand, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper. “Eleanor, she hurt you. What should her punishment be?” Eleanor feigned reluctance. “Samuel, we shouldn’t…” His voice was grim. “You’re too kind! A vicious woman like her needs to be punished!” “Even if you wanted her dead, she would deserve it!” The guests stared at me with amusement and contempt. A chill washed over me. The whole situation was laughable. Ten years together, seven years of marriage, and he didn’t have a shred of trust in me. Eleanor didn’t even have to try. She won without a fight. Finally, Eleanor spoke, her voice laced with false sympathy. “The hot water spilled on me… so I suppose it’s only fair she gets the same.” Samuel didn’t hesitate. “Davis,” he commanded. “Fetch a bucket of hot water!” Davis ran to the kitchen and returned with a steaming bucket. My pupils shrank. I backed away instinctively. “Samuel! You’ll kill me!” “You know my health is poor…” A few years ago, during a major flood, he had been on the front lines and gone missing. I had searched for him for three days and nights, wading through the floodwaters. A falling tree had crushed my leg, but I ignored the pain and kept searching until I found him. The wound became infected from the contaminated water, and I was hospitalized for three months. Ever since, my immune system has been compromised. I’m prone to infections and allergic reactions. A major burn could be a death sentence. He paused. But then Eleanor moaned beside him. “It’s fine, Samuel, I’m okay…” His expression hardened. “You hurt her first. This is what you deserve.” “If you die, you’ll have brought it on yourself!” My heart clenched. I stared at him in disbelief. When he had learned how badly I was injured saving him, he had cried, staying by my bedside, caring for me himself, terrified I would have the slightest discomfort. When the doctors told him about the permanent damage to my health, he had held me, his eyes red, and promised he would protect me, that he would nurse me back to health no matter how difficult it was. But now… everything had changed. He nodded at Davis. Davis and another man blocked my path. He smiled cruelly, advancing with the bucket. Seeing the steam rising from the water, I tried to run. They grabbed me and forced me to the floor. “Ms. Xie,” Davis sneered, “if you just accept your punishment, it will be over quickly. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee things won’t get… messy.” I shook my head, screaming for help. No one moved. They all knew who held the power here. Davis laughed, and lifted the bucket. SPLASH— A wave of scalding water crashed over me. I curled into a ball, trying to shield my head with my back. Searing pain exploded across my skin. I screamed. The world went dark at the edges. I lay on the floor, my body convulsing. The air filled with the sickening smell of burned flesh. It felt as if my skin was being peeled off. Davis laughed again. “Well, look at that, Ms. Xie. I didn’t know you could breakdance.” The crowd joined in the mockery. My body twitched in agony, a roar filling my ears. Through the haze, I heard Samuel’s voice, cold as a blade. “You deserve it! You hurt Eleanor, you pay the price!” I struggled to lift my head, my vision blurred with pain. I could only see his distorted, monstrous silhouette. Nothing remained of the man I once loved. I stared at him, a white-hot hatred consuming me. He knew what he had done to my body, how fragile I was. And still, he did this, just to please her. “You’re right. It is my fault.” “My mistake was ever knowing you.” My empty, numb gaze seemed to unnerve him. A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but he quickly suppressed it. “Still unrepentant, Phoebe?” “It seems you haven’t suffered enough!” He snatched another bucket of hot water from Davis and poured it over me. A piercing scream ripped through the club. Every cell in my body was on fire. My exposed skin was blistering and peeling away. Still not satisfied, he grabbed my raw, burned hand and dragged me in front of Eleanor. “If you still won’t admit you’re wrong, then you will kneel here and beg for her forgiveness!” “Nine hundred and ninety-nine times. We’ll be done when you’re done!” I was numb with pain. I looked up at him. “If I do it, will you sign the papers?” His eyes blazed. He couldn’t understand why I was being so defiant. In the past, he only had to raise his voice, and I would crumble. Today, I wouldn’t break. I repeated, “Promise me, and I’ll do it.” He looked like he wanted to strangle me. Eleanor put a hand on his arm. “Samuel, just agree. She’s in a pitiful state.” He took her hand, his voice softening. “Alright. Whatever you say.” Then he glared at me. “Fine, I promise!” Eleanor shot me a triumphant look. “Phoebe, this is your only chance. Don’t waste it.” I fought through the pain, forced myself to my knees, and began to bow my head to the floor. One after another. Blood and sloughed-off skin smeared the tiles. My whole body felt like it was splitting open. It was a horrific sight. I continued like a machine, feeling nothing. Samuel’s expression, however, grew darker and darker. Someone in the crowd murmured, “This is too much…” “She shouldn’t have crossed Ms. Eleanor. Everyone knows she’s the Commander’s whole world.” Eleanor beamed at the comment and kissed Samuel again. I ignored them. My indifference seemed to spoil his mood. Suddenly, he spoke. “Phoebe is badly hurt. If she keeps this up, she might actually die.” “How about this instead? If she drinks a cup of urine, I’ll call it even.” She smiled sweetly. “They say urine is a natural antiseptic. It would be good for her wounds.” My head snapped up. Before I could speak, Samuel said, “Enough.” For a second, I thought he’d found his conscience. But then he continued, “We’ll do as Eleanor says. She’s a teacher. She knows what she’s talking about.” “This is for your own good,” he added, as if granting me a great favor. I laughed, a silent, broken sound. I was a fool to think he had any humanity left. He would do anything to please her. My laughter seemed to make him uneasy. He lowered his voice. “Phoebe, just drink it, and we can go back to how things were.” “After the baby is born,” he whispered, “we’ll be happy again.” I smiled. After torturing and humiliating me for her, he thought we could just go back? Seeing that I wasn’t responding, his patience wore thin. “Davis! Hold her down! Make her drink it!” Davis and two other men pinned me. Eleanor returned with a bowl of foul-smelling liquid and handed it to Davis with a smirk. “Don’t waste it, Phoebe.” Davis brought the bowl to my lips. The stench made me gag. I shook my head, struggling, fighting with everything I had left. The movement tore at my burned skin, and fresh blood welled up. Samuel’s voice was suddenly gentle. “Phoebe, it’s for your own good.” “Be a good girl. After you drink it, I’ll take you to the hospital.” I stared at him with pure hatred, but Davis forced my head toward the bowl. The overwhelming pain and humiliation finally consumed me. A wave of blackness washed over me. I coughed up a mouthful of blood and collapsed. I was dying. The last thing I saw was Samuel’s panicked face rushing toward me.

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The second I was reborn, I signed the divorce papers without a moment’s hesitation. Terry Vance’s mistress was all over the news. To save her from the “homewrecker” label, he’d come to me with the papers, his voice pleading. “Leo died saving my life,” he’d begged. “Molly is his only sister. I can’t just abandon her. You understand that, don’t you?” Years ago, Terry had been targeted by a business rival. His car’s brakes were cut. In the final, spinning moments of chaos, his best friend, Leo, had thrown himself into the driver’s seat, wrenching the wheel. Terry walked away without a scratch. Leo bled out on the asphalt, his last breath a plea for Terry to look after his little sister, Molly. For years, Terry had honored that debt, showering Molly with a devotion that bordered on obsessive. In my last life, when I realized he was willing to sacrifice me for her, I shattered. I tore the divorce papers to shreds. But it ended the same way. The stomach cancer diagnosis came later. By then, I was ready to let Terry go, to let myself go. But Molly’s whispered words, “Do you think she’s faking it just to torture you, Terry?” sealed my fate. He became convinced I was lying, that my illness was just another manipulative game. To escape the media storm and finalize our split, he framed me for cheating and sued for divorce. Hopeless, I ended my own life. 1 “Vivian, we’ll tell the public we were planning to divorce a year ago. We’ll say we kept it quiet for personal reasons.” I was staring into a glass of water on the restaurant table when Terry’s voice cut through my thoughts. Just yesterday, the paparazzi had released photos implying Molly was his lover. The word “mistress” exploded online, and a tidal wave of hate crashed down on her. Terry Vance, CEO of Vance Corporation, was branded an adulterer, and the company’s stock plummeted overnight. In my last life, I’d laughed at those grainy photos, scoffing at how easily the public could be misled. My laughter died on my lips the moment Terry slid the divorce papers across the table. It turned into a bitter, endless irony. I had screamed at him then, demanding to know what was real and what was a lie. There were a million ways to handle a baseless rumor, yet he chose the one that threw me to the wolves. “Vivian,” Terry’s voice pulled me back to the present. “Trust me, this is just for show. Once the dust settles, we’ll get married again.” I slowly lifted my head, my gaze falling on the document between us. “You have to understand, Vivian. I’ll make it up to you when this is all over, I promise.” He wrapped an arm around me, his eyes, so often lauded for their depth and sincerity, searching mine. He softened his voice, a low, cooing tone he used when he wanted something. I remained silent. Standing beside him, Molly looked ghostly pale, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Vivian, please,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’m begging you, please help us.” “My brother is gone. I have no one else… I don’t know who else to turn to. Please.” With that, she went rigid, as if to drop to her knees. Terry moved like lightning, catching her by the waist and pulling her into his arms. “What are you doing?” he hissed at Molly, but his sharp, irritated glare was fixed on me. “I’ve already made my decision. I expect you to cooperate at the press conference tomorrow. Or else—” “I’ll sign.” I cut him off, tired of watching their pathetic charade. And I knew exactly what “or else” meant. In my last life, not long after I tore up the papers, I was drugged and photographed in a compromising position with a stranger. The “evidence” of my affair was leaked. Overnight, I went from being the victim to a reviled slut. And they, the ones truly at fault, walked away clean, their reputations scrubbed spotless. 2 Terry blinked, clearly stunned by my quick agreement. “I’ll sign,” I repeated, “but on one condition.” I looked up at him, my gaze as calm and still as a frozen lake. A complex emotion flickered across his face. After a short pause, he nodded. “Anything. Name any other terms you want. I’ll do my best to meet them.” I didn’t answer. I just picked up the pen, flipped to the last page of the agreement, and signed my name—Vivian Sterling—with a steady, clean stroke. “You’re not even going to read the terms?” Terry’s brow furrowed, his eyes filled with a confused, searching light. I smiled faintly. “No need. It doesn’t matter.” I capped the pen and pushed the document toward him. “Is there anything else?” My voice was flat, as if I were discussing the weather. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning. We’ll go to the courthouse.” I gave a slight nod but said nothing more. Terry’s expression was a tangled mess of emotions, but in the end, he just sighed, turned, and left. Molly followed him. At the door, she paused, glancing back at me from the corner of her eye. A smirk played on her lips. Slowly, deliberately, she mouthed three words: I won. Then she was gone. In my last life, she did win. And I lost everything. But this time, I refused to lose. Not one single thing. A while later, my phone screen lit up. A message from Ryan. Viv, I heard from Terry. I know what he did was wrong. But you know how long it took him to get over Leo’s death. He’s pouring all his guilt for Leo into taking care of Molly. He told me that once the media storm dies down, he’s going to throw you another, even grander wedding. Just trust him, okay? I let out a soft, humorless laugh, but my eyes burned with tears. It was the same script as last time. When Terry couldn’t get me to sign the papers, he’d turned to his friends for advice. He’d forgotten that his friends were also my friends. Blinded by his own drama, he couldn’t see the truth. But Ryan could. Ryan had tried so hard to talk sense into him, begging Terry not to throw away his marriage for Molly. Then he’d come to me, singing Terry’s praises, telling me what a loyal and honorable man he was. If Leo hadn’t shielded Terry with his own body, Terry would be dead. Back then, I had sobbed, my words choked with rage. “He’s put her first for years! I know he feels guilty, and I’ve tried to be understanding. But now… there are a million ways to clear up this mess, and he chooses to sacrifice me—to sacrifice twelve years of our life together.” Ryan had opened his mouth, but no words came out. He had asked Terry the same question. Terry’s answer had been chillingly simple: “Someone has to get hurt. I can only fail Vivian. She loves me. She’ll understand my position.” Just because I loved him, I was the one to be sacrificed? What kind of twisted logic was that? Thankfully, this time, I still had a chance to save myself. 3 When it came to Molly, Terry was ruthlessly efficient. He got the signed papers from me one day and scheduled a press conference for the next morning. I was sitting in the garden when Terry’s assistant, led by our housekeeper, approached me. “Ms. Sterling,” he said, his tone formal. “Mr. Vance sent me to escort you to the Vance Corporation press conference.” Before I could reply, he must have mistaken my silence for refusal. He relayed Terry’s message verbatim. “Ms. Sterling, even if it’s not for Mr. Vance’s sake, you should attend for the sake of your own reputation.” I paused, then let out a small, dry chuckle. He was threatening me again. Afraid I’d back out at the last minute, resorting to the same tactics that broke me in my past life. He was willing to ruin me to protect Molly, to bend me to his will until I had no choice but to obey. I’d never understood it. In Terry’s heart, was I his wife or his enemy? Now, he wanted to publicly clarify our relationship. So did I. The car glided toward Aethelburg’s most luxurious hotel. The entrance was a chaotic sea of reporters and flashing lights. The assistant guided me through the throng and into the lobby. “Excuse me, please make way.” Terry’s voice came from behind. I turned. Molly, a vision in a white dress, was on his arm. They looked like a perfect couple. My eyes met Terry’s. For a fraction of a second, we locked gazes, and then he looked away, his expression coolly indifferent. He guided Molly forward, their movements intimate, as if the world around them—including me—didn’t exist. A self-mocking laugh escaped my lips. “Ms. Sterling, is it true that you and Mr. Vance are divorced?” The question came from a young man who looked like an intern, his voice timid. “Yes,” I replied, a polite smile on my face as I nodded. He seemed determined to find a crack in my composure. “But… you and Mr. Vance met in college, didn’t you? You dated for five years and were married for seven…” he pressed on. “Just last month, he bought you a luxury yacht. And the fireworks display for your birthday was the talk of the city…” My smile didn’t waver, but my eyes were distant. “He owed me that.” He missed my birthday because Molly had called him, whispering, “Terry, I miss my brother. Can you stay with me?” The yacht and the fireworks were his apology gifts. In my last life, I’d been so proud of those grand gestures. It never occurred to me to question the reason behind the “compensation.” I only learned later it had all been Ryan’s idea. Terry hadn’t been involved at all. He didn’t even know where the fireworks had been set off. “You say he owed you,” the intern persisted, his voice laced with nervous energy as the surrounding noise faded. “But what about your feelings for Mr. Vance?” Terry’s head turned toward me, his brow slightly furrowed. I smiled, a slow, chilling curve of my lips, and my gaze turned to ice. “I don’t love him anymore.” 4 The intern started to ask another question, but a senior reporter beside him pulled him back. I didn’t stay for the rest of the conference. Once I had clarified my relationship with Terry, I turned and walked away, ignoring the cameras that followed my every move. Overnight, public opinion did a complete 180. My interview dominated the headlines for days. Terry’s statement was the nail in the coffin: “Miss Molly was not the reason for the breakdown of our marriage,” he had said, his voice firm and resolute. “Her brother was a hero who saved my life. Molly is his only living relative, and it is my responsibility to care for her. Please, look at this situation rationally.” “Vivian and I mutually decided to end our marriage a year ago. We simply hadn’t found the right time to announce it. We wanted to handle this in a way that would cause the least amount of pain to everyone involved. We are making this public now to clear up any misunderstandings about Miss Molly.” Instantly, Molly was absolved. The “homewrecker” label was peeled away, and she was recast as the tragic, innocent victim of the whole affair. And I became the villain. The cold, heartless woman who had initiated the divorce. The internet trolls, guided by carefully placed whispers, began to speculate about the real reason for our split. I wasn’t supportive enough. I was jealous of Molly. I had twisted their pure, sibling-like bond into something sordid. I was a gold-digger who had abandoned Terry for a bigger payout… I stood at the center of a storm of accusations and lies. “Don’t pay any attention to what they’re saying online,” Terry said as we walked out of the courthouse, the fresh divorce decree in his hand. “Give it time. People will forget.” I shot him a look dripping with irony. We were both being savaged online, but somehow, Molly’s pain was unbearable while mine could simply be weathered with time. “Vivian, the holidays are only three months away,” he continued, his voice softer now. “You always loved the spring. When spring comes, we’ll have another wedding. A better one. What do you say?” His voice was low and gentle, laced with a fragile, cautious hope. He reached for my hand, but I shifted away, my eyes fixed on the reporters being held back by bodyguards a short distance away. Terry seemed to sense his misstep and took a half-step back, creating a space between us. “Terry, I’m going back to Willow Creek.” “That’s a good idea. Spend some time with your parents. I’ll come get you for the holidays and we’ll—” “I’m not coming back,” I said, cutting him off. He froze, the faint smile on his face stiffening. “Vivian, don’t say things you don’t mean. Just wait for me in Willow Creek. I’ll—” “Terry,” I interrupted him again. “You made me a promise when I signed those papers. It’s time to keep it.” He stared at me, his expression blank. When this all began, a small, foolish part of me had wondered if things could be different this time. But the moment he put those papers in front of me again, all I felt was a profound sense of release. “Terry Vance, I want you to never appear before me again for the rest of your life.”

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Six years. Six years since I’d run away with our unborn child. Now, the prodigal son of one of the city’s most powerful families was here to take him from me. I refused. I booked a flight for that very night. But as we were about to board, my son wrenched his hand from mine and screamed. “She’s not my mother! She’s a kidnapper!” Genetics, it turned out, were a terrifyingly powerful force. He had met Alex McCloud’s little gold-digger just once, and already, he loved his “new mommy” more. So I turned around. I dropped everything. Including him. I had a friend arrange my fake death. After that, I heard Alex and my son turned the entire city upside down looking for me. 1. Alex found me while I was enrolling our son in school. A fleet of black cars lined the street outside, a parade of wealth and power. It was his signature style. He kicked the door open. Before I could even look up, he grabbed the hand I was using to sign the forms. His voice was cold, leaving no room for argument. “Leo Wen will be Leo McCloud from this day forward.” Leo Wen. My son’s name. My whole body went rigid. I never thought I would see Alex McCloud again. Six years ago, he’d thrown open my bedroom door and shoved the woman he kept on the side onto my bed. He’d kissed her deeply, his hands already unknotting his tie. “Not leaving?” he’d smirked. “Want to stick around for the main event?” The woman on the bed shot me a triumphant smile. “Darling, this bed you made is heavenly. What, you want to join us?” I walked out with my head held high. I waited on the sofa for Alex all night. He finally emerged, his chest bare. “Alex,” I said, my voice steady. “Let’s end this.” He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. He sauntered over, his tone as arrogant as ever. “Upset, are we?” Suddenly, the whole charade felt pointless. Alex and I were supposed to have been a business merger, a union of two powerful families. But then my parents died in a car crash. We hadn’t gotten married yet. After that, he stopped pretending. He brought woman after woman into our home. This new one, I’d heard, had lasted three months. A new record for him. “Anya,” he murmured, his expression softening as he leaned in to kiss me. “Just say the word, and I’ll kick her out.” There was still a smudge of her lipstick on the corner of his mouth. I shot to my feet and threw my handbag square in his face. “You’re a fucking scumbag, Alex McCloud.” His face went blank. He just watched, motionless, as I turned, walked out the door, and sped away. I blocked him on everything. I never told him I was pregnant. I didn’t run far. In this city, Alex McCloud was king. If he wanted to find me, he could. But he never even looked. Until today. A woman in red stilettos stepped out from behind him. The same woman from six years ago. Isabella. She waved at my son. “Leo, darling, want to come live in a big mansion with Isabella?” 2. Leo’s big eyes blinked, clearly intimidated by the crowd of imposing figures. I immediately crouched down, pulling him into my arms, shielding him. My voice was ice. “Alex, we broke up a long time ago. My son has nothing to do with you.” I hated Alex. But Leo was the child I had nearly died to bring into this world. I was allergic to the anesthetic. Ten hours of labor without an epidural. I almost bled out on the operating table. After my parents were gone, Leo was all I had left. My palms were slick with sweat. Isabella smiled sweetly at Leo. “Leo, if you don’t come over now, I’m going to have to leave.” She made a show of turning away. And the small body in my arms stirred. Leo pulled his hand free and shoved me away with all his might. “What are you doing?! Why won’t you let me live in a mansion?” I stared at him, my world tilting. “Leo… what are you saying?” I whispered. “You’re so selfish! Why do I have to be poor because of you?” The air left my lungs. My eyes burned. I never imagined those words could come from my own child. After my parents died, my family went bankrupt. But Leo never wanted for anything. He had better clothes, better toys than any of his peers. He was a picky eater, so I took cooking classes, learning a hundred different ways to make him smile at the dinner table. He loved basketball, so I pulled every string I could to get him front-row tickets to see his favorite players. I loved him with every fiber of my being. I poured my entire life into him. And now… Isabella burst into laughter. “Oh, Anya, your son is just adorable. And you… still as pathetic and unwanted as ever, I see.” I looked up and managed a smile of my own. “What’s the matter? Can’t have one of your own? Is that something you’re proud of?” It was a wild guess, but judging by the way Alex’s face darkened, I’d hit a nerve. He gritted his teeth, enunciating each word with venom. “Anya. You have one day to get his things. I’m coming back tomorrow night to finalize the transfer.” My fists clenched. Alex McCloud always did what he said he would do. Back at our apartment, I ignored Leo. I didn’t cook him dinner. It took him a whole night of being hungry before the truth came out. He’d met Isabella before. 3. “Mama Isabella bought me limited-edition sneakers! She’s a million times better than you!” “My friends’ moms wear designer clothes! And you? You wear cheap junk!” “Mama Isabella smells so nice, not like you! You smell like the cafeteria lady at my school!” I listened, my chest heaving with a pain so sharp it felt like I was suffocating. I couldn’t tell if it was rage or grief. Leo had always been clever. Fearing I would scold him, he started crying first, his sobs wracking his small body, but he held his chin up in defiance. And I saw it then. He really, truly didn’t like me very much. How ridiculous. Six years of my life, dedicated to him. Every first step, every first word. I had watched him grow with a heart full of hope and pride. And it all meant nothing compared to the “Mama Isabella” he’d just met. He even called her Mama. “Mama Isabella told me everything. She said Daddy doesn’t like you.” His voice was resolute. “Whoever Daddy likes, she’s my real mommy!” I sat on the sofa, a dull, aching numbness spreading from my heart through my entire body. Leo was still sobbing, whining about wanting to go back to Alex’s mansion. He’d met Alex, and Alex had promised him that if he came back, everything in the house would be his. He was only six. Could a six-year-old truly understand the difference between right and wrong, between love and personal gain? Of course, he could. When Alex was six, his father brought him to my family’s company headquarters. He had told me, even then, that he was going to marry me when he grew up. Like father, like son. A perfect match. I stood up, not looking at Leo again. “Fine,” I said. “You can stay here. Alone. And no bedtime story tonight.” I went to my room and locked the door. After a long moment of thought, I called my best friend. “Chloe, cancel the flight. And the car.” “What? What happened?” Before I could answer, a heart-wrenching wail came from outside my door. “Mommy! Mommy, I’m sorry!” “Please don’t leave me here alone! I’m scared!” “Please, Mommy, please!” I opened the door. He threw himself at my legs, clinging to me. His eyes were swollen like walnuts. “Mommy, I’ll be good from now on, I promise. I’ll go with you.” “I’m scared of the dark. I’m scared of being alone.” “Can you… can you tell me a story?” 4. The flight overseas was in four hours. Inside the blacked-out private car, Leo was asleep on my lap, still hiccupping softly in the aftermath of his tears. I’d heard once that after childbirth, hormones hijack a mother’s senses, creating something called “maternal love.” I never believed it. I loved this tiny person willingly, with my whole heart. But tonight, I asked myself a different question. He had just spent the evening telling me how much he hated me. Why did I still give in? There was no answer. I watched the streetlights flash by through the tinted windows. The roads were empty. Alex probably never imagined I would try to run, not tonight. He had always underestimated my hatred for him. There was a time I truly believed he loved me. It started as an arranged marriage, but we had grown up together. Falling in love felt natural. He was a business prodigy, a kingmaker who held the fates of countless companies in his hands. But he was most famous for being “devoted” to me. “Give that project to Anya’s firm.” “Sorry, my girlfriend doesn’t want to partner on this.” “What can I do? If she gets mad, I’ll have to blow up a few buildings to make fireworks for her.” But after my parents died, he changed completely. The women in his bed became a revolving door. One night, I overheard him on the phone. “They died at the perfect time. I was so sick of her. If it wasn’t for her family’s money, who would bother playing house with her?” My family’s destruction. In his words, it was “the perfect time.” The memory still made my breath catch in my throat. But as long as I could get out of this city, it would all finally be over. I never saw it coming. Right before we boarded, my son tore his hand away and screamed at the top of his lungs. “She’s not my mother! She’s a kidnapper, she’s trying to take me away!” I froze. The screen of his smartwatch was lit up. He yelled into it. “Mama Isabella, are you here yet? Come and save me!” A commotion erupted at the terminal entrance. The roar of multiple car engines cut through the night. Leo flashed me a triumphant, toothy grin. “You wouldn’t tell me a story. But Mama Isabella will!” 5. Alex was already waiting nearby. He stood there in a perfectly tailored black suit, Isabella clinging to his arm. The second they approached, Leo ran straight into her embrace. “Mama Isabella! Her passport, the birth certificate, it’s all in her bag!” The world started to spin. I could barely stand. How could this be happening? Leo… I watched the doctors clean him off and place him in my arms. He was my child. There was a time when Alex and I would stand together, and people would ask when we were setting a wedding date. “Such a perfect couple,” they’d say. “Imagine how beautiful your children will be.” He would kiss my cheek softly and laugh when I blushed. After I left, Isabella took my place. Everyone said she was just my replacement, that she looked a little like me. But I knew the truth. Alex didn’t love me. This wasn’t what love looked like. I had long ago given up on the dream of a happy family with him. But why? Why was my own son standing with them? A bitter, corrosive acid churned in my stomach, and I nearly threw up. I leaned against my suitcase to keep from falling. Alex’s brow furrowed, but his voice was as cold as ever. “The bag. Don’t make me take it from you.” I let out a hollow laugh, unclipped the strap from my shoulder, and tossed it to him. He looked surprised by my compliance. One of his men unzipped it. It was all there. Birth certificate, passports, IDs… everything. Leo cheered. “Daddy, does this mean I can live in the big mansion forever?” Alex grunted in agreement, a rare warmth in his eyes as he looked at our son. The sight was both strange and sickening. “And can Mama Isabella tell me stories?” “Of course.” Isabella’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second. Leo ran back to me and pushed me hard. “You’re not my mommy anymore! I have a new mommy now!” I think the pain had finally numbed me. I couldn’t feel anything. Something inside of me simply… broke. A new mommy? I smiled to myself, a cold, dark thing. I was almost curious to see how long Isabella could play the part of doting stepmother. 6. I went back to the apartment to pack Leo’s things. He didn’t want this, he didn’t want that. He said his new mommy would buy him better things. So I threw it all in the trash. Including the photo albums. A professional portrait for every year of his life, from birth to age six. Leo watched me, then tilted his head. “Mommy, don’t you want those?” Want them? Why on earth would I want them? He was so used to my one-sided love, he couldn’t even comprehend it ending. I smiled at him. “I’m not your mom, remember? They’d just take up space.” His little brain seemed to short-circuit. He stared at me blankly for a moment. Then he stomped his foot and pouted. “You’re right! You’re not my mommy!” After I’d packed his one small bag, I walked him down to Alex’s car. He was practically vibrating with excitement. I didn’t look at him one last time. He didn’t look at me. From now on, he was Leo McCloud. I called Chloe. “Hey, if I needed a death certificate, I bet you could make that happen, right?” “Holy shit! Are you serious?” “I’m done, Chloe. I just want a new life.” “Say no more. When do you want to die? Give me a week to make it look good.” I thought for a moment. A week was perfect. “Next Wednesday, then.” It was perfect. It was Leo’s birthday. I wanted him to remember, for the rest of his life, that his birthday was the anniversary of his mother’s death.

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For my eighteenth birthday, my brother finally decided to throw me a party. When it was time for pictures, he shoved my face into the cake, completely ignoring the plastic support rods inside. My adopted sister, Luna, flashed her sweetest smile for the camera while the world through my left eye blurred into darkness. Later, while I was getting stitched up at the hospital, Luna posted two photos to her Instagram. One was her early acceptance letter to Northwood University. The other was a selfie of her and my brother, Ethan, at Disneyland. The caption read: 【My dream school and my favorite person, all mine on this special day. PS: My brother’s surprise was HILARIOUS!!!】 So that was it. My “birthday party” was just a surprise for Luna. This time, I didn’t throw a tantrum. I didn’t scream or cry. I simply liked the post and left a comment: 【From now on, every day will be special. Because he’s all yours, forever.】 Then I turned and accepted my own early admission offer from MIT. 1 “Zoe! What the hell was that comment? Luna’s coughing up blood because of you! Do you have any idea she just got her acceptance letter from Northwood today? You’ve ruined the best moment of her life! Get your ass back here and apologize, or don’t ever call me your brother again!” He hung up before I could say a word. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Luna getting into Northwood was the best moment of her life, but my eighteenth birthday meant nothing? Why… why did he trade my sight for her smile? I pressed a hand over my bandaged left eye, biting my lip to hold back the tears. The doctor said crying would only make the recovery worse. But the injustice of it all was a suffocating weight. Luna’s blood was fake. Mine was real. After Ethan had shoved my head into the cake, I could feel the warm stickiness of blood mixing with the frosting. But he just smiled, satisfied with the picture-perfect shot of Luna’s delighted face. He’d given me a careless glance and said, “Luna wants to go to Disneyland. Wash your face and order yourself some takeout.” Luna had giggled. “Sorry, sis, but that was just too funny!” I couldn’t fathom how someone could find joy in another’s pain. All I knew was that when the doctor told me I might never see out of my left eye again, my heart plummeted into an icy abyss. “An injury this severe,” the doctor asked gently, “where’s your family?” I froze. And I realized, in that sterile white room, that I didn’t have one anymore. My parents were firefighters. They died in the line of duty, saving Luna from a house fire. With their last breaths, they pushed her into my brother’s arms. From that day on, Ethan treated Luna like a sacred medal of honor, a living testament to our parents’ heroism. The fire had damaged her respiratory system, leaving her with a chronic condition. Once, during an argument, she happened to cough up blood, and from then on, I was forbidden from ever “bullying” my little sister. It was like she’d unlocked a new superpower. Any time I did something she didn’t like, she’d produce a dramatic mouthful of blood. I tried to tell Ethan she was using fake blood capsules. I even managed to steal one and show it to him. My reward was three days locked in the attic. He hated liars, he said. That day, the girl who had once craved her brother’s affection more than anything in the world looked at the doctor and shook her head. “I don’t have a family.” 2 I didn’t go home to apologize to Luna. Instead, I opened a bookmarked webpage on my phone and clicked ‘confirm’ on a notification I’d been hesitating over for weeks. It was the official acceptance of my early admission offer from MIT. For years, I had lived in fear of outshining Luna. A few years back, I’d accidentally scored a few points higher than her on a test. She came home and fell gravely ill, her bedsheets stained with blood. I spent three days locked in the attic, forced to write a ten-thousand-word apology letter. Only when I sobbed that I would never dare to steal her spotlight again did Ethan finally open the door. He sighed, his voice laced with disappointment. “She’s your sister, Zoe. Mom and Dad died to save her. You should let her have her moment.” Tears streamed down my face as I nodded. But I had. I had let her. If Luna scored a 90, I made damn sure I never got more than an 85. And still, Ethan’s world revolved entirely around her. Sometimes I wondered who his real sister was. But I never dared to ask. I was too afraid of the suffocating darkness of the attic, of the endless, soul-crushing apology letters. Now, it didn’t matter anymore. I was done with him. With my early admission secured, my high school classes were just a formality. The acceptance also came with a hefty scholarship. I collected the money, got permission from my teachers for an extended leave of absence, and bought a train ticket to Colorado. I had to escape that suffocating house. I had to see the wide-open sky. If I had no home, then the whole world would be my home. 3 I was somewhere deep in the Rocky Mountains when Ethan’s call came through. “What’s this about an extended leave? It was your fault to begin with, so why is it so hard for you to apologize to your sister? Zoe, who taught you to be so stubborn? I say two words to you and you run away from home? Let’s be real, do you even know where you stand? Did you get early admission like Luna? No. You’re not half the student she is, so what gives you the right to run off and give me attitude! You have three days. If you’re not back, then don’t ever bother coming back!” As always, he hung up before I could get a word in. A moment later, a text alert popped up on my screen. My bank account had been frozen. A bitter smile twisted my lips. He didn’t call to see if I was safe after all this time, he just cut off my money… Thank god the scholarship money was in a different account. I didn’t need his pathetic few hundred dollars. 4 Three days later, I didn’t go back. But Ethan didn’t call, or even text. I didn’t care. I headed north, making my way up to Chicago. For two solid weeks, I had zero contact with my family. I’d almost forgotten they existed until a call from Luna shattered the peace. “Oh, sister… where are you? We’re back from our trip, and Maria said you haven’t been home at all. Sister, it was my fault, please come back…” Her voice was frail and pitiful, as if she were genuinely worried about me. But if she really cared, how could she have laughed so gleefully while I was bleeding? Ethan’s voice cut in from the background. “Alright, Zoe, Luna has forgiven you. You can stop this little tantrum now.” A smirk played on my lips. “What did I do that requires her forgiveness?” There was a stunned silence on the other end. Ethan sighed heavily. “Look, I know you’re upset about the cake. But Luna getting into Northwood is a huge deal for her, one of the most important days of her life. You’re her older sister. Don’t be so petty. Let’s just move past this. I’ve unfrozen your card. Come home.” Right on cue, a notification popped up on my phone. He’d transferred me a thousand dollars. It wasn’t even enough for a train ticket home. I truly didn’t understand him. He’d drop tens of thousands on Luna without blinking, but with me, he was a penny-pincher. It wasn’t like our family couldn’t afford to treat us equally. He was just terrified I’d steal her thunder. “No, thank you, Ethan,” I said, my voice flat. “I won’t be needing your money anymore.” “You—!” “Oh, and I’m already on my way back. I’ll be there tonight. Don’t worry about me, I’m just staying one night and then I’m gone.” The line was quiet for a moment before Ethan sighed again, his tone softening. “Zoe, it was my fault. I’m sorry. Please don’t take it out on Luna. I’ll pick you up at the station tonight. We can have a proper family dinner, my treat. A real birthday celebration for you, okay?” Before I could refuse, he pressed on. “I’m heading to the station now. I’ll wait for you at the exit.” And he hung up. I sighed, canceling the shuttle bus ticket I’d just booked. 5 The train pulled in at 5:30 PM. I scanned the crowd at the exit, but Ethan was nowhere in sight. A text came through: 【Something came up. I’ll be a little late.】 I found a bench and sat down. I waited until the sky was pitch black, but he never showed. My calls went straight to voicemail. The last bus home had left two hours ago. With no other choice, I started walking toward a nearby hotel. The streetlights cast long, eerie shadows on the dark pavement. I heard footsteps behind me, quickening their pace. I glanced over my shoulder, but saw nothing. I walked faster. The footsteps behind me matched my pace. I spun around, and a figure darted into the darkness just beyond the reach of the streetlight. My heart hammered against my ribs. I picked up my speed, fumbling for my phone and dialing Ethan’s number again. Still no answer. I held the silent phone to my ear and raised my voice, feigning a conversation. “Hey, Ethan! I’m almost there, can you come down and meet me?” The footsteps behind me suddenly broke into a run. I whipped my head around to see a dark shape sprinting toward me. I bolted. But the gap between us closed with terrifying speed. In the reflection of a storefront window, I could see a hand reaching for me, inches from grabbing my jacket. I saw a person walking in the distance and screamed with every ounce of air in my lungs. “Honey! Help me!” The footsteps behind me faltered. The man in the distance hesitated for a second, then strode quickly toward me. I didn’t think twice; I ran straight into his arms. “Honey! Thank God you’re here!” The figure behind us walked past, pretending to be a casual pedestrian, glancing around aimlessly. When our eyes met for a fleeting second, I saw a flash of raw, bitter hatred in his cold, unsettling eyes. A hand rested gently on my waist, and a calm, steady voice murmured in my ear, “It’s okay. You’re safe. Let’s go.” He pulled me closer, steering me in the opposite direction of the man. My pulse was a frantic drum against my temples. I was just about to let out a sigh of relief when a chill ran down my spine. I looked up at the handsome, composed face of the man holding me, and my stomach clenched. In the dead of night, what were the chances he just happened to be right here? 6 I shoved him away, my phone gripped tightly in my hand. He looked surprised for a moment as my thumb hovered over the emergency call button. “You don’t trust me?” He chuckled softly, a sound that made my hand tremble, and my phone clattered to the pavement. I bent down to grab it, but his hand was already there, covering mine. He picked it up, looked me in the eye, and calmly dialed 911. “Hello? West 51st Street. There’s a man harassing a young woman here.” After he hung up, he gently tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, his voice a low murmur. “What happened to ‘honey’?” I was too stunned to speak. He smiled, a slow, easy grin. “The name’s Leo.” 7 Leo and I spent the rest of the night at the police station. By the time I got home the next day, the police had already arrested my attacker. They found a butcher knife and a set of dismemberment tools in his possession. I had been terrifyingly close to becoming a statistic. My hands were still trembling as I pushed open the front door. The familiar aroma of home-cooked porridge filled the air. It wasn’t the scent of our housekeeper’s cooking, which meant… Sure enough, there was Ethan in the kitchen, wearing a cartoon apron, setting a bowl of hot porridge in front of Luna. They were laughing and talking, having seemingly forgotten they’d ever promised to pick someone up. He noticed me and frowned. “Where have you been? You couldn’t find your own way back just because I didn’t pick you up? And what’s with the bandage? Take that ridiculous thing off!” I ignored him, walked to the fridge, grabbed a bottle of water, and chugged it down, trying to wash away the exhaustion. As I walked past him toward the stairs, I didn’t even give him a second glance. “Zoe.” His hand clamped down on my shoulder. I turned. He was still frowning, his expression awkward, as if the words were being dragged from him against his will. “Look… Luna was so worried about you yesterday, she coughed up blood right before we were supposed to leave. I had to take care of her.” I nodded, my voice devoid of emotion. “Okay.” His eyes widened slightly. In the past, I was always the one to back down first. From writing apology letters as a child to begging for his forgiveness as a teen. Any time he offered the slightest olive branch, I would be overjoyed, rushing to forgive him for everything. He was used to a single conciliatory glance from him sending me into a flood of grateful tears. My simple, flat “okay” threw him completely off balance. It even seemed to make him… angry. But before he could scowl any deeper, I pinched the bridge of my nose, feigning impatience. “If that’s all, I’m going to bed. It’s been a long couple of days.” He just stared, speechless. I walked around him, went upstairs, and opened my bedroom door. The sight that greeted me was one of utter devastation. 8 My practice exams were shredded into confetti, marked with angry red X’s and scattered across the floor. My notes from three years of high school were ripped to pieces, drenched in red ink. Carved into my now-empty desk, over and over again, were the words SLUT and DIE. I picked up a fragment of a page. The childish, looping handwriting of the insults was unmistakably Luna’s. “Zoe…” Ethan said from behind me, his voice filled with shock as he took in the wreckage. I turned to look at him, my expression cold as ice. Downstairs, Luna was just finishing her last spoonful of porridge. She placed a fake blood capsule in her mouth, bit down, and then crumpled to the floor with a pained frown. “Ethan… I… it hurts so much…” My gaze remained fixed on Luna, and Ethan’s brows immediately furrowed in my direction. “Stop making a scene the second you’re back!” he snapped at me. He rushed down the stairs and scooped Luna into his arms, his voice softening to a gentle murmur. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m taking you to the hospital right now. Don’t be scared.” Then he looked up at me, standing at the top of the stairs, and shot me a look of pure venom. It was always the same. Even though no one else in the house would ever do something like this, the moment Luna coughed up blood, nothing else mattered. The old me would have probably cried and screamed, desperately trying to explain. But now, I just turned back to my ruined room, quietly cleaned up the mess, and collapsed onto my bed, falling into a deep, exhausted sleep. I didn’t let either of them affect me in the slightest. 9 The next day, Luna shared a news article on her social media. It was about a high school senior who had lost all her study notes right before final exams. Her comment: 【Losing something so important… I bet her exam scores are going to be a disaster, right?】 I glanced at the bag of shredded paper in my trash can and let out a cynical laugh. Before I could even type out a reply, my bedroom door was kicked open. Ethan stood there, his face contorted with rage. “When did you learn to frame people? Luna told me she never set foot in your room, and Maria wouldn’t dare touch your things. Did you really think I wouldn’t see through this pathetic attempt to set up your own sister? If it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t have gotten so worked up trying to explain herself that she coughed up blood again!” Over his shoulder, I could see Luna, her eyes red-rimmed and brimming with tears, the perfect picture of wounded innocence. I scoffed. “I framed her? I just got back last night. How could I have framed her? And look at the carving on that desk. It’s hideous. I have much better handwriting than that.” “Sister…” Luna’s voice trembled as tears spilled down her cheeks. “I know you were hurt on your birthday, but you can’t just hire someone to do this and then throw such horrible accusations at me!” Her words fueled Ethan’s fury. He grabbed my arm, his eyes filled with a level of disappointment and disgust I had never seen before. “And to think I actually felt sorry for you, being out there all alone. I wanted to welcome you home, to make things right. But you just had to push it, didn’t you? You even stooped low enough to go after Luna! People like you should just die out there and never come back!” He shoved me hard. “Get out! And don’t ever let me see you again!” I stumbled backward, barely catching the banister to keep from tumbling down the stairs. I steadied myself and looked back at him one last time. “You almost got your wish.” If it hadn’t been for Leo. Ethan froze. I didn’t say another word. I turned and walked down the stairs. Behind me, I heard Luna’s syrupy voice. “Ethan, don’t you think that was a little harsh?” And his, cold and dismissive. “Don’t worry. She’ll come crawling back in a few days. And when she does, don’t you dare go soft on her. It’s time someone knocked that attitude out of her. The real world isn’t going to baby her like I do.” I looked down as Maria, our housekeeper, pushed my suitcase toward the door. She had hastily packed my things. Her voice was full of apology. “I’m so sorry, Miss Zoe. Mr. Ethan told me to clear out all of your belongings.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. Baby me? When had he ever done that?

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I transmigrated into a cliché, high-society romance novel. The heroine’s family had just gone bankrupt, and she was being publicly humiliated by the villain. With a wicked smirk, the villain drawled, “Kiss me. One million dollars.” I rushed forward, threw my arms around his neck, and smeared his face with my lipstick. Then, playing the part of a sweet, innocent girl, I cooed, “Oh, darling, I hope I don’t kiss you into bankruptcy.” 1 On the 7,001st day of being so broke I considered reporting my own poverty to the police, I was suddenly transported into a book. It was a high-society Mary Sue novel, and I had become the young heiress whose family had just lost everything. But whether the family was rich or broke didn’t really matter. This was a Mary Sue novel, after all. The default setting was that every man alive was hopelessly in love with me. Having read the entire book, I could best describe it as: The Heroine and Her Army of Simps. The man in front of me, however, was the one exception. The only man in the entire book who wasn’t a total simp. He was also the main villain—Tim Thorne. Tim leaned back in his chair, the picture of lazy arrogance, a cigarette dangling from his fingers. His eyes swept over me for a moment before he spoke, his voice dripping with scorn. “Well, well. Look what the cat dragged in. Our dear Miss Monroe.” The others in the private room took their cue, chiming in with glee. “The Monroe Corporation collapsed, didn’t it? I bet the debt collectors have worn a path to your door.” “Life without money must be tough.” “Hey, we were classmates once, Mia. If you beg me, maybe I’ll spare you a few bucks.” Tim let out a short, sharp laugh, flicking ash from his cigarette with careless grace. “What do you say? Feel like begging?” The laughter in the room grew louder. “Alright, how about this,” Tim said, as if making a grand concession. “Begging is probably too hard for you. How about kissing?” His gaze swept across the room. “Kiss anyone in here. Including me.” “One kiss,” he said, a cruel smile playing on his lips, “is worth a million dollars.” The room erupted in cheers. I could see it in their eyes—the glee, the tension, the eager anticipation. And in Tim’s eyes, pure, cold indifference. In the original novel, the heroine, unable to bear the humiliation, stormed out in a tearful rage. But I wasn’t the original heroine. I was broke. Looking back on the 7,001 days of my previous life, had there ever been an easier way to make money? Absolutely not. With all eyes on me, I walked straight toward Tim. I didn’t just stop in front of him; I sat down right on his lap and wrapped my arms around his neck. Jaws around the room practically hit the floor. I looked into Tim’s eyes and whispered, “Are you serious about this?” He raised an eyebrow. “Of course.” Well, then. He couldn’t blame me for what came next. I cupped his face, held his head, and, like I was using a rubber stamp, eagerly began plastering his face with kisses. With each kiss, I chanted silently in my head: A million. Another million. And another million. The room grew quieter and quieter, until the only sound was the wet smack of my lips against his skin. …It was actually pretty embarrassing. A wave of belated awkwardness washed over me, but I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip away. I summoned my courage, planted a few more for good measure, and then finally let him go. Tim was completely dumbfounded. In fact, everyone in the room was dumbfounded. You could have heard a pin drop. I slid off his lap, calmly smoothed down my dress, and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. Tim stared at me, sputtering. “You—you—you—” Afraid he was about to back out of the deal, I put on my most innocent, doe-eyed expression. “Oh, darling,” I cooed, “I’m not going to kiss you into bankruptcy, am I?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Tim snapped back to his usual arrogant self in a second. “You could glue your lips to my face for the rest of your life, and I could still afford it!” “…” I gave him a token round of applause. “Great. Pay up, then.” Tim looked away, his perfectly sculpted fingers yanking at the collar of his shirt. He pulled out his phone and made a call to his assistant, his voice a mask of nonchalance. “Bring me the checkbook.” He looked utterly ridiculous, trying to act cool with bright red lipstick smeared all over his face. I had to bite my cheek to keep from laughing out loud. While we waited for the check, Tim suddenly asked, “How many times did you kiss me? Do you remember?” I glanced at him. He quickly looked away. “No reason. Just, you know, for the final amount.” I shook my head. He turned to the others. They all shook their heads too. A look of exasperated resignation crossed his face. “Fine. We’ll have to check the security footage.” In the end, Tim watched the security footage five times. Only after this meticulous verification did he finally sign and hand me the check. “…” Unbelievable. He was a cheapskate, too. 2 I walked out of that room clutching a check for thirty-five million dollars, my mind reeling. Money had never come this easily. I was half-convinced I was dreaming. Just as I was about to pinch myself, a voice echoed in my head: [Tim Thorne Affection: 5%.] I froze. “What was that?” The voice, which I now recognized as a System, chirped excitedly: [Once Tim Thorne’s affection for you reaches 100%, you can return to your original world!] “No! I don’t want to go back!” I protested. I was dirt poor in my old world. Here, I just made thirty-five million dollars in five minutes. It was a no-brainer. Besides, I was kind of looking forward to the romance part of this novel. A whole cast of handsome men falling all over me? That sounded way better than any power fantasy. The System hesitated. [Well, um…] An idea struck me. “I just won’t try to win him over. If his affection stays at 5% forever, then I can’t ever go back, right?” The System stammered again. [Well, I, uh…] I mentally high-fived myself for my genius. [Ding! Rules have been updated!] The System’s voice was suddenly cheerful. [When Tim Thorne’s affection reaches 100%, you will be able to stay in this world forever!] I was silent for a full five seconds before I found my voice. “Are you kidding me?” The System replied mischievously, [The rules are the rules! The mission timer is one month. Good luck!~] “…” Sensing my despair, the System added: [Thirty-five million dollars, though.] That snapped me out of it. There was nothing more terrifying than being poor. I had to conquer Tim Thorne within a month. But as I thought about the original plot, my head started to ache. Tim was an arrogant, self-obsessed narcissist. How the hell was I supposed to make him fall in love with me in thirty days? “Wait, how did his affection go up by 5% just now?” [He was watching the security footage.] “…” I pleaded carefully, “Is there any way we can make him watch it for, say, three days straight?” [That would depend on his personal willingness.] Apparently, Tim’s personal willingness was quite strong. By the time I went to the bank the next day to cash the check, his affection level had already climbed to 13%. According to the System, he’d spent the entire night watching the footage. I remembered the look of disdain on his face in the club and couldn’t help but scoff. Heh. Men. The check cleared, and my bank account swelled by thirty-five million. I was just wondering where to go on a massive shopping spree when my phone rang. It was Tim. His tone was as arrogant and condescending as ever. “I hear our dear Miss Monroe is a little short on cash?” “Get to the point,” I said, my patience already thin. He was silent for a beat. “Pretend to be my girlfriend for a month. Name your price.” I was shocked. I checked with the System. “I don’t remember this happening in the book.” [Correct. The original plot is now completely off the rails. You are free to improvise.] “…” Was this not a golden opportunity falling right into my lap? I was just worrying about how to get close to him. Tim, impatient with my silence, snapped, “What? Not interested?” “I am,” I purred, switching to a soft, gentle tone. “I’m just curious why, that’s all.” “You don’t need to know why,” he said, his voice cold. “All you need to know is that for the next month, you’re my girlfriend.” I played along. “Okay, darling~” He hung up instantly. A moment later, the System’s cool, metallic voice chimed in: [Tim Thorne Affection increased by 2%. Current Affection: 15%.] I scoffed again. Heh. Men. 3 After hanging up, Tim sent me an address. [Come here.] I glanced at it, put my phone away, and hailed a cab to the city’s largest shopping mall. The System was surprised. [You’re not going?] “No rush.” [A reminder: if you fail to complete the mission within one month, you may be expelled from this world.] “I think a guy whose affection goes up by 13% just from watching a security video all night isn’t going to be that hard to win over.” The System went silent. “Besides,” I added, “with a guy like Tim, you can’t be too eager.” The book’s primary description of Tim was “narcissist.” His narcissism bordered on full-blown arrogance. He believed no woman on earth was worthy of him, which was why he kept his distance from them. Even when faced with the novel’s stunningly beautiful original heroine, he remained unmoved. That was how he ended up as the main villain. But after I showed up and aggressively kissed him, he seemed to be having second thoughts. What kind of narcissist gets a 13% affection boost from watching a video of himself all night? Surely he wasn’t falling for his own on-screen persona. My guess was that Tim Thorne liked a woman who took charge. In other words, he might have a bit of a masochistic streak. For the sake of my mission, I decided to test this theory. After a three-hour shopping blitz, I finally remembered the man I’d left hanging. I arranged for the mall to deliver my purchases to the Monroe mansion and then caught another cab to the address Tim had sent. By the time I arrived, the party was already in full swing. I jogged up to Tim, slightly out of breath. “Sorry I’m late.” He shot me a look of disdain. “What took you so long?” “I was picking out a present for you.” I pushed a tie clip and a watch I’d bought into his hands. “It took a while to choose. I hope you like it.” Tim glanced at me, then looked around at his friends. “See? Now do you believe me?” “The ‘goddess’ you all talk about is head over heels for me. Last night she even…” He clicked his tongue, as if annoyed. “But since she clearly adores me, I’ll let it slide.” “She confessed her love to me last night, and I accepted.” Tim took my hand, which was hanging by my side. “Mia is my girlfriend now.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. Clearly, Tim was savoring this moment. Now I understood why he needed me to pretend to be his girlfriend. He wanted to show off. To use me as a trophy. He was the same old narcissist, alright. To test my theory, I decided to play along with his childish game. I lowered my head, feigning shyness, and then peeked up at him from under my lashes. As if overcome with affection, I placed my hands on his shoulders, stood on my tiptoes, and leaned in to kiss him. A light, quick peck on the lips. Tim froze. Then, his cheeks and ears turned a shade of crimson so deep it was visible to the naked eye. He muttered dismissively, “What are you doing? We’re in public,” but I clearly heard the System’s notification: [Tim Thorne Affection increased by 5%. Current Affection: 20%.] I couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. This guy definitely liked it rough. 4 For the sake of my mission, I played the part of the perfect, doting girlfriend in front of Tim’s friends, stroking his ego at every turn. He seemed to enjoy it on the surface, but his affection level didn’t budge. Just as I was starting to wonder if brute force was the only way to make progress, Tim pulled me into a secluded corner of the villa. He leaned against the wall, legs casually crossed, arms folded as he studied me. “You’re actually into me, aren’t you?” “…” I figured he didn’t need my real answer, so I went with my gut. “No.” “Stop pretending,” he scoffed, his expression full of contempt. “It’s obvious you’re crazy about me.” I silently cursed him in my head. Narcissist. Tim continued, his voice dripping with arrogance, “I’d advise you not to get too attached. Because… well, you know. I hate you.” “Why?” “You don’t need to know,” he said, ever the tsundere king. “You just need to know that I hate you.” “…” What a psycho. I grumbled to the System, “Why does he hate me?” The System provided the answer: [At the freshman welcome dance, he asked you for the first dance, and you turned him down.] “That’s it?” I was floored by how petty he was. After a few seconds of frustration, another thought struck me. “Wait, I don’t remember that part being in the book!” The book only mentioned that Tim disliked the heroine but never explained why. [Correct. Now that he’s been promoted to the male lead, his character has been more fleshed out.] I muttered “psycho” again, this time aimed at the System. [I can hear you, you know~] I gave a tight, humorless smile. “I was saying it for you. What’s the point of cursing you if you can’t hear it?” […] The other psycho, Tim, was still on his high horse. “I hope you understand that our relationship is just an act. Outside of necessary public appearances, please maintain your distance.” I let out a dry laugh. “Is this a ‘necessary public appearance’?” “No,” he said. I turned to leave. “In that case,” I called over my shoulder, “I’ll start keeping my distance right now.” For the rest of the evening, I didn’t say another word to him. To any onlooker, it would have seemed like we were having a fight. But I was just deliberately provoking him. With a guy like Tim, who had a touch of a submissive streak, you had to give him the cold shoulder sometimes. Let him stew in it, get all worked up, and watch those affection points climb. By the time I’d turned down the seventh guy who tried to chat me up, Tim’s affection level had finally crept up to 27%. As if he couldn’t take it anymore, he marched over to me. “Let’s go. I’m taking you home.” I followed him without a word. I thought that would be the end of the affection gains for the night, but the real drama was just beginning. As we stepped out of the villa, a sleek, black Rolls-Royce pulled up on the sloped driveway. I assumed it was his and started to walk toward it. But then, the back door opened, and a man stepped out. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, his features sharp and cool, exuding an aura of refined elegance. He walked toward us with a steady, mature confidence. I recognized him instantly. He was the original male lead. Liam. He stopped under the lights, his gaze locking onto me. “Mia, come here.” I hesitated, about to take a step, when Tim’s hand suddenly shot out and gripped mine, squeezing tight. His voice was tense, coming from above my head, laced with command. “Mia, don’t you dare go!”

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