Author: Momo Chan

I woke up seven years in the future. And apparently, I was married to Jeff Joab—the campus king who’d always despised me. Worse, he was completely obsessed with me. So, the moment I snapped back to my own time, I shot my shot and confessed my feelings to him. But the younger Jeff just stared coldly at the fresh hickey on my neck. “You have a boyfriend,” he said, his voice dripping with ice. “So stop messing with me.” I couldn’t find the words to explain. As I turned to leave, humiliated, he grabbed my wrist, his composure shattering. “Isn’t this what you want? For me to be your dirty little secret?” His voice was a broken whisper. “Just… coax me a little more. I’ll say yes.” 1 I’d eaten way too much for dinner. Sprawled out on my bed, I was scrolling through my phone when my eyelids grew heavy, and I drifted off. When I opened them again, I was staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. My mind went blank. But that wasn’t the scariest part. As I scrambled out of bed to survey my surroundings, my eyes landed on a massive wedding portrait hanging on the wall. The couple in the photo was me… and Jeff Joab. I was in a pristine white gown, beaming, my arm linked intimately with his. Jeff, devastatingly handsome in a black tuxedo, was looking down at me with an expression of pure, unadulterated tenderness. If I ignored the fact that we were sworn enemies, I might have actually cooed at how perfect we looked together. Right now, though, my only thought was that the mushrooms I’d had for dinner must have been hallucinogenic. I grabbed my phone to dial 911, but the date on the lock screen stopped me cold. It wasn’t just a different day. It was seven years in the future. While I was still reeling from the shock, the bedroom door swung open and Jeff walked in. He looked different. The boyish edge was gone, replaced by the quiet confidence of a man. He wore a crisp white dress shirt that accentuated his tall, lean frame. His whole aura was calmer, more grounded than I remembered from college. Dare I say it? He had a serious… husband vibe. He noticed me staring, and the cool lines of his face instantly softened. He loosened his tie as he crossed the room in a few long strides and wrapped his arms around me. Before I could even process what was happening, his arms were securely around my waist, and he was nuzzling into my neck, his voice a playful, husky murmur. “Hey, baby. Sorry I’m late. Miss me?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just continued in a soft, whimpering tone. “God, I missed you so much. I couldn’t even focus on my damn paperwork, just thinking about you.” Holy crap. Was this the same cold, arrogant campus king I knew? I blinked, pushing him away gently, the sudden intimacy too much to handle. His handsome face immediately crumpled. A shimmer of moisture glossed over his beautiful eyes as his brow furrowed in disbelief. “Sienna… you just pushed me away.” His voice cracked. “Don’t you love me anymore? Tell me! Is there another man?” Stunned by his wounded expression, I awkwardly reached for him again, trying to pull him back into a hug. But Jeff just leaned into my touch, rubbing his cheek against my palm like an affectionate cat, his expression impossibly endearing. My heart melted for a split second. Then I heard him press his advantage. “I knew it. My baby still loves me.” His voice dropped to a seductive whisper. “Wanna take a shower together?” His eyes were locked on mine as his fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, slowly undoing them one by one. I whipped my head away, my cheeks on fire. I mean, I could tell he had an incredible body, but I wasn’t that easily swayed by a pretty face. Not until I figured out what the hell was going on. I had to stay rational. Besides, this was my arch-rival. How could I possibly be in a relationship—a scandalous relationship—with him? But Jeff was like a siren, wrapping himself around me again. He placed a soft kiss on my forehead, his voice a low, magnetic rumble. “Didn’t you say you wanted to see me in the collar and cat ears?” He leaned in closer. “I already bought the props. You’re not going to bail on me now, are you, baby…?” What the hell? My mind went straight to the gutter. All I could see was a vision of a narrow waist and a toned chest, overlaid with an image of him in cat ears. I was trapped. Jeff continued his assault, murmuring things that made my heart race and my face burn. I fought an internal war for a whole second before finally surrendering. Honestly, what excuse could I possibly give? According to this timeline, we were already married. It wasn’t like I could say no, right? It definitely wasn’t because I was dying to see it. Definitely not. With that thought, I took control, turning the tables by gently biting his lower lip. His eyes darkened with desire, and in one fluid motion, he swept me into his arms and carried me into the bathroom. 2 The next morning, Jeff was already gone when I woke up. I yawned, dragging myself to the bathroom. Staring at my familiar face in the mirror, my mind drifted again. What was the real situation here? From the scattered bits of information on my phone, I pieced together that I was currently unemployed, while Jeff was the CEO of a company. It seemed we were in an arranged marriage, having tied the knot just a month ago. But if I was here, seven years in the future… what happened to my college-aged self? Did she just… vanish? My head swimming with questions, I finished breakfast and decided to go out and explore. But the moment I opened the front door of the villa, I wasn’t outside. I was standing back inside my old apartment, facing my own closed bedroom door. Huh? Did I just… travel back? Thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me, I opened the bedroom door again. And there it was—the luxurious villa from the future. After testing it seven or eight more times, a sharp, incredulous shout escaped my lips. “Holy crap!” It was confirmed. My plain, unassuming bedroom door was a gateway between two timelines. And apparently, time flowed at the same rate in both worlds. Most importantly, I was the only one who knew. Before I could analyze it further, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My best friend, Chloe, had spammed me with messages: “Sienna! Class is about to start, where are you?” “Don’t tell me you overslept! Wake up, this professor is a nightmare about attendance!” “Got you a seat. Get your ass over here!” A jolt of panic shot through me, my precarious grades flashing before my eyes. Forgetting everything else, I grabbed my bag and sprinted to campus. I snuck into the lecture hall and slid into the seat Chloe had saved, letting out a sigh of relief. Then I turned my head. And found myself sitting right next to the younger, college-aged Jeff Joab. Chloe, my dear, sweet friend, what have you done? Oblivious, Chloe leaned in and whispered conspiratorially. “See? Great spot, right? Super hidden.” She wiggled her eyebrows. “And look, you’ve got a certified hottie sitting right next to you!” I nodded, my soul slowly leaving my body. The lecture was painfully boring. My mind wandered, and I couldn’t stop myself from sneaking glances at Jeff. He was focused on his notes, his head bent low, revealing the elegant line of his nose and his long, dark lashes. An image from last night flashed in my mind—Jeff’s face, flushed and damp, his eyes hazy with pleasure. My cheeks instantly grew hot. Just as I was about to look away, he suddenly turned his head. Our eyes met. 3 His pen paused for a fraction of a second before he looked away, his expression completely blank, radiating a cold indifference that pushed everyone away. So cold. Nothing at all like the clingy, affectionate man from last night. I pouted, fidgeting with my pen. How could the same person be so different at two different stages of his life? Just then, my phone screen lit up. I tapped it open and saw a pinned contact—one I didn’t remember adding—spamming me with messages. [My Wifey, my baby, are you awake yet?] [I miss you I miss you I miss you.] [The new plant I bought looks so good. What do you think, baby?] [Image.jpg] In the photo, Jeff’s shirt was slightly unbuttoned, revealing his sharp collarbones and a few faint, pink marks dotting his skin. He claimed he was showing me the plant, but it was relegated to a tiny corner of the frame. The main event was Jeff himself. He had his head tilted slightly, his captivating eyes staring into the camera, his perfect profile glowing in the sunlight. I was mesmerized. Part of me was trying to figure out how the twenty-seven-year-old Jeff could be messaging me across time and space, while the other part was marveling at how shameless he was, sending me thirst traps first thing in the morning. I typed back: [Mind your image. The internet has rules, you know.] He replied instantly. [Was the plant not pretty enough? Let me take another one.] The new photo was even more scandalous. Jeff had lifted the hem of his shirt, his expression a perfect mask of innocence as he gazed at the camera. The plant was still a tiny green speck in the corner. His smooth, defined abs and the sharp lines of his waist, however, were on full display. Just as I was about to zoom in for a closer inspection, the psychology professor called my name. Staring at the four multiple-choice options on the projector screen, I scratched my head, completely lost. I was about to guess randomly when a cool, low voice beside me said, “It’s A.” I gave the answer, and it was correct. As I sat down, I couldn’t help but glance at Jeff. That was… weird. He actually helped me. But then I saw his gaze flicker down to my phone, where the picture of his future self’s abs was still on full display. I slammed the screen off. Jeff looked away. A strange feeling washed over me as it dawned on me. Right now, in this timeline, the twenty-year-old Jeff and I had nothing to do with each other. So why… Why did I feel so guilty, like I was cheating on him right under his nose? Why on earth did I feel like that? 4 The morning classes finally ended. Sweltering in the heat, I went back to my dorm, changed into a low-cut sundress, and took a much-needed nap. Later that afternoon, as I was passing a boba shop, I spotted Jeff’s tall, slender figure behind the counter. Oh, right. His persona on campus was the “poor but brilliant” scholar. He was probably working a part-time job. A mischievous idea sparked in my mind. I walked in and ordered a milk tea. Jeff acted like he didn’t even know me, his face a cold, emotionless mask as he took my order. But when I got my drink, it was packed to the brim with toppings. I found a table and sat down, chewing on my straw and getting lost in thought. My feud with Jeff started in our last year of high school. I was the rebellious new transfer student. My homeroom teacher, knowing my grades were terrible, assigned Jeff—the top student in our year—to be my desk mate. He was tasked with keeping me in line. And he took that job very seriously. If I didn’t do my homework, he’d just stare at me silently for the entire study hall until I cracked under the pressure. When I skipped class to go to the internet cafe, he’d take the day off just to hunt me down, humiliating me in front of all my slacker friends. When I started dating a guy from the class next door, Jeff had daily “talks” with him until the poor guy couldn’t take it anymore and broke up with me. He was stricter than my own father. And I couldn’t complain to anyone, because my parents and the teacher were thrilled. Jeff’s methods were exactly what they wanted. Of course, they worked. In that one year, I shot up from the bottom of the class rankings to the top ten and got into the same university as him. I thought I’d finally be free, but he chose the same school and the same major. We even ended up in the same class. Thank god we were adults now. He had no right to control me like he did in high school. …But then again, I was legally an adult in my senior year, too. Was his strictness back then really just about his sense of duty as the class president? A slow realization began to dawn on me. I pulled out my phone and sent a message to the future Jeff. [Hubby, you there? I have a question for you.] He replied almost instantly. [I’m here, baby. Ask away! I’ll tell you anything!] I hesitated before typing out the words. [When did you start liking me?] For the first time, he went silent. The “typing…” indicator flickered for what felt like an eternity. Finally, a single word appeared. High school. 5 My eyes went wide. Another message followed, this time a voice note. I pressed play, and Jeff’s voice, deep but tinged with shyness, filled my ear. [That first day of senior year, when you were introducing yourself on the podium. You glanced over at my corner of the room and smiled. It was so bright.] [My heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t until later that I realized… that’s what it felt like to fall for someone.] I chewed on a tapioca pearl, realizing I had zero memory of that moment. Yet, a strange sense of satisfaction bloomed in my chest. All this time, I thought we mutually disliked each other. But to hear from the man himself that he’d been secretly in love with me for years… A wicked idea began to form. I smirked and typed another question. [Hey hubby, if I confessed to your twenty-year-old self, do you think he’d say yes?] Jeff’s reply was instantaneous. [Of course he would, baby.] [You know that no matter what age I am, I could never say no to you.] Damn. He was making me blush. Twenty-seven-year-old Jeff was way too smooth; I felt like putty in his hands. I had to even the score. I needed to go and tease the younger version of him to feel better about myself. It wasn’t because I had a mischievous streak or anything. Definitely not. 6 I waited in the boba shop until Jeff’s shift was over. The moment he stepped outside, I intercepted him. “Jeff,” I said in a low voice, “come with me for a second. I need to talk to you.” I expected him to agree immediately. Instead, he glanced down at me, and the air around him dropped ten degrees. “I’m busy,” he said, his voice flat. Huh? I was floored. What happened to “secretly in love with me” and “could never say no”? Not ready to give up, I instinctively tugged on the hem of his shirt. “What I have to say is really important,” I coaxed. “Are you sure you don’t want to hear it?” He stopped walking. After clearing my throat, I stood on my tiptoes and whispered sweetly in his ear. “Jeff Joab, I like you.” I thought he would be so flustered he’d short-circuit. Instead, he took a sharp breath, his dark eyes boring into mine. “Sienna,” he ground out, his voice laced with anger, “are you this casual with everyone?” Following his gaze, I realized something was wrong. I looked down and saw it—a prominent, angry-red hickey on my neck. Crap. I forgot to reapply my concealer. Jeff’s lips thinned into a hard line. “You already have a boyfriend. So stop messing with me.” My mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. What was I supposed to say? Jeff, calm down, that was actually made by the future you. We just got a little too carried away last night, and now the present you has the wrong idea. Yeah, that would get me committed. Utterly defeated, I turned to walk away. But he grabbed my wrist, his expression completely shattered. “Isn’t this what you want? For me to be your dirty little secret?” His voice dropped to a broken whisper. “Just coax me a little more, and I’ll say yes.” Wha… what? My brain went blank. Was he… was he willing to be the other man? But I wasn’t actually cheating on anyone! “You’ve got it all wrong,” I stammered. “I don’t have a boyfriend right now.” Just then, my phone screen lit up with a series of notifications. [Baby, I got us a reservation at that steakhouse you love.] [Want to go out for dinner tonight?] Jeff saw them all. He also saw the contact name I had saved for the sender: My Super Clingy, Super Hot Husband. The light in his eyes instantly faded. Well, shit. Now there was no explaining my way out of this one.

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My marriage to Victor Hayes was a business arrangement. On our wedding night, as I offered to sleep in the guest room, a line of text materialized before my eyes. 【No! Don’t you dare sleep in the guest room! I have a severe allergy to fade-to-black scenes!】 【He’s putting on a brave face, but hearing you say that just shattered his world!】 【Just look at your husband! He’s been secretly in love with you for ten years!】 【And to think Victor wore those sexy shirt garters just to seduce his new wife… all for nothing! LOL!】 Shirt garters? Well, now I have to see. 1 It was ten o’clock at night. After playing the perfect hosts to our guests, Victor and I finally left the family estate. The leg that had been trapped in high heels all day throbbed with a dull ache. I couldn’t help but reach down and rub it. “What’s wrong? Are you uncomfortable?” Victor, who had been immersed in work on his tablet, noticed my awkward posture. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I wore heels. My legs are killing me.” The words had barely left my lips when a warm hand settled on my shoulder, gently guiding me to sit up straight. Victor leaned down, slipped off my heels, and lifted my legs onto his lap. Realizing what he was about to do, I instinctively tried to pull back. “I can do it myse—” “—Let me.” His grip on my calf was gentle but firm, a silent command not to move. It was a battle I lost in a single second. I stopped struggling. Victor’s massage was perfect—the pressure just right, the warmth of his hands seeping into my sore muscles. The discomfort and tightness in my legs began to melt away. He carefully rotated my ankle. “If you’re not used to heels, you don’t have to wear them.” “Victor, you don’t get it,” I countered. “A silk sheath dress needs heels to look right.” “Your comfort is more important.” “So, you’re saying I don’t look good?” I tilted my head, my eyes locking with his. His hands stilled for a moment before he averted his gaze. “You look beautiful,” he murmured. Pleased with his answer, I swung my legs playfully. The movement was a little too enthusiastic, and my calf brushed against something small and hard. “Ouch. Your keys are digging into my leg, Victor.” “…” “It’s not a key,” he said, clearing his throat. “Now, stop fidgeting.” Not a key? Then what was it? Before I could ponder it further, the car glided to a stop. The driver’s voice crackled through the intercom. “We’ve arrived, sir.” By the time I’d gathered my things, Victor was already out of the car. Seriously? He didn’t even wait for me! So much for being a gentleman! “Hey, wait up—” My complaint was cut short as he leaned back into the car, hooking my heels with two fingers. Then, he opened his arms to me. “Come on,” he said, his voice low. “I’ll carry you.” 2 I was cradled in Victor’s arms, my head resting against his chest. From this angle, I had a perfect view of the clean, strong line of his neck. The top button of his shirt was done up neatly, resting just below his Adam’s apple. Victor already had that cool, aloof look about him. Dressed in a crisp shirt and tailored suit, he was the epitome of restrained desire. Perfect reference material. As a dedicated artist, I couldn’t resist. My mind began tracing the lines, sketching him out in my head. “What are you daydreaming about?” “Huh?” I snapped out of my very R-rated fantasy. “Oh, nothing.” “Alright,” he said, not pressing the issue. “You must be tired. Get some rest soon.” Once we were inside, I slid out of his arms, feeling a little self-conscious. My suitcase, covered in a chaotic collage of stickers, stood by the sofa. It looked completely out of place in his minimalist penthouse apartment. A bit like us. To call our marriage a business arrangement was putting it nicely. The truth was, my family was nowhere near his league. But years ago, my father had done Victor a great service. Now, he was cashing in that favor, forcing Victor to marry me and, in doing so, bail out my family’s failing company. A month ago, Victor was just the slightly intimidating older guy I’d always kept at a respectful distance. Now, he wasn’t just my “big brother” figure, he was my savior. Definitely someone to be admired from afar, not messed with. So, when he moved to grab my luggage, I lunged for it. “I’ve got it! I’ll just take the guest room, it’s fine!” He paused, then gently took the handle from my grasp. “You’ll sleep in the master bedroom. It’s already been prepared.” His voice seemed to drop a little. “I’ll take the guest room.” With that, he wheeled my suitcase into the master bedroom, leaving me no room to argue. I trailed behind him, trying to think of something else to say, when the strange text floated across my vision again. 【Nooo! Victor, don’t sleep in the guest room! I hate fade-to-black!】 【They’re married! Just do it already! For me!】 【Keep dreaming. Their script is ‘polite strangers.’ There won’t be any spice here.】 【He looks so calm, but hearing her say ‘guest room’ just made his world collapse!】 What was that? Am I hallucinating? I stared blankly at the floating words, so distracted that I walked headfirst into the doorframe. The next thing I knew, Victor had pulled me over to sit on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?!” A warm hand rested on my head. Victor’s brow was furrowed with genuine concern; I’d clearly scared him. I shook my head, but the movement was too sharp, and a wave of dizziness made me gag. He shot to his feet. “I’m calling a doctor.” “Don’t!” I grabbed his arm to stop him. “I’m fine!” Tripping over my own feet is embarrassing enough without an audience. What would a doctor even do? Document my clumsiness for medical science? I held onto his hand, my gaze intense. “I’m really okay! I just… I need to sleep.” The sheer humiliation of it all made me desperate for some alone time. I waved my hands toward the door, issuing a clear dismissal. “You should go get some rest too, Victor!” As soon as I said it, the pop-up comments flared to life again. 【LMAO! My sweet, clumsy girl!】 【Victor, how can you resist pouncing on this adorable dummy?】 【You thirsty animals need to calm down. They aren’t the endgame couple!】 【The fact that Victor put on shirt garters to seduce her is sending me. What a waste!】 What do you mean, not the endgame couple? We literally just got married. My head was spinning. The knock to my head must have been worse than I thought. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the annoying text to disappear. A second later, they snapped open again. Wait a second. What did you just say? Shirt garters?! 3 My eyes darted down to Victor’s long legs. Beneath the impeccably tailored fabric of his suit trousers, I could just make out the faint, raised line of a strap. He seemed completely oblivious to my staring, leaning down to gently pat my head. “Alright, I won’t force you. If you start to feel worse, just call me from next door, okay?” As he bent over, the trousers pulled taut against his thigh, defining the powerful muscle beneath. The strap, once a subtle hint, was now in sharp relief. He really was wearing them. So those pop-up comments… they were real? By the time I processed this, Victor had already turned to leave. “Wait!” My hand shot out to stop him. I meant to grab the hem of his suit jacket. Instead, my brain short-circuited, and my fingers closed around that hidden strap, right through the fine wool of his trousers. Victor’s body went rigid. He turned back slowly, his eyes wide with disbelief. His stare sent another jolt through my brain, and I snatched my hand back. A sharp snap echoed in the silent room. Before I could hide my traitorous hand, he caught it, pulling me forward with a gentle tug. Suddenly, I was in his arms, his large hand pressing against the small of my back, holding me close. “June… what are you doing?” Victor’s voice, usually so smooth and resonant, was now laced with a raw, husky edge. It sent a shiver right down to my toes. “I… I just…” Before I could stammer out an excuse, his lips were on mine. It was a feather-light touch, a question. And before I knew it, my own arms were wrapping around his neck, answering it. June, June, June. Your nerve is truly something else. He paused for a heartbeat, then deepened the kiss, lifting me onto the bed so I was sitting on his lap. It wasn’t until I shifted that I was poked by something hard. I pushed him back slightly, breathless. “Your keys… they’re digging into me.” Victor let me go, his voice unrecognizably hoarse. “I told you. They’re not keys.” So it really was the garter clip. “Victor,” I swallowed hard. “I want to see.” “Can I?” 4 The room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. A storm of emotions flickered across Victor’s face. After what felt like an eternity, he finally managed to speak, his voice strained. “June…” “I just want to look! I swear I won’t take advantage of you!” I rushed to reassure him, afraid he’d say no. “I just… I want to see how they’re different from the ones online.” His brow furrowed. “You’ve seen them on a lot of other people?” “No, never in person! That’s why I can’t get the drawings right.” “Drawings?” “You frequently draw men’s… accessories?” Victor seemed to struggle with the word. “Like this?” Right. He only knew I was an artist. He probably had no idea what kind of art I made. “Mhm, I’m working on a new illustration series featuring shirt garters,” I explained. “I was hoping you could be my model. Would that be okay?” Looking at reference photos online just wasn’t cutting it. I remembered that Victor had played basketball since he was a kid; the muscles in his thighs had to be incredible. That superior physique, combined with his cool, stoic vibe, and the elegant, provocative touch of the garters… Just thinking about it made me drool. “So… you wanted to see the shirt garters?” “Yeah, that’s right!” For some reason, Victor looked visibly relieved. He rubbed his temples, muttering something almost too quiet to hear. “I thought…” Huh? Thought what? 【LMAO OMG, did Victor think she wanted to see his dick?!】 【Victor: I do not understand, but… yes, she can look. Yes.】 Seeing the comments and recalling his conflicted expression, a wave of mortification washed over me. I scrambled to explain. “Victor, I didn’t mean that! I really wasn’t trying to—” “—June, we’re married.” Victor cut me off gently, his gaze fixed on mine. I nodded. “I know.” He pressed his lips together, saying nothing more. Instead, he took my hand and guided it to the metal buckle at his waist. When he spoke again, his voice was as tempting as a siren’s call. “What I mean is, you can do anything you want to me.” “Go on. Unbuckle it.” 5 They were sleek, black shirt garters. One end was fastened high on Victor’s thigh. Maybe because he’d been wearing them all day, or perhaps because his skin was so pale, but the edges of his skin beneath the strap were tinged with a faint pink. The other end clipped to the hem of his shirt, pulling the fabric taut and perfectly accentuating his lean, narrow waist. It was strategically positioned, concealing things that were probably best left unseen. But I still saw. It was unavoidable. And the view was… substantial. June had a bit of nerve, but not that much. After about thirty seconds, I scrambled away, my face burning as I grabbed the bathrobe lying nearby. I must have completely lost my mind. Before I even realized what I was doing, I’d ignored Victor’s outstretched hand and clumsily wrapped the robe around his waist. I tried to back away, flustered, but an arm shot out and circled my back, pulling me into his embrace. “Done looking?” “Y-Yeah, I’m good.” God, when did I develop a stutter? “Is that really enough?” Victor asked, as if genuinely curious. “Don’t you need to sketch it?” I shook my head frantically. “Nope, I’ve got it memorized.” A soft chuckle rumbled from above me. “Good girl, June.” I looked up at the sound and fell right into the deep, dark pools of his eyes. The on-screen comments went ballistic. 【WHOA, where did this plot twist come from?! How did things escalate so fast?!】 【I don’t remember this scene in the original story! Did they change it? Is the author finally going rogue?!】 【DO IT! For the sake of your readers! I’m team Victor all the way!】 【YES, PLEASE! FULL STEAM AHEAD!】 【Can the people upstairs shut up? I can’t stand non-canon ships!】 【It’s not gonna happen. The main love interest is about to show up!】 It was like a prophecy. Just as my mind was clouded with lust and I was rising on my tiptoes to steal another kiss from Victor, the shrill ring of my phone shattered the intoxicating atmosphere.

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In the fourth year of our marriage, I realized I didn’t love my husband at all. His hand on my waist made my skin crawl. Our nightly goodnight kiss felt like torture. Even his clothes, fresh from the laundry, seemed to carry a foreign, unpleasant scent. But I was the one who had pursued Nick Shaw so relentlessly. This was the bed I’d made, and now I had to lie in it, even if it meant choking back tears. My unhappiness grew, and I wasted away, day by day. Until one afternoon, I saw a conversation on his phone: 【How could you run out on me at a time like that!】 【She’s too in love with me. What if she couldn’t live without me? I can’t be that cruel.】 【If I hadn’t stepped aside back then, would you have chosen me?】 【Yes.】 That day, my mood lifted for the first time in months. I devoured three whole bowls of egg fried rice. 1 The sofa felt crowded. When Nick sat down, his long legs, clad in tailored trousers, naturally pressed against mine. I quietly shifted two inches away, letting out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding. He didn’t seem to notice, surrounded as he was by a circle of fawning acquaintances. This reunion had been orchestrated by an old classmate who needed a favor, and Nick was, without question, the center of attention. He carried himself with an easy confidence, a calm that bordered on aloofness. His usual cool demeanor. “You’re a dark horse, man! A rising star in the business world in just a few years. Leaves the rest of us in the dust!” “Anna, you’re the one who really hit the jackpot! But you’d better keep a tight leash on him. Nick was getting love letters by the bundle back when he was a broke student. Now that he’s made it, the women out there must be throwing themselves at him!” “What’s to be afraid of! The way Anna chased Nick back then was legendary! Now she’s gone from a feisty girl to a gorgeous socialite. She can handle any stray butterflies that come fluttering around!” Amid the chorus of flattery, a woman in the corner let out a sharp scoff. It cut through the noise. “Some people just have all the luck, I guess. It’s amazing how a rich girl stealing someone’s man can be spun into a fairytale romance. I guess it’s true what they say—everyone celebrates the new love and forgets the one who was left crying.” The words hung in the air, and an awkward silence fell over the group. I turned to look at the speaker. I recognized her as one of the many girls who had sent Nick love letters back in the day. Her face was flushed crimson; she was clearly drunk. Nick said nothing, merely lifting his wine glass for a slow sip. I understood his silent command: Stay quiet. Don’t engage. Normally, I would have obeyed. But not this time. “The way you say that,” I said, tilting my head, “you’d almost make people think you and Nick were a couple and I broke you up.” The woman froze, her face turning an even deeper shade of red. “I never said that! Don’t twist my words. I was talking about someone else! Are you going to deny that you took advantage of the situation and snatched him from her?” All eyes were on me now, gleaming with the thrill of impending drama. Her words were nasty, and even if I didn’t want a fight, I had to set the record straight. I looked directly at her. “Sorry to disappoint you, but when Nick and I got together, he was one hundred percent single. And if by ‘someone else,’ you mean—” “That’s enough.” Nick’s voice was sharp, laced with annoyance. He set his glass down on the table with a soft thud, the red liquid sloshing inside. “Anna, it’s just a joke between classmates. Don’t be so dramatic. You’re making a scene.” At his words, the other woman shot me a look of triumphant disdain. I pressed my lips together. Dramatic? Someone insults me, and I’m not supposed to defend myself? But as I opened my mouth to argue, a familiar sensation washed over me. It happened all the time lately. A certain phrase from Nick, a specific gesture, sometimes just the sound of his voice would trigger this strange feeling inside me. It was like the seventh bite of a cake that’s suddenly too sweet, a balloon shriveled and wrinkled, the bitter aftertaste of tea left out overnight. All flavor was gone, leaving only a dull disinterest. Suddenly, the whole argument felt pointless. I closed my mouth. The reunion ended on a cheerful note, with everyone saying their goodbyes. As we turned to leave, Nick reached to put his arm around my waist. I subtly sidestepped, avoiding his touch. His lips thinned. He gave me a long, hard look. 2 Later that night, as we were getting ready for bed, Nick emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair still damp. He was an incredibly disciplined man. Despite his demanding work schedule, he never skipped a workout, maintaining a lean, muscular physique. He was tall, with handsome features that could rival any movie star. There was a time when I was completely captivated by his looks. But now, the moment the door opened, I silently turned off my phone and closed my eyes. I felt the mattress dip beside me, his hot breath ghosting across my ear. “Anna, are you asleep?” His voice was deep, heavy with desire. As his fingers began to explore, I opened my eyes and pressed his hand down. “I’m a little tired today.” He froze for a second, his voice tight with frustration. “You’re tired every day.” “Yes,” I said, pushing his hand away and pulling the covers tighter around me. “I’ve been getting tired easily lately. I’m sorry.” He was silent for a long time, unmoving. I let out a sigh of relief and prepared to drift off. But then, he spoke into the darkness. “You don’t have to be like this.” I was half-asleep. “Like what?” A low, cold laugh. “This act you’ve been putting on lately, in public and in private. It’s all because of Sylvia, isn’t it?” 3 I was stunned, unsure why he was suddenly bringing up Sylvia. It took me a moment to understand what he meant. Sylvia. Nick’s old flame. The “someone else” the woman at the reunion had been talking about. The first time I saw Nick, he and Sylvia were standing side-by-side on a campus path, each holding a stack of books, watching me argue with someone. My new car had knocked over a fruit vendor’s cart, and he was wailing for me to pay for damages and his medical bills. No one in the crowd believed me when I said he’d deliberately run into my car. They all accused me of being a rich, arrogant bully. Just as I was about to be swallowed by their accusations, a clear voice cut through the noise. “Since when is fault in a traffic accident determined by who’s rich and who’s poor?” I whipped my head around and saw him. Nick, in a white shirt, dappled in the light filtering through the trees. Tall, lean, and clean-cut. In that one glance, he found a place in my heart. Before I decided to pursue him, I made a special trip to find Sylvia, the campus beauty from the civil engineering department, and ask what their relationship was. They were always together, and everyone assumed they were a couple. Sylvia toyed with a lock of her long hair, thought for a moment, and smiled. “We’re just classmates from the same hometown.” When Nick heard her answer, he was silent for a few seconds before stating, expressionless, “It’s just like she said.” I grew up wealthy, pretty, and bright. My parents taught me to be brave in expressing my love. I had never met a boy like Nick before. Satisfied with their answers, I launched a full-blown, public campaign to win him over. Nick had fought his way out of a poor, rural town and possessed a fierce pride. He rejected me, saying he wouldn’t date anyone until he’d paid off his ten years of student loans. But back then, my world revolved around him. A rare smile, an occasional agreement to have dinner, a casual show of concern—any of these could send me into a state of euphoria and fuel my determination. I chased him for two years, and for two years, he rejected me. What finally broke through his defenses was his mother’s sudden illness. His entire family was helpless in the face of the thirty-thousand-dollar medical bill. As Nick grew thinner with each failed loan application, I took out my entire personal savings and gently asked him to accept it. That day, for the first time, I saw his helplessness, his vulnerability, and his gratitude. Three months later, he appeared below my dorm with a bouquet of roses. I ran into his arms, my face burning. I was trembling with happiness, and his eyes were red-rimmed too. “Anna, how can you love me so much? How did I get so lucky?” At Sylvia’s wedding, when she saw Nick and me arrive hand-in-hand, a flicker of something unreadable crossed her face. Later, coming out of the restroom, I saw them standing together on the balcony, talking. It was just like the day I first met them. The wind carried snippets of their conversation to me. “…I was waiting for you to say something back then…” “…Anna is a good girl…” “…I guess we just weren’t meant to be…” At the time, I thought, everyone has a youthful crush. She was married now, and Nick was good to me. We were on our own paths. That was all that mattered. But I never anticipated that life could fire an arrow backward, and that it would come with such devastating force. Six months ago, Sylvia got divorced. She had rushed into a marriage with a trust-fund kid, only to suffer infidelity and domestic abuse. He took their child and his family schemed to leave her with nothing. She found Nick, looking haggard and broken. A man always holds a special place for the girl he crushed on when he was poor. The first time she called, Nick was completely thrown. Perhaps to make up for a past regret, or perhaps to show off how successful he’d become, he threw himself into helping her. For the past six months, he has practically dropped everything for her—paying for lawyers, running around gathering evidence, confronting her ex-husband’s family, even spending holidays with her and her child. At first, I told him how uncomfortable it made me. He looked at me with disappointment, his voice cold. “Sylvia is from my hometown, and she was our classmate. She’s a woman who’s been abused and had her child taken from her. She’s at the end of her rope. Shouldn’t I help her?” So, time and time again, I was left behind. Time and time again, when I couldn’t reach him, I’d see him on Sylvia’s social media feed. A photo of his back as he helped her look for an apartment. His suit jacket draped over her sofa. Four hands playing with her golden retriever. Slowly, I stopped saying anything. When Nick didn’t come home, I went to bed early. When he spent a holiday at an amusement park with her and her son, I bought myself a very expensive handbag. Sylvia’s posts no longer stirred anything in me. I almost liked one out of habit. Nick was pleased with my understanding nature and bought me a large diamond as a gift. I expressed the appropriate surprise and gratitude, but when he leaned in to kiss me, I instinctively coughed and turned away. He froze, a complex expression on his face. And it was from that day on that I had a shocking realization: I think I didn’t love Nick anymore. The thought sent a wave of panic through me. No wonder I recoiled from his touch. No wonder his voice grated on my nerves. No wonder his clean clothes smelled so strangely repulsive to me. I didn’t love him anymore. But I didn’t know what to do. Divorce? On what grounds? That I’d fallen out of love? Marriage wasn’t a game, and I was certain no one would believe that reason. In everyone’s eyes, including Nick’s, I was madly in love with him. Because we didn’t get along? Nick wasn’t an expressive person by nature, but objectively, he treated me well—better after marriage than before. When my father’s company faced a crisis two years ago, he didn’t hesitate to invest heavily to save it. Because of Sylvia? I knew Nick. He wasn’t impulsive. Despite their recent closeness, I was sure nothing physical had happened. At least, not yet. I truly didn’t know what to do. I was trapped. I grew more unhappy, thinner. A pupa in a cocoon, seeing only a gray, hopeless world. Tonight. Now. Hearing Nick mention Sylvia’s name, I felt a sudden urge. My parents taught me to be brave in expressing love. Shouldn’t I be just as brave when the love was gone? “Nick.” My voice was steady in the darkness. “Maybe we should—” He cut me off with a sharp click of his tongue. “Alright, I don’t want to explain anything more about Sylvia.” He rolled over, his voice laced with impatience and restraint. “It’s Mom’s birthday this weekend. Pull yourself together. Don’t show up looking like this and make her worry.” I gazed at the pale moonlight outside the window. A soft, silvery light, just like Sylvia’s name. I let out a long, quiet sigh. 4 I own a small art gallery. It was a twentieth birthday gift from my mother. When a girl is unhappy, she’d said, she needs a place she loves to go to. In the last two years, I’ve been spending more and more time there. On the day of my mother-in-law’s birthday, I was a few minutes late to the restaurant because I was overseeing the delivery of a new collection of paintings. The moment I walked into the private room, I saw Sylvia. She was holding my mother-in-law’s arm affectionately, chattering away in their hometown dialect. They were both laughing heartily. Nick was sitting on a nearby sofa, legs crossed, smiling as he sipped his tea. When he saw me, his brow furrowed slightly. “Anna, I told you to be here early. What could possibly be more important today?” I handed the gift to my mother-in-law and offered a brief explanation. She didn’t take it, just glanced at me from under her heavy eyelids. “Her own mother-in-law isn’t as important as some outsider. I guess she looks down on me for being from the countryside.” I didn’t respond. I simply placed the gift in front of her and found a seat. This was how she always talked. For a long time after we got married, her passive-aggressive comments used to hurt me so much I’d cried to Nick about them several times. I didn’t understand it. Even if we weren’t family, she owed her life to the money I’d given her. Why was she so hostile? Nick’s response was always the same. “My mom had a hard life. For my sake, just try to be more understanding.” But a few months ago, I’d suddenly stopped caring about her attitude. Her barbs and glares bounced right off me. It was like watching a stranger, an old woman talking about someone else’s family. Sylvia smiled. “Anna, your mother-in-law insisted I come and join the fun today. I hope you don’t mind.” I looked at her and smiled back. “Not at all. The more the merrier.” “And please don’t be upset about all the times I’ve had to bother your husband lately,” Sylvia added. “I’d hate for my problems to affect your marriage.” “Don’t be silly. You’re from the same hometown, you were classmates. It’s the least he can do,” I said, popping a Shine Muscat grape into my mouth. I was parched from unloading the paintings. “Oh, and I should let you know, I couldn’t get a cab earlier, so I had Nick pick me up. I told him we should swing by and get you too, but he said it was too far out of the way. He’s still the same old Nick, so careless about things like that!” Sylvia said, beaming. I ate another grape. “I have my own car, it’s more convenient. If you ever need him in the future, just call him. You don’t have to tell me.” A flicker of surprise crossed Sylvia’s face. She paused, then gave a hesitant laugh. “Oh, I couldn’t do that.” “It’s really not a big deal.” As I finished speaking, I turned and saw Nick staring at me, his gaze deep and tinged with displeasure. I had no idea what I’d said wrong this time. But the confusion lasted only a second before I dismissed it. Throughout the meal, the three of them conversed entirely in their dialect. I kept my head down, silently scrolling through my phone. Suddenly, a glass of green juice appeared beside my hand. Nick’s voice was gentle. “I saw you enjoying the grapes, so I had the waiter juice some for you.” I was taken aback. “You juiced Shine Muscats? But I like eating them whole.” I looked up and saw Sylvia staring at the glass in front of me, her eyes gleaming. “Do you like this?” I asked her, pushing the glass in her direction. “You can have it.” Nick abruptly stood up, his voice cold. “I’m going to the restroom.” Later, I stepped outside to take a call from an employee. As I returned to the room, I heard my mother-in-law’s voice, loud and shrill in her dialect. “Four years and she can’t even produce a child. What’s the use of keeping her?” I froze, my hand on the door. Yes, I could understand their dialect. When we first got married, I did many things for Nick. To improve my relationship with his mother, I had secretly learned their language. Nick’s voice was firm. “Mom, I’ve told you before, don’t say things like that. Anna loves me very much, and she’s relied on me even more since her mother passed away. She wouldn’t be able to handle hearing you talk like that.” His mother sighed. “If it wasn’t for my illness holding you back, you wouldn’t have had to sacrifice your own happiness to be with her, and Sylvia wouldn’t have married that scumbag. But it’s not too late. Things are different now. Back then, her family had money. Now, you’re the one supporting her. Just give her a generous settlement in the divorce!” Sylvia’s voice was soft. “Auntie, you shouldn’t say things like that.” My eyes widened. If Nick agrees… A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. The room was quiet for a moment. Then, Nick’s voice, cold and resolute, rang out. “I can’t betray Anna! We’re husband and wife. Mom, she helped you once. Don’t ever say anything like this again!” My feelings were a tangled mess. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. 5 The final, explosive fight between Nick and me was, predictably, about Sylvia. And her dog. I came home one day to find Sylvia sitting on my sofa, the golden retriever from her social media posts lying at her feet. She smiled and explained, “Nick forgot a legal document at home, so I came back with him to get it.” My gaze fell on the crochet toy the dog was viciously tearing apart. It was a knitted rabbit my mother had made for me on her deathbed, forcing her weak hands to work. “I’ve given you many things, but they were all bought with money. Before I go, I want to make something for you with my own hands. Every stitch is my love for you. When you see this little rabbit, it will be like seeing me.” After she died, I placed the rabbit on the TV stand in the living room so I could see it every day. I barely dared to touch it, afraid of getting it dirty or frayed. Now, that rabbit was in the dog’s mouth, being kicked and shredded. The yarn was broken, the cotton stuffing spilling out like snow. A roar filled my ears. I couldn’t speak. I moved stiffly, trying to pry the dog’s jaws open. My mind was blank, filled only with the sound of Sylvia’s shocked cries, the dog’s frantic barking, and Nick’s sharp yell as he rushed out of the study. “Anna, are you crazy! It’s just a cheap toy, what does it matter!” Trembling, I held the tattered remains of the rabbit up to his face and shrieked, “A cheap toy? This is what you see? A cheap toy!?” He seemed to suddenly remember where the rabbit came from. A rare look of panic crossed his face, and he reached for me, flustered. “I’m sorry, Anna! It’s okay, we can fix it, I promise I’ll get it fixed for you!” I gritted my teeth and slapped him across the face. “Get out!” I screamed. “Both of you, get out!” His head snapped to the side from the force of the blow. Five red finger marks quickly bloomed on his pale skin, stark and shocking. He stared at me, frozen, his eyes wide with disbelief. “Nick, are you okay?!” Sylvia rushed over, her hands hovering nervously over his face. She turned to me, her voice a furious hiss. “I’ll pay you back! I’ll buy you a hundred, a thousand of them, alright? My dog ruined your toy, why are you hitting him?! Do you have any idea how hard he works every day? Are you even his wife?!” I felt as if I were trapped under a glass dome. The sounds of the outside world grew distant and muffled. The scene before me fractured into a series of still frames. The dismembered rabbit. Sylvia’s red lips opening and closing. Nick’s incredulous eyes. My vision went black, and I fell backward. “Anna!”

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Chapter 1 I never thought my ex-flame would use a company meeting to destroy me. But there it was. On my laptop screen, projected for the entire boardroom to see. A video of him and his current girlfriend, going at it. The sounds of their heavy breathing filled the room, amplifying the sudden, suffocating silence. Waves of shock and disdain crashed over me from my colleagues. Panic and shame clawed at my throat as I scrambled to slam the laptop shut. I turned, trembling, only to see Julian Thorne smirking, a cruel twist to his lips. “Can’t handle it?” he sneered. In that moment, I knew. He did this on purpose. He’d swapped my presentation. He wanted me humiliated. He wanted me to watch him making love to another woman until it broke me. I took a shaky breath, trying to steady my racing heart. I remembered when we were in love. We were so close, just waiting for that final barrier to fall. Then, my so-called best friend set me up. I was framed for climbing into his bed, then accused of digging for the Thorne family fortune and stealing trade secrets. Because of that scandal, the Thorne dynasty nearly collapsed. Julian’s parents, driving frantically to deal with debt collectors, lost control of their car on a cliffside road. No survivors. Everyone blamed me. I became the villain of the century. Then came the diagnosis: Leukemia. Not wanting to drag Julian down with a dying woman, I left. That’s when I found out I was pregnant. Twins. One was born weak and sickly; the other was taken from me, missing without a trace. When I returned, desperate for money to save the only child I had left, I swallowed my pride. I agreed to be Julian’s assistant. I knew he only kept me around to torture me. I bit my lip, refusing to look at him. But my silence only seemed to infuriate him. He let out a cold laugh, his fingers drumming rhythmically on the mahogany table. “Take it off.” Two words. The room cleared instantly, colleagues fleeing the tension. I looked at him in disbelief. “Take off what?” “Vanessa’s dress got ruined. She’s in my lounge right now, and she doesn’t want to see your face. So, take yours off and give it to her.” Julian’s voice was ice. My chest tightened, a suffocating pressure building behind my ribs. I swallowed the rising bile of grievance. “Julian,” I whispered. “If I strip in the conference room, how am I supposed to walk out of here?” “Walk out naked. Or were you hoping someone would carry you?” He leaned back, eyes dark. “Think about your situation, Elara. If you want the money, be a good girl.” The threat hung in the air. I unclenched my fists. My baby was in the ICU. I couldn’t watch my child die. Slowly, I reached for the zipper. The office lights glared off the glass walls. Outside, people were watching, waiting to see my shame. Finally, I tossed my dress onto the table. Julian watched, savoring my humiliation. “Does it hurt, Elara? You deserve it. Compared to what you did to me, this is nothing.” His malice was undisguised. Tears stung my eyes, but I forced them back. What did I do wrong back then? I was framed. No one believed me. I was innocent, yet I was the sinner in everyone’s eyes. I thought I had moved on, but the tears wouldn’t listen. Julian grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Crying? Already? Save your tears. You’re going to need them for what comes next.” He wiped a tear from my cheek with a rough thumb, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “I’m in a good mood. Company retreat tonight. Everyone attends. Especially you.” He let go, and the stinging in my bones—the leukemia—flared up, nearly buckling my knees. I sank to the floor, hugging myself, shivering. Even after he left, the phantom sounds of that video echoed in my ears. Hours later, after everyone had gone, a coworker quietly handed me a spare coat. “What did you do to offend the boss? He’s going to eat you alive at dinner.” It was the only kindness I’d felt in months. I shook my head, unable to speak. The history between Julian and me was too heavy for words. I knew he had more humiliation planned for the retreat, but I had no choice. When I pushed open the door to the private room at the restaurant, I saw her immediately. Vanessa, nestled in Julian’s arms. She was wearing a red slip dress—definitely not the one I had taken off. She smiled at me. “Julian said your dress was too shabby for me. You aren’t mad, are you, Elara?” I looked at her gloating face, pressed my lips together, and lowered my eyes. “Does she dare be mad?” Julian scoffed, addressing the room. He slid three full glasses of liquor across the table toward me. “Late arrivals are penalized three drinks. You know the rules.” My doctor had been explicitly clear: No alcohol. Not with the leukemia. “I can’t drink,” I said, my voice trembling. Julian’s face went cold. “Can’t drink? How about this?” He pulled a check from his pocket and slapped it onto the table. “Fifty thousand dollars. Finish the bottles on the table, and it’s yours. Is that enough?” He sneered. “For a woman like you, who’d do anything for cash, this should be easy.” My heart shattered. I stared at the check. I thought of the ICU bills. I closed my eyes, grabbed the first bottle, and started chugging. One bottle. Two. The pain in my stomach blurred as the alcohol hit my blood. The room went silent as they watched their CEO’s face grow darker with every swallow I took. He hated me, didn’t he? He should be happy I was debasing myself. Why did he look so angry? I slammed the last empty bottle down, snatched the check, and shoved it into my pocket. “I’ll take the check—” Before I could finish, the burning in my stomach sent me running. I barely made it to the restroom before throwing up everything, blood mixing with bile. I was rinsing my face with freezing water, shivering, when I heard a sharp voice behind me. “I overestimated you. I thought you really didn’t care.” Vanessa walked into the frame of the mirror, applying lipstick. “You left, broke his heart, and now you crawl back to seduce him? Have you no shame?” I looked up, panic setting in. Vanessa capped her lipstick aggressively. “Keep your mouth shut. After Julian and I get married next month, I’ll tell you where your other kid is. Until then, stay out of sight.” Chapter 2 “My child?” My eyes lit up. When I first returned, Vanessa hinted she knew what happened to my missing twin. I had to believe her. I’d been searching for years while trying to keep my sick child alive. I stepped closer, desperate. “Where? Tell me!” But as I moved, I saw the hickeys on her neck. My breath hitched. Then, a sharp cramp in my stomach doubled me over. Vanessa watched coldly. “I’m actually worried you won’t live long enough to find out. Try not to die, Elara.” She clicked away in her high heels. Sweat drenched my back. I gripped the sink, forcing myself to stand. I had to live. For the kids. I dragged myself to the hospital. Dr. Liam Pierce looked at my test results and went silent. “Your condition is critical, and you’re drinking? Do you want to die? Your stomach is bleeding. You need to be admitted. Now.” My lips were pale. “Liam, I need the money. Just give me the meds, like usual.” He sighed, frustrated, but wrote the prescription. I visited my baby in the ward, then checked my bank account. Less than a hundred dollars. I clutched the fifty-thousand-dollar check, grateful I had sold my dignity for it. On the waiting room TV, news of the Julian-Vanessa engagement was breaking. They looked perfect together. My eyes burned. I went home to take my meds. I woke up at 3:00 AM to a dozen missed calls from Julian. Thinking maybe he felt guilty, I called back. “What kind of garbage was that proposal you submitted?” His voice was freezing. “Redo it. I want a satisfactory draft by morning, or don’t bother coming in.” I checked my laptop. I had sent that draft three days ago. He hadn’t even opened it. In the background of the call, I heard a woman’s moan. “Julian… please… I can’t take anymore…” “You started this fire,” Julian growled. “Already tired?” I hung up, tears streaming down my face. I spent the rest of the night rewriting the proposal to save my child. The next morning, I handed him the new draft. He didn’t even read it. He threw the file in my face. “I told you to redo it, not give me this trash.” He walked to the shredder and fed my night’s work into it, staring at me the whole time. I stumbled back, falling, hitting my bruised knees. My leukemia caused my bones to ache constantly, but my heart hurt worse. I looked up at his hate-filled eyes. “Okay. I’ll write it again.” I went back to my desk. Halfway through, a stack of contracts landed on my head. “Why didn’t you go to the meeting with Mr. Carter yesterday?” Julian demanded. “Remember your place, Elara. If you want money, do your job.” Yesterday? When he made me strip? How could I meet a client like that? “Yesterday, I—” “Excuses?” He cut me off. “If we lose this contract, the loss comes out of your pocket.” I nearly fainted. The contract was worth millions. I couldn’t pay that. He was driving me to a dead end. I rushed to Carter Corp to apologize. The receptionist kicked me out. “No appointment, no entry.” I waited outside for three hours in the scorching sun, then a sudden downpour soaked me to the bone. From the building across the street, I saw a silhouette in the window. Julian, swirling a glass of wine, smiling as I stood in the rain. How does it feel, Elara? his eyes seemed to say. I wiped rain from my face. I didn’t kill his parents. He never believed me. Then Vanessa appeared beside him. They toasted, laughed, and kissed passionately against the glass. My heart went numb. The rain beat down, reminding me of the past. Once, in a storm, a pervert followed me. Julian had appeared, soaked half his body to keep me dry under his umbrella. “I’ll protect you forever, Elara,” he had said. Now, he was the storm. I laughed until I cried, unable to tell rain from tears. Finally, Carter’s car pulled out. The window rolled down. It was Julian driving. Vanessa was in the passenger seat. “Mr. Carter,” I begged, rushing to the car. “Just ten minutes, please!” Julian laughed. “You beg with no sincerity, Elara. Look at you. Disgusting.” He floored the gas. The car grazed my knee, knocking me into a puddle. Vanessa mouthed Loser and gave me the finger as they sped away. I sat in the mud, powerless. But I thought of the hospital bills. I forced myself up, limping to hail a taxi. “Follow that Maybach.” Chapter 3 I followed them to a shooting range. I ran up to Carter’s group, holding the soggy proposal. But Vanessa grabbed Julian’s arm, smiling wickedly. “Julian, I have a great idea for a game. But we need Elara’s help.” My stomach churned. “If Elara agrees to be our target,” Vanessa purred to Carter, “you should give her a chance to pitch. Deal?” Julian paused, then tapped Vanessa’s nose affectionately. “You always have such fun ideas.” He turned to me, his face hardening. “Unlike some money-hungry women who are just boring and vulgar.” I stood there, swaying. I wanted to scream that I did this for our son. But I couldn’t. “Fine,” I croaked. I put on the protective gear and stood by the targets. Before I was ready, Vanessa fired. The bullet grazed my left ear. Blood trickled down. It burned, but I felt numb. “You’re terrible at this, Elara! You’re supposed to dodge!” Vanessa laughed. “Good aim,” Julian clapped. My heart bled. He was cheering for the woman shooting at me. Bang. Another shot hit my stomach. The impact knocked the wind out of me. I fell, gasping. “Julian! Did you see? Bullseye!” Vanessa squealed, hugging him. “You’re amazing, babe,” Julian said. Then he pointed at me. “Get up. Let her shoot again. Or the deal is off.” I looked at him, remembering the eighteen-year-old boy who used to hold the gun for me so the recoil wouldn’t hurt my shoulder. That boy was dead. I forced myself up. Vanessa fired again. A hit to the chest. I collapsed, hitting my head on the back wall. The world spun. “Is she dead?” Vanessa scoffed. “Julian, surely she’s faking it.” “She’s nothing,” Julian said. “Get up, Elara. Stop being dramatic.” I watched him pick up a gun. He aimed. I froze. The bullet whizzed past my nose, grazing the tip. Blood gushed out. Tears blurred my vision. Those eyes… they used to look at me with so much love. Now, only hate. “You said… if I did this… I’d get a chance,” I gasped. Julian frowned, tossing the gun aside. “I was joking. You didn’t actually believe me, did you?” My world tilted. Joking? With my life? “You’re despicable, Julian!” I screamed. “Despicable? I’m not even half as bad as you were,” he retorted, turning to leave with Vanessa. I panicked and grabbed Carter’s sleeve. He shoved me away. “Don’t touch me. I didn’t promise anything. Ask the lady.” I realized this was all Vanessa’s game. But before I could beg her, Carter grabbed my arm. “Actually, I changed my mind. Julian’s ex is dirtying my suit. Lick it clean, and I’ll listen to your pitch. Right here, in front of Julian.” Carter sat down, spreading his legs, pointing to a spot on his shoe—or perhaps higher. It was pure humiliation. My nails dug into my palms. “Hurry up!” Carter barked. He grabbed my hair and forced my head down. Terrified, I reached out and grabbed Julian’s pant leg. “Julian, please…” He paused. Then he kicked my hand away. “What does this have to do with me? Who do you think you are to ask for my help?” He lit a cigarette, pulling Vanessa close. “Open your eyes. I have a girlfriend. Flirting with me in front of her? Do you think I won’t hurt you?” My heart froze. I couldn’t defend myself. “Elara is so stupid,” Vanessa giggled. “Did you really think anyone would dare bully you without Julian’s permission?” Her words struck me like lightning. I closed my eyes, accepting the despair. Carter pushed my head down harder. “Enough chatting. Show some sincerity.” Chapter 4 Carter wasn’t really going to let me pitch. He just wanted to break me. As he forced my head down, I panicked. I grabbed a heavy ashtray from the table and smashed it against his head. Slap. Carter backhanded me so hard my vision went black. I heard the sound of a second blow coming, but it never landed. Julian had stopped his hand. For a second, I saw concern in Julian’s eyes. But then he smiled, a cruel, twisted thing. He pulled out his phone. “911? I’d like to report an assault.” My hope died. “Did you think I was saving you?” he whispered, leaning down. “Use your brain. I’m calling the cops on you.” I collapsed, sobbing uncontrollably. “Why are you doing this to me?” “You owe me this,” he hissed. “Go to jail and think about what you did.” Vanessa stepped on my hand with her stiletto heel as they left. “Enjoy the cell, Elara.” Seven days in detention. The inmates knew who put me there. They tortured me. Maggots in my food. Ice water at midnight. Beating me in the bathrooms. “Who do you think you are?” the leader of the cell block shouted, slamming my head into the wall. “Trying to seduce Mr. Thorne? With Miss Vanessa in the picture? You’re trash.” I lay on the cold floor, hallucinating the old Julian. The one who brought me water after gym class. The one who ignored everyone else just to sit by me. When I was released, I dragged my broken body home. The door was smashed open. Men were tearing my apartment apart. “Pay up!” one shouted. “You owe us on the loan!” “I never took a loan!” I cried. “Get out!” Vanessa walked in, clapping. “Still feisty?” Julian followed her. “I took the loan out in your name. To cover the losses from the Carter deal. You messed up, you pay.” My blood ran cold. He was systematically destroying me. My bank accounts were frozen. How would I pay for the hospital? “Julian, please,” I begged, grabbing his sleeve. “What do I have to do for you to let me go?” He shook me off. “Let you go? Did you let my parents go? I want you to suffer for the rest of your life.” I fell to the floor. When his family went bankrupt, I watched him work night shifts, living in a basement. I left him because I was dying and pregnant, not because I didn’t love him. I tried to save him from my burden. “Search the place!” Julian ordered the thugs. “Take anything valuable.” They smashed my furniture. I tried to stop them, but they shoved me into a bookshelf. Books rained down on me. Vanessa picked up a brown leather notebook. “Ooh, what’s this?”

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The man I had secretly loved for ten years finally confessed his feelings to me. But this time, I rejected him without a moment’s hesitation. In my past life, I had said yes, ecstatic beyond belief. I didn’t know then that my “dream guy,” Professor Adrian Thorne, only confessed to me to spite his adopted sister, Lily, during a petty argument. Three days after I agreed to be his girlfriend, Lily showed up with teary eyes, acting apologetic and spoiled. Adrian’s heart melted instantly. To comfort her, he abandoned me in a pitch-black alleyway during a thunderstorm. He left me there for three agonizing hours. I was cornered by a drunk who tore my clothes while I screamed for help that never came. When I finally limped back, shivering and traumatized, asking Adrian why he left me, he simply looked at me coldly and said three words: “Let’s break up.” Later, when Lily discovered I was still lingering in the city, she “accidentally” rammed her car into me, leaving me permanently disabled. I sued her. I dragged her to court. But Adrian, the man I once loved, threatened me in the hallway of the courthouse. “Drop the lawsuit, Harper. Or the next thing you see will be your mother’s corpse.” I didn’t believe he would actually protect a criminal to the point of murder. I didn’t believe he would kill my mom. I was wrong. When I found my mother lying in a pool of blood at our doorstep, her body already cold, I realized the truth: this man was a demon. This time, I’m done. I won’t be a pawn in their twisted game. Facing his confession now, everyone looked shocked. Even Adrian stared at me in disbelief. But I just walked right past him, straight toward the guy standing behind him. “Hey, handsome,” I said, my voice steady. “Considering a girlfriend?” Chapter 1 In less than an hour, the news had spread across the entire university campus like wildfire. It was no secret that I, Harper Vance, had been obsessed with Adrian Thorne for years. But now, I had seemingly had a change of heart. I had set my sights on the campus bad boy, Jax Cole. Realizing I was talking to him, Jax paused, stunned. Then, a slow smirk spread across his face as he capped his water bottle with one hand. “You serious?” In front of everyone, he stepped forward, cornering me against the wall. “If you want to be my girl, there’s no room in your heart for anyone else.” He shot a pointed look over my shoulder at Adrian. Not just him—everyone knew I was practically famous for being Adrian’s doormat. I nodded, looking him in the eye. “I’m serious. From now on, I only like you.” I paused, then added, “Starting right now.” A flash of surprise hit Jax’s eyes, quickly replaced by a complex, playful look. “Alright then. I’ll trust you this once.” He pulled a vintage wooden beaded bracelet off his wrist and slid it onto mine. “Family heirloom. You wear this, you’re mine. No take-backs.” Jax’s entourage looked like their jaws were about to hit the floor. “Jax, dude, since when are you so easy?” “That’s Harper Vance. Don’t you usually roll your eyes when you see her? How did you just…” Jax shot them a glare. “Cut the crap. Go get me a ring and some flowers. Now.” His tone was lighter than I’d ever heard it. I knew why he used to give me the stink eye. He hated seeing me chase after Adrian like a desperate puppy. He had always had a crush on me. This time, I was going to give him—and myself—a real chance. As I turned to leave with Jax, a voice called out from behind. “Harper!” Adrian finally snapped out of his shock, frowning deeply. “Harper Vance, are you sleepwalking?” he demanded. “You rejected me? Why did you send me love letters every day? Why did you bring me breakfast every morning?” Adrian looked genuinely confused. He thought bagging me would be easy. He never expected I wouldn’t even deign to look at him. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Professor Thorne, which of those breakfasts didn’t end up in your trash can?” “Nobody waits in the same spot forever. Besides…” I sharpened my gaze. “I was confused before. There are boundaries between students and professors. We should keep them.” I turned to walk away, but Adrian’s frown deepened. He was a young entrepreneur, serving as a guest lecturer because of his friendship with the Dean. I hadn’t gone five steps before he grabbed my arm. “Harper.” “You said you loved me.” He was such a weirdo. Before, when I chased him relentlessly, he couldn’t be bothered to look at me. Now that I was ignoring him, he was obsessed. “I see your worth now,” he said urgently. “Just say yes, and you’re my girlfriend. Right now.” I tilted my head, looking at him with mock surprise. “Wow. You make it sound like you’re the Emperor choosing a concubine.” “Why do I have to say yes just because you confessed?” “Who I like is my freedom. And honestly, why would I like you? You’re so much older than me.” A sneer curled on my lips. “I prefer guys my own age.” His face drained of color. His grip loosened. I seized the chance and walked away fast. When I was finally out of his sight, my heart was still pounding against my ribs. I lied. I wasn’t just rejecting him because of age. Since being reborn, I physically couldn’t handle being near him. Seeing his face just brought back the image of my mother in that pool of blood. Her eyes wide open, staring at nothing. Her dying words echoing in my mind: “My sweet girl, stay away from that man… run…” So this time, I’m listening to Mom. Chapter 2 I thought making things clear that day would stop Adrian. After all, his confession was impulsive. He only did it to make Lily jealous. In my past life, I was too stupid to see the game. I was just the rebound. This time, I was determined to stay far away. But unexpectedly, Adrian stuck to me like gum on a shoe. “Harper, look. Professor Thorne keeps staring at you,” my classmate nudged me during a lecture. “That video of him confessing to you went viral on the campus network. You’re famous now.” “Look at those soulful eyes. Maybe your years of being a simp actually worked? Maybe you moved him?” I followed her gaze. Adrian caught my eye instantly. I looked away in less than a second. It was a headache. I had signed up for all his classes back when I was chasing him. Now, for the sake of my GPA, I had to sit through them. My classmate kept gossiping, so I sighed. “Just listen to the lecture.” “Stop spreading rumors with the others. Professor Thorne and I have nothing to do with each other.” I tuned out the class, focusing entirely on my dinner plans—Hot Pot with Jax. When class ended, a torrential downpour had started outside. Of course, I didn’t have an umbrella. Students trickled out of the building, leaving me standing under the eaves like a sitting duck. Suddenly, a black umbrella shielded me from above. “Take this,” Adrian’s deep, magnetic voice sounded right by my ear. In the past, hearing him speak to me would have kept me awake all night with excitement. Now, I just wanted to run. “No thanks. My boyfriend is picking me up.” I pulled out my phone to text Jax. The screen lit up. Adrian’s face went dark. “Your wallpaper. When did you change it?” I looked at my phone innocently. “This? Oh, I changed it the day we started dating.” “I have a boyfriend now. It’s inappropriate to have another man on my screen.” Adrian’s expression turned stormy. For five years, my wallpaper had been a candid shot of Adrian’s back. He knew about it. But the moment I was reborn, I deleted it. I couldn’t find a stock photo I liked, so I used a selfie Jax had sent me. Honestly, it was growing on me. “Harper…” Adrian started, his voice low. “Harper!” Jax’s voice cut through the rain. A sleek car pulled up. Jax stepped out, saw the umbrella in Adrian’s hand, and smirked. He opened his own umbrella, walked over, and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Professor Thorne, thanks for the offer, but it’s not needed. I pick up my own girlfriend.” I got into Jax’s car. As we drove away, I looked back. Adrian was standing there like a statue in the rain, staring after us. If I didn’t know the monster hiding underneath, I might have been fooled by the depth of emotion in his eyes. “Stop looking. Your Professor is gone,” Jax said, glancing at me with a hint of sarcasm. I punched his arm lightly. “What do you mean ‘mine’? I have nothing to do with him.” Jax laughed, surrendering. “Okay, okay, my bad.” We arrived at the Hot Pot place. He held my hand the whole time, his gaze terrifyingly gentle. “Harper, I swear I feel like I’m dreaming. I wake up and you’re actually my girlfriend.” I slapped his arm again. “Stop being weird. Let’s eat, I’m starving.” After dinner, we went to a movie. I was so tired I fell asleep. When I woke up, I was lying on Jax’s lap. He had held the same pose all night, terrified to wake me. “Is your leg numb?” I asked. Jax tried to look cool. “Nah, impossible.” But as we walked out, I saw him grimacing in the reflection of a glass window, trying to shake the feeling back into his leg. I smiled to myself. Maybe loving someone else was the right choice after all. Chapter 3 I wanted to go home and see my mom. In my last life, she was the person I failed the most. Just because I fell in love, she ended up dead. I wanted justice for my disability, but she became the hostage Adrian used against me. “Drop the lawsuit, or you’ll see your mother’s corpse.” That sentence still haunted my nightmares. After school, I was waiting for a cab at the gate when a bright pink Porsche swerved and accelerated straight toward me. My legs turned to jelly. The memories of the crash flooded back. It was Lily’s car! Panic seized me. I can’t get hit. I scrambled to the side, rolling on the pavement. The Porsche slammed into a stone pillar, the hood crunching on impact. The door opened. Lily stepped out in a frilly princess dress. She didn’t care about her wrecked car. She only had eyes full of hate for me. “You slut! You think you can seduce my brother? Look at yourself!” “You’re ugly and manipulative. I see right through you.” This woman was seriously mentally ill. She tries to run me over and then insults me? She was so spoiled by Adrian she thought she was above the law. If she didn’t go to prison this time, there was no justice in the world. I looked at her, baffled. “Lady, do I know you? Why are you trying to kill me?” “This is a civilized society. If you mess with me again, I’m calling the cops.” Lily crossed her arms, looking down her nose at me. “Don’t you know who my brother is? Even if I killed you today, nothing would happen to me.” “Is that so?” I sneered and dialed 911. “Police? I’m at the University gate. Someone just attempted to murder me with a vehicle.” Lily thought I was a pushover. She didn’t know I was a ghost who had crawled back from hell. In my past life, when Adrian protected her after she killed my mom, I took a knife and stabbed them both before turning myself in. I believe in revenge. Soon, Adrian and the police arrived together. “What happened?” Lily immediately put on her act, clinging to his arm, sobbing. “Adrian, this woman bullied me! I was just driving, and she threw herself at my car! She wrecked my Porsche!” I almost laughed. She lied as easily as breathing. The officer asked me for a statement. I simply pointed to the surveillance camera on the street light. “Just watch the tape. It’ll clear everything up.” Adrian nodded, moving to check the footage, but Lily grabbed him. “Brother, don’t you believe me?” Adrian gently peeled her hand off his arm. “At home, I can tolerate your tantrums. But outside, you follow the law.” “If you’re innocent, I’ll help you. If you did this, I won’t protect you.” Panic flashed across Lily’s face. The footage was clear. She deliberately swerved to hit me. Lily was taken to the station for questioning. As they put her in the squad car, she glared back at me. “Harper Vance, just you wait!” I brushed the dust off my hands. Wait? I’ve been to hell and back. I’m not scared of a brat. When I got home, I cooked dinner for my mom. Seeing her alive, eating the food I made, felt better than anything in the world. After dinner, I walked Jax out. But in the stairwell, someone pinned me against the wall. “Harper…” Adrian. He was drunk. “Harper… don’t leave me.” Chapter 4 I was baffled. Adrian didn’t like me. He loved Lily. Why was he acting like the deep, soulful romantic now? I pushed him away. “Adrian, you’re drunk. Let go.” Luckily, Jax hadn’t gone far. I called him back, and together we shoved Adrian into a cab. On the way back up, Jax looked serious. “Adrian likes you.” “Don’t be stupid,” I scoffed. “He just lost his designated admirer and feels uncomfortable. He misses the ego boost.” Jax shook his head. “Men know men. I know that look.” I still thought he was crazy. No man destroys the woman he loves and her entire family. If that’s love, I’d rather be hated. I tried to avoid Adrian after that. But his sister, Lily, kept finding ways to torture me. She’d “accidentally” spill red wine on me at the cafeteria. She’d swap my assignments so I’d get failed. She even transferred to our school. On her first day, she gathered a clique of mean girls and blocked my path. “Harper Vance, know your place. Mess with the Princess, and you’ll regret it.” But they never got the chance to really hurt me. My “Guardian Angel” was always there. Jax was sharp. He noticed their tricks and pulled strings behind the scenes. After a few silent warnings from the Cole family, they didn’t dare touch me. Lily tried everything. She framed me for theft to get me expelled. But Jax was the heir to the Cole Empire. One phone call to the Dean, and the problem vanished. Frustrated, Lily changed tactics. She tried to convince Adrian to leave. “Brother, you don’t need the money. Why teach here?” “Let’s go home. You said you’d give me half the company. Teach me how to run it instead.” Adrian didn’t even look up from his papers. “I’ll tell my assistant to train you.” Her beauty trap failed. So, Lily went nuclear. She decided to drug Adrian and frame me for it, intending to expose a “scandalous teacher-student affair” via livestream to ruin my reputation forever. Her assistant looked worried. “Miss Thorne, are you sure? If Adrian finds out you drugged him to get rid of Harper, he’ll be furious…” “Shut up,” Lily snapped. “I know my brother. He’s just temporarily blinded by that bitch.” “I don’t believe that after seeing us shamed on a livestream, he’ll still look at her with anything but disgust!” Lily set the trap. She dosed Adrian’s juice. She planned for her bodyguards to drag me into the hotel room. “Is the trap set?” “Yes, Miss Thorne.” Lily smiled, adjusting the hidden camera. “Harper Vance, after tonight, you’ll be the internet’s favorite punching bag. And my brother will hate your guts.” She handed the camera controls to her assistant. “Ten minutes. Start the stream and burst in. We’re putting on a show.” The assistant nodded, waiting outside. He checked his watch. Three… two… one… Time’s up. The assistant took a deep breath, kicked the door open with the camera rolling, ready to recite his script. But when he saw the bed, his eyes nearly popped out of his skull. “Miss… Miss Thorne? Why are YOU in the bed?”

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My childhood best friend died saving me from a fire. Soon after, a “System” appeared. It told me that if I could knock the school’s golden boy, Sebastian Thorne, off his pedestal, I could bring my best friend back to life. So, I did what I had to do. I approached the aloof, untouchable genius. I became the only girl he let into his life. Two weeks before our final exams—the SATs—I suddenly saw floating comments scroll across my vision like a live stream. [This villainess is so dumb. She doesn’t even know Tyler is the illegitimate son of the Thorne family. Faking his death and pretending to be a System just to drive the genius crazy…] [Poor Sebastian. He’s been secretly in love with the villainess for seven years. He’s going to skip the SATs for her, only to find out the truth at his 18th birthday party. His mom jumps off a building from the shock, and he’s traumatized for life.] [Hurry up, Heroine! Our male lead needs you to save him!] I froze. I stared at Sebastian, who was currently kneeling on one knee, tying my shoelace. “Sebastian,” I whispered. “Let’s get into MIT together, okay?” Chapter 1 The floating comments paused for a second. Then they scrolled furiously. [Did I hear that right? The villainess wants to go to MIT with the male lead? What about our precious Heroine?] [What is she doing? Isn’t she obsessed with Tyler? Is this some new manipulation tactic?] Sebastian looked just as surprised. He looked up, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. “MIT? But Cece, you said you hated nerds…” Guilt washed over me. Sebastian was brilliant, elegant, and kind. He was anything but a stereotypical nerd. I had only said that to manipulate him, to make him give up on his academic future. Seeing my silence, a shadow crossed his eyes, but he quickly replaced it with a gentle smile. “Is this another test? Don’t worry, Cece. I won’t take the SATs.” “I promised you. I never break a promise.” The comments exploded again. [This villainess is evil! Look at how she’s gaslighting him! He feels like he has to prove himself constantly.] [Thank god the male lead is smart. He saw right through her. Not gonna lie, I almost believed her.] [My poor boy. Giving up his future for her… being a good kid his whole life and now this…] Lines of text flashed before my eyes. I pushed down the panic rising in my chest and looked Sebastian straight in the eye. “It’s not a test, Sebastian. I want to go to MIT.” “With you.” “So, starting today, let’s study properly, okay?” The comments were in chaos. Sebastian looked equally confused. Shock mixed with a glimmer of hope. He opened his mouth, closed it, and just looked at me, unsure. I must have been so cruel before that he didn’t dare believe me now. I sighed, feeling helpless and guilty. I reached out and cupped his face. “Sebastian, really. Not a test.” “I swear. If I’m lying to you this time, I’ll…” He put a finger to my lips, silencing me. “Don’t swear. I believe you.” Chapter 2 After sending Sebastian home, I collapsed onto my sofa, exhausted. My phone buzzed relentlessly in my pocket. I pulled it out. Messages from “The System” flooded the screen. [Cecilia, why haven’t you completed the mission?] [Don’t you want to bring Tyler back?] [Don’t forget, he died saving YOU! Being passive with your tasks… how can you face Tyler?] Tyler. My childhood friend. A year ago, my house caught fire. My parents were working late, and I was a heavy sleeper. I almost didn’t wake up. Tyler rushed into the flames alone and carried me out. But he was exhausted. A falling beam trapped him inside. When I woke up in the hospital, he was just a jar of ashes. After Tyler died, my family’s life fell apart. Our home was gone. The fire spread to the neighbors, and the compensation wiped out my parents’ savings and buried them in debt. Tyler’s mom hated us. She even tried to run my mom over with her car. That’s when “The System” found me. I received an anonymous package containing an old smartphone and a note. [Want to resurrect Tyler?] [Unlock this.] The moment I unlocked it, anonymous texts started appearing. The sender claimed to be a System trapped in the phone due to some cosmic rule. It said if I successfully completed the “Conquest Mission”—knocking the golden boy Sebastian Thorne off his pedestal—I could revive Tyler and erase everything the fire destroyed. I believed it. I desperately wanted Tyler back. I wanted my life back. So I clung to that hope. I did everything “The System” asked. Get close to Sebastian. Seduce Sebastian. Destroy Sebastian. Until an hour ago, when I saw those strange comments. Chapter 3 The phone was still buzzing. [Cecilia! Answer me!] [Have you forgotten? You killed Tyler!] [You can’t even do this one small thing? Do you deserve his sacrifice?] Every sentence was an accusation. But the floating comments were reacting even stronger than I was. [Honestly, the villainess is kind of pitiful. She’s carrying all this guilt for a death that wasn’t her fault. Tyler is trash for gaslighting her like this.] [Wake up, girl! Tyler set the fire himself!] [In the original story, she finds out later and regrets everything. She’s not evil, just manipulated. Later, when Tyler kidnaps the Heroine, the villainess saves her and dies taking Tyler down with her…] Tyler set the fire? My heart seized. As if proving the comments right, a video materialized in the air. Dim club lighting. Tyler, alive and well, with a girl on each arm, looking arrogant and cruel. It was a side of him I’d never seen. His friends were laughing, passing a phone around. “Ty, what’s up with your little pet? Usually she replies instantly. It’s been half an hour.” “Maybe she figured it out?” Tyler smirked lazily. “Does she dare?” “True,” someone laughed. “Last time she was two hours late, you had someone hit her dad with a car and blamed it on ‘System Punishment.’ She totally bought it. A dutiful daughter like her wouldn’t gamble with her parents’ lives.” The car accident… I started trembling uncontrollably. Hatred, pure and cold, surged through me. I remembered that day. It was a “System Mission.” I had to intercept Sebastian on his way home and convince him to give up his spot in an international competition. I waited on his route and ran into the road when I saw his license plate. The driver was skilled; he stopped inches from me. I was terrified. I looked up into Sebastian’s worried eyes. “Sebastian, my head hurts.” Just one sentence. He missed his flight to Europe. He stayed by my hospital bed for twenty-four hours until the doctors cleared me. When I got home, I met Tyler’s mom downstairs. She said she was going to visit Tyler’s grave and demanded I go buy his favorite pastries from a shop twenty miles away. The subway ride took exactly two hours. I rushed home, only to find a pool of blood downstairs. And my mother, weeping uncontrollably. Chapter 4 “The System” had given me an explanation then. [Cecilia, the Main System detected your passive attitude. Your father’s accident is a punishment.] I couldn’t accept it. The phone “The System” gave me was an old model with a terrible battery. It died before I got home, and the charger port was obsolete. If I hadn’t gone to buy those pastries… “The System” paused for a few minutes after hearing my plea. [I will report this anomaly to the Main System. Don’t worry, the System will arrange the best medical care for your father. But remember, never go silent for more than an hour again.] [Your excuse is accepted this time. Only this time.] My thoughts snapped back to the video floating in the air. “Ty really went hard that time. Almost killed the old man. Hahaha! If her dad died, she might stop listening to you.” Tyler smirked. “What’s there to be afraid of? I sent him to the hospital, didn’t I? He won’t die. Besides, if her dad dies, she still has a mom, right?” I clenched my teeth so hard my jaw ached. The laughter in the video grated on my nerves. In that moment, I wanted to kill Tyler with my own hands. The comments scrolled by: [Screw this guy. How can a human being be this disgusting?] [Tyler grew up in Cecilia’s house because his parents ignored him. Her parents treated him like a son. He’s an animal.] [Ahhhh I can’t take it! Villainess, please wake up!] I forced down the hate. My hands shaking, I typed a reply to Tyler. [No.] [Something came up. I didn’t have time.] He replied instantly. [Fine. New mission.] [Within 24 hours, use any method necessary to make Sebastian break ties with his mother.] [Cecilia, this is your last chance.] [Your parents’ lives, and Tyler’s life, are in your hands.] I froze. Before I could reply, the comments went wild. [OMG! This is it! The turning point! The male lead fights with his mom about quitting school and runs away. His mom faints from anger, and his scumbag dad feeds her the wrong medicine—nerve-damaging drugs!] [Don’t remind me… Sebastian’s mom is a powerhouse, super cautious. If she hadn’t been heartbroken over her son, the dad never would have had the chance.] [Then the dad tricks her into signing over her assets and brings Tyler to Sebastian’s 18th birthday party…] [Villainess, I’m begging you, don’t do it!] I stared at the text. I decided to go find Sebastian.

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My roommate had the ability to project her thoughts into other people’s minds. In my past life, she crafted an image of pure innocence, using her inner voice to spread rumors and tear me down. I was despised and ostracized for no reason, even harassed by thugs she manipulated. It wasn’t until the moment I died that I realized she had been broadcasting lies about me the entire time. Reborn, I found myself bound to a “Modification System.” During a class meeting, my roommate projected a fake “worried” thought to everyone: (Daisy is working as an escort again… it’s just not right for her to do that.) I scoffed internally and used the system to rewrite what everyone heard: (Ugh, it feels itchy again. Maybe I should go strip at the club tonight to scratch the itch.) 1 “Bitch, playing hard to get, huh?” A drunk thug lunged out of the darkness, grabbing me by the throat and slapping me across the face. I was stunned by the blow. In that moment of daze, my roommate, Bella, shoved me hard to the ground and used the distraction to run away. I couldn’t move. A piercing pain shot up from my ankle. The drunk, acting like a madman, grabbed my collar and rained another fist down on me. I opened my mouth to scream for help. Realizing what I was doing, the thug clamped a hand over my nose and mouth, dragging me toward a dark alley. As I struggled, my strength faded, and my breathing grew shallow. On the verge of death, I saw Bella hiding nearby. She was holding up her phone, recording, her eyes gleaming with excitement. Noticing my pleading gaze, she smiled, her lips moving silently. I barely made out the words: “Die, you bitch.” My strength finally gave out, and I suffocated in the darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my dorm room. … I sat at my desk, hand raised in confusion, when the door swung open. Bella walked in, pushing a suitcase, flashing that same innocent, sweet smile. “Hi there! Are you Daisy? I’m Bella. We’re going to be roommates!” Looking at her beaming face, a storm raged inside me. I had actually gone back to the first day of college. Just like in my past life, Bella was incredibly warm to me right from the start. But remembering her betrayal made my stomach turn. I responded with a lukewarm greeting. Bella acted like we were soulmates, completely ignoring my coldness. She clung to me all day. Just as I started to wonder if my rebirth was just a dream, night fell. I lay in bed, and Bella’s angry voice suddenly rang in my ear. (Ugh, what a pretentious bitch.) I frowned, about to tell her to keep it down since I was trying to sleep. But a second later, her voice continued: (Daisy, that little slut. If I didn’t need to steal her luck, who would bother with her? Acting all high and mighty.) I froze. That wasn’t spoken aloud. It was her inner voice. A stream of insults and curses flooded my ears. Hearing these thoughts, my feelings were complicated. This was the first time we had met in this life. Just because I was a little cold, she hated me this much? I sat up and looked at her bed. Sensing my gaze, Bella sat up too. Her voice was soft, her smile gentle. “What’s wrong, Daisy? Can’t sleep?” But her inner voice was full of disgust: (What is she looking at? Did she hear me? Impossible. I didn’t choose to let her hear my thoughts.) Looking at her two-faced performance, I stayed silent for a moment, then shook my head and lay back down. That night, I had a dream. I watched Bella from a third-person perspective. Finally, I understood why, in my past life, people who were initially friendly started looking at me with disdain and disgust shortly after school started. Even the counselor became biased against me. I gritted my teeth. It was all Bella. She was using her ability to project her thoughts into others’ minds, spreading rumors about my “chaotic” private life. In her broadcasted thoughts, I was a gold-digger with a nasty personality who badmouthed everyone behind their backs, slept around, and stole other girls’ boyfriends. Everyone could hear her thoughts—except me. People assumed that since they were “accidentally” overhearing her inner monologue, it must be the truth. Naturally, they didn’t suspect she was fabricating it. Because of her “thoughts,” everyone quietly distanced themselves from me. Bewildered by the isolation, I had no choice but to cling to Bella. This made her look like the innocent, kind-hearted flower being deceived by me. In everyone’s eyes, I was the leech attached to her. And then later… Bella repeatedly “accidentally” walked past thugs outside campus, projecting thoughts that I had a crush on them but was too shy to make a move. Hearing this over and over, the thugs believed it. Whenever they saw me, they would harass me, getting handsy and making lewd comments. I couldn’t take it anymore and called the police. But after getting out of the station, one of the thugs got drunk and came looking for revenge. That led to the final tragedy. Bella pushed me down to save herself, then recorded my assault. She used that video to “confirm” the rumors of my loose morals, ensuring that even in death, I was spat upon. I woke up from the nightmare drenched in cold sweat, shaking with rage. Bella was fast asleep. I wanted nothing more than to strangle her right then and there. Digging my nails into my palms, I forced myself to calm down. I didn’t know why I was reborn, but if Bella continued her tricks, I stood no chance. What was I supposed to do? Grab people and yell, “Bella’s thoughts are fake, don’t believe them”? That was unrealistic. I furrowed my brow, desperately thinking of a solution. Bella had targeted me from the start for my “luck.” It was clear she wouldn’t let me go easily this time either. Just as I was racking my brain, a mechanical voice sounded in my head. “Luck Thief detected. Scanning special ability… Ability confirmed: Thought Projection.” The voice paused, as if loading. “System adjusting based on Thief’s ability. Beep… beep… beep…” “Modification System customized. Binding in progress…” Before I could react, the voice spoke again. “Beep. Binding successful.” 2 I swallowed hard and tentatively thought, “Are you… a system? What does ‘Luck Thief’ mean? Is it Bella?” The mechanical voice replied instantly. “Yes. Detection confirms the individual near you—Bella—is a Luck Thief. A Luck Thief is someone who, after accidentally acquiring a special ability, uses it to destroy others’ destinies and steal their luck for their own benefit.” The system continued in a monotone. “These actions cause immense resentment in the victims. This System exists to sanction selfish individuals like the Luck Thief.” I nodded and asked, “So what is the Modification System? What can it do?” “The Modification System is specially customized to counter Bella’s ability. You can use this system to modify the content of Bella’s projected thoughts heard by others. Additionally, whenever Bella uses her ability, the Host will be able to hear it.” My eyes lit up. Talk about perfect timing. Thinking of the pain and humiliation of my death, and the slander that followed, my expression turned cold. A plan for revenge began to form. … I thought Bella would act quickly. But for several days, her emotions were stable, and I didn’t hear any thoughts. She hadn’t projected anything to anyone. I asked the system uncertainly, “Has Bella not used her ability lately?” After getting a confirmation, I frowned. Just then, Bella approached me with a smile, chatting about some interesting things she’d seen. If I didn’t have my memories, I would have believed we were truly close friends. I pushed her away coldly, deciding to provoke her. “Why are you always clinging to me? Don’t you have anything else to do?” “Huh?” Bella’s face stiffened for a second, then she stood there looking helpless and wronged. “Daisy, I just wanted to be good friends with you…” Her pitiful act was incredibly convincing. If not for the violent thoughts flooding my ears, I might have softened. (Little bitch, do you think I enjoy being around you? Once I steal your luck, I’ll kill you. After today, when everyone avoids you like the plague, you’ll come crawling back to me.) Catching the key information, I smirked imperceptibly. I pretended to be moved, patting her hand apologetically. “Sorry, Bella. I’ve just been really stressed lately. I didn’t mean to snap at you.” “Oh… it’s okay, Daisy. You can talk to me if you’re upset. I can comfort you.” On the surface, she was understanding. Inside, she was venomous. (Stressed? You’ll have plenty more to stress about later when I expose all your secrets.) Her eyes sparkled with concern, as if she truly wanted to help. Knowing her true nature, it was chilling. I smiled faintly and changed the subject. “Class meeting starts in half an hour. Let’s go.” I walked out first. … In the classroom, Bella chatted familiarly with everyone. With her sweet smile and easygoing nature, she made a good impression. She pulled me over and playfully joked with the class president, Sarah. “Sarah, you look so pretty today! Simply radiant.” She turned to me. “Don’t you think so, Daisy?” I smiled slightly but didn’t answer. Who doesn’t like compliments? Sarah waved her hand, smiling. “You’re cute too.” After the pleasantries, everyone settled down. The counselor went over some freshman orientation points. As the meeting was wrapping up, the crowd got a bit noisy. Bella’s inner voice rang out: (Daisy is going to work as an escort again tonight. It’s just not right for her to do that.) She sighed internally. (Ugh, so worrisome. What if the counselor finds out?) The moment Bella’s thoughts appeared, the Modification System kicked in. I sneered and rewrote the broadcast: (Ugh, it feels itchy again. Maybe I should go strip at the club tonight to scratch the itch.) 3 The noisy room fell silent instantly. Suddenly, countless eyes turned toward us, filled with bizarre and uncomfortable looks. Bella assumed those gazes were directed at me. She rested her chin on her hand, blinking innocently, and broadcasted again. (Should I tell Sarah that Daisy has a crush on her boyfriend? Sigh, both are my friends. Who should I help?) My lip twitched. She really dared to lie. I didn’t even know Sarah had a boyfriend. Well then, let Bella taste her own medicine. Silently activating the system, I modified the message everyone heard: (Sarah is such a slut. How dare she dress better than me? Oh wait, her boyfriend looks kinda hot. Maybe I should hook up with him.) Sarah’s face turned green. Recalling Bella’s earlier compliment, it now sounded like pure sarcasm. Sarah shot a hateful glare in our direction. Since Bella and I were standing together, Bella probably thought Sarah was glaring at me. Many eyes darted between us and Sarah. I leaned into Bella’s ear, feigning confusion. “Why do I feel like everyone is staring at us?” A smile threatened to break onto Bella’s face, but she quickly suppressed it. “You’re too sensitive. Don’t overthink it.” She comforted me casually. Many students lingered, sensing drama. The counselor walked over to disperse the crowd. “Why are you all gathering here? Go home if there’s nothing else.” Bella glanced at me quickly. I knew she was cooking up another bad idea. Sure enough, her inner voice sounded again. (Why is the counselor here? I definitely can’t let her know Daisy called her an old witch behind her back.) But after my editing, the broadcast became: (Why is this old hag here? She’s always looking for trouble. So annoying to look at.) Hearing this, the counselor’s face darkened. She looked around but saw no one speaking. Bella continued her internal rant. Realizing the voice belonged to Bella, the counselor’s expression turned grim. But since it was “thoughts,” she couldn’t scold her directly. The counselor glared. “Meeting adjourned. Stop loitering. Go back.” “Hmph.” Sarah led the way out, shooting a vicious look at Bella before leaving. The earlier sisterly vibe was gone. Bella still thought Sarah was mad at me and was bursting with schadenfreude. The counselor gave Bella a cold look and dropped a warning: “Stop causing trouble at school.” Bella naturally assumed the warning was meant for me. Her thoughts, now closed to the public but loud to me due to her excitement, rang clear: (Great! Everyone must have a terrible impression of Daisy now. Get ready to be the outcast.) The remaining students whispered among themselves, casting glances at us. “Let’s go,” I said calmly, walking out first. “Daisy, wait for me!” Bella put on her pitiful act and trotted after me. Unbeknownst to her, scornful gazes followed her back. I walked fast, a smile playing on my lips. Bella had no idea. Her plan had failed at step one. The morally corrupt schemer in everyone’s eyes was her. This was the first step of her karma. 4 I thought Bella’s tactics were limited to ruining my reputation. But her malice exceeded my expectations. Back in the dorm, Bella presented me with a jar of face cream like it was a treasure. I accepted it with a smile, but I had no intention of using it. I wanted to see what she was up to. Bella didn’t seem to care if I used her gift immediately. After I accepted it, she happily went to wash up. I watched her back suspiciously. I set the cream aside and reached for my own skincare products. “Beep. Harmful substances detected.” The system’s warning halted my hand. I looked at the jar Bella gave me. “Is there poison in this cream?” “Strictly speaking, aside from this cream, harmful substances have also been placed in your other skincare products. Long-term use will cause facial disfigurement.” I ground my teeth. No wonder she didn’t care if I used her gift. She knew pushing it would make me suspicious, so she tampered with my own stuff. I couldn’t swallow this anger. But if I suddenly changed all my products, she would get suspicious. Calming down, I asked the system, “Can you transfer these harmful substances into Bella’s serum?” “Affirmative.” Surprised by the system’s versatility, I watched it transfer the toxins. I waited until Bella came out of the bathroom, then applied the cream she gave me (now safe). I beamed at her. “You’re done? This cream you gave me is really good. Thanks!” A flicker of contempt passed through Bella’s eyes. She tried to hide her excitement. “I’m glad you like it.” “I really, really like it.” I scooped out a big dollop and applied it all over my face. Then, I leaned in close and playfully smeared some on Bella’s forehead. Bella’s face changed. She instinctively tried to wipe it off. I grabbed her hand, smiling innocently. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to apply some?” “It’s nothing…” She explained dryly. “I haven’t washed my face yet, so I won’t put anything on…” I didn’t expose her clumsy lie. I kept smiling brightly, as if genuinely happy about the gift. Turning around, I looked in the mirror. I saw Bella frantically wiping her forehead. She rubbed so hard her skin turned red. I sneered internally. So she knew fear. Whatever she put in there must have been potent. But there was one thing I didn’t understand. I asked the system, “With such clumsy sabotage, if something actually happened to me, wouldn’t it be easy to trace it back to her?” The system explained: “Destroying the Host’s face reduces the Host’s luck. As Bella steals all your luck, your presence will fade. Any unreasonable actions she takes will be ignored or even erased by the world’s logic.” I scoffed, my eyes cold. Too bad for her. Not in this life.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “386572”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Chapter 1 On the day the SAT results were released, Caleb Thorne’s name broke the internet. A perfect 1600. Every news outlet was scrambling to interview the valedictorian, and Twitter was in a meltdown. Caleb himself posted a screenshot of his score on Instagram, accompanied by a picture of him kissing me on the cheek. The caption read: “My girl deserves the best. @ChloeVance” The class group chat was going insane. “Holy crap, a perfect score?! Is Caleb even human?” “Help, genius + prom king + loyal boyfriend… this man is too perfect!” “Chloe must have saved the galaxy in her past life! Your man is on fire!” “Power couple alert! Locking it down!” Amidst the flood of congratulations, a message popped up that felt painfully out of place: “I envy Chloe so much. I’ll never deserve a boyfriend this amazing.” It was Grace Miller. The transfer student on financial aid. Her message silenced the chat for a few awkward seconds. Just as I was about to reply, I saw a notification. Caleb had Venmo’d Grace $999.99 with the note: “You will.” I used to think Caleb was just too kind. Like when he’d lend his umbrella to a soaked Grace on rainy days, or sneak breakfast into her locker, or send her a thousand dollars because she said she was “envious.” Then came the call from Harvard admissions. They told him that if he committed, they could offer a “partner admission” spot. He gave it to Grace. Afterward, he coaxed me with explanations: “Chloe, Grace’s family is struggling. If she doesn’t get into a top school, they’ll force her to marry some random guy back home. She needs this more than you.” “Your grades are great too. You can apply to other schools in Boston. We’ll still be together.” He thought he had everything figured out. What he didn’t know was that moments before the application portal closed, Grace had logged into my account and changed my choices to a community college thousands of miles away. My Ivy League dreams were shattered. Community college wasn’t even on my radar. Since his love was no longer pure, I decided to let go. … “Chloe, the application for the university in London is done. You can start in the fall,” my mom’s voice came through the phone. “But are you sure about studying abroad? Caleb has been attached to your hip since you were babies. Long distance isn’t easy.” I gripped my phone, a memory of Caleb’s first birthday flashing in my mind. He was barely walking, surrounded by toys for the “grab ceremony,” but he ignored them all, stumbling toward me and hugging my leg tight. Our families laughed, joking that the boy had picked his wife early. And he really did stick to me. In kindergarten, he demanded to sit next to me. In elementary school, he waited for me every day. In middle school, he studied to stay in the top class with me. In high school, he declared his territory for everyone to see. Our parents, seeing how close we were, basically arranged our engagement. Everyone knew we were a package deal. Until Grace appeared. The poor transfer student who ate plain bread for lunch and wore a faded uniform. When classmates mocked her, Caleb was the first to defend her. I never joined in the bullying; I even stood up for her sometimes. But gradually, Grace started clinging to Caleb. Walking behind him after school, bringing him breakfast, handing him water at basketball games. Then came the accident. A ceiling fan fell in the classroom, and she pushed Caleb out of the way, breaking two ribs. She was hospitalized for a month. From that moment, Caleb’s attitude toward her changed completely. His concern grew, his gaze softened, and now, he had even given her the Harvard partner spot. I couldn’t tell if it was gratitude or love. But having experienced his 100% devotion, I didn’t want this diluted version. “It won’t be long distance,” I said softly into the phone. “Mom, our paths are different now. Let’s call off the engagement.” “Are you serious?” Mom asked, surprised. “Yeah. I’ve thought it through.” Silence on the other end, then a sigh. “Alright. You’re young; you’ll meet plenty of people. Once you leave, we’ll go to the Thorne family and break it off.” “Break what off?” A clear male voice came from behind me. I turned to see Caleb standing in the entryway, the front door open behind him. He was wearing a black windbreaker, tall and lean, effortlessly handsome. Sunlight framed his silhouette. The sight of this spirited boy used to make my heart race. Now, looking at his face, I felt nothing but calm. “Nothing,” I said, hanging up the phone casually. Caleb didn’t press. He walked over, smiling, and handed me an exquisite garment bag. “Chloe, get changed. We’re going to the Teacher Appreciation Banquet.” He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I picked the best dress for you.” I took the bag. The banquet was already scheduled, and since I was leaving the country, I wouldn’t see these teachers and classmates much anymore. Consider it a final farewell. I went upstairs, changed, and came back down, only to find Grace already sitting in Caleb’s car. “Ch-Chloe…” Grace greeted timidly, twisting the hem of her skirt. What stung most was that her dress was from the same designer collection as mine, just a different color. Caleb walked over to explain. “When I was buying your dress, I realized Grace probably didn’t have anything to wear, so I grabbed one for her too.” He paused, reaching out to ruffle my hair, his tone cajoling. “Chloe, don’t overthink it.” I tilted my head, dodging his hand, and gave a self-deprecating smile. Once upon a time, girls tried every trick to get Caleb’s attention, but he only had eyes for me. He never even looked at other girls, let alone worried about whether they had a dress to wear. At the hotel, Grace played her usual role: insecure and fragile. Caleb revolved around her, serving her food, pouring her drinks, even laughing indulgently when her eyes lit up at a tasty dish. That smile pricked my heart. “Chloe! Let’s have a toast!” A few classmates surrounded me. I wasn’t a big drinker, but I didn’t want to be a killjoy. Just as I raised the glass, a large hand snatched it away. “She can’t drink. I’ll take it for her.” Caleb downed it in one gulp, his Adam’s apple bobbing, drawing cheers from the crowd. “Whoa, Caleb! Everyone wants to toast the Prom Queen. Are you gonna drink every single one?” the class president teased. “You’ll pass out!” Caleb smiled, eyes crinkling, shielding me behind him. “So what if I pass out? As long as my wife doesn’t touch a drop.” More hooting and hollering. The room was thick with the restless energy of youth. After the teachers left, things got wilder. Someone suggested Truth or Dare. Caleb lost the first few rounds. First punishment: Show his pinned contact. “Chloe” was right there at the top, followed by a red heart emoji. Second punishment: Show his photo gallery. It was full of me. My side profile sleeping on a desk, my hair flying while running on the track, my satisfied smile holding a bubble tea. Third punishment: Show his notes app. It was packed with details about me. Hates cilantro stems, loves strawberry flavor, cramps on day 1 of period, allergic to mangoes… There was even a note titled “How to handle Chloe when she’s mad: Hug first, talk later.” “That is so sweet!” The girls squealed, stomping their feet in envy. “But you guys aren’t going to the same college. Chloe is so pretty; what if someone steals her?” Caleb grinned confidently. “Who would dare? Besides, I already helped Chloe apply to a school near Harvard. She’ll be right under my nose. Right, wifey?” I forced a bitter smile. That was the plan. But now, thanks to Grace, my application was for a community college in the middle of nowhere. I glanced at Grace in the corner. Her face was pale, fingers knotted together in panic. I almost laughed. If she was so scared of getting caught, why did she do it? Just as I was about to speak, a distracted Grace lost the next round. Her punishment: Kiss the boy to her left. Unfortunately, the guy on her left was the class clown, known for… not being a looker. Grace’s eyes reddened instantly. She whispered, asking for a different punishment, but the crowd shouted her down. “Nope! Rules are rules!” Grace closed her eyes, trembling as she leaned in. Just as she was about to make contact, Caleb suddenly stood up, yanked the guy away, and kissed Grace himself. “Breathe,” he whispered. Chapter 2 The room went dead silent. I felt like an invisible hand was squeezing my heart, choking the life out of me. The kiss ended. Grace’s face was beet red. Caleb finally explained, “I just remembered, that was my seat earlier. I was on Grace’s left. Punishment complete.” The atmosphere was heavy with awkward silence. Everyone looked at me, their eyes filled with pity and secondhand embarrassment. I didn’t want to be a spectacle. The party was winding down anyway, so I stood up to leave. Walking out of the hotel, the night breeze hit my face, and I realized my cheeks were ice cold. “Chloe!” Caleb chased after me, grabbing my wrist. “I’m sorry. Are you mad?” His cautious expression made me want to laugh. “Why would I be mad?” “Just now…” he rushed to explain, sounding unusually panicked. “Grace didn’t want to kiss that guy. I was just helping her out. It was just a kiss, it doesn’t mean anything. Please don’t be mad.” “I’m not mad.” I pulled my hand back, smiling calmly. “From now on, you can kiss her however you want, for as long as you want. It has nothing to do with me.” Caleb froze, his face draining of color. “What… what does that mean?” I looked at him calmly. What else could it mean? It just meant I didn’t like him anymore. Whatever he did was no longer my concern. Just as I was about to say “let’s break up,” Grace ran out, eyes red and teary. “Chloe, I’m so sorry, it’s all my fault…” She bowed repeatedly, looking frail and pathetic in the wind, acting like I was some kind of monster. “Don’t be mad at Caleb. If you want to blame someone, blame me!” Caleb immediately supported her. “What are you doing? I already explained it to Chloe. She’s not mad.” I smiled, nodding along. “Right. I’m not mad.” Grace let out a breath, looking timid. “Th… then I’ll head out first.” Caleb grabbed her wrist. “Wait. It’s late. It’s not safe for you to go alone. I’ll drive you.” Grace’s eyes lit up, then she looked at me with feigned hesitation. “But… what about Chloe? We’re going in different directions.” “Don’t worry about her,” Caleb said naturally. “Her family driver will pick her up.” With that, he pulled Grace into his car. Before driving off, he rolled down the window. “Chloe, stay safe. Call me when you get home.” I stood there, watching his taillights disappear into the night. He forgot. My driver had a family emergency and took leave days ago. I told Caleb that. He used to remember every tiny detail about me. Now, he couldn’t even remember this. Rain started to fall. I stood at the hotel entrance, unable to get a cab. Eventually, I had to walk home in the rain. The night was dark, the road slippery. An electric scooter knocked me down halfway. My knee slammed into the pavement, blood mixing with rain. The rider fled without looking back. I limped the rest of the way. Three hours later, I finally got home. I cleaned and bandaged the wound myself. My phone lit up with a text from Caleb: [Home yet?] I didn’t reply. I turned off my phone, showered, and fell into a deep sleep. The next day, the doorbell wouldn’t stop ringing. I dragged my exhausted body to open it. Caleb stood there, looking anxious. “You’re home? Why didn’t you text back last night?” I turned and walked inside. “Got hurt. Slept early. Didn’t see it.” Caleb finally noticed the bandage on my leg. His brow furrowed. “How did that happen?” “Driver was on leave. Got hit by a scooter walking home.” Caleb froze. He remembered the driver now. Guilt washed over him. “Chloe, why didn’t you call me?” I looked up at him. “If I called, would you have come back for me?” “Of course.” “What if Grace had an issue at the same time? Would I still be your first choice?” Caleb hesitated for a second, then nodded. “Of course.” I smirked slightly and said nothing. Before, he wouldn’t have hesitated. Back then, I was his entire world. He noticed if I even frowned. Now, that single second of hesitation said everything. Caleb couldn’t tell if I was angry. Usually, I’d give him the silent treatment for days or demand to be coaxed. But now that I was still talking to him, he felt even more panicked. “Chloe, let’s go to the aquarium,” Caleb blurted out, his tone ingratiating, desperate to make amends. I shook my head. “Don’t want to.” “I already bought tickets.” He grabbed my hand, rubbing my wrist with his thumb like he used to when soothing me. “Come on. You’ve always wanted to see the orca show.” He half-coaxed, half-dragged me into the car. But when the door opened, I saw Grace in the back seat. “Chloe…” Grace greeted me timidly, twisting her skirt, looking like she was terrified of upsetting me. Caleb instinctively stepped in front of her, explaining, “I saw on her story that she wanted to go too, so I invited her.” I watched him shielding Grace and suddenly felt it was all a ridiculous joke. I said nothing and sat in the passenger seat. Chapter 3 All day, Caleb used the excuse that “Grace has never done this” to take her on every ride. He rode the carousel with her, buckled her in, and held her hand when she was scared. Tourists looked on with envy. “That couple is so sweet.” I followed behind them like a ghost, silent. The boy who once had eyes only for me was gone. Finally, we went to the orca show. The host selected random audience members for interaction. Originally, the camera landed on Caleb and me. But Grace looked at him with puppy eyes, so Caleb whispered to me, “Chloe, it’s Grace’s first time. Let her try, okay?” I didn’t speak, which he took as a yes. Caleb and Grace went up. One of the interactions was to kiss at the highest point of the orca’s jump for a photo. The host announced it, and Grace blushed. The crowd cheered. Caleb glanced at me, then didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the back of Grace’s head and kissed her. “Wow!” The crowd erupted. Sitting in the stands, I felt like an invisible hand was crushing my heart. If the first kiss was to save her from embarrassment, what was this one? After the show, Caleb tried to explain, but I cut him off. “I know. You didn’t want to waste everyone’s time.” Caleb froze, a wave of panic hitting him. At dusk, we went to the central stairs to watch the fireworks. Caleb wanted to use the fireworks—my favorite—to make it up to me. But an accident happened. A nearby firework launcher exploded, spraying sparks everywhere! Chaos erupted. In the shoving, I stumbled and was about to fall down the stairs! Caleb instinctively reached for me, but behind him, Grace screamed in terror. “Caleb! Help me!” He looked back once, then turned and ran to Grace without hesitation! I watched his retreating back as my heart tore in two. I tumbled down the stairs, trampled by the panicking crowd. A kind stranger helped me up. When Caleb returned, shielding Grace, I was covered in bruises and scrapes. “Chloe!” Caleb looked distressed, reaching to hug me. I dodged his hand. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “I’m fine. Take Grace home.” How could he be at ease? He told Grace to take a cab and insisted on taking me to the hospital. The doctor said I might have a concussion and needed observation. Caleb stayed by my side, refusing to leave. But as soon as I was admitted, Grace called. “Caleb… the power went out at my place… I’m scared…” Caleb frowned, looking at me hesitantly. I spoke calmly. “Go.” “Chloe, I…” “I’m fine. The nurse is here.” Caleb stood up. “I’ll be back soon.” He rushed out. Watching his back, I suddenly called out, “Caleb.” He turned. “Yeah?” I looked at him, remembering a long time ago. He was at a competition out of town. He heard my raspy voice on the phone, realized I had a fever, and forfeited the competition to fly back that night just to watch over me. Now, he was leaving me, injured, for another girl. For a second, I wanted to ask, “Do you still love me?” But the words felt meaningless. “Nothing. Go.” Whether he loved me or not, I didn’t care anymore. I was letting him go completely. Chapter 4 I stayed in the hospital for three days. During those three days, I saw seventeen posts from Grace. [Caleb took me for hot pot! (Photo: Caleb’s hand putting beef in her bowl)] [First time bungee jumping, so nervous~ (Photo: Caleb watching her tenderly, looking just like he used to look at me)] [Caleb says he’ll take good care of me since I have a cold (Photo: Caleb sitting by a bed, stirring porridge)] I scrolled past calmly. Maybe after hurting so many times, the heart just goes numb. The day I was discharged, I went to my usual high-end spa for a treatment. As I pushed the glass door open, a familiar voice called out, “Chloe?” Caleb stood at the front desk with a fidgety Grace. He looked flustered. “You’re out? Does it still hurt?” “I’m fine,” I said flatly, looking at Grace. Caleb sighed in relief and explained, “Grace has never been to a spa, so I brought her to try it out.” He paused. “Since you’re here, and I don’t know anything about this stuff, can you show her the ropes?” I didn’t want to make a scene in public, so I nodded. We went into a treatment room. The esthetician brought out my custom skincare set and started my facial. Grace watched enviously. “This stuff must be expensive. It’s nice being a rich girl. Unlike me, I’ve only ever used water to wash my face…” Caleb frowned. “Don’t be envious. I’ll buy it for you.” Grace waved her hands. “No, no, I don’t deserve such nice things…” “Nonsense,” Caleb said firmly. “You deserve the best.” I closed my eyes. “Give them another room,” I told the esthetician. “I want some quiet.” Caleb blinked. “I’ll pay for these products…” “No need. I’ll tell them to get her a set just like mine,” I said wearily. Finally, they left. After the treatment, I changed and went straight home without waiting for them. As soon as I got home, the door slammed open. “Chloe!” Caleb stormed in, face cold, grabbing my wrist. “What was in those products? Why is Grace’s face having an allergic reaction?!” His grip hurt. I was confused. “What?” “I told you I’m only taking care of her because she saved me!” Caleb suppressed his rage. “The person I love is you. If you have a problem, come at me. Why hurt her?” I looked at him in disbelief. “I didn’t hurt her. We used the same products. Why am I fine?” “That spa is owned by your family!” Caleb sneered. “It would take one word from you to tamper with her stuff.” My heart trembled violently. Is that the kind of person he thinks I am? I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Caleb took my silence for guilt and dragged me out. “What are you doing?!” I struggled. He didn’t speak, speeding until we reached Grace’s hospital room. Grace lay there, face covered in ointment, looking pitiful. “Apologize,” Caleb ordered. I looked at my red wrist, eyes stinging. Before, he’d be heartbroken if I lost a single hair. Now he treated me like this? “I did nothing wrong. I won’t apologize.” Grace quickly tried to smooth things over. “If Chloe doesn’t want to apologize, it’s fine… I’ll just be here for a few days…” Caleb got angrier. “Look at Grace, then look at yourself! How can you bully her over and over?” His gaze landed on my necklace. “Since you won’t apologize, give her that necklace as compensation.” I froze, touching the pendant. “…Do you remember what this is?” It was a token he gave me, promising to be “locked” to me forever. Now he wanted me to take it off and give it to her? Caleb had forgotten. “It’s just a necklace. I’ll buy you a better one.” “Grace is being generous not asking for an apology. You won’t even give up a gift?” I took a deep breath, ripped the necklace off, and threw it at Grace. “Take it.” Caleb, I’m giving you away too. I turned and left, never looking back.

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1 When my little brother was born, my father’s business finally started taking off. I thought my days of suffering were over, but my biological mother declared me a curse. She said we were poor because of me, and my brother was the family’s lucky star. If they didn’t get rid of me, I’d drag the whole family down. So, I was sold to my aunt and uncle. Years later, I got into Stanford, and my aunt and uncle were rolling in money. My biological parents, meanwhile, were struggling to put food on the table. They clung to our doorstep, refusing to leave. They cried, begging me to come back: “You still have our blood running through your veins!” When I was five, my brother was born, and my mother decided to sell me overnight to the old man in the next village. I knelt on the floor, begging her not to send me away. I kowtowed until my forehead bled, sobbing uncontrollably. That old man was bad news. He was old, unmarried, and often wandered the village without clothes. Every kid in the village was terrified of him. Everyone said he was crazy. After my brother was born, Dad’s business boomed. Overnight, it seemed like money was no longer an issue. They quickly bought a huge house in the city and a luxury car. Just before we were supposed to move, Mom said I was bad luck. If I stepped foot in the new house, their good fortune wouldn’t last. The old man from the next village offered a hundred dollars for me. My parents didn’t hesitate. It was like they couldn’t even hear me crying. That day, with blood trickling down my forehead, my parents were about to sign the contract the old man handed them. Catching the malicious glint in the old man’s eyes, I felt dead inside. I was young, but I knew: once they signed, I belonged to him. A terrifying unknown loomed over me… My parents selling their daughter right after getting rich caused a huge stir. My uncle pedaled his beat-up bicycle through the night to stop the sale. “Are you sure about this? She’s a curse! Don’t say I didn’t warn you when things go south!” My mother pointed at me on the ground, her face twisted in disgust. My father looked at my uncle like he was an idiot. They couldn’t believe anyone would fight over a jinx like me. My uncle took out a handkerchief and pressed it to my bleeding forehead. “I don’t have a daughter anyway. Since you don’t want her, I’ll raise her.” My tears burst forth again. Thank god. I didn’t have to go with the old man. My uncle took out a hundred and twenty dollars and handed it to my father. “Let’s sign the papers. From now on, this girl is my daughter.” “I’m offering twenty more. You gonna fight me for her?” My uncle glared coldly at the old man. The old man looked unhappy, like a tasty meal had been snatched from his jaws. But he didn’t raise his bid. My parents agreed instantly. Selling me was selling me, right? Plus, Uncle offered more. As long as I was out of their house, they didn’t care. After signing and fingerprinting the papers, with the village chief as a witness, the deal was done. My mother got into a sedan, holding my brother, and my father drove away without a single backward glance. I threw myself into my uncle’s arms, sobbing my heart out. “Uncle, Mom and Dad don’t want me anymore.” His large hand stroked my head gently, his voice warm and comforting. “Sweetheart, even though I bought you for a hundred and twenty bucks, you have to remember—you are priceless.” “You are Uncle’s priceless treasure.” “Be my daughter, and I’ll spoil you rotten.” Just like that, clutching my patched-up clothes, I moved in with my uncle’s family. 2 My uncle lived in a remote area. He pedaled a long way with me on the back of his bike. Just when I thought we were almost there, he took a detour to buy a pound of pork. “Sweetheart, before we go home, let’s change your name.” My last name was Liu. My parents had always wanted a son. When I was born, they went to a fortune teller. The fortune teller said they were destined to have a son, but they couldn’t be too good to me. Even my name had to pave the way for my brother. He suggested names like “Beckoning Brother” or “Hoping for Brother.” But my mother didn’t hesitate. She named me “Cheap Girl.” Yes, my name was Liu Jiannü—Liu Cheap Girl. I was young, but I knew it was an ugly name. The village kids wouldn’t play with me because of it. They’d circle around me, throwing stones and shouting my name, laughing. Until my parents abandoned me, my name was the village joke. No one thought it was wrong. It seemed I was born with a cheap fate. A cheap girl in the family. But now, my uncle touched my head with pity, his eyes rimmed with red. “Let’s go. Uncle will find someone to give you a new name, okay?” “Our girl is so pretty; she needs the prettiest name!” Uncle went to the village chief. He named me “Joy.” Meaning eloquent and full of happiness. “Joy… Lin Joy… Nice, very nice!” Uncle muttered, holding my hand. “Do you like your new name, sweetheart?” Uncle picked me up and carried me home. I finally smiled. I was too scared to show it fully, so I buried my face in his broad back and grinned secretly. My smile grew wider and wider. I finally had a beautiful name. I wanted to run back to the village and brag. Let those people who looked down on my name hear this! But starting today, I didn’t belong there anymore. I had someone protecting me now. When Uncle brought me home, my aunt and cousin were there. They only had one son at the time. He was four years older than me. Uncle held my hand and, meeting Aunt’s confused gaze, cheerfully explained, “Didn’t you always want a daughter?” “Here she is. Her name is Lin Joy. From now on, she’s our daughter. She lives here.” Aunt’s face, which had been relatively kind, fell instantly. She didn’t say a word and went straight to her room. My cousin was at that mischievous age. Seeing me, he threw a tantrum at Uncle. “She’s not my sister! She’s Auntie’s kid! She’s not my sister!” Uncle tweaked his ear. “Behave! She is your sister. Her last name is Lin now. She’s family!” Cousin ran crying to his mom. Uncle was handy. He set up a small cot for me next to my cousin’s bed. Considering I was a girl, he hung a curtain around it for privacy. “Joy, make do with sharing a room with your brother for now, okay?” “When Uncle makes big money, I’ll get you the biggest, prettiest room.” I nodded obediently. “Bragging again? Don’t you know how poor we are?” Aunt’s voice drifted from the other room. Uncle and I looked at each other and giggled. He lowered his voice. “Joy, ignore your aunt. She’s all bark and no bite.” I knew. Uncle and Aunt were my saviors. I silently vowed to be good to them. Compared to my birth family’s sudden wealth, Uncle’s family was truly poor. And Uncle had spent a huge chunk of their hard-earned savings on me. 3 “Why did you bring her back? You spent almost all our savings!” “I’m asking you! What about our son’s tuition?” “Are we all going to starve?” Uncle and Aunt’s room was right next door. Because of the new environment, I couldn’t sleep. The walls were thin, and I heard them arguing. Did I really cost Uncle all his savings? I clenched my fists, afraid to breathe. I was terrified Aunt would send me away. I didn’t want to go to the old man in the next village. But Uncle cheerfully comforted her. “But I treat Joy like my own daughter.” “Didn’t we agree before we got married that we wanted a son and a daughter? Look, fate brought her to us!” I heard Aunt retort, “Don’t give me that nonsense.” “I wanted a daughter, yes, but look at our situation.” “And your sister and brother-in-law… you know what they’re like!” “What if we raise her and they come back for her?” Uncle lowered his voice. “Keep it down, don’t wake the kids.” “We have a son and a daughter now. No matter how hard it gets, as long as the four of us stick together, things will get better.” My heart finally settled. A long time later, the door opened. Uncle came in, tucked me in, and kissed the top of my head. “Enough already. I don’t see you being this attentive to your son,” Aunt muttered from the doorway. Uncle whispered as he locked the door, “I just adore my daughter.” That night, my pillow was soaked with tears. When I woke up, my cousin was startled by the dark circles under my eyes. He screamed that I was a ghost. Aunt twisted his ear impatiently. “Why are you yelling all day? Go serve your sister some porridge!” I looked up at Aunt, a feeling of acceptance spreading in my heart. Unlike Uncle’s gentleness, Aunt had a fiery temper. She was strict with both me and my cousin. I knew it was because she treated me like her own child. Her “tough love” parenting style was fully displayed. For example, sticking chopsticks vertically into my rice bowl got my hand smacked. She said it was rude and showed a lack of breeding. My cousin went through a phase of swearing, and Aunt beat him until he learned his lesson. After that, he’d only recite ancient poetry around us. Crossing legs, slouching—we both got our fair share of beatings for bad posture. Uncle watched with heartache. He’d sneak me lollipops and comfort me. He said Aunt just didn’t want us to pick up bad habits. She wanted us to be upright people. Not to develop bad habits just because we were poor. Not to be looked down upon by anyone. Poverty is not an excuse for depravity. Some bad habits, once formed, follow you for life. 4 Uncle sold steamed buns. He and Aunt got up at 3 or 4 AM to make them. Then Uncle would transport them to town. Having his own shop was Uncle’s lifelong dream. After selling buns in the morning, he worked construction. Aunt helped out at home. My cousin and I often helped plant peanuts and beans after school. During harvest, we got up early to work in the fields. At dawn, we’d run home to eat breakfast and sprint to school. Even though we were poor, Uncle and Aunt decided to send me to school. I didn’t disappoint them; I was always top of my class. One day after school, Aunt was sitting in the living room with a dark face. “Why did you fight a classmate?” She held a feather duster, clearly angry. “The teacher said you shoved a student’s head into the toilet!” “Lin Joy! We send you to school, and this is how you repay us?” “What’s the reason!” I pursed my lips and refused to say a word. Aunt rolled up my pant leg and whacked me with the feather duster. Until Uncle came back and shielded me. They had a big argument. Uncle said she shouldn’t hit the child. Aunt yelled at him, “Then you teach her! You brought her back!” That day, I buried my head in the doorframe, remembering my birth mother’s words. She said I was a jinx, a curse… Maybe I was. During lunch, my cousin came home and went out again. Uncle and Aunt were giving each other the silent treatment. After lunch, Uncle applied ointment to my legs. “Joy, does it hurt?” He blew gently on my legs. I shook my head. After applying the medicine, he pulled me into his arms. “Our Joy has always been sensible.” “There must be a reason for the fight, right?” “Tell Uncle, okay?” I still stayed silent. Later, my cousin ran back, out of breath. He shoved a lollipop into my hand and called Uncle and Aunt out. “You dummy! Why didn’t you say anything when you were bullied? Am I invisible?” Cousin explained what happened. I fought because someone crossed the line. Classmates found out I wasn’t Uncle and Aunt’s biological child. So they spread rumors that I was a jinx, a disaster. That my birth parents sold me because of it. Hearing this, I was calm. Because it was true. My birth parents didn’t want me. But I didn’t feel unlucky. On the contrary, I was lucky. I met Uncle and Aunt. I came to a loving home. But the classmates went too far. They started cursing my Uncle and Aunt. Saying my Uncle’s family would die horrible deaths for adopting a jinx like me. Uncle and Aunt taught us to be tolerant. But that day, I couldn’t take it anymore. Uncle, Aunt, and Cousin were good people. I wouldn’t let these scumbags insult them! When they provoked me again and again, I taught them a lesson. I poured toilet water into their mouths and shoved their heads into the sink. Since their mouths were dirty, I thought I’d clean them. In that moment, I even wanted to end it all with them. The commotion in the bathroom attracted attention, and someone called the teacher. The teacher looked at me with a complicated expression and told me to call my parents.

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1 My husband called a strange number 21 times this week. I stormed into the bathroom, ready for a confrontation. He was standing there with a head full of shampoo, looking exasperated. “If you think I’m cheating, call the number yourself! Call whoever you want!” The door slammed shut. I was sure he was bluffing. But when I dialed, it connected almost instantly. A sweet female voice answered. “Thank you for calling The Orchid House. How can I help you?” The Orchid House was my favorite restaurant. Awkwardly, I hung up. Later, when I went there for dinner, I specifically mentioned it to the manager. “The girl who answers your phone is very professional. Here’s a tip for her.” The manager looked confused. “Ma’am, we don’t have a receptionist. Our calls are handled by an AI system now. It’s the trend.” I pretended I had misremembered and calmly finished my meal. That night, I checked my husband’s dashcam footage. Sure enough, I found the address of a property registered under my mother-in-law’s name. When I knocked on the door, a woman answered wearing nothing but a silk slip. … The woman in front of me looked five or six years younger than me, radiating that specific confidence of youth. She showed off her body shamelessly, not a hint of awkwardness on her face. Water droplets from her wet hair traced a path down her collarbone, disappearing into her neckline. She seemed surprised to see me, clearly expecting someone else. Then I heard that familiar, sweet voice. “You must be Mark’s wife? I’m his distant cousin, Sarah. I’m staying here while I study for grad school.” I stared at her coldly. Mark had really prepared everything, even the script. I wondered how many times they had rehearsed this. It was flawless. If not for that phone call, even finding this place wouldn’t have made me suspicious. Realizing this, my heart sank. “And you are?” I looked her up and down, unimpressed. “Oh right, I forgot to introduce myself.” “I’m Sarah Miller.” She extended a hand. I let out a scoff. “Awfully friendly, aren’t you?” I ignored her hand and walked past her into the apartment. As we brushed shoulders, I noticed a tattoo on her upper arm. SJ 7.17 My pupils contracted. A weird sixth sense kicked in. I knew she was silently marking her territory. I stared at the stylized font. She noticed my gaze, of course. She explained casually. “SJ stands for the band I was in during college. That’s the date we formed.” She pointed at the date. “I was young and impulsive. Thought it was the most important day of my life, so I got it inked.” Her tone was light, but she was watching me from the corner of her eye. I read the message in her gaze loud and clear. That date was her anniversary with Mark. Had they been together since college? Four years of marriage, and I hadn’t noticed a thing. My gaze turned icy as I scanned the room. It was lived-in. No TV in the living room, just a massive projector screen. A home theater setup. No sofa, just a Japanese-style tatami mat. Next to it was an expensive massage chair. I could almost see the countless passionate nights they had spent here. Just as I was about to head for the bedroom, the front door opened again. It was Mark. He got here fast. I stood in the doorway, a smirk playing on my lips, watching him run in, tie askew—so unlike his usual polished self. “What are you doing here?” He went on the offensive immediately. “Susan, are you investigating me?” His brow furrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. He was clearly unhappy. In the past, I would have dropped everything to soothe him. Now, I just pointed at the bedroom. “Care to explain?” He frowned, walking up to me. Conveniently blocking my view of Sarah. “What’s there to explain? She’s my cousin. My mom asked me to look out for her. Is that a crime?” I didn’t say anything. He let out a frustrated laugh. He pulled out his phone and called his mother right there. “Mom, Susan thinks I’m cheating. Can you explain Sarah to her? She won’t believe a word I say.” He shoved the phone into my hands while I stared in shock. “Susan, honey? Sarah is your distant aunt’s kid. I told Mark to look after her. He’s been so busy he probably forgot to mention it. I’m sorry, dear.” On the phone, my mother-in-law’s voice was warm and forgiving. Like she was indulging a paranoid child. “Susan, come over for dinner when you’re free, okay? I have a bridge game starting, gotta run.” After she hung up, the shock lingered. Mark looked at me smugly. “Believe me now? Stop making a scene. You’re embarrassing yourself in front of Sarah.” Sarah stood beside him with an understanding smile. “Mark, don’t be mean. It just shows how much Susan cares about you.” “Right, Susan?” I silently followed Mark downstairs. He turned to me. “I have a meeting. We’ll talk about this at home.” He acted like he was still angry about my ‘unreasonable’ behavior. His steps were heavy, but he left quickly. Watching his car drive away, I lowered my eyes. After a moment, I called my best friend. “I need you to run a background check on someone.” 2 Before dinner time, my friend sent over the file. Sarah graduated from a different university than Mark. Their lives had zero intersection. It looked like she really was just a distant cousin. I frowned deeply. After a moment, I texted my friend again. [Run a check on my mother-in-law. Last three years. Large transactions, spending records, bank statements, property transfers. Everything.] She replied instantly. [Are you crazy? You treat that woman like your own mother.] [Why investigate her?] of all people? I didn’t reply. The screen went dark, and I stared out the window. Maybe because I loved Mark, I loved his family too. He was from a single-parent home. I always respected how hard his mother worked to raise him. Since our wedding day, I treated her like my own flesh and blood. Whenever Mark and I fought, she always stood by my side. If even that was a lie… what was real? Thirty minutes later. My friend called. “Holy shit. That bastard is cheating. How did you know?” “Mark has been playing you for years? I sent everything. See for yourself.” I opened his mother’s bank statements. Starting three years ago. Mark transferred ten thousand dollars to one of her cards almost every month. But the spending wasn’t typical for an older woman. Designer clothes, jewelry, bags, collectibles. And daily expenses. The most frequent transactions were at a Japanese boutique. Almost a fixed weekly expense. I scrolled up to the account opening date. July 17th. I understood. That was the day they got together. Then I opened the second file. Transactions from his mother’s main card. The apartment they were using now. A massage chair worth thousands. A sports car imported from overseas. And all of these… Had clear gift deeds signed. I laughed, but my face felt frozen. What was Mark thinking when he prepared all this? Was he already planning his excuses in case I found out? What kind of heart does it take to do something like this? The last document was the final straw that broke me. An investment in a fashion brand, made in his mother’s name. Under “Shareholder and Founder,” it read: Sarah Miller. I don’t remember how I drove home. When I came to, I was in the underground garage. My phone buzzed with notifications. Speeding tickets. Red light violations. I buried my face in my hands, leaning on the steering wheel. I couldn’t calm down. My phone rang suddenly in the quiet space. It was jarring. I answered, exhausted. “Susan, where are you? Why am I getting speeding alerts? Are you okay?” Mark sounded urgent, worried. “I had to deliver a file. In a rush.” I made up an excuse. He sounded angry now. “Are you trying to get yourself killed? Pull over. I’m coming to get you.” I heard the rustle of clothes as he got dressed. “No need. I’m in the garage.” Silence. Mark let out a breath. “Come upstairs then.” When the elevator opened, I saw Mark in his loungewear, a jacket thrown over his shoulders. His eyes were full of concern. He nagged me about my driving skills, complaining that I shouldn’t be speeding. Looking at the man in front of me. He cared about my safety. While pouring his heart and soul into another woman. 3 That night, after Mark fell asleep. I contacted a new lawyer. I asked him to audit my assets and sent him the files I had. “Handle it all together.” I woke up to find Mark had made breakfast—a rare occurrence. “I’m meeting a client in Bayview today. It’s on your way, can you drop me off?” I looked at him quietly for a moment, then nodded. It wasn’t time to explode yet. I needed more evidence. On the way, my phone kept ringing. Before I could answer, Mark grabbed it and hung up. “You have a man on the side or something?” Hearing him project his guilt onto me, I sneered internally. In the end, he made a scene and didn’t let me answer. When I got to the office, my assistant was waiting in the lobby. Seeing me rush in, she hesitated before asking cautiously. “Boss, have you been in contact with a studio called SJ recently?” Hearing the name, my breath hitched. My throat felt dry. A bad feeling washed over me. “No. Why?” She handed me a tablet. Dozens of design sketches. My heart stopped. I looked at the familiar elements, anger rising in my chest. I walked quickly to my office. “Tell me everything.” It turned out this SJ Studio had released a batch of concept art and registered the copyrights. And the design elements were almost identical to my company’s upcoming flagship collection. The problem was, to keep the suspense, we hadn’t released our designs publicly. Production had already started. We had signed the celebrity endorsements. This meant if consumers thought we were copying SJ, the company would suffer massive losses. Even worse, we would offend our partners. Chills ran down my spine. The first person I thought of was Mark. I never imagined that to pave the way for Sarah, he would sacrifice the company I built with my own hands. Before I could come up with a plan, another assistant burst in. “Susan, the plagiarist is on TV!” I sat up straight and took the phone. Sarah Miller appeared on a popular finance show. She was dressed cleanly, simply, like the girl next door. Facing the host’s tricky questions, she was confident and calm. Very impressive. When asked why she named the studio SJ, she lifted her sleeve, revealing the tattoo. “To thank someone very important to me. I wanted his name not just in my heart, but on my body, in my life.” “He is everywhere.” The host looked envious. “That must be your lover? Can you tell us your story?” She shook her head shyly. “I promised him I wouldn’t mention him publicly without his permission.” Comments floated across the screen. [Can’t mention him? Why? Is he married?] [Holy crap, that might be it. If they’re so in love, why the secrecy?] [Maybe they just like privacy. Don’t be jealous.] The comments section turned into a war zone. I stared at the screen, lost in thought. The host asked another question. “So what inspired the ‘Fleeting Orchid’ series? Why that name?” Sarah froze for a second. The host continued. “Is it because you met him when the orchids were blooming? Does he like orchids?” Sarah clearly didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know why the host brought up orchids. But she thought fast. She winked at the camera with a mysterious smile. She said nothing. I stared at the screen and whispered the answer. “Beauty fades as the best times pass; the orchid season does not wait.” That was the poem that inspired my collection. I never thought it would become a prophecy for my marriage. 4 After the interview, Sarah became famous. After all, she was riding on the six months of hard work from my entire design team. She ignited the fashion industry. SJ Studio went from unknown to flooded with collaboration offers in a month. Meanwhile, four of my senior designers resigned. My company was in a slump. In just one month, the media hailed Sarah as a genius designer. Mark, on the other hand, was having “issues.” First, an investment failed, and he urgently needed to fill the hole. He asked to transfer three hundred thousand from our joint account. I looked at him impassively. And nodded. Soon after, my lawyer sent me the evidence. Watching the money trail, I continued to bait the hook. After that, his courage seemed to grow. Using a subsidiary we co-owned, he launched a “charity project.” He approved a five hundred thousand dollar R&D loan for Sarah. The paperwork looked legit—reviews, signatures, everything. Outsiders wouldn’t spot a flaw. I smiled at the documents in my hand. This money would allow Sarah to officially turn her studio into a company. Sure enough, SJ Corp was founded. They started hiring aggressively. Office supplies, computers—they bought the best. Meanwhile, I was in crisis. Employees resigned from my company today and received offers from SJ tomorrow. With double the salary. It seemed Sarah wanted to destroy me. Mark, who hadn’t been home in a week, suddenly appeared. “Susan, I have to go out of town. Something came up at the branch office.” I smirked internally. “How much do you need?” Mark waved his hands. “I heard things aren’t going well for you. Are you… holding up okay?” His undisguised probing hardened my heart further. Mark, let’s see who laughs last in this game. I put on a weary face. Acting like my usual self, I said: “It’s okay. Don’t worry about me. Take what you need. I’m not broke yet.” That sentence dispelled his doubts completely. He kissed my cheek. “Wife, I knew you were the most gentle and understanding woman in the world.” That night, I claimed I had work in the study, but really I scrubbed my face twenty times in the guest bathroom. The next day, Mark left with his luggage. Looking solemn, like he was off to solve a crisis. Instead, he parked at the airport and took a cab back to the city. Soon after, my friend texted me. [Holy shit. Saw your husband at a hotel. That super expensive love hotel!] [So gross!] [When are you going to make your move?] I replied: [Hold on.] Two days later, I got the alert. Mark injected one million dollars into SJ. Ha. A total of one point seven million dollars. He built Sarah a production line complete with logistics. Mark really was generous. Maybe success had gone to his head, or he thought his plan was flawless. He didn’t even bother hiding the money trail this time. And this was exactly the moment I had been waiting for. I met my lawyer in a private tea house. My mother-in-law’s bank statements and gift records. Copies of the doctored documents. The chat logs they thought were deleted forever. Everything was laid out on the table. The lawyer looked serious. “This proves not only malicious transfer of marital assets but also embezzlement.” I nodded calmly, packing up the evidence. Waiting for them to climb to their highest peak. On the day of the grand opening. Sarah was surrounded by admirers. Compliments flew left and right. “Ms. Miller is so young and talented!” “SJ Studio is definitely the next big thing!” “Mr. York has an amazing eye for investment!” Mark stood nearby, looking proud, as if her glory was his own. They were the stars of the show. This was the glory Mark bought with my designs and our money. The emcee’s voice boomed, hyping up the ribbon-cutting ceremony. “Ladies and gentlemen, the moment we’ve all been waiting for! Please welcome the founder of SJ Studio, Ms. Sarah Miller—” “And her investor, Mr. Mark York, to the stage!” Thunderous applause almost lifted the roof. That was when I pushed open the doors.

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