Author: Momo Chan

My CEO husband, Victor Thorne, loved bringing his buddies home for dinner, claiming it made us feel more like a family. Watching me serve a table piled high with dishes, one of his friends grinned. “You’re always such a gracious hostess, Elara! Truly the queen of this castle.” My expression didn’t change as I asked, half-jokingly, “Oh? Is there some other, less… *generous* lady of the house I should know about?” His friends froze, a flicker of panic in their eyes. Victor chuckled, pulling me into a hug. “Listen to them babbling nonsense. Besides you, who else in this world is worthy of being my wife?” Watching his nonchalant act, I smiled. But the moment I turned away, I dialed a number. “Julian, Victor Thorne is cheating on me. Make sure he rots in prison.” My brother on the other end of the line was silent for three seconds. “Elara, are you sure you’re not mistaken? Victor, he…” I pulled off the wedding ring from my left hand, the diamond digging painfully into my palm. “We’ve been married for ten years. Every single one of his cufflinks, I’ve had custom-made in Italy.” “But today, he’s wearing a cheap, plastic flower pin. Julian, do you really think I’m mistaken?” “You know I won’t tolerate injustice. Expose all the dirty deeds he’s done over the years. And while you’re at it, get me the best lawyer. I want a divorce.” Julian’s anger flared. “Consider it done.” Half an hour later, my phone pinged with an encrypted file. I clicked open the first picture: an innocent-looking girl in a white shirt, beaming as she held a man’s arm. Her wrist, peeking out from her sleeve, bore a wolf-head tattoo identical to Victor’s. Without hesitation, I drove straight to his company. Minutes later, a girl with long, straight black hair and a white dress hurried out. I glanced at her employee ID: Serena Vance. The moment she saw me, her face went white with fright. She instinctively hid her hand behind her back. But I still caught sight of it: a Swiss custom-made watch. Last year, on my birthday, I received a notification of a Swiss purchase. A three-million-dollar watch, a fifty-thousand-dollar necklace. The necklace was carefully kept at home. The watch was on *her* wrist. I scoffed, cutting straight to the chase. “Ms. Vance, your husband seems to have remarkably similar taste to mine. Even his custom-made watch has the exact same design.” Serena trembled at my words, her red lips parting and closing several times before she stammered, “Y-yes… I guess all men have similar aesthetics.” Her fingers, clutching the hem of her dress, were bone-white. “Enough with the act,” I said flatly. “You’re the ‘little lady’ they’ve been calling, aren’t you?” Seeing that I’d directly confronted her, Serena trembled even harder, a panicked mess. “Please don’t misunderstand, it’s just that Mr. Thorne had another low blood sugar faint, and I simply looked after him once.” “Mr. Thorne’s friends thought I was very attentive, and they were just joking around.” “I’m truly sorry if I caused any misunderstanding.” With that, she even dramatically folded over in a ninety-degree bow towards me. She looked like a pathetic, wronged damsel. If I hadn’t seen her tactics for seducing Victor, I might have actually fallen for it. Half a month ago, she posted a video on TikTok. A man was swiping his card at a luxury car dealership, next to a Porsche. Her caption read: *Where a man’s money goes, his love follows.* At that time, I was at home, burning with a fever, almost unconscious. I called Victor, asking him to take me to the hospital. He panicked for a second, but then his voice turned hoarse, like he was suppressing something. “Darling, I’ll have the housekeeper take you. I have something urgent I can’t get away from.” An hour later, I was fighting for my life in the hospital with pneumonia. Meanwhile, she posted a photo lying in a car, a man’s chiseled abs dotted with suggestive red marks. Caption: *New car and you, forever marked as mine.* When Victor finally arrived, his shirt still half-unbuttoned. He threw himself by my bedside, his eyes red-rimmed. Then, I naively thought he was worried about me. But it turns out, it was just guilt from his illicit affair. A wave of nausea washed over me. And *this* is the caliber of woman Victor betrayed me for? Truly pathetic. Too disgusted to watch her pathetic act any longer, I turned and left. But the moment I got into my car, Victor called. The instant I answered, his voice was laced with panic. “Why did you suddenly decide to come to the company?”

“Why?” I started the car, asking coolly, “Just happened to have a contract to discuss. Is there something you’re afraid I’ll find out?” Victor seemed completely thrown by my question. His breathing hitched. After a few seconds of silence, his voice softened, adopting his usual coaxing tone. “Darling, what are you talking about?” “There’s nothing I’m hiding from you. It’s just that my office is a mess; I’d have had someone clean it up if I knew you were coming.” “Besides, how could I ever betray you? Feel free to check anything.” Hearing that, I felt a flicker of confusion. Serena hadn’t told him I’d confronted her. I scrolled through the evidence, listening to his excuses. Three gigabytes of files, every single day connected to Victor. Last Valentine’s Day, he claimed to be on a business trip abroad and couldn’t call. In reality, he was in the Arctic watching the Northern Lights with Serena. My father was gravely ill, I called him over thirty times, and he didn’t answer a single one. Turns out, he was celebrating Serena’s birthday. “I believe you, but what about that watch?” Seeing that I brought it up, Victor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief. He leaned closer to the phone, his voice laced with a deliberately cultivated intimacy. “That watch… I fainted suddenly at the office, and Serena happened to be passing by. She helped me to the hospital.” He paused, then continued, “She stayed by my side all night, so I bought her the watch as a thank you. I just forgot to tell you.” Forgot, huh? He must be quite forgetful then. Not only did he forget to tell me about that, but he also conveniently forgot about the three days and three nights they spent in a penthouse suite at a hotel. I sneered inwardly. “She’s incredibly attentive, isn’t she? Even the black shirt you wore when you fainted, she washed, ironed, and returned it to you perfectly the next day.” Victor clearly faltered on the other end, his breath catching for a split second, before he quickly recovered with a laugh. “Isn’t she though? The young lady is so thoughtful.” “See? You’re always so suspicious. You’re the only one in my heart, darling.” His voice was close to the receiver, dripping with forced affection. “Once I’m done with this busy period, I’ll take you to the Maldives for a make-up vacation, just the two of us. How does that sound?” That tender tone used to melt my heart. Now, it just made me sick. “Sounds lovely,” I said, gazing out at the passing city lights, my voice as calm as if I were discussing the weather. “But you focus on your important business first. Don’t let me distract you.” “Nothing is more important than spending time with you, darling.” Victor’s voice was filled with urgent appeasement, but my heart grew colder and colder. It wasn’t just Victor’s betrayal that shocked me, but the realization that they had been playing this charade right under my nose for so long. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I fought back the urge to confront Victor right then and there. No. I wanted him to confess his relationship with Serena in front of everyone, and then I would utterly ruin both of them. I mumbled a few dismissive words and hung up the phone. Just then, Serena’s social media updated again. The screen showed her in an intricately designed, diamond-encrusted wedding gown, her eyes sparkling with joy. “Another mistress tried to cause trouble today, wanting to take my place, but Mr. Thorne is making it up to me. He’s finally going to marry me!” “I just mentioned wanting a castle wedding, and he bought an entire castle for me!” She curved her lips, the camera casually sweeping over a property deed. “And these wineries? He actually wants me to manage them!” “How could a little dummy like me do that? Good thing Mr. Thorne promised to come with me to assert my authority, so those people won’t dare to bully me because of my age!” Seeing my French name printed on the property deed in the video, a surge of pure rage coursed through me. Those wineries were a coming-of-age gift from my brother. And Victor Thorne was using them to impress his mistress! Fine. They wanted to assert their authority, did they? I’d like to see how they’ll ‘establish their authority’ in front of the *real* owner of the winery!

I bought a plane ticket that night and flew to France. At the winery, Mr. Abernathy, the old butler, looked surprised to see me. “Ms. Sterling, what brings you here? Didn’t you say you were lending the estate to Mr. Thorne for an event today? And that all the family members were to be cleared out?” Hearing that, I felt my anger flare. Just as I was about to reply, Victor’s call came through. “Darling, I’m in a cross-border meeting. I’ll fly back to you as soon as I’m done.” Before I could answer, a syrupy sweet female voice faintly echoed from the other end. “Victor, does this look good on me?” The next second, Victor muffled the phone and walked away. “Can’t talk now, meeting’s starting.” Almost simultaneously, the winery’s ornate gates swung open, and over a dozen luxury cars pulled up in sequence at the fountain plaza. Countless unfamiliar faces were ushered to their seats. I found a secluded spot and sat down. Once everything was set, Serena Vance made her entrance in a fiery red haute couture gown, oozing the smug confidence of someone who’d just risen above her station. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Serena Vance, the new owner of this winery.” “Mr. Thorne said that from now on, all the wine here, the castle, even every grape in the vineyard, is under my management!” “To celebrate, all wines are seventy percent off, consider it a welcome gift!” Seventy percent off? She was certainly generous. The cheapest wines here cost at least a million a bottle. Some were such rare vintage collector’s items that even the British Royal Family would have to think twice before I’d consider selling to them! Mr. Abernathy, who had watched me grow up, was seething with rage. “When did this winery become hers?!” “And how dare Victor Thorne cheat on Ms. Sterling with a mistress?! Does he have a death wish?!” Seeing the butler about to storm out, I quickly shook my head. Now wasn’t the time to expose her. I wanted Victor to personally admit his relationship with Serena, and then I would utterly ruin both of them. Just then, the ornate gates opened again, and Victor Thorne strode in, impeccably dressed in a custom suit. Serena immediately rushed into his arms, giggling as she shook his arm. “Victor, I always said this brand suits you best.” Victor’s eyes visibly stiffened, but he nodded impassively. My internal fury, however, was about to erupt. The founder of that brand is our sworn enemy. My father was driven to his grave, heartbroken and defeated, by their ruthless schemes. Victor knew this. Yet, he was publicly slapping me in the face. Just as I could no longer hold back and was about to storm out, Victor’s friends surrounded him. “Victor, look at your ‘little lady,’ so vibrant and full of life!” “‘Little lady,’ our Victor just bought you a winery worth hundreds of millions! Where else can you find such a great man?!” “From now on, this winery will be called the ‘Vance Estate,’ so how are you going to thank our Victor?” Amidst their boisterous laughter, Serena lowered her head, blushing. Just then, Mr. Dubois, the winery manager, who was bringing over wine, spoke up, confused. “Called the ‘Vance Estate’? Didn’t you just borrow this from our young mistress, Ms. Sterling?” At his words, the guests exchanged bewildered glances, whispering among themselves. “What’s going on?” “I only heard this winery belonged to Mrs. Thorne, but isn’t Mrs. Thorne’s maiden name Sterling?” “Huh? Then if she’s a Vance, could she be some kind of imposter?” The manager’s face was already alight with fury. “Mr. Thorne, how could you do such a thing behind Ms. Sterling’s back?!” As he spoke, he reached for his phone to call me. The next second, Victor’s bodyguards swarmed forward, pressing the manager to his knees. Victor’s gaze swept coldly over the gathered crowd. “Rip his mouth out. Make him pay for running his mouth.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the ruthless chill of someone accustomed to high power. The banquet hall fell silent instantly. Victor didn’t even lift an eyelid, his fingers casually caressing Serena’s face. “Serena is the true young mistress of the Thorne family! Elara Sterling is merely a housekeeper we employed.” A housekeeper? I was almost laughing from pure indignation. It seemed Victor had truly forgotten who had, step by step, propelled him to his current position of power. If it weren’t for me, he’d still be a nobody on the streets, getting kicked around, barely surviving! I struggled alongside him for ten years, even taking two knives to the chest for him, and had my brother secretly help him. When I was teetering on the edge of life and death, all I thought about was how to pave the way for him. Yet, in the end, he called me a “housekeeper.” No one present dared to cross Victor, and they all quickly chimed in. “So that’s it! Mrs. Thorne is too generous, letting a mere housekeeper use the Thorne family name to swagger around and cheat people.” Some even advised Serena. “Mrs. Thorne, a housekeeper like that might try to seduce Mr. Thorne at any time.” “You need to be careful. I think you should just fire her!” “With such malicious intentions, she should be thrown into the ocean to feed the fish!” The triumphant smile on Serena’s face was impossible to suppress. The manager’s face was ashen, but he struggled desperately before being dragged away. “I want to see Ms. Elara Sterling! She is the true Mrs. Thorne!” The guests’ faces showed disdain. “That housekeeper is truly cunning, even the winery manager has been fooled by her!” “Mr. Thorne, you really can’t keep such an ungrateful snake around.” Victor’s cold gaze swept over the crowd, his thin lips parting slightly. “I’ll say it again: I only have Serena Vance as my wife. From now on, anyone who dares to disrespect her will face my wrath.” The banquet hall fell silent. Only I slowly began to clap, the sound drawing everyone’s attention. I took off my baseball cap, looking at them coldly. “Then tell me, if she’s Mrs. Thorne, who exactly am I?” Victor and Serena’s smiles instantly froze.

The air in the banquet hall seemed to instantly solidify. The guests’ gazes uniformly slammed into me. From initial bewilderment, to seeing my face, they all gasped sharply. Serena’s triumphant smile instantly froze. She instinctively shrank behind Victor, her fingers, gripping his sleeve, trembling uncontrollably, her voice shaking. “You… how are you here?” I ignored her, my eyes fixed on Victor. His pupils abruptly constricted, a flicker of panic in his eyes, but it was quickly masked by his usual ruthlessness. He released Serena’s waist, walked towards me, his voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremor of alarm. “Elara? Why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to wait for me at home?” “Wait for you at home?” I repeated those words, smiling as I looked up at his familiar face, then spoke softly, “Wait for you to give my winery away to someone else, or wait for you to announce to the world that I’m merely your family’s housekeeper?” Victor’s face instantly darkened. After a moment, he seemed to have suppressed his emotions. He lowered his head, his voice deliberately hushed, attempting to plead, “There are too many ears here; this isn’t the place to talk.” “Elara, come home with me first.” “We’ll discuss everything at home; I’ll explain everything slowly later.” He tried to reach for my wrist, his movements as familiar as the countless times he’d placated me over the past decade. But looking at the cheap plastic flower pin on his cuff, smelling the perfume on him that wasn’t mine, I felt my stomach churn. I sharply recoiled, avoiding his touch. “Explain?” I laughed, the sound jarringly loud in the silent banquet hall. “Explain why you’re wearing the brand of our sworn enemy?” “Explain why you gave the winery my brother gifted me as a present to your mistress?” “Or explain how smug you felt when you just called me a housekeeper?” Victor’s face went from green to pale. He likely hadn’t expected me to publicly slap him in the face like this, and the panic in his eyes was undeniable. He gritted his teeth, his voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper against my ear. “Elara Sterling, don’t make a scene!” “Do you really want to humiliate me in front of everyone? Just come with me now, I’m begging you.” “Please?” He tried to soften me with his past intimate tone, but I found it utterly sarcastic. Years ago, when he was being chased and beaten in the streets, I was the one who carried him on my back for three blocks to find a doctor. When he was stabbed by a rival and lay on the operating table, I signed the critical condition notice and waited outside the operating room for three days and three nights. “Victor Thorne,” I looked up at him, my gaze as cold as tempered steel, “Do you really think there’s a ‘later’ for us anymore?” Victor’s face completely lost all color. He probably hadn’t expected me to be so merciless. “Elara, do you really have to be like this?” He practically gritted his teeth as he spoke, “Our ten years together, can’t you give me a chance to explain?” “Years together?” I pulled a stack of documents from my bag and flung them hard at his face. Papers scattered across the floor, the top one a record of his and Serena’s stay in a hotel penthouse suite. “When you were tangled up with her while I was burning with fever and unconscious, why didn’t you think about our ‘years together’?” Victor’s head snapped back from the impact of the files, veins bulging in his neck. The next second, he whirled around fiercely, his eyes filled with a hatred I couldn’t comprehend. “Elara Sterling, then don’t blame me.” Victor abruptly turned, his voice sharp. “Everyone, look closely! This woman is no Mrs. Thorne! She’s just a housekeeper employed by my family!” “Her family was so poor they couldn’t make ends meet back then. I kindly took her in, gave her food and clothes, and let her work as a housekeeper in my home!” He pointed at my nose, the ruthlessness in his eyes almost overflowing. “I never expected her to be such an ungrateful snake, seeing my success and daring to try and worm her way into my bed, even forging an identity to flaunt around and deceive people!” Serena immediately played along, her eyes reddening, sobbing behind him. “Victor, don’t say that… Ms. Sterling was just confused for a moment…” As she spoke, she secretly glanced up to gauge the guests’ reactions, a hint of triumph in her eyes. Several of Victor’s friends immediately stepped forward to back him up. “That’s right! We all know!” “This woman is just a housekeeper, using her long stay in the Thorne household to try and climb the social ladder!” “Victor has been more than benevolent to her, yet she still dares to cause trouble here. Shameless!” The guests’ murmurs grew louder, their gazes at me filled with disdain and disgust. Some pointed fingers at me, and one even muttered, “Turns out she’s a fraud. Looks decent on the outside, but her heart is utterly foul.” Victor watched the scene, a twisted smile on his face. He took a step forward, closing in on me, and threatened in a voice only we could hear, “Elara Sterling, if you know what’s good for you, get out now, or I’ll ruin you here and ensure you have no future left!” I looked at his distorted face, finding it utterly ridiculous. Mr. Abernathy, the old butler, was trembling with rage, shakily pointing at Victor. “You… you ungrateful snake!” “If Ms. Sterling hadn’t begged her father to pull strings and save you, you’d have rotted in prison long ago!” “Ms. Sterling broke ties with her family for you, even taking a knife for you and almost dying! Is this how you repay her?!” Victor’s face went from green to pale, clearly not expecting the old butler to expose his past in public. The ruthlessness in his eyes was almost overflowing. Just then, Serena Vance, who had been hiding behind him and feigning pitifulness, suddenly looked up, a sinister glint in her eyes. She clutched Victor’s sleeve, her voice timid, yet her words were venomous. “Victor… I, I know this might not be good to say… but if Ms. Sterling keeps pestering you like this, won’t it… won’t it jeopardize your plans?” She paused, as if summoning courage, then looked around at the guests, her voice trembling but clear. “I heard the others say before that people with malicious intentions, ungrateful snakes like her… they should be… they should be thrown into the ocean to feed the fish…” At her words, the hall fell into a terrifying silence. Even Victor’s friends were stunned, clearly not expecting this woman, who usually acted so sweet and innocent, to utter such cruel words. Victor’s pupils constricted sharply. He instinctively looked at me, a complex flicker in his eyes.

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Ashton Vance and I had been locked in a vicious dance for six long years. He drove my mother to a fall that left her paralyzed, and I leaked classified info, watching his empire crumble. Everyone believed we were destined to torment each other for an eternity. When we met again, he had already risen from the ashes, effortlessly fielding questions from reporters. “Remember back in college, we all said we’d find love by 18, marry by 25, and have a kid before 28? Ashton, which step are you on now?” “I’m almost engaged.” “Wow, you’re the fastest one here then!” I twirled the ring on my left hand. Actually, I’d completed all three steps. The girl who walked in was Ashton’s fiancée. She was young, beautiful, and incredibly polite. After nodding to each of us, she settled into the seat beside Ashton. He didn’t spare her a glance, his eyes fixated on me instead. I could feel the probing gazes from everyone around us. A few years back, the drama between Ashton and me had been public knowledge. I picked up my bag, ready to leave. The two people beside me, though, clearly thought I was about to storm the stage and claw that girl’s face off. They instinctively held me back. I raised an eyebrow at them. “Uh, haha, Anya, where are you going?” “Restroom.” “Oh, haha, okay.” They forced out awkward laughs and sat back down. As I left, I could still hear their hushed whispers. “Two years, and Anya’s mellowed out a lot.” “Seriously, she almost scared me to death. With her old temper, she would’ve totally scratched his little fiancée’s face, right?” “Still can’t get over it after two years, huh? Saw his fiancée and had to bolt.” “Since there’s no trouble, tell them to dismiss the security guards.” It wasn’t until I stepped outside that I saw the two rows of bodyguards standing at the door. They looked a little tense when they saw me. The one in charge touched his earpiece, then led the others away. I sat on the outdoor lawn, calling my daughter. She was telling me a new story she’d learned that day. Ashton’s interview also moved outside. We always found each other in a crowd, instantly. “Mr. Vance, what would you like to say to the person who caused your bankruptcy back then?” He let out a light chuckle, looking at the camera. “I saw her today. Her eyes are still as beautiful as ever. If I get the chance, I’d love to personally gouge them out and make them into a necklace for my fiancée.” Everyone present was shocked by his words. It was just another brutal jab, barely a ripple in the ocean of hatred we’d swam in for six years. “Did you take any revenge back then?” “Does crippling her mother count?” I swirled my wine glass, watching a children’s story on my phone, calmly coaxing my daughter. My indifferent attitude clearly infuriated Ashton. Or perhaps, between us, no reason was needed; we simply wished each other dead. Ashton sat beside me, one finger pressing down on my phone. He glanced at it and snickered. “Maybe some zen meditation music would suit you better.” Ashton turned to the person behind him, introducing her. “Willow, this is Anya, our class president from college.” Willow Reed smiled sweetly, extending her hand to me. “Anya, it’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Willow Reed, Ashton’s fiancée.” Just as they were all expecting a dramatic scene from me, I simply said, light as a feather, “Hello.”

Ashton narrowed his eyes, as if trying to see straight through me. Then he sneered dismissively, thinking I was overacting. Ashton went off for his interview, and Willow took my hand. “You’re so beautiful, Anya. I heard Ashton’s ex-girlfriend of six years is here today too. Do you know who it is?” I didn’t bother to guess if she was being genuine or not. I pulled my hand away, wiping it on a napkin with a hint of my usual fastidiousness. “Sorry, I’m a bit of a germaphobe.” Willow lowered her head, her face flushing with embarrassment. “Anya, who are you trying to fool? You’ve been trash since college, and two years later, you’re still putting on the same act.” Zachary Vance sprawled carelessly in the seat opposite me. “Zachary, don’t say that. Anya isn’t that kind of person.” “Willow, you’ve only met her once, and she’s already fooled you. I’ve known her for six years! If it wasn’t for her, how would my brother have gone bankrupt?” “What do you mean?” “Willow, you still don’t get it? She’s my brother’s trashy ex-girlfriend.” Zachary provocatively blew a bubble of gum in my direction. I blocked it with my bag, then stood up and slammed the bag into Zachary’s face. “Anya! What the hell was that for! Do you think I’m like you? I’m Zachary Vance, the second young master of the Vance family! Who are you to lay a hand on me? Believe it or not, my brother will chop off your fingers!” “Your Vance family means nothing to me. If I can make him go bankrupt once, I can make him go bankrupt twice.” The sudden confrontation completely derailed their interview. Ashton rushed back. I looked down at the gum stain on my white bag. I have a germaphobia. I held up the bag, looking at the person in front of me. “One hundred thousand.” “You’re still asking my brother for such a small amount of money? Are you doing this on purpose? Looks like you haven’t been doing so well these past two years, but your flirting skills have definitely improved.” I picked up the bag to hit him again, but Ashton grabbed my wrist. “What was the last thing you said?” “One hundred thousand.” “The one before that.” I thought for a moment. I wasn’t sure if that was the line he wanted. But since he wanted to hear it, fine. “If I can make him go bankrupt once, I can make him go bankrupt twice.” Ashton smiled. It was the first genuine smile he’d shown all evening. “I like you better when you’re not pretending.” I yanked my hand free, my arm frozen mid-swing. But he actually leaned his face closer. “If that hand lands, I’ll make sure your mother is paralyzed from the waist up too.” I found it disgusting and hadn’t intended to hit him, but as soon as he said that, my palm connected firmly with his face. Zachary charged forward first. “You actually hit him! Are you f*cking insane?” He squeezed my neck, and I yanked his hair. A clear glass stool smashed against Zachary, blood streaming from his head. I picked up a glass shard and slashed Ashton’s arm. Ashton, with sheer brute force, shoved me into the pool. We fought, disgracefully, in a tangled mess. “I heard you’ve been taking care of your mother these past two years. Must be tough, right? How about I help you stage an accident? That way, you won’t have to be tired anymore.” “Your eyes are truly beautiful. Gouging them out to propose to Willow would be magnificent.” I didn’t have as much to say as him. My gaze fixed on his chest, and I plunged the knife in. I wanted to see him squirm, to stubbornly try and act tough. Then tremble and beg me to push harder. But the imagined scene didn’t happen. Willow stepped in front of him. Blood bloomed on her white dress. “Vent your rage on me if you’re crazy, but why hurt her! Don’t you know she has a bleeding disorder?” I twisted the knife harder. “Now I do.” “Anya! Don’t you dare involve family!” “Oh, so my mother deserved to be paralyzed?”

I mercilessly shoved Willow into the pool. Then I wiped the blood from the knife onto Ashton’s shirt. The sudden turn of events stunned everyone; no one dared to intervene. Ashton called me a lunatic, but in his eyes, there was clearly more than just anger—there was a flicker of excitement. “Crazy?” “Isn’t this what you wanted?” From the moment I stepped into this gathering, he had been provoking me. Ashton and I had been fighting for so long, I’d even forgotten what it was like when we loved each other. On the day Ashton proposed, I sold his company’s confidential documents. On the day I agreed to marry him, he had someone disconnect my mother’s oxygen tank. On the day of the car accident, when he was being flown overseas for treatment. He was hooked up to countless tubes. Seeing me arrive, he tore off his oxygen mask and savagely bit my lips. “Anya, if I die, in our next life, will you marry me? Let’s not torture each other anymore, okay?” He slowly collapsed from lack of oxygen, and I watched his hopeful eyes as I shook my head. “There is no next life for us.” At the hospital, Ashton rolled up his sleeves. “Our blood types match. Take mine. If it’s not enough, take it all.” By the time he emerged from the blood donation room, he was swaying. He pressed on my shoulders, desperate to prove himself. “Anya, did you see? I know how to love someone.” “Bro, you’ve given too much blood, you’re not thinking straight. Bro, let me help you.” Ashton pushed Zachary away. “Get lost!” “I’m perfectly clear-headed.” He looked at me again. “Did you see? I’ve learned how to love. I can pick anyone and love them deeply! Don’t you understand?” Red and blue police lights flashed across our faces. I pushed him towards Zachary. I’m a germaphobe, so I patted down the spot where he’d touched me. “The police are here. Time for statements. I’ll pay for her medical expenses.” “Anya, I’m begging you first. Let’s just let each other go.” I didn’t answer him. I had already let him go two years ago. At the police station, we were put in separate interrogation rooms. After giving my statement, I just sat there. The murmuring from the room next door grew louder. “Bro, you can fool others, but you can’t fool me, right? This is another one of your new tricks, isn’t it? You know she won’t marry you, so you insist on marrying her just to spite her.” “What about Willow then? Oh, right, Willow is so obedient, she’d be willing to be your mistress.” “I’m serious. But until she agrees, I won’t break up with Willow. She’s young; telling her suddenly would be too much for her to handle.” “Bro, what if Anya hears us?” After a long silence, Ashton’s voice finally came through. “If she heard, she’d storm in and slap each of us without hesitation. Since she hasn’t, it means she can’t hear.” I found it amusing. I lowered my head and made a call. “Hey, come pick me up.” Within ten minutes, a police officer called my name. “Anya, your family is here to pick you up.” “Okay, thank you.” “You can leave after signing these.” I walked out of the room, passing theirs. Zachary chuckled and asked, “Family? Doesn’t she only have her mother? And isn’t her mother paralyzed?” “Must be a friend.” Zachary suddenly couldn’t resist, opening the door with a laugh. “Officer, who came to pick up Anya just now?”

“What’s it to you? Get back in.” “Oh, come on, Officer, don’t be like that~” Zachary stood on his tiptoes, peering around the corridor corner. “Huh, I don’t see Anya, but I do see a kid.” “Bro, Dad’s here to pick us up. Should we go out and take a look?” “Besides friends, what other family does she have in this city? Let’s just go home. We have a meeting with the Hayes family tomorrow about a collaboration.” Leaving the police station, Dominic Hayes opened the car door for me. “How did a gathering turn into a trip to the police station?” My daughter, in the backseat, flailed her arms excitedly. “Fighting bad guys, of course! Ha! Mommy is super awesome!” I reached back and ruffled her hair. “I’ll tell you all about it when we get home.” Dominic glanced at me. “I knew you couldn’t keep your temper in check. I should have gone with you.” “It’s fine.” Dominic suddenly remembered something. “Will Ashton be at the Hayes family dinner tomorrow?” “Probably. Didn’t Jocelyn say you have a project to discuss?” Dominic tapped his control panel and called Jocelyn Day. “Mr. Hayes.” “Is the Hayes family collaborating with the Vance family?” “Yes, Ashton Vance’s main purpose for returning to the country this time was to connect with the Hayes family. It was a small project, so I didn’t report it to you.” “From now on, I want all updates on Ashton Vance immediately. And reschedule my appointments for tomorrow to the dinner.” “Understood, Mr. Hayes.” I sighed. “You focus on your work.” “He’s still an ex-boyfriend, after all. I’m actually quite interested in meeting him.” “Alright. Did you see the message I sent you earlier?” “Yes. I had Jocelyn contact the hospital for the bill, but the person has already been discharged.” “Discharged?” I knew how deep that knife went. Even on an adult man, it would have been severe. Let alone a frail young girl. But it was her choice; no one could stop her. I didn’t dwell on it. Dominic also handled the news scandal from the daytime. I slept soundly that night. The next day, Jocelyn picked up Daisy for a photoshoot. Dominic had an emergency at the office. I stayed home, changing clothes. These past two years, to manage my emotions, I’d been doing calming activities at home. Like painting, flower arranging, brewing tea. Or playing piano, doing some design work. So I rarely went out. If Dominic was coming today, it would be our first public outing together. So I dressed a little more elegantly. I wore a bright red mermaid-style dress. Upon arriving at the venue, Dominic Hayes’ imposing bodyguards finally reacted. “Madam.” “Tell Mr. Hayes to find me when he arrives.” “Yes, Madam. Please watch your step.” The moment I entered, I attracted a lot of attention. “Who is that? What a grand entrance. Even Old Mr. Thompson’s bodyguards wouldn’t bat an eye when he arrived at the Hayes mansion, so why are they holding an umbrella and opening doors for *her*?” “I’m always in the wives’ circle, and she’s certainly pretty, but I’ve never seen her before.” “Look, not a single drop of rain on her, and I’m wearing ten-centimeter heels and my feet are soaked.” “Looks like Dominic’s security plays favorites based on appearances!” It was raining quite heavily outside. The wives and gentlemen all watched me, complaining with dissatisfaction. They didn’t know that if even a single drop touched my dress, they would face severe consequences. “Ms. Anya, Mr. Vance requests your presence.” I glanced at Ashton Vance in the corner table; he raised his glass to me. Several bodyguards, hands clasped behind their backs, stood before me, blocking my path. They didn’t know that this simple act of blocking the door nearly triggered a level-one security alert. I gave a reassuring look to the bodyguard captains on the second floor. Then I sat on the sofa opposite Ashton. “You look beautiful today.” Willow Reed was beside him. She’d been discharged from the hospital, still looking pale and sickly. “What an entrance you made. To be here, it seems I underestimated you these past two years.” “Do I really need your approval?” He smiled, pouring me a drink. “Dressing so beautifully and heading straight to the second floor… what, trying to land a big fish? The second floor… let me guess your target: The Thompsons? The Montgomerys?” Ashton was sharp, quick to read the room. “Neither? Tsk. Then it must be the Hayes family, right?” When I remained silent, he overfilled the glass, spilling wine. Willow winced in pain, raising her hand to take the bottle from him, reminding him, “Ashton.” Ashton slammed the bottle heavily onto the table. “How many lives do you have to try and catch such a big fish? Forget the Hayes family; just one of The Thompsons could kill you nine times over. If you don’t have an access pass, going up there could end very badly for you.” “There’s an access pass?” Ashton chuckled contemptuously. “I advise you to stay put and not try anything suicidal in this place.” I crooked a finger at a bodyguard. “Do I need a card to go to the second floor?” The section of bodyguards I pointed at instantly tensed, then bowed in unison towards me. “Wherever you wish to go, no one will dare to stop you.” I waved my hand, motioning for them to return to their duties. I turned back to Ashton’s darkened face. “What exactly is your identity?” “Someone will tell you soon enough.” I picked up my bag and headed to the second floor. As soon as I got upstairs, various executives came forward to toast me. I casually picked up a cup of tea. “My apologies, everyone. I’m not feeling well today, so I can only toast with tea.”

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When Julian Davies’ assistant, Chloe, caused a scene with my parents again, I couldn’t hold back. I slapped her. I expected Julian to do what he always did—lock me, with my claustrophobia, in the basement crawling with bugs and rats. But this time, he didn’t punish me. He just watched me, nonchalantly. “Disobedient people deserve a harsh lesson, don’t they?” My heart pounded. I thought eight years of groveling had finally softened him. But the very next day, my intimate photos were circulating throughout the city’s elite for a measly $9.99. My parents were forced to kneel in a hall, watching my videos being auctioned off, utterly humiliated. Meanwhile, the culprit was in a private booth, wrapped in Chloe’s arms. Seeing the divorce papers in my hand, Julian scoffed. “Audrey, if you actually divorced me, I might even respect you. But playing your games doesn’t work on me. Why don’t you get down on your knees and beg Chloe for forgiveness? Then I might consider keeping you around.” Everyone around me laughed, seeing me as a pathetic fool. But countless tears had already drained all the emotion from me. This time, I was truly leaving.

My heart shattered completely when I saw the men in the private booth taking turns handing Julian cash. Those men, clutching my photos, stood together, boasting loudly, their eyes on me leering and sticky. “Audrey’s really wild in bed, isn’t she? I can practically smell it through the photos. Man, I’ve slept with all kinds of women, but this is the first time I’ve gotten off on a piece of paper.” “Tell me about it! She looks so innocent on the outside, but underneath, she’s a total slut. Who knew she knew so many positions?” “Probably because she’s a dancer. They’re the most fun to play with.” Their disgusting words buzzed in my ears. I bit down hard on my lower lip, trembling as I looked at Julian. He sat there, perfectly at ease, his arm around his new lover, Chloe. Our eyes met. “What’s wrong, Mrs. Davies? Why the sour face? Are you unhappy?” A faint smile played on his lips. He turned to the dozen men. “Hey, you rascals! Mrs. Davies is a little sensitive about public displays. Keep it down, don’t scare her off, okay?” As he spoke, he gestured, flicking the money he’d just collected onto the table in front of me. “Consider this an apology from my friends. See? This is all money you earned yourself. Much more glorious than the money you used to just ask for.” Everyone erupted in laughter. “Julian’s got his head on straight, alright! But some women, who are just gold-diggers to their core, never get it. Didn’t Audrey use every trick in the book to marry into the Davies family, just hoping to marry into wealth and live a life of luxury without lifting a finger?” “Yeah, Julian’s really unlucky, isn’t he? Stuck with a leech like her. Probably can’t shake her off for life.” If this were before, I would have endured their cruel words for Julian’s sake. But this time, I picked up a ten-dollar bill from the floor, walked over to Julian, and said, “Thank you for going to such lengths to teach me this lesson. As a token of my gratitude, I’ll give you ten bucks. Consider it the processing fee for our divorce papers.” Julian paused, then let out a sneering laugh. “Audrey, have I been too lenient with you lately? Are you getting brave enough to threaten me with divorce?” “Do you really think I let you in here to watch you play these cheap tricks?” His voice was laced with disgust, his eyes filled with deep mockery. I clenched my fingers, my heart aching with a thousand tiny pricks. Of course, I knew why he let me in. He wanted to see my dignity stripped away, to see me bow down and apologize to Chloe. He hated me. So he used every method to get revenge, to humiliate me. All because I accepted twenty million dollars from his parents years ago, when my family faced an emergency. He believed I was a manipulative woman, who used every trick to marry him, just to pay off my parents’ debts. But Julian didn’t know that I had already repaid that money. As for the stubborn love I once held for him in my youth, it was now completely buried.

Laughter rippled around me. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, watching me like a clown. They, like Julian, thought I was just playing games with the divorce. I took a deep breath, and amidst their mocking expressions, pulled the divorce papers from my bag and handed them to Julian. “Here are the divorce papers. I’ve already signed them.” Instantly, the room fell silent. Everyone looked at Julian. He casually took the papers, flipped through them a few times, and sneered, “Audrey, you’ve really gone to a lot of trouble to put on this act. You even brought props.” He lit a cigarette, letting the ash fall onto the divorce papers. His eyes half-closed, he continued coldly, “But what makes you think these manipulative tactics would work on me? Are you overestimating yourself?” The paper was burned with several holes from the ash. My emotions burned away with it, leaving only disappointment. The bond we once promised to cherish forever had finally withered, leaving only torment. The Julian who swore he’d be good to me for life had died a long time ago. I closed my eyes, weary. Just as I was about to explain, Chloe spoke up. “Audrey, as a woman, I understand your jealousy of not being loved. But isn’t threatening divorce a bit too extreme? You’re just making Julian uncomfortable.” Julian chuckled softly at her words, pulling Chloe tightly into his embrace. His tone, when he spoke to her, was starkly gentle, a complete contrast to how he spoke to me. “What do you think Audrey is? She’s not even worth my attention. But if she wants to play, I’ll play along one more time.” Julian’s tone shifted. He tossed the divorce papers into the trash, his eyes on me cold and dismissive. “You want a divorce? Fine. But you’ll leave with nothing.” He leaned back casually on the sofa, his eyes filled with certainty. Certain that a money-loving woman like me would, as always, humble myself, apologize, and cry, begging him not to divorce me. But the next second, I agreed without hesitation. Julian froze slightly, narrowing his eyes, scrutinizing me. He seemed to be trying to see how long I could keep up the act. But I was tired of fighting him. I simply said, “Draft up new divorce papers and send them to me,” and turned to leave. However, Julian gave a signal, and two or three men blocked the exit. He said in a low voice, “Who said you could leave? If you’re going to act so high and mighty, then don’t drag it out. Everything you’re wearing, I bought. If you have so much integrity, then take it all off. Once you’re naked, you can go.” I froze, staring at Julian in disbelief. He watched me mockingly, playing with his lighter. “What? Regretting it now?” “Fine. Just get down on your knees and beg my sweet little darling for forgiveness. Once she’s happy, I might be merciful and let bygones be bygones.” He leaned over and kissed Chloe’s lips, a doting, gentle coaxing. My nails dug into my palms. I stood there, eyes downcast, biting my lower lip until I tasted blood. Seeing my hesitation, the men around Julian started nudging each other, yelling at me. “Don’t you want a divorce? Then stop playing coy, just strip! We’ve already seen everything anyway.” “She’d never actually do it! She’s just being stubborn, trying to force Julian to break up with Chloe. But she clearly overestimated herself and screwed up. Now, she’s got no choice but to beg.” “Serves her right! Audrey, if you can’t let go of Julian’s money, just apologize already. You’re wasting our time.” A metallic taste filled my mouth. I clenched my fists, looked up at Julian, and said each word distinctly, “Fine. I’ll strip.”

The atmosphere stiffened. Julian’s face darkened. Before anyone could react, I had already taken off my coat. Underneath, I was wearing only a slip dress. As my trembling hands tugged at the straps to slide it down, the lewd, excited stares of the men around me glued themselves to my body. It made me sick to my stomach. Everyone was eagerly watching the show, but Julian’s gaze grew colder and colder. Soon, I was down to just my bra and underwear. My fingers clutched the straps tightly, and I stopped for a long moment, making no further move. Julian watched, then finally let out a laugh, as if to say, *I knew it*. “What? Not stripping anymore? If I’m not mistaken, even the lingerie you’re wearing, I paid for it.” My heart felt heavy and bitter. I couldn’t believe he was truly pushing me this far. But when a person is at rock bottom, they often develop a “nothing left to lose” mentality. I gently closed my eyes, as if making a decision, and unfastened one of my bra straps. As the strap slid down, a glass flew through the air, hitting my shoulder with a sharp thud! I let out a soft cry. A red welt quickly appeared on my fair skin, and the drink from the glass spilled onto my bra. Julian’s eyes, dark as ink, fixed on me. He spoke coldly. “Audrey, you are truly shameless.” “What? Did I help you discover a new side of yourself, and now you’re so desperate, you can’t wait to seduce men?” Maybe it was my imagination, but even though Julian didn’t look angry, I heard a hint of suppressed fury in his voice. But he should have known that I had lost all shame eight years ago. In all our years of marriage, he had brought different women home every month, just to humiliate me. He did everything imaginable right in front of me, the sounds of their passion echoing in my ears 1086 times. But I still routinely prepared the bed for him, and cleaned up the glaring mess left behind. Because I felt I owed him, felt that reaching this point was my fault. So I foolishly tried to compensate and win back that brief love with my repeated appeasements and concessions. And now, for Chloe, he had sold my intimate photos. I had no face left to lose. I fought back tears, my voice hoarse. “Are you satisfied now? Can we get divorced?” I stared at Julian stubbornly, but he didn’t answer. “Audrey, I’m out of patience for your act. Your clumsy performance is truly sickening.” I felt a weariness in my heart. Julian still didn’t believe me. I sighed, forced to emphasize again, “Julian, I’m not lying to you. I really want to divorce you.” But Julian looked at me as if he’d heard the funniest joke, a sinister, malicious smile playing on his lips. “Do you really dare to divorce me?” “Once you leave with nothing, your father, who’s buried under a mountain of debt, will have his fingers chopped off. And can you afford the medical bills for your mother, who’s barely clinging to life with medication?” “Or perhaps our seemingly filial Audrey is planning to let them both die, so she can live it up on their life insurance?” My heart trembled. The twenty million dollars borrowed from the Davies family was actually only a third of what was needed to pay off our debts. So I chose to invest it to grow the money. And just yesterday, I had paid off all of the Miller family’s debts, and even had thirty million more to return to the Davies family. But Julian never paid attention to any of this. He stubbornly clung to the belief that I had taken the Davies family’s money. I had intended to tell him this good news, but now, I saw no point. Seeing my silence, Julian assumed I was feeling guilty. This only fueled his interest. “Oh, right. I think I’ve been too far-sighted with my considerations. What you should be worrying about right now is how you’ll get them out of here alive without my help.” Them? I froze, still trying to process what Julian meant, when the bodyguard pulled back the room’s curtains. With just one glance, through the glass, I saw a small auction happening in the center of the downstairs floor. And my white-haired parents were being shamefully held down in their seats by a group of bodyguards, forced to watch my private videos displayed as auction items on the stage! The shameful videos played on a loop, over and over again. I saw my parents’ faces, streaming with tears. In that moment, I felt like I was walking on thin ice, my every breath trembling.

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Everyone knew A-list actor Liam and rising star Scarlett were smitten with each other. He spent her birthdays with her, showered her with gifts, and protected her career in Hollywood. Their romance was an open secret, just waiting for them to make it official. Until my private blog was dug up, filled with my sweet daily life with Liam. In an instant, the internet exploded with insults: “Where did this wild hen come from? Not famous, just chasing clout.” “Delusional fangirl, back off! Get lost!” But then Liam commented on my post: “Willow, please come back. Can we start over?” I can’t go back, Liam. I’m already dead. [June 24, 2024, Sunny. Liam, I don’t like the gift you gave me for our tenth wedding anniversary. I’m still mad. It’ll take ten kisses to make it up to me.] It was a necklace, from one of my favorite niche designers. I loved her philosophy. She said things weren’t meaningful unless they were one-of-a-kind. So she only ever made one of each piece, just one, absolutely irreplaceable. I’d always wanted a piece of her work. I once showed Liam a bracelet, telling him how much I loved it. He rested his chin in his hand, gazing at me tenderly. “Your husband will buy it for you. Whatever my Willow desires, I’ll get it for her.” The memory was still so vivid, yet today, he’d given me a necklace. Not the bracelet I’d been dreaming of. Disappointment gnawed at my already upset stomach, and the pain made me irritable. I put down the necklace, looked into his eyes, and asked, “Why isn’t it the bracelet?” His expression faltered for a second, but he quickly covered it. “I’m sorry, Willow,” he said with a regretful tone. “I got there too late. That bracelet was already sold.” “This necklace is beautiful too. You’ll look especially stunning wearing it.” I stared into his feigned calm eyes, and a bitter smile touched my lips. Liam. Liam. I never wear necklaces. Had he forgotten? After everything that happened, how could I ever dare to wear a necklace? That night, Liam held me in bed. He softly kissed the back of my neck, as if showering me with endless affection. “Willow, happy tenth wedding anniversary.” In the darkness, I gave a mocking smirk. Liam, today isn’t our tenth wedding anniversary. Yesterday was.

I knew where that bracelet went. A photo of its owner wearing it was sitting quietly in my phone. The sender had no name, but I knew exactly who she was. Scarlett, the popular rising star, my husband’s on-screen ‘ship’. They’d played a couple in a TV drama that went viral, making them incredibly famous. Now they were filming a movie together again. She’d added me on SnapChat a year ago and had been sending me messages ever since. Showing me just how good my husband was to her. He’d patiently explain every line to her when she struggled, staying up late to rehearse scenes. At networking events, he’d always step in, ensuring she was never pressured to drink. He connected her with acclaimed directors, helping her climb from an unknown indie actress to the trending starlet she is today. She never missed an opportunity to share every sweet detail between them, sending me everything, no matter how small. Until yesterday. Yesterday was my and Liam’s tenth wedding anniversary, and also Scarlett’s birthday. Liam didn’t come home. He went to celebrate with her. That night, I received another message from her. It was a photo. A bracelet with an antique, distinctive design hung on her slender wrist, unforgettable. It was the very bracelet Liam had promised to get for me. [Sister, don’t you think this bracelet is beautiful?] [Liam gave it to me.] [I just mentioned it casually, and he gave it to me without a second thought.] [I don’t know what to do with him, he’s going to spoil me rotten if he keeps spoiling me like this.] I didn’t reply. I never replied to her messages, but she kept sending them religiously for a year. Maybe she was certain I’d see them. And I always did. I watched my own husband grow closer to another woman, showering her with care and pouring his heart into her. I used to brush off Scarlett’s messages. Did she know what Liam and I had been through? We’d been married for ten years, our lives intertwined, shaping each other’s existence. He pulled me out of a bleak childhood, promising to love me forever. I thought Liam and I would stay strong, no matter what. After all, in this vast world, we had only each other. I never imagined that after only ten years, his affections would begin to drift. He started noticing other paths, other companions.

[August 19, 2024, Cloudy. Liam sent me a dress – a super dramatic, backless style. He said he wanted me to wear it for him. He’s such a tease.] Liam had his assistant send me the dress. It was very sexy, showing a huge expanse of my back, completely impractical for everyday wear. Though the characters I played were often the “brawny but brainless,” seductive vixen types, that wasn’t my personal style. Liam called me, patiently coaxing, “Come on, Willow, sweetie, I miss you. Please wear it and come see me, okay?” He pestered me for ages, and I still couldn’t bring myself to refuse. I agreed. He said he’d be finished with filming late, so I should meet him at Hotel Room 1407 at midnight. His excited instructions reminded me of when we were eighteen. We’d just started college, and we’d only been dating for a year. He was always hugging and kissing me, rambling about when we’d turn legal, how he was about to explode from holding back. I could feel it – his words, his actions, his gaze, even his very soul, yearned for me. I thrived on that yearning. It made me feel like my existence had meaning. It was my reason for living. Liam was Willow’s reason for living, from eighteen to thirty-two. Always. At midnight, I wore the dress and knocked on the door of 1407. Instead of Liam, the door was opened by Director Miller, a strange, older man. We stared at each other for a beat. Then, his gaze turned overtly lecherous, scanning me up and down. Liam appeared from behind me, pulling me to his side as he spoke to Director Miller. “My apologies, Director, my assistant must have gotten the room number wrong.” Back in Liam’s room, he held me through the night, our embrace intimate and desperate. Half-asleep, I heard his faint whisper: “I’m sorry, Willow.” Soon, I understood where that apology came from. The older man in 1407 was the director of their movie. The night before, he’d called Scarlett to his room under the pretense of “discussing scenes,” attempting to take advantage of her. But an unknown paparazzo had secretly snapped photos of her entering the room.

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My Vicious Daughter Pushed Me To My Death. Now, I’m Back. I was pushed into the water by my daughter. In sheer terror, I desperately clutched at the weeds along the bank. But my daughter stomped on my hands and sneered, “Idiot, I only want Dad. You’re just a tool.” I was drowned alive. My soul floated in the air, My daughter, arm in arm with my ex-husband, was all smiles at a banquet, completely oblivious to my twenty years of raising her. When I opened my eyes again, I was back on the day of my divorce! “Daughter, pull Mom up!” I pleaded with Tiffany, half my body submerged in the water. She crouched down, a mocking look on her face. “Who’s your daughter? All you do is control me, never caring about my feelings. I’d be relieved if you just died!” I was thunderstruck. For Tiffany’s future, I had poured my heart and soul into it, sacrificing everything… Under my tireless and painstaking guidance, Tiffany got into a top-tier university. At her graduation party, she told me she had a surprise and asked me to wait for her by the lake. As I waited eagerly, she suddenly pushed me in. I struggled for my life. She stomped on my arm with her sharp heel. “Go to hell!” I plunged heavily into the water. River water surged into my nostrils. In the last moments of fading consciousness, through the murky water, I saw my daughter standing meekly beside my ex-husband, watching coldly as my breathing stopped. I regretted it. I gave up everything, and all my sacrifices had been for nothing. If I could do it over, I would never allow myself to be humiliated again.

“Sign it now!” Opening my eyes again, I was back on the day David Parker asked me for a divorce. I had married David when he had nothing. It was thanks to me that he climbed the corporate ladder. At home, I handled everything, so he didn’t have to worry about a thing. After Tiffany was born, I poured all my energy into her. I dedicated myself to her studies, never daring to relax for a moment. With my efforts, Tiffany made it into a prestigious high school. But then, David asked me for a divorce. That’s when I found out he’d been cheating for years. The other woman was heavily pregnant, and David only thought to divorce me then, to make space for her. In my previous life, I had resolutely given up all my assets, only asking for Tiffany’s custody. After that, I focused even more intensely on guiding Tiffany, just so she could make me proud. Who knew, Tiffany sneered at my efforts; she was fed up with my strictness. After she got into a top university, she didn’t hesitate to poison me. Thinking about that, a fire ignited in my heart. I looked at David coldly and said, “A divorce is fine, but the house goes to me, and the child goes to you.” David froze at my words. He had planned to threaten me with Tiffany’s custody, expecting me to give up the house due to my devotion to her. “No way!” David immediately rejected it. I said calmly, “Custody can go to me too, but this house still has to be mine. Don’t worry, I won’t ask for any child support, and the house will be transferred to my name immediately.” David was still hesitant, so I kindly reminded him, “Have you made up your mind? Your woman outside is due in two or three months, right? I heard it’s the son you’ve always wanted. Can you really bear for your son to be born a bastard?” David gritted his teeth and made up his mind. “Fine.”

David and I smoothly signed the divorce papers. After David left, I opened the door and saw Tiffany staring blankly at her homework. Seeing me push the door open, she moved her eyes away in disgust. “I’ll study, just don’t come in and bother me.” In my last life, Tiffany had always had this attitude, but I never cared about her harsh tone, still selflessly dedicating myself to her. This life, I absolutely refuse to do such a thankless task. I said calmly, “I came in to tell you that your father and I are divorced, and you’re coming with me.” Tiffany’s face showed even more disdain. “Why do you want me? Why can’t I go with Dad? You only ever control me, oppress me!” I smiled faintly. “Your father would rather give up this house than have your custody.” “You’re lying!” Tiffany glared at me furiously. I yawned. “Believe it or not, but don’t worry, from today on, I won’t be controlling you. Do whatever you want.” “Really?” Tiffany said suspiciously. I ignored her, and she excitedly threw her books into the air. “Screw studying!” I returned to my room, savoring the joy of surviving and starting to plan my future. I would no longer waste my youth and money on Tiffany, that ungrateful viper. This life, I would live only for myself.

“Tiffany Hayes’ mother, we’ve noticed Tiffany has been hanging out with a dropout boy recently, often skipping classes and staying out all night. Could you please come to the school when you’re free?” The homeroom teacher’s call came in a hurry. I knew that hooligan. He was uneducated, only knew how to play online games, a real bad boy. In my last life, Tiffany was attracted to him and even tried to elope with him. I went to great lengths to get her back, firmly prevented them from meeting, and sought help from various departments to barely cut off their connection. That thug held a grudge against me and retaliated against me behind my back more than once. Now, I had no desire to meddle. “Okay, Ms. Goldberg, I’ll have a good talk with her.” I casually brushed her off. Ms. Goldberg was stunned for a while. She couldn’t understand why I, who usually doted on my daughter, now seemed so indifferent. “Tiffany’s grades have dropped significantly. She was a promising student for a top-tier university. You parents really need to pay more attention.” Ms. Goldberg was still trying to persuade me earnestly. She was a very responsible and good teacher, but in my last life, her concern and intervention caused Tiffany and the thug to resent her. Later, the thug cut her brake lines, and she almost died in a car crash. “Ms. Goldberg, please don’t get involved in this. She’ll be an adult soon; I can’t control her.” I also tried to persuade her. “You… sigh.” Seeing that I wouldn’t interfere, Ms. Goldberg helplessly hung up the phone. I drove to my yoga class and happened to see Tiffany, who had skipped school, sitting on the back of the thug’s blaring motorcycle. Seeing me, Tiffany’s eyes were full of ridicule. “Why are you here? Didn’t you say you wouldn’t bother me anymore? You’re still so hypocritical and annoying!” I rolled my eyes at her. “You’re overthinking it. I’m going to yoga class. You can hang out with whoever you want, it’s none of my business.” “Good, you’d better stick to your word!” Tiffany made a rude face at me and sped off with the thug.

A couple of months later, my good-for-nothing ex-husband showed up again. “Alice Miller, how are you raising your daughter? Tiffany’s pregnant!” David roared at me. I just said, “Oh.” “So, what do you suggest we do?” David angrily pointed at me. “Go take her to get an abortion right now! She’s not even an adult, hasn’t even gotten into college, and she’s pregnant! How can you be a mother?” I retorted, sticking out my neck. “She’s your daughter too, why are you blaming everything on me?” In the midst of our argument, Tiffany came home. She glared at me, then linked her arm through David’s. “Dad, are you here to pick me up?” David’s face was very unnatural. He immediately started scolding Tiffany. “You rotten girl! How dare you get pregnant at such a young age! Go to the hospital with your mother and get rid of it!” Tiffany’s resentful eyes shot to me. I immediately raised my hands. “I have no objections!” “You!” David glared at me, gritting his teeth. Tiffany pulled David’s sleeve, looking pitiful. “Dad, please take me away. This old woman is driving me crazy! You don’t know, Jax Riley is the boss’s son! He said as long as I have the baby, he’ll give me five million dollars!” “How much?” David’s eyes lit up. Tiffany continued to boast proudly. “Yes, Dad! Jax said his dad making him suffer was a test. As long as I have the baby, his rich dad will give me whatever I want! Unlike some vicious old women who only control me. She can just wait to die alone at home.” The father and daughter mocked me without hesitation. I sneered inwardly: only an idiot would believe such a clumsy lie. In my last life, a couple of days after Tiffany got into college, Jax Riley was exposed as a con artist and thrown into jail. “In that case, I won’t hinder your path to riches. Please leave.” I gave them the boot. David squinted at me. “Alice Miller, don’t you dare regret this. When you’re crying and begging me, I won’t give you a single penny. Tiffany, let’s go with Dad.” “Okay, Dad, don’t mind this bad woman.” After sending off that pair of dreamers, I started working on my project transfer application. In my previous life, to spend more time with Tiffany, I had given up many opportunities for promotion. Now, I would fight for my own glorious future.

Without David and Tiffany bothering me, my life was going very smoothly. Because of her pregnancy, Tiffany was expelled from her prestigious high school. She didn’t care at all and simply moved in with Jax Riley at David’s and his new wife’s house. David’s new wife, Ashley, was naturally not happy about it. Tiffany and Ashley fought constantly. The worst time, Tiffany actually pushed the heavily pregnant Ashley down the stairs. David was in a panic. After rushing Ashley to the hospital, the fully formed baby boy had no heartbeat. David’s dream of a son was shattered. Furious, he hit Tiffany. Jax Riley, seeing his girlfriend get hit, naturally wouldn’t stand for it. He and David got into a brawl at the hospital, completely disregarding the onlookers. Eventually, Tiffany promised to give David and Ashley a million dollars in compensation after the baby was born. Only then did the confrontation grudgingly end. Listening to the gossip from an acquaintance, I felt utterly refreshed. What could be more satisfying than seeing your enemies suffer? I thought their lives would continue in such a chaotic fashion. But then, a change occurred. “Mom, please help me!” I was on a business trip when Tiffany’s call came in, a rare occurrence. “What’s wrong?” I responded indifferently. Tiffany’s voice on the other end of the line was panicked: “Last night, a group of police officers suddenly came to our house. They said Jax Riley is a con artist who swindled hundreds of thousands of dollars! That’s when I found out that ‘boss’s son’ and ‘five million dollars’ were all lies! My dad and that hateful mistress went crazy and beat me. I’ve run away, Mom, please save me.”

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My boyfriend’s sister tied me to a rag doll with an empathic link. She deliberately dunked the doll in water, making me feel like I’d been drenched, then spread rumors that I had a messy private life, ruining my reputation. Next, she threw the doll into a bathtub full of water. Instantly, I felt myself dragged underwater, gasping for breath, my chest heavy, like I was about to explode. Because of her twisted games, I lost a third important client. I confronted my boyfriend, begging him to rein in his sister, who he spoiled rotten. But he just scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re telling me you can feel a toy’s pain? Are you losing your mind?” Then, right in front of me, he lit the doll on fire. He stared at me, his face full of mockery. “It’s burned to ashes. How are you still standing here? What kind of pathetic act is this?” The pain was so intense, my nails dug into my palms, and one snapped clean off. But deep down, I felt a strange relief—she hadn’t won. I was still alive. Yet, in the dead of night, that familiar suffocating feeling returned. In my dream, I was choked to death. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to that day—the exact moment the empathic link began. This time, I’d strike first. Clutching a knife, I headed straight for that malicious sister. If I was going to die either way, I might as well drag her to hell with me.

“Chloe, Chloe!” My colleague’s shout snapped me awake. My head still felt fuzzy. I looked up and realized I was slumped over my desk. I… I was back? In my past life, I somehow, unknowingly, became bound to that rag doll Jake had given to his sister, Luna, through an “empathic link” system. That girl, banking on her fragile mental state, would take out all her frustrations on the doll whenever things didn’t go her way. She’d pinch it, throw it, dunk it, cut its hair—anything you could imagine. But all that pain? I was the one who suffered it. Random aches and pains were a constant. Worse, sometimes I had no idea what she was doing, then suddenly felt wet—my dress would have mysterious damp spots. My deals kept collapsing, one after another, and clients started calling me unprofessional. Someone even posted on the company’s internal forum, claiming my private life was a mess and I couldn’t control myself. When Jake heard the rumors, he stormed up to me, demanding answers. I tried to steady my breathing, desperate to explain the whole empathic link situation. But he wouldn’t listen. He snatched the doll, which Luna always kept close, and tossed it straight into the fireplace. “Chloe, I know you’re jealous of how much I care for Luna. I get it. But you can’t make up such a ridiculous story to hurt her.” “You say you have a connection with the doll? Well, it’s burned to ashes now. How are you still standing here, perfectly fine?” I was in too much pain to speak, my entire body feeling as if it had been set on fire. But deep down, I felt a strange relief—finally, finally free. That night, though, that familiar feeling returned. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in the past. It was the very day Luna ruined my first important collaboration. I silently pulled open my drawer, my gaze hardening as I looked at the proposal I’d spent several sleepless nights perfecting. “Ms. Miller, when are the clients expected to arrive?” My colleague glanced at the time and held up two fingers. “Four o’clock, so about two hours.” I nodded, quickly reviewed the proposal, and told her, “If I’m not back in two hours, don’t wait for me. Just start the meeting.” With that, I grabbed my bag and left. These two hours were my chance at salvation. To figure out what Luna was up to, I went to a grocery store and bought a fruit knife. On the way, I SnapChatted Jake: “Are you with Luna right now?” He replied with a “Yep,” and I hailed a cab, heading straight for his place. If I could get the truth, great. If not… then I wouldn’t go to hell alone. About a mile from Jake’s house, that familiar torment began to surface again. I glanced down at my phone, my heart sinking. Something was wrong. It wasn’t even three o’clock yet. Why… It shouldn’t be happening this early.

A familiar dampness spread across my lap, making me feel sticky and incredibly uncomfortable. The cab driver peered at me in the rearview mirror, his lips twisting into an unsettling smirk. “Looks like you’re in a hurry, sweetheart. Rushing to see your boyfriend, are we?” The moment he said that, my heart lurched, and I almost stopped breathing. All those nasty rumors from my past life echoed in my ears. More than the inexplicable empathic link, it was the slut-shaming rumors—the baseless accusations—that truly broke me. Even the man I loved most had questioned me, his face twisted in rage, demanding if I’d betrayed him. How could I describe the feeling of being abandoned by the entire world? The moment I stepped out of the cab, the dampness suddenly vanished. Before I could even sigh in relief, my stomach clenched violently, and a sharp pain ripped through me. It felt like someone was twisting my intestines, wringing them out in agonizing waves. Gritting my teeth, I staggered to Jake’s front door and pounded on it. Luna opened it, her head bowed, clutching a rag doll tightly. She was twisting the doll’s head and feet in opposite directions, like wringing out a wet towel. Sweat beaded on my forehead from the pain. I lunged forward, snatched the doll, and forced its limbs back into place. My body instantly relaxed, and the pain slowly receded. “What are you doing?!” Jake suddenly appeared from the corner, his face grim. He glared at me fiercely, then quickly pulled the distraught Luna into his arms, comforting her. “There, there, Luna, don’t be scared. Big brother will get your doll back.” He reached out to grab the doll from my hands. When I wouldn’t let go, he suddenly raised his hand and slapped me across the face. My cheek stung, but I ignored it. Clutching the doll tightly, my voice trembled. “Jake, please… make Luna stop. Please, let her stop hurting me…” “If she keeps doing this, I’m really going to die…” “I can’t take it anymore…” I cried out, but he remained completely unmoved. Jake first frowned at the trembling Luna in his arms, then chuckled. “Chloe, how long are you going to keep this up?” “I get it, you don’t like me looking after Luna. But she’s my own sister!” “I can find another girlfriend, but I only have one sister!” He finished speaking, roughly pried my fingers open, took the doll, and gently placed it back in Luna’s arms. “Don’t worry, Luna. Your big brother won’t believe a crazy woman like her.” I clearly saw Luna’s lips subtly curl upwards, a cold, sinister smile flickering across her face. She stared at me, then suddenly lifted the doll high and slammed it hard onto the floor. My body instantly felt like it had plummeted from a great height, my internal organs jarring out of place. An agonizing crushing pain shot through my limbs, yet my skin remained perfectly intact. I forced my eyes open and saw her forcefully stomping on the doll’s arms and legs. “Luna… stop… please…” The pain was so intense I couldn’t speak a full sentence, only managing disjointed pleas. But hearing me, she seemed to grow even more excited. Perhaps tired of playing, she picked up the doll and dangled it in front of me, swaying it back and forth. “What’s my dear future sister-in-law mumbling about? I can’t quite catch that, sweetie.” “Could it be… you’re jealous of how good my brother is to me?” She stared at my pained expression like a predator fixated on its prey. “Sometimes, I actually envy you. You suffer so much, and yet you’re still alive.” She leaned in close to my ear, whispering. I shivered, almost blacking out. She… she knew everything! I scrambled backward in terror, accidentally bumping my backpack. The fruit knife inside clattered onto the floor. Luna and I both froze, our eyes simultaneously fixed on the blade. I reached for it— But she was faster. She bit down hard on the doll’s arm. A sharp pain flared in my right arm, and I flinched. In that split second, she snatched the knife.

Slowly, she moved the knife back and forth across my face, as if sizing up her prey. That feeling of being utterly scrutinized sent cold sweat trickling down my spine. Before I could even react, Jake was already there. His face was etched with worry. He stepped over my fallen body, heading straight for Luna. He cooed to her softly for a few moments before gently taking the fruit knife from her hand. “What if you cut yourself! This is a real knife, so dangerous!” He spoke, tenderly pulling Luna into his embrace, without even a glance at me. And there I lay on the floor, gasping for breath, while he actually chuckled. “Chloe, didn’t you always say this doll was you?” “If Luna tore this doll to shreds, would you go down with it?” They were both insane, one more twisted than the other. Listening to them laughing together, I bit down hard on my teeth and began to crawl, inch by inch, towards the door. There was still some time before my last death. I refused to believe I couldn’t find a way to break this curse! By the time I reached the office, it was already four in the afternoon. The moment Ms. Miller saw me, she rushed over and grabbed my hand. “Chloe! Your proposal was brilliant! The client signed on the spot and specifically requested you to lead the project!” “Everyone has seen your hard work these past few days. The boss even said you’re getting a promotion and a raise!” Hearing that the deal was done, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. Truth be told, from the day I was reborn, I’d been planning my escape. On one hand, I was probing Luna, trying to understand how that connection worked; on the other, I had proactively pushed the project forward. Sure enough, with Luna’s attention diverted, the project landed successfully. The moment I followed Ms. Miller into the office, confetti cannons burst overhead. “Congratulations, Chloe, on landing such a massive deal!” “Congratulations, Chloe—” But my colleagues’ congratulations were cut short when someone gasped, staring at my skirt hem. “Chloe, why is your skirt wet? Where did you get that water?” My heart clenched. I looked down, and the hem of my skirt was already soaked. Then, that familiar icy, damp sensation rapidly spread through my entire body. I had no time to explain. I grabbed my bag and bolted for the restroom. I remembered clearly: Luna would soon use the excuse of bathing the doll to dunk it underwater. That suffocating feeling had once made me completely lose control in front of clients, leaving me paralyzed and utterly humiliated. At the time, my colleagues thought something was wrong and rushed me to the hospital, but all the tests came back normal. Sure enough, the moment I locked the stall door, the sensation of drowning swept over me like a tide. I felt like a leaf adrift in water, clinging desperately to the doorknob. It was as if only by doing so could I grasp a tiny bit of support. I truly felt like that doll, icy water gushing into my mouth and nose, piercing my throat like needles. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed by a powerful hand, constantly compressing, threatening to crush them to powder. Just as my consciousness began to fade, the doll was finally pulled out of the water. I gasped, sucking in a huge breath, coming back to life. As I was still panting, my phone suddenly rang. It was Luna. I hung up immediately, but my head felt like it was being shoved underwater again, the suffocation returning, then instantly vanishing. The phone rang again. My eyes red, I stared intensely at the vibrating name on the screen, finally pressing answer. “Future sister-in-law~” Her voice was chilling, like it was coming from underground. “Did your afternoon project go well?”

She was convinced I’d made a complete fool of myself this time. Just looking at the phone screen, I could feel her barely contained glee. I pretended to fall for it, playing along with Luna’s question. “Are you really so set on hating me? What do you even gain by making things like this?” “If I sign this big contract, I’ll have money to help you get treatment. Wouldn’t that be better?” She scoffed, her tone sinister. “Why are you so much like me? And you stole my favorite brother… As long as you…” Perhaps she was too smug; she’d said too much. Realizing she’d slipped up, she immediately smashed the doll into the water on the other end of the line. “If you don’t end up disgraced, how can you ever make up for all the suffering I’ve endured these past years?” The splashing water was the last sound I heard. Then, it was as if someone had choked me, my breath cut off, and I sank into darkness. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in a hospital bed, my colleagues gathered around. Facing their worried gazes, I swallowed, struggling to say, “I’m fine, just really tired.” The doctor stood by, nodding. “All tests are normal. You probably just passed out from exhaustion.” Right, what else could I say? I couldn’t exactly tell them I’d drowned with a doll and actually felt myself die, could I? After my colleagues left, I lay in bed, lost in thought. Then, Jake’s call came in. The moment I answered, he unleashed a torrent of shouts. “Chloe! Where are you? Get over here right now!” “Luna told me everything! You provoked her, that’s why her condition worsened!” “I must have been blind, to think you were this kind of person! Just wait, I’m going to let everyone know how fake you are!” I didn’t get a word in before he hung up. A few minutes later, a colleague forwarded a post to me. The title was suggestive, the content insinuating, asking in every line what kind of scandalous things I’d been up to. Even my manager called, urging me to step away from my current project and take some time to recover. I took a few deep breaths, my fingers trembling as I clicked on the post. It was Jake, of course, posted anonymously. In his words, I was a scheming, jealous, insidious character. Even the collaborative project I’d fought tooth and nail to secure was twisted into something obtained by improper means. To be stabbed in the back by the person I trusted most—that pain cut deeper than any knife. All the grievances from my past and present lives welled up, and for the first time, I felt utterly useless. Tears streamed down my face, wetting my pillow. In that moment, I truly considered just ending it all. Anything would be better than being Luna’s toy. I reached for the razor blade I’d hidden under my pillow, about to act. Suddenly, my mind reeled, as if struck by lightning. I understood! Everything became clear! How Luna had created that empathic link between me and her doll! I furiously threw the blade into the trash, vowing never to waste another second on these rotten people. I immediately called a car to take me to a specific place. When I emerged from there, a cold smile touched my lips. Luna, it was exactly as I suspected. I could distinctly feel that the strange connection had been severed. I felt like a massive weight had been lifted, completely refreshed. Just then, Jake’s FaceTime call popped up. I let it ring, ignoring it. When enough time had passed, I slowly, deliberately answered. “What do you want?” “Chloe!” He roared as if he would explode. “What did you do?! Luna suddenly started throwing up blood!” I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Jake, you’re not making any sense. I’m not a god; how could I make Luna suddenly throw up blood?” “When you take her to the hospital, you should get your head checked too.”

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My wife, Seraphina—a woman who commanded respect, a true queenpin in her own right—always insisted on having her “sisters” over for dinner. “That’s what makes a family,” she’d always say. Watching me serve a table piled high with food, one of her friends grinned. “Our Arthur is just *so* perfect, isn’t he? Always so attentive, always holding down the fort like a true patriarch.” My expression remained unchanged, but I casually shot back, half-joking. “Oh? What, is there some stingy ‘kept man’ out there I don’t know about?” Her friends froze, a flicker of panic in their eyes. But Seraphina just laughed, looping her arm through mine and nuzzling me playfully. “Don’t listen to their nonsense, darling. Besides you, who else in this world could ever be my husband?” Seeing her act so nonchalant, I smiled. But as I turned away, I dialed a number. “Dad, Seraphina Caldwell is cheating. Make sure she rots in a prison cell.” My father on the other end of the line was silent for three seconds. “Arthur, are you sure? Seraphina, she…” I pulled the wedding ring from my left hand. The diamond dug into my palm, a painful, biting reminder. “We’ve been married for ten years. Every brooch she owns was custom-made for her in Italy by me.” “But the one she’s wearing today is a cheap plastic flower. Dad, do you really think I’m mistaken?” “You know I won’t tolerate any disrespect. Send over all the evidence of her smuggling and money laundering over the years. And while you’re at it, get me the best lawyer. I want a divorce.” My father’s voice hardened with anger. “Alright.” Half an hour later, an encrypted file landed on my phone. I clicked open the first picture: a fresh-faced boy in a crisp white shirt, his arm around a woman’s shoulder, smiling shyly. On the wrist peeking from his sleeve was a wolf head tattoo, identical to Seraphina’s. Without a moment’s hesitation, I drove straight to the company. Minutes later, a young man with faded, well-worn jeans and dark hair ran out. I glanced at his work badge: Julian Hayes. The moment he saw me, his face went white with fear. He instinctively hid his hand behind his back. But I’d already seen it: a Swiss custom-made watch. Last year, on my birthday, I received a Swiss credit card statement. One watch worth three million, one necklace worth fifty thousand. The necklace was mine. The watch was on his wrist. I scoffed, getting straight to the point. “Mr. Hayes, your wife has similar taste to mine, it seems. Even the custom-made watch designs are identical.” Julian trembled at my words, his lips parting and closing for a full minute before he stammered out. “It… it’s… it’s true… maybe all women have similar taste.” His fingers, clutching at the hem of his shirt, were turning white. “Alright, drop the act.” “You’re her ‘kept man,’ aren’t you?” Seeing me lay it all bare, Julian trembled even harder, a panicked mess. “Please don’t misunderstand, it was just… Ms. Caldwell fainted from low blood sugar again, and I just helped her out once.” “Ms. Caldwell’s friends thought I was very attentive, so they were just joking around.” “I’m truly sorry if I caused any misunderstanding.” With that, he even exaggeratedly bowed ninety degrees to me. He looked like a poor, wronged college student. If I hadn’t seen the manipulative ways he’d charmed Seraphina, I might have actually fallen for it. Half a month ago, he posted a video on social media. A woman was swiping her card at a car dealership, next to a Porsche. His caption: [Wanted a new car, and my lady came through with her card.] At that very moment, I was home, burning up with a fever until I passed out. I called Seraphina, asking her to take me to the hospital. She panicked for a split second, but then her voice turned hoarse, as if she was suppressing something. “Honey, I’ll send the housekeeper to take you. I have something urgent here I can’t leave.” An hour later, my fever had spiraled into pneumonia, and I was in the ER, fighting for my life. Meanwhile, he posted a photo lying in the car. The tattoo on the woman’s collarbone—my initials—was adorned with suggestive red marks. Caption: [Not only does my sugar mama treat me right, but she’s got a soft touch where it counts.] When Seraphina finally rushed to the hospital, her shirt buttons were still undone. She threw herself by my bedside, her eyes red-rimmed. Back then, I naively thought she was worried about me. But now, I knew it was nothing more than the phantom guilt of a woman fresh from her illicit affair. A wave of nausea washed over me. This man? This slimy kept man was worth Seraphina betraying me for? Too disgusted to watch his pitiful act any longer, I turned and walked away. But just as I got into my car, Seraphina called. The moment I answered, her voice was frantic. “Why did you suddenly decide to come to the office?”

“Why?” I started the car, perfectly composed, and shot back. “Just happened to have a contract to discuss, that’s all. Do you have something you’re afraid I’ll find out?” Seraphina seemed taken aback by my question. Her breath hitched. After a few seconds of silence, her voice suddenly softened, adopting her usual coaxing tone. “Honey, what are you talking about?” “I have nothing to hide from you. It’s just that my office is a mess, and if you were coming, I’d have someone clean up first.” “Besides, how could I ever betray you? You can check anything you want.” Hearing her, I felt a flicker of confusion. Julian hadn’t told her that I’d confronted him. I flipped through the evidence, listening to her flimsy excuses. Three gigabytes of data, every single day tied to Seraphina. Last Valentine’s Day, she claimed she was abroad on a business trip and couldn’t call. In reality, she was in the Arctic watching the aurora with Julian. When my mother was gravely ill, I called Seraphina over thirty times. She didn’t answer a single one. At that very moment, she was celebrating Julian’s birthday. “I believe you. But what about that watch?” Seeing me bring up the subject, Seraphina actually sounded relieved. Her voice leaned into the phone, deliberately making it sound intimate. “That watch? I fainted at the office, and Julian happened to be passing by. He helped me get to the hospital.” She paused, then continued. “He stayed with me all night, so I just gave him a watch as a thank-you. I forgot to tell you about it.” Forgot? She had quite the selective memory. Not only did she forget to tell me about the watch, she also conveniently forgot that they went to the hotel’s top-floor suite that very night. And stayed for three days and three nights. A cold laugh echoed in my mind. “He’s certainly attentive, isn’t he? Even washed and perfectly ironed the clothes you wore when you fainted, and returned them the next day.” Seraphina clearly faltered on the other end, her breath catching. Then she laughed it off again. “Oh, he really is! So meticulous, truly. Pays attention to every little thing.” “See? You’re always so suspicious, darling. My heart belongs only to you.” Her voice purred into the receiver, laced with a practiced tenderness. “Once I’m done with this busy period, I’ll take you to the Maldives for a makeup vacation, just the two of us, okay?” That soft, gentle tone used to melt my heart. Now, it only made my stomach churn. “Sounds good.” I gazed out at the passing neon lights, my voice as calm as if I were discussing the weather. “But you focus on your important business first. Don’t let me get in the way.” “Nothing is more important than being with you, darling.” Seraphina’s voice was tinged with eager flattery, but my heart grew colder and colder. It wasn’t just Seraphina’s betrayal that chilled me. It was the realization that they had been playing me for so long, right under my nose. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. I fought down the urge to confront Seraphina immediately. After a few perfunctory words, I hung up. Just then, Julian Hayes updated his social media again. The picture showed him in an intricately designed suit studded with diamonds, his eyes alight with triumph. “Another kept man came to cause trouble today, trying to climb his way up! But my lady, to make it up to me, is finally going to marry me!” “I just mentioned wanting a castle wedding, and she bought me an entire castle!” He smirked, the camera casually sweeping over a property deed. “And all these vineyards? She wants *me* to manage them!” “How could a humble person like me possibly manage them well! Luckily, my lady promised to come with me to stake my claim, so those old-timers won’t look down on me!” Seeing the property deed in the video, bearing my French name, pure rage surged through me. Those vineyards were my father’s gift to me for my coming-of-age. Seraphina was using *my* property to appease her kept man! Fine. They want to stake their claim? Then I’d be damned if I didn’t show up in person, the *real* owner of the vineyards, and see how they planned to do it!

I bought a ticket to France that very night. At the vineyard, old Alfred, the butler, looked surprised to see me. “Master Arthur, what brings you here? Didn’t you say you were lending the estate to Madam Seraphina for an event today? You even had all the family staff cleared out.” Hearing that, I felt my anger flare. Just as I was about to reply, Seraphina’s call came through. “Honey, I’m in a cross-country meeting right now. I’ll fly back to you as soon as I’m done.” Before I could respond, I faintly heard a sickly sweet male voice from her end. “Seraphina, do I look good in this?” The next second, Seraphina covered the phone and moved away. “Gotta go now, meeting’s starting.” Almost simultaneously, the vineyard’s ornate gates swung open. A dozen luxury cars pulled up to the fountain plaza. Countless unfamiliar guests were seated, and I found a discreet spot to sit as well. Once everything was ready, Julian Hayes emerged, dressed in a custom-tailored suit, beaming with an obnoxious, self-important swagger. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Julian Hayes, the new owner of this vineyard.” “My lady said that from now on, everything here—the wine, the castle, even every single grape in the vineyard—is mine to command!” “To celebrate, all wines are seventy percent off! Consider it a welcome gift from me!” Seventy percent off? He was certainly generous. The cheapest wine here cost over a million a bottle. Some were rare vintages that I’d think twice about selling, even to the British royal family! Old Alfred, who had watched me grow up, was seething with rage. “When did this vineyard become *his*?” “And Seraphina! She’s cheating on you, Master Arthur! Is she out of her mind?” Seeing Alfred about to storm out, I quickly shook my head. This wasn’t the time to expose them. I needed to wait for Seraphina to personally admit her relationship with Julian, then I would utterly ruin both of those despicable cheaters. Just then, the ornate gates opened again, and Seraphina walked in, dressed in a designer suit. Julian immediately wrapped an arm around her shoulder, grinning as he leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. “Seraphina, I told you this brand suited you best.” Seraphina’s eyes visibly stiffened, but she nodded, her face impassive. My rage, however, was about to ignite. The founder of that brand was a sworn enemy of my family. My grandfather had been framed by their schemes and had literally died of anger. Seraphina knew all about it. Yet now, she was publicly slapping me in the face. Just as I could no longer hold back and was about to storm out, Seraphina’s friends all swarmed around her. “Julian, our Seraphina just gifted you a vineyard worth hundreds of millions! Where else could you find such an amazing woman?” “From now on, this vineyard will belong to the Hayes family! How are you going to thank our Seraphina?” Amidst their laughter, Julian tightened his arm around Seraphina’s shoulder, his face radiating smug triumph. “Of course, I’ll thank my lady properly in bed~” His words were sickeningly suggestive. Seraphina, her face flushed, cast a coquettish glance at him. Pure fury consumed me. Just as I was about to say something, Mr. Davies, the vineyard manager, approached to serve wine and spoke, looking confused. “Belong to the Hayes family? Didn’t Madam Seraphina just borrow this estate from my young master?” At his words, the guests exchanged bewildered glances, whispering amongst themselves. “What’s going on?” “I only heard this vineyard belonged to Mrs. Caldwell’s husband, but isn’t her husband’s last name Lockhart?” “Wait, then who is this Mr. Hayes? Is he some kind of fake?” Mr. Davies’s face was already alight with anger. “Madam Seraphina, how could you do such a thing behind the young master’s back?” With that, he reached for his phone, intending to call me. The next second, Seraphina’s bodyguards swarmed forward, shoving Mr. Davies to his knees. Seraphina’s gaze swept coldly over the stunned crowd. “Shut his mouth. Let him learn the cost of reckless talk.” Her voice was low, yet it carried the brutal authority of a mob boss. The banquet hall fell silent in an instant. Seraphina didn’t even bat an eye, her fingertips idly tracing Julian’s face. “Julian is my *true* husband! Arthur Lockhart is nothing more than a servant in my household!” A servant? I nearly laughed at the sheer audacity. It seemed Seraphina had truly forgotten who had painstakingly elevated her to the position of a mob boss. If it hadn’t been for me, she’d still be being bullied and scavenging for scraps on the streets! I had toiled with her for ten years. I’d even taken two bullets to the chest for her. And my father helped her behind the scenes countless times. On the brink of death, all I could think about was how to pave the way for her. And in the end, in her mouth, I was just a “servant.” No one dared to challenge Seraphina, and they all quickly chimed in. “Oh, so that’s it! Mr. Caldwell’s husband is really too generous, letting a security guard use the Caldwell name to parade around, swindling people.” Someone even advised Julian. “Mr. Hayes, a security guard like that might try to seduce Mrs. Caldwell at any moment.” “You need to be careful! I think you should just fire him!” “With such evil intentions, he should be thrown into the sea to feed the fish!” Julian’s smug expression was impossible to hide. The manager’s face was ashen. As he was dragged away, he struggled desperately. “I want to see Mr. Arthur Lockhart! He’s Mrs. Caldwell’s real husband!” The guests’ faces contorted with disdain. “This security guard is truly cunning. Even the vineyard manager was fooled by him!” “Mrs. Caldwell, you can’t keep an ungrateful snake like that around.” Seraphina’s cold gaze swept over the crowd, her thin lips parting. “I’ll say it one more time. Julian Hayes is my *only* husband. If any of you dare to disrespect him from now on, don’t blame me for being ruthless.” The room fell silent. Only I slowly began to clap, the sound drawing everyone’s attention. I took off my baseball cap and looked at them coldly. “Then tell me, if *he’s* your husband, who am I?” Seraphina and Julian’s smiles instantly froze. The air in the banquet hall seemed to solidify instantly. All eyes in the room snapped to me. From initial bewilderment to dawning recognition, guests gasped in unison.

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Damien Blackwood had a trophy girlfriend, and Elara Vance simply pretended not to notice. While he showered his mistress with jewels and exotic gifts, Elara was outside, holding their daughter, Lily, watching the stars. When he celebrated his mistress’s birthday with a drone show that lit up the entire city, Elara and Lily were on vacation in Zurich. And when he brought his mistress to the office to fool around, Elara watched the surveillance feed, her face a mask of indifference as she switched it off. Until, one day, the mistress, Brittany Wells, in a fit of jealousy, kidnapped Lily. Both fell from a cliff, landing in the hospital. Elara rushed there, only to hear the doctor informing Damien, “The blood bank is critically low. We can only save one: the child or the adult.” Damien hesitated. Under Elara’s piercing gaze, he finally said, “Save the child.” Elara watched, her gaze unblinking, as he signed the form. His pen trembled, hovering for an agonizing thirty seconds before finally, painstakingly, writing their daughter’s name. A wave of relief washed over me. Then, I turned to Damien, the man I had loved for ten years. “Damien, what about your promise to me?!” I demanded, my voice raw with fury. I had pursued him for a decade. If he so much as mumbled about not eating enough dinner, I’d scour the entire city to find his favorite comfort food. When he was injured and bleeding after a race, I nearly drained my own veins to donate blood to him. But no matter how much I gave, he only ever found me annoying. It wasn’t until the Blackwood Group faced a financial crisis that he begrudgingly agreed to marry me to save his company. That day, I went to him, ecstatic, only to be met with his cold words: “High-society marriages are always about mutual benefit, Elara. I can never give you genuine affection, so just forget about it.” On the eve of our wedding, I was forced to sign a contract. We became a contractual couple. We would fulfill all marital obligations and enjoy all marital rights—*except* for the clause of mutual fidelity. The only condition was that no matter how wild he got outside, it couldn’t affect our family. For years, we stuck to this rule perfectly. Even as Damien went through mistress after mistress, I never once questioned him. But I would never, ever tolerate him harming our daughter. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect Brittany to be so extreme. She saw our family photos today, and in a moment of panic, she just snapped…” Damien tried to explain. My palms were clenched so tight my knuckles were white. Finally, I managed to say, “If you can’t control your women, I will. And when that happens, don’t expect any mercy from me.” Damien grunted, acknowledging my words, then stood and walked to the corridor to smoke. For years, we had been like this: a perfect couple on the surface, but in reality, complete strangers. Two hours later, the doctor emerged from the operating room, his face etched with regret. “We saved the child, but she suffered severe brain trauma and is now in a vegetative state. Ms. Brittany Wells was slightly luckier; she’s already awake.” … I stumbled, disoriented, into Lily’s hospital room. My eyes immediately found my daughter’s pale, fragile face. I turned back, but Damien was gone, probably to Brittany’s room. Fighting back tears, I gently wiped Lily’s face. From the open door of the room, I heard two young nurses whispering. “I just passed the stairwell, and I saw Mr. Blackwood talking to the doctor, telling him to save the adult, not the child.” “No way? Who would do that to their own daughter?” “Why would I lie? I saw them re-sign the consent forms with my own eyes!” My heart turned colder than ice. I closed my eyes, two streams of tears silently tracing paths down my cheeks. A towering wave of resentment for Damien rose inside me. That very night, I called Blackwood Manor. My personal assistant, Liam, answered. “Find the marriage contract Damien and I signed years ago. Take a picture and send it to me. And remember, don’t alarm anyone.” … Fifteen minutes later, my phone pinged. I opened the image in the chat. Clearly visible were the words: “Any party violating this contract must unconditionally agree to divorce and forfeit all marital assets, relinquishing all claims to property.” Save. File away. I sent copies to my lawyer friend and a contact at the County Clerk’s office. Replies came swiftly. 【This contract remains valid indefinitely.】 【The County Clerk’s office has an opening tomorrow; you can apply for a divorce anytime.】 I stared at the lines of text. Just as I was about to tap ‘delete,’ a deep, resonant male voice cut through the silence. “Elara, why aren’t you asleep yet?” My heart jumped, and I instinctively snapped my phone shut. Damien walked towards me, his gaze falling on Lily’s face. He sighed. “Though Brittany was in the wrong here, I’ve had the doctors give Lily their full attention, and the blood bank prioritized her. It’s just a shame she’s so small, her body couldn’t keep up…” I remained silent, watching him with a mocking gaze. Damien frowned, clearly uncomfortable with my look. He mumbled an excuse and left. I knew he was going to Brittany. But I hadn’t cared before, and I cared even less now. Over the next few days, when I wasn’t at the hospital with Lily, I quietly returned to Blackwood Manor to clear out my things. On the first day of Lily’s hospitalization, Damien spent the entire day in Brittany’s room. I went back to Blackwood Manor and burned every photo and memento of Damien and me. On the second day, Damien came to sit with Lily for an hour, only to be called away by a phone call from Brittany. I went back to Blackwood Manor and took the half-finished sweater I was knitting for Damien, savagely cut it to shreds, and threw it in the trash. On the third day, Damien came to visit Lily, bringing Brittany with him. I watched on surveillance as they passionately kissed and got intimate right beside Lily’s hospital bed. I returned to Blackwood Manor and photographed all of Damien’s business secrets, saving them to a private folder on my phone. On the fifth day, Lily was discharged. Damien brought Brittany back to Blackwood Manor. “Elara, Brittany is injured, so fragile and helpless right now; she can’t take care of herself without me.” I looked at him, my heart aching. “Damien, have you forgotten our agreement?” No matter how many women he fooled around with, he wasn’t allowed to bring them home. That was my absolute boundary. Damien had always respected that boundary. But this time, he shook his head, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Elara, Brittany truly needs care. Just be understanding. She won’t bother you.” He paused, then added, “I promise, no matter what Brittany and I do, it won’t affect your status.” … “And if I don’t agree?” I challenged. “I can’t live under the same roof as your mistress.” Damien’s patience snapped. “If you don’t want to live here, no one’s forcing you. You know perfectly well why we got married in the first place, so stop acting like I owe you anything!” He shoved me, then slammed the front door shut. Through the crack in the door, I caught Brittany’s triumphant smirk aimed directly at me. That night, a furious storm raged outside. I stood alone in the courtyard, drenched, with nowhere to shelter. I saw the lights on the second floor, the curtains in the master bedroom wide open, revealing the heated scene within. On the massive bed, Damien and Brittany were getting intimate, naked and pressed together. Once, twice, three times… As I watched their bodies intertwine and Damien’s gentle, tender movements with her, a relentless, agonizing ache ripped through my heart. Damien and I were intimate maybe once a month, and each time he was impatient and rough, as if merely going through the motions. Pinned beneath him, his hand gripping my throat, I’d struggle to gasp out, “Damien, if you don’t want this, no one’s forcing you…” I never understood why Damien hated me yet still wanted to sleep with me. He never answered, just continued his relentless thrusts, round after round… Over time, I gave up, even trying to convince myself that this was just how Damien was. But watching him with Brittany, I finally understood: there are no cold and distant men in the world. There are only men whose warmth isn’t meant for you. Drenched by the rain, I developed a fever that lasted three days. The moment I recovered, Damien dragged me to the Serenity Summit Resort in B-City for a banquet. At the entrance, I saw Brittany, wearing the haute couture gown I had asked Damien for multiple times, to no avail. Our eyes met, a clash of sparks in the air. “Mr. Blackwood, Mrs. Blackwood, the Serenity Summit Resort upholds traditional etiquette. Gentlemen are only permitted to bring their lawful wives inside. If you wish to bring an escort, she must perform a traditional bow of deference before entering.” Brittany pouted, throwing herself into Damien’s arms. “Damien! I refuse to bow to anyone! And I don’t want to be your mistress, hmph!” I couldn’t help myself. “You already are one, so why pretend otherwise?” Brittany’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Damien…” Damien hesitated for only a second before turning to the server. “Brittany Wells is my wife.” I froze, stunned, staring at Damien in disbelief. “Damien…” “Just listen,” Damien murmured. “Brittany is young and sensitive. How can she be expected to kneel before others?” Did that mean *I* could be expected to do it? Seeing my face turn ashen, Damien, unusually patient, tried to coax me. “You’ve always wanted that Peninsula Estate, haven’t you? I promise, I’ll buy it for you the moment we get back, as long as you agree to enter as an escort.” At this, the crowd began to murmur. “I thought Mr. Blackwood’s wife was the heiress from *that* prominent family? When did he get a new one?” “Exactly. The Blackwood Group faced a crisis back then, and he only got through it by marrying into that wealthy family. Now he’s completely turned his back on her, even bringing his mistress here.” “Tsk, tsk, tsk. I’d say that mistress looks more like the real Mrs. Blackwood. That poor heiress must be devastated.” My face went ashen. I had never felt such profound humiliation. I took a deep breath, then pulled out my marriage certificate with Damien. … Brittany was forced to her knees, serving Damien and me throughout the meal. Her small face was a picture of misery, tears clinging to her eyelashes, heartbreaking to behold. I remained expressionless, but Damien’s heart visibly ached for her. Suppressing his rage, he snarled, “Elara Vance, are you satisfied? Is this the humiliation you wanted to inflict on Brittany?” I bit my lip. “We willingly signed the marriage certificate years ago. I didn’t force you. I’ll use it whenever I see fit.” Halfway through the meal, Damien suddenly kicked the table over, scooped Brittany into his arms, and stormed out. The gazes of pity and sympathy from the other guests threatened to drown me. My face went pale, and I lost all appetite. I quickly excused myself. Stepping out of the hotel, the world around me abruptly went black. … When I next opened my eyes, I was bound in a cold, damp basement parking garage. My legs were tied, forcing me into a kneeling position on the concrete floor. Several masked men in black were taking photos of me from every angle. “What are you doing?!” I cried out, terrified. “Let me go! I’m Mrs. Blackwood of Blackwood Group! If my husband finds out, he’ll never let you get away with this!” The masked men were completely unfazed, their eyes full of mockery. Just then, Damien’s call came through. “Do you understand what you did wrong?” I froze. “What?” On the other end, Damien’s voice was devoid of warmth. “I told you, as my contractual wife, you need to be obedient. You used tricks to make Brittany kneel today, so I will punish you a thousandfold.” “Brittany knelt for ten minutes, so you’ll kneel for ten hours in the basement parking garage.” I felt as if I’d been plunged into an ice bath, my heart plummeting into a terrifying, empty freefall. I choked back tears, about to speak, when a syrupy, feigned-innocent female voice cooed, “Damien, darling, won’t ten hours be too long? My knees were all bruised after just ten minutes.” “What? Your knees are bruised? Let me see…” Damien’s voice hardened. “Elara Vance is utterly despicable! I’ll have them break her kneecaps!” The next second, I heard the unmistakable sounds of intimate kissing, mixed with the rustle of a condom wrapper being torn open. Then, a searing pain shot through my knee. My kneecap was brutally shattered. The next morning, Damien came to the garage entrance to pick me up. When he saw me, a smug, knowing smile played on his lips. “Spent all night reflecting, have we? Now you know where you went wrong, don’t you?” My face was devoid of color. I nodded, expressionless. “I know where I went wrong.” “Good.” Damien nodded in satisfaction. On the way back, as I stared at the back of Damien’s head, all the deep affection I once held for him had vanished, replaced by a terrifying, dead calm. In those ten agonizing hours, I finally understood my mistakes. Knowing Damien didn’t love me, yet stubbornly pursuing him – that was my first mistake. Knowing he married me for his own gain, yet still flying into his flame like a moth – that was my second. And even knowing he loved someone else, still being unable to let him go – that was my third. Now, I would rectify every single one of my mistakes. I would leave him, completely, physically and mentally. Five days left. … We drove all the way to the luxurious Peninsula Estate. Damien was pleased with my repentant attitude and immediately handed me the villa keys. “My promise to you, here you go.” Seeing my slightly dazed expression, Damien’s lips curved upward. “I told you, as long as you’re obedient, I won’t shortchange you, and Brittany won’t threaten your status.” “Once I’m done with her, I’ll come back and we can live together properly, but you need to be obedient.” I smiled, a smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes. I stepped into the villa. It was large, spacious, luxurious, and beautifully decorated. It would have been perfect, if not for Brittany Wells sitting on the plush leather sofa. “What is she doing here?” I asked, my voice dangerously cold. Damien looked somewhat surprised, his brow furrowing slightly. Brittany nervously stood up. “Damien, darling, I heard *she* was coming today, so I came especially to welcome her. I even brought a housewarming gift…” Damien’s heart softened instantly. He turned to me. “Brittany meant well, Elara. Don’t be mad at her.” “I’ve invited some friends over for dinner at the villa tonight. Brittany will join us. Elara, as the lady of the house, you need to act like it. Don’t always get hung up on trivialities.” Only now did he remember I was the lady of the house? I smiled, a pale, bitter smile. I shook my head, saying nothing. During dinner, Brittany subtly moved to sit beside me. Her knee-length dress strategically revealed a glimpse of her leg. “Damien knew my knees were bruised from kneeling. He personally applied ointment and massaged them until he was satisfied. He said if I have even the tiniest scratch, it pains him deeply. Has he ever said that to *you*?” Brittany’s triumphant gaze landed on my knees. “Oh, I forgot. He must never have said that to *you*, otherwise, why would he shatter your kneecaps?” Brittany smiled, utterly provocative. I had already given up on Damien, but hearing her words still stirred a ripple of emotion within me. “You…” I began, but then I saw a strange, cunning glint flicker in Brittany’s eyes. She swiftly grabbed the glass of water from the table and splashed it onto her own face. “Ah! What are you doing, Elara?! I was just kindly asking if your knees had healed! Why did you throw water on me!” Brittany wailed, throwing herself into Damien’s arms, crying dramatically, like a heartbroken damsel. I gaped, “I didn’t…” The next second, Damien delivered a sharp, stinging slap across my face, sending me sprawling to the floor. “Elara Vance, this is what you call knowing your mistake?!” Damien snarled, his teeth clenched. “I see you’re completely unrepentant, always pushing your luck, taking advantage of your past contributions to the Blackwood family, and trying to bully Brittany!” “I will not be lenient with you this time!” With that, I was shoved into a pool easily ten feet deep. The icy water choked my nose, and I gasped for air, thrashing wildly in the water, close to suffocating. Damien, holding Brittany close, stood on the edge, casually watching the scene. “You threw water on Brittany’s face, so I’ll make sure you drink your fill of it, Elara Vance. I told you, you must pay for your actions.” My ears buzzed, and I could barely make out what they were saying. I felt such profound regret. Such deep regret. Why had I insisted on being with someone who didn’t love me at all? Now, I was reduced to this utterly wretched state. Loving him had been a mistake from the very beginning. I don’t know how much time passed. On the brink of death, I was finally hauled out by a bodyguard. Night had fallen. After coughing up all the water from my lungs, I staggered upstairs. From the master bedroom, I heard wanton, suggestive laughter. “Damien, darling, this is your *new home* with *her*. Are you sure *she* won’t mind you sleeping with me in her bed?” “Don’t worry about her. I told you before, every bed in every one of my houses must carry your scent.” “Oh, you’re naughty~” The sounds of their escalating intimacy filled the bedroom again. My heart turned to ice, utterly desolate. I sank to the floor beside the wall and dialed a number. “Liam, do you have any available slots at the County Clerk’s office tomorrow? I can’t take this anymore; can we expedite the divorce…?” Silent tears streamed down my face, my throat tight with suppressed sobs. “There are no slots tomorrow, but there’s an opening in three days. We can fast-track your application then.” Liam’s voice was filled with concern, having detected the distress in my voice. “Good. Three days it is.” I hung up the phone, collapsing to the floor as if all strength had drained from my limbs. I had never felt so utterly exhausted. I truly had been wrong, unbelievably wrong. Believing that genuine affection would be returned in kind was the biggest lie in the world. I leaned weakly against the wall, drifting in and out of consciousness, when a startled cry suddenly erupted from the master bedroom, followed by the door being kicked open. “Elara Vance, why was there a needle in Brittany’s pajamas?! Did you secretly put it there?!” Damien’s eyes were blazing, as if he wanted to devour me. Behind him, Brittany’s small face was pale with feigned panic. There were clear hickeys on her neck, and she was wearing *my* pajamas. My face instantly hardened. “Who gave you permission to wear my pajamas?!” “Oh, so you *do* know these are your pajamas, Elara Vance! You deliberately tried to harm Brittany! How utterly vicious you are!” Damien looked at me as if I were some venomous witch. I was shocked and enraged, yet a bitter laugh escaped me. “I deliberately harmed her? Are you saying I forced her to wear my pajamas? You two want to experiment, you want to spice things up, you cheat and even wear my pajamas, and now you have the gall to blame me?! Have you no shame?!” I finished in one breath, feeling a strange catharsis, mixed with an unprecedented sorrow. Damien’s face faltered slightly, realizing there was some truth to my words. Just then, Brittany cried out, “This is a new house, and there are hardly any clothes! I had no choice but to wear *her* pajamas! She must have guessed I would do this, so she deliberately planted the needle!” Damien’s face instantly darkened. “Elara Vance, I truly misjudged you!” “Guards!” I was shoved into a burlap sack. Inside, five rats, three snakes, and dozens of cockroaches squirmed. With Damien’s single command, the bodyguards brutally beat the sack. “Ah… Ah…” The screams emanating from the sack were no longer human. Damien finally looked satisfied. He kissed Brittany’s face. “There, darling. I avenged you. She pricked you with a needle, so I’ll let the vermin bite her.” Then, he looked at the sack, his voice cold. “Consider this a lesson. If you ever dare to lay a hand on Brittany again, it won won’t be this simple.” With that, he wrapped an arm around Brittany and walked away, not once looking back. When I was released from the sack the next day, I had already passed out. When the butler reported this, Damien was in Brittany’s room, applying ointment to the small needle pricks on her. “Passed out?” Damien’s face changed. He put down the ointment and started to leave. Brittany gritted her teeth, a flash of malice in her eyes, and followed him. I lay on the ground, covered in countless small, bloody bite marks. Damien’s expression was one of shock. He was about to speak when Brittany suddenly gasped. “Ouch, my needle wound from yesterday hurts so much…” Damien’s attention immediately turned to her. He quickly checked her wound. “Better, Brittany?” Brittany nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “She probably didn’t mean to stab me. She must just be upset that you’re so good to me. It’s okay, I won’t hold it against her.” Damien’s expression darkened. Any flicker of pity he had felt for me vanished completely. “She brought it on herself. If she’s passed out, so what? Throw cold water on her. If one bucket doesn’t wake her, use two. If two don’t, use three. If ten buckets don’t wake her, she’s faking it!” The butler nodded and began to douse me with water. One bucket… Two buckets… Three buckets… By the seventh bucket, I awoke, groggily opening my eyes, my head throbbing terribly. Damien sneered. “What, not faking it anymore? You were doing such a good job just now! I almost fell for it!” Brittany murmured, “She probably stopped faking it because she was afraid of being exposed.” I had never felt such rage. I almost forgot my sorrow; all I wanted now was to tear these two people limb from limb! I gathered my last vestiges of strength and stumbled to my feet, walking towards them, one step at a time. Damien looked at me impatiently, then suddenly froze. My gaze was utterly alien. It wasn’t the loving, tender look I used to give him. Now, when I looked at him, there was only a pool of still, dead water in my eyes. Damien suddenly felt a surge of panic. “Elara, listen to me…” I swayed suddenly. The world spun. And I collapsed to the ground again. I was rushed to the hospital. Doctors diagnosed me with severe internal and external injuries, a high fever, and immediately admitted me. “The patient’s condition is very unstable. She needs complete rest, and her emotions must not be stimulated further!” the doctor told Damien before leaving. For the next few days, Damien stayed glued to my bedside. Brittany came by a few times. Seeing Damien so distraught, she gritted her teeth and left. Damien watched over me for two days and two nights straight until a bodyguard called him, frantic. “Mr. Blackwood! It’s terrible! Ms. Wells has been kidnapped!” … By the time Damien rushed to the scene, Brittany had already been rescued by his bodyguards. She cried, throwing herself into his arms. “Damien, darling, I almost didn’t see you again… boo hoo hoo…”

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My husband and son? They were both deeply, toxically possessive. They loved to test the limits of my affection, pushing me away, acting cold. They even hired Seraphina, showering her with fake adoration, just to watch me crumble with jealousy and pain. Each time they saw the hurt in my eyes, they’d secretly tremble with perverse delight, a sick thrill running through their fingertips. I knew their game, but I never called them out. I just silently played along in their absurd charade. Until that day, when Seraphina and I were both caught in an accident and rushed to the emergency room. The doctor’s face was grim. “Both patients have severe, comminuted fractures in their arms. We only have one surgeon capable of the intricate repair work. Who goes first? The second patient risks permanent disability.” In my hazy consciousness, I heard Caleb’s voice, my son’s, childish yet disturbingly calm: “Dad, let’s save Aunt Seraphina first.” “If Mom’s hand is permanently damaged, she won’t be able to give piano concerts anymore.” “That way, she’ll have more time to spend with us.” “Don’t you want to see her all the time, for her world to only revolve around us?” Donovan, my husband, was silent for a long moment. Then, he spoke: “Save Seraphina first.” In that instant, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. I never imagined that all my patience and endurance would only make them worse, escalating their twisted games. I slowly closed my eyes. My last thought before darkness consumed me was: When I wake up, I don’t want either of these two anymore. When I came to, the doctor told me the surgery had been too late. My hand would never fully recover, my piano career irrevocably over. And Donovan and Caleb, to maintain their charade, had been doting on Seraphina, never once coming to see me. I didn’t argue, didn’t cause a scene. I just quietly stayed in the hospital for a few days. The first thing I did after being discharged and returning home was contact a lawyer to draft divorce papers. Then, I started packing my belongings. I typed in my birthday as the password and opened the study door, a room Donovan and Caleb had always forbidden me from entering. What greeted me was a room filled with my photographs. On the walls, on the desk, even locked away in the cabinets – every single one was of me. Everyone said the Donovan and Caleb never loved me, but I knew the truth. Their love for me was terrifyingly, pathologically sick. My Grandpa Arthur and Donovan’s Grandpa Wallace had been close family friends. After my parents passed away, I was taken in by the Donovan’s family. When I first met Donovan, he was a teenager standing on the staircase, looking down at me, his eyes as cold as ice. I fell for him at first sight, chasing after him for years, but he never gave me a second glance. Even after Grandpa Wallace insisted he marry me, he remained distant and indifferent. It wasn’t until one day, when I accidentally stumbled into this study, that I discovered his deepest secret. This man, who was always so cold towards me, had fallen in love with me long ago. Distant during the day, he would secretly gaze at me at night, obsessively kissing my lips. And Caleb, our son, at just five years old, was already a spitting image of his father. He’d ignore me on the surface, but secretly collect every single strand of my hair. They loved me, but they pathologically craved my complete attention. For that, they deliberately acted cold, even hiring Seraphina, just to see me jealous, to see me hurt, and then to revel in their dark pleasure. I knew the truth, but I never exposed them. I thought if I was patient enough, one day I could cure their sickness. It wasn’t until that chilling “Save Seraphina first” in the hospital that I truly woke up. Some loves are just twisted, golden cages. I threw all my luggage into the trash, including the wedding ring I’d worn for five years. Just as I finished, a Bugatti slowly drove into the driveway. Donovan and Caleb were bringing Seraphina home. After they got out of the car, they ignored me as usual. Caleb’s little face was stern as he instructed the staff: “Aunt Seraphina just got out of the hospital; she hasn’t fully recovered. She’ll be staying here for a while.” “Go prepare the best guest room and decorate it to the standards of the lady of the house.” As they spoke, both father and son kept sneaking glances at me, hoping to see a jealous, heartbroken expression on my face. In the past, my heart would have twisted in agony. But now, I wouldn’t shed another tear for them. They didn’t get the reaction they expected, their faces slightly falling. But they simply assumed they weren’t acting convincingly enough, then quickly ushered Seraphina into the mansion, resuming their charade. Seraphina truly acted like she owned the place. One moment, she was critiquing the white roses outside the window: “These flowers are nice, but they don’t match the mansion. Red roses would be better.” Donovan immediately had my beloved white roses, which I had planted myself, dug up and replaced with glaring red ones. The next, she complained the curtains were too dark. Without a word, the father and son proceeded to completely redecorate the house I had so lovingly furnished, making it unrecognizable. I remained completely indifferent. Seraphina seemed a little uneasy: “I’m only staying a few days, and I’ve changed so much. Won’t Elara be angry?” Donovan said coolly, “Don’t concern yourself with her feelings.” At dinner, the staff served the meal. Donovan and Caleb doted on Seraphina, Donovan peeling shrimp for her, Caleb ladling soup, as if I were invisible. I was distracted, and after a mouthful of fish soup, I suddenly felt a large fish bone lodged in my throat! “Cough!” My face instantly changed, my breathing labored, my fingers desperately clutching my neck. Seeing my distress, Donovan and Caleb’s expressions instantly panicked, and they instinctively started to rush over. “Cough, cough, cough!” Seraphina suddenly clutched her throat too, her face contorted in pain: “I… I got a bone stuck too…” The father and son froze, their eyes conflicted. In the end, they chose to continue their act. Donovan helped Seraphina, patting her back and giving her water, while Caleb frantically called for the family doctor. My vision blurred. I tried everything to swallow the fish bone, but the sharp barb just lacerated my throat. “Pfft!” A mouthful of fresh blood spurted out, and I completely blacked out. When I next awoke, I heard Donovan and Caleb, their backs to me, coldly reprimanding the staff: “Who made this fish soup?! You almost killed my wife! All of you, get out!” I struggled to sit up, my voice hoarse: “There’s no need to fire them.” The father and son spun around. I looked at them, my eyes devoid of any emotion: “The ones who hurt me the most are those who stood by and watched me die. What responsibility can the staff bear?” Donovan’s face darkened instantly: “You have no say here! We’re not doing this for you, we’re doing it for Seraphina!” I closed my eyes, exhausted: “How long are you going to keep up this act?!” “What did you say?” They frowned, as if they hadn’t heard me clearly. I opened my mouth, about to speak, when the butler suddenly rushed in: “Sir, Ms. Seraphina is awake and asking for you.” Donovan and Caleb exchanged glances, then turned without hesitation: “You rest well. We’re going to take care of Seraphina.” With that, they left without another glance, heading straight for Seraphina’s room. Over the next few days, the father and son intensified their doting on Seraphina. Donovan personally fed her medicine, and Caleb stayed by her side, chatting incessantly. I knew they were putting on a show for me, but I no longer cared. Until Seraphina’s birthday party. The Donovan mansion was lavishly decorated, crystal chandeliers reflecting brilliant light, champagne towers stacked high. Guests murmured praise for the family’s lavish attention to Seraphina. “Mr. Donovan really dotes on Ms. Seraphina.” “Indeed. Mrs. Donovan has been married for so many years, and Mr. Donovan has never thrown her a birthday party.” “Even his own son only revolves around Seraphina. Mrs. Donovan is truly a failure…” The whispers of the crowd reached my ears, and I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Yes, I was a failure. Who would have thought this father and son, who supposedly loved me so fiercely, would choose to express it in such a way? In the center of the ballroom, Seraphina wore a haute couture gown, protected on either side by Donovan and Caleb, like a true lady of the house. They presented her with expensive gifts, accompanied her as she blew out candles and made a wish, yet their eyes kept darting towards me, hoping to catch a hint of jealousy or sadness on my face. But I simply sat quietly in a corner, my expression indifferent, as if none of it concerned me. Their faces grew increasingly grim. “Ms. Elara,” Seraphina suddenly chirped, her voice sweet, “What gift did you prepare for me?” I looked up: “Nothing.” Seraphina wasn’t offended. She pouted playfully: “How can my birthday be without a gift?” She feigned hurt: “Is it that you don’t welcome me here?” As she spoke, her gaze fell on the heirloom pendant around my neck, and her eyes lit up: “That pendant is so beautiful. Why don’t you give it to me as a birthday gift?” I frowned, instinctively covering the pendant: “No!” Seraphina’s eyes immediately welled up, and she looked to the father and son for help. “Take it off,” Donovan’s voice was as cold as ice. Caleb chimed in with a sneer: “It’s just a cheap pendant. If Aunt Seraphina likes it, just give it to her. Why be so stingy?” “This isn’t an ordinary pendant,” my voice began to tremble. Donovan stepped forward, pulling the chain with a harsh yank. The thin chain left a burning red mark on my neck. “Mrs. Donovan can’t even spare a simple pendant? We’ll just buy you a similar one later.” “No amount of similar ones will do!” My voice shook. “This is Grandpa Arthur’s last gift to me!” Donovan froze for a moment but quickly regained his cold composure: “The dead can’t be brought back to life. You need to let go of these old things to move on.” As he handed the pendant to Seraphina, I clearly saw his fingertips tremble slightly. Caleb chimed in: “Exactly, Mom is too fixated.” I completely broke down. Their acting, could it really go this far? Was their love truly just watching me suffer? I was about to step forward and snatch it back when Seraphina “accidentally” let her hand slip. “Smash!” The pendant fell heavily to the ground, shattering into several pieces. My pupils contracted, and I frantically knelt to pick them up: “What did you do?!” Seraphina feigned panic: “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to! I, I’ll help you fix it…” “Get lost!” I shoved her away, trembling as I gathered the fragments in my palm. The sharp edges of the broken jade dug deep into my skin, but it couldn’t compare to the pain in my heart. I turned to go back to my room, but Donovan blocked my way: “What kind of attitude is that? It’s just a pendant. If it’s broken, it’s broken. How can you push Seraphina?” I no longer wanted to say another word to them. I walked around them and headed straight upstairs. In my room, I tried to mend the pendant, but no matter how I pieced it together, the cracks were still clearly visible, just like my relationship with Donovan and Caleb – it could never be fully repaired. I took a deep breath, deciding to go out and find a professional artisan to restore it. Just as I opened the door, Seraphina stood outside, a triumphant smile on her lips: “Now you know how important I am, don’t you?” “Even your cherished heirloom, all it took was one word from me, and they snatched it for me, didn’t they?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice: “If you’re smart, you’ll step aside quickly.” I looked at her, so smug and overjoyed, and suddenly found it laughable. Did Donovan and Caleb know? The person they hired to act was growing this greedy. I looked at her coldly: “I think you’re the one who can’t see her place.” Seraphina’s face changed instantly: “What do you mean? Do you know something?” I was too tired to argue, pushing her aside to leave. But Seraphina suddenly grabbed my wrist: “Stop! Explain yourself!” “Let go!” I shook her off. I hadn’t used much force, yet Seraphina acted as if she’d been violently shoved, stumbling backward. “Ah!” With a scream, Seraphina tumbled down the stairs! The loud crash drew Donovan and Caleb. They rushed over, and Donovan immediately scooped up the collapsed Seraphina: “What happened?” Seraphina’s eyes were red, her voice choked: “I, I just wanted to apologize for the pendant… but she not only refused to accept it, she also cursed at me and told me to get out…” She sobbed, “She said she didn’t want to see me, and didn’t want you two near me…” Hearing this, a flicker of delight flashed in their eyes, their mouths unconsciously turning up, then quickly suppressed as they feigned seriousness. Donovan had the staff help Seraphina for a check-up, then turned to me, his voice cold: “These past few days, you’ve been quiet. I thought you’d finally learned to be magnanimous, but it was all an act.” “Since you dared to push Seraphina, you will pay the price.” He raised his hand and summoned the security guards: “Drag her to the third floor. Throw her down.” The words struck my heart like a heavy hammer. My eyes widened, my voice trembling, “Donovan! Are you insane? I didn’t push her! She fell herself!” “The third floor isn’t high,” he said indifferently. “It’s just to let you experience Seraphina’s pain, so you won’t make the same mistake again.” The security guards grabbed my arms. I struggled desperately, but it was useless. As I was dragged to the third floor, I screamed, “Donovan! Caleb! You’ll regret this!” “Thud!” When my body hit the marble ground of the courtyard, I heard the crisp snap of my bones. Excruciating pain instantly swept through me. Blood seeped from the corner of my mouth, and my vision began to blur. Through the haze, I saw Donovan and Caleb standing not far away. Under the light, a suppressed smile played on both their lips. “Dad,” Caleb whispered, “Mom is getting jealous for us again.” His eyes sparkled: “Mom really loves us so much, I’m so happy!” Donovan stroked his head, his voice soft: “Dad is happy too.” Listening to their conversation, my heart felt like it was being torn in two. My pain, their cruelty, was just a game to prove my love in their eyes. Darkness enveloped me like a tide, and I finally couldn’t hold on, completely losing consciousness. When I woke up again, the hospital’s harsh fluorescent lights stung my eyes. My whole body ached as if I’d been crushed, pain seeping from every bone. The nurse was changing my dressing. Seeing my eyes open, she quickly came closer: “You’re awake? How do you feel?” I struggled to move my lips, my throat as parched as if burned: “Who… brought me here?” “It was a father and son,” the nurse answered, adjusting my IV, her eyes filled with admiration. “Your husband and son, I presume? They’re so handsome.” She continued to chatter: “They were so frantic when they brought you in, they mobilized blood from all over the city, booked an entire floor, and stayed by your bedside all night.” My fingertips trembled. My heart felt gripped by an invisible hand. It was always like this. They clearly worried about me fiercely in secret, but on the surface, they insisted on acting indifferent. How ridiculous! “But what’s strange,” the nurse continued, “is that as soon as the doctor said you were about to wake up, they left in a hurry, heading to another patient’s room. Should I call them for you?” I closed my eyes, weary, and shook my head: “No, thank you.” I knew their games too well. They must have gone to Seraphina’s room to continue their act. Over the next few days, I took care of myself, quietly recovering from my injuries. On the day of my discharge, Mr. Sterling, the lawyer, brought the drafted divorce papers. I carefully read them over, confirmed everything was in order, and signed my name. Just as I finished the discharge procedures, I ran into Donovan and Caleb in the hospital corridor. They were helping Seraphina with her discharge. Father and son flanked her, Donovan even personally carrying her bag, and Caleb thoughtfully holding her jacket. I stood there, my fingers clutching the divorce papers. I took a deep breath, walked up to them, and handed the papers to Donovan: “Sign this.” Donovan frowned: “What is this?” Seraphina, beside him, immediately chirped: “It’s probably family signature required for discharge papers, right?” She tugged on Donovan’s sleeve, pouting playfully, “Donovan, just sign it. I feel a bit dizzy and want to go home and rest early.” Caleb also looked up, feigning concern: “Dad, please sign it quickly. Aunt Seraphina isn’t feeling well.” Donovan then took the pen, signed his name without even glancing at the contents. Then, he turned and left with Caleb and Seraphina, not giving me a single extra glance. I stood there, my heart feeling hollowed out, yet strangely, it no longer ached. I pulled out my phone and asked Mr. Sterling: “Both parties have signed. When can I get the divorce certificate?” The lawyer replied: “After the one-month cooling-off period is over.” I nodded, put the agreement in my bag, and turned to leave. Just as I walked out of the hospital, a stretched Rolls-Royce slowly pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, and Seraphina poked her head out: “Ms. Elara, since we ran into each other, why don’t we go back together?” I said coldly: “No need.” Two almost inaudible coughs came from the back seat. Donovan and Caleb simultaneously frowned, their gazes involuntarily drifting towards me. Seraphina immediately got out of the car and grabbed my hand: “Don’t dwell on what happened last time. Although you pushed me, you also suffered punishment, so let’s put it behind us.” She said, then forcefully pulled me into the car. I knew this must be the father and son’s doing. They wanted to be with me but couldn’t say it directly, so they made Seraphina do it. How ironic and pathetic. The car started, and suffocating silence filled the cabin. Donovan personally poured Seraphina a glass of warm water, and Caleb attentively draped a jacket over her shoulders. Their actions were smooth and natural, yet their eyes kept glancing at me, as if hoping to catch a hint of jealousy or sadness on my face. But I just silently stared out the window, my eyes dead. The window glass reflected my pale face and their restless eyes. Suddenly… “Bang!” A loud crash, and the car violently shook! My head slammed hard against the front seatback. My vision instantly went black. In the split second before losing consciousness, I distinctly saw Donovan and Caleb both lunging towards me, their arms already halfway extended… But in the moment our eyes met, they sharply changed direction, firmly shielding Seraphina in their arms. My heart turned completely cold. The chauffeur quickly apologized. Donovan and Caleb anxiously checked Seraphina for injuries. Seraphina chirped: “I’m fine, thanks to you two protecting me.” Then, she suddenly gasped: “Oh no, Ms. Elara is badly hurt!” The father and son finally turned to look at me. Blood seeped from my forehead, and my arm had several cuts from shattered glass. I was a complete mess. The chauffeur quickly asked: “Should we go back to the hospital?” Donovan’s throat bobbed. His eyes struggled, but eventually he said coldly: “No need. Seraphina still needs to rest.” He looked at me, his tone indifferent: “Just go back and put some antiseptic on yourself.” Caleb echoed: “Yes, Mom… just take care of it yourself.” I didn’t speak, just slowly closed my eyes. I was too tired, so tired I couldn’t even feel the pain anymore. Back at the mansion, I endured the pain and disinfected my wounds. The moment the alcohol seeped into the cuts, my fingertips trembled, but I didn’t shed a single tear. For the next few days, I quietly recovered in my room. Until this day, I went out to throw away the trash. As soon as I tossed it in, a sharp pain shot through the back of my neck. In the last second before I passed out, I recognized the attacker’s face. It was one of Donovan’s enemies! When I opened my eyes again, I found myself in an abandoned factory. My entire body was tightly bound with thick ropes, rendering me immobile. What sent shivers down my spine was the bomb strapped to my waist. The countdown read: 3:00. Seraphina was also tied to a pillar opposite me, her exquisitely made-up face terrified and pale: “Wh-what’s going on?” I didn’t answer, lowering my head to try and struggle free from the ropes. But they were tied too tightly. After a few futile attempts, my wrists only hurt more. The countdown ticked away, second by second. 2:45. Just then, the factory door was violently kicked open! “Bang!” Blinding sunlight streamed in. I squinted, seeing two familiar figures rush inside. It was Donovan and Caleb! Their expressions were tense, their gazes quickly scanning the factory, finally locking onto me. Donovan’s pupils constricted abruptly, and he instinctively lunged towards me. “Donovan! Caleb!” Seraphina suddenly shrieked, her voice trembling, “I’m so scared…” The father and son’s steps abruptly halted. Donovan’s throat bobbed. His eyes struggled. Caleb also clenched his small fists, staring intently at me, seemingly trying hard to restrain something. Finally, Donovan closed his eyes for a moment, then turned and walked towards Seraphina. “We’ll save Seraphina first,” his voice was low, as if trying to convince himself. “Elara… you wait a little longer.” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. 0:30. I watched Donovan and Caleb quickly untie Seraphina, helping her to walk out. Seraphina leaned against Donovan, turning back to glance at me, a triumphant smile curving her lips. A shiver ran through me. 0:20. They really left. At this life-or-death moment, they still chose to keep up their act! I gritted my teeth, struggling desperately. The ropes finally loosened a bit. Enduring the excruciating pain, I slowly pulled my wrists out of the bindings. My skin was raw and bloody, but I couldn’t care less about the pain. 0:03. I finally broke free, stumbling out. But after only a few steps… “Boom!!!” A deafening explosion erupted behind me, and the massive shockwave sent me flying! I landed heavily on the ground, my back burning with pain, my ears ringing, my vision blurry. In a daze, I saw Donovan and Caleb rushing back, running towards me like madmen. Donovan’s eyes were bloodshot, his voice hoarse: “Elara!!” Caleb also cried out: “Mom!” I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t even have the strength to twitch my lips. I slowly closed my eyes, sinking into darkness. … When I next awoke, I was lying in a hospital bed, my entire body aching as if I’d been crushed. The nurse, seeing I was awake, quickly held me down: “Don’t move! You just had a kidney transplant; you can’t move around!” “Kidney transplant…?” My voice was hoarse. “Yes, you were injured by the bomb, and your kidney ruptured. Luckily, your husband didn’t hesitate to donate a kidney to you, and your son even gave you 800cc of blood.” My fingertips trembled. The nurse continued: “You truly have a good husband and a good son. They not only booked the entire floor for your recovery but also took turns watching over you for three days and three nights.” I closed my eyes, a sharp pain in my heart. They would rather donate a kidney, give blood, and watch over me, than say “I love you.” But thankfully, that kind of love, I no longer needed. … During my stay in the hospital, Donovan and Caleb never once came to see me. But strangely, I always felt someone secretly entering my room in the middle of the night. Sometimes, it was cool fingertips gently caressing my face. Sometimes, warm lips pressed against mine. And once, I even heard someone whispering softly in my ear… “Baby… get well soon.” That night, I once again felt someone approach. Warm breath caressed my neck, soft lips gently pressed against my earlobe. I suddenly opened my eyes! Donovan’s face was inches away. Our eyes met, and a flicker of panic crossed his face. “What are you doing?” I asked coldly. Donovan’s expression stiffened. The next second, he raised his hand. “Smack!” A chop to the side of my neck, and my vision went black. I passed out again. … A few days later, Donovan finally brought Caleb to “officially” visit me. “How are your injuries?” Donovan stood at the foot of the bed, his voice as cold as if he were asking a stranger. My gaze fell on his subtly trembling fingertips, and I suddenly laughed: “Have you been here these past few days?” Donovan’s pupils constricted abruptly, and his throat bobbed. He quickly turned his face away, his voice stiff: “No. We’ve been taking care of Seraphina. We just stopped by to pick up some medicine today and happened to check on you.” He finished speaking and turned to leave, his back rigid as if nailed to a board. Caleb, however, remained rooted, his small hand clutching his father’s coat, his eyes as red as a rabbit’s. “Donovan, Caleb.” I suddenly called out to them. Father and son turned around simultaneously, their movements so synchronized it was as if they had rehearsed it a thousand times. I looked at their similar faces, Donovan’s tense jawline, Caleb’s reddened eyes. I suddenly felt utterly exhausted, like I had traversed mountains and rivers, only to find the destination had vanished. I opened my mouth, wanting to say I knew they would sneak into my room every night and stay until dawn; wanting to say I could smell Donovan’s unique sandalwood scent; wanting to say I could hear Caleb’s muffled sobs hiding at the end of the hallway. But in the end, I just wearily closed my eyes. Forget it. I was tired. Too tired to even expose their ridiculous charade anymore. Since they loved proving their affection through pain, let them play their fill. Anyway, I was about to make my final exit. On the day of my discharge, it happened to be Grandpa Arthur’s memorial day. As I stepped out of the hospital, I saw Donovan’s car parked by the curb. The window rolled down, and Caleb poked his head out: “It’s Great-Grandpa’s memorial today. Dad and I will go with you.” I opened the car door, and coincidentally saw Seraphina’s smug smile in the back seat. My fingers dug into the flower wrapper as I silently got into the car. At the cemetery, the cold wind was bleak. A staff member walked over, respectfully saying: “Ms. Elara, your grandfather’s plot needs to be renewed.” Donovan immediately pulled out his card: “I’ll take care of it.” After he and Caleb left, Seraphina’s expression immediately changed. “Your grandfather’s been dead for so many years, and you still come to pay respects. What a waste of time,” she sneered. “An old geezer like that, does he deserve such a good plot?” I abruptly looked up, blood rising in my eyes: “Say that again!” “Did I say something wrong?” Seraphina smiled maliciously. “Thanks to the old man dying early, otherwise, seeing his granddaughter so lowly, shamelessly clinging to a man who doesn’t love her, he’d probably be brought back to life by anger!” “Slap!” A crisp slap echoed through the cemetery. Seraphina staggered backward, her head hitting the tombstone hard. Blood immediately trickled down her perfectly styled curly hair. “Elara!” Donovan and Caleb rushed over at the sound, just in time to see this scene. Seraphina immediately clutched her head, crying tragically: “Donovan… Ms. Elara is angry that you two have been taking care of me these past few days, even bringing me to pay respects to her grandfather. She got jealous and hit me. It’s my fault for not knowing my place; her anger is understandable…” The father and son exchanged glances, a subtle hint of pleasure flashing in their eyes. But quickly, Donovan’s face darkened. He looked at me, his eyes as cold as tempered ice: “Elara, what are you making a fuss about now!” Caleb also stiffened his small face, a mirror image of his father’s, but his voice carried a maturity unsuited for his age: “Mom, you hurt Aunt Seraphina. You must be punished.” With that, Donovan raised his hand and commanded the security guards: “Dig up the urn.” My pupils constricted sharply. All the blood in my body seemed to freeze instantly: “Donovan! How dare you!!” The security guards’ movements were incredibly fast. The sound of the shovel digging into the earth was particularly harsh in the silent cemetery. I rushed forward like a madwoman, but Donovan grabbed my wrist. “Whoosh!” The moment the urn was opened, a cold wind howled through, sweeping up the gray-white dust, scattering it everywhere. “What are you doing!” Donovan’s face changed instantly, his voice filled with unprecedented panic: “Who told you to scatter it?!” The security guard froze, his shovel clanging to the ground: “Sir… didn’t you mean to scatter it to ashes?” Time seemed to stand still. Donovan and Caleb both froze, identical looks of shock and regret appearing on their similar faces. I watched the ashes dance in the air, and in a daze, I seemed to see Grandpa Arthur’s kind smile dissipating in the wind. The grandpa who would carry me on his shoulders to pick peaches, the grandpa who was the first to stand up for me when I was wronged, the grandpa who still worried about my happiness on his deathbed… he had turned into a wisp of dust between heaven and earth. My heart felt squeezed by an invisible hand, hurting so much I could barely breathe. A sweet, metallic taste rose in my throat, and I suddenly spat out a mouthful of blood. My vision went black, and I collapsed in front of the cold tombstone. … In a daze, I felt myself floating in boundless darkness. I heard the deliberately hushed voices of the father and son, as if from far away. “Dad, did we go too far?” Caleb’s voice was clearly choked with tears. “Mom was so sad she even coughed up blood…” Immediately after, a pair of warm hands carefully held mine. Donovan’s voice was trembling uncontrollably: “Elara, I’m sorry… Wake up, I didn’t mean it… I never intended to scatter the ashes…” “Mom…” Caleb sobbed, his small hand gently caressing my cheek. “We just wanted to make you jealous… We love you…” Tears seeped from the corners of my eyes, silently soaking the pillowcase. They needed my pain to prove my concern, my tears to confirm my love. Behind every hurt, there was their twisted satisfaction. So, this was their love. To make me hurt, to make me cry, to make me wish I were dead, only then could it prove I cared. But that kind of love… I didn’t want it! I woke up at home to an empty mansion, only the staff busy downstairs. I opened my phone to check the time, but the screen was filled with news reports of Donovan and Caleb taking Seraphina to high-end restaurants and luxury stores. In every photo, Donovan had his arm around Seraphina’s waist, Caleb held her hand, the three of them smiling like a happy family. I expressionlessly scrolled past the news, my gaze falling on the date circled in red on the calendar. Three days left of the divorce cooling-off period. I was finally going to be free. … On the day of Donovan Corp’s anniversary celebration, I, as the nominal lady of the house, had no choice but to attend. The ballroom was magnificent, filled with clinking glasses and chatter. Seraphina wore a haute couture gown, clinging to Donovan’s arm, accepting compliments like a true hostess. “Mr. Donovan really dotes on Ms. Seraphina!” “Indeed, I heard the young master likes her too!” I stood in the corner, quietly drinking, as if none of it concerned me. Halfway through the banquet, the host announced the lottery drawing. The grand prize was: a wish granted by Mr. Donovan and young master Caleb, no matter what, they would fulfill it. The entire hall erupted in gasps, everyone excitedly waiting for the draw. “Congratulations, Ms. Seraphina wins the grand prize!” Seraphina covered her mouth in surprise, ascending the stage amidst applause. She took the microphone, shyly glancing at Donovan: “My wish is… I’d like to hear Caleb call me ‘Mom.’” The air instantly froze. Everyone’s gaze shifted back and forth between Seraphina and me. Caleb stood on stage, his small face tightly composed. He looked in my direction, a hint of anticipation and nervousness in his eyes, but when he saw my expressionless face, the corners of his mouth drooped slightly. “Mom!” He suddenly brightened, his voice clear and loud. Then he stood on tiptoes and kissed Seraphina’s cheek. The banquet hall erupted in enthusiastic applause and cheers. My fingers, clutching the wine glass, turned slightly white. In a daze, I remembered the first time Caleb called me “Mom.” He had just learned to speak then, a soft, sweet “Mom” that made me cry all night. The music for the opening dance began. Donovan walked directly to Seraphina, taking her hand. Whispers broke out around me: “Mr. Donovan didn’t invite Mrs. Donovan to the opening dance this year?” “It seems Ms. Seraphina is really going to take over!” “Definitely. Look, even the young master calls her ‘Mom’ now…” I sat in the corner, downing one glass after another. The alcohol burned my stomach, but it couldn’t warm my frozen heart. I don’t know how much I drank, but my vision started to blur. In a daze, a server came to assist me: “Madam, you’ve had too much to drink. I’ll escort you upstairs to rest.” I was helped into the top-floor suite and collapsed onto the bed. The server thoughtfully took off my shoes, closed the door, and left. When the door opened again, I was already drifting in and out of consciousness. Seraphina walked in on high heels, looking down at me: “Your son called me ‘Mom.’ How does that make you feel?” I kept my eyes closed, my voice hoarse: “…No feeling.” Seraphina sneered: “You really can endure, can’t you? Your heart must be bleeding, I imagine?” She bent down, whispering in my ear: “But you don’t have to worry. I’ve taken your son. Next, I’ll give you a child too.” A bad premonition seized me. I used all my strength to shake off the drunkenness and open my eyes! The next second, I saw a strange man push open the door. Seraphina quickly retreated, locking the door from the outside. “You… get lost!” I struggled to retreat, but the alcohol made my body weak. The man grinned menacingly and lunged forward, tearing at my clothes: “Don’t pretend, Mrs. Donovan. Your husband doesn’t even care about you. Why play the virtuous woman?” I fought back desperately, my nails savagely tearing at the man’s face. Seizing the moment he cried out in pain, I fumbled for my phone and shakily dialed Donovan’s number. Calling the police would be too late. I could only call Donovan; he was in this very hotel. Once, twice, thrice… The call remained unanswered. Ten times, twenty times… Even after the twenty-eighth call, there was only the cold busy signal. I was utterly desperate. Seeing my dress about to be torn, I frantically grabbed the vase from the table and smashed it hard on the man’s head! While he groaned on the floor in pain, I staggered towards the window and, without hesitation, jumped! “Ah!” I landed in the bushes below, my knees and arms covered in countless scratches from branches. But I ignored the pain, scrambling up and running forward. Until, at a corner, a familiar voice made me freeze. Caleb’s voice came: “Dad, Mom called so many times. Aren’t you going to answer? What if something happened to her?” Donovan stared at his phone screen, his eyes conflicted, finally saying coldly: “If I answered, she’d know we care a lot about her.” Caleb nodded: “Dad is right. Mom’s love for us isn’t deep enough yet; she only called 28 times.” He counted on his fingers: “She needs to call at least 99 times to prove she truly loves us.” I hid around the corner, listening to their conversation, my heart feeling like it was being torn apart. So… they were still testing my love. But for them, I had, long since, run out of love! I limped out of the hotel, hailed a cab, and went home. I rummaged through the first-aid kit, hastily treated my wounds, and then began packing my luggage. Tomorrow, the divorce cooling-off period would end. I could finally leave this hell for good. I finished packing my last suitcase and was about to pour a glass of water when breaking news on the TV hit me like a lightning bolt. “Piano virtuoso Seraphina wins International Piano Competition Gold Medal with original composition ‘Dirge’…” The glass in my hand shattered to pieces. On the screen, Seraphina stood on the podium, smiling sweetly as she gave an interview: “This piece took me three years to create. The inspiration came from my insights into life and love…” My entire body trembled. That was *my* composition! My personally composed, original score, which I hadn’t even had time to publish! How did it become Seraphina’s?! The sound of my room door opening interrupted my thoughts. Donovan walked in with Caleb and Seraphina, the three of them chatting and laughing, like a happy family of three. “What is this?” I pointed at the TV, my voice trembling uncontrollably, “Give me an explanation.” Donovan didn’t even glance at it, saying dismissively: “No need for an explanation. Seraphina liked it, so I gave it to her.” “That’s my original work!” I almost ground the words out through clenched teeth. “It’s given, it’s given,” Donovan frowned impatiently. “Anyway, your hand is ruined. From now on, just stay home and be a wife and mother.” Those words were like a sharp knife, piercing deeply into my heart. Yes, my hand was ruined… That day in the hospital, they chose to save Seraphina without hesitation, making me lose my ability to play the piano forever. Simply because they said: only if my hand was ruined, would I love them wholeheartedly. So… this was their love? To strip away my career, steal my creations, break my wings, just to imprison me forever in this gilded cage? I bit my lip fiercely until I tasted blood: “Donovan, Caleb, you will regret this!” “Those who trample on genuine feelings will face a reckoning!” Donovan’s face changed instantly: “What do you mean?” I didn’t answer, turning to my room and slamming the door shut. Outside the door, Seraphina’s sickly sweet voice came: “Donovan, Caleb, we’re going to the award ceremony tomorrow…” “Get lost!” Donovan threw her away, his eyes dark and menacing. “She’s not even here, why are you still pretending? The act is over, don’t be an eyesore here.” “I’m warning you,” Caleb’s voice was cold, unlike a child’s, “If Mom is unhappy, everything we’ve given you, we can take back.” Seraphina’s face turned pale. She meekly agreed, but a hint of malice flashed in her eyes. … The next morning, when I came downstairs, Donovan and Caleb immediately sat next to Seraphina. “Today we’re accompanying Seraphina to the award ceremony. You stay at home and don’t cause any trouble.” I calmly nodded: “Don’t worry. I won’t cause any trouble anymore.” The words were spoken so lightly, yet they sent an inexplicable tremor through Donovan’s heart. He instinctively wanted to say something, but Seraphina hooked his arm: “Donovan, we should leave.” After they left, I stood in the empty living room, taking a deep breath. I took out the documents I had prepared long ago and headed straight to the civic office. At the civic office, when the clerk handed me the divorce certificate, I didn’t even glance at it. Returning to what was once my home, I placed the divorce certificate on the living room coffee table. Before leaving, I took one last look around the mansion, my gaze sweeping over the dust-covered piano, the family photo hanging on the wall, and Caleb’s crooked drawings from when he was little by the entrance. Then, I turned and left, never looking back. At the backstage of the awards ceremony, Seraphina was adjusting her necklace in front of the mirror. The diamond pendant sparkled dazzlingly under the lights. Donovan stood by, his eyes cold and distant, yet his gaze involuntarily drifted towards the door, filled with anticipation. “Dad, do you think Mom will come?” Caleb suddenly asked, voicing Donovan’s unspoken question. Seraphina’s movement with the necklace froze. She walked over on her high heels. “Ms. Elara seemed very upset this morning. She should still come. Mr. Donovan, young master, that way you can see her jealous again.” Despite saying this, Donovan felt an inexplicable unease growing in his heart. He couldn’t help but pull out his phone and dial my number, only to hear a cold automated message. [Sorry, the number you dialed is currently unavailable…] My phone was off? Why? He was about to call again when a staff member approached, respectfully saying the awards ceremony was about to begin and asked them to take their seats. Donovan frowned slightly, finally putting away his phone. While Seraphina delivered her emotional acceptance speech on stage, Donovan was distracted. My unusual behavior this morning made him feel inexplicably irritated, as if something important was slipping through his fingers. “Dad, Mom didn’t come to make a scene out of jealousy. It’s boring. I want to go home,” Caleb suddenly whispered. Donovan looked down at his son, noticing a rare anxiety on the usually calm little face. He nodded, and without waiting for Seraphina to finish, he stood up and pulled Caleb out of the hall. “Donovan? Caleb? Where are you going?” Seraphina exclaimed from the stage, drawing everyone’s attention. Donovan strode away without looking back, Caleb trotting to keep up with his father. The black Rolls-Royce sped through the night. Donovan’s fingertips unconsciously tapped on his knee, Caleb’s lips were tightly pressed together. When the car lights illuminated the gates of the Donovan mansion, Donovan’s heart sank. The entire house was pitch black, not a single light on, something that had never happened before. I always left a light on, waiting for them to come home. Donovan practically rushed into the house. In the empty living room, a dark green little booklet on the coffee table was particularly glaring. This was… Divorce papers? What did this mean? I had divorced him?! He froze, his fingers trembling as he picked up the divorce certificate. “Dad…” Caleb’s voice was tearful, “Come quick, all of Mom’s things are gone…” Donovan spun around and dashed upstairs. The master bedroom door was wide open, the entire room so clean it was as if I had never been there. A sharp pain suddenly shot through Donovan’s chest. He leaned against the wall to steady himself. He was in so much pain, it felt like someone had literally ripped a piece of flesh from his body. “How could this be…” he murmured, “How could she divorce me and leave…” “Dad, it’s all your fault!” Caleb suddenly rushed in, his small fists fiercely pounding his father’s leg. “It was all your idea to test Mom! Now she doesn’t want us! What are we going to do? I want Mom, I want Mom!” Donovan looked down at his son’s tear-streaked face, unsure how to respond for the first time. “Donovan…” Seraphina’s voice came from the doorway. She was dragging her long dress, out of breath. “Why did you suddenly leave? What happened?” Donovan slowly turned, his eyes terrifyingly dark. Seraphina was startled by his gaze and stumbled back, forcing a smile: “Is Ms. Elara throwing another tantrum? She’s always like this, always…” “Shut up.” Donovan’s voice was low. “Who gave you permission to talk about her?” Seraphina’s face turned pale: “I, I just…” “Dad, make her leave!” Caleb suddenly shrieked. “It’s because we hired her that Mom left!” Donovan’s eyes completely turned cold. He pressed the intercom: “Someone, escort Ms. Seraphina out.” “What?” Seraphina’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Donovan, you can’t do this! We agreed…” Two security guards quickly appeared at the door, grabbing her arms. “Pack her things and throw them out too.” Donovan didn’t even look at her. “From now on, she’s not allowed within a foot of this house.” “Mr. Donovan! What did I do wrong…” Seraphina struggled and shrieked. “All this time, I’ve been cooperating with your act…” “Drag her out.” The security guards quickly covered Seraphina’s mouth and dragged her downstairs. Caleb rushed to the window, watching Seraphina being roughly shoved into a car and driven away, a twisted hint of glee on his small face. “Dad, let’s go find Mom,” he turned and grabbed his father’s coat, big tears streaming down his face. “We’ll apologize, tell her we love her. Mom will forgive us…” He mechanically pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant: “Immediately, right now, find Elara’s whereabouts. Use all connections, all resources, no matter the cost.” Hanging up the phone, Donovan slowly crouched down and hugged his sobbing son. His voice was hoarse beyond recognition: “We’ll find her… We will…” Outside the window, the evicted Seraphina stood outside the Donovan mansion gates, the tears in her eyes long since evaporated by hatred. She stared intensely at the brightly lit mansion, her fingernails digging deep into her palms. The curtains in the hotel suite were drawn. I sat cross-legged on the bed, the glow of my laptop reflecting on my pale face. On the screen was the folder I had just organized. My fingertips lightly glided across the touchpad, opening a photograph. It was the original manuscript of “Dirge,” the paper edges already yellowed, the date clearly visible in the bottom right corner. It was three years ago. In the photo, my hands were still perfectly intact, resting on the piano keys. “Enough,” I murmured softly, dragging the photo into the email attachment field. I also added a few audio recordings – conversations Seraphina had accidentally recorded on the home monitoring system while rummaging through my sheet music in the Donovan mansion. [Anyway, her hand is ruined, these pieces are just going to waste…] Seraphina’s shrill voice came from the speaker, laced with barely concealed greed. I expressionlessly clicked the send button. The email went simultaneously to five mainstream media outlets and to Mr. Sterling, my lawyer. Done with that, I closed my laptop and walked to the window, sharply pulling open the curtains. Sunlight poured in like a flood, making me squint. My phone vibrated. It was Mr. Sterling’s reply: [Sufficient evidence. Lawsuit submitted to court. Media will release news in three hours.] I put down my phone and started packing. I had booked a flight south for tonight. There was a small city there known for piano craftsmanship; perhaps I could find someone to repair my fingers. In my suitcase, besides essential clothes, I only packed two things: a small cloth pouch containing the shattered pieces of my heirloom pendant, and a stack of yellowed sheet music. Those were Grandpa Arthur’s last gifts to me. In Donovan Corp’s CEO office, Donovan stared at his computer screen, his face as grim as iron. The CFO stood before the desk, fine beads of sweat on his forehead. “All joint accounts unlinked?” Donovan’s voice was as cold as tempered ice. “Y-yes, Mr. Donovan.” The CFO handed over a document. “Mrs. Elara… no, Ms. Elara already processed all asset division procedures yesterday.” Donovan snatched the document, his gaze sweeping over the cold numbers and clauses. On the signature line of the last page, my handwriting was neatly precise, without a trace of hesitation. “And this…” The CFO carefully placed another notarized document. “Ms. Elara transferred all Donovan Corp shares under her name to the young master. The notarization is complete.” Donovan’s knuckles turned white. The paper crackled in his hand, protesting the pressure. He suddenly remembered something, abruptly standing up: “Get the car ready, I’m going home!” When Donovan rushed into the mansion garden, the gardener was squatting by the white rose bushes, lost in thought. The formerly blooming flowers had been dug up by the roots, leaving only ugly earthen pits. “Who did this?” Donovan’s voice startled the gardener. “It, it was Ms. Elara…” The gardener stammered. “Not long ago, she personally dug up all the white roses you planted for her…” Donovan’s chest felt like it had been punched hard. He mechanically pulled out his phone and dialed the private investigator: “Have you found her?” “Not yet…” The other person hesitated. “Ms. Elara is very cautious. She’s only using cash, and her hotel registrations are under fake names… But we found she contacted a few media outlets…” Donovan frowned deeply: “What media?” The sound of rustling paper came from the other end of the line: “Mainly entertainment and music magazines, seems to be related to Ms. Seraphina’s award-winning piece…” Before he could finish, a push notification popped up on Donovan’s computer. [Breaking News! Rising Pianist Seraphina’s Award-Winning Work Accused of Plagiarism, Original Composer Revealed to Be Donovan Corp’s Young Mistress!] The accompanying image was a photo of my “Dirge” manuscript, provided by me, side-by-side with Seraphina’s award-winning score. The similarity was over 90%. Donovan’s temples throbbed. Just then, the butler rushed in frantically: “Sir, young master Caleb is missing! Surveillance shows he took a taxi by himself from the mansion! He had previously installed a tracker on Ms. Elara’s phone; he seems to know where she is.” As raindrops began to pelt the windowpane, I had just finished packing. The weather forecast said heavy rain tonight. I hoped my flight wouldn’t be delayed. The doorbell suddenly rang, and my body stiffened. Only Mr. Sterling, the lawyer, knew my room number at this hotel, and our scheduled meeting was in two hours. Through the peephole, I saw an unexpected figure. Caleb stood outside, completely soaked, his small face indistinguishable between rain and tears. He was tightly clutching a teddy bear. It was the birthday gift I had given him last year. My fingers hovered over the doorknob, trembling slightly. Outside the door, Caleb started ringing the doorbell again, crying: “Mom… I know you’re in there… Please open the door…” I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly stepped back. The doorbell and cries continued for nearly ten minutes, finally turning into desperate pounding. “Mom… I was wrong… I truly know I was wrong…” Caleb’s voice was already hoarse. “Dad and I shouldn’t have been mean to you… Please, give me another chance…” I leaned against the wall beside the door, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. I couldn’t be soft, couldn’t repeat the same mistakes. After what felt like an eternity, silence finally fell outside the door. I looked through the peephole again. Caleb was curled up outside my door, like an abandoned puppy. His school uniform was completely soaked, and the teddy bear lay dirty beside him. My tears finally fell, but I still didn’t open the door. Another half hour passed. The elevator chimed, followed by Donovan’s anxious shouts: “Caleb!” Through the peephole, I saw Donovan scoop up his semi-conscious son, his face showing a panic I had never witnessed before. His gaze suddenly fixed on my door, as if he could see through the thick wood directly into my eyes. “Elara…” His voice was hoarse beyond recognition. “I know you can hear me… I’m sorry, we were wrong. It was because we felt insecure that we kept testing your love. Seraphina was someone we hired; we don’t love her at all. We just used her to put on a show for you. We were wrong. We love you. Please open the door, okay?” I bit my lip fiercely until I tasted blood. Donovan stood outside the door for a long time. Finally, he left with a “You calm down first. I’ll take Caleb to the hospital, and then I’ll come back for you.” In the medical room of the Donovan mansion, the family doctor hooked Caleb up to an IV. “It’s just a cold and fever. He’ll be fine in a few days.” The doctor told Donovan, “However, the child’s emotions are very unstable. It’s best not to provoke him.” Donovan nodded. After the doctor left, he sat by his son’s bed, looking at the small face, so similar to his own, burning crimson. “Dad…” Caleb suddenly opened his eyes, his voice weak but exceptionally clear. “You lied to me.” Donovan started: “What?” “You said Mom would never leave us…” Caleb’s tears flowed down his temples into his hairline. “You said as long as we kept testing her, she’d love us more and more…” Donovan’s throat tightened. He couldn’t utter a word. “Now she doesn’t want us anymore…” Caleb’s voice suddenly rose, sharp with the typical intensity of a child. “It’s all your fault!” The medical room door was abruptly pushed open, and the old butler poked his head in, flustered: “Sir, bad news! Something’s happened at the company.” Donovan’s eyes instantly turned cold. He took one last look at his son, then turned and strode out. He had no choice but to deal with company matters first, but he didn’t expect that in just that short time, I would discard the tracker Caleb had installed on my phone, leave the city, and vanish without a trace! Three days had passed. Donovan had mobilized all his contacts, even reaching out to several old friends who preferred to stay out of the public eye, yet he still couldn’t find a single trace of me. I was like a drop of water, evaporated from the city where I had lived for ten years. The phone rang abruptly. Donovan practically lunged for his desk. “Did you find her?” he asked immediately. “Mr. Donovan, it’s the preschool…” The assistant’s voice was hesitant. “Young master Caleb had a bit of a situation at preschool…” When Donovan arrived at the preschool, he could hear Caleb’s heart-wrenching sobs from afar. The sound was like a dull knife, scraping at his eardrums. In the classroom, five-year-old Caleb was curled up in a corner, his small face streaked with tears, his expensive custom school uniform crumpled around him. Several teachers stood by helplessly, while at the other end of the classroom, a few children were pointing at Caleb and whispering. “What’s going on?” Donovan strode into the classroom, the coldness in his voice making the room temperature feel as if it had dropped several degrees. “Mr. Donovan…” The homeroom teacher nervously came forward. “Today in music class, they taught ‘My Good Mom,’ and Caleb suddenly…” “They said my mom doesn’t want me anymore!” Caleb abruptly looked up, his bloodshot eyes flashing with anger. “Dad, tell them it’s not true! Mom is just… just temporarily angry…” Donovan’s throat bobbed. He crouched down, wanting to hug his son, but Caleb forcefully pushed him away. “Say something!” Caleb’s voice was shrill and distorted. “You said Mom would never leave us!” The classroom was utterly silent. The whispering children were quickly pulled away by their parents, and the teachers discreetly withdrew. Donovan knelt on one knee, his expensive suit pants stained with dust, but he didn’t notice. “We will find Mom,” he tried to make his voice sound convincing, but even he couldn’t convince himself. Caleb suddenly lunged at him, his small fists raining blows on his chest: “It’s all your fault! It’s all because you kept testing Mom! Now she doesn’t want us! She hates us!” Donovan let his son vent, until the small hands ran out of strength and fell limply. He pulled Caleb into his embrace. The boy sobbed on his shoulder, warm tears soaking his shirt. “Let’s go home,” Donovan said softly, picking up his son and walking out. In the hallway, he vaguely heard parents whispering: “I heard Mrs. Donovan got a divorce… now she doesn’t even want her child…” Donovan’s eyes instantly darkened, scaring the person into immediate silence. He strode away, holding Caleb, his back as rigid as an iron slab. Half an hour later, at the Donovan mansion, Seraphina stood at the door, holding an umbrella. After her plagiarism was exposed, her reputation plummeted. With no other options, she had to seek Donovan’s help again. She shakily rang the doorbell. When the staff opened the door, she immediately put on a smile. “Mr. Donovan, I heard Caleb wasn’t feeling well at school?” She handed a meticulously prepared toy and snacks to the butler, her voice full of concern. “I specifically came to see him…” Donovan stood on the stairs, coldly looking down at her: “Get out.” Seraphina’s smile froze: “I just wanted to help…” “I don’t care how you got in, just get out now.” Donovan’s voice was terrifyingly calm. “I don’t need you anymore, do you understand?” Seraphina’s face turned pale, and she instinctively took a step back. She had never seen such a look in Donovan’s eyes. It was as if he was looking at a corpse. “I… I was just thinking that Ms. Elara left, so…” Her voice began to tremble. “Shut up.” Donovan’s voice was very soft, yet it sent a chilling cold through Seraphina. “From now on, if you dare to mention her name again, I will make sure you don’t see tomorrow’s sun. Do you understand?” Seraphina nodded frantically, her high heels catching on the threshold, almost making her fall. She stumbled towards her car, her heart pounding almost out of her chest. As night deepened, in the Donovan mansion, Donovan stood at the door of Caleb’s room, watching his son, who had finally fallen asleep. Even in his sleep, the boy was restless, tears still on his small face, clutching the dirty teddy bear tightly. Donovan quietly closed the door and walked to the study. On the desk, the child custody lawyer’s letter was still spread open, next to all the reports he had gathered about my whereabouts. All useless information. He pulled open a drawer and took out a photo album. It was full of my pictures, from when I first arrived at the Donovan house at eighteen, to a family gathering last year. His fingertips gently traced those smiling faces. He suddenly realized that in most of the photos, I was smiling alone, while he always stood far away, expressionless. A drop of water fell onto the album. Donovan paused, then realized they were his own tears. Outside the window, a bolt of lightning flashed across the night sky, illuminating his pale face. Thunder roared. Meanwhile, hundreds of miles away in another city, piano music flowed from a recording studio. I wore headphones, my fingers precisely adjusting parameters on the mixing console. After this period of treatment, my wrist, once wrapped in bandages, was now moving freely. Only upon close inspection could one see the small scars. “Third measure again, violin part a little softer,” I said into the microphone, my voice carrying through the glass to the band. The sound engineer handed me a cup of hot tea, unable to help but praise: “Ms. Elara, your ear is truly remarkable. I couldn’t even detect an issue in that segment.” I smiled and took the cup. The ring mark on my ring finger had faded to almost invisible. The studio’s logo sparkled on the cup’s surface—[Dirge Music]. This was the studio I had founded with funds from a secret investment five years ago. This money had always been kept in an unregistered account. Not even Donovan knew about it. During a break, my assistant hurried in: “Ms. Elara, the interview with ‘The Musician’ magazine is scheduled for 3 PM this afternoon. They want to focus on your new composition process…” “Tell them they can discuss composition, but not my personal life,” I interrupted, my fingertips unconsciously rubbing the scar on my inner wrist. The assistant hesitated: “But the editor-in-chief said… readers are very concerned about you and Donovan Corp…” My eyes suddenly turned cold: “Then cancel the interview.” “No, no, they promised to only talk about music!” The assistant quickly corrected himself, secretly regretting his slip. Everyone in the studio knew that this seemingly gentle boss never budged on matters of principle, and certain topics were strictly off-limits. The afternoon interview went unexpectedly smoothly, until, at the very end, the female reporter with round-rimmed glasses suddenly asked: “Ms. Elara, I heard you were once a concert pianist. Why did you switch to behind-the-scenes composition?” The recording studio instantly fell silent. I gazed at the pen swinging on the reporter’s chest, a limited-edition Montblanc. Donovan had once given me a similar one. “Because of an accident,” I answered calmly, slowly rolling up my shirt sleeve to reveal the hideous scar on my wrist. “My wrist was injured, and I missed the optimal time for treatment.” The reporter gasped, and the camera immediately zoomed in on the scar. I didn’t shy away; instead, I turned my wrist towards the camera: “Comminuted fracture. The doctor said that if I had had surgery two hours earlier, I could have recovered 80% of its function.” My voice was soft, yet it resounded clearly in the recording studio: “But at the time, someone decided to save another patient with minor injuries first.” The interview video was released at 8 PM that night. By 9 PM, it had already soared to the top of the trending topics. The title was shocking: [Breaking! Genius Pianist Elara Exposes Wrist Injury Inside Story: Donovan Corp CEO Delayed Treatment to Save Mistress.] Donovan Corp’s PR department was in chaos. The CEO’s office phone rang incessantly. Donovan stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, my close-up from the interview on his phone screen. The image of me calmly displaying my scar, my expression serene, made his heart grow cold. It wasn’t the Elara he remembered. The Elara who would be overjoyed by his single word, who would cry heartbrokenly over Caleb’s mere glance, was now like an ice sculpture in front of the camera, even her anger was controlled. “Mr. Donovan, the stock price has fallen seven points…” The CFO’s voice came over the phone. “The board of directors is demanding an emergency statement…” Donovan hung up and clicked on another furiously flashing message group. The group was wildly circulating a recording of Seraphina bragging at a party about how she “handled the Donovan father and son” with foul language. At the end of the recording, she boasted: [What’s “Dirge”? Mrs. Donovan’s entire life is just my stepping stone…] His eyes instantly turned cold. He made a call. “Give Seraphina a lesson.” Late at night, Seraphina left her apartment, still anxious about how to mitigate the negative impact of her plagiarism. She didn’t notice a black van silently trailing behind her. A screech of brakes ripped through the night, followed by a loud “bang.” Bystanders rushed over in a panic, only to see a car skewed against a barrier, all airbags deployed, Seraphina lying face down on the steering wheel, covered in blood. The next morning, Donovan was chairing a crisis management meeting when his secretary rushed in and whispered a few words. He announced a recess without changing his expression, only to smirk when he returned to his office: “It’s handled cleanly?” “Yes, Mr. Donovan,” the man in black said in a low voice. “The car was tampered with, but it won’t be fatal, just a lesson. The hospital has also been taken care of; she won’t remember the details.” Donovan nodded, his gaze falling on the latest issue of “Financial Weekly” on his desk. The cover featured a report on my studio. The accompanying photo showed me guiding young musicians, my profile appearing particularly soft yet resolute under the light. He had found me. But I, it seemed, no longer belonged to him. Rainwater streamed down the studio’s glass window. I stood at the mixing console, my fingertips gently tapping the desk in time with the melody in my headphones. Suddenly, a rapid knocking interrupted my work. “Ms. Elara, there’s a child at the front desk…” My assistant pushed open the door, her expression complex. “He says he’s your son.” My fingers paused in mid-air. I slowly took off my headphones. Through the half-open door, I saw Caleb, soaked through, standing at the front desk. His school uniform pants were muddied, and he was tightly clutching a rain-dampened homework notebook. “Let him in.” My voice was calm, devoid of discernible emotion. Caleb practically burst into the recording studio, his small frame looking particularly frail amidst the expensive equipment. He looked up, rain and tears mingling as they streamed down his face: “Mom… I finally found you. I got a perfect score on my test… Look…” He shakily opened his homework notebook. The handwriting inside was blurred by the rain, but the bright red “100” was still clearly visible. I remembered, I had once promised that if Caleb got a perfect score, I would take him to Disneyland. I took the homework notebook, my expression cold, “Why aren’t you at school?” “I… I snuck out…” Caleb suddenly knelt, his small hands desperately clutching my clothes. “Mom, please come back, okay? I promise I won’t ever bully you with Dad again! I’ll only listen to you from now on!” The recording studio was terrifyingly silent, save for the sound of rain hitting the window. I crouched down, meeting my son’s gaze, but I didn’t help him up. “Caleb, do you know why I had to leave?” Caleb frantically shook his head, big tears streaming down his face: “Because Dad and I were mean to you, even though we loved you, we still bullied you… But we really know we were wrong…” “No,” my voice was soft. “You still haven’t realized your mistake.” I took out a stack of photographs from a drawer and spread them on the floor— They were all the secretly taken images from the Donovan family study, and the photos of Caleb’s glass jars filled with my hair. “Healthy children don’t collect their mother’s hair. Normal husbands don’t monitor their wives’ every move,” I said, pointing towards the school roof dimly visible through the rainy curtain outside the window. “There’s a parent-child activity there today. I’ll take you to see what true love is.” The school activity room was filled with laughter and joy. I stood in the corner with Caleb, watching parents lift their children high, listening to their unreserved praise and encouragement. “Mom, that little girl fell down…” Caleb suddenly whispered. I looked at the little girl, about four years old, who had tumbled to the ground not far away. Her mother immediately crouched down, but didn’t rush to help her up: “Sweetheart, can you stand up by yourself? Mommy’s here waiting for you.” The little girl stopped crying and smiled, picking herself up and throwing herself into her mother’s outstretched arms. Caleb’s eyes were wide, and his small hand unconsciously tightened its grip on my fingers: “Her mom… isn’t worried she’ll run away?” “True love isn’t about restraint, it’s about trust. Like a kite, if the string is held too tightly, it will break.” Caleb nodded, seeming to understand, but his eyes gradually grew confused. Just then, the activity room door was violently pushed open. Donovan burst in, bringing with him a chilling aura. “Caleb!” His roar instantly silenced the entire room. Several children were startled and hid in their parents’ arms. Donovan strode over and grabbed Caleb’s wrist: “Who gave you permission to skip school?” Caleb stumbled from the yank, but then suddenly struggled: “I’m not going back! I want to be with Mom!” I let go of his hand. I chose to ignore Donovan and Caleb’s intense stares, turning to leave. In the car ride back, Caleb was huddled in the corner, softly sobbing. Donovan, recalling my indifferent gaze earlier, irritably loosened his tie. “What is it?” On the other end of the line, Mr. Sterling’s voice was filled with anxiety: “Mr. Donovan, bad news! Linwood Group just released information saying they have evidence of our illegal surveillance! The board of directors is demanding an emergency meeting!” Donovan’s knuckles turned white. Three days later, the entertainment world exploded. [Elara Posts Accusation: Former Husband Mentally Abused Her.] The article detailed Donovan’s years of pathological control over me, sending shockwaves across the internet! Late that night, I was working late at the studio. As I turned off the lights and prepared to leave, a strong smell of alcohol hit me. “Elara…” Donovan leaned against the doorframe, his tie loose, his eyes bloodshot. “…Are you satisfied now?” I said: “Please leave.” “I asked if you’re satisfied now!” Donovan suddenly erupted, punching the wall. My expression remained unchanged: “I merely brought the truth to light.” Donovan suddenly laughed, a sound more awful than crying: “What will it take for you to come back?” He staggered forward, trying to grab my hand: “What do you want? My life?” I took a step back, avoiding his touch: “Only on the day I die.” My voice was as light as a sigh, “After all, only dead things will belong to you forever, won’t they?” Donovan seemed stunned by my words. As he left, he turned back one last time to look at me, standing in the light. Rain lashed against the windows of the black car. I slowly awoke in the back seat. A dull ache throbbed at the back of my head, and my wrists were chafed raw by coarse ropes. I squinted, discerning the fleeting scenery outside through the rain. They were driving towards the winding mountain roads on the outskirts of the city. “Awake?” Donovan’s voice came from the front seat, laced with a pathological tenderness. “Go back to sleep for a bit; we’ll be there soon.” I didn’t make a sound, quietly wiggling my bound ankles. The car rounded a sharp bend, and familiar scenery flashed past— This was the road to the old Donovan estate. The mansion had been vacant for years, nestled deep within the dense woods halfway up the mountain. Three hours later, I was locked in an upstairs bedroom. Thick curtains blocked all light, only a sliver of light seeped in under the door. The lock turned, and Donovan walked in carrying a tray of food. He had changed clothes, his hair neatly combed, as if this weren’t an abduction, but some formal date. “Eat something.” He placed the tray by the bedside and reached out to touch my face, but I turned my head away. Donovan’s hand froze in mid-air, his eyes gradually darkening: “Do you have to be like this? We can clearly start over…” “Unlawful confinement is a criminal offense.” My voice was hoarse from dehydration. “If you let me go now, I can pretend nothing happened.” “Let you go?” Donovan suddenly burst into laughter, the sound echoing in the empty bedroom. “Let you live freely abroad?” He abruptly gripped my chin: “Listen closely. You belong only to me. For this entire life!” I looked directly into his frantic eyes, calmly saying: “Then you’ll only get a corpse.” Donovan’s eyes turned cold. He staggered back two steps: “Then we’ll die together.” I counted the minutes until silence completely fell outside the door. I struggled to move to the window, tearing open a corner of the curtain with my teeth—outside was a steep cliff, rainwater snaking across the glass like rivers. After an unknown amount of time, I was too weak to even get up. I refused all food and water, my lips cracked and bleeding. Sounds of an argument came from outside the door, and a childish voice was especially clear. “Dad! Are you crazy? Mom will die!” “Shut up! She doesn’t want you, and you’re still defending her?” “You were the one who tested her! You were the one who hurt her! I hate you!” After a struggle, the muffled thud of a heavy object falling. I struggled to crawl towards the door, hearing Caleb’s muffled sobs: “I’m calling the police… I’m going to save Mom…” “How dare you!” Donovan’s enraged roar rang out. My heart almost stopped. I used all my strength to crash into the bedside table. The shattering sound of a vase hitting the floor finally drew attention. The door was violently pushed open, and Caleb’s small figure rushed in. The boy’s left cheek was swollen and red, but his eyes widened the moment he saw me: “Mom!” Caleb shakily pulled out his phone: “I… I secretly called the police… they’ll be here any minute…” Donovan stood at the doorway, his face ashen, like a zombie. Police sirens grew louder, but he showed no intention of escaping. He just stared intently at me: “Why… why can’t you just love me…” I didn’t answer. Donovan offered no resistance, calmly extending his hands for the handcuffs. When the officer asked if I wanted to press charges, Donovan looked back at me, his gaze so unsettling that even the officer took a half-step back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “298532”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #现实主义Realistic

For fifty long years, Clara had poured her entire life into Arthur. When he was injured and disabled during a mission, she quit her respectable and stable job as a TV anchor, staying by his side, massaging his legs daily. He’d claimed he never wanted children, and for that, she suffered ten miscarriages, leaving her permanently infertile. Yet, not once did she utter a single word of complaint. Everyone used to say Arthur had won the cosmic lottery, blessed beyond measure to have a wife like Clara. But it wasn’t until Arthur finally passed away, after Clara had devoted her entire life to him, that she realized that in his eyes, she was never a blessing. She was merely an obstacle, a burden preventing him from being with his real wife and child. “How could that be? I’m Arthur’s wife, why can’t I get his death certificate?” At the City Hall Registrar’s office, a white-haired Clara clutched Arthur’s ashes, utterly bewildered as she questioned the clerk. “Ma’am, only immediate family can process a death certificate. According to our database, you are still registered as unmarried.” Clara’s trembling hand reached for her reading glasses, her gaze scanning the computer screen again and again. The clerk hadn’t lied. After fifty years with Arthur, her marital status still read: UNMARRIED! Before she could even process this bombshell, the clerk added, “We found that a Mr. Arthur was married fifty years ago. His wife was Vanessa, and they even had a child named Leo.” “Although Ms. Vanessa has passed away, you can reach out to Mr. Leo to process Mr. Arthur’s death certificate.” The moment she heard the names Vanessa and Leo, Clara felt a ringing in her ears, her world tilting on its axis. But… wasn’t Vanessa his *late brother’s* wife? His widowed sister-in-law? And Leo, his nephew? How had they suddenly become his wife and son? What was she, then? All these years, she’d tirelessly cared for Arthur, tended to the ailing Vanessa… What did that make her? A maid? Clara stumbled out of the City Hall Registrar’s office, her mind a dizzying blur. On the street, her phone buzzed with a call from Leo. “Aunt Clara,” Leo’s voice chirped, laced with a smug, almost gleeful tone, “Uncle Arthur left his entire estate to me. You don’t mind, do you?” “After all, I’m the last remaining bloodline of the Hamilton family. But he did leave a will, giving you a spot in the family mausoleum. Later, you can be buried alongside him.” “It’s our way of thanking you for taking care of him and my mom all these years.” Clara couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. Fifty years of sacrifice, all for a chance to be buried next to him after death! Arthur, even on his deathbed, was still looking out for his “son.” Had he not once considered how *she* would live, with no job, no pension, facing the rest of her days utterly alone? Any lingering affection Clara had for Arthur finally evaporated, replaced by a burning hatred for the fifty years of deceit. She gazed at the urn in her hands, clutched so many times it was slick with sweat. She wanted to smash it on the spot! But fate, it seemed, wouldn’t even grant her that small catharsis. A runaway truck barreled towards her— *CRASH!* Clara’s vision exploded into a blinding, searing red. People seemed to be gathering around her, whispering and pointing. “Oh, I know that old lady. Her husband just passed, and she has no kids of her own. Guess it was her time, too.” “Yeah, completely alone in the world. Going with her husband, that’s not so bad. Maybe they’ll find love again in the next life.” No, no! Clara’s spirit furiously shook its head. If there truly was a next life, she would absolutely never, ever get involved with Arthur Hamilton again! … “Clara, have you thought this through?” “Are you truly going to give up the anchor job you worked so hard for, abandon your career, just to take care of your husband?” “You’re the backbone of our station, Clara! And you know there’s a scholarship for overseas study, an exchange program, leaving in seven days. This kind of opportunity is once in a lifetime. I’d already decided to put your name forward. Please, think about it carefully!” Clara stared at Director Hayes, the heartbroken head of the TV station, needing a moment to process his words. Arthur’s accident, her resignation—wasn’t this what happened in 1977? She had… reincarnated? 2 Clara didn’t hesitate. She clasped Director Hayes’s hand firmly. “Director, you’re absolutely right! I shouldn’t give up my future!” “Consider that resignation letter as never submitted!” Director Hayes let out a sigh of relief, giving her a gentle pat. “I’m glad you came to your senses, Clara.” “You’re about my daughter’s age, so don’t mind me for saying this, but giving up your career for a man is never a wise choice.” Clara nodded, a bittersweet ache in her heart. In her previous life, it had taken her an entire lifetime to learn that lesson. Thankfully, in this life, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to waste her love and devotion on the heartless Hamilton family. She glanced at the list Director Hayes was holding and spotted a familiar name. Director Hayes noticed her gaze and smiled. “Julian is a top anchor at the national network now. I remember he was your senior in college, right? You two can look out for each other abroad.” “Oh, I’ll contact him now. You can fly together on the private jet that day.” Clara thought of Julian, always so refined and gentle, and a flicker of anticipation stirred within her. Julian Miller. It had indeed been a long time. Returning home from the TV station, Clara reached for the doorknob, but paused, hearing Vanessa’s soft, syrupy voice from inside. “Arthur, you married me for Leo’s sake, giving Clara a fake marriage certificate to keep her in the dark. Now you’re injured, and I can’t quit my job to care for you and Leo, so you’re faking emotional instability to trick her into coming back.” “You’ve done so much for me. I truly don’t know how to thank you.” Arthur’s clear, deep voice replied, but his words pierced Clara’s heart like knives. “Don’t mention it, Vanessa. We grew up together. You chose my brother back then, but that doesn’t mean there’s no affection between us. My brother’s gone; it’s my duty to care for you and your son. The Hamilton family fortune will only ever go to Leo.” “As for Clara… you know I love her, and I’ve certainly wronged her. But she’s content with simple things; she doesn’t care about titles or empty promises. When we’re gone, being buried together will be enough compensation.” Vanessa’s voice returned, “But if she found out how you’re treating her, wouldn’t she leave you?” Arthur chuckled, his tone brimming with arrogant confidence. “How could she? She’s always been carefree and easygoing. As long as we don’t tell her, she won’t know. Besides, even if she did find out, she loves me too much to ever leave.” “I give my companionship to you, and my love to her. Isn’t that perfectly fair?” Clara’s fingers, wrapped around the doorknob, clenched abruptly. Arthur was utterly shameless, and far too confident. He actually believed Clara would endure all her grievances for love of him. But alas, she was no longer the Clara of her past life, the one who loved him to her very bones. Clara lifted a hand to wipe away a stray tear, then pushed the door open. The room fell silent in an instant. The dashing man in uniform, with his strong brows and captivating gaze, sat in his wheelchair, his lips slightly red. What they had just been doing was painfully obvious. A flicker of panic crossed Arthur’s eyes, quickly masked by the same irritable demeanor he’d displayed recently. “Clara, coming home so late? Are you trying to starve me?” Ever since his accident, his personality had become volatile and unpredictable, a far cry from his former gentle and considerate self. If she hadn’t just overheard his conversation with Vanessa, Clara would never have known he was faking it. All just to make her feel soft, to make her quit her job and return to care for him, to become the tireless, dutiful maid of the Hamilton household! Noticing Clara’s less-than-pleased expression, Vanessa quickly stepped in to play the peacemaker. “Now, now, Arthur. Clara’s planning to quit her job to come back and take care of you, isn’t she? Maybe she just got delayed on her way home from work.” Arthur, who had been as cold as an iceberg moments ago, instantly softened. “It’s alright, Vanessa. I was just giving her a hard time. She’s been so thoughtless.” “Your delicate stomach can’t wait for her to come back to cook, and Leo is still so young. How can I let you two wait?” Vanessa playfully tapped his wheelchair. “It’s not that serious… Ouch!” She cried out, and Arthur nearly sprang from his wheelchair in alarm. “Vanessa, what’s wrong?” “Nothing major. Just a splinter in my hand.” But Arthur still looked worried. He grabbed Vanessa’s hand and pulled her towards the bedroom. “A woman’s hands are delicate treasures. How is this not serious? We’re going upstairs to put some cream on it!” They left, oblivious to Clara, their intimate atmosphere thick with unspoken desire. Clara had thought her heart was beyond stirring, yet a sharp pang shot through her. He kept spouting platitudes about how precious a woman’s hands were, but she had countless times complained about her hands, chapped and sore from laundry, longing for a fancy moisturizer. Arthur had bought one, but he’d given it to Vanessa. He’d said, “Her job is special; she needs it more.” Back then, Clara couldn’t understand why his sister-in-law, a primary school teacher, would need hand cream more than she, a TV anchor who needed presentable hands. She could only attribute it to Arthur’s kindness towards his widowed sister-in-law. Now she understood. It wasn’t that women’s hands were precious; it was Vanessa’s hands that were precious to him. He simply didn’t care about her; he cared more about Vanessa. Thankfully, in seven days, she would be on a plane, flying across the ocean, far away from the Hamilton family’s sordid, twisted mess, never to return. 3 Clara quietly prepared dinner. She was an excellent cook, and Leo, smelling the delicious aroma, scampered out of his room. Seeing Clara carrying a steaming bowl of seafood porridge, a smirk, full of pure malice, spread across his small face. He stuck out his leg. Clara stumbled, the hot porridge splashing all over her, making her cry out in pain. But her cry was instantly drowned out by Leo’s wails. “Aunt Clara! I know you don’t like me, but how could you intentionally scald me?” “Waaah! Mommy, it hurts so much!” Hearing the cries, Vanessa and Arthur rushed over. Vanessa hugged Leo protectively, her eyes welling up with tears. “Clara, if you have an issue with me because of your resignation, take it out on me, don’t pick on my Leo!” Clara tried to explain, but Arthur brutally pushed her away. She staggered back, her waist slamming into a nearby cabinet, the pain so intense she nearly couldn’t straighten up. Arthur seemed blind to her suffering, speaking with disgust, “Clara, Leo is just a child! He’s my late brother’s only son! How can you be so vicious?” Clara looked up, glancing at the small, nail-sized redness on Leo’s arm, then down at the angry blisters covering her own arm. It was utterly ironic. For such a tiny scratch, he’d slapped such a heavy accusation on her. Yet, for that tiny scratch, Arthur was beside himself with worry, even insisting on taking Leo to the hospital. Before leaving, Leo, nestled in Arthur’s arms, stuck out his tongue at Clara. Clara watched his triumphant, mocking face and suddenly remembered the time he’d had a high fever. Vanessa was nowhere to be found, busy with who-knew-what, and Arthur was away on a mission. Clara came home from work to find Leo burning up with fever, almost delirious. The last bus had already left, and there were no taxis around to take them to the hospital. She stumbled and ran, carrying Leo on her back, all the way to the hospital, where she stayed by his side, hooked up to an IV drip for two days. She had truly loved Leo like her own child. Having no children of her own in her previous life, she had poured all her energy into supporting him. The inheritance her parents left her, she hadn’t spent a dime on herself, instead buying Leo a car and a house. But what had it all amounted to? That smug, self-satisfied phone call just before her death, and the malicious taunt from the child before her now, made Clara feel utterly worthless. True love wasn’t enough; her sincerity was met with nothing but deceit. Leo, at such a young age, had already gone completely astray. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to give him anything more. She turned and walked back to her room to treat her own wounds. The blisters on her arm were alarmingly large. Gritting her teeth, she used a needle sterilized over a flame to pierce them, then sprinkled on some medicine powder, but the pain was still excruciating. To distract herself, Clara started packing her luggage. After half a day of effort, she only managed to fill a single, small bag. It was almost laughable. In all her years with Arthur, she owned only a few changes of clothes, a couple of pairs of shoes. Her few pieces of jewelry were all heirlooms from her deceased parents. The Hamilton family wasn’t poor. Arthur’s parents were retired military, and Arthur himself had been a Colonel in the army, earning a generous monthly stipend of several hundred dollars. Yet, she calculated, all these years, she had never received a single cent from Arthur. In fact, she’d used her own salary to supplement their household expenses, never daring to spend money on herself. But Vanessa, a primary school teacher earning a modest salary, was adorned with a collection of gold necklaces and bracelets. Clara once again realized Arthur’s blatant favoritism, a thin, sharp thorn piercing her heart. She continued packing, finally reaching into the very back of the drawer where she’d carefully hidden her two marriage certificates. She still remembered the day Arthur brought them home, his face etched with guilt. “My brother hasn’t been gone long, so we can’t have a big wedding, Clara. I’m so sorry to put you through this.” “From now on, you’ll be the lady of the Hamilton house. I promise to be good to you.” Now, looking back, was he truly feeling guilty about not having a big wedding? His two short sentences, both utter lies, had deceived her for a lifetime, leaving her utterly heartbroken! Clara fought back tears, ripping the two fake certificates, now no more than worthless paper, into tiny shreds. 4 By the time Arthur returned from the hospital with Vanessa and Leo, Clara was already in bed. But because of the searing pain in her hand, her sleep was restless. The moment Arthur pushed open the door, she woke with a jolt. Hearing the sound of his wheelchair approaching, Clara’s heart was in knots. She felt a deep aversion to Arthur now. The thought of sleeping in the same bed as him made her stomach churn. Thankfully, Arthur stopped. Vanessa’s soft voice called to him from the doorway. “Arthur, Leo seems to be having a nightmare.” At those simple words, Arthur turned and left the room without hesitation. The room fell silent again, but moments later, strange noises began to filter through from next door. Clara tried to ignore them, but the night was still, and her hearing was unnervingly sharp. She heard fragmented moans from a woman and the heavy breathing of a man. “Arthur, easy! What if Clara finds out?” “Then keep your voice down, Vanessa. Clara’s next door, doesn’t that make it even more exciting for you?” “Oh, you! Don’t call me Vanessa at a time like this, darling.” “Hmm? You want me to call you wife? You’re such a tease.” “It’s only because you said Clara was unresponsive in bed, like a cold fish. What, you don’t like me this way?” “I love it, of course I love it. I love my wife the most.” Their explicit words, raw and vulgar, drilled into Clara’s ears. She never imagined that, separated by a single wall, she would become a prop in their foreplay. And from their words, it seemed this wasn’t their first time. Clara remembered Arthur’s repeated assurances that his relationship with Vanessa was purely one of care and responsibility. She could only laugh at the bitter irony. Caring for his widowed sister-in-law? Caring for her right into his bed? He clearly wasn’t afraid of his late brother coming back to haunt him! She wondered how many nights they had spent together under the guise of Leo having nightmares. A wave of nausea surged through Clara. She struggled to get up, rushing to the bathroom to throw up. Hearing the sounds, Arthur quickly emerged from Vanessa’s room. His eyes still held traces of lingering lust, but his voice was full of feigned concern. “Clara, are you alright?” “Did you not eat tonight? Is your stomach upset from hunger?” He stepped closer, gently patting Clara’s back. As if he wasn’t the same man who had slapped her for Leo, the same man who had been having an illicit encounter with Vanessa next door. Arthur had always been like this. After slapping her, he would offer her a few sweet crumbs. Making her sad again and again, yet making her believe he still loved her. But now, she only felt revulsion, as if she would vomit up her very bile. Her stomach was empty, and a mysterious pain bloomed in her lower abdomen. Clara wanted to stand up, to distance herself from Arthur, but the moment she rose, her vision went black. Before she lost consciousness completely, she heard Arthur’s panicked shouts. “Clara, wake up!” 5 When Clara woke again, she was in the hospital. She smelled the sterile scent of disinfectant, and before she even opened her eyes, she heard Vanessa’s deliberately lowered voice beside her. “Arthur, even though Leo cried several times when he found out about her pregnancy, it’s still your flesh and blood. You don’t always have to put us first.” Her passive-aggressive tactic was always perfectly timed. Arthur’s reply was decisive. “No, we can’t keep this baby.” “I’ll lie to Clara, tell her the baby has a defect so she’ll terminate the pregnancy. Leo feels insecure, and I can’t let him be upset.” He offered Vanessa a few more words of comfort, then turned and met Clara’s gaze. A flicker of panic crossed Arthur’s face. “Clara, you… you’re awake? When did you wake up? Why didn’t you say anything?” Clara spoke, her voice hoarse. “Just now.” “Then did you hear what the doctor said?” Arthur’s cautious probe made Clara pull at the corner of her mouth in a bitter smile. “I didn’t hear anything. Weren’t you the only one here just now?” Hearing her say that, Arthur visibly relaxed, then hesitated before speaking again. “Clara, you’re pregnant. Two months along.” “But the doctor told me the baby might not be developing well. He suggested we terminate the pregnancy. Do you agree?” Arthur felt a pang of guilt. He knew Clara had longed for a child of their own for a long time. But for Leo’s sake, he had to do this. He had even prepared fake medical reports, expecting Clara to be reluctant to give up the baby. To his surprise, before he could even produce them, Clara on the hospital bed simply whispered, “Okay.” Arthur almost thought he’d misheard. “What did you say?” Clara repeated calmly, “I said, okay. Let’s terminate this pregnancy.” Born into a home devoid of love, this child would be unfortunate. Arthur didn’t want her to have a child who might steal Leo’s inheritance, and she certainly didn’t want her child to have to fight for their father’s affection. A child should have it all. If not, then it was better not to have one at all. Arthur looked at Clara, so decisive, and felt a strange tightness in his chest. For some reason, he felt like Clara had changed, somehow. But what exactly was different, he couldn’t pinpoint. He simply told himself he was overthinking things. She was being so compliant; he should be happy. Clara underwent the abortion. It was her first since her rebirth, but her eleventh across two lifetimes. When she felt that warm flow from within her, Clara still couldn’t stop her eyes from welling up. Arthur, holding her hand, tried to comfort her, “Don’t be sad, Clara. We’ll have other children.” But they both knew it was a lie. There wouldn’t be. Never again. Clara didn’t respond, and Arthur didn’t know what else to say. The atmosphere between them grew awkward. But thinking back, this was a rare moment of peace. Ever since Vanessa and Leo moved into their house, Clara had been like a different person—fussy, unreasonable. Now, looking at Clara’s pale face, Arthur’s heart softened slightly. He was about to say something, to tell her he would be good to her, that she shouldn’t always overthink things, when the hospital room door opened again. Vanessa walked in, smiling, carrying a lunchbox. “Poor Clara, you’ve been through so much. I went to that popular diner and bought some food to help you recover.” The tin lunchbox opened, revealing a generous portion of greasy braised pork, fatty pork hocks, and even some shrimp. Clara took one look and felt nauseous. But Arthur, relieved, unhesitatingly took the box and placed it before her. “Vanessa, these dishes are hard to come by. Even after Clara made such a scene, you’re still so thoughtful. You really have a good heart.” Then, he winked at Clara. Clara pretended not to see him. She knew exactly what Arthur meant: he wanted her to apologize to Vanessa, using this “kindness” as an easy out. But why should she? She hadn’t done anything wrong. The ones who had committed the sordid acts were him and Vanessa! Clara remained silent, but Vanessa immediately seized the opportunity. “Yes, I stood in line for ages, my legs almost cramped up.” As she spoke, she casually lifted the hem of her dress. Arthur’s gaze fell on Vanessa’s smooth, shapely calves, and his eyes darkened. “Clara, you eat first. I’ll take Vanessa to an acupuncturist for her leg. After all, she got cramped up because of you.” Clara looked at him. Through two lifetimes, over fifty years, she knew Arthur’s current state intimately. He was aroused. He was aroused by Vanessa, right here in the hospital, while she lay recovering from her abortion. 6 But she simply said, “Okay, go ahead.” The next two days unfolded in the same way. Vanessa would come to deliver food, always complaining of some ache or pain, and Arthur would take her out for a “massage.” Arthur completely disregarded the fact that Clara couldn’t eat any of the rich, heavy dishes Vanessa brought. After three days in the hospital, Clara had lost a noticeable amount of weight. Even the nurses looked at her with pity. Clara merely offered a faint smile, feeling no sadness at all. Perhaps she had become desensitized. Now, even if she saw Arthur and Vanessa openly together, her heart wouldn’t stir in the slightest. However, she hadn’t expected that even after retreating so completely, wanting only to leave soon, some people still considered her an eyesore. Returning from the hospital, she found her neatly packed bag had been rummaged through. A bad feeling bloomed in Clara’s chest. She checked, and her jade bracelet, hidden in the deepest corner, was gone. Her mother and father had a deep, loving relationship. Her father had died a hero years ago, and her mother had remained a widow for most of her life. This jade bracelet was a token of her father’s love for her mother, and her mother’s only keepsake. On her deathbed, her mother had given the bracelet to Arthur, asking him to put it on Clara’s wrist himself, promising to be good to her for life. Arthur had sworn then and there, “If I’m ever not good to Clara, let me be abandoned by all, and my family destroyed!” Clara had quickly covered his mouth. Back then, she truly believed Arthur. It was only after she discovered he had been deceiving her all along that she took off the bracelet. But where was the bracelet now? Clara frantically searched, turning the house upside down. Until she saw Leo, playing in the yard with a group of friends, casually swinging *her* jade bracelet. Clara’s heart leaped into her throat. “Leo, give me back my bracelet!” Leo turned, sticking out his tongue at her. “My mom doesn’t even have a bracelet like this, why should you get to have it?” “I’ll smash it before I let you wear it, nyah nyah nyah!” He carelessly tossed the bracelet to the ground. *CRACK!* The bracelet shattered into several pieces. Not content, Leo stomped on the fragments. “Useless bracelet, useless bracelet! Here, you can have it back! Go pick it up yourself!” The string of rationality in Clara’s mind snapped. She lunged forward, slapping Leo’s smug face. Leo fell to the ground, immediately bursting into loud wails. “Mean lady! She’s bullying me! I’ll tell Daddy to kick you out!” “Clara! You’re bullying Leo again!” Clara, who had just managed to pick up the shattered pieces of the bracelet and stand, was sent sprawling by an enraged Arthur. Sharp fragments instantly dug into her palm, leaving a bloody mess. Arthur didn’t even glance at her. He pushed his wheelchair to Leo’s side, cradling him and soothing him softly. “Leo, it’s Aunt Clara’s fault. I’ll make her apologize to you.” Clara, of course, refused. “He was the one who smashed my bracelet first! Do you know that bracelet was my mom’s—” Arthur impatiently cut her off, “Your mom is dead! It’s just a cheap bracelet! You can buy another one!” Clara staggered back two steps, swaying precariously. Arthur realized he’d spoken too harshly, a flicker of guilt crossing his eyes. But that flicker vanished without a trace when he saw Vanessa’s tears. “Arthur, I think Leo and I should just move out. I can take care of Leo on my own, and then we won’t interfere with your relationship.” Looking at Vanessa, who was bravely suppressing her own hurt while still considering their feelings, and then at the stubborn Clara, Arthur quickly made his choice. His face filled with disappointment. “Clara, I’m asking you one more time: are you really not going to apologize to Leo?” “I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I apologize?” “Fine! Fine! Your temper is getting more and more unreasonable, Clara. Don’t blame me for what happens next!” Arthur let out a furious laugh, immediately contacting his subordinates in the army. “I suspect Clara is in contact with foreign powers, selling state secrets. Take her in and interrogate her thoroughly!” The “evidence” he presented was the foreign language letter sent by the overseas professor Director Hayes had arranged! 7 Clara felt as though she’d been plunged into icy water, cold from head to toe. The current political climate was much more open than before, but being linked to foreign powers would still inevitably lead to intense interrogation. Arthur, being in the army himself, had seen those who were interrogated, even describing their horrific plight to her. Yet now, to protect Leo and Vanessa, he was willingly sending her there himself. She was escorted away. Before they left, Arthur leaned in and whispered a few words to her. “Did you think by faking a study abroad letter, you could play hard to get? That I’d kick out Vanessa and Leo for you? This is a lesson for you, Clara. Don’t get any wild ideas!” If he had only looked down, at that moment he uttered his cruel words, Clara’s last shred of hope for him had utterly died. But he didn’t. He had abandoned her countless times before; why would this time be any different? Clara didn’t resist, had no strength to. She was thrown into a dark interrogation room, the cold, damp air instantly raising goosebumps all over her. The man in charge of her interrogation was one of Arthur’s subordinates. His eyes were filled with disdain. He held a whip and lashed it directly at her! *WHIP! WHIP!* Again and again, the salt-soaked whip left deep, bleeding gashes on her body. Clara screamed, unable to control herself, her voice raw with pain. She demanded coldly, “Is this a proper interrogation method? You’re just pure sadism!” Her screams and accusations did not stir a hint of pity in the man. Instead, he whipped her even harder. “Our Colonel Hamilton is upright and just! He lost his legs for our country! And you, you collude with foreign powers? You’re a disgrace to him!” “Colonel Hamilton specifically told me to give you a good lesson. He said he’d take responsibility for anything that happened. Clara, I advise you to confess honestly: what did that letter truly say?” Was his love truly that deep? Did Arthur love Vanessa and Leo so much that he would let her endure such torture? She was in a daze from the pain, about to speak, when the man sneered again. “Forget it. You’ll just argue anyway. Beat her first! Drag her out and beat her hard!” He waved his hand, and two men immediately appeared, dragging Clara away. Four days. The nightmare lasted for a grueling four days. She didn’t know how many lashes she’d endured; her fingers were constantly bruised and swollen from being crushed. Each time Clara lost consciousness, a bucket of saltwater would be mercilessly thrown on her, jolting her awake. Her entire body felt like it had no good flesh left; every inch of her skin screamed in agony. Clara even thought she was going to die there. Until the interrogation room door opened, and Vanessa pushed Arthur in, seated in his wheelchair. Arthur looked down at her, bound and broken, a flicker of pity in his eyes. “Clara, four days have passed. Do you regret what you’ve done?” “Vanessa is broad-minded; she won’t hold a grudge about you trying to push her and Leo out. Just apologize properly, and I’ll take you home.” Clara’s heart had long died, but hearing his words, she couldn’t help but let out a cynical laugh. “Oh, really? Fine. I’m sorry.” “I shouldn’t have had issues with Vanessa and Leo. I shouldn’t have interfered with your efforts to flirt with them. And most of all, I shouldn’t have appeared in the Hamilton house at all, disturbing your perfect little family of three. Is that enough?” Arthur looked at her bloodshot eyes, and a sudden panic seized him. “Clara, that’s not what I meant!” “Vanessa and I are completely innocent. I only promised my late brother I’d take good care of her and Leo. You know that, don’t you? Why can’t you understand me a little?” Vanessa added fuel to the fire. “Indeed, Clara clearly misunderstood our relationship. Arthur, perhaps Leo and I shouldn’t appear before you two anymore.” Arthur rejected the idea without a second thought. “No! This is the second time, Vanessa. I don’t want to hear you say that again. If you and Leo leave, how will I face my brother?” Arthur looked at Clara, his eyes filled with disappointment. “Clara, you truly are too unreasonable. Stay here and reflect!” He turned his wheelchair, leaving in a huff. Vanessa didn’t rush to follow him. She walked up to Clara, casually lifting her chin. “See? With just a little effort, Arthur won’t listen to a word you say.” As she spoke, she ran a hand over her slightly swollen belly, her expression smug and triumphant. “You don’t know yet, do you, Clara? I’m pregnant with Arthur’s child.” 8 Clara’s head shot up. She squeezed out a single sentence from her raw throat. “How many months?” Vanessa smiled. “Three months, actually.” Three months. A month older than the child she hadn’t been able to keep.

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