Author: Momo Chan

I saw it with my own eyes: my wife, eight months pregnant, fooling around with the new intern in her office. In the fallout, I chose my daughter, not my wife. I raised her with the help of my best friend. Twenty years later, at the equity transfer ceremony, my daughter told me she had a special gift for me. Smiling, I began to sign the contract. Halfway through my signature, the pen ran out of ink. I set it down, about to signal my assistant for a replacement. But my daughter, assuming I had finished, clapped her hands toward the conference room doors. The doors swung open, and a middle-aged woman walked in. A woman whose face haunted my nightmares, a woman I had fantasized about tearing apart with my bare hands a thousand times over. 1 “This is your big gift for me?” The polished, radiant woman standing before me was none other than my ex-wife, Lillian—the woman who had cheated on me during her pregnancy without a shred of shame. The moment she appeared, every eye in the room swiveled to me. Many of them had been there for the spectacular implosion of my marriage, and they had all watched me raise my child alone, through years of tireless work. “Dad,” my daughter, Sophie, said, her voice smooth. “You’ve been through so much, all these years alone. It’s time you and Mom made things right.” I gripped the arms of my chair and pushed myself up, my voice urgent as I reached for Sophie’s hand. “Sophie, you don’t understand what happened back then. You’re old enough now. I can explain everything.” But she pulled her hand away, her face a cold mask. “I already know what happened. Mom had a moment of weakness, and for that, you threw her out and robbed me of a mother for twenty years.” The air was punched from my lungs. I couldn’t believe it. The child I had poured my entire life into was so blind to the truth. Lillian shot me a look of smug triumph. “Ethan, Sophie is my daughter. She came from my body. That’s an undeniable fact. No matter how hard you tried to keep us apart, you can’t sever the bond of blood.” Sophie pulled out a chair for her at the head of the table, guiding her to sit in a director’s seat. It was a gesture of care she had never once shown me, her own father. I took a deep breath, fighting for composure. I looked at my daughter. “After all these years, after everything I’ve done for you, are you really going to betray me for this woman who walked out on us?” Sophie’s brow furrowed in disgust. “She is my mother. You will not insult her like that.” Mr. Davies, one of the board members, finally spoke up, unable to watch any longer. “Sophie, your mother was clearly in the wrong back then. That’s why Ethan divorced her and removed her from the company. For you to bring her back the moment you take over… that’s a hard pill for anyone to swallow.” Other shareholders around the table nodded in agreement. But Sophie was unmoved. “I could have had a happy, complete family,” she declared, her voice ringing with accusation. “But for the sake of his own pride, he stubbornly threw my mother out. Because of him, kids at school bullied me my entire childhood, calling me the girl with no mom.” “If he had just swallowed his pride for my sake—forgiven her for one mistake—I never would have had to suffer like that.” “He already ruined my childhood. Is he going to ruin my chance to finally heal from it, too?” Her words were a blade, twisting in my heart. All these years, I had never spoken of Lillian in front of Sophie. I wanted to shield her from the hatred, to let her grow up happy and healthy. I never imagined that instead of hating the mother who abandoned her, she would grow to hate me for shattering her fantasy of a perfect family. I dug my nails into my palm, a desperate attempt to hold back the tears stinging my eyes. I pointed a trembling finger at Lillian. “If you have to choose between us, Sophie, right here, right now… who is it?” Sophie was silent for a long moment before her voice, firm and resolute, cut through the tension. “You and Mom are the most important people in my life. If you’re going to be as stubborn as you were twenty years ago and try to tear my family apart again, then I’ll have to do to you what you did to her.” My legs nearly gave out. “What does that mean?” She walked over to me and picked up the contract from the table. “The equity transfer is complete. I’m in charge of the company now.” “Dad,” she said, her voice devoid of warmth. “It’s time for you to step down.” “If you refuse to accept Mom back into our lives, then I’ll have to teach you a lesson. You’re going to experience the same suffering she did for the past twenty years. It’s time you learned what karma feels like.” She closed the folder, completely oblivious to the fact that the signature was incomplete. Suddenly, I felt like I was meeting the child I raised for the very first time. Back then, blind with rage, I had landed a few solid punches on that intern. Lillian, despite being eight months pregnant, had thrown herself in front of him, shielding him like a woman possessed. The struggle ruptured her amniotic sac, and she was rushed to the hospital. After the birth, she screamed from her hospital bed that the baby was a cursed thing, that the sight of it made her sick. She warned me not to even think about using a child to tie her down. She never even asked if it was a boy or a girl, or if it was even alive. She just signed the divorce papers and ran off with her lover without a backward glance. For twenty years, I never mentioned her name. I forbade her from ever coming near Sophie. My daughter shouldn’t have even known a person named Lillian existed. Yet here they were, putting on a show of mother-daughter devotion for the entire board, looking as if they’d known each other for years. I couldn’t piece together where everything had gone wrong, but one thing was terrifyingly clear: there was a traitor in my midst. My eyes swept across the faces in the room, searching for a flicker of malice, of sadistic pleasure. I found nothing. “Fine,” I said, my voice steady. “I can accept Lillian back. On one condition.” Hearing me relent, Sophie’s expression softened instantly. “What is it?” “When did you first find out about her?” Sophie’s eyes lit up, as if she were recalling a cherished memory. “It’s a long story. When I was in elementary school, the other kids would pick on me, saying I was the weird girl with no mom, that they could do whatever they wanted to me.” “One day, a group of them cornered me after school. Mom appeared out of nowhere and saved me. She scared them off, and after that, no one ever bullied me again.” “That’s when I learned the truth. It wasn’t that I didn’t have a mother; she had been watching over me all along, from the shadows.” A tear welled in her eye. “And she couldn’t come home because you, in your selfishness, had cast her out.” I pressed on. “So you recognized each other then? Did she know it was you, or did someone tell her?” I knew Lillian. She couldn’t care less about the child she’d just given birth to, let alone feel a sudden pang of conscience and rush to protect a bullied little girl. A coincidence that perfect could only have been scripted. Someone had been pulling the strings, connecting them. “For that, we have someone very special to thank,” Sophie said, a smile gracing her lips. “And he’s here now.” As she spoke, the conference room doors opened once more. Standing in the doorway was a man in a bespoke suit, radiating an aura of mature, refined confidence. “Godfather!” Sophie cried out, her face breaking into a genuine, happy smile. It was my special assistant, Mark Peterson. For years, he was the one person besides myself I trusted implicitly. He’d been with me through thick and thin. He was my brother in all but blood. Since he never married or had children of his own, I’d asked Sophie to call him her godfather. Mark’s leather-soled shoes clicked against the floor as he walked straight to Sophie’s side. “Is the transfer complete?” Sophie nodded. “Yes. We were just waiting for you to celebrate Mom’s homecoming.” Mark reached out and affectionately ruffled her hair. “Good girl. You did well.” “You were the one who made it possible for Mom and me to reunite,” Sophie said, beaming at him. “You’re the hero of this story. We couldn’t possibly celebrate without you.” Her words shattered what little composure I had left. My voice trembled. “You’re telling me… it was Mark who introduced you to Lillian?” “Yes. Godfather couldn’t bear to see us kept apart. He told me the truth a long time ago.” My gaze, cold as ice, locked onto Mark. “I never thought the one to betray me would be you. You, of all people. You know there’s nothing I hate more than betrayal.” “Don’t make it sound so ugly, Ethan,” he said with a dismissive wave. “I just felt sorry for Sophie, growing up without a mother. Not everyone can be as heartless as you.” I slammed my fist on the table, the sound echoing my collapse. “What did I ever do to you? How have I ever wronged you for you to do this to me?” Mark wasn’t just my colleague; we’d been friends since college. Back then, when he was so broke he was about to drop out, I gave him my allowance to cover his tuition. We survived for months on nothing but cheap bread together. He swore to me then that wherever I went, he’d be there to support me, to repay my kindness. Even when Lillian’s scandal broke, everyone in the company hid it from me. It was Mark who risked his job to tell me the truth. From that day forward, he became the person I trusted most in the world. When his career stalled, I promoted him. I cleared obstacles from his path, gave him power and authority. After me, he had the most influence in the company. When he said he didn’t want a family, I made him a part of mine. I remembered now how Sophie, as a child, would have these strange tantrums, screaming that she hated me, that I was a cruel father. I always assumed it was because my work kept me away, that I wasn’t there for her enough. Now I saw it all. Mark had been poisoning her mind against me, then playing the peacemaker to gain both our trust. My voice was hoarse with disbelief. “You knew everything that happened back then. You knew Lillian was carrying my child when she was messing around in her office. How could you help her get back to my daughter? After what she did, how could you do this to me?” Mark’s face twisted with resentment. “What, you wanted Sophie to live her entire life without a mother? Twenty years was more than enough punishment for Lillian. This day was always going to come.” He gestured around the room. “And now the company is in Sophie’s hands. If you want to live out your days in comfort, you’ll welcome Lillian home.” “The way you say her name… Lillian,” I spat. “What the hell is going on between you two?” A smug, vicious grin spread across his face. He raised his chin, looking down his nose at me. “Well, since we’re laying all our cards on the table…” “Let’s just say the intern wasn’t her only affair back then.” He turned to look at Lillian, his eyes filled with a sickening adoration. The world tilted on its axis. “You two… you were together behind my back all along?” A flicker of pure hatred flashed in Mark’s eyes. “If that new intern hadn’t been so damn brazen, trying to step on my territory, I never would have exposed her in the first place.” I closed my eyes, the pain a physical blow. “I treated you like a brother. Why?” Mark laughed, a cold, bitter sound. “You treated me well? You were always the master, throwing me scraps from your table. You gave me things you had in excess.” “We were supposed to be equals! We both graduated from a top university. I graduated first in our class; you were near the bottom. But you walked straight into a manager position while I had to claw my way up from the mailroom, terrified every single day that I’d be fired.” “Lillian told me she always liked me more. The only reason she chose you was for your family’s money. She wouldn’t have given you a second look otherwise.” His voice rose to a furious shout. “Just because you were born rich, I was supposed to hand over everything that should have been mine. Tell me, Ethan, how is that fair?” “Everything you have now,” I ground out through clenched teeth, “I gave to you!” “Is that all you can do?” he roared back, his face contorted with rage. “Hold your charity over my head? You’re a damned hypocrite, Ethan. You get off on it, don’t you? The feeling of tossing a bone to the less fortunate, having people worship you. But you’re a ruthless, selfish bastard underneath it all.” My body went numb. “This whole thing… you planned this together?” Mark walked to Lillian’s side and wrapped a protective arm around her. “So what if we did?” “The company belongs to Sophie now. Do you have any idea how long we’ve waited for this day?” he sneered. “You have nothing left, Ethan. You can either nod and welcome Lillian home, or you can pack your bags and get out. It’s your turn to see how it feels to suffer.” He kept saying her name, Lillian, and it made my stomach turn. Lillian leaned into his embrace, her face alight with petty victory. “How does it feel, Ethan? To have everyone you trust turn against you and side with me?” I glared at her. “You were the one who cheated! If I were you, I’d be too ashamed to ever show my face again, let alone try to reclaim a daughter you abandoned.” “Enough, Dad!” Sophie cut in. “I know you have no feelings for Mom. I’m not asking you to get back together. I’m just asking you to let her and Godfather be happy.” “If you hadn’t gotten in the way, they would have been married years ago. Since you don’t want her, let Godfather have her. We can still be a family. We can all live together, peacefully.” I laughed, a harsh, broken sound. “A family?” My best friend, one of the men who destroyed my marriage, and now my daughter, the daughter I raised alone for two decades, wants me to give them my blessing. “Let’s all just compromise,” Sophie pleaded. “You accept Mom and Godfather’s relationship, and I’ll support you for the rest of your life.” “What are you saying? If I don’t let these two adulterers have their happy ending, you’ll actually throw me out?” “What happens next is your choice. But I will not let what happened twenty years ago happen again. Anyone who tries to destroy my family will be the one to leave.” She didn’t say it directly, but the threat was clear. I had one option: bless this disgusting union. Otherwise, I would be the villain, the one tearing her “family” apart. And with the company in her hands, she held all the power. One word from her, and I’d be gone. I looked my daughter in the eye, my voice hard as steel. “I will never let them have an easy life.” Hate flashed in Sophie’s eyes. “You have to be this selfish?” “Fine. Then get out of this company. Get out of my house. When you’ve had a change of heart, you can come back.” I leaned back in my chair, a slow, cold smile spreading across my face. “Who leaves is still up for debate.” Mark scoffed. “Get a grip, Ethan. The shares are in Sophie’s name. You have no say here anymore.” I raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?” “Sophie,” I said, my tone shifting to that of a disappointed teacher. “How many times have I told you? Be meticulous. The details are what matter. Don’t let your victory be undone by a simple oversight.” Panic flickered across her face. “What are you talking about?” “If you’d bothered to look at the contract you just closed, you’d know this is far from over.”

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On the first holiday morning, after days of overtime, I was dead asleep. At 2 a.m., an unknown number buzzed me awake. A woman’s sharp voice demanded, “Is this Leo? My Aiden came home yesterday with a full water bottle. Did he not drink?” It took me a second—Aiden, the new intern in the CEO’s office. I politely replied, “It was hectic before the holiday. I’ll remind him to drink water when we’re back.” Five minutes later, she called again. “Aiden’s eyes are dry. Remind him to do eye exercises.” Exhausted, I hung up quickly. It rang instantly. “How dare you hang up? Aiden must rinse with 90°F water after lunch!” she shrieked. I snapped. “We hired an intern, not a god! He’s 26, not 6. Chain him at home if you’re so worried!” Before sunrise, I was summoned to the office. A woman with red lipstick stormed over and slapped me. “My Aiden is CEO Byron Vance’s son,” she yelled. “It’s your privilege to serve him!” I froze. Because I’m Byron Vance. And I had no idea I was married—or had a 26-year-old son. 1 The sharp sting exploded across my cheek, and a firestorm of rage ignited in my chest, threatening to burn me to ash. I lifted my eyes and gave the woman a cold, deliberate once-over. Impressive. In my entire life, no one had ever dared to lay a hand on Byron Vance. I was intensely curious to see who, exactly, had the gall to impersonate me—and invent a wife and son for me out of thin air. My stare seemed to infuriate her further. “What are you looking at?” she screeched. “You’re a lowlife. You think you have the right to glare at me? I ought to gouge your eyes out right now!” My manager, Mr. Davies, rushed over and barked at me, “Leo! Are you mute? Apologize! Now!” He turned to the woman, his face instantly transforming into a mask of fawning servitude. “This is Mrs. Janine Vance, the CEO’s wife and young Mr. Aiden’s mother! If she’s not happy, you can kiss your job goodbye!” After chewing me out, he turned back to her, bowing slightly. “Mrs. Vance, please, calm down. This worthless new hire doesn’t know the rules! For his disrespect, I’ll personally make sure he pays dearly today!” Janine lifted her chin, a contemptuous snort escaping her nostrils. “Does this branch office not vet its hires anymore? You’ll let any riff-raff off the street in here.” “You’re absolutely right, ma’am.” Mr. Davies wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead, practically groveling. “It’s my failure as a manager. I’m so sorry you had to endure this…” “That’s enough,” Janine said, clearly savoring the groveling. She glanced between us, her eyes holding the same detached interest one might have for an ant just before crushing it. “I’m not an unreasonable person,” she said, her gaze landing back on me. “For Mr. Davies’ sake, we’ll let this slide.” Her tone shifted, becoming imperious. “You. From now on, you will be personally responsible for my Aiden.” “You make sure he’s comfortable, and I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.” Mr. Davies immediately chimed in like a trained dog. “Did you hear that, Leo? This is the opportunity of a lifetime! A chance to personally attend to the Crown Prince! Your ancestors must be smiling down on you! Thank Mrs. Vance right now!” Janine nodded, satisfied. She pulled a stack of papers from her purse and began issuing her decrees. “My Aiden has a delicate stomach, so you’ll be cooking all his meals. The food out there is filthy. All ingredients must be certified organic, and his water must be from Fiji. Anything else gives him an upset stomach!” “Also!” she continued without taking a breath, “Aiden must get up and move for ten minutes every hour. You will give him a full-body massage, five minutes per set, with moderate pressure. And his white shirts must be hand-washed, never machine-dried, or he’ll break out in a rash…” She rattled on and on, while Mr. Davies stood by, nodding and bowing as if he were receiving holy scripture. The longer I listened, the colder my smile became. “Hah.” A single, sharp laugh echoed through the dead-silent office. Janine’s condescending expression froze. “What are you laughing at?” she demanded, her voice turning dangerously low. I slowly raised my head, locking my eyes on hers. “I came here to work,” I said, enunciating every word. “Not to babysit a mentally deficient man-child.” “Is he paralyzed? Does he need me to hold it for him when he pees? If he’s that incapable of basic functions, hire a nurse. The fact that you insist he work when he’s that handicapped… it’s a true inspiration, really. A testament to the human spirit.” The air went still. Mr. Davies’ face turned white, the hand he pointed at me trembling. “Leo! Are you… are you insane?” Janine was shaking with fury, jabbing a finger at my nose. “What did you say? You dare repeat that! Do you know how many people are on their knees, begging me for a chance to take care of my Aiden? I’m giving you an honor! A born servant like you was put on this earth to shine our shoes!” Her little speech was so absurd I had to laugh. “Ma’am, what century did you just crawl out of? And on your way out of the crypt, did the coffin lid happen to slam on your head? It would explain why you’re so spectacularly stupid.” “You—!” Janine clutched her chest, her ragged breaths echoing in the silence. Mr. Davies scrambled to her side. “Mrs. Vance, please! Don’t waste your anger on this trash!” She shoved him away, her face a mask of fury. “Fine! Just fine! You want to play tough? You’re fired! Get out! Now!” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Fine by me.” As I turned to leave, I deliberately slowed my pace, glanced back, and added with a small, knowing smile, “I’m just afraid you’ll be crying and begging me to come back later.” “Beg you?” Janine burst out laughing as if I’d told the joke of the century. “Who do you think you are? I said you’re fired, but I never said you could walk out of here!” Her eyes turned to ice. She shot a look at Mr. Davies. He immediately stepped in front of me, playing the loyal attack dog. “Security!” he bellowed toward the door. “Get in here! Block the exit! Don’t let this bastard escape!” Several guards rushed in, surrounding me. “You think you can just stir up trouble and walk away?” I scanned their faces, my fingers curling into fists at my sides. Behind me, Janine’s voice dripped with smug satisfaction. “Scared now? Get on your knees. Apologize properly. Three times, with your head to the floor. Or I’ll make sure you leave Vance Industries horizontally.” “Make me kneel?” I slowly turned back around, a low chuckle escaping my lips as I took in her triumphant, distorted face. “You and what army?” Mr. Davies shoved my shoulder hard. “Leo! What is that attitude? You think you can act like this after disrespecting Mrs. Vance? You’re out of control!” He shot Janine a placating smile. “A punk like you needs to be taught a lesson! Mrs. Vance is telling you to kneel for your own good, so you learn not to cross the wrong people in the future! She is the queen of this company! If you make her happy today, you’ll never have to worry about a job again!” A classic masterclass in manipulation. If I were any other employee, that combination of threats and promises might have been enough to make my legs buckle. Too bad for them. They still hadn’t figured it out. They were the ones who had crossed the wrong person. And that person was me. Byron Vance. I brushed Mr. Davies’ hand off my shoulder and dusted off a speck of non-existent lint. “Don’t try that with me,” I said calmly. “If you think I’m going to bend, you’re dreaming.” At my defiance, Janine’s eyes grew even more venomous. “So, you’ve chosen the hard way. A dog that doesn’t obey needs to be beaten. Once it’s broken, it’ll learn how to wag its tail.” Mr. Davies understood immediately. With a nod from him, the security guards lunged at me from all sides. I was outnumbered. There were too many of them, and I couldn’t fend them all off. In the chaos, a stun baton jabbed hard into the small of my back. A searing jolt of electricity and pain shot through my entire body. My knees buckled, but I dug my nails into my palms, forcing myself to stay upright. “Make him kneel!” Janine commanded. Two guards grabbed my shoulders, forcing me to the ground. I gritted my teeth against the agony, forcing the words out. “You… are… not… worthy!” In the struggle, I managed to pull my wallet from my pocket. With the last of my strength, I whipped out my ID and slapped it across Janine’s face. “Take a good look! See who the hell I really am!” The plastic card shattered her arrogant expression and clattered to the floor. Stunned, Janine bent down and picked it up. When she saw the name and photograph, her eyes widened for a second, then she exploded into a fit of piercing, manic laughter. “Hahahaha! Byron Vance? Your name is Byron Vance, too? You? With that pathetic look on your face? You dare impersonate my husband? You idiot!” I spit out a mouthful of blood and sneered, “I am the CEO of Vance Industries. The sole heir to the Vance family. The one and only Byron Vance.” The laughter died on her lips, her face turning cold. “So that’s your game! You got a fake ID from some back-alley printer and you think you can impersonate my husband? You must have a death wish!” She quickly dialed a number and put it on speaker. “Honey, I’m at your branch office. There’s some lunatic here with a fake ID claiming to be you. You need to get down here and handle this!” A deep, booming male voice immediately answered. “Outrageous! Don’t worry, darling. I’m on my way!” That voice… It was familiar. My stomach dropped, but for the life of me, I couldn’t place it. Before I could speak, Mr. Davies kicked me sharply behind the knee. “Leo! Have you lost your mind? Your name is Leo Shaw, not Mr. Vance! Apologize to Mrs. Vance right now, or when the real CEO gets here, this whole company will go down with you!” Pain shot through my leg, and I stumbled to the floor. But I forced my head up, my gaze like a knife. “I’ll say it one more time. I am Byron Vance. Headquarters is preparing for a merger, and I came here undercover to see how this branch really operates.” My words were met with even more scorn from Janine. “Spoken like true gutter trash. You can’t even spin a convincing lie! You’ve read too many fantasy novels, haven’t you? Started to think you’re the main character?” The smile vanished from her face. “If you’re going to be a con artist, you should pick an easier target. You don’t poke the bear. Today, I’m going to teach you what real power looks like.” She raised a hand, her voice chillingly cold. “Beat him. Beat him until he can’t stand.” “If he dies or ends up crippled, Vance Industries will cover it. Whoever hits him the hardest gets to be the new manager of this office!” The guards swarmed me, fists and feet raining down like hail. Pain and humiliation washed over me, but more than anything, I felt a sense of endless absurdity. Idiots! A bunch of complete idiots! How could anyone believe this charade? A true legacy family would never behave with such crude, theatrical foolishness. I fought back with everything I had left, roaring, “I dare you! Touch me again! I’m calling the police! Let them verify who I am!” Perhaps it was the raw fury in my eyes, but for a moment, they actually hesitated. All except Janine. Her laughter grew louder, more unhinged. “The police? Oh, they’ll come, alright. They’ll come to arrest you. I was going to have you thrown in jail for fraud anyway. But first, you’re going to pay the price for your arrogance.” She leaned in close, her eyes filled with malice. “You have a filthy mouth. I’m going to knock your teeth out, one by one. Let’s see you talk smart after that.” “You dare!” I snarled, my eyes blazing with a terrifying light. “For what you’ve done to me today, the Vance family will never let you go.” My voice was quiet, but it was heavy with absolute certainty. Janine just raised an eyebrow. “The Vance family? Too bad for you, that belongs to my husband. And you? You’re just a pathetic loser with delusions of grandeur.” A flicker of cruel delight crossed her face. She slowly lifted her sharp-heeled shoe and aimed it at my face. “Better luck in the next life.” Psycho! This woman is a complete psycho! How could she be so reckless? Was I actually going to die here? Just as I braced for the impact, the office door was kicked open with a tremendous crash. When I saw who was standing there, my eyes shot wide open in disbelief. It was him.

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The moment I was pulled into the book, I was seven years old, wearing a frilly princess dress and clutching a rapidly melting lollipop. A cold, mechanical voice in my head was delivering its final broadcast. 【User Vivian, you have successfully transmigrated. Identity: The Villainess.】 【Primary Objective: In the three male leads’ childhood, you are to shower them with warmth and kindness. This will alter their perception of you as a villain, allowing you to avoid the future where they join forces to destroy you, leading to your tragic death on the streets.】 【Alert: The male leads’ corruption level has reached 50%. User is advised to take immediate action.】 I licked the sickly-sweet lollipop and stared at the three little boys playing in the sandbox a short distance away, lost in thought. The one on the left, crying the hardest with a bubble of snot inflating at his nostril, was the future’s master of manipulation, Sebastian. Right now, he was just a sniveling crybaby, but he’d grow up to use that innocent face and a masterful victim complex to make the original story’s heroine fall hopelessly, obsessively in love with him. The one in the middle, red-faced and hopping mad because someone had stolen his toy, was the future top-tier gaming streamer, Blaze. He was a hot-tempered brat with a vicious mouth. Now, all he could do was stamp his feet, but as an adult, he’d be a lazy, venomous psycho who could verbally decimate anyone who crossed him. And the one on the right, ostracized from the group and quietly reading a book with a detached expression, was the future brilliant and aloof research scientist, Alistair. A certified genius with a mind like a labyrinth. Now, he was being forced to do other kids’ homework; later, he’d be a cold-blooded tactician who could play with your mind until you didn’t know which way was up. And I, Vivian, was the villainess who, during their childhood, embodied every cruel impulse imaginable, painting their dark pasts with an even blacker brush. My future was to have my family ruined and my life destroyed by these three vengeful men, before being run over by an out-of-control truck on a rainy night. The system urged me, 【User, go! Spread the warmth! Wipe Sebastian’s tears, help Blaze get his toy back, invite Alistair to play with you!】 I looked at them, then at my own small, pink hands, and a brilliant idea sparked in my mind. Spread the warmth? What a joke. In stories like this, a helping hand in a crisis is always remembered more than a pat on the back in good times. But… what if I’m the crisis? When they finally clawed their way to the top, the person seared most deeply into their memories would still be me, wouldn’t it? Instead of trying to win over three people destined to hate me, I might as well commit to the role. If I was crazier than them, if I pushed them harder than anyone else, they’d never be able to forget me. So, as the system watched in digital shock, I took off on my stubby little legs and charged. First, I snatched the last half of a cookie from Sebastian’s hand. As his eyes welled up with fresh tears, I leaned in and sank my teeth into his soft cheek, leaving a perfect, pink set of teeth marks. “Stop crying!” I mumbled around the cookie. “Cry again and I’ll bite you again!” Sebastian’s wails choked off instantly. He clutched his cheek, his big eyes shimmering with unshed tears, but he didn’t dare let another one fall. He looked like a terrified little fawn, and it was… ridiculously easy to bully him. Next, I planted my foot squarely on Blaze’s backside. He stumbled and went sprawling face-first into the sandbox, getting a mouthful of gritty sand. I picked up the limited-edition Optimus Prime he’d dropped and, over his enraged roars, twisted its head off with a sickening snap of plastic. “So noisy! Toy’s confiscated!” Finally, I marched over to Alistair. I slapped my workbook down on top of the book he was reading and planted my hands on my hips, mimicking the bullies from TV. “Hey, nerd. You’re doing my homework today. You’re not going home until it’s done.” Alistair looked up, his unnervingly calm eyes meeting mine. He said nothing. His stare made my skin crawl, but I couldn’t lose momentum. I’d filched a leather strap from my dad’s toolbox earlier. I pulled it out and snapped it against my leg with a sharp crack. “You hear me? Or do you want a taste of this?” Alistair’s gaze flickered to the strap for a single second before he silently dragged my workbook toward him. 【Alert! Alert! Male lead corruption levels are skyrocketing! Sebastian: 70%! Blaze: 75%! Alistair: 80%!】 【System has detected user behavior severely deviating from the primary objective! Initiating emergency protocol… Protocol failure! System… system entering dormant mode…】 The mechanical voice in my head dissolved into a crackle of static and then fell silent. Peace and quiet. I looked with satisfaction at the three little boys, all fuming but too scared to do anything. Suddenly, my tragic future didn’t seem so terrifying anymore. From that day on, my reign of terror lasted a decade. My daily routine involved making Sebastian cry, then luring him into the woods and telling him I’d only return his favorite hairclip if he barked three times like a dog. I drew turtles on Blaze’s brand-new sneakers, stole the game cartridge he’d waited in line all night for, and then stood under his window with a megaphone shouting, “Blaze wets the bed!” I smeared ink all over Alistair’s lab reports, forced him to take my place in the advanced Mathletes competition I was failing, and once, when my dad was out of town, I even stole his belt and threatened Alistair to finish building my Lego castle in under ten minutes. They were like my three pathetic little pets. Sebastian went from howling, to silent tears, to simply freezing up whenever he saw me, his eyes red and his hands clutching the hem of his shirt like a cornered rabbit. Blaze went from explosive rage, to screaming matches with me, to eventually just glaring with a dark, simmering hatred that promised he’d one day eat me alive. And Alistair… he was always the quietest. No matter what I did, he accepted it in silence, his deep, unreadable eyes just watching me, occasionally sending a shiver of unease down my spine. Time flew, and puberty hit us all like a truck. The three of them shot up in height as if on fast-forward, their faces sharpening into handsome, defined lines. Sebastian was still the gentle, harmless-looking one, with two shallow dimples that made him the dream crush of every girl in school. Blaze dyed his hair a rebellious crimson and became the infamous school bad boy, an unbeatable gaming legend. Alistair became the untouchable academic god, permanently ranked number one, his aura growing colder and more distant with each passing year. They were no longer the little boys I could easily push around. I could feel the flames of vengeance building. In the school hallways, I constantly felt three sets of eyes on me—one full of resentment, one cold with malice, one dissecting me with unnerving focus. I knew the good times were over. A direct confrontation was out of the question; what could one girl do against three guys who were all over six feet tall? So, I switched tactics. From the arrogant, tyrannical villainess, I became the pitiful, misunderstood victim. I started by getting on their parents’ good side. I went over to Blaze’s house and “happened” to walk in on his mom tearing him a new one for skipping school to play video games. I immediately pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from my bag (pre-planted, of course) and said, my voice thick with heartbreak, “Auntie, please don’t blame Blaze! It’s my fault for not keeping a better eye on him. He’s been hanging out with some bad crowds, and he’s started smoking and getting into fights… I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t listen…” Blaze, standing right there, went beet-red with rage, pointing at me and sputtering, unable to form a single word. His mom, seeing his reaction as proof, believed me instantly. She nearly broke his legs and grounded him for a month. Next, Alistair. I arrived at his house to find his parents worrying about his reclusive personality. With a look of deep concern, I pulled out a book titled Understanding Adolescent Psychological Disorders and flipped to the chapter on “Antisocial Personality Disorder.” “Auntie,” I said, pointing. “Look. Alistair is always alone, he never talks, and his eyes are so… cold. I’m not saying there’s a problem, I’m just… worried. Maybe this book could help?” His parents reacted as if I’d handed them a live grenade. The next day, they hired eight different therapists to put him through a week-long psychological blitz. I heard Alistair’s mood was blacker than coal for that entire week. But my masterpiece was Sebastian. I knew his mother was very traditional. I “casually” mentioned to her, “Auntie, has Seb picked up any new hobbies lately? The other day, I saw him hiding this really pretty lace dress… I thought it was a gift for me, but he blushed and snatched it away. I mean, it’s fine for a boy to have a unique sense of style, it’s just… a little different, you know?” His mom exploded. She tore his room apart and, although she never found the dress, Sebastian’s wardrobe from that day forward contained only three colors: black, white, and grey. My plans were a resounding success. The three of them were so swamped with parental supervision and psychological evaluations that they had no time to bother me. I thought I was in the clear. Until one afternoon, when they cornered me in the alley behind the school. The setting sun cast their shadows long and dark, making them look like three insurmountable mountains. Blaze had his hands in his pockets, a roguish smirk on his face, but his eyes were pure ice. Alistair leaned against the wall, fiddling with a metal lighter, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. Sebastian stood in front, still looking gentle, but with a chilling curve to his lips. “Vivian,” Blaze said, his voice a lazy drawl. “Done playing games?” “What?” I immediately switched to victim mode, my eyes instantly welling with tears. My voice was soft and trembling. “Blaze… what are you guys doing? You’re scaring me…” “Scaring you?” Blaze scoffed. “You weren’t scared when you were snitching on me to my mom.” “I… I was just trying to help you!” I choked out, on the verge of tears. “I don’t want to see you go down the wrong path…” “Is that so?” Alistair spoke, his voice quiet but sharp. He stepped forward and tossed the psychology book at my feet. “Was this ‘for my own good’ too?” I froze, then let a single, perfect tear roll down my cheek. “Alistair, I was just so worried about you… You never smile, and I was afraid you were… unhappy inside…” My gaze shifted to my final trump card: Sebastian. I sniffled, my voice filled with the pain of someone betrayed by the world. “Seb… you’re not going to misunderstand me too, are you? I only act this way because… because you’re my best friend. I care about you more than anyone.” As I spoke, I subtly edged toward the alley’s entrance. I knew the student prefects patrolled this area around this time. Sebastian just watched me, his gaze steady. Just as Blaze and Alistair were about to lose their patience, he stepped forward and grabbed my wrist. His hand was cold, but his grip was like steel. “Let go of me!” I shrieked, struggling frantically as the tears flowed freely. “What are you doing? Help! Somebody help!” “Vivian,” Sebastian’s voice was soft, but it carried clearly to all of us. “I know why you do these things. It’s all because you’re in love with me, isn’t it?” I froze. What? Blaze and Alistair were stunned into silence.

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The morning we were supposed to elope for our destination wedding, my fiancée finally rushed to the airport from her office. But a second before boarding, she got an urgent message from her male secretary. “I’m so sorry, darling,” she said, her face a mask of professional regret. “A massive project just came up at the company, and I have to be the one to sign off on it.” “Could you go on ahead without me? I promise, I’ll handle everything in a few days and fly out to meet you.” It was disappointing, but work was work. I told her I understood. As soon as she was gone, I tore up my ticket. I decided I’d go have a look for myself. I was intensely curious about which company was so blind as to be negotiating a “massive project” with the figurehead CEO of a corporation that I had, just that morning, fully repossessed. Especially since they dared to bypass me—the actual owner—to do it. 1 I followed her all the way to the luxury hotel I’d bought for her when we first started dating, a place worth a hundred million dollars. The welcome sign near the entrance almost blinded me. 【Congratulations on the wedding of Ms. Chloe Jensen & Mr. Tom Vance】 Next to it was a professionally shot wedding portrait. Chloe, radiant in a white gown, was smiling brightly. But the man with his arm around her wasn’t me, her fiancé. It was her male secretary, Tom—the one who’d just texted her about that “massive project.” It all clicked into place. No wonder when we’d discussed getting married, she said she was tired of all the fake corporate schmoozing and didn’t want a big, phony ceremony. All she wanted was a quiet destination wedding with me. It turned out she’d had someone else lined up for the wedding photos, the grand ceremony, and the marriage license all along. Before walking into the hotel, I made a quick phone call. I found a table with the best view of the proceedings and sat down just as the master of ceremonies began. Chloe’s father walked her down the aisle, her hand on his arm, and they stopped right next to my table. Tom approached from the other end of the aisle, holding out his hand to her. The moment her father placed her hand in Tom’s, just before their fingers could intertwine, I kicked Chloe hard in the shins, sending her sprawling face-first onto the floor. Her veil flew off, and her bouquet scattered across the pristine white runner. The force of her fall even took Tom down with her. Chloe, sprawled at my feet, was about to let loose a stream of curses, but then she looked up and saw me. The blood in her veins seemed to turn to ice. Tom kept whining for her to help him up, but she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him. I looked down at her, panicked and scrambling on the floor. “What’s with the grand gesture?” I asked coolly. “Are you bowing to me for a wedding gift?” The sound of my voice made Tom’s head snap in my direction. His face went pale with terror. He instinctively tried to crawl behind Chloe to hide, but her father grabbed him by the collar. Chloe’s father, a shrewd look in his eyes, pointed a finger at me and bellowed loud enough for the entire hall to hear, “You shameless homewrecker! You just don’t give up, do you? I thought I already threw you out! How did you get in here?” His words made every head in the room turn toward me. “Look at that weaselly face. No wonder he’s the other man.” “Chloe’s a stand-up girl. She’s been devoted to Tom her whole life. This guy never stood a chance.” “They’ve been childhood sweethearts since they were kids, started dating in middle school. The second Chloe made it big, she brought Tom to the city to live the good life, even made him an executive to help run her company. What kind of trash are you, trying to get between them? Take a good look at yourself.” Childhood sweethearts. Dating since middle school. Perfect. I nodded slowly. Chloe had pursued me relentlessly from the moment we started college. It wasn’t until our senior year that her persistence finally wore me down, and I agreed to be with her. Which meant that today, the day of our elopement, was the day I discovered I’d been the other man for three years. And why would she, a woman so deeply in love with her childhood sweetheart, chase after me? The answer was obvious. It was for my status as the son of a billionaire and a pop superstar. For my money, the kind you couldn’t spend in a dozen lifetimes. Just perfect. I nudged her with the toe of my shoe. “So, you agree? I’m the one who broke you two up?” Chloe’s face was a mess of guilt. She shook her head frantically, about to offer some pathetic explanation, but Tom suddenly shrieked and threw himself on top of her. “Chloe, are you okay?!” he cried, hugging her tight while shooting her a series of frantic, meaningful glances. Their eyes met for a moment. Chloe slowly regained her composure, a calculated glint appearing in her eyes. Seeing Chloe on the floor, the room full of her family and friends erupted in outrage. “Who the hell do you think you are, hitting her?” one man shouted, rolling up his sleeves and raising a fist as if to strike me. “Wait,” Chloe said, her voice suddenly firm, all traces of her earlier fear gone. “Julian,” she said, looking straight at me. “I’ve told you time and time again to leave me alone. I’ve made it clear that my heart belongs to someone else. Today is my wedding day, and I will not let anyone ruin what I’ve prepared for Tom. Leave now, before I have security throw you out.” I met her gaze with a cold smile. “Chloe, have you forgotten who owns this hotel? On what authority do you get to throw me out? Or do you think if I leave, all your dirty little secrets will just disappear?” Tom stepped forward, clutching her hand. “Julian, my friend, I know you’ve always had feelings for Chloe. It must be hard seeing us get married. But she’s always loved me. You can’t force these things. We’re married now. I hope you can respect that and leave her alone.” Honestly, I wasn’t surprised. It was because I’d discovered their affair that I’d decided to take back the company I had funded, staffed, and built for her from the ground up. And she still had no idea. I had originally planned to give her one last chance, worried that my actions were too ruthless. Looking at her now, I realized I’d been far too generous. I was about to slap the company repossession documents on her face when her father’s eyes darted around, and he deliberately raised his voice. “Oh, I remember now! You’re that secretary from her office she told me about! The one who’s always trying to make a move on her!” I almost laughed. I nudged Chloe’s foot again. “What world are you living in? Me, your secretary? Your father doesn’t even know what his own son-in-law does for a living?” Before the words were even out of my mouth, a man at a nearby table spit a mouthful of peanut shells in my face. The entire room roared with laughter. “You’re a kept man, a parasite, and you didn’t even bother to research your sugar mama? Chloe is a multi-millionaire CEO! She owns countless companies, luxury cars, mansions! You see this hotel? This massive, opulent hotel belongs to her!” “And don’t even get me started on Tom. He not only manages all of Chloe’s businesses, but he’s also closed countless multi-million-dollar deals for her, single-handedly turning her company into a global powerhouse.” Tom managed her company? Tom closed her deals? Tom made her a global powerhouse? It was me who poured tens of millions of my own allowance into her ventures. I was the one who leveraged my parents’ connections to build her network. I was the one who debased myself at endless cocktail parties to secure her one project after another. I was the one who stayed up for countless nights, guiding her through every step, and more often than not, doing the work myself because her vision was too narrow and her experience non-existent. Without my help, Chloe, a poor girl from the countryside who couldn’t even afford college tuition, would have needed generations of her family to work themselves to the bone to achieve a fraction of what she has today. Someone in the crowd, annoyed by my defiant silence, chimed in. “See, Chloe, this is what happens when you’re too soft on your employees. A secretary gets a little brave and thinks he can crash your wedding. If it were me, I’d have him fired on the spot. Teach him his place.” The sentiment was echoed around the room. Chloe looked at me as if she were actually admonishing a subordinate. “After a scene like this, I obviously can’t keep you on as my secretary. But, considering you’ve been with the company for so long, I’ll transfer you to a branch office. I won’t leave you completely jobless. But if you push it, don’t blame me when you’re out on the street.” Her “magnanimity” earned a round of applause. “Chloe’s a true leader! So forgiving, even to a man like this.” I, however, was not impressed. I let out a cold laugh. “Fire me? Go on, then. Fire me. I’d love to see you try.” Someone immediately shot back with a sneer. “Of course he’s not afraid of being fired. He can just go sell himself somewhere else. A secretary’s salary is nothing compared to that, right?” A wave of lecherous understanding washed over the room. A shirtless, greasy man stared at me, practically drooling. “Nice body, kid. You up for anything? What’s your price? I can’t pay what those rich folks do, but I’m a relative of the bride. How about a family discount?” My expression turned thunderous. I stared at Chloe. “Are you really going to let this happen? You’re going to stand there and let them humiliate me like this?” Chloe hesitated for a moment, then turned her face away. “Tom is my husband. My conscience is clear. If you leave now, this can all be over.” Tom’s face was a mask of smug victory. “Julian, my friend, I know you’re just upset because you’ve ruined your own reputation and gotten nothing out of it. Normally, a generous person like Chloe might not mind giving you some money to go away, but you chose our wedding day to make a scene. Even after all this, she’s not firing you. Hasn’t she been kind enough? Doesn’t your conscience hurt at all?” As he spoke, Tom began to cry, fat tears of “pity” for Chloe rolling down his cheeks. She immediately pulled out a tissue to dab his eyes. I’d had enough of their performance. I lashed out with my foot, kicking Tom square in the back. He yelped and tumbled into Chloe’s arms. “Julian, have you lost your mind?!” Chloe shrieked. Seeing Tom hurt, she flew into a rage and slapped me across the face with all her strength. The blow sent me staggering back into a dining table. I was covered in food and greasy sauces, but worse, the hot dishes scalded my skin through my thin summer shirt, leaving angry red welts. Chloe didn’t even seem to notice. She cradled Tom protectively and snarled at me, “Apologize to him. Now. Or this isn’t over.” Tom’s eyes danced with triumph. I pushed myself up, my body trembling with pain and rage. The blistering burns on my exposed arms were a gruesome, mocking testament to the so-called love I’d wasted all these years. The searing pain intensified, but my voice grew colder. “Chloe, you hid your relationship with him while dating me for three years. You married him in the very hotel I bought you, on the day you were supposed to marry me. And now you want me to apologize to him?” “Have I given you everything you’ve ever wanted for so long that you actually think you can walk all over me? Do you have any idea how fast I can make you lose everything?” For a moment, my words stunned her into silence. Whispers broke out among the guests. “Did he just say they’ve been together for three years? And that this was supposed to be their wedding day? And that he gave her the hotel? Could that be true?” “No way. We all watched Chloe grow up. We know what kind of person she is. He’s just making it all up.” “Yeah, right, he owns the hotel. Next he’ll say he owns her company too.” Then, a quiet female voice piped up. “But… I’ve seen his clothes online. It’s a really, really expensive designer brand. I’ve never even seen Tom wear anything like it…” Tom immediately shot the girl a furious glare. “You’ve never even been to the city before, what do you know about quality? We’re from the same village! How can you take his side?” The girl shrank back, silenced. Satisfied, Chloe raised her and Tom’s hands into the air, showing off the brilliant, matching wedding bands on their fingers. She looked down at me, as if I were a thoroughly defeated enemy. “Julian, you say today was our wedding day. Do you have any proof? My parents, my entire family… none of them have ever met you. If I were really marrying you, don’t you think I would have introduced you to them?” “Besides, do we have a marriage license? Did we take wedding photos? Did I give you a wedding gift? You need evidence to make claims like that. And I’ve given all of those things to my Tom.” Tom snuggled against her shoulder, his smile triumphant. “That’s right, Julian. You need to be careful what you say.” Her words sealed my fate in their eyes. I had no rebuttal. In my foolishness, in my love for her, I had asked for nothing. I had everything I needed, and I thought she was all that mattered. I never imagined that love would become the blade she’d use to stab me in the heart. The entire hotel was now buzzing with condemnation. “A homewrecker, caught in the act! Now you’ve got nothing to say for yourself!” “We can’t just let him go! He needs to be taught a lesson!” Someone grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me to the ground. Tom’s father gave a subtle nod to the shirtless, greasy man. The man bent down, a lewd grin on his face, and grabbed my stomach. “Being the other man isn’t very nice, little brother. Uncle here is going to have to teach you a lesson today.” I cried out, struggling to get away, but my arms and legs were pinned down. Fear, cold and absolute, washed over me. I screamed Chloe’s name, hoping for a shred of decency, a flicker of conscience that would make her stop this. Her eyes widened, and for a second, she looked like she was about to intervene. But then Tom pulled her back. “He ruined our wedding,” he whispered. “I’m not happy. I just want to teach him a little lesson.” Chloe hesitated. “But…” “Just a little one. You know our people. They know when to stop. Besides, we’re right here. What could possibly happen?” Chloe said nothing more. Tom wrapped his arms around her, and she numbly patted his back as more men and women began to grope and paw at me. “Get off me! This is assault! You’ll go to jail for this!” A slap from an unseen hand made my head ring. “A whore like you gets passed around anyway! What right do you have to accuse us? This isn’t assault, it’s justice!” A flood of filth and insults washed over me. Just as I gave in to despair, a voice boomed from the entrance. “My apologies for being late, everyone, I had some business to attend to…” The voice trailed off as the man saw me on the floor. His tone shifted to pure horror. “Stop! What in God’s name are you doing?!”

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When our R&D Director Marcus Vance publicly accused me—again—of trapping him as a “baby daddy,” I didn’t argue. I calmly rejected his purchase order, stating “department funds exhausted.” He stormed over. “The budget was just approved! Where’s the money, Reed?” I ignored him, approving an operations team order right in front of him while rejecting his again. Furious, he dragged our boss Henderson into it. “She’s sabotaging a million-dollar project! If she stays, I quit!” Amid the tension, I pulled out my resignation letter. Marcus grinned triumphantly. Then I handed Henderson a stack of R&D project quotes. His smile vanished. He went pale. … Maybe he thought my silent defiance was a direct challenge to his authority. Marcus snatched the documents from my hand and flung them into the air. Papers fluttered down around me like dead leaves. The office fell dead silent. Every eye was on me, a chorus of whispers rising from the cubicles. “Did your ex-husband take your brain with him when he left?” Marcus sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. “You dare to reject my purchase order?” He leaned against my desk, a smug thug, tapping his index finger on the surface. Tap. Tap. Tap. “Let me ask you something,” he said, raising his voice so everyone could hear. “The new budget just came in, and you’re telling me it’s gone? I wonder if someone’s been using company funds to buy baby formula.” I didn’t react, didn’t even look at him. I calmly bent down to pick up the scattered papers, even the one he was stepping on. “The R&D department’s discretionary fund has, in fact, been depleted,” I said, my voice even. “I can’t process the payment. If it’s urgent, you can seek special approval from senior management.” My calm response seemed to throw him off. He shot a glare at the gawking colleagues around us, his tone shifting to a low threat. “It’s Jenna, right? I’m giving you one last chance. Think very carefully before you speak.” I slowly rose to my feet and offered a faint smile. “It’s Ms. Reed, Marcus. And you can give me a thousand chances. The answer will still be the same. No funds, no approval.” He clearly hadn’t expected me to push back so directly. His face contorted with fury, and he pointed a finger right at my nose. “Who the hell do you think you are? You’re just a glorified shopper, and now you’re on a power trip!” he bellowed. “The company allocates a hundred thousand dollars to my department every month! It was just deposited ten minutes ago! And you’re telling me it’s gone? Do your damn job or get the hell out!” His voice escalated into a full-blown roar. My colleagues shrank in their seats, not daring to breathe. I remained silent through his tirade. I simply turned and accepted a new purchase order from the Admin department. Right there, in front of him, I submitted it for payment. Less than three minutes later, the confirmation receipt from Finance pinged in my inbox. That single action sent Marcus over the edge. “Jenna, what the hell is your problem?” he shrieked. “You just said there was no money! How can you approve Admin’s request but not mine?” He stepped closer, invading my personal space. “I work my ass off day and night for this company’s products! What are you? A nobody with a little bit of power, using it to screw me over. You better give me a damn good explanation, or I swear to God, you’ll regret this.” Seeing him about to explode, a few of his sycophantic underlings scurried over to play peacemaker. “Easy, Marcus. Don’t let her get to you,” one of them said with a sneer in my direction. “You know what they say—’mommy brain’ is a real thing. Don’t waste your energy on someone like that.” A few others, people I’d once considered friendly, chimed in. “Some people just can’t handle their own miserable lives. Divorced with a kid, so they think the whole world owes them.” “Seriously. Does she think she’s eighteen again, looking for a meal ticket?” “Yeah, well, her personal vendetta is going to screw us all. If this project gets delayed, I can’t even pay my rent…” I quietly organized the papers I’d picked up, my fingers tapping away on my calculator. Click, click, clack. When the final number was entered, I looked up at Marcus, my voice still perfectly level. “Marcus, the items on the Admin department’s order were all priced below market average. Furthermore, they were using their own unspent budget rolled over from last month. Per company policy, their request was eligible for immediate approval.” I held up his signed purchase order. “Your department’s request, on the other hand, is not only marked up by eighty percent, but your budget was already in the red from last month. Therefore,” I delivered the final blow, “all procurement requests from your department will be rejected. Not just for this month, but for the entire quarter.” The quiet hum of the office was suddenly replaced by the frantic clatter of keyboards as every single person who had been watching the drama pretended to be absorbed in their work. No one could believe it. Me—a divorced new mom with no connections, no seniority—had just openly defied the untouchable Director of R&D. Everyone knew Marcus was the boss’s golden boy. He answered to no one but Mr. Henderson and treated every other department like his personal fiefdom. He never imagined he’d be publicly humiliated by a junior employee in the middle of her lactation period—an employee whose name he could barely remember. He glared at me, his eyes filled with venom, before storming off. The door to his corner office slammed with a thunderous crack that echoed through the entire floor. Down below, my coworkers exchanged uneasy glances. A few colleagues who had also been bullied by Marcus in the past sent me private messages, urging me to apologize. Jobs are hard to find… You have a child to think about… Just smooth it over. Apologize? For what? It’s true that I got divorced while on maternity leave. It’s also true that I was transferred to the procurement department just two months ago when I returned to work. But from the moment I took over purchasing for R&D, I realized their books were a complete disaster. At first, they took advantage of my inexperience, sneaking everything from toilet paper for their department bathroom to personal snacks onto their purchase orders. I was the one who got chewed out for it. Then, they started using the excuse of “urgent project needs” to get me to pay for things out of my own pocket. It began with a friendly, manipulative tone. “Jenna, this project is critical, we’re just missing this one component. Could you please just front the money for it? I’ll sign off on the expense report next month, and you’ll get it back from the R&D budget. I promise.” I was soft-hearted. I believed him. I mean, why would a high-level director go out of his way to cheat a single mom with a new baby? But when I brought him the receipts for reimbursement, he acted like he had no idea what I was talking about. After that happened a few times, I saw him for who he really was. When his team tried to get me to front money again, I refused flat out. That’s when he started using my performance reviews to threaten me. “Jenna, raising a kid on your own must be tough financially,” he’d say with a fake smile. “Just keep up the good work, and I’ll put in a good word for you with Mr. Henderson. Promotion, raise, you name it. But if the project gets delayed… well, don’t say I didn’t warn you. Pay for what needs to be paid for. You’ll get every penny back when the project funds come through.” He talked a good game, but he still owed me for a three-hundred-dollar consumable he’d promised to reimburse months ago. Just yesterday, when I approached him again about signing my expense form, he didn’t just yell at me in front of the entire office—he twisted the story and accused me of trying to seduce him. “You were the one who was so eager to pay for me, weren’t you?” he’d sneered. “I thought your intentions were suspicious from the start, but I let it slide for the sake of the project. But you? You’re always looking for a shortcut. If you put half the energy you spend chasing me over a few hundred bucks into your work, maybe you wouldn’t be a divorced mother right now.” I trembled with a rage so pure it felt like ice in my veins. I couldn’t believe a man in his position could be so shamelessly vile. To date, I had fronted over a thousand dollars for the R&D department, much of it on my credit card. Meanwhile, because he’d had me transferred, my salary had been cut in half when I returned from leave. I was struggling to support my parents and my baby. The formula was almost gone. My mortgage was three months overdue. If I didn’t get that money back, my family would be out on the street. The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I spent all night digging through historical purchasing contracts, compiling a detailed list of every procurement Marcus had overseen. What I found was staggering. Underneath the veneer of legitimate contracts and invoices was a cesspool of massively inflated prices. Worse, many of the specified high-grade materials had been swapped out for cheap substitutes. I cross-referenced the purchase orders with the actual delivery inspection reports. The rot in this R&D project went far deeper than I could have ever imagined. Marcus thought I was just some clueless new mom he could walk all over. He even started a rumor that I was obsessed with him, that I was using the reimbursements as an excuse to harass him after he’d rejected my advances. That’s why this morning, he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for the money he owed me. He felt entitled. Arrogant. From his office, I could hear his booming voice, a mix of furious rant and whiny complaints to Mr. Henderson. Everyone was whispering, waiting for the show to begin. But I was waiting, too. Waiting for Marcus to push it too far. Waiting for him to play with fire and burn his whole world to the ground. His obsequious, ass-kissing voice drifted down from the office. Everyone knew how this would end. It was an open-and-shut case. Marcus would win, effortlessly. The atmosphere in the office began to shift. The colleague who used to eat lunch with me suddenly had to “work overtime” when I invited her, but I later saw her laughing with the new intern from R&D in the cafeteria. At lunchtime, I always ended up at the back of the line. Just as it was my turn, a group of R&D engineers would cut in front of me. “Must be nice to just clock out for lunch,” one would say loudly. “Unlike us workhorses who have to fight for every second.” “Leave her alone,” another would add with a smirk. “She’s got to breastfeed. If she doesn’t eat on time, the milk will dry up!” Then they would all look at my chest and erupt in loud, vulgar laughter. I’d clench my jaw and say nothing. By the time I finally got to the front, there was nothing left but scraps and watery soup. As soon as I sat down, the cleaning lady would come over and start aggressively wiping my table with a greasy rag, right next to my plate, huffing with disdain. This was just the beginning of Marcus’s campaign. When I returned to my desk, it was buried under a mountain of purchase requests, both urgent and trivial. The intern stood there, holding another thick pile of files, an arrogant look on her face. “Jenna, Marcus said he needs a full report on the supplier qualifications for all products purchased in the last three years. He needs it by the end of the day for a presentation tomorrow.” The whispers and snickers from the surrounding desks followed me. Day after day, the verbal abuse didn’t stop. My silence only seemed to encourage them. Within a week, I’d gone from “the divorced mom” to “the desperate office slut who throws herself at any man who looks her way.” They started openly commenting on my body. “How can she eat that much? Does she think she’s a sow for milking?” “You don’t get it. It’s an excuse to slack off. She goes to the pumping room, locks the door, and disappears for half the day. Who knows what she’s really doing in there?” “Look at those two sad, deflated sacks on her chest. No wonder her husband left her. It’s enough to make you sick.” It didn’t stop there. Trash—fruit peels and crumpled paper—started appearing on my desk. In the wide hallway, people would “accidentally” bump into me, hard. I was called into more and more pointless meetings about my work, with other departments making increasingly bizarre and impossible demands. My desk phone, with its dedicated extension, started ringing with obscene calls. “Fifty bucks an hour. You available?” Marcus thought he could break me, force me to quit. But I played deaf and dumb. The more he harassed me, the more flawlessly I did my job. And the calmer I remained, the more furious he became. Finally, after another week passed and he still hadn’t received my resignation, he snapped. Mr. Henderson returned from his business trip. Not five minutes later, Marcus was scurrying into his office, laptop in hand. The storm was about to break. Sure enough, half an hour later, Marcus emerged from the office like a preening rooster that had just won a cockfight. He announced an emergency, all-hands-on-deck meeting. I was at the front desk picking up a package of supplier invoices and missed the announcement. By the time I arrived, every single person in the conference room was staring at me. Before Mr. Henderson could even speak, Marcus launched his attack. “See, Mr. Henderson? It’s bad enough that she intentionally slows down all of our R&D work, but now she can’t even be bothered to show up to your meetings on time. The company’s generous policies for female employees? She’s exploiting every single one of them to slack off!” Mr. Henderson, fiddling with a string of wooden beads, frowned deeply. “Jenna Reed, is it?” His voice was low but heavy with anger. I didn’t answer. “Why is it that every simple purchase for the R&D department becomes a major drama the second it crosses your desk?” he demanded. “Our key projects are stalled because you can’t get them the materials they need. Our top engineers are threatening to quit because they aren’t getting their project bonuses! This market is a battlefield! Every day you delay is another day you’re handing an advantage to our competitors!” He slammed the string of beads onto the table. They scattered, clattering across the polished wood and onto the floor with a deafening rattle. “This company pays you for eight hours a day. Have I ever shorted any of you on your paychecks?” he roared. “Our frontline teams are bleeding to win us this market share, and you’re going to throw it all away because of some internal ‘procedure’ or ‘budget limit’? Are you all fresh out of grade school? Do I really need to spell this out?” He never said my name, but every word was a bullet aimed directly at me. Across the table, Marcus was on his knees, piously picking up the scattered beads, shooting me a look of pure, malicious triumph. I suddenly felt so tired. This company, so rotten from the inside that its leaders couldn’t see the truth. The “hard-working frontline engineers” he was defending had already hollowed it out like termites. And I, the one holding the line, was getting screamed at. Fine. I let out a long, quiet sigh and answered calmly. “Understood, Mr. Henderson. I know what to do now.” My compliance seemed to please him. His tone softened slightly. “It’s good for young people to be driven. You should learn from Marcus here. Be more tactful in how you handle things.” I nodded numbly and turned to leave. The long-running drama, a performance I had endured for weeks, was finally reaching its curtain call. But then, Marcus’s voice stopped me. “Wait! For the damage you’ve caused our team, I demand that you publicly apologize to us. Now.” “Apologize?” For a second, I thought I’d misheard. But then I saw Mr. Henderson give a subtle, permissive nod. The room erupted in a low buzz of whispers, contempt, and ridicule that washed over me like a tidal wave. The people who had bullied me, isolated me, insulted me, and spread disgusting rumors about me were now demanding an apology. From me. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug into my palms, forcing myself to stay calm. Seeing my hesitation, Marcus put on a show of being deeply wounded. “Mr. Henderson, just because I didn’t want to be a father to her child, she sabotages my work. Is it too much to ask for an apology? I’m being magnanimous here, letting it go with just an apology, but look at her attitude!” He puffed out his chest, delivering the ultimatum. “I’m putting it all on the line. She apologizes right now, or either she walks, or I walk!” In the tense silence that followed, I stepped forward and placed the resignation letter I had prepared on the conference table. Marcus broke into a triumphant smirk. But when I immediately followed it with a thick stack of R&D project quotes for Mr. Henderson, the smirk vanished. His face went pale.

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The ninety-ninth time Asher and I tried to get married, his ditzy little assistant, Chloe, got her high heel stuck in a sewer grate and called him, sobbing, for rescue. Asher’s hand, just about to place the ring on my finger, froze. He turned to leave. I grabbed his arm, my voice a desperate whisper. “My grandfather doesn’t have much time left. Please, Asher, don’t go.” According to my family’s bylaws, I had to be married before I could inherit my grandfather’s billion-dollar fortune. Asher knew this. He knew my grandfather’s last wish was to see me happily married. And yet, he tossed the ring into the crowd of wedding guests, letting them scramble for it like animals. “She’s a scatterbrain,” he said, his voice cold. “She can’t manage without me.” He glanced back at me, a condescending smirk on his lips. “You go find the ring like a good girl. By the time you find it, I’ll be back.” He walked away without a second glance. But I saw it. I saw the message he typed into his group chat with his friends. 【Make sure she never finds that ring. Throw it away if you have to.】 Later, when Asher returned to the reception carrying a barefoot Chloe in his arms, he tried to place the ring back on my finger with the same hands he’d just used to massage her feet. I flinched away. “Something this cheap,” I said, my voice dangerously calm, “is a much better match for people who are even cheaper.” … Asher’s face froze. Right on cue, tears welled up in Chloe’s eyes. “It’s all my fault,” she whimpered, her voice saccharine sweet. “I’m such a klutz. I’ve ruined my big sister’s wedding again.” “I’m so, so sorry. Let me make it up to you, okay?” She squirmed out of Asher’s arms and took a step toward me, then promptly tripped over her own feet and face-planted on the marble floor. A few snickers rippled through the wedding hall. Asher’s face darkened like a thundercloud. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my skin like vices. “Kath, you know Chloe is clumsy. Why would you humiliate her like that?” he hissed. “Does it make you happy to see her hurt? You will apologize to her, right now. Or I swear to God, you will never wear this ring.” He shoved me hard. I stumbled and fell beside Chloe, the skin on my bare arm scraping raw against the floor. Chloe’s lips curled into a barely concealed, triumphant smirk. “Oh, Asher, you don’t have to punish her for my sake. After all, she’s going to be your wife. She’s the one who gets to spend all your money…” She clapped a hand over her mouth in mock horror. “Oops! I did it again! I’m so silly. Of course, my big sister isn’t a gold digger who seduced you for your money, right?” Her wide-eyed act didn’t hide the gleam of mockery in her eyes. Her words sparked a low murmur among the guests, whispers about my status as an orphan. Asher nodded, as if her words were gospel. “Kath, my family, the Vances, are rising stars in the tech world. You have no connections, no family, not even parents. You should be grateful I’m willing to marry you at all,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Now stop being difficult. Apologize to Chloe, and once she forgives you, we can continue with the wedding.” I looked up, my eyes pleading with his parents, my future in-laws. They watched the entire scene as if it were a play. His mother examined her manicure; his father sipped his tea. They couldn’t have cared less. A wave of profound disappointment washed over me. Surrounded by jeering faces and cruel whispers, I finally felt the exhaustion settle deep into my bones. The only reason I was in such a hurry to get married was for my grandfather. His health was failing fast. The family charter was clear: marriage first, then the inheritance. Asher and I had been in love—or so I thought—so I’d begged him to set a date. But the first time we tried to get married, Chloe “lost” a million-dollar contract for his company. The second time, Chloe “accidentally” locked me in a supply closet at the office. The third time, she “mistakenly” booked the venue in another country. Again and again, for ninety-nine excruciating attempts, she had played the role of the beautiful, brainless fool and sabotaged everything. Asher allowed it because he believed that as an orphan, I was completely dependent on him. He thought he could humiliate me endlessly, and I would have no choice but to take it. But he didn’t know. Just as he was rushing off to play hero for Chloe, a text message had lit up my phone. 【Kath, I know about your family’s bylaw. If you’ll have me, I’m willing to marry you. Anytime.】 I took a deep breath and typed back a single word: Okay. Then, I knelt, picked up the gaudy ring from the floor, and shoved it onto Chloe’s finger. “A little klutz like you,” I said, my voice ringing with finality, “is the perfect match for a dumb pig like him. Congratulations.” I was already halfway out of the hall before Asher’s enraged roar finally echoed behind me. “Kath! Who the hell do you think you are, insulting Chloe like that? You walk out that door, you’re never coming back!” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “She seems to enjoy calling herself a ‘little klutz’ just fine. Why is it an insult when I say it?” I yelled back over my shoulder. “And Asher? Go to hell.” With that, I forced my numb legs to carry me away, and I didn’t look back. My grandfather was staying in the Hayes family’s private care facility. Without access to my inheritance, I had no car, no driver. I had to take a cab. Thankfully, the staff knew I was the family’s sole heir and didn’t stop me, though their expressions turned to pity when they saw my dirt-stained wedding gown. My grandfather’s expression was the same. He was in the sunroom on the top floor, a frail figure tangled in a web of tubes and wires. His face, already pale with illness, looked even more drawn. “Kath, what happened this time?” he rasped. “I’ve poured millions into the Vance family to establish them in the tech world. I’ve helped you shield him from a dozen corporate sharks. How is it that after all this time, you still can’t manage one simple wedding?” I lowered my head, blinking back tears. When I looked up again, I was smiling. “I’m done with Asher, Grandfather. I’ve found someone else. The wedding is tomorrow.” I took his frail hand. “I came to invite you. You’ll be there to give me your blessing, won’t you?” The strict family rules meant that even though he adored me, he had no choice but to push me toward marriage. Seeing that I had finally moved on, he looked relieved. A bit of color returned to his cheeks. After finalizing the arrangements for the next day, I left his room. I had just turned the corner when I ran right into Asher. He was still carrying Chloe, as if she hadn’t just sprained an ankle but had both her legs amputated. The moment he saw me, the tender look on his face curdled into a cold sneer. “Kath! Do you have any idea how much damage your little stunt today has caused my family’s reputation?” I laughed in his face. “Asher, you abandoned me at the altar ninety-nine times for your assistant without a single thought for your own reputation. I walk out once, and you want to lecture me? Where do you get the nerve?” Chloe’s eyes immediately filled with tears. “It’s all my fault, sister. I’ve ruined things between you and Asher. I’ll get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness…” As she made a show of kneeling, Asher’s eyes narrowed. His hand flew out, and he slapped me across the face, hard. “You’ve been tormenting Chloe for months. It’s time you faced my wrath!” The force of the blow sent me sprawling. Before I could even react, he kicked open the door to my grandfather’s room and stormed inside. I tried to scramble to my feet, but Chloe, who was right behind me, delivered a vicious kick straight to my face. By the time I stumbled into the room after them, Asher was standing by the wall, his hand on the main power switch for my grandfather’s life-support machines. He had shut it all off. He watched my panic with a cold, cruel smile. “Kath, you use my money to pay for your grandfather’s treatment. You live under my roof. You should have known there would be consequences for upsetting Chloe.” My mind went blank. I lunged at him, trying to push him away from the panel, but he caught me by the neck and slammed my head down. “Apologize to her. Sincerely,” he snarled. Chloe, her ankle miraculously healed, sauntered over. She grinned, rubbing her bare foot against my cheek. “Sister, as Asher’s personal assistant, it’s my job to handle everything for him. And just so we’re clear, vetting you was part of that job. A gold digger like you wants to marry into the Vance family? Then you’d better learn to be obedient.” I craned my neck to look at the hospital bed. My grandfather, who depended on those machines to breathe, was already turning grey. His eyes had closed. A sharp, unbearable pain shot through my chest. My grandfather had been enduring unimaginable agony, clinging to life for one reason: to see me married so he could pass on the family fortune. And it was my fault. I was the one who had been blind, who had mistaken Asher’s cruel games for love, who had dragged this out and prolonged my grandfather’s suffering. Tears of rage and regret streamed down my face. I clenched my jaw so hard I thought my teeth would crack. “I’m… sorry,” I choked out. Chloe saw my broken state and giggled. “See, Asher? You promised that no matter what, I would always be the most important person to you. You kept your promise. I can trust you now!” Asher met my stunned gaze without a flicker of remorse. “Chloe has a simple mind. She’s timid. She was afraid that once we were married, I’d put you first and neglect her,” he said calmly. “She’s young and doesn’t know any better. Try to be more understanding.” He scooped Chloe back into his arms and turned to leave. “I’m taking her to the doctor. We’ll postpone the wedding for another week. You can have her as a bridesmaid.” I didn’t even watch them go. My hands trembled as I flipped the power switch back on. My back was drenched in a cold sweat. Thank God. My grandfather was stable. But I made sure the facility saved the security footage from that hallway. After that, I went back to the house I had shared with Asher to pack my things. The keypad beeped: Fingerprint not recognized. I tried twice more. As I bent down to manually enter the code, the door was kicked open from the inside. It slammed into my head with brutal force, and the world exploded in a flash of white pain. Chloe stood over me, her eyes filled with contempt. “See, Asher? What did I tell you? This woman is a total fake. She acts all meek and submissive in front of you, but the second your back is turned, she comes looking for revenge.” She immediately burst into tears. Asher, who had been lounging on the sofa, shot to his feet in a rage. He swung at me, but this time, I dodged. “What is wrong with you two psychopaths?” I screamed. “This is my house! Why would coming to my own home mean I’m looking for a fight?” Chloe’s crying intensified. “Asher… it looks like she doesn’t want to give me the house after all…” That was all it took. “Chloe’s pipes burst, and her apartment is flooded,” Asher snapped. “I told her she could have this house. Stop making a scene over every little thing!” I stared at him, this man I thought I loved, and I didn’t recognize him at all. “Asher, this is my house. The deed is in my name. What gives you the right to give it away?” Before he could answer, Chloe jumped in. “What’s yours is his once you’re married! Asher is giving you the honor of becoming Mrs. Vance. Your entire life isn’t worth that title!” My vision swam with rage. I lunged at her, and she threw up a hand to block me. And there, on the middle finger of her right hand, was the Hayes family signet ring. My family’s ancestral heirloom. I froze. There was no mistake. It was the one I had so carefully, so lovingly, given to Asher. The ring had been passed down through generations of the Hayes family, worn only by the head of the family. My grandfather, certain I would secure my future, had entrusted it to me early. I, in turn, had given it to Asher as a symbol of my complete trust and devotion. And he had just casually given it to Chloe, as if it were a cheap trinket. As if I meant nothing. I lunged for it, grabbing her hand. She yelped in pain and cried out to Asher. He didn’t hesitate. He kicked me, hard, right in the chest. “You come from nothing, and it shows,” he sneered, the breath knocked from my lungs. “It’s just a ring and a house. Once you’re my wife, do you really think you’ll have to worry about little things like this?” The pain was so intense I couldn’t get up. I could only glare at him with pure, unadulterated hatred. “I wanted to marry you because I loved you, Asher. But now? I wouldn’t have you if you were the last man on earth,” I gasped. “Your family is so high and mighty, so why are you using my property to impress your mistress? Give it back!” My defiance made him tremble with rage. “Chloe, give it to her!” he sputtered, trying to maintain his composure. “I’ll buy you the biggest, most beautiful ring! The biggest, most beautiful house!” He was trying to make me jealous. I didn’t even look at him. My eyes were locked on the ring. A flicker of malicious glee crossed Chloe’s face. She slipped the ring off her finger, and with a dramatic flourish, she deliberately tossed it down the sewer grate in the street. Then, she and Asher walked away, laughing. “Given your recent behavior, the wedding is postponed another week,” he called over his shoulder. “And Kath? Nobody wants your trash anyway!” I frantically shoved my fingers through the gaps in the metal grate, but the ring was just out of reach. My efforts left me covered in filth and grime. Passersby stared and pointed. Someone even took out their phone to record me. The weight of weeks of humiliation, pain, and heartbreak finally crashed down on me. I collapsed onto the pavement, and the tears I’d been holding back for so long finally came, hot and heavy. Just then, a calm, gentle voice spoke from above me. “Kath, don’t worry. I’ve already called the city works department. They’re on their way to help you get it back.” I looked up, startled, into a face that was both familiar and a stranger’s. And then I was in Ethan Lister’s arms, finally allowing myself to break down completely. “The second we get that ring,” I sobbed into his chest, “we’re going to City Hall.” Ethan just held me tighter. He led me to his car, where he had a change of clothes waiting for me. A short while later, the ring was safely recovered. Without a second thought, I dragged him straight to the courthouse. I was still in a daze when we walked out, marriage certificate in hand. Ethan, however, was beaming. He handed me a folder. “It’s all arranged,” he said. “This is a contract transferring all of my company shares to you. I’ve booked the grand ballroom at The Astoria for the ceremony. And I’ve already spoken with your grandfather’s medical team. They’ll be accompanying him to the wedding tomorrow.” Tears welled in my eyes again.

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In the tenth year of our marriage, I fell out of love with my husband. I began to loathe his embraces, his kisses, his touch. Even the thought of handling his belongings filled me with a sickening revulsion. The day the chandelier fell, his first instinct was to shield his female secretary. The System watched me with pity. [Host has been detected as abandoned by the male lead ninety-nine times. The next instance will result in repatriation to your original world.] I breathed a sigh of relief. No one knew. I was the one who had deliberately loosened the chandelier wire. 1 When I arrived, Tanya was feeding Vincent his medicine. Seeing me, the man spoke in a flat tone. “Give the medicine to my wife. You can leave.” Tanya’s eyes immediately reddened. She looked at Vincent, her face a mask of wounded vulnerability. He showed no sign of softening. “Leave.” Tanya put down the bowl and fled the room in tears. I spoke calmly. “Why bother with this act for my benefit, Vincent? It’s only going to take you more effort to comfort her later.” He lowered his gaze, motioning for me to take Tanya’s place. Suppressing a wave of nausea, I scooped up the herbal medicine and brought the spoon to his lips. He was handsome. Devastatingly so. So handsome that women at his company, fully aware he was married, still threw themselves at him. Tanya was one of them. I, too, had once been utterly captivated. During nights wrapped in his arms, my fingers would trace the sharp, perfect lines of his jaw, his brow, his cheekbones, over and over. But now, it took every ounce of my self-control not to vomit at the sight of his face. “I wasn’t saving Tanya,” he said, his hand moving to stroke my hair. “I was saving the child in her womb.” He looked at me, his eyes pleading for understanding. “The child is innocent, isn’t it, Helena?” I took a step back. “Can I go now?” Vincent frowned. “I’m your husband, lying here in a hospital bed. Where else would you go?” A ghost of a smile touched my lips. “If I leave, your perfect little family of three can finally be reunited.” His jaw tightened, a flicker of anger in his eyes. But then he sighed, the anger dissolving into a familiar, weary resignation. “Helena Shen,” he murmured, “you only act this way because you know how much I love you.” 2 “You only act this way because you know how much I love you.” The eighteen-year-old Vincent had said those exact words to me once. It was right after he discovered I was a task-runner, a plant sent to complete a mission. “So all of it… was just a game?” he’d asked, his voice raw. “Buying me lunch every day, bringing me water after basketball practice, saving up all your money to buy me that RTX 4090… it was all just a mission to make me fall for you, so you could break my heart?” The usual carefree arrogance was gone, replaced by a vulnerability that made his lean, youthful frame seem fragile, on the verge of shattering. I stood before him, pale and speechless, the excuses dying on my lips. “You’re cruel, Helena,” he finally said. “You win.” “From now on, you and I have nothing to do with each other.” He forced a laugh, trying to slip back into the persona of the untouchable, wealthy heir. But as he turned to walk away, I saw the tell-tale redness rimming his eyes. He never looked at me again. The System informed me that his affection meter had dropped to zero. A heavy, suffocating weight settled in my chest. It wasn’t about the fifty-million-dollar prize money. It wasn’t about failing to go home. What was it, then? It was the realization that I, Helena Shen, was a coward. I didn’t have the courage to admit that I had genuinely fallen in love with the vibrant, rebellious boy from the story. From that day on, Vincent threw away every gift I’d ever given him. He rejected my apologies, my attempts to reconcile. If he saw me in the hallway, he would physically recoil as if I were something filthy. I thought a man as proud as him would never forgive me. But when a group of thugs with iron pipes cornered me in an alley, their leering faces a blur of malice… Vincent didn’t hesitate. He charged in, shielding me with his own body. After the brawl, as he lay bleeding on a stretcher, he shakily pulled something from his pocket. Something I thought he had thrown away long ago. A simple black hair tie. My hair tie. “You’re free now, Helena.” [Congratulations, Host. Mission successful.] The two voices spoke at the same time. I collapsed beside him, holding his hand and sobbing, a bittersweet ache blooming in my heart. That day, eighteen-year-old Helena made the boldest decision of her life. Looking straight at Vincent, she spoke to the System with unwavering certainty. “I’m not leaving.” “I’m going to marry him.” And now, at twenty-eight, looking at the man lying in the hospital bed, I said calmly, “Let’s get a divorce.” 3 Vincent grabbed the back of my neck and crushed his lips to mine. The kiss was savage, desperate. Fresh blood immediately soaked through his bandages, but he didn’t seem to feel the pain, his teeth grinding against my lip. When he finally pulled away, he asked me how it felt. I considered it for a moment. “Revolting,” I said honestly. “The thought of this mouth having been on God knows how many other women… I’m thinking of scheduling an HIV test.” His face darkened completely, his patience gone. Just as I reached the door of the hospital room, his voice, laced with casual mockery, stopped me. “Do you even remember how many times you’ve asked for a divorce?” he taunted. “A hundred? A thousand? Have you ever actually left?” “Stop the drama, Helena. You gave up your chance to go back to that other world. Without me, without our home, where could you possibly go?” My feet felt rooted to the floor. The trust I had once placed in him had become the very weapon he used to impale me. A suffocating pressure tightened around my heart. I turned back and gave him a bright, brittle smile. “Back to my own home.” A crack appeared in his composure. He was about to demand what I meant, but just then, his phone rang with Tanya’s unique ringtone. By the time he hung up, the room was empty. 4 Sitting in the back of a taxi on the way back to our villa, I drifted, wondering. When did it all go so wrong between us? Perhaps it started the day the System suddenly reappeared. [If you wish to return home, I can offer you another chance.] At the time, Vincent and I had been married for a year, deep in the honey-sweet haze of our newlywed life. My biggest complaint was that the man had the stamina of a wild animal in bed. I had laughed and refused without a second thought. “No, thank you. I’m happy. I don’t want to leave.” The System was silent for a long time before making a new pact. If Vincent abandoned me one hundred times, I would be free to go home. But how could that ever happen? This was a man who would side with me against his own mother in an argument. I dismissed the strange pact and forgot about it. Then came the third year of our marriage. Vincent hired a remarkably capable new female secretary. She was his right hand in the boardroom and the one who prepared his perfectly balanced lunches. She told me not to make him greasy chicken soup. She told me not to waste his time with frivolous shopping trips. She told me not to call him during his lunch break. At first, I was annoyed, but I didn’t think much of it. After all, Tanya was thirty-eight, dressed in plain, modest clothes, and never wore a speck of makeup. The office staff called her ‘The Iron Abbess’ behind her back. Then, while I was pregnant, a series of graphic photos were sent to my phone. The man working up a sweat on top of ‘The Iron Abbess’ was none other than my husband, Vincent, the same man who demanded a good-morning kiss from me every single day. 5 “We were both drunk.” “Neither of us meant for it to happen.” Vincent begged, pleaded, and apologized. He even got on his knees. But nothing could quell the storm of rage and betrayal inside me. Like any woman scorned, I stormed into his office and slapped Tanya hard across the face. But the man who was so docile and accommodating at home, in front of everyone, returned the slap with one of his own. I was stunned. My cheek swelled instantly, and a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Vincent’s voice was ice. “You can take out your anger on me all you want, but you will not involve Tanya. She’s a victim in this, too.” A victim? The person who had sent me the photos… …was her. After that day, nothing changed. Vincent continued to take Tanya to business dinners, on work trips. They were inseparable, acting as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, I became a paranoid wreck, monitoring their every move like a hawk, earning the label of ‘the crazy wife.’ Before my child was even born, I was diagnosed with severe depression. When I showed Vincent the diagnosis, my voice was hollowed out by exhaustion. “Let’s separate.” That’s when he finally panicked. He knelt again, begging me, his voice cracking with desperation. He fired Tanya, even offered to sell his company to focus on me. I was the one who stopped him. “Just come back to our family,” I had said. “Cut off all contact with that woman. Nothing else matters.” He nodded profusely, thanking me, calling me the best wife in the world. We were about to leave for a reconciliation trip to the Maldives. Then, Tanya attempted suicide. She swallowed a bottle of sleeping pills while wearing a wedding dress. Her suicide note read: “Vincent, I hope in the next life, I meet you first.” That night, Vincent left me alone in a foreign country and took the first flight back. Tanya didn’t die. But my baby did. The shock sent me into premature labor and I hemorrhaged. When the doctor told me I would never be able to carry a child again, I summoned the System. “That pact we made,” I asked calmly. “Is it still valid?” Ticking off the hundred abandonments was surprisingly easy. All it took was a little nudge in Tanya’s direction, and she would perform beautifully. A sudden heart palpitation on our wedding anniversary. A terrified phone call during a thunderstorm. A bidding war over the final piece at a charity auction. Every single time, Vincent would first try to placate me with a half-hearted excuse. Then, he would follow his heart. 6 “We’re here,” the taxi driver said. I nodded. I pushed open the door to the villa and collapsed onto the bed. Right on cue, a message from Tanya lit up my phone. “They say cravings for sour things mean a boy, and spicy things mean a girl. But I want to eat everything! I wonder what this one will be.” Another message followed. “Still, no matter what it is, it’s better than a useless lump of flesh, don’t you think?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the phone. After her ‘suicide attempt,’ Tanya had been rehired, promoted, and given a raise. A few months ago, they had another ‘accidental’ drunken night. Tanya ‘accidentally’ got pregnant. Vincent promised me that after the child was born, he would cut ties with her for good. I could only laugh. The System’s voice suddenly echoed in my mind. [Congratulations. You can go home now.] I froze. Weren’t we one short? The System projected a screen before me. It showed Vincent’s hospital room. His friends were there. “I never thought I’d see the day things got this bad between him and Helena,” one of them said with a sigh. Another friend elbowed him. “Dude, not now.” “No, it’s true! Back then, Vincent’s leg was completely shattered for her sake…” Just then, Tanya walked in, smiling. “What are you all talking about?” The room fell silent. After everyone else had left, Tanya spoke again. “Is it true? What he said? Did you really get your leg broken for Helena?” Vincent, eyes closed, grunted in affirmation. Disbelief washed over Tanya’s face, and she slowly covered her mouth, her shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Wincing, Vincent got out of bed and pulled her into a hug. “What’s wrong?” “Promise me,” she whispered, her voice choked with tears. “Promise me that if it ever happened again… even if Helena were about to be gang-raped… you wouldn’t sacrifice yourself to save her. Promise me.” Vincent froze. I held my breath, my hands trembling. Seeing his hesitation, Tanya took his hand and placed it on her swollen belly, her eyes red and pleading. “Promise me?” she asked again. Looking at the tear-streaked face of the woman in his arms, Vincent finally relented. “I promise,” he said, his voice heavy. “If it happened again, I wouldn’t be so stupid.” I laughed. I laughed until the tears streamed down my face. So pathetic, Helena. But if it happened again… I wouldn’t be so stupid, either.

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1 My last memory was the sterile white of a delivery room, the frantic beeping of machines fading to a dull hum. Then, nothing. Now, I’m back. But fifteen years have vanished. And on my very first day, I discovered that the precious daughter I had traded my life for was being tormented by my husband’s so-called “one that got away” and her venomous child. As for my husband, Jerry Knight? He’d transformed into New York’s most reclusive spiritual guru, a phantom who spent his days shrouded in incense, detached from the mortal world. So I grabbed a fistful of his hair, slapped him three times across the face, and hissed, “Is this how you mourn me?” My eyelids felt like lead weights as I forced them open, the world swimming into focus. I was standing on a familiar street, right next to the high school I’d once attended. A few pedestrians ambled by, some casting curious glances at my dazed figure. Ten minutes later, I stared up at the indifferent sky, forced to accept the impossible. I hadn’t just been reborn. I had jumped forward fifteen years in time. Taking a shaky breath, I flagged down a passerby and asked to borrow her phone. I dialed a number I knew better than my own—Jerry’s. After a few rings, he answered. “Hello?” The voice was his—deep, familiar, achingly handsome. But time had layered it with a new gravity, a magnetic weight it hadn’t possessed before. A lump formed in my throat, and my voice cracked as I spoke. “Jerry, it’s me. It’s Annelise. I know this sounds insane, but I think I might have… time-traveled? Or something. I’m at our old high school. Can you just… can you please come get me?” The line went dead silent. A long, suffocating pause stretched between us. Just as I was about to say something, anything, to break the tension, a cold, derisive chuckle echoed through the phone. “I have no idea where you people scraped my number from,” he said, his tone dripping with contempt, “but tell whoever put you up to this to try a better trick next time. Mimicking a voice and expecting to get my attention? It’s pathetic. Disgusting.” His words hit me like a physical blow, my fingers going numb around the phone. Then, white-hot rage seared through me. I didn’t care who was watching. “Jerry Knight, who the hell do you think you’re talking to?” I snarled. “You can’t even recognize your own wife’s voice? Looks like those fifteen years have taught you absolutely nothing!” The other end went silent again, but this time it was a stunned silence. I pressed on, my voice like steel. “I don’t care what hole you’ve crawled into. You have thirty minutes to get your ass over here. If you’re not here, you might as well be dead to me.” I hung up, the finality of the click echoing in the quiet street. The woman who’d lent me the phone was staring at me, her eyes wide. I managed a weak, apologetic smile and handed it back. She took it, hesitating. “Excuse me… but were you talking to Jerry Knight? From the Knight Corporation? I’m so sorry, you had it on speaker, and his voice sounded so much like…” I blinked, then nodded slowly. “You know him?” She let out a breath, a knowing look on her face. “Who in Rockhaven doesn’t know about the Crown Prince of Knight Corp?” Seeing my interest, she must have mistaken me for an old friend of his and launched into the city’s favorite gossip. “It was so tragic, you know. After Mrs. Knight died in childbirth, she left behind a daughter. Everyone thought he’d remarry soon, especially with his old flame, Evelyn Vance, making such a huge comeback to the States. But then… a few years after he built Knight Corp into an empire, he just… vanished. Announced he was retreating from public life. No one knows where he is, though he sometimes shows up at the annual gala. But…” “But what?” I pressed. “Well, this is just a rumor,” she said, leaning in conspiratorially, “but people are saying he and Evelyn Vance are getting close again. Everyone’s betting he’ll finally come back to the world for her. I mean, she’s an Oscar-winning actress now. What man could resist that?” A bitter smile twisted my lips. “Looks like I came back just in time to crash a wedding.” The woman saw the storm cloud on my face and quickly made her excuses, scurrying away. Two daggers to the heart in less than an hour. A wave of grief, sharp and suffocating, washed over me. If Jerry had really moved on, if he and his old flame were truly in love, I wouldn’t fight it. I had no right to ask him to be a widower for fifteen years. But my daughter… I hadn’t even seen her yet. I had no idea how she was. Knowing Jerry, I had a good idea of where he’d send her. Our old alma mater. I stepped out of the cab and saw the familiar wrought-iron gates of the prestigious academy. Just then, a cacophony of jeers and cruel laughter cut through the afternoon air. My head snapped toward the sound. A group of sneering teenagers with bleached-out hair were dragging a girl with short, dark hair out of the school gates. She kept her head bowed, her shoulders slumped in defeat. It was bullying, plain and simple. I frowned. This was supposed to be the best private school in the city. How could this be happening in broad daylight? Something about the short-haired girl felt achingly familiar. An invisible string pulled me forward, and I followed them from a distance. They shoved her into a grimy, forgotten alley. The ringleader, a girl with a deceptively pretty face, stepped forward. What she did next made my blood run cold. She drove her foot into the small of the girl’s back, sending her sprawling onto the filthy concrete. “I heard Uncle Jerry got you a huge birthday present,” the pretty girl sneered. “Why don’t you show it to everyone?” The girl on the ground clutched her backpack to her chest, her body trembling. “You can’t have it!” Another vicious kick. The pretty girl’s face twisted into a mask of pure malice, a look far too ugly for someone so young. She spat on the ground next to the girl’s head. “Don’t be a bitch, Sierra Knight.” The name. Sierra. It was as if a giant, icy hand had closed around my heart and squeezed. Before she was born, Jerry and I had already chosen her name. My eyes shot to the girl on the ground. Even with her face half-hidden by her hair, I could see the defiant glint in her eyes. And her features… they were a perfect echo of my own. My daughter. It could only be her. The ringleader, bored with the game, issued a new command to her cronies. “Grab her bag. And take her shirt off. Let’s teach her a lesson she won’t forget.” My vision narrowed. The last shred of my composure burned away, replaced by a singular, blinding rage. All I wanted was to tear these monsters limb from limb. So this is the life you’ve given our daughter, Jerry. I spotted a discarded wooden plank near a dumpster. Without a second thought, I snatched it up, stormed into the alley, and shoved the crowd aside, planting myself in front of Sierra. The pretty girl, Chloe, jumped back, her eyes widening in shock when she saw my face. Then, a flicker of recognition turned into rage. “Who the hell are you? This is none of your business! Get lost, or we’ll beat the crap out of you, too!” “Shut up,” I said, my voice dangerously low. “None of you are walking out of here.” A bunch of kids who hadn’t even learned to shave. When I fought off a team of armed kidnappers to save Jerry, they probably weren’t even born yet. I rolled my shoulders, relieved to find this body was still in its twenties. Otherwise, this might have actually been a challenge. A few minutes later, the alley was filled with the groans of teenagers scattered across the ground. I pinned Chloe’s face to the grimy concrete with my boot, grinding it down for good measure. It still wasn’t enough. I drew my foot back and kicked her hard in the stomach, twice. One for each time she’d kicked my daughter. Chloe coughed up a spray of blood, her body twitching. The arrogant smirk was long gone. “My mom…” she choked out, her words slurred. “My mom won’t let you get away with this… Uncle Jerry won’t let you get away with this!” “Oh, really? And who’s your mother?” I asked, savoring her pathetic state. “Tell me. I’d love to know what kind of trash raises a little monster like you.” “Her mom… her mom is Evelyn Vance.” The voice came from behind me, small and trembling. It was Sierra. She tugged gently at the corner of my jacket, her eyes wide with fear. “Miss, you should go. If her mom finds out… you’ll be in danger…” That name again. Evelyn Vance. The pieces clicked into place, and a cold dread settled in my stomach. Now I understood. Overcome with a fierce, protective love, I pulled Sierra into my arms, stroking her soft hair. “It’s okay, sweetie,” I whispered, my heart aching. “Don’t be scared. Mama’s here to protect you.” Sierra’s eyes widened. She stared up at me, her lips parting in a silent question. “Mama…? Are… are you my mama?” They say a mother and child share a bond that transcends words, an instinct that lies deeper than memory. In that moment, looking into her eyes—my eyes—I knew she believed me. I helped her to her feet, and together we walked out of that dark alley, only to be met by an unwelcome ghost from my past. “Dad… what are you doing here?” Sierra whispered, shrinking back. Speak of the devil. I looked up. The man standing before us was almost unchanged. He was broader in the shoulders, his presence more formidable, but it was him. It was as if fifteen years had barely left a trace on him. “Jerry,” I said, my voice flat. “Long time no see.” The moment his eyes met mine, they filled with a raw, desperate emotion. His hand trembled as he reached out, as if to touch my face, only to snatch it back like he’d been burned. “Anna…” he stammered, his voice choked. “It’s really you. You’re back.” I felt Sierra’s hand tighten on my arm, a silent plea. My gaze hardened. My coldness seemed to snap Jerry out of his trance, making him finally aware of the scene around us—the groaning teenagers, the bloodied girl crawling towards him. “Jerry, save me!” Chloe wailed, reaching for his leg. “Kill this psycho bitch! She tried to kill me!” Jerry’s brow furrowed as he looked down at her, his expression hardening with annoyance. “You again?” I cut him off. “What’s the matter? Going to kill me to avenge your precious old flame’s daughter?” His frown deepened. “What old flame? You know perfectly well I don’t have one.” “I don’t have the time or the energy to care about your love life, Jerry. But you… you’ve disappointed me more than I can possibly say.” I turned, pulling Sierra with me, and tried to walk past him. He grabbed my arm, his grip like iron. His eyes were bloodshot, so red it looked like they might start bleeding. “Don’t you dare leave,” he roared, his voice raw with a pain that had been festering for fifteen years. “You are not leaving me again!” SMACK! The sound was sharp, explosive. The alley fell utterly silent. The whimpering teenagers froze. Even Sierra’s jaw dropped. Jerry’s head was snapped to the side, a red mark blooming on his cheek. He stared at me, stunned. I gritted my teeth. “Our daughter is being tormented, and you’re what? Oblivious? Or did you just not care?” SMACK! Another sharp crack echoed as my hand met his other cheek. Tears began to stream down his face, silent and heavy. “Too busy for your own child,” I continued, my voice shaking with rage, “but plenty of time for your old flame, making headlines all over the city. How pathetic are you?” SMACK! The third and final slap. I jabbed a finger at his chest, my eyes boring into his. “Jerry Knight, is this how you mourn me?”

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The day my husband discovered my Rebirth System, wounds began appearing on my body. It wasn’t until I left a glass of milk unfinished that I understood. As dizziness set in, I felt him wheeling me into his sterile, underground operating room. I watched him inject a needle into my vein, murmuring, “She’ll never know I’m taking a little blood.” Then he drove a bone marrow aspirator into my hip. “Just a sample for Willow. To give her a new life. It’s fine.” I struggled against the restraints, a silent scream in my throat. He held me down and plunged a scalpel into my chest, methodically removing my heart. He caressed my agonized face, whispering gently, “Sera, don’t hate me. You can be reborn. But Willow only has one life. Your heart for hers is a worthy trade.” I died and reborn in that room. Six times. A cycle of torment. Until the day he looked at my unblemished skin and said, “Willow loves beauty. I can’t let her live with scars. This is our fault. We owe her this. I promise, this is the last time.” I curled on the cold floor and laughed a hollow, chilling laugh. He didn’t know. Every piece of me he harvested, he traded with a piece of his own soul. 1 The surgical light was a blinding sun. Under its glare, Damian’s long, elegant fingers gripped the scalpel, slicing through the layers of skin and muscle over my chest. White-hot pain exploded through my body, a nova of agony that threatened to swallow me whole. Damian’s eyes were fixed on my heart with a covetous gleam, yet his voice was a lover’s murmur. “Don’t be afraid, Sera. Just close your eyes and sleep. When you wake up, it will all be over.” “Willow’s heart is failing,” he continued, his voice laced with a tragic urgency. “She can’t wait any longer.” Tears I couldn’t control slipped from the corners of my eyes. For the sake of Willow, he was going to kill me. Again. I stared down at the gaping wound, at the flesh peeled back without a single drop of blood, and my whole body trembled. “Damian, you’ve already taken every organ I can spare and given it to her. My heart is all I have left. Without it, I’ll be nothing more than a living corpse. I’m begging you, don’t do this to me. Don’t be so cruel.” A gentle, almost beautiful smile touched his lips. “Sera, I know Willow is your adopted sister, but she grew up with you. Don’t be so selfish.” “You have the gift of rebirth,” he reasoned, his voice calm and hypnotic. “These things… they mean nothing to you. But to Willow? They mean life itself.” I bit my lip so hard I thought it would break, but the pain was nothing compared to the chasm opening in my chest. I couldn’t understand. I would never understand how the man who once treated me like spun glass, who swore he’d never let me feel a moment of pain, could now carve me up piece by piece, over and over again. The truth, of course, was simple. He just didn’t love me that much. My vision swam with unshed tears as I made one last plea. “But I’m made of flesh and blood, Damian. I can still feel pain!” To ensure the “transplant material” was perfect, he never used anesthetic. Every time I died, the agony was absolute. A bone-deep torment that repeated itself every few days. There is no hell, but I was living in it. Damian looked down, and for a moment, his eyes were chips of ice. “Sera, it’s just a little pain. It will be over in a moment. But if Willow dies, she’s gone from this world forever.” His face clouded over, lost in a memory. He leaned against the wall, his voice rising to a tortured cry. “Willow loved me, but I chose you. If we hadn’t gotten together, she never would have been so heartbroken, never would have gone out drinking that night. That fire… it never would have happened.” “When they pulled her out, her organs were failing. We did this to her, Sera! We’re the ones who destroyed her!” The absurdity of it almost made me laugh. He was one of a dozen men who orbited Willow, yet he’d cast himself as the tragic hero of her unrequited love story. The fire? Willow had been partying with a group of shady guys, came home high as a kite, and set the fire herself. She had minor burns, nothing close to organ failure. These were basic facts, things even I knew. There was no way Damian, a world-class surgeon, didn’t know the truth. He simply chose not to. Because in his heart, Willow mattered more. So he sacrificed me on the altar of his belated, manufactured love. He came back to my side, his expression shifting back to its usual placid warmth. He even leaned down and pressed a kiss to my sweat-drenched forehead. “I’m sorry I yelled, Sera.” “Be a good girl now. Close your eyes. It will be quick.” My eyes widened in terror as he reached into the cavity of my chest. His hands closed around my heart, and with a sickening, final twist, he pulled. My body felt like it was being torn in two. I convulsed on the table, a scream ripping through the sterile air as sweat and tears streamed down my face. The familiar suffocation returned, an invisible hand closing around my throat, squeezing the life from me. My vision blurred. My lungs burned for air. Through the haze, I saw Damian place my heart into a sterile container, a look of grim satisfaction on his face. He left nothing but a black, gaping hole where my life used to be. My sight faded to black. Just before the end, I thought I heard him on the phone. “Willow, don’t you worry. I’m going to give you the most perfect gift.” I tried to speak, to scream, to curse his name, but no sound came. Darkness consumed me. And then, a cold, mechanical voice, the System that had long been dormant inside me, finally spoke. “You bound yourself to me to save his life once. Was it worth it?” 2 I don’t know how much time passed. When I opened my eyes again, Damian was standing over me, meticulously stitching the wound on my chest closed. His technique was flawless, the sutures perfect. The pain was gone, replaced by a hollow numbness where my heart should have been. He gently wiped the few stray smudges from my skin and lifted me into his arms. “It’s over, Sera. It’s all over. Let’s go home.” His voice was soft, reassuring. “Willow is being discharged today. She’ll be so happy to see you.” My eyes were swollen and raw. A stiff, dead smile spread across my face. Home? I didn’t have a home. The beautiful house that once held the warmth of our life together was now his and Willow’s love nest. I tried to twist away, but he held me firmly in the passenger seat of the car. “Behave,” he commanded softly. I was too weak to fight. I let him drive me back to that place. As we walked in, Willow emerged, her face partially hidden by a silk scarf. “Sister,” she said, her voice frail. “I’ve missed you so much.” I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. I just stared at my own feet. Damian’s finger jabbed into my freshly stitched wound. “Seraphina.” Pain flared, and I crumpled to the floor. Instantly, he was all concern, scooping me up, his hands checking me over with frantic care. “Sera, are you hurt? Did you fall?” That single, hypocritical question made all the humiliation, all the agony, curdle into a toxic knot in my gut. I was broken. Damian sighed and turned to Willow, stroking her cheek. “Willow, why don’t you go rest. I need to prepare your gift.” Willow cast a timid, fearful glance at me before turning and disappearing down the hall. Damian carried me to a room I’d never seen before, a room locked from the outside. The air was thick with the suffocating smell of bitter herbs. He lifted the heavy lid off a massive wooden tub. “In you go, Sera,” he whispered in my ear. I looked down into the tub, and a bloodcurdling scream tore from my throat. It was filled with a writhing, slithering mass of venomous creatures. Snakes, spiders, centipedes… a tangled knot of fangs and pincers, all biting and crawling over each other. I shook so violently I thought my bones would shatter, my face as white as a sheet. The dim light cast his face in haunting shadows. He stepped closer. “Sera, don’t be afraid.” His voice was a soothing balm over a festering wound. “This is a special treatment. An ancient, forbidden ritual. It’s the only way to heal your scars.” “Once you endure this,” he promised, “your skin will be reborn. Perfect.” A wave of nausea and cold dread washed over me. I stumbled back. “So… you’re waiting for my skin to become perfect… so you can graft it onto Willow?” Damian nodded, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. I fought back the terror, the rage, and my voice came out as a bitter sneer. “Why go to all this trouble? If it’s such a great method, why not let Willow try it herself?” He shook his head, his expression earnest and pleading. “Don’t say such things, Sera.” “It’s a tub full of poison. How could Willow possibly endure such agony?” He took my hand and placed it over his own heart. “But you’re different. My Sera is strong. You’ve survived losing your heart, your kidneys. What’s a little more pain?” His lips were at my ear, his whisper a hypnotic poison. “Please, Sera. I’m begging you.” “I swear to you, this is the last time. I just want to give Willow the most perfect twentieth birthday gift.” I stood frozen, the empty space in my chest throbbing with a phantom pain, as if poison thorns were growing from the inside out. My lips trembled, but no more tears would come. “Damian, Willow is flesh and blood, but so am I!” My voice was a raw, broken thing. “I don’t die, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel pain!” “You’ve given her everything that was mine. Now you want to peel off my very skin? How can you be so monstrously cruel?” A crushing weight settled on my chest, and I collapsed. “Willow’s accident has nothing to do with me. I won’t give her anything else.” I looked at him, my eyes bloodshot, a final plea in my voice. “This isn’t for me, Damian. It’s for you.” “If I die at your hands a seventh time, the System will initiate a settlement. A final accounting. You will pay a price you cannot even imagine.” 3 Damian stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, a faint, condescending smile touched his lips. “Oh, Sera. You’re not behaving. To think you’d invent such a ridiculous story just to avoid helping Willow.” “If you insist on being difficult,” he sighed, “then I’m afraid I’ll have to punish you.” He pressed a button on the wall, and a moment later, a servant led a dog into the room. My breath caught in my throat. “Goldie!” The old golden retriever caught my scent, his tail thumping wildly as he tried to run to me, but Damian held him fast. Damian stroked the dog’s head, his voice soft with regret. “If it wasn’t for Willow, I would never dream of hurting him. Goldie has been with you since you were a child. He’s family.” “But if you refuse…” His gentle eyes suddenly hardened into flint. In one swift, brutal motion, he brought a knife down. One of Goldie’s ears fell to the floor. The dog let out a piercing shriek of pain and confusion, blood matting his golden fur. He had never imagined his master, his loyal companion, could do such a thing. “NO!” My scream merged with Goldie’s agonized cries. “Damian, what have you become?! Have you forgotten? During the earthquake, when you were buried in the rubble, it was Goldie who dug you out! He shredded his paws to save you! How can you treat him like this? You’re a monster!” A flicker of something—pity, perhaps—crossed his face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “If you weren’t being so stubborn, Goldie would be living out his days in peace. The one causing his pain right now… isn’t that you?” His shameless logic stole the air from my lungs. “Don’t you understand? I’m trying to save you!” “If you force me to die a seventh time, you will regret it for all eternity!” He just shook his head, idly flipping the bloody knife in his hand. “All I want is to grant Willow one wish. I will regret nothing, no matter the cost.” And with that, he plunged the knife into Goldie’s eye. Another horrifying scream echoed in the small room. A thick, red tear trickled down the dog’s face. I stood paralyzed, hate growing inside me like a cancer, a black and living thing. “Still not convinced?” Damian sighed, and drove the knife into Goldie’s other eye. “Stop! Please, stop!” I sobbed, crawling to Goldie’s side. Damian’s voice was flat, clinical. “Don’t forget, I’m the best surgeon in the world. I know ten thousand ways to keep him alive in excruciating pain.” I pulled the trembling, bleeding dog into my arms, holding him tight. “Fine,” I whispered, my voice dead. “I’ll do it.” Then, I closed my eyes and stepped into the tub. Damian let out a breath of relief and sealed the lid shut. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Sera.” In the suffocating darkness, the creatures sensed my warmth. They swarmed over me, their fangs and stingers sinking into my flesh. This was a new kind of pain. Worse than being flayed, worse than being dismembered. It was a searing, soul-shredding agony. My head felt like it was splitting open as their venom flooded my system, a million needles driving straight into my marrow. Outside, the blind dog could only hear my muffled screams. He hurled himself against the wooden tub, biting and clawing at it, trying desperately to save me. It was useless. As the pain reached an unbearable crescendo, I closed my eyes for the last time.

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I had a deal with the billionaire CEO, Isabelle Duke. After I proposed to her for the ninety-ninth time, she would meet me at City Hall on the one-hundredth. But on that day, Isabelle didn’t show up. Instead, she was at a sold-out concert with her pet project, a young starlet named Asher Cole. A clip of them sharing a sweet, lingering kiss for the jumbotron camera went viral, and a new trending topic was born. At the same time, I went viral for a different reason. The man who stood alone at the steps of City Hall for the one-hundredth time. Everyone was guessing who the mysterious, unseen woman could be. And they were all betting on how long it would be until I made proposal number one hundred and one. When Isabelle finally realized she’d broken our promise, she was consumed by a rare wave of guilt. She swore to me that she would be there for the one hundred and first time. But when she arrived at City Hall, a vision in a custom-made wedding gown, her phone buzzed with a text from me. “Isabelle, there won’t be a one hundred and first time. We’re over. Goodbye.” 1. I proposed to Isabelle Duke one hundred times. And every single time I stood on the cold stone steps of City Hall, she would be somewhere else with her latest flame, making a spectacle of their new love. Maybe it was an amusement park. Maybe it was a concert. Once, it was even at City Hall itself, getting a marriage license just for the thrill of it, only to file for divorce the next day. A quick hit of adrenaline. The one thing I dreamed of, the one thing I ached for, was nothing but a game to her. I shut off my phone and sat on the curb, waiting for the car I’d called. A long time passed. The car never came, but a call from Isabelle did. The moment I answered, her voice, sharp and cold as ice, cut through the phone. “It’s late. Why aren’t you home? Don’t you think about how it looks, my fiancé staying out all night?” “Where are you?” she demanded. I said nothing. The old me would have folded instantly, my voice soft and apologetic as I explained myself. But now… now I couldn’t be bothered to speak. A flicker of annoyance crept into her tone. “Leo, are you mute?” “City Hall,” I said, my voice flat. Isabelle went silent. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head as she finally, finally remembered the promise she’d made. That after ninety-nine proposals at the steps of City Hall, she would appear on the one-hundredth and say yes. But today, she had chosen to go to a concert with Asher Cole. “I… wait for me. I’ll come get you.” She hung up. I cancelled the ride. Not because I had any hope left for her, but because the weather had turned. A sudden, heavy snow began to fall. I stood on the corner, shivering in the biting wind. The abrupt cold was brutal on my phone’s battery; it died within three hours. Isabelle never came. The last thing I saw before the screen went dark was a new post on Asher Cole’s Instagram story. A selfie of him and Isabelle in front of her car, her profile half-turned to the camera as snowflakes dusted her hair. The caption read: “One snowfall together, a lifetime to go.” In the reflection of the dead screen, I saw myself smile. A real smile. One of release. On the day of our one-hundredth promise, she chose him. As I waited for her in a snowstorm, she was making memories with him. I had given her five years of my life, waiting for a single promise. In the end, it turned to ash. Isabelle Duke, I’m done waiting. 2. That night, I didn’t go home. I dragged my frozen body two hours through the snow to the nearest hotel. Isabelle didn’t send a single text. Didn’t make a single call. The next morning, I was at the office early, drafting my resignation. Isabelle was the founder of the company. I was just a business manager. I’d been by her side since she had nothing, yet even now, with her empire built, my presence felt just as insignificant. If I vanished, she wouldn’t even notice. Just as my pen was about to form the last letter of my name, Isabelle appeared behind me. I met her gaze in the reflection of my monitor, my expression placid, and calmly switched screens as if nothing had happened. “What are you writing?” she asked, her voice crisp. “Nothing. Just some client contracts.” Her brow furrowed slightly. Seemingly satisfied, she turned and walked toward her office. “Leo, my office. Now.” The moment I was gone, the office erupted in hushed whispers. “It’s over for him. Leo’s about to get reamed out by Ms. Duke again.” In this company, everyone knew Asher Cole was the heir apparent. No one knew I was her fiancé. In her office, Isabelle looked at me, her brow furrowed in annoyance. “Is it really that big of a deal? I didn’t pick you up, so you decided not to come home at all? Are you trying to make a scene?” I shook my head. “The snow was too heavy. It wasn’t safe to drive.” It was the truth, but it was also an excuse. The real reason was that I never wanted to go back. I wanted to leave for good. Isabelle didn’t seem to notice the shift in me. After a moment of silence, she said, “About the proposal… I accept.” She slid an envelope across her desk. “Tonight. With me.” They were front-row tickets to my favorite classical orchestra. I knew it was her way of compensating me, a transaction. I thought about it, then took the tickets. After all, it was a debt she owed me. Seeing my silence, Isabelle opened her mouth to say something else, but a sharp ring from her phone cut her off. She glanced at the screen and her entire demeanor changed. She left the room without another word. I knew who it was. It had to be Asher. He was the only one who could make Isabelle Duke drop everything. Before I left her office, I printed my resignation letter and took it to VP Evans. He looked at the letter, then at me, his eyes wide with surprise. “Leo, you’re resigning? Is this because of Ms. Duke?” I pressed my lips together. It was almost funny. They all thought I was leaving because I couldn’t handle a scolding. They had no idea it was because my heart had been shattered into a million irreparable pieces. When I nodded, VP Evans let out a long sigh and signed the form. As I was walking out of the building, I ran straight into Isabelle and Asher. The entire city knew he was her prized possession. Isabelle’s eyes darkened when she saw me. “Leo, whatever it is, report it later.” She started to walk past me, Asher in tow. As he passed, he shot me a look that was pure venom, a clear warning. I said nothing. That evening, I went to the concert on time. The hall was packed, every seat filled except for the one beside me. Isabelle’s seat. In the past, I would have waited for her in the lobby, no matter how late she was. This time, I went in alone. The music was beautiful. By the time it ended, she still hadn’t arrived. I wasn’t angry. My five years had already been wasted. What was one more broken promise? Whether she ever saw my resignation letter or not, it didn’t matter. My decision was made. 3. After the concert, I didn’t go home. I wandered along the waterfront, watching the city lights glitter on the dark water. The sky suddenly exploded in a cascade of fireworks. A brilliant, booming rain of light. It didn’t stir a single thing in me. My phone, however, was blowing up. Not with worried texts from Isabelle, but with news alerts. The fireworks were for Asher. A city-wide birthday present from her. It was after midnight when I finally returned to the penthouse. The living room lights were on. Isabelle was asleep on the sofa. Was she waiting for me? For five years, it had always been the other way around. She’d come home drunk, and I’d be the one waiting up, calling her a dozen times, a pot of ginger tea ready on the stove to soothe her stomach. She always told me she hated it when I did that. She said it made her feel old. The sound of the door must have woken her. She shot up, saw me, and rushed over, throwing her arms around me. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you answer your phone? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I was about to call the police!” I froze, then gently extricated myself from her grip and pulled out my phone. The screen was black. “It got too cold. The battery died.” The mention of the snow seemed to remind her. A rare look of guilt flickered across her face. She bit her lip, then awkwardly thrust a small, velvet box at me. I took it automatically. Inside was a diamond ring. For a moment, I was stunned. How many times had I dreamed of this? Of Isabelle, standing on the steps of City Hall, holding out her hand for me to slide this very ring onto her finger. But that was the old me. Now, I felt nothing. I closed the lid and casually tossed the box onto the coffee table. “Thanks.” Isabelle stared at me, her beautiful brow furrowed. She couldn’t comprehend my polite detachment. “What’s wrong with you?” I glanced at her, and a strange sort of clarity washed over me. I knew what she’d expected. She thought I’d gasp, that my eyes would fill with tears of joy, that I would forget all the pain and humiliation and fall at her feet. A humorless smirk twisted my lips. I decided to give her what she wanted. “Oh,” I said, my voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “Wow. I’m so happy!” I looked her dead in the eye. “Satisfied?” I thought that would be the end of it, but my sarcasm only angered her. “Leo, is this necessary? All I did was show Asher around the office.” “And I already said I’d marry you. How long are you going to keep this act up?” Her dark expression didn’t faze me. I just plugged my phone in to charge. “You’re mistaken. I’m not acting. I’m just tired.” Her face tightened. For the first time, she seemed to register the profound, unbreachable distance in my attitude. She bit her lip and reached for my hand. Just then, my newly-charging phone began to ring, a frantic, urgent sound that made her flinch. It was him. She looked at me, about to offer an explanation, but I spoke first. “You’re busy. You don’t have to explain. I get it.” My understanding seemed to stun her more than my anger ever could have. She gripped my hand tighter, a desperate need in her eyes to understand what had changed. But the phone kept ringing. Finally, under my calm, steady gaze, she let go. “The one hundred and first proposal,” she said, her voice strained. “I’ll be there.” Then she was gone. I went to my room as if nothing had happened, and had the best night’s sleep I’d had in five years. Once my handover at work was complete, Isabelle Duke would never see me again. 4. When I got to the office, my colleague Mike pulled me aside before I could even get to my desk. “Leo, man, you’re in for it today.” I looked at him, confused. I was already a ghost here. What trouble could I possibly be in? Mike pointed ahead. My desk, my space for the last five years, was now occupied by Asher Cole. He explained that today was Asher’s first official day. When it came time to pick a desk, he’d pointed directly at mine. I walked over calmly. Asher looked up as I approached, a smug, dismissive smirk on his face. “I like this spot. You can go find somewhere else.” I looked at him and nodded. “Okay. I just need to pack my things.” My lack of protest was misinterpreted by everyone watching. They saw a man defeated, bowing to the new favorite. No one dared to say anything, but the air was thick with their pitying glances and whispered comments. I finished packing the last of my personal items into a cardboard box. Just as I was about to leave, Isabelle appeared. Asher immediately rushed to her side, taking her hand. Isabelle allowed it, leading him to the center of the office. “Everyone, this is Asher Cole. He’ll be joining our team starting today. Please make him feel welcome.” A scattered, lukewarm applause filled the room. Isabelle didn’t seem to care. “Have you picked a desk?” she asked him. Asher immediately pointed. “I want that one!” Following his finger, Isabelle’s gaze landed on my old desk, and then on me, standing beside it with a box in my arms. Her expression faltered. “That spot is taken,” she said, her voice tight. “Pick another.” To everyone’s surprise, she had refused him. But Asher was determined. He clung to her arm, whining like a spoiled child. “But Izzy, I want that one. It’s closer to your office. I can see you from there.” I had no interest in watching their soap opera unfold. “He can have the desk,” I said, my voice clear and even. I was leaving. What did I care about a stupid desk? Asher shot Isabelle a triumphant look. “See? He’s fine with it.” Isabelle’s gaze snapped to me, her expression unreadable but dark. She turned back to Asher, her eyes now cold as steel. “I said, that desk is taken. Choose another.” The Isabelle who spoiled him, who indulged his every whim, was gone. In her place was a furious CEO. Asher was so stunned he didn’t know how to react. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Isabelle gave me one last, fleeting glance, then turned on her heel and stalked back to her office. Asher scrambled to follow her, but not before shooting me a hateful glare over his shoulder. It was funny. I used to be him, always one step behind her, chasing a shadow. The only difference was, I chased it for five years. As I was heading for the door, my phone buzzed. A text from Isabelle. [Tomorrow. The 101st proposal. I’ll be waiting.] I smiled, blocked her number, and deleted her contact. After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I walked out of that building for the last time. I went home, picked up my already-packed suitcase, and went to the airport. The next day, Isabelle Duke, dressed in a stunning white gown, arrived at City Hall.

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