Author: Momo Chan

When I caught Julian with his mistress, after his car was rear-ended, he just leaned out the window and smiled at the paparazzi. “Got a scandal on your hands? Make sure you find my wife. She *loves* dealing with this kind of news.” Whenever my name, Mrs. Thorne, came up, everyone in the social circle would say the same thing, almost in unison: “She was a nobody who snagged a rich husband. She’d never dare to leave.” No one remembered that when Julian married me, he’d graciously introduced me, almost as if he was doing them a favor: “This is my wife. She’s young, so please be patient with her.” Everyone assumed I’d throw money at the paparazzi, just like I always did. They thought I’d smooth over the gossip, and keep up the facade of a loving power couple with Julian. But this time, I simply walked into Grandfather Thorne’s study. “It’s been three years. You should let me go.” There’s an unwritten rule among Hong Kong’s tabloids. If a entertainment reporter’s monthly performance isn’t up to par, they just need to stake out Julian Thorne, CEO of Concord Group. He cycles through a new lover every month, flaunting them openly, making it effortless to snap a picture. Men will be men, a little scandal is normal. But his wife, she has to maintain appearances, uphold her reputation. If you capture his latest affair, just take the evidence to her and name your price. She’ll pay for it all. However, old habits sometimes meet new circumstances. When a rookie paparazzo from the Daily Scoop brought a video to Julian, only to be sent to me, I had just arrived home from the office. My villa sat atop Victoria Peak, offering a panoramic view of the entire Victoria Harbour skyline. The voice on my phone continued, unskilled yet surprisingly shrewd, asking for an outrageous amount. “Mrs. Thorne, it’s just two million. That’s like, what you pay for a handbag, right? Just two million to buy off your husband’s scandal. Such a bargain! If you’ve decided, just call this number…” This paparazzo wasn’t very bright. His first time tailing Julian, and the second time he was brazen enough to knock on Julian’s car window. Julian’s cars were hard to identify; he changed them frequently, with hundreds in his garage. Yet, for those few days, he kept driving the same one. In the video the paparazzo sent me, Julian lowered his window. In the passenger seat sat a woman dressed provocatively. Last month, when I received photos, that seat was occupied by a rising starlet from mainland China. Julian took off his sunglasses, revealing an almost flawless face to the camera. He crooked a finger at the paparazzo. As the man approached, Julian’s voice was languid, coaxing him gently, “Newbie? So clueless. After you take the pictures, you go to my wife. I won’t give you a dime.” “Don’t have my wife’s contact information?” He pulled out a piece of paper, scribbled a few numbers, and casually tossed it into the paparazzo’s arms. Then, he glanced at the woman beside him and clicked his tongue, “Get out.” She leaned in, whining, “Mr. Thorne, didn’t you say three days? It’s only been a few hours…” Julian tossed a card at her, then pressed the unlock button. “You got caught in just a few hours. Get out, or do you want me to physically kick you out? Scram.” I turned off the video, my face calm, and sat at the dining table. The maid had meticulously laid out dinner, dish after dish. The clock in the grand hall chimed eight times.

I looked up at the clock, a gift Julian had brought me from France seven years ago, now swaying listlessly, looking worn. I applied to Hong Kong University at seventeen and met Julian when I was eighteen. Back then, he was understated, except for his perfectly sculpted face. He knew everything, but he’d pretend to be clumsy, saying he’d forgotten it all and needed me to teach him. After just half a month, people who knew him whispered to me, “You think he’s just a pretty face? He’s the heir to Concord Group, and his dad’s running for office.” Later, Julian left campus. He wouldn’t listen to reason, driving back and forth between Hong Kong University and Central every day. For those few years, we argued occasionally, but loved each other constantly. My heart would close, then open, then close again. At twenty-five, after countless obstacles, I married Julian. That wedding for the ages is still documented in old newspapers. One small tabloid, desperate for attention, ran a headline that overshadowed all the major papers. It was sensational, but completely disrespectful. Julian saw the paper the morning after our wedding. After reading it, he silently placed his water glass on top of the paper. I later learned that sensational paper turned out to be the last one that tabloid ever published. Looking back, piece by piece, I realized how deeply Julian and I had once been in love. But how did it all come to this, like that old clock, its swing utterly lifeless? In the quiet of the grand hall, the elevator’s digital display flickered, stopping at the third floor just as the doors slid open. Julian emerged, his suit jacket casually draped over his arm. Even the harsh overhead light in the elevator couldn’t diminish the sharp angles of his face. I glanced at him, then looked away, refocusing on the dishes before me. A minute later, I heard the soft thud of his jacket being tossed onto the sofa. Immediately, a hint of oud and the warmth of his body enveloped me. Julian stood behind me, hands braced on the table, as if he was about to pull me into an embrace. His voice was nonchalant, “Good evening, Mrs. Thorne. Let’s see, how much is this latest news worth?” My phone lay on the table. He tapped a few times, navigating to my messages. “Two million? Journalists’ appetites these days are smaller than your dinner bill. Anyone would think my net worth has depreciated.” I put down my forks, sitting up straight, maintaining a half-fist’s distance from his chest. Instead of answering, I changed the subject. “I won’t approve Anastasia’s direct placement as Head of Public Relations. Her application will be rejected.” Sure enough, at the mention of that name, Julian straightened up, the encompassing presence instantly vanishing. He sat opposite me, hands resting on the back of his chair, his gaze drifting to the beautiful night outside the window. “Her matters don’t concern you.” “Or perhaps…” Julian’s gaze shifted back, propping his chin, he looked at me, “You just don’t like her?” I looked straight into his eyes, searching for something, but found nothing. Outsiders only saw that Julian’s parade of lovers never stopped these past two years. No one knew he was actually using them as a smokescreen for Anastasia. Two years ago, Julian sent her abroad for a ‘gold-plating’ education, intending for her to be directly placed in the company upon her return. It wasn’t that I disliked her; I was simply being practical. Concord Group’s hiring criteria are incredibly strict. A candidate’s primary degree must be from a QS Top 30 university, otherwise, they’re not even considered. Anastasia only has a high school diploma. She worked at a department store at eighteen. The ‘gold-plating’ school was a diploma mill. There’s no way to justify her hiring, even if we were trying to make an exception for talent. My voice was faint. “I’m speaking about company business, not personal feelings.” Julian didn’t reply. After a moment, I heard a voice message from his phone. A voice, syrupy sweet and undeniably seductive: “Mr. Thorne, my little undies are still in your car. When would be a good time for me to pick them up?” The phone’s speaker seemed intentionally loud, the words echoed mockingly in my ears. Julian looked at me, raising the phone to his lips, his voice lazy, “Wrong number, miss.” I gazed at his indifferent expression, trying to recall how he used to love me.

In the beginning, Julian would still confess and apologize. The gift he sent Anastasia was incredibly valuable, and it inadvertently took the spot I’d originally reserved. The circle of the wealthy is too small; a single clue can unravel a massive scandal. Julian rushed home, handing over all his phone, bank cards, and a dozen other account passwords. “She helped me with a small favor. Alex picked out the gift. I’ll give him hell for it later.” He only offered a brief explanation, and I believed him. There was no reason not to. But that day, Anastasia, somehow learning about the big fight Julian and I had, appeared. On a rainy day, she knelt dramatically at the villa’s entrance: “Mrs. Thorne, there’s truly nothing between Mr. Thorne and me. You must believe us.” It was so clearly an attempt to cover up something, it just screamed ‘guilty!’ Anger burned away all rationality, so I didn’t see the flicker of pity in Julian’s eyes as he looked down from the floor-to-ceiling window that day. A man feeling pity for a woman might be the start of a romance for two, but for three, it’s a dangerous game. But none of that truly mattered; the hardest days were long behind me. If I remembered correctly, today was November 27th, leaving only a few days until my three-year term with Grandfather Thorne expired. I looked at Julian, about to speak. He suddenly received a call. The voice from the other end faintly leaked out. It was Anastasia’s voice: “The electricity in my house is out. It’s pitch black, and I’m a little scared.” “Wait there, I’m coming.” Julian stood up, glanced at me, and I swallowed the words on my tongue. Since I didn’t speak, he walked out without a backward glance. After Julian left, I drove to the Thorne family’s old estate. The Thorne estate was a sprawling compound of century-old mansions. Inside, the decor was a blend of East and West, a mix of antique and modern. Upon entering, Julian’s mother, Vivian, was sitting on the sofa, a maid massaging her shoulders. Hearing my arrival, she turned, glanced at me, then closed her eyes again. I didn’t bother her, going straight upstairs to the study. “Grandfather…” I considered my words carefully. “Three years have passed. I want to leave the Thorne family.” I knew then that Julian had outwardly sent Anastasia away, but in reality, he was sending her abroad to study. When I found out he was still flying back and forth between Hong Kong and Australia while I was hospitalized, I completely gave up hope. It was then that I sought out Grandfather Thorne, just as the Thorne family was facing internal turmoil. He asked me to stay for three more years, promising that if Julian remained incorrigible, he would personally arrange for me to leave the family. The armchair creaked softly. Grandfather Thorne opened his eyes, looking at me, and asked, “I thought three years would make you accustomed to things. Why do you still want to leave?” Seeing my silence, he sighed. “When you first wanted to marry into the Thorne family, you should have anticipated this. Look at Vivian. When she was young, she was even fiercer than you. Yet, in the end, didn’t she hold onto the title of Mrs. Thorne? All those illegitimate children couldn’t stir up a ripple, and the son she bore, Julian, is still the sole heir to the Thorne family.” Vivian was Julian’s mother, this woman, who now leads a life of quiet devotion, had an extraordinary force of personality in her youth. “Do you know what she relied on?” “What?” “She relied on my endorsement. As long as I say so, no one can steal your position as Mrs. Thorne. With my backing, those other women won’t threaten you.” “Besides, I’m not talking to you about feelings; I’m talking about a transaction. You’ve performed exceptionally well these past few years, both in the company and for the Thorne family. You’ve held everything together. It would take time and effort for us to cultivate another person like you. You can calculate whether leaving the Thorne family is worth it.” If we were to talk strictly about transactions and not feelings, this was undoubtedly the most advantageous deal. I poured him some tea and said softly, “You know, if it wasn’t about feelings, I wouldn’t even be here right now.” I had considered it too, holding firmly onto the title of legitimate wife, no matter how hard outsiders tried, they couldn’t enter the Thorne family’s doors. But I didn’t marry Julian to become Mrs. Thorne; I became Mrs. Thorne because I married Julian. Back then, I pushed him away, telling him his marriage wasn’t free, yet he still had the nerve to date me. Julian frowned, “What do you mean my marriage isn’t free? I have plenty of ways to marry you. You can’t go a day without seeing me, and you’re already talking about marrying someone else? Do you think I’m a good-for-nothing?” I didn’t believe him. What ‘ways’ could possibly bypass so many obstacles? Later, he didn’t bring it up again. He just gradually took over Concord Group, slowly integrating himself into the heart of the Thorne family. After graduation, I also successfully joined Concord Group, starting as an intern. Back then, I trained during the day, and Julian coached me personally at night, allowing me to grow incredibly fast. By the time we brought up marriage again, he was firmly established in the Thorne family, and no one dared to utter a word of dissent. He respected Grandfather Thorne, however, and the next day, he came up with a scheme to make the Old Master see reason. “You little rascal, did you really think I was old and senile, out of my mind?” Grandfather Thorne scoffed. “You dragged some pretty boy with slicked-back hair from an entertainment company, holding hands, ready to register their marriage. Did he think I’d be scared? I just turned a blind eye. I indulged you, and still you’re not satisfied.” “Now, after only a few years, you’re making a fuss about divorce again.” “Let me be clear. Once you leave the Thorne family, I won’t let you return. Think it over carefully before you decide.” I bowed my head, replaying the fleeting seven years of my marriage in my mind. “Leaving the Thorne family is something I’ve waited three years for.” He waved his hand. “Finish up your current affairs. Someone will contact you then.” When I came downstairs, Julian’s mother was still sitting on the sofa. I walked to the door, then turned back. “In the future, I won’t be able to offer you my well wishes. I hope you remain in good health.” After saying this, I turned and walked out. The living room of the Thorne estate was dimly lit. Vivian, shrouded in the dim light, looked straight ahead. All the light in the room seemed to be carried away by the figure walking swiftly out. As she watched, it was as if she saw a younger Vivian, walking out. Aunt Lee bent down and whispered in her ear, “Madam, it’s late. It’s time for bed.” The living room fell dim again. Vivian retracted her gaze. “Let’s go.” **TO BE CONTINUED…**

As I got into the car, I remembered I had to deal with my current affairs. I immediately arranged for the paparazzo to collect a check the next morning, buying off all of Julian’s gossip from today. The next time I received a message from Julian was a few days later. After Anastasia returned, he had reined himself in considerably. Remembering my deal with Grandfather Thorne, I told my driver to make a detour to pick Julian up. The door was open when we arrived. Inside, a group of people were playing cards, and Anastasia was among them. She had just won a big hand. The man opposite her flattered, “Ms. Anastasia, you’re on a roll tonight! You’re dominating the table; I’m about to lose my shirt. Have a heart, spare us!” Anastasia smiled, about to speak. Julian looked up and saw me at the doorway. He took a drag from his cigarette and scoffed, “The one standing at the door is your actual Mrs. Thorne. Are you blind, calling random women by her title? No wonder you can’t win a hand all night.” The man saw me and stood up in a panic. “M-Mrs. Thorne…” Anastasia, seeing me, paled. At this scene, I knew Julian was doing it on purpose. He always did this – deliberately made me watch, doing everything he could to force me into a divorce and make way, yet he’d stubbornly refuse to actually divorce me. His reason was simple enough: “She’s young and naive. I can keep her around for fun, but who would seriously marry her? One Mrs. Thorne is enough, and that’s you.” I surveyed the people in the room, left my driver behind, instructing him to pick up Julian later. Then I nodded politely and turned to leave. I had just reached the door when Anastasia blocked my path. The girl who was eighteen two years ago was now barely twenty, still fresh-faced and vibrant. She was slightly breathless, her voice a delicate whisper, “Mrs. Thorne, I’m so sorry. I truly didn’t mean to break up your family. I tried to leave, I tried to forget, but I couldn’t.” “I can’t forget Mr. Thorne. I love him very much, but please believe me, deep down, I really didn’t intend to destroy your family.” “Mr. Thorne and I… we just met too late. If he had met me back then, I would have been Mrs. Thorne…” “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. Anyway, I genuinely want to apologize to you. If there’s a next life, I’ll be your servant to atone.” “But in this life, I can’t give Mr. Thorne back to you. I’m sorry.” I looked her up and down. Two years ago, she could only afford clothes costing a few tens of dollars. Now, she was covered head to toe in understated luxury, a pair of shoes on her feet worth three years of her department store salary. There are many sparrows. I used to be one; now it’s Anastasia. I didn’t speak, and I wouldn’t stoop to speaking with her. I wouldn’t try to appeal to morality or conscience to awaken a mistress. If she knew how to spell ‘morals,’ she wouldn’t be so thrilled to be a mistress. “You should divorce Mr. Thorne!” Her voice called out behind me, “Release him!” Inside, the people exchanged glances. Someone dared to look at Julian, whose face was icy. “Julian, aren’t you going after Mrs. Thorne? When women get angry, they might actually file for divorce!” Julian looked at the image of the two-million-dollar check, lost in thought. After a moment, he chuckled, “Wouldn’t divorce be great? Free as a bird.”

Julian Thorne was the last in the family to find out about my divorce. When he heard the news, he raised an eyebrow at the person who delivered it. “What kind of joke is that?” Scarlett exaggerated, “What joke? Grandfather Thorne already agreed to it! Besides, you’ve been turning the house upside down these past two years, wasn’t it all just to get a divorce?” “If you ask me,” she leaned in conspiratorially, perched on the table, “if it’s over, it’s over. Men always end up despising a nagging wife.” She then added, “Kitty’s still waiting for you, you know? She hasn’t married all these years. If you divorce, maybe give her a chance?” Scarlett had always had a designated sister-in-law in mind, only for me to appear out of nowhere that year. On Julian’s wedding day, she was fuming with indignation, yet forced herself to smile and hand over a generous red envelope. Poor Kitty, she channeled her sorrow into strength from that day on, rejecting all men and becoming a workaholic. Julian, head aching, told her to get out. Scarlett grabbed her bag and shuffled out. As she exited, she bumped into Anastasia, who, perhaps having overheard their conversation, still had a smile lingering on her lips. Scarlett folded her arms and grinned. “Wow, that’s a wide grin. Like some kind of carnivorous plant. Are you going to eat babies? Delusional! Amelia could divorce eighteen times, and my sister-in-law’s position still wouldn’t be yours.” Anastasia’s expression remained unchanged, her tone gentle. “Then whose would it be? Your Kitty? She seems even more delusional.” Scarlett clapped her hands. “Typical mistress behavior, skin as thick as a fortress wall. You’re not fit to even tie Kitty’s shoelaces.” Anastasia watched her walk away, her gaze distant. Julian sent her abroad to study, bought her a house, and enabled her to live a high society life. And for her, he even fought with me for a divorce. First, it was Amelia; now, it was her. If Amelia could sit in the position of Mrs. Thorne, why couldn’t she? Two years ago, she knelt on Victoria Peak, gazing at the luxurious villa before her. Back then, she thought, one day, the doors of that villa would open for her.

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After successfully winning over the brooding male lead, I chose to immediately leave that world. Even though he begged me, desperate and broken, to stay, I didn’t spare him a single second. Later, back in the real world, things weren’t going well for me. The System found me, offering five million to return to the story and win him over again. I was about to agree when, suddenly, live comments flooded my vision: “OMG, the ex-wife, who dumped our guy, is back!” “Lol, she can’t seriously think he still loves her, right?” “The second girl who came to win him over didn’t just manage to reduce his darkness level to negative one hundred; she willingly stayed, giving him the complete family he always yearned for.” “Now the happy couple is about to get married. Can’t the ex-wife just have some dignity and leave them alone?” It took me a long time to process. The “ex-wife” the comments were talking about was me. Beside me, the System was still chattering away, trying to sell me on the deal. “You just need to make Damien Thorne fall in love with you again, and you’ll get five million. Even if you fail, you’ll get fifty thousand for your effort. How about it? A good deal, right?” It was a good deal. And right now, I really needed that money. But remembering the live comments, I fell silent for a moment, saying I needed to think about it. So, the System decided to send me back into the story first. To be precise, it sent me back to the home Damien and I once shared. The small apartment, just a few hundred square feet, was old but cozy, just as I remembered it three years ago. Damien hadn’t touched any of my things. Even the dress I’d accidentally stained before leaving, he’d somehow cleaned and hung neatly in the closet. I remembered that dress was from a trendy designer label back then. When Damien secretly bought it for me, I’d scolded him fiercely for spending so much. He wouldn’t argue, just lowered his gaze obediently, waiting for my anger to fade. Then he’d gently coax me into trying it on. I lowered my head, looking at the silky fabric in my hands. Taking a deep breath. If Damien had really forgotten about me. Then why was he still keeping this apartment? I looked up again, surveying the small room. My gaze was suddenly drawn to a white sheet of paper taped to the window. On the translucent sheet of paper, a few scrawled words stood out: “HOUSE FOR SALE. NEGOTIABLE. URGENT.” The sharp, decisive handwriting was unmistakably Damien’s.

Again, dense lines of text appeared before my eyes: “Hahaha, the ex-wife must be stunned, huh? Our guy isn’t holding onto their past; he just hasn’t gotten around to selling the place yet.” “The ex-wife still thinks Damien loves her like before, but nope! With Chloe, he wouldn’t spare her a second glance.” “The System only made her come back to cause trouble for Damien and Chloe. The ex-wife is just setting herself up for public humiliation.” I pursed my lips. So, that was it. The System dared to offer five million because it was utterly convinced I’d fail. Its real goal was to make me the villainess, an obstacle to the main couple’s love story. It just got my labor for fifty thousand, practically for free. Fifty thousand. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. Being a clown for fifty grand wasn’t nothing. It was a week’s worth of ICU treatment, after all. I called out to the System and readily agreed to the deal. The System beamed, giving me a large sum of money for my expenses during this time, though it could only be used in this world. Since Damien was so eager to sell this apartment. Why don’t I just buy it? I clutched my phone, dialing the familiar number from memory. It took half a minute for someone to pick up. A clear, youthful voice chimed from the other end: “Hello, who is this?” I froze for a second. I looked down to confirm, it was indeed Damien’s number. “I was passing by and saw the ‘for sale’ sign on the window…” “You want to buy the house?” The person on the other end exclaimed with surprise: “That’s great! Someone finally wants this place.” I cautiously asked: “Are you the owner?” “I’m the owner’s girlfriend. You can just call me Chloe.” So, she was the second System Host. In my moment of distraction, there was a brief commotion on the other end, like two people whispering. It seemed like a long time passed. Someone picked up the phone again. Damien’s cold voice came through clearly: “Hello, would it be convenient to meet and discuss?”

I waited restlessly in the coffee shop for a long time. Until a low-key luxury car pulled up in front. The car door opened, and a stunning couple emerged. Three years hadn’t changed Damien’s striking looks. The youthful innocence in his eyes had faded, replaced by the calm composure that came with power and wealth. He leaned casually against the car door. Chloe must have said something, because he smiled and ruffled her hair. Even from a distance, his eyes flickered in my direction. It was only for a second, a brief, dismissive glance, before his gaze went utterly blank again, like a still pond. Chloe sat across from me while I was still lost in thought. She smiled apologetically at me: “My boyfriend had an appointment, so he could only drop me off. I’m here to handle this for him.” I nodded genuinely: “I can see you two have a great relationship.” Chloe’s smile deepened: “My boyfriend runs a tech company; his pure profit alone is over a hundred million a year. We don’t really need the money from this house; we just don’t want to keep it anymore.” Her tone carried a hint of subtle superiority. I nodded, and, following protocol, asked to see the house. Chloe hesitated, a flicker of awkwardness in her eyes: “The house key isn’t with me. If you want to see it, my boyfriend will have to take you personally.” I was slightly surprised, confused: “He didn’t give you the key before you came?” Logically, buying and selling a house always involves a viewing. Damien couldn’t possibly not know that. Chloe sighed with a苦笑 (bitter smile): “I asked for the key, but he wouldn’t give it to me, and he’s never taken me there either.” She lowered her voice: “To be honest with you, this is where he lived with his ex-wife when he started out, and honestly, it just gives me the creeps, so I really want to sell it fast.” I said “Oh.” “In that case, I don’t need to see the house. Let’s just sign the contract.” Chloe was overjoyed. Afraid I might change my mind, she immediately pulled out the sales agreement. However, she didn’t have the property deed, so the transfer couldn’t happen immediately. We still had to wait for Damien. Sitting idly, bored. Looking at this other System Host, just like me. I curiously probed: “How did you two get together?” Actually, I wanted to know how she managed to win Damien over. The System had told me. After I left that world, Damien briefly spiraled into a secondary dark phase. He slit his wrists, attempted suicide, and his darkness level became so extreme it threatened the very stability of this world. Chloe came into his life at that time. She not only reduced his darkness level but completely replaced me in his heart. Damien wasn’t an easy person to win over. She must have gone through a lot. Yet Chloe said with a beaming smile: “He had just been abandoned by his ex-wife then and was completely disheartened. I kept comforting him, and we confirmed our relationship not long after.” It was that simple? I could barely believe it. Again, a flood of mocking comments appeared before me: “Hahaha, the ex-wife must be so triggered, right? Damien just has no resistance to our girl!” “Don’t forget the ex-wife spent ten whole years trying to win him over, throwing herself at him countless times before he finally, reluctantly, got with her.” “Chloe just talked to him a bit, and all the ex-wife’s years of effort went to waste. That’s the power of true love!” … I silently read the sarcastic remarks. They were right. My process of winning Damien over had indeed been incredibly difficult. So difficult that I never wanted to go through it again.

Damien’s parents didn’t love him. At a young age, they abandoned him at a psychiatric institution, leaving him at the mercy of abusive staff and relentless bullying. The patients confined there were lunatics and violent maniacs; the entire institution was like a prison, heavily guarded. So, even with the System’s help. When I rescued him from the psychiatric institution, I almost lost half my life. I brought Damien to an unfamiliar city. I wanted him to study, to lead a normal, decent life. I even arranged expensive psychological counseling for him every week. I did all of this because I wanted him to completely trust me. But Damien was too smart. He easily saw through the truth of this world, including my identity and purpose. After high school, Damien became the top student in the state. I happily celebrated with him. But he subtly pulled my arm, his expression cold, with a hint of self-mockery that was hard to detect. “You’re doing all this for me because you want to win me over, right?” After the initial shock. I sighed, choked up, and said: “I like you. That’s my purpose.” Damien snorted lightly, clearly not believing me. I felt a little nervous, but still rested my head on his chest, muttering softly: “Damien, don’t dwell on all those trivial things. These past few years have been so hard for me; you need to make my life easier soon.” “I truly like you. Please don’t question me like this anymore; it really hurts.” … After college graduation, Damien started his own business. We moved into that small, old apartment. There was no heating in the winter. I’ve always been sensitive to the cold, and my feet would get stiff and ache. Every night, Damien would rub my feet, silently, his eyes red with concern. By that time, we were already married. His life’s ambition shifted from founding a tech company to, well, destroying the world, to the rather mundane goal of just making enough money to buy his wife a house. We hustled during the day and nestled together on that small bed at night. When I was trying to secure investments, one CEO made things incredibly difficult for me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Damien, so I just walked the streets alone, crying. And when faced with deliberate retaliation from competitors, I firmly shielded Damien, protecting him, while I ended up in the operating room myself. I can’t even count how many times I went through things like that. That’s how long it took for Damien to slowly, finally, fall in love with me. Compared to my ten-year effort to win him over. Chloe only took three short weeks. To reduce Damien’s darkness level to negative one hundred. And raise his affection level to one hundred percent. 6. Chloe was still telling me about the sweet details of her relationship with Damien. She said Damien fell in love with her at first sight. I suppressed a pang of sadness and took a sip of my milkshake. “Did he… ever mention his ex-wife to you?” Chloe thought for a moment, then smiled triumphantly: “Never. He must have moved on from her long ago.” I nodded. I hoped so. I didn’t want to genuinely sabotage their relationship either. When Damien arrived, I’d pretend to be regretful, throwing myself at him. Knowing his personality, he’d probably be disgusted and avoid me at all costs, right? Once he rejected me, I’d take my fifty grand and happily leave this world. As I was planning this, Chloe suddenly got a call and told me excitedly: “My boyfriend just finished his meeting and is coming to pick me up now. We’re going on a date, so let’s talk about the house tomorrow.” I froze for a second, forcing a smile and nodding: “Then I’ll just go…” Chloe affectionately took my arm: “Where do you live? I’ll have my boyfriend drop you off.” My smile froze. Chloe was so enthusiastic. So much so that by the time I realized what was happening, the car door was already closed. A cool, crisp pine scent, like an expensive cologne, slowly permeated the air. Beside me, Chloe’s voice was playful as she showed Damien her freshly done manicure. Damien was sitting in front of me. From my angle, I could see his distinct, bony fingers on the steering wheel. He focused intently on the road, yet responded to her every word. Watching the man’s striking features in the rearview mirror, I felt a momentary blur. Damien was never this patient with me. When we were together, he was always so insecure, afraid of losing me. Every night, he would wake up abruptly, frantically reaching for my side of the bed. I could only, tiredly, reassure him again and again: “I won’t leave you alone. I love you, and it has nothing to do with the mission.” I kept telling him that lie until the moment I left that world. Damien wept, clutching my hand, begging me not to go, begging me to stay a little longer, to spend a few more years with him. I sighed, refusing him every time. His face was pale, his eyes swirling with pain and madness: “Why? Don’t you love me? How can you bear to leave me? Didn’t you say you’d never leave me alone?” I gave a bitter smile: “I have my own love in the real world.” … Catching my gaze, Damien frowned and slowly lifted his eyes. Our eyes met. The car lurched forward violently—a sudden brake. I wasn’t prepared and hit my forehead hard against the window, leaving a red mark. “Sorry.” Damien’s voice sounded somewhat hoarse. He turned his head slightly: “We’re at your place.” I finally realized, said “Oh,” and thanked him. When I got in the car, Chloe had asked for my address, and I’d just randomly picked a neighborhood. I made plans to meet Chloe again and then got out of the car. Damien kept his eyes down, never looking back at me. He didn’t hesitate for a second; the car’s tail disappeared from sight in an instant. At the entrance of the bustling neighborhood. I slowly crouched down, hugging myself. Who knows how much more time passed. The familiar luxury car silently and forcefully pulled up in front of me. The car window slowly rolled down, revealing the sharply defined profile of a man. Damien just calmly looked at me: “Get in.” 7. I’d thought Damien would find a way to see me. But I never imagined it would be so soon. So fast that I hadn’t even had time to prepare myself to face him. During the standoff, Damien lit a cigarette. I frowned abruptly. I didn’t like Damien smoking. In the past, I would have snatched it away and stomped it out without a word. And back then, Damien was always obedient. If I said quit smoking, he wouldn’t touch another cigarette. He would never have acted like this. Staring at me unabashedly through the pale tendrils of smoke. I held back, just about to speak. The live comments once again flooded the screen: “Why is the ex-wife acting so demure? Does she seriously think Damien still has feelings for her?” “Damien already knows she’s back, but he didn’t want to make Chloe overthink, so he didn’t reveal her identity in the car.” “If it weren’t to warn her not to say anything stupid in front of Chloe, Damien wouldn’t bother meeting her alone.” I stood silently. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me. That momentary impulse vanished without a trace. Now, I didn’t care about his status. The cool, pale hand resting on the car window dropped lazily. Damien pulled his eyes away, expressionless. Lost in thought, he put out the cigarette with a hint of sarcasm. “You wanted to buy the house, right? Get in, I’ll take you to see it.” 8. The drive was silent. Damien showed no inclination to speak. But the comments in my vision were a cacophony. “Good thing the ex-wife is smart enough to know the passenger seat is for the girlfriend. She voluntarily sat in the back.” “Damien’s supposed to be warning the ex-wife, so why is he taking her to their old house?” “Don’t worry, upstairs! Damien just doesn’t know the ex-wife’s little schemes yet. Once her true colors are exposed, he’ll hate her even more.” … At the door. I couldn’t help but ask: “Don’t you have anything… to ask me?” Damien’s hand, holding the key, paused. He looked down, raised an eyebrow, and quietly waited for me to continue. I gathered my courage: “Like why I came back, how long I’ll stay, or… what my purpose is in buying this house.” “Not interested.” Damien withdrew his gaze, his tone indifferent: “I don’t care who buys this place; I’ll erase everything associated with you. As for why you came back…” With his hands in his pockets, he seemed to let out a small, mocking laugh: “It wouldn’t be to win me over again, would it?” I was silent for a second: “What if it is?” 9. “You’re welcome to try.” Damien raised his hand and pushed the door open. *Creak*. Everything inside the room was once again clearly laid out before me. A shaft of slanted light, dust motes dancing. Damien stood behind me and to my left, his clothes brushing against my sleeve. He didn’t speak, nor did I. In the silence, it felt like we were back in an ordinary afternoon after we got married. We were returning home from the grocery store. His fingers were laden with plastic bags full of all my favorite foods and snacks. We laughed and joked all the way. When the door closed. I jumped onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck, giggling as I sought his lips. Damien leaned back helplessly. Until his back was pressed against the door, he held my waist and kissed me back, gently. … My wrist was suddenly seized. My body stiffened. Damien quickly let go, his expression returning to normal: “Take a look. Selling it to you is fine; it saves me the trouble of cleaning the place.” I nodded, casually walked around, and came back: “No problem. I’ve already arranged with Chloe to transfer the deed tomorrow. Just give her the property deed, you don’t need to show up.” “Alright.” Damien agreed readily. His tone paused for a second, then he said with slow, mocking sarcasm: “You don’t need to be so guarded with me. If I could, I’d wish to never see you again.” “This private meeting with you is because I was afraid you’d say something stupid in front of Chloe,” he raised an eyebrow at me, “I don’t want her to be unhappy, do you understand?” I took a quiet, deep breath: “I won’t mention our relationship to Chloe.” “Good.” Silence again. With things said to this extent. I knew, of course, that I should discreetly leave. But for those fifty thousand dollars. I still spoke, my voice a little choked: “Damien, I was wrong back then. I shouldn’t have abandoned you and left.” A ripple appeared in Damien’s dark, deep eyes. He narrowed his eyes, staring at me, seemingly lost in thought: “Go on.” “I came back this time because I wanted to make it up to you, and I realized I still like you. Can you…” I nervously looked at him: “Consider me… just one more time?” 9. The room fell into a dead silence. As soon as I finished speaking, my vision was practically drowned in an overwhelming flood of mocking comments. I closed my eyes in shame. My face was burning, hot with embarrassment. After a long moment. Someone in the room let out a low chuckle: “What? Did your husband in the real world finally die, and now you’re coming back to your eternal backup?” I snapped my head up, my eye twitching for a moment. My lips trembled slightly with anger. All of this registered in Damien’s dark eyes. He raised an eyebrow: “My apologies, didn’t you notice? I have my own love now.” His tone was light and dismissive. Yet, those dark pupils were fixed intently on me. My eyes felt a little dry; I blinked hard: “I know.” Damien seemed to smile faintly, or perhaps there was no emotion at all. Finally, he just left, pushing the door open, leaving me with his retreating back. “YES! God knows how long I’ve waited for this moment!” “Hahahaha, the boomerang finally came back to hit the ex-wife!” “The ex-wife should just leave the System already. Even if she saves Damien a hundred more times, he’ll never love her again.” “But Damien still went soft on her, leaving the house key so she wouldn’t be homeless… Wait, what’s under the key?” I stiffened slightly, looking at the table covered with a clear tablecloth. Damien had indeed left the apartment key behind before he left. Under the old, yellowish key, there was a red booklet. “OMG! Am I seeing things? It’s the property deed!” “Why would Damien leave the property deed to the ex-wife?! Shouldn’t such an important document be given to Chloe?!” I tremblingly opened the property deed. Suddenly, the comments went silent. Only my name was written on the property deed. 10. I suddenly remembered. When we bought this apartment, Damien handled all the paperwork. I knew I would eventually leave, and to avoid future complications, I specifically instructed him to only put my name on it. I didn’t expect him to only listen halfway. He did indeed only write one name, but that person was me. So this was my apartment all along; there was no need for me to buy it. The comments became lively again: “I get it! Damien must not want the ex-wife to meet Chloe again, so he pulled this trick.” “Makes sense. Damien is now a billionaire, a self-made tech mogul. A house worth a few hundred thousand is nothing to him; it’s less than a single piece of jewelry for Chloe!” “Ah, I’m dying of sweetness! Damien’s love for Chloe is so obvious! They’ve been together for over a year, and he still can’t bear to even touch her hand…” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. So that was it. I called out to the System: “I failed to win him over. Can I go back to my original world now?” The System slowly typed out a question mark: “You’re too perfunctory, aren’t you? You think a simple confession is enough to make him fall in love with you again? Where’s the relentless drive you used to have to win him over?” I sighed: “I did my best. So, what would constitute ‘not perfunctory’?” The System was silent for a moment: “You actively kiss the male lead.” “What?” I was startled. “If the male lead pushes you away, we’ll consider it a failed attempt to win him over. You can exit the world and receive fifty thousand.” “If he doesn’t push you away…” The System paused: “Then you’ll have to stay in this world until you win him over again.” ***PAYWALL SECTION START*** 11. “Has this damn System lost its mind?” “The ex-wife actually agreed. What a bitch.” “Waaah, I don’t want Damien and Chloe to have problems, nooooo!” I remained silent. In this story, someone always had to be the villain. If not me, then someone else. I haggled: “Since you’ve made a demand, I want more in return. One hundred thousand, not a cent less.” For the System, this amount was negligible. It agreed, but with some doubt: “Are you really that short on cash?” “Of course.” The System continued to ask: “Is it worth sacrificing the rest of your life for someone who will never wake up?” A pale face flashed before my eyes. I said: “You wouldn’t understand.” The next day, Chloe invited me to lunch to thank me for solving her big headache. “I think, even if he doesn’t say it, he still cares about her,” Chloe whispered her complaints to me. “Honestly, many people asked about buying this house over the years, but he didn’t want to sell it, which is why it dragged on until now.” I paused, then shook my head: “You’re overthinking it. If he really didn’t want to sell it, why would he put up a ‘for sale’ sign?” Chloe gave me a knowing look, then leaned in mysteriously, sighing: “Let me be frank with you, actually…” Her words were cut short as the glass next to our table suddenly shattered. A massive roar followed. Glass shards flew everywhere; I quickly pulled Chloe behind me. A middle-aged man drove an oversized excavator straight into the restaurant. “OMG, OMG! The villain’s here! Here comes the legendary hero to the rescue!” “Who will Damien save first~ So hard to guess~” “Can the villain just kill the ex-wife already? Her pretentious act is so annoying!” In the bumpy trunk of a car. Chloe was terrified and panicked, her eyes red like a little white rabbit. A year ago, when she met Damien, he had already built a vast business empire. On the surface, he was merely a tech magnate, but in this city, where his influence stretched far beyond the law, he was practically untouchable. Under his protection, Chloe had experienced virtually no hardships. But I was different. During the years I spent trying to win Damien over, he hadn’t yet become as powerful as he was today, and he couldn’t always protect me. In the business world, it was all open hostility and underhanded tactics. Being kidnapped, I was already… used to it. I struggled to turn around, gently touched her forehead, signaling her to calm down. Meanwhile, the villain had stopped the car in a desolate wasteland. He picked up an iron bar from the passenger seat and walked coldly towards us. “Whoa, he’s going to hit someone with a bar that thick?” “That looks so scary, it’ll hurt so much, don’t hurt our girl, noooo!” “It’s not going to be a bad ending, right? If Chloe dies, Damien will probably go insane again.” “Exactly, when the ex-wife left, Damien nearly destroyed himself. If Chloe gets hurt again…” Watching Chloe curl up in fear. I closed my eyes. Chloe saved Damien. She rescued him, giving him the motivation to live a good life. If she died too… The moment the weapon swung towards Chloe, I moved, pushing myself in front of her. 12. Piercing police sirens cut through the howling wind. The weapon paused in mid-air, an inch from my face, frozen in panic. Amidst a flurry of “????????”, I remained in a posture that felt like I was about to be decapitated any second, difficultly looking into the distance. Several police cars surrounded the desolate area. The car door opened, and Damien almost leaped out, his eyes immediately fixed on me. In my peripheral vision, his expression went blank for a moment, his eyelashes trembling, yet his face remained emotionless. Only his eyes, in that instant, turned completely red. The villain quickly made a decision between me and Chloe. He grabbed Chloe, holding a sharp box cutter to her carotid artery. Amidst her screams, he dragged her quickly backward, moving further and further away from me, even further than from the police. The police rapidly surrounded him, confronting the villain. I seemed to be safe. Still shaken, I tried to stand up. The next second. Someone lunged forward and embraced me. 13. Damien was trembling. He held me in a death grip, so tight I could barely breathe. My neck slowly became soaked. I almost wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t. I could only, as I had done countless times before, stroke his back, gently: “It’s okay, see? I’m fine. I told you I’d be okay, why don’t you believe me?” The person in my arms remained silent. That wildly beating heart finally calmed down under my soothing touch. “?? Damien hates the ex-wife, so why was his first instinct to hug her?” “Hate my ass! Subconscious reactions don’t lie; he clearly loves her to death!” “So what about our girl? Chloe’s still with the bad guy!!!” My heart sank. I pulled away: “Let go. Everyone’s watching. Chloe is still with the bad guy; we need to save her first…” “At a time like this, you’re still thinking about someone else?” Damien cut me off abruptly, his cold, rough voice trembling uncontrollably: “Why did you shield her? If I had been even a second late…” “I won’t die,” I whispered. “Even if I die here, at most, I’ll just return to reality.” But Chloe was different. Once a System Host decides to remain in this world, their real-world body automatically dies, and they can only live out the rest of their days within the story. Chloe dying in this world meant she was truly dead, in every sense. Damien’s expression slowly faded. Even his breathing seemed to turn cold, leaving only a moist red mark at the corner of his eye. He lowered his head slightly, looking at his trembling hands, giving a self-deprecating laugh: “How pathetic. I worried for nothing. I almost forgot you don’t belong here.” “Right, you have a precious husband in a vegetative state back in the real world. You can’t wait to leave here and go back to him.” After successfully winning over the brooding male lead, I chose to immediately leave that world. Even though he begged me, desperate and broken, to stay, I didn’t spare him a single second. Later, back in the real world, things weren’t going well for me. The System found me, offering five million to return to the story and win him over again. I was about to agree when, suddenly, live comments flooded my vision: “OMG, the ex-wife, who dumped our guy, is back!” “Lol, she can’t seriously think he still loves her, right?” “The second girl who came to win him over didn’t just manage to reduce his darkness level to negative one hundred; she willingly stayed, giving him the complete family he always yearned for.” “Now the happy couple is about to get married. Can’t the ex-wife just have some dignity and leave them alone?” 1. It took me a long time to process. The “ex-wife” the comments were talking about was me. Beside me, the System was still chattering away, trying to sell me on the deal. “You just need to make Damien Thorne fall in love with you again, and you’ll get five million. Even if you fail, you’ll get fifty thousand for your effort. How about it? A good deal, right?” It was a good deal. And right now, I really needed that money. But remembering the live comments, I fell silent for a moment, saying I needed to think about it. So, the System decided to send me back into the story first. To be precise, it sent me back to the home Damien and I once shared. The small apartment, just a few hundred square feet, was old but cozy, just as I remembered it three years ago. Damien hadn’t touched any of my things. Even the dress I’d accidentally stained before leaving, he’d somehow cleaned and hung neatly in the closet. I remembered that dress was from a trendy designer label back then. When Damien secretly bought it for me, I’d scolded him fiercely for spending so much. He wouldn’t argue, just lowered his gaze obediently, waiting for my anger to fade. Then he’d gently coax me into trying it on. I lowered my head, looking at the silky fabric in my hands. Taking a deep breath. If Damien had really forgotten about me. Then why was he still keeping this apartment? I looked up again, surveying the small room. My gaze was suddenly drawn to a white sheet of paper taped to the window. On the translucent sheet of paper, a few scrawled words stood out: “HOUSE FOR SALE. NEGOTIABLE. URGENT.” The sharp, decisive handwriting was unmistakably Damien’s. 2. Again, dense lines of text appeared before my eyes: “Hahaha, the ex-wife must be stunned, huh? Our guy isn’t holding onto their past; he just hasn’t gotten around to selling the place yet.” “The ex-wife still thinks Damien loves her like before, but nope! With Chloe, he wouldn’t spare her a second glance.” “The System only made her come back to cause trouble for Damien and Chloe. The ex-wife is just setting herself up for public humiliation.” I pursed my lips. So, that was it. The System dared to offer five million because it was utterly convinced I’d fail. Its real goal was to make me the villainess, an obstacle to the main couple’s love story. It just got my labor for fifty thousand, practically for free. Fifty thousand. I gave a self-deprecating laugh. Being a clown for fifty grand wasn’t nothing. It was a week’s worth of ICU treatment, after all. I called out to the System and readily agreed to the deal. The System beamed, giving me a large sum of money for my expenses during this time, though it could only be used in this world. Since Damien was so eager to sell this apartment. Why don’t I just buy it? I clutched my phone, dialing the familiar number from memory. It took half a minute for someone to pick up. A clear, youthful voice chimed from the other end: “Hello, who is this?” I froze for a second. I looked down to confirm, it was indeed Damien’s number. “I was passing by and saw the ‘for sale’ sign on the window…” “You want to buy the house?” The person on the other end exclaimed with surprise: “That’s great! Someone finally wants this place.” I cautiously asked: “Are you the owner?” “I’m the owner’s girlfriend. You can just call me Chloe.” So, she was the second System Host. In my moment of distraction, there was a brief commotion on the other end, like two people whispering. It seemed like a long time passed. Someone picked up the phone again. Damien’s cold voice came through clearly: “Hello, would it be convenient to meet and discuss?” 3. I waited restlessly in the coffee shop for a long time. Until a low-key luxury car pulled up in front. The car door opened, and a stunning couple emerged. Three years hadn’t changed Damien’s striking looks. The youthful innocence in his eyes had faded, replaced by the calm composure that came with power and wealth. He leaned casually against the car door. Chloe must have said something, because he smiled and ruffled her hair. Even from a distance, his eyes flickered in my direction. It was only for a second, a brief, dismissive glance, before his gaze went utterly blank again, like a still pond. Chloe sat across from me while I was still lost in thought. She smiled apologetically at me: “My boyfriend had an appointment, so he could only drop me off. I’m here to handle this for him.” I nodded genuinely: “I can see you two have a great relationship.” Chloe’s smile deepened: “My boyfriend runs a tech company; his pure profit alone is over a hundred million a year. We don’t really need the money from this house; we just don’t want to keep it anymore.” Her tone carried a hint of subtle superiority. I nodded, and, following protocol, asked to see the house. Chloe hesitated, a flicker of awkwardness in her eyes: “The house key isn’t with me. If you want to see it, my boyfriend will have to take you personally.” I was slightly surprised, confused: “He didn’t give you the key before you came?” Logically, buying and selling a house always involves a viewing. Damien couldn’t possibly not know that. Chloe sighed with a bitter smile: “I asked for the key, but he wouldn’t give it to me, and he’s never taken me there either.” She lowered her voice: “To be honest with you, this is where he lived with his ex-wife when he started out, and honestly, it just gives me the creeps, so I really want to sell it fast.” I said “Oh.” “In that case, I don’t need to see the house. Let’s just sign the contract.” Chloe was overjoyed. Afraid I might change my mind, she immediately pulled out the sales agreement. However, she didn’t have the property deed, so the transfer couldn’t happen immediately. We still had to wait for Damien. Sitting idly, bored. Looking at this other System Host, just like me. I curiously probed: “How did you two get together?” Actually, I wanted to know how she managed to win Damien over. The System had told me. After I left that world, Damien briefly spiraled into a secondary dark phase. He slit his wrists, attempted suicide, and his darkness level became so extreme it threatened the very stability of this world. Chloe came into his life at that time. She not only reduced his darkness level but completely replaced me in his heart. Damien wasn’t an easy person to win over. She must have gone through a lot. Yet Chloe said with a beaming smile: “He had just been abandoned by his ex-wife then and was completely disheartened. I kept comforting him, and we confirmed our relationship not long after.” It was that simple? I could barely believe it. Again, a flood of mocking comments appeared before me: “Hahaha, the ex-wife must be so triggered, right? Damien just has no resistance to our girl!” “Don’t forget the ex-wife spent ten whole years trying to win him over, throwing herself at him countless times before he finally, reluctantly, got with her.” “Chloe just talked to him a bit, and all the ex-wife’s years of effort went to waste. That’s the power of true love!” … I silently read the sarcastic remarks. They were right. My process of winning Damien over had indeed been incredibly difficult. So difficult that I never wanted to go through it again. 4. Damien’s parents didn’t love him. At a young age, they abandoned him at a psychiatric institution, leaving him at the mercy of abusive staff and relentless bullying. The patients confined there were lunatics and violent maniacs; the entire institution was like a prison, heavily guarded. So, even with the System’s help. When I rescued him from the psychiatric institution, I almost lost half my life. I brought Damien to an unfamiliar city. I wanted him to study, to lead a normal, decent life. I even arranged expensive psychological counseling for him every week. I did all of this because I wanted him to completely trust me. But Damien was too smart. He easily saw through the truth of this world, including my identity and purpose. After high school, Damien became the top student in the state. I happily celebrated with him. But he subtly pulled my arm, his expression cold, with a hint of self-mockery that was hard to detect. “You’re doing all this for me because you want to win me over, right?” After the initial shock. I sighed, choked up, and said: “I like you. That’s my purpose.” Damien snorted lightly, clearly not believing me. I felt a little nervous, but still rested my head on his chest, muttering softly: “Damien, don’t dwell on all those trivial things. These past few years have been so hard for me; you need to make my life easier soon.” “I truly like you. Please don’t question me like this anymore; it really hurts.” … After college graduation, Damien started his own business. We moved into that small, old apartment. There was no heating in the winter. I’ve always been sensitive to the cold, and my feet would get stiff and ache. Every night, Damien would rub my feet, silently, his eyes red with concern. By that time, we were already married. His life’s ambition shifted from founding a tech company to, well, destroying the world, to the rather mundane goal of just making enough money to buy his wife a house. We hustled during the day and nestled together on that small bed at night. When I was trying to secure investments, one CEO made things incredibly difficult for me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Damien, so I just walked the streets alone, crying. And when faced with deliberate retaliation from competitors, I firmly shielded Damien, protecting him, while I ended up in the operating room myself. I can’t even count how many times I went through things like that. That’s how long it took for Damien to slowly, finally, fall in love with me. Compared to my ten-year effort to win him over. Chloe only took three short weeks. To reduce Damien’s darkness level to negative one hundred. And raise his affection level to one hundred percent. 6. Chloe was still telling me about the sweet details of her relationship with Damien. She said Damien fell in love with her at first sight. I suppressed a pang of sadness and took a sip of my milkshake. “Did he… ever mention his ex-wife to you?” Chloe thought for a moment, then smiled triumphantly: “Never. He must have moved on from her long ago.” I nodded. I hoped so. I didn’t want to genuinely sabotage their relationship either. When Damien arrived, I’d pretend to be regretful, throwing myself at him. Knowing his personality, he’d probably be disgusted and avoid me at all costs, right? Once he rejected me, I’d take my fifty grand and happily leave this world. As I was planning this, Chloe suddenly got a call and told me excitedly: “My boyfriend just finished his meeting and is coming to pick me up now. We’re going on a date, so let’s talk about the house tomorrow.” I froze for a second, forcing a smile and nodding: “Then I’ll just go…” Chloe affectionately took my arm: “Where do you live? I’ll have my boyfriend drop you off.” My smile froze. Chloe was so enthusiastic. So much so that by the time I realized what was happening, the car door was already closed. A cool, crisp pine scent, like an expensive cologne, slowly permeated the air. Beside me, Chloe’s voice was playful as she showed Damien her freshly done manicure. Damien was sitting in front of me. From my angle, I could see his distinct, bony fingers on the steering wheel. He focused intently on the road, yet responded to her every word. Watching the man’s striking features in the rearview mirror, I felt a momentary blur. Damien was never this patient with me. When we were together, he was always so insecure, afraid of losing me. Every night, he would wake up abruptly, frantically reaching for my side of the bed. I could only, tiredly, reassure him again and again: “I won’t leave you alone. I love you, and it has nothing to do with the mission.” I kept telling him that lie until the moment I left that world. Damien wept, clutching my hand, begging me not to go, begging me to stay a little longer, to spend a few more years with him. I sighed, refusing him every time. His face was pale, his eyes swirling with pain and madness: “Why? Don’t you love me? How can you bear to leave me? Didn’t you say you’d never leave me alone?” I gave a bitter smile: “I have my own love in the real world.” … Catching my gaze, Damien frowned and slowly lifted his eyes. Our eyes met. The car lurched forward violently—a sudden brake. I wasn’t prepared and hit my forehead hard against the window, leaving a red mark. “Sorry.” Damien’s voice sounded somewhat hoarse. He turned his head slightly: “We’re at your place.” I finally realized, said “Oh,” and thanked him. When I got in the car, Chloe had asked for my address, and I’d just randomly picked a neighborhood. I made plans to meet Chloe again and then got out of the car. Damien kept his eyes down, never looking back at me. He didn’t hesitate for a second; the car’s tail disappeared from sight in an instant. At the entrance of the bustling neighborhood. I slowly crouched down, hugging myself. Who knows how much more time passed. The familiar luxury car silently and forcefully pulled up in front of me. The car window slowly rolled down, revealing the sharply defined profile of a man. Damien just calmly looked at me: “Get in.” 7. I’d thought Damien would find a way to see me. But I never imagined it would be so soon. So fast that I hadn’t even had time to prepare myself to face him. During the standoff, Damien lit a cigarette. I frowned abruptly. I didn’t like Damien smoking. In the past, I would have snatched it away and stomped it out without a word. And back then, Damien was always obedient. If I said quit smoking, he wouldn’t touch another cigarette. He would never have acted like this. Staring at me unabashedly through the pale tendrils of smoke. I held back, just about to speak. The live comments once again flooded the screen: “Why is the ex-wife acting so demure? Does she seriously think Damien still has feelings for her?” “Damien already knows she’s back, but he didn’t want to make Chloe overthink, so he didn’t reveal her identity in the car.” “If it weren’t to warn her not to say anything stupid in front of Chloe, Damien wouldn’t bother meeting her alone.” I stood silently. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me. That momentary impulse vanished without a trace. Now, I didn’t care about his status. The cool, pale hand resting on the car window dropped lazily. Damien pulled his eyes away, expressionless. Lost in thought, he put out the cigarette with a hint of sarcasm. “You wanted to buy the house, right? Get in, I’ll take you to see it.” 8. The drive was silent. Damien showed no inclination to speak. But the comments in my vision were a cacophony. “Good thing the ex-wife is smart enough to know the passenger seat is for the girlfriend. She voluntarily sat in the back.” “Damien’s supposed to be warning the ex-wife, so why is he taking her to their old house?” “Don’t worry, upstairs! Damien just doesn’t know the ex-wife’s little schemes yet. Once her true colors are exposed, he’ll hate her even more.” … At the door. I couldn’t help but ask: “Don’t you have anything… to ask me?” Damien’s hand, holding the key, paused. He looked down, raised an eyebrow, and quietly waited for me to continue. I gathered my courage: “Like why I came back, how long I’ll stay, or… what my purpose is in buying this house.” “Not interested.” Damien withdrew his gaze, his tone indifferent: “I don’t care who buys this place; I’ll erase everything associated with you. As for why you came back…” With his hands in his pockets, he seemed to let out a small, mocking laugh: “It wouldn’t be to win me over again, would it?” I was silent for a second: “What if it is?” 9. “You’re welcome to try.” Damien raised his hand and pushed the door open. *Creak*. Everything inside the room was once again clearly laid out before me. A shaft of slanted light, dust motes dancing. Damien stood behind me and to my left, his clothes brushing against my sleeve. He didn’t speak, nor did I. In the silence, it felt like we were back in an ordinary afternoon after we got married. We were returning home from the grocery store. His fingers were laden with plastic bags full of all my favorite foods and snacks. We laughed and joked all the way. When the door closed. I jumped onto him, wrapping my arms around his neck, giggling as I sought his lips. Damien leaned back helplessly. Until his back was pressed against the door, he held my waist and kissed me back, gently. … My wrist was suddenly seized. My body stiffened. Damien quickly let go, his expression returning to normal: “Take a look. Selling it to you is fine; it saves me the trouble of cleaning the place.” I nodded, casually walked around, and came back: “No problem. I’ve already arranged with Chloe to transfer the deed tomorrow. Just give her the property deed, you don’t need to show up.” “Alright.” Damien agreed readily. His tone paused for a second, then he said with slow, mocking sarcasm: “You don’t need to be so guarded with me. If I could, I’d wish to never see you again.” “This private meeting with you is because I was afraid you’d say something stupid in front of Chloe,” he raised an eyebrow at me, “I don’t want her to be unhappy, do you understand?” I took a quiet, deep breath: “I won’t mention our relationship to Chloe.” “Good.” Silence again. With things said to this extent. I knew, of course, that I should discreetly leave. But for those fifty thousand dollars. I still spoke, my voice a little choked: “Damien, I was wrong back then. I shouldn’t have abandoned you and left.” A ripple appeared in Damien’s dark, deep eyes. He眯ed his eyes, staring at me, seemingly lost in thought: “Go on.” “I came back this time because I wanted to make it up to you, and I realized I still like you. Can you…” I nervously looked at him: “Consider me… just one more time?” 9. The room fell into a dead silence. As soon as I finished speaking, my vision was practically drowned in an overwhelming flood of mocking comments. I closed my eyes in shame. My face was burning, hot with embarrassment. After a long moment. Someone in the room let out a low chuckle: “What? Did your husband in the real world finally die, and now you’re coming back to your eternal backup?” I snapped my head up, my eye twitching for a moment. My lips trembled slightly with anger. All of this registered in Damien’s dark eyes. He raised an eyebrow: “My apologies, didn’t you notice? I have my own love now.” His tone was light and dismissive. Yet, those dark pupils were fixed intently on me. My eyes felt a little dry; I blinked hard: “I know.” Damien seemed to smile faintly, or perhaps there was no emotion at all. Finally, he just left, pushing the door open, leaving me with his retreating back. “YES! God knows how long I’ve waited for this moment!” “Hahahaha, the boomerang finally came back to hit the ex-wife!” “The ex-wife should just leave the System already. Even if she saves Damien a hundred more times, he’ll never love her again.” “But Damien still went soft on her, leaving the house key so she wouldn’t be homeless… Wait, what’s under the key?” I stiffened slightly, looking at the table covered with a clear tablecloth. Damien had indeed left the apartment key behind before he left. Under the old, yellowish key, there was a red booklet. “OMG! Am I seeing things? It’s the property deed!” “Why would Damien leave the property deed to the ex-wife?! Shouldn’t such an important document be given to Chloe?!” I tremblingly opened the property deed. Suddenly, the comments went silent. Only my name was written on the property deed. 10. I suddenly remembered. When we bought this apartment, Damien handled all the paperwork. I knew I would eventually leave, and to avoid future complications, I specifically instructed him to only put my name on it. I didn’t expect him to only listen halfway. He did indeed only write one name, but that person was me. So this was my apartment all along; there was no need for me to buy it. The comments became lively again: “I get it! Damien must not want the ex-wife to meet Chloe again, so he pulled this trick.” “Makes sense. Damien is now a billionaire, a self-made tech mogul. A house worth a few hundred thousand is nothing to him; it’s less than a single piece of jewelry for Chloe!” “Ah, I’m dying of sweetness! Damien’s love for Chloe is so obvious! They’ve been together for over a year, and he still can’t bear to even touch her hand…” I gave a self-deprecating laugh. So that was it. I called out to the System: “I failed to win him over. Can I go back to my original world now?” The System slowly typed out a question mark: “You’re too perfunctory, aren’t you? You think a simple confession is enough to make him fall in love with you again? Where’s the relentless drive you used to have to win him over?” I sighed: “I did my best. So, what would constitute ‘not perfunctory’?” The System was silent for a moment: “You actively kiss the male lead.” “What?” I was startled. “If the male lead pushes you away, we’ll consider it a failed attempt to win him over. You can exit the world and receive fifty thousand.” “If he doesn’t push you away…” The System paused: “Then you’ll have to stay in this world, until you win him over again.”

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At my 28th birthday party, Julian publicly carried Serena, who had fallen into the pool, back to her room. Everyone thought I’d just swallow the insult and stay silent. Instead, I trashed the banquet hall and demanded a divorce. Julian turned to look at me, a smirk on his face, utterly despicable. “Are you sure about this? There’s no turning back with me.” I nodded. “I know.” Three years after I left, I went to pick up my doctor boyfriend from work. But I bumped into Julian, holding an adorable little girl, consulting Asher about her condition. The moment our eyes met, he gave a cold sneer, pointed at me, and said to the little girl: “Looking for your mom? That’s her.” The hallway was bustling with people, the clinic door already closed by the patient who’d just entered. Julian’s long strides stopped right in front of me. His chiseled face was as cold and rigid as I remembered. His impeccably tailored suit outlined his perfectly proportioned, model-like physique. And the little girl in his arms, wearing a couture princess dress, was absolutely adorable. She clung to Julian’s neck, timidly eyeing me up and down. “What, don’t recognize your own child?” Julian’s thin lips curved, but no warmth reached his eyes. “Right, you haven’t seen her in years. How could you possibly recognize her?” I stiffened, a bitter feeling instantly flooding my heart. Back then, to get the divorce finalized quickly, I asked for nothing, not even the baby, who was still in diapers. Everyone called me heartless. Even my own parents thought so. The first time I brought up divorce, my mom specifically called me home. “You’re getting divorced, why didn’t you take the child? She’s your own flesh and blood, how could you be so cruel?” Seeing me look down and stay silent, she grew frantic: “Once you divorce, your stepsister will marry Julian before long. Are you just going to let her be your daughter’s stepmom?” I clenched my icy fingers. Turns out, in her heart, this marriage had always belonged to Serena. And I was nothing more than a temporary occupant, a stranger. But Serena wasn’t my biological sister. Fate played a cruel trick on us; she and I were swapped at birth. When I was finally brought home, the arranged marriage with Julian fell to me. Serena was forced to separate from Julian. In a fit of anger, she moved abroad and stopped contacting the family. I don’t know how they convinced Julian, but he eventually agreed to marry me. For two years, we maintained a civil, almost cordial relationship, relatively harmonious. But everyone knew Julian was still looking for Serena.

The day I received news about Serena was my due date. I woke up in pain in the middle of the night, instinctively reaching for Julian, only to find him on the balcony, talking on the phone. He was coaxing someone on the other end, his voice soft and tender: “I’ll come get you myself. Don’t worry, no one will dare say anything… Okay, I’m leaving now.” The moment he turned, our eyes met. I spoke calmly. “My stomach hurts a little. Can you take me to the hospital first?” He paused briefly, then continued walking out. “I’ll have the driver take you.” As he neared the door, I called out to him again. Julian’s gaze wasn’t warm. “Something else?” The tightening sensation in my abdomen made my voice tremble: “Julian,” I said, “if you walk out that door today, we’re done.” Julian’s expression instantly darkened. “What are you trying to pull now?” “Scarlett, I’m just going to pick her up. Why are you so dramatic?” He paused, then added, “Don’t forget, this marriage was originally hers, you snatched it.” His words hit me like a bucket of ice water. Two years of marriage, and while Julian didn’t necessarily love me, he never mistreated me. It even made me believe he had moved on from Serena and wanted to build a life with me. But now, I realized it was all just an illusion. My abdomen tightened again, forcing me to bend over and gasp for air. Serena’s cold voice came from Julian’s phone: “If she doesn’t want me here, I’ll buy a ticket and go back right now.” Julian’s face tightened. He spun around and hurried out. “Don’t be difficult, I’ll be there in a minute… Serena, don’t you dare leave…” As he spoke, he was already out the door. The door opened and closed, shutting away all his dominance and favoritism. I leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, trying to ease the pain. But the pain didn’t subside; instead, my stomach felt a heavy pull. Then, a warm liquid trickled down my thighs. Panicked, I dialed Julian’s number. The moment I spoke, I heard Julian’s chilling voice: “How long are you going to keep this up?” I said, my voice trembling, “I’m bleeding, the baby…” “Enough!” he cut me off sharply, scoffing, “I thought you were different from them. I didn’t expect you to use such low-class tactics.” “Whatever it is, we’ll talk when I get back.” With that, he hung up. Decisive and ruthless. Before we got married, my adoptive parents had told me, “If you don’t want to marry him, then don’t. Your mom and dad will support you for life.” Back then, I thought that with family interests binding us, Julian wouldn’t be so cruel. Later, I learned you can’t expect someone who never intended to love you seriously to put you first. The idea of divorce started then.

That day, an ambulance came for me. Lying on the operating table, clinging to life, I remembered many things. I remembered when we first got married, Julian and I had a sweet period. He’d take me to see the ocean at dawn, and we’d kiss when he was tipsy. Every evening and late night after we got our marriage license, he’d make love to me. My friends would say enviously, “Your husband really spoils you.” But that lasted only six months. The day I noticed something was off, I overheard him talking to his friend. His friend asked him, “Are you flaunting your affection like this to force Serena back? Looks like it’s not working.” Julian leaned against the railing, a faint, mocking smile playing on his lips: “Then let’s see how long she can endure.” “But your wife is pretty great in every way. No feelings for her?” Julian took a sip of his drink and chuckled dismissively. “It’s all for appearances, nothing I ever truly felt.” The indifference in his eyes stung me terribly, every single day after that. I tried the silent treatment with him. He was such a perceptive man; he’d always notice my unhappiness immediately and coax me in a low voice. As he coaxed me, I started coaxing myself. He couldn’t let go of Serena, he was just unwilling to admit it. If possible, he could pretend to be good to me for a lifetime, and I could play along. I didn’t know then that time is never the cure; reunion is. The operation was reaching its critical point; the medical staff’s movements suddenly became frantic. As my consciousness gradually blurred, I remembered something else. After my marriage to Julian was set, Serena went on a hunger strike and eventually fainted from low blood sugar. On that rainy night, Julian rushed her into the emergency room, cradling her. His white shirt was soaked through, but he didn’t seem to notice, only gripping her hand, calling out “Serena” again and again. I followed behind, holding the payment slip, watching him tremble as he pulled out fruit candies from his pocket, carefully peeled the wrapper, and slipped one into her pale lips. I stood by the IV stand, watching as he bent over, revealing the back of his neck, where sweat and rainwater mingled and dripped. That day, he was also sweating cold from a stomachache. But because Serena couldn’t be left alone, he gritted his teeth and stayed in the emergency room all night. And I, suffering from placental abruption and clinging to life, couldn’t even get him on the phone. Love is one thing, but if it requires too much humility, I don’t want it. Perhaps heaven had pity on me; in the end, I narrowly survived. It was five days later when I came out of the ICU. Before I even saw Julian, I heard news of him from my nurse. Turns out, while I was on the operating table, fighting for my life, he was throwing a lavish welcome party for Serena. He even arranged a spectacular fireworks display for her. Under the dazzling fireworks, the two exchanged glances, their expressions deep and restrained. In this marriage, I forgave many unforgivable things, thinking it would lead to happiness. Later, I discovered he had already predetermined our ending. No matter what I did, happiness was impossible. So, the first thing I did after being discharged was tell him I wanted a divorce. He was silent for a long time. “Don’t overthink this. Just focus on recovering.” He thought I was making this decision due to postpartum hormones. It wasn’t until three months later, at my birthday party, that I brought up divorce again. He was holding a soaking wet Serena, walking towards a room. Hearing my words, he turned back to look at me, his smile utterly despicable: “Are you sure about this? There’s no turning back with me.” I nodded calmly. “Okay.”

“Julian, my little Lily~” Serena’s voice pulled me back to the present. She was wearing elaborate makeup and high heels, stopping beside Julian. “What did the doctor say?” “Surgery is scheduled for next month.” Serena breathed a sigh of relief, smiling. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get an appointment with Dr. Asher! Now our little Lily will have…” She suddenly paused, as if just noticing me, and exclaimed in surprise: “Scarlett?” Before I could speak, she continued, “Did you come back because you knew Lily was sick? Well, you are Lily’s birth mother, after all.” After she spoke, I heard Julian say coldly, “Birth mother? Does she even deserve that title?” I froze, instinctively looking at the child in his arms. But I saw in her eyes a look of disappointment and sadness that I dared not face. In that moment, my chest felt like a handful of shattered glass had been kneaded into it, the dense, throbbing pain instantly spreading to my limbs. Julian had initially agreed to let me take the child. But he changed his mind. I questioned why he went back on his word. The man lounged on the sofa, his long legs casually stretched out: “Serena is afraid of ruining her figure and doesn’t want to have children.” I was furious. “That’s *my* child!” “She’s my child too. Don’t worry, Serena will treat her like her own.” I disagreed, but he used all sorts of tactics to pressure me. No matter what he said, I wouldn’t budge. Finally, he looked at me with cold eyes. “Scarlett, don’t forget how your adoptive parents got their jobs.” At that moment, I suddenly understood that I had no power to fight against him. During the standoff, Serena tugged on Julian’s sleeve, trying to smooth things over: “How about we all have dinner together? We can catch up. Julian, what do you say?” Julian glanced at me, his eyes indifferent. “I don’t make a habit of catching up with ex-wives.” He turned and strode away. Serena chased him for a few steps, then turned back. “You’re not back to snatch Lily from me, are you?” “No. I’m back to get married.” She gasped briefly. “You’re getting married?” Her shock was understandable. Julian and I had been divorced for two years, and they still hadn’t registered their marriage or held a wedding. And I was once again ahead of her. But she unusually breathed a sigh of relief. “Congratulations! Have you set a date?” “The eighth of next month.” She hesitated for a moment, then asked, “You haven’t told our parents about this, have you? Why don’t you ask for their opinion?” “We’ll see.” However, that evening, I received a call from my parents, asking me to come home. The moment I walked in, Brenda’s face was drawn as she demanded: “Why are you back? Didn’t you act so tough when you left, saying you’d never return?” “And who are you marrying? What’s his family like? Does he know you’ve been married and have a child?”

I once thought home was a safe harbor. But all the storms I’d weathered over the years were brought by this very home. Parents usually wish their children well, but my biological parents were experts at rubbing salt in my wounds. Though I already knew they disliked me, hearing those words, I couldn’t help but feel my eyes redden, a suffocating pain pressing down on me. Seeing me silent, Serena quickly pulled Brenda away, but her words were directed at me: “Scarlett, just say something. Mom’s just looking out for you. If he doesn’t know, you should tell him soon.” I curled my lips, my voice laced with sarcasm: “Don’t compare him to you all. You don’t deserve it.” As I spoke, my parents simultaneously yelled: “What are you saying?” “Say that again!” At the same time, Julian’s voice echoed: “What’s going on?” Following the sound, I saw Julian standing at the stair landing, holding Lily’s hand. Serena went up to him, naturally took Lily’s hand, and said to Julian: “Julian, Scarlett is getting married.” Julian’s voice was as indifferent as ever. “Oh, congratulations.” Serena: “That’s what I said too, congratulations on finding true love. By the way, Scarlett, why didn’t you bring your boyfriend back today?” “Dinner isn’t necessary, he’s very busy.” I placed our wedding invitation on the coffee table. “Here’s our invitation. Whether you come or not is up to you.” “And please, don’t call me back unless it’s really necessary.” As I turned to leave, my eyes met Lily’s. I paused. She moved her lips, as if saying, “Mommy.” I clenched my hand, and after tens of seconds of inner struggle, I expressionlessly shifted my gaze and walked away.

While waiting for Asher White at the apartment complex entrance, a car slowly pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Julian’s sharp, cold face. “Get in.” I politely refused. “No, thank you. My boyfriend is coming to pick me up.” He let out a soft laugh. “Scarlett, didn’t you do some research?” I was puzzled. “Research what?” “Bigamy is illegal.” “We’re already divorced.” “Are we?” He casually tapped the steering wheel with his long, slender fingers, speaking lazily, “What if I never signed the papers?” I could barely believe my ears. “What did you say?” He answered evasively, “Get in the car.” I didn’t move, trying to calmly talk to him. “Why didn’t you sign?” Julian rested one hand on the car window, looking relaxed and defiant. “Want to know? Then get in.” They say some people’s love is only a fraction, yet they pretend it’s overflowing to make you fall. Julian was one of those people. Even though we were divorced, he still acted like a victim. “Julian,” I said, fixing my gaze on him, “you’re not still hung up on me, are you?” At my words, a flicker of astonishment crossed his deep dark eyes, quickly vanishing. It was replaced by sarcasm. “Do you deserve that?” “Oh? Then why haven’t you married Serena yet?” He smiled faintly, his eyes devoid of warmth. “Not playing innocent anymore?” I was taken aback. “What?” “You’ve been asking around about when Serena and I are getting married. Wasn’t that because you wanted to get back together with me?” I didn’t deny it. Recently, I had indeed been inquiring about him and Serena. But not for the reason he suggested. I wasn’t looking to reconcile; I was coming back to fight for Lily’s custody. Because not long ago, I received an anonymous email containing a recording of a conversation between Serena and my biological mother. Serena said: “Mom, Scarlett is already getting remarried. Why hasn’t Julian married me yet? Do you think he doesn’t love me anymore?” My biological mother replied: “If he doesn’t love you, who would he love? You just overthink things.” Serena: “For the past three years, he’s been so focused on the child; he hasn’t spent much time with me.” “You’re silly, why don’t you use some tactics? If all else fails, just have his son, and he won’t even look at that girl again.” “But I said I didn’t want to have children…” “Wasn’t that just a lie to prevent Julian and Scarlett from having lingering ties? Just listen to me, have a son for him as soon as possible, and secure your position through your child.” Serena was swayed and remarked, “Mommy is so good to me. Back then, I thought that once Scarlett came back, you would all favor her.” “Don’t overthink it. There’s a difference between your biological child and the one you raised yourself…” The recording ended there. That night, I stayed awake until dawn. Finally, I made a decision. I was going to get my child back. Before returning, I had planned everything. The one thing I hadn’t expected was that Julian hadn’t signed the divorce papers. “You have one minute to think about it.” Julian cut off my thoughts. I lowered my gaze to him. “What exactly do you want?” He still didn’t answer directly. “Lily wants to go to the amusement park. I’m busy tomorrow; you take her.” The refusal died on my lips. Julian’s cunning eyes were sharp and perceptive; nothing could be hidden from him. “Tomorrow morning at nine. Don’t disappoint her.”

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When they told me I was the real heiress, I was already 45. Married, with three kids. The day I was supposed to return, before seeing my elderly biological parents, I overheard a conversation between my biological younger brother and the fake heiress: “Why bother bringing her and those mutts back? She’s been out there for decades; who knows what she’s become, what kind of man she married, or what kind of no-good degenerates her kids are?” “You’re the only sister I’ve ever known…” Mutts? No-good degenerates? Were they talking about my son, a celebrity who’s been a household name since he was 20? Or my twin daughters, who enrolled in an elite university’s accelerated program in their early teens? I was 45 when the police department informed me that my biological parents had finally found me. I stood there stunned for a long time after hearing the news. I found out I wasn’t their biological child when I was 20. My adoptive parents said they found me as a newborn, just a few days old. They initially tried to find my family, so my information was always in a DNA database. But after years with no news, they legally adopted me. Now, decades later, I was told I was born into a prominent family. How could a wealthy family abandon their child? There had to be some hidden secret I didn’t know about. My husband was currently on a business trip abroad, and my son was busy with his national concert tour. So, it was my two daughters who specifically took time off from school to accompany me to meet my blood relatives. “Mom!” “Mom, mom, mom…” My 15-year-old girls chattered excitedly. Soon after we met, all I heard were repeated calls of “Mom.” It was quite a twist of fate. When my son was four, Julian and I discussed having a second child, preferably a boy and a girl, but two boys would also be fine. When I got pregnant and went for a check-up, it turned out to be twins. I spent my entire pregnancy on edge, terrified I’d end up a mom to three boys – it felt like the equivalent of raising three wild wolves at home. Thankfully, they were two girls. Just as rambunctious, though. But adorable. Raising three healthy, beautiful children took a lot of effort, but at least they all turned out successful. When Caleb was little, his celebrity aunt took him to a film set. A director spotted him and cast him in a child role, and since then, acting offers kept pouring in. Julian and I saw that our son loved it, so we let him pursue it. After all, it’s good to develop in every aspect. Later, he picked up other talents; now he’s a triple threat: singing, dancing, and acting. As for his two younger sisters, they’re like Julian and me—smart. That kind of intelligence clearly superior to other kids their age. They skipped grades from a young age and are now both in an elite university’s accelerated program. “Ms. Hayes, please step into the car.” It was a chauffeur sent by my biological parents, and the car was a luxury model. Chloe and Maya were used to riding in similarly priced cars, but they still excitedly looked around, chattering away. “Mom,” Chloe poked me, “you’re going to meet your biological parents. I heard they’re really rich. Aren’t you excited?” “…” Just their childlike enthusiasm. They’d been studying for ages and finally got a chance to go out. They were treating the Maxwell family visit more like a fun trip to an acquaintance’s home. But from an adult perspective, if they really cared, they wouldn’t have just sent a chauffeur.

Julian, my husband, messaged me, asking if I’d arrived at the Maxwell estate. He also sent over some information about the family. Along with several pictures of designer handbags. He asked which ones I didn’t like, so he wouldn’t bring those back as gifts from his trip. Neither of us was taking this “reunion” very seriously. Of course, if this had happened when I was in my early twenties, I probably would have been more emotionally volatile. But I was 45. My adoptive parents raised me from infancy until their deaths, never waiting for anyone to claim me. I already fully belonged to one family and had built my own. The pursuit of my original family had dwindled in importance over the years. We arrived at the Maxwell family mansion. My two daughters and I got out of the car. Mr. Jenkins, the family’s butler, came to greet us. He looked at me with a hint of surprise but didn’t say much. “Miss Seraphina, please allow me to show you the way.” The way he addressed me was… telling. Clearly, someone else had been called “Miss Eleanor” for over forty years, making me the “Miss Seraphina.” Even more intriguing, the butler led us not to the main hall, but to what appeared to be a side parlor in the mansion. Before we even got close, we heard voices. “I have no idea why Dad and Mom insisted on bringing her and those mutts back. She’s been out there for decades; who knows what she’s become, what kind of man she married, or what kind of no-good degenerates her kids are?” “You’re the only sister I need, Eleanor. If this gets out, who knows what people will say about the Maxwells…” Mr. Jenkins cleared his throat. The conversation inside abruptly stopped. I was ushered forward, officially meeting the relatives I shared blood with. There were three people in front of me. My 40-year-old biological younger brother, Aaron Maxwell. I’d seen his picture before, and now, seeing him in person, he certainly had the polished, sharp look of someone groomed for wealth and power, a true product of an elite family. Next to him was Eleanor Maxwell, the fake heiress who had taken my place. She was elegant, like most society ladies. The young woman sitting beside Eleanor was likely her daughter, in her early twenties. Eleanor Maxwell – that was the name I was supposed to have. It wasn’t a bad name. But I felt no connection to it. The mix-up between us wasn’t her fault, of course, but her biological mother’s. Apparently, Evelyn Maxwell’s friend from decades ago, when Evelyn was happily married and pregnant with her first daughter, suffered a reversal of fortune. Her partner left her, and she found herself pregnant. Driven by a desperate desire to ensure her child would remain among the elite, she gave birth. It was also a girl. I don’t know the specifics of how the babies were swapped, but she took me and, instead of raising me, abandoned me. Back then, abandoning a female infant was tragically easy. But even with the truth now revealed, it changed nothing. Forty-five years, more than half a lifetime, had passed. Eleanor Maxwell’s biological mother had emigrated years ago and passed away a few years prior. Their scrutinizing gazes fell on me and my two daughters. I clearly saw the shock in all three of their eyes. They hadn’t bothered to learn much about me, naturally assuming that a mediocre middle-aged woman would show up today. Even as family, after decades of being “out there,” they expected me to be ordinary, vulgar, or perhaps bitter and resentful. But I wasn’t. I was very content with myself.

“Excuse me, are Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell not here?” I asked calmly amidst their silent appraisal. More than my siblings, I wanted to see my biological parents. Though the brother and sister had stopped their conversation, they didn’t seem to care whether I’d heard it. That deep-seated arrogance, I’d witnessed it many times before. Back when I was younger, just starting my career. By now, very few people dared to look at me or my children with such disdain. “Mom and Dad aren’t feeling well; they’re still at the sanatorium today, but they should be on their way back,” my biological younger brother said. He looked at me and finally introduced himself. “I’m Aaron Maxwell, your biological younger brother.” He then introduced the others: “This is my sister, Eleanor Maxwell, and this is her only daughter, Isabelle Thorne.” The scene was eerily awkward. After about two seconds of tense silence, Eleanor was the first to act. She stood up, walked over, and took my hand, speaking earnestly: “Sister, you’ve suffered all these years.” My gaze fell on her well-manicured hand, adorned with a dazzling, massive diamond ring. In contrast, the wedding band on my left ring finger had no pavé diamonds, looking pathetically plain. I hadn’t suffered, not really. It was just thinking about the truth behind my background that left a bitter taste in my mouth, a deep sense of unease. “Izzy, these are your aunt and cousins. Say hello,” I heard the woman holding my hand tell her daughter. Then, the equally polished and impeccably dressed young lady reluctantly said, “Aunt.” Her eyes weren’t even looking at me. Her arrogance surpassed her mother’s. It was simple: her mother was the fake heiress, but *she* wasn’t. The Maxwells were undoubtedly one of the wealthiest families in the area, and Eleanor Maxwell’s husband naturally came from a family of equal standing. Aaron, my brother, now held a position of power within the Maxwell corporation. He said: “We’ll host a welcome dinner for you tonight. Mr. Jenkins will show you to your rooms to rest soon.” He kept me in the side parlor for a few extra minutes, though. My biological younger brother told me, “No matter what happened in the past, it’s over now. My sister is a victim too. If Dad and Mom hadn’t had everyone in the family tested on a whim this year, we would never have known about this.” He explained that after discovering the daughter they’d raised for years wasn’t their biological child, my parents immediately reported it to the authorities. Because my information had been in the DNA database all along, they were able to contact me quickly. The search process wasn’t difficult at all; in fact, it was surprisingly simple. Compared to other families who had lost children. “My sister has been with us since birth. She’s always been a Maxwell, not to mention she’s Mrs. Thorne. The one who made the mistake was her biological mother, not her.” They clearly had a strong bond, these two siblings. I smiled at him and asked a question: “She’s a victim, but what exactly did she lose in these 45 years?” Aaron opened his mouth, but no words came out. “The one who was abandoned and nearly died was me.” I only said that much, but it was far from the whole truth. She had enjoyed a life of luxury that rightfully belonged to someone else, claimed my family, and in doing so, received an excellent education and an enviable marriage. Forty-five years of usurpation – how long is a person’s life, really? And how many people don’t even live past 45? Had I endured a life of hardship and instability, this 45-year-delayed truth would undoubtedly have been a double torment, both mentally and physically. Could my good fortune somehow cancel out the harm done to me?

I met my biological parents in the evening. The moment I saw them, I understood why Aaron and Eleanor had looked so startled when they first saw me. I looked very much like my biological mother, Evelyn Maxwell. I could even see my own reflection, twenty years in the future, on Evelyn’s face. “Seraphina, my daughter.” She tremblingly touched my face, and she and my biological father looked me over. The sheer resemblance was enough to confirm our relationship. This scene was quite emotional; even though I didn’t care much, a pang of sadness still welled up inside me. They were curious about my past, especially Evelyn. Her face, even with fine lines etched on it, held an unnamed hope. A hope that her culpable friend had given me up for adoption to a good family. “My adoptive parents found me in a remote suburb. I was close to dying then,” I said calmly. The faces of those around us shifted. Clearly, Eleanor Maxwell’s biological mother hadn’t intended for me to survive and cause trouble for her biological daughter. At this moment, Eleanor and her daughter weren’t present. I briefly talked about my life over the years. Nothing particularly noteworthy—adopted, went to school, worked, married, had children, all in due course. From their perspective, it was a relatively ordinary life. “Seraphina, I know you’ve suffered out there, but this matter isn’t suitable for public knowledge. We don’t want outsiders making our family a laughingstock.” Richard Maxwell, my biological father, spoke. “Although Eleanor isn’t your mother’s or my biological child, she’s been our daughter for decades. She’s also Mrs. Thorne now, and her biological mother has passed away. If this gets out, it will affect both families.” He paused, then continued, “We’ll tell everyone we took you in as our goddaughter because of fate. We’ll bring your children back too. How about your mother and I compensate you in other ways?” Before I could react, my older daughter, Chloe, spoke up: “If you weren’t planning on acknowledging my mom, then why bother finding her in the first place?” Her tone was not good. The two girls had been whispering to each other all afternoon, clearly dissatisfied with the family’s attitude. Aaron Maxwell’s voice cut in: “Who said you could interrupt when your elders are speaking? Where are your manners?” He looked down on my daughters. In other words, he looked down on me. It was rare for my two girls to have their manners questioned. Maya also spoke up for her sister: “You’re not being fair, and we can’t say anything? My mom is the victim, but you’re protecting the daughter of the one who harmed her.” “Seraphina Hayes, is this how you raise your daughters?” Aaron’s face flushed with anger, and he stood up, glaring at me. I looked at him calmly: “My daughters have excellent manners. They don’t stay silent when their mother is being bullied. And you? By what right do you presume to lecture my daughters? As their uncle?” “I was never raised by my biological parents,” I looked at Evelyn and Richard. “And my daughters have never received any care from you. Even as guests here today, we certainly don’t deserve to be criticized and lectured by someone using their ‘elder’ status, do we?” One sentence turned the faces of the three of them white, then red.

“Aaron, apologize to your sister!” Richard Maxwell glared at his son. Over forty and being told by his own father to apologize to someone else, this heir to a prominent family seemed to lose face. “What did I say wrong? All of this is someone else’s fault! Aren’t we victims here?” Aaron said coldly, “If she’s so full of resentment, why even come back?” Why come back? Good question. I didn’t bother with whether Aaron would apologize or not. Instead, I looked at my so-called parents and asked very seriously, “What kind of compensation were you referring to earlier?” Upon hearing this, Aaron revealed a “just as I expected” expression, and the contempt in his eyes reappeared. My elderly but distinguished parents, however, remained relatively calm. Evelyn took out two cards. “Seraphina, this card has five million dollars, which you can use as you wish. The other is my supplementary card; you can use it for your daily expenses. Also, if you’re willing, you can move back into the house, or we can arrange a place for you.” Five million, a supplementary card, a house. For an average working-class family, this might indeed be a sincere offer of compensation. But from Aaron’s expression, it was clear he didn’t think much of these offerings. Five million was less than the luxury car that brought me here. Not to mention, it paled in comparison to the money they had spent on their other two children. They didn’t see a hint of joy on my face, nor the expected reaction on my twin daughters’ faces. I smiled. “I thought compensation, at the very least, should be comparable to what your other children received. Like company shares, for example.” Aaron immediately became agitated. “Seraphina Hayes, don’t be so greedy! You just got back and you’re already demanding shares?” “Isn’t this what I should rightfully receive?” I retorted, “I heard Eleanor also has 5%. Shouldn’t I have at least as much as her?” “Dad, Mom, you see? I told you! She only came back for the Maxwells’ money!” I found it amusing. “If you don’t care about money, why are you so agitated?” “You—” According to what I’d gathered, the Maxwell Group was still largely under Richard Maxwell’s control; he hadn’t fully transferred his shares and equity to his son. Eleanor was never the elders’ preferred heir. Although she held a position in the Maxwell Group, it was mostly honorary. Everyone assumed the succession would primarily fall to Aaron. My recognition as a biological daughter meant one more person to divide things among. Eleanor had no standing to object, but Aaron did. Clearly, when it came to their own interests, no one could sit still. “Enough,” Richard Maxwell finally spoke. “Seraphina, take these for now. The other things can’t be sorted out immediately. Let’s just have the welcome dinner for you and the children first.” It was his way of ending the discussion. He didn’t say yes, nor did he say no, dangling a carrot to keep us intrigued. The Maxwell family’s welcome dinner was merely a family affair. As they had said, they didn’t intend to make my identity public, nor would they publicly reveal Eleanor’s true identity. As people age, the reunion with their biological child brings a certain sentimentality. Moreover, the appearance of my daughters and me wasn’t exactly embarrassing. But wanting both their biological daughter and grandchildren close, *and* wanting peace and prosperity for the family? Such a perfect scenario was impossible.

I scanned the people present. Besides my biological parents, there was Aaron Maxwell and his family of three – his wife and middle-school-aged son – as well as Eleanor Maxwell’s family of three. Her husband, Robert Thorne, the head of the Thorne family, was also there. The rest were just me and my two daughters. They weren’t shy at all. Even in this environment, where they clearly weren’t entirely welcome, they were perfectly at ease. This was due to their personalities and their upbringing. The Maxwell family chose to protect Eleanor’s identity, partly for their reputation and partly because they had to consider the Thorne family, their in-laws of over twenty years. Even though Eleanor and Robert were both in their forties, their intertwined interests ran deep, and they had a daughter together. Regardless of whether there was love when they married, social standing was certainly a factor. Announcing now that the wife of many years was a fake heiress would cause both families to lose face. So, considering their combined interests, they decided to slight me, the daughter they’d just found and with whom they had no real emotional bond. At 45, no matter how emotional one might be, it’s hard to be as naive as in youth, to blindly believe in “blood ties” or “family.” It was hard to develop deep feelings for them. They probably just couldn’t fool me anymore. The dinner table was interesting, a lavish feast. A ridiculous semblance of peace was maintained, under the guise of a happy occasion. It was essentially a group of middle-aged people trying to appease two elderly ones. Aaron and his wife, Vivian, were clearly unwelcoming. Their son, Sam, and Eleanor’s daughter, Izzy, were good friends, sitting together in a clear alliance. As for Eleanor’s identity, it seemed less critical now. Even she was confident that her situation wouldn’t worsen just because she wasn’t a biological Maxwell. So, they didn’t pay much mind to me, the “real heiress.” “Seraphina, I heard you also have a husband and a son. Where are they? For such an important reunion, why didn’t they come along?” It was Eleanor’s voice. I paused, noticing everyone else’s eyes on me. “They’re both busy with work right now and couldn’t spare the time,” I replied. “Work?” Vivian Maxwell, Aaron’s wife, exclaimed, “Eleanor, I heard your son is only 20. He’s already busy with work? Did he not even get a college degree?” “No, he didn’t,” I said, stating the truth. That kid was only in his second year of university. He was so busy with work that the leave he’d taken from school was so long, I worried he’d be asked to leave. I saw some of them exchange knowing, almost mocking smiles. “Well, there’s no need for a child to start working so young. Why not have him come back to the family company? We can arrange a position for him?” Eleanor’s daughter, Izzy Thorne, who had been quiet until now, spoke up: “Doesn’t Uncle Aaron’s company require at least a bachelor’s degree for most hires now?” “Not at all, there are some positions that don’t depend on academic qualifications,” Aaron and his niece chimed in, exchanging a glance at me. “I just don’t know if my ‘sister’ here would even consider those roles. If not, we can arrange something for your husband too.” I looked at Richard and Evelyn Maxwell, the heads of the family. They nominally scolded their children twice, but it was just lip service. “No, thank you,” I gave them a chilly smile. “They’re doing perfectly fine as they are.”

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My boyfriend Eman Foster lost his memory after a car accident, forgetting everything about me, Audrey Moore. Every day I cried until my eyes were red and swollen, praying he would remember our past. Yet he tenderly took his first love Emilia Sanders’ hand and told me that Emilia was the only true love of his life. On the day of his wedding to Emilia, I stood before him in a wedding dress, asking him one last time if he could remember me. However, his noble and stern face was filled with disdain as he said coldly, “Audrey, do you know how disgusting it is that you keep pestering me like this?” I was dragged out by security amid everyone’s mocking laughter. Completely heartbroken, I chose to go abroad to pursue scientific research. I thought I would never cross paths with him again in this lifetime. But on the very day I left, he recovered all his memories. ***** [Today is Eman and my wedding. I hope you can attend.] Looking at the words on the invitation, I smiled bitterly. The groom was Eman, the bride was Emilia. But who could have imagined that just a month ago, Eman was still my boyfriend. Because of a sudden car accident, he lost his memory. He forgot me, but somehow only remembered that Emilia was his first love whom he loved but couldn’t have. I stayed at the hospital caring for him day and night for seven whole days. But the first thing he did when he woke up was call Emilia to tell her he had always loved her deeply. For the past month, I’ve been like a fool, doing everything I could to awaken his memory. I desperately recreated all the familiar scenes from our past, even begged Eman’s parents to explain our relationship to him. In the end, all I got was Eman’s cold warning: “If you continue using these despicable tactics to disturb my girlfriend and my life, I’ll consider taking legal action against you.” I asked the doctor in anguish, “Is this kind of memory loss really irreversible?” The doctor just shook his head regretfully, telling me everything was up to fate. But we had loved each other for three whole years, sharing over a thousand days and nights together. How could I just let go? We had already met each other’s parents, gotten engaged, and even chosen our wedding dress. Yet he personally told me he was going to marry someone else. How could I find peace with that? I clutched my head in pain, trying to convince myself this was all just an illusion. But my phone kept vibrating, constantly reminding me of reality’s existence. I mechanically opened the chat window to find a screen full of congratulatory messages. To announce his love for Emilia to everyone, Eman had made a grand spectacle of telling everyone around him about the wedding—everyone except me, his ex-girlfriend. I had apparently become an unspeakable stain in his life, something to be avoided at all costs. If Emilia hadn’t personally sent me that invitation, I wouldn’t have even known they were getting married today. The bridal shop clerk called: “Miss, the wedding dress you and your husband custom-ordered last month is ready. Is it convenient for you to pick it up now?” I held the phone in a daze for a long time. Just as I was about to refuse, I remembered that it was the wedding dress Eman had personally chosen for me. In my moment of near despair, a glimmer of hope quietly emerged. If I wore this wedding dress to see him, would he remember me again?   The answer was no. When I walked into the wedding hall, the pastor was reading the vows to the bride and groom. Seeing me dressed up in full wedding attire, people around me cast puzzled and strange looks in my direction. A flicker of panic crossed Emilia’s face, but after noticing Eman’s increasingly cold expression, her eyes turned mocking. I stopped in front of Eman, and before I could even speak, he furiously tore off my veil and threw it hard on the ground. He said, “Audrey, do you know that today is the most important day of my life? You deliberately dressed like this to disgust me, didn’t you? “Or are you still clinging to those unrealistic fantasies, thinking I’m still your boyfriend? “Well, let me tell you—that will never happen in this lifetime!” I was so stung by these vicious words that I couldn’t speak. I wanted to explain, but suddenly realized that in everyone else’s eyes, I looked like a homewrecker trying to break up someone’s marriage. Eman waved his hand, and several security guards immediately stepped forward to forcibly escort me away. As I struggled, I saw Eman tenderly pull Emilia into his arms, gently comforting her. I finally understood that Eman would never remember me again, and would never love me again. Wearing the heavy wedding dress, I was thrown out of the hotel. Because of Eman’s rough handling earlier, my hair was disheveled and messy. Winter had just passed, and though it should have been the warm spring season with blooming flowers, fine snow began to fall outside. I sat on a stone bench by the roadside and couldn’t help but burst into tears. Only when I was exhausted from crying did I notice a black umbrella above my head. The man holding the umbrella asked nervously and awkwardly, “Miss, do you need help?” I mechanically shook my head, but still managed to croak out a thank you. Hearing my voice, he seemed startled. He frantically shoved the umbrella into my hands, threw down a coat, and fled in panic. I sighed helplessly. The grief I had just suppressed began to spread again. Looking so pathetic now, even strangers avoided me. My phone had automatically shut down from the cold temperature on the road. After returning home and plugging it in, I discovered my phone screen was full of messages from others. Friends called one after another. [Audrey, what’s this about Emilia saying you interfered with her and Eman’s marriage? Isn’t Eman your boyfriend?] [The video of you crashing the wedding has been posted online, and everyone’s cursing you out. Please text me back!] I collapsed exhausted on the sofa, but when I saw these messages, I was surprisingly calm. After collecting myself, I replied to my friend: [We broke up a month ago.] My friend was shocked. [But didn’t you two get engaged before? This…] I replied: [It’s all in the past. I’ll clarify this matter.] I found Eman’s post on Twitter, and the comment section was already flooded with people cursing me out. I left a comment below apologizing and explaining that for the past month, it had all been my wishful thinking trying to win him back. [I hereby solemnly declare that I will never disturb Eman and Emilia’s life in any way from now on.] After typing out this statement word by word, I deactivated my social media accounts. This way, I could at least face my former lover with a clear conscience. My friend called frantically asking, “Do you know how much cyberbullying you’ll face by doing this? “Emilia is already a somewhat famous influencer. Don’t you know how terrifying influencer fans can be?” I just smiled and answered, “I know.” I was afraid of cyberbullying too. But what I feared more was the version of myself that I could never get back.

When news broke that I, the mistress, had voluntarily apologized, the internet exploded with outrage. Netizens launched a crusade to “bring me down,” even starting to doxx my personal information. I anxiously scrolled through wave after wave of vicious comments. I’d already switched phone cards several times, yet I kept receiving malicious texts from unknown numbers—one wave after another, impossible to defend against. Just when I was nearly drowning in despair, my advisor Alivia Graham called me. I answered the phone with dread, expecting Alivia to condemn me like everyone else, to tell me I wasn’t worthy of being her student. But to my surprise, Alivia’s voice was filled with concern and heartache from the moment she spoke. She said, “Audrey, I know what kind of person you are. We all saw how things were when you and Eman were dating. That bastard doesn’t deserve your tears over what he’s done now. “I’m only going to ask you one thing—if you’re willing, I’ll take you to Germany to our research lab immediately. You can focus on your research and forget about that bastard Eman.” I listened to Alivia’s words with overwhelming gratitude and agreed without hesitation. Her excitement was immediate: “Wonderful! Having a brilliant student like you who speaks four languages fluently will be a tremendous asset to our lab and our country! I’ll start processing your visa right now—we leave in three days.” After hanging up, my anxious heart finally began to settle. Just as she said, even though my reputation had hit rock bottom, once I left this place, those cyberbullies would never find me again. With this thought, I unconsciously quickened my packing, and my mood began to lift. When I came across photos Eman and I had taken together, a flash of nostalgia crossed my heart, but ultimately, I packed them all into a large suitcase. I was methodically organizing my belongings, working with renewed energy, when I suddenly heard the sound of a key turning in the lock. My heart jumped as I looked toward the door with alarm, instinctively grabbing a wooden stick nearby. Emilia walked in, and seeing the scattered items throughout the room, a flash of jealousy crossed her eyes. She waved her hand lightly, and several burly men immediately barged in behind her. I instantly sensed danger and quickly hid my phone behind my back, secretly pressing the power button five times. My voice trembling, I asked her, “What do you want, coming to my home?” Emilia dangled the keys in her hand, her smile suddenly turning twisted: “You’re pretty good at handling this situation, aren’t you? Apologize and then delete your account like that’s the end of it, making those people online turn around and attack me instead. “Audrey, do you think running away to another country will solve everything? Today, as Eman’s girlfriend, I’m going to teach you a proper lesson!” I looked up in terror: “I already apologized and admitted that I interfered with your relationship. The cyberbullying I’ve endured these past few days has been just as bad as yours…” But Emilia standing before me had bloodshot eyes, like an unhinged maniac who couldn’t hear a word I said. The men beside her suddenly pinned me to the ground. My phone slipped from my hand and was crushed underfoot. Her high heels pressed down hard on my hand, grinding back and forth against the floor. The pain nearly made me lose my voice. She then smashed the picture frames from my suitcase one by one. I was dragged and pressed into the scattered glass shards, my face streaked with blood, my heart desperately hoping someone would come to save me. Time crawled by, and the entire room was filled with nothing but my screams. Emilia pulled out her phone and took several photos of my face, her expression full of smug satisfaction: “I’ve cleared out this entire building. No matter how loud you scream, no one’s coming to save you. “Oh, and do you know who gave me the keys to this place?” I trembled as I opened my eyes to look at her. She said, “It was Eman.”   My eyes filled with tears, blood and tears streaming down together as my body felt both numb and agonizing. Just as those thugs began tearing at my clothes, the door was suddenly kicked open with tremendous force. A group of uniformed police officers rushed in, quickly taking control of everyone at the scene. I was pulled into a familiar embrace, hearing his anguished roar. “Call an ambulance! Ambulance!” “Audrey… you have to hold on…” But his voice gradually faded until I couldn’t hear anything clearly anymore. When I woke up again, only Alivia sat beside my hospital bed. Tears streaming down her face, she said, “Sweet child, we’re leaving the country tonight. I’ve already applied for a special talent subsidy from the government for you. Once we get to Germany, they’ll treat you with the best medicine available.” I vaguely remembered the man who had held me. Just as I tried to speak, I felt a sharp, stabbing pain in my throat. Alivia gripped my only intact left hand tightly, her face filled with grief and anger as she told me, “Those bastards shoved glass shards down your throat. If Caleb hadn’t arrived in time, the doctor said your voice would have been completely destroyed.” Caleb… I silently memorized this name in my heart, vowing to properly thank him someday. Just then, the hospital room door was pushed open. I stared in surprise at the familiar features of the man walking in. Finally, I remembered—he was the guy who had brought me an umbrella that day but got scared away. When Alivia saw him, her furrowed brow finally relaxed. She said, “Audrey, I don’t know if you still remember him? This is Caleb Gardner, a student one year below you, and now my most outstanding student. I used to have you guide him in experiments all the time.” Only then did I understand where that sense of familiarity came from. Caleb rubbed his hands together awkwardly, but when he saw my face covered in bandages, his eyes filled with heartache. The doctor said I couldn’t eat for 24 hours after surgery, couldn’t even drink water, and could only survive on a few bottles of nutritional IV fluids. Although Emilia had broken my right hand, fortunately I was left-handed and could still continue doing experiments. I gestured a few times in the air with my left hand, and Alivia immediately understood, bringing over a notebook. I wrote on the paper: [Thank you, Caleb.] The man in front of me instantly turned red to his ears. I wrote another sentence: [What happened to those people?] Caleb immediately became serious again: “Don’t worry, those people have been detained by the police. Since you’re classified as national special talent, they’ll definitely receive heavy sentences.” “As for that woman who caused you to lose your voice,” a flash of ruthlessness crossed Caleb’s eyes, “her family paid five million dollars in bail and got her released temporarily. But don’t worry, we’ll make sure she pays the price she deserves.” The incident of a national-level special talent being beaten by criminals and suffering eighth-degree disability was reported by Alivia, causing outrage among high-ranking officials. To protect our safety, the government specially dispatched a military unit to escort our transfer. While waiting for the private jet, Caleb was worried I’d be bored and specifically turned on the TV for me to watch some news. The anchor had just finished introducing the nation’s latest scientific research achievements when an explosive headline suddenly popped up: [Breaking News: Million-Follower Beauty Influencer Revealed as Mistress] Before I could take a closer look, Caleb hurried in, wheeling me away: “Your injuries haven’t healed yet, you should limit screen time.” Only then did I realize that as a national-level special talent, my eyes were crucial, so I quickly closed them to rest. By the time the plane landed, I had completely forgotten about that news story. No matter how severe the injuries, they all need time to heal. Even with consultations from world-class specialists, my right hand and vocal cords couldn’t recover in the short term. But fortunately, my left hand and eyes were uninjured. As soon as the doctor allowed me to work, I threw myself non-stop into translating cutting-edge scientific research papers from various countries. Only in this kind of high-intensity work could I temporarily forget the pain of the past. However, I didn’t know that I thought I would never think of Eman again. But fate had to play a huge joke on me.

By the time Eman and his entourage rushed to New York Hospital, I had already boarded a flight to Germany. The elderly gentleman in the hospital bed was startled by the sudden intrusion of unfamiliar young people. Eman asked with his last glimmer of hope: “Excuse me, do you happen to know where the patient who was previously in this room went?” However, the old man suffered from Alzheimer’s disease, and all that greeted Eman was incoherent mumbling. After making numerous inquiries at the nurses’ station to no avail, Eman received the answer: the hospital had never admitted anyone by my name. After using his personal connections to access the admission records, Eman’s anxious heart finally settled. He thought: “Just as I suspected, this woman is still the same, always playing these games.” Yet he felt inexplicably restless and irritated. Even though he knew Audrey was deceiving him, why did his heart suddenly feel hollow and empty? Walking out of the hospital entrance, he dismissed his bodyguards and drove aimlessly by himself. Before he knew it, his car had stopped beside a familiar residential building. A feeling both familiar and strange compelled him to walk upstairs. He stopped in front of a door covered with police seals. That familiar atmosphere made him instinctively reach for his keys, wanting to open this door. Only then did he realize with shock: this was Audrey’s home. He broke out in a cold sweat, unable to believe it. Why was he so familiar with the route here? He even remembered every landmark along the way clearly. As if he had walked this path countless times before. When he had first discovered this key on himself, he thought it was one of Audrey’s pranks and casually tossed it aside. When Emilia asked about it, he didn’t think much of it and simply gave it to her. At this moment, something resembling the truth churned in his mind. Just as his head was splitting with pain, some memory fragments suddenly flashed. He couldn’t recall the circumstances of those scenes, but the person in the images was crystal clear. Every gesture, every smile—all identical to Audrey. He desperately tried to grasp these memory fragments, but in the end, his mind remained blank. He drove home in panic, and as soon as he entered, he urgently grabbed Emilia and asked: “That key I gave you the other day—where did you put it?” Emilia had just been released from the police station, and the key had long been confiscated by the authorities. Her heart skipped a beat, and her eyes darted away: “Eman, what do you want that key for? You’re not thinking of seeing that crazy woman Audrey again, are you?” Eman frowned: “It’s Audrey’s property after all. I should return it to her.” He had never noticed before that even though Emilia was supposed to be his girlfriend, whenever she spoke about Audrey, she always carried an inexplicable hostility. Emilia bit her lip: “I accidentally lost it. Why do you keep thinking about that key? Do you think I’m lying to you again? Do you think Audrey is your real fiancée?” Her tone mixed coquettishness with complaint. In the past, whenever she spoke like this, Eman would immediately drop any topic related to Audrey. But today’s Eman seemed like a different person. Seeing Emilia’s stubborn refusal to tell him, he walked straight into her room and began searching. Emilia rushed over to stop him, but how could a woman’s strength match that of a strong man? She was roughly pushed aside, fell to the ground, and began sobbing softly while enduring the pain. But Eman paid her no attention and continued ransacking the room, even dumping out the contents of the trash can. Just as Eman was about to reach the bottom layer of the closet, Emilia could no longer bear the pain and rushed forward to block him desperately. However, Eman seemed already certain of something and stubbornly pushed her away. Beneath layers of clothing, a criminal judgment document was revealed. 【Defendant: Emilia Sanders, female, 28 years old, suspected of intentional assault causing eighth-degree disability to the victim, criminally detained on February 26th…】 【Victim: Audrey Moore, female, 26 years old.】

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“Matt, are you really going to divorce Houston and study abroad?” In the quiet living room, Matt looked at Mrs. Houston’s shocked face across from him and nodded. “Yes, Mrs. Houston. As you know, I wasn’t the one who was supposed to marry her in the first place. For Houston, I was just an unexpected stand-in, a substitute when the real groom didn’t show up. Now that he’s back, she’s been so happy lately. It’s time for me to go.” Outside, a light snow was falling, creating a beautiful winter scene. He smiled lightly. “Studying abroad has always been my dream anyway.” ****** Mrs. Houston looked at the young man before her, remembering Houston’s wedding three years ago. Justin, who was supposed to be the groom, had fled abroad at the last minute. Just as Houston stood awkwardly on stage, red-eyed and unsure what to do, Matt had put on an ill-fitting suit and slowly walked up. He apologetically took the microphone and addressed all the guests: “I’m so sorry, there was traffic on the way. I’m late.” With that act, he had saved Houston’s dignity and the Houston family’s reputation. Mrs. Houston let out a long sigh, then asked uncertainly, “Will Houston agree to the divorce?” Matt shook his head with a smile. “I already got her to sign the divorce papers.” Two weeks ago, he had given her the divorce agreement. At the time, Houston was in a rush to finish work and meet Justin. She had signed without even looking and left. Now, in just seven more days, he would be able to get the official divorce certificate. He would be free. After all, the Houston family had a three-generation military background and couldn’t go abroad. So once he left the country, he and Houston would never have to see each other again. Just as Mrs. Houston was about to speak, a gentle female voice came from behind them. “Matt, what are you chatting about with Mom?” Matt turned around to see Houston, whom he hadn’t seen in days, walking towards them in a black evening gown that occasionally revealed her long legs. “…Houston.” Seeing her daughter approach, Mrs. Houston was about to step forward to scold her. “Why are you here?” With a mix of surprise and reassurance, Matt stood up, giving Mrs. Houston a pleading look to interrupt her. “I missed you, so I came by to pick you up,” Houston said, her eyes looking a bit guilty. In truth, she had come on purpose after finding out Matt’s whereabouts. After saying goodbye to the worried Mrs. Houston, the couple took their bags and left the Houston family home. On the way back, heavy rain pounded on the car windows, while inside was completely silent. Houston remained quiet for a long time before finally speaking. “Matt.” “Justin and I are really over. He just got back to the country and had heart surgery a few years ago, so his health isn’t good. As an old… friend, I just went to help him get settled. I hope you can understand.” Matt stared out the rain-blurred window and nodded. If only he hadn’t seen how Houston had dropped everything and excitedly rushed to meet Justin the day he returned. If only he hadn’t noticed Houston selling the watch she had used for years and replacing it with a cheap bracelet Justin had given her. If only… There were too many “if onlys.” Matt no longer had any expectations or trust left. A soft sigh filled the car. Faced with this husband she had married by chance years ago, Houston wanted to explain further. But thinking of her own actions over the past two weeks, she ultimately chose to change the subject. “Matt, what was that document you had me sign two weeks ago?” As soon as she finished speaking, Matt turned to look at Houston, his eyes showing three parts surprise and seven parts bitter amusement. She was only now remembering to ask about that? Then again, ever since Justin came back, everything else in her life had faded into the background. How could she be expected to care about anything else? Matt was about to speak when Houston’s phone suddenly rang. Seeing the name displayed on the car screen, Houston’s face instantly tensed up. “It’s fine, go ahead and answer. It might be something important,” Matt said, looking out the window with an indifferent expression that made Houston suddenly feel afraid. But she still answered the call, with the car’s speakers automatically broadcasting the conversation. “Houston, I miss you so much. It hurts. Can we meet?” Hearing the whiny tone on the other end, Houston’s knuckles turned white as she gripped the steering wheel. Her expression also suddenly turned cold. “Justin, I’m married now. I’ve told you many times, don’t talk to me like that!” There was a moment of silence on the other end before Justin replied, “But Houston, I was supposed to be the groom at that wedding.” The car suddenly screeched to a halt in the middle of the road, the tires making a huge noise as they skidded on the pavement. In their three years of marriage, this was the first time Matt had seen Houston lose control. She shouted at the screen: “But you left! You abandoned me and left!” The phone went completely silent. A moment later, Justin’s voice came back sounding choked up: “I’m sorry. I was sick at the time and didn’t want you to worry. I had no idea it would have such serious consequences.” “Ah! Houston! My heart hurts so much. It’s okay, just let me die like this. Then I won’t bother you anymore, and you can live happily with my substitute.” Soon, there was no more sound from the other end. Houston instantly panicked. She immediately looked at Matt. Matt spoke up first: “It’s fine, I’ll take a taxi home. You go check on him. Don’t let anything really happen.” Houston still felt somewhat guilty and said softly, “I’m not going to see him. I just remembered there’s an urgent matter at the company, so I need to stop by there.” “I’ll come back to be with you after I finish.” Matt nodded and opened the car door to get out. Watching her car speed away, Matt stood in the rain holding an umbrella, his eyes darkening. A moment later, he gave a bitter smile and started walking towards home, over ten miles away. Three years. It was time to end it. Three years ago, he had put on that ill-fitting suit and married a woman who could barely remember his name. Friends and relatives privately said Matt was pitiful, just a stand-in for his wife’s true love. But in the three years since, they had shared romantic moments together and dreamed of the future. Matt had thought he had melted the heart of this so-called ice queen. But now, Matt clearly knew he had been wrong. If that was the case, he should return to where he truly belonged and give back this position as Mr. Houston. It would fulfill Houston’s wishes. And free himself as well. Lightning split the night sky, followed closely by torrential rain that swept through like a tidal wave. It also washed away the last of Matt’s feelings for Houston.   Matt slept alone that night. By noon the next day, Houston still hadn’t returned. When he woke up, it was still raining outside. Matt stayed at home, calmly deleting all the posts about their married life from his social media accounts. Just as he finished cleaning everything up, he saw that Justin, who had been threatening to die yesterday, had suddenly posted on social media: “What’s it like to be doted on by your ex-girlfriend?” He included a grid of nine photos. In the first, the usually cold and indifferent Houston was in his arms, feeding him porridge. In the second, the normally aloof Houston was sitting by his bedside, holding his hand. In the third, the usually proud Houston was kneeling in front of him, her eyes full of concern as she helped him take medicine. The fourth showed a pile of luxury goods, each worth millions. Justin had captioned it: “Thanks to Houston’s connections, I’m not angry or upset anymore.” In the photos, the handsome man smiled sweetly, looking like the happiest prince on a phone call. The comment section was full of envious remarks: “Left and experienced hardships, returned and it’s still true love. Justin, did you save the galaxy in your past life?” “No way! It must have been at least ten galaxies. Justin, how did you manage to make your ex still so devoted to you?” Besides the envy, there were naturally some who wanted to mock Matt. Matt just glanced over them briefly, a few comments catching his eye: “I wonder how Mr. Robin feels seeing all this?” “What could a mere substitute feel? Did he really think that by stepping in to save face as the groom, he could win the heart of the Houston family’s princess? He’s probably dying of jealousy right now. Want to bet how many minutes before this lapdog shows up?” “I bet 10 minutes!” “I bet 5 minutes!” “I bet 1 minute! He’s probably already downstairs. I’ll stake my new Lamborghini on it!” Many people eagerly joined in the betting, with the stakes getting higher and higher. But Matt just smiled resignedly. He would soon no longer be “Mr. Houston” in others’ eyes, so why chase after a woman who didn’t belong to him? So Matt quickly typed out a response on his phone: “I bet he won’t show up for a lifetime.” His words stirred up a storm, with many people immediately messaging to ask if he was joking. Matt simply turned off his phone and stopped looking at any messages. Instead, he turned to make himself a bowl of noodles. Just then, the phone suddenly rang. Matt didn’t answer, but the calls kept coming non-stop for five or six minutes before finally stopping. But soon after, the housekeeper Mrs. Bruce came in holding her own phone, looking troubled. “Sir, the young miss wants you to answer the phone.” Only then did Matt pick up the phone and answer. “Matt, it’s all a misunderstanding. I already made Justin delete those posts. Don’t overthink it. He was feeling very unwell yesterday, that’s why I didn’t come home. Nothing happened between us.” Houston’s anxious voice came through the phone. The moment she saw Matt’s comment, she had panicked. Matt looked at the noodles he had made and calmly said, “I made noodles. Are you coming home to eat?” Houston was stunned for a moment before replying, “I’m glad you’re not angry. You can eat the noodles yourself. Justin’s heart is hurting again, so I’m taking him to the hospital for a check-up. Don’t worry, we’re really just frie-” Before she could finish, Justin’s panicked voice came through on the other end. “Houston, where are you? I can’t see you. Did I lose you again? My heart feels so anxious.” The call was abruptly hung up, leaving only Houston’s urgent voice addressing the other end: “Justin, I’m right here. You didn’t lose me.” Looking at the ended call, Matt sent Houston a message: “That document you asked about yesterday is in the glove compartment on your side.” “Open it and you’ll see what it is.” It wasn’t until two hours later that Houston finally replied with one sentence: “No need. Whatever you had me sign, I’m sure it’s not to harm me.” This meant she wouldn’t look at it. Of course. Right now she just wanted to be by Justin’s side. Why would she bother looking at anything unrelated to Justin? Even though that divorce agreement was right within her reach. In the afternoon, Matt drove to follow a truck delivering supplies to the orphanage where he grew up. Matt had been an orphan since childhood, raised here. Seeing Matt arrive, the children were all very excited, running up to cling to him and share their experiences. After spending time with the kids, he went to the director’s office to say goodbye. “Mama Director, I’m going abroad for further studies.” The director was very happy. Matt had been a top student in physics at Tsinghua University, but had suddenly given up studying abroad for a flash marriage. She had been regretful about it for a long time. “Matt, that’s wonderful news.” The director held Matt’s hand, smiling with satisfaction. But then she thought of something and her expression turned worried. “But… you going abroad to study means you and Houston will be in a long-distance relationship. That can be very difficult.” Matt looked out the window at a few children playing and running around, shaking his head with a light smile. “It’s not a long-distance relationship. We’re getting divorced.” “Because… Justin came back.” The director was stunned at first, then let out a long sigh, feeling both regretful and relieved. “I guess I wasn’t wrong in my initial assessment. This marriage of yours was never going to last long. You see, once a person still has someone else in their heart, no matter how loving things seem on the surface, it’s all fake. As soon as that person comes back, the marriage is over. So it’s good that you’re divorcing.” She held Matt’s hand sympathetically, comforting him softly. Matt smiled back and hugged the director. Yes, it was good that it was ending.   After returning from the orphanage, Matt went to the civil affairs bureau and learned that in five more days he could finalize the divorce. Only then did he go home to pack his luggage. It was then that he realized his clothes filled several entire closets. Inside were also various expensive watches, sports car keys, and other priceless gifts from Houston. In truth, during their three years of marriage, Houston had always been good to him, constantly giving him black credit cards, houses, cars, and more. But he had never touched any of it. Because every time Houston gave him gifts, Matt would see the shadow of someone else in her reddened eyes. To be precise, Houston’s kindness to him was all stolen from Justin, who had temporarily exited the stage. He used to think that with time, Houston would see his true heart. But reality proved that what didn’t belong to him would eventually have to be returned. Matt sorted out some of his own belongings, then took all the gifts he had given Houston over the years and sold them for scrap. Over the years, to make her happy, he had carefully prepared many gifts for her. She had never even glanced at them. The only watch she ever wore was quickly replaced by a cheap bracelet from Justin after he returned. Seeing all these gifts tossed aside with a thick layer of dust on them, Matt smiled bitterly again. If Houston truly loved him, where did all this dust come from? Watching the junk truck drive away, he was about to return to the villa when he heard a horn honk behind him. Matt turned to see a flashy Ferrari stop in front of him. A girl in a red dress stepped out of the car with a showy air. It was his sister-in-law Jenny. Jenny frowned at the departing junk truck, then snorted disdainfully. “As expected of an orphan with no parents. Even cardboard boxes have to be sold for money. Acting like our Houston family is going bankrupt or something.” Matt didn’t even look at her, turning to leave. Jenny’s mocking smile turned to anger. She stepped forward to grab him. “Matt!” Ever since Matt had entered their Houston family, he had always been very humble and tried to please everyone. He had never given her the cold shoulder like this before. Today he actually dared to turn his back on her. A fire of rage instantly rose in Jenny’s heart. “Hey orphan! Are you deaf? I’m talking to you!” Matt turned back and pulled off her hand, his eyes flashing with annoyance. Jenny had always disliked him, feeling that someone of his background was completely unworthy of entering their prestigious Houston family. So for three years after the wedding, she had constantly targeted him, saying things like the breakfast he made wasn’t fully cooked, or stepping on the clothes he had washed to dirty them. But now that he was leaving, he didn’t want to tolerate her anymore. Jenny was about to continue making a scene, but seemed to think of something. The corners of her mouth curved up into a sneer. “Someone like you should sell more junk. After all, now that my sister’s true love Justin is back, you can get lost, you so-called stand-in.” As she finished speaking, a man in a white suit, dressed quite elegantly, stepped out from behind her. This was Matt’s first time seeing Justin in person. A pair of almond-shaped eyes brimming with charm, messy black hair casually swept back, porcelain white skin paired with the fitted white suit – just standing there exuded an aura of nobility. No wonder Houston had been so obsessed with him for all these years. But that suit, those accessories – Matt found them somewhat familiar. Wasn’t this style of dress exactly the same as what was in his own closet? In that moment, Matt fully understood. He really had just been a stand-in all along. Justin looked Matt up and down, as if seeing a cheap version of himself, full of disdain and mockery. But this expression was quickly hidden away when Houston’s car pulled in behind them. He immediately put on a pitiful face and said, “Jenny, don’t talk about Mr. Robin like that. He’s your brother-in-law now. What if he gets angry and kicks me out?” Just as he finished speaking, Houston’s panicked voice came from behind. “What’s going on? Who’s kicking who out?!” Houston hurried over. Her gaze fell on Justin standing there unharmed, and she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief before turning to address Matt. “Matt, Justin’s house has been empty for years and needs to be renovated. So could he stay with us for a few days?” Matt looked at Houston without speaking. In the silence, Justin’s expression became very uneasy and a bit pitiful. “Houston, maybe I should just leave. After all, it was my fault for not showing up at the wedding. Now you have a new husband, and Mr. Robin doesn’t seem to welcome me.” Houston looked at Matt, her face hesitating. Justin let out a long sigh, turning away dejectedly. Jenny immediately reached out to stop him. “Justin! Why are you leaving?! If anyone should go, it’s him. The real man of this house should be-” “Shut up, Jenny!” Houston snapped angrily. “Who said you could talk to Matt like that? He’s my husband and your brother-in-law. Apologize to him right now or get out!” Jenny’s eyes instantly reddened at this. Seeing the scene, Matt finally spoke up, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile. “It’s fine, you don’t need to scold Jenny. I didn’t refuse. Mr. Ford, please make yourself at home here.” After all, in five more days, this home would belong to Justin. There was no need to ruin the sisters’ relationship over an outsider like himself. With that, Matt turned and walked into the villa. “Hey orphan! Who said you could speak for me?! Am I wrong?! If my sister wasn’t the Houston family’s princess, would you have stepped up as the groom?!” Jenny’s defiant voice came from behind, followed by Houston’s scolding and Justin’s placating words. Hearing Jenny’s words, complex emotions surged in Matt’s eyes. This was his eighth year of loving Houston. He still remembered the scene when he first fell in love at first sight with her in the dance studio. She was wearing a ballet dress, her graceful movements making her look just like a proud yet noble and beautiful white swan. In that moment, his heart was captivated. But she was the Houston family’s princess, the darling of high society. As an orphan, Matt knew their backgrounds were worlds apart. But in the end, when he saw Houston red-eyed and at a loss standing on that stage, Matt instinctively went up. That feeling had nothing to do with status or benefits. He simply didn’t want to see the girl he liked cry. Seemingly afraid Justin would still leave, Houston immediately instructed the servants to move his luggage into the largest guest room. Jenny instantly strutted over to Matt, her nose in the air. “What are you standing around for? Go make dinner. Oh, and Justin can’t eat spicy food, so make it bland.” Hearing this, Justin’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he looked Matt up and down again. “I’ve heard Mr. Robin’s cooking is quite good. Then today I’ll have to trouble-” Before he could finish, Houston came down from the guest room upstairs. “Jenny, that’s enough! How many times have I told you, we have servants. Why do you always make Matt cook for you?” Justin’s expression soured, his glance towards Matt filled with hatred. But when Houston walked over, Justin immediately put on a different face, smiling. “I’ll cook today. I learned a lot of skills abroad these past years and have been wanting to make something for you all to try.” As he said this, Justin was looking at Houston. Houston’s eyes suddenly had a moment of haziness, but when she saw Matt standing quietly to the side, she still shook her head and said, “No need. Your health isn’t good. Let the servants-” Jenny latched onto her, grabbing Houston’s hand and saying, “Sis, just let Justin cook for us. He worked so hard to learn.” Houston seemed to think of something and finally nodded. “Alright, but don’t tire yourself out.” Matt watched all of this without saying a word, just standing by the floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the garden. Seeing Matt so quiet, Houston suddenly felt an increasing sense of panic. After a long silence, she walked to Matt’s side and softly said, “Matt, if you don’t like Justin staying here, I’ll send him back after this meal.” “No need. Let him stay if he wants.” Matt turned to look at Houston. “That document, have you looked at it?” Mentioning the document again, Houston’s brow furrowed slightly. “I haven’t looked yet. Didn’t I say I trust you? Do I really need to look at it?” Did she need to or not? Matt didn’t know. The signature was already there anyway. But thinking of their three years together… Matt was about to speak when Justin suddenly came over carrying a pot of hot soup. He glanced at Matt standing like a stranger beside Houston, his eyes flashing with intense jealousy. Then, pretending to stumble, he rushed forward towards Matt in a panic, spilling the entire pot of soup. “Watch out!”

“Watch out!” Seeing the hot soup flying towards him, Matt instinctively pulled Houston into his arms to protect her. Then he watched helplessly as a huge pot of scalding chicken broth poured all over him. “Ahh!” In an instant, Matt was drenched in soup, his skin immediately turning bright red from the burns. The searing pain nearly made him pass out. “Matt!” Houston pushed Matt away, her eyes full of panic. “Don’t be afraid, I’ll take you to the hospital right away!” He looked up at her, the pain spreading through his whole body. He used all his strength but couldn’t say a word. Then he looked at Justin. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Robin. Are you alright? Houston, thank goodness Mr. Robin protected you.” Seeing Justin’s fake panic and the satisfaction hidden in his eyes, Matt immediately realized what had happened and said shakily: “You did that on purpose?” Hearing this, Justin was stunned for a moment, then tears started falling from the grown man’s eyes. “Mr. Robin, what are you saying? How could I do that on purpose? I know you feel insecure and prejudiced against me. It’s my fault for making you get burned!” “But you can’t slander me like this.” Seeing Justin cry, Jenny resolutely stepped in front of him and angrily said: “Matt! That’s enough! So what if you got a little burn? Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Justin worked hard to cook for us, he’s tired enough already! Besides…” Jenny looked at Houston, whose eyes were now filled with doubt and anger, and raised her chin to continue, “Besides, my sister was right there. Even if Justin wanted to hurt someone, he’d never hurt my sister, right?” As soon as she finished speaking, the doubt in Houston’s eyes instantly disappeared. She looked at Matt with furrowed brows and said disappointedly, “That’s right, Matt. Justin wouldn’t hurt anyone, least of all me. Please don’t overthink things, okay?” Hearing these words, Matt felt countless emotions rushing to his head, tears welling up in his eyes. Houston sighed, her voice becoming calm. “Matt, let’s go to the hospital, alright?” Matt knew that no matter what else he said, Houston wouldn’t believe him now. He was about to nod when- “Oh no, Justin, you’re hurt so badly!” Jenny cried out. Houston’s attention immediately shifted. She rushed over to Justin in a panic. His snow-white arm had some small blisters, looking quite “severe” indeed. Justin put his arm behind his back, shaking his head with red-rimmed eyes. “I’m fine. Mr. Robin looks much worse. You should take him to the hospital first.” He had barely finished speaking when Houston turned back towards Matt. Justin immediately put on an agonized expression. “Ah! Houston! My heart hurts so much. It must be the shock of Mr. Robin accusing me just now. Ah, Houston…” Justin collapsed, grabbing Houston’s hand as she tried to support him. He gasped weakly, “Houston, am I dying? Will I never see you again?” Jenny stomped her foot anxiously. “Sis! Justin’s heart condition is bad. Let’s get him to the hospital quickly!” “I-I’m fine…” Justin continued gasping pitifully. But this act undoubtedly made Houston’s heart ache. She could no longer think about the disheveled Matt. She helped Justin up and headed for the door. Just before leaving, she seemed to remember something and turned back to Matt with a guilty look. “Justin’s heart is weak. I’m afraid something might happen to him. The hospital isn’t far from here.” “…Matt, you can take a taxi to the hospital yourself.” It wasn’t until their three figures had disappeared from view that Matt came back to his senses, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth as he fought against the pain. Seeing how severely he was injured yet left behind, the servants quickly ran over with painkillers and alcohol. But Matt’s burns were too severe. Even after taking the painkillers, he still had to lean against the wall for support, enduring the pain as he slowly made his way towards the hospital. With each step, he moved further and further away from the place he had called “home.”   At the hospital, the doctor used cotton swabs to carefully press down the blistered areas while asking Matt with concern why he was so severely burned yet had no family accompanying him. Matt inhaled sharply from the pain. Two other doctors passed by the doorway, chatting. “Miss Houston really dotes on her husband. Just a few small blisters and she booked the entire floor, getting all the dermatology specialists to consult.” “I know, right? Those few blisters would have mostly healed on their own if he’d come in a bit later. If only I could find a caring woman like that who loved me.” “Haha, dream on. Women like that only come along once in a blue moon.” Once in a blue moon? Matt smiled bitterly. Abandoning her severely injured husband to go take care of someone with minor injuries – she truly was a one-in-a-million good woman. Matt’s injuries were too severe. He needed to stay in the hospital for a few days. Three days later, Matt was finally discharged, his body still wrapped in bandages. As soon as he turned on his phone, countless missed calls and messages popped up, filling the screen. They were all from Houston. This had never happened since Justin’s return. While Matt was still in a daze, Jenny called. As soon as he answered, her shrill voice came through. “Matt, you’ve got some nerve! Where have you been for three days? Did you do it on purpose?! Can’t compete with Justin so you’re pulling this kind of stunt? Do you know my sister’s been going crazy looking for you?! Don’t think this will get her attention. Dream on! The position of Houston son-in-law will always belong to Justin!” After finishing her tirade, Jenny hung up. Matt just furrowed his brow. Had he heard wrong? Houston had been frantically searching for him? How was that possible? Wasn’t she busy taking care of Justin? Why would she look for him? But when Matt looked at the 999 missed calls on his phone, it did seem to show Houston’s urgency in trying to reach him. Filled with confusion, Matt returned home. As soon as he entered the gate, the servants rushed over looking immensely relieved. Several of them were on the verge of tears as they spoke. “Sir, you’re finally back. The young miss has been going crazy looking for you…” Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps approached. “Matt!” Houston anxiously ran over. In the three days apart, the usually glamorous woman looked rather haggard, especially the dark circles under her eyes. “I was in the hospital. The same one where you were taking care of Justin.” Hearing this, Houston sighed. “About last time, I didn’t mean to abandon you. It’s just that after Justin’s surgery, the doctors said he needed to stay calm and not get agitated, or something could happen. I’ve been used to taking care of him since we were kids, so that’s why I took him to the hospital first.” “And you didn’t object at the time either. Since you were at the hospital, why didn’t you tell me or answer my calls? You’re my husband. Don’t you know I’d be worried? Can you not do this again next time?” By the end, there was a hint of accusation in her tone. But Matt just looked at her calmly, not responding. Because in two more days, he would be gone. So there wouldn’t be a next time. For some reason, seeing Matt’s calmness, Houston suddenly felt panicked as she recalled Matt’s behavior these past few days. She stepped forward and took Matt’s hand, sighing, “Actually, Justin really didn’t mean to hurt you last time. Since you don’t want him staying here, I’ve already had him move out. Can you stop being upset over this little thing from now on?” Houston stared directly at Matt, hoping to see a trace of being moved in his eyes. But Matt had no reaction. He removed Houston’s hand and turned to go upstairs. As soon as he entered the room, he saw an expensive watch placed on the bed. He looked up questioningly at Houston who had followed behind. Houston sighed. “Matt, this is my way of making it up to you. You won’t be angry anymore now, right?” Matt looked at the watch in the box, worth millions, a complex look flashing in his eyes. Three years. A full three years. They had shared a bed, had happy times together. In her eyes, was he really the type of person to fake being angry and hurt just for compensation? Suddenly, he recalled the gifts Houston had carefully prepared for Justin in her social media posts. A mocking feeling welled up, but he quickly suppressed it. Forget it. If she didn’t understand, there was no point in explaining. Seeing no smile appear on Matt’s face, Houston didn’t think much of it, just assuming he didn’t like it. “Matt, if you don’t like these, once I’m done dealing with Justin’s situation, I’ll take you to an auction to pick out the most expensive one for you…” Houston hadn’t finished speaking when Jenny and Justin’s voices came from outside the door. “Justin, I told you my sister loves you so much, she’d never really make you move out. It’s all that Matt’s fault. I’ll scold him for you later. You’ll move back in, right?” As they spoke, the two brazenly walked into Matt and Houston’s bedroom. Then upon seeing the watch set on the bed, Jenny exclaimed in delight: “Oh my god, sis! Justin just mentioned to me that he really liked these watch models. I can’t believe you actually bought them!” She looked at Justin beside her, her eyes full of envy. Hearing this, Justin’s face instantly reddened, then he shot a smug look at Matt. Seeing that Houston didn’t immediately deny it, but instead looked hesitant, Matt didn’t even think before picking up the box and handing it to Justin. “If it’s meant for you, then take it.” With one sentence, he made the choice for Houston, resolving her dilemma. At this moment, Houston looked at Matt in shock. Seeing how generous he was being, the unease in Houston’s heart grew stronger. She wanted to object, but seeing how happy Justin looked, she closed her mouth. She thought to herself, it’s fine, next week is our wedding anniversary. She could make it up to Matt then. Surely she was overthinking things. He was just jealous and sulking. Matt loved Houston so much. How could he possibly leave?

Another day passed. There was just one day left before the divorce cooling-off period ended and Matt would receive the divorce certificate. Thinking that he could finally leave, he began mailing his luggage abroad. Halfway through packing, Houston called from the office, asking him to attend a high society party at the Houston family mansion. Matt wanted to refuse. With just one day left, their legal marriage was about to end. But thinking of how Mrs. Houston had taken care of him over the years, and that this was the last day after all, Matt wanted to find a chance to speak with Houston alone and explain things clearly. Though the marriage had begun in confusion, Matt wanted to end it with clarity. In the bustling Houston family estate, everywhere was brightly lit, with elites gathered, clinking glasses. But as soon as he entered, Matt didn’t see Houston. After asking around, he learned from an old Houston family servant that Houston was in a house to the north. Matt immediately headed in that direction. The door to the house was slightly ajar, with some suggestive sounds coming from inside. Matt suddenly felt a wave of nausea. His body trembled as he slowly peered through the door crack. Instantly, a jarring scene entered his eyes. On the sofa, Justin was roughly and urgently pulling at Houston’s evening gown while pinning her down. His large hands gripped Houston’s waist as he trailed kisses from her collarbone downwards. Houston tilted her head back with closed eyes, frowning. She seemed somewhat resistant, but didn’t push him away. Her expression was conflicted. “Houston! Promise me you won’t leave me.” Justin murmured. Houston’s eyes suddenly snapped open as she forcefully shoved him away. “Justin! What the hell is wrong with you?! I’m married! Why did you come back now? What exactly do you take me for? Something you can toss aside and pick up again whenever you feel like it? Do you know how afraid I am of being alone again?!” Houston was furious, but Justin wouldn’t listen. He stubbornly moved forward and embraced her waist again, pressing their bodies together. “Houston! I was wrong!” “Justin! Get lost!” Over and over, relentlessly. Finally, Houston gave in and surrendered. This time she didn’t let Justin come embrace her. She forcefully pulled Justin to her and bit down hard on his lip. Then their lips and tongues intertwined, inseparable. Moments later, the two finally parted. Justin wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and smirked triumphantly. Then he tilted up Houston’s chin. “So, do you still love me?” Matt watched from outside, feeling as if countless knives were stabbing his heart. Houston stood frozen for a long while. Eventually, she raised her head and looked at him with eyes full of restrained love. Her tone was one of surrender. The next moment, her red lips moved: “Yes!” With that, Justin’s eyes filled with smug satisfaction. He pulled her in for another kiss, then asked, “So, will you divorce that Matt and marry me?” Houston’s entire body suddenly went rigid. Abruptly, she recalled that wedding years ago that she couldn’t bear to remember. She thought of the figure who had resolutely stood up and walked steadily to her side amidst all the strange looks. “…I.” Houston turned her head, about to answer. But in that instant, she saw a pair of grief-stricken eyes gazing at her through the slowly opening door. All at once, darkness descended in Houston’s mind. Matt stood outside, calmly looking at her, tears streaming down his face. “—Matt!”   Matt couldn’t bear to watch anymore. He also didn’t want to know the answer. He turned and walked away. But the faster he walked, the more that scene replayed in his mind. Three years ago, they went on a honeymoon to a tropical island. Just because it was his first time at the beach and he glanced a second too long at some women in bikinis, Houston’s face instantly darkened. She dragged him back to the presidential suite and didn’t let him leave for seven whole days. After seven days, when they ran out of strawberry-flavored supplies, they moved on. When the bed and sofa broke, they used the floor. She held him in her arms again and again, eyes red with jealousy: “Matt, I have everything they have. Don’t look at other women. Don’t leave me.” He had to swear over and over before her jealousy finally subsided. Afterwards, Matt’s waist was sore for days, and she teased him about it for weeks. From that day on, he never dared to look at another woman again. But in his heart, he was overjoyed at Houston’s jealousy. Now, Matt finally understood. Her jealousy didn’t come from love. She was just afraid of being alone, afraid of standing helplessly on that stage again, not knowing what to do. He had thought that after deciding to leave, his heart would no longer be moved. Now… Matt felt suffocated with pain. He just wanted to get away from this place as quickly as possible. Never to see her again. Passing through the bustling area of the Houston mansion, Matt took a deep breath. He was preparing to make his way through the crowd and leave. “Matt.” A voice suddenly came from behind. The familiar tone made Matt stop in his tracks. Matt looked at the speaker, wanting to call her “Mom” but suddenly remembering something. In the end, he respectfully addressed her as “Mrs. Houston.” Hearing Matt’s form of address, Mrs. Houston sighed but didn’t say anything. She just handed Matt a new ID card. “Matt, I’ve taken care of all the procedures for you to emigrate and study abroad. From now on, the name Matt Xu will no longer be associated with you. You’ll have a completely new identity. Is there anything else you need me to do?” Matt looked at the stack of documents in his hand, feeling a great sense of relief. Perhaps thinking of the scene in that small house earlier. Or perhaps thinking of the brand new life and identity awaiting him, Matt’s hand began to tremble. Mrs. Houston noticed Matt’s emotional state and asked with concern, “Matt, what’s wrong?” Matt took a deep breath to hold back his tears. He put the documents in his pocket and shook his head. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Houston. I’m very grateful for your care all these years and for doing this for me now. I just have one request, please promise me.” Matt struggled to control his emotions and said softly, “My whereabouts and location – please, please don’t tell Houston.” Matt and Houston should never meet again in this lifetime. Hearing this, Mrs. Houston looked at him in shock. “Did something happen between you two again?” Because just a few days ago, when talking about Houston, Matt would still smile. But now, Mrs. Houston could only see extreme disappointment and grief in his eyes. What could have happened in just a few days? Thinking of this, Mrs. Houston looked Matt up and down carefully. Her sharp eyes finally noticed the burn marks on Matt’s neck, partially concealed by makeup, and the bandages peeking out from his wrists. Mrs. Houston was stunned. Worry evident in her voice, she exclaimed, “Matt! What happened to cause those injuries?!” Matt pulled down his sleeves to cover the bandages on his wrists. He looked at Mrs. Houston solemnly: “Mrs. Houston! Please don’t ask anything. Just promise me what I asked earlier. I just want to leave quickly without causing any more trouble.” Matt didn’t tell Mrs. Houston about what happened in the small house. Since he was leaving, never to return, what was the point in saying anything? Or even if he did say something, what good would it do? Her true love had returned. Even if he left, she probably wouldn’t care. Matt smiled. “Mrs. Houston, thank you for taking care of the immigration paperwork. I’ll be going now.” He had barely finished speaking when a female voice suddenly came from behind them. Matt turned around and found himself looking into Jenny’s deep, panicked eyes. “What immigration?!”

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On my wedding day, my fiancé and my younger sister Nancy were caught doing the dirty in the private lounge. I immediately became a laughing stock, until my childhood friend Frank Kelvin publicly proposed to me, defending my honor. After we got married, he was the perfect husband… except for his performance in the bedroom. It was like his heart was never in it. I only managed to get pregnant after going for IVF this year. After that, he became even more protective of me. I once believed he was my sanctuary… until I overheard his conversation with his friend. “You’re ruthless, Frank. Setlla’s so good to you. How could you swap out her egg with Nancy’s just because Nancy is too afraid of the pain to give birth? “The baby’s due in two months. What do you plan to do then?” Frank was silent for a bit, then he sighed. “I’ll give Nancy the baby once it’s born. It’s one of her greatest wishes, after all. “As for Setlla, I’ll tell her the baby died. “I’ll make it up to her by staying with her for the rest of her life.” So that was how it was. He only protected me so gently for her sake. I turned around and immediately made a surgery appointment. I was throwing away this filthy baby… and this false marriage. ****** “Aren’t you worried Setlla will discover the truth?” Frank Kelvin was quiet for a moment before saying, “She won’t find out.” “Are you sure?” “She trusts me.” His tone was certain. “She won’t suspect a thing if I’m the one telling her.” After another short silence, his friend said, “As long as you don’t regret it.” Frank chuckled lightly. “I won’t.” So that was how it was. I stood outside the door, my nails digging into my flesh. It hurt so much, but I was going numb. I had only come here to bring him some clothes. It was getting cold, and I was worried he was not wearing enough layers. Now, however, I felt like my heart was being sliced open. A cold wind blew through my chest. I stumbled home, too exhausted to even turn on the lights. My knees buckled and I collapsed onto the couch, curled up and shivering. I felt nauseous and dizzy. Tears spilled from my eyes soundlessly, but I did not have the energy to wipe them away. The door knob clicked. He was back. I heard the sound of his leather shoes approaching. He walked up to the couch and bent down slightly, his voice gentle and worried. “Why didn’t you turn on the lights? The maid said you haven’t eaten. Are you feeling sick again?” He reached out to push the hair out of my face, his eyes filled with concern. “Setlla, what’s the matter?” He then crouched down, putting his hand over mine. His tone was gentle. “If you don’t eat, it’s bad for the baby.” I looked straight into his tender gaze. So love could be entirely an act. Four years ago, my fiancé and my younger sister were caught having an affair at my wedding. My parents forced me to hand over my fiancé, saying family protected each other. They could not afford to lose face in public, so they declared that Nancy Huxley was the bride that day. Back then, Frank had publicly proposed to me. At the time, I thought he was my savior. After we got married, I stood behind him and silently supported him the whole time. I used my market acumen to help him invest and expand his business. Within a few short years, his company went from a nameless startup to one of the rising stars in the investment industry. When we went for IVF to conceive this year, everything seemed to be perfect. He hugged me and said this baby was the gift he had been looking forward to for years. His smile was so tender I could almost drown in it.

Turned out it was just another trick. He was not the only one who could act. I blinked and curved my lips into a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just a little tired.” My voice was soft and slightly tired, as though nothing was amiss. He heaved a sigh of relief and comforted me gently. “Okay. Sleep early tonight.” Why not? I could play this game before the surgery. After that, the curtains would fall on this charade. The next morning, Frank took me to a prenatal checkup. He asked questions about every little detail. Even the doctor laughed and praised him. “You have a great husband. Not many men are this responsible these days.” Frank held my hand, his gaze gentle. “I’ve been looking forward to this baby forever. Of course I’ll take good care of them.” When we walked out of the consultation room, we bumped into my sister Nancy. She wore a loose-fitting dress, and a smug look flashed across her eyes when she saw us. I smirked inwardly when I saw her round belly. No wonder she said she had coincidentally fallen pregnant at the same time as me. She had been waiting for me the entire time. She approached me with a grin and a lighthearted tone. “When are you due, Setlla?” She even held out her hand to touch my stomach. My gaze cold, I smacked her hand aside. “What was that for?” Anger flashed across Nancy’s face. Before she could continue, however, I lowered my head and held my stomach, saying weakly, “My stomach… kinda hurts…” Her words caught in her throat, and her expression instantly stiffened. Frank immediately held my arm, his tone nervous. “Was it because the checkup took too long? Do you want to go back and rest?” His tone was filled with concern, but I could see that his gaze stayed on Nancy, wordlessly consoling her. I lowered my lashes, saying softly, “I’ll head to the washroom.” He frowned and tried to follow me, but I waved him aside. “No need. Wait for me here.” He hesitated but eventually nodded. “Alright, be careful.” I went into the washroom, but the moment I closed the door, I saw him hurry off. As I thought, he had gone to comfort Nancy. I followed him sneakily, standing a short distance away as I watched him soothe her patiently. Nancy frowned and pouted. “Did you fall for her or something? She was so rude to me, but you didn’t even defend me! Tell me honestly, did you feel bad for her?” Frank sighed helplessly. “I did it for the baby. After all, she’s…” Without finishing that sentence, he took a beautiful jewelry box from his pocket and pulled out a brand new bracelet from inside. His tone was gentle as he put it on her wrist. “This is the bracelet you wanted last time. I got it for you.” Nancy’s expression softened. She smirked and said smugly, “I earned a ton on the stock you recommended last time. Do you have any other recommendations?” I stood rooted to the spot, scoffing at the scene unfolding before me. Frank was using everything I gave him to win her heart. I turned around and left, then took out my phone and made a call. “Hello? I want to confirm my appointment tomorrow. Alright, I’ll be there on time.” The familiar footsteps behind me came to a sudden stop. “Tomorrow?” Frank sounded confused. “Where are you going tomorrow?” I turned around and met his gaze with a smile. “I made an appointment for a pregnancy photoshoot. Let’s take some family photos as keepsakes.”

His expression stiffened, and he hesitated. I purposely raised a brow, my tone light. “What’s the matter? You don’t want to go with me?” He could not quite meet my gaze. “No, I’m just… worried you’ll be too tired. Besides, I have a meeting tomorrow at work. How about another day?” I looked at him and chuckled, my tone soft and considerate. “It’s fine. Your work comes first. I can go alone.” He seemed to heave a sigh of relief. He rubbed my head with a smile, his tone indulgent. “What would I do without such a wonderful wife like you?” On the day of the surgery, Frank suddenly pulled out a small bracelet and put it on my wrist before leaving for work. “This is for you.” His tone was gentle as usual. I looked down at it. It was the free gift that came with the bracelet he bought for Nancy. My fingers curled into fists slightly, but I looked up at him with a smile. “Thanks. I love it.” His lips curved as he rubbed my hair, saying softly, “You’re always so sweet, Setlla.” Before going for the surgery, I decided to drop by my maiden home to visit my parents. Just as I was about to head inside, however, I heard the voices inside clearly. Nancy was complaining with a pout, “Why is Setlla always so arrogant? She even hit my hand yesterday!” My mother comforted her softly. “Just tolerate that for now, alright? We eventually gave you her fiancé when you wanted him, didn’t we? This time as well, you just need to be patient.” My father sighed helplessly. “Don’t make a fuss, okay? You finally married the guy you wanted. If your in-Kelvins find out how you’re getting this baby, they’ll get mad again, and Frank will be in trouble.” Frank hastily comforted her, his tone gentle but determined. “Don’t worry, Nancy. I brought the prenatal checkup from yesterday. Everything’s fine. We just need to wait until the baby is born.” He paused and continued, “Mom and Dad, you don’t have to worry about me either. I’ll do anything for Nancy.” My fingertips were cold. All the blood in my body froze over. So they all knew. So this was all part of their plan. So I was nothing more than their pawn from the very start. Not long later, the butler brought over some tea. Frank opened the door to take the cups, but his eyes locked onto something on the floor. There were pearls scattered across the doorway, and a bracelet lay broken. It was the one he had put on my wrist. He immediately went pale, forgetting to breathe. He rushed to the door and looked around, his gaze panicked. After that, he blew up my phone. The moment the call went through, he said anxiously, “Setlla, where are you? I can explain—” I did not reply. His voice grew even more panicked. “Setlla, what happened? Where are you?!” Just then, he heard a nurse saying on the other side— “Setlla Huxley? Please sign this agreement before the surgery.” Frank felt like he was being choked. His breath caught, and he instantly lost it. “A surgery? Where are you? What surgery?!” He practically roared into the phone, his voice unprecedentedly panicked. I looked at the screen calmly, drawing my finger across it lightly. I hung up… then turned off my phone.   I sat on the hospital bed, my hands rubbing the sheets subconsciously. My best friend Anna was making some arrangements over the phone. A few seconds later, she ended the call and looked at me. “Everything’s in place.” Her tone was steady as ever. “It’s all according to plan.” I nodded calmly. “Good.” The doctor came into my room, holding my chart. His expression was solemn. “Miss Huxley, let me check again before the surgery—” He flipped through my chart and looked at me solemnly. “The baby is quite far along, so we’ll have to induce labor. This could affect your future… Are you sure?” I did not hesitate for even a second. “I’m sure.” He paused before asking, “Do you have any family with you?” Family? I scoffed. The family who claimed to love me and care for me were all lying to me, planning to give away the baby once it was born. I looked up slowly and told the doctor in a frighteningly calm voice, “I don’t have any family. They’re all dead.” The doctor glanced at me. He wanted to say something, but then he sighed and nodded at the nurse. “Prepare the operation theater.” The door closed slowly, and the world went silent. The only sound left was the beep of the ECG. This was the first decision I made for myself. It was fine. My life would become even better without them. After the surgery, back in my room, I heard Anna’s voice in my ear before I was even fully awake. “Frank kept calling me. I gave him a different address, but he’ll find out soon.” The first thing I saw when I opened my eyes was Anna’s worried gaze. Her tone was careful. “How do you feel?” I paused and instinctively touched my stomach. It was flat. My fingers paused on the empty belly, as though confirming something… or searching for something. Anna hesitated when she saw my movements and asked cautiously, “Do you… regret it?” I did not reply, my fingers slowly digging into my palms until it began to hurt. Regret? Never. All I felt was… hatred. I hated them for tricking me, and hated myself for taking this long to notice. Fortunately, it was not too late. I did not let them get their way. I looked up with a cold smile. “I don’t regret it at all.” I then reached for the documents I had prepared on my bedside table. My voice was hoarse but clear. “I already signed them.” Anna took the papers and read through them, her gaze serious. “Divorce papers?” I nodded slightly. “Send them out right away.” She did not ask any more questions. “Alright.” She then paused before continuing, “The stocks you invested in with my account have made it big. I’ll transfer the money back to you right now.” I lowered my gaze, my tone calm. “Alright.” After a second, I chuckled, my gaze ice cold. “Don’t let them know. I’ll make them pay, slowly, once I recover.” The next day, I heard panicked footsteps at the door. I closed my eyes and let out a breath, my fingers digging into the sheets. They found me, after all. The door flew open, Frank taking the lead. When he saw me in the hospital bed, all the blood drained from his face. There was no hiding the panic in his eyes. “Setlla! How could you be so rash? You misunderstood, I can explain—” He ran toward me, his tone rushed.

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I’m a world-class cardiac surgeon. To help me save patients more efficiently, the U.S. government gave me a special vehicle with the license plate “1111.” This car is exclusively for my use. Whenever this special vehicle hits the road, the traffic system clears the path and creates corridors for me, providing full escort with green lights all the way to ensure smooth passage. After receiving the car, I kept it at my fiancé Jayden Thomas’s house, letting him maintain the vehicle for me. Until one day, I received an urgent mission to perform a heart transplant on a leader who held critical state secrets. I immediately rushed to the Thomas mansion to get the car. As I was preparing to leave, a strange woman yanked open the car door and slid into the back seat. She said rudely, “Drive me to the mall for a manicure first, then go pick up the ice cream Jayden ordered for me. If that ice cream melts even a little, I’ll kill you.” Thinking she had mistaken me for someone else, I said gently, “This is my car. I have an emergency and need to get to the airport. Please get out of the car immediately.” She cursed, “Bullshit! How dare a driver pretend to be the owner? Open your eyes and look at the license plate!” At that moment, the nearby maid Alice Reed looked at me sideways and said, “You’re in the wrong here. Everyone in the city knows Mr. Thomas loves taking Miss Cox out for rides in this car. Nobody dares to mess with them.” I was stunned. Jayden actually dared to use this special vehicle to take her out for fun? This was extremely serious. ***** Using this special vehicle without my permission was equivalent to misappropriating U.S. government property. This offense alone carried a minimum sentence of three years in prison. Not to mention that Jayden was secretly using my car to take another woman for joyrides behind my back. This would add another charge to his existing offense. If the Thomas family knew how to read the situation and had Jayden properly apologize to me, considering he was my fiancé, I might still plead with the government for leniency. But… I looked at the woman arrogantly occupying the back seat. This “Miss Cox” who came out of nowhere had committed too serious an offense to be salvaged. She refused to get out, and I had no mood to continue arguing with her. I simply looked away, started the car immediately, and prepared to head to the airport. Saving lives was the priority. As for this mess, I’d have Jayden come explain everything to me personally after I completed my mission. After starting the car, I gripped the steering wheel, ready to leave. “Are you insane?” the woman screamed. She lunged forward from the back seat, frantically grabbing at my steering wheel. “How dare you drive without my permission?” The car instantly lost control, heading straight for the wall. Just as the car was about to hit the wall, I regained control of the steering wheel. I slammed on the brakes while jerking the wheel hard. The car swerved, crashed into a flower bed, and stalled. Still shaken from the scare, I blurted out, “Are you crazy?” “You’re the one messing with my car.” She rolled her eyes and said, “If you ever do something like this again, I’ll chop off your hands. Bitch!” I didn’t want to deal with her and immediately got out to check the dented hood. Fortunately, the car’s driving functions were all normal. Just as I was about to get back in, the Thomas family bodyguards rushed over and pushed me away. Under the woman’s smug gaze, the bodyguards took over the driver’s seat. “After offending Miss Cox, you still dare to run?” one bodyguard snarled viciously. “Watch out or we’ll skin you alive today!” I hadn’t expected the Thomas family bodyguards to be so obedient to her like dogs. I looked at Alice, who was coldly watching the drama unfold, and asked, “Who is she?” “You don’t know Miss Cox?” Alice looked at me like I was a joke. “She’s Mr. Thomas’s most beloved intern assistant, Layla Cox.” I laughed bitterly. She was just an intern assistant, yet she dared to flaunt her power and bully others here. I felt the Thomas family’s management was terrible. “I’ll ask Jayden myself.” I pulled out my phone helplessly. Layla immediately tensed up, staring at me intently. Since Layla was spoiled by Jayden, I wanted to see how he’d handle this. The phone rang for a long time before being answered. “Jayden, you’ve already committed a crime against public safety by using my car for joyrides without permission,” I said directly. “Now, have your intern assistant and bodyguards get out of my car immediately so they don’t interfere with my mission. After this is over, I might still put in a good word for you so you won’t have to go to prison.” There was a long silence on the other end. He chuckled coldly and said, “Josephine, what right do you have to make me wrong Layla for your sake? You want to compete with her for the car? Are you worthy?” Josephine Brown is my name. I was instantly stunned. Originally, the Thomas family had begged me to marry Jayden to repay me for saving their lives. They said Jayden was handsome with a great physique and would wholeheartedly take care of me. At the time, I was focused entirely on my work. After seeing Jayden’s photos, I was satisfied and immediately agreed to the engagement. I never expected he would side with Layla. Didn’t he know that if he couldn’t marry me, the Thomas family would go bankrupt? It was only because of me that the government was willing to give the Thomas family so many premium contracts.

Jayden was being completely unreasonable. “You’d better think about the consequences,” I warned him, suppressing my anger. “If you delay me, Sir Thomas’s heart transplant surgery will be too late.” Tonight, I had already scheduled to perform heart transplant surgery on Jayden’s grandfather, William Thomas. But if I couldn’t successfully save the leader and get back in time, William would just have to wait in the ICU. Every minute he waited meant more danger. “Enough!” Jayden cut me off harshly. “Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been lying all along!” “I’ve done my research. The first heart surgery you did on my grandfather was just a minor procedure that any doctor could perform.” He sneered. “You lied to my grandfather, claiming only you could make the surgery successful, just so you could use this opportunity to become part of the Thomas family, didn’t you?” “Well, you succeeded.” Jayden continued through gritted teeth. “I won’t break off our engagement, but I’ll never let you touch my grandfather again.” My heart lurched. My instincts as a doctor made me try to stop him. “No. This heart transplant surgery really can only be done by me…” “You’re still pretending.” Jayden’s tone was casual, completely unconcerned. “Layla has already brought in a heart specialist from abroad. I’ve moved up the surgery time. You don’t need to worry about it anymore, Dr. Brown.” The surgery time had been moved up, and no one had bothered to notify me, the lead surgeon. If I didn’t have this mission to save the leader, I could rush back to the hospital immediately to stop them. But right now, I was on duty and couldn’t go back. “If something goes wrong with the surgery, can you take responsibility?” I asked angrily. In this world, there were countless people begging me to perform surgery on them. William was lucky to have gotten this precious surgical opportunity by chance. Otherwise, with his status, he wouldn’t even qualify to meet me. Since Jayden insisted on not letting me save William, I didn’t want to deal with it anymore. The person on the other end of the phone paused. Jayden probably hadn’t expected me to agree so readily. “Nothing could possibly go wrong,” he said angrily. “If something does go wrong, I’ll take full responsibility.” With that, he hung up. Seeing that Jayden wouldn’t help me, Alice, who had been waiting to watch me make a fool of myself, couldn’t help but mock me. “Now you regret it, don’t you?” She rolled her eyes. “Ms. Cox isn’t just an intern assistant. She’s only been at the company for a month, but Mr. Thomas has already brought her home and dotes on her day and night. Mr. Thomas even ordered everyone to call her Mrs. Thomas. None of us dare to mess with her. Who do you think you are?” I thought I’d misheard. Before I even became part of the Thomas family, they already had a “Mrs. Thomas”? “Don’t you all know that Mr. Thomas has a fiancée?” I couldn’t help asking. “Ha!” Alice said sarcastically. “Mr. Thomas has already said that once that stupid woman marries him, he’ll kick her out. He only wants Ms. Cox to be Mrs. Thomas.” Layla breathed a sigh of relief, looked at me smugly, and deliberately flashed the diamond ring on her ring finger to show off. I was so angry I laughed. The Thomas family was completely dishonest. If I had known Jayden was this kind of person, I never would have agreed to marry him. I glanced at the time and saw there were thirty minutes left before the plane took off. If I didn’t leave now, I really would be too late. “I’m warning you one last time,” I said seriously. “You can’t handle the consequences of delaying my work. If you come to your senses now and give me the car, I can still put in a good word for you, forgive your mistake, and not punish you.” Layla’s eyes widened. “A driver’s Christmas bonus couldn’t even buy one of my shoes,” she mocked. “Even if I beat you to death, I can afford to pay for your worthless life.” I didn’t have time to argue with her. Seeing her hogging the car, I decided to go outside and hail a taxi. I could coordinate everything else on the way and try to get to the airport within thirty minutes. Just as I was about to reach the door, a tremendous force suddenly kicked me in the stomach, and my phone instantly flew out of my hand. I was completely unprepared and got kicked to the ground. The organs in my stomach felt like they were being crushed. A metallic taste surged up my throat, and then I coughed up a mouthful of blood. Layla sauntered over and pressed her high heel against my face. She said, “How dare you try to leave without apologizing to me?”

The excruciating pain left me unable to move. Layla aimed the sharp tip of her stiletto heel directly at my eye. One forceful stomp and my eyeball would burst instantly. Jayden’s bodyguards gripped baseball bats, surrounding her while glaring at me menacingly. There was no way I could take on this many people. “I’m sorry, Miss Cox.” To save my life, I struggled to apologize. “I really do have patients who need treatment. Please let me go.” A flicker of surprise crossed Layla’s eyes. She let out a cold laugh, then suddenly bent down and grabbed my hair, slamming my head against the ground with force. Layla said arrogantly, “You’re about to die and you still dare lie to me? “Is pretending to be a doctor fun? Even if you weren’t just a rideshare driver, even if you really were a doctor, I could easily kill you.” I struggled desperately, trying to protect my head with my hands. But Layla stomped down hard on my fingers. I screamed in agony, only able to tremble while repeatedly whispering “I’m sorry.” As a doctor, my hands were my most precious asset. If my hands were injured, I might never be able to perform delicate surgeries again. “Scared now?” Layla taunted. “Too late.” She pointed at my car and said, “You wanted to drive, didn’t you? I’ve thought of a more interesting game.” Layla signaled to the bodyguards, who immediately rushed forward and tied me to the rear of the car. I realized her intention, and my entire body began trembling violently. “I’ll die.” The fear of death made my breathing rapid. “You can’t do this.” Slap! A loud smack landed across my face. Then a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills was thrown at me. “That’s twenty thousand dollars to buy your worthless life,” one bodyguard mocked. “Miss Cox once killed someone driving this car without a license and only paid ten thousand in compensation. You should feel satisfied.” The car engine started. I lay on the scorching asphalt, instantly dragged forward by the moving vehicle. Layla, behind the wheel, deliberately accelerated and took sharp turns. Only when she saw me thrown into a rose bush full of thorns did she laugh with satisfaction. My exposed skin was slashed with bloody cuts from the rose thorns. I was only wearing thin casual clothes. If this continued, I would surely die. Suddenly, the car stopped. Layla opened the driver’s door and jumped out. “I thought you’d be so scared you’d wet yourself,” she said, deliberately putting on a delicate act. “I’ve used this method to teach five people a lesson. You’re the most boring one.” I couldn’t argue with her. The bodyguards had already sealed my mouth completely with duct tape. Layla was satisfied with this. She jumped back into the car and started the engine again. She deliberately drove onto a dirt road. Fine grains of sand tore through my skin, burrowing deep into my flesh. My elbows and ankles had already been ground down to expose white bone. The excruciating pain began to blur my consciousness. I even hoped my heart would just stop beating so I could die immediately and suffer less. Just as I was about to lose consciousness, Layla suddenly slammed on the brakes.   “Jayden!” Layla ran excitedly toward the car. I struggled to lift my head, wanting to demand an explanation from my fiancé Jayden. But the person who got out of Jayden’s car wasn’t him—it was his secretary, Miles Cooper. Layla immediately put on a wronged expression. She said, “Someone really upset me today, and I couldn’t even get my nails done. Is he just sending you to brush me off? I don’t care—he has to come comfort me himself.” “Mr. Thomas is accompanying Sir Thomas through surgery and can’t leave,” Miles explained. “So what? The doctor I hired is a foreign expert—there’s no way the surgery could go wrong.” Layla pouted, saying dissatisfiedly, “He just won’t come be with me.” Miles frowned deeply. The moment our eyes met, his whole body shook—he clearly recognized me. He quickly walked to my side. Seeing me covered in blood and wounds all over my body, his eyes filled with shock. Miles said, “Mr. Thomas instructed me to take her to the hospital immediately.” He reached out to untie the ropes binding me. Barely clinging to life, I found this situation utterly ironic. William’s heart surgery must have gone wrong, and now they wanted to find me for help again. That surgery was extremely dangerous—no one but me could successfully complete it. “Her?” Layla looked at me in disbelief, her eyes full of jealousy. She said, “No wonder you dared break into the Thomas family villa. So you used being a designated driver as an excuse to provoke me! Tell me! How dare you seduce Jayden behind my back? You shameless woman!” Layla yanked away Miles’s hands as he was untying the ropes. She sneered, “You think you can take my place? “I’ve seen plenty of women like you! Jayden just plays around with you people. Once he’s had his fun, he always hands you over to me to deal with. “Even if I torture you to death, he’ll only praise me for doing well.” Consumed by jealousy, Layla ran back to the driver’s seat like a madwoman. The car roared to life. She floored the gas pedal, and the speed instantly shot up. Miles, who had tried to save me, was left far behind. In an instant, I felt the skin on my back being torn away along with my clothes by the asphalt. My wrists were also scraped raw, the wounds so deep you could see bone. “Ah!” Suddenly, Layla let out a scream. With a “bang,” the car stopped. Miles had rammed his car into hers to force her to stop. “Have you caused enough trouble?” Miles’s chest heaved, clearly furious. “Mr. Thomas said to take her away.” “Doesn’t he love me anymore?” Layla started crying, saying, “He’d rather be seduced by this low-class woman than come comfort me.” While she was crying and making a scene, I seized the opportunity and used my last breath to break free from the severed ropes. I lunged toward Miles and grabbed his phone. My hands were already mangled beyond recognition—I could never hold a scalpel again. There was no way I could complete the medical mission. Losing too much blood, I forced myself to stay conscious. Enduring excruciating pain, I used my hands with exposed finger bones to send a text to my superior in Washington: [I am incompetent and have failed the organization’s trust. I can only atone in the next life.]

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My brother Gideon Edwards was killed in a car accident on his way to the mall to buy me, Natalia Edwards, the birthday gift I’d been longing for. His car plunged into the river, and his body was never found. Ever since then, every Christmas on my birthday, my parents would force me to kneel at Gideon’s grave and beg for forgiveness. Until my eighteenth birthday, when I was being stalked by a creep on my way home from work. In panic, I called my parents for help. My mother Maeve Edwards was furious on the other end of the line: “Stop making excuses to avoid it! You just don’t want to repent to Gideon! After all these years, how wonderful it would be if Gideon were still alive. Why wasn’t it you who died instead, you burden!” With that, she hung up without hesitation. In the end, I was brutally murdered, my body carelessly dumped in the city’s landfill. The police officer assigned to the case was my father Ezra Edwards, but even when faced with my mutilated remains, he couldn’t recognize me. Later, Gideon returned with his wife Phoebe Michell, whom he’d eloped with eight years ago. When they learned of my death, they all went insane. ***** On Wednesday, the city’s garbage was transported by trucks to the suburban landfill for disposal. This was how old lady Camille Watkins made her living. On lucky days, she could find plenty of cardboard boxes and bottles to exchange for money. But today, she hadn’t found many bottles. Instead, she discovered a black garbage bag filled with meat. Camille looked at the meat in the bag with delight, leaning in to smell it. No foul odor. The pork was clean and tender, with perfect marbling of fat and lean. Without thinking twice, she grabbed the bag and hurried home. Her family was so poor that she hadn’t eaten meat in nearly half a year. Camille lit the stove and boiled water, putting all the meat in the pot to blanch. She said excitedly, “I’m so lucky today.” Soon, an enticing aroma of meat filled the entire room. But just as she was ladling the meat from the pot, she noticed something oddly shaped in the basin. Camille’s eyesight wasn’t good. Squinting, she picked it up with a fork to examine it. The moment she saw what it was, she collapsed to the floor in shock. “Ahhhh!” A piercing scream tore through the sky. She scrambled and crawled out of her house. What lay steaming on the ground was a cooked human hand. That’s when I saw Ezra. On the third day after my death, I finally saw him again. I just never expected we’d reunite this way. He bent down to pick up the cooked remains, his expression grave. Ezra was a veteran police officer who had solved countless cases and upheld justice. But even so, faced with such a scene, he couldn’t help but change color. He gritted his teeth and cursed angrily: “What a monster! We’ll give this case everything we’ve got. We must get justice for the victim!” Hearing those resolute words, I felt momentarily dazed. I wondered: “If Dad knew this corpse belonged to the daughter he’d hated for ten years, would he still be so determined?” Soon, the coroner took my remains back to the police station. Unfortunately, the body parts had been cooked, making it impossible to extract viable DNA. The only things they could determine were that the corpse belonged to a teenage girl, and there was a scar on the palm of one of the hands. The forensics team identified that the scar had existed for many years, approximately ten years. Hearing this, Ezra’s colleague instinctively looked at him, frowning: “Ezra, I remember Natalia has a similar scar on her palm, and she just turned eighteen this year…” Ezra’s face instantly changed. “Impossible!” he blurted out. “How could that jinx be dead?” Hearing those words, my chest suddenly ached, and even my soul trembled. Memories kept alternating between ten years ago and yesterday. I seemed to hear that demon’s whisper in my ears again: “Your father killed my brother, so I wanted him to taste what it’s like to lose a daughter. Too bad, after I caught you, I realized your father doesn’t love you at all.” I shook my head desperately. No, my father does love me. It’s because I did something wrong that they hate me. It’s my fault. Before I turned ten, I had a happy family with a loving brother and devoted parents. They cherished me like a princess, holding me in the palm of their hands. But everything changed on my tenth birthday. Gideon was killed in a car accident on his way to buy me that birthday gift I’d been longing for. His car plunged into the river, and his body was never found. From that day on, my parents’ attitude toward me completely changed.

Every Christmas birthday, Mom and Dad would take me to Gideon’s grave. “Kneel down! Confess to your brother!” I knelt on the hard ground, kowtowing over and over until my forehead bled. Maeve stood beside me crying, cursing nonstop: “You’re the jinx who killed my son. Why don’t you just die!” This scene continued for ten whole years. My knees became disabled from excessive kneeling, and I could never dance again. On ordinary days, the atmosphere at home was suffocatingly oppressive. During meals, Mom and Dad would place Gideon’s portrait next to me, then put all the food in front of it. If I so much as glanced at that food, Ezra would slam his fork on the table and glare at me: “How dare you even think about eating? This is all for your brother. You don’t deserve it!” Maeve would chime in: “Exactly. You living is just a waste of food. You might as well die.” Maeve had actually tried to make that happen. She firmly believed I had killed Gideon, even fantasizing that if I died, Gideon would come back to life. So she deliberately locked me in my room without giving me even a drop of water. I starved for three whole days, dizzy and weak, pleading with them, only to receive cold stares and merciless mockery. “I think you’re just pretending. Some people can go five days without food. You’ve only been three days – how can you not endure it?” Finally, I was so hungry I couldn’t stand it anymore and actually bit my own hand. Ezra was startled when he saw my bloody, mangled arm and finally let me out. That day, the way Mom and Dad looked at me changed. “You really are a jinx. Not only did you kill your brother, you won’t even spare yourself!” I wanted to explain that I was just too hungry. But they wouldn’t listen at all. They called my teacher directly, saying I had always had self-harm tendencies and was mentally unhealthy, asking the teacher to keep an eye on me. Just as they wished, news that I was “mentally ill” spread quickly. My classmates began bullying me relentlessly. When I walked by, they would deliberately stick out their feet to trip me, watching me fall pathetically to the ground as they burst into laughter. At the time, I didn’t know all of this was deliberately spread by Mom and Dad. I foolishly ran to them crying about being bullied. Their reaction was unusually cold. “Look at you, embarrassing us outside, and you still have the nerve to come back?” Ezra’s scolding never stopped. “How did I give birth to such a useless thing? You killed your brother – you should go to hell!” Maeve wasn’t to be outdone. I lived through such painful days for ten whole years. The scar on my palm was left from that time. The first year after Gideon died, Maeve suffered from hysteria because she missed him so much. She even chased me with a knife, saying she wanted my life for his. I was lucky – my palm was sliced through, but I didn’t die after all. Just then, Ezra’s phone rang. It was Maeve calling. Maeve asked: “Are you coming home for dinner today?” Ezra said: “No, there’s a case here. A teenage girl was murdered. Sigh, what a shame – a perfectly good girl chopped into pieces.” Hearing this, Maeve sighed and comforted him: “It’s okay, don’t worry too much. You’ll definitely catch the killer.” Thinking of something, she suddenly spoke with an angry tone: “By the way, Natalia ran out to play and still hasn’t come back.” Hearing this, my soul seemed to tremble. I thought: “So Mom still remembers me?”

Three days ago, while dusting Gideon’s portrait, I accidentally knocked over the frame. Maeve rushed over and slapped me across the face, then began punching and kicking me. I couldn’t take it anymore and broke down crying. “Mom! Why are you treating me like this? I’m heartbroken about Gideon’s death too, but I’m also your daughter. Can’t you be a little kinder to me?” But I’ll never forget the expression on Maeve’s face that day. She looked at me as if I were something utterly repulsive to her. She said, “Do you deserve it? “What murderer has the right to ask for forgiveness? “You think you’re having a hard time? Have you ever thought about Gideon, who you killed with your own hands? “If I could, I wish I’d only ever had Gideon as my son!” I staggered backward and fled through the door. I knew my parents hated me. I just never expected that in their hearts, I truly had no place at all. I felt utterly devastated. But now, Maeve had actually brought me up. Had she sensed something? Did she still care about me after all? However, when Maeve asked her question, Ezra just sneered coldly: “If she’s got any backbone, she’ll never come back. Better if she dies out there.” I smiled bitterly, thinking to myself: “There I go again, reading too much into things. Of course—I killed Gideon. How could I expect them to love me like before? But Dad, Mom, I really am already dead out there.” Due to the brutal and shocking nature of the case, police launched a massive search, hoping to find my other missing body parts. Soon, they discovered bags filled with body parts scattered throughout various corners of the city. Unfortunately, the remaining pieces had already decomposed into rotting flesh, providing no useful clues. Ezra rubbed his head and said, “For a body to be chopped up this badly, could the killer have had a grudge against the victim? Could this be a revenge killing?” Typically, killers dismember bodies to make disposal easier. But to this extent was completely unnecessary. I stared at those chunks of rotting flesh, and my soul suddenly felt excruciating pain. When he cut my body apart piece by piece, I was still alive. In the end, I bled out completely—I died from the sheer agony. But my father had answered my call for help. That night, when I noticed someone following me, I dialed his number. He picked up, but all that came out was scolding: “Natalia, haven’t you lied enough? How many more lies are you going to make up to get our attention?” His voice was frighteningly cold: “If you want to die, just hurry up and do it. Stop bothering me!” So later, I really did die. That evening, when Ezra came home, Maeve had already prepared dinner—a table full of seafood, with crabs and shrimp. She peeled two shrimp for Ezra, then placed two more on Gideon’s plate. While wiping the sauce from her hands, she complained: “Natalia’s really gotten bold—she won’t even answer when I call her. She used to complain that we didn’t love her, and now that I’ve bought such expensive seafood, she’s off somewhere and won’t come home!” Watching Maeve’s disgusted expression, I felt somewhat sad. How long would it take her to remember that it was Gideon who loved seafood, not me? Once, Maeve had peeled shrimp for me, and I said I didn’t want to eat it. She pointed at my nose and cursed me out. I ended up eating it anyway, and had such a severe allergic reaction I could barely breathe. She said dismissively: “You’re just having an allergic reaction. You won’t die. Gideon came to me in a dream last night saying he wanted the latest gaming console. Let’s hurry to the mall before it closes.” I thought at the time: “No! Dad, Mom, don’t leave me behind! I don’t want to die—save me!” The living room door slammed shut with a bang, and I was completely abandoned. I thought desperately: “Fine, maybe if I die, it won’t hurt so much anymore.” I curled up in the corner.   I didn’t die that day. At the critical moment, I jumped out the window and was rushed to the hospital for emergency treatment. The doctor said it was fortunate I was brought in time—a few minutes later, and I probably wouldn’t have made it. A woman sitting beside her daughter’s bed was peeling an orange while saying to me, “Thank goodness you’re okay. Otherwise, your parents would be so worried.” I watched enviously as she fed the orange segments to her daughter, piece by piece. Reflected in the glass window was my lonely figure. I comforted myself, mimicking Christian’s way of announcing to everyone, laughing loudly as I said, “Yes, my mom and dad love me very, very much.” Just then, the hospital room door was suddenly pushed open. Ezra and Maeve rushed toward me. My heart filled with grievance. Fighting through the pain, I struggled to sit up, tears falling to the floor one by one. “Dad, Mom…” I thought to myself: “I was so scared, really scared of dying like that. Could you hold me? Just once, just once would be enough.” But Maeve suddenly grabbed my collar, yanked me from the hospital bed, and threw me to the floor. The IV needle was torn out, blood spraying everywhere. She cursed, “You little bitch! Stop playing the victim! You deliberately ate something you’re allergic to, then jumped off a building to make a scene for everyone to see. Are you trying to make the whole world think your dad and I mistreat you, to ruin our reputation? Why didn’t you just jump to your death!” I curled up, covering my head as my body was kicked and beaten repeatedly. I never meant to harm them. I just didn’t want to die. I had gambled on the height of the third floor and won, but I lost the bet on their hatred for me. I saw Ezra’s reflection in the glass, leaning against the wall, coldly watching as Maeve clawed at me with her nails. I also saw the woman in the next bed holding her frightened daughter, gently comforting her. The onlookers at the door looked at me with contempt and disdain, as if Christian were saying what a vicious child I was. The fantasy of “Mom and Dad love me” that I had barely mustered the courage to build was completely shattered in front of everyone. I had lied to them. My parents didn’t love me—they loved me least of all. After that, they cut off my living expenses, and I could only apply to live at school. Every day I ate free vegetable soup and slept in a sixteen-person dormitory on a thin mattress. My room and board depended entirely on the scholarships I desperately fought for each semester. As I progressed through middle school and high school, the boarding fees kept increasing. I could only study day and night, just to score a few more points and keep my scholarship to survive. I always believed that if I became excellent enough, someday Ezra and Maeve would love me again. But when I came home with nearly perfect test scores and relatives praised me, Maeve coldly retorted with a sneer, “She’s dumb as rocks. How could she possibly score that well?” Then a sharp slap landed on my face. “Tell me, did you cheat on the test?” My face burned with pain, but my heart hurt even more. I wanted to disappear immediately. Later, when the teacher called to confirm my grades, Maeve just glanced at the torn test paper in the trash and said with disgust, “You only scored that much—what’s there to brag about? Your brother always got perfect scores at Christmas, unlike you with no promise. How embarrassing!” Along with the test paper, my heart was also torn to pieces. Ezra and Maeve liked children like Gideon, so I tried desperately to erase myself and become like Gideon. I studied even harder. Through the changing seasons, the harsh study environment continued to torment me. After graduating high school, I finally had a chance to prove I was an excellent child like Gideon. I thought: “Dad, Mom, you’ll start loving me now, won’t you?” But I died the night before the results were announced. Even in death, I never became the child loved by my parents, like Gideon. I watched as Ezra and Maeve filled Gideon’s bowl with food. This scene had repeated day after day for eight years. Wasn’t it Gideon, who died because of me, who had turned Ezra and Maeve into what they are now? I thought perhaps I deserved to die too. A knock came at the door, and a familiar voice called out: “Dad, Mom, open up! I brought my wife home!” I saw the usually cautious Ezra jump up in panic, knocking over a plate. The usually quick-moving Maeve collapsed in her chair, tears streaming uncontrollably as she asked Ezra over and over: “Is it him? Is it him?” Ezra walked to the door almost helplessly, gripping the handle for a long time before finally turning it. The door slowly opened, revealing the tall man outside. I saw him—my older brother Gideon, whom I had killed eight years ago.

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I brought in three hundred million dollars in revenue for the company, yet my husband Max’s private financial advisor, hired for a million, slammed a stack of invoices onto my desk. Her voice dripped with the haughty tone of a madam of the house as she interrogated me: “The gifts for clients, Wish has them for half the price. Why did you buy them for double?” “Were you eating abalone and lobster with clients? Why did one meal cost a thousand dollars?” “This business trip? You filed twenty thousand dollars in expenses. That’s way above the average employee.” Every single word was a blatant accusation that I was taking kickbacks. I argued back, defending myself fiercely. But she wouldn’t give up, going so far as to publicly demand I strip naked for an inspection. I actually laughed, a cold, bitter sound. I immediately called Max to confront him. He, however, snapped impatiently, “What are you getting all worked up about?! She’s a senior financial advisor, everything she does is for the company. Just listen to her! Don’t think securing one big deal makes you indispensable!” “Learn from her, how she manages finances so carefully. You just throw money around! That’s *my* money you’re spending! If you keep being so wasteful, we’re done!” Then he hung up on me. I knew then, this man was no longer worth my efforts. I simply smiled, a quiet, almost serene smile. “Since you’re so capable, then you handle everything from now on. I’m out.” Seven days later, the company’s major clients all ended up vomiting and having diarrhea at the annual gala. Every single one was rushed to the hospital with severe food poisoning. The entire financial district was in shock. 1、 Cassie’s accusations against me were so loud, the whole office could hear her. Everyone shot me sneering glances. Cassie smugly lifted her chin at me. “Manager Hayes, Max has already spoken. Please cooperate with my work.” “If you haven’t taken any kickbacks, why not just let me inspect you in front of everyone? What’s the big deal?” “Why are you refusing to cooperate? Isn’t that just proof you’re hiding something?” My colleagues chimed in, one after another: “Yeah, Manager Hayes, if you’ve got nothing to hide, just cooperate with Cassie and let her check, right?” “It’s just taking off your clothes, right? Nobody here is dying to see *your* body, okay?” “Besides, you’re a company manager, shouldn’t you lead by example? If even you refuse to be inspected, then everyone below you will follow suit. The company will be hollowed out by parasites!” I was so infuriated by these people, I actually laughed. I remembered how Max used to ignore everything about the company. It was *me* who led them from the ground up, bringing them to where we were now. Who here hadn’t been promoted by me? But now, they were just bandwagon jumpers, subtly calling me a parasite! If I actually let Cassie force me to strip naked in front of everyone for her inspection, how would our partners look at me? I crossed my arms, a cold smirk on my face. “What gives you the right to make me stand here and strip for *your* inspection?” Cassie was stunned into silence by my retort, then her face flushed with fury as she was about to snap back at me. But then she saw someone standing behind me, and her expression instantly melted into one of extreme victimhood. “Manager Hayes is right, after all, I’m just a lowly financial advisor. How can I compare to you?” “If I can’t help Max with the company’s financial matters, then what’s the point of me being here?” “I shouldn’t let Max down. I’ll just resign and leave.” As she spoke, she reached for the resignation letter to sign her name. I’d sensed something was off the moment Cassie’s face changed. And sure enough, just as she picked up the pen, a large hand stopped her. “Enough. I hired you as my private financial advisor because I valued your financial acumen.” “You’re in charge of all the company’s finances. Let’s see who dares to question that!” I hadn’t expected Max to ditch his client dinner and rush back to the company, just to support Cassie. He spoke softly, coaxing Cassie until she finally broke into a tearful smile, whimpering, “But Manager Hayes is still Max’s wife…” Max reached out and wiped away a tear from her eye. “Business is business, no personal feelings. What if she is my legal wife?” “If she won’t cooperate with your work, then it’s her fault.” As he finished speaking, Max, who had just rushed back, finally deigned to glance at me. He frowned, his voice icy. “Seraphina Hayes, she just wants to verify the invoices to see if you’re taking kickbacks. Why aren’t you cooperating?” 2、 Listening to Max’s indifferent and distant tone, a pang of pain shot through my heart. It used to be his calm, professional demeanor – keeping business and personal matters separate – that I found most appealing. Outside the home, I was his subordinate; inside, I was his wife. But seeing Max openly side with Cassie, disregarding right and wrong in front of everyone, made me realize that even *that* cool, detached man was capable of showering someone with his complete favoritism. It just wasn’t me. I managed a bitter laugh. “Cassie rejected all my submitted invoices, accusing me of taking kickbacks, and demanded I strip naked for her inspection in front of everyone. She’s a senior financial advisor; she knows such a procedure is completely improper. She’s targeting me! Can’t you see that?” Max’s brows furrowed even deeper after hearing my words. He asked, dismissively, “That’s it?” I was stunned. “What do you mean, ‘that’s it’?” Max wearily rubbed his temples, looking utterly exasperated. “You called me just to complain about something so trivial?” “Cassie is a top financial advisor whom I hired at a high salary. Everything she does is to make the company better.” “As a company manager, you should lead by example and actively cooperate with her work!” Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, looking at me with profound disappointment. “Seraphina Hayes, weren’t you always the most level-headed one? When it comes to company assets, I treat everyone equally. Stop throwing a tantrum!” Max’s words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head in the dead of winter. I felt instantly plunged into an ice cave, my heart chilling to the core. Something that could ruin my reputation, something that might make me unable to hold my head up for the rest of my life, was, in Max’s mouth, just me being childish and petty? I had fought for him, for this company, for a full seven years. I signed countless deals. I personally built a nameless startup into one of the top companies in the region. At my busiest, I practically lived at the office for a month straight, drinking so much at client dinners that I developed stomach ulcers. To understand clients’ preferences and give them gifts they’d truly like, I even worked part-time at bars and as a caddy at golf courses. Everyone laughed, saying I cared more about money than my own life. But now, with Cassie falsely accusing me of taking kickbacks, Max wouldn’t even say he believed me. Suddenly, I felt ridiculous. I had wasted seven years of my life for nothing. A man like this simply wasn’t worth any more of my effort. With the rose-tinted glasses off, even Max’s face seemed repulsive to me now. I shrugged, making a show of backing down. “You slander me, I won’t accept it.” “Whoever questions me, let them provide the evidence.” Hearing that, Cassie’s face grew even more aggrieved. “You won’t take off your clothes, so how can we know if you’re hiding company property? Otherwise, how do you explain your expenses being higher than everyone else’s?” “You’re just making excuses to avoid cooperating, if you look down on me, just say so! If Max didn’t insist I manage the company and be his financial overseer, I wouldn’t be this stressed!” Seeing Cassie’s distress, Max immediately delivered his cold judgment: “Cassie’s words are my words.” “All of Seraphina Hayes’ duties are suspended until her name is cleared.” I spread my hands, looking resigned. “Fine, whatever you say. Then I quit.” Max reached out to take my hand, but I avoided his touch. He only thought it was a small tantrum after my supposed ‘backing down,’ and paid it no mind. Instead, he looked somewhat pleased. “It’s good that you’re so understanding. With you as an example, the whole company won’t develop bad habits in the future!” Max thought I had seen sense. He had no idea I was planning to let go. Both him and the company — I wanted neither of them anymore. 3、 News of my suspension spread quickly. Max immediately put Cassie in my position. On the very day of the announcement, he publicly endorsed her in front of all the employees. “From now on, Cassie will be the company’s second-in-command, Vice President Pierce.” “Before, Manager Hayes used to spend millions on the annual gala. Now it’s up to Cassie. She’s a senior financial advisor, excellent at being thrifty. You all follow her lead!” When I first joined Max’s startup, I started from the bottom. Serving coffee, fetching takeout, cleaning. Max saw my hard work, but he never once said a word in my defense. I dedicated years to the company, only to end up as a manager. Meanwhile, Cassie, having done nothing, went from a senior financial advisor hired at a million-dollar annual salary to Vice President. Max even personally backed her up, worried that someone might not be convinced. The more I thought about it, the more I felt those seven years of my life had been utterly wasted. But it was good that I had already decided to move on. Without hesitation, I accepted the partnership offer from Julian Vance, Max’s long-time rival. That same afternoon, I brought a pile of documents that needed Max’s signature to the company. Even though it was publicly announced that I was just taking a temporary break. Everyone seemed to assume I wouldn’t be coming back. My office had already been taken over by Cassie. The minimalist decor had been completely ripped out, replaced with Cassie’s favorite sky-blue. Even the photos of me and my partners on the wall were gone, replaced by intimate photos of her and Max, faces pressed together. Cassie looked at me, her face barely concealing her triumph. “Manager Hayes, what are you doing here?” “The investigation isn’t over yet, you’ll probably have to ‘rest’ for a while longer.” “I’ve taken over your previous work. Don’t worry, I’ll do an even better job than you.” I couldn’t be bothered to engage her and went straight to Max. The documents I brought were for him to approve before being handed over to Cassie. Max was about to review them carefully when he received an internal call from Cassie. “Max, I think I’m feeling a little dizzy.” “After you’re done with Manager Hayes, could you take me to the hospital?” Immediately, Max didn’t even bother to flip through the rest of the documents. He quickly signed his name at the bottom. He rushed to leave, but then turned and saw me still standing in his office with the documents, quietly watching him go. For some reason, Max felt a flicker of unease. He softened his voice, trying to reassure me. “Once this period is over, I’ll bring you back.” “Cassie is just temporarily covering your duties. You’ll still be the company manager then.” I smiled, saying nothing in response. Max, however, assumed I had agreed. He left without looking back. He didn’t see me pull out the one document I actually needed from that pile. It was boldly titled – “Resignation Letter.” 4、 Cassie, with her new position, immediately started making drastic changes. Not only did she cancel all employee benefits, but she also demanded that all future expenses had to be approved by her. Nutritious eighty-eight dollar meals were replaced by eight-dollar greasy takeout boxes. The usual endless afternoon tea and snacks were completely cut. She claimed to be saving on water bills, requiring each person to only use the company restroom once a day. The toilet paper usage couldn’t exceed two finger-widths. Then she declared she was saving electricity, and even during the hottest summer days, she demanded the air conditioning not be on for more than fifteen minutes a day. Everyone was utterly miserable, but Cassie wasn’t done yet. She even asked Max to cut everyone’s salaries in half. Max listened to her every whim. He had always felt that the salaries I had set were too high, and every payday, he’d felt a pang of pain. Now, with Cassie coming in and saving him so much money, he was overjoyed. He immediately bought her a million-dollar jewelry set. Cassie became even more brazen. She began preparing for the company’s annual gala, three days away. The gala was supposed to be a golden opportunity to showcase the company’s financial strength, lavish benefits on partners, and foster future collaborations. But Cassie merely glanced at the gift list I had originally prepared, then tore it to shreds. She scoffed, “It’s just a small annual gala, why make such a fuss and waste so much money?” “With Manager Hayes’ spending habits, no wonder the company wasn’t making money!” “Listen to me! Forget Australian and Boston lobsters! Swap them all for dead shrimp from the market, ten dollars for three pounds! And marinate them raw, nobody will taste the difference!” “And that ’82 Lafite? Change it to regular wine, the kind they sell at my local grocery store!” “Designer watches, necklaces — return all the genuine ones we bought before and just find a knock-off on Wish, right?” Everyone was shocked by Cassie’s outrageous directives. Someone even tried to dissuade her. “Vice President Pierce, is this really a good idea?” But Cassie’s eyes flared. “Are *you* Vice President or am *I* Vice President? Didn’t you hear what Max said?” “He said everything is to follow *my* plan! If you want to work, then work. If not, get out!” “There are plenty of people lining up for this offer!” When Chloe, my former assistant, secretly told me all the things Cassie was doing, I laughed uncontrollably, practically counting down the minutes until the annual gala! I couldn’t wait to see her publicly embarrass Max! 5、 On the day of the annual gala, though I wasn’t there in person, Cassie specifically sent me messages to gloat. 【Manager Hayes, looks like the company doesn’t really need you after all.】

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