Author: Momo Chan

I seduced my stepbrother. He’d shame me relentlessly in bed, but the hand gripping my thigh would only tighten. And after every time, Julian would never forget to add, “You’re just a toy for me to get off on. Know your place.” I’d always nod in agreement. Later, when I aced my college entrance exams, I defied him and enrolled in a university a thousand miles from home. Julian called to demand an explanation. “The pressure of retaking the exams was too much,” I said, my voice sincere. “It’s better to release the tension than to let it build up. You understand that, right?” “Joanna!” he roared. “Are you fucking telling me you used me as a vibrator?!” 01 “You’re just as pathetic as your mother.” “One seduced my dad, the other plays hard to get with me.” Julian’s abs were taut, each muscle defined like chiseled stone. Here we go again. I adjusted my breathing and rolled my eyes. It was always the same few lines in bed. He never got tired of saying them, but I was sick of hearing them. I mumbled a half-hearted “uh-huh,” ignoring the insults. They weren’t really insults, though. Every word he said was true. I bit my lip, tightening around him, and heard his breath hitch above me. “Fuck! If you’ve got a problem, say something! Are you just going to play dead every time?” I had no intention of making a sound. The most he ever got out of me was a muffled grunt. He’d been complaining about it for a while. “Can you stop with the dead-fish face?” I didn’t answer, just shifted my position. His breathing grew more ragged. “Don’t you fucking turn your back on me!” I cursed him silently, my face impassive. When it was over, he pulled on his clothes. “You’re just a toy for me to get off on. Know your place.” My whole body was buzzing with a pleasant exhaustion. My mind was hazy. “Yeah, I know,” I slurred. His response was the slam of the door. 02 Julian is my stepbrother. Last year, my mother met his father, Richard Chen. While I was cramming for my senior year exams, she was plotting her way into a wealthy family. After a year of our combined efforts, I missed my dream university by a hair, and she successfully became a trophy wife. So I started my second round of senior year—a “gap year” of intense studying. She started her own project: securing her position with a child. We both had bright futures ahead of us. That was a lie. She didn’t give a damn about me. I was just the consequence of her teenage mistake. 03 I learned to read people from a young age. After moving into the Chen mansion, I quickly realized the true center of power was this eighteen-year-old stepbrother of mine. Even the man of the house, Richard, had to tiptoe around him. I did some digging and found out Richard had married into the family. No wonder he’d waited ten years after his wife’s death to remarry. What goes around comes around. I had sworn I would never follow in my mother’s footsteps, but our paths were turning out to be eerily similar. Just like Julian said. I played the innocent, helpless girl for him. A classic move, but it worked. A newly-unleashed virgin, he was quickly hooked. And I started to reap the benefits. For one, this whole thing was surprisingly relaxing. After being completely drained, I could finally sleep without the nightmares. And I got to attend a top-tier tutoring program that cost a fortune per session. Of course, the tutors weren’t for me. They were for Julian, who was also a senior now. I was just a tag-along. But I was still satisfied. “Is it really that serious?” Julian sneered, looking down at me. “Acting like you’re dying just to get into college.” It was. It was very serious. I had no money and no father. The only way I could carve out a future for myself was through these exams. I couldn’t afford to be as nonchalant about life as he was. But I couldn’t say that. I smiled sweetly and, right under the tutor’s nose, snuggled into Julian’s arms. “I just want to be worthy of you,” I purred. A flash of disgust crossed his eyes, but he couldn’t say anything harsh in front of the teacher. He didn’t even push me away. He just shot me a glare and went back to his phone. I moved off his lap and gave the tutor a look of pure, unadulterated thirst for knowledge. No teacher can resist a dedicated student. The tutor, who had previously treated me like air, started to see me as a person. It wasn’t until the tutor left that Julian’s true, malicious nature revealed itself. He stood over me, arms crossed, a mocking smirk on his face. His eyes were full of playful cruelty. “Joanna, have you forgotten something? What we’re doing… it’s incest.” My body was stiff, my brain sluggish from hours of studying. “We’re not blood-related,” I blurted out. “And besides, you’ve never worn a condom.” The smirk froze on his face. He stared at me for a long moment before finally saying, “Joanna, you’re a real slut.” I didn’t know if I was a slut or not. But I knew he was into it. The Chen family was strict, which had fostered a nature in him that was polished on the outside and rotten on the inside. The more taboo something was, the more it drew him in. His dirty talk in bed was just his two brain cells fighting each other. One kneeling at the altar of desire, the other chaining itself to the high tower of morality. Basically, he wanted to have his cake and eat it too. Pathetic. 04 People are always striving for more. I wasn’t the only one with ideas about Julian. He was too dazzling. Family, looks, power. A true prince. In a high school full of average guys, he shone even brighter. “Julian, I… I like you!” I had just come from the office after checking my mock exam scores and saw them on the stairwell landing—the school’s most beautiful girl and Julian. I had stumbled right into her confession. The setting sun painted her cheeks a rosy red as she stammered out her feelings for him. It was a picture of pure, innocent love. Before the smile on my own face had a chance to fade, Julian looked up and saw me. I immediately wiped the smile off my face and stepped between them, placing myself protectively in front of him. “Can I help you?” I asked the girl. She froze, her fingers nervously clutching a letter. “Julian, this is for you. Please read it.” I waved her off with a smile. “Julian doesn’t accept confession letters.” As far as I knew, he had received countless advances since he started high school, and he had rejected every single one. After I got my hooks into him, I’d made sure no other female got within a ten-foot radius. He got at least a hundred love letters a month, and his response was always a polite, gentle refusal. The perfect gentleman. I expected him to do the same this time. But then, he smiled. “Okay. I’ll be sure to read it carefully.” I whipped my head around to look at him, and met his teasing gaze. The girl’s eyes lit up, sparkling and beautiful. In that moment, it felt like every beautiful word in the world could be used to describe her. I stared for a few seconds, a sense of crisis washing over me. Julian’s eyes followed her until she disappeared around the corner. I bit my lip. “Is she that pretty?” I asked. He turned his gaze on me, his eyes slowly raking over my body, lingering on my waist and chest. He didn’t say a word, but it felt like he had stripped me bare. He let out a short, sharp breath. “She’s the campus queen. Of course she’s pretty.” He lifted the pink envelope to his nose and inhaled deeply. Then he waved it in front of my face. A cool, gentle scent with an addictive, woody amber base. He smiled. “Dior Sauvage. A little more sophisticated than your cheap floral perfume, don’t you think?” 05 That night, I snuck into his room. He had just gotten out of the shower. A set of math competition problems lay on his desk. He frowned the moment he saw me. “Joanna, I told you, not in the house.” Deep down, he was repulsed by our illicit relationship. We never crossed the line of step-siblings at home. We’d go to a hotel when he needed it. Back at the Chen mansion, we were just… cordial. But the girl from today had really gotten to me. I slowly untied my bathrobe, revealing a slutty sailor costume underneath. In the silent room, I heard his breath catch. He didn’t tell me to leave. I knew I was showing him something new. The rich boy had probably never seen an outfit that consisted of just a few scraps of fabric. I walked over to his desk, sat on top of his exam papers, and stared at him. “I’m not wearing anything underneath,” I said, my first words of the night. Julian was on fire tonight. But I was happy to oblige. My homeroom teacher had told me my mock exam scores were excellent, that I had a real shot at the top university. The weight that had been crushing me for months had suddenly lifted. I needed a release. In the heat of the moment, a sound escaped my lips—half pain, half pleasure. Julian froze. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He looked wild, and sexy. He smirked. “What’s gotten into you today? Feeling jealous?” I shook my head. “You’re leaving for the competition in two days. I’ll miss you.” His face instantly went cold. He leaned in and bit my earlobe, hard. “Don’t,” he growled, each word a separate, sharp jab, “make me sick.” But his movements only became more urgent, more forceful. Bruises bloomed on my hips from his fingers.

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Three years into my marriage to one of the Shin brothers—and my best friend’s to the other—the woman they’d never gotten over came back. At the family dinner, Caleb Shin, my friend’s husband, landed a vicious slap across her face for defending that woman. When I rushed over, Anna collapsed into my arms, sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. “Phoebe, I can’t take this anymore! That bastard hit me, he actually hit me for her!” “I have to get out of here. What about you?” I thought of Damian Shin, my own husband. His growing coldness since Isabelle Thorne returned, the nights he never came home. A bitter smile touched my lips. “If you’re running, I’m running with you.” We planned for weeks, a secret whispered between us. Finally, we were on a plane, slipping away from it all without a soul knowing. But as I settled into my seat, my eyes met a face as cold as a glacier. Damian. Just like that, we were dragged back and locked in a dark room in the Shin manor to “reflect” on our actions. As I racked my brain, trying to figure out which part of our perfect plan had gone wrong, Anna’s voice, small and weak, broke the silence. “I’m so sorry, Phoebe… I did it for your own good.” 1 For a moment, I didn’t process her words. I just stared at her. “What are you talking about?” Anna was already terrified of the dark. My flat, emotionless question was the final crack in her composure. She shrank back, finally confessing in a timid whisper. “Please don’t be mad.” “Damian… he’s the head of Shin Corp. The man is terrifyingly smart! He knew something was up with us for ages!” “The day we left, I had just grabbed my suitcase and opened my door, and there he was. A face that could freeze hell over. He was waiting for me!” “You know how scared I am of your husband, especially when he gets that look. He started grilling me, and I was too terrified to even lie. I told him everything…” I couldn’t believe it. Our escape had been sabotaged from the inside. A firestorm of anger raged in my gut, but one look at Anna’s face—a canvas of genuine fear and remorse—softened the edges of my fury. A headache began to throb at my temples. I rubbed the bridge of my nose, forcing my voice to be gentle. “Then why didn’t you tell me on the way to the airport? If he knew, we could have just canceled the plan, thrown him off our trail, and figured something else out later.” “But now look at us. He has all the leverage…” At the mention of this, Anna’s own anger flared. “It’s all Damian’s fault!” “I thought, okay, even if he was going to stop us, he’d just take you back. I never imagined he’d interfere with me! I’m not his wife!” …Such a naive thought. That was my best friend. Wonderful in every way, but so naive it bordered on foolishness. The Shin brothers’ father died young. Damian, as the eldest, saw himself as a father figure to Caleb. Once he knew our plan, how could he possibly let her go? Especially after the scene she’d made at the family dinner just days ago. If she left alone right now, what kind of rumors would start flying? I sighed, closing my eyes to hide the wave of exhaustion. I had poured so much of myself into planning this escape. Anna watched my face, her own expression crumbling, on the verge of tears. She suddenly threw her arms around my legs, her pout dramatic. “I’m sorry, Phoebe! Please don’t be mad, okay?” “I was just trying to do what was best for you! Before I told him, I thought about it really hard. Damian is good to you, you know? He gives you anything you want.” “If you’d really run away with me, we might have had to struggle for a long, long time.” “I couldn’t bear the thought of you suffering. So I figured, if you stayed with Damian, at least you’d be protected.” She paused, her face twisting with bitterness. “Besides, Caleb obviously doesn’t want me anymore.” “I’m sure Damian told him about our plan the second he found out.” “But look—Caleb didn’t even react. He didn’t try to stop me. He didn’t care that I was leaving.” “It doesn’t matter if you escape or not. But him… he really doesn’t love me anymore.” Her tears extinguished the last embers of my anger. My heart ached for her. I pulled her into a tight hug, about to offer some comfort, when the door to the dark room was kicked open with a loud bang. Caleb stood in the doorway, his face a thundercloud as he glared at Anna. “Well, look at you, Anna. Gotten brave, have we? The girl who gets lost five blocks from home thinks she can run away? Who gave you the guts?” “So I slapped you the other day. Big deal. You haven’t exactly held back on me our whole lives, have you? Is this really necessary?” 2 They had known each other since they were kids, and every argument inevitably turned into them dredging up the past. Just as I expected, Anna shot to her feet, her voice sharp with anger. “You think what happened then is the same as what happened the other day?” “That was when we were kids! We were just playing around!” Caleb’s eye twitched. He crossed his arms, his expression flat. “Right. Playing around.” “When we were nine, you pulled my chair out from under me as I stood up to answer a question in class. I hit my head on the desk behind me and got a mild concussion.” “When we were thirteen, you tied my shoelaces together while I was sleeping. I fell, broke my leg, and spent New Year’s in the hospital.” “To you, that’s all ‘playing around.’ Well, after all these years, I only slapped you once. Seems to me, I was being pretty generous.” This kind of sparring was their normal. Watching them, I felt an unexpected pang of envy. Anna was cornered, her face flushed as she struggled for a response. Finally, the anger drained away, replaced by an icy calm. “Whatever you say. You still hit me for another woman.” “Caleb, I’ll remember this for the rest of my life.” “Even if I can’t leave today, this marriage is over.” Anyone who knew her understood that as long as she was yelling and fighting, it wasn’t serious. But when she lost the energy to even argue, that’s when you knew her heart was truly broken. The gravity of the situation finally seemed to hit Caleb. Realizing he couldn’t just charm his way out of this one, his expression sobered. He sighed and, to my surprise, turned to me. “You shouldn’t just be watching the show, Phoebe. You’re the one who really needs to think about what you’ve done.” “Anna and I have our issues, sure, misunderstandings we need to sort out. But my brother… he’s respected you for three years. He’s given you all the dignity a Shin wife could ask for.” “You never should have gotten involved in Anna’s little drama today.” Anna sniffled, her attention turning to me as well. “Yeah, Phoebe, I never asked… why did you want to leave with me?” “I always thought Damian treated you with respect. He never embarrassed you in public, he gave you money to spend… not like my situation…” She shot a venomous glare at Caleb and snorted. “I had no choice but to leave!” I froze, then lowered my eyes with a humorless smile. Respect. Everyone else could see it so clearly. Even someone as oblivious as Anna could see it. For Damian, all he ever had for me was respect. I used to think that for a man as cold as him, respect and dignity were all he was capable of giving. But after Isabelle Thorne came back, I learned the truth. He was capable of love. 3 Unlike Anna and Caleb’s childhood romance, my marriage to Damian was a simple business arrangement. At first, I told myself he was just reserved and composed from years of running Shin Corp. A loveless, arranged marriage was bound to be a bit cold. But after three years, I often wondered if his coldness went too far. We were husband and wife, but outside of family dinners at the manor and polite greetings in the morning and evening, we barely spoke. If I tried to show a little concern, I’d be met with a curt: “I don’t like needy women.” Or, “Don’t do unnecessary things.” If his mother wasn’t pressuring him for a grandchild, I doubt he would have touched me more than a handful of times a month. And even when he did, it was like a chore, a duty he was performing for his elders. He’d work with a silent focus, and the moment he was finished, he would pull away without a trace of tenderness and head for the shower. No lingering touch, no shared warmth. I never felt an ounce of affection from him. If I didn’t have Anna for company in the sprawling estate, the loneliness would have driven me mad long ago. I knew he wouldn’t change for me, so I forced myself to adapt, to accept his chilling indifference. Until Isabelle Thorne came back. I watched him carefully the day he took her call. Longing, excitement, regret, resolve. For the first time, I saw a storm of complex emotions cross his perpetually frozen face. And in that moment, I knew how wrong I had been. The day Isabelle returned was my birthday. I’d swallowed my pride and begged him for days, finally getting him to agree to spend it with me like a normal couple. A shopping trip, a movie, a candlelit dinner. But after that phone call, he didn’t even spare me a glance. As he rushed out the door, he threw a careless excuse over his shoulder. “Urgent business at the office. I’ll take you out when I get back.” Clinging to that promise, I waited, my makeup flawless, my hope stubborn. I waited for hours. Because I knew that was one thing about Damian: he never broke a promise. But I sat there as the sun climbed high and then sank below the horizon, the moon taking its place. My heart sank with it, piece by piece, into a dark abyss. At three in the morning, staring at the long list of rejected calls on my phone, I dialed his number one last time. This is your last chance, Damian, I thought. Decline this one, and I’m done. But this time, he answered. I was stunned. A tidal wave of emotions rushed to my lips, but I didn’t know what to say. Before I could speak, a sound came from the other end of the line. An intimate, breathless gasp. Raw, heated, and intense. Followed by his low, husky laugh. “Kiss me.” It was a tone he’d never used with me in bed. Utterly different. He didn’t need to say anything else. I understood everything. And my heart turned to ash. So, he wasn’t a mountain incapable of feeling. He just wouldn’t tremble for me. … After hearing my story, Anna threw her arms around my neck, her voice thick with emotion. “Oh, Phoebe, why didn’t you tell me sooner? I had no idea you were going through all that.” “If I had known, I swear, even if Damian had skinned me alive today, I would never have told him our plan!” Caleb, who had been listening silently, hesitated. “Phoebe, my brother, he…” Anna cut him off, her eyes red. “Get out! You and your brother are both bastards! Get out!” She kicked and yelled until Caleb finally retreated. Turning back to me, she saw the lingering bitterness on my face and hugged me tighter. “Ugh, how did we both get so unlucky?” “We gave our hearts to the wrong men…” I let out a quiet sigh. When you give your heart to the wrong person, the only thing to do is take it back. I forced myself to rally, managing a weak smile. “It’s okay. We still have a chance.” “We failed this time, so we’ll just try again.” “But next time,” I added, looking her straight in the eye, “you are not allowed to sell me out.” 4 At dinner, Anna and I were finally released. Several of the Shin elders had gathered at the manor, and to my surprise, Isabelle Thorne was there too. Truthfully, among the younger generation present, my family background made me the least qualified to marry Damian Shin. The only reason I was his wife was because my family, the Shen family, had provided crucial help when Shin Corp was just starting out. Our marriage wasn’t so much a strategic alliance as it was a repayment of that debt, a way to elevate my family’s status. Because of this, my mother-in-law, Eleanor Shin, held me in the lowest regard. When she heard about our escape attempt, she lectured Anna with a few mild rebukes. But when her gaze landed on me, her face transformed, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Anna was upset, it’s understandable for her to have a little tantrum.” “But you, Phoebe. As the eldest daughter-in-law of this family, instead of calming her down, you joined in on the foolishness? How utterly common. You clearly come from a family with no real standing, acting without thinking. What an embarrassment.” I wasn’t being foolish. And since everyone was here, it was the perfect time to clear the air. I threw a cool glance at Isabelle and was about to speak. But she beat me to it, her voice a soft, cloying purr. “Oh, Eleanor, don’t be angry. I was partly to blame for this, too. That’s why I came today, to explain.” “The day I got back, I accidentally answered a call on Damian’s phone from an unsaved number. The person on the other end didn’t say anything and just hung up.” “Thinking back, it must have been you, Phoebe, wasn’t it? Did you misunderstand something? Is that why you ran away?” She smiled sweetly, but her eyes held a glint of triumph. I pulled at the corner of my mouth, my expression blank. “So? What is your explanation?” “What were you two doing that day?” She giggled, a picture of false innocence. “I’d just gotten back, and I missed Damian so much! We were just… catching up!” Catching up with breathless, intimate gasps? That must have been quite the emotional reunion. A cold smirk formed on my lips. I was about to expose the truth. But Damian had finally had enough. “That’s enough,” he snapped, his voice low and dangerous. “If you’re going to cause a scene, get out.” His eyes were downcast, not looking at anyone in particular, but I could feel his gaze fixed on me from the corner of his eye. He was warning me. But I had been sitting here quietly, having spoken only one sentence. Who was really causing the scene? A sharp pain lanced through my heart. It took all my strength to keep the tears from falling. Beneath the table, Anna squeezed my hand, whispering, “What’s the call? Do we go to war? I’ve got your back.” “This is why we married into the same family, right? To have a united front against evil mothers-in-law and useless husbands.” “I’m still a little scared of Damian, but for you, I’ll fight.” I gave a bitter smile and shook my head. It’s not worth it. I no longer had any hope for this family. Damian’s outburst silenced the table for a while. But it wasn’t long before Eleanor couldn’t help herself, her voice once again laced with condescension. “Some people just have no class.” “I always preferred Isabelle, of course, but your grandfather insisted on repaying your family’s debt. What could I do?” “I’m certain that if Isabelle had married into our family, she would never throw a jealous fit over something so baseless. She wouldn’t have caused such a humiliating scene.” “Phoebe, since you married up, you need to learn your place. In our circle, a man is never going to have just one woman. Even if the rumors were true, you’d be expected to tolerate it. Do you understand?” “You can’t have it all, dear.” Her tone was so high and mighty, as if my marriage into the Shin family was an act of her charity. Anna, with her explosive temper, had been simmering for a while. Her chair scraped against the floor as she shot up, ready to unleash a torrent of fury. But before she could speak, Caleb and I grabbed her wrists from either side, pulling her back down. I shook my head, too tired to even force a smile. There was no point in arguing anymore. If I still held any hope for this family, for Damian, maybe I would have fought back. But I was already determined to leave. Fighting with them now was utterly meaningless. 5 After dinner, Damian and I returned to our room. Since Isabelle’s return, he had often stayed out all night. Eventually, it became days at a time. We were a married couple, but thinking about it, other than being caught at the airport today, we hadn’t seen each other in nearly two weeks. Being alone with him in the same room now felt suffocating, filled with an awkward, unfamiliar tension. I couldn’t stand the oppressive atmosphere. I silently moved to walk past him toward the bathroom. Suddenly, his hand shot out, gripping my arm. His voice was heavy. “In the Shin family, there is no divorce. Only death.” “You are my wife. That is for life. You cannot run.” “I don’t want this to ever happen again. Do you understand?” His grip was painfully tight, as if he truly feared I would escape again, as if he could hold me here by force. But on what grounds? No divorce, only death. It was meant to be a vow of fidelity, but for me, those words had only ever been shackles. Had they ever constrained him? I curled my lip into a sarcastic smile. “In that case, if I insist on a divorce, will you die for me?” His brow furrowed. He didn’t answer my question, only said, “You know that’s not what I mean.” “Isabelle and I are in the past…” “Enough!” I cut him off, my face a cold mask. “I don’t want to fight with you, and I don’t care about your past.” “Let’s just… go back to how things were before.” Without another look at him, I fled into the bathroom. The warm water cascaded over my body, bringing a sliver of clarity to my chaotic mind. His words had, in a way, given me an idea. Simply running away would always leave loose ends. But death wouldn’t. If the only way out was widowhood, then I would die for him to see.

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On my wedding day, Steven Cole didn’t come. He just had a friend deliver a card with a generous amount of cash inside. I laughed it off. “He’s an ex to both of us. Why play favorites?” The rumor was, when Steven’s first love got married years ago, he not only sent an extravagant gift but also showed up in person to congratulate her. As the reception was winding down, I glanced up and saw a familiar silhouette flicker in the window of the second-floor VIP lounge. My husband, Chad, came over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders. His tone was light. “Thank God that’s over. You have no idea how terrified I was that Steven would show up and crash the wedding.” I chuckled. “As if.” “You didn’t see it? He viewed our digital invitation 1,032 times. Just him.” I paused. My gaze dropped. “It doesn’t matter,” I said softly. “None of that matters anymore.” 1 Chad Felbain and I had a marriage of convenience. We were around the same age, with similar histories. We’d known each other for years and had a mutual respect for each other’s character. And, as it happened, we both needed to get married. It was a perfect match. On our wedding night, Chad asked if I was… open to consummating the marriage. I met his gaze with a playful smile. “I didn’t exactly get married to become a nun.” He was a gentleman, always considerate of my feelings. The lights went out, the kiss happened, but just before the final moment, he asked, “When you see me, do you think of Steven?” After all, he and Steven used to be best friends. I closed my eyes, my arms around his shoulders, and countered, “When you see me, do you think of Camilla?” I’d never met Camilla Reed, but from what Chad had mentioned, his ex-girlfriend was stunning. Chad fell silent. Thinking I’d touched a nerve, I quickly apologized. “I’m sorry. Just pretend I never asked that.” He stroked my hair, his voice softening into a gentle laugh. “You don’t need to apologize.” He looked at me, his expression suddenly serious. “Elara, let’s make this work. A real life together. For the rest of our lives.” I nodded. “Okay.” After a moment, I added, “We’ll both give it our best. But if the day ever comes when you want a divorce, you have to tell me.” The most important clause in our prenuptial agreement was honesty. Love wasn’t a requirement for our marriage. Respect was. Once you’re past the age of believing love can conquer all, you realize that all that dramatic, all-consuming passion is… overrated. I believed I deserved to be happy, even if my marriage didn’t have love. 2 My marriage to Chad was more pleasant than I could have imagined. He was a thoughtful man. He paid attention to my tastes, surprising me with little gifts. The day his salary hit his account, he transferred it all to me without a second thought. His habits were so uncannily similar to Steven’s that I didn’t know whether to praise their shared history as best friends or to praise the ex-girlfriends who had trained them so well. I accepted the transfer, kept a portion for our joint expenses, and sent the rest back to him. He looked at me, confused. “What’s this?” “This is a partnership, not a hostile takeover. I’m not going to manage your finances.” “Besides, you have your own life, friends, work dinners. It’s a pain to have to ask me for money every time.” “I have a separate account we barely use. Let’s both deposit a set amount into it each month for household expenses and social obligations.” Chad didn’t argue. He just nodded. “Okay.” Occasionally, he’d come home late from a work function, drunk and draped over a colleague, clinging to me like a koala when I opened the door. I’d play the part of a good wife: helping him with his shoes and clothes, wiping his face, brewing a hangover remedy. He would cling to my hand, his voice a tender, drunken slur, repeating my name over and over. “Elara… Elara… Elara.” And I would answer every time, patiently. “I’m here. I’m here. I’m here.” Because we weren’t in love, we never fought. Those small moments of warmth and happiness grew into something else—a blend of familial affection and deep friendship. It wasn’t love, but it felt more solid, more dependable. I didn’t have to worry if my husband loved me or someone else. I didn’t have to second-guess a lipstick stain on his collar, wondering if it was a careless mistake or a deliberate betrayal. When you remove love from the equation, you find you have so much more room for peace. The next morning, Chad woke up and explained why he’d been so drunk, thanking me for taking care of him. “I used to feel awful the morning after drinking, but today I feel great.” He waved his arms and kicked his legs in amazement, his face a mask of pure admiration. “It’s a miracle.” “Steven used to go to a lot of work dinners. He’d always be miserable the next day. I felt bad for him, so I asked around and learned all the tricks for taking care of someone who’s had too much.” Chad paused for a beat. “You really learned a lot for him.” I shrugged, feigning indifference. “It’s nothing. You learned plenty of ways to be considerate for your girlfriend, didn’t you? We’re both just reaping the benefits of what our exes sowed.” Chad benefited from my care, and I benefited from his thoughtfulness. People aren’t born knowing how to love. We learn through a series of relationships, meeting different people, discovering different ways of being together. The irony is that we learn from our failed relationships and become better people, but we rarely get the chance to go back and fix our past mistakes. Both Chad and I were deeply marked by the ghosts of our exes. “Do you think of Steven often, when you look at me?” Chad asked. I admitted it freely. “Sometimes. You have some of the exact same habits.” “Like what?” “Like transferring your salary, the goodbye kiss before work every morning, the surprise flowers.” I smiled. “Your ex-girlfriends must have really valued the little things.” Chad’s lips thinned, but he said nothing. “Oh, by the way, that lipstick stain on your shirt last night—” I started, watching his reaction carefully. “Let me be clear, I’m not accusing you of anything. But we agreed before we got married: no hiding your feelings.” I had told him explicitly that I wouldn’t mind if he developed feelings for someone else. My only condition was honesty. A divorce isn’t a small thing; it involves two families. I needed to be prepared. “Don’t overthink it. The lipstick was an accident.” For the first time, he frowned at me. “I swear, I’m completely innocent.” He launched into a frantic, detailed explanation of how it happened, practically offering to cut his heart out to prove his sincerity. He was so panicked I would misunderstand. He was still explaining long after I’d tuned out. Finally, I had to surrender. “Okay, okay, I believe you! Really, I do!” Before he left for work, Chad did his usual routine, cupping my face for a goodbye kiss. But instead of the light, fleeting touch it usually was, today’s kiss was heavy, charged with a suppressed intensity. He gave my cheek a playful, almost frustrated nip. “From now on, I’m not kissing you. You have to kiss me.” His tone held a rare, childish pout. I glanced at him, surprised, then remembered what I’d said earlier. It clicked. Even though I was truly over Steven, he was still my ex. He had left a deep and undeniable mark on my life. I probably shouldn’t have brought him up so casually in the context of my marriage to Chad. Chad, after all, was always careful. He never brought up his ex. In that, I was wrong. So, I followed his new rule. I stood on my toes and gave him a firm, deliberate kiss on the lips, a silent apology. 3 I started noticing more and more things about Chad that were different from Steven. And the less I thought of Steven, the more Chad came into focus. Time flew. A year passed since our wedding. I knew Chad would have a surprise planned for our anniversary, so I told my colleagues I was leaving early. Relationships are a two-way street. He was good to me, and I wanted to be good to him. What I didn’t expect was to find Steven Cole waiting for me outside my office building. A good ex should be like a dead person: gone and silent. Even with our tangled history, I never planned on seeing him again. Putting myself in someone else’s shoes, I knew I wouldn’t have wanted Steven to stay in touch with his ex, so I assumed his new girlfriend wouldn’t want him in touch with me. “Long time no see,” Steven said, breaking the silence. I nodded but didn’t slow my pace. “In a hurry? Rushing home to celebrate your anniversary with Chad?” he asked, a tight smile on his face. “I am,” I said, meeting his eyes without flinching. “So I don’t really have time to catch up.” He hadn’t expected me to be so direct. A flicker of pain crossed his face before he forced the smile wider. “No rush. I don’t think Chad will have time to celebrate with you today.” “Is that so?” I said, unconcerned. He stepped in front of me, blocking my path. “Wait.” I sighed, exasperated, and finally stopped. “Steven, what do you want?” “Aren’t you curious why Chad doesn’t have time for you on your anniversary?” “Not really. If he can’t make it, he’ll tell me why himself.” Steven’s jaw tightened. “You trust him that much?” “I do,” I said, my voice steady. “The same way I used to trust you.” I watched the color drain from his face, surprised that I felt no satisfaction, only a hollow ache. “Whatever Chad’s reason is for breaking our date, I doubt it could possibly hurt more than the day I walked in and found you in bed with your first love.” 4 Steven and I broke up right before our wedding. The fallout was messy, but our actual breakup was quiet. I had always known about his first love, the one he’d been with for ten years. I knew they hadn’t broken up because they fell out of love. Her parents thought his family wasn’t wealthy enough and forced her to marry some rich heir. It would be a lie to say it didn’t bother me, but I loved Steven, so I accepted it. And Steven was genuinely good to me. All his passwords were my birthday. He pinned my chat to the top of his contacts. He filled our life with thoughtful, romantic gestures. He worked long hours, but from the day we moved in together, he always tried to pick me up from work. He wasn’t a great cook, but he had mastered the few dishes I loved. He had so many good qualities, enough to make a naive girl like me fall headfirst into a sweet trap with no hope of escape. We were together for three years and never had a real fight. The occasional disagreement was always resolved with a calm, rational conversation. I used to think that was just his personality. That I was the luckiest girl in the world to have found such a perfect man. Only later did I understand. The reason he was so good, so perfect, was simple. He didn’t love me. Love, in its true form, is ugly and blind. It makes you crazy. It fills you with jealousy and envy. It drives you to do irrational things. But not Steven. He was always patient, always understanding. And always, just out of my reach. 5 The first time I felt like I saw the real Steven was the day his first love got divorced. He came home late from work that night, his mood heavy. I thought he’d had a bad day at the office, so I tried everything to cheer him up—a massage, a back rub. He forced a smile for me, but it never lasted long. He was silent when we went to bed, holding me tight, his mind a million miles away. “What’s wrong?” I asked softly, running my fingers through his hair. He pulled me closer, his voice muffled. “Nothing.” “Really?” I didn’t believe him for a second. “Really,” he insisted, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Go to sleep. Good night.” I was worried about him, and my sleep was restless. I woke up in the middle of the night to find him sitting on the windowsill, his back to me, the screen of his phone casting a pale blue light on his face. A woman’s intuition is a powerful thing. The next morning, while Steven was in the shower, I unlocked his phone. And I saw the message from his ex. [I’m divorced.] Steven hadn’t replied, but I wasn’t naive enough to think it hadn’t affected him. It was the reason for his mood, his sleepless night. I knew they had ten years of history between them. His entire youth was painted with her shadow. It would be unreasonable to expect him to feel nothing. I told myself to be understanding. But a part of me couldn’t help the bitter thought that while everything with him was a first for me—my first time holding hands, my first hug, my first kiss—I was not his first. All the wonderful ways he treated me were habits he’d learned with her. It felt like once you left your school days behind, every person you fell in love with carried the imprint of their ex. But Steven and I were about to get married. Both our families approved. We were already looking at houses. I suppressed the sour feeling in my stomach and decided to give him some time to process it. I was so naive back then. I thought everyone neatly closed the door on one relationship before starting another. I never, ever considered that Steven and I would break up. But I didn’t know that so many people walk forward while constantly looking back, hurting the person beside them and the one they left behind. 6 Steven wouldn’t let me leave. We were near my office, and the last thing I wanted was to cause a scene. So I got in his car. The moment I sat in the passenger seat, I froze. I had spent three years in this car. I had picked out all the decorations myself. The two smiling bobbleheads on the dashboard were still there. The air freshener was still the scent I’d chosen. Even the recline of the passenger seat was exactly as I had left it. I didn’t feel nostalgic. I just felt… amused. Why do people only start to appreciate what they had after it’s gone? “You know Camilla Reed, right?” Steven said, handing me a thick stack of photos. “She’s back in the country.” “Oh?” “From what I hear, Chad and Camilla have been seeing a lot of each other. Looks like they might be rekindling an old flame.” “So? What does that have to do with you?” “Of course it has to do with me!” His voice suddenly rose with agitation. “If you can forgive Chad, why couldn’t you forgive me?” “Because my expectations for you were too high. I couldn’t accept the reality of your betrayal.” I gathered the photos and looked at him, my voice calm. “Do you know? When I was with you, the thought of breaking up never once crossed my mind.” “I loved you. And I truly believed that you loved me back.” “Every single day I was with you, I was happy.” “I loved the way you smelled, the feeling of safety in your arms, the simple act of walking side by side with my hand on your arm.” “My devotion to you was almost blind.” “But you, Steven, you destroyed every bit of trust I had in love and marriage.” “You turned all my commitment, all my joy, into a joke.” “Today, if Chad really is cheating on me, anyone in the world has the right to stand here and condemn him for hurting me.” “Anyone but you, Steven. You don’t have that right.” “No man will ever hurt me more than you did.”

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Three months pregnant, and my own husband sent me to prison. Before signing the confession, I asked him one last time, “Can I… not take the fall for this?” “You’re pregnant. You can apply to serve your sentence outside of prison. You won’t suffer.” “But Lila can’t. She’s not strong enough. Jail time would kill her.” He even made a promise. “Think of it as a sacrifice for our child’s future. When you get out, we’ll get married.” I asked him, “You once told me I owed her a life. Are we even now?” Kim Vance nodded and said he would be grateful to me for the rest of his life. So, I signed the confession. But just before I walked through the prison gates, I terminated the pregnancy. Later, Kim truly lost his mind. He would grab me, his eyes bloodshot, and demand to know why I had killed his child. I would just look at him, my gaze cold as ice. “Because my child can’t have a mother in prison, and a monster for a father.” “Everything that happened before… I was naive.” “From this moment on, Kim.” “We’re even.” 1 The day I was released from prison, no one came to pick me up. The guard walked me to the gate. Seeing the empty street outside, she asked how I would get home. I didn’t have a single dollar on me. The bag in my hand held the only clothes I owned, and it felt weightless. Like my life, carrying no weight at all. I squinted at the brilliant sun and smiled. “I’ll figure it out. I may not have money, but I have feet.” The guard hesitated, reaching for her wallet. “It’s okay. My home isn’t far from here. It’s a quick walk,” I said, declining her kindness. I picked up my bag and started the journey home. I had expected no one would come, so before I went in, I had memorized the map. From the prison to my apartment was a two-hour and seventeen-minute walk. Not too far, really. In a year and a half, the city hadn’t changed much. The stadium that had been under construction before I went in was still only half-finished. While waiting at a red light, my gaze drifted to a baby stroller next to me. The mother noticed me looking and gave me a kind smile. I smiled back. “How old is your little one?” “One year.” “So cute,” I said, bending down to make a silly face at the baby. The baby gurgled, waving tiny fists in the air. The light turned green. I straightened up and disappeared into the surging crowd. I finally reached my front door just as dusk was settling. The old security door was covered in a thick layer of dust. I found the spare key in the mailbox and let myself in. On the shoe cabinet sat a framed photo. I picked it up, using my sleeve to wipe away the dust, and managed a faint smile. “Mom, I’m home.” 2 It took some time to reintegrate myself into society. With a criminal record, finding a job was a struggle. To make ends meet, I took a job sorting packages at a logistics warehouse. A week later, I collapsed on the warehouse floor and was rushed to the hospital by my coworkers. The abortion, followed by the harsh reality of prison life, had taken its toll on my body. I couldn’t push myself like I used to. I had to quit. I signed up as a delivery driver, planning to save up for a couple of years and maybe start a small business. These days, a bachelor’s degree isn’t worth much. A bachelor’s degree with a prison record is worth even less. Driving for a delivery service was still tough work, but it was better than the warehouse. The hours were flexible, which suited me. I had a good weekend, and just before I was about to log off for the night, a large order came in with a high delivery fee. The distance was far, and I worried my e-scooter didn’t have enough charge. But I couldn’t bring myself to pass up the money. I accepted the order. The drop-off was at an exclusive, notoriously expensive private club. When I arrived, I called the customer, and he told me to bring it directly to his private room. The delivery box was huge. I struggled to carry it, found the room, and knocked. “Hi, your delivery. Please sign here.” “Just put it over there.” The familiar voice made my eyelashes tremble. I silently did as I was told, placing the box in a corner. The room was alive with noise and laughter, filled with a dozen men and women. Luxury gift boxes were piled in a corner. In the center of the room, a magnificent three-tiered cake sat on a table. I was about to leave when someone called out, “Hey, delivery girl, wait a second.” I froze. “It’s my birthday today. Please, have a slice of cake. Thanks for bringing our food this late at night.” I looked up. My face was mostly hidden by my helmet, so no one recognized me. The woman standing before me had a face that was both beautiful and vulnerable. She smiled and held out a piece of cake. Her name was Lila. She used to be my friend. A sharp pain, like a shard of glass, pierced through me, so deep it felt like it was in my bones. It was hard to speak. I took the cake, my voice raspy. “Thank you.” As I turned to leave, I didn’t notice the figure that had appeared behind me. By the time I saw him, it was too late to stop. I watched, helpless, as the cake splattered across his chest, ruining his shirt. Kim looked down at the sticky mess, then up at me. He said nothing. The room had fallen silent. Someone snickered. “That shirt’s a goner. It’s a fifteen-thousand-dollar shirt. Can you afford to replace that?” “It’s okay, don’t be scared. It was an accident. We won’t make you pay. You can go,” Lila said, rushing over. She soothed me with a gentle voice while grabbing a napkin to clean Kim’s shirt. Kim didn’t move. He just kept staring at me. Then, he reached out and pulled off my helmet. 3 No one looks good after wearing a helmet for a long time. The room was now completely silent. Even the music had stopped. I smoothed down my messy hair and held out my hand to Kim. “Had enough of a look? Can I have my helmet back?” “Is that… Candy? You’re out? So soon? Weren’t you sentenced to three years?” someone in the room finally spoke. I ignored them, my eyes fixed on Kim. “Candy,” Lila said, grabbing my wrist. “Why didn’t you call me when you got out? There’s so much I want to tell you.” I paid her no mind, my only goal to retrieve my helmet. But Kim wouldn’t let go. I had to use some force, but I finally yanked it back. “If you don’t mind, a five-star rating would be appreciated,” I said, forcing a smile. I put my helmet back on and walked out. “Candy, don’t you have anything to say?” Kim’s voice stopped me at the door. I turned, my gaze falling on Lila. My tone was flat. “Happy birthday, Lila.” On the way home, just as I’d feared, my e-scooter died. I had to get off and push it the rest of the way. In the dead of night, a few luxury cars sped past me. I kept my eyes on the road, carefully navigating around potholes, focused only on pushing the scooter home. It was past midnight when I finally arrived. I made myself a simple bowl of noodles and ate it in the dark, the dim yellow glow of the streetlights outside casting long shadows in my small apartment. I wasn’t sleepy after I ate, so I took out my mother’s photo and sat by the window, talking to myself. “Mom, are you doing okay over there? Did you get the money I burned for you?” “Have you met my baby? Is he cute?” “Please, help him find a perfect mother next time. Don’t let him be so unlucky as to end up with me again.” “Mom, I miss you.” 4 That night, I had a dream for the first time in a long while. I dreamed of the past. I hadn’t dreamed in ages. The year and a half in prison had smoothed away what little fight I had left in me. I rarely thought about the past. Life in prison was rigid: wake up, work, eat, sleep. It was hell at first. I would sit on my cot, eyes wide open, counting the seconds until dawn. But eventually, I adapted. And then, I stopped thinking at all. It’s too painful to live with your eyes wide open. Being numb is better. It doesn’t matter if you can’t feel happiness, as long as you don’t feel too much pain. But the girl in my dream was so vibrant, her smile so full of life. When I woke up, a wave of sadness washed over me. How had I become this person? The woman in the mirror had empty, lifeless eyes. I tried to force a cheerful smile, practicing for a world I no longer recognized. The knock on the door came while the smile was still plastered on my face. It froze the moment I saw Kim standing outside. He saw my lack of reaction and spoke first. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?” “I’d rather not,” I said, my hand tight on the doorknob. “What do you want?” He held out a business card. “Call this person. He’ll arrange a job for you.” “Thank you for the offer, but no.” He let out a short, derisive laugh, as if my pride was pathetic. “Candy, don’t push your luck.” I just stared at him, silent. Kim looked away. “Even though you got rid of the baby without talking to me, my offer still stands.” It took me a long moment to remember the promise he had made before I went to prison. He had said he would marry me when I got out. A real smile finally touched my lips. Kim visibly relaxed. “Stop being angry. Lila said she’s grateful to you, too. We should all get together sometime…” “Kim, that was your promise, not mine. It doesn’t count.” I cut him off, watching the relief drain from his face. My voice was soft. “I’m not so pathetic that I would marry a man who doesn’t love me, who has never even respected me.” “All I have ever wanted was for us to be even.” “Even if it meant sacrificing my future.” 5 Kim left. His parting words were, “Candy, don’t regret this.” I soon understood what he meant. During the lunch rush, I came out from a delivery to find my e-scooter gone. Along with it, a dozen orders I hadn’t yet delivered. I stood on the sidewalk, phone in hand, staring blankly at the street. People hurried past me, their lives uninterrupted. I had to call each customer, one by one, to apologize and offer compensation. Then I reported the theft to the police. They told me the security camera in that area was broken. They would try to find my scooter, but they couldn’t make any promises. I walked out of the police station and looked at the string of one-star reviews and complaints on my delivery app. I took a deep breath and managed a weak, humorless smile. I had enough money in my account to buy another scooter. But what if the second one was stolen, too? I crouched on the sidewalk for a long time, lost in thought, until a little girl with a backpack timidly tapped my shoulder. “Miss, are you okay?” I smiled at her. “I’m just a little tired, sweetie. Resting for a minute.” She thought for a moment, then pulled a candy from her pocket and offered it to me. “Here, have a candy.” “Thank you.” Fueled by that small act of kindness, I found the strength to go home and start working on my resume. A regular company wouldn’t hire me, but there were always smaller businesses with lower standards. But my criminal record was a constant obstacle. In every interview, the question would come up. “You’ve been to prison?” I’d nod. “Yes.” “For a hit-and-run?” “Yes.” “But… you don’t have a driver’s license?” “That’s correct.” The HR manager would fall silent, then politely hand my resume back, saying they’d “consider” it. I thought of Kim telling me that Lila was too fragile for prison. He never considered that because I didn’t have a license, my sentence would be harsher. But that was to be expected. You can’t ask someone who has never cared about you to see things from your perspective. Every interview was a dead end. To avoid burning through my savings, I started applying for waitress jobs. But I never imagined that even for that, no one would hire me. As I walked out of the last restaurant, a heavy rain began to fall. I stood under the awning, watching the water drip from the roof, then slowly stepped out into the downpour. The rain wasn’t heavy enough to blur my vision. But my vision blurred anyway. It was the kind of pain that comes from knowing you’ve been wronged, but having no one in the world to tell. 6 Kim was waiting for me downstairs, holding an umbrella. I saw him from a distance and stopped walking. He saw me and started toward me, stopping a few feet away. “Have you accepted reality yet?” he asked. I looked at him, my voice steady. “Kim, you said you would be grateful to me for the rest of your life.” “So?” “This isn’t gratitude,” I said. “You can’t do this to me.” The rain must have soaked through to my brain. My words were so weak, so powerless. Of course he could do this to me. I had nothing. No powerful family, no wealth, not even friends or relatives to support me. He could humiliate me, frame me, pin any crime he wanted on me. I just never realized he hated me that much. That he wouldn’t even let me live. He closed the distance between us. The umbrella blocked the pouring rain. It also blocked out all the light. In the shadows, he reached out and touched my cheek. This, he told me, was the price for wanting us to be even. “Then what do you want from me?” I whispered. “You don’t want my love. You don’t want us to be even. So, I guess I have to die, right?”

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My adoptive mother disappeared in the national forest. My husband, a park ranger, took only a few seconds to start searching in the completely opposite direction. When I realized his mistake, I stumbled through the brush, rushing to the front of the search party to point them the right way. But he just shoved me aside. “Are you the ranger, or am I? My gut is never wrong!” It wasn’t until he returned from that wrong path, carrying another woman on his back, that I understood. As his old flame, Mina, threw herself into his arms, sobbing with relief, the truth hit me. He deliberately chose the wrong direction just to save her mother. My mother was found a day later, not far from the correct trail. Her leg had been shattered by a bear trap. She had bled to death. Seeing her cold, lifeless body on the hospital gurney, my vision turned red. I lunged at my husband, screaming, tearing at him, demanding to know why he hadn’t saved her. Mina, seeing her hero under attack, snatched a scalpel from a nearby tray and plunged it through my carotid artery. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the exact moment my husband chose the wrong path. 1 “The tracks disappear here! This way, men! Follow me!” The familiar words echoed in my head, jolting me back to consciousness. My eyes snapped open to see Alex waving his arm, about to lead the search party down the wrong trail. It was happening all over again. In my last life, Alex had insisted my mother was lost on the other side of the mountain. I had screamed myself hoarse, telling them it was the wrong way. I had scrambled to the front of the line, trying to get him to just look again at the signs. He had simply pushed me away. “Are you the park ranger, or am I, Lily? I know these woods like the back of my hand. My instincts are never wrong!” he’d yelled. “Mom is missing, and you’re just making a scene! We’re losing precious time, and if anything happens to her, that’s on you! Besides, she’s my mother too. You think I wouldn’t try to save her?” Oh, you would. You absolutely would choose not to. I had trusted his judgment completely, letting him lead everyone down that fateful fork in the trail. And he did find someone. Just not my mother. The woman he carried on his shoulders was the mother of his first love, Mina. Meanwhile, my own mother was just off the main trail, her legs crushed in a steel trap, waiting alone for a rescue that came too late. A local found her a day later, but she had already bled out. This time, I would not let my mother die again. Done trying to reason with Alex, I spun around and ran back to the command post to find the Chief Ranger. “The other path at the fork! That was my mother’s last known route!” Alex saw me talking to the Captain and stormed back, grabbing my arm. “Sorry, Captain. My wife doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” He tightened his grip. “I already checked that other trail. It’s well-traveled, a safe route. There’s no way anyone could get lost there.” He pulled me aside, his voice a low hiss. “Don’t cause any more trouble! Leave this to the professionals. Just wait here quietly!” I ignored him, wrenching my arm free and turning back to the Captain. Alex’s patience snapped. He slapped me across the face, the force sending me stumbling to the ground. “Lily! I told you to stop this nonsense!” he roared. “How could anyone go missing on a path people use every day?” The slap left my ears ringing, but I didn’t care. I crawled on my hands and knees to the Captain’s feet. “Please,” I begged, “please, save my mother!” Alex moved to drag me away, but the Captain held up a hand, stopping him. “Hold on,” the Captain said, his eyes narrowed. “Are you telling me you unilaterally dismissed the possibility of her being on the other trail, Ranger?” Alex froze, a flicker of panic in his eyes. A ranger knows the forest, but no one can be 100% certain where a missing person might be. Standard procedure was to dispatch teams to every possible route from a fork. By insisting on taking the entire team down one path, Alex had blatantly violated protocol. He scrambled for an excuse. “No, it’s not like that. The other path leads to a much more remote area. The chances of her being lost there without being found are much higher…” His voice trailed off, his confidence evaporating under the Captain’s cold stare. The Captain shot him a look of utter disdain before giving the order. “Split into two teams. Find her, now.” The Captain had intended for Alex to lead the team searching for our mother, but Alex deliberately broke away from his assigned group and sprinted toward the other trail. Watching his eager silhouette disappear down the wrong path, my last ounce of hope for him withered and died. 2 About ten minutes later, the Captain’s voice crackled over the radio. “We’ve got her! Her leg is caught in a bear trap, it’s shattered. Is the ambulance here yet?” “Negative!” someone replied. Panic seized me. I snatched the radio from the Captain’s belt. “I can provide first aid! I’m a doctor! What’s the location? I’m coming now!” I ran, my feet flying over the uneven ground, a single prayer chanting in my mind. Don’t die, Mom. Please, just hold on. I’m almost there. You have to hold on! When I finally reached her, she had already lost too much blood and slipped into unconsciousness. She was lying on a stretcher, cold and pale, just like the last time I saw her. A sob escaped my lips, and I collapsed over her body, weeping. The Captain pulled me back. “Quick! Back to the command post! We have oxygen tanks there!” Right. She needed oxygen, a blood transfusion. She wasn’t dead yet. I wiped my tears, nodded, and scrambled to my feet, following the team back. But when we arrived, the command post was filled with cheers. Alex stood there, covered in mud, with a woman on his back. I recognized her instantly: Mina’s mother. Unlike last time, with the search party split, her rescue had been rougher. There were several bloody gashes on her thigh, and she too was unconscious. I could only scoff. What a performance. A few scratches and she faints? I tried to ignore it, but Alex believed her act. He had commandeered the entire medical kit for her. What about my mother? “Wait!” I yelled, running over. “Give me one of those oxygen tanks!” I tried to wrestle one away from him. Alex’s face was a mask of grim determination. He shoved me back with his body, sending me sprawling to the ground. “Mina’s mother needs oxygen! A life is on the line, Lily! When are you going to stop this selfish act?” He completely ignored my mother, bleeding and broken nearby, to lavish attention and resources on a woman with a few superficial wounds. Was he really so blind he couldn’t see who was in mortal danger? With no other choice, I grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground, tore a strip from my white sundress, and began to fashion a crude splint to stabilize my mother’s fractured leg. 3 Even unconscious, my mother’s muscles trembled in agony. It was a small mercy she was out; the pain of setting a shattered bone like this would have made her pass out all over again. But she still needed oxygen. I gently pried open her mouth, clearing the dirt and blood from her airway. Then, kneeling beside her, I laced my fingers together and began chest compressions. Thank God we found her in time. We were still within the fifteen-minute golden window for resuscitation. After two long minutes of pumping, my arms aching, my mother finally stirred. “Lily? Where’s… Alex?” Seeing her eyes flutter open, I burst into tears of joy. She tried to lift her hand to wipe them away. “My child… why are you crying… I’m all right now…” “I’m not crying, Mom,” I choked out. “I’m just so happy!” Suddenly, a triumphant shout came from Alex. “That’s wonderful! You’re awake! I didn’t let Mina down!” I turned to see him helping Mina’s mother, who was now breathing from an oxygen mask. He was animatedly telling her how he’d defied everyone to come and save her. A chill spread through my heart. The woman who had raised us from childhood was still clinging to life, and he had the nerve to brag to another woman’s mother about how he had fulfilled his “promise.” My mother’s flicker of consciousness faded, and her eyes rolled back as she passed out again. “Mom!” I screamed, scrambling over to the medical station. “The oxygen tank… where’s the oxygen?!” As I frantically searched, Alex finally decided to pay me some attention. He grabbed my arm, yanking me back. “What do you think you’re doing?!” I spun around and slapped him, hard. “I’m asking you where the FUCK the oxygen is!” Everyone froze, stunned into silence. Just then, a hand tangled itself in my hair, yanking my head back so hard I nearly fell. 4 Mina stood over me, her eyes filled with tears as she looked at her mother’s minor injuries. “Alex, what happened? Why is my mom hurt? I told you exactly where her signal was lost!” Alex just glanced silently in my direction, and Mina immediately understood. “It was you!” she shrieked, her voice venomous. “It was you, wasn’t it?! You’re the reason my mom got hurt!” She lunged, trying to claw at me. Her sharp nails dug into my scalp as she pulled my hair. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? My mother has hypoglycemia! If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you!” I wasn’t about to take it. I twisted my body, grabbing her wrist and applying pressure to the joint until her grip loosened. With a heave, I threw her to the muddy ground. “Your mom has a few scratches and low blood sugar? My mother has a compound fracture and is bleeding to death!” I spat. “What, is your mother’s life more valuable than mine? Alex dragged the entire medical team over here just to treat a few goddamn cuts on her leg. You really think she’s in danger?” My voice dropped to a low growl. “I’m telling you right now, if anything happens to my mother, you will pay.” Seeing Mina kneeling in the dirt, Alex’s heart clearly broke. He shoved me back forcefully. “Lily! You’re completely out of control! Now you’re physically attacking people?” He bent down to help Mina to her feet. I watched them, my voice cold as ice as I asked the question that had haunted me for years. “Alex, whose husband are you, anyway?” Sensing the shift in the atmosphere, Mina let out a piercing cry. “Just because he’s your husband, he’s supposed to bend the rules and save your mother first? Is that it? I gave Alex her exact coordinates! Of course he had to save my mom first! Was he supposed to go searching for someone when he didn’t even know where she was or if she was even alive?” Her shriek drew everyone’s attention. So, whoever speaks first is right? I was about to argue back when Alex pulled me away, his voice a low warning. “You’ve already made one mistake today. Just admit you were wrong and stop causing more trouble!” “Alex?!” He actually thought this was my fault? It was because he misled the rescue team to save Mina’s mother that my own mother missed her window for survival in my past life. If I hadn’t insisted on searching the other trail this time, she would have died alone in the woods, just like before. And now he was blaming me. “Do you even have a conscience?”

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1 At my firefighter brother’s funeral, an influencer my fiancée invited shoved a mic in my face. “You adopted ten orphans,” he accused, “just to steal their benefits and buy houses?” He then turned to my fallen comrade’s son. “He’s the one who killed your dad! He sells kids abroad for their organs!” Before I could deny it, my fiancée Ava grabbed the mic. Claiming to be a truth-seeking journalist, she played a doctored audio from the fire scene. It made it sound like I had sent my team to their deaths intentionally. The crowd erupted. As families rushed me, I shielded the child in my arms but was pushed off the stage, breaking my neck. A month later, an explosion at the same chemical plant blew a surviving body camera into view of a news crew, finally exposing the buried truth. … “Ms. Shen, we found a micro-recorder!” a young intern shouted, handing the device to Ava. Her brow furrowed. As she read the badge number engraved on the side, she flinched. Behind her, the influencer, Ryan, gasped dramatically. “Isn’t that Captain Luke’s number? Could this be… the evidence he tried to destroy?” The live feed went dead silent. The viewer count on the stream skyrocketed. “Investigate him now! That scumbag Luke has to be dirty!” “There’s the missing proof! Get the police on this!” “I always said he had a villain’s face! Knew he was no good!” Even the intern spat on the ground in disgust. “Luke is a disgrace to the uniform.” Someone tugged his sleeve. “Dude, shut up,” they whispered. “He’s Ms. Shen’s fiancé, remember?” “They were together for ten years, about to get married. Goes to show, you never really know someone.” From my hospital bed, paralyzed from the neck down, I stared at the television, a shattered protest gurgling in my throat. No… not me. I did nothing wrong. Watching Ava’s false-sincere expression, a black wave of hatred threatened to swallow me whole. I wanted to scream, but the fractured vertebrae had not only stolen my mobility, they had shredded my vocal cords. All of this was a gift from the woman I trusted most in the world. Ava’s eyes welled with tears as she bowed deeply to the camera. “I’m calling the police immediately,” she pledged. “Rest assured, everyone, I will get justice for all the victims. On behalf of Luke, I once again offer my deepest apologies to their families.” The livestream’s comment section flooded with sympathy for the woman so cruelly deceived by her own fiancé. “That monster hid his true face for a decade! Poor Ava!” “It should be Luke on his knees begging for forgiveness!” “The thought of him in that uniform makes me sick! He dishonored it!” Ryan wrapped a protective arm around Ava, tenderly wiping a tear from her eye. “Ava, this isn’t your fault. You’re a hero to this city for being brave enough to expose your own.” He looked at her with adoration. “Don’t worry. I’ll be right here with you, always.” They clasped hands, looking for all the world like a pair of star-crossed lovers who had weathered a terrible storm. Even the reporters on site were moved. “Ms. Shen, Ryan is the man you truly deserve!” one of them called out. The chat was already spammed with their ship name, #Ryva. Praise for Ryan poured in. “Thank god for this streamer exposing the truth! Who knows how many more people that monster would have killed!” My hands clenched the bedsheets so tightly that my nails broke the skin. Just last month, I had proposed to Ava. She had thrown herself into my arms, laughing, and promised me forever. Now, the decorated firefighting hero was a public pariah, and she was holding the hand of the man who had orchestrated my downfall. I squeezed my eyes shut. A commotion erupted at my door. Ryan, his livestreaming crew, and a mob of angry citizens stormed into my room. The glare of a camera light blinded me, hot and accusatory, like an interrogation lamp. “Captain Luke,” Ryan began, his voice dripping with venom, “I hear your parents were firefighters too. Do they know they raised a worthless piece of filth?” My breath caught in my chest. His tone grew even more vicious. “Or is it because of their legacy as fallen heroes that you felt you could get away with anything?” I trembled with a rage I couldn’t express. My parents had died ten years ago in the city’s worst industrial fire, their bodies incinerated, their bones melted into the blaze. Ryan then dragged my fallen comrade’s son forward. “Kid, tell the nice people. Did he force your mommy to sign papers so you’d never see her again?” The boy, terrified by the crowd and the lights, burst into tears. His mother clutched him, her sobs wracking her body. “Captain Luke told me a single mother couldn’t raise a child properly! He said if I just signed the agreement, I wouldn’t have to worry about my son anymore! I had just lost my husband… he tricked me into nearly losing my son too!” She threw a piece of paper onto my bed. Ryan snatched it and held it up for the camera. “See? Here’s the proof! The contract for selling this child!” The livestream chat exploded. “That animal! He deserves to rot!” “The kid is so small! How could he do that? Someone beat the hell out of that bastard!” The enraged mob surged forward. They dragged me from the bed, tearing open my healing wounds. Someone grabbed the scalding hot water from my bedside table and poured it over my hands. The pain was so intense my skin seemed to shrink from my bones, and an involuntary scream tore from my throat. The little boy tried to run to my side, to protect me, but his mother held him back. A sharp pain, worse than the burns, pierced my heart. It was she who had knelt and begged me to take her son, saying she was too young to be tied down by a child. I clamped my jaw shut, refusing to reveal that truth in front of the boy. Just then, Ava pushed her way into the room. I noticed for the first time that the engagement ring was gone from her finger. Of course it was. How else could this mob have gotten past hospital security without her help? “Luke,” she said, her voice as cold as a morgue slab, “God is watching. The body camera has been sent to the police. You can’t escape this.” I stared at her, my eyes burning. “What did Ryan offer you, Ava? What was worth doing this to me?” I remembered her in high school, storming the principal’s office to defend a bullied roommate, her voice ringing with conviction. “I, Ava Shen, will always stand for the truth! You want to twist the facts? Not on my watch!” I had been captivated. I learned her dream was to be a journalist. I followed her, enrolling in the police academy next to her university. I fought fires, and she reported the truth. She was a born idealist, and I was prepared to spend my life protecting that idealism. I never imagined I would be the first piece of “truth” she threw away. Her face hardened. “Don’t be ridiculous! Ryan was trying to promote a hero. It was you who was exposed by his investigation! Did you want him to lie for you? He has integrity, unlike you. The only thing left for you to do is confess.” “Confess? He claims I framed my teammate. Where’s his proof?” I fumbled for the nurse’s call button, trying to get security to clear the room. Ryan blocked the door. “Proof? The children you ‘adopted’ are all overseas right now. That’s the proof!” My eyes shot to Ava. She knew. She knew I had used my own money to send them to a summer science program abroad. But her gaze never met mine. A bitter sting filled my nose. My heart, for Ava, turned to ice. Ryan scoffed. “Captain Luke, you’re public enemy number one. I have a duty to let everyone witness your true colors before the police get here.” A dry, rasping laugh escaped my lips. “Good. I’d like to file a report myself. For the public assault of a city official. Let’s see what the police have to say about that.” The crowd went quiet. “…He’s right, he’s still a Fire Captain.” “So what! He deserves it!” “We didn’t cause these injuries! He was like this when we got here!” I stared at their lying faces, thinking of all the times I’d stared death in the face to save people just like them, and my heart grew colder. Ryan suddenly smiled, a cruel, knowing look in his eyes. “No need to pull rank, Captain. You only have your position because of your parents, don’t you?” He lowered his voice, but it was still perfectly clear for the livestream. “But your parents weren’t heroes! They were the ones who caused the massive explosion ten years ago! They didn’t die! They took the money and fled the country to live in luxury!” He leaned in closer. “Your whole family is a criminal enterprise. They’re your connection to the wealthy buyers, aren’t they?!” A roar filled my ears. The blood in my veins turned to ice. “You’re lying—” With a surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, I kicked out, sending him flying across the room. The next second, Ava slapped me so hard my head slammed against the steel bed frame. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and blood streamed down my face. “How dare you lay a hand on him!” she screamed, cradling Ryan in her arms. Ryan clutched his stomach, his voice a pathetic whimper. “Ava, it’s true. An old firefighter told me everything. Captain Luke killed his teammate, he sells children’s organs… he learned it all from his parents. The whole family is rotten to the core.” The rage was so intense my vision started to black out. I remembered my parents’ backs as they ran into that inferno without a moment’s hesitation, and it felt like a piece of my own flesh was being torn away. “Slander…” I choked out. The livestream comments went insane: “A whole family of criminals!” “The apple doesn’t fall far from the poisonous tree! The parents are crooks, the son is a monster!” “No wonder he’s so cold-blooded, it’s in his DNA!” “He doesn’t deserve to be called the son of a hero! And they don’t deserve to be called heroes!” Staring at the venomous words scrolling across the screen, I coughed, and a spray of black blood erupted from my mouth before I passed out. When I woke, I was drowning in the glare of spotlights. I was tied to a chair, an inmate at my own inquisition. Before me was a massive banquet hall, hung with huge red banners: PUBLIC TRIAL OF THE TRAITOR LUKE, WHO BETRAYED HIS COUNTRY AND COMRADES! Below, a sea of hateful eyes stared up at me. I tried to shrink back in terror. Ryan yanked my hair, forcing my head down. “Today, the families of every victim your family has destroyed are here!” he bellowed. “Since the authorities won’t act, I, Ryan, will deliver justice! Today is the day of judgment for the sinner, Luke! His family is steeped in evil! His parents were not heroes, but criminals who stole millions and ran!” The massive screen behind me lit up. It was a video of my parents, walking hand-in-hand on a beach. They were older, their faces lined, but it was them. It was unmistakably my mom and dad. “No. Impossible.” I shook my head, trembling uncontrollably. Ryan kept yanking my hair, forcing me to bow again and again to the jeering crowd. A glass flew from the audience, shattering against my forehead. Warm blood streamed into my eyes. “Avenge the fallen firefighters!” “A family of traitors! They all deserve to die!” Ryan smiled and took Ava’s hand. “I told you, Captain. You can’t win against me.” Ava looked at me with something like pity. “Luke, just kneel and confess. Otherwise, these families… they’re really going to kill you.” I started to laugh, and the laughter turned into tears. Without her, Ryan would never have dared. The old Ava would have cried if I so much as scraped my knee on a call. This Ava seemed to be hoping I’d die sooner rather than later. “Ava,” I rasped, “you will regret this.” She flinched, then bit her lip. “This has nothing to do with Ryan. I just… I can’t watch you continue down this dark path.” Her phone rang. After a brief call, her expression grew even colder. “Luke, the Fire Department brass is on their way with the decoded body camera. It’s over.” Ryan lost his patience. He waved a hand to men planted in the crowd. They surged onto the stage. “This one’s for the teammate you murdered!” one of them yelled, burying his fist in my stomach. The air rushed out of my lungs, and I spat up a mouthful of blood. Someone else poured a pitcher of ice-cold alcohol over my head. The searing pain in my countless wounds was blinding. “Stop… this is a crime…” An older woman rushed the stage and punched me square in the face. “You killed my son! You’re not fit to be a firefighter! Give me back my son!” More people swarmed me. “My brother died because of your parents!” “My husband had just gotten married! He never even had a chance to have children!” They kicked and punched, clawing at me, beating me with whatever they could find. Soon, I was a mess of blood and bruised flesh. One of my ears went deaf from a blow, and someone ground a broken piece of glass into my palm. Blood and tears mingled on my face. The livestream chat scrolled at a dizzying speed, a chorus of cheers. “Yeah! Beat him to death!” “He deserves it! This is what happens to traitors!” “The streamer is a hero! Taking out the trash!” “Make his parents come back and face the music too!” My consciousness began to fade in a haze of pain and humiliation. I bit my lip until it bled, fighting to stay upright. Just then, the doors to the banquet hall were kicked open. A team of uniformed police officers stormed in, followed by the city’s Fire Chief, his face a mask of frantic worry. When his eyes landed on me, they turned red with fury. He held up my body camera and roared, his voice cracking with emotion. “All of you, STOP! You’re destroying a true hero!”

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They called me the luckiest woman in the city. An orphan, I had found a broken man in the gutters, and with a little begging here, a little borrowing there, I had somehow nursed Julian Devereux, the heir to the Devereux fortune, back to life. In return, he had lifted me from obscurity and was about to make me his wife. Everyone said he spoiled me, let me run wild with his affection. When I idly mentioned I liked pearls, a collection once belonging to British royalty appeared at my door. When I gazed at a single rose, the next morning, the entire estate was carpeted in the rare Louis XIV varietal. He was the untouchable Lord Devereux, master of his family’s empire. And then, at the zenith of my fairy tale, the day he was to make me his, I met Vivienne Pembroke. And she had my face. … Vivienne tilted my chin up with a manicured finger, her eyes a canvas of undisguised contempt. “You do have a pretty face, I’ll give you that.” Whispers erupted around us. “That’s Vivienne Pembroke… she looks exactly like her…” “Be quiet. Do you know who she is? The Pembroke heiress. She could snap her fingers and half the Capital would tremble. As for her origins…” No matter how Julian tried to hide it, the fact that I was an orphan could never be erased. They just didn’t dare say it aloud. Not after what happened to the last person who did. At a gala, when Julian first brought me into his world, a society matron had sneered about my parentage. Julian had merely glanced at her, his expression placid. The next day, that woman was found on the city’s busiest street, broken and begging, her mind gone. No one had breathed a word against me since. In the next instant, the glowing cherry of Vivienne’s cigarette was pressed against my cheek. The smell of burning flesh filled the air. I cried out in pain and shoved her away. She stumbled backward, falling gracefully into Julian Devereux’s arms. The burn on my face was agony, but a sharper pain lanced through my heart at the look in Julian’s eyes as he held her—a tempest of emotions I had never seen before. “Julian, my face,” Vivienne whimpered. “It hurts so much…” But Julian’s gaze was fixed on the cigarette still in her hand. He gently took it from her fingers. “Your lungs are delicate, Vivi. You must be more careful.” He had completely ignored me. Vivienne looked over his shoulder at me. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to this… young lady?” Only then did Julian seem to notice the weeping burn on my face. He looked away, his voice low. “This is Celine. She’s… my sister.” The ancient jade signet ring on my finger slipped from my grasp, hitting the marble floor and splitting in two. He had placed it there only last night when he’d asked me to be his wife. I looked around the grand ballroom. The crimson banners celebrating our union, the loving portrait of us at the entrance, even the interwoven gold embroidery on our formal attire—everything screamed engagement. So how had I, the fiancée, suddenly become the sister? The jade had broken cleanly, but my heart was tearing apart, a ragged, shredding agony. “Julian…” I stepped forward, wanting to demand an explanation, but he was already turning, shielding Vivienne as he led her away. The whispers swelled into a roar. “I thought this was their engagement party.” “The next lady of the Devereux estate? I wouldn’t be so sure now.” I looked to Julian, the man who couldn’t bear to hear a single bad word spoken about me. He didn’t even glance my way. His entire world was focused on Vivienne. I was invisible. In a haze of pain and medication, I felt a cool sensation on my cheek. I opened my eyes to see Julian carefully applying a salve to the burn. I threw my arms around his waist, clinging to him. “Why did you call me your sister tonight?” He didn’t answer, his voice a low rumble. “I have to go to the Capital City.” The Pembrokes… they were from the Capital. The events of the night—the canceled engagement, his sudden departure, the strange new obsession in his eyes when he looked at Vivienne—crashed over me in a suffocating wave. My heart hammered against my ribs, a painful, frantic rhythm. I couldn’t breathe. “Is it because of her? Because of Vivienne?” Julian’s gaze snapped to mine, cold and hard. “Celine. Be careful what you say.” It was the first time he had ever looked at me with anything but warmth. My voice trembled. “Then tell me why! Why are you going to the Capital? Why did you call me your sister? Why did you cancel our engagement? Why!” He looked away, unable to meet my eyes. “Take Miss Celine to the family chapel,” he commanded the guards at the door. “She will kneel there until she has calmed down.” I stared at him. The man before me was a stranger. Not the Julian who had promised to grant my every wish, to answer my every question. I knelt in the cold chapel, before the stone tombs of his ancestors. Staring at the eternal flame, I whispered a desperate prayer. “Spirits of this house, I will accept a lifetime of hardship and poverty in my next ten lives, if you will only grant me this one with Julian. Let us be together, always.” A soft, mocking laugh echoed from the doorway. Vivienne stood there, wreathed in shadow. “The Devereux ancestors,” she purred, “do you really think they’ll ever accept you?” “A woman like you, Miss Pembroke,” I retorted, my voice shaking, “has no shame, interfering in our relationship?” She laughed again, a low, throaty sound. “Interfering?” She blew a plume of smoke in my direction. “You, who appeared with my face while I was away at university and attached yourself to my childhood sweetheart. You call me the intruder?” With a flick of her wrist, she touched the lit end of her cigarette to an ancient tapestry. It smoldered for a second before catching fire. I tried to scramble away, but she grabbed my arm, her grip like steel. “You think I’m the one who came between you?” she hissed, her face illuminated by the growing flames. The fire spread with terrifying speed, smoke billowing around us. She didn’t seem to feel the heat at all. “Then let’s see who he chooses.” The fire alarms blared. Servants rushed to the chapel doors, but Vivienne pressed the sharp point of a hairpin to her own throat. “Tell Julian Devereux he has to choose between me and Celine, right now! Or we both burn!” I had inhaled too much smoke. My lungs burned, my vision swam. I collapsed to the floor. Through the distorted haze of heat and smoke, I saw Julian burst into the chapel. He swept Vivienne into his arms and ran. He was in such a hurry that he didn’t see me on the floor. His foot came down hard on my outstretched hand, crushing it as he fled. The searing pain jolted me back from the brink of unconsciousness. As the darkness closed in, his promise from the day he brought me to his home echoed in my ears. “Celine, you saved my life. I can only repay it with my own.” “I will give you a lifetime of honor, of wealth, of safety.” But here I was, broken and burning, my life hanging by a thread, abandoned by my savior. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. I waited. Day turned to night, and back to day. I sat as still as a statue, a forgotten idol waiting for a worshipper who would never come. Julian never came. Perhaps the fire had burned away his love, I thought. My heart felt like a hollow chamber of ash, no longer capable of pain. Then, he was there. He gently tried to give me a sip of water. It tasted strange, bitter. I turned my head away, but he gripped my jaw, forcing my mouth open and pouring the liquid down my throat. A fire erupted in my larynx, a pain so intense I thrashed wildly. Julian’s grip only tightened. I tried to cough, to scream, but no sound came out. I was silent. My throat felt as though it had been scoured with acid. A single tear escaped and traced a path through the soot on my cheek. I looked up at Julian. His own eyes were red, rimmed with tears. He gathered me in his arms, his voice a broken whisper. “Celine, it’s okay. From now on, I’ll be your voice. I’ll speak for you…” I bit down on his arm, hard. Blood welled up, but he didn’t flinch, letting me inflict the pain. His tears were hot on my skin, a stark contrast to the chemical fire in my throat. The twin agonies made my head swim. Through the haze, I heard him whisper again. “I’m so sorry…” “Someone has to take the blame for the chapel, Celine… Vivienne can’t… she’s too fragile. And you… you’re too stubborn. You would never have confessed for her.” “This was the only way… I’m so sorry…” When I next awoke, the room was empty. It was all a nightmare. The door opened, and the Devereux matriarch swept in. She placed a document on my bedside table. “When Julian favored you, I allowed your foolishness. But Vivienne is back now. They were meant to be. Everything is finally back on its proper course. It is time for you to leave.” With a trembling hand, I wrote on a notepad: Is this what Julian wants? “Julian’s wishes are no longer relevant.” A thousand protests rose within me—to fight, to scream, to beg. But I touched my throat, the silent, ruined flesh, and signed my name. I wrote one last thing. I have only one condition. I never want to see Julian Devereux again. The matriarch said a car would take me to the airport in the morning. But just as dawn broke, Julian’s men came for me instead. Before the charred ruins of the family chapel, Julian stood with Vivienne shielded behind him. The family elders were gathered, their faces grim. “The ancestral tablets of eighteen generations, the family registry, all of it, gone!” one of them roared. “And you still protect this woman?” Julian’s shoulders relaxed when he saw me. He pulled me before the elders. “Vivienne didn’t do it,” he announced, his voice ringing with false conviction. “Celine burned the chapel.” I wanted to scream, No! But only a strangled gasp escaped my throat. I gestured frantically, trying to explain, but no one looked at me. After a long, tense silence, the eldest patriarch sighed. “Then let the family law be served. Forty-nine lashes. Not one less.” The Devereux “family law” was a brutal tradition. One lash could break a man. I grabbed Julian’s hand, my eyes pleading with him to speak, to stop this. He pulled his hand away, refusing to look at me. “Administer the punishment,” he said softly. As the first whip fell, my mind flashed back to the day I met him. He was fleeing his enemies, bleeding and near death in the ruins of an old church. I found him. He told me he’d give me a million dollars to save him. I told him he was a liar, but I saved him anyway. Later, when he was safe in his magnificent home, he had laughed. “A million dollars is for common people, Celine.” He had offered me the entire Devereux empire. His heart. His whole world. That was to be my reward. At the tenth lash, I thought I heard his voice from the night he proposed. “From this day forward, you are the lady of this house.” “If anyone ever tries to hurt you, they will have to go through my dead body first.” A mouthful of blood escaped my lips, spattering the mended jade ring on his hand. The brilliant green was stained with crimson. A broken gem, even one set in gold, is still just a broken thing. When the forty-ninth lash fell, I was barely breathing, a bloody ruin on the stone floor. In his study, Julian’s heart gave a violent lurch. A terrible, suffocating unease washed over him. He couldn’t name the feeling, but then a frantic shout erupted from outside. “Miss Celine has no heartbeat!” Julian shot to his feet. The world tilted, the room spinning around him. The only words that cut through the chaos were: “No heartbeat!” What did that mean? A hot rush filled his throat, and he doubled over, vomiting blood. The sharp pain cleared his head for a moment. He had to get to her. He threw open the door and came face to face with his grandmother. The matriarch’s smile was glacial. “And where do you think you’re going?” “I have to see Celine…” he mumbled. “See her? Who is she to you?” Her hand cracked across his face. “Remember this! The daughter-in-law of this family, the wife of Lord Devereux, your intended, is Vivienne Pembroke! Not some gutter orphan you picked up off the street!” Julian froze as if struck by lightning. He turned. Behind him, Vivienne stood, her expression unreadable. “Are you going to abandon me for her, too?” she asked quietly. A wave of crushing despair washed over him. He collapsed into a chair, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. It had all been a lie from the start.

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After my private photos were leaked by my own husband, a decorated General, I quietly filed my discharge papers and applied for an overseas aid mission, telling no one. The next time I saw Fred Cole was ten years later, at a reunion for our old unit. Most of my friends were married with kids. Only Fred and I, divorced, remained single. “Aria,” a friend whispered, nudging me, “he’s definitely still waiting for you. He hasn’t dated anyone in a decade, never remarried.” Just then, Fred walked in. Clad in his immaculate dress uniform, he commanded the room’s attention. Ten years had passed, but he was still strikingly handsome, the sharp edges of his youth softened into a calm, authoritative presence. Knowing our history, our friends had deliberately seated us together. He watched me for a long time, a thousand unspoken words in his eyes, but all that came out was a quiet greeting. “Aria. It’s been a long time.” “Yes, it has,” I replied coolly, my face a mask, betraying none of the turmoil his presence stirred. I remembered the night before my commendation ceremony, when the internet had exploded with my intimate photos. Overnight, my reputation was in ruins, my medal of honor rescinded. And the man who had released them was my husband, Fred Cole. … I had run to his office, desperate for an explanation. But as I reached for the door, I overheard a conversation that stopped my world. “General, isn’t this a bit too harsh? Captain Evans has bled for this division, nearly died for it. After this, she might not even be allowed to wear the uniform again.” Fred’s voice was as cold as ice. “Maria needs this commendation. For her future in the military, sacrificing Aria once is a worthy trade.” I pressed myself against the wall, a chill seeping into my bones. “Brilliant strategy, sir,” his aide’s voice oozed with sycophancy. “Three simple steps to bring the legendary ‘Hawkeye’ of our Special Forces to heel.” “First, upon her transfer to the Falcon unit, you assigned her that impossible extraction mission, the one doomed to fail.” “Second, you personally led the rescue, earning her undying gratitude and turning her into the sharpest weapon in your arsenal.” “And finally, you coaxed her into taking those risqué photos, the perfect leverage to use at the most critical moment.” Fred chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth, full of cold control. “More interesting than breaking a wild stallion, wouldn’t you say?” The aide hesitated. “But why marry her, sir? Did the act become a little too real?” Fred toyed with his sidearm, a soft, dismissive sound in his throat, as if it had all been a necessary burden. “Three years ago, Maria had just gotten her helicopter pilot’s license. During a night training exercise, she lost control and collided with a military vehicle carrying Aria and her mother. The three-month-old fetus she was carrying, and her mother… they didn’t make it.” “Maria was terrified. It wasn’t her fault,” Fred’s voice remained unnervingly calm. “The other vehicle failed to yield in time.” I clapped a hand over my mouth, my nails digging into my palm until they drew blood. After my mother died, I had been consumed by grief. Fred had held my hand and sworn to me, “Aria, I promise I will find out what happened. I will get justice for you and your mother.” A month later, he had returned, looking weary. “The dashcam data was corrupted. Unrecoverable.” He had pulled me into his arms. “Don’t be afraid. I’m your family now. I’ll protect you with my life. Marry me, Aria.” I looked down at the wedding ring on my finger. This marriage, this so-called happiness, was built on the blood of my mother and my unborn child. “I married her to bury the incident for good,” Fred’s voice shattered my last illusion. “Maria needs a clean slate, and I will personally pave the way for her, every step.” I stumbled back, my combat boots silent on the polished floor. I didn’t stop until I was outside the command building, where I doubled over, my stomach churning violently. I retched until only sour bile came up, then wiped my mouth and pulled out my phone, dialing a number buried deep in my contacts. It was answered on the first ring. “Do you still need that bone marrow match for your sister?” My voice trembled in the night air. “I’ll do it.” “On one condition.” “I want Fred Cole and Maria, their careers, their reputations, utterly destroyed.” A low voice on the other end replied, “Done.” After hanging up, I immediately called my lawyer to draft the divorce papers. I had just finished reviewing them when Fred walked in. “You’re back. Why didn’t you tell me?” He reached for my shoulder. “The guard said you looked pale.” I sidestepped his touch. He probably assumed I was still reeling from the photo leak. He swept me up and set me down on the sofa. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice a convincing imitation of concern. “I kept those photos in an encrypted drive. I never thought a hacker could get through. But I promise, I’ll handle this.” I looked into his eyes, clear and sincere, and saw not a flicker of guilt. How many lies had he told me over the years? I pushed him away wearily. “I’m tired. I’m going to take a shower.” The next morning, Fred was already gone. I opened the military forum. The top post was still about my photos. But the one right below it was about Maria. “#BREAKING# Lieutenant Colonel Maria Caught in Late-Night Tryst with Political Officer!” The post included a grainy video of a car rocking violently. After ten minutes, a woman in a disheveled uniform, her face hidden by a mask, got out. But I recognized her immediately. It was Maria. No wonder Fred had disappeared so early. He was probably off doing damage control for his precious Maria. I scoffed, printed the divorce papers, and slipped them into a thick stack of documents on his desk awaiting his signature. I knew his habit. He never double-checked paperwork, just flicked the corner and signed. Then, I started to pack. Opening a storage locker, I froze. For every gift Fred had ever given me, Maria had a matching one. Even my wedding ring had a counterpart on Maria’s finger. Hers and Fred’s looked more like a set than ours did. I ripped the ring from my finger and threw it into the locker, slamming the door shut. “Captain Evans!” A guard knocked urgently on my door. “General Cole is holding an emergency press conference!” On the live feed, Fred stood at a podium in front of the military crest, Maria standing just behind him, her eyes red-rimmed. “Regarding the recent rumors of misconduct within the ranks, the Disciplinary Committee has confirmed the incident did, in fact, occur.” A wave of murmurs went through the press corps. I clenched the hem of my fatigues. Why would he admit it? My eyes darted to Maria. As she lowered her head, I caught the ghost of a triumphant smirk. A chill ran down my spine. “However, the individual involved was not Lieutenant Colonel Maria,” Fred’s voice was firm. “Last night, she was with me in the command center, planning a joint-forces exercise.” The reporters surged forward, microphones outstretched. “Then who was it, General?” Fred’s gaze seemed to pierce through the camera, landing directly on me. “It was my wife,” he said, each word a hammer blow, “Captain Aria Evans.” I stared at the screen, my nails digging so deep into my palms that beads of blood soaked through the fabric of my uniform. On the screen, Maria stepped forward at the perfect moment, her voice thick with emotion but firm. “Although Captain Evans’s actions have caused me to be unjustly accused, I believe she must have had her reasons. As her comrade, we should give her a chance to reform.” She turned to Fred, her voice breaking. “But… General Cole, you have been wronged. Thank you for clearing my name.” In front of the entire world, she saluted him, then fell into his arms. The flashbulbs went off like a volley of gunfire. Several high-ranking officers in the front row began to applaud. A reporter shoved a microphone in Fred’s face. “You’re the youngest General in the division, sir. Why would Captain Evans be involved with someone else?” “Will you be filing for divorce?” “How will the military compensate Lieutenant Colonel Maria?” Fred’s expression was one of profound pain. “No matter what happens, I will not abandon my marriage. As her husband, I will always be Aria’s support.” He looked down at Maria, still in his arms. “As for compensation—after careful consideration, command of the ‘Thunder’ Special Operations unit, formerly under Captain Aria Evans, will be transferred to Lieutenant Colonel Maria, effective immediately.” The words had barely registered before I was running to the bathroom, vomiting violently into the toilet. It was disgusting. He was stabbing me in the back while publicly declaring himself my “support.” My eyes burning, I opened the military forum again. My inbox was flooded with hate mail. “Disgrace to the army!” “You call yourself Special Forces? Get out!” “Divorce him already! Maria and the General are the perfect match!” Fred knew exactly how devastating a disciplinary action was to a soldier’s career. And he hadn’t hesitated to throw me to the wolves. Why? I opened the internal grievance system, but as I started to type, a message popped up: “ACCESS DENIED.” A secure line from the Chief of Staff patched through. “Captain Evans, all your system access has been temporarily suspended by direct order of the Joint Chiefs.” He paused. “General Cole asked me to inform you that if you make any unauthorized statements, you will be prosecuted for leaking military secrets.” The comms unit slipped from my hand, clattering to the floor. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. “Fred Cole,” I whispered to the empty room, “you are a master.” Fred came home late, reeking of alcohol. I was sitting on the sofa in the dark. He walked past me without a word. “Don’t you have anything to explain to me?” He stopped, rubbing his temples. “It was an emergency. There was no time to consult you. Maria was innocent. She was set up.” “And me?” I stared at him. “I deserved to be the scapegoat? General, did you give any thought to my rank, my honor?” He avoided my gaze, fiddling with the cuff of his uniform. “Officially, Maria was also on the shortlist for the commendation. Your disciplinary action was already logged. The military had to protect one of you. Unofficially, she’s my foster sister. You’re her sister-in-law. Were you going to stand by and watch her career be destroyed? It was just one disciplinary mark.” Every word was an icicle, piercing the last of my illusions. In his eyes, officially or unofficially, I was worth less than a single hair on Maria’s head. “Look,” he said, his tone softening slightly, “I have leave in a few days. I’ll take you away, we’ll clear our heads.” He reached for my face, but I flinched away. His expression darkened. “Aria, I’m already at my wits’ end trying to bury your photo scandal. Can’t you see the bigger picture for once?” He turned and strode into his study, slamming the door behind him. I stood there, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. A little longer. Just until he signs the papers. Then I would make him pay for everything he owed me, a thousand times over. I wiped the tears from my eyes, heated a glass of milk, and brought it to him in the study, my customary peace offering. His expression softened, and he pulled me into his lap. “Just be good. As long as you follow orders, I will always have your back.” His hand slid under my shirt, his palm hot against my skin. Fighting back a wave of nausea, I pushed the stack of documents in front of him. “You should work first. Then you can come to bed.” He chuckled, squeezing my arm, and started signing, one document after another. He didn’t even notice when he signed his name on the divorce agreement I had slipped into the middle of the stack. For the next few days, I stayed in my quarters, waiting for the divorce to be finalized. But Maria wasn’t done with me.

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1 At the gala celebrating her return, I was publicly exposed as the fake heiress. The real one, Clarissa, glanced at the limited-edition bracelet on my wrist—a gift from my brother—and sneered. “Oh, so this is the little playmate Mom and Dad found for my brother? What, is she warming his bed now too?” The blood drained from my face. It was true. I was the one switched at birth. But at twelve, I had awakened a power. The power of Utterance. I said Mom and Dad’s company would go public, and the Sterling family became the wealthiest in the city. I said my brother, Julian, would become an A-list star, and now he was a household name. So how is it that the moment their long-lost daughter returns, I’m reduced to some shameless creature warming her brother’s bed?! So I spoke, my voice soft but clear. “From this day forward, the Sterling family’s fortune will plummet. Misfortune will cling to them like a shadow, and nothing they do will ever succeed.” … Every eye in the room was fixed on me. “She’s been playing the heiress for so long she actually believes it. Pathetic.” “No wonder she’s sleeping her way up. She’s terrified of getting kicked out.” I remembered the promise I’d made to my parents—to get along with Clarissa, to help her integrate into high society. I forced a smile. “We both share the Sterling name. From now on, we’re family.” Clarissa burst out laughing as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world, her body shaking with mirth. Then, just as quickly, her smile vanished, replaced by pure contempt. “Family? Who the hell do you think you are to call me family?” “Let me tell you something. If it weren’t for Mom and Dad’s pity, gutter trash like you would never have stepped foot in this house. Did you really think the Sterling mansion was some kind of charity shelter?” “All these years, you’ve been eating our food, spending our money. You’re going to pay back every single penny. Don’t even think about shorting me!” A cold laugh escaped my lips, my gaze imperious. “I cost the Sterlings? Ask Mom and Dad if they dare to say that to my face.” The Sterling family owed their entire status to me—to my power of Utterance. I said that plot of land downtown would skyrocket in value, and Grandpa invested his entire fortune, turning it into billions overnight. I said that overseas partnership had potential, and Dad decisively signed the deal, becoming the richest man in the city. I said Mom had a tumor growing inside her. A check-up confirmed it, and they caught it early, snatching her back from the jaws of death. I said the new script offered to Julian would be a blockbuster. He took the role against his fans’ wishes, and the film earned him the Best Actor award, launching him into superstardom. Grandpa cherished me, calling me the true jewel of the Sterling family. The last servant who whispered about my identity was fed to the sharks in international waters. Mom and Dad paraded me at every banquet; Julian walked me down every red carpet. Everyone knew I was the Sterling heiress. Clarissa stared at me as if I were insane. “Who do you think you are, spouting such nonsense!” A sharp crack echoed as her hand connected with my cheek. A searing pain shot through me. “Looks like you’ve gotten so used to being the master, you’ve forgotten how to be the dog!” she hissed. “Don’t worry. I’ll teach you today.” “As it happens, my shoes are dirty. Lick them clean, and I’ll pretend I didn’t hear a word you just said.” All eyes were on me, hungry for my humiliation. I slapped her right back. The crisp sound reverberated through the vast hall. A collective gasp went through the crowd. Clarissa clutched her face, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Seraphina, you psycho! How dare you hit me!” I looked at her, my voice cold as ice. “If your mouth is filthy, you should wash it.” “Consider that slap a welcome gift.” Her face flushed a deep red, the imprint of my hand stark against her skin. “Today, I’ll show you who the real Sterling heiress is!” she shrieked. “A parasite who does nothing but suck our family dry dares to be so arrogant in front of her master!” With a flick of her eyes, several burly bodyguards grabbed me, pinning my arms. Clarissa snatched a steak knife from a nearby table and waved it menacingly in front of my face. “Let’s see how you’re going to climb into my brother’s bed without this pretty face!” The moment the cold steel touched my skin, the ballroom doors were kicked open. A commanding voice cut through the tension. “Stop this right now!” My brother, Julian, strode into the room. Clarissa immediately dropped the act and threw herself into his arms. “Julian, you’re finally here,” she sobbed. “Sera hit me in front of everyone and said she’s the real Sterling heiress.” Julian’s gaze swept over the scene, and the bodyguards holding me instantly let go. “Sera, are you okay? Are you hurt?” Seeing that Julian wasn’t scolding me but was worried instead, Clarissa’s face twisted with anger. “Brother, your taste is really something else. A girl like this is fine to play with for a while, but are you seriously planning to keep her in the family?” “Or do you also think she’s the real heiress?” Julian frowned, looking uncomfortable. “Clarissa, this is supposed to be a happy occasion. Let’s not ruin it.” But she wasn’t having it. Her voice grew louder, more aggressive. “Am I wrong? She’s a parasite who only survives because of our family’s charity!” “I heard she only got into her university because of the Sterling family’s connections. What is she if not a gold digger?” The guests started murmuring. “So she’s not just an adopted daughter, but a leech too. How shameless!” “She uses the Sterling name to build herself up and then claims the family owes everything to her.” “Now that the real heiress is back, she’s nothing more than a bed warmer.” I clenched my fists, my eyes locked on Julian. But he just kept frowning, his voice low. “That’s enough. Stop making a scene.” Clarissa, however, was relentless. She grabbed my wrist and held it high for everyone to see. “This bracelet is the new limited edition, isn’t it? What right does a bed warmer have to wear something like this?” She turned to Julian. “Brother, a five-million-dollar bracelet… you really are generous. But now that I’m back, she’s not taking a single thing from this family with her!” With that, she tried to rip the bracelet off my wrist. It was a perfect fit and wouldn’t budge. The metal dug painfully into my skin, but she refused to let go. Julian finally stepped in. “That’s enough, Clarissa! If you want one, I’ll buy you another.” She jutted out her chin, her eyes challenging me. “I want the one on her wrist!” “It won’t come off? Someone, get me a cleaver! If the bracelet won’t come off, then neither will her hand!” My voice, when I finally spoke, was like ice. “Clarissa.” She gave me a playful, mocking look. “What is it, Seraphina? What are you going to do? What can you do?” Before the words were even out of her mouth, I kicked her squarely in the knee. With a thud, she collapsed to the floor, groaning in pain. Julian rushed to her side, his face etched with concern. “Are you hurt anywhere?” Then, he turned to me, his expression furious. “Sera, you’ve gone too far today. Apologize to Clarissa. Now!” I laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. “Apologize? She publicly called me a whore, your plaything, and threatened to chop off my hand, and you want me to apologize?” Julian’s face was grim. “Clarissa’s young, she’s just running her mouth. Do you really have to stoop to her level?” “If you don’t apologize today, don’t blame me for turning my back on you!” He glared at me, seething. Clarissa hid behind him, wearing the smug, triumphant look of the true heiress. “How can a fake compare to the real thing? She should learn her place.” “Exactly. Julian tried to be nice, but she resorted to violence. They’ve clearly spoiled her rotten.” “Someone needs to teach her a lesson before she gets completely out of control!” The guests’ whispers reached my ears, but Julian acted as if he heard nothing. “I’ll say it one more time. Apologize!” I looked at the man before me, a complete stranger. Meeting his furious gaze, I asked, “And if I don’t?” Clarissa jumped in before he could answer. “If you don’t apologize, we’re kicking you out of this house today! Let’s see where a stray dog like you will go!” Julian nodded in silent agreement. “The Sterling family has protected you for years. Instead of being grateful, you attack Clarissa! Your arrogance is unbelievable!” he spat. “And don’t give me that nonsense about how you’re the reason for our family’s success. We let it slide because you were a kid, but did you really start believing your own ridiculous fantasy about having some magic power? What a joke.” The coldness that washed over me was absolute. All those years, everything I had done for them, they had simply taken for granted. Clarissa howled with laughter. “What ‘power of Utterance’? Have you been watching too much TV? You’ve got to be delusional! The Sterling family is a massive enterprise. You really think we’d go bankrupt without you?!” Just then, the ballroom doors opened again. Mom and Dad, Jasmine and Richard, had returned from their meeting. Dad spoke first, his voice low and displeased. “What is the three of you doing? Making a spectacle of yourselves in front of our guests?” Clarissa latched onto his arm, whining like a child. “Dad, don’t be mad. It was all Seraphina. She was saying the family can’t survive without her, and it just made me so angry. Besides, she’s an outsider. I’m your real daughter.” Mom, Jasmine, pulled Clarissa into her arms, her eyes scanning her from head to toe, frantic with worry, as if terrified she’d suffered the slightest harm. Though her words were meant for the crowd, her eyes shot a look at me, a flicker of blame she couldn’t quite hide. “Sera, how could you say such things in front of everyone?” Clarissa pouted. “I just wanted my sister’s bracelet, and she started yelling at me.” Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes. “Mom, she’s just the adopted daughter. Why does she get to wear such an expensive bracelet?” Mom hugged her tighter, cooing softly. “And your brother… giving something so valuable to an outsider. He has no sense.” I stared at my mother, stunned. The word “outsider,” coming from her lips, was a final, brutal shredding of the last piece of dignity I had left in front of all these people. I felt the blood rush to my head, then recede just as quickly, leaving only a bone-deep chill. Clarissa shot me a triumphant, gloating look. I looked back at Mom, all hope extinguished. “When you were sick, I saved your life. You told me then that I was your real daughter. What about now?” Every time I used my power, it left me physically drained. The time I saved Mom was the worst; I was bedridden for three whole months. Her hand swung through the air, and my cheek stung with a fresh wave of pain. “Clarissa is the rightful heiress of this family, my only daughter! You were nothing but her substitute,” she hissed. “And you saved me? The only people I have to thank are my doctors! Stop trying to take credit for everything!” Dad’s brow furrowed. “Give the bracelet to Clarissa. It’s what you owe her.” The words caught in my throat. “Dad, what about the contract I told you to sign, the one that made the family fortune? Have you forgotten that?” Richard’s face darkened. “That was my foresight and strategic planning. What does it have to do with you? You think you can make this family the richest in the city with just a few words? You’re dreaming!” Julian scoffed, looking down his nose at me. “I won the Best Actor award because I have a good eye for scripts. It had nothing to do with you.” I was a plague. The entire Sterling family was recoiling from me. But without my power, how could they have ever reached these heights? The gossiping guests grew bolder. “To say the Sterling family relies on her is absurd. She really thinks she’s someone special!” “She’s probably got a few screws loose. They should kick her out before she causes more trouble!” Clarissa’s voice dripped with victory. “The ‘power of Utterance’? Someone’s been watching too many cartoons! Anyway, I’m back now. Let’s just kick her out today and be done with it!” Julian nodded. “I only have one sister, and I won’t have just any stray claiming to be family.” Mom ordered me to kneel and apologize to my “sister.” Dad’s voice boomed. “Butler, throw Seraphina out immediately. Strip her of everything that belongs to the Sterling family. She leaves with nothing. I want to see what becomes of an ungrateful wretch like her without our protection.” I laughed, a laugh born of pure rage. As the Sterlings stared in shock, I uttered the words for the very first time as a curse. “From this day forward, the Sterling family’s fortune will plummet. Misfortune will cling to them like a shadow, and nothing they do will ever succeed.”

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My childhood best friend always thought I was stupid. He spent three years trying to teach me how to swim and failed. Yet, he managed to teach his cute little junior from school in just three days. In the pool, the girl wrapped herself around him like she had no bones. “My leg cramped, Gavin. I have to hold onto you. Mia won’t be mad, will she?” I stared at them coldly for a moment. And then, I suddenly woke up. Later, when Gavin saw me at the natatorium, clinging like a koala to a coach with pale skin, broad shoulders, a snatched waist, and a six-pack, he ground his teeth so hard I thought they’d crack. “Mia! Get down from there right now!” I leaned into the massive, muscular chest of my protective new coach and feigned shyness. “You know what? You really do learn faster this way.” 1 I stood by the poolside. Gavin was helping his junior, Lily, practice kicking. They were facing each other, holding hands. It didn’t look like a swimming lesson. It looked like a scene from The Bachelor. “Mia, do you see this? She’s only been learning for three days and look at those splashes. I taught you for three years and you’re still doing the doggy paddle.” Gavin had taught me for three years, true. But every session ended with him mocking my posture or starting a splash fight until we both gave up. He never treated me with the patience he was showing her. Suddenly, a squeal echoed from the water. Lily yelped and threw her arms around Gavin’s neck. “Gavin! My thigh hurts…” Without a word, Gavin scooped her up in a bridal carry. He shot a provocative look my way. He was betting on my jealousy. After fifteen years of friendship, he was used to me pining after him. He thought he had me figured out. The girl shrank into his arms, looking at me with wide, innocent doe eyes. “My leg cramped. I had to have him hold me. Mia isn’t mad, is she?” Gavin raised an eyebrow at me, casual and arrogant. I stared at them. I felt something heavy in my chest sink to the bottom. And shatter. I turned around and walked away without looking back. 2 If this one can’t teach me, I’ll find one who can. Stop looking for problems within yourself and start blaming others. That’s my new motto. If Gavin could teach Lily instantly, then clearly, I just needed the right motivation. I needed a hot coach who could princess-carry me in the water, encourage me, and keep me entertained. I marched straight to the aquatic center my uncle owned. I slammed my list of non-negotiables on his desk. “I want pale skin. Broad shoulders, narrow waist. Abs are mandatory. Pecs are mandatory. Biceps are mandatory. He has to be over six feet tall, single-digit body fat, long legs, good proportions. No uggos, no old guys. He needs a nice voice and gentle eyes.” My uncle’s face twisted up like a pretzel. “Mia, honey, are you hiring a coach or looking for a boyfriend?” “I don’t care! If you can’t find a coach like that, I’ll never learn to swim!” “You child… who picks a swim coach based on their abs?” Just then, a splash echoed through the glass. A man stood up in the lap pool. Water droplets rolled down his porcelain skin, over broad shoulders, a tapered waist, and abs that looked carved from marble. His chest was distractingly defined. He swept his wet hair back with one hand, revealing a face so handsome it felt like an attack. I grabbed my uncle’s arm, shaking him. “Him! That one! I want him!” Uncle Ray slapped my hand away. “He doesn’t take students. Stop drooling. That’s Chase. He’s a pro athlete. He just trains here during his off-season.” I pouted, disappointed. The man tilted his head, towel-drying his hair. Water dripped from his sharp jawline. His gaze, half-amused, drifted over and collided with mine. “What’s wrong with her?” he asked my uncle. “Oh, Mia is my niece. She hasn’t learned to swim in three years and insists she needs a hot guy to teach her. It’s ridiculous. Blaming the coach’s face for her lack of skills…” “Three years and still can’t swim?” Chase raised an eyebrow. He looked at me, the amusement in his eyes deepening. “Uncle Ray, put her on my schedule. I’ll teach her.” 3 I didn’t expect Chase to be so easygoing. He was a literal National Level swimmer, yet he was willing to teach a potato like me. “No competitions coming up. I’m bored,” he said, leaning down toward me. His handsome face was suddenly inches from mine. I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. “Is it true? Three years and you still can’t swim?” His voice was deep, magnetic. I nodded awkwardly. Chase smirked. “Then it really must be the coach’s fault.” Professional athletes really are built different. Before we even got in the water, he had to go over the theory. Chase was shirtless, a towel draped casually over his shoulders. Because I was significantly shorter, he had to lean in constantly. The distance was… intimate. High nose bridge, thick lashes, a bobbing Adam’s apple dampened by humidity… I quickly looked down. Full chest, deep-cut abs, the V-line disappearing into his trunks… Jesus. This was too much for a teenage girl to handle. “Got it?” Chase waved a hand in front of my face. “If you don’t understand any of the points I just made, just ask.” Points? What points? I was too busy connecting the dots on his abs. “Um… your physique is too distracting. I think I got dizzy. Can you explain it again?” I thought he’d be like Gavin—impatient, calling me stupid or unfocused. Instead, he paused, then let out a low chuckle. His eyes curved into crescents, utterly bewitching. “Sorry. That was inconsiderate of me.” He went into the locker room, threw on a T-shirt, came back out, and explained everything again, slowly and carefully. 4 Theory met practice. It was time to get wet. I’ve been terrified of water since I was a kid. The moment it goes past my chest, I panic. Chase seemed to sense it. He got in first and held out a hand. “Don’t be scared. Come on. I’ll catch you.” I plucked up the courage to step down, but my foot slipped on the tile. I pitched forward, losing my balance. The water rushed over my head. Panic set in. My hands flailed wildly, grabbing onto… well, something I probably shouldn’t have grabbed. Chase stabilized me, holding me up by the arms. My face exploded with heat. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I slipped and panicked and—” His expression was calm, though the tips of his ears were a suspicious shade of pink. “When you’re drowning, anything is a lifeline, right?” I was mortified. “You aren’t mad?” He smiled faintly, his tone gentle. “Next time, I’ll hold you tighter. I promise I won’t let you slip.” When I got out of the pool, my phone was vibrating off the bench. It was a wall of texts from Gavin. You jealous? If you don’t reply, I know you’re actually mad. Okay, fine. I dropped the junior off. Where are you? I’ll come find you. Are you seriously mad? It’s such a small thing, don’t be dramatic. I rolled my eyes so hard it hurt and let out a long breath. I locked the screen. Out of sight, out of mind. “Boyfriend?” Chase’s voice came from the water. He was leaning against the pool edge, arms resting on the deck, water glistening on his muscles. “No,” I denied. “He’s…” I used to think of Gavin as my boyfriend-in-waiting. We grew up together. He was good-looking, and girls always flocked to him, but he treated me differently. He teased me, sure, but he always coaxed me back. I thought he was just dense. But seeing how gentle he was with Lily proved he wasn’t clueless. He just didn’t want to be that way with me. I forced a bitter smile. “He’s my former swimming coach. The one who couldn’t teach me in three years.” Chase nodded thoughtfully. “His loss. No wonder he’s the ‘former’ coach.”

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