Author: Momo Chan

1 It was time for the groom to kiss the bride. I closed my eyes and leaned in toward my wife, Isabella, only to get a mouthful of fur. Her little assistant, Leo, was holding a camera, roaring with laughter. “The great Bronson Cross can’t even tell if he’s kissing his bride or a beast!” I stared at the panting husky in front of me, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. I was about to go after Leo when Isabella stopped me. “It was just a joke, Bronson. Don’t be so sensitive!” Leo’s face was flush with triumph, his tone dripping with arrogance. “She’s a bitch, too, Mr. Cross. Why don’t you just take her home and make her your wife? It’s not like you deserve my Bella anyway.” A wave of snickering rippled through our employees. That was it. I’d had enough. I sent him flying with a single, hard kick. The next second, a wine bottle shattered over my head. Isabella stood over me, demanding I get on my knees and apologize. I wiped a sticky mixture of wine and blood from my face and, with a cold smile, made an overseas call. “The wedding’s short one bride. You in?” I’d put all my strength into that kick. Leo’s face had turned a sickly green from the pain. The employees who had been laughing along with him fell silent, their eyes wide with shock. Everyone knew Leo was the apple of Isabella’s eye. To cross Leo was to cross Isabella. And I was, for all intents and purposes, Isabella’s number one doormat. Clutching his chest, Leo glared at me. “Can’t you take a joke? God, you’re so dramatic!” Then, turning to Isabella, his voice cracked. “Bella, my chest… it hurts. I think he broke a rib!” Instantly, two security guards had my arms pinned behind my back. Isabella, in her sharp stilettos, drove her heel into my stomach. She’d spent over a decade as a ballerina; the power in her legs was devastating. A bolt of agony shot through me. My face went pale, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. Isabella didn’t even seem to notice. Her eyes were fixed on me, filled with rage, as if I were her mortal enemy, not her husband. “Have you lost your mind, Bronson?” she hissed. “Leo was just trying to liven things up! It was a good-natured prank. You could have just swallowed a little dog fur and thanked him for the thought!” An itching sensation began to creep across my back. I looked at her, my eyes red-rimmed. “You know I’m allergic to dogs, Isabella.” She was unmoved. “So what? It’s not like an allergy is going to kill you. Stop being so pathetic and apologize to Leo. Now. Or don’t even think about me signing that marriage license.” Her words felt like a thousand icy needles piercing my heart, stealing the air from my lungs. In her world, my health, my well-being, meant less than a smirk on Leo’s face. Leo shot me a triumphant glance, then put on a mask of remorse. “Bella, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to ruin your wedding. I just… I had no idea Mr. Cross was so sensitive.” He raised a hand dramatically. “Mr. Cross, I’m so sorry. If you’re still not satisfied, I’ll slap myself!” He actually made to do it, but Isabella caught his wrist just before the blow landed, her eyes filled with pain, for him. “What are you doing? It’s not your fault! If anyone should be slapping themselves, it’s not you!” She turned her gaze to me, her expression hardening from tender to vicious. “You’re going to slap yourself, right now, as an apology to Leo.” Fighting the allergic reaction crawling up my skin, I stared at her, my eyes bloodshot. “Isabella, have you forgotten? I almost ended up in the ICU saving you from a rabid dog once! And now, at our wedding, you let your assistant humiliate me with one. Doesn’t your conscience ache at all?” For a fleeting moment, a flicker of hesitation crossed her face. Leo saw it too and immediately doubled down on his performance. “My chest… oh god, it hurts so much! I can’t breathe! Bella, am I dying?” That was all it took. Her momentary doubt vanished, replaced by cold fury. “I know you’ve always been jealous of Leo, Bronson. That’s why you hit him so hard. But why did you have to make a scene at our wedding? Were you trying to humiliate me?” “Now, get on your knees and apologize to him!” I let out a short, cold laugh. Then, I strode over to Leo and slapped him across the face, hard. “Is that sincere enough for you?” “Bronson! You’re dead!” The next thing I knew, four security guards tackled me, forcing me to the ground. There, in front of everyone, I was made to kneel like a dog before Leo. He took a bottle of champagne and leisurely poured the entire thing over my head. Isabella didn’t stop him. Instead, she took the empty bottle and smashed it against my skull. Sharp, blinding pain exploded through me. Her voice, cold as ice, whispered in my ear. “The wedding is off. When you’re ready to kneel before Leo like the dog you are and beg for his forgiveness, we’ll talk about getting married again.” With that, she took Leo’s arm and turned to leave. My eyes burned into their retreating backs. “Isabella,” I called out, my voice dangerously calm. “If you care that much about your little assistant, then you don’t deserve to be my wife.” She stopped. Leo’s eyes welled up with fake tears. “Bella, did I cause trouble again? I shouldn’t have come today,” he whimpered. “You should go back and finish the ceremony with Mr. Cross. I’ll be fine on my own.” The performance was pathetic, but it melted Isabella’s heart. She spun around, her eyes filled with disgust for me. “What is this, Bronson? Another one of your pathetic games to get my attention?” she sneered. “Fine! If you don’t think I’m worthy of being your wife, then go marry that husky. She’s a bitch, too!” And with that, she and Leo left without a backward glance. The guests stared, their expressions a mix of pity and scorn. I clenched my fists, swallowing the bitter pill of humiliation. “I apologize to everyone,” I announced to the room. “Today’s wedding is canceled. Please, enjoy the rest of your day.” The moment I closed the door to the dressing room, the world went black. When I woke, the sharp, clean scent of antiseptic filled my nostrils. The hospital room was warm, but it couldn’t thaw the ice that had formed around my heart. I had loved Isabella for ten years. A decade of devotion. Until yesterday, I truly believed I was finally getting my happy ending. But our wedding, that disaster, was the slap in the face I needed to wake up. It was the moment my love for her finally died. I pressed the call button. It wasn’t a nurse who entered, but Isabella. She was still in the sleek evening dress she’d worn for the reception, but her hair was a mess, her lips swollen and bruised, and a series of fresh, angry-red marks dotted her neck. She seemed relieved to see I was conscious, but the relief quickly soured into annoyance. “You don’t look so bad. Leo was right. Just another one of your little pity parties,” she said, crossing her arms. “Honestly, Bronson, for a grown man, you are so incredibly petty. You ruined a perfectly good wedding.” She sighed impatiently. “So, have you learned your lesson? Are you ready to go apologize to Leo?” I just stared at her, my silence a wall. Before, I would have swallowed my pride just to appease her. God knows I’d done it enough times. The time Leo “accidentally” smashed my birthday cake in front of everyone, I had to apologize. The time he deleted the proposal I’d spent sleepless nights perfecting, I had to apologize. Even the time I was in the hospital and he tripped on the steps outside, I had to apologize. Every concession, every retreat, had earned me nothing but her accusation of being “petty.” Six months ago, a fire broke out in the conference room because Leo had carelessly tossed a cigarette butt. As we escaped, a flaming beam started to fall. Isabella shoved me into its path, using my body to shield Leo so he could get out first. He walked away without a scratch. My back was covered in severe burns. While I lay in a hospital bed, groaning in agony, she took Leo on a trip to “calm his nerves.” She only showed up on the day I was discharged, a month later. The first words out of her mouth were: “You embarrassed Leo in that meeting, you know. That’s why he was so upset he had to smoke in the conference room. He’s been having nightmares for a month because of it. Why don’t you go apologize to him? If you do, we can get married. How about that?” For the sake of love, I compromised. Again. But from that moment, the love I had for her began to wither. And at our wedding, when she chose to walk away with him, it vanished completely. Seeing that I wasn’t going to speak, Isabella spat a few more venomous words and stormed out. After the doctor left, I picked up my phone, planning to hire a private nurse. That’s when I saw Leo’s latest post. He’d taken the husky to the new house I’d bought, our marital home. He had filmed it shitting and pissing all over our new bed. In the video, he grinned into the camera. “Heard this is a good cure for your allergy, Mr. Cross. Don’t thank me!” Rage, hot and blinding, surged through me. I called Isabella again and again. Finally, just as my battery was about to die, she picked up. Her voice was impatient. “What? You regret it? Ready to apologize to Leo?” “Apologize to your mother!” I snarled, the profanity slipping out before I could stop it. “Did you take Leo to my house? That’s breaking and entering! Vandalism! I can have you both arrested!” There was a stunned silence, then her voice came back, sharp as a whip. “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to, Bronson? Don’t get cocky with me! You said that house was a gift, so it’s mine! Besides, you hurt Leo. He was just blowing off a little steam. He’s being merciful, so you can stop playing the victim!” She took a breath. “I was actually thinking of giving you another chance, of going to sign the papers. But since you’re so unrepentant, I’ve decided I’ll sign them with Leo instead.” As soon as she finished, I could hear Leo’s excited voice in the background. “Really? Bella, if you say that, I might just take you seriously!” “I am serious. Let’s go right now.” “Wow, so tonight would be our wedding night? In that case, maybe we should take care of the important stuff first, then go get the license. Come here, wife…” The sound that followed was a series of moist, sickening noises. My hand holding the phone trembled. Those two disgusting creatures, doing that in my house. The first thing I would do when I got out of here was sell that place. Just then, another call came through. It was the resort for our honeymoon. “Mr. Cross? Calling to confirm your reservation for the honeymoon suite.” I took a deep breath. “Cancel it,” I said without hesitation. “It’s not needed anymore.” But then, an idea sparked. “Wait,” I said quickly. “Don’t cancel. Postpone it for a week. And one more thing… could you fill the suite with red roses? Thank you.” Three days later, I was discharged. I had already contacted a real estate agent and was heading to the house to pack up a few things. I pushed the door open to find Leo, wrapped in a towel, stepping out of the master bathroom. His bare torso was a roadmap of fresh scratches and love bites. He jumped when he saw me, but his shock quickly morphed into a smug grin. Before I could say a word, Isabella emerged from the same bathroom, also wrapped in a towel. “Leo, you were incredible just now, I…” Her words died in her throat when she saw me. “You’re back,” she said, her tone stiff. When she saw my cold stare, she launched into a ridiculously transparent lie. “The pipes were broken. Leo came over to help me fix them. He got his clothes wet, so I let him take a shower.” Leo smirked at me. “That’s right. Just fixing the pipes. There was so much water, it sprayed all over me.” My fists clenched. I wanted to lunge at him. Isabella moved fast, stepping between us and grabbing a baseball bat from the corner. “Are you crazy, Bronson? Just out of the hospital and you’re already starting trouble?” she warned, pointing the bat at me. “I haven’t even dealt with you for what happened before! If you so much as touch a hair on his head, I promise you’ll be right back in that hospital bed.” The scene felt sickeningly familiar. Ten years ago, she had defended me just as fiercely, throwing herself in front of me. That was what made me fall for her so completely. Ten years later, she was protecting someone else from me. In that moment, I just felt… tired. It was all so meaningless. “This is my house,” I said, my voice flat. “I want you both out. Now.” Without another glance at them, I walked into the master bedroom. The husky-soiled sheets were gone, replaced. But so was our wedding portrait that had hung above the bed. In its place were dozens of photos of her and Leo, some so explicit they made my stomach turn. The floor by the bed was littered with more than a dozen used condoms. Isabella followed me in. Seeing me stare at the photos, she looked momentarily flustered. After a few awkward coughs, she softened her voice. “I just… I Photoshopped those to punish you. They’re not real.” She tried a conciliatory tone. “Look, if you admit you were wrong and promise it won’t happen again, I’ll put our wedding photo back up.” I looked at her face, still beautiful, but it no longer stirred anything in me. “Don’t bother,” I said coolly. “If it was taken down, it must be trash. Just throw it away.” She opened her mouth to argue, but just then, Leo walked in holding a bowl of a thick, creamy substance. “Mr. Cross, what Bella said on the phone about marrying me… she was just saying that to make you jealous. Don’t take it the wrong way,” he said with a syrupy smile. “To show there are no hard feelings, I made you some peanut butter porridge. Here, try some.” He held the bowl out to me. When I didn’t take it, Isabella’s voice turned sharp. “Leo was kind enough to make that for you and bring it to you personally. Who do you think you are, putting on that face?” Leo feigned sadness. “I guess Mr. Cross doesn’t want to make peace with me.” I let out a small laugh and took the bowl from him. Isabella nodded, satisfied. “That’s more like it.” A rare smile touched her lips. “Since you’re being so reasonable, I’ve decided we can have the wedding again this weekend.” She paused. “But, there’s one condition. I want Leo to stand in for you during the first part of the ceremony.” Without a second of hesitation, I nodded. “Okay.” This time, it was Isabella who was stunned. After a moment, she asked, her voice laced with suspicion, “You… you just agreed? Just like that? You’ve always hated it when I get too close to Leo.” My voice was placid. “I agreed because it’s what you want.” For the first time in a long time, she gave me a genuine smile. Leo clapped me on the shoulder. “Finally, Mr. Cross understands Bella! Don’t you worry, I’ll make sure this wedding goes off without a hitch!” He winked. “Oh, and I have a very special wedding gift for you.” Meeting his smug gaze, I tilted the bowl in my hand, pouring the peanut porridge into the trash can beside me. I looked back at him, a slow smile spreading across my face. “I’ll have a surprise for you both as well. You won’t want to miss it.”

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Everyone in the city thinks I’m a good-for-nothing playboy, but I secretly earned a dual doctorate in medicine and finance years ago. My grandfather named me his sole heir, but to throw off our rivals, he adopted Chloe Vance and let the world believe she was being groomed for the top spot. Everyone assumed she would marry me and inherit the Thorne fortune. But after twenty years of growing up together, she remained cold, distant. I told myself she was just reserved by nature. Then she started championing a scholarship kid, Brook Miller, time and time again, even publicly declaring, “Anyone who bullies Brook today will pay a hundred times over when I take over Thorne Industries.” Someone in the crowd had the nerve to ask, “What about Steve Thorne?” She paused, then spoke as if granting a charity. “My heart belongs to Brook. Thorne can have the fortune, but he’ll never have my love.” I calmly switched off the video and dialed my grandfather’s number. “Grandfather, I’ve decided on the marriage alliance. I’m choosing the Beaumont family. We can’t afford to lose the northern markets.” His voice was even. “But Celeste Beaumont is cursed. Ruin to her parents, ruin to her husband, ruin to her children. She’s destined to be a lone star. Are you sure about this, Steve?” 1 I traced the face of my watch, a piece worth millions. “Hasn’t every great man who reached the summit been alone?” I said. “I don’t believe in fate. The only thing real is the power you can hold in your hand.” A note of appreciation entered his voice. “Good. Spoken like a true Thorne.” “By the way,” he added, “that Vance girl has been getting a little too ambitious lately. Put her in her place. If she still doesn’t learn, it’s time to send her away.” I lowered my eyes. “Understood.” When Chloe was sixteen, her family went bankrupt. Grandfather took her in, and the world assumed he was training his successor. My own father was a notorious womanizer who had only managed to produce one useless son—me. It was a convenient fiction. Grandfather deliberately spread the rumors of my incompetence, letting me observe the vultures and sharks of the business world from the shadows before I took them all down. But over time, Chloe started to believe the fiction herself. She began to think she was the true master of the Thorne estate. She forgot her name was Vance, not Thorne. Still, I would grant her one last kindness, a final shred of warmth for the boy I used to be. When I opened the library door, Chloe’s face was a thundercloud. “These little games of yours just make you more disgusting to me,” she spat. “I’ve been managing that project for three months. It’s in the final stages. Do you have any idea how much profit you’ve jeopardized with your stunt?” She bit her lip, her voice laced with contempt. “Why are you so damn childish? You’re nothing like…” I knew what she left unsaid. Nothing like Brook. A faint smile played on my lips. “Chloe, if you don’t like it, you’re free to leave the Thorne estate. No one is stopping you.” Fury blazed in her eyes, her hands clenched into tight fists. “Steve Thorne, you’re nothing but a spoiled brat who only knows how to cause trouble from your ivory tower. You look at me like I’m a dog you own. You don’t understand anything…” I turned away, a wave of pity washing over me. What didn’t I understand? Her father had died from a rare, chronic disease. Her life’s dream was to conquer it. What she didn’t know was that the disease was hereditary. Three years ago, while pursuing my medical doctorate, I spent an entire year of sleepless nights developing a growth factor that could inhibit the disease’s progression. And it was during that hellish year, when I was completely buried in my work, that she fell for the scholarship kid, Brook Miller. Love. It really was as fragile and pathetic as a joke. “Chloe, are you alright?” Brook gently took her wrist, his face a mask of concern. I shot him a sidelong glance, and Chloe instinctively moved to shield him. “Brook is just my assistant. Don’t you dare lay a hand on him.” Brook’s eyes reddened. “I-I’m sorry, Mr. Thorne. I was just so worried about Ms. Vance.” My voice was ice. “Is the Thorne estate some kind of monster’s den? What exactly is there to be so worried about?” Brook flinched. “No… I misspoke. If you’re angry, Mr. Thorne, just hit me.” At his words, I raised my hand. Chloe immediately threw herself in front of him. “Steve, that’s enough! Why do you get so much pleasure from bullying the weak?” I suppressed the bitter taste in my mouth and let out a sharp laugh. “Still the righteous hero, aren’t you, Chloe? After all these years.” 2 Her lips parted, then closed. Her face was pale, but she offered no defense. Just as she had saved me when we were kidnapped as children, she was now saving the poor, timid Brook Miller. Chloe only ever wanted to be the hero, protecting one “weak” soul after another. That’s why, when Brook’s scholarship was cut because he failed to meet the academic requirements, she blamed me for being stingy. When Brook, knowing full well I was severely allergic, sent a massive bouquet of roses to my office that landed me in the hospital for a week, she called me paranoid and cruel for thinking he’d done it on purpose. And at the charity gala, when he deliberately slipped the ring she’d given him into my suit pocket, only to look shocked and helpless when she walked over, she grabbed my wrist so tightly her nails dug into my skin. “Have you no shame, Steve?” she’d hissed. “Do you think stealing the gift I gave Brook will change anything? It was a symbol of my feelings for him. You can take everything, but I will never, ever love you.” Brook just shook his head, his face a picture of terror. “Ms. Vance, it was me! I gave the ring to Mr. Thorne. He had nothing to do with it!” Back then, I was still foolish enough to believe she was just being blinded by him. Still stupidly in love. I forced myself to remain calm. “Let’s check the security footage.” When the video played, showing Brook furtively slipping the ring into my pocket, he clutched his jacket, stammering nonsensically. “I-I’ve just never seen such a fine suit before… I couldn’t help but touch it, and the ring must have fallen in. Ms. Vance, I swear, I didn’t mean it! I really need this job…” His explanation was illogical, full of holes. But Chloe’s expression softened. She looked at me. “It was just a misunderstanding, Steve. Let’s just drop it.” She used my first name so intimately, yet a chill spread through my heart. The last time she’d called me that was on the night we escaped our kidnappers. She’d thrown herself in front of me, taking a stray bullet meant for me, her voice desperate as she screamed, “Steve, run!” The softest part of my heart, the part I had reserved only for her, was torn to shreds in that moment. Chloe, who had always disdained manipulation, had abandoned her principles for Brook. And with that, she shattered the last lingering piece of my affection. From that day on, Brook was always by her side. After all these years, Chloe couldn’t remember my allergies, but she had every clivia lily, a flower Brook disliked, removed from the corporate offices. She never celebrated holidays, but she spent Valentine’s Day watching fireworks with him over the harbor. And the French-style manor Grandfather had built for me at a cost of a billion dollars—our future home—she took Brook there first. When I arrived at the manor with my security detail, I found Brook placing a crown of roses on her head. My voice was glacial. “Chloe, this manor was a wedding gift to me from my grandfather.” She had dared to rip out my favorite white willows and plant the grounds with roses, the one flower I despised. At the sound of my voice, Brook quickly snatched the crown off her head and dropped to his knees, banging his head on the stone path. “I’m sorry, Mr. Thorne! It’s my fault! Please, punish me!” After a few frantic bows, his forehead was already bleeding. Chloe rushed to help him up, her voice sharp with anger. “Steve, you’ve had everything you could ever want your whole life! Why must you torment Brook over something so trivial? It’s not a big deal! We’ll plant the willows again before the wedding.” She looked at me with an expression of weary obligation. “You’re marrying me anyway. Do these things really matter?” Her forced resignation was almost comical. She seemed to think I was utterly devoted to her, that even though I was the rightful heir to the Thorne fortune, even though countless powerful families were desperate to marry their daughters into our dynasty, I would simply wait for her forever. I couldn’t help but sneer. “Chloe, what makes you so sure I’m going to marry you?” 3 The air hung thick and still for a moment before Chloe laughed, a scornful, biting sound. “Don’t you sound ridiculous, Steve? Who else would you marry? The Thorne empire is tied to you. Do you really think Grandfather would let you marry some nameless nobody?” I was about to tell her I had already chosen my bride when she cut me off impatiently. “Stop being so difficult. At Grandfather’s birthday gala, I’ll tell him we’re ready to set the date. Will that satisfy you?” A flash of jealous hatred crossed Brook’s face, quickly masked by a sigh. “Mr. Thorne is so lucky. To marry a woman as wonderful as Ms. Vance… I wonder if I’ll ever be so fortunate.” Seeing his downcast expression, Chloe’s eyes softened with pity. “The Thorne family saved me,” she said, her voice meant for him alone. “I have a duty to protect their legacy.” She paused, her gaze filled with meaning. “But I know that gratitude isn’t love…” Brook’s eyes filled with a look of profound, romantic understanding. I had lost all patience. “Are you two finished?” Chloe’s expression turned cold and merciless. “No.” She stared directly at me. “Steve, even if I marry you, the one in my heart will always be Brook. You will be nothing more than a figurehead. And don’t you ever let me see you hurt him again.” Brook wrapped his arms around her. “Mr. Thorne,” he pleaded, “just let us be happy.” The last bit of warmth in me died. Did she really think I couldn’t live without her? It seemed that last shred of decency was no longer necessary. “From this moment on,” I said, my voice cutting through the air, “these two are banned from this estate.” Chloe drew a sharp breath, her voice turning venomous. “Fine, Steve. Just don’t you regret this.” Watching her walk away hand-in-hand with Brook, I let out a self-mocking laugh. Regret? For her, I had rebelled against my destiny countless times. A scion of a financial dynasty, I insisted on studying medicine, earning ten lashes from my grandfather’s cane and biting my tongue so I wouldn’t scream that I didn’t regret it. I went to war with a mob boss to win back her family’s heirloom, taking a bullet that missed my heart by less than an inch. I didn’t regret that either. Now, for the first time, I had finally made the right choice. What was there to regret? It takes a lifetime to love someone, but only a moment to let them go. Back at the Thorne residence, the butler bowed his head. “Young Master, your wedding suit has arrived. It is ready for a fitting.” The suit, a masterpiece of design and tailoring, drew gasps of admiration from the nearby staff. “It’s a work of art. A bespoke creation. Young Master, you will be the happiest groom in that.” I twisted my lips into a smile. Since when were value and happiness connected? But at least value, unlike people, would never betray you. When I put on the jacket, however, the buttons wouldn’t close. The designer frowned, pulling up his tablet. “Strange. We followed the measurements sent by the Thorne household precisely. They were only from a month ago; there shouldn’t be such a discrepancy.” My expression didn’t change as I took the tablet from him. The string of numbers was unfamiliar. They didn’t match any measurements I’d ever had. Chloe had been in charge of the suit. It was obvious whose measurements these were. As if on cue, Chloe rushed in. Her eyes darted around nervously, but her voice was defiant. “I must have given them the wrong numbers. Just have them alter it.” She knew this designer’s schedule was packed; he was only in the country for a month as a personal favor to my grandfather. There was only time for minor adjustments, not a complete re-tailoring. She knew how much this wedding meant to me, how I wanted every detail to be perfect. But she did it anyway, just to see a smile on Brook’s face. I calmly took off the jacket. “Thank you for your hard work, Maestro Karl. My best wishes to your next client.” The designer’s initial irritation melted into a look of sympathy. “Steve. I wish you happiness as well.” Chloe took a step forward, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “Steve, a suit from any other designer will be just as good. It’s not like I’ll look down on you for it.” A sarcastic smile curled my lip. The wedding venue was a compromise. The suit was a compromise. With her, my life was destined to be an endless series of compromises. But for Brook, she gave only the best. As she wished, I would marry Celeste Beaumont. There would be no more compromises for me. And she would finally have her heart’s desire. 4 Having severed all ties, I stopped contacting Chloe. But she came looking for me. She held out a single branch of white willow. It was her old way of apologizing. She would bring me something I loved, and I, besotted, would forgive her. But I no longer cared. So I didn’t take it. The frown on her face deepened. “Brook was worried you wouldn’t take things well, so he bought this for you. It cost him half a month’s salary.” I ignored her, rising to pick up my teacup. “It’s cheap.” Her face darkened. “Is money all you know, Steve? You’re disgusting.” As she stormed away, I smiled. The tea she’d been drinking, a rare Snow Mountain Emerald, was worth a hundred thousand a gram, and was nearly impossible to buy. The custom silk trench coat she wore, a delicate piece worth over three hundred thousand, was something she’d casually used to shield Brook from the sun. For the first time, I wondered: had I given her too much? The things others fought and bled for, she had received so easily. She had never learned to value anything. The gala was held on the MSC mega-yacht. Grandfather had announced that he would be revealing the news of my wedding, so everyone who mattered was in attendance. Chloe arrived with Brook at her side. The sharks of high society exchanged knowing glances. Everyone had assumed she would be marrying me; bringing this man was a slap in the face to the Thorne family. But there were always fools eager to curry favor. “Ms. Vance, you’re truly a pillar of Thorne Industries. So young and so accomplished.” Chloe’s expression soured. I chuckled to myself. She saw herself as the future queen, not a mere pillar. Besides, she had never been allowed anywhere near the core operations of the company. On paper, Grandfather was in charge. In reality, I had held the reins for years. Brook approached me, head bowed, to offer a toast. I stared calmly at his duplicitous face. “You’re not worthy to offer me a toast.” He moved closer, his voice a low, vicious hiss. “So what if you’re the Young Master? Her heart belongs to me.” Then, pretending to trip, he grabbed my lapel. We both tumbled backward into a towering pyramid of champagne glasses. Shards of glass bit into my skin as amber liquid soaked my pure white suit. SMACK. Chloe rushed forward and slapped me across the face. A perfect red handprint bloomed on my cheek. “Steve, I warned you. Don’t you touch Brook.” Brook was already on the floor, groaning as if he’d been grievously wounded. The fury in Chloe’s eyes intensified. Her hands closed around my throat. “Apologize.” Security finally reacted, pulling her off me. I coughed, gasping for air. The guests were whispering. “It’s over between them. Is he still going to announce the wedding?” “Looks like Chloe’s inheritance is a sure thing. Who else would dare to assault the heir in public?” Suppressing my rage, I climbed out of the wreckage and walked onto the stage. “Today, I have three announcements to make.” “First, my engagement to Ms. Chloe Vance is hereby terminated.” “Second, I will be formally taking over as CEO of Thorne Industries, and my first act is to fire Ms. Vance.” “Third, I am engaged to Ms. Celeste Beaumont. We will be married next month.”

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It began with an apple pie I baked, which sent Serena’s daughter to the ER. My husband, Alistair Vance, summoned us to the hospital. In the hallway, his men forced my head toward the pie, now a mess on the floor. “Eat this filth,” he commanded, “and I might forgive you.” I refused. Calmly, Alistair then fed a shrimp to our three-year-old daughter, Annie, who is deathly allergic. She eagerly swallowed it. Her reaction was immediate and violent—welts, swelling, convulsions. Anaphylactic shock. I begged him to call a doctor, but he let her collapse to the floor in disgust. “Now you know how Serena felt,” he hissed. “Save her by eating.” That night, I got on my knees and licked the filth like a dog while Annie fought for her life in surgery. After two weeks alone outside the ICU, I left with nothing but my recovering daughter. “Serena can have her title back,” I vowed. “And she can have Alistair, too.” 1 “Thirty million dollars to buy out my marriage to Alistair. After that, your daughter and her love child can waltz into the Vance family, no questions asked. It’s a good deal, don’t you think?” I stood by the hospital window, watching the happy little family of three on the lawn below, my voice devoid of emotion. The woman across from me flinched, her hand jerking as she wrote the check, accidentally adding another zero. I took the check from her hand, a sliver of the darkness in my soul receding. Three hundred million dollars. It wasn’t just buying out a failed marriage; it was severing the twisted, poisonous bond of blood between me and the Reed family. My mother—our mother—shot me a disdainful look, clearly disgusted by my greed. “Your father and I never deprived you of anything, yet you’ve always been so… unrefined. It’s no wonder Serena is so much more beloved. And Chloe is not a love child. She is Serena’s daughter, a treasure of the Reed family.” A bitter, mocking smile touched my lips. I ignored her, picked up my daughter, and turned to leave. “Alistair has me blocked, so I can’t reach him directly. But by the family gala this Saturday, at the latest, he will have signed the divorce papers.” A chill ran down my spine as I stepped out of the hospital. My phone buzzed. A new post from Serena. “Love is the reward for the brave. Three years ago, I wasn’t brave enough and let you go to someone else. Thank god I found my courage three years later, and you were still waiting for me.” The accompanying photo was of her, her daughter, and Alistair, their faces pressed close together in a happy selfie. Annie stirred in my arms, her voice weak. “Mommy, why do Auntie and Chloe get to take pretty pictures with Daddy? Daddy said he hates pictures.” Her sad little question was a dull ache in my chest. In her entire life, Annie had never had a single photo taken with her father. Because Alistair didn’t like it. In fact, he despised it. I scrolled through Serena’s feed. Post after post, filled with smiling photos of the three of them. Every caption was a declaration of their perfect happiness. She had even tagged me in this latest one, just to make sure I’d see it. I locked my phone and stroked my daughter’s hair. “Maybe… maybe it’s because Daddy loves them, sweetheart.” Alistair loved Serena. He had loved her since they were children. I was the intruder, the obstacle they could never quite overcome. I had been his wife for three years, a perfect, devoted homemaker, and his heart had remained a fortress. “So… Daddy doesn’t take pictures with us because he doesn’t love me and Mommy?” My mouth opened, but the words wouldn’t come. How could I tell my child the simple, brutal truth? An unknown number flashed on my screen. I answered. Alistair’s voice, cold and commanding, cut through the line. “I’m sending you an address. Go there and pick up the gown Serena needs for tonight.” “No.” A flicker of annoyance. “Elara, you don’t have the right to refuse.” My heart sank. My eyes fell on the faint scar peeking out from under Annie’s collar, a permanent reminder of the emergency intubation. Two weeks ago, Serena had a sudden craving for apple pie. Alistair called and told me to bake one and deliver it to the Reed estate. He failed to mention that Serena’s daughter, Chloe, was allergic to apples. So when Chloe eagerly took the box from me, I simply turned and left. I had no idea that simple act would make me the laughingstock of our entire social circle and nearly cost my daughter her life. In the two weeks Annie was in the hospital, fighting for every breath, Alistair never visited, never even called. He was right. I had usurped Serena’s place. The old me wouldn’t have dared to refuse his command. But the old me was gone. I was about to give her place back. I had seen the gown in Serena’s posts. A custom couture piece Alistair had commissioned for tonight’s event—the annual Reed family gala. It was a major affair, filled with relatives, friends, and business partners. It was also the night my parents planned to officially sign over all their assets to Serena. At three o’clock the next afternoon, I arrived at Alistair’s private penthouse with the gown. His assistant blocked my path, his face a cold mask. “Mr. Vance and Ms. Reed are busy. They are not to be disturbed.” The door was slightly ajar. I could hear Serena’s breathless moans, Alistair’s own excited, guttural whispers of her name. I understood. I was used to it. Ever since Serena returned, this was their new normal. At first, he’d brought her to the house where Annie and I lived. I’d find evidence of their passion everywhere—the bedroom, the kitchen counter, the balcony. After a massive fight, he’d bought this penthouse specifically for their trysts. He spent twenty-five nights a month here. I don’t know how long I stood there before the sounds from inside finally ceased. I shifted my weight, trying to work the feeling back into my numb legs. “Can I go in now?” The assistant frowned, looking torn. From the look on his face, they were probably just taking a short break. I was about to leave the gown and go when Serena herself appeared at the door, calling my name. I turned. Even though I was accustomed to their affair, the sight of the fresh marks on her skin was still a sharp, unavoidable sting. No one knew that for a brief, fleeting time, I had actually loved Alistair. It was during my pregnancy. For those few months, his usual coldness had vanished. He would wrap his arms around me as I read on the sofa and kiss my hair. He would bring me flowers or small, beautifully wrapped gifts on his way home from work. And in the dark of night, he would hold me and whisper, “Elara… from now on, let’s just be happy together.” I had believed him. Then, the day my water broke, Serena, who was living abroad, went into premature labor. Alistair went mad with worry. He and his parents booked the first flight out of the country, leaving me to give birth alone. When he returned, he brought Serena with him. And their… love child. “Elara? You’re coming to the gala tonight, right? I’m sure Mom and Dad have something to give you, too!” Serena linked her arm through mine, her voice sweet. The cloying, metallic scent of sex clung to her. I subtly pulled my arm free. “I’m not going.” “Why not? Are you still mad at me and my parents for what happened back then?” Tears instantly welled in her eyes. Alistair emerged from the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. Seeing Serena’s tears, he shot me a dark look. “What happened back then was your own damn fault, Elara. You have no one to blame but yourself. Tonight is Serena’s night. It’s a family gala. As her sister, as the second daughter of this family, you have no reason not to be there.” There it was again. I took a deep breath, an unnameable bitterness filling my chest. “Alistair, do you have any idea what people in our circle are saying about me?” The video of me, on the floor of a public hospital, licking a vomit-soaked apple pie, had gone viral. “They’re saying I’m no better than a stray dog.” The same people who shared that video would be at the gala tonight. My presence would be nothing more than a sideshow for their amusement. “And Annie,” I added, my voice tight, “she was just discharged today. She’s not fully recovered. I need to be with her.” Alistair faltered, his expression unreadable for a moment. “What they’re saying is out of line, but you brought this on yourself, didn’t you? If you hadn’t deliberately given that pie to Chloe, knowing she was allergic, I never would have come after you. You’ve always been cheap. You drugged your own brother-in-law and crawled into his bed. What are a few words compared to that?” His voice hardened. “And it was just a simple allergic reaction. Does she really need to be in the hospital for so long? You’re making the child soft.” “She is not soft—” He cut me off. “Enough! I’ll arrange for someone to look after Annie. Tonight is important to Serena. I will not allow a single member of the Reed family to be absent.” I was silenced. When we arrived at the Reed estate, Alistair and Serena got out of the car first. Their daughter, Chloe, ran out to greet them in a pale green princess dress. Alistair swept her up into his arms, then took Serena’s hand. They walked ahead, a perfect, happy family. I followed behind them in silence. This was how it was supposed to be. This was how it always should have been. Guests swarmed them, and Alistair and Serena greeted them with easy grace. I tried to shrink into a corner, but it was no use. “Is that her? Elara Reed? The one who stole her own sister’s fiancé? Did you see that video? God, the wife of Alistair Vance, on all fours like an animal in a hospital. Unbelievable.” “And that daughter of hers… lost control of everything. So foul, so disgusting.” “What’s so surprising? If I were Alistair, I’d hate her and that little bastard, too. The Vances are saints for even letting a woman like that into their family.” “That’s not the story I heard. I heard she conveniently ‘forgot’ her birth control to trap him. You think a man as devoted to Serena as Alistair would have married anyone else otherwise? Especially not some scheming social climber.” Their words dragged me back four years, to a night of darkness and confusion, the phantom pain of being torn apart still echoing in my body. Four years ago, my sister Serena was engaged to Alistair Vance, the sole heir to the Vance fortune and her childhood sweetheart. As her only sibling, I was summoned from the rural hellhole I’d been raised in to attend the wedding. But my first night in the Reed mansion was not a peaceful one. I was woken by a bucket of ice water, my eyes meeting a gaze filled with utter loathing. The hours that followed were a blur of my sister’s tears and my parents’ accusations and blows. By morning, Serena had dramatically called off the wedding, pushed the bridal duties onto me, and fled the country. And just like that, the entire trajectory of my life had been violently altered. Serena noticed my pale face and came over, her voice dripping with false concern. Alistair stood behind her, his gaze on me heavy with meaning. He had heard the gossip too. I pushed her hand away and forced myself to walk into the main hall. My father stood in the center of the room, beaming. “From this day forward, I am officially entrusting the entirety of the Reed family enterprise to my daughter, Serena! She is still young, so I trust you all will offer her your guidance and support.” The room erupted in applause. Serena tilted her head back, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. “Thank you, Daddy. I will work hard and do my best to learn.” At the peak of the celebration, the butler announced, “Mrs. Vance, Senior, has arrived with a gift!” Alistair’s mother swept in, her face wreathed in smiles. Alistair opened the gift box she presented: it was filled with gold jewelry and the deed to a private island villa. “Serena, my dear, congratulations! I suppose I’ll have to call you Ms. Reed, the CEO, from now on.” Mrs. Vance took Serena’s hand, cooing over her. Alistair watched them, the love in his eyes overflowing. While they celebrated, the Vance family butler quietly pulled me aside. “The Madam has decided to combine next week’s Vance family dinner with tonight’s gala. She also requests that you return with her to the family estate tonight, so you can pay respects at the ancestral shrine tomorrow morning.” I froze, my hands trembling at my sides. Just then, a loud voice cut through the party chatter. “The Reeds and the Vances have both given Serena such wonderful gifts. What about the second daughter? What’s her gift?” “A gift? They should be grateful she doesn’t cause more trouble!” “Seriously. If I were a Reed, I would have erased her from the family tree after that stunt with her brother-in-law. What a disgrace!” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, fighting the urge to scream the truth. Alistair’s assistant found me and pressed a box into my hands. “Mr. Vance said you are to take this and present it to Ms. Reed.” I opened it. Inside were three handwritten pages. An apology letter. “Mr. Vance said you are to read this. Publicly.” After a long moment, a dry laugh escaped my lips. I nodded. Alistair wanted me to publicly apologize to Serena for what happened four years ago. And he wanted to use the occasion to legitimize Chloe, so she could officially take the Vance name. “Alistair,” I whispered to myself, “why make it so complicated? Soon, everything will be back where it belongs.” Fifteen minutes later, I walked up to Serena, letter in hand. The gossips started whispering. “Look, what is she up to now?” Serena saw me, and her smile widened. “Elara, is that a gift for me?” Clearly, she knew exactly what was in my hand. I gave a self-deprecating smile and, instead of stopping at her, I walked directly to Alistair. “Oh my god, what is she doing? Is she going to ruin another one of her sister’s big moments?” “I bet she is. What is wrong with her? I almost feel bad for Serena.” Alistair watched me, a wary look on his face, and took an involuntary step back. But I stopped a few feet in front of him. No one noticed the extra pages tucked beneath the apology letter. I held out a pen. “This gift is for both you and… my sister. Just sign it. As a keepsake.” He looked at me strangely, but when his eyes fell on the familiar apology letter on top, he relaxed. As he signed, his voice softened. “You should have done this four years ago. Think of this as making up for it.” He paused. “Don’t worry. With the title of Mrs. Vance, no one will dare say too much… I’ll be free for the next few days. After the apology, I’ll take you and Annie away for a trip.” I nodded calmly, my eyes fixed on the signature at the bottom of the last page. Then I turned, walked past Serena, and began to read. “I, Elara Reed, four years ago, shamelessly drugged my own future brother-in-law and raped him. I then disgracefully stole my own sister’s husband and drove her, pregnant, out of the country…” I read the words mechanically, my voice fast and flat, my face a blank mask. When I finished, I stepped down from the platform. I ignored the cacophony of whispers behind me, ignored Alistair’s confused stare, and walked out of the Reed mansion. A maid was waiting outside with my daughter. I took the car keys, made a quick excuse, and drove us straight to the airport. As the plane lifted off the runway, I leaned back in my seat, finally able to breathe. Annie, beside me, was buzzing with excitement. “Mommy, where are we going?” “Somewhere far away,” I said, a real smile touching my lips for the first time in years. Alistair, you can have your Serena. I have my daughter. And we will never, ever see each other again.

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1 The night before our wedding, Isabella, in a fit of rage, hurled my ring into the lake. I spent the entire night dredging the icy water for it, my fingers raw and numb by the time I finally found it. But as I was about to go tell her, I overheard her talking with a friend. “Isabella, honestly, how many times are you going to mess with Ethan?” “Jason’s been gone for three years. Can’t you let him go?” Isabella’s voice was cold as steel. “Jason would still be alive if he hadn’t been begging me for a ride that day. That car crash… it was his fault. He killed Jason. Everything that’s happening to him? He deserves it.” The ring in my hand felt like a shard of ice. My knuckles were white, my blood frozen solid in my veins. She never loved me. All this time, my devotion was just a pawn in her twisted game of revenge. Silently, I tossed the ring into the nearest trash can and dialed my parents. “Mom, Dad… I’ve thought it over. I’ll agree to the family arrangement. Let’s have the wedding in three days.” … My parents’ joyous voices crackled through the phone. “Oh, Ethan, we’re so glad you’ve come to your senses! Isabella is a fine woman, but ten years your senior… people talk. And you remember Sophia Parker, don’t you? She’s your age, and she’s been waiting for you all this time!” “I know,” I said, my voice flat. “Just make the arrangements. I’ll be there in three days.” After hanging up, I leaned against the wall, gasping for air, fighting to regain my composure before walking back into the house. The moment I stepped inside, a splash of red wine hit me square in the face, followed by a sharp scream. I looked up, my eyes meeting Isabella’s as she sat on the sofa. “Ethan, I’m so sorry,” she said, though the smirk playing on her lips told a different story. “Chloe thought you were some kind of creep. It was an accident. You’re not mad, are you?” Her apology was a lie, her delight at my humiliation all too real. To everyone’s shock, I snatched the glass from Chloe’s hand and flung the dregs right back at her. The dark liquid splattered across her face and onto Isabella’s prized white dress. Isabella’s gaze darkened. Her voice was laced with ice. “I already apologized for her, Ethan. Don’t mistake my affection for a blank check to do as you please.” Affection? Her so-called affection was a series of cruel games designed to watch me suffer. Because of her “affection,” she’d abandoned me in the mountains during a trip, leaving me to struggle for three days before I was found, my right leg permanently damaged. Because of her “affection,” when I stood in a downpour all night to bring her medicine, ending up with a severe lung infection, she was nowhere to be found. Even the elaborate proposal I’d planned was ruined when she casually texted that she was “stuck in traffic,” leaving me to wait alone until dawn. Seeing the defiant set of my jaw, Isabella’s brow furrowed. “Fine,” she snapped. “I’ll let it go this time. Where’s the ring, Ethan? You spent all night in that lake. Don’t tell me you couldn’t find it.” “I didn’t,” I lied. It was sitting at the bottom of a garbage can. Before she could press me further, a man who looked like a bodyguard leaned in and whispered something to her. Her mood instantly brightened, and she waved me away dismissively. I turned and limped out of the room, ignoring the stares. Behind me, I heard someone stifle a laugh. Fighting back tears, I quickened my pace. Just a few yards away, I saw Isabella, her arm linked intimately with another man’s. He looked so much like Jason it stole the breath from my lungs—a younger, sharper version, but the resemblance was uncanny. My heart skipped a beat. By the time I realized it, tears were streaming down my face. She loved Jason that much. So much that she’d find a replacement to keep by her side. So much that she’d spend years destroying me for his sake. On the way home, my phone buzzed. It was the hospital. “Mr. Hayes? Ms. Lamont has been injured. You need to come to the hospital right away!” When I arrived, Isabella was lying in bed, her arm in a cast. She gestured to the young man beside her. “Ethan, I was almost attacked on my way back. Aiden here saved me. I’ve decided to hire him as my assistant.” The way they looked at each other, the air crackled with unspoken tension. The old me would have been consumed by jealousy. But now, knowing the truth, I felt nothing. I just nodded. Isabella seemed taken aback by my lack of reaction. It was Aiden who spoke first, offering a polite greeting. I made an excuse and stepped out of the room. The moment the door clicked shut, I heard Chloe’s triumphant laugh. “Isabella, wasn’t that a brilliant idea? Making Aiden your assistant? Now Ethan has no reason to object!” “Just make sure you play up the injury,” Chloe continued. “And Aiden, you take good care of her.” The laughter continued inside, but I couldn’t bear to listen. My chest felt tight as I walked to the restroom. As I was splashing water on my face, a figure blocked my path. I looked up into Aiden’s taunting eyes. “So, you’re the lapdog who’s been clinging to Isabella for three years,” he sneered. “Haven’t you had enough yet?” 2 I didn’t say a word. My indifference only seemed to provoke him more. “You think she cares about your stoic act? I saw you listening at the door. Pathetic.” I’d had enough. I shoved him, not hard, but he stumbled back dramatically, crashing to the floor and crying out in pain, clutching his shoulder. Just then, Isabella appeared in the doorway. “Ethan, why did you push him?” she demanded, her voice sharp. “If you didn’t want him around, you could have just said so! Why do you have to be so two-faced?” I was stunned, but before I could defend myself, Aiden spoke, his voice choked with fake tears. “It’s okay, Ms. Lamont. I just happened to save you, it’s normal for Ethan to be upset. It’s all my fault…” He squeezed out a few tears, his face, so like Jason’s, twisted in a mask of perfect anguish. Isabella’s breath hitched. “Apologize, Ethan,” she commanded. “He saved my life. Are you trying to embarrass me?” Her words were daggers, twisting in my heart. I met her cold, unforgiving gaze, then dropped my head and mumbled an apology. Aiden’s face lit up with a smug, triumphant smile. I took a shaky breath, telling myself to just hold on. Three more days. It was nearly midnight when I got back to the villa. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed, my eyes stinging as I took in the room filled with matching couple’s items. The toothbrushes, the mugs, the watches, the coats—every single one chosen by me. My gaze fell on a framed photo of us on the nightstand, and I was thrown back to the day we met. After graduating from college, I’d moved to Crestview to start my own business. I was struggling, on the verge of bankruptcy, when Isabella swept in. She saved my company, guided me through treacherous business dinners and industry events. I fell for her, hard. After she and Jason broke up, I confessed my feelings, and we grew closer. I thought I’d finally found love. I let myself sink into the beautiful dream she wove around me, never realizing it was all a lie. It was never about love. It was about revenge, about watching me, the fool, dance on her strings. The next morning, I woke to the sound of voices downstairs. As I opened my bedroom door, Isabella stopped mid-sentence. “Ethan,” she said, a hint of guilt in her eyes. “Aiden got a few scrapes, and his place is so far out of the way. I told him he could stay here for a while.” Stay for a while? More like forever. Seeing the way she avoided my gaze, I hid the chill in my heart and nodded, my eyes landing on the watch on Aiden’s left wrist. I had an identical one in my nightstand drawer, a gift so precious I’d never even dared to wear it. A bitter, self-mocking laugh rose in my throat. I stepped aside to let him pass, and Isabella’s expression grew complicated. “Ethan, I brought back some congee and dumplings. Go eat something. I’m just going to show Aiden to his room.” As their figures disappeared down the hall, I let out a hollow chuckle and called a junk removal service to come haul away all the “couple’s items.” As the last box was being loaded onto the truck, Isabella rushed out, blocking the workers. “Ethan, what are you doing?” she demanded, her voice rising in anger. “These are our things! Why are you throwing them away?” “I just don’t like them anymore,” I said calmly. “We can buy new ones.” She clearly didn’t believe me and was about to press further when Aiden’s frantic voice called from the balcony. “Ms. Lamont! I’m locked in! Can you come open the door? I’m kind of scared!” Isabella hesitated, shot me a conflicted look, then hurried back inside. I pursed my lips and told the workers to continue. As the truck pulled away, a weight lifted from my shoulders. Soon, this would all be over. 3 I spent the entire afternoon holed up in my room, but the sound of laughter from the living room was impossible to ignore. I glanced down to see Isabella’s smiling profile as Aiden fed her grapes. “Ms. Lamont, your arm is injured. Let me take care of you. It’s my duty to ease your burdens.” “Oh, I have more than just this burden for you to ease,” she purred. “Tonight, you can help me with my bath. Now that would be a real help.” I looked away, swallowing the lump in my throat. Grabbing a few files, I decided to head to the office. As I reached the stairs, Isabella called out to me. “Ethan, Aiden is new to his role as my assistant. As the VP, you need to get him up to speed.” She paused, then added casually, “And that new project you’re managing? Give it to Aiden. It’ll give you a chance to rest.” Her nonchalant tone sent a jolt of ice through me. I remembered the endless nights spent entertaining clients, the nauseating amounts of alcohol I’d consumed just to land that deal. And just like that, she was handing my hard-won success to someone else? My left hand, clenched into a fist, slowly relaxed. I took a deep breath. “Okay.” She seemed surprised by my easy compliance. “It’s just to give Aiden some experience,” she said, her voice softening slightly. “I’ve already booked a table at that Cantonese place you love for tonight.” Without waiting for my reply, she led Aiden away. As he left, he shot me a triumphant smirk over his shoulder. When I got to the restaurant, I realized the lie. The table was laden with food, but not a single dish was one of my favorites. Isabella had even ordered a seafood soup, something she knew I was severely allergic to. Aiden, of course, was eating with gusto. I didn’t touch my chopsticks. When Isabella stepped out to take a call, Aiden’s true colors showed. He deliberately picked up the seafood soup and moved toward me. With a clatter, the bowl fell. Aiden cried out, his eyes welling with tears. At that exact moment, Isabella walked back in. Without a second’s thought, she blamed me. “Why are you being so petty, Ethan?” My lips tightened. “I didn’t do it,” I said, my voice quiet. “He brought the soup over himself. Besides, I’m allergic to seafood. Don’t you remember?” She flinched, clearly having forgotten. But she was too proud to admit it. “Do whatever you want,” she muttered, and stormed out. That night, a torrential rain began to fall. Unsurprisingly, she left me there. By the time I made it back to the villa, drenched and freezing, it was late. Through a half-open door, I heard the unmistakable, intimate sounds of a man and a woman. I froze. The door creaked open, and Aiden appeared, a sly grin on his face. “Well, well. The lapdog is also an eavesdropper. What’s wrong? Jealous that Isabella hasn’t let you touch her in three years?” As he gloated, his bathrobe shifted, revealing a constellation of angry red hickeys across his skin. My body trembled with rage. I turned to leave, but he shoved me. I stumbled, crashing hard against the floor as he shut the door. “Since you love listening so much,” his voice called through the wood, “why don’t you stay all night and hear exactly how I ease Ms. Lamont’s burdens!” I dragged myself up, using the wall for support. The damp, cold air made my bad leg ache with a throbbing pain that made every step agony. It took me twenty minutes to get back to my room. I stared blankly at the ceiling, only then realizing my face was wet with tears. The next morning, I came downstairs with swollen eyes to find the living room empty. A moment later, a video popped up on my phone from an unknown number. It was Isabella, tied up, crying and begging me to save her. An address followed, with a threat: get here fast or she dies. After a moment of hesitation, I drove to the location on the outskirts of the city. The second I stepped into the abandoned factory, a rope tightened around my neck from behind. I was bound and thrown into a burlap sack. I heard the crude laughter of thugs as they used me like a punching bag, kicking me over and over until my body was a canvas of pain. When the smell of smoke filled the air and flames began to lick at the walls, I finally managed to break free. As I crawled out of the inferno, all I felt was a strange sense of release. My phone buzzed again. It was an audio file from Aiden. I could hear Isabella’s voice, crisp and clear. “Make sure the kidnapping looks real this morning. Follow the plan exactly as we discussed.” 4 A bitter laugh escaped my lips. How could I have been so naive? Even knowing her plan was to destroy me, some stupid part of me had still worried for her safety. When I got home, Aiden was dabbing rubbing alcohol on Isabella’s “injuries.” A few faint scratches on her lips. They looked less like the result of a kidnapping and more like a prop for the show she was putting on for me. Seeing my bruised and battered state, Isabella immediately ordered the butler to tend to my wounds. When I refused, she told the maid to make me some soup. “Ethan, those kidnappers were just too clever,” she said, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I never thought they’d use me to lure you there…” Were the kidnappers clever, Isabella, or were you? You know the answer to that. I had no interest in watching her act. I locked myself in my room and checked my flight information for the next morning. My gaze hardened. That afternoon, I went to the city records office and finalized the transfer of my residency. As I got into a taxi, I saw Isabella across the street, laughing in a flashy sports car. Aiden was in the passenger seat, holding a massive bouquet of roses. Heads turned everywhere they went. “Look at them, they’re so perfect together! I have to get a video of this for my feed.” “Seriously, they look so in love. It’s rare to see something so genuine.” Their words echoed in my head as I walked away, a familiar ache spreading through my chest. As I neared the villa, my phone rang. It was Chloe, her voice frantic. “Ethan, Isabella was in a car accident! She needs blood, and the hospital’s supply is low. You’re a match—you have to get here now!” It was just another one of their twisted games. I told her I was busy and hung up. But as I stepped out of the taxi, several of Isabella’s bodyguards surrounded me. “Mr. Hayes,” one said, his tone like ice. “Ms. Miller insisted we bring you. You’re the only one who can save Ms. Lamont.” They flanked me, forcing me into a car. At the hospital, I was pushed straight into a room to have my blood drawn without even seeing Isabella. Feeling dizzy, I went to the restroom to splash some water on my face. As I walked down the hall, I heard voices from a stairwell. It was Chloe and Isabella. “Isabella, he gave 1000ccs. I had them let him go. But what if he figures it out…?” “What’s there to figure out?” Isabella’s voice was sharp. “He loves me so much, he’d never leave. The kidnapping, the blood donation… I never wanted to kill him. This is what he owes Jason. He has to stay by my side for the rest of his life to pay that debt. Oh, and tell the maid to cook him something to replenish his strength. He didn’t look well in that video.” I hid in the darkness of a utility closet, my hand covering the fresh needle mark on my arm. The sting was a sharp reminder of her cruelty. She was an expert at this. Push me to the brink, then offer a sliver of kindness to pull me back into her web. She talked about atonement, about debts. But Jason’s death was from a drunk driving accident. It had nothing to do with me. She was the one who had offered to pick me up for that corporate summit. How did everything become my fault? As I walked out of the hospital, my phone buzzed with two messages from Isabella, both feigning concern. The old me would have replied in a heartbeat. Now, I didn’t have the strength. When I got back to the villa, Aiden was standing outside my room. He was wearing the custom-tailored suit Isabella had given me, proudly adjusting the gemstone brooch that had also been her gift to me. “How does it feel, Ethan?” he smirked. “1000ccs? That was my idea, by the way. And as a reward, Ms. Lamont said all of this is mine now. It would be rude to refuse, wouldn’t it?” He ordered the maids to clear out my room, leaving only a few items he deemed unworthy. Then he swaggered away. I sat on the empty bed until dawn, my tears finally dry. I grabbed my documents, walked out of the villa, and tossed my SIM card into the garden. Isabella, we’re done. I won’t let you hurt me ever again. Meanwhile, Isabella woke up in her office. She checked her phone, but there was still no reply from Ethan. His phone went straight to voicemail. She sent someone to the villa, only to discover the security cameras had been damaged in a storm days ago. A strange anxiety clawed at her. She swept everything off her desk in a fit of frustration and ordered her security team to find him. The unease in her gut was growing stronger by the minute. Just before noon, the head of her security team knocked timidly on her office door, holding a phone with a trembling hand. “Ms. Lamont,” he stammered. “We haven’t found Mr. Hayes yet… but we found this. It’s a wedding livestream. The groom… it’s him.”

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The shriek was swallowed by the roar of the machinery. Stella’s sleeve had snagged, and the lathe was about to drag her in. In a split-second of pure instinct, I grabbed a steel pipe from the rack, ready to jam the gears, to save her. But then, a line of text floated before my eyes. The side character is so impulsive. He deserves to lose a leg. He wrecks the lathe, delaying the production schedule. The perfect scapegoat for the hero’s flawed blueprints. It’s just so unfair to the heroine. She’ll have to marry him out of gratitude and can never be with the man she truly loves. The side character only loses a leg, but the hero misses out on the love of his life. The real tragedy. I froze. The steel pipe slipped from my grasp, clanging against the concrete floor. A bloodcurdling scream tore through the air. I looked up. Stella’s hand was a mangled, bloody mess, caught in the machine’s unforgiving grip. 1 People swarmed the area, their faces pale with shock. My mind finally kicked back into gear. I sprinted to the main panel and slammed the emergency power-off button. As the lathe ground to a halt, Stella collapsed to her knees, her face a mask of agony. Her eyes, blazing with fury, found mine. “Ben,” she gasped, her voice laced with venom. “Why didn’t you save me?” “You were the closest! You had a chance! Why did you just stand there and watch me get hurt?” Her tone was a hammer blow of accusation as if I were the one who had pushed her into the machine. The murmurs of the crowd turned hostile, their eyes on me. “Aren’t you two dating? How could you be so cold-hearted?” “Stella is one of our top technicians! If her hand is ruined, the plant loses one of its best assets.” “What rotten luck, having a boyfriend like you.” “What are you gawking at? Help get her to the hospital!” Through the storm of condemnation, I moved toward her. I saw how her right hand was wedged in the machinery and my stomach turned. Someone reached out to pull her free, but I stopped them. “Don’t touch her!” I yelled. “You’ll make it worse. Her hand will be completely destroyed.” This was a new piece of equipment. Only a handful of the master machinists and I really knew its inner workings. Her hand was caught in a wickedly complex part of the gearing. Brute force would just sever her wrist. I knelt, trying to assess the mechanism, my mind racing through schematics, when a clear, sharp voice cut through the noise. “Ben, stop wasting time!” “She could die if you keep dawdling! You’ve already cost her a hand, do you want her to die, too?” It was Leo, Stella’s ex-boyfriend. His face was sheet-white as he ran over and, ignoring my warning, grabbed Stella’s arm. He tried to yank her hand free. Sweat poured down Stella’s face as a fresh wave of pain washed over her, but Leo didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy crying. “Stella, hang in there,” he sobbed. “My uncle is a surgeon at City General. He’ll fix you, I promise.” Ugh, the hero must be heartbroken seeing the heroine in so much pain. This is all the side character’s fault. It’s just a leg, it’s not like it would kill him. What was he even hesitating for? With a ruined hand, how can the heroine draw the revised schematics for the hero? And how are they going to explain the blueprint mistake to the factory heads? The side character has really screwed things up this time. The floating comments reappeared. It was real. I wasn’t going crazy. My entire life was a story in a book. Stella and Leo were the main characters, the destined lovers. And I was just the disposable side character standing in their way. According to the original script, Leo’s blueprints were flawed. Every part machined using them was defective, a total loss for the plant. We were talking thousands of dollars down the drain. Stella had just discovered the data error when she’d gotten distracted and had her accident. In that version of the story, I would have sacrificed myself to save her. And while I was unconscious, she would have masterfully pinned the entire blame on me. The plant would have demanded I pay for the damaged lathe and the defective parts. But Stella, playing the part of my devoted fiancée, would have stepped in. She’d have cut a deal: I wouldn’t sue the plant for my injury, and they wouldn’t hold me responsible for the damages. Everyone would have praised her for her loyalty, for staying by my side. But in reality, she would have married me only to keep me quiet, to ensure the truth about Leo’s incompetence never came out. 2 In that timeline, I would spend the next decade blacklisted, unable to find decent work in the city, reduced to doing menial crafts at home to survive. The wound on my leg would become infected, my health slowly deteriorating. Stella would pretend to care, telling me I was working too hard. She’d say she’d found us a side hustle, getting me to draw new blueprints she could sell. But she would give my designs to Leo, who would use them to win competitions and build his career. The day Leo stood on stage accepting a prestigious award, I would be abandoned in a run-down nursing home, left to rot. They would be living the good life, the life that should have been mine, while I was still alive. Seeing that future laid bare, my hand, which had been about to stop Leo, froze mid-air. Stella’s injury was already severe. Leo’s panicked yanking made it catastrophic. By the time he finally wrenched her arm free, her wrist was hanging by a thread. Seeing the damage he’d done, Leo wailed even louder. The agony was too much for Stella; her eyes rolled back and she passed out. The plant supervisors had arrived by then, and a car was quickly arranged to rush her to the hospital. I didn’t go with them. Instead, I went straight to the plant manager’s office to report what had happened. I advised him to secure the scene immediately, to prevent any tampering before a proper investigation could determine whether the accident was due to human error or a malfunction. “Most importantly,” I stressed, “preserve the data on the lathe’s console.” An accident this serious was a major incident. The manager took it seriously, but he seemed surprised that the advice was coming from me. He’d probably expected me to be begging for compensation for Stella. He didn’t expect me to be thinking about the plant’s interests. Facing his unspoken question, I said it plainly. “Stella might be my girlfriend, but the company’s interests come first. If this was her mistake, then she needs to be held accountable, injury or not. I trust the plant will be fair to everyone involved.” The manager looked at me with newfound respect. He clapped me on the shoulder, praising my maturity. He even mentioned that the “Employee of the Quarter” award was still up for grabs and told me to keep up the good work. The moment I stepped out of his office, the comments rained down. Wait, what the side character just said sounds really familiar. OMG you’re right. That’s word-for-word what the heroine was supposed to say after he got injured! The heroine is unconscious in a hospital bed, and this guy is already cutting off her escape route. He’s ruthless. This is worst for the hero. If the plant finds out about the flawed blueprints, they’ll make him pay for everything. His parents are under state review; they have no money. He can’t afford to cover those losses. I ignored them. All I cared about was extricating myself from this mess. And from Stella. I had to break up with her. Before I could even head to the hospital, Leo found me. He cornered me, demanding five thousand dollars. “It’s for Stella’s surgery,” he said, his voice urgent. “You need to pay it now. Any delay could be critical.” I stared at him, confused. I had just been with the plant manager when he’d arranged for someone to go to the hospital and cover all of Stella’s medical bills. His exact words were, “Whatever it takes, just get her treated.” I didn’t want a fight. “Leo, calm down,” I said. “The plant is taking care of it. Someone should be there any minute.” But he grabbed my arm, insistent. “Stella told me your parents left you a savings account. At least ten thousand, right? And you won’t even take out half of it to save her hand? What kind of boyfriend are you?” A cold laugh escaped me. “You’re so concerned, why don’t you be her boyfriend? I’ll gladly step aside. We’re not married. I have no legal obligation to pay for her. Why don’t you use your money?” I tried to turn and leave, but he held on tight, his face a mask of self-righteous indignation. “I don’t have that kind of money! You have to pay. If you don’t, she could be crippled for life because of you, Ben! Can you live with that?” He was losing control. I had no patience for his drama. I shoved him hard and ran. A sudden, terrible thought struck me. I sprinted home, my heart pounding. I needed to get my passbook and change the PIN at the bank. But when I tore my room apart, I found it. The passbook was gone. 3 He doesn’t know yet. The heroine already took the passbook and gave it to the hero. The hero is on his way to the bank right now. After all, the side character’s money will eventually be the heroine’s anyway, so it doesn’t matter how much he takes. But what about the PIN? The side character never told her. Please. It’s either his birthday or his mom’s. The heroine figured it out ages ago. The comments added that Stella had already withdrawn a thousand dollars a month ago and given it to Leo. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I didn’t waste another second. I ran for the bank. Halfway there, I saw him. Leo, hurrying along, clutching a small, floral-print cloth pouch. My passbook was in there. I knew it. My first instinct was to tackle him, to snatch it back. But then I reconsidered. I needed to catch him in the act. I wouldn’t let them get away with this. I fell into step behind him, staying out of sight. I followed him into the bank, watched as he walked up to the teller’s window, and waited until he’d entered the PIN. Just as the teller was about to hand over the cash, I shouted. “Thief! Stop him!” I lunged forward and grabbed Leo by the collar. “That’s my passbook!” I yelled to the teller. “He stole it! He’s a thief! Call the police!” Leo’s face turned beet red, a flicker of guilt in his eyes. It was quickly replaced by outrage. “What the hell are you doing?” he sputtered. Bank security swarmed around us. They tried to pull me off Leo, who was desperately trying to grab the money and the passbook from the counter. But the teller, following procedure, held onto both. Trapped, Leo went on the offensive. “Don’t you dare try to frame me, Ben!” he shouted. “You’re the one who let Stella get hurt! I’m just trying to fix your mess, to atone for your cowardice!” “She’s your girlfriend!” he yelled, playing to the crowd. “You’re going to get married! Your money is her money! What’s the big deal?” He was putting on quite a show, making me out to be the bad guy. “I’m not a thief!” he insisted to the security guards. “I’m just trying to get money to save a life!” A guard cut through the drama. “Sir,” he said to Leo, “I just need to know, whose name is on the passbook?” They didn’t care what the money was for. They just needed to establish ownership. Pressed, Leo finally cracked. He ran a hand through his hair, looking cornered. “It’s his,” he mumbled. “But I didn’t steal it! His girlfriend gave it to me.” The guard looked at me. Before he could speak, I cut him off. “I have never given my passbook or my PIN to anyone,” I said, my voice clear and steady. “Please call the police. I want to verify the balance on that account immediately.” I pulled out my ID to prove my identity. Seeing how serious I was, Leo started to panic. “Ben, Stella is lying in a hospital bed waiting for this money! And you’re making a scene? Have you no heart? It’s just a few thousand dollars! You don’t need to get the police involved!” He changed his tactic. “Fine! If you won’t save her, I will! I’ll pay for it myself! But when she wakes up, I’m telling her everything. Let’s see how you explain this to her then!” He pulled another passbook from his bag, a different one. “I was going to use my own,” he claimed. “I must have grabbed yours by mistake.” He insisted Stella had given him my passbook for safekeeping and that he had no idea what the PIN was. His lie fell apart instantly. “Sir,” the teller interjected, “the PIN you entered was correct. I was just about to count out the cash when this gentleman intervened.” I seized the opportunity. “How much was he trying to withdraw?” I asked. “Eight thousand dollars,” the teller replied. 4 I turned to Leo, my voice dripping with disbelief. “You said the surgery was five thousand. What were you planning to do with the extra three thousand, Leo? Keep it for yourself?” He bristled like an angry rooster. “Don’t you dare accuse me of that! I don’t need your money! I was just taking out extra in case there were complications!” His shamelessness was almost impressive. I laughed. “Fine. If you took my passbook by mistake, then let’s see yours. Show us you have eight thousand dollars in your account.” Of course, he refused. “My finances are none of your business!” “And mine are none of yours,” I shot back. “Stella is not my wife. We have no legal ties. What right did she have to give you my passbook? You went to trade school, Leo. You should know what you two have done is illegal. It’s called conspiracy to commit theft.” I watched the fear dawn in his eyes. “And if there’s any money missing from my account,” I added, my voice cold as ice, “you’re both going to prison.” I said nothing more. I just stood there, waiting for the police to arrive. Leo fidgeted, trying to make excuses to leave, but the bank staff watched him like a hawk. He tried to appeal to me, whispering, “I’ll give it back. You don’t have to pay for Stella’s surgery. We’ve been friends for a long time, Ben. Don’t be like this. I promise I won’t tell Stella anything…” Just then, the police officers walked in. I don’t know if he was genuinely terrified or just putting on a show, but Leo’s eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed onto the floor in a dead faint. The officers had to take him to the hospital first. But it didn’t matter. We had witnesses and evidence. He could fake it for a day, but he couldn’t escape justice. The bank staff helped me check my account balance and the transaction history for the last three months. The records confirmed it. Within the last month, two thousand dollars had been withdrawn in two separate transactions. The heroine only took one thousand. Did the hero take another thousand behind her back? Back then, twenty or thirty bucks a month was enough to live comfortably. What does the hero need so much money for? It’s his parents. They’re under state review and need money to bribe officials to get their positions back. They’re always hitting him up for cash. Wait, the plant sent someone with the five thousand dollars for the surgery. The hero intercepted them and said he’d pay. Don’t tell me he took that money and gave it to his parents too. Oh god. If that’s true, he is in deep, deep trouble. A chill ran down my spine. I couldn’t believe Leo’s audacity. He would steal the money meant to save Stella’s life. 5 After waking up at the hospital, Leo denied everything. He stuck to his story that Stella had given him the passbook and he’d grabbed it by mistake, never looking at the name. “I honestly didn’t know it was Ben’s,” he insisted. “I would never have touched it if I knew. Stella and I are just friends. I was just trying to help her out.” To get to the bottom of it, the police had to question Stella. I went with them. As we approached her room, we could hear chaos inside. Because Leo had absconded with the surgery funds, the hospital had delayed her treatment. Originally, there was a fifty percent chance of reattaching her hand. It wouldn’t have been perfect, but it would have been functional. But now, too much time had passed. The only option left was amputation. She had woken up to find a bandaged stump where her right hand used to be. She had completely lost it.

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I was in the middle of reviewing my company’s nine-figure revenue stream when I got the call. They had found my birth parents. They said that if I wanted to be officially welcomed into the Donovan family, I would have to pass their test. I’d have to go through five rounds of written exams and interviews to get a job at their company, prove my worth in an entry-level position, and only then would they consider accepting me. A few days later, I received the interview notification. The HR manager in charge of my assessment was none other than the fake heiress they had accidentally raised as their own. “Luna is the heiress we’ve groomed her whole life,” they’d told me. “She’s currently training in Human Resources. She’s meticulous and sharp, the perfect person to vet you.” “Frankly, she’s a better fit as a Donovan than you are. If she finds any serious flaws in your character or abilities, we’ll have to reconsider acknowledging you at all.” I had to laugh. I instructed my secretary to clear my schedule for the interview. I was dying to see just how “meticulous” the HR department of Donovan Corp—the same company that had been crying and begging for a partnership with me just last week—could possibly be. 01 At the request of Thomas and Laura Donovan, I dressed down, sitting inconspicuously in the interview waiting area of Donovan Corp while my boyfriend, Leo, chattered endlessly in my ear. “Zoe, can you believe our luck? Do you know who the lead HR interviewer is? The Donovan heiress, Luna Donovan!” “I heard she’s been the apple of their eye since she was a child, the guaranteed successor to the Donovan empire. If we can get on her good side, we’re set!” I raised an eyebrow. I had to admit, Luna’s public image was solid. No one seemed to know she was a complete fraud. Leo, annoyed by my lack of reaction, nudged me with his elbow. “You’d better be on your best behavior. I know you have a simple background, but who knows? You might get lucky.” I scoffed internally but said nothing. My boyfriend of four years had become a different person the moment he’d received this interview notice—arrogant, insufferable, already dreaming of his shortcut to the top. My patience was wearing thin. I’d tried to break up with him several times, but his relentless pleading always wore me down. The door to the waiting room swung open. Luna entered, flanked by an entourage, and glided to the microphone. “Good morning, everyone. I am Luna Donovan, the head of this recruitment cycle.” Her voice was soft and sweet. Her eyes scanned the room, and when they landed on me, her chin lifted slightly. Her next words were clearly a veiled jab. “Here at Donovan Corp, we believe in quality over quantity.” “As you know, our compensation is very generous. Many of our new hires start with a salary of around $200,000 a year. However, I don’t want people joining our group who are shortsighted, willing to do anything for a bit of money.” I almost burst out laughing. My own secretary made more than a million a year. Two hundred thousand dollars? That was less than five minutes of my company’s cash flow. Beside me, Leo nodded vigorously. He leaned in and whispered, “See? Miss Donovan is warning people not to get any funny ideas. Just be honest later. Don’t exaggerate anything. I bet she can spot a liar a mile away.” I pursed my lips, speaking just loud enough for those around us to hear. “If her eye for detail is so sharp, why is she wearing last season’s collection? I gave that same dress to my housekeeper last year.” The girl next to me let out a snort of laughter before quickly clapping a hand over her mouth, nodding at me in solidarity. On the stage, Luna, disappointed at not seeing the flustered reaction she’d expected from me, bit her lip. But time was short, so she announced the start of the interviews. “We’ll go in groups of ten. When your name is called, please enter. First group, Zoe He!” I blinked in surprise. Not only was it a group interview, but I was first. It seemed the little heiress wanted to make an example of me in front of everyone. 02 Luna picked up my resume, flicked through it with an air of impatience, and tossed it aside. “Zoe He, is it?” She scanned me from head to toe. When she spoke again, her voice was still sweet, but it dripped with a manipulative innocence. “First question. Looking at your resume, your family background is quite… ordinary.” “Walking into a major corporation like Donovan Corp for the first time, you must be nervous, right? Terrified? Don’t even know where to put your hands and feet, I imagine?” I was genuinely stunned for a second. I never imagined such a brainless, leading question would be her first attempt at an assessment. “I’m… fine?” The question was so utterly unrelated to professional competence that it actually stumped me for a moment. I had to quickly organize my thoughts to respond to her sudden bout of idiocy. “It’s just, uh, the chairs in your company are a bit firm. I guess I’m not used to it.” Luna’s face took on an expression of profound understanding. “Oh, of course. Our chairs are all made of high-quality wood, not the cheap plastic ones you’re probably used to. You’ll have to get accustomed to it.” I rolled my eyes, suddenly missing the $30,000 Italian leather sofa in my office. Seeing my silence, Luna assumed she’d hit a nerve. Suppressing a smile, she continued in a mock-sympathetic tone. “Alright, let me ask you something else. Let’s say—and this is just a hypothetical—someone from your kind of background suddenly gets incredibly lucky and wins five million dollars in the lottery. What would you do with the money?” “Would you quit your job immediately? Start splurging? Buy a luxury car, designer clothes, eat at fancy restaurants, travel the world?” This question earned a few slight frowns from the other interviewers. It was completely irrelevant to the job assessment, but this was clearly Luna’s show, and they couldn’t intervene. My mouth twitched. I was ready to walk out. But then I glanced over and saw Leo through the glass window of the waiting area, frantically waving his hands, signaling for me to answer properly. A reluctant smile played on my lips. Fine. If she wanted to play, I’d play along. Five million? The spare change I donated to a charity fund last month was more than that. “Well,” I said thoughtfully, “I suppose I would probably buy a new car.” After all, I was getting tired of the ones in my garage. It wasn’t exactly a lie. Luna covered her mouth with her hand and let out a theatrical little giggle. “That’s understandable! It’s more money than you could ever dream of seeing in your entire life, after all.” Before I could respond, she launched into her third, even more ridiculous question. “Okay, let’s follow that thought. Let’s say you’re hired as the CEO’s executive assistant, against all odds. On your first day, you need to drive the company’s Rolls-Royce to take me to meet an important client.” “You’ve never driven such a nice car before, so you’re nervous and you get into an accident. The repair costs could be over a million dollars. What do you do? Would you just burst into tears on the spot? Or would you try to sneak away?” She winked playfully. “This is a test of your ability to think on your feet, you know.” Watching her, practically salivating at the thought of my humiliation, I answered with a perfectly straight face. “That would depend on your condition, Ms. Donovan.” “If you were merely injured, I’d call a car to take you to the hospital. If you were seriously injured, I’d call an ambulance immediately. And if, god forbid, you didn’t make it…” I paused for effect. “I’d slam my head on the steering wheel too. Get some of that worker’s comp, you know?” The other candidates in my group erupted in laughter. Luna’s face turned a shade of sickly green. “You—!” Furious that her attempts to fluster me had not only failed but had backfired, she scrambled to regain control. “Someone from your background probably doesn’t even know how to open the door of a Rolls-Royce! It’s easy for you to talk big here!” “You have to understand, as the sole heiress to Donovan Corp, I’ve been surrounded by this level of luxury my entire life. My perspective, my knowledge—it’s in my blood.” Warming to her theme of superiority, she straightened her back, her chin held even higher. “My eighteenth birthday present was a custom sports car. The kind of scenario I just described could never happen to me.” “Unlike some people who think they can just change their status and become a princess overnight. When it really matters, they’re completely useless and just embarrass the company.” I was about to roll my eyes so hard they’d get stuck. Just as I was about to drop the act, the glass door opened again. 03 The newcomers were none other than Thomas and Laura Donovan, my birth parents. They were beaming, their faces plastered with fawning smiles. I was wondering what was going on when I saw who they were ushering in: a tall, impeccably dressed young man with an air of effortless command. I froze. It was Caleb Vance, the heir to the Vance Conglomerate. Luna’s eyes lit up instantly. Her face transformed into a mask of sweet innocence, her voice becoming soft and delicate. “Caleb! What are you doing here?” She instinctively fluffed her hair and tilted her head, affecting a cute, girlish pose. Thomas Donovan chuckled. “Mr. Vance is here to discuss some business and tour the facility. We happened to be passing by and thought we’d check on the interviews.” As he spoke, he gave Luna a pointed look, urging her to seize the opportunity. Laura quickly chimed in. “Yes, Luna is in charge of recruitment this year. She’s always so meticulous and serious about her work. We have complete faith in her.” Luna got the message. She immediately began shuffling papers on her desk, trying to look professional. Caleb’s gaze, however, had sailed right over her from the moment he walked in and landed squarely on me. A smirk he couldn’t quite suppress played on his lips. My stomach dropped. I felt a wave of social death wash over me. Of all the people to see me here, it had to be him. To maintain a low profile, I’d always operated from behind the scenes, letting my VP act as the public face of my company. Caleb was one of the very few outsiders who knew my true identity. After he’d figured it out, we’d become surprisingly good friends. Just last week, he’d found out about my Donovan connection and had mercilessly teased me for finally escaping poverty by building my own empire, only to be dragged back down by my “new” family. He raised an eyebrow, his eyes asking the silent question: What in the world are you doing here? I held up my resume to hide my face, feeling utterly defeated. Don’t ask. My birth parents are having a moment, and I’m here to play doctor. “Mr. Vance, you’re interested in our recruitment process?” Thomas asked, following Caleb’s gaze. He seemed to notice me, his biological daughter, for the first time, and his eyes narrowed. Laura shot me a warning glare, silently telling me not to cause trouble. Caleb tore his eyes away from me and turned back to Thomas, his expression once again cool and distant. “Yes, I happened to walk into something quite interesting. You don’t mind if I sit in, do you, Mr. Donovan?” As he spoke, he shot me a secret wink. I just… I couldn’t. Was it too late to pretend I didn’t know him? Seeing Caleb’s request to stay, Luna was ecstatic. “Of course not!” she chirped. “Caleb, please, have a seat.” She personally brought over a chair, eagerly placing it next to hers before shooting me a triumphant glance. I just wanted the floor to swallow me whole. The interview continued. I thought Luna might tone down the ridiculous questions, but she chose to double down on her foolishness. She cleared her throat. “Zoe He, let’s continue with another hypothetical. If, after this interview, you were hired by Donovan Corp against all odds, but you soon discovered that your abilities were completely inadequate for the job, what would you do?” Caleb, listening from the side, let out a low chuckle, watching me with amusement. Luna, thinking he was impressed by her sharp questioning, became even more animated. “Would you hide in the bathroom and cry every day from your own incompetence?”

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1 Two years after my death, my wife needed me to go to prison for her one true love again. She showed up at my old apartment with a fabricated confession, only to find it empty. Frustrated, she had no choice but to ask the neighbors where I was. But the neighbor just told her: “Him? Oh, he’s long dead.” “I heard he went through hell in prison. Was out for less than two days before he collapsed. They couldn’t save him.” My wife, Nina, refused to believe it. She was convinced it was a trick I’d cooked up with the neighbor to deceive her. She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “So he does a few years in prison and now he’s playing the victim? Please.” “Do me a favor and give him a message,” she sneered. “If I don’t see him in three days, he can forget about me sending another dime for that little brat.” Nina spun on her heel and stomped away, her heels clicking angrily down the hall. The neighbor just shook her head and sighed. “But… that poor child was killed in a hit-and-run a long time ago. The driver’s still out there…” … The metal security door of my old apartment rattled with a series of thunderous bangs. I floated in the air, watching Nina and her precious Ian standing there, her high heels looking sharp enough to punch a hole through the steel. “Leo, you get out here! Don’t think I can’t find you just because you’re ignoring my calls!” she shrieked. “Don’t you understand how urgent this is for Ian? How can you be so heartless? Are you just going to let him rot?” It had been five years since I’d last seen her, not since the day I went to prison. And the first time she finally thinks of me, it’s to ask me to take the fall for her beloved Ian. Again. Ian stood behind her, sunglasses perched casually on the back of his head, the same devil-may-care look on his face. “Nina, maybe he’s not home? Maybe we should just… let it go?” “Impossible! Where else would a con like him have to go? He’s hiding from me, I know it!” she seethed. “Leo! Get out here!” Her teeth were gritted, and she kicked the door with even more violence, the noise finally startling our old neighbor, Mrs. Gable. She opened her door, frowning. “Who are you looking for? Nobody’s lived here for a long time.” Nina shot her a sidelong glance. “I’m looking for Leo. Is he out?” “Leo?” Mrs. Gable’s expression shifted, becoming complicated. “Oh, him… he’s long dead.” I saw Nina’s face freeze for a fraction of a second before the mask of disdain slid back into place. “You can’t be serious. A guy like Leo wouldn’t just…” “This isn’t something to joke about,” Mrs. Gable cut in. “He died two years ago, just a couple of days after he got out of prison. Doctors couldn’t save him. Who are you to him?” “He… how could he…” Nina’s words caught in her throat, the color draining from her face. Ian tugged on her sleeve. “Nina, forget it. If he’s putting out rumors like this, he’s obviously still holding a grudge about that business two years ago. He’s not going to help me. Let’s just go.” That one sentence was all it took to erase any doubt from Nina’s mind. She was instantly certain I was faking my own death just to avoid helping them. Just like that, she sneered. “A grudge? What right does he have to hold a grudge? I gave him more than enough money. He should be grateful.” I floated above them, my very soul trembling with rage. Money? I never saw a cent of that money. It was supposed to be for our daughter, Lily, for her college fund. But two days after I was locked up, the account was wiped clean. If it hadn’t been, Lily wouldn’t have… she would have had the money for the doctors. Ian sighed dramatically. “It’s alright, Nina. If he wants me to go to prison, I’ll go. I’m not afraid of that. I just can’t bear to be separated from you…” Nina’s heart melted instantly. She squeezed his hand. “Ian, don’t worry. I won’t let them take you away from me. I will find him. He has to take the blame for this.” Looking at their sickening display, I wanted nothing more than to lunge down and strangle them both. But I was just a ghost, a transparent whisper. I could do nothing. After comforting Ian, Nina turned back to Mrs. Gable, her tone sharp. “Ma’am, please pass on a message to Leo for me. If I don’t see him in three days, he can forget about me continuing to fund that little brat of his!” Mrs. Gable stared at her, baffled. “But… the child was killed in a hit-and-run a long time ago. The driver’s still at large…” Nina rolled her eyes and stomped her foot. “Right. Keep up the act. He spends a few years in prison and suddenly he’s the star of a tragedy.” She grabbed Ian’s arm and stormed off, muttering, “He’s hiding somewhere. I’ll find him if it’s the last thing I do.” As they left, the agonizing memories came flooding back. Two years ago, Nina had come to me just like this. Ian had killed someone in a drunk driving accident, and she knelt before me, sobbing, begging me to take his place. “Leo, it’s just for three years. It’ll go by so fast…” “This new project is crucial for Ian’s career, he can’t have a criminal record! Please, just help him this one last time, please?” “I’ll give you money, I promise. And I’ll take care of everything for Lily. I’ll send her to the best schools!” “Please, Leo… I’m begging you…” Looking at her tear-streaked face, and thinking of our daughter, I agreed. I still loved her. I was stupid enough to think this grand sacrifice might somehow save our marriage. But prison was a living hell. It was like the other inmates were following orders. During rec time, they would corner me in gangs. They stole my food, poured water on my bunk, sharpened toothbrushes into shivs and stabbed me in the thigh. I was constantly hungry, constantly bruised. The guards looked the other way, sometimes even throwing me in solitary for no reason. Three years. For three whole years, I endured it like a dog, my only hope the thought of seeing my daughter, Lily, when I got out. But on the day of my release, the only thing waiting for me was the news of her death. She had been crossing the street when a car ran a red light and sent her flying. Because there was no money to pay the medical bills, she had missed the critical window for treatment. I found out later that the bank account was empty. The money had been withdrawn just days after I was incarcerated. And Lily had never gone to any “best school.” Nina hadn’t looked after her at all. I knelt in the hospital morgue, staring at Lily’s pale little face, and a mouthful of blood rose in my throat. The next day, my heart stopped beating. “Daddy…” I spun around. The translucent spirit of my daughter stood behind me. She tilted her head, her big eyes filled with confusion. “Why did Mommy call me a brat? Am I not your and Mommy’s little girl?” I knelt to hug her, but my arms passed right through her ethereal form. “Of course you are, Lily. You’re Mommy and Daddy’s precious girl…” “Then why doesn’t Mommy want us anymore?” Lily’s voice cracked, on the verge of tears. “I miss Mommy so much…” I looked in the direction Nina had gone, a bottomless well of hatred churning in my soul. She had not only destroyed me, but she also felt nothing for the death of our child. She couldn’t even bring herself to believe Lily was ours, calling her a brat from beginning to end. Suddenly, I felt my spiritual form grow heavy. A formless force was pulling me, tethering me to Nina’s car. It seemed my soul was bound to this heartless woman. Nina was driving, a phone pressed to her ear. “Find Leo. I want him found, dead or alive.” Ian asked worriedly, “Nina, what if he’s really dead?” “Impossible,” she snapped. “He was so reluctant to do a few years in prison. He’s too much of a coward to die. Besides,” she added confidently, “we still have Lily. He wouldn’t dare disobey me.” I floated in the back seat, looking at Nina’s perfect profile, and I wanted to laugh. Yes, in her eyes, a person like me didn’t even have the right to die. Lily had somehow followed me. She rested her head on my lap. “Daddy, does Mommy not like me?” My eyes stung. I forced a smile. “No, sweetie. Mommy is just… busy.” “She’s so busy… I waited for her every day. But she never even called me…” I turned away, unable to let my daughter see the twisted agony on my face. Did you hear that, Nina? Our daughter waited for you until the day she died. The car stopped in front of a high-end restaurant. Nina linked her arm through Ian’s and walked in, a sweet smile on her face, as if the earlier drama had never happened. I followed them, watching as Ian pulled out her chair, watching as she blushed at his attention. “Nina, thank you so much for this,” Ian said. “If it wasn’t for you, I don’t know what I would have done.” Nina took his hand gently. “Don’t thank me. I would do anything for you.” The scene was a knife in my heart, and yet, it was so familiar. Years ago, I had pursued her just like that. She was a young woman with a ponytail, running frantically through a business park. I reached out to steady her as she nearly fell, but my coffee spilled all over her, soaking the investment proposal she had spent two weeks preparing. On a whim, I handed her my own proposal. “Take it. I wasn’t going to pitch today anyway.” She stared at me, raindrops clinging to her eyelashes. In that moment, I knew I was lost. I pursued her for eight months. I knew she still had a place in her heart for her college sweetheart, the one she’d been forced to break up with. I knew his name was Ian. I knew his family disapproved of her and had sent him abroad. But I figured that had nothing to do with my feelings for her. So I began my clumsy but earnest pursuit. I brought her breakfast every day, stayed with her at the office until the early hours, remembered every one of her cycles. But every time she got drunk, she would just cry and ask me, over and over, “Ian is coming back, isn’t he?” Then came the stormy night. She had a fever of 104. I carried her, delirious, to the hospital. When she woke up, she looked at my unshaven face and said, “Leo, let’s give it a try.” Everything after that seemed to fall into place. The first year of our marriage was the happiest time of my life. Our small company started to take off, and Nina got pregnant. She would rub her belly and say, “Leo, we’re going to be parents.” I’d spin her around in joy. We were so happy. When Lily was born, I thought we would be together forever. But it all shattered the day Ian came back. It was a Wednesday. I’ll never forget it. When Nina got the call, she knocked over her glass of milk, her lips trembling as she whispered, “Ian’s back.” The days that followed were a blur. She started “working late” frequently, coming home with the scent of an unfamiliar men’s cologne. Ian aggressively inserted himself back into our lives, slowly chipping away at my place in her heart. She was seven months pregnant at the time. But all she could think about was Ian. After Lily was born, she didn’t even look at her, wanting to send her straight to an orphanage. She didn’t want our daughter, but she didn’t want the stigma of abandoning her either, so she told everyone the baby had died. Over time, she started to believe it herself. I secretly intercepted the person she’d hired and brought our daughter home, hiring a nanny to care for her. I always held out hope that one day, she would go back to being the woman who had loved me. Then I would tell her our daughter was alive, that I had raised her well. But not only did her love never return, Lily was branded with a name she didn’t deserve. One day, I came home early and found Nina and Ian sitting together, a stack of photos on the coffee table. “So, this is your ‘client dinner,’ Leo? This is your ‘work’?” she shrieked, flinging the photos at my face. “Cheating on me is one thing, but having a child behind my back? Have you no shame?” Every photo was a meticulous fabrication by Ian. A normal business lunch with a female client was doctored to look illicit. A visit from my own cousin was labeled a “secret rendezvous.” There were even pictures of me taking Lily to the amusement park, twisted into proof of my “illegitimate child” with another woman. I tried to explain, over and over, but she wouldn’t listen. In her mind, only what Ian said was true. “Daddy, are you crying…?” I was lost in the past when Lily’s small voice brought me back. I shook my head. How can a soul cry? But this feeling, of being slowly flayed alive, was worse than death itself. It was a pain so deep, I had simply gone numb.

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After studying abroad, I returned to find my childhood friend Wyatt Vance had a new girlfriend who instantly hated me. No gift? I was clique-ish. Keeping distance? I was playing games. Wearing a gown? I was seducing him. Exhausted, I cut ties with Wyatt. He snapped: “Willow, our families do business! This is just a threat to make me break up with Ellie! She’s just insecure because she loves me too much! Why corner her?” I was speechless. Stupidity, it seemed, was contagious. Later, when I took over the family corporation and Wyatt’s family fortune crumbled, he crawled back. “Help me this once, and I’ll dump Ellie. Her possessiveness scared away all our partners.” I smiled wearily. “Oh, I couldn’t. My back isn’t built for that baggage. You two deserve each other.” Leaning in, I added sweetly, “Besides, as you said, that’s just how she loves you.” 1 I’d spent the last semester overseas, helping my parents manage a branch of the family business. The moment I got back, I set up a reunion with my childhood crew. That’s when I learned that Wyatt, the third in our quartet, was officially off the market. I was just about to tease him when the private room door swung open. A girl stood there, a vision in a flowing white dress, her long, dark hair framing a face that was the very picture of innocence. She stood frozen, biting her lower lip, her eyes fixed on me with a wounded expression. “Ellie? I thought you were resting. What are you doing here?” Wyatt was the first to react, jogging over to wrap an arm around her. He grinned at us, introducing his girlfriend, Ellie Reed. “I missed you,” Ellie murmured into his chest, her voice a soft, breathy whisper. “I just… I don’t feel safe when you’re not around.” The rest of us just chuckled, ribbing Wyatt about his good fortune. “My girl’s the sweet, quiet type,” he boasted, “not like Willow here. She’s one of the guys, hahaha…” I shot him a playful glare, and the lively atmosphere returned. The four of us had been inseparable since we were in diapers. Our parents were all business partners, and our bond had stayed strong through the years. They knew I was easy-going and saw me as a sister, one of the crew. I played along, but I always knew where the lines were. I was in the middle of complaining about how bland the food was abroad when Ellie, who had been silent until now, spoke up. Her voice, thick with emotion, cut through the chatter as she stared at the gifts I’d laid out on the table. “Were you trying to leave me out on purpose, Willow?” Her voice was quiet, but the sob catching in her throat silenced the room. “You brought something back for everyone in your little group. Everyone but me.” “And you keep going on and on about how glamorous your life is overseas. I’ve never even been on a plane. Are you trying to mock me?” Her shoulders started to tremble, as if she were carrying the weight of some immense injustice. “Do you think I’m not good enough for Wyatt, Willow? Is that why you couldn’t even be bothered to get me a gift?” Wyatt’s face softened with pity. He immediately pulled her closer, wiping at her tears and cooing reassurances. I exchanged a glance with the other two guys. The air had turned thick with awkwardness. I set down my chopsticks and looked at Ellie, keeping my voice as even as I could. “You’ve misunderstood. You and Wyatt weren’t together when I left, so I hadn’t planned for an extra gift. It was an oversight on my part.” “If you don’t mind,” I continued, “I can have something sent to you tomorrow. Just let me know what kind of jewelry or perfume you like.” I thought that would smooth things over, but it only made her cry harder. She clutched at Wyatt’s shirt, burying her face in his chest. Her voice came out muffled, a portrait of misery. “Are you trying to buy me off? What kind of person do you think I am? Do you think a bottle of perfume will just shut me up? It’s not about the things. It’s just… I feel so excluded.” Mason, sitting next to me, frowned. As the oldest and most level-headed of our group, his words carried weight. “Ellie, Willow’s not like that,” he said calmly. “We’ve known her our whole lives. She’s straightforward. There are no hidden meanings. She just didn’t know about you ahead of time. It wasn’t personal.” Leo, the second oldest, jumped in, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, exactly! Willow asked us what we wanted before she left, and we all told her to just grab whatever. She went out of her way to pick this stuff out for us. She’s a good friend. It’s Wyatt’s fault for not telling her. Don’t overthink it, really. It’s not about you.” But it seemed to make Ellie feel even more victimized. She lifted her tear-streaked face to Wyatt. “Wyatt, you see? They’re all ganging up on me to defend her. Maybe I shouldn’t have come today. Am I just… in the way? Do you also think I’m just being crazy?” Wyatt’s expression soured instantly. He shot me a glare, his eyes dripping with blame, as if I’d committed some heinous crime. “Willow, can you just drop it? Ellie’s already sensitive and insecure. Did you have to come back and immediately start cornering her?” “It’s just a damn gift! You could have just offered to get her one and left it at that. Why did you have to explain everything and make her feel even worse?” 2 “Wyatt, man, cool it,” Leo cut in, nudging him lightly. “You know what Willow is like. Why are you losing your temper?” He shot me a reassuring look. Seeing Ellie’s tear-stained face, a knot formed in my stomach. She was my friend’s girlfriend, after all, and I didn’t want our first meeting to be a complete disaster. I decided to just keep my mouth shut. We probably wouldn’t see much of each other anyway. But after a tense silence, Ellie suddenly sprang to her feet, pointing a trembling finger at me as the tears flowed freely. “Why are you all comforting her? I’m the one who was left out! I’m the one who’s hurt! But you’re all gathered around her like I’m the villain, the outsider who doesn’t belong!” Her sudden outburst stunned me into silence. Mason and Leo froze. “I know how close you all are with Wyatt, so I swallowed my pride to come here and try to fit in. But I don’t understand, Willow! This is the first time we’ve ever met, and you’re already making things so difficult for me! What did I ever do to you?” “My roommate even warned me before I came,” she sobbed. “She said the ‘girl’ in these kinds of tight-knit groups always causes trouble. I trusted you, but you and your friends just treated me like a fool for your own amusement!” As her tirade reached its climax, her eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed backward. Wyatt lunged, catching her just in time. “Ellie! Ellie, look at you! You’re so fragile, and you’ve been crying so hard. You’re going to break my heart!” he cried, cradling her. “Wyatt… I’m scared,” she whispered weakly. “I’m scared of Willow…” With that, she went limp in his arms, a perfect damsel in distress. The next second, Wyatt exploded. “Are you happy now, Willow?!” he roared. “What the hell did you learn overseas? How to be a vicious bully? You’re a pampered princess, you have everything! We let you boss us around, and that’s fine!” “I told you to leave Ellie alone! She loves me! Do you think she’d even be at your stupid party if it wasn’t to see me?” “You just had to push her until she passed out! I’m warning you, she is the woman I love, and if anything happens to her, I swear to God I’ll make you pay!” Without another word, he scooped Ellie into his arms, shoved past Mason and Leo, and slammed into me on his way out the door. If Mason hadn’t caught me, I would have crashed into the corner of the table. I steadied myself, my head spinning. It took me a moment to process what had just happened. Is that really how he saw me all these years? A bossy princess? He was the one throwing his weight around. Once the shock subsided, a cold anger settled in. I’d never had someone scream at me like that in my entire life, let alone one of my oldest friends. “Willow, you okay?” Mason asked, his voice laced with concern. He ruffled my hair, just like he used to when we were kids. “Don’t worry, I’ll have a serious talk with him. He’s clearly been blinded by a pretty face, saying things he shouldn’t.” “Seriously!” Leo chimed in, his own anger flaring. “His girlfriend is a textbook manipulator, straight out of one of those online novels. For all we know, she faked that faint! And Wyatt… ‘the woman I love’? Puh-lease. I’m pretty sure he said the same thing about the last one. Hmph. They both owe you a huge apology.” Leo had always been the most fiercely protective of us all. Listening to his rant against Wyatt actually made me feel a little better. I’ve always been decisive. Once I calmed down, I figured I’d just avoid Ellie from now on. Problem solved. As for Wyatt… we had history. And besides, he had saved my life once, a long time ago. I could let this one slide. The semester was starting anyway. We were all busy with classes and our family businesses, and the incident quickly faded into the background. I hadn’t spoken to Wyatt since that night, though I still hung out with Mason and Leo whenever we had time. After a while, Wyatt must have noticed the distance between us. He actually reached out, for the first time in weeks, trying to get the group together and sending me apologetic memes to smooth things over. But I had a business meeting that day and couldn’t make it. Wyatt posted a picture with Mason and Leo on his social media feed. “Amazing steak dinner, courtesy of the big man @MasonThorne! You missed out, @WillowHayes! You owe us next time!” Leo tagged me in a comment too, and I just replied with a laughing emoji. I never expected that, later that night, I’d get a phone call from Ellie. 3 I was surprised to see Ellie’s name on my screen; I’d never given her my number. But I was even more surprised by the venom in her voice. “Well played, Willow. You’ve really mastered the art of playing hard to get.” I froze, caught off guard. This was a far cry from the fragile, wilting flower I’d met. “You’ve been deliberately avoiding Wyatt for the past few weeks, haven’t you? All so he’d be the one to tag you on social media today.” My fingers tightened around my phone, my patience wearing thin. “You’re just using his guilt over your ‘friendship’ to your advantage. You pretend to be too ‘busy’ to see him, then drop a casual emoji on his post. It makes you look gracious while keeping him wrapped around your little finger. You’re just waiting for him to come crawling back to you, aren’t you?” I took a deep breath, trying to smother the fire rising in my chest. “Ellie, this is the second time you’ve come at me like this. I’m letting it go because of Wyatt, but that doesn’t mean I’m a pushover.” “Wyatt and I have known each other for over a decade. I don’t need to ‘play hard to get’ to maintain our friendship. To me, he’s just a friend I grew up with. So take your bizarre accusations and shove them. I’m busy, and I don’t have time for your psycho-drama.” “Don’t play innocent!” she shrieked, her voice so sharp it made my ear ache. “I know your type! You girls in these little cliques are always secretly in love with one of the guys. You can’t stand to see him happy with someone else. You just want them all to yourself!” “You can’t stand seeing me and Wyatt together! You’re playing hard to get to drive a wedge between us! What do you have that I don’t? A little more money? You’re just another spoiled trust-fund baby! Without your family’s cash, you’re nothing…” I rubbed my temples. Listening to her unhinged rant was almost… funny. Was this a personality disorder or just an overactive imagination? “Willow,” her voice suddenly cracked, shifting into a pathetic whimper, “you know how insecure I am. You know I’m scared I won’t fit in. You’re trying to isolate me, to turn everyone against me, aren’t you? Why are you doing this to me? I tried to apologize, and you won’t even accept it…” That sudden, dramatic shift in tone sent a chill down my spine. I knew what was coming. Sure enough, I heard the sound of footsteps, then Wyatt’s roar as he presumably snatched the phone. “What the hell, Willow?! Ellie went out of her way to get your number from me so she could apologize! She was worried there was a misunderstanding between us. She’s bending over backward, and you’re still bullying her?!” Hearing Wyatt instantly take her side, without a moment of hesitation, just exhausted me. His parents were self-made millionaires; you’d think they would’ve raised a son with a mind of his own. “Wyatt,” Ellie’s theatrical, tragic voice piped up from the background, “does Willow just look down on me? Is she trying to break us up? Why else would she keep targeting me? Why won’t she just leave me alone?” Before Wyatt could fall for it again, I cut her off. “Oh, shut up. Your entire world revolves around imaginary rivals, doesn’t it? You just live for the drama. I’ve given you a pass time and again for Wyatt’s sake, but you just don’t quit.” “And you, Wyatt,” I snapped, my voice dripping with contempt, “is that a tumor on your neck, or just your head? A zombie has more brains than you. You believe every word she says. You really think I have nothing better to do than entertain you two and your little freak show?” The frustration from the past few weeks finally boiled over. I was done. I was juggling my studies and the family company, running myself ragged, and these two were my biggest headache. “Since you’re so convinced I’m the villain trying to break you up, then fine. We’re done. You can have a wonderful life with your precious, fragile girlfriend.” “Let’s just delete each other’s numbers. Out of sight, out of mind.” I spat the words out and hung up, my temples throbbing. I knew it was impulsive, but I couldn’t take it anymore. For years, I’d put up with Wyatt’s moods. My parents had helped the Vance family make a few small fortunes over the years, more than repaying the debt for him saving my life as a kid. Just as I was vowing to never speak to Wyatt again, a frantic pounding echoed from my front door.

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The wine had been flowing for a while at the business dinner when my boyfriend Joshua’s assistant, Vivian, finally made her grand entrance. The first thing she did was point a perfectly manicured finger at my outfit. “Ms. Sloane,” she began, her voice dripping with faux concern, “everyone knows that tweed look… it screams ‘the other woman.’ This is a professional dinner. Don’t you think that’s a bit inappropriate?” She then gestured to the table. “And I see you ordered the Seafood Trio. Are you trying to make a statement about being the ‘third’ party?” She pressed a hand to her mouth in mock horror. “Oh, you can’t just put things like that out in the open. It’s so scandalous!” A hush fell over the room. I turned my gaze to Joshua, but he just waved a dismissive hand. “Get rid of that dish,” he ordered the waiter, then looked at me. “And you, go change.” He added, as if it explained everything, “She’s young, just a little detail-oriented. It’s a joke. Don’t take it seriously.” Details? A slow smile spread across my face. I deliberately set down my pen. “Alright. In that case, I won’t be signing this three-hundred-million-dollar contract.” I met his gaze, my smile unwavering. “I have to be detail-oriented myself, after all. Can’t sign a ‘mistress contract,’ now can I?” 1 “Wendy, watch your tone.” “This is a boardroom, not a playground.” Under the bright chandeliers, Joshua’s face was a mask of cold indifference, his eyes flashing a warning. I couldn’t even be bothered to lift my eyelids fully. “Oh?” I said, my voice deceptively soft. “I thought we were talking business.” “The contract is void. The deal is off. I’m not signing.” I finally looked at him. “Mr. Chase, do you not understand?” “Wendy!” His voice was finally laced with anger. “This is three hundred million dollars! We’re not playing games!” “Exactly,” I shot back. “It’s precisely because it’s three hundred million that I can’t sign.” My voice was steel. “Your assistant turns a dress and a dish into an accusation of me being a mistress. If I sign a contract for this much money, what will that make me? I’d be infamous.” I snatched the contract from the table and, in front of everyone, ripped it clean in two. Then I tossed the pieces in Joshua’s face. “Whoa! Ms. Sloane, please, calm down! If there’s a misunderstanding, let’s just talk it through!” Joshua’s team scrambled, their faces a mixture of panic and disbelief. His assistant, Vivian, was the first to react. Her eyes welled with tears as she reached for a wine glass. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Sloane! It’s all my fault, I misspoke! I’ll drink three glasses to apologize! Please, don’t make things difficult for Joshua!” She tilted her head back, but before the rim of the glass could touch her lips, Joshua snatched it from her hand. “Are you crazy? You’ll have a fatal allergic reaction to the alcohol, have you forgotten?!” He pulled her into a tight embrace, his voice dropping to a gentle whisper as he checked her over for any sign of a reaction. Vivian, nestled in his arms, shot me a timid, triumphant glance from over his shoulder. I watched the scene unfold, a familiar bitter ache spreading through my chest. I have a severe, life-threatening allergy to mangoes. But just before dinner, he had casually ordered mango pudding for dessert. Because it was Vivian’s favorite. “If you weren’t going to eat it, you should have said so. What a waste,” he’d chided me then, glancing at my untouched dessert plate. He hadn’t had a place for me in his heart for a long time. “Are you happy now?” Joshua’s voice, sharp with resentment, pulled me from my thoughts. “If you’ve had your fun, then draw up a new contract and sign it. I have to get Vivian to the hospital. I don’t have time for your drama!” The rest of his team chimed in, trying to smooth things over, insisting it was all just a joke and that we should focus on the deal. I remained seated, a placid smile on my face, saying nothing. “What’s going on here?” Chloe Vance, the other senior manager on my team who had stepped out to take a call, walked back in, her eyes widening at the chaotic scene. “Chloe, you’re back just in time,” I said, my smile genuine now. “I know how much you enjoyed the Seafood Trio, so I ordered another one for the table.” I paused, letting my eyes drift over to Joshua’s team. “But it seems Mr. Chase’s people believe the dish implies we’re ‘the other woman.’ They said it was indecent and had to be removed immediately.” “Since they’re so concerned with details,” I continued, my voice clear and steady, “a three-hundred-million-dollar contract is obviously too sensitive to sign.” I looked at her, my expression open and innocent. “Don’t you agree?” The color drained from every face at the table. Chloe’s husband had cheated on her recently. There was nothing she hated more than a mistress. “In that case, there’s no need to continue this partnership,” Chloe said, her voice like ice. She picked up her handbag. “We have other options. It’s not like Apex Industries is our only choice.” “Wendy, let’s go.” She turned and walked out. I followed without a moment’s hesitation. A chorus of desperate pleas erupted behind us. Panicked faces turned to glare at Vivian. “What does it have to do with her?” Joshua’s voice, though strained, was still fiercely protective of his assistant. “That woman’s just lost her mind.” He gently wiped Vivian’s tears before finally storming out after us. “Wendy, have you had your little tantrum?!” He grabbed my wrist, trying to pull me toward his car. “Go home and think about what you’ve done. You…” I wrenched my arm from his grasp, a smirk playing on my lips. “No, thanks. I have a ride.” My eyes met his. “Your license plate has the number ‘three’ in it. I don’t like it.” 2 The air crackled with a sudden, sharp silence. Joshua stared at me, his expression a cocktail of disbelief and fury. “I told you, it was a joke! How long are you going to blow this out of proportion?” “A joke?” My smile didn’t reach my eyes. “Joshua, you used to be ready to fight men to the death over a ‘joke.’” A flicker of something—memory, confusion—crossed his face. It was the first year we were together. At a party, a guy had made a crude comment, his hand reaching for my skirt. Before he could even touch the fabric, Joshua had sent him to the hospital. He was young and reckless back then, but he treated me like a treasure, something precious to be protected at all costs. We’d been together for five years. We worked for different companies but had always been each other’s biggest supporters, climbing the ladder side-by-side. Tonight was supposed to be a culmination of that—two leaders at the same negotiating table, our professional and personal lives finally aligning for a perfect future. And then Vivian appeared. Her provocations, her constant overstepping of boundaries—Joshua saw none of it. Or chose not to. He always said she was young, that she reminded him of me when we first met. He couldn’t bring himself to discipline her. I had lied to myself, forgiven him, and looked the other way, time and time again. But tonight, the fog had finally cleared. The Joshua I loved was long gone. “How is that the same thing?” he finally snapped. “Those guys were creeps trying to hurt you. Vivian? She’s just a kid. She didn’t mean any harm. How did she hurt you?” I let out a short, sharp laugh. “Oh, please. I don’t consider her pathetic little games to be ‘harm.’” “I’m simply following her advice,” I said, my voice sweet as poison. “Avoiding anything associated with the number three. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you, after all.” I pulled open the door to another car and slid inside. “Wendy!” Joshua slammed his hand on the door, blocking it, his face a thundercloud. “As I recall, none of the companies in your backup plan can hold a candle to Apex.” “This project is time-sensitive. If you keep dragging your feet, the profits will take a hit, and then, Wendy—” He smirked, holding up three fingers. “Three hundred million. Let’s see how you plan to cover that loss.” He straightened up, his confidence restored, now issuing commands. “Be at my office tomorrow to sign the contract. And to apologize to Vivian.” “Otherwise,” he added with a final, smug look, “the offer expires.” The car door closed, and I watched his triumphant figure recede, feeling nothing. Three hundred million? I could afford it. I ignored his threats completely. The next day, I met with Chloe to discuss our next move. I’d barely said two words when she slid her phone across the table, her expression grim. “You need to see this.” I looked down. It was a viral post, with my name in the headline. “Wendyron Group Exec Sleeps Her Way to the Top, Throws Hissy Fit and Tanks $300M Deal, Leaving Us Grunts to Clean Up the Mess.” Below the headline was a crystal-clear surveillance video of me ripping up the contract and storming out of the private room. 3 The video quality was sharp, my face clearly visible. The fact that it had already reached Chloe meant it was spreading like wildfire. “Hey, I know her. She’s the new GM at our company, just got promoted this year.” “That young and already a General Manager? Guess the rumors are true.” “God knows how many bosses she had to sleep with to get there.” “That’s our hard work she just threw away. What a petty, disgusting bitch.” Amid the flood of hate, some of my colleagues tried to defend me, but their comments were quickly drowned out or deleted. The post was clearly being boosted by paid trolls. Chloe looked at me, concerned. “Do you need to handle this first?” I waved a dismissive hand. “It’s nothing. Chloe, I came to talk about something more important.” “I want to approach Aethelgard Tech as our new partner. What do you think?” “What? You mean the overseas Aethelgard?” she asked, her eyes wide with surprise. “They’re the world leader in this field. Apex is nothing compared to them.” “But… can we actually land them?” “I never go into a battle unprepared,” I said calmly. “The only question is, are you willing to fly out with me to close this deal?” Chloe was a renowned powerhouse in her own right. Hearing my confidence, she didn’t hesitate. “I’m in.” By the time I left our meeting and checked my phone again, the slanderous post about me had vanished. In its place were eighteen high-definition screenshots of Vivian’s private chat logs. “That girl Lisa in HR is so ugly, why does she insist on wearing short skirts to work? Who is she trying to seduce?” “Mr. Davis in Engineering needs to lay off the makeup. His skin is so saggy, he probably gives men nightmares.” “And that woman in finance, Brenda, with her fake baby voice. Sounds like she just rolled out of some guy’s bed. Makes me sick.” Every single screenshot was a vicious, slanderous attack on her colleagues. I smiled, closed the app, and blocked all incoming calls from Joshua. Six days later, after tying up all my loose ends, I returned home, feeling pleased with myself. The moment I walked in, I was hit by the cloying scent of a woman’s perfume. A hair tie and a piece of lingerie were strewn across the living room rug. The flowers in the vase had been replaced with a cheap bouquet I would never buy. “Wendy?” Joshua emerged from the bedroom, his expression freezing when he saw me. “So, you’ve finally cooled off and decided to come home?” “Do you have any idea what Vivian has been through?” he started in before I could even speak, his voice thick with accusation. “After those messages were leaked, her colleagues bullied her so badly she almost jumped off a roof.” He jabbed a finger at me. “I’m warning you, I won’t let you hurt her again.” He tossed a new contract at my feet. “She still feels so guilty about this deal that she can barely eat or sleep. If you have any conscience at all, you’ll sign it and go apologize to her.” “She’s resting in the bedroom. When she wakes up, you can make her some soup to help her recover.” I almost laughed in his face. “Joshua, if you need a maid, go hire one. Now get out of my way.” I picked up the contract and dropped it straight into the trash can, then headed for my own bedroom. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble?! Look what you’ve done to her! Isn’t it enough?!” he yelled, his voice filled with anguish. I turned, genuinely confused. “Done to her? What have I done? Were those chat logs fake?” “Joshua,” I said, my voice dangerously soft, “you don’t actually think I came home to make up with you, do you?” “I’m leaving the country tomorrow. I just came back to pack.” I tossed a single sheet of paper at him. “And to inform you that we’re over.” The paper fluttered to the ground. The words at the top were stark and clear: ABORTION REPORT. 4 The mask of composure on Joshua’s face finally cracked. I was less than three months along. I’m healthy, so three days after the procedure, I was back at work. If I was going to end things, I was going to sever every tie. “Wendy, you’d better tell me this is fake.” Joshua’s hands were shaking violently. “Believe what you want.” I was done talking. I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the door. “Wendy—” He called out again, his eyes bloodshot. “Don’t make me give up on you.” I raised an eyebrow, about to remind him that I was the one who had dumped him. Just then, Vivian stumbled out of the bedroom and collapsed to her knees in front of me. “Ms. Sloane, I’m begging you, please stop fighting with Joshua.” “It was my fault, I spoke without thinking. You can punish me, just please, don’t make things hard for him!” She started banging her head on the floor, tears streaming down her face. A trickle of blood soon appeared on her forehead. “Wendy, you’ve gone too far!” The second Vivian fainted, Joshua scooped her into his arms and rushed out the door, throwing one last venomous glare over his shoulder. I calmly got into the car waiting to take me to the airport. Just before takeoff, a message from Vivian popped up on my screen. It was an ultrasound picture. 12 weeks. “How pathetic,” Chloe muttered, glancing at my phone with a sneer. I just smiled and blocked the number. After a grueling week of negotiations, Chloe and I flew back, heading straight to our respective offices to get to work. But standing at the entrance to my building was Joshua, with Vivian at his side. “Wendy. Did you think running off to another country for a week would erase what you did?” he asked, a cruel smirk on his face. “What, did you hear a director from the board was coming for an inspection? Scared of being exposed, so you came crawling back to confess?” “I’ll give you one last chance to sign the contract. One last chance to save yourself.” “I’m keeping Vivian’s baby,” he continued, magnanimous. “She’s all alone. I have to take responsibility.” “But if you sign, I promise she will never threaten your position. We can…” “Joshua, I’ve already found a new partner,” I interrupted with a placid smile. “The person who lost this project was you.” “So the person who should be panicking right now is also you, isn’t it?” “Wendy, what nonsense are you spouting?” he scoffed. “No other company in this country is a better fit than Apex.” “If you insist on being stubborn, then I’ll have no choice but to tell the board director everything you’ve done.” “Oh? Go right ahead.” “As it happens, I need to speak with the chairman myself.” I brushed past him and stepped into the elevator. His face went blank for a second, then twisted with rage as he followed me in. When we entered the executive office, a group of people was just finishing shaking hands with the Wendyron Group’s chairman, Damian Croft. Before I could say a word, Joshua launched into his tirade. He painted me as an emotional, deceitful subordinate who had cost the company a fortune. But as he spoke, I noticed something strange. The chairman’s expression remained perfectly calm. Not a flicker of anger. Joshua, breathless from his speech, was met with a serene, unreadable face. An uneasy feeling began to creep into his heart. “You didn’t like that deal?” When Joshua finished, Damian smiled, but his question was directed at me. Joshua froze. “That’s right. I don’t like the number three, and the deal just happened to be for three hundred million,” I replied cheerfully. “So I didn’t sign it.” “Well, if you don’t like it, you don’t like it.” Joshua watched in disbelief as the powerful older man gave me a helpless, indulgent smile. “It’s only three hundred million. We’re not hurting for it.” “Oh, I wouldn’t say that,” I said, walking over and linking my arm through his. “I actually think it’s a great project. That’s why I found a different partner.” I placed the new contract on the table. “Dad, could you take a look at this for your daughter and tell me if Aethelgard Tech is a suitable partner?”

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I inherited my family’s old building and poured my heart into transforming it into a co-living space. A prime downtown location, five stories, with a sprawling courtyard. I knocked out every non-load-bearing wall, carving out a new vision for the space. I designed singles, doubles, and quads to meet different needs. The rent was half the market rate of the surrounding area. And I only accepted tenants who were within three years of graduation. I didn’t develop the courtyard. Instead, I built a gym and a cafeteria. The gym was filled with brand-new equipment. I hired two chefs for the cafeteria, and the prices were the same as a university dining hall. For the first month of tenancy, all meals were free. I thought I was doing something good. Giving these young people, just starting their lives, a place to breathe. A home. They called me their “Dream Landlord.” They gave me a plaque and wrote glowing testimonials online. Looking at their bright, young faces, I felt it was all worth it. Until Elias showed up. He stood at the entrance to the building, a silver suitcase at his side. He adjusted the gold-rimmed glasses on his nose, his eyes critically examining the four words carved above the door: “The Haven.” Then, he smiled. 1 I was the one who checked Elias in myself. His credentials were intimidating. Top-tier law school, a full ride, awards spilling off his resume. I gave him the tour, showing off the facilities. “The gym is free to use, the cafeteria serves three meals a day, and all utilities are included.” I pointed to the price list on the wall. “Here’s the menu. A main with two sides is five dollars.” He nodded, silent, his gaze lingering for a few seconds on the kitchen door of the cafeteria. As we walked down a hallway, he suddenly stopped. He pointed to a fire extinguisher in the corner. “Clara,” he said, his tone casual, “the inspection tag on this extinguisher expired last month.” I was taken aback. “Oh… the maintenance guy must have forgotten to swap it out. I’ll have him take care of it immediately.” “There’s no such thing as a small safety issue.” His voice was placid, but it carried an unshakeable weight. A flicker of annoyance went through me, but I smiled it away. “You’re right. I’ll have it replaced right away.” He moved into 301, the best single room in the building, south-facing with a private balcony. In the days that followed, subtle changes began to ripple through The Haven. Elias was a constant presence in the common areas. He’d help the cafeteria staff chop vegetables. He’d play chess with the security guard downstairs. In the gym, he would patiently teach a shy kid how to use the equipment. The other tenants quickly got to know him, and they adored him. Soon, everyone was calling him by his first name. “Elias knows so much about everything.” “He’s such a great guy, so down-to-earth.” “That’s what you get from a top school. Real class.” Listening to the chatter, my initial unease faded. Maybe I had overreacted. Having such a brilliant and helpful young man around was a good thing. A week later, I went to the cafeteria after dinner to discuss the next week’s menu with the chef. Elias was there, surrounded by a crowd of tenants. He was holding a document, seemingly explaining something. I moved closer. “…according to Section 13 of the Urban Housing and Tenancy Act, residential rentals must adhere to the original designed room as the minimum rental unit. Altering the internal structure for subdivision is prohibited…” His voice was clear, methodical. “Many of the rooms we live in now are subdivided spaces, which is in direct violation of this regulation.” A tenant asked in a low voice, “But Clara’s rent is so cheap. The subdivided rooms are fine, aren’t they?” Elias smiled. “‘Cheap’ is a foundation built on illegality and danger. Have you considered that in the event of a fire, these subdivided rooms become the single greatest safety hazard? We pay rent. We have the right to a legal and safe living environment. This isn’t a gift. It’s a right.” He stressed the word “right.” Another tenant chimed in, “Elias is right! That fire extinguisher was expired, too. I mentioned it to Clara later, and she didn’t replace it right away!” I remembered having the guard replace it that same day. My feet stopped at the cafeteria entrance. The evening breeze felt suddenly cold. I didn’t go in. I turned and walked away. Back in my office, I sat in my chair, motionless for a long time. I pulled out the files for every tenant. Attached to the back of every single contract was a Safety Disclosure Form I had signed personally. It clearly stated: “Portions of this building have been retrofitted. The tenant acknowledges this and agrees to rent the premises voluntarily.” Every single one of them had signed it. 2 The next day, the building’s group chat exploded. Elias had posted a document titled: “A Proposal for the Improvement of The Haven’s Living Environment and Safety Standards.” It was an eloquent, three-thousand-word manifesto, covering everything from fire safety and food sanitation to the terms of our contracts. Every point was backed by legal precedent and screenshots of city ordinances. He concluded with a few “proposals”: First, he demanded that I dismantle all subdivided walls and restore the building to its original layout. Second, he demanded that the gym and cafeteria be registered as commercial entities, with proper business licenses and health permits. Third, he demanded that we sign new, “legally compliant” lease agreements, which would explicitly state that the gym and cafeteria were ancillary services provided free of charge. The chat was flooded with messages of support. “Go, Elias! You’re saying what we’ve all been thinking!” “Housing justice! We’re not trying to get a free ride, we’re trying to get what’s right!” “Honestly, I’ve always thought the cafeteria’s hygiene was a little sketchy.” “Yeah, who’s responsible if we get food poisoning?” I stared at the username of the person who complained about the cafeteria. It was Leo, from the second floor. Just yesterday at lunch, he’d bought four meals to-go, telling everyone it was for his girlfriend. I turned off my phone, rubbing my temples. That afternoon, I called Elias to my office. He looked the same as always—gold-rimmed glasses, crisp white shirt, calm and polite. “Clara. You wanted to see me?” I placed a printed copy of his “Proposal” on the desk. “Elias, before you wrote this, why didn’t you come talk to me first?” He adjusted his glasses. “Clara, this isn’t my personal opinion. It represents the collective demands of the majority of the tenants. I believe that initiating a discussion on a public platform is more efficient, transparent, and open than a private conversation.” “Open and transparent?” I held up the document. “You’re demanding I tear down the walls. There are over fifty tenants living in those rooms right now. Where do you expect them to go? Have you thought about that?” “That’s a problem for you, as the lessor, to solve. You could offer them a refund and compensation, or find them alternative housing.” His answer was flawless, airtight. “The gym and the cafeteria are perks I pay for out of my own pocket, free for everyone. Now you’re demanding I get business licenses. Do you have any idea what that entails? It means I’d have to pay substantial taxes, and subject myself to a barrage of regulations from health, fire, and business departments. Have you considered how much that would increase my costs?” “Clara, they are not perks,” he interrupted, his tone hardening. “When these facilities are tied to your rental business, they become part of a commercial service. Whether you charge for them or not, they must be legally regulated. This is to protect the rights of all of us as consumers.” Consumers. He used that word. I laughed, a humorless, angry sound. “So, while you all enjoy rent that is far below market rate, and use the gym and cafeteria I provide for free, you are now, in the name of being ‘consumers,’ demanding that I, the ‘operator,’ bear all the legal risks and operational costs?” “Before the law, all are equal.” He looked at me, his eyes devoid of warmth. “Sentiment cannot supersede legal statute. When you first renovated this building, you should have anticipated these issues. All we are doing now is bringing things back into compliance.” I took a deep breath. I pointed to the stack of contracts on my desk. “Every single person signed a disclosure form before moving in, acknowledging the renovations. It’s in black and white. They all agreed to it voluntarily.” The corner of Elias’s mouth twitched into a barely perceptible smirk. “Clara, you should know this better than I do. In contract law, there’s a concept known as an unconscionable term in a boilerplate contract. When such a term violates state-mandated regulations, or absolves the provider of their primary responsibilities while adding undue burden to the other party, that term is void.” “Those ‘voluntary’ agreements you had them sign? They’re worthless in a court of law.” There was a knock on the office door. Mia, a girl from the fourth floor, peeked her head in, holding a lunchbox. She saw Elias and looked awkward. “C-Clara… I… I was just wondering if there was any of that braised pork left from dinner?” Before I could answer, Elias turned to her with a warm smile. “Mia, I’m just discussing the points we all raised with Clara. Don’t worry. We will absolutely fight to secure a safer and more hygienic dining environment for everyone.” Mia blinked, then nodded vigorously. “You’ve got this, Elias! We’re all behind you!” She backed out, closing the door softly behind her. She had forgotten she was there for food. I looked at Elias, and a chill that had nothing to do with the evening breeze crept down my spine. 3 The negotiations collapsed. I refused all of their “proposals.” I told them the gym and cafeteria were perks that I could cancel at any time. The subdivided rooms were the reality they had all agreed to when they moved in, and that would not change. If they were unhappy, they could submit a request to terminate their lease one month in advance, as per the contract, and I would not penalize them. The next day, a single sheet of A4 paper was taped to my office door. It was titled: Final Ultimatum. It demanded that I provide a positive response to their requests and begin implementation within 72 hours. Otherwise, they would take “all necessary legal measures.” It was signed: The Haven Tenants’ Rights Committee. Person-in-charge: Elias. The atmosphere in the building changed completely. In the hallways, the same young people who used to greet me with warm smiles now averted their eyes when they saw me, hurrying away as if I were a ghost. The group chat I had created, “The Haven Family,” was now their war room. I didn’t leave the group. I watched them delegate tasks and strategize on how to gather evidence. “Who can get photos of the cafeteria kitchen? Try to get the grimy corners.” “Check the gym equipment. See if any of it is past its service life.” “Everyone needs to write a testimony. Emphasize that we were misled by the landlord and didn’t know the subdivided rooms were illegal.” “I’ve already contacted my friend who’s interning at a news station. They’re very interested in a story about ‘graduates fighting for their rights.’” Elias directed the operation with cool precision. “Everyone, remember, our goal isn’t to cause a scene, it’s to ‘defend our rights according to the law.’ All evidence must be obtained legally. Don’t give them anything they can use against us. And remember to record all conversations with Clara.” I saw that guy, Leo, was the most active in the chat. “Don’t worry, Elias! I’ve already taken pictures of the crack in my wall! We can say the building is structurally unsound!” I remembered that crack. He had made it himself when he clumsily tried to hammer a nail into the wall to hang a bookshelf. He had even come to me, asking if I could help him patch it. I sat in my office, smoking one cigarette after another. The ashtray was soon overflowing. Seventy-two hours passed. I did nothing. On the morning of the fourth day, I was served with a court summons. Plaintiff: Elias, and ninety-eight other tenants. Defendant: Me. Case: Lease agreement dispute and illegal business operations. I looked at the long, familiar list of names on the summons. The first was Elias. The last was Mia, the girl who had wanted braised pork just a few days ago. I tossed the summons on the desk and called my lawyer. “Hey, old friend. I’ve got a bit of a mess on my hands. I need your help.” My lawyer listened to the whole story, then was silent for a long time. “This is tricky. Very tricky,” he said. “The other party’s representative, or rather, the ringleader, is a master. He’s targeted your two biggest vulnerabilities: the structural modifications and the unlicensed operations. On those two points, you have almost no chance of winning in court.” “What about the contracts? They all signed them.” “Just like this Elias kid said, they’ll likely be deemed invalid boilerplate clauses. You’re up against a large group of young people, the so-called ‘vulnerable group.’ They’ll easily win the judge’s sympathy. Right now, in the court of public opinion and the court of law, you are at a complete disadvantage.” “So there’s nothing I can do?” “The only way out is to settle. Agree to some of their conditions, like rent reductions or compensation, and get them to withdraw the lawsuit. It’s the least costly option.” I hung up the phone. Settle? I looked out the window. In the courtyard, a few tenants were laughing and talking in the gym. They were still using the equipment I had bought. I picked up my phone and sent a single message to the group chat. “See you in court.” The chat was silent for three seconds. Then, Elias replied with an “OK” hand gesture emoji. 4 The day of the hearing, the sky was a heavy, oppressive gray. The courtroom gallery was packed. There were tenants from The Haven, and reporters from several media outlets. Elias didn’t hire a lawyer. He was representing the plaintiffs himself. He wore a sharp, tailored suit, his hair perfectly coiffed. He stood at the plaintiff’s podium, speaking with fluent confidence. He presented the judge with a thick binder of evidence. There were photos of the subdivided rooms, close-ups of the “questionable hygiene” in the cafeteria kitchen, and news articles he’d found online about the fire hazards of illegally modified apartments. There was also a hundred-page document containing the joint testimony of all the tenants. Each statement was written with heart-wrenching emotion. They accused me of exploiting their naivete as recent graduates, luring them into “illegal” living conditions. They accused me of using the gimmick of “free” amenities to provide “unsafe and unsanitary” food services. They painted themselves as innocent lambs, deceived and exploited by a heartless landlord. Elias’s closing statement was a masterpiece of inflammatory rhetoric. “Your Honor, we are not here to make unreasonable demands. We are recent graduates who came to this city with dreams in our hearts. We hoped for a safe harbor, but what we found was a trap filled with lies and hidden dangers!” “The defendant, Ms. Chen, built a reputation as a ‘Dream Landlord,’ basking in public praise while secretly engaging in illegal activities, putting the lives of over one hundred young people at risk!” “What we demand is not monetary compensation! What we demand is justice under the law! What we demand is our right to safe housing!” His voice was passionate, his gestures powerful. In the gallery, his supporters looked on with expressions of profound emotion and outrage. A few of the female reporters were already scribbling furiously in their notebooks. When it was my lawyer’s turn, he presented the signed contracts and the Safety Disclosure Forms. Elias immediately shot to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor! As I’ve already argued, these so-called ‘disclosures’ are classic examples of invalid boilerplate clauses! The defendant used her position of power to impose an illegal living situation upon us and is now attempting to use these documents to absolve herself of legal responsibility. The law cannot allow this!” My lawyer tried to argue, but Elias countered every point with more professional legal jargon, a more cunning line of logic. The judge’s expression grew increasingly stern. His gaze, when it fell on me, turned to ice. I knew I had lost. I had lost from the very beginning. This lawsuit, from start to finish, was a perfectly orchestrated play, directed by Elias. A flawless siege, waged with the weapon of “the law” in the name of “justice.” During the recess, I was smoking at the end of the hallway. Elias walked over. He stood before me, silhouetted against the light. “Clara. It’s not too late to admit defeat. If you agree to our terms, we can withdraw the lawsuit immediately. It’s better for you, and for everyone.” I looked at him. “And if I don’t?” He smiled. “Then we will win. And you will lose everything.” “The building will be shut down, and you’ll face massive fines. More importantly, your ‘Dream Landlord’ persona will be shattered. You will become the ‘slumlord’ in every media headline. Your reputation will be ruined.” He leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “Everything you worked so hard to build will be destroyed. Is it worth it?” I stubbed out my cigarette on the edge of the trash can. “See you in court.” I repeated the words. His face darkened. “You’re ungrateful.” He spat the word out and turned away. 5 The verdict was announced. To no one’s surprise, I lost. The court ruled that the clauses in my lease agreements regarding the structure of the rooms were void. I was ordered to dismantle all subdivided walls and restore the building to its original layout within one month. Furthermore, because the gym and cafeteria were unlicensed, they were deemed illegal business operations. I was fined twenty thousand dollars. The common areas, the gym, and the cafeteria were immediately sealed off by the court. The moment the verdict was read, the gallery erupted in thunderous applause and cheers. The tenants hugged each other, celebrating their “victory.” Elias was swarmed by reporters. Camera flashes strobed relentlessly. He faced the cameras, triumphant. “Today is not a personal victory for us. It is a victory for the law, a victory for justice! It sends a message to all young people that when you face injustice, you must not be silent, you must not compromise. You must bravely take up the weapon of the law to defend your rights!” A reporter shoved a microphone in my face. “Ms. Chen, what are you feeling about the verdict? Will you appeal?” “Ms. Chen, as the former ‘Dream Landlord,’ now convicted of illegal operations, do you have anything to say to the public?” I said nothing. Flanked by my lawyer, I pushed through the crowd. I reached the courthouse steps, about to get into my car. Elias’s voice came from behind me. “Landlord.” I stopped, but didn’t turn around. He walked up to stand beside me. The reporters immediately swarmed us again. In front of all the cameras, he looked at me, a flicker of mockery in his eyes. “It’s a new era.” His voice was quiet, but it carried to every ear. “The era of exploiting legal loopholes and hiding behind a mask of goodwill is over. My generation isn’t that naive.” I turned my head and looked him in the eye. Behind those gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes shone with the light of a victor. I said nothing. I just gave him a long, deep look. Then, I pulled open the car door and got in. As the car pulled away, I saw him in the rearview mirror, still standing there, surrounded by reporters and cheering tenants, like a conquering hero. I took out my phone and turned it off. Then, I closed my eyes. One week. That was all I needed.

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