Author: Momo Chan

My best friend’s aunt and I had been secretly in love for three years. I planned to finally go public with our relationship on our third anniversary. But the day before, I went with my best friend to her company to congratulate her on a successful project wrap-up. Instead, I found my beloved embracing her male secretary. My best friend exclaimed, “Looks like my Aunt Vivian is finally getting married!” My nails dug into my palms, and I pretended to be casual. “Yeah, they really… look great together!” When Sam Sterling and I arrived at Vivian Sterling’s CEO office, she was just standing up. She swapped her heels for flats, walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, and glanced down, tapping something on her phone. My phone screen instantly lit up. I quickly checked it, hiding it from Sam’s view. It was a SnapChat message from her: “Just finished up.” Seeing the dark circles under her eyes, my heart ached. New CEO, facing a company financial crisis – the burden on her shoulders was immense. I was glad she finally had a moment to herself. I hadn’t wanted to disturb her when she was busy. I was about to step forward when Sam Sterling yanked me behind a large decorative plant, motioning for me to keep quiet. Executive Assistant Adam Cole knocked and entered, walking smoothly towards Vivian Sterling. Dressed in a sharp suit, leather shoes, he was clearly educated and capable. He adjusted his tie, revealing long, slender fingers. Sam raised an eyebrow. “Holy cow, Leo, am I seeing this right?” “That gorgeous guy, is he really having a secret office romance with my aunt?” They definitely weren’t. Because the one dating your aunt was me. Tomorrow would mark three years since Vivian Sterling and I started dating. Even though it was a secret affair that no one knew about, I deeply believed she loved me. Our feelings were indestructible. I had no doubt about it. Yet, the next second, Adam Cole leaned in and whispered something into Vivian Sterling’s ear. Vivian Sterling playfully punched him, feigning annoyance, but he laughed heartily and wrapped an arm around her slender waist. Pulling her fully into his embrace. A sudden chill snaked through my heart. But Sam, oblivious, excitedly pulled me along, rushing into the office. “Aunt Vivian! I caught you two red-handed with your office romance! Time for some hush money!” Vivian Sterling’s gaze swept over our faces, and her expression instantly turned cold. “Who gave you permission to just barge in and talk out of turn?” Adam Cole quickly released her, his cheeks flushing. But Vivian Sterling’s hand, which had been resting on his arm, tightened its grip. “Why are you being so fierce? Leo said his mom made some comforting broth, and he brought some especially for you.” Vivian Sterling’s eyes landed on my face, and I gave a slight nod. But that broth wasn’t made by my mother. I’d researched old recipes, staying up all night to cook it myself with love. I’d even asked someone to find premium ingredients, worried Vivian Sterling might overwork herself. Of course, she knew all this. Using secret codes to express our love in front of others was our unspoken little flirtation. Adam Cole raised an eyebrow. “Since Ms. Sterling has someone bringing her dinner, I guess I’ll enjoy those delicious spicy chicken wings all by myself.” I loved spicy food, couldn’t live without it. But Vivian Sterling had an irregular diet in her early years and a sensitive stomach. After I found out, I never stepped foot in a spicy restaurant again. Vivian Sterling spoke coolly, “No need. Take them back.” Sam pouted. “Hmph, I was hoping to snag some.” “But seriously, you two really kept it under wraps.” Adam Cole glanced timidly at Vivian Sterling, then spoke. “Not really, it’s only been… two months.” Two months. I’d been completely in the dark… Sam listened, clicking his tongue in amazement. “My aunt has finally blossomed. And she moved fast.” Adam Cole shook his head, biting his lip with a handsome smile. “Ms. Sterling is very loyal. After I left three years ago, she didn’t date anyone. She even sent me good morning and good night messages every day.” Three years ago, it was her, flushed from too much wine, who shyly asked me, “Can we be together?” For three years, I stayed up late with her, working overtime. On her sleepless nights, I sang lullabies until dawn. For three years, she took me all over the country. Under the dazzling fireworks at amusement parks, she called me her only prince. I gave her all my love, but her heart held another person. Not long ago, on my birthday, I closed my eyes, making a heartfelt wish. When I opened them, she was looking down, replying to messages. My wish was for a future with Vivian Sterling. Was she, perhaps, wishing for an early reunion with her beloved? Lost in thought, Sam suddenly grabbed my arm excitedly. “Leo, real couples are the best! It’s my favorite kind of second-chance romance!” My ears roared. The world faded, leaving only my own voice, trying to sound calm but trembling uncontrollably. “Yeah, they do look well-matched.” A talented woman and a capable man, a perfectly matched couple – far more suitable than Vivian and I ever appeared. They chatted animatedly, with Vivian Sterling occasionally interjecting. “Don’t ask so many questions, he’s shy, don’t tease him.” “He knows all these things, Adam and I have no secrets.” “Did my nephew bother you? Do you want to go rest for a bit?” I ignored these words until Sam finally pulled me away. Adam Cole’s voice drifted from behind us. “I told you not to make our relationship public out there!” “If I hadn’t pushed a little, who knows how long you would’ve made me wait.” So, she wasn’t just capable of a secret relationship. She just… didn’t love me.

The next day was the annual family gathering. Vivian Sterling and I were supposed to reveal our relationship to everyone today. After we started dating, it was her idea to keep it from family. “Our situation is a bit unique. If my sister found out I tricked a boy nearly her son’s age into being my boyfriend, she’d never approve.” I believed her, so I willingly waited for myself to get older before going public with those we both knew. Half a month ago, I hugged her, playfully asking, “My career is stable now, and you’re a CEO. Can we go public on our three-year anniversary?” She agreed without a second thought. Then… the company projects suddenly piled up. Forget meeting for dinner; I’d message her two days ago, and she’d only remember to reply today. I spent a sleepless night. The next day, with dark circles under my eyes, I stared at the surprise gifts I’d prepared for her in my closet. All sorts of little things she loved. I wanted to offer myself as a gift to her. But now, it seemed, there was no need. I slammed the closet door shut. My phone rang loudly. It was Vivian Sterling. The moment I answered, she directly asked, “The Sterling family dinner is tonight. Are you coming?” I clutched my phone, letting out a soft laugh as I countered, “Do you want me to?” Vivian Sterling was silent for a moment on the other end, then sighed. “Leo, it’s just a family gathering, after all.” “Since you’re Sam’s friend, you’re practically a junior in the family. Why don’t you just come and join us?” Three years of devotion, only to be called a “junior.” I wasn’t an idiot. She just wanted to use the gathering as an excuse to lay it all out for me. That Vivian Sterling and I could only be elder and junior. Or, perhaps, we had never truly crossed that boundary. I suddenly understood the depth of her intention in never making our relationship public. An unknown relationship could be ended so easily. Just like now, without even a formal breakup. How pathetic, truly pathetic. I curled my lips. “Sure, I’ll be there.” Vivian Sterling unhappily said, “I’ll be bringing Adam Cole with me…” “Don’t worry, I won’t disturb you two.” Vivian Sterling hung up quickly, as if shedding a huge burden. I didn’t understand why she was so loving yesterday, but today she was avoiding me like the plague. I changed into my sharpest suit and left the house. The Sterling family dinner was held at the city’s most exclusive hotel, with many business elites invited. I didn’t know any of them. Vivian Sterling had once told me I didn’t need to meet these people. But towards Adam Cole, they were utterly respectful, calling him “the CEO’s right-hand man” and fearing even the slightest disrespect. The Sterling elders all sighed, saying that Vivian Sterling had searched far and wide, only to return to Adam Cole’s side after all. Apparently, they had been the ‘it couple’ in high school. It was just that Vivian Sterling had no standing in the family back then, and Adam Cole believed they had no future, so he left the city. It wasn’t until Adam Cole returned and became Vivian Sterling’s right-hand man that their old flame rekindled at work. Amidst everyone’s flattery, Adam Cole raised his glass to acknowledge them. Vivian Sterling walked directly to him, clinked glasses, and drank it all down. The cheers in the room nearly blew off the roof. I just watched silently. In this setting, no one would notice me. I suddenly felt I had come to humiliate myself. Vivian Sterling knew my personality: gentle, obedient, always thinking of others, never one to cause a scene or embarrass her in public. Of course, I wouldn’t. Even if I rushed onto the stage and told everyone I’d had a three-year secret affair with Vivian Sterling, only I would be the one to look foolish. But since I was here, it would be a shame not to drink my fill of the fine wine at the banquet. Eventually, Sam helped me, stumbling and drunk, to the entrance, telling me to stay put while he went to get the car. As soon as he left, I staggered off in the opposite direction. On this holiday night, couples on the streets embraced, whispering sweet nothings. I just wanted to find a corner, cry my heart out, and then sleep for days. Suddenly, the aroma of grilled meat wafted over. Under the dim yellow lights, the BBQ joint was bustling. This place was famous for its spice, and I hadn’t been here in three whole years. As if possessed, I walked inside.

I slowly walked to the front desk, hoping to find a seat. “Sorry, sir, it’s a holiday today. There are no tables left for a single person. Perhaps you could come back another day?” I looked back. Everyone in the restaurant was seated in pairs. I, alone, felt completely out of place. My stomach growled at an inconvenient moment. I’d barely eaten anything since yesterday and was starving. My girlfriend, who was supposed to be my future wife, had suddenly become someone else’s, and now I couldn’t even find a place to eat. Just adding insult to injury. Just then, a server led a tall, beautiful woman in a long dress into the restaurant. She was also alone but had made a reservation beforehand and was now about to start eating. Normally, I probably would have given up and left to find somewhere else. But today, driven by alcohol, I found a strange boldness rising within me. I walked up to her. “Hello!” She didn’t stop her motion of picking up meat. “No QR scans, no likes, and no SnapChat adds.” I realized she’d misunderstood and quickly lowered my head, speaking earnestly. “Hello, excuse me, could I share your table? All the nearby places are full, and this is my last chance.” “I know this is presumptuous, so I’ll pay for this meal. Would that be okay?” The woman eyed me suspiciously. It was then that I truly saw her face. Exquisitely beautiful. It was hard to imagine such radiant openness and reserved composure coexisting on one face. Both her appearance and temperament were top-tier. She gave a slight nod. I was overjoyed and prepared to sit down, but I clumsily knocked over a plate of thinly sliced beef, which landed squarely on her high-heeled shoe. I frantically bent down to pick it up, and she happened to look up. Our foreheads collided with a harsh thud. “Ouch!” Tears welled up in my eyes, but I still instinctively reached out to rub her forehead. She silently pushed my hand away. “You’re paying for this meal, and the shoe cleaning fee will be separate.” I nodded furiously. “No problem, no problem!” When I finally sat down, wrapping a few slices of grilled beef in lettuce and stuffing a large bite into my mouth, I was so happy I almost cried. Damn Vivian Sterling, that manipulative fraud. She stole three years of my youth and sincerity. I used to read about those instant-gratification romance stories in novels. I never thought one day it would happen to me. I picked up another piece of meat, dipped it in sauce, and after swallowing it, found it tasted bitter and salty. I realized, without knowing it, my face was streaked with tears. The beautiful woman silently pushed a tissue box toward me. I pulled out tissues, thanked her, cried, and couldn’t stop stuffing meat into my mouth. After eating and drinking my fill, the alcohol completely took over. I held a piece of meat, trying several times, but couldn’t successfully drop it into my dipping sauce bowl. I looked up at the beautiful woman, but she had multiplied into several, swaying before my eyes. My phone rang. I stared at the dozen blinking red and green buttons on the screen, unsure which to press. A slender hand reached out, swiped across the screen, and answered the call directly. “Leo! Where the hell did you run off to, you rascal!” I weakly mumbled, “Sam, hey—” “Give me your location!” I was confused. “Sam, hehe.” Sam was frantic. “Hehe what, where are you, seriously!” The beautiful woman sighed and gave the address. “At Star BBQ.” Sam Sterling burst in and immediately grabbed my ear, looking utterly disappointed. Vivian Sterling was also there, but she merely stood to the side, arms crossed, her expression cold. Adam Cole’s gaze, however, kept drifting towards the beautiful woman.

The next day, Sam asked me, “Why were you having dinner with Scarlett Hayes yesterday?” Scarlett Hayes? I asked him, “You know that beautiful woman from yesterday?” “Are you kidding? In the entire city, who doesn’t know the Hayes Corporation heiress? Even the bottled water you’re drinking is her family’s business.” Then he added mysteriously, “I heard Adam Cole’s high school crush was actually Ms. Hayes.” I remembered now. I’d seen that name in the company’s financial reports before. Scarlett Hayes’s project report took up an entire page, leaving Vivian Sterling an inconspicuous little corner. How had Vivian Sterling described her back then? Just a rich kid relying on her family, wouldn’t amount to much. At the time, I believed her, trusted every word she said. But now, I had a huge question mark hanging over everything Vivian Sterling had ever told me. The innate grace and upbringing Scarlett Hayes possessed were undeniable. Speaking of which, I suddenly remembered I was supposed to treat her to dinner. And I’d accidentally skipped out on the bill. I made myself a cup of honey water to sober up, and my phone rang. It was Vivian Sterling. “You were so drunk yesterday, are you okay? I’ve already called in sick for you at work today.” Her tone was familiar and natural, just as caring as before. I couldn’t help but remember the past, how strictly Vivian Sterling managed my drinking. “You can only get drunk when I’m by your side.” Unfortunately, all those promises were long null and void for me. Now, that sentiment belonged only to Vivian Sterling’s official boyfriend. I scoffed. “Ms. Sterling is so busy, yet she spares time to care for an ex-boyfriend. I’m truly flattered.” Vivian Sterling choked on her words, then after a moment of silence, said, “It’s just concern from an elder. I don’t want to see you fall into bad habits.” The Vivian Sterling of my memories remembered all my hobbies, bought me the latest action figures without ever finding me childish, dropped everything to be with me when I was sick, and every six months, took me to explore a new city, taking countless photos. Three years. I thought we loved each other deeply enough. She played the role of a girlfriend too perfectly, which made it impossible for me to accept her broken character now. But she had repeatedly stressed that we were merely elder and junior. If I continued to cling to her, I would lose all respect for myself. I laughed and replied, “No need. You no longer have the right to care about me!” Hung up, deleted, blocked—all in one swift motion. My cloud drive held nearly ten gigabytes of photos, documenting the sweet moments Vivian Sterling and I shared over three years. Even the most precious memories, once love became a thing of the past, would turn into torture.

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Rushing to get my mom’s asthma medication, my husband’s secretary, Chloe, insisted I take her to the salon first. I explained the emergency and refused. Before I could even start the car, Damian yanked me out. “You know Chloe just started, she’s clueless about the local roads. What if she misses her appointment at the salon?” I stared at him, utterly dumbfounded. “A salon appointment can be rescheduled, but if someone’s life is on the line, you can’t bring them back. Are you trying to kill my mom?” Damian quickly tried to placate me. “Of course not! I’ll take you there myself, right now.” But the car drove further and further into desolate territory until it stopped on a gravel road. Damian kicked me out of the car. He made Chloe ride on my back, then grabbed a whip and urged me forward. “Didn’t you say if someone’s life is on the line, you can’t bring them back?” “Hurry up and crawl, or your mom is going to die!” My knees sank into the sharp gravel, a searing pain making me almost cry out. Chloe’s hands pressed into my shoulders, her grip tightening with every second. She even chuckled, saying, “Slow down a bit, I’m still riding here, you know.” I bit down hard, trying to inch forward, but as soon as my knees lifted off the ground, the stones beneath them scraped painfully again. All the strength drained from my body, leaving me sprawled on the spot. Suddenly, Damian raised the whip and lashed it across my leg. A burning, fiery pain shot up my thigh. The black skirt instantly ripped, revealing a swollen red welp. I trembled uncontrollably. “What are you dragging your feet for? Isn’t your mom about to die?” He stood over me, whip in hand, looking down with contempt. “You cried and begged me to marry you, swearing to repay my kindness. Now you won’t even take Chloe to the salon. What good are you to me?” The humiliation and terror finally broke through, tears streaming down my cheeks. I looked up, my vision blurred by tears. “I really need to take my mom’s medication… Damian, please, just let me go, okay?” “I promise, as soon as I deliver the medicine to my mom, I’ll take Chloe to the salon. Please?” Chloe leaned down, wiping away my tears with her fingertips. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re crying again! Damian, how are we supposed to have fun with all this sniffling? What a buzzkill!” Her fingertips were icy cold, and a shiver ran through me as they brushed my cheek. Then, she suddenly leaned in and kissed me on the lips. I froze, wanting to recoil as if bitten by a viper, but she just giggled. “Why are you so upset? Damian sacrificed so much for you, even his own self-respect. What’s wrong with playing a little game with us? ” “This is just normal fun, relax, you’ll find the pleasure in it soon enough.” Damian’s lips curved into a cold sneer when he heard that, and he raised the whip again. “Hear that? Chloe’s more reasonable than you.” “If you don’t start moving, I can’t guarantee your mom will get her medicine.” At his words, my tears flowed even harder. I knew Damian was a man of his word. But the searing pain in my knees and the crushing weight on my back left me without the strength to crawl even an inch forward. I could only lie there, letting my tears fall onto the gravel road, silently screaming inside: Mom, just wait for me, please just wait a little longer…

Chloe’s fingers idly played with the stray hairs around my ear, her nail grazing my sweat-soaked skin. “Skylar, I almost forgot to ask, dressed so nicely today, are you *really* just going to deliver medicine?” Before I could protest, she pressed harder on my shoulder, her voice hissing in my ear like a snake’s tongue. “Damian thinks it’s strange too. You’re not using the medicine as an excuse to meet someone else, are you?” “I’m not!” I tried to lift my head to deny it, but she held me down tightly. My mouth hit the gravel, and I tasted blood. Damian’s whip cracked again, but this time it landed on the empty ground beside me. Small stones flew up, leaving tiny cuts on my arm, making me flinch in terror. “Chloe’s right,” his voice was as cold as ice. “If you have nothing to hide, why are you so dressed up?” “Today, I’m going to teach you a lesson. You need to remember whose wife you are.” With that, he moved closer. Seeing this, Chloe released me and stood up, smiling. “Don’t be scared, Skylar. This is just a game Damian and I play all the time. It’s just a small punishment.” “Since you can’t carry me, I won’t make it hard for you.” “See that small dirt mound up ahead? Just crawl up there.” “If we’re satisfied, we’ll let you go deliver the medicine to your mom, okay?” A faint spark of hope ignited in my heart, but before I could move, Chloe walked over to the car and pulled out a black cloth bag. She squatted beside me and opened it. What was inside made my pupils shrink: several strange, unsettling-looking toys with a cold glint that made my skin crawl. “What are these…?” My voice trembled. I tried to pull back, but Damian stepped forward and pressed his foot down on my ankle. His shoe heel dug into my flesh, and tears instantly welled up in my eyes from the pain. “For your entertainment.” Damian squatted down, pinching my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Since it’s a game, we might as well make it fun.” Chloe leaned in too, her fingertip tracing the whip marks on my thigh. I flinched from the pain. “Be a good girl, Skylar, just relax. It’ll be over soon.” She said, then, ignoring my desperate headshakes and struggles, she forced the device into my body. A sharp, alien sensation coursed through me. I trembled as if struck by electricity, shame and agony overwhelming me like a tidal wave. I wanted to scream, but Damian covered my mouth with a handkerchief. I struggled fiercely, so he bound my wrists with a rope. Chloe held her phone, the camera focused squarely on me, the screen’s light reflecting on her face as she smiled, dazzling and cruel. “Alright, now you can crawl.” Damian removed the handkerchief from my mouth, his voice laced with mockery. The device vibrated inside me. A strange thrill mixed with bone-deep humiliation, making me feel like I was losing my mind. “Skylar, if you don’t move, we might be stuck here all day.” I bit my lip, my knees bleeding on the gravel path as I slowly, painfully inched forward. With every movement, the vibrations inside me intensified, tears mixing with sweat as they hit the ground. Chloe kept snapping photos, the shutter clicks echoing like each one was tearing away a piece of my dignity. I don’t know how long I crawled before I collapsed onto the ground, utterly spent. I was completely drenched in sweat, the device still vibrating inside me. My bruised and cut skin stuck to the scorching earth, a mix of throbbing pain and numbness. Chloe turned off her phone and laughed. “See? Even the ‘good girl’ can be tamed.” Damian finally looked satisfied. He reached down and pulled the device out of my body. I felt all my strength drain away, collapsing to the ground, gasping for breath. He stood above me, his voice devoid of warmth. “Don’t worry, Chloe already sent someone to deliver the medicine to your mom.” Chloe squatted down and patted my face. “Thank you, Skylar. You put on such a good show, we were thoroughly entertained.” “Next time, make sure to perform well too, okay?” After they finished, they turned and got into the car. The car sped off, leaving me alone on the gravelly dirt mound.

By the time the car wheels finally hit the last stretch of familiar asphalt, dawn was breaking. No GPS, my phone confiscated. I relied on blurry memories, taking countless wrong turns. Just as the gas tank neared empty, I finally spotted the familiar streetlamp outside my house. Pushing open the car door, the scabs on my knees tore open, a sharp pain shooting through me. Every step felt like walking on knives. I crept into my mother’s room. Seeing her lying peacefully in bed, the worry that had gnawed at me all day finally eased. After tucking her blankets in, I dragged my exhausted body towards our bedroom. The moment I reached the doorway, the sounds from inside froze me. It was Chloe’s soft humming, laced with laughter, and Damian’s low gasps. My heart pounded, and my fingers trembled as I pushed the door open just a crack. The sight before me made my stomach churn. Chloe sat on Damian, her fingers twisting a black leather chain. The other end was fastened around Damian’s neck. She leaned in, whispering something into his ear. Damian’s head rested against the headboard, his eyes half-closed, a look of submission I’d never seen on his face. Chloe seemed to sense my gaze. She turned, and seeing me, she didn’t even try to hide. Instead, she smiled and raised the chain in her hand. “Skylar, you’ve come at just the right time.” Damian opened his eyes, his gaze on me as cold as ice. “Why are you standing in the doorway? Come in.” My feet felt like lead, utterly unable to move. That was our bedroom, our bed, now a place for their sordid affair. Nausea rose in my throat. I covered my mouth, wanting to turn and run, but Damian’s sharp voice stopped me. “Stop! Who told you to leave?” Chloe slid off Damian, straightened her wrinkled skirt, and walked over to me. She reached out and patted my face. “Skylar, Damian wants you to stay and serve us. You can’t be disobedient, can you?” As she spoke, she handed me a silver tray holding a glass of iced water. The chill of the ice seeped through the silver to my fingertips, making me shiver. “If Damian gets thirsty later, you’ll feed him water.” I clutched the silver tray, my fingertips turning numb. Damian leaned against the headboard, looking at me with a sneer. “What? Not willing? I saved your life, and you won’t even do this much for me?” His words pierced my heart like needles. I remembered the car accident three years ago. He’d thrown himself over me, pulling me from the mangled car, only to have a falling steel plate crush his lower body. I remembered crying as I called off my engagement with Liam, saying, “I owe him my life; I have to repay it.” I remembered my father, before he died, grasping my hand and saying, “Damian is a reliable man. I trust him with the family business.” For three years, he had indeed done well, managing the family company my father left behind, tripling its size. I thought that by giving him my marriage, my submission, and our family’s resources, I had repaid him enough. But when did he become like this? Was it when he took over the family business and Chloe appeared by his side? Or was it when he started mocking me more and more often, always bringing up the ‘debt of gratitude’ to torment me with my own guilt? I looked at him now, his eyes filled with nothing but harsh judgment for me, and my heart ached as if being torn apart. I could only stand by the bed, holding the silver tray. Chloe returned to Damian’s side, picked up a feather, and gently ran it across his chest. “Damian, want to go again?” Damian’s breathing grew heavier. Chloe occasionally glanced at me, her eyes full of provocation. I don’t know how long passed, my eyelids grew heavier and heavier. Leaning against the wall, my head kept drooping. In a daze, a splash of icy liquid suddenly hit my face. “How could you fall asleep?” Chloe laughed. “Damian’s waiting for his water.” Damian sat up, looking at my soaked appearance, and sneered. “I saved your life, and you can’t even stay awake for a bit? Or are you thinking about someone else?” He paused. “Liam’s back, aren’t you happy?” I snapped my head up, looking at him in disbelief. “What, nothing to say?” Damian watched me, the sharpness in his eyes deepening. “Did I hit a nerve? The moment Liam came back, you just couldn’t wait to see him?” “No, that’s not it.” I finally found my voice. “I haven’t even seen him.” Damian scoffed, then abruptly swept the water glass off the nightstand, sending it crashing to the floor. “Still lying! Look at this!” Damian didn’t listen to my explanations at all. He stood up, walking towards me step by step, his tall frame casting a shadow over me. “Believe me, after marrying you, I haven’t had any contact with him.”

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I married the man I had secretly adored for seven years. For three years of our marriage, he brought different women home every night. It made me a laughingstock among our peers. Finally, I decided to let myself loose and started dating a younger man. Turns out, I stumbled upon a young scion from a prominent family, absolutely obsessed with me. He wasn’t after my money or status; he wanted *me*. He cried, begging me for a real commitment, a proper place in his life, again and again in bed. Seductive whispers and low groans echoed through the dimly lit living room, grating on my ears. The moment I pushed open the front door, I saw a torn dress in the foyer, fragments scattered. Down the hallway, women’s lingerie and a man’s dress shirt lay strewn on the floor. That light blue shirt was crumpled into a messy ball. I couldn’t be mistaken. I had personally picked it out for Julian Blackwood when we first got married. Looks like he couldn’t even wait a second, I thought, a bitter laugh in my throat. The two in the living room were still at it. There was no need for me to stand there and eavesdrop. After flipping on the living room light, I walked straight towards my own room. I’d only taken two steps when I heard a woman’s startled cry. Following the sound, my gaze met Julian’s. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment in his eyes at being caught. I wasn’t particularly close to them, only close enough to see Julian’s bare torso, his muscles well-defined, his physique impressive. A few red scratch marks marred his chest, likely a result of their intense passion. I tore my gaze away and headed for the stairs. Just as I was about to go upstairs, Julian’s nonchalant voice drifted after me: “Why are you back so early today?” If it were before, I might have retorted, “Otherwise, how would I have caught you in the act?” But I was used to it by now. After all, I couldn’t even remember how many times I’d “caught him cheating” in our own home. After a long, busy day, I was utterly exhausted and had no desire to speak further with Julian. I simply mumbled, “Work wasn’t too heavy at the office today.” I assumed Julian wouldn’t press the issue, but to my surprise, he was completely out of character today. “Let’s go to dinner this weekend. There’s a new, upscale French bistro that just opened; I hear it’s quite good.” If my mind had been hazy with sleepiness just moments before, his words instantly snapped me awake. I couldn’t quite make out Julian’s intentions. Inviting his wife to dinner this weekend, right in front of the woman he’d just been with—the audacity of that man! A surge of dark amusement possessed me. I turned to look at Julian, meeting his slightly smiling eyes. “Alright.” Almost immediately after I spoke, I could feel the woman’s intense stare from the sofa, impossible to ignore. She had an incredibly innocent face, though the seductive glint in her eyes hadn’t quite faded. She wore an oversized, baggy top, and her exposed neck and collarbone were covered in hickeys. She looked like she’d just been thoroughly ‘taken care of.’ When our eyes met, hers held a mix of pride and triumph, along with a hint of jealousy. My acceptance of Julian’s invitation had probably ruffled her feathers. I found it rather amusing. She was clearly young; her little schemes were transparent, written all over her face. I decided to add fuel to the fire, dropping, “You know, out of all the women he’s brought home, you’re my favorite type.” I could literally see Julian’s face darken. The girl’s face went stark white as she heard my words, her eyes welling up, on the verge of tears. I frankly had no interest in witnessing the classic melodrama that would follow. It would simply be Julian embracing her, offering comfort, and then the two of them tumbling back into bed. Every time Julian brought a woman home, he would restore everything in the house to its original state before I woke up the next morning. I truly didn’t need to worry about it. After all, no matter what my attitude was, Julian would never change because of me.

Early that Saturday, Julian sent me the restaurant location. After finishing my tasks at hand, I headed straight there, still dressed in simple work attire. Even light makeup couldn’t hide the fatigue under my eyes; I was the kind of person who’d blend into any crowd. The moment I stepped into the restaurant, I saw Julian. He sat alone by the window, idly stirring his coffee, an inherent aura about him that seemed to set him apart from his surroundings. For a fleeting second, the image of the spirited, dashing young man from my high school memories overlapped with the figure before me. Seraphina’s arrival abruptly pulled me back to reality. She wore a soft, feminine long dress, her face immaculately made up. She walked directly to Julian’s side, looped her arm through his, and snuggled intimately into his embrace. They leaned into each other, looking perfectly matched, like the leads of a romantic drama. A dense, throbbing pain bloomed in my heart. Even though this wasn’t the first time I’d seen Julian intimate with another woman, and I was used to his infidelity, my heart still tasted bitter. Perhaps it was because their entwined figures so closely resembled how Julian and I used to be together, only the heroine of the story had changed. My arrival, of course, didn’t escape Seraphina’s notice. She shot me a triumphant, slightly provocative gaze, like a child showing off a beloved new toy. Noticing Seraphina’s constant stares in my direction, Julian naturally realized I was there. A rare flicker of awkwardness crossed his face as he gently removed Seraphina’s hand from his arm, then called out, “Eleanor, over here.” I walked over and sat directly opposite them. An awkward silence fell between the three of us. Julian was the first to break the awkward silence, introducing Seraphina. “Eleanor, this is Seraphina, my secretary.” Upon hearing the word “secretary,” Seraphina visibly stiffened, her face darkening. I was about to speak, but Seraphina cut me off. “Hello, Ms. Vance. Julian talks about you often.” Her tone was an overt declaration of ownership. “My apologies, this is the first I’ve heard him mention you,” I said, my voice flat, my face devoid of expression. Seraphina’s face instantly went stark white. She looked pitifully at Julian, as if begging him to intervene. To my surprise, Julian completely ignored Seraphina’s silent plea, saying instead, “Seraphina, go home. This isn’t where you belong.” At his words, Seraphina’s body trembled uncontrollably, her voice shaking. “Julian, I’m not leaving.” Julian beside her remained silent, his expression icy, the pressure around him palpable. Seraphina burst into tears and ran off, leaving me with a resentful glare as she left. Julian said nothing more, simply waved over the waiter and ordered many of my favorite dishes. During dinner, he even meticulously picked out all the mushrooms, which I despise, putting them on his own plate. This instantly reminded me of when we first graduated college. We didn’t have much money, so we lived very frugally. We’d only order one dish at a small cafe. The owner misheard our order and added mushrooms to my plate as usual. I, who hated mushrooms, was at a loss, and too introverted to ask the owner for a new plate. Julian, however, painstakingly picked out every single mushroom and quietly ate them all himself. Noticing I seemed lost in thought, Julian called out to me, “Ellie, what’s wrong?” The way he said my name, combined with the memory of him picking out the mushrooms, made me feel as if I had traveled back to our past. Possessed by a sudden impulse, I asked, “Julian, why did you invite me out to dinner today?” He hadn’t expected such a question. His movements stiffened, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the tabletop. This was a habit of Julian’s; whenever he did this, it meant he was about to lie. I smiled, though my heart ached. I pretended to say nonchalantly, “Just be honest. It wouldn’t happen to be because of your little secretary who just left, would it?” He looked as if a great weight had been lifted. “You always see through me, Eleanor. She’s been too clingy lately, forgetting her place. I actually brought you out to let her know that I’m putting her in her place for a while.” Receiving the answer I expected, it was a lie to say I wasn’t disappointed. But I forced back the tears, at least, I wouldn’t cry in front of him.

I had secretly adored Julian since high school. He was a big shot at our school. Handsome, a star basketball player, and even got a full scholarship to an Ivy League university. Yet, he was a natural playboy, with girlfriends changing constantly. Still, countless girls secretly admired him, myself included. I once thought I was his ‘the one,’ and even my friends believed he had turned over a new leaf for me, that he’d only love me forever. To my dismay, the pretense didn’t last past the third month of our marriage. Taking advantage of my business trip, he directly brought a woman home to stay overnight. I had returned early, filled with joy, hoping to surprise him, as it was the anniversary of when we first became official. All that greeted me was a chaotic scene of infidelity. I was hysterical then, crying and screaming, utterly heartbroken, smashing everything in the house I could lay my hands on. Julian showed no remorse for being caught. Instead, he told me, “Eleanor, it’s impossible for a person to stick with just one person their whole life; trying new things is always good.” Memories flooded back, and my gaze fell upon the wine glass in front of me. I actually didn’t drink, but Julian and I owned a company, and someone always needed to negotiate partnerships, drinking with clients until they were happy, which often sealed the deals. I forced myself to learn how to drink. A cool, clear voice broke through my thoughts: “Sister, drinking this much alone isn’t good for your health.” The person spoke to me, dressed in a hotel waiter’s uniform. He was young, no older than twenty, with exquisite, handsome features. His clean, pristine aura clashed with the noisy bar environment. With the alcohol getting to my head, my thoughts were sluggish. I slurred slightly, “It’s fine. I can handle my liquor.” As I reached for the glass to take another sip, Ly Thorne, with quick, agile hands, snatched it from my grasp. He sat beside me, his bright eyes fixed on mine. “Sister, you’re not allowed to drink anymore.” I was somewhat annoyed that my drink had been taken. I stood up to retrieve it, but my balance was off, and I tumbled right into Ly Thorne’s embrace. He smelled wonderfully clean, unlike Julian, whose scent was often tinged with women’s perfume. Ly smelled faintly of cedarwood. Feeling drowsy, Ly Thorne gently helped me sit up, leaning closer to my face. His voice, a tempting whisper, asked, “Sister, are you tired? Will you come with me?” A handsome face, magnified, filled my vision. His tone was full of genuine concern. As if possessed, I nodded. I don’t know how much time passed. I managed to pry open my eyes, only to see Ly Thorne’s gaze brimming with affection, as if I were the only person in his world. He whispered into my ear, “Sister, are you alright?” His warm breath tickled my skin. I still clung to a sliver of lucidity, but Julian’s words from before echoed in my mind: *trying new things is always good.* I decided to indulge, to live for myself, just this once.

I woke the next day with only a throbbing headache, a hangover from too much wine. Beside me, Ly Thorne was watching me with those innocent eyes, and then I remembered what happened last night. Looking at his youthful, innocent face, I asked, a little nervously, “How old are you?” “I just turned nineteen last month,” he answered obediently. I was simultaneously relieved he was at least eighteen and a little regretful about last night. As if sensing my dilemma, Ly Thorne said considerately, “Sister, you don’t need to be responsible for me.” But as he spoke, he lowered his head, as if he’d been wronged. I, however, felt truly embarrassed. I had initially thought, since he was a waiter, his family probably wasn’t well-off, and I could just compensate him with some money. But with Ly Thorne explicitly saying he didn’t need me to be responsible, offering money now would truly be disrespectful. I gave him my business card. “I owe you an apology. This is my card. I’m Eleanor Vance. If you ever need help with anything, please come find me. I’ll do everything I can to assist you.” Ly Thorne took my card, obediently saying, “Alright, Sister. My name is Lysander Thorne.” I was busy getting dressed and didn’t really pay attention to what he said next, then left in a hurry. Naturally, I didn’t notice the playful yet insistent gaze Ly Thorne fixed on my retreating back. Today was our team meeting at the company. Despite rushing as fast as I could, I was still late. The only difference today was that Julian was there. Seeing me arrive late, his face darkened considerably; anyone could tell he was furious today. After the meeting, I went to the restroom to touch up my makeup. The moment I stepped out, someone yanked me into an adjacent stall. I was about to resist when Julian’s voice came: “Eleanor, you really outdid yourself. Where were you last night?” Though the stall was dim and cramped, I could still make out the fury on Julian’s face. “It’s none of your business. You’re the one who said we should act like strangers at the office.” “Hmph. Where did those hickeys on your neck come from? Out messing around with some random man?” Julian practically gritted his teeth. I looked at Julian with a touch of amusement. “Julian, didn’t you tell me before to try dating younger men? Well, I did. A nineteen-year-old boy-toy, handsomer than you, and better in bed.” Julian’s face went even darker, veins bulging on his right hand. He pinned me against the wall, clearly intending to kiss me. I pushed him with all my might, but he didn’t budge, trapping me in the crook of his arm. My struggles lessened, and he even smirked. I just felt a chill of disgust. Suddenly, the stall door was pushed open by Seraphina. She stared in disbelief at the scene before her. Julian halted his actions then, and I seized the opportunity, slapping Julian hard across his right cheek. I put all my strength into that slap, and his cheek quickly swelled and reddened. I spat, “You’re sick.” An indescribable sense of catharsis washed over me as I walked out without looking back. Julian still tried to hold me back, but Seraphina beside him was crying incessantly, forcing Julian to embrace his little secretary and offer explanations.

After that day, I never again came home to find Julian bringing women over, and Seraphina had been fired. In fact, twice, he had dinner prepared for me, a table laden with all my favorite dishes. Julian’s cooking had always been good; in the first three months of our marriage, he often cooked, even promising to cook for me for a lifetime. But after I discovered his infidelity and made a huge scene, we rarely had the chance to sit down and eat together peacefully. I was somewhat unaccustomed to Julian’s sudden change. I didn’t believe he had fallen back in love with me, but I couldn’t grasp his true motive. On my birthday, he took the day off work early, dressing in the simple white shirt he knew I had loved in high school and college, looking full of youthful charm. Seeing him walk towards me, holding a bouquet, my memory flashed back to three years ago, to his proposal. His eyes had been brimming with deep affection for me, and our friends were cheering, livening the atmosphere. He walked slowly towards me, holding a modest ring, and knelt on one knee. “Ellie, marry me. I’ll be good to you for the rest of my life.” And now, he held a bouquet of my favorite white roses, kneeling on the ground, begging for my forgiveness. “Ellie, I was wrong before. I let you down, did so many things that hurt you. It’s understandable that you’d ignore me. But I’ve realized I can’t live without you. I promise you, I will only love you.” By the end, tears streamed down Julian’s face, yet I remained unmoved. Seeing I made no move, Julian began to slap himself, again and again. Soon, his handsome face became red and swollen, looking quite pathetic, a stark contrast to his usual aloof and self-possessed demeanor. My heart wavered slightly. This was only the second time Julian had cried in front of me. The last time was when we first started our business and lost all our money. Our world felt like it was crashing down, and he cried in my arms like a child. I looked at Julian, and ultimately, my heart softened. I helped him up from the cold floor and told him I forgave him.

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I watched the whole thing unfold, not in a panic, not screaming for help. Instead, I stood there, utterly calm, a silent observer. I watched Mr. Peterson, my father-in-law, gasp his last breath, his struggles fading into silence. In my previous life, I would have rushed forward to save him, but I was always a step too late. He’d died, and my mother-in-law, Brenda, had immediately pointed the finger at me, accusing me of murder. I’d pleaded with my husband, Mark, who’d supposedly just come home from the movies with me. He’d just pushed me away. “I was working overtime! How could I have been at the movies with you? You killed my dad and you won’t even admit it!” My son, Leo, had emerged from his bedroom, clutching a phone playing surveillance footage. “Bad mommy, why did you kill Grandpa!” Arthur, Mark’s older brother, had been in a rage. Without a word, he’d grabbed a fruit knife and stabbed my already severely burned body twenty-eight times, turning me into a bloody mess before I died. Even as I lay dying, I’d been bewildered. Why would my closest family – my husband and son – falsely accuse me of murder? Then I opened my eyes. I was back. Reborn on the very day Mr. Peterson was blown to smithereens.

“Alice, why don’t you head back and help Mom with dinner? I’ll grab some groceries and be right there.” Mark’s words, spoken with such casual ease, sent a shiver down my spine. It hit me then. I had been reborn. In my past life, Mark and I had just left the movies. He’d sent me home first, saying he’d pick up some cold dishes. But as soon as I walked in, I saw the kitchen explode. Mr. Peterson was flung across the room, lying motionless on the floor. Terrified, I’d rushed to save him, only to be caught in a second explosion, getting severely burned. Shaking with fear, I’d fumbled for my phone to call an ambulance. Brenda, my mother-in-law, had been hiding just outside the kitchen door, paralyzed with fear. When she saw me, her eyes lit up. “Alice, please, I didn’t mean to kill your father! The gas stove wouldn’t light, and the old man insisted on helping me…” Dragging my excruciatingly painful body, I’d crawled towards Mr. Peterson. He was already gone. All these years, Mr. Peterson had poured everything into Arthur’s family and ours. To die like this… it wasn’t just Brenda who couldn’t accept it. If Arthur Peterson found out, given his violent past and the fact he’d once served time for murder, he’d surely kill the culprit! Our neighbors rushed over, taking in the chaotic scene and joining the chorus of condemnation against me. I endured the searing pain and tried to explain that I had just returned from the movies with Mark, and that Brenda had caused the kitchen explosion, not me. But Mark had thrown the bag of groceries at me. “I went to buy cold dishes! When did I ever go to the movies with you, you murderer!?” Before I could retort, my own son, Leo, ran out of his bedroom, phone in hand, playing a surveillance video. “Bad mommy, why did you kill Grandpa and Grandma!” A child’s words are often seen as pure, but his accusation sealed my fate as a murderer. Arthur, who had just stormed in, heard him. He grabbed a fruit knife from the counter and, roaring, stabbed me twenty-eight times, punching through my heart. I stared at him in horror, unable to comprehend why my husband and son, my beloved family, would do this to me! The agonizing pain of being stabbed in my previous life was vividly present, and I couldn’t stop trembling. My fingers, entwined with Mark’s, unconsciously tightened. This time, I had to uncover the truth and prevent that tragedy from repeating itself! I glanced at the time. I had half an hour until the explosion. Everything was still possible. Mark released my hand. As he turned away, I saw him quickly send an “OK” emoji to Brenda. Suddenly, my hair stood on end. It felt like Death itself was looking at me. Mark, who had just celebrated our six-year anniversary yesterday, was now conspiring with Brenda to harm me. Why? I took a deep breath, pushing down the terror. “Honey, the beauty store next door just got a new line of lipsticks. Care to come with me to check them out?” He quickly hid his phone, a sweet, attentive smile instantly replacing his alert expression. “Mom’s waiting for you to help with dinner, remember? Just tell me the shades, and I’ll pick them up for you.” I shook my head, subtly avoiding his attempt to kiss me. “Oh, please. You always get the wrong shade. If you don’t want to go, I’ll just go by myself.” I really was a coward. Brenda and Leo were still at home. It would be two against one, and I knew I had no chance. Last time, Brenda and Leo had physically held me down while Arthur stabbed me to death. Chapter

Mark tried to say something else, but I just walked away, leaving him with my back. All the way, he kept trying to persuade me to go home, but I ignored him. Our six years together had already been shattered the moment he accused me of murder in my past life. Only after receiving a message from Caleb Hayes, my hacker friend from college, did I casually pay and leave. Mark hadn’t followed me, as expected. He’d stood there, making sure I’d called a cab for home, before calling Brenda. I saw it all clearly through the rearview mirror. In my previous life, he’d deliberately sent me home to coordinate with Brenda and frame me. This time, I was going to watch them play their game. When I arrived home, just like last time, the kitchen was already exploding. It was perfectly timed to my arrival. Brenda was hiding behind the door, safe from the blast. But poor Mr. Peterson, once again, lay amidst shattered glass. Seeing me, Brenda rushed forward, wailing as if I were her savior. “Alice, please! I didn’t mean to kill your father! The gas stove wouldn’t light, and the old man insisted on helping me… Please, save me…” I calmly pushed her away. “Mom, call the police and an ambulance. Don’t cling to me.” This time, I had no intention of saving Mr. Peterson. Brenda’s face was a mask of feigned panic, fearfully insisting it wasn’t intentional. In my previous life, she’d worn that same wronged expression, adamantly claiming I had deliberately caused the kitchen explosion, wailing hysterically for me to pay for her husband’s life. If I hadn’t seen her smug, triumphant smile, I might have actually believed she was grieving for Mr. Peterson. Neighbors, drawn by the commotion, arrived and started yelling at me, calling me an evil daughter-in-law. No one would ever believe a mother-in-law would kill her own husband. The bad one, in their eyes, was always me, the wicked daughter-in-law. While we waited for the ambulance, Arthur Peterson burst through the crowd, his eyes blazing with fury, as if he wanted to devour me whole. Arthur had been rebellious since he was young, serving decades in prison for murder. After his release, he never worked, living off Mr. and Mrs. Peterson. Now that Mr. Peterson was dead, it indirectly cut off his source of income. He was clearly frantic, roaring at me. “What happened to my dad? If anything happened to him, I’ll make you pay!” The terror of being stabbed to death in my previous life washed over me, making my legs weak. “He’s right there. If you block the way any longer, he might actually die.” Finally, medical personnel pushed through the crowd, quickly lifting Mr. Peterson onto a stretcher and rushing him into the ambulance. Brenda cried as if her heart had been ripped to shreds, clinging to Arthur, calling him her son. “My son, your sister-in-law is so cruel. All I asked was for her to cook, and she tried to kill both me and your dad! When I ran to save your dad, she grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the door.” Brenda lifted her bangs, revealing an instant lump on her forehead. My face was drained of color. Everyone looked at me as if I were a murderer. Chapter

Brenda’s acting, I had to admit, was flawless. As she shrieked, threatening to fight me, I quickly dodged her. I brutally kicked her in the chest, still shaken. “Mom, you blew up Dad. Why are you blaming it on me?” She immediately clutched her chest, wailing dramatically. All the neighbors angrily surrounded me. “You’re truly a wicked daughter-in-law! Playing the victim first. You must have killed him and are framing your mother-in-law!” My sudden attack caught Arthur off guard; he hadn’t reacted yet. Brenda, emboldened by the crowd, cried even louder: “You all saw it! She even accused me of blowing up the old man! Such a vicious heart!” I sneered. “Dare you say it wasn’t for the millions in my bank accounts, to pin a murder on me, and then scheme to take everything I owned?” The phrase “plotting to take everything I owned” hit everyone like a lightning bolt. Brenda’s eyes darted nervously before her gaze hardened. “Alice, you’re insane! Why would I blow up the old man for your petty cash!” “For my money, for my shares, for mountains of wealth and a life of luxury! Mark and I only went to the movies today. Isn’t framing me all about the money?” My unprecedented aggression made Brenda Peterson’s face fall. She wanted to say more, but someone grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back. “Enough!” It was Mark, who had rushed over. He shot a look at Brenda, then slapped me, hard. “Are you having another one of your episodes? When did I ever go to the movies with you?” I’d expected Mark wouldn’t side with me, but I hadn’t expected him to hit me in public. That slap shattered the last fragments of our six-year relationship. In my previous life, he’d also denied going to the movies with me in front of everyone, convinced I was the murderer. Back then, I’d been lost, unable to understand why. Today, seeing their family’s coordinated attack, I finally understood. “Mark, if you keep giving false testimony for Brenda Peterson, I won’t spare you either.” My voice was firm. “I’m telling you again, today, Mark Peterson, we went to the movies together. I am not a killer.” To my disappointment, Mark instinctively denied it. “No, I didn’t! What’s the point of lying? My son and I saw you walk into the kitchen ourselves.” He was set in his ways, determined to pin the blame on me. I wanted to speak, but the bedroom door opened. My son, Leo, ran out, his phone playing audio on speaker. “Bad mommy, you killed Grandpa! Bad people have to pay!” His young face held an overwhelming hatred. “Grandma, don’t be scared! Leo will protect you! The police will arrest bad mommy!” My own son spat at me. “Ptooey, ptooey! I don’t have a mom like you! Just go die!” My heart turned ice cold. This was the flesh and blood I had carried for ten months, almost bleeding out to bring into the world. I never imagined that the very child I bore would turn into a knife, aimed right at my heart. This home held no warmth for me. “Leo, I’m your mother. Why are you helping them?” My heart ached with bitterness as I stared at my son. But he just picked up a piece of broken glass from the floor and threw it at me. “Get lost! I don’t have a murderer for a mom!” I tilted my head, dodging the glass, but a cut appeared on my face. Leo then cranked up the volume on his phone, playing the surveillance footage louder. “Bad woman! This is the video of you deliberately detonating the kitchen! You’ve been lying all along!” Arthur heard it and instinctively rushed to snatch the phone. Leo, along with Mark and his mother, Brenda, adamantly pointed at me as the murderer. The neighbors cursed me even louder. I surveyed the scene with a desolate gaze, feeling utterly abandoned and hopeless. “Why? Why are you doing this to me?” Mark and Leo exchanged a knowing look and then rolled their eyes at me in unison. “Just hurry up and die! Don’t harm Grandma anymore! You’re an evil daughter-in-law and a bad mommy!” My heart was torn to shreds by my own son. Just then, Arthur, who had finished watching the video, picked up a scattered fruit knife and rushed over, grabbing me by the throat. The crushing despair of my dying moments from my previous life enveloped me. I knew too well the agony of being stabbed. In my blurring vision, I saw Brenda Peterson’s triumphant smile and the hidden satisfaction in Mark and Leo’s faces. Utter despair consumed me. Was I doomed to the same fate, even with a second chance? Just then, a squad of well-trained footsteps sounded, parting the crowd, and a furious voice bellowed. “Stop! Who gave you the right to kill him?!” Chapter

Suddenly, air rushed into my constricted throat, and I erupted into a fit of coughing. “Cough, cough, cough…” The police who arrived swiftly secured the scene. Caleb, my friend from college, stood by my side, assuring me not to be afraid, that he had all the evidence. Finally, I felt a sense of relief. In my previous life, I had died consumed by hatred, never receiving justice in my final moments. I had been stabbed into a bloody mess by Arthur, and no one had bothered to uncover the truth for me. My own closest relatives had banded together, united in their desire to see me dead. No mother could ever accept her own child falsely accusing her. And no wife could ever accept being betrayed by her husband. Fortunately, this time, I hadn’t been stabbed to death. Everything was still salvageable. The female officer had barely switched on her body camera when Mark eagerly pointed at me, his face a mask of grief. “Officer, I’m Alice’s husband, Mark Peterson. I’m officially reporting her for deliberate murder, for killing my dad!” Hearing this, all the police officers looked solemn. Before they could speak, Brenda, clutching Leo, chimed in. “That’s right, she’s an evil daughter-in-law! She killed the old man, and I’m definitely next! Officers, please arrest her and execute her!” I regained my composure, watching their synchronized performance with cold eyes. My closest husband and my own son were willing to falsely accuse me, desperate for me to die. Even Caleb, just a friend from college, couldn’t stand it. He spoke up for me. “You people are truly heartless animals! Alice marrying into your family was a charity case, and you’re still not grateful. I think *you’re* the murderers, trying to kill Alice and seize everything she owns!” To my surprise, my son, whom I’d loved for five years, blurted out, “Good, good if she died! I don’t want a bad mommy!” “Alright, regardless, justice will be served by the law. This is the first time I’ve seen a child disown their mother.” The police officers’ eyes showed suspicion, wondering what terrible things I must have done to be so utterly abandoned by my family. “She is, after all, the child’s mother and your wife. How did it come to this?” “Ptooey! Don’t even say she’s my grandson’s mother! She’s not worthy!” Brenda held Leo, her eyes fixed on me, filled with venomous hatred. “Officer, it’s true that you can’t judge a book by its cover. We’ve been repaying evil with good, tolerating her until now. Otherwise, letting her continue to harm innocent people would be a true menace!” Mark’s words were self-righteous; in his narrative, I was a heinous criminal. Arthur, standing beside him, was itching to tear me apart on the spot. The neighbors cursed me as an evil daughter-in-law, wholeheartedly supporting Mark, demanding that I pay with my life. “‘Repaying evil with good,’ huh? You’re so heartless, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” My heart was utterly frozen. “You ruthless? I think you should just surrender quietly; you might get a lighter sentence.” Brenda was triumphant, utterly confident that she could send me to prison. Ordinarily, Brenda had always verbally abused Mr. Peterson, treating him like useless baggage, constantly tormenting him mentally. Now that he was dead, with me taking the blame, the biggest beneficiaries were clearly her and Mark. I wouldn’t let her succeed. “You wouldn’t expect me to forgive you, would you? Absolutely not!” Mark immediately declared, afraid I’d try to drag him down with me. I scoffed. “In that case, I won’t hold back.” In front of everyone, I pulled something out of my bag, something that surprised Mark’s entire family. “Officer, I have evidence to prove who the real murderer is.” Chapter Seeing what I held in my hand, Mark instinctively lunged to snatch it. I sidestepped, mocking him, “What, suddenly scared now?” Brenda’s face also changed. Though she didn’t know what I was holding, she blindly trusted her son. “You bitch! What fake thing are you trying to trick people with?!”

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My daughter hired someone to kill me after her college entrance exams. Before I died, I asked her why. I’d dedicated myself to getting her into a top university, helped her smoothly inherit the family business, and cared for her more than her own mother ever did. Her gaze was venomous: “You’re just a home-wrecker who replaced my mom! I hated you constantly meddling in my life!” “I’ll only be happy when you’re dead.” Then I opened my eyes again. I was back on the first day of her senior year of high school. Gorging herself and getting fat? Fine by me! Refusing to study? Absolutely! Even skipping classes to hang out with a punk and getting pregnant early? Whatever she wanted! This life, all I wanted was to be an “indulgent” stepmom. “I’m still growing, and you give me *these* leafy greens to eat!” “Mrs. Jenkins, you really are the perfect nanny for that dead mistress—you just want to abuse me!” I woke up in a haze to Chloe Miller slamming the table and throwing a tantrum. To vent her anger, she grabbed a glass nearby and hurled it at me. The glass whizzed past me, shattering into pieces at my feet. I was fully awake now. Seeing my silence, Chloe thought I was an easy target. She stormed right up to me and snarled: “I’ll never accept you as my stepmom, so stop telling me what to do!” “I’m my dad’s only child! Once I inherit Miller Corp, I’m kicking your worthless ass out immediately!” It was then I realized I’d been reborn to the first day of Chloe’s senior year. It was also our very first meeting. And this arrogant, spoiled stepdaughter, Chloe Miller, was the very ungrateful viper who would later hire someone to murder me. I quickly forced a smile and gently soothed Chloe: “Chloe, don’t be angry, sweetie. Aunt Eleanor wasn’t thinking. Eating such light food late at night will definitely leave you hungry. You’re young, your metabolism is fast. It was silly of me to talk about weight control!” “Mrs. Jenkins, please order some fried chicken, cake, and milk tea right away.” She’d just thrown a fit, and I suddenly became submissive. Chloe thought I was scared of her, and looked at me with a mix of triumph and disdain: “Now you know not to be a busybody, huh?” “My mom said it’s all your fault, you home-wrecker, for seducing my dad and causing my parents’ divorce!” I didn’t argue. I continued to play the part of the bullied, meek wife. Because I knew perfectly well that if I explained even one more sentence—even if I revealed that Chloe’s biological mother divorced her dad because she cheated with a foreign millionaire—Chloe would twist the facts. She’d run to her dad, Robert Miller, and tell him I was bullying her, which would only sour my relationship with him. So, I simply said nothing. I let Chloe stuff her face with fried chicken and milk tea, grease dripping from her mouth. She wasn’t exactly obese, just a little chubby. But teenage girls, if they’re not careful, can blow up like a balloon overnight. In my previous life, I meticulously managed her diet. Controlling her weight while ensuring she ate enough and well. I spent a lot of time just researching recipes. This life? Let her do whatever she wanted. I glanced at the clock behind me. Chloe’s tantrum had dragged on until almost nine in the evening. Eating this kind of food now would be impossible to digest and would just turn into fat on her body. But I just smiled, pushing a small cake slathered in cream toward Chloe. “Chloe, try this. It’s so sweet!” Seeing my fawning attitude, Chloe snorted, clearly looking down on me: “I’m telling you, don’t think a few bites of food will buy me off.” “You’re incompetent, trying to make yourself look good to my dad by ‘educating’ me. And that high school success plan you gave me? I’m never going to follow it. Constantly meddling in everything I do, who do you think you are?!” I gave her an ingratiating smile and explained: “Chloe, please don’t be upset. Aunt Eleanor was wrong before.” “Now that I think about it, you’re the only child of the Miller family. You’ll inherit Miller Corp someday, you’ll have everything you could ever want. There really isn’t any need to study so hard and make yourself miserable!” Afraid Chloe wouldn’t believe me, I called and canceled all the arranged tutoring sessions right in front of her. Chloe looked even more triumphant, convinced she had this spineless stepmom wrapped around her finger. “That’s more like it.”

International high school let out early. Chloe was home by three in the afternoon. According to my plans in my previous life, she should have continued studying, preparing to apply to top universities abroad upon graduation. But now that I wasn’t controlling her, Chloe was going wild. She stayed up all night on her phone, watching TV, and playing video games. Far from being annoyed, I seized the chance to bring her snacks. Without exception, they were all high-fat, high-sugar—anything that would make her gain weight, I brought it. Chloe was happy. And I was content. At the dinner table, I no longer pursued balanced nutrition or maintaining her figure like before. Grilled meat, barbecue, burgers—junk food was on rotation. After just one month, Chloe had gained fifteen pounds. But that was secondary. On Friday evening, Chloe’s teacher called me directly: “Mrs. Miller, the results of our introductory test are in. Chloe received an F.” “You see… perhaps you should encourage her studies a bit more. At this rate, let alone going to university abroad, she might even struggle to pass her graduation exams.” I glanced at Chloe’s room. It was ten-thirty, and the sound of the TV was still blasting. I chuckled softly and replied: “Teacher, I’m Chloe’s stepmom. If I interfere too much with her studies, it might not be good. For Chloe’s sake, perhaps you could give her father a call. Some things are better coming from him than from me.” Of course, I wasn’t sincere. Chloe had been enjoying herself for so many days; it was time for Robert, her biological father, to deal with it. Sure enough, the day after receiving the teacher’s call, Robert, who was on a business trip, still rushed back. After all, Chloe was his only child, and he certainly had high hopes for her. At the dinner table, Robert’s face turned grim as he addressed Chloe: “What’s wrong with you?!” “I heard from your teacher that your entrance exam results were a disaster. When I came back, you were still watching TV. How old are you? This is the age to be focusing on your studies!” “And your figure—I’ve told you before to watch your weight. How could you be so careless!” Chloe was scolded until she burst into tears. Wiping her eyes, she blurted out everything in her emotional state: “Anyway, when you get old, Miller Corp will be mine sooner or later. What does it matter if I study or not? Even if I don’t study, I can still live a life of luxury.” “I knew you wouldn’t even let me eat, I should have just left with my mom!” Robert was so angry he slammed his fist on the table: “Chloe Miller, I’m doing this for your own good!” But a teenage Chloe couldn’t hear him: “Who needs you to be good to me!” She then turned and lashed out at me, standing by the stairs, shoving me to the ground and cursing: “Get out of my way, you bitch!” “It’s all your fault, you home-wrecker, seducing my dad! Why don’t you just die!” With that, Chloe stomped up to the second floor and retreated to her room. Robert looked at Chloe’s retreating back with disappointment. He quickly helped me up from the floor, saying apologetically: “Eleanor, I’m so sorry. Chloe’s temper is getting out of hand, you’ve been wronged.” “I heard from Mrs. Jenkins that while I was away, Chloe was really awful to you. She wouldn’t eat the meals you prepared, insisting on junk food. And she spoke to you so disrespectfully.” After hearing Robert’s words, I immediately put on a loving façade: “What are you saying? Chloe is young, it’s inevitable she’d have her moments. How could I hold it against her?” “It’s just… with her temper, I’m truly a little worried about entrusting Miller Corp to her later. You’ve worked your entire life; you shouldn’t have to worry about the company when you’re old.” My words seemed to strike a nerve with Robert. His heart stirred, and he slowly placed a hand on my stomach: “Eleanor, how about we don’t use protection tonight?” “Let’s have another child!”

Actually, it was my idea to use protection in the first place. Back then, I genuinely loved Chloe as my own child. I was afraid she’d feel resentful if I got pregnant, and I truly believed that with all my careful nurturing, Chloe would treat me well once she grew up and succeeded. I just never imagined that all my meddling and managing in my last life wouldn’t result in a grateful daughter. Instead, I raised an ungrateful viper. The moment she gained power, she hired someone to stab me to death. The agonizing pain of the blade piercing my flesh is still vividly etched in my memory. So this life, I absolutely wouldn’t give Chloe any chance to rise again. But if I had abruptly brought up the topic, I feared Robert might suspect me of having ulterior motives. So, I shrewdly used the teacher’s call to make Robert, in his disappointment, suggest it himself. It was a win-win. Miller Corp was busy with its IPO, so Robert, after just one night back, flew to Hong Kong for a business trip the next morning. Once again, it was just Chloe and me at home. But Chloe was still a Miller, after all. Before he left, Robert had taken action. He re-enrolled her in tutoring and enrichment classes, confiscated all her phones and computers, and even hired a yoga instructor to monitor Chloe’s diet and weight. Having grown accustomed to luxury, Chloe, who had enjoyed so much freedom, couldn’t endure such hardship. After her class, when she saw the salad the yoga instructor had prepared for dinner, She was so furious she almost threw the plate at the instructor’s face. Thankfully, I intervened, quickly ushering the yoga instructor out. Seeing a fuming Chloe, I gently persuaded her: “Chloe, don’t be angry. If you don’t like these classes, we won’t take them.” “I know you didn’t eat enough. I secretly ordered your favorite fried chicken and milk tea for you in your room. You’re still growing, how can you not eat enough?” Chloe looked at me suspiciously: “You’d be that kind?” It made me inwardly sneer. Last life, I painstakingly nurtured her to success and was called a busybody. This life, I intentionally harmed her, and she called me kind. What a fool, she couldn’t tell good from bad. Chloe went back to her room and saw that I had indeed kept my word. She sat down and ate non-stop. While she was in a better mood, I flatteringly handed her a card from my pocket: “This internet cafe card was a gift from a friend, I don’t need it. But I saw the address, it seems to be near your school. High school can be really stressful, so if you have time, you can go and relax.” Chloe’s eyes lit up, and she snatched it immediately. If she couldn’t play on the computer at home, couldn’t she go out and play? After a quick meal, Chloe pocketed the internet card and said she was going for a walk. Did I not understand her intentions? If she wanted to ruin herself, I was more than willing to push her along. “Here’s some money. Your dad cut off your allowance recently. But a girl needs some cash on her, right? Be careful, and call me if anything happens.” Chloe excitedly left the house. I instructed the staff to keep an eye on her. Don’t worry about where she goes or what she does, just make sure she’s alive. Otherwise, I, the stepmom, would be deemed negligent. As soon as Chloe stepped out, she used the money I gave her to buy another phone. Then she immediately went to the internet cafe. The place was full of all sorts of people, often including spoiled rich kids from the international high school who skipped class and pulled all-nighters. Seeing Chloe, some of them, who recognized her, approached her to chat. A group of them teamed up to play games. It wasn’t until past eleven that I, feigning motherly concern, called to urge her home. “Chloe, it’s very late. You should be back by now after your walk.” “Do you want me to drive and pick you up?” She was in the middle of her game, naturally in no mood for me, her meddling stepmom: “Why do you care so much! You’re just a stepmom, just focus on pleasing your man. Don’t bring your desperate act to me. Stay out of my business from now on. Just keep giving me money.” “Otherwise, I’ll tell Dad bad things about you!” “Let’s see if he’ll protect you, an outsider, or me, his own daughter!” Beep-beep-beep. Chloe hung up quickly. I conveniently saved the phone recording. After all, faced with the threats of a difficult stepdaughter, a weak and kind stepmom like me could only obey. Most importantly, I was pregnant. The Miller family now had a second heir.

To prevent Chloe from causing trouble, I kept my pregnancy a secret from everyone. And for the rest, I didn’t need to be involved anymore. Birds of a feather flock together. Chloe quickly learned to skip class without a trace after meeting those trust fund babies at the internet cafe. The international high school used a university-style lecture system, meaning students moved to different classrooms for each subject, and attendance was taken via roll call. The foreign professors teaching there barely recognized anyone. If you were studious, you were an elite. If you slacked off, you were trash. The spoiled rich kids taught her, and Chloe quickly learned to pay others to answer for her during roll call. She, meanwhile, spent her days indulging in lavish meals, drinks, and games, frequenting internet cafes, bars, and even nightclubs. The teachers, seeing nothing amiss in her attendance records, assumed Chloe had buckled down after her father’s reprimand. A few days later, Chloe started coming home later and later. As a spineless stepmom, I could only feign concern and offer a few words of advice: “Chloe, don’t stay out too late. You should come home early and study. Even if the pressure for overseas university applications is low, you still need a good English foundation.” Chloe saw that I was completely subservient to her. Her attitude grew even more brazen. She pointed at me and started cursing: “What the hell do you care?! Who do you think you are, a stepmom?!” “I’m out of money, give me some allowance.” Seeing me hesitantly holding my wallet, Chloe snatched it directly, stuffing the cash into her pocket. “This is all Dad’s money, Miller family money.” “It’s rightfully mine, what are you, an outsider, trying to protect it for?!” In short, she cursed at me, and I endured it. She wanted something, and I gave it to her. I maintained the facade of a good stepmom, so much so that even the villa staff felt sorry for me. I had initially thought I’d have to endure this for a year to completely ruin Chloe. Until this morning, when Mrs. Jenkins quietly told me. While cleaning Chloe’s room, she accidentally knocked over her trash can, and inside was a used pregnancy test. Two lines. Chloe was pregnant too. Perhaps due to the pregnancy, Chloe was unusually quiet today, returning home by 5:30 PM. I smiled and greeted her, but she ignored me, hurrying upstairs with her head down. I had planned to cut some fruit and bring it up to her. But then I heard Chloe in her room, speaking in a hushed voice on the phone: “It’s definitely positive. I saw a doctor this afternoon.” “Give birth? No way! If Dad finds out, he’ll kill me! This baby has to go!” “I’m already eighteen, I don’t need a guardian for an abortion. You’re the father, you’ll come with me!” “This Saturday morning, 9:30 AM, at St. Jude’s Hospital.” I tiptoed away. Back in my bedroom, I eagerly called Robert: “Honey, I think I’m pregnant. Can you come back and accompany me for a prenatal check-up?” “I’ve already booked the appointment.” “This Saturday morning, 9:00 AM, at St. Jude’s Hospital.” Hearing this, Robert on the other end of the phone was ecstatic. He readily agreed. Even with his busy work schedule, he promised to go straight from the airport to the hospital to be with me. I was very happy too. After all, a joyous event like becoming a grandfather should be personally discovered by Robert. On Saturday morning at nine, a travel-worn Robert arrived precisely on time. After a series of checks, he was beaming, holding my ultrasound results. Suddenly, I nervously tugged on his sleeve, pointing forward: “Honey, look!” “Isn’t that Chloe? Why is she at the hospital at this hour?” Robert looked in the direction I was pointing. Indeed, he saw Chloe sitting in the hospital corridor, looking around, as if waiting for someone. He instinctively wanted to go up and ask. But I held him back. “Wait, if you just go up to her suddenly like that, she’s a teenage girl, what if it’s something private, a gynecological issue? Wouldn’t it be embarrassing for her to tell you face-to-face?” “Let’s observe for a bit and see what’s happening.” I pulled Robert to sit a short distance away. After a few minutes, a boy with dyed blonde hair entered our view, walking straight towards Chloe. Without a word, he grabbed Chloe’s hand. At that moment, Robert’s face beside me turned as dark as storm clouds, looking like it could drip ink. He couldn’t even bother to speak to me. He stood up and walked quickly towards them. Chloe, completely oblivious, was still complaining to the blonde-haired punk: “Why are you so late!” “Mrs. Jenkins said Dad might be back today.” “If he finds out I secretly came to the hospital for an abortion, everything will be ruined!” Before the boy could respond, Robert’s furious roar suddenly erupted behind her, echoing through the entire corridor. “Chloe Miller!” “You’re… carrying some bastard child?!” The moment Chloe heard that voice, her entire body stiffened. The blood in her veins seemed to instantly freeze. She didn’t dare to turn around, instinctively wanting to run. But Robert, in his fury, grabbed her shoulder tightly and spun her around:

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My sister called, battered and bruised, begging for help. Protecting her, I accidentally killed her husband. But in court, she refused to testify for me. She blamed me for taking Leo’s father away. Mom and Dad joined in, accusing me of ruining Brooke’s life. I was convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to ten years in prison. They tormented me day and night, until I died of depression behind bars. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the moment Brooke called for help… “Cassidy, save me!” Brooke’s heartbroken scream tore through the phone, a wild, beast-like roar echoing behind her. “I’ll kill you! I’ll absolutely kill you!” Julian’s enraged voice mixed with Brooke’s pleas, followed by a series of brutal thuds against a door. One, two… I froze. This scene, I’d lived through it before! And it was just six months before I died. I took a deep breath, my mind reeling back to that night. Six months ago, Julian had come home dead drunk. Brooke had simply asked where he’d been, and he’d grabbed her, slapping her a dozen times. She’d cried, begging for mercy, but he wouldn’t let up. He’d sworn she dared to meddle in his business and that he was going to kill her that night. She’d shrieked, fleeing into the bathroom, locking herself inside, and risking everything to call me, her voice trembling. When I’d arrived, I was greeted by a scene from hell, unlike anything I’d ever witnessed: Julian stood amidst shattered glass and broken things, a cleaver raised in his hand, furiously hacking at the bathroom door. One, two… His eyes were bloodshot, like a wild animal’s, roaring that he’d smash the door down and hack Brooke to death. Brooke’s cries, Julian’s roars, the brutal thuds of the cleaver against the door, the hissing, spitting sound of something boiling over on the stove… All sounds mashed together, instantly igniting something primal in me. No! He couldn’t kill my sister! My first instinct was to charge, to wrench the knife from his grasp. I didn’t even stop to consider if I’d become another casualty in his rampage. I’d never felt death so close. I stared into those bloodshot eyes, the eyes of a grim reaper. He held the knife in an iron grip, and I desperately clung to his wrist, fighting to stop him from bringing it down. Blood began to drip, drop by agonizing drop. My strength was draining away, little by little. And my *dear* sister? She stayed locked behind that bathroom door, utterly still. I don’t remember what happened next. When I regained consciousness, Julian was lying in a pool of blood, and Brooke was crying, shaking him. Then, the piercing wail of ambulances and the blare of police sirens filled the air. One phrase echoed relentlessly in my mind: “It was her! *She* did it! She killed my husband! Arrest this murderer!” Just then, Brooke wailed again: “Cassidy, hurry, save me! He’s gone crazy!” Cassidy? She still knew my name. But when she’d been ‘grieving’ her precious husband, she hadn’t called me that. She’d not only screamed “murderer” at the police, demanding I pay for murder with my life. She’d also adamantly refused to testify for me in court. Her reasoning? She argued that the charge wasn’t severe enough. Manslaughter? No, she insisted it should be premeditated murder. Because if it was only manslaughter, the chance of me getting the death penalty would be far too low. Even after I was sentenced to ten years, she’d visited me in prison, staring at me coldly, asking how I dared to still be alive. “You monster! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You made me a widow! You took Leo’s father away! How dare you only get ten years? Is this what our tax dollars are for? To keep *you* alive? You’re depressed? Will your depression bring my husband back? What will you give to atone for this? You murderer! Murderer!” I’d heard those words countless times in prison. “Cassidy, why aren’t you saying anything? Cassidy?” I took a deep breath. From start to finish, she was only desperate for me to rescue *her*. But she’d never once considered if *I* might be killed by him. Nor had she ever suggested I call the police to arrest her husband. She just wanted me to ‘make peace,’ so she could reconcile with Julian, *after* he’d had his fill of hitting her, and go back to her ‘happy’ life. How could I have been so blind to such selfish thoughts in my previous life? But this time, I wouldn’t interfere with her “happiness” ever again.

I held my phone, my voice flat, almost devoid of emotion. “I’m busy right now, I can’t make it back. You’ve always had a choice. If you don’t want a divorce but you want to *live*, then figure it out on your own. And by the way, if you encounter a murderer, call the police. Calling me won’t do anything.” With that, I hung up. I knew she must be utterly stunned. From childhood, I had always indulged her, never letting her suffer even the slightest slight. In school, she was the enviable goody-two-shoes, while I was the tough-as-nails girl everyone feared. Whenever she was bullied by the queen bees, I would step out and challenge them to square off against me. “Cassidy, you saved me! You’re the best sister ever!” Each time, she’d look at me with tear-filled eyes. But who knew? Turns out, a ‘good sister’ was easily disposable when a ‘good husband’ was on the line. The most ironic part was, when I was in prison, one of my cellmates was one of those very queen bees from back then. When she heard the full story, she was furious on my behalf: “Seriously, is Brooke out of her mind? Giving up her own sister for *that* kind of man? You did so much for her back then, and this is what you get? It’s not worth it, Cassidy.” No, of course it wasn’t worth it. Lost in thought, I walked back home. The moment I opened the door, I was hit by a full-blown verbal assault from Mom and Dad. “You ungrateful girl! Where the hell have you been? Do you have any idea your sister almost *died* just now?” I thought they were mad at me for being indifferent, but their next words nearly made my jaw drop: “And you had the nerve to tell your sister to call the police? Are you insane?” “If the police take Julian away, how do you expect to make it up to Brooke and her family?” “Doesn’t Leo need his father? Doesn’t Brooke need her husband? Are you just jealous that your sister has a family?” They went on and on, their faces red with fury, all condemning me for speaking without thinking, for trying to break up the family. It was laughable. They’re retired educators, for crying out loud, yet their minds are still so stubbornly stuck in the past. Why hadn’t I noticed their bizarre behavior in my previous life? Back then, after I was jailed, the old couple would visit me every visiting day, just to scream at me. They accused me of ruining Brooke’s home, of destroying their precious Leo. Eventually, I refused to see them anymore. But their emotional abuse, it was relentless. It seeped into every corner of my mind. I couldn’t understand why, after I had protected them and accidentally killed that piece of trash, they still considered *him* the source of their happiness. And me? The killer who destroyed it all? I didn’t get it. I tossed and turned every night, consumed by sorrow. Even Raven kept telling me it was my family who had problems, not me, but I couldn’t accept that the family I’d protected and loved with all my might for a lifetime would collectively turn on me so cruelly. In the end, I had a mental breakdown and bit off my tongue, dying by suicide. No one came to see me, even at the very end. Since you care so much about that man, and so highly value the ‘integrity’ of the family, Then this life, I’ll grant your wish. I sneered. “I didn’t tell her to call the police. I just said if she’s in danger, she should know to call them. What’s wrong with that? Besides, she still had enough strength to complain to you, so she’s clearly fine, isn’t she? Why are you two so worked up about it now?” “Fine?” My dad’s temper flared again. “She’s only ‘fine’ because *we* went and knelt before him! You child, how can you be so cold-blooded and selfish!” “Alright, alright, Leo’s asleep, everyone quiet down.” Just then, Brooke’s bedroom door opened, and she walked out, dark circles under her swollen eyes. Her face was still bruised and puffy; she’d clearly taken a beating. The moment Leo’s name was mentioned, my parents instantly fell silent, as if their grandchild was royalty in this house. Ridiculous. I rolled my eyes. I’m not trying to be dark, but that kid of Brooke’s? Mark my words, he’s going to end up in serious trouble, probably get himself killed.

Leo was the most annoying kid I’d ever met. If Mom and Dad hadn’t brought Brooke and him to my place without my permission this time, I would never have allowed that little brat to set foot in my house. He inherited all of Julian’s worst habits, and with my parents’ endless spoiling, he was utterly lawless. The most malicious incident happened at a wedding, where he deliberately ran into a pregnant woman’s stomach, just because he thought it would be ‘fun’ to see if her belly would flatten. He was already in second grade; he knew exactly what a flattened belly meant. Yet this little monster was treated like gold by the whole family. Brooke refused to divorce, partly because she was hopelessly in love, but also because she couldn’t bear to lose her son. She was the quintessential doting wife and ‘boy-mom,’ it had to be said. But people like her never feel like *they* are suffering; only those around her, like me, suffer. In my last life, I’d urged her to let go, to abandon both father and son. Instead, I got a three-on-one tongue-lashing from her and my parents. Sure enough, his arrival this time meant more trouble for me. That night, everyone was asleep, but I faintly heard some rustling in the living room. I opened my door to find that little monster using a utility knife to scratch something on the windowsill. Sleepy-eyed, I flipped on the light, and the sight before me instantly made my scalp crawl. On the windowsill, my four pet guinea pigs were splayed open, gutted, lying in a row, blood pooled all over the floor. “Ah!!!” I shut my eyes and let out the most piercing scream of my life. The sound seemed to hit some twisted pleasure center in his brain; Leo immediately burst into maniacal laughter. “What are you doing?! Why did you kill the guinea pigs?!” I erupted, fear, rage, and grief clenching my heart. I didn’t even know if I was speaking to a person or a demon. “It was fun.” He said, then picked one up and started walking towards me, as if trying to provoke me further. “Get away!” I shrieked, backing away. I was terrified of him, and I dared not scold him, because I truly didn’t know what he was capable of.

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My wife had been on a business trip for two days. I was cleaning up, and I casually told our smart speaker, “Aura, play some music.” Instead, a male voice, completely unfamiliar, replied. “Alright, my little Moonbeam. And a reminder for Camilla, don’t forget Leo’s birthday surprise tonight~” My entire body froze, the music instantly jarring. My wife’s name is Camilla. Who the hell is Leo? I immediately called my wife. “Did you do something with our smart speaker?” On the other end, her voice paused for a beat, then she laughed, nonchalantly. “Oh, a friend came over a few days ago, maybe they linked their account? Why?” I smiled and said it was nothing. After hanging up, I pulled up the speaker’s login history, then hailed a cab directly to the company listed under that unfamiliar account. The taxi pulled up in front of “Starry Design.” I looked up. Its glass facade shimmered, almost blinding in the sunlight, reflecting its aggressive rise in the industry over the past two years. Our main rival, Dream Weaver Design. The receptionist was highly professional. She didn’t bat an eye despite me being the owner of a rival company, simply making an internal call as a matter of routine. A few minutes later, a young man in a crisp white t-shirt hurried out, looking utterly clean and innocent. Leo Hayes. The moment he saw me, his eyes visibly flickered with panic, but he quickly composed himself, forcing a shy smile. “Hello, may I help you?” “The smart speaker,” I said, getting straight to the point, my gaze calm as I looked at him. “The login history shows your account.” “Oh, *that* speaker!” He feigned realization, then scratched his head awkwardly. “That’s my roommate’s. She used my phone to log in a few days ago, said her premium membership expired and wanted to use mine. Did it cause you any trouble? I’m so sorry!” He delivered his lines perfectly, deflecting any suspicion while appearing completely innocent and naive. If I didn’t know Camilla’s personality, I might have actually believed him. She was arrogant and fiercely private; there was no way she’d let some random intern use a personal account on our home devices. My gaze slowly shifted from his seemingly innocent face to his wrist. On it was a silver bracelet. Two irregular circles intertwined, and on one of them, a tiny letter ‘C’ was engraved. It was a gift I’d designed myself and had a craftsman friend make for Camilla last year for our wedding anniversary. ‘C’ for Camilla. There was only one in the world. Leo noticed my gaze and instinctively tried to hide his hand behind his back. But I smiled, stepping closer, my voice almost gentle. “That bracelet is quite unique. A gift from your girlfriend? She has excellent taste.” His face went ghost-white in an instant, his lips trembling, utterly speechless. That was enough. I didn’t look at him again, turning to leave. As soon as I was in the cab, I called my friend Marcus Bell, the best divorce lawyer in the business. The moment he picked up, his loud voice boomed through. “Well, well, Julian, to what do I owe the pleasure? Did hell freeze over?” “I need your help,” I said, watching the streetlights blur outside the window, my voice unnaturally calm. “I need you to dig into someone: Leo Hayes, an intern at Starry Design. And I want every single financial transaction and hotel booking record for Camilla from the last six months. Don’t miss a thing.” Marcus was silent for two seconds, then dropped his joking tone. “…Are you planning to burn her to the ground?” “Worse than that.” I hung up, the car falling into a dead silence. Not long after, Camilla’s call came through. I stared at the name “Wife” on the screen, feeling an immense irony, and took a deep breath before answering. “Julian, what’s wrong?” Her usual gentle, refined voice came through the phone, laced with just the right amount of concern. “Marcus mentioned you asked him to dig into something. Are you having trouble at work?” See? She’d already planted her little spy. I pushed down the swirling emotions and said in my most normal voice, “Nothing. I just suddenly missed you.” On the other end, she seemed to relax, then chuckled softly. “Silly goose, I miss you too. As soon as I finish this project, I’ll fly right back to be with you, my little Moonbeam.” Those three words, “little Moonbeam,” drilled into my ear, crystal clear. My grip on the phone tightened abruptly. So, I wasn’t her only Moonbeam. Or maybe, I’d never been.

Marcus was alarmingly efficient. Barely half an hour later, my phone vibrated. A link, accompanied by a message: “Your award-winning master manipulator, brought to you by yours truly. The evidence is so airtight, I almost feel bad charging you full price. Enjoy the show.” I clicked it open. It was Leo’s social media account, set to public. The latest post was a close-up of a wrist, adorned with that all-too-familiar ‘C’ bracelet. The caption read: “My Moonbeam comes for you, Ms. C.” My pet name, “little Moonbeam,” my ‘C’ bracelet—now both trophies for another man. I scrolled down expressionlessly. One photo showed our home library in the background. Leo was holding his face, smiling with a faux innocence, behind him the rare architecture books I’d brought back from Italy. The caption: “Soaking up wisdom in Ms. C’s study. Feeling myself getting smarter already!” Another photo, he was holding a fountain pen, sketching on a drawing. It was a limited-edition collaboration piece I’d given Camilla for her thirtieth birthday. Caption: “Ms. C’s pen is amazing to write with. She said my hands deserve the best.” And one more, at that private restaurant we always frequented, featuring my go-to dishes. Caption: “My secret hideaway with Ms. C. She says I’m the only one who truly makes her relax.” Every photo, every word, was like a precise scalpel, carving into my most vulnerable memories, one incision at a time. Until I scrolled to a post from three days ago. In the photo, Leo was holding a printed design draft, a look of triumph on his face. The caption: “Ms. C stayed up all night helping me refine this design. She said I’m the most inspired designer she’s ever met, and I’ll definitely win the ‘Skyline Center’ project. Go me!” “Skyline Center.” That was the project Dream Weaver had poured our hearts and souls into, preparing for a full six months. It was the most crucial milestone of my career. I shot up from the couch, grabbed my car keys, and stormed out of the house. The office was empty late at night. I unlocked the door with my fingerprint and headed straight to Camilla’s office. Her computer screen saver was still on: our wedding photo. She was smiling, so tender and fond. I felt a wave of nausea. I tapped the keyboard, the screen lit up, showing a password prompt. I tried my birthday—incorrect. Our wedding anniversary—still incorrect. I gave a bitter laugh and typed in Leo’s birthday. “Welcome.” The desktop was clean and tidy, and my eyes immediately landed on an encrypted folder. I clicked it open. Inside was the final proposal for “Skyline Center,” every detail a culmination of months of my team’s and my own hard work. And right beside it, glaringly obvious, lay another folder, named with a single letter – ‘L’. I opened it. The proposal inside was almost identical to ours, only with subtle adjustments to a few critical load-bearing structures and design highlights, cleverly sidestepping our core patents while retaining the essence of the design. The signature at the bottom was in two neat characters: Leo. Not only was she cheating, but she was stealing my hard work, my company’s future, to pave a golden path for her little toyboy. My stomach violently churned. I gripped the cold desk, barely keeping myself from collapsing. So, jealousy and betrayal could truly warp a woman into something unrecognizable.

The bidding conference for the “Skyline Center” project was packed and buzzing. I found an inconspicuous corner and sat down, watching the representative from Starry Design walk onto the stage. It was Leo. Today, he wore a tailored professional suit, looking more like a seasoned executive. He took a deep breath and began to explain his design concept. “My design inspiration comes from ‘The Eye of the City.’ We hope it won’t just be a cold structure, but a living entity that breathes with the city, witnessing its growth…” Every single word of that speech, I had spoken to Camilla countless nights, fueled by coffee, my eyes bloodshot from exhaustion. I once thought that was the most perfect soul connection between us. Now I knew it was just my own solo performance, and she, the most patient thief. Even more ironic, Camilla was sitting in the special guest section of the judging panel. She listened intently, nodding occasionally, her gaze on Leo filled with a brilliance I’d never seen before, a possessive pride that regarded him as a treasure she couldn’t wait to flaunt to the world. She completely ignored me in the corner, as if I were nothing more than an irrelevant backdrop. My phone vibrated in my palm. It was a message from Marcus. “Need me to show up with a baseball bat and crash the party?” I looked at the screen, a slight curve forming on my tightly drawn lips. I texted back two words: “Stand by.” On stage, Leo’s presentation reached its climax, the final rendering—the very one stolen from my computer—displayed on the projector. A low gasp rippled through the audience. The presentation ended, and applause thundered. The host stepped onto the stage. “Thank you, Mr. Hayes, for your brilliant presentation. Next, we invite our special guest judge, a highly respected veteran in our industry, Ms. Camilla Thorne from Dream Weaver Design, to offer her comments on this proposal.” The microphone was handed to Camilla. She cleared her throat, her gaze gently resting on Leo as she began. “Frankly, I’m genuinely surprised.” “Mr. Hayes’s design perfectly balances artistic aesthetics with practical function, especially the subtle adjustments to several critical load-bearing structures. It’s incredibly bold, incredibly inspired.” She used the word “inspired.” The same word she used to describe Leo, to wound me. She paused, her gaze sweeping across the room. “I believe this work is, without a doubt, the best of today.” Applause erupted again, louder than before. In that moment, my world went silent, save for the dull thudding of my heart in my chest. The host smiled, taking the microphone. “Thank you, Ms. Thorne, for your high praise! It seems Starry Design is poised for victory this time! Now, are there any other guests or judges who would like to ask Mr. Hayes a question?” The room fell silent. With Camilla’s “expert” seal of approval, there seemed to be nothing left to ask. Leo bowed on stage, his face alight with barely concealed triumph and joy. I put my phone away and, in the brief lull before everyone prepared to applaud again, stood up. My movement was slight, but it instantly drew everyone’s attention. The host blinked, a little flustered. “Sir, may I ask who you are?” Camilla’s smile froze.

Leo’s gaze, too, became wary and scrutinizing. I ignored the host, walking directly to the podium. The host on stage looked flustered, instinctively trying to block me, but one look from me made her retract her hand. I took the microphone from her hand. The cold metal against my palm only sharpened my focus. “Good afternoon, everyone.” My voice, amplified by the sound system, filled the hall, clear and steady. “I am Julian Thorne, founder of Dream Weaver Design.” A small murmur rippled through the audience; my colleagues all recognized me. I paused, my gaze sweeping over everyone, then landed precisely on the woman in the judging panel whose face had already begun to pale. I added the latter half of my sentence. “And also, Ms. Camilla Thorne’s husband.” *Boom!* The entire hall erupted in chaos. Countless eyes darted between Camilla and me, scrutinizing, shocked, gossiping. It was like thousands of tiny needles, puncturing the carefully maintained facade of her composure. I ignored the whispers, turning to plug the USB drive I’d brought into the computer. On the large screen behind me, Leo’s exquisite final rendering instantly vanished, replaced by the raw files from my own computer. Folder after folder, neatly organized by date. “Mr. Hayes’s proposal is indeed very ‘inspired’,” I said, a faint smile in my voice, as I clicked open the earliest folder. Inside were my first sketches, drawn on a digital tablet three months ago—rough, but brimming with my original concepts. “And it’s almost identical to my drafts from three months ago.” On the screen, I opened the file properties: creation date, modification date, timestamps accurate to the second, all displayed clearly on the large screen for everyone to see. Leo’s face went white. I continued clicking, opening one detailed drawing after another, structural analysis diagrams, 3D renderings… With each one I opened, Leo’s face grew whiter. Finally, I revealed a hidden layer. It was an anti-counterfeiting watermark I’d deliberately embedded to prevent commercial leaks—my initials, “JT,” cleverly integrated into the building’s shadows. “As for the core load-bearing structure in Mr. Hayes’s proposal, so highly praised by Director Thorne,” I brought up a mechanical model filled with dense data and formulas. “Here is the complete data calculation process. I wonder if Mr. Hayes could explain the application principle of the fifth parameter to everyone?” All eyes in the room instantly shot to Leo. He stood there, his lips trembling, utterly speechless. He understood none of it. Then, with a sudden wail, he burst into tears, rushing towards the judging panel and grabbing Camilla’s sleeve, sobbing. “Camilla, I didn’t… I don’t know what this is about! He’s bullying me, I didn’t plagiarize…” Camilla finally couldn’t sit still. She quickly stormed onto the stage, glaring fiercely at me, her voice low, a furious whisper only we could hear. “Julian Thorne! Haven’t you made enough of a scene?! Must you humiliate us both here?!” I found myself chuckling. “Humiliate?” I scoffed softly, removing her hand that was pointing at me. I took a step closer, leaning into her ear, speaking in a voice only she could hear. “Camilla, don’t rush. This is just an appetizer.” I stepped back, gripping the microphone again, my gaze sweeping over all the judges and guests. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear enough for the entire hall to hear. “The real humiliation isn’t mine. It belongs to certain people who, while stealing their husband’s hard work, also try to elevate their lover, praising a plagiarized work as a stroke of genius, right in front of the entire industry.” “Director Thorne,” I looked at her, smiling sweetly. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

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When Adrian proposed to me, everyone said it was a blessing I’d earned in a past life. But five years of his cold indifference eventually wore down every ounce of my love and passion. His first love, Serena, returned with amnesia. He was so worried about her, spending his days watching the snow and the moon with her, reliving their sweet past. Meanwhile, I was relentlessly trashed online, forced to abandon the acting career I loved. I threw a divorce agreement at him, then turned my back and left the country with my childhood best friend for a show. Who would’ve thought that the usually aloof Adrian would lose his composure, chasing after me, his eyes red, begging me to come back? When the video of Adrian saving Serena went viral, I was in the makeup room, waiting for the next scene of my TV show. In the video, Serena was clinging to Adrian, tears streaming down her face, a picture of pure misery. The comments were full of heart emojis and sympathy. “Seriously, I can’t watch this.” “After losing her memory, she finds out her beloved is already married to someone else. They’re still in love but can’t be together. Ugh, it’s literally killing me!” “If it weren’t for that witch, Skylar, would those two soulmates have been torn apart?” “Look at Mr. Adrian’s heartbroken expression, my eyes are watering like crazy, boo hoo.” “Damn! Someone needs to send this video to Skylar!” “All I can say is, true love doesn’t lie. Skylar just doesn’t get that.” Ms. Davies, my agent, stood beside me, anxious. “Why did this topic have to trend now? You finally got this supporting role based on your talent, and if it gets canceled again because of all this, no one will dare to hire you anymore…” “What if…” She stood up, frantic. “You go talk to Adrian and ask him to take these trending topics down?” I shook my head, my voice calm. “It’s no use. He won’t do anything.” Ms. Davies listened, silent for a moment, then slumped back down. She knew it, too. Adrian wouldn’t lift a finger for me. After all, there had been worse words, more vicious attacks in the past, and he never once intervened. Back then, I cherished my acting career fiercely. Those hateful words would keep me up at night, making me miserable, almost pushing me into depression. I used to hold onto foolish hope, expecting him to speak up for me, even just a single word. But what did he say? “Trending topics only last a few days. We should just live our own lives, why bother with what others say?” “I can’t use company resources for personal matters.” “Skylar, you’re an actress. Don’t be so dramatic.”

I waited another half hour in the makeup room. The director’s team arrived late, full of apologies. “Sorry, Ms. Skylar. We had some equipment issues today. How about you head home for now? We’ll let you know when we reschedule the shoot.” I nodded. “Okay.” The online trending topic had turned a deep purple, signifying peak virality. The more people pitied Serena, the more they hated me. Having been through this too many times, Ms. Davies knew exactly what it meant. This show would likely be canceled. Ms. Davies’ eyes turned red with anger. She scrolled through her phone. “How can people be so blind to the truth? You only got together with him after they broke up! Why have you had to bear all this hate for years? I refuse to believe there isn’t a single sane person online… Huh?” She stared blankly at her phone. “A major influencer just spoke up for you!” I leaned over to look. Indeed, a verified account had posted. His name was “Leo,” and his public persona was known for speaking out against injustice. “Mr. Adrian got together with Skylar *after* he broke up with Serena, right? Given Mr. Adrian’s family background, no one could force him to marry if he didn’t want to.” “Now they’ve been married for five years. Serena just has amnesia, she’s not brain-damaged. Anyone with an ounce of common sense and decency would know to keep their distance from an ex who’s married.” “In my opinion, Serena is the real homewrecker.” Leo had a lot of influence. He’d supported me more than once before, and he had a significant following. Instantly, the internet exploded into a heated debate. Ms. Davies was thrilled. “Thanks to Leo’s post, a lot of people are supporting you online now. If this keeps up… Oh, Adrian’s company just posted an official statement on Ins! Could it be Adrian himself? This is great, this is how it should be! How could he just let his own wife be trashed like this? If he speaks up for you, it’ll be better than anything…” Before she could finish her sentence, her expression froze, and the joy on her face vanished. I opened my phone. Adrian’s company had indeed posted, but not in my defense. “Ms. Serena was never the other woman. Any further false statements will be pursued legally by Adrian’s company.”

The company’s statement was a huge boost of confidence for those shipping Adrian and Serena. It silenced my supporters. Ms. Davies was disappointed but still tried to comfort me. “It’s okay,” I said, shaking my head calmly. “I knew this would be the outcome the moment Serena returned. Besides, even if she hadn’t come back, I was already planning to divorce Adrian.” Ms. Davies’ mouth dropped open in shock. “What did you say?” I knew why she was surprised. After all, I’d endured much worse online attacks in the past and never mentioned divorce. That was because back then, I still held onto hope for this marriage. The old me always thought I wasn’t doing enough. He called me dramatic, so I stopped being dramatic and made myself strong. He said I should let my talent speak for itself, so I worked hard to hone my acting skills. But countless facts over these five years had woken me up. The one who needed to change was never me. Hope had gradually turned into disappointment, and now, even the disappointment had completely faded. Of course, I should also thank Adrian. I truly wasn’t “dramatic” anymore. Even I, who used to tear up easily as a child, now felt completely unfazed by the most venomous insults.

This twisted fate of ours, between Adrian and me, began five years ago. Five years ago, my Grandpa Leo fell ill, and Adrian’s company’s medical technology introduction program saved his life. Later, as a patient’s family member, I met Adrian. I had just graduated from film school and was still a newbie. Serena was a senior from my school, having acted in a few shows that never quite hit it big, but she was a frequent topic on Ins. Some called her the “fallen heiress.” Although her mother wasn’t the legitimate wife of a big CEO, her rumored boyfriend was the heir to Adrian’s company. High-society drama tied to the entertainment industry always made for hot gossip. Later, for some unknown reason, Serena suddenly broke up with Adrian and went abroad. Soon, another man’s silhouette frequently appeared on her social media. Back then, I often delivered some home-grown organic produce from my Grandpa Leo’s garden to Adrian’s company. My grandpa was stubborn, insisting that if we received kindness, we must repay it. He was adamant that I bring him some of his pesticide-free fruits and vegetables every month. Usually, I’d just leave them with his secretary and go. But that one time, I was already in the elevator when Adrian called. “Leaving already? Want to grab a bite?” he asked. It would be a lie to say I wasn’t happy to hear that. After all, I couldn’t help but be like other young girls, adoring Adrian like a celebrity. He took over the family business at a young age and wasn’t frivolous like many trust-fund kids. What’s more, he had a cool, detached aura and that intense, unsmiling profile. At dinner, I sensed he wasn’t in a good mood. I wracked my brain, foolishly telling him jokes and even made a complete fool of myself, just wanting to make him happy. Finally, he smiled. He said, “Skylar, you have such a great personality.” After that, he started contacting me more frequently. Sometimes it was just a simple meal, sometimes we’d go see a movie I was in, sometimes we’d attend a concert. I could feel that he was quite lonely. I thought, he saved my grandpa’s life, and if my clumsy jokes could make him happy, it would be a small way of repaying that kindness. Being friends would be enough. Until one evening, he got drunk and called me. I rushed over. He was sitting alone by the river, surrounded by countless beer bottles. I tried to pull him up, but he was strong and unreasonable, pulling me into his arms. When his hot lips descended, I was completely stunned. And, unfortunately, the paparazzi captured photos of him pulling me into that embrace, and they were all over Ins the next day. I had just won a newcomer award, but I was instantly slammed as a manipulative gold-digger trying to climb the social ladder. The online attacks began, with some even suspecting I had set Adrian up, deliberately arranging for the photos to leak. I panicked and called Adrian, explaining I hadn’t done anything. He was silent for a long time on the other end of the line, then asked me one question: “Skylar, do you want to get married?”

Adrian said it was the best way to immediately stop the rumors. I stood there, stunned for a long time, until a tear dropped to the ground, and I belatedly realized something. I actually really liked him. It was just that this feeling was buried so deep, I never dared to acknowledge it. And people in love always fantasize. I foolishly believed he wanted to protect me, that he might have felt bad for me because of those rumors, and that he wanted to marry me because he liked me too. So, I agreed. But it wasn’t like that at all. Much later, after facing countless insults and rumors, I learned he married me only because Serena had gotten married abroad. He needed a replacement to force himself to forget her. He also needed to give his family elders a definitive answer to stop their constant nagging about marriage. I was well-behaved and never caused trouble. Perhaps I could even entertain him occasionally like a clown, making me the most suitable candidate. After marriage, I, completely unaware of the truth, tried my best to be a good wife, Mrs. Adrian. I tried to blend into unfamiliar circles, learning new things. Just memorizing the names and preferences of all those high-society wives often kept me up until midnight. I transformed myself into a qualified Mrs. Adrian. My clothes, makeup, speech, and manners were all impeccable. I took care of his daily life, knew his tastes and preferences, and even Adrian’s always-critical mother praised me. But apart from sleeping in the same bed, we weren’t like a real couple. He never tried to understand me, or why I, despite marrying into wealth, was so dedicated to acting. He also said he liked quiet, and even after marriage, he needed his personal space. So, I put away my lively side. If he was busy, I never bothered him, even turning down the TV volume. But later, I found out he didn’t actually like quiet. When Serena returned with amnesia, he accompanied her shopping, ice skating, to stand-up comedy shows, and even to nightclubs. He clearly didn’t mind all that excitement. He just didn’t like me. Of course, I didn’t care anymore. The old me would send a concerned message if he came home late. I continued that habit, though I no longer cared for him, it was just routine. But in the days since Serena returned, I hadn’t asked him anything.

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I discovered my wife was having an affair. Instead of confronting her, I played it cool. I didn’t expose her. In fact, I became even more doting and attentive, and far more generous with her parents. It was only later that she finally realized just how terrifying I could be. My name is Alex, and I’m a web novelist. Two years ago, I found out my wife was cheating on me. That day, I was supposed to go to New York for a web novel platform’s annual author conference. Charlotte was packing my suitcase in the bedroom, and I was in the living room when I happened to see a text message pop up on her phone: “See you tonight, babe. Room booked.” So, I secretly canceled my trip. That night, I quietly followed her and watched with my own eyes as a man put his arm around her and led her into a hotel. But I didn’t do what most men would, rushing in to fight the guy or staging a dramatic confrontation in the hotel room. All I felt was a bitter irony: my seemingly gentle and virtuous wife was also out looking for some other man. After a few days of wallowing in a motel, I pretended to return from New York. The moment I got home, I gave Charlotte a big hug. Charlotte and I had been married for six years and had a five-year-old son. My in-laws usually helped take care of him. Our life seemed perfect and harmonious. People always told me I was lucky to have such a wonderful wife. But this enviable family was about to face a massive storm. After discovering Charlotte’s infidelity, the more I looked at Leo, the less he seemed like me. Without realizing it, a terrible thought began to form in my mind. Yet, I didn’t take Leo for a DNA test. Instead, I showered him with affection. I bought him all the toys he liked, frequently took him to amusement parks, cooked him delicious meals every day, picked him up from preschool, and played games with him until we were both covered in sweat. My reasons and goals for doing all this were simple. If he was my son, he’d soon face a broken home, and my actions were just a small compensation. If he wasn’t my son, then my kindness to him was a crucial part of my revenge plan. My wife, Charlotte, wasn’t stunningly beautiful, but she was pretty and elegant with a good figure. She used to be one of my book fans, often sending me generous gifts on the novel platform. Over time, we added each other on SnapChat, and eventually, we started living together. I really liked her. She wasn’t just attractive and classy; she was also gentle and virtuous. My friends all said I must have done something truly amazing in a past life to marry her. I was secretly thrilled at first, until I discovered she’d betrayed me. What drove me crazy was that her betrayal was incredibly consistent. For the past two years, she’d been exclusively involved with one man – her direct supervisor, Daniel Sterling. If she’d been with different men, I could have called her promiscuous or sleazy. But her “loyalty” to him made me think she’d actually fallen for the guy. That morning, Charlotte reminded me it was Arthur’s birthday and asked me to buy some specialty coffee and prepare some ingredients to cook dinner at their place. I nodded in agreement. Eleanor used to run a small diner, making a living through hard work, and hadn’t saved much for retirement. Arthur had retired from a manufacturing plant; he was a factory worker, so his pension wasn’t huge, but it was enough for the two of them. That would have been fine, but as Arthur got older, he suddenly started clamoring for another son, saying that raising one grandson was the same as raising another child. Naturally, Eleanor and Charlotte strongly objected. Their reasons were the usual: societal norms, age, physical and mental energy, and financial security. Actually, I didn’t mind. After all, I was making a good income from my writing, and I wanted to help Arthur. But the problem was, his daughter was cheating on me. “Alex, have you seen this news? A woman in her sixties had IVF and gave birth to twins,” Arthur said, pointing to a news page on his computer as soon as I walked into their house. “Dad, I know about that news. I actually support you. If you want another child, go for it. I’ll always be your strong supporter.” Right then, I transferred Arthur $5,000. “Here’s some money for you to start the IVF process at the clinic. If it’s not enough later, I’ll give you more.” Ever since Charlotte’s affair, I’d been increasingly kind to Arthur and Eleanor, arguably even more so than their own daughter. Because they were indispensable pawns in my revenge plan.

Arthur’s eyes lit up when he received the money. He pulled out two bottles of his finest reserved wine, declaring we’d drink to our hearts’ content that night. As I started cooking, Arthur happily joined me, picking, washing, and chopping vegetables. I knew he truly saw me as his personal ATM this time. After Eleanor brought Leo back from preschool, I messaged Charlotte on SnapChat, asking when she’d be off work and telling her to drive carefully. Then, I arranged the cooked dishes on the table, finally placing the birthday cake in the center. In the glow of the candlelight, I looked at the familiar yet strange faces around me, a cold laugh echoing in my heart. Charlotte urged us not to drink too much, but Arthur, beaming, said he was so happy to have such a great son-in-law like Alex that he wanted to drink until he passed out tonight. Before we even finished dinner, Charlotte received a SnapChat message. She said something urgent came up at work and she had to go in for overtime, thoughtfully telling me to just sleep at her parents’ house if I drank too much. Ha. I knew exactly what Charlotte was up to. My eyes hazy from drink, I looked at her. “Honey, if you didn’t eat enough here, grab something else to eat on your way, don’t go hungry.” After Charlotte left, I received several photos and a video on my phone – all of Charlotte and that man. The first time I discovered her affair, I’d hired someone to monitor their every move. Now, my cloud drive was full of evidence of their infidelity. These would be very useful later. After Arthur passed out, I played Plants vs. Zombies with Leo for a while, then Red Light, Green Light. I made sure he drank his warm milk, then told him stories to lull him to sleep. I had spoiled him into being the little king of the house, letting him live without restraint. I had only one goal: I wanted him to be completely dependent on me. When I divorced Charlotte, I certainly wouldn’t want him. Then, I’d let Leo resent her, and watch mother and son tear each other apart. Thinking of this, I felt much lighter. I handed Leo over to Eleanor and went home. Now, my novel royalties far exceeded Charlotte’s salary. Two years ago, I used to give all my royalties to Charlotte. After discovering her affair, I only gave her a small portion, but it was still twice her salary, so she didn’t suspect anything. To be safe, I used my father’s ID to apply for another pen name, and the bulk of my royalties went into his account. Besides, the house we lived in was my pre-marital property, so it would naturally remain mine after the divorce. Therefore, my assets wouldn’t be significantly affected after the divorce. Charlotte didn’t get home until the middle of the night. A twisted urge suddenly surged through me. She had just closed the front door and hadn’t even turned on the lights when I lunged out of the darkness, embracing her and letting out a strange, cackling laugh. She thought I was staying at her parents’ house and wasn’t prepared. My sudden action scared her badly. She cursed me, calling me insane. She wasn’t wrong! I was like a lunatic now! But then again, if she hadn’t cheated, how would I have ended up like this? My mind growing darker, more twisted! After Charlotte fell asleep, I lay awake in the dark, my eyes wide open. More and more evidence, like magma secretly surging beneath the earth’s crust, accumulated, seemingly waiting for the final eruption.

Now, I went to Arthur and Eleanor’s house almost every day. First, to spend more time with Leo, making him clingier to me; second, to impress Arthur and Eleanor, laying the groundwork for the final explosion. The next day was a public holiday, but Charlotte went to work for overtime again. At the mall, I spent $40 on an action figure set for Leo. I also spent $800 on a pair of emerald bracelets for Eleanor and another $150 on two bottles of fine wine for Arthur. I didn’t feel bad spending money on them. Even though Arthur had always been somewhat opportunistic, Eleanor had always treated me well, and she helped us take care of Leo. There was a component of gratitude in spending money on her. But overall, it was still about revenge. “Alex, why did you buy so much stuff again? What’s the point of spending all this money? You two are just starting to get financially comfortable, you should save more when you’re young, you’ll need it later.” Eleanor saw me with more shopping and chided me for wasteful spending, but a hint of joy still showed in the corner of her eyes. I handed the jewelry box to Eleanor and the wine to Arthur, saying, “Dad, Mom, please don’t be so formal with me. You both work hard taking care of Leo for Charlotte and me. It’s only right for me to show my appreciation.” As I spoke, I infused my voice with deeper emotion: “You raised your daughter so well and entrusted her to me. Buying you all this is the least I can do.” “Oh, Alex, you’re such a good kid…” Eleanor was touched by my words, her eyes starting to well up. At that moment, Arthur put the wine away and walked over, grinning. “Alex cooked a fantastic dinner yesterday, so tonight, my dear wife, it’s your turn.” After Eleanor went into the kitchen, Arthur leaned in close and whispered, “I told your mother about the IVF last night. She hesitated for a long time, but she finally agreed.” Hearing this, I excitedly slapped my thigh. “That’s great news!” Arthur flinched, clearly startled by my overly enthusiastic reaction. I quickly composed myself and feigned an explanation. “Dad, I’m truly happy for you both. This way, Charlotte and I will have a little brother too.” “Yes, yes, as long as you see it that way,” Arthur said, his face full of relief. Then, he paused for a moment before saying, a little sheepishly, “I also looked into it, and I heard that the chances of having twins with IVF are higher than with natural conception.” “That’s fantastic! Who wouldn’t want twins?” Arthur and I were both elated, though for different reasons. “But if we have two boys, considering our age…” Arthur looked at me intently, a troubled expression on his face. Seeing his dilemma, I quickly declared, “Dad, that’s absolutely no problem. My novel royalties are very substantial now. Raising two younger brothers is definitely something I can handle.” Arthur nodded, satisfied with my words. After a moment, he cautiously added, “The main thing is housing… If boys don’t have houses when they grow up, it’s hard for them to find wives.” “Don’t you two worry about that. They’ll be my little brothers, and I’ll figure out the housing situation!” I looked at Arthur, my words firm and decisive. After saying that, I controlled myself, trying not to laugh. I couldn’t believe my revenge plan was progressing so smoothly. My words instantly made Arthur beam with joy. “Alex, the whole family will be counting on you from now on!” Arthur patted my shoulder. “You’re much better than my own daughter.”

A few days later, Arthur and Eleanor went for IVF… Unfortunately, it wasn’t successful. When Charlotte came home that night, I directly told her about it, suggesting we use our savings to send Arthur and Eleanor to a large hospital in the city. But to my surprise, my words completely enraged Charlotte. “Alex! Are you out of your mind? You supported them getting IVF behind my back? If they actually have kids, won’t *we* be the ones taking care of them? They’re almost sixty!” At this point, Charlotte looked at me like I was an idiot. “Alex, tell me, what are you thinking? Why are you so desperate for them to have another son? Are they your parents or my parents?!” I put my hands on Charlotte’s shoulders, patiently explaining: “Honey, Mom and Dad haven’t had it easy. They raised you, then they helped us with Leo. Now they have this longing for a son. Since we’re capable now, I just want to help them more. I’ll write a few more novels, and all these difficulties will pass.” As I said this, I sneered inwardly, but on my face, I maintained a look of thoughtful sincerity. Charlotte probably thought I was taking on all the responsibility, so she stopped objecting. She looked at me, unsure what to say. I knew this was almost a done deal! The house was my pre-marital property, and most of my royalties were already transferred to my dad’s account. Now I just wanted to get rid of all the money Charlotte had! The thought of her being left with nothing after leaving me made my heart sing. “But if Mom and Dad have children, besides the living, medical, and education expenses, what about housing?” Charlotte finally brought up the crucial point. “Honey, I’ve already discussed this with Dad. I’ll buy the kids a house. A long-form novel I wrote two years ago is currently in the process of signing a film and TV rights deal. Let alone one house, there’ll be enough money for two then,” I said, patting Charlotte’s shoulder, completely making things up. “Film and TV rights are worth that much?” Charlotte’s eyes lit up. I smiled and nodded. Seeing me nod, Charlotte finally smiled.

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I stayed because of a single sentence from Seraphina after my mission was complete. But three years into our marriage, her heart changed. The system told me I was here *for* Seraphina. The moment she no longer needed me, I would be forced to leave this world. Later, The system asked me how I wanted to die. I said, “On the overpass where we first met.” What I never expected was that the person who hit me would be her, too. The accident report, Perhaps my last “gift” to her. The day I found out Seraphina’s heart had changed was on the night of our third wedding anniversary. I’d specially cooked her favorite Honey-Glazed Salmon with Roasted Asparagus. It was then I learned that a table full of warm home-cooked dishes could turn stone cold in just three hours. I waited from eight o’clock until eleven that night. All I got was a dismissive SnapChat reply from Seraphina. “Something came up at the office. Won’t be home tonight.” I only replied: “What kind of thing?” She sent a voice message back. “You wouldn’t understand office stuff, so can you please stop acting like some clingy, jealous husband, always prying and asking questions?” Her tone was irritable, full of impatience. And a hint of entitlement. She sounded like she had a point. I’d promised to take care of the home after we married, and it probably made me seem out of touch with today’s society. All I saw around me were the mundane trivialities of daily life. Everyone envied me for being a kept man at such a young age. My wife was beautiful, and she was willing to support us. But they forgot that in the company’s early days, I was the one who helped Seraphina build it up, step by step. I was the one who drank so much I got a stomach hemorrhage, and I was the one who ended up in the hospital. It should have been a real power couple setup, a win-win for both of us. But because of one sentence from Seraphina, I willingly stepped back to be the man behind her success. “My Ash, will you take care of me from now on? I don’t want a cold, empty house. You cook so well, will you cook for me for the rest of my life, please?” Back then, our love was passionate. She clung to me, whispering sweet nothings. She looked utterly devoted to me. *Home* – what a beautiful word. Because of that sentence, I chose to stay in this world and spend my life with my girl. But she broke her promise. Somewhere along the way, the “home” we talked about became a joke, just for me. She started coming home late, and her attitude towards me worsened daily. Sometimes, she even brought back the smell of another man’s cigarette smoke. A woman’s love, or lack thereof, is brutally obvious. She no longer snuggled into my arms, sweetly calling me “My Ash.” She grew cold, speaking sharply, using my full name as if I were a servant, telling me to do this and that. I wasn’t an idiot. I could clearly see her coldness. But I refused to believe the woman who’d once promised to build a home with me would change her heart. Then, the long-absent system voice in my head shattered my last illusion.

[Target subject Seraphina Thorne has changed her heart. Host’s existence has become an emotional burden. You will soon be forced to leave this world.] “Not annihilation?” I blinked, surprised by the system’s mercy. After all, in my memory, it had always been utterly ruthless. [Host has one hour to choose your method of death. Do not waste time.] Hearing that cold, mechanical voice in my head, I surprisingly felt a flicker of warmth after so long. No expectations, no pain. I stood up, looking at the untouched meal, and in a fit of bitter defiance, dumped it all into the trash. Then I opened my phone and started scrolling through Ins. When I saw that intimate photo, a sharp, familiar pain still bloomed deep inside me. Seraphina’s strange behavior tonight now had the most logical explanation. Blake Sterling was back in the country. The playboy who once considered Seraphina a mere bet had returned. And Seraphina’s absence tonight was simply to welcome Blake Sterling back. They were celebrating in a private room. And Seraphina was looking at Blake Sterling, who stood in the center of the crowd, her eyes sparkling like stars. My fingers trembled as they grazed over those radiant eyes in the photo; I almost dropped my phone. My vision blurred, but my heart swelled with a frustrating helplessness. Had she forgotten Blake Sterling’s past cruelty? I had thought my arrival could change Seraphina’s fate, but now it seemed I was just deluding myself. The system had told me Seraphina was supposed to be the main character of a dark romance novel, a real tear-jerker. But because readers deeply resented the male lead, Blake Sterling, A gentle man was needed to save her. Someone who wouldn’t be with an arrogant, disrespectful man. And so, I appeared in Seraphina’s world. Just like her, I entered the elite private school as a scholarship student. When Seraphina was targeted by other girls, I would purposefully raise my voice and warn them that the dean was coming, making the bullies back off. When Seraphina was used as a bet by those rich kids, I risked Blake Sterling’s retaliation to personally hand her the recording. That was the first time I saw Seraphina cry. She cried and asked me *why*. At the time, I thought Seraphina was asking me why I was so good to her. But looking at that photo on Ins, that “why” sounded more like an accusation towards me. An accusation for shattering her few precious dreams. Blake Sterling’s pursuit had given the overlooked Seraphina some of the only attention she’d ever received. But I had ruined it for her. The realization hit me, and I laughed and cried at the same time, finally understanding that her gradual coldness over the years was nothing more than her revenge against me.

From a timid girl to the capable CEO she was today, I had watched her grow, step by step. The first warm pumpkin spice latte of autumn, the first roasted chestnut of winter – these few small moments of warmth left me like a drowning man grasping at straws, desperately searching for traces of Seraphina’s love in the tiniest things. [System, Seraphina loved me once, she just doesn’t anymore, right?] I humbly sought an answer from the system. [Host, you have forty minutes left.] The system’s evasiveness made me feel like a stray, utterly lost and pathetic. It was ridiculous. I wiped the tears from my face and called Seraphina. She rejected the call. But I was persistent, calling more than twenty times. Finally, she decided to acknowledge me. “Asher Hayes, are you *annoying*? Didn’t I say I was busy?” Through her impatient voice, I heard the raucous celebration of a bar, followed by an unfamiliar yet familiar male voice. “Sera, who is it? Is it your spouse checking in on you?” His tone was flirtatious, laced with casual indifference. Like it was just an idle question. “No, Asher and I… our relationship is just, you know. Just a temporary arrangement, a practical partnership.” Her voice grew flustered, as if she was worried Blake Sterling would ignore her. “Oh, if the passion’s gone, then just cut ties, right? I seem to recall you and Blake having some unfinished business back in the day.” Someone started to egg them on, shouting, “Get together! Get together!” I don’t know how Seraphina faced those taunts. All I had, Was the cold silence after the call disconnected. My hands and feet were icy. I slid down the wall to the floor, asking the system in my head in a hoarse voice: “As a strategist, was I a complete failure? I couldn’t save Seraphina, and instead, I sacrificed myself.” The system was silent for a long time. It seemed unable to bear my miserable state and finally spoke the only somewhat human-sounding sentence. [Host, this merely indicates a strong attraction between the male and female leads. Furthermore, you have taught the female lead self-reliance and confidence. Even if she ends up with the male lead, she will not fall into the passive situation of the original plot. After your death, I will send you back to your original world.] While comforting me, it still didn’t forget to urge me to die quickly. To have the system care about me before I died, It was a pretty new feeling.

I put on my coat and grabbed my car keys, heading out. The late autumn night carried a biting chill. The streetlights behind me flickered on, their dim yellow glow offering no warmth. I stood on the path, originally intending to go to the beach, but suddenly changed my mind. Within moments, I arrived at the place where Seraphina and I first met. The overpass was bustling with traffic, like this busy society, full of diverse people and situations that always made one feel out of place. When I first arrived, I hadn’t even fully registered my transmigration when I was thrown into a panic by the girl crying her eyes out in front of me. In real life, I wasn’t good with words. Seeing the girl’s pathetic state, I couldn’t help but offer her a tissue. She snatched it awkwardly, her back to me, curled into a ball, not speaking. After the system’s introduction, I realized that this tear-stained mess of a girl was the person I needed to save. The legendary protagonist of a dark romance novel, a real tear-jerker. Her mother died when she was three, and her father was sentenced to ten years in prison for theft when she was seven. She worked hard to get into an elite private school but unexpectedly met Blake Sterling due to a bet. After a series of events like campus bullying, being mistaken for the other woman, pregnancy and miscarriage, divorce, and remarriage, she would live happily ever after with the male lead. Hearing this, my face was a mask of utter disbelief, completely speechless. My mission was to make the female lead self-loving and independent, no longer living for a heartless man. In this world, my family background was the same as in my real world. No parents, no one to rely on. Looking at the silently sobbing girl, and remembering how she would later debase herself for a man, I couldn’t resist poking her shoulder. “Hey, don’t do anything foolish. There’s always hope in life.” It was cheesy advice, but I’d always comforted myself with it when facing a failed grad school application, a public service job slot being stolen, or being laid off from a company. As long as you’re alive, there’s always a way out. But my words seemed to infuriate the girl. A rare flash of annoyance crossed her face. “What do you know? You have no idea how exhausting my life is!” Perhaps because I was a complete stranger, she poured out all her teenage troubles to me. I knew she didn’t need my comfort. She was just too overwhelmed and needed someone to vent to. I listened silently, offering her a bottle of water when she got thirsty. We talked from dawn till dusk, and the resentment on Seraphina’s face gradually faded, her expression softening. “I’m sorry for wasting so much of your time listening to my rambling.” She stood up, brushed the dust off her skirt, waved to me, and shouted cheerfully, “Kind stranger, until we meet again!” She was vibrant and full of life, not at all the emaciated person described in the later parts of the novel. I suddenly felt that the mission the system had given me truly had meaning.

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