Author: Momo Chan

For three years, I raised the bastard my serpent husband had fathered with my own younger sister. Because I believed he was mine. Three years ago, I suffered an accident while pregnant. When I woke up, the pup inside me was gone. My husband showed me paperwork from a shifter hospital and told me my body could no longer carry the baby, but my sister had agreed to act as my surrogate and preserve my bloodline. He said the child growing inside her carried my blood. He said she was only giving birth to him for me. So no matter how much I hated her, I endured it. When my sister cramped during heat, I brewed medicine for her. When pregnancy made her ears painfully sensitive and kept her awake at night, I brushed the knots from her snow-leopard fur and sat beside her bed. When she went into labor, I knelt outside the delivery room for an entire day and night. The little snake she gave birth to curled around my wrist, lifted his wet, innocent slit-pupiled eyes to me, and called me Mommy. Meanwhile, his real mother took my husband into the mating den that should have belonged to me every single night. Three years ago, I caught them in bed. In a rage, I slapped them both. My husband was a black-and-gold king cobra. He offered no explanation and showed no guilt. He only wrapped his freezing tail around my ankle and told me that the shock I had caused had sent my father and brother into severe feral episodes. They had been committed to the highest-security shifter containment facility in the country. If I ever touched my sister again, he would make sure they died in there wearing suppression collars. For my father, my brother, and the hatchling I believed was my own flesh and blood, I lowered my snow-leopard ears and endured three years of humiliation. Only after the hatchling’s first-moon celebration did I dare ask my husband to release my family. He lounged behind his desk, his black tail draped over the edge, and opened a video call. My father was holding the hatchling. My brother sat beside my sister, gently brushing out her white tail. They had never been committed. For three years, they had been with her the entire time. They watched me care for her. Watched me raise her child. Watched me submit because I was terrified of what might happen to them. Then my husband casually told me the truth. My father and brother had been the ones who delivered my sister to his mating den in the first place. The hospital records were fake. The surrogacy was fake. My baby had died in that accident three years ago. The little snake I had cherished and raised was the bastard my husband had conceived with my sister. They had even placed bets on how I would react once I found out. My sister bet I would trash the office. My father bet I would hurt myself. My brother bet I would demand they send her away. My husband bet I would cling to his tail and beg him not to abandon me. Laughter poured through the phone. My silver ears slowly flattened beneath the sound. But I did not scream. I did not beg. I wiped away my tears and lifted my head. “If you want to compensate me, give me one hundred million dollars.” For the first time, my husband’s smile froze. Then I named my price for the others. Fifty million from my father. Thirty million from my brother. Three years of servitude. Ten years of marriage. Every time I had called them Dad and Brother. I was willing to sell all of it. Once the money arrived, we would be even. My father and brother called me greedy and vulgar. They said I was unworthy of the snow-leopard bloodline. My sister pressed herself against my husband, her soft ears lowered as she pretended to plead on my behalf. My husband opened a drawer and pulled out a bond-dissolution agreement. My sister had given birth to a male serpent heir. Only a son born to a legally registered mate could enter the main bloodline and inherit his corporate empire. So he intended to dissolve our marriage, register my sister as his mate, and legitimize the hatchling. He told me it was nothing more than paperwork. His fangs had already marked the back of my neck. His mating venom still lived in my blood. Once the hatchling was entered into the family registry, he would divorce my sister and bring me home again. “You will always be my mate.” That was what he said. I picked up the pen and signed my name without hesitation.

My husband could not believe I had agreed to dissolve our bond so easily. He stared at my lowered ears and asked whether money was truly all I cared about. He even pulled the agreement halfway out of my reach and told me that if I begged, he would tear it up on the spot. But all I could remember was the night I lost my baby three years ago. I had been five months pregnant, curled alone inside our mating den while pain tore through my body. My snow-leopard tail wound so tightly around the bedpost that my muscles cramped. Sweat soaked the fur around my ears. I called my husband seventeen times. He never answered. He returned at dawn. My sister’s sweet heat scent clung to his collar, and the black scales along his throat were still warm from mating. I was lying in a bed soaked with blood. He did not hold me. He did not ask whether I was in pain. He only frowned and ordered the servants to clean the blood before my sister smelled it. She was pregnant, he said. Blood would upset her. Later, he brought me forged hospital documents and claimed that although my body could no longer carry our child, my sister had “saved” the pregnancy. I believed him. I had even been grateful to her. Only now did I understand that the child he had been worried about that night was never mine. It was the baby growing inside my sister. Even now, he still believed I would never truly leave. He promised that once the hatchling entered the bloodline registry, he would restore my title as Serpent Consort and move me back into the main residence. I pretended to believe him and asked him to book me a flight to the mountains. There was a lake there we had promised to visit when we were young. Relief softened his face. His tail circled my waist as he pulled me into his arms. “Go ahead of me.” “When everything is settled, I’ll come find you.” I rested against his shoulder and said nothing. Because I knew I would never wait for him again. Then he asked for the keys to our mating residence. My sister had just given birth. Her senses were delicate, and the cedar scent I had left throughout the house made her anxious. He wanted me to remove all my belongings so I would not upset her or the hatchling. I calmly placed the keys in his palm. We had designed that house together. I had chosen the curtains, the rugs, the temperature of the den, and every piece of furniture in the nursery. I once believed we would raise our own child there. But while I lost our baby alone, he had been in my sister’s bed. After I left, I did not go to the new villa he had prepared for me. I went to the shifter containment facility. For three years, every time I visited the father and brother I believed had gone feral, I had seen a young black dragon locked in solitary confinement. He had been framed during a family succession war. One of his horns had been sawed short. Suppression rings clamped his pointed black ears, and iron chains bound the still-growing wings at his back. Everyone claimed he had lost his mind. I was the only one who knew he had been lucid all along. I opened the isolation cell and removed his suppression collar. “I have the money.” “I’m taking you home.” My husband had no idea that I was never going to the mountains. I was crossing the ocean to the overseas territory ruled by the deep-sea black dragons.

When I returned to the mating residence to collect my documents, all my belongings had been dumped across the living-room floor. My sister descended the staircase wearing my white bonding gown. Her snow-leopard ears resembled mine, though hers were smaller and softer. She deliberately lowered them to look innocent while her tail arched proudly behind her, betraying her triumph. My husband had designed that gown himself. His black-serpent crest and my silver snow-leopard markings were embroidered along the inside of the skirt. My sister told me he had already agreed to give it to her. After losing my baby, she said, my body had changed. I would never fit into it again. I did not lunge at her. I did not tear the gown apart. I simply told her it was worth thirty million dollars. If she wanted something that belonged to me, she could pay for it. Humiliation twisted her face. She raised her hand to strike me, only to trip over the heavy skirt and fall. My father and brother rushed in at the sound. My father did not ask what had happened. He slapped me across the face. My head snapped to the side. My silver ears jerked, and the ring on his hand sliced the tip of one ear open. Blood beaded through my fur. He pointed at me and called me greedy, vicious, and no better than my dead mother. He said I did not deserve to belong to the snow-leopard family. My brother stepped between us. For one fragile second, hope rose inside me. Then he said coldly, “Do not hit her where people can see it.” “If she shows up bruised at the registration ceremony, she’ll embarrass our sister.” He threw a black card containing thirty million dollars at my feet and told me to take it and disappear. I stared at the card. Then, under all their eyes, I bent down and picked it up. I told my brother that the gown, the furniture, the jewelry, and everything else I owned inside that den now belonged to him. I would take only my identification. From that day forward, I was no longer my father’s daughter. And I was no longer my brother’s sister. I turned to leave. My sister called me back. She said there was still one thing I had not surrendered.

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My husband, Dante—Don of the Marchetti family in New York—handed the lead investigative reporter position I’d spent five years chasing to Camilla Ricci, his “first love.” Four years into our secret marriage, my career and my feelings had always ranked below whatever counted as “more important.” When he embraced Camilla in front of everyone yet again, I ended it all with a divorce agreement disguised as a family authorization document. The next day, I boarded a plane bound for the war zone in Ukraine. Later, when he crossed half a war-torn world and found me in the ruins, my eyes held nothing but the stillness of a battlefield blizzard. … I stood at the floor-to-ceiling window of the law office, fingertips grazing the edge of the document. “Mrs. Marchetti, are you certain you want to do this?” My attorney, Ashford, adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. “We’re talking about the Don of the Marchetti family.” I turned to look at him. “Ashford, the moment I sign this, I’ll be more clear-headed than I’ve been at any point in the last four years of marriage.” Beyond the window, the Manhattan skyline glittered. Four years ago, when I came to this city from Boston, I thought I would live a completely different life—a successful career in journalism, a marriage built on mutual respect. The second part, at least in theory, had been achieved. I had married Dante Marchetti, Don of the Marchetti family, though almost no one knew it. He had told me: “You understand what I am. Making our marriage public would turn you into a target for every enemy in the underworld. Once I’ve cleared away every threat, I’ll give you a title the entire world can see. Until then, secrecy is what keeps you alive.” Looking back now, that was probably the first warning. “He’ll sign it,” I said. “He never actually reads anything I hand him.” Ashford sighed. “You still have three days to change your mind.” “I don’t need three days.” I tucked the document away. “After he handed my exclusive—the one that should have been mine—to his first love, Camilla Ricci, I stopped needing them.” By the time I returned to the penthouse in Marchetti Tower, it was already evening. Dante being home at all was rare. Rarer still—Camilla was there too. Camilla Ricci, my colleague at the network, and Dante’s first love. She was seated across from my husband, holding the bone china tea set I’d brought back from Paris. “Elena.” Dante didn’t even look up, his eyes fixed on the tablet in his hand. “Camilla’s apartment is being renovated. She’ll be staying in the guest room for a few weeks.” Camilla smiled at me, a smile so flawless it seemed rehearsed. “I hope I’m not intruding. Dan said you have plenty of empty rooms here.” “Dan.” She always called him that—a childhood nickname she claimed she couldn’t shake. Their families had grown up in the same rooms, at the same dinner tables. Some habits, apparently, came more easily to her than to me, the so-called wife. “Of course not,” I said, so calm it frightened me. “Shall I have the housekeeper prepare anything?” “No need.” Dante finally lifted his eyes for a brief, familiar, assessing sweep. “Where were you?” “The station.” I headed for the study. “Some paperwork to handle.” “Still those reports?” Camilla’s voice carried just the right note of curiosity. “I really do admire how persistent you are. Though times have changed, haven’t they? Audiences prefer in-depth personality profiles now—business leaders, financiers. The Halston Capital CEO who’s been everywhere lately would be perfect.” I stopped at the study door. Dante’s voice came from behind me. “Camilla just landed the Halston Capital CEO exclusive. Her team did solid work, so I gave her a hand. Don’t read anything into it.” Halston Capital. The door I’d knocked on for three straight months without so much as a crack of light in return. Now Camilla had it. And my husband had used the Marchetti name to hand it to her. Three months ago, when I had swallowed my pride and asked Dante for help, he had said, plainly: “The Marchetti family’s influence isn’t for trivial things like this. If you really want to interview him, put in the work yourself.” “Congratulations,” I said, and closed the door. … I pulled out the divorce agreement and slipped it beside a blank quarterly authorization form from Marchetti Holdings. Ashford was right—it was madness. But sometimes a mad marriage requires a mad ending. When I walked out of the study with both documents in hand, Camilla was showing Dante her interview outline. They were sitting close; her hair was nearly brushing his shoulder. “Dante,” I cut in. “There’s a document I need you to sign.” He frowned. “Now?” “Holdings related-party transaction authorization. Legal needs it back tonight.” I handed him the divorce agreement, my finger landing precisely above the fine print reading *dissolution of marriage*. “Just sign on the dotted line.” Camilla laughed softly. “All this corporate paperwork is such a nuisance. Dan, you still haven’t looked at my sponsorship agreement—” “Soon,” Dante said. He took the pen without turning past the first page. His eyes were still on Camilla’s tablet. The pen moved across the paper with a smoothness that left a bitterness in my chest. Just like the last four years. Every single thing I ever placed in his hands—dinner invitations, anniversary reminders, conversations about my work—was always interrupted by something “more important.” And every single thing Camilla asked for was always handled “soon.” The pen stopped. He was done. “There.” He handed the document back and finally raised his head. “You don’t look well. Get some rest if you’re tired.” Camilla stood. “I’ll make coffee. Dan, I brought those beans you like—remember? You always said mine was the only kind that tasted right.” They walked into the kitchen together. I stood there, staring at the familiar signature on the last page. *Dante. Marchetti.* Four years ago, I had seen that same handwriting on our marriage certificate. Back then I had believed the name would be a sanctuary for the rest of my life. Now it read like the inscription on a headstone. “Dante,” I said. He paused at the kitchen door and looked back. “Nothing.” I held the document to my chest. “Good night.” “Good night, Elena.” The door closed. I slid down against the cold wall onto the carpet, tracing the grain of the paper with my fingertips. Step one, done—the easiest step, and the hardest one. My phone buzzed in my pocket. Nora—the only colleague at the station who knew I was married, and my closest friend. “How did it go?” she wrote. “Did he sign?” I stared at the light spilling through the crack of the kitchen door, listening to Camilla’s laughter. “He signed,” I replied. “I’ll file it in three days.” “Oh my God. Are you really doing this?” “Nora,” I typed slowly, “do you know what he did for Camilla today? He convinced the Halston Capital CEO to give her the exclusive. Three months ago, I asked him about the same thing. You know what he told me? ‘That kind of fluff interview is a waste of time. I’m not squandering family resources on it.’” The chat showed *typing…* for a long time. Finally, a message came through: “I’m downstairs. Do you need wine, or do you need someone to help you break things?” I laughed—for the first time in four years, a real laugh. “Both,” I replied. “But first, do me a favor—find out if the Eastern European conflict zone still needs war correspondents.”

I thought the moment he signed his name, I would feel relief. But life never follows the script. I locked the divorce agreement in the deepest corner of my locker at the station. Seventy-two hours until I could file it with the court. Those three days became a strange kind of suspended sentence… and Camilla Ricci, the family’s “houseguest,” became the shadow-close jailer. “Morning, Elena.” I’d barely stepped into the newsroom Tuesday when I heard her overly bright voice. She was leaning against the partition of my cubicle, holding a limited-edition mug stamped with the Marchetti Holdings logo. “That mug…” I couldn’t help it. “Oh, this?” She smiled without a trace of guilt. “I found it in Dan’s study yesterday. He said no one was using it, so I borrowed it for tea. You don’t mind, do you?” What could I say? That it belonged to my husband, that it belonged to my home, and she couldn’t just take it? My pride wouldn’t let me stake out territory like some resentful housewife. “Go ahead.” I sat down and opened my laptop. “By the way—” She showed no sign of leaving. “Dan said the pre-coverage for Marchetti Holdings’ quarterly investor summit can go to our network as an exclusive. He specifically asked for me to lead it. What do you think—traditional studio interview, or something more original, like an on-site feature at headquarters?” My fingers froze on the keyboard. Pre-coverage for the Marchetti Holdings investor summit was top-tier material—usually the chief business editor handled it personally. Even senior anchors didn’t touch it every time. “Dante ‘specifically’ asked for you?” My voice came out dry. “Mm-hmm.” She took a sip of tea, eyes crinkling. “He said my angle was ‘insightful.’ Oh, and the Halston Capital feature airs tonight at eight. Don’t forget to watch.” She finally left, trailing a faint scent of cedar—the same brand as the diffuser in Dante’s study. Nora leaned over from the next cubicle and lowered her voice. “My God. Is she reading you an inventory of her trophies?” “Pretty much.” I stared at my screen. The words on the document blurred into a smear. “You have to talk to Dante.” Nora’s tone was flat. “About what?” I twitched a corner of my mouth. “‘Hey, man who is technically still my husband—could you stop handing your family influence and business capital like candy to your first love while simultaneously trampling on my career?’” “Beats bottling it up.” I shook my head. I’d tried too many times—about respect, about boundaries, about my work, about the career he always deemed “not weighty enough.” His answer never changed: “Elena, don’t be dramatic. Camilla just got back. She needs to build a reputation in this industry. You still have time.” Was my time really cheaper than hers? That weekend, the station held a small celebration for the Halston Capital exclusive. Camilla was the star of the evening, surrounded by admirers on every side. “So, you and Mr. Marchetti really were college sweethearts?” a new entertainment reporter asked, wide-eyed. Camilla’s cheeks colored faintly, her gaze drifting toward me where I stood alone with a drink. “That was all in the past. Young love is beautiful… but fragile.” She paused, her voice carrying just the right measure of wistfulness. “We were too proud back then. We thought the future was endless.” A hush fell over the room for a beat. Then a low, familiar voice came from the doorway: “That was a long time ago.” Dante Marchetti walked in, in an impeccably tailored black suit. His eyes cut across the crowd with precision—falling first on Camilla, then, as if with belated hesitation, turning to me. Low murmurs rose up. “Wow… it’s Don Marchetti! So, Mr. Marchetti, you and Camilla really—” Dante stopped beside Camilla, letting his hand rest on the back of her chair with easy familiarity. He didn’t look at me. There was a softness at the corner of his mouth I had never seen before. “Yes,” he said. “She was the first person I ever truly loved.” Applause, whistles, and jeers erupted. Camilla lowered her head shyly and gave his arm a light tap. I stood frozen, my champagne glass cold as ice. Nora’s hand clamped down on my wrist, her nails almost breaking the skin. Dante finally looked at me. His expression was complicated—warning, apology, and something I couldn’t read, something close to a plea. Pleading for what? For me to play along? To stay silent? I tilted my head back and drained the entire glass of champagne. The bubbles burned down my throat. Then I set the glass down and, over all the noise, said clearly and calmly to Nora: “Let’s go. The air in here isn’t good.” I didn’t look at him again, nor at the woman soaking in everyone’s envy. Outside, the Manhattan wind slapped against my face. Nora was trembling with fury. “How could he? That bastard! Does he even know what he just said?” I knew. And so did he. He was drawing a line. In public, in the rules he understood and could control, he had chosen his past, his old debts, his… Camilla. And I was only the wife—the one “unsuited” for in-depth interviews, who needed to “change her approach,” who needed to “work harder on her own,” whose name wasn’t even worth saying aloud. Or rather: the one about to become an ex-wife. Back at the apartment, I locked the bedroom door. From the living room drifted the sound of Dante and Camilla arriving late and chatting, the bright clink of ice dropping into a bucket. I opened my laptop, logged into the station’s internal system, and pulled up the already-completed *High-Risk Region Foreign Assignment Application*. The cursor hovered over *Submit*. Outside the window, the city lights sparkled—countless cold, unreachable dreams. I clicked.

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The year my boyfriend was framed by a rival family and fled to Porto Nero, I followed without looking back. I lived with him in a three-hundred-dollar basement, lost two children working back-to-back shifts day and night. When I took a knife for him and nearly lost my life, Dante Morano’s tears were scalding. I gently wiped them away, with only one request. “When you rise again, will you come to my family and ask for my hand?” He promised. Over six years, Dante rebuilt his strength and took down every rival family. He rose to become the undisputed boss of Porto Nero’s waterfront operations. And I, for the eighty-ninth time, begged his right-hand man to get a message through. “Are we still getting married?” He was busy rotating through one sit-down and back-room meeting after another, and gave the same answer: “Just wait a little longer.” I said fine. I wouldn’t distract him anymore. Until the day I stepped out and ran into a couple of local reporters who’d been sniffing around the family. They barely glanced at me before bolting in another direction. “That woman’s a fraud—the real Mrs. Morano just checked into the OB-GYN clinic.” Stunned, I followed them. Outside the private hospital that charged a hundred thousand a night, Dante had his arm around my foster sister, her belly slightly swollen. Behind them stood my parents, whom I hadn’t seen in six years, and my best friend. Looking at those familiar faces one by one— I felt nothing but distance. So he had gone to my family to propose after all. Just not for me. Fine. I’d grown sick of the wind off the docks anyway. …… The camera flashes were blinding. The crowd shoved me to the outer edge. I accidentally hit a metal railing, and the old wound at my waist ached deep in the bone. My best friend, Camille, was the first to spot me. Her voice caught. “Vivian—why are you… here?” Just last week she’d been on the phone with me, pitying my six years of waiting. Hearing the commotion, Dante turned and saw me in the distance. Panic flashed across his face. “Vivian, don’t misunderstand—I’ll explain everything when we get home!” He said this, but the hand resting on Sienna’s waist didn’t loosen one bit. And my own parents, whom I hadn’t seen in years, opened their mouths several times before finally saying: “Vivian, Sienna is pregnant. Don’t make a scene.” But when I’d had my miscarriage, they couldn’t even be bothered to make the trip to Porto Nero. Silence filled my ears. My name had been called three times, but not a single person actually cared about me. My knuckles turned white from clenching. Then, suddenly, I smiled. “There’s a happy occasion in the family—how come nobody told me?” It was Sienna who answered. “The first three months the baby isn’t stable. We had to keep it secret.” “But sister, you’ve been pregnant twice yourself. You should have more experience than me.” Around her neck hung the Cuore Rosso—a legendary ruby worth a hundred million. Dante had won it at a charity auction on the Amalfi Coast. I’d seen it on the news and assumed it was meant for me. Dante murmured from beside her, “That’s enough. Stop.” Those two children—lost on the road while I was working extra jobs to expand Dante’s network and buy gifts for his associates. They were twins. I still remember the wind off the harbor that December. Bitterly cold. I pressed my hand against my empty belly, and my heart felt like it had a gaping hole, cold wind howling through. Before me, I looked at the five people across the street. One road between us, yet it felt as vast as a galaxy. “Dante Morano, can you look me in the eye and say you’ve done right by me?” The moment I finished, my parents were the first to scold me. “How dare you speak to Dante that way! He’s taken care of our family all these years—how has he wronged you?” Even my best friend Camille frowned. “Vivian, that was uncalled for.” “You’ve been frail all these years, oversensitive and paranoid. Dante is a normal man—he gets tired too!” Only Dante flinched, singed by the grief in my eyes. He moved to come closer. But Sienna let out a soft gasp, and his feet stopped. “Vivian, people are watching. Making a scene would be ugly.” Dante said I looked ugly like this. But was what he’d done behind my back any prettier? Sienna nestled into his arms, whispering softly. “Sister, please don’t make things difficult for Dante.” “It wasn’t easy for him to claw his way back to this position. Surely you don’t want him to suffer alongside you again?” My chest ached so badly I could taste blood at the back of my throat. “Fine. I won’t make things difficult for any of you.” But as I turned to leave, Dante ordered his bodyguards to restrain me. He rubbed his temples, as though I were being impossibly childish. “Take her back to the villa. She doesn’t leave without my permission.” As I was shoved into the car, Sienna flashed me a triumphant smile. A smile that said: you’ve lost everything. Back at the villa, I locked myself in my room. The housekeeper knocked again and again, pleading with me to come out and eat. I stared at the things scattered across the floor. The photographs—every memory Dante and I had shared over the years. The receipts—monthly expense statements I’d faithfully sent home. The matching friendship bracelet—a token of the sisterhood Camille and I once shared. After I burned the last one, my tears had dried too. Finally, I dialed a number. “Six years ago you asked me to marry you. Does the offer still stand?” Silence for a few seconds, then a restrained but unmistakably elated male voice. “Three days. I’ll come for you.”

After all that, I opened the locked door. Sat quietly at the dining table. “Lombardi, would you make me a bowl of soup?” The housekeeper happily walked into the kitchen and made a call. “Mr. Morano, Miss Thornton is out and eating.” Looking up, I saw the pile of gift boxes his man had dropped off in the living room. This was always how Dante tried to placate me—it required no thought and no effort. In the Instagram, Sienna posted a video. “Dante is so wonderful—he pushed back work to stay home and help me knit baby clothes. He’s going to be such a good father.” In the video, he was bent over, carefully stitching a small piece of fabric. His profile gentle, his gaze focused. My eyes burned watching it. I suddenly remembered those days when we were on the run, hiding from one safe house to the next. Dante couldn’t afford anything nice. So he’d braided me a cord bracelet by hand. It was crooked and rough, but I wore it like a treasure for six years. Later he got busier, and richer again. But the companionship—he gave that to someone else. A new comment popped up under that Instagram video. My parents and Camille. “My little grandchild is so blessed to have such loving parents.” “Sienna, I can’t wait to be the godmother! I’ll keep Dante in line for you!” I pulled out the cord bracelet I still carried. The color had long since faded. Time to throw it away. The bodyguards outside the villa kept tight watch, convinced I’d tear the place apart. But I went to the garden as usual to water the flowers. The orchids were delicate—I’d been growing them for half a year. They were about to bloom. I wouldn’t be here to see it. So I had them boxed up and sent to the neighbors in three days. In my messages, Dr. Ferrara, who managed my old injury, reminded me about next week’s appointment. I declined the six-year routine follow-up and withdrew the remaining funds from my medical account. Because there was no point anymore. At the same time, a truck arrived. Furniture was carried in piece by piece. “Be careful—these were all personally selected by Mr. Morano for Miss Thornton. Very expensive!” A maternity mattress, a Baroque vanity, designer lounge chairs. And this villa—I’d only lived here two years. Dante once told me this would be our home for the rest of our lives. Now this home was no longer a home. Sienna walked in, my parents on either side of her, Camille close behind. “Sister, you don’t mind me moving in, do you?” My parents soothed her. “Mind what? You two sisters used to share a room all the time.” We did share a room once. But then they made me move into the storage closet. Because Sienna had a sweeter tongue and a more fragile air. Camille walked right past me and poured Sienna a glass of water. “Sienna, don’t bother with petty people. Think of the baby.” I didn’t say a word. But then—my parents leaned in and whispered: “If you could move out, that would help. Don’t disturb Sienna’s rest. Seeing you puts her in a bad mood.” I stared at my own flesh and blood standing before me, incredulous. “In your eyes, who exactly is the real daughter?” They kept their voices down, terrified Sienna might hear. “Sienna has been with our family so many years, she’s as good as our own. You’ve always been the strong one—what’s wrong with letting her have this?” I could never understand my parents’ favoritism. But today, I suddenly no longer cared to. Camille chimed in: “Sienna’s love for Dante is no less than yours. Six years and nothing to show for it—why not step aside gracefully?” She seemed to have forgotten who stood up for her and fought back against the bullies. Who spent their savings funding her education all those years. A whole heart, fed to the dogs. After saying their piece, the three of them went to help Sienna settle her room. Dante came back soon after. The moment he walked in, he cupped my bare, sockless feet. “Vivian, give me some time. I’ll sort everything out.” His arms were warm—but they’d already held another woman. On his tanned forearm were crescent-shaped nail marks from Sienna. “Sort it out how? Make me the other woman? Watch your happy family from the sidelines?” “Vivian!” Dante’s face hardened. “Do you have any idea who Sienna really is? She’s been claimed by the Constantino family—she can give me enormous leverage!” So that was it. The Constantinos were Porto Nero’s most powerful family. Four generations of empire. “These years I’ve been building my position step by step. Nobody knows what it’s cost me.” But Dante—these six years have cost me too. In the end, I simply couldn’t compete with Sienna’s noble bloodline. Dante softened his voice again. “I haven’t forgotten the promise I made six years ago. I will marry you.” “No need. I’m moving out.”

When I said those words, I thought Dante would at least try to stop me. But he only pressed his lips into a thin line. “Once Sienna’s condition stabilizes, I’ll bring you back.” He thought I was throwing a tantrum. Thought I was competing for attention. I ignored his last sentence entirely. Under the white light, my face was pale. “Before I go—give me back the card I gave you.” When I’d followed him to Porto Nero six years ago, I’d sold everything I owned and walked away from a promising career. One card. Seven hundred and fifty thousand. It was everything I had. And now it was my resolve to sever this relationship for good. All warmth drained from Dante’s eyes. His voice turned cold. “Vivian Thornton, I’ve never shortchanged you. You know what asking for that card means.” Past betrayals had made Dante deeply suspicious. He could spend millions on me without blinking. But if I asked for it—that carried a different meaning entirely. Back in those basement days, Dante would hold me and ask the same question over and over. “Vivian, will you ever be like the others—choose money over me?” “Never. Not in this lifetime.” Now, my smile was exactly the same as back then. “One knife scar. Two children.” “Dante Morano, my youth wasn’t cheap either.” The rainy season had arrived, and my old wound ached terribly. The words had barely settled when Sienna appeared from nowhere. “You really love money that much? I truly feel sorry for Dante!” She gently took Dante’s hand, tenderly smoothing the crease between his brows. My parents slapped me across the face and pointed at my nose: “Vivian Thornton, how did we raise such an ungrateful wretch? Begging for money without a shred of shame!” Camille jumped in too: “I really misjudged you. I thought you were just foolish—turns out you’re vicious. Ask yourself what Dante has done for you!” In the end, Dante threw the bank card on the floor. “Take it and get out. This house has nothing to do with you anymore.” I picked it up without looking at any of them. Because they weren’t worth it. The wind in Porto Nero blew hard at night. Dante wouldn’t let the driver take me. Years of neglect had wrecked my health—problems everywhere. He used to never let me go out alone. Even a scraped knee would distress him. Halfway down the hillside road, the rain began to pour. Icy, wild raindrops lashed my face. I clutched that bank card until its edge cut my palm and blood ran. Before I blacked out, a message came through: “Two more days. Wait for me.” When I woke, I was lying in a house in the outskirts. Mrs. Lombardi changed the towel on my forehead and whispered: “Miss Thornton, Mr. Morano does care about you. Please take care of yourself.” For six years, there had always been people acting as Dante’s advocates. I used to listen. But now I only wanted to leave. My fingertip hovered over the screen. Below that text were a few more messages. “The weather in Ashford has been lovely. You’ll like it.” “Eat well, Vivian.” Inexplicably, something warm stirred in my battered heart. I remembered there was one last thing I hadn’t finished. When I arrived at the orphanage, I was stopped at the gate. “Miss Thornton, we no longer need your sponsorship.” The card I’d demanded back from Dante the night before had been snapped in two. My voice was dry. “Director, what do you mean?” Inside, the children who’d once received my donations kept their distance, wary and hostile. A stack of newspapers was thrown in my face. I unfolded them with trembling hands. “‘Morano Boss Weds Constantino Heiress in Alliance of the Century—Other Woman Cast Out in Disgrace.” The cover showed my rain-soaked, wretched silhouette leaving the night before. Beside it, a spread of Dante and Sienna’s newly shot engagement photos. Picture-perfect bliss. “Our orphanage doesn’t accept dirty money. Please leave.” People came and went, casting countless looks of contempt. I stood in the sun, my vision going black, drenched in cold sweat. Someone’s shoulder knocked into mine, and I fell unguarded to the ground. Sienna’s beaming face appeared above me. “Sister, I’ll be sponsoring this orphanage from now on. Consider it good karma for the baby.” Behind her, the director ushered her in with utmost courtesy. Dante’s tone was stiff. “The papers were to let Sienna save face. The Constantinos wouldn’t agree otherwise.” “Go home. It’s windy here.” I looked at his familiar brow and eyes, and suddenly remembered lying in the hospital. Dante too afraid to close his eyes all night. “Vivian, I swear no one will ever hurt you again.” Now the person hurting me was him. I laughed and laughed until the tears fell. Sienna laced her fingers through his, staking her claim. “Sister, tomorrow is our engagement banquet. Will you come?”

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This was my eighteenth wedding rehearsal with Damian Blackwood,and once again,the spotlight was stolen by my adopted sister,Seraphina. My parents called,their voices tight with anxiety. “Aurora,Sera’s having an anxiety attack.We have to take her to the retreat in the Hamptons.You handle the wedding stuff.You’re experienced with this,seeing as it’s been postponed so many times.” My childhood best friend,Hollywood superstar Giselle,clicked her tongue as if watching a soap opera. “Darling,is your wedding more important than Seraphina’s health?She was about to pass out from the pain,and you wouldn’t even let us help her.When did you become so cold-hearted?” And my fiancé,the Wall Street tech giant,couldn’t even be bothered to call. He just sent a cold text:【Wedding’s off.We’ll talk later.】 Talk later. He’d dismissed me like an unimportant subordinate with those words eighteen times. Suddenly,the whole situation felt absurd. “Guardian Spirit,”I called out in my mind,“sever the blessing contracts between me and them.All of them.” A familiar,ethereal voice echoed in my head:“Command received.All connections to the Darling of Fate,Aurora Sterling,have been severed.” “Countdown:72 hours.They will lose everything they gained through you,including their lives.” … Watching the countdown timer appear in my mind’s eye,I grabbed a microphone and walked onto the wedding stage,which was covered in purple irises. My wedding,decorated with Seraphina’s favorite flower.The irony was perfect. “I’m very sorry,everyone,but today’s wedding is canceled.” The socialites in the audience exchanged knowing glances.No one was surprised. “I knew it.A Sterling wedding never actually happens.If I were her,I’d hide my face in shame.” “The whole Sterling family dotes on the adopted one.If I were Aurora,I’d just give up.Let the sister have him.At least she’d look graceful instead of being the laughingstock of New York.” “You don’t get it.This heiress is something else.They say if Damian Blackwood even slightly upsets her,the Blackwood Group’s stock plummets the next day.He tried a few times,lost billions,and finally agreed to the engagement.” I turned and walked away,feeling their pity and scorn on my back. Hearing their whispers,a cold smirk touched my lips. This time,it would be much more than just a stock plunge…

I changed out of my gown and headed back to the Sterlings’penthouse on Park Avenue,planning only to grab a few belongings before leaving for good. But the second I reached the front door,I ran into a crowd escorting Seraphina back inside,chatting and laughing cheerfully. All their smiles froze the moment they laid eyes on me. Fire flared in Damian’s gaze,his tone sharp with reproach. “Aurora Sterling,why didn’t you issue a statement to the press after calling off the wedding?If you don’t take responsibility publicly,everyone’s just going to pin the blame on Sera again.” My father,Richard Sterling,curled his lip and spoke in a commanding tone. “Aurora,your crisis management is abysmal this time.We’ve never had to clean up messes from your canceled weddings before.You’ve let me down badly.Draft a formal announcement right away admitting you called everything off on a reckless whim.” My supposed best friend Giselle immediately pulled out her phone. “I’ll have my agent reach out to every major outlet.We can still spin this if Aurora posts the statement now.I’ll also pay online trolls to drag her name through the mud so no one speculates anything bad about Sera…” I said nothing in response to their unearned,self-righteous accusations. I simply stared at the countdown ticking away in my head. Two days and eighteen hours remained. Then every last one of them would plunge straight into ruin. “What are you zoning out for,Aurora Sterling?”Damian stepped up to me,his voice laced with a clear warning.“Fix this mess properly,or I make no promises about when we’ll ever reschedule our wedding.” Seraphina piped up in her usual frail,simpering voice. “It’s all my fault for holding Damian and my sister’s wedding up.This is entirely on me.There are plenty of auspicious dates left this month—please don’t postpone it any further…” Her sentence cut short as she broke into a harsh coughing fit. Damian rushed to her side in an instant,rubbing her back soothingly. “This isn’t your fault at all,don’t beat yourself up over it.Your sister’s never going anywhere without me;our wedding can happen whenever.” “I wouldn’t count on that.” I finally broke my silence with a cold retort. Every single person in the room went rigid with shock. I lifted the duffel bag in my hand.“I’m leaving.” The words had barely left my mouth when— SLAP! A crisp,echoing smack rang out across the lavish living room.

My cheek stung,but I just wanted to laugh. My mother,Eleanor,her hand still trembling with rage,screamed at me. “How dare you make a scene?!We’ve spoiled you rotten!You were a debutante,how did you become so selfish and difficult?” “You’re leaving?Where are you going to go?Are you trying to make sure the whole city knows how we’mistreated’you?Aurora,when will you ever learn?How could I have a daughter like you?You’re not even half the woman Seraphina is!” I tasted blood in my mouth. Yes,I used to throw a tantrum every single time. Because I didn’t understand why they’d insist I broke my father’s antique vase when Seraphina did it. I didn’t understand why they wouldn’t believe the security footage that showed I never pushed Seraphina down the stairs. Even buying a bouquet of lilies was twisted into’proof’that I was intentionally triggering Seraphina’s allergies. This wasn’t the first time my mother had hit me. Just two days ago,I refused to let Seraphina try on my custom Vera Wang wedding dress. Then,she“coincidentally”fainted. My mother rushed in,pushed me to the ground,and took a pair of scissors to the dress I had waited six months for. We were practically enemies because of Seraphina. So I used to make a scene.I wanted someone,anyone,to see the truth. But this time,I was done.I wasn’t going to make a scene anymore.

In the story of this world,I am the one kissed by fate.The chosen one. The rule is simple:only by forming a deep connection with me can the other characters receive their good fortune. The day after I was born,the Sterling Group,which had been on the brink of bankruptcy,miraculously received a massive investment and became one of New York’s top firms.My father’s stage-two cancer vanished without a trace. My best friend Giselle,who was always by my side,had a charmed career in Hollywood,winning an Oscar and becoming a global superstar. And Damian Blackwood. He was just a poor kid from Brooklyn,getting beat up by street thugs. Until he saved me from getting lost on a rainy night,and I fell for him. From that moment on,he founded his tech company and,as if guided by a divine hand,never lost a single battle in the business world,eventually taking his company public on Nasdaq and becoming a tech legend. They all worshiped me for over twenty years. Damian treated me like the most precious thing in the world. And because of me,they got everything they ever dreamed of. But then,they brought Seraphina home. And everything changed.

My father spoke to the butler in a grim voice. “Pack up her things.She won’t take a single thing from the Sterling family with her.” “Aurora Sterling,you can leave.But this time,none of us are coming to get you.If you walk out that door,we’ll hold a press conference and disown you.You will no longer be a Sterling!” They pushed me out the door without letting me take so much as a change of clothes. Damian sighed and discreetly slipped me a key. “You can stay at this apartment.Aurora,we’re just tired.We don’t want to play these games with you anymore.” Then he added,“I wish it had been Seraphina I saved that night.” I laughed coldly.“You can marry her now,for all I care.” Damian sighed again,frustrated.“There you go again.Aurora,you know I promised to marry you,and I won’t go back on my word.” “Seraphina is a sweet,innocent girl.I will not allow you to speak of her as if she’s some object to be traded.Don’t let me hear you say that again.” He turned and walked back up the steps. I threw the key on the ground.As I was about to leave,Seraphina rushed out and grabbed my sleeve.“Sister,don’t go!It’s my fault,I shouldn’t have wished for a warmth that wasn’t mine…I don’t deserve it…” “Don’t leave,I should be the one to go!I’ll leave the Sterling house right now…”

I knew what game she was playing. So I just stood there and let her hold onto me,performing her masterful crying act. But when I didn’t push her away like I usually did,she suddenly gasped,“I can’t breathe,”and collapsed in a soft heap at my feet. “Sera!” “Get the family doctor,now!Seraphina,my daughter!” Everyone rushed over,surrounding her in a panic. Damian’s eyes were bloodshot with fury.He grabbed me by the neck.“Aurora Sterling,you dare to touch Seraphina again?Did you think I’d never lay a hand on you?!” I realized that when you’re truly speechless,you just laugh. I didn’t even bother to touch her. And yet,I was still the one who“hurt”her. “Damian,I hope you all don’t regret this one day.” “Guards!”my father roared,pointing at me.“Lock her in the wine cellar!Let her think about what she’s done!”

This is the second time I’ve been locked in here. The first time is still fresh in my mind. It happened because I caught Sera sneaking into Damian’s bedroom in the middle of the night. I lost it on the spot.I caught her red-handed in Damian’s bed! But then she tearfully claimed it was due to sleepwalking caused by childhood trauma—she said she didn’t even know why she went into Damian’s room,only that she felt safe there. She didn’t mean to do it. My parents and Damian bought that explanation completely. Damian even told her gently that if she was afraid,she could come to him anytime. Back then,my feelings for Damian were at their peak. I couldn’t even stand a female assistant near him—aside from the cleaning ladies,no women were allowed in the entire executive office. So,I slapped Sera right then and there. And for that,my parents locked me in this wine cellar for seven days,with only a slice of bread and a cup of water each day. They only let me out when I was nearly out of my mind with hunger and agreed to apologize to Sera. But this time,they clearly don’t intend to just starve me for a few days. When my father walked in holding a horsewhip,Damian followed behind him. “According to family rules,you deserve a real lesson.But Sera felt sorry for you and begged me on her knees to go easy on you.So you’ll get just five lashes.” *Crack!* Halfway through,my father hesitated,unable to go on.“Apologize to your sister!” “Are you going to apologize or not?!” But I never gave him the answer he wanted.The more he demanded,the angrier he became. By the time the five lashes were done,my entire back was a bloody mess. I was already numb from the pain,curled up in the corner,gasping for air. My father threw down the whip and left without another word. His final words lingered in the air: “Incorrigible!”

Damian crouched down in front of me. “Here’s some medicine and clean clothes from Seraphina.Aurora,Seraphina has always respected you.As her older sister,and as my future wife,you should take care of her.Why are you so petty?Why do you always assume the worst in people?” “When you’ve thought it through,apologize.Stop making us all angry.” He unfolded the clothes Seraphina had“prepared”for me—a coarse burlap shirt—and“thoughtfully”draped it over my back. The rough fabric scraped against my raw wounds.It felt like being dunked in salt water. I curled into a ball,shaking from the agony. “So dramatic.Seraphina has her attacks,turns pale from pain,but she never makes a scene like you do.” Damian rolled his eyes,stood up,and left. It took me a long time to catch my breath. “Guardian Spirit…” “Host,shall I activate the pain-blocking function?” “No.I want to accelerate the end of the contract.” “Understood.Acceleration initiated.Tomorrow at noon,all characters will face the consequences.”

As dawn broke,I was roughly dragged to my feet. Someone took me somewhere,and I fell onto a cold tile floor. The next second,a blast of icy water from a showerhead jolted me awake. I was fully conscious now,and I saw Seraphina holding a pressure washer. Her eyes were filled with undisguised contempt and mockery,a triumphant smile on her face. She had the water on its coldest setting,standing far away,spraying me down like a stray dog. “Sister,Mom and Dad said they’re holding a press conference at the New York Stock Exchange today.To announce to the whole world that you’ve been kicked out of the Sterling family.” “They’re going to publicly declare that I am the only daughter of the Sterling family,and Damian’s only bride.” “With the Blackwood and Sterling merger,I’ll be the jewel of two great families.And you?You’ll be sent back to the countryside.A dirt-poor peasant,married off to some disgusting pig farmer.” I glared at Seraphina. Yes,this was her true self. She never bothered to hide her ambition from me. From the very first day she came to the Sterling house and insisted on sharing my room,she told me she was here to replace me. But back then,I thought I had the“blessing contract.”I thought,how could they ever leave me? Reality slapped me hard in the face. The icy water had made my limbs numb. Then suddenly,Seraphina switched the water from cold to scalding hot. The boiling water poured over my back,instantly re-opening the wounds that had just started to scab over. Blood mixed with water,swirling down the drain. The bathroom filled with steam.I was red and swollen,the pain in my back so intense it felt like it wasn’t even part of my body anymore. Seraphina laughed.“Mom and Dad told me to wash you up.I have to be thorough.” Then,she poured a large bucket of what looked like red wine mixed with something else all over me.

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On the day my fiance called off our wedding. I accepted a transfer order from Aegis Technology Research Institute and left New York without telling anyone. “Chloe is in very poor health.She needs my last name and that top-tier medical insurance more than you do.” “Evelyn,you’ve always been the most rational.This is just a temporary measure.Once she’s stable,everything will go back to the way it was.” In New York’s social circle,everyone thought I—who had given up a full scholarship to MIT to follow my boyfriend,Karen Thorne,a superstar in the North American Hockey League,to New York—would cry,throw a fit,and beg him not to leave me. After all,in their eyes,without Karen,I was just a useless unemployed girlfriend,a pretty ornament under his halo. But I just nodded calmly. Then I got into a black Cadillac One personally sent by the founder of Aegis Institute. Three years later,as the chief designer of Hermes,a revolutionary sports prosthesis,I attended its launch at the World Sports Technology Conference. Karen,as the league’s ambassador,saw me among the well-dressed crowd. But there was no longer any sign of him in my eyes. …… Three years ago,at the MVP celebration party held by Karen’s team for him. In front of all the media and teammates,he unilaterally announced the end of our engagement and introduced Chloe,the younger sister of his late best friend,as his fiancée. He didn’t even glance at me.He spoke directly to the reporters surrounding him:“Due to special circumstances,Chloe and I will hold our engagement ceremony as soon as possible.” The team manager looked at me,then at Karen,his face full of embarrassment. “Karen,you and Evelyn’s wedding news has already been released.The cover of next month’s Sports Illustrated is already shot.” “This is so unfair to Evelyn.” Chloe,standing behind Karen,coughed twice at the right moment,her face as pale as paper. She whispered,“Brother Karen,let’s just forget it…Don’t embarrass the manager,and don’t put Sister Evelyn in an awkward position.” “I…I can go back to my hometown to recover too.” As soon as she finished speaking,she broke into a violent cough,her body swaying unsteadily.

Karen immediately held her up,his brows furrowed tightly. “Nonsense!Your heart can’t stand the climate there at all.Have you forgotten what the doctor said?” He turned to the team manager,his voice turning cold:“Manager,Chloe is the only family member of my best brother.He ruined his career protecting me on the ice and died of depression.Now Chloe is all alone and seriously ill.If I don’t take care of her,who will?” “I’ll take this responsibility.If the board has any issues,tell them to come to me directly!” With the labels of“morality”and“responsibility”pressed on him,no one at the party dared to say another word. The manager sighed and signaled the PR team to prepare a new press release. My gaze shifted from the flashing camera lights to Karen’s face. He never looked at me. “Karen,”I said calmly. He finally spared me a glance,obvious impatience in his eyes. “What now?Evelyn,I thought you were the most sensible.” “Sensible?”I repeated the word. For three years,I had given up my major and my bright academic future just for these two words. I had gone from a promising biomechanical genius to the“sensible”woman he spoke of,one who could be sacrificed at any moment. “You’re with me so I can focus on my games.Chloe needs me to survive.” He looked at me,saying word by word: “Can’t you tell which is more important?”

I stared at the man I had loved for three years and followed for more than 5,000 kilometers. I asked him:“If it were me dying today,would you give up Chloe’s future for me?” He froze. Chloe beside him reddened her eyes and tears fell. “Sister Evelyn,how could you say that…My brother died for Brother Karen…How could you curse me like this…” Karen snapped back to his senses,his irritation turning to faint anger. “Evelyn,apologize!” I didn’t move. “I told you to apologize to Chloe!”he raised his voice eight degrees. Everyone at the party stared at me,their eyes full of blame and confusion. As if I were some vicious woman. I laughed. “Fine,I’ll apologize.” I walked up to Chloe. “I’m sorry.” “I shouldn’t have compared a healthy person to the sister of a hero.” “After all,healthy people are meant to make way for the sick.” Chloe’s face turned pale instantly. Karen’s face turned livid.He grabbed my wrist tightly:“Evelyn,have you had enough?” “No,”I shook off his hand.“Karen Thorne,you don’t have to worry about the engagement.I’ll handle it myself.” I took out my phone from my purse and,in front of everyone,deleted all photos and announcements related to him on my social media. “From today on,Evelyn Reed and Karen Thorne have nothing to do with each other.” I turned and left. He didn’t chase after me. Behind me came Chloe’s tearful voice:“Brother Karen,it’s all my fault.Go explain to Sister Evelyn…She must have misunderstood…” Then came Karen’s voice,still gentle despite his suppressed anger. “Ignore her.She’ll calm down in a few days.I’ll take you home to rest first.” My heart turned completely cold at that moment.

I went back to the penthouse apartment Karen and I shared. The artwork we picked out together still hung on the walls. Everything felt like yesterday. I started packing my things. I had very few belongings—they fit into a small suitcase. Most were professional books. Karen had never liked me reading them. He said that as the girlfriend of a hockey star,I should just learn art,fashion,and socializing.Why read such“boring”stuff? I pulled the suitcase and prepared to leave. Just then,the door opened. Karen came back,followed by Susan,the team’s PR director. Susan was a decisive woman who had always been kind to me. “Evelyn,honey,what are you doing?” Susan saw my suitcase and hurriedly persuaded me:“Don’t run away from home just because you’re angry.Karen is an idiot,but he cares about you.Calm down.” I ignored her and pulled the suitcase toward the door. Karen stood in my way,frowning:“Where are you going?” “Home.” “Isn’t this your home?” “This is your home,not mine,”I said calmly.

He suddenly scoffed:“Not here?Then where?Your ordinary family in that small Midwest town?Did your parents send you to the East Coast just to cause me trouble?” The most hurtful words always come from the people you love the most. Susan quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Come on,Karen,watch your mouth.Evelyn,Karen is doing this out of responsibility.Chloe’s situation is really special.Those of us by his side need to be more understanding.” She said to me:“Look at you,you’re so well-educated.Why can’t you understand this?Just do a good deed and give up this title.Karen will definitely compensate you later.” Compensate?With what? With the identity of an ex-girlfriend mocked across the country,or the rest of my life he charity-gives me? “Susan,this is my business.It has nothing to do with you.”I walked around her. Karen grabbed my arm again. “Did I say you could leave?” He pushed me hard into the room.I hit the wall,my back aching. “Evelyn,I gave you time to calm down,not to go crazy!” “Go back to your room and reflect on whether what you said at the party was appropriate for a well-bred woman!” “Come out only when you’ve come to your senses.” He kicked my suitcase aside and turned to lock the bedroom door. Just then,my phone rang. It was an encrypted number. I answered and said nothing. A calm male voice came from the other end:“Hermes,this is Arthur Zhou,founder of Aegis.” My pupils shrank sharply. “Headquarters order:Project Prometheus is activated early.You must report back within six hours.The special car is already downstairs.” I glanced at Karen subconsciously. He was staring at me impatiently,thinking it was just a friend calling. “Are you done?Hang up and get inside!” I clenched my phone and whispered to the caller:“Received.” After hanging up,I looked up at Karen. It was the last time I looked at him with the eyes of a lover:“Karen,are you sure you want to do this?” “I won’t say it again.”He had run out of patience. “Fine.” I nodded,never looking at him again,and turned into the small guest bedroom with only a single bed. The door clicked shut behind me,locked from the outside.

The guest bedroom balcony faced the apartment’s back garden,a private wooded area. I opened the floor-to-ceiling window,and cold wind rushed in. The third floor wasn’t high.I tore the expensive Egyptian cotton bed sheets into strips,twisted them into a rope,tied one end to the balcony railing,and threw the other end down. I grabbed the rope and climbed over the balcony. The moment my feet touched the ground,I didn’t even look back at the place I had lived for three years. In the snow,I walked step by step toward the apartment gate. My phone vibrated again.A text message arrived: “Car at the gate.License plate:AEGIS-01.” I quickened my pace. At the apartment gate,the security guard stopped me. “Ma’am,where are you going so late?” I had been locked up by Karen and had nothing with me except my phone. Just as I didn’t know how to explain,a middle-aged man in a high-end tailored suit stepped out of the black Cadillac. He walked straight to the security guard and showed an electronic ID on his phone. The security guard’s face changed drastically.He immediately stood straight and bowed respectfully. “Good evening,sir!” The middle-aged man nodded,walked to me,and opened the car door. “Dr.Reed,please get in.” I got in,and warm air surrounded me. The car slowly started.I watched the luxurious apartment building fade away in the snow through the rearview mirror. My phone rang.It was Karen. I hung up. He called again.I hung up again. The third time,he sent a text: “Evelyn,my patience is limited.Don’t force me to bring you back by force!Apologize to Chloe on your own within a day,and this will be over.”

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In my bravest and most foolish year,I spent 99 days making the man I was obsessed with—the“Ice God”and captain of the New York hockey team,Damian Knight—finally fall for me. Back then,I was the team’s intern physical therapist,in charge of his conditioning. At night,I was his lover. Until the day I stood outside his mansion’s wine cellar and overheard him laughing with his teammates. “Damian,I heard you broke your season’s celibacy for that little intern?Weren’t you waiting for Chloe to come back?Giving up just like that?” Damian sipped his whiskey,the ice clinking in the glass.His voice was just as cold. “She’s just an intern.Is she even worthy?The moment Chloe’s back in New York,I’m proposing to her.” The cellar erupted in laughter. “Great!Hey,Captain,when you’re done with her,let the rest of us have a taste.I hear she’s good at taking care of people.” A contemptuous smirk played on Damian’s lips.“Whatever.Do what you want.” I instinctively touched my still-flat stomach and vanished from his world that very night. Five years later,at a grand New York charity gala,Damian Knight was about to bid on a legendary blue sapphire necklace called“The Queen’s Heart”for his recently returned love,Chloe. But a clear child’s voice cut through the room: “Sorry,my mommy likes that necklace.My bid is…no limit!” … The entire hall fell silent. Damian,fiddling with an expensive watch on his wrist,shot a cold glare at the little boy standing on a chair.His tone was sharp.“Kid,do you even know what’no limit’means?Where are your parents?” The little boy,Leo,put his hands on his hips and tilted his head up proudly.“Don’t you dare mention that idiot who took too many pucks to the head!It’s bad luck!” The auctioneer on stage looked troubled.“Young man,the starting bid is five million dollars.Are you sure you want to participate?” Guests started whispering. “Whose kid is this?Talks big.If his dad knew he was bluffing here,he’d probably have a heart attack!” For some reason,Damian’s nose itched,and he let out a loud sneeze. Chloe Vanderbilt frowned,walked over,and shoved Leo off the chair.“Where did this brat come from?No manners at all!This is a charity gala,not your playground!” Caught off guard,Leo screamed as he fell backward.“Mommy,save me!” The instant before he hit the floor,I pushed through the crowd and rushed toward him. The heel of my stiletto snapped,and I fell hard,shielding the child with my arms. Thankfully,I held Leo tightly,and he was unharmed. When I stood up with him in my arms,a flash of shock crossed Damian’s eternally calm blue eyes.His signature icy voice wavered for the first time.“Ava?What are you doing here?”

Before I could speak,his teammates started jeering. “Captain,isn’t that the intern from back then?” “Five years,and now she’s shacked up with some old geezer from Wall Street,playing mistress!” Chloe immediately wrapped her arm around Damian’s,possessively.“So you’re the therapist who harassed Damian and got kicked off the team?Like mother,like son.This kid is already a little liar,trying to bid on a five-million-dollar necklace!” Leo curled up in my arms,hurt.“Mommy,I wasn’t lying.Grandpa gave me a card and said today is your birthday,and I could buy you a present.” As he spoke,he fumbled in his pocket.“Grandpa said this black card can buy anything.He can afford it!” All eyes were on his pocket. The next second,he pulled out…a shiny,limited-edition Superman trading card. The crowd erupted in sharp,mocking laughter. “Ha,a Superman card?Does he think this is Gotham City?He wants to buy The Queen’s Heart with that!” “She must be desperate for money!” As the sole grandson of the Wall Street legend Marcus Thorne and future heir to the Thorne Group,Leo had never been so humiliated. He burst into tears in my arms.“Mommy,I’m not lying!The black card must have fallen out in the car.” I stroked his hair,comforting him softly.“It’s okay,sweetie.Tell Mommy,which one did you like?” Leo pointed to the dazzling blue sapphire necklace on the stage. The next second,I calmly raised my bidding paddle and said to the auctioneer,“I bid ten million dollars.”

The jeers around me were almost deafening. “A disgraced intern trying to show off.How shameless!” Chloe sneered.“Can you even afford it?This is a Sotheby’s auction,not the sporting goods store you work at!” Damian’s brow furrowed,and he stopped fiddling with his watch.“Ava,how long are you going to keep making a scene with this kid you picked up from God knows where?I don’t care whose child he is,but you’ve clearly taught him badly!” I looked at him,my eyes filled with nothing but cold indifference. What right did he have to judge my child? Seeing my silence,Chloe fanned the flames.“If your sugar daddy finds out his trashy mistress and her bastard son are embarrassing him here,do you think you’ll still get your allowance next month?” His teammates joined in. “Exactly!Can your bald old man handle the consequences of pissing off our captain?” “Don’t come crawling back to us,begging the Captain and Chloe for forgiveness when you two get kicked to the curb!” Through all of this,Damian’s gaze locked onto me,filled with a mix of probing and disgust. “Ava,you left without a word back then.Was it because you couldn’t wait to find your next meal ticket?”He glanced at Leo in my arms and demanded,“And this child,who did you have him with?”

I held Leo even tighter. Bastard son? Right.In the eyes of the high-and-mighty“Ice God,”I would always be the lowly intern,easily discarded. Five years ago,I only got close to him to win a bet with my father—that I could handle the coldest hockey player in New York and prove I was capable of handling any difficult problem.Why else would I have become his intern? After leaving him,I never regretted having Leo. If my father knew that his precious daughter and grandson were being humiliated like this,it would only take a single phone call for every one of these people’s companies to go bankrupt tomorrow. The auctioneer confirmed again,“Ma’am,are you certain about your ten-million-dollar bid?” “I’m certain.” The moment I spoke,one of Damian’s teammates snatched my paddle and threw it on the floor.“Can she afford it?A physical therapist couldn’t make ten million even if she gave a Middle Eastern prince private service for a decade!” I was furious.To keep a low profile,I had left my security team and my phone outside,thinking I was just attending a simple dinner. A huge mistake.

Instantly,Leo clung to me,crying out at the group.“You bully my mommy,and my grandpa will never forgive you!My grandpa is Marcus Thorne!” His words were met with a brief silence,followed by an even louder roar of laughter. “Marcus Thorne?The’Ghost of Wall Street’who never appears on any magazine cover?You little liar,you might as well say your grandpa is Superman!” “This kid is full of lies.His mother must be a terrible influence!” Leo was overwhelmed by the vicious voices.He kept crying,“I’m not lying!I’m not a liar!” He had grown up surrounded by the love and protection my father and I had built for him.He had never seen how ugly people could be. He buried his head in my chest,his body trembling with sobs.“Mommy,I’m not a liar…Why are they saying that…?” Seeing the situation spiral out of control,I had to back down for Leo’s sake.“I’m sorry,everyone.My son doesn’t know any better.We’ll pass on the necklace.” But as I tried to leave,Damian’s teammates surrounded me. “Trying to leave now?Too late!” “Weren’t you acting all high and mighty?Scared now?” One of them,a blond player,looked me up and down crudely.“Or,you could spend a night with each of us,and maybe we can chip in and buy you a replica of the necklace,hahaha.” Just as his filthy hand was about to touch me,there was a sharp snap.The lucky bracelet Damian had worn for years suddenly broke,its beads scattering across the floor. He stared at me,furious.“Ava,five years and you’ve fallen this low?You’ll sell anything for money?And have a child with another man?”

He knew those words were meant to humiliate me. But he believed them. Our eyes met,and the disgust in his was like a blade of ice. The man who had been my lover every night five years ago was now speaking the most venomous words. I let out a cold laugh.“Yes,I had him with someone else.Is there a problem?” My words stung Damian.He grabbed my wrist,his grip so tight it felt like he would crush the bone.His eyes held a suppressed madness.“Answer me!Why did you even bother with me back then?You’re so filthy,just how many men’s beds have you been in?!” My heart sank. At that moment,Leo broke free from my arms and slammed his small body into Damian.“Don’t you bully my mommy!You big bully!” Damian stumbled back.Chloe quickly steadied him,then yelled at Leo,“You little brat!If your mother can’t teach you manners,I’ll do it for her!” As she spoke,she raised her hand to strike Leo! “Leo,run!”I screamed in terror. But a player had already grabbed Leo from behind,lifting him into the air by his collar. Leo’s feet dangled as he struggled.“Let me go!You’re all bullies!My grandpa will get you for this!” The men only laughed harder,tossing him around like a toy. Suddenly,Leo’s face turned deathly pale.He began to cough violently,and his eyes started to flutter shut. I lunged forward like a madwoman,all dignity forgotten,and screamed at Damian,“Leo isn’t a bastard!He’s your son!”

The air froze. A few seconds later,the crowd erupted in even harsher laughter. “She’s lost it.The woman is completely insane!Trying to trap the Ice God himself!” “Doesn’t she know the Knight family has a history of genetic problems?It’s a known secret they have trouble having children.And she dares claim that mutt is the Captain’s?” The blond player’s hand went slack,and he dropped Leo onto the floor. Leo’s head hit the cold marble,and his forehead was instantly a bloody mess. “Leo!”I scrambled over,pulling him into my arms,my heart breaking.“Sweetie,does it hurt?” The child curled up,whispering weakly,“Mommy…I don’t feel good…I want to go home…” Tears I could no longer hold back streamed down my face. Damian watched this whole farce with ice in his eyes,his voice devoid of emotion.“Ava,I never thought you could be this shameless.If it weren’t for my family’s difficulty in having children,I might have actually believed your bullshit.” Just then,the child’s health monitoring watch on Leo’s wrist let out a shrill alarm.The heart rate on the display was plummeting. I struggled to pick him up and rush out.“Get out of my way!All of you,move!” But Chloe blocked my path.“Stop the act.He just took a little fall.Is it necessary to be so dramatic?”

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My Fated Mate, Liam, was toying with my best friend Chloe—right in front of me. He was releasing his scent on purpose, drawing me toward him like a lure so I’d have no choice but to watch. Outside the werewolves-only nightclub, our so-called mutual friends were laying bets on whether I’d have the guts to sever the Mate Bond and file for divorce. “No way Serena walks. Liam owns half the state—he’s a top-tier Alpha.” “Please. She’s an Omega. She couldn’t excite an Alpha if her life depended on it. Why do you think Liam’s screwing Chloe? And she’s just a Beta.” “Hey, Liam, say something. You think that mate of yours has the nerve to leave you?” Through the half-open door of the private booth, I saw Chloe. My best friend. She was draped across Liam’s lap, tilting her head back to press a slow kiss against his mouth. “Serena?” she said, her voice thick with contempt and certainty. “That parasite? Without an Alpha to shelter her, she wouldn’t survive a week.” Liam raised an eyebrow and gave me a slow, mocking smile through the doorway. Then, holding my gaze, he stubbed out his cigar and pressed one large hand against Chloe’s hip, forcing her down hard against the leather couch. His eyes went dark with that wild Alpha hunger, and he tore open the thin silk of her dress in one rough motion. Chloe let out a coy little gasp, then eagerly wrapped her legs around his solid waist. The heavy breaths came next. Then the primal, brutal rhythm of flesh against flesh. Chloe’s breathy moans blended with Liam’s low, possessive growls, and every sound of it poured straight into my ears. The cloying, syrupy scent unique to heat rolled out through the gap in the door and stabbed at my senses. I stood outside, shaking. That’s when I understood: he’d released the scent on purpose. He wanted me here. He wanted to watch his mate fall apart. But I was even more pitiful than they thought—I couldn’t even bring myself to push the door open. I just drew a slow breath, forced my Inner Wolf’s grieving howl back down, and dialed a number. Chloe’s mate. “Shawn, Chloe’s drunk. She’s at the nightclub. You should come get her.” Shawn was an Alpha—exiled by another pack. Once, protecting Chloe, he’d killed a man in a half-shift. The Council had ruled against him, stripping him of his territory. Chloe had complained to me more than once that Shawn was beneath her now. “Who’s she drinking with?” Shawn’s voice came through the phone, hoarse and cold. I answered right away. “Friends. Rough male wolves, the loud, handsy type. You should hurry.” Shawn made a rough sound of agreement, breathing hard, and said he was on his way. I hung up and turned to leave. Chloe’s smug voice echoed in my head—something she’d bragged about more than once: *”Shawn used to be an Alpha. He tore out throats to protect me. Not one or two men, either—otherwise how would an Alpha like him end up exiled?”* I’d only just reached the end of the hallway when my phone rang. Liam. “You saw, didn’t you?” he said. “Enjoy the show?” His voice carried the full weight of an Alpha’s dominance right through the receiver. My lips parted. My throat closed. I said nothing. “I saw you,” he went on. “Was the sound good?” The tenderness in his voice was worse than silver burning my skin. I made a small sound of acknowledgment. A quiet *mm*. Liam laughed under his breath. “Coward.” He was right. By now, the whole pack knew I was a coward. He’d played with my best friend, in front of me, in front of the whole pack. “Come on, she doesn’t even dare walk in? That’s just sad!” Laughter erupted inside the booth—cruel, careless heckling. Then Chloe grabbed the phone. Her voice came through, smiling and light. “If I’d known you were this scared of losing your Alpha, I wouldn’t have wasted money on scent-blocker.” Her tone turned honeyed. “But doing it behind your back? God, the thrill. I’ve been sampling your mate on your behalf, Serena. Full marks on all counts. I’ll be keeping him, thanks.” “Chloe, keep going and the poor little Omega’s going to cry.” “Liam, aren’t you going to comfort her?” Someone piped up from the sidelines, but this time Liam actually sounded serious. “Cut it out. If she cries, I’ll have to deal with it later. Serena isn’t like you—she’s easier to soothe, so quit picking on her.” Then he took the phone back and offered me his charity, that gentle condescension I knew so well. “Where are you? The bathroom? I’ll come find you. It’s not safe out there.” I turned toward the corridor and watched his tall frame push through the door. He stood there a moment, phone raised, then spotted me and hung up. His expression was pure satisfaction—with just a trace of a predator savoring the moment it caught its prey. He walked over, reached out, and ruffled my hair the way you’d pet a nervous animal. “She’s not like you. You’re my rightful Luna. Why the tears?” “Come on, be good. I’m not going to break the bond with you.” His voice was indulgent, warm—the tone you use with something you own. Then the door swung open, and Chloe stumbled out. Her clothes were half-fastened, her curls tumbling across her pale collarbone, the neckline of her dress hanging low enough to promise more than it hid. She tripped forward and fell against Liam’s chest. His hand went to her waist automatically—his palm, hot, spread across her bare skin. Chloe tilted her head against him and lifted her eyes to mine. “Liam, it hurts,” she murmured. “You were too rough. My legs won’t stop shaking.” She pouted, rubbed her stomach, and let her voice go soft and coaxing. “Take me home? Serena knows now anyway, so what’s the point in hiding? You don’t mind, do you, Serena?” She looked straight at me, all pride and gloating. “After all—she’s just an Omega. She can’t handle a man like you. Only I can take that kind of love.” At that exact moment, my phone lit up. Shawn, asking for my location. Blank-faced, I pinned the location and sent it.

Then I raised my head and looked Liam dead in the eye. “And if I do mind?” Something flickered across Liam’s handsome face—hesitation, maybe. He tried to peel Chloe off him, but she went limp against his chest like clay, arms locked tight around his waist. She pouted. “We’ve done it plenty of times on your own territory. Why the sudden gentleman act?” She scoffed, then turned toward me with her chin raised in triumph. “Didn’t you say it yourself? Serena in bed is like a dead fish. Zero fun.” Liam shot me a nervous glance. “Just jokes. Just something I say to tease her.” I dug my nails into my palm and gave a light, indifferent, “Oh.” “Then I’ll help you take her home.” “You’ll *what*?” Chloe stared at me like she couldn’t have heard right. I lifted my chin and looked steadily at the two of them—the man and woman who’d trampled the Mate Bond without shame. “You said your head hurts. Liam and I will take you home together.” Then, ignoring the pressure of an Alpha and a Beta bearing down on me, I stepped forward and took hold of her arm. Liam blinked, then let out something like a laugh. He reached out and brushed a finger down the tip of my nose, all indulgence. “Well, well. My Luna finally got jealous? Little bit of temper isn’t bad on you.” The gesture and the tone were unbearably intimate—as if the betrayal had never happened. My stomach turned, but I kept my face still. It made me think of the werewolf academy. A she-wolf had cornered me in the locker room once, shredded my clothes with her claws. I’d stood there just like this—swallowing it, letting it happen. It was Liam who’d shown up. Liam who’d flooded the room with Alpha dominance and cowed her. He’d frowned, stripped off his black jacket, and dropped it around my shoulders. *”You should have some fight in you. Act like a real wolf.”* The girl never showed her face at the academy again. Liam always assumed it was his doing—the mighty Alpha, defender of his little Omega. He never knew the truth: that the same girl had been caught mid-tryst with her Alpha by her own strict, church-going father. And that I was the one who’d led her father there. She’d been forced off the territory. She never had another chance to bother me. I was happy to let Liam play hero. That’s why I never told him. Chloe’s voice yanked me back. “Who said I’m going home? We planned to go three rounds tonight. That was just the warm-up. Next we do it in the car, then at the hotel.” She batted her eyes at Liam, coy. “You don’t want to, Liam? Come on. In the car. Whole new scenery.” Liam’s dark eyes flicked between us. Before he could open his mouth, I spoke first. “Liam. We’re going home. To the main house.” I held his gaze. Right in front of me, Chloe slowly slid her stockinged leg up along his and locked her eyes onto his. “Naughty little outfit,” she purred. “I stashed it in the car. Miss out tonight and I’m not wearing it again.” Liam’s pupils narrowed. Every trace of hesitation drained out of him and left only the animal underneath. “Serena. You go home first.” He’d made his choice. His voice was flat, cold, final. I let my eyes rim red and my face crumple, as if I were being torn in half. “You’re sure?” I whispered. He nodded, then frowned, impatient. “Do as you’re told. Unless you want to be stripped of your Luna status.” I inhaled slowly, feigning the ragged breath of someone whose chest was cracking open. Chloe covered her mouth and let out a small, wicked laugh. “Don’t tell me you want to stay and watch from the driver’s seat? That’d be cruel. For an Omega like you.”

I said nothing. So Chloe leaned closer, right up against my ear, and whispered like she was sharing a secret. “Want to know when the first time was?” “You were miscarrying. Lying in the hospital, weak as a kitten. That’s when we did it—on your bed.” “He pressed me down against the edge of the mattress and took me like an animal.” “Serena. If you’re smart, you’ll dissolve the bond and walk away.” Every muscle in my body locked. Somewhere deep inside me, my wolf was screaming. That baby had been my first. A pup I’d waited for, guarded like glass. And still lost. Liam had made excuses the whole time I was in the hospital. Never stayed. I’d lain in that empty room alone, gritting my teeth just to get through it. So that was where he’d been. I stared at Chloe. “Why?” I whispered. “Why would you do this? You have a mate. He loves you.” Chloe answered as if it were obvious. “Top-tier Alphas like Liam are rare. Leave him with you and somebody was going to steal him eventually. And we’re best friends—might as well be me. As for Shawn… sure, he’s strong. But he’s a stray. A thug. Only Liam is worthy of me.” I checked the time on my phone. Shawn was maybe ten minutes out. I tested her. “Won’t Shawn come after you? You’ve said yourself he has a violent streak. Aren’t you afraid?” At the mention of his name, Chloe’s tone flattened into contempt. “He’s a fool. I crook my finger and he does anything I want.” She smiled, drew a slow circle on Liam’s chest, and lifted her chin. “Worst case, I trick him into breaking our bond. He’s just like you, Serena—too stupid to see it coming.” Not a shred of feeling for her actual mate. “And if he catches you cheating?” I asked. Fear flashed across Chloe’s face. She wound her legs tighter around Liam’s and turned to him, nodding fiercely. “He never will. I train him like a dog. You have no idea how much he loves me.” I laughed quietly inside my head and glanced at my phone. Shawn: *Almost there.* Suddenly, letting them off this easy felt like a waste. I wanted to see it. I wanted to watch a rabid wolf bite. So I turned to Liam with pleading eyes. “I’ll drive for you. Do what you want in the car, then come home to the main house with me. Please?” I performed the perfect, groveling Omega. Liam’s eyes widened. “You—you really can’t be without me?” Chloe was quick to jab in with a sneer. “Serena. How can you be this pathetic? Wagging your tail like a mutt. What are you even hoping for?” I made my expression into that of a woman who had no life without her Alpha. “When we were at the academy, if Liam hadn’t protected me, I don’t know what I would have done. The tuition for those four years came from him. Since then he’s supported me with pack resources. Chloe—I can’t survive without his shelter.” And to be fair, Liam really was strong. First-rate at seizing resources. Under his shadow, I—an Omega—never had to think about money or status. I’d sailed through my master’s, then my doctorate, and settled quietly into position as the pack’s behind-the-scenes strategist. Chloe went still, jaw tightening. Envy warped her face. Liam’s golden pupils narrowed at her, and he let out a small ripple of warning dominance. “Don’t talk to her like that.” Then, to Chloe, in the calm voice of a man reminding an inferior of her place: “I told you from the start—you and I are just fun. Don’t drag Serena into this. And I’m not leaving her to marry you. Or is there… some other reason you want the bond broken?” An Alpha’s suspicion was fatal. Chloe’s face went white. She dropped the arrogance instantly and pressed herself against him, all softness. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want the Omega spoiling our night.”

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I carried the Cartier ring box to Chloe’s place. My friend for ten years. In my haste,I had grabbed my fiancéJulian’s phone. I stepped into her Upper East Side apartment. A second later,the phone connected to her WiFi. I froze. Julian had never mentioned coming here. But the password was saved on his phone. Chloe’s eyes flickered to the phone in my hand. A triumphant smirk touched her lips. “Stop guessing,Ella.For the past three years,every time he said he was flying to Tokyo or London,he was here.In my bed.” I clutched the cold velvet box. Ten years of my life,a planned lie. She pulledan ultrasound scan from her Hermès bag and waved it in my face. “Eight weeks,”she said. “You can still marry Julian.My baby’s going to need a full-time nanny anyway.” The apartment’s smart lock clicked. Julian walked in,carrying takeout from a gourmet restaurant. Our eyes met. The smile on his face vanished. I quietly slipped the ring box back into my pocket. From that moment on,Chloe was out of my life. So was Julian Thorne. … “What are you doing with my phone?” Julian took off his Ferragamo shoes. He placed the takeout on the entryway console. His gaze swept from the report in Chloe’s hand to me. After a brief shock,he loosened his tie. He went to Chloe and wrapped his arms around her. “Well,you’ve seen it.No need to hide it.” He looked up at me,his voice calm. “The report is real.She’s carrying my child.The Thorne Group and my estate require an heir.” I clenched the ring box in my pocket. “So?”My voice was barely a whisper. Julian frowned,displeased with my response. “What’s with the attitude?I haven’t even called you out for invading my privacy and taking my phone.” He took a sip of Perrier from the table. He said it like it was nothing. “The doctors have made their assessment.After two miscarriages,another pregnancy would be too high-risk for you.” “I need an heir.Chloe is helping us.After the child is born,you—the future Mrs.Thorne—will raise it.You get a family heir without the risk.So what exactly is your problem?”

Ten years. From a nobody on Wall Street to the head of a financial empire—I was there for every step. Shielding him from rivals cost me two pregnancies. But in the end,he had an affair with my best friend. He called it a”solution”for my own good. Chloe nestled against Julian’s shoulder. She stroked her flat stomach. “Ella,we’ve been like sisters our whole lives.The three of us under one roof.My baby will be ours.You’ve always wanted a family.Now your wish is coming true.” Julian gently patted Chloe’s hair. “See?Chloe is so kind.But you’re always emotional.” He pulled a document from his briefcase and tossed it on the coffee table. “This is an addendum to the prenup.My legal team already drafted it.The wedding in the Hamptons next month is still on.You will still be Mrs.Thorne—in name.” “But Chloe has a high-risk pregnancy.The doctor ordered bed rest.I’m having her move into our home to recover.She’ll stay with us as my‘distant cousin.’” I stared at the paper. My lips twisted into a sarcastic smile. “Staying as your cousin?And what happens after the baby is born?” “We’ll have you legally adopt him.He will be the rightful Thorne heir.Chloe is young.She doesn’t want a child tying down her social life.” Julian took out a Montblanc pen. He held it out to me. “As compensation,I’ll double the limit on your black card.The money is for taking care of Chloe and the baby.Ella,don’t be greedy.I gave you the kind of life most women in this city would kill for.What else do you want?”

He looked at me with chilling sincerity. To him,I was nothing more than a career-less dependent—a shiny possession for him to manage. Chloe picked up the pen. She pressed it into my palm. “Sign it,Ella.You gave Julian your best ten years.You have no work history.You can’t make it in New York without him.” I placed the pen back on the table. “No.” Julian’s expression darkened. “Ella Vance,don’t push your luck.I regret what happened to those pregnancies.Think of this baby as compensation.” He stood up and looked down at me. “I’m giving you one last chance.Sign it.” I stood up and took out the Cartier ring box. Then I threw it straight into the trash. “I’ll think about it.” I turned and walked away. I heard him sit down behind me. Then Chloe spoke behind me. “I knew she would come around.Julian,let’s pick out rings on Fifth Avenue tomorrow.I like Argyle pink diamonds.”

Night fell. I returned to the penthouse on Central Park West. Julian and I had lived there for five years. I typed in the familiar code. The electronic lock beeped:”Incorrect.” I froze,tried again,but got the same result. I stood outside my own door. Two hours later,the private elevator opened. Julian stepped out,supporting Chloe. He frowned when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?Why aren’t you inside?” “The code was changed.” Julian slapped his forehead. “Oh,right.The old code was your birthday.Too simple,a security risk.I changed it to Chloe’s birthday.” He keyed in the new code and the door opened. In the entryway,my usual Manolo Blahnik slippers were gone. In their place sat a pair of non-slip maternity slippers. “Yours had hard soles,”Julian explained casually,helping Chloe toward the master bedroom. “Chloe could slip,so I had the housekeeper throw them out.” I followed them to the master bedroom door. My blood ran cold. My entire collection of La Mer and CPB skincare products was gone,thrown in the trash. In the walk-in closet,most of my Chanel and Dior couture gowns had been moved. The racks were full of Chloe’s maternity clothes. “Julian,what is this?” I pointed at the half-empty closet.

Julian was pouring Evian for Chloe. He didn’t turn around. “Chloe is sensitive to scents during her pregnancy.The doctor said to avoid all fragranced products.The housekeeper moved your things to the guest room.You’ll stay there for the next few months.” Chloe leaned against the headboard,rubbing her stomach. “Ella,you’re not mad,are you?The doctor said I have to stay in bed.The master bedroom has better light and air.We’re best friends.You’ll understand,right?” Seeing her hypocritical performance,I didn’t have the energy to argue. The next morning,I sat in the dining room eating oatmeal. Julian came out of the bedroom. He put his phone on speaker in front of me. “Hello,is this the Vera Wang bridal boutique?This is Julian Thorne.I need to change the bride’s name on the wedding invitations.Please replace it with Chloe Vale.” My grip on the spoon tightened until my knuckles turned white. The assistant on the other end sounded shocked. “Mr.Thorne,what about Ms.Vance…?” Julian pulled out a chair and sat. He glanced at me coolly. “Ella?She’ll be the maid of honor.” He hung up and took a sip of milk. “Chloe wants to be the bride.She’s pregnant.Don’t upset her.It’s only a wedding.” Chloe walked out of the bedroom in my silk robe. She wrapped her arms around Julian’s neck,then turned to me. Her smile was pure. “Ella,will you be my maid of honor?I want you to witness my happiness in person.” Julian tapped the table. “Chloe is talking to you.Don’t be so petty.It’s just a wedding.” I looked down at the thick oatmeal in my bowl. Ten years of devotion. In the end,even my place as the bride could be stripped away. I put down my spoon and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Okay.” Julian smiled in satisfaction. “We need to keep the peace.”

“The Met Gala is tonight.Wear something simple.Don’t outshine Chloe.” On the sofa was a gray,out-of-season gown. His assistant had prepared it for me. Nearby,Chloe wore a custom Oscar de la Renta maternity gown. She stood beside Julian. Around her neck was the Argyle pink diamond necklace. It was supposed to be mine. “Julian,do I look good?” He put an arm around her waist. “You look incredible,baby.All eyes will be on you tonight.” He turned to me,his brow furrowed. “What are you waiting for?Go get changed.Don’t keep everyone waiting.” I picked up the gray gown and went to the guest room. When I came out,Julian and Chloe were already gone. I had to take an Uber to the museum alone. I pushed open the doors to the banquet hall. Julian was laughing with business leaders,a champagne flute in hand. Chloe clung intimately to his arm. I walked toward them slowly. I was about to stand beside Julian. An executive from JPMorgan pointed at Chloe. “Julian,who is this beautiful lady?” Julian raised his glass. He smiled broadly as he announced to the room. “Everyone,I’d like you to meet my fiancée,Chloe.”

A chorus of compliments erupted. A Goldman Sachs partner I knew spotted me in the corner. He looked surprised. “And this is Ms.Vance?” The hall fell silent. All eyes turned to me. Their gazes were a mix of curiosity,pity,and scorn. Julian didn’t even look back. His tone was light. “She’s just a distant cousin.” Ten years together. He erased our past with one sentence. Now I was just a”distant cousin.” Halfway through dinner,Chloe walked toward me with a glass of red wine. She stumbled on purpose. The entire glass of wine spilled onto my gray gown. “Oops,I am so clumsy!My bad,Ella!” She covered her mouth,feigning shock. But her eyes held a triumphant glint. Julian rushed over. He shoved me aside and checked on Chloe. “Are you okay?Is the baby okay?” He snapped at me. “What are you doing standing here?You know her pregnancy is high-risk,and you still stood in her way?Go to the restroom and clean up.Stop embarrassing me.” The gala ended. I waited in the parking garage for the driver. Chloe cried out. “Julian,I twisted my ankle.It hurts.” Without a word,Julian crouched down. “Get on.I’ll carry you.” Chloe climbed onto his back. She looked at me over his shoulder. She silently mouthed the words: Ten years can’t compete with my three-month-old baby. I stopped walking. Julian turned back,his voice impatient. “Ella Vance,hurry!The Bentley key is in your bag!” I stopped dead in my tracks. “Get the key over here!”he yelled. I opened my purse. The crystal-studded car key was in my hand. I threw it onto the oil-stained pavement. The clatter of metal was sharp and piercing. Julian froze. I didn’t look at him again. I hailed a yellow cab and left. Back at the penthouse,the MacBook screen lit up. I dragged thousands of our photos into the trash and hit delete. Photos from college until now. All the cloud backups were encrypted. Every password was changed. A message from Julian arrived. “Remember the bridesmaid dress fitting tomorrow.Chloe wants pink.” I didn’t reply. I wasn’t enduring. I was collecting evidence and waiting for the right moment. Three packed Rimowa suitcases stood in the corner of the living room. I was ready to leave.

“This pink dress suits you,Ella.Come try it on.” Wearing my custom wedding gown,Chloe shoved a cheap pink bridesmaid dress into my arms. Julian sat on the sofa,reading The Wall Street Journal. He didn’t even look up. “Go change.Don’t keep Chloe waiting.” I went into the fitting room and changed. When I came out,Chloe was hanging off Julian’s arm,all soft smiles and fake sweetness. Julian lowered the newspaper. The awe in his eyes was only for Chloe in her wedding gown. “Beautiful.You make anything look good.” Chloe walked over to me. She took my hand. Her voice was soft,but every word was meant to hurt. “Ella,you have to be happy for us.We’re best friends.The three of us will live together from now on.My child will call you godmother.You can stay home and help me with the baby.I’ll have Julian pay you a monthly salary.” Julian chimed in. “Ella,Chloe’s being generous.She’s literally trying to make sure you’re taken care of.” Watching their performance was absurd. I pulled my hand away. I took off the pink bridesmaid dress and tossed it on the sofa. “I’m not wearing this.”

“Ella Vance,what the hell is your problem now?” Julian shot to his feet. I ignored him and walked out of the bridal shop. That afternoon,the wedding rehearsal was held at St.Patrick’s Cathedral. Chloe linked arms with Julian,walking down the flower-lined aisle. I sat in the pews. A complete outsider. The rehearsal ended. I was the only one left in the vast cathedral. Julian came back for his car keys. He saw me and hesitated,then sat down beside me. “Ella,I know this is hard on you.” He lit a cigar. “I haven’t forgotten what you did for me.I’ll compensate you generously when the baby is born.You can have anything you want.The only thing I can’t give you is the title of Mrs.Thorne.” I turned to look at him. Light from the stained-glass windows fell on his profile. My voice was ice-cold. “Julian,in these ten years,was there ever a single moment you felt you owed me anything?” The hand holding his cigar paused. He was silent for a few seconds,then blew out a ring of smoke. “From my small apartment in Brooklyn to a penthouse on Central Park.For ten years,I gave you the best life in New York.My conscience is clear.” Those four words were a blade of ice. They severed the last thread of hope inside me. “Fine.I understand.” I stood up.

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Seven days before the wedding, and my fiancé had gotten my name wrong on the invitations for the ninety-ninth time. Three hundred invitations had gone out. Every single one bore another woman’s name. Lily Hart. I brought a sample to him. Nathan’s brow creased with impatience. “Lily’s been in a bad place lately. Don’t upset her with something this petty. Besides, she saved my life. What’s wrong with giving her a little presence at the wedding?” I looked past him into the apartment that was supposed to be ours. My whole body was trembling. Lily Hart was wearing my pajamas, my engagement ring on her finger, sitting on the sofa I’d picked out myself, smiling at me. “Claire, you don’t mind, do you? Nathan said my back hurts, so he’s letting me sleep in the master bedroom tonight.” I set the invitation on the table. My finger pressed down on the line that read Lily Hart. “Fine.” I’d given up the master bedroom. I’d given up the name on the invitations. The wedding and the groom—I didn’t want those either. Lily snatched up the invitation faster than I could set it down. She flipped it open, and when she saw the line Bride: Lily Hart, her fingers lingered on the gold-foil lettering for two seconds. The wedding planner stood beside her, smiling cautiously. “Ms. Bennett, Mr. Whitmore confirmed it three times. Take another look, anything else you’d like changed?” Three times. Every letter on that cardstock was perfectly clear. No Claire Bennett. Only Lily Hart. Nathan came out of the kitchen carrying a warm glass of milk and handed it to Lily without thinking. “What are you doing here again?” I pushed the invitation in front of him. “You confirmed it three times.” He glanced down, annoyance creeping between his brows. “The wedding company made a mistake. Have them reprint it.” “They’ve already been sent out.” “Then send a correction email.” He said it so easily. Three hundred invitations with another woman’s name printed where the bride’s should be, and he spoke as if someone had gotten a dish wrong on the dinner menu. Just fix it. Lily cradled her mug, and her eyes reddened instantly, tears spilling on cue. “Nathan, it’s all my fault… I shouldn’t have helped you review the details. Is Claire… is she upset with me?” Nathan reached over and wiped the tear from the corner of her eye, his voice so gentle it was as though he feared she might shatter. “It’s not your fault. You were just trying to help. If she can’t even handle this without making a fuss, she’s the one being unreasonable.” I suddenly remembered last week. My stomach was cramping so badly I’d slid off the sofa onto the floor. I texted him to bring me a glass of warm water. He replied forty minutes later. “There’s water in the kitchen. Get it yourself.” But Lily mentions her back hurts once, and he gives up the master bedroom, heats her milk, drapes the robe I’d chosen over her shoulders. The wedding planner asked quietly: “Ms. Bennett, so are we making the change or…?” I said: “No changes.” Nathan looked up. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I stood. I placed the invitation back in the center of the coffee table. “The entire wedding is canceled.” The living room went dead silent. Nathan’s hand froze mid-air, still holding the cup. His tone went cold. “Claire Bennett, are you done throwing a fit?” “The contracts are in my name. The money came from my account. I say it’s canceled—it’s canceled.” Lily bit her lip. Tears fell. “Claire, don’t do this. Nathan’s just been so busy. He didn’t mean to get your name wrong.” I looked at the ring on her hand. “Take it off.” She pulled her hand back. “It’s just the sample ring. Nathan said I should try it for sizing.” “My ring. You’re trying it on?” Nathan set down his cup. “Her fingers are about the same size as yours. She was just trying it on.” “And the master bedroom? Should she test the marriage bed for me too?” Nathan’s expression turned ugly. “Watch your mouth.” “Watch your behavior.” He stared at me. A few seconds passed, then he let out a cold laugh. “Fine. Make your scene. Your mother just sent invitations to all the relatives. Go ahead—cancel it. I dare you.” Before, when he used that tone to pin me down, I would panic. I would retreat. I would swallow my tears. Not this time. I took out my phone and called the wedding planner right in front of him. “Terminate everything. The dress, the hotel, the dinner, the invitations—all of it. Deduct the penalty from the deposit. Refund the balance to my account.” After I hung up, the smile was gone from Nathan’s face. Lily clutched the sash of the robe and lowered her head. That robe was a gift from my mother. She’d said it would be comfortable for the first morning as a newlywed—and would photograph beautifully too. I looked at it one last time, then turned toward the door. Nathan called after me: “If you walk out today, don’t bother coming back tomorrow!” I pulled the door open. “I won’t.” As the elevator doors closed, I heard Lily ask: “Nathan, she won’t really leave, will she?” Nathan’s answer: “She can’t live without me.” The elevator descended. I opened my phone and tapped on the email I’d just received. Westbridge General Hospital archive retrieval request—preliminary review approved. That rainy night seven years ago. Someone was finally willing to give me back the truth.

I returned to my rented apartment. The first thing I did was open my laptop. I canceled the banquet venue and the photographer. Returned the wedding gown. Withdrew the guest list. Every refund was routed back to my account. Nathan didn’t know that this entire wedding had been funded by me from start to finish. Mrs. Whitmore had said the family was tight on cash flow and asked me to cover things for now. “We’ll be family soon enough. What difference does it make whose name is on the bill?” Three million dollars. Thirty-six tables for the banquet, three wedding gowns, interior décor for the new apartment, honeymoon flights—even the gold-foil embossing on the invitations. All of it, my money. My father had asked me once: “Claire, is it really worth spending like this before you’re even married?” At the time, I’d said it was worth it. Because I loved Nathan Whitmore. Loved him enough that every time he put Lily ahead of me, I still made excuses for him. Loved him enough that when Mrs. Whitmore made me sign that nondisclosure agreement, I didn’t fight back. Looking back now, that wasn’t devotion. It was stupidity. My phone rang. It was my mother. “Claire, why is everyone in the family group chat saying the wedding’s off? What happened?” “Mom, I’m not getting married.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “Did he hurt you?” My nose stung. “Yeah.” My mother said only one thing: “Come home.” The doorbell rang then. I opened the door. Nathan stood outside, holding a document envelope. “Reinstate the hotel.” I didn’t let him in. “That’s not possible.” “My mother’s blood pressure spiked.” “Then take her to a hospital. I’m not a doctor.” “Claire, don’t take your anger out on your elders.” “I paid for the wedding. I canceled the wedding. How is that taking anything out on anyone?” He held back his temper and thrust the envelope at me. “I’ll pay you back. Just sign this first.” I opened it and glanced inside. Property transfer documents for the new apartment. I’d put two million toward the down payment. On those documents, next to Claire Bennett, it clearly stated: voluntary full transfer of property rights to Lily Hart. I looked up at him. “What is this?” He said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Lily doesn’t have any property under her name. She needs it for a business license application. It’s just temporary—her name on the title. It won’t affect you living there.” “My money bought that apartment, and you want her name on it?” “Once we’re married, we’re all family. Stop drawing such hard lines.” “She and I are not family.” Nathan’s jaw was tight with anger. “Do you have to make everything this ugly? Who’s the one losing face here, you or me?” His phone rang. Lily was crying on the other end. “Nathan, did I cause a fight between you two? I’ll move out right now. I won’t let Claire misunderstand anymore.” Nathan’s tone shifted instantly. “Shh, you didn’t do anything wrong. Stay put. I’m coming right back.” After hanging up, he looked at me. “She’s already miserable enough. Do you have to push her?” I asked: “What about me?” He didn’t answer. I asked again: “Don’t I get to feel miserable?” He looked away. “Don’t compare yourself to her. You and she are different.” When those words landed, I actually laughed. Seven years. He’d been protecting Lily so long it had become reflex. Whether I was in pain, humiliated, or wronged—none of it even registered with him. He tossed out one last line before stepping into the elevator: “Go apologize to Lily tomorrow. The wedding is back on.” The elevator doors closed. I looked down at the property documents. At the bottom of the envelope was a screenshot. Mrs. Whitmore, texting Lily: “We’ll let her find out about the property after the wedding. Once a woman’s married into the family, she’ll behave.” Lily’s reply: “Don’t worry, Auntie. She can’t bear to lose Nathan.” Followed by a smiley face. I stared at that screenshot for a long time. So this wasn’t a wedding. It was a trap they’d dug for me.

The next morning, Mrs. Whitmore showed up at my office. She hadn’t made an appointment. She was sitting by the front desk with a red gift bag in front of her. I’d just come out of a meeting. She pushed the bag toward me. “I’ve already called the wedding people. Everything that needs to be reinstated has been reinstated.” “That’s not possible.” The smile left her face. “Claire, a woman should know when to rein in her temper.” Inside the bag was a gold bracelet and a ledger. She tapped the ledger with her fingertip. “Everything Nathan has spent on you over the years—I haven’t tallied it precisely. The bracelet is a gesture from the Whitmore family.” I opened it. Seven years of dinners he’d treated me to, flowers he’d sent, holiday red envelopes, even cab fares—all itemized. Total: eighty-six thousand three hundred and twenty dollars. I asked her: “Would you like to itemize the three million I put toward the wedding too?” Mrs. Whitmore’s expression changed. “Child, why must everything with you come down to money?” “You’re the one who started keeping accounts.” She lifted her teacup and took a sip. “Nathan is a man. His career comes first. Once you marry in, stop fixating on these small sums.” “Three million is a small sum, but eighty-six thousand is a debt?” She was cornered. Her expression soured further. The receptionist and several colleagues had turned to look. Mrs. Whitmore lowered her voice. “Claire, some things cannot be made into a public scene. If you really tear off the Whitmore family’s face, don’t expect to ever walk through our door again.” “I have no intention of walking through it.” She set down her cup. “Think carefully. That agreement from seven years ago—you signed it.” I looked at her. “And?” “So there are things you cannot say. Things you cannot touch.” “What if I touch them?” She fixed her eyes on me. “The penalty is five million. Can you afford that?” I remembered that agreement. Seven years ago, I’d woken up with an IV still in my hand, and Mrs. Whitmore placed documents in front of me to sign. She said it was just to protect Nathan. She said as long as I was sensible, the Whitmore family would accept me as a daughter-in-law. I believed her then. Mrs. Whitmore pushed the gold bracelet closer. “The wedding continues. Sign the property transfer. And go apologize to Lily while you’re at it. Her health is fragile. She can’t handle you making trouble like this.” I took out my phone. “I’ll have a lawyer review that agreement.” “Claire Bennett, do you really think Nathan can’t live without you?” I looked at her. “You’re right. That’s why I don’t want him anymore.” Mrs. Whitmore stood, her face white with rage. “You’ll regret this.” “That’s my business.” After she left, a colleague from legal sent me a message. “Claire, that old agreement you mentioned—we’d need to check the medical records for the signing date. If you were still in post-operative recovery at the time, the document may not be enforceable.” I pulled up the hospital system. The records from seven years ago were locked. Access denied. That afternoon, an unfamiliar number called. The woman on the other end said her name was Parker. She’d worked in the emergency department at Westbridge General Hospital. “Ms. Bennett, I’m about to retire. While sorting through old files, I saw your name. There are some things I think should be returned to you.” I arranged to meet her across from the hospital. Nurse Parker sat by the window. Her hair had gone mostly gray. She slid an old USB drive across the table. “The surveillance footage from the ER corridor that night. Someone told me to delete it. I didn’t delete all of it.” I asked: “Who told you to delete it?” She didn’t answer. She just looked at me. “Watch it. You’ll understand.”

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Don Carlo was a dyed-in-the-wool conservative who despised violence. Me? I grew up with gunfire and bullets as my lullabies. The only reason he’d handed me divorce papers in the first place was because I’d dragged him along when we jumped from a shipping container down at the docks. But that was before I came across photos of him at the shooting range—with his female subordinate. An assassin. I had my people dig deeper. Hundreds of photos came back. Every single one of them featured the same woman: Valentina. On our anniversary, he said he was too swamped to come home and celebrate. Because Valentina’s mission had gone sideways that day, and he was busy comforting her. On Christmas, I asked him to make time to visit my parents with me. He begged off, saying he had urgent family matters to attend to. Because he felt bad for Valentina—alone in a foreign country with no one to spend the holidays with. I flipped through the photos, my fingers going numb. One intimate shot after another. There she was, leaning against his shoulder while eating cake. There he was, cleaning her gun for her. There they were, sitting side by side on the steps, sharing a cigarette. Then a hesitant voice cut through beside me. “Madam, Don Carlo might still be busy in there—today’s Valentina’s mission debriefing. Perhaps… you could wait a little longer?” I rose to my feet. “No need. Tell Don Carlo he’d better get ready to sign divorce papers.” Back at the apartment, I went straight to the master bedroom on the second floor and started packing. I set the signed divorce agreement on the nightstand—and looked up into a pair of jet-black eyes. Carlo’s gaze dropped to the two suitcases beside me, and his brow furrowed. “I had a debriefing with the men at noon. I had to be there. Couldn’t get away. And now you’re upset again?” I didn’t answer. I grabbed my suitcases and headed for the door. But he held them in place. “Isabella. Say something.” I stayed silent. He looked at me calmly, like I was a child throwing a tantrum. “When are you going to break that infuriating habit of going mute every time you get angry?” When I couldn’t tug the suitcases free, I let out a breath, straightened up, and said, “I want a divorce.” “On what grounds?” “You cheated on me. Isn’t that enough?” I brushed his hand aside and started for the door with my luggage. But he stopped me again. “Isabella, can we not do this? There’s only you. No one else.” “Oh, really?” I pulled out the stack of photos. “Then who’s this?” In the photos, they stood side by side at the shooting range, his hand over hers as he corrected her grip. Crystal clear. “You told me you were afraid of heights and hated guns. So how come that fear magically disappears when you’re with her?” “Tell me why.” I kept my voice as steady as I could. “Isabella. You had me investigated?” No apology. No admission. No explanation. Just an accusation. “Shouldn’t you start by explaining this?” He tugged at his tie, agitated, and let out a long breath. “Her name’s Valentina. She’s one of my soldiers. The kid’s last mission went sideways, she’s been in a bad place mentally, so I took her to the range.” “That’s all.” “Carlo. Do you even believe that yourself?” One photo could be written off. But a hundred of them? How was he going to talk his way out of that? He fell silent. I grabbed my suitcases again. He spoke. “Where are you going?” “To my parents’. For a while.” He said nothing. I’d reached the door when he finally said, “Give me some time. I’ll sort this out as soon as I can.” I didn’t look back. I walked out. When I got home, I didn’t tell my parents about the divorce. I just made up an excuse—said he’d been buried in work and I didn’t want to stay alone, so I’d come back to stay a while. Luckily, they didn’t press. The next day, I went to the family warehouse to take inventory as usual. But there was someone waiting at the entrance. Valentina. She looked exactly like she did in the photos. All in black. A little nervous. I walked past her and unlocked the door. She stopped me. “You must be Isabella.” I didn’t answer. She pressed on. “I need to talk to you about something. Can we?” She wore an innocent look. In the end, I let her in. She sat across from me, fidgeting, and started going on about Don Carlo. “Did he send you?” I asked. She lifted her chin, stubborn. “No. I came on my own.” “Leave. This is between him and me. I’ve got nothing to say to you.” I stood up to get back to work. She shot up too. “Miss Isabella, believe me or not—there’s nothing going on between Don Carlo and me. I was just upset that day and begged him to take me to the range. It was all a misunderstanding.” “A misunderstanding?” I laughed. I pulled the stack of photos from the drawer and slapped them onto the table. “Are all these hundred-odd photos a misunderstanding too?” Valentina went speechless. I brushed past her hand. “If you’re here to be an assassin, then be an assassin. Don’t try sleazy backdoor tricks to climb the ladder.” Her face turned pale, her eyes glistening like she’d burst into tears any second. She spun around and ran out.

It wasn’t long before I got a call from Don Carlo—calling me out for bullying Valentina. I was so furious I laughed, and went straight to his office. “Don Carlo, she came to me. And I’d love to know how she knew the location of my warehouse.” “Also—since you’ve got the time to come over and lay into me, why not just sign the divorce papers and go run off to your little girlfriend?” He was quiet. Several seconds passed before he spoke. “Isabella, you’re not thinking straight right now. I’ll come by tonight and we’ll talk.” He turned and left. And that night, he did. The warehouse door swung open, and he stood in the doorway. I was seated at my desk, going over the family ledgers. I didn’t even look up, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “What? Here to fight for your little girl’s honor?” He didn’t answer. Finally, he let out a sigh—helpless. “You are my wife, Isabella.” I ignored him. He went on. “I’m heading to Sicily this week for the elders’ meeting. I’ll be gone a week. When I get back, we’ll sort this out.” My hand paused on the ledger. He continued. “Since you don’t like Valentina, I’ll minimize contact with her from now on. I’m handing off all her missions to other capos. I won’t be directly involved anymore.” I kept flipping pages, saying nothing. He lingered at the door for a long time, then finally left. The next morning, a family messenger brought word that he’d set sail. For the next seven days, he sent me updates like clockwork. Sometimes it was about what was happening in his meetings. Sometimes it was a photo of his meal. Even though I never replied once. After seven days, he returned. The day he came back, he brought me a gift. A dagger, its hilt inlaid with a sapphire—exquisitely made. He took it out of the box and placed it gently in my palm. It fit perfectly in my grip. “Like it?” he asked. I didn’t answer, stubbornly turning my head away. He didn’t get upset. His tone was gentle. “I messed up this time. As long as you don’t divorce me, you can throw any tantrum you want, Isabella.” “As for moving back—stay here as long as you like. I’ll come see you every day.” With that, he left. That night, lying in bed, I studied the dagger in my hand. I decided to give him one more chance. Tomorrow was his birthday. I’d surprise him. The next afternoon, carrying the tiramisu I’d slaved over all morning, I returned to our apartment. I pushed open the door—and saw Valentina sitting at the dining table, urging Don Carlo to make a wish. Candlelight flickered across his face. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he saw me. I threw down the tiramisu and turned to walk out. “Isabella—” He caught up, grabbing my hand. “Isabella, let me explain. I didn’t expect you to come back. Valentina just came by to wish me a happy birthday.” “Didn’t expect me back? If I hadn’t shown up, what else would you two be doing behind my back?” He started to explain. Then, from inside, the sound of a glass shattering on the floor. Followed by Valentina’s startled cry. Don Carlo instinctively turned to check—then remembered me, and turned back. “Isabella, wait here. I’ll be right back.” I said nothing. I watched his back disappear, turned, and walked away.

The next day, he showed up outside my parents’ building, pleading. Luckily, my parents had left for Sicily two days earlier. They didn’t know. Which meant I could ignore him freely. He stood there for three full days. He sent word through someone, saying that day had truly been a misunderstanding—Valentina had come to him on her own. He couldn’t exactly turn her away. He said he’d transferred Valentina to another capo. That he’d never contact her again. He begged me for one more chance. I didn’t respond. On the fourth day, he didn’t show. He had business. I finally had a moment to myself, and went to the warehouse. I pushed open the door—and was met with chaos. Total devastation. Nearly half the family supplies—the ledgers I’d kept for years—were destroyed. Some torn to shreds. Some knocked to the ground. Everything in ruin. The lock hadn’t been forced. I checked the security logs. It turned out Valentina had used a key to get in and wreck the place. And there were only two keys to the warehouse: mine, and Don Carlo’s. I went straight to confront Valentina. Face to face. Her eyes were red, her hands clenched into fists, her expression pitiful. “Miss Isabella, I know you’ve been misunderstanding everything about Don Carlo and me, and you’re taking it out on me—even making him reassign me.” “But I already explained to you. There’s really nothing between Don Carlo and me.” “Why are you doing this to me?” “Don’t you think this is too much? Controlling Don Carlo every step of the way—do you really think that makes him happy?” “Or is it because of what happened to you in high school, Miss Isabella, that you’ve turned out this twisted?” “What did you say?” Instantly, the members of Valentina’s crew turned to stare at me. Whispers broke out. “Wait—really? She was assaulted back in high school?” “No wonder she’s so messed up. Guess that explains it. Poor Don Carlo—running the family and dealing with a broken wife.” “Picking on a young girl like that. Real classy.” I felt like I’d been dropped into an icy abyss. My grip on her wrist tightened. “Who told you that?” She didn’t answer. But I already knew. After all, the only person who knew and would tell her was Don Carlo. She leaned in, her lips curling upward—a world away from the fragile act she’d been putting on. “Don Carlo, of course. And that dagger he brought back from Sicily for you? I picked it out.” What…? I stood frozen. So Don Carlo had never actually cut ties with Valentina. Not only had he spent those seven days in Sicily—while messaging me every day—actually with her… The gift he gave me was chosen by her too. “The one who doesn’t deserve Don Carlo is you, Isabella.” Her eyes were venomous. Before I could react, a force shoved me aside. I stumbled, nearly falling. Don Carlo pushed through the crowd, shielding Valentina behind him. “Isabella, what exactly are you doing?” “I already did what you asked—transferred Valentina to another capo, cut contact. Why are you still going after her again and again?” Me, going after her? I laughed. I started to speak—but Don Carlo took Valentina’s hand and walked out of the warehouse without looking back. The others filed out too. Only a few scattered figures lingered nearby. Whispering. I left like a ghost.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/202607303vo48MRXbI 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni903930”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix