Author: Momo Chan

I followed a niche but incredibly heartwarming couple’s blog. It was a simple, intimate chronicle of a woman’s life with her boyfriend. The little moments. They’d bicker over sharing a single bowl of pasta, then laugh and call each other a child who’d never grow up. They’d hold each other tight under a canopy of stars on some remote hilltop, wishing time would freeze in that perfect moment. The blogger never showed her face, but her words created a world I fell in love with. Until yesterday, the day before my wedding, when the account updated one last time. 【A decade of love ends here.】 【From this day forward, he will be her husband. And I will only be her maid of honor.】 【This account will no longer be updated. Wishing my best friend, and the man she loves most, a lifetime of happiness.】 The accompanying photo was a picture of my fiancé and me, our backs turned to the camera. 1 The photo was from last week, at the bridal boutique. I remember Clara fussing with my veil, chattering away as she adjusted the delicate lace. In the mirror, her smile was wider and brighter than my own, as if she were the one about to walk down the aisle. “Zoe, you look stunning,” she’d said, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. “Nathan is the luckiest guy on the planet.” Nathan was standing a short distance away, his head bowed over his phone. At the sound of his name, he looked up and offered us a warm smile. But even then, I sensed a flicker of something strained behind his eyes. “You’re exaggerating,” I laughed, taking Clara’s hand. “If you hadn’t dragged me here, I probably would’ve just bought a dress online.” “Absolutely not!” Clara’s eyes went wide. “My absolute favorite person in the world only gets one wedding! We can’t just ‘wing it’!” She turned to Nathan. “Isn’t that right?” Nathan pocketed his phone and walked over, his arm settling naturally around my shoulders. “Why would you ever do that? My Zoe looks beautiful in everything.” His eyes scanned my dress, full of admiration. “But this one… this one is perfect for you.” Just before we left to scout locations for the photoshoot, Clara snapped a picture of us from behind. The click of the shutter was loud in the quiet boutique. When I turned to look, she just smiled and said she wanted a candid shot for memory’s sake. The night before the wedding was my bachelorette party. I got utterly wasted, and Clara, as always, was there to take care of me. When Nathan arrived to pick me up, she was gently dabbing my forehead with a cool, damp cloth. “I’ve got her,” she told him, blocking the doorway. “This is her last night of freedom. The groom-to-be isn’t allowed to interfere.” Nathan just stood there, not making a move to come inside. His gaze was fixed on Clara, his expression unreadable, complex. I was slumped on the sofa, watching them through a drunken haze. “Nathan…” I murmured his name. Only then did his eyes shift to me. He crossed the room and gathered me into his arms. “Why’d you drink so much?” Clara laughed brightly. “She’s happy, of course! She’s getting married.” “Zoe said back in college that if she ever got married, she’d get completely hammered at her bachelorette party. Tonight, her dream came true.” I did say that, I remembered vaguely. We were watching some cheesy romance movie in our dorm room. We’d promised then and there that we would be each other’s maid of honor. That promise held, even after I started dating Nathan. He lifted me carefully into his arms. “Thanks for looking after her,” he said to Clara. “It’s my duty,” Clara’s voice dropped, suddenly low. “After all… this is the last time.” I was too drunk to catch the chilling finality in her words. It wasn’t until the next morning, when I woke up alone in my hotel room and saw the notification on my phone, that it all came crashing down. I groggily tapped on the post from the blog I followed. In that single, heart-stopping moment, the hangover pounding in my head vanished, replaced by a chilling clarity. 2 I’d found the account by pure chance. I was scrolling through my phone one night when the app suggested a local user to follow. The profile picture was a character from an anime I loved. Curious, I clicked. The account only had a few thousand followers. The latest post was from three days prior. It was a photo of a desk late at night, piled with work. The caption read: 【Working late again. He said he’d stay hungry with me, but ended up ordering us both takeout. That idiot.】 I found myself scrolling down, drawn in. 【He said I wasn’t eating enough and insisted on giving me the steak out of his own bowl. I told him I didn’t like it, and he just laughed and called me a picky kid.】 【Stargazing on the mountain tonight. He said he wished time could just stop right here. Me too.】 【Caught a cold, so he skipped work to take care of me. He can’t cook to save his life, but he tried to make me soup. It was burnt, but it was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.】 … Reading through their story, my heart ached with a strange sense of longing. The quiet, ordinary moments, the tender details—it was the kind of love I had always dreamed of. I wanted to leave a comment, to wish them well, but comments were disabled. So I just hit ‘Follow.’ But now I knew. In every single one of their cherished memories, I was the oblivious third wheel. She said they had been in love for ten years. Nathan and I had been together for ten years. Clara and I had been friends for twenty. She moved in next door when we were ten. The first time we met, she had her hair in pigtails and handed me a strawberry lollipop. “I’m Clara,” she’d said. “We’re going to be friends now!” From grade school through college, we were inseparable. She knew all my secrets. She was there for every milestone. Sophomore year of college, I met Nathan. He was the star of the architecture department. The line of girls trying to get his attention stretched from the lecture hall to the athletic field. I was just… me. Plain, unremarkable. I never imagined he’d even notice I existed. “What are you afraid of?” Clara had encouraged me. “You’re the most brilliant girl in the Liberal Arts college. Want me to get his number for you?” Somehow, it worked. Nathan and I started dating. The first person I told was Clara. She spun me around in a hug, more excited than I was. “Yes! My girl finally got her man!” I know, in that moment, she was genuinely happy for me. There’s that joke online, that a best friend is like a second mother-in-law to a boyfriend. No matter how great he is, he’ll never be good enough for her precious girl. That was Clara. She was thrilled for me, but the first time she actually met Nathan, she looked at him like he was something she’d scraped off her shoe. Nathan and I were on a date at the campus dining hall. I’d done my makeup, picked a nice outfit. Clara had just pulled an all-nighter for a group project. She showed up with dark circles under her eyes, her hair greasy, wearing stained pajamas and flip-flops. She shoved past Nathan and plopped down next to me. He blinked, stunned, and moved to the seat across from us. Clara’s eyes raked over him, her face a mask of pure disgust. “This is him? Sweetie, I think I was wrong to be happy for you. Maybe you should reconsider?” She was merciless. Nathan’s face tightened. Later, when I asked him what he thought of my best friend, he just scoffed. “She’s… something.” I remember laughing and playfully hitting his arm. “She’s my best friend, and you’re the man I love. You two have to get along.” After graduation, Nathan and I rented a small apartment together. Clara was over constantly, crashing on our couch whenever it got too late. “You know,” she joked once, “with you two like this, it feels like I’m your adopted daughter.” Nathan would play along, putting on a stern fatherly face. “Alright then, sweet daughter, stop freeloading and go do the dishes.” The apartment was always filled with our laughter. I never imagined that our happy little world was a mirage, built on a foundation of lies. 3 I stumbled into the bathroom, splashing my face with cold water again and again, but the frantic pounding in my chest wouldn’t stop. Tomorrow was my wedding. The invitations were sent. The venue was booked. My dress was hanging in the closet. Everything was ready. My hand trembled as I tried to call Nathan. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer. I stared at the screen for a long time before, like a puppet on a string, my fingers dialed Clara’s number. The same automated message. The person you are calling is unavailable. My heart plummeted into a black abyss. I couldn’t understand. When they were together, hiding from me, enjoying their secret world… did they ever feel a single shred of guilt? Or was it just a thrill, the cheap high of a clandestine affair? I knew Clara was a travel blogger, documenting her every move across a dozen different platforms. And I knew people in social media always had countless alt accounts. I searched the hotel’s name, filtering by IP address, and scrolled through hundreds of posts. Finally, I found it. An account named OnlyTheUnlovedAreHomewreckers. The latest photo was of a man’s hands, the long, elegant fingers popping a bottle of champagne. On his wrist was the watch I’d given him for his birthday last year. It was Nathan. The caption was a single, devastating line: 【Stolen moments. Every second is a countdown.】 The comments were a mix of people cheering for their “true love” and others calling her out for being a homewrecker. Shaking, I clicked on the profile. This account was the polar opposite of the sweet, private blog. This one had over a hundred thousand followers, and it had been active for years. On this account, she had documented the story of the three of us. The very first post dripped with passive-aggressive venom. 【If I knew the campus heartthrob was this easy, I would’ve gone for him myself. Can’t believe my best friend actually pulled it off.】 【And she didn’t even tell me they were on a date. Did she have to make me show up in my pajamas with no makeup on, just so she could look better? So annoying.】 Someone in the comments joked, “Sounds like fake friends lol,” and she’d replied with a smirking emoji. When I got sick with the flu and Nathan came over to take care of me, she wrote: 【Someone’s a real princess. Just a little fever and she needs a babysitter.】 【A blessing in disguise, though. It gave him and me some time alone. She’s surprisingly good at creating opportunities for us~】 In the corners I couldn’t see, they had already built their own world. Clara posted: 【We both added each other on our private accounts without even discussing it. Is that what you call being on the same wavelength?】 Attached were screenshots of their chats, names blurred out. They talked about music, about their dreams—all the things Nathan thought were beyond my understanding. Clara was always there with the perfect compliment, the perfect validation. Talking to you is just so easy, he’d told her. For Valentine’s Day, Clara made him artisanal chocolates and mailed them to his office. She refused his offer of a gift in return, saying she didn’t want him to spend money on her. He was so touched. You’re such a special girl, he’d messaged her. They carefully maintained their plausible deniability. Every post came with a disclaimer, a nod to our friendship. He gave her a gift to thank her for taking care of me. He took her to dinner to test out a restaurant for my birthday. In her narrative, I was the spoiled, clueless girlfriend. The demanding princess. And under that flimsy cover, they reveled in the illicit thrill of their betrayal. 4 For Clara’s birthday, I bought her the limited-edition designer handbag she’d been coveting for months. The next day, she “ran into” Nathan at a coffee shop, carrying the new bag. She posted a selfie where he was “accidentally” captured in the background. She posted a photo from a movie we all saw together, of their hands secretly clasped over the armrest in the dark. The day Nathan proposed to me, Clara wrote a long, soul-baring post about her pain and her refusal to give up. 【Tonight, I need an answer,】 she wrote. 【If he loves me too, he can’t let this happen.】 She got her answer. That night, when she kissed him, Nathan didn’t pull away. They made a pact: one last wild, secret vacation together before the wedding. So Nathan told me he had to go on a week-long business trip. A wave of nausea washed over me. What overtime? What business dinners? All of it—all of it was just an excuse for their trysts. During that week, Clara’s blog was a flurry of activity. She was going to overwrite all of my memories with Nathan, she wrote, so that his future would be filled with nothing but her shadow. Like a form of self-torture, I watched every update. The same restaurants, the same hotels, the same hiking trails. The same scenery, but with a different woman by his side. I watched, first with the agony of a knife to the heart, then with a creeping numbness, and finally, with a strange sense of the absurd. I realized that once your heart truly dies, even hatred feels like a waste of energy. As dawn approached, I made a decision. The wedding had to be canceled. I opened my laptop and started drafting an email to our guests. Each keystroke was a fresh stab of pain. Ten years of love, twenty years of friendship, all turned to ash in a single night. Before I could hit send, my phone rang. It was Clara. “Zoe? Why are you calling so early?” Her voice was cheerful, completely normal. “You’re about to be the most beautiful bride in the world! You can’t be pulling an all-nighter.” I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Sensing something was wrong, her tone shifted to one of concern. “Zoe? Are you okay? Are you just having some pre-wedding jitters?” She continued, her voice laced with feigned indignation. “Where’s that idiot Nathan? Why isn’t he with you? Don’t tell me he’s not answering his phone again because of ‘work’.” “God, that boy. If you weren’t getting married tomorrow, I’d call him right now and chew him out for you!” The irony was suffocating. Just hours ago, she had posted her dramatic farewell, and now she was comforting me with the practiced ease of a devoted friend. “I’m… I’m fine,” I finally managed to choke out. “Just a little nervous. I suddenly wanted to hear your voice.” “…You silly girl,” she laughed softly. “Don’t worry. Everything will be perfect tomorrow, I promise.” “Right now, the only thing you need to do is get some sleep. I’ll handle everything else.” Suddenly, I heard a man’s muffled gasp from her end of the line. It was Nathan’s voice. I fought back the tears that were burning my eyes. “Clara,” I asked, my voice dangerously calm, “is there anything you’ve been hiding from me?” There was a beat of stunned silence on the other end, followed by a frantic, clumsy denial. “What are you talking about, Zoe? What’s wrong?” “Put your phone on speaker,” I said. Clara hesitated, but then I heard the tell-tale echo. “Clara. Nathan.” My voice was clear and steady, without a trace of a tremor. “I’m calling off the wedding.” “And I wish you two all the happiness you deserve.”

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During the earthquake, I shielded my son with my body. My husband arrived but only had time to save our son. By the time rescuers reached me, my limbs were irreparably crushed, leaving me dependent on their care. Years later, my son handed me a document to sever our ties. “No one will marry me with you as a burden,” he said coldly. My husband added, “You saved him—will you let your condition ruin his life?” Heartbroken, I signed and left alone. Later, while scavenging in my wheelchair, I saw them—my husband, son, and his first love—a happy family. I overheard the truth: my husband had deliberately not saved me to be with her. My son chirped, “Good thing we got rid of Mom so Aunt Lily could be my new mom.” I died from the betrayal, but when I opened my eyes, I was back under the rubble with my son. 1 “Mom, where are you going? Come back and protect me!” My son, pinned beneath the debris, watched in wide-eyed horror as I started to crawl away on my own. I didn’t look back. I just kept crawling. In my last life, I had used my body as a shield for him, creating a small pocket of survival. My reward was being cast out like trash. The image of him fawning over Lily, his arm wrapped around hers, was burned into my mind. My own son, who could look at me with such venom as he forced me to sign away my rights as his mother, could smile so sweetly at another woman. What was the point of saving a son like that? I glanced back one last time at his desperate, helpless face, then turned and scrambled towards a makeshift supply point set up by other survivors. “Please, help!” I cried, my face a mask of panic. “Save my son!” As they were disinfecting my wounds with alcohol, a familiar figure stumbled toward the wreckage. I froze. Mark. My husband. He raced toward the spot where our son was trapped. Ignoring the gash on his own arm, he frantically pulled the boy free. Our son, Caleb, sobbed hysterically in his arms. Mark glanced at the unstable pile of rubble I had just escaped from. He hesitated for only a second, then kicked out the last, splintered support beam holding up a massive concrete slab. My breath caught in my throat. So, in my past life, the slab collapsing after Caleb was saved… it wasn’t an accident. It was deliberate. I finally understood the deep-seated resentment they both held for me. I was supposed to have died under that rubble. By some fluke, I had only lost my limbs and survived. And I, like a fool, had believed Mark simply didn’t have time to save me. I had even comforted him, told him I didn’t blame him… It felt like a hand was squeezing my throat, cutting off my air. I watched as Mark kicked out the last support, then clutched our son and ran in the opposite direction. I knew where he was going. That was where Lily was buried. In the distance, a news van pulled up, and reporters with cameras started running our way. I quickly squeezed out a few tears and collapsed to the ground with a dramatic wail. 2 When Mark emerged with Lily, his rescue uniform was torn to shreds. It was obvious the situation where she had been trapped was far more dangerous. I saw them from a distance and let out a cold, bitter laugh. In my last life, Mark had defied official orders and rushed to the disaster site first. I thought he was coming for me and our son. Now I knew the truth. He came because his precious first love was buried here. Caleb, though he only came up to Lily’s waist, clutched at her clothes, trying his best to support her. Mark held Lily close, his voice soft and gentle. “It’s okay. The main rescue team is almost here. As soon as they arrive, I’ll have them take you to the best hospital nearby.” A bitter sting filled my eyes. Is this how he had cared for Lily in my past life, while I was left for dead under the rubble? “Ma’am, could you please repeat that? Who was the rescuer in the uniform who was just here?” a reporter asked, microphone extended. My eyes were red from crying. I stood before the camera and turned to look at the approaching trio. “That’s my husband,” I sobbed. “And the woman he ran off to save… is his first love.” “Sarah?” At the sound of my voice, Mark’s head snapped up. He looked from me to the collapsed rubble where Caleb and I had been, his face a mask of disbelief. “You… how are you…” “How am I still alive? Is that what you want to ask?” I cried, gasping for breath. “Reporters, do you see that broken beam over there? My husband kicked it out! After he pulled our son out, he destroyed the only thing holding up the slab. He never intended for me to get out of there alive!” I was sobbing so hard a reporter had to steady me. “Ma’am, please calm down. Take a breath and tell us what happened.” I choked back a sob. “I thought he just didn’t have time to save me! If there hadn’t been another small opening on the other side, I would have been crushed to death by him! I thought he disobeyed orders and rushed here for us, for his family. But it was for her! Captain Miller, if you wanted to be with your first love, you could have just told me! Why did you have to try and kill me?” My words sent the reporters into a frenzy. Camera flashes exploded in our faces. Mark’s first instinct was to shield Lily’s eyes from the blinding light. Then he turned to me, his brow furrowed in anger. “Sarah! What the hell are you talking about? Do you have any idea what you’re doing to Lily’s reputation?” I pointed a trembling finger at him. “You see? You see that? His first instinct is to protect her!” The crowd of survivors and onlookers erupted. “Look at his uniform, he’s a first responder! He ignored orders, and when he got here, he saved his old flame instead of his own wife?” “Lily? That name sounds familiar. Isn’t she some kind of minor internet celebrity?” “I found her! Yeah, she’s an influencer! And there’s some drama… let’s see… caught going into a hotel with a male fan late at night, confronted by his wife during a live stream…” Someone threw a rotten egg, splattering across Lily’s perfectly made-up face. “Slut! How many married men have you slept with?” “And you!” another person yelled at Mark. “You treat this trash like a treasure and leave your own wife to die? Scum!” “Reporters! Get a close-up! She wants to be famous, right? Let’s give her some attention!” Lily shrieked and buried her face in Mark’s chest. “It’s not true! I didn’t do it!” The cameras swarmed them. In this situation, the smart thing for Mark to do, especially in his uniform, would have been to step away. But after a moment’s hesitation, he pulled Lily behind him, shielding her with his body as the cameras captured his every move. He glared at me. “Sarah, tell them the truth, now! Are you trying to ruin an innocent person’s life?” Tears streamed down my face as I sobbed for the cameras. “An innocent person? You call the woman you abandoned me to save innocent?” “That’s right! You left your wife, and you think you’re in the right?” a bystander shouted. “Get them! Beat the scumbag and the homewrecker!” “Don’t you dare touch my daddy!” Caleb launched himself forward, standing in front of Mark. His small body radiated a surprising amount of force. “My daddy and Aunt Lily are innocent! Don’t let my mommy fool you! She’s a liar!” He pointed at me. “She’s not the poor victim you think she is! Just a little while ago, she left me under the rubble all by myself and crawled out to save her own skin. I was crying so loud, and she didn’t even look back! If my daddy hadn’t come and saved me, I’d be dead right now!” The crowd fell silent. 3 Mark seized the opportunity. “That’s right. When I arrived, my wife was already gone from the site. I kicked that beam to eliminate a potential hazard, not to harm her like she claims!” His eyes reddened, and the sight of a strong man looking so wronged was enough to sway some people. “We’re husband and wife. Caleb is our son. If she had still been in there, don’t you think my own son would have told me? It was only because I confirmed she was safe that I took action.” “As for saving Ms. Hayes,” he continued, gesturing to Lily, “it was because I couldn’t find my wife, and someone else needed help. But I never imagined… Sarah, I never imagined you would slander me like this.” The crowd’s eyes widened, and their suspicious gazes turned on me. One of the survivors nodded. “That’s right. When she came running over here, her son wasn’t with her. He must not have been rescued yet.” “So you’re a mother who abandoned her own child?” “If you were still under there, your son would have told his dad. He must have said you were gone.” Now, the cameras were all pointed at me. “We almost fell for it! Slandering a first responder! How could you do that to your own husband and child?” “You ditch your son and then get mad when your husband saves someone else? You’re unbelievable!” Rotten vegetables rained down on me. Someone threw a bucket of dirty water. The flashing lights hurt my eyes, and real tears began to fall. In my past life, when I was still under the rubble, my son hadn’t said a word. And the beam still broke. But that was a memory from another life. No one would believe me if I told them. So instead, I collapsed to the ground with a cry of pain. “Oh my god! Look at her back! It’s covered in blood!” “Quick, get some bandages!” The woman who had given me alcohol earlier rushed to my side. My eyes were red as I looked into the cameras. “I never thought… I never thought that running out to find help for my son, without even tending to my own injuries, would be twisted into me abandoning him,” I cried out. “If I really wanted to leave him, why would I have shielded him with my own body… Ah!” The woman poured alcohol on my back, and I screamed in agony. She comforted me while telling the reporters, “It’s true! When she came to us, all she said was ‘save my son.’ If I hadn’t forced her to sit down and get treated, she would have bled out!” The alcohol stung my wounds. Every movement sent a fresh wave of excruciating pain through me. The accusations from the crowd died down. Everyone watched as the wounded mother twitched in agony, their faces filled with pity. Caleb looked at my back, a flicker of remorse in his eyes, before he turned away and muttered, “Serves you right. I never asked you to protect me.” His voice was quiet, but someone heard him. “What did you just say, you little brat?” “See? I told you! A heartless father and a heartless son! Get them! Don’t let them get away! We have to expose these scumbags!” “That’s right! Post it online so everyone knows what they’re really like!” “What are you doing? You can’t do this!” Mark instinctively protected Lily, but that only enraged the crowd further. “He’s still protecting the other woman! Get them! Don’t let any of them go, big or small!” I was helped to the side, just outside the circle of chaos, and watched them through red-rimmed eyes. A small, almost imperceptible smile touched my lips. I wasn’t someone who couldn’t handle pain. In my past life, I hadn’t made a sound when all four of my limbs were being crushed. Mark, oh Mark, I thought. How do you like my acting? Just as the three of them were being shoved and pushed around, a powerful voice roared, “Stop!” I turned my head quickly. A man in a sharp suit was getting out of a black sedan nearby. A helicopter was descending, and rescue personnel were rappelling to the ground. “What is all this commotion?” The middle-aged man in the suit stood in front of Mark, facing the crowd, but his eyes were fixed on me. “Even if he has done something wrong, it should be handled by the law. Since when can you lynch someone just because another person shed a few tears?” I clenched my fists. It was Mark’s mentor, the powerful backer of his family—Arthur Tang. 4 “Sir, you don’t understand. This man tried to kill his own wife, and he…” “I will personally investigate this matter,” Arthur interrupted. “I promise you will all get a satisfactory answer.” He cut through the crowd. “I’m taking him in for questioning now. Please, trust me.” With that, he escorted Mark, Caleb, and Lily away from the volatile scene. Before getting in the car, Lily looked back at me from the safety of Mark’s arms. Her lips were curved in a triumphant, smug smile. I spent a few days in the hospital. As soon as I was discharged, I received an invitation from Arthur Tang. “Sarah, let’s let this whole thing go,” he said, pushing a stack of cash across the table. “I know you’re angry, and I’ve already disciplined Mark. You’ve been married for years. It’s not worth blowing up over something so small. I’ve looked into it. It was all a misunderstanding.” I looked at the twenty thousand dollars and sneered. Mark was one of his protégés, someone he was grooming for a position by his side. This rescue team stint was just a way to pad Mark’s resume, to give it some shine. But I wasn’t going to let that happen. “I will not let Mark get away with this,” I said, pushing the money back. “I know exactly what kind of man he is, Mr. Tang. I will never let a person like that succeed.” Arthur’s eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint in them. “Ms. Jones, don’t push your luck. You’re an orphan. Be careful you don’t end up with nothing. That job you have… you worked very hard to get it, didn’t you?” My brow furrowed. He smirked, stood up, paid the bill, and left. My heart sank. As I suspected, Mark would be cleared of all wrongdoing, and then he would be promoted, just like in my previous life. I took out my phone and dialed a number I hadn’t called in years. “Hello, Grandpa Lou? You once told me I could come to you if I ever needed help. Does that offer still stand?” 5 At Mark’s promotion celebration, it was Lily who stood by his side. I was just passing by when I saw the press event and the promotional posters. I stopped in my tracks. Reporters with cameras swarmed around Mark and Lily, who was holding Caleb’s hand. Lily, dressed in an elegant designer outfit, waved gracefully at the cameras. “We were just doing what anyone would have done,” she said modestly. I heard someone nearby sigh. “Now this is the kind of role model we should be celebrating! So much better than all that celebrity gossip.” “Exactly! Mr. Miller saved so many people in the disaster zone, and his wife, Mrs. Miller, worked tirelessly behind the scenes for three whole months!” “And to think someone tried to ruin their reputation! What kind of person does that? They must be either stupid or evil. Probably a foreign agent!” I froze. “Mrs. Miller worked behind the scenes for three months?” “Yeah! Don’t you watch the news?” “But… I never saw her there.” After I recovered from my injuries, I had returned to the disaster zone and served as the temporary head of the logistics department. I was constantly moving between the front lines and the rear, ensuring that rescuers and victims got the supplies they needed immediately. In those three months, I hadn’t seen Lily, or even Mark, at the front. “You don’t know? You obviously don’t care about the relief efforts. Mrs. Miller was the temporary head of the logistics department!” I was stunned. “But… I was the temporary head of logistics…” “Wait a minute… aren’t you the woman from the news? The one who tried to destroy their reputations?” someone pointed at me. My brow furrowed. I understood immediately. This was Arthur Tang’s doing. Slandering those who didn’t cooperate with him was his signature move. “It’s her!” another person shouted. “The news said she was the one who pretended to be Mrs. Miller and orchestrated the online harassment campaign against them!” “You! You have the nerve to show your face? We were wondering where you’d gone! How dare you slander a hero! You must have a death wish!”

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The city’s underworld knew Damian Thorne as a “mad dog”—a ruthless arms dealer infamous for holding bloodied daggers to throats during poker games. His one known weakness was a preference for women with hourglass figures. His upcoming wedding was to Nina, the beautiful illegitimate daughter of a wealthy family. When my fiancé Caleb heard, he disappeared for three days. I found him confiding in his right-hand man: “Get our men on the escort team for the wedding. No matter what, make sure Nina ends up in my car instead of Damian’s.” Caleb’s voice was strained. “You know his reputation—no woman leaves him unharmed.” His man murmured, “The route is set. But… what about Miss Reed? If Damian finds out you switched brides—” Caleb cut him off with a scornful laugh. “Is he crazy enough to touch my woman? After things settle, I’ll divorce Nina and give Evelyn a grand wedding to make it up to her.” I stood frozen outside, a cold realization washing over me. The boy I’d loved was gone, replaced by a stranger. I would follow his plan. I would play my part. But when the switch was made, I knew it would be Caleb, not me, who would be brought to his knees. As Caleb finished speaking, the soft sound of a woman’s sobs echoed from the private room. Only then did I realize Nina Vance was with them. She was curled up on a leather sofa, her eyes red-rimmed, looking like a startled little rabbit. “Caleb… I’m not worth you taking such a huge risk… Damian will kill you…” He gently wiped a tear from her cheek with his thumb, his voice softer and more tender than I had ever heard it. “I’ve been in this game a long time, Nina. When have I ever been afraid?” A low chuckle escaped him as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her into his lap. “If you really feel that guilty… you can pay me back by giving me a few kids in the future.” The room erupted in a chorus of whoops and whistles. Nina’s face flushed a deep crimson as she buried her face in his chest. “But… what about Miss Reed… Evelyn…” “Evelyn?” Caleb scoffed. “She’s head over heels for me. Even if she finds out, a few sweet words and she’ll be fine.” His men chimed in, their voices loud and confident. “The boss is right! We all grew up with her. She’s seen knives pulled on her and didn’t even flinch, but when it comes to Caleb, she’s a total pushover!” “Tell her to go east, and she’d never dare go west. A little thing like this won’t even register.” “Exactly. Everyone knows she’s been dying to marry the boss for years.” “Man, Caleb, you’ve got it made. You get the sweet and gentle Nina first, with the elegant and noble Miss Reed waiting in the wings. So, which one do you love more?” Caleb didn’t answer. Instead, he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a small velvet box. Inside lay an emerald bracelet, a stunning piece of jewelry with a deep, translucent green that seemed to glow from within. It was the Thorne family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation to the eldest son’s bride. With everyone watching, he fastened it around Nina’s slender wrist. An unspoken vow, louder than any words he could have uttered. Nina gasped, trying to pull her hand away, but he held it firm. “You’re the one who’ll be standing at the altar with me. You should be the one to wear it.” Then, his fingers tracing the cool surface of the gems, he added in a low voice, “Just don’t let Evelyn see it for now. She’s obedient, but she’s sharp. She might get suspicious.” I stood in the hallway, watching the emerald gleam a ghostly green in the dim light, and a silent, bitter laugh escaped me. Caleb’s mother had placed that very bracelet in my hands on her deathbed. It was a century-old symbol of the Thorne family legacy. Because we weren’t officially married yet, I’d felt it wasn’t my place to wear it. I kept it locked in a safe, taking it out every day just to look at it. Three days ago, Caleb had come to my apartment late at night, telling me he needed the bracelet for a pre-wedding ritual. I had opened the safe for him myself. I never imagined the “ritual” was to bestow his family’s honor upon another woman. I turned and fled, stumbling out of the club and into a torrential downpour. Fat, cold raindrops hammered against my skin, the shock of it throwing my mind back seven years, to another storm-swept night. My family, the Reeds, and the Thornes were allies, our fathers bound by blood oaths. When the Thornes fell on hard times, my father secretly supported them, keeping their family afloat. But that loyalty cost us everything. The night the Thorne’s rivals came for us, my mother hid me in the cellar. Through a crack in the door, I watched them torture and slaughter my parents. My father’s blood dripped onto my face, staining my world crimson. When the Thorne reinforcements finally arrived, Caleb was the first to find me. I was a feral animal, biting and kicking, my nails digging into the flesh of his arms, carving bloody furrows. He didn’t seem to feel the pain, his arms like iron bands around me, refusing to let go until I finally collapsed into darkness. Afterward, the Thorne family patriarch, Elias, out of gratitude for my father’s sacrifice, took me in and raised me as his own. From that day on, Caleb was my shadow. He pulled me, piece by piece, from the nightmare of my past. I depended on him for everything. I went to school with him, trained with him, and stood by his side through every bloody battle and back-alley war. I always believed we would be together forever. I never dreamed that the person standing beside him in the end would be someone else. Fine. If this was what he wanted, I would give it to him. When Caleb emerged from the club, the rain was still coming down in sheets. I had been waiting for him in the lobby. He spotted me instantly, dropping his arm from around Nina’s waist and darting behind me. He covered my eyes with his hands, a game we used to play when we were kids. “Guess who.” I pulled his hands away. “Not funny.” He chuckled, draping his arm casually around my shoulders, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Wow, getting brave, aren’t we? Weren’t you worried it was some creep trying to hit on you?” I didn’t answer, my gaze sweeping over the crowd of his men behind him, and over Nina. They all grinned and called out, “Hey, future Mrs. Thorne!” completely unconcerned that I might have witnessed the scene inside. They all knew. When it came to Caleb, I always gave in. Caleb shifted, blocking Nina from my view. “Were you waiting for me?” I nodded. “The rain’s too heavy. I was just taking shelter.” He took my hand, his warm palms rubbing mine to chase away the damp chill. “You know that limited edition Tiffany diamond bracelet you wanted? I made a special trip to the coast to get it for you. Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” “Where is it?” I asked, my voice flat. His eyes flickered involuntarily towards Nina. “It, uh… it had to be custom-ordered. I had them change the design a bit. It probably won’t be ready until after the wedding.” I forced a tight smile and said nothing. While we were waiting for the car, Nina let out a sudden cry. The bracelet on her wrist had snagged on a decorative plant stand. She gave it a sharp tug. The delicate chain snapped, and the bracelet clattered to the marble floor, diamonds scattering like ice chips. It was the exact one I had dreamed of. The one he’d just lied about. A global limited edition of three. I’d mentioned it to him so many times. He’d never paid it any mind. And now, here it was, on another woman’s wrist. Nina frantically knelt to pick up the pieces, slicing her finger on a sharp shard of a shattered diamond. “Ah—” A bead of blood welled up. Instantly, Caleb let go of me and rushed to her side. “Why are you so careless!” He shrugged off his suit jacket, draping it over her shoulders before pulling off his tie and wrapping it tightly around her bleeding finger. That tie had been my birthday gift to him. He loved it, always had it professionally cleaned and pressed. Now, it was stained with her blood. He caught me staring, and a flicker of guilt crossed his face. “Evelyn, I’ve got to get Nina to a doctor. Wait here, I’ll be right back for you.” Before I could answer, he was already helping her into his car, half-carrying her. One of his men tried to smooth things over. “Nina helped the boss out once, you know how it is. Don’t worry about it… We can give you a ride home?” I shook my head and told them to go on without me. I just wanted to see. I wanted to see if Caleb would actually come back. The sky darkened, and the hours ticked by. He never returned. It was only when the Patriarch himself called, demanding to know where I was, that I finally went home. He burst into the villa early the next morning, looking relieved to find me at the breakfast table. “Evelyn, I’m so sorry. The car got a flat tire on the way back last night. We were in a dead zone, no cell signal… I couldn’t get back to you.” I didn’t hear a word he said. My eyes were fixed on the angry red mark on his neck, a mark that was impossible to mistake. As if to tear away the last shred of our pretense, I reached out to touch it. He flinched back, his hand instinctively flying up to tug the silk scarf he was wearing higher on his neck. “Looks weird, right? The Old Man is convinced my luck has been bad lately. He’s making me wear this thing for protection. Won’t let me take it off.” He had a tell when he lied—a subtle tightening of his lips. I lowered my gaze, my nails digging into my palms, the sharp pain a welcome distraction from the burn behind my eyes. “It doesn’t really suit you. Take it off, I’ll tie it again for you.” “No!” He almost jumped, his reaction far too strong. He quickly changed the subject. “Hey, didn’t you say the veil for the wedding was missing a main diamond? Let’s go pick one out today.” He strode quickly to the car, waiting for me. A bitter laugh escaped my lips as a single tear traced a path down my cheek. When I came downstairs, dressed to go out, the scarf was tied securely, hiding everything. The car had barely pulled up to the curb in front of the city’s most exclusive jeweler when we heard shouting from inside. I glanced up at the second-floor VIP lounge. Through the plate-glass window, I saw her again. Nina. Her face was streaked with tears as a group of wealthy socialites surrounded her, shoving her back and forth. Caleb’s hands clenched into fists, his jaw tight as he stared up at the scene. But he didn’t move. Instead, he looked at me. I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to go up there and save her. It wasn’t the first time. Nina had been a dancer since she was a child. She had the body for it, and she knew exactly how to play the victim, making her irresistible to the men in our circle. They called her the “Midnight Rose,” and more than a few debutantes had despised her for years. Once, she was pushed into a pool, and it was Caleb who dove in to rescue her. After that, whenever she found herself in trouble, Caleb was there. And for the situations he couldn’t step into himself, he sent me. When the news broke that the fearsome Damian Thorne intended to marry her, the jealousy of the other women boiled over. These women had done everything to catch Damian’s eye—plastic surgery, brutal workout regimens, anything to fit his supposed “type.” “Are you deaf? Take off the dress! I want to see for myself what kind of body can bewitch the great Damian Thorne.” “Please, ladies, don’t do this… there are people watching…” Nina pleaded, her voice trembling. “Stop acting so innocent! You think Damian hasn’t seen it? How else would he know what you’ve got?” “If he can look, why can’t we?” “Are you going to take it off, or are we going to do it for you?” Just as they backed her into a corner, Caleb gave me a slight push. “Evelyn, go!” I stumbled forward, nearly losing my balance. He didn’t even notice, his eyes still glued to Nina. A self-mocking smile touched my lips as I turned and headed for the stairs. The moment she saw me, Nina expertly ducked behind me, her voice shaking. “Miss Reed, help me…” I shot a cold look at the women in front of us. “You’re going to publicly humiliate her and force her to strip? Not worried about ending up on the front page tomorrow?” The ringleader, a girl named Chloe Sterling, just smirked. “Evelyn, we’re just curious. And you should be careful. She’s not as innocent as she looks.” “Yeah, Evelyn,” another one chimed in. “I saw Caleb taking her to a hotel just the other day. Aren’t you the least bit suspicious?” Nina shook her head violently. “No! Evelyn, don’t listen to them! It’s all lies!” As she spoke, she clutched my arm, her grip like a vise, subtly pulling me backward. I tried to shake her off, but she held on tight. “Lies? Or are you just too scared to admit it!” “I saw you both going in yesterday—” Before the girl could finish, in the split second I tried to wrench my arm free, Nina let out a piercing scream and threw herself backward, tumbling over the railing to the floor below. “NINA!” Caleb moved like a lightning bolt, diving to catch her. They both crashed to the ground in a heap. “Nina… are you okay? Are you hurt?!” She seemed stunned, then slowly looked up at me, fresh tears streaming down her face. “Miss Reed… why did you push me? Did you really believe them?” Caleb’s head snapped up, his eyes filled with a chilling coldness. “Evelyn! I sent you up there to help her, not to push her!” I saw the flash of triumph in Nina’s eyes and suddenly understood why she had been pulling me backward the entire time. “She jumped.” Nina immediately buried her face in Caleb’s chest, her voice a muffled, pitiful whisper. “No… it was my fault… I slipped.” She was trembling, the very picture of a terrified victim. Caleb clutched her tighter, his heart clearly breaking for her. “I saw the whole thing from down here! You pushed her! How dare you lie to my face?!” Looking at the disgust in his eyes, I felt a profound sense of exhaustion. It was a perfectly staged performance, and nothing I said would ever convince him otherwise. “If anything happens to her,” he snarled, “I will never forgive you.” Then, ignoring the stares of the other customers, he swept Nina up into his arms and stormed out of the store. Just before they left, Nina peeked over his shoulder and shot me a triumphant smirk. Chloe and her friends saw it too. Chloe gritted her teeth. “That bitch! I knew she did it on purpose.” “Evelyn, he’s about to marry you, and she still has the nerve to seduce him. Aren’t you going to—” She cut herself off, probably remembering the rumors about me being a spineless doormat when it came to Caleb. When I got back to the villa, Caleb was already there, pacing like a caged animal. He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me toward the door. “Nina’s in the hospital, she’s in shock because of you. You’re going to go and apologize.” I ripped my arm from his grasp, meeting his icy glare. “I told you, I didn’t push her. Why should I apologize?” “I only trust what I saw. Evelyn, don’t make me angry.” And then he did it. He pulled out the silver locket my father had left me. It was the last thing I had of him. I had given it to Caleb as a symbol of our engagement, the most precious thing I owned. My heart stopped, and an icy wind seemed to howl through my soul. “You’re… you’re using this to threaten me?” “I’m not threatening you. Just apologize, and everything goes back to normal.”

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I spent days glued to the ticketing app, pulling all-nighters, before I finally managed to snag two front-row, center-stage tickets to the Starlight Gala, headlined by my boyfriend’s idol. I was about to screenshot the confirmation to send to him when a message from him popped up first. “Kiki’s a die-hard fan and couldn’t get a ticket. I gave yours to her.” “Besides, watching the livestream at home is the same for you. The venue is just a loud, crowded mess.” I stared at my now-empty ticketing app. After a moment of silence, I sent a voice message to my own brother, who also happens to be his idol. “Ash, I need a favor at the gala tonight. The girl sitting in my seat… yeah, can you call her up on stage and ask her where she got her ticket?” 1 The second I sent it, a video call from my brother, Asher Chang, came through. “That bastard Leo messing with you again?” His voice cut through the background noise, sharp and commanding. I didn’t say anything. I just sent him the screenshots of Leo’s messages. He read them and let out a low curse. “Front-row tickets? I told you I had house seats reserved for you through Wang, but you said no!” “You had to go on about wanting the ‘shared experience of working for something together.’ Is this your shared experience?” “Nina, are you an idiot?” I sniffled, holding back the wave of emotion. “Ash, I just need you to do me this one favor.” He’s been in the entertainment industry for years. He understood my intention instantly. The fury on his face morphed into a smile so cold it could freeze water. “Right. Got it.” “I’ll have Wang leave your original house ticket at the VIP entrance. Just pick it up when you get here.” “Tonight, your big brother is going to get you some payback. You’re in for a good show.” As soon as Asher hung up, Leo called. His tone was matter-of-fact, laced with an undercurrent of blame. “Nina, why are you throwing a tantrum? Not answering my texts or calls.” “Kiki told me you seemed upset.” I ignored his opening salvo, my voice like ice. “Leo, what gives you the right to touch my tickets?” He seemed taken aback by my directness but quickly found his footing. “I was just trying to cheer her up. She’s been so stressed with her grad school applications, she’s lost weight, she’s on the verge of a breakdown.” “You’re her best friend. Can’t you be a little more considerate?” His logic was so twisted it was almost funny. “She’s stressed, so she needs my tickets? Am I her mother or her therapist?” He clearly wasn’t expecting this kind of pushback from me. He shifted tactics, smoothly sliding into his usual manipulation. “Besides, are you going to see me, or are you going to see Asher Chang? You’re not even his fan, so what does it matter where you sit?” “Kiki has waited years just to get a glimpse of him. Can’t you just help make her dream come true? Why are you being so selfish all of a sudden?” My heart turned to stone as he belittled the sleepless nights I’d spent, reducing my efforts to a meaningless “what does it matter where you sit.” All my effort, in his eyes, was worth nothing. My voice was quiet but clear. “I got the tickets so I could go with you to see your idol. Is that concept really so hard to understand, Leo?” My calmness seemed to enrage him. His voice rose, thick with disappointment and accusation. “Why are you making such a big deal out of this? It’s just a ticket!” “Kiki already said she’d take a ton of high-def pictures for you. She even promised to try and get you some signed merch. Isn’t that enough?” He seemed to think my issue was the material loss. His tone softened into a patronizing drawl. “Alright, alright, stop making a scene. I know you worked hard.” “I’ll treat you to a nice dinner to make up for it.” “You just be a good girl and watch the livestream at home. Kiki and I will send you updates.” His condescending generosity made my stomach turn. I couldn’t stand to hear another word from him. I hung up the phone. Then, I turned, opened my closet, and pulled out the haute couture gown Asher had sent over last week. Tucked inside the box was a pass. Embossed in gold foil were the words: ARTIST FAMILY – ALL ACCESS. Oh, I wasn’t just going to the gala. I was going to make an entrance. That evening, another message from Leo arrived. “What are you up to? The show’s about to start. Don’t forget to tune into the livestream, babe.” It was followed by a forty-second voice memo. “Kiki said the fan club is planning a surprise for Asher tonight. They need to pass a giant light-up banner around the outside of the stadium.” “There’s a huge crowd, and they’re short-handed. It’s just a few of them.” “Since you’re not doing anything anyway, could you go help them out? Keep an eye on things.” “You’d be doing it for Asher, too. Kiki would be really grateful.” I listened silently, my mind flashing back to our freshman year. Leo had entered a campus singing competition. To support him, I’d stayed up for nights on end, hand-making him banners and a light-up sign. The day of the show, I excitedly presented them to him. He’d looked at them with disgust. “What’s all this tacky stuff? It’s so childish. It’ll throw me off my game.” And then he’d tossed everything I’d worked so hard on into the nearest trash can. Now, to please Kiki, he was shamelessly trying to use me as free labor to carry some stupid fan banner. I fought back a wave of nausea and replied with a single word: “Okay.” He immediately sent a “pat on the head” sticker, his tone oozing with condescending approval. “I knew you were the most understanding. See? I take good care of you.” “Kiki will be so touched when she finds out. Just wait by the East Gate, someone from the club will contact you.” I closed the chat and saw Kiki had just updated her social media. A nine-photo grid of selfies, geotagged right outside the concert venue. Her caption read: “Finally about to see the light I’ve chased my entire youth. Thank you to my little sun for always supporting me~” In the photos, she wore a full face of glamorous makeup, posing cutely for the camera. And on her wrist was the silver chain-link bracelet I had personally woven for Leo. The one with the small charm engraved with my initials: NJ. Beneath the post, Leo’s comment was a stab to the heart. “You’re the brightest star tonight.” I sneered and shut my phone, unable to look at the filth any longer. I took the black velvet gown from my closet and changed. The person in the mirror looked back at me, her eyes cool and clear, stripped of their usual warmth and compliance. I didn’t go to the crowded East Gate. Our family’s black town car bypassed the sea of fans and pulled up smoothly to the venue’s VIP entrance. Asher’s manager, Wang, was already waiting, impeccably dressed in a suit. “There you are, my little princess. Asher’s been asking about you nonstop.” Wang greeted me with a professional smile, handing me a laminate pass. “Come on, let’s get you inside. Too many fans out here, it’s not safe.” I nodded, but just as I was about to follow him, a sharp, theatrically surprised voice called out from nearby. “Nina?” It was Kiki. She was clinging to Leo’s arm, about to go through the general admission line, when she spotted me. “What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be at the East Gate with the fan club?” Leo saw me too. He froze for a second, then his brow furrowed in annoyance. He dropped Kiki’s arm and strode towards me, his face showing no pleasure at the unexpected meeting, only irritation. “What are you doing here?” he demanded. “The fan club has been waiting for you at the East Gate. They said you weren’t answering your phone. Are you throwing another childish fit?” His voice was loud, drawing the attention of fans still waiting to enter. Kiki scurried over, expertly grabbing his sleeve to play her favorite role: the peacemaker. She looked at me with feigned concern, her voice dripping with honey. “Nina, are you lost?” “This is the staff entrance. We fans aren’t allowed through here.” “You should hurry to the East Gate, or you’ll miss the fan event. Everyone will be mad at you.” I watched their pathetic little performance, finding it utterly ridiculous. I ignored Kiki and looked straight at Leo. “I’m not going to the East Gate. I’m going in through here.” Leo scoffed as if I’d told the funniest joke in the world. He looked me up and down, his eyes filled with contempt. “You’re going in through here?” “Nina, do you have any idea what this is? This is the VIP and artist entrance! Who do you think you are? Asher Chang’s relative?” Kiki covered her mouth with her hand to hide a smirk, then quickly arranged her face into a look of concern, though the triumphant glint in her eyes was unmistakable. “Nina, stop messing around. I know you’re upset about the ticket, but you can’t act out like this just to get attention…” “The security guards will throw you out. It’ll be so embarrassing.” Just then, Wang, who had been standing beside me, poked his head back out. He looked impatient but kept his tone respectful. “Miss Chang, what’s the hold-up? Asher is getting antsy.” Wang’s gaze flickered over Leo and Kiki. He paused for a beat, a flicker of professional recognition, but his training kept him from asking questions. His words, however, made Leo and Kiki freeze on the spot. I dangled the pass Wang had just given me, a slow, meaningful smile spreading across my face. “Sorry, but it looks like my pass works just fine here.” Their faces went rigid, their eyes glued to the laminate in my hand, to the words ARTIST FAMILY printed in bold letters. “How is that possible?” Leo sputtered, lurching forward to snatch the pass and examine it. Wang blocked him with a firm arm, his expression turning sharp. “Mr. Shen, please compose yourself.” Kiki’s face cycled through shades of white and green, her eyes wide with disbelief and a twisting envy. Her mind raced, her lips trembling as she voiced the ugliest possibility she could conjure. “Nina, how did you get that?” “What… what is your relationship with this man?” I couldn’t be bothered to explain. I just offered a light, airy reply: “A relationship you two could never hope to achieve.” That single sentence seemed to ignite Leo’s fragile ego. His brain concocted a ridiculous explanation that, to him, made perfect sense. A tidal wave of fury washed over his face, mixed with disgust and the sting of betrayal. “Nina, I get it now!” he snarled, pointing a trembling finger at me. “You’re so desperate to be a groupie, so obsessed with getting close to Asher Chang, that you’d go and sleep with his staff?” “You make me sick!” Kiki immediately seized on this line of attack, her expression shifting to one of profound disappointment. “Nina, how could you have so little self-respect? You have to be a rational fan!” “How are you any different from those stalker fans who do anything to see their idol?” she continued, shooting a worried glance at Leo. “You’re Leo’s girlfriend! Have you thought about how this makes him look?” I watched their faces, twisted and ugly with jealousy, and finally, I laughed. “You two really don’t need to worry about me.” My smile vanished, my eyes turning cold. “You should be more concerned about yourselves.” I turned and whispered something in Wang’s ear. He nodded, instantly understanding, and made a quick phone call. Less than a minute later, a member of the venue’s security team hurried over. “Excuse me, you two,” he said politely. “Our system shows that due to a last-minute technical issue, your seats have been urgently reassigned. Please come with me.” Before they could even process what was happening, two towering security guards were escorting them away from the VIP entrance. On Wang’s phone, I watched the security feed with great interest. I saw them being led from their front-row seats, all the way up to the most remote corner of the stadium’s top tier. A spot fans nicknamed “Listen-Only Lane” because of the giant support pillar that blocked most of the stage. I paid the two clowns no more mind and followed Wang to the dressing room marked “ASHER CHANG – PRIVATE.” The man who was a superstar on stage stood up the moment I walked in. “There you are, you little brat. Finally decided to come see your big brother.” Asher pulled me into a huge hug. “You’ve lost weight again. Has that Shen kid not been taking care of you?” I told him everything that had just happened at the door. “They think you slept your way in? Their imaginations are pathetically limited.” He ruffled my hair, his voice soothing, but with a hard, dangerous edge. “Don’t worry. This is one Starlight Gala they will never forget.” The show began. The music swelled, and Asher burst onto the stage from a rising platform. The entire stadium erupted, the screams threatening to tear the roof off. Out of habit, I scrolled through my social media. Sure enough, Kiki had posted again, gushing about being at the show while also taking subtle digs at me for using “underhanded means” to get close to Asher. Just then, Wang’s phone began to vibrate nonstop. He showed it to me. The core fan groups for Asher were exploding. Kiki’s post had been immediately shared by her friend, one of the fan club admins. A narrative was quickly forming. People were breathlessly describing how some industry plant had not only slept her way backstage but had also abused her connections to maliciously move a true, die-hard fan from a prime front-row seat to the nosebleeds. The rumors escalated, growing more vicious with each retelling. Someone had even dug up my university information and started attacking me personally. “She uses her looks to seduce staff members, she has no shame!” “Stalkers like her should be kicked out of the fandom!” “My heart breaks for our angel Kiki. She had to suffer such a huge injustice and still pretend to be strong.” I stared at the vile comments on the screen, my expression growing colder by the second. When Asher came backstage after his first set, he saw my face immediately. He glanced at the phone in Wang’s hand, and a dangerous glint appeared in his eyes. “Excellent.” He wasn’t angry. He was smiling. “They’ve built the stage themselves. It would be a shame not to give them a starring role.” He turned to Wang. “Tell the director to move up the fan interaction segment.” The host came back on stage, beaming. “We have a surprise for you all! It’s time for a special fan interaction!” Asher took the microphone, his eyes scanning the massive crowd. He smiled. “Tonight, I want to invite a very special fan to the stage,” he announced. “She’s holding a ticket that means the world to me.” A single, brilliant spotlight shot out, controlled by the director, and landed precisely on the front row. On the now-empty seats where Leo and Kiki were supposed to be. The light lingered there for three long seconds, building the suspense. Then, slowly, dramatically, the beam began to travel upwards, climbing past row after row of cheering fans, a solitary beacon sweeping across a sea of people. Finally, under the watchful eyes of thousands, it came to a stop in the highest, most remote corner of the stadium, and landed squarely on Kiki.

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I’m Isabelle Thorne, the sole heiress to Thorne Industries. When I was ten, my grandfather handpicked four boys from an orphanage to groom as potential husbands. They were to be cultivated into brilliant men, with the hope that one of them would one day stand by my side, helping me helm the Thorne empire. The business world called them the “Four Prodigies of Crestwood.” But they all seemed to keep me, the heiress, at a careful distance. Even Aiden Vance, the one I had secretly adored for years, had given his heart to someone else. Now, from his sickbed, my grandfather asked me which one I would choose. I left my fate to the spin of a wheel, a random draw to decide my future husband. I never imagined it would land on the most rebellious of them all: Caleb Blackwood. At our engagement party, however, Aiden showed up, his eyes bloodshot, and begged me not to cast him aside. I just offered him a small, cool smile and dangled our freshly signed marriage certificate in front of his face. “You’re too late, Mr. Vance. My husband is taking me home now.” As I turned away, I heard the sound of shattering porcelain behind me, followed by Aiden’s choked, desperate whisper. 1. My grandfather’s gaze settled on the name at the top of the list, his brow furrowed in concern. “Isabelle, are you sure? We can choose someone else.” I knew what he was worried about. For years, anyone with eyes could see how I felt about Aiden Vance. Whenever he was in the room, my attention drifted to him like a compass needle to true north. The joke was, he never once looked back. I shook my head. “No, Grandpa.” “I believe this is fate.” He sighed, knowing better than to argue. He knew that once I’d made up my mind, a team of wild horses couldn’t drag me in another direction. When I stepped out of the study, the four men were lounging on the sofas in the living room, chatting casually. “So, Izzy, who did you pick?” Leo Martinez asked, his eyes dancing with a familiar, gossipy light. He was always the most animated of the group. Ryan Sterling slung an arm around Aiden’s shoulders, grinning. “Do you even have to ask? It’s gotta be our boy Aiden. The man’s got charm; he was bound to win the prize!” Aiden shoved his arm off with a look of disgust, his cold eyes landing on me. “Even if your grandfather forces me to marry you, I will never love you. My heart will always belong to Georgia.” A bitter laugh escaped me, but the familiar sting in my heart was impossible to ignore. Ever since we were children, whenever someone bullied me, he was always the first to step in, my self-appointed protector. Back then, I truly believed he was my knight, my fated prince. But everything changed the summer he turned seventeen. Seeing my silence, his tone softened, though it was laced with condescension. “We can be married in name only, but we can’t announce it to the public. And I’m going to keep seeing Georgia. You are not to do anything to hurt her.” The words were a slap to my pride. What did he take me for? Some desperate, scheming woman willing to do anything to marry him? I shot back a cold smile. “What makes you so sure I’d ever choose you?” Aiden scoffed, his eyes dripping with contempt. “Not choose me? Isabelle, who else could you possibly choose?” His arrogance was nauseating. What on earth gave this man the right to think I was his for the taking? Just because I’d been foolish enough to love him once? “You really don’t have to disgust me like this, Aiden,” I said, my voice flat. “Go marry whoever you want.” “What are you talking about?” he demanded, his brow furrowing. Just then, a delicate, white figure burst into the room. Georgia Summers fell to her knees before me, her face a mask of perfectly crafted tears. “Miss Thorne, please, I’m begging you, don’t take Aiden from me. He’s all I have…” Before I could even speak, Aiden was already rushing to her side, helping her up with a pained expression. He glared at me. “Isabelle, look what you’ve done! Do you have any idea how much Georgia has suffered because of you over the years? And now you force her to beg you out of your own selfishness!” 2. I watched the familiar scene unfold and could only find it laughable. Seven years ago, on an afternoon just like this, Georgia had “accidentally” knocked over my desk, then spun a tale of how I had bullied her. And Aiden, without even asking what happened, had torn into me. Now, here we were again. Same play, same actors. I lifted my hand and swung. The sharp crack of the slap echoed through the room. Aiden’s head snapped to the side, his eyes wide with disbelief. Before he could recover, I turned and delivered another slap, this one to Georgia’s tear-streaked face. “Since you two love painting me as the villain, I might as well play the part.” “Isabelle, how dare you hit Georgia!” Aiden roared, lunging at me. Leo and Ryan immediately jumped in, holding him back. Aiden struggled against their grip, his eyes turning red with fury. “You just wait, Isabelle. Even if you got down on your knees and begged me now, I would never marry you!” “Let’s go, Georgia!” He grabbed her hand and stormed out. Ryan stood there awkwardly. “Isabelle, Aiden’s just blowing off steam…” I managed a thin smile, ignored him, and walked back to my room. The moment the door clicked shut, I leaned against the wood, sliding down to the floor. The day Georgia arrived, it was like a switch flipped in Aiden. He started questioning my every word, finding fault in everything I did. The boy who once protected me had become the one who hurt me the most. A bitter smile touched my lips as I felt the lingering heat on my palm. In a strange way, it felt liberating. At least I had severed this tie myself, before he ever knew my real choice. He’d probably be thrilled when he found out the truth, wouldn’t he? After all, he was finally free of the girl who had “hounded” him for so long. 3. After a restless night, I was woken by a call from my best friend. “Have you seen the news?” she urged. I groggily opened my phone. The screen was flooded with headlines: Aiden Vance had officially announced Georgia Summers as his fiancée. A grand wedding was imminent. The internet was abuzz with congratulations, though a few industry insiders posted comments asking: But what about the Thorne heiress? Aiden himself had replied to one: Her? She can go to hell for all I care. I stared at the comment, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. Tears welled in my eyes, but I stubbornly refused to let them fall. All those years… even if he didn’t love me, did he really think I was that worthless? A knock on my door pulled me from my thoughts. “Miss Isabelle, your grandfather wants you downstairs immediately. He says it’s urgent.” I took a deep breath and splashed cold water on my burning face. The girl in the mirror looked presentable enough, aside from the slight redness around her eyes. As I reached the top of the stairs, I heard my grandfather’s furious roar from the living room. “Aiden Vance! You will explain this to me right now!” I paused on the landing, hidden from view. Aiden stood in the center of the room, a defiant look on his face, while Georgia cowered behind him, the very picture of pitiable innocence. “There’s nothing to explain,” Aiden sneered. “Georgia and I are in love. Why should I sacrifice myself for Isabelle?” My grandfather’s hand, gripping his cane, trembled with rage. “If I hadn’t taken you out of that orphanage, you’d be—” “So what?” Aiden cut him off. “Just because you did me a favor, I have to sacrifice my own happiness?” He wrapped an arm around Georgia’s shoulders. “I can sign the papers with Isabelle for the sake of the company, but the first wedding of my life, the real one, will be with Georgia!” His shameless declaration stunned everyone in the room. I saw Caleb Blackwood’s knuckles turn white. A second later, he surged forward and drove his fist into Aiden’s face. “Have you got no fucking shame?” Caleb roared. Aiden staggered back, wiping a smear of blood from his lip, his eyes dark with hatred. That’s when I descended the stairs, my voice calm and quiet. “Grandpa, it’s alright. Let him have his wedding.” Aiden froze, his head snapping toward me in surprise. But I met his gaze with a placid expression, as if looking at a complete stranger. A flicker of unease crossed his face. He clearly hadn’t expected me to let go so easily. I helped my trembling grandfather back to his room. The entire way, I could feel Aiden’s stunned gaze on my back, but I didn’t turn around. “Isabelle, I’ve failed you,” Grandpa said, his old, frail hand gripping mine as he sat on the edge of his bed. “I was blind to bring that ungrateful wolf into our home.” I shook my head, my voice soft. “Don’t be angry, Grandpa. It’s not worth it.” “No!” he suddenly exclaimed, his energy returning. “No one humiliates a Thorne like this! Don’t you worry. I’ll throw you an engagement party grander than anything he could ever dream of!” I nodded silently, a bitter taste filling my mouth. 4. A few days later, I was at the office when a frantic call came from the estate manager of the house I was preparing for my marriage. “Miss Thorne, it’s terrible! Mr. Vance is here with Miss Summers, and they’re tearing the house apart!” I raced over. The moment I pushed open the door, the scene inside felt like a knife twisting in my gut. The furniture I had personally selected was being brutally dismantled. The custom murals on the walls were being scraped off by workmen without a second thought. Georgia was nestled against Aiden’s side, watching the destruction with a triumphant smirk. “Aiden! What gives you the right to touch my house?” I demanded, storming toward him. He shot me a cold sneer. “This is mine and Georgia’s home now. If you try to stop this, don’t blame me for not showing up to your little engagement party.” “Aiden, maybe we should just leave…” Georgia murmured, feigning concern while her eyes gleamed with victory. “Don’t be silly, Georgia,” Aiden said, pulling her closer. “Only you deserve a place like this.” “Get out of my house! Now!” I screamed. Aiden just laughed and waved the workers on. Suddenly, a sharp crack echoed from above. The crystal chandelier, a piece worth a fortune, had come loose. It was plummeting directly toward me. Aiden reacted in a flash, yanking Georgia out of the way. I was standing right under it. I saw his eyes flicker to me, just for a second, but he didn’t move. Not an inch. The immense weight crashed onto my back, sending shards of glass flying everywhere. A searing pain shot through me, and my legs gave out. I could feel warm liquid streaming down my back. “Help… me…” I gasped, reaching a trembling hand toward him. But then Georgia let out a shriek. “My leg! The glass cut my leg, Aiden, it hurts so much!” Aiden looked from me, bleeding on the floor, to Georgia and her superficial scratch. He hesitated for only a second. Without another thought, he scooped Georgia into his arms, turning his back on me. “Just hang on, Isabelle, I’ll call an ambulance for you. I have to get Georgia to the hospital, she’s in pain.” With those words, he rushed out the door. Lying in the wreckage, watching his retreating back, I started to laugh. A raw, broken sound. So this was my worth in his eyes. My life wasn’t even as important as a tiny cut on Georgia’s leg. Blood soaked through my dress as my vision began to blur. Through the haze, I heard the sound of frantic footsteps. “Isabelle!” A familiar voice, laced with a panic I’d never heard before. Caleb. He dropped to his knees beside me, carefully avoiding the glass shards as he gently scooped me into his arms. His hands were trembling, but his grip was so light, so terrified of causing me more pain. “Stay with me. We’re almost at the hospital.” I leaned against his warm chest, the faint scent of tobacco and something uniquely him surrounding me. This man, always so wild and defiant, was now holding me as if I were made of spun glass. He moved with a speed that was almost desperate, yet his steps were steady, cradling me against the jarring motion. I could feel his heart hammering against his ribs, a frantic, thunderous rhythm. “Doctor! Somebody help her!” he yelled, his voice cracking with a raw, desperate edge. 5. The light above the operating room door stayed on for what felt like an eternity. Through a fog of anesthesia, I could hear shouting from the hallway. “Who the hell do you think you are, showing up now?” It was Caleb, his voice a raw, furious roar. “I… I just came to see how Isabelle is,” Aiden stammered, his voice thin and hollow. “Get out,” Caleb snarled, his voice as cold as ice. “You don’t even have the right to say her name.” I heard a dull thud, followed by the sounds of Leo and Ryan trying to break up another fight. The surgery was a success, though it left a series of scars across my back. Caleb refused to leave my side, delegating all his work to his assistant. Every time the nurse came to change my dressings, he would watch her every move, his jaw tight with tension. “Does it hurt?” he would always ask, his voice barely a whisper. I would shake my head, a dull ache forming in my chest as I looked at the worry etched between his brows. The man who presented a devil-may-care attitude to the world was so endearingly clumsy when it came to caring for me. Leo and Ryan were frequent visitors, always armed with soups and supplements. As for Aiden, after that day outside the operating room, he never appeared again. Instead, news of him and Georgia frequenting lavish restaurants and clubs constantly surfaced, as if he were deliberately flaunting his new life in my face. The day of the engagement party arrived all too quickly. Caleb had personally chosen a champagne-colored gown for me. Its open-back design perfectly concealed my scars. The party was in full swing for over an hour before Aiden made his grand entrance. He had Georgia, draped in a scandalous red dress, on his arm as he strode in, his eyes sweeping the room with a look of pure provocation. Whispers rippled through the hall. I could feel the gazes of the guests on me—some filled with pity, others with unconcealed glee. Georgia clung to Aiden’s arm, flashing me a triumphant, venomous smile. My grandfather sat at the head table, his expression grim. His disappointment in his once-favored prodigy was palpable. “Isabelle, you should get on with the announcement,” Aiden said loudly, his tone laced with impatience. “I promised Georgia I’d take her to see the meteor shower tonight, and we’re running out of time.” Georgia tugged on his sleeve, feigning modesty. “Aiden, don’t be like that…” She turned to me, her eyes shimmering with fake apology. “Miss Thorne, I really just wanted to come and offer my congratulations…” I watched the nauseating performance of this despicable pair as the murmurs in the crowd grew louder. “Didn’t they say Miss Thorne was engaged to Mr. Vance?” “This is a public humiliation for the Thorne family…” “After everything the Thornes did for him, Aiden Vance has no gratitude at all…” Leo and Ryan stood nearby, their expressions showing their clear disgust with Aiden’s behavior. I saw Caleb’s fist clench at his side, looking like he was seconds away from launching himself at Aiden. I took a deep, calming breath and plastered an elegant smile on my face. “My dear guests,” I began, my voice ringing out clearly across the silent hall. “Thank you all for taking the time to join me tonight for my engagement party. Today, I would like to introduce you all to my future husband…” At my words, Aiden preened, adjusting his suit jacket with a smug smirk playing on his lips. “Caleb Blackwood,” I finished, my eyes locked on Aiden’s face. I watched the triumphant smile freeze and shatter. “From this day forward, Caleb will be my partner, and the new son-in-law of Thorne Industries.”

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1 I did three years in prison for my wife, Ava Deveaux. When I got out, my “launch party” bonus for her new company was a single dollar bill. For a second, I thought it was a mistake. But then I saw my colleague, Leo Vance, open his envelope. He got a single bill, too. Relief washed over me, and I spent the rest of the day happily helping Ava with the grand opening. That night, though, I was scrolling through social media when I saw Leo’s latest post. It was a picture of a check. The caption read: “Cheers to the official launch! The boss is incredibly generous. A ten-million-dollar bonus to start things off right!” The comments section was a flood of envy and congratulations, wishing him and the “boss” all the best. When I confronted Ava, she didn’t even try to explain. She just pushed me away. “You just got out of prison, Ethan. It wouldn’t look good for us to be public right now. Let’s keep our marriage a secret for a while. At the office, you’ll just call me Ms. Deveaux.” A moment later, her phone pinged. She’d just liked Leo’s post. I wiped a tear from my eye and made a call to her biggest rival. “I’m in,” I said into the phone. “From now on, I work for you.” … “You were willing to do three years of hard time for Ava Deveaux’s career,” the voice on the other end said. “Why the sudden change of heart? Why come to me?” “I seem to remember she promised you a department manager position when you got out. Are you sure you want to throw that away?” I rubbed the cheap, crinkled one-dollar bill between my fingers, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “Yeah. I’m sure.” Just as the words left my mouth, Ava appeared in front of me, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “What don’t you want anymore?” I calmly ended the call and told her the truth. “The department manager position.” A flicker of something—relief?—crossed her complex expression. “Good. I was planning on giving it to Leo anyway. You can start as a junior assistant.” Her words made me frown. I had endured three years behind bars for her company. She had sworn to me, promised me that the manager role would be mine the day I walked free. Now, I was being demoted to an errand boy. And as she shattered that three-year-old promise, there wasn’t a trace of guilt in her eyes. A hot sting flooded my eyes, and a sharp pain bloomed in my chest. Seeing my silence, Ava pulled a document from her briefcase and tossed it onto the coffee table. “This is a secret marriage agreement,” she said, her tone breezy and dismissive. “It’s for the good of the company.” The words SECRET MARRIAGE AGREEMENT burned into my vision. The day before I went to prison, she had rushed me to City Hall to get our marriage license. The only thing that got me through those three years was the dream of the life we would build when I was free. Now, it seemed I was an embarrassment. A secret to be hidden away. I let out a silent, self-mocking laugh and reached for the pen on the table. Ava’s head snapped around. She frowned, watching my hand move toward the signature line. The man who had once wanted to shout their marriage from the rooftops was now signing it away without a second thought. She instinctively pressed her hand down on mine, her next words catching me off guard. “You’re not even going to think about it?” Without looking up, I signed my name. She stared at the signed agreement, a strange, unreadable silence falling over her. After a moment, she cleared her throat, her voice softening. “Don’t worry, Ethan. Once the company is stable, I’ll make it up to you. I promise.” I gave a noncommittal grunt. Just then, the company group chat lit up. An announcement: Leo Vance had been appointed the company’s first Department Manager. Congratulations poured in. [Leo, you’ve been by Ms. Deveaux’s side this whole time. We all saw how hard you worked. You earned this!] [I’m calling it now. Department Manager today, Mr. Deveaux tomorrow! We’ll have to be extra nice to you from now on.] Leo responded with a smug emoji, a silent confirmation. Then, another message popped up, this one clearly aimed at me. [I think Ethan is the lucky one here. Gets out of jail and our boss gives him a job as an assistant. She’s so generous!] He knew the truth. This was pure mockery. I forced my eyes away from the screen, only to see Ava staring at her own phone. The smile on her face was a kind of gentle, radiant warmth I had never seen directed at me. It made me wonder. Was this secret marriage for the company, or was it for Leo? To honor our new “agreement,” Ava moved from our master bedroom into the guest room. She laid out other rules, too: We were not to be seen arriving in the same car. We were not to speak at the office, where I was only to address her as “Ms. Deveaux.” And, most importantly, her relationship with Leo was “just an act for the public,” and I was not to “make a scene.” After laying down the law, she disappeared for three days. It wasn’t until I called in sick with a fever that she finally bothered to phone me. “You’ve only been back at work for a few days and you’re already taking time off? Aren’t you being a little dramatic?” she said, her voice sharp. “You’ll have to get yourself to a doctor. I’m out of town on business. I can’t take you.” It was exactly what I expected. I mumbled a weak “okay.” But before I could hang up, a familiar male voice called out from her end of the line. “Ava, darling, can you come help me with my tie?” She ended the call abruptly, but not before I heard the rustle of her moving quickly toward him. I checked Leo’s social media. He had a new profile picture. It was a matching half of a couple’s photo. Ava’s was the other half. I remembered all the times I had begged her to use a couple’s avatar with me. She always had an excuse: it was tacky, childish, unprofessional. For some reason, my silence seemed to drive her crazy. My phone blew up with a storm of texts and missed calls from her. I sent a single reply: [I’m on my personal time. Please respect that, Ms. Deveaux.] After getting an IV drip at an urgent care clinic, I went back to the office. As usual, my coworkers treated me with a cool distance, piling their grunt work onto my desk. In their eyes, I was just some ex-con lucky enough to be taken in by the boss. I was expected to earn my keep. I took a deep breath and began clearing out my desk drawer. All the little couple’s trinkets, photos, and matching mugs went into a black trash bag. If I’d known they would never see the light of day, I wouldn’t have bothered bringing them. I was on my way to the dumpster when Ava returned. Before I could react, she grabbed my arm, her grip furious, and dragged me into the stairwell. Her eyes landed on the trash bag in my hand, and her face darkened. “You have time to take out the trash, but you don’t have time to answer my calls?” The strong scent of a man’s expensive cologne clung to her, and I instinctively took a step back. “I replied to your text,” I said calmly. My placid response seemed to ignite her rage. “Why would you call me ‘Ms. Deveaux’ in a text?” What was the difference between a text and in person? She was the one who made the rule. Why was she angry that I was following it? Seeing I had no intention of explaining, she let out a cold laugh. “You know I can’t stand petty, insecure men, Ethan. Don’t become someone I despise.” With that, she snatched the bag from my hand and slammed it onto the concrete floor. The crash echoed in the empty stairwell as she stormed away. Staring at the shattered picture frame and the matching mugs we’d once bought, my heart fractured right along with them. Our years together were ending in the same broken heap. I cleaned up the mess, then called a lawyer and had him draft divorce papers. When I had the document in hand, I printed a copy and walked to her office. I was steeling myself to knock when the door swung open. I met her cold, impatient gaze and held the papers out to her. “Sign this when you have a moment.” Ava didn’t even glance at the first page. She flipped straight to the back, scrawled her signature, and handed it back as if it were a meaningless memo. “You’re coming with me to a client dinner tonight,” she ordered. “Be useful. You’ll be blocking drinks for us.” I was confused. Ava could drink anyone under the table. Why would she need me to run interference? Before I could ask, Leo popped up from behind her, a smug grin on his face. “You’re so thoughtful, boss! You remembered I have a cold and can’t drink.” He casually sat next to her, slinging an arm around her shoulder. He glanced at me, then complained with a theatrical pout, “Ava worries too much. It’s just a little cold, but she wouldn’t let me work or drink. I had to beg her to bring me to this dinner.” Ava responded by playfully tapping his nose. “Just make sure you take your medicine later, and don’t complain about it.” They looked exactly like a couple in the throes of a new romance. Her tenderness toward him was something I had never experienced. Clutching the signed divorce papers, a strange sense of peace settled over me. At the restaurant, after Ava exchanged pleasantries with our potential client, she began the introductions. “This is Leo Vance, our department manager.” When she got to me, the client’s brow furrowed. “I remember this man. He went to prison for financial fraud, didn’t he? You’re a very loyal person, Ms. Deveaux.” Ava tensed, shot me a look, and then forced a smile, offering no correction. Throughout the dinner, she and Leo were practically glued together. She kept shooting me pointed looks, signaling for me to intercept any drinks headed his way. At one point, another guest, noticing their intimacy, teased, “You two make a lovely couple, Ms. Deveaux. Are you married?” The question hung in the air. Ava’s eyes darted to me, a flicker of uncertainty in them. Then, almost in perfect unison, we both said: “No.” Even though we’d given the same answer, her head whipped around to stare at me, her eyes wide with shock. When the client excused himself to the restroom, my phone buzzed with a text from her: [It’s all an act, Ethan. Don’t take it personally.] She might have been acting, but I was telling the truth. After all, she had already signed the papers. I read the text and placed my phone face down on the table. Across from me, Ava started to rise, but I turned and headed for the restroom myself. Coming out of a stall, I ran right into Leo. He stood with his arms crossed, the very picture of a victor. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a man, Ethan,” he sneered. “Your own wife is so ashamed of you she won’t even admit you exist. If I were you, I’d be too embarrassed to show my face.” I ignored him, washing my hands. “That’s really not your concern, Leo.” I dried my hands and moved to leave, but he stepped in front of me, looking me up and down with disdain. “Shouldn’t the boss’s husband be wearing something other than rags?” He feigned a look of realization. “Oh, right. I forgot. Ava must have spent all her money on my custom designer wardrobe. My bad.” The expensive labels he wore were a constant reminder of the difference between ten million dollars and one. In that moment, all the bitterness and humiliation I had bottled up exploded. I turned and fled. Back in the private room, I grabbed my coat, ready to leave. “Don’t go yet,” Ava said, rushing to stop me, her voice suddenly gentle. “I’ll drive you home later.” I was about to refuse when Leo burst back into the room, a look of panic on his face, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. Ava let go of me and hurried to his side. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Leo frantically patted down his pockets and rummaged through his bag before crying out in alarm. “My watch! My custom timepiece is gone!” The room descended into a flurry of activity as everyone began searching. “It was a birthday gift from Ava!” Leo lamented loudly. “It’s worth over three hundred thousand dollars! I can’t believe I lost it!” I didn’t know what game he was playing, but I just wanted out. As I reached the door, he blocked my path. “Let me just check your bag, Ethan,” he said, a smug look in his eye. “Just to clear you of any suspicion, of course.” I knew I hadn’t taken it. “I’m tired, Leo. You can look for it yourself.” I tried to push past him, but he grabbed my bag. In the struggle, its contents spilled across the floor. And there, among my scattered belongings, was a watch. I stared at it in shock, then looked up to meet Leo’s triumphant, mocking gaze. “Why are you framing me?” I demanded. I looked around. Everyone was staring at me with contempt. Especially Ava. Her brow was furrowed in a deep V, her eyes filled with disgust. “I didn’t take it,” I said, my voice desperate as I looked at her. But my words were meaningless against the glittering “proof” on the floor. Leo picked up the watch, his voice filled with theatrical hurt. “This watch means so much to me, Ethan. How could you steal it? I thought prison would have changed you, but I see you’re still the same criminal, willing to do anything for money. I don’t think I can feel safe working with you anymore…” His little performance turned the atmosphere in the room toxic. The client was the first to speak, his voice sharp with disapproval. “Ms. Deveaux, I think we’ll have to reconsider this partnership.” With that, he and his team stormed out. I started to go after them to explain, but a sharp sting exploded across my cheek. Ava had slapped me. I looked at her, stunned, but there was no regret in her eyes. “I can’t believe you’re this greedy,” she spat. “I brought you here to help, not to steal!” Her words sealed my fate. Didn’t she know me? After all these years, didn’t she know my character? Had she completely forgotten why I went to prison in the first place? Looking at the fury in her eyes, I knew she would never believe me. I gave a bitter, broken laugh and held out my phone to her. “Then call the police.” She glanced at the phone, then back at me, her brow furrowed. She didn’t move. In that long, silent stare-down, I felt like I was finally seeing the real her. After a moment, she scoffed. “Unbelievable.” She turned her back on me, gently taking the watch and fastening it back onto Leo’s wrist, murmuring soft, comforting words to him as she led him away. I was left alone in the room with the wreckage. I gathered my scattered belongings and went straight to the airport. In the deserted terminal in the middle of the night, I was about to type up my resignation when a notification from Ava beat me to it. It was a termination notice. Her message was laced with fury: [Don’t bother coming into the office again. Stay home and think about what you’ve done.] The absurdity of it made me laugh. Without a second thought, I took a picture of the divorce agreement, signed by both of us, and sent it to her. I attached a message: [Ava, I wish you and Leo a lifetime of happiness together.] [But first, you’re going to finalize this divorce with me. Otherwise, I’ll sue you for bigamy.] The second the message sent, my phone started ringing. It was Ava. A frantic, desperate flood of calls.

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1 My fiancée, Chelan, cut my brake lines just so my childhood friend, Noah Vance, could win the championship. While I lay in a coma, she cleaned out my medical fund and ran off with him. Just as I was about to lose all hope, my old college friend, Amelia, stepped in. She covered my bills and took care of me, nursing me back to health. I was on my way to my comeback race when another car slammed into us. My parents died on impact. I was dragged back to the ICU. The day I was discharged, I overheard Chelan’s father laying into her. “If you didn’t want Andrew to race, you could have just told him! Why did you have to kill his parents?” Chelan’s voice, once so beautiful to me, was now laced with venom. “I promised Noah that Andrew would never race again. I don’t break my promises. Besides, his parents ruined Noah’s family. It’s a life for a life.” But that wasn’t true. Noah’s parents had taken their own lives after their business failed. It had nothing to do with my parents. A single, bitter tear slid from the corner of my eye. Chelan could rest easy now. The doctors had told me my tendons were permanently damaged. I would never race again. And as for Chelan… I was done with her, too. … Chelan’s words hit me like a physical blow. The world tilted, and I staggered, grabbing the wall for support. Her cold voice continued from down the hall. “And as for Andrew… he’s the son of murderers. His parents destroyed Noah’s life, so it’s only fair that he pays the price, too.” My heart felt like it was being shredded. I couldn’t breathe. Her father was furious. “How can you be so cruel? Andrew is your husband!” For a fleeting moment, a shadow of pain crossed Chelan’s face, but she quickly masked it. “I know. But I gave Noah my word. I couldn’t let Andrew get back on that track. I’ve been by his side this whole time. That should count for something, right? Atonement?” Atonement? I pulled at the tight, numb corners of my mouth. How could she possibly atone for my parents’ deaths? I had thought the crash was a tragic accident. But it was all a part of a deliberate plan, orchestrated by the woman I shared a bed with. The same woman who had encouraged my return to racing, who had even filled out the registration forms for me. She had used my dream as a weapon to murder my family. And the lie about Noah’s parents… it was all a lie. They couldn’t handle the failure of their business and chose to end their lives. Chelan knew this. She had to. She had killed my parents. And I would make her pay. Overwhelmed with grief, I turned to leave, but her voice stopped me again. “Don’t worry, Dad. Andrew has always wanted a child. And I’m pregnant. Even if he finds out the truth, he’ll forgive me for the baby’s sake.” I froze, a storm of emotions churning inside me. For three years, I had begged her for a baby. She always had an excuse—first, she was too busy taking care of me. Then, as I recovered, she was too focused on her career. And now, she was pregnant. Her father’s face softened with relief. “A baby… that’s good. At least I’ll have something to offer his parents when I see them in the next life.” But as I looked at Chelan, a flicker of something unnatural crossed her face. Was it… guilt? Before I could be sure, her expression was smooth again. Her phone rang, a cheerful, upbeat tune that felt jarring in the sterile hospital hallway. A small, secretive smile touched her lips. “Dad, Andrew’s been gone a while. Can you go check on him?” she urged. He nodded and hurried back toward my room. As soon as he was out of sight, Chelan answered the call. “Noah, why are you calling now? What if Andrew hears?” Her voice was a hushed whisper. “You miss the baby? He’s not even born yet. You can’t let Andrew find out the baby is yours. We’ll both be ruined!” The leg I had been about to move hung suspended in mid-air. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. The baby… it was Noah’s. I looked up, and the blissful, happy smile on Chelan’s face was like a dagger in my heart. She looked like a young girl in the first flush of love, sweet and shy. She had never, not once, smiled at me with such genuine joy. “I know, I know,” she cooed into the phone. “Of course, I’ll protect our baby. You don’t have to worry.” She hung up and started walking in my direction. I ducked back behind the door, my heart pounding, praying she hadn’t seen me. I waited until her footsteps faded down the long corridor before I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. She had been playing me all along. Well, two could play at that game. I spent the rest of the day wandering the city in a daze before finally heading home. I hadn’t even taken off my shoes when she accosted me. “Andrew, what is the meaning of this? Why did you just disappear?” she demanded. “My father is an old man, and he went all the way to the hospital to pick you up, and you just vanish!” I stared at her, my gaze cold and empty. Her tirade slowly petered out as she finally noticed the change in me. “Andrew?” she asked, a note of uncertainty in her voice. “Did you… overhear something at the hospital?” My nails dug into my palms. I was at my breaking point. Her father rushed over, positioning himself between us. “Andrew, let’s all just calm down and talk about this,” he said, his voice placating. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm. I had no proof yet. I couldn’t show my hand. “It’s nothing,” I said, my voice flat. “I finished packing and you weren’t there, so I left on my own.” The tension immediately drained from Chelan’s body. A bright, happy smile replaced her worried frown. “Andrew, I have wonderful news. I’m pregnant. We’re going to have a baby.” Her joyful expression was another twist of the knife. A sarcastic smile curled my lips. “Is that so? Congratulations.” Her father looked at me, confused. “What kind of a response is that, Andrew? Aren’t you happy?” He seemed to come to a conclusion. “If you think this isn’t the right time, I can talk to her. We can… take care of it.” Before I could say a word, Chelan cut in, her voice sharp with panic. “No! We’re not getting rid of it.” Of course not. She wouldn’t get rid of Noah’s child. I couldn’t stand to look at her hypocritical face a second longer. I turned to leave. “Andrew, wait,” she said, grabbing my arm. “I know how much you’ve always wanted to see the OPU International Grand Prix. I got us tickets. I thought we could go together.” The OPU Grand Prix. The race where she had tried to kill me. The source of a pain so deep it still ached after all these years. I frowned, torn. A part of me, the part that still lived and breathed racing, wanted to go. But the rest of me… I pulled my arm away without a word and went to my room. I heard her father’s angry voice behind me. “The man clearly doesn’t appreciate it. Why do you even bother? You’re both as stubborn as mules. I’ll never understand either of you.” The next morning, Chelan burst into my room and tried to pull me out of bed. I instinctively recoiled from her touch. I couldn’t stand the thought of her hands on me. She froze, a bitter, hurt expression on her face. “Fine. If you don’t want to go, we won’t go. I won’t force you.” Her voice was small, defeated. “But we need to choose a burial plot for your parents. The funeral is in a few days. I thought… I thought they would like it if we chose it for them. Together.” My parents. Even in death, they had loved her like a daughter. And she was their murderer. Before I could protest, she was tugging at my sleeve, pulling me out the door. “We have to go now, or we’ll be late.” But she had lied. She drove me straight to the racetrack. “Chelan, are you insane? I told you I didn’t want to come!” Before I could finish, a triumphant voice called out from behind us. “Chelan! You said you’d come cheer me on, and you actually did!” Noah. He was wearing a racing helmet, but I could still see the mocking glint in his eyes. So this was what it was about. She was here to see her lover. “You disgust me,” I muttered, and turned to leave. But as I reached the exit, a group of men blocked my path. Before I could figure out what was happening, Noah was there. “Andrew,” he sneered. “You don’t actually think you’re still a racer, do you?” His voice dripped with contempt. “Oh, that’s right, I forgot. Your tendons are shot. The closest you’ll ever get to a race car again is looking at one.” He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “And if you can’t handle a car… I bet you can’t handle your wife, either. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of her for you. Maybe you can even hand us the condoms when we’re in bed.” My fist clenched, the veins in my arm standing out in sharp relief. He kept talking, but I didn’t hear him. I just kicked him, hard, in the stomach. He staggered back, gasping for air. “You… you hit me? Do you have any idea where you are?” At his signal, the men surrounding me surged forward. They pinned me to the ground, and fists like stones rained down on me. I fought back, but I was outnumbered. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Suddenly, they backed off. I looked up, confused, just in time to see Noah approaching with a large bucket. “You want to act tough, Andrew? Then die!” Before I could react, he dumped the contents of the bucket over my head. The stench of raw sewage filled my nostrils, and the men around me erupted in laughter, pointing and jeering at my humiliation. “What are you doing?” Chelan came running over, pushing her way through the crowd to stand in front of me. She glared at the men, her voice sharp. “If you touch him again, I’m calling the police!” Noah’s aggressive demeanor vanished, replaced by a look of wounded innocence. He took her hand, his voice soft and pleading. “Chelan, he hit me first. Ask them.” The other racers all nodded in agreement. Chelan’s eyes flickered with indecision as she looked down at me, covered in filth. She instinctively covered her nose, a look of disgust on her face. She quickly realized her mistake and dropped Noah’s hand, but the damage was done. “Andrew,” she said, her voice strained. “You were in the wrong here. You should apologize to Noah.” I spat out a mouthful of blood and laughed. “He cuckolded me and poured shit on my head, and you want me to apologize? In your dreams.” The color drained from her face. “You’re mistaken,” she stammered. “It’s not what you think…” I cut her off, struggling to my feet. I walked away, alone, leaving the roar of the engines and the life I had once loved behind me. It was late when Chelan finally came home. Noah was with her. “Andrew, what is wrong with you?” she snapped, not even bothering with a greeting. “I try to do something nice for you, to help you fulfill a dream, and you just abandon me there. It’s a good thing Noah was there to give me a ride home.” They exchanged a look, a silent, intimate communication that made my stomach turn. I wiped the dried blood from the corner of my mouth and gave them a knowing smile. Just an hour ago, the private investigator I’d hired had called. He had everything. After my parents’ funeral, their time was up. At the funeral, a murmur went through the crowd of mourners. “Who is that? Is he trying to cause a scene?” “You don’t wear that to a funeral. It’s so disrespectful.” I looked up. It was Noah, dressed in a bright, flamboyant red suit. I lunged at him, grabbing him by the collar. “What are you doing here? Get out!” Chelan rushed over, pulling me off him. After checking to make sure he was okay, she turned on me. “What is your problem, Andrew? I invited him. Your parents did a terrible thing. They owe him an apology.” Her words were like a punch to the gut. I was speechless. Noah seized the opportunity. “For those of you who don’t know,” he announced to the crowd, “my parents were driven to their deaths by Andrew’s parents. They got what they deserved.” A collective gasp went through the crowd. My parents were kind, gentle people. They would never hurt anyone. I tried to speak, to defend them, but Chelan clamped a hand over my mouth, silencing me. Seeing the disbelief on the faces of the guests, Noah produced a folded piece of paper. “This is the suicide note my mother left. It says right here that Andrew’s parents were responsible for her death.” As the crowd began to murmur, their expressions shifting from shock to suspicion, I lunged for the note. But Chelan grabbed the back of my shirt, and in the struggle, she lost her footing and fell hard. She clutched her stomach, a pained cry escaping her lips. “The baby… my baby…” Blood was spreading across the fabric of her dress. I remembered what I had overheard the night before: “The baby stopped developing. I’ll take the pills tomorrow. At the funeral, I’ll pretend Andrew pushed me. We can blame the miscarriage on him and sue him for everything he has.” I had been so careful all day, trying to avoid this exact scenario. But she had still found a way to frame me. Her father slapped me across the face, his eyes blazing with fury. “You monster! What are you standing there for? Call an ambulance!” But I didn’t move. She had been plotting against me from the beginning. Now, it was my turn. I didn’t visit her in the hospital. She posted daily updates on social media, complaining about my heartlessness and praising Noah for his devoted care. Her friends all urged her to divorce me, but she would always reply with some saccharine comment about how she couldn’t bear to leave me. The day she was discharged, Noah brought her home. “Andrew,” she said, stepping in front of him as if to protect him from me. “You killed our child. Are you going to hurt Noah now, too? You heartless bastard. Why didn’t you die with your parents?” At the mention of my parents, my eyes narrowed. It was fine. She would be joining them soon enough. “If Noah is so wonderful, then you should be with him,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. She fell silent, a look of confusion on her face. Before she could recover, I tossed a folder onto the table in front of her. “Sign it. A divorce is the best thing for both of us.” Noah’s face lit up. “Chelan, once you’re free, we can get married right away!” That was all the convincing she needed. She grabbed a pen and signed the papers without a second thought. Just as they were celebrating their happily ever after, the sound of police sirens filled the air. I smiled. Their reckoning had arrived.

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I was having dinner with my best friend, Alex, who had just gotten back to the country, when I noticed the small hair tie around his wrist. I glanced at the matching one on my own wrist and gave him a knowing nudge. “So when did this happen? Keeping secrets from me now?” Alex just smiled and didn’t say a word, so I dropped it. We were halfway through our meal when Sophia, my childhood sweetheart and soon-to-be fiancée, texted to ask where I was. She was out shopping and hungry. I sent her the address without a second thought. Later, as Sophia leaned over to grab a piece of food, her long hair fell into her plate. I was about to reach over and tie it back for her, but Alex was faster. He deftly gathered her hair and secured it with the tie from his wrist. Noticing my stare, he quickly explained, “Force of habit from having dinner with my girlfriend so much. Don’t mind me.” I said nothing. That night, when we got home, I told Sophia, “Let’s call off the engagement.” She rubbed her temples in irritation. “Just because he tied my hair?” 1. “A man with a hair tie on his wrist is taken,” I said, looking at the pink band on my own arm. The words felt like a bitter joke. I looked up at her. “It’s not because he tied your hair.” “It’s because I suddenly realized that you and I don’t even have that ‘force of habit’.” Sophia stared at me, her brow furrowed. “Tim, stop messing around,” she warned. “This merger was arranged by our grandfathers. You can’t just call it off.” “Alex tying your hair today looked more natural than anything I’ve ever done for you.” Her face darkened. “He’s your best friend. You know what he’s like. He’s a player; he’s smooth with everyone. He’s not like that with me because there’s something between us; he’s like that with all women. Can you please be a little more mature and not blow this out of proportion?” The air in the room grew thick with tension. I loosened my tie. “I know exactly how many girlfriends Alex has had. But I also know he would never cross a line like that with someone else’s partner. Do you think I’m blind?” Sophia’s face flushed a deep red, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. “That’s not fair, Tim! He just saw my hair was in my face and helped out. Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Only someone with a dirty mind would see it that way.” The accusation stunned me. After a moment, I gave a humorless laugh. “Is that really how you see me?” She looked away, a flicker of guilt in her eyes, and quickly changed the subject. “We’re supposed to be talking about the merger. Our families arranged this for the good of the companies. Don’t be so emotional.” “In our world, plenty of couples have their own lives after getting married. It’s a business alliance. Feelings don’t have to be part of the deal.” Her magnanimity made me feel small and petty, like I was the one making unreasonable demands. Suddenly, the whole conversation felt pointless. I had been in love with Sophia for over a decade. This marriage may have been arranged, but it couldn’t have happened without our consent. I thought her agreeing meant she had some feelings for me, too. Now I saw I had just been fooling myself. Sophia rubbed her forehead. “My birthday is the day after tomorrow. Both our families are getting together for dinner. If you’re in a bad mood, you don’t have to come into the office for the next couple of days. Just rest at home.” I didn’t answer. The next morning, I was woken by my phone ringing. I stared at her name on the screen for a long moment before finally answering. “Tim, where are you?” Her voice was its usual sweet, playful tone, as if our fight had never happened. “I left an urgent file in the study at home. I need it for a client meeting soon. Can you bring it to me?” My fingers tightened around the phone. I didn’t speak. She sighed softly, her voice softening. “I can’t get away from the office, and my driver called in sick. You’re the only person I can ask.” The silence stretched between us until I heard the faint rustle of papers on her end. Finally, I heard my own dry voice say, “Address.” Half an hour later, I arrived at her office. The door was slightly ajar. I was about to knock when I heard Alex’s voice from inside. 2. “Your hair’s a mess again,” he said, his tone light and teasing, far more intimate than it had been at dinner. “I thought you said it was easier to work with it tied up.” “You’re the one who messed it up when you snatched that file from me,” Sophia retorted playfully. I froze, my hand hovering in the air. Through the crack in the door, I could see Sophia sitting at her desk and Alex standing behind her. He reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the gesture impossibly intimate and natural. Then, as if he’d just noticed me, his voice rose in perfectly feigned surprise. “Tim? What are you doing here?” He pulled the door open, a look of pure innocence on his face. Sophia looked up, saw the file in my hand, and immediately stood. “You brought it? Quick, give it to me.” I didn’t move. My eyes were fixed on the stray hairs behind her ear. They were held in place by a small, silver clip. It wasn’t her style. “I was just helping Sophia organize some documents. Her hair kept getting in the way,” Alex explained, his tone casual, but his eyes held a glint of challenge. Sophia took the file from my hand. “Good thing you got here when you did. This would have been a disaster.” I looked at her, my voice devoid of emotion. “Well, I hope…” I paused, my gaze sweeping over her disheveled blouse, “…that your appearance won’t be a disaster for your next meeting.” Sophia noticed my stare and nervously smoothed her clothes. “I’ve just been so swamped with work.” It was a clumsy, obvious lie. Alex leaned against the desk, his arms crossed. “Don’t worry, Tim. Sophia is a professional. She never lets personal matters get in the way of business.” His words were a clear, smug insinuation. “The file’s here. I’m leaving,” I said flatly. As I turned, I heard Sophia say something under her breath, probably asking me to wait, but I didn’t look back. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from Alex. Tim, don’t take it the wrong way. There’s nothing going on between me and Sophia. After I left her office, my phone didn’t stop buzzing. The messages from Sophia started as angry demands, then shifted to soft, probing questions. I ignored them all. Around eleven that night, my phone began to vibrate violently. Sophia’s name flashed on the screen, the shrill ringtone cutting through the silence of my apartment. I stared at it until the last possible second before swiping to answer. “Tim…” Her voice was thick and slurred with alcohol. “Why didn’t you come find me…?” The background was loud—clinking glasses, muffled music, and laughter. “Where are you?” I asked, my brow furrowed. “At… at a bar… you have to come… they’re all picking on me…” Her words were jumbled, laced with the same coy flirtatiousness she’d used on the phone that morning. It was a world away from the cool, powerful woman in the office. I pinched the bridge of my nose, but I grabbed my car keys anyway. I spotted her the moment I walked in, slumped in a corner booth. Empty glasses littered the table in front of her. She was leaning over, mumbling something to the person next to her. And the person next to her was Alex. I stopped in my tracks. Whatever small, pathetic flicker of concern I’d felt when she called died instantly. I was about to turn and leave when her voice rose above the din, carrying clearly to where I stood. “…you guys have no idea how boring Tim is…” Her drunken complaint was like a physical blow. “Being with him is a total drag. All he ever talks about is work, family, responsibility… there’s no romance, no fun…” Someone at the table laughed. “What about Alex? He just got back. I bet he’s more romantic than Tim.” 3. At the mention of Alex, a giddy, lovesick quality entered her voice. “Oh, definitely! Alex is different…” “He knows what kind of flowers I like, he knows which restaurants have the best desserts, he even knows whether I’m tired or just annoyed by the way I frown…” She paused, took another drink, and her words became even more slurred, and even more honest. “Honestly, if it weren’t for our grandfathers insisting on this merger, if it weren’t for the business… I would have told him the truth a long time ago…” The table erupted in teasing. “Oh? Told him what? That you’re ready to make it official with Alex?” “Shhh…” Sophia slurred, holding a finger to her lips. “Be quiet… don’t talk nonsense…” “Even if I… make it official… we have to get married first…” “Besides, Tim… he doesn’t know anything. He trusts us so much…” Alex’s lazy, indulgent laugh cut in. “Alright, you’re drunk. Stop talking nonsense.” He was technically telling her to stop, but there was no real force behind it. He was enjoying it, basking in their secret flirtation. I stood there, feeling the blood turn to ice in my veins. The hair tie. Sophia had once told me it was a way of “staking a claim,” of telling the world, “This man is taken.” But she had never been staking a claim on me. She had been using that cheap symbol to trap me, the trusting fool who “didn’t know anything,” so she could carry on her affair and laugh behind my back about how boring and predictable I was. I finally understood why we had no “force of habit.” It wasn’t a lack of familiarity. It was a lack of heart. Her heart had never been with me. The merger, the family responsibilities—they were all just excuses. A smokescreen to hide the fact that she was happy to accept my love but unwilling to offer any of her own in return. I turned to leave, and crashed right into a server. The tray went flying, and a sticky concoction of cocktails drenched my shirt. “Sir! Are you okay? I am so sorry, I’ll get that cleaned up for you right away!” I was about to wave him off when I heard Sophia’s voice. “Tim…? What are you doing here?” For a second, I thought she must be hallucinating from the alcohol. “Weren’t you the one who invited me here to watch this little show?” The booze hadn’t worn off. Her face was flushed as she mumbled, “I… I invited you? Did I… I…” Before she could finish, she retched, vomiting all over the table. Alex jumped back, a look of pure disgust on his face. She reached for him, trying to steady herself, but he deftly sidestepped her. “Sophia, I’m… I’m gonna go get cleaned up. I’ll be right back to take care of you.” He practically ran from the booth, his hand over his nose. With nothing to hold onto, Sophia began to crumple to the floor. On pure instinct, I lunged forward and caught her. “Careful!” She sagged against me, still heaving, the acrid smell of alcohol and bile washing over me. I grimaced but held her steady, one hand on her back, patting it gently. I’ve always hated the smell of vomit, but Sophia loved to drink. Over the years, I had gotten used to it. The rest of the table had fallen silent, staring at us. The same friends who had been teasing her moments before now looked away, embarrassed. I ignored them and half-carried her out of the bar. 4. The cool night air seemed to sober her up a little. She leaned against my shoulder, whimpering, “Tim… I feel sick…” That small, dependent sound would have melted my heart before. Now, it just left me cold. I put her in the passenger seat, buckled her in, and drove to her apartment. Getting her inside was a struggle. She was a dead weight, her clothes were a mess, and her hair was matted to her face. I found a wet towel and awkwardly began to clean her up. Her eyes fluttered open, and she watched me for a moment before her hand shot out and grabbed my wrist. “Tim… don’t be mad at me…” I froze, her words from the bar echoing in my head. Boring. No fun. If it weren’t for the merger… My chest tightened, a dull ache spreading through it. It was the middle of the night by the time I finally got her settled. The apartment reeked of alcohol. I opened a window and sat in the dark, unable to sleep. The next day was Sophia’s birthday party, held at my family’s estate. By the time I arrived, both our families were already there, chatting amiably in the living room. Sophia looked radiant, with no trace of the previous night’s drunken mess. She was laughing with her mother, but her eyes flickered toward me when I walked in. She didn’t greet me. I had just sat down when the doorbell rang. The butler opened it to reveal Alex, holding a beautifully wrapped gift. “Sophia, happy birthday,” he said with a charming smile. Sophia’s parents’ expressions stiffened. My own grandfather frowned. Alex was an outsider. His presence at an intimate family gathering was a major breach of etiquette. But before anyone could say anything, Sophia had already taken the gift. “Thank you, Alex! I’m so glad you could make it.” Her tone was warm and familiar, completely ignoring the tense atmosphere in the room.

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My sister and I were fated to marry twin wolves. My sister, Isolde, married Kael, the black wolf. He was the pack’s heir—powerful, sculpted from raw strength, but born without a shred of empathy. His temper was a storm, and after their wedding, he unleashed it on her. I was given to Rhys, the white wolf. He was frail, gentle, and kind, and with a brilliant mind, he eventually clawed his way to the position of pack leader. Isolde, consumed by jealousy, poisoned me. Then I opened my eyes. We were back, standing on the precipice of our past, on the very day we were to choose our husbands. This time, Isolde’s hand shot out, desperately grabbing Rhys. I smiled. Did she truly believe the white wolf was the better man? 1 The Hale Matriarch led Kael and Rhys, the twin wolves, before my sister and me. “These are my sons,” she announced, her voice as unyielding as ancient stone. “Each of you will choose one.” My head snapped up, my heart hammering against my ribs. Kael. The firstborn, the future Alpha, his body a monument to power. Rhys. His younger brother, his heart a fragile thing since birth, kept alive by a cocktail of pills. I blinked, again and again, confirming the impossible. They were real, standing before me. This wasn’t a dream. I was reborn. Thrown back to the day Isolde and I chose our mates. Without a moment’s hesitation, Isolde rushed forward and took Rhys’s hand, her eyes swimming with a tenderness that was utterly fake. “Rhys, my love,” she breathed. “From this day on, I am your wife.” As she spoke, she shot a triumphant glare in my direction. And in that single, venomous look, I knew. She was reborn, too. Why else would she choose Rhys? Our families, the Vaughn and Hale corporations, had been allies for generations. This union was meant to seal that bond. In our first life, Isolde had heard Kael was the heir, strong and virile. She craved the power of being the Luna, the Alpha’s mate, and chose him without a second thought. What she didn’t know was that Kael was a creature of pure instinct, incapable of love, ruled only by a vicious, unpredictable rage. Her every attempt to please him had been met with brutal beatings. Meanwhile, Rhys, the husband I had been left with, was the epitome of kindness. He made me the center of his universe, showing me off at every important event, treating me like a treasure. Then, with his sharp intellect, he orchestrated Kael’s downfall and seized the title of Alpha for himself. Suddenly, I was the Luna, wielding influence over the entire pack. Isolde’s jealousy became a poison, and not just metaphorically. She seeped a colorless, odorless gas into my room as I slept. I will never forget the look in her eyes as my life faded. Cold. Vicious. “Did you really think being the Luna made you untouchable, Elara?” she’d hissed. “I’m going to enjoy watching you die.” With my last ounce of strength, I’d plunged the dagger I always carried into her heart, taking her down with me. I never imagined fate would be cruel enough to send us back together. But as I watched her cling to Rhys, a slow, genuine smile spread across my face. My new life was about to begin. A life free from the chains of the past. 2 Our weddings were a joint affair. Throughout the ceremony, Rhys doted on Isolde, adjusting the train of her gown, smoothing a stray lock of her hair. Kael, on the other hand, stood beside me like a storm cloud carved from granite, his expression dark, his eyes fixed on some distant point, clearly wishing the whole ordeal was over. Seeing me so obviously ignored, Isolde’s smirk widened. She pulled Rhys over, their linked hands a deliberate spectacle. “Little sister,” she purred, her voice dripping with false sympathy. “Life in the Hale pack can be… difficult, if you can’t even keep your own husband on a leash.” I glanced at Rhys. He gazed at Isolde with a look of profound devotion. My eyes, however, were drawn to his thumb, to the silver signet ring he wore. A jolt of pure terror shot through me. I stumbled back a step, my breath catching in my throat. Forcing the tremor from my hands, I managed a tight smile. “You don’t need to worry about me, sister. I can handle myself.” I turned and walked away, my body still shaking with the memory of a pain that felt all too real. Isolde thought she’d won the grand prize. She had no idea. Compared to the smiling viper she now clung to, I would choose Kael’s cold fury a thousand times over. And this time, she had granted my wish. That night, I slipped into a silken red robe and found Kael on the bed, his eyes closed in meditation. A powerful black tail twitched restlessly beside him. A wolf’s tail is their most vulnerable point. They only allow those they trust implicitly to touch it. I decided to take a chance. I reached out, my fingers barely grazing the coarse fur before he moved like lightning, shoving me so hard I sprawled onto the floor. “What do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, his voice a low growl, his brows furrowed in rage. “Kael,” I whispered, feigning a shy bride’s demeanor. “It’s our wedding night.” Inside, I was cursing him. I’m practically throwing myself at you, and you’re still giving me the cold shoulder? Unbelievable. “So what?” His large hand clamped around my throat, lifting me slightly. His amber eyes burned into mine. “Let me make one thing clear. I have zero interest in… that. If you want to stay alive in this house, you’ll learn to stay out of my way.” The pressure on my windpipe was immense, my vision starting to swim in black spots. I’d heard the stories. Even the dogs at the gate knew their master had a notoriously short fuse and a penchant for violence. In our last life, the only thing that had saved Isolde from being torn to shreds was the fact that she was, in name, his wife. I swallowed hard, fear coiling in my gut. I couldn’t give up. Not now. I’d suffered enough for one lifetime. “Okay… okay,” I gasped. “I won’t… I won’t bother you.” He released me, dropping me unceremoniously to the floor. I coughed, desperately dragging air into my lungs. Seeing the irritation flash in his eyes, I scrambled into the bathroom to finish my coughing fit in private. 3 It didn’t take long to confirm my suspicions: Kael was a classic alpha male with a heavy dose of misogyny. In his world, women were little more than burdens. As his new, unwelcome wife, my only strategy was to not provoke the beast. In the last life, Isolde’s desperate attempts to seduce him had earned her nothing but broken bones and black eyes. She’d been thrown out of their room on their wedding night, a humiliation witnessed by the entire pack. Determined to avoid her fate, I spent the night curled up on the cold bathroom tiles. I was jolted awake by a cascade of icy water. Kael stood in the doorway, looming over me like a titan. “I need to use the bathroom.” “Right, sorry, I’ll get out of your way,” I stammered, scrambling to my feet without even wiping the water from my face. He brushed past me without a second glance. When he emerged, groomed and dressed, he headed straight for the door. I darted forward, my hand closing around his wrist. “Kael, my mother invited us for dinner tonight. She expects you to come with me.” His brow instantly creased into a deep scowl. “I’m buried in work. Can’t you go alone?” Acting on instinct, I reached up and gently smoothed the lines between his eyebrows with my thumb. “Don’t frown. It ruins your handsome face.” It was a habit I’d developed with Rhys in our past life. I’d always told him that worrying brought bad luck. “It’s fine if I go alone, really,” I said, dropping my hand. “But, you know, where I’m from, if a new husband doesn’t accompany his wife to her family home the day after the wedding… people start whispering. They call her a widow before she’s even truly a wife.” “What century is this? Who still believes in that nonsense?” He pushed my hand away, but I noticed he didn’t frown again. “I know, it’s silly,” I said with a sigh, turning as if to leave. “But it’s just how things are. Don’t worry about it. I can handle a few whispers.” I started walking toward the door, counting down in my head. Three… two… “Wait.” I stopped, a secret smile playing on my lips. “I’ll go with you tonight,” he grumbled, grabbing his jacket and storming out. The moment the door clicked shut, my smile broke free. My gamble had paid off. My past life wasn’t a total waste. I’d devoured psychology books, trying to understand Rhys’s madness. I learned that with men like Kael—volatile and proud—you couldn’t fight them head-on. You had to flow with their current, subtly guiding them with a touch of moral pressure. A little light emotional blackmail. Isolde had thought the path to his heart was through his bed. She couldn’t have been more wrong. Her advances only fueled his disgust. Patience is a virtue. This time, I was determined to rewrite my destiny. I would not end up a tragedy. 4 That evening, after carefully applying my makeup, I went to Kael’s office to meet him. As I crossed the garden, I ran into Isolde and Rhys. They were a picture of marital bliss, fingers intertwined, leaning into each other as if they were the only two people in the world. “Sister,” Isolde called out, her eyes gleaming with malicious glee. “Going to visit mother? Didn’t Kael come with you?” “He’s waiting for me at the office,” I replied smoothly. At my words, a flicker of raw hatred crossed Rhys’s face. He had always been consumed by jealousy over Kael’s strength and status, a stark contrast to his own physical frailty that kept him confined to the estate. Jealousy makes monsters of men. It was jealousy that drove Isolde to murder me. It was jealousy that drove Rhys to murder his own brother. I offered them a polite nod and continued on my way. As I walked, a strange premonition made me glance back. Rhys was watching me. His eyes, sharp and possessive, locked onto mine. A shiver of dread traced its way down my spine. I quickly turned away, the ghosts of the past life chilling me to the bone. 5 The family dinner was a grand affair, teeming with relatives. When Kael and I arrived last, a wave of stunned silence rippled through the room. No one had expected me to successfully wrangle the infamous Kael Hale. I stayed close behind him, a silent, demure wife, terrified that one wrong word would send him storming out and ruin everything. Perhaps my quietness pleased him, because he remained surprisingly civil. In the eyes of the world, we were a power couple. Isolde and Rhys were holding court on the sofa. Just as I looked over, they engaged in a sickeningly sweet display, feeding each other pieces of fruit, mouth to mouth. I pretended not to see. Let her play the part of the doting wife. She was a clown in a tragedy of her own making, and she didn’t even know it. As long as I kept Kael by my side, my life would eclipse hers in every way. As the pack’s heir, Kael was the center of attention. One by one, our relatives came to toast him. Though his temper was legendary, he navigated the social niceties with a practiced, if strained, politeness. I saw the envy burning in Isolde’s eyes. Desperate to steal the spotlight, she began to sing Rhys’s praises. “Rhys is just so wonderful to me,” she gushed to the table. “He’s so attentive. He cooks for me every day, and on our very first night, he told me he wants me to bear him a litter of strong wolf pups.” Her eyes then found mine across the table. “I wonder, little sister, did you and Kael even consummate your marriage?” The brazenness of her question, in front of our entire family, left me speechless. I felt my hand clench in my lap. Just as I was about to respond, Kael’s voice cut through the air like a whip. “As the Luna of the second-in-command, have you no shame, saying such things in public?” he snarled, his gaze locking onto Rhys. “Control your wife!” 6 Rhys’s eyes flashed with defiance, but he bowed his head to his older brother’s authority. “I understand, brother,” he muttered, before grabbing Isolde’s arm and pulling her away from the table. The festive dinner had soured completely. Kael rose and left without another word. I scrambled to follow, a triumphant little smile playing on my lips. As I left, I overheard the whispers—how protective Kael was, how much he must care for me to defend my honor like that. They were wrong, of course. Kael didn’t care about me. He cared about the Hale family’s reputation. As the heir, his brother’s wife spewing such vulgarities was an embarrassment he had to squash. Naturally, Kael didn’t offer me a ride home. To him, I was an obligation, not a partner. I took a cab. When I arrived, I found Isolde in the living room, dabbing ointment onto her arm. It was covered in tiny, cruel-looking puncture wounds. In my last life, my entire body had been a canvas of those same marks. She saw me and quickly pulled down her sleeve. Even though her face was pale with pain, she lifted her chin in that familiar, arrogant way. “Rhys just made passionate love to me,” she declared, her voice brittle. “He said he would love me forever.” She was so utterly, pathetically foolish. Still trying to satisfy her pathetic need to win, even when she was bleeding. No one knew Rhys better than I did. In the beginning of our past life together, he had been kind. But it didn’t last. He became a demon in the night, his kindness a mask for his cruelty. Tonight, Isolde’s loose tongue had earned him a public scolding from Kael. His pride would be stinging. And he would make her pay for it. 7 Kael didn’t return until the early hours of the morning. I had tactfully made my bed on the small sofa in the corner of the room. He walked past without a glance, showered, and went straight to bed. Men like Kael aren’t heartless. The psychology books I’d read described his condition perfectly. He had likely suffered a severe trauma that fractured his ability to trust, forcing him to build a fortress of rage around a deeply vulnerable core. In my last life, I’d started reading those books to understand how to survive Rhys’s madness. I was killed before I could finish, but fortunately, the sections I remembered best were all about personalities like Kael’s. I tiptoed to the kitchen and prepared a warm, fragrant broth. I carried it back to the room and offered it to him. “Kael,” I said softly. “You must be exhausted. Drink this. It will help you recover.” It wasn’t just broth. It was laced with calming herbs—and something more. A subtle concoction I’d learned about from the old medical texts, designed to soothe his frayed nerves and, perhaps, open his heart to me. These were remedies I’d discovered in my past life while trying to heal the constant wounds on my own body. He didn’t acknowledge my offering. Instead, his form shifted and shimmered, and a great black wolf lay on the bed, eyes closed, deep in some lupine meditation. Fine. Time for more emotional manipulation. “I simmered this broth for hours,” I said with a theatrical sigh. “A few of the servants asked for some, but I saved it all for you. Oh well. If you don’t want it, I guess I’ll just have to give it to someone else.” No reaction. I gritted my teeth. “It’s fine, Kael. I don’t mind. It’s just a little gossip about the pack’s new Luna being ignored by her husband. I suppose I can handle it.” I deliberately stressed the words “new Luna.” It worked. His eyes snapped open. His form solidified back into that of a man. He snatched the bowl from my hands and downed the contents in one go. I beamed, feeling bold enough to reach out and stroke his tail. “Kael… could I… could I sleep with you tonight? Just to hold you?” “No,” he snapped, his tail lashing out and swatting my hand away. I didn’t push it. I scurried back to my sofa, content with my small victory. The next morning, I had another bowl of broth waiting for him. Perhaps wanting to avoid another one of my speeches, he drank it without complaint. A few more days of this medicated brew, and his violent temper should begin to soften. Thinking of the man he was in the last life—a slave to his own uncontrollable rage—I felt a pang of pity. He was a prisoner in his own mind. Now that I was his wife, I would do whatever it took to heal him. Of course, it was for my own selfish reasons, too. I just wanted a peaceful life, and he was my shield. But the broth was just the first step. It was time to initiate phase two. 8 After seeing Kael off to work, I turned and saw Rhys lurking in the shadows of the garden, his eyes burning with resentment as he watched Kael’s car disappear. He and Isolde were two of a kind, consumed by an envy that twisted them into monsters. He was just better at hiding it. I raised my voice, calling to a nearby servant. “I’m heading to the back hills to gather some herbs for the Alpha’s restorative broth! I’ll go on ahead; bring the gathering tools and meet me there in a little while.” I made sure my voice was loud enough for Rhys to overhear. Then, I set off. I was digging up roots—calming, nourishing herbs—when I heard the snap of a twig behind me. I looked up to see Rhys advancing on me, a leather whip coiled in his hand. An involuntary tremor ran through me, but I forced myself to stand my ground. “Rhys. What are you doing here?” He let out a low, chilling chuckle. “What do you think I’m doing… sister-in-law?” His predatory smile mirrored the one he wore in my nightmares, a perfect overlap with the monster from my past life. A cold sweat broke out on my skin, but I held his gaze. “I am your brother’s wife. Don’t you dare.” “I hear Kael has become quite protective of you,” he sneered, closing the distance between us. “So, I think I’ll just have to ruin you for him.” He moved with a speed that belied his frail appearance, pinning my arms and forcing me to the ground. Tears of terror and rage streamed from my eyes. “Get off me! If Kael finds out about this, he’ll kill you!” The whip cracked, and a searing line of fire exploded across my back. “Bitch,” he hissed. “I am the Alpha’s brother. Everyone will believe you seduced me!” Pain made me reckless. I spat at him, my voice shaking but laced with venom. “You’re nothing but a pathetic invalid, Rhys! You’ll never be the man Kael is. I would never want you!” His face contorted with fury, his eyes turning blood-red. The whip fell again, and again. “Don’t you ever say that! I’ll beat you to death!” I screamed, my cries swallowed by the dense woods. Just as his hands reached for the collar of my dress, he was sent flying by a brutal, silent force. I scrambled back, clutching my torn clothes, and looked up into the furious, burning eyes of Kael. I allowed myself a small, hidden smile. Phase two was complete.

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On our wedding day, en route to the hotel, my fiancé Bryan Croft, a crisis negotiator, slammed the limo’s brakes for a woman about to jump off a bridge. I grabbed his arm. “It’s our wedding day. You are not going.” He gave me a placating smile. “A life is on the line. I can’t just stand by.” He was out of the car before finishing. My face turned to ice. “If you save her, we are canceling the wedding.” He stared in disbelief. “Elara, you’re the kindest person I know. How can you say something so cruel?” My gaze drifted to the woman’s slightly swollen belly. My voice was unwavering. “Save her, or marry me. You can’t have both.” 1 The sudden stop of the lead limo caused a chain reaction, and the entire wedding procession ground to a halt behind us. Family and friends began to spill out of the cars, confused. “What’s going on? Why have we stopped?” Bryan’s expression darkened. “That woman on the railing… I think she’s going to jump.” He gestured vaguely toward the bridge. “I want to help, but Elara won’t let me. She’s threatening to call off the wedding.” A collective gasp went through the small crowd. All eyes followed his gesture. The woman on the railing had noticed the commotion. She turned, her eyes red-rimmed with tears, and her hand instinctively went to her stomach. My maid of honor, Krista, tried to smooth things over. “Bryan, maybe you should just get back in the car with Elara. Someone else can help her.” My best friend since childhood pulled out her phone, scowling. “Seriously, this isn’t that complicated. You see something like this, you call 911.” She started dialing as she walked toward the bridge. She’d only taken two steps when the woman in white scrambled to her feet, her voice a panicked shriek. “Don’t call the police! And don’t come any closer! One more step and I’ll jump!” The wind coming off the river was strong, whipping her dress around her legs. Standing, she looked fragile, her whole body trembling against the force of the gusts. The sight seemed to flip a switch in Bryan. He shot me a look of pure exasperation and strode forward, grabbing Krista’s arm. His voice was sharp, professional. “Don’t go any further. You’ll agitate her.” I lifted the heavy skirt of my wedding gown and stepped out of the limo, walking deliberately until I stood directly in his path. “So you’ve made your choice, then? You’re going to save her.” Bryan looked down at me, his patience clearly wearing thin. Still, he took my hand, his voice a low plea. “Elara, please, just try to understand. This is what I do. I’m a negotiator. How can I see this and just walk away? Is our wedding really more important than a human life?” He glanced back at the woman on the railing as he said it. His words seemed to sway our guests. “Elara, honey, he has a point. It won’t take long.” “That’s right, dear. To save a life is a great blessing.” “Just let him talk to the poor girl. Look, I think she’s pregnant. She must be in a terrible state.” As they all murmured their support for him, my eyes never left his. When they fell silent, I spoke, my voice dangerously quiet. “Bryan. Answer my question.” His jaw tightened. For a moment, he seemed to be wrestling with himself. Then, he let go of my hand and stepped past me. He stopped a few feet away, his expression softening as he turned his focus entirely to the woman on the bridge. “We won’t come any closer,” he said, his voice calm and soothing. “Just take a breath. Don’t panic.” The woman stared at him, her eyes wide. As his words washed over her, a fresh wave of tears broke free and streamed down her cheeks. “Stay away from me! All of you…” It was the same demand, but her voice had lost its edge, cracking with a sorrow that sounded almost like a plea. Bryan’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. He took a small, careful step forward. “Okay, we’ll stay back,” he cooed. “Just calm down… calm down…” The woman’s frantic energy did seem to recede, but her tears fell faster. Seeing this, I reached into my clutch and pulled out my phone. “Hi, Mom. Are you at the hotel yet? Good. I need you to tell the guests the wedding is off.” 2 A collective gasp rippled through the onlookers. Until that moment, they had probably all thought my threat was just an empty, emotional outburst from a stressed-out bride. My actually making the call proved them wrong. Bryan, who had been laser-focused on the woman, froze. He whipped his head around to look at me. “Elara?” I held the phone in one hand and the hem of my dress in the other, my face an unreadable mask. “What is it?” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do you have to be so unreasonable?” I took a step back. “If this is unreasonable to you, then so be it. But it’s done. I’ve already told my parents to cancel.” I offered him a thin, humorless smile. “You’re free now, Bryan. You can go be the hero.” Just then, the woman on the railing wiped her eyes. Her face was ashen, her voice a raw, broken whisper. “I’m sorry… It’s all my fault that you’re fighting.” She looked at me, her eyes begging. “Please, miss, don’t fight with your husband. You should go. Go get married. They say you should never come between a man and his wife… If I ruined your wedding, I… I couldn’t live with myself…” Her voice broke, and the tears started anew, like pearls spilling from a broken string. She looked down, gently stroking her swollen belly. “My life is worthless anyway. No one’s ever cared about me.” At that, Bryan’s brow furrowed in concern. He edged another cautious step closer. “Don’t say that,” he said, his voice softening into the gentle, persuasive tone of his profession. “Someone in this world loves you. You can’t give up on yourself.” His voice grew even more tender. “You can’t be this pessimistic. You can’t just throw your life away.” Bystanders who had gathered began to chime in. “Yeah, kid, you’re too young for this. Don’t do anything you’ll regret.” Meanwhile, our family and friends were whispering amongst themselves. “I don’t know who’s right or wrong here.” “A wedding is once in a lifetime, but I think Bryan’s doing the right thing.” “I agree. Elara is being a little too selfish right now.” Bryan let out a heavy sigh. “Everyone, please, just be quiet for a minute.” He looked at me again. “Elara, this isn’t you. What is going on today? This woman is clearly at the end of her rope. Are we really just going to watch her jump?” I stared back at him, my gaze unwavering. “Bryan, don’t you know exactly why I’m acting this way?” Before he could answer, his best man, Leo, stepped forward. “Elara, maybe the rest of us don’t know what’s going on, but I was in the front seat. I saw the whole thing. You’ve been making a scene from the very beginning. All Bryan wants to do is help someone. What’s so wrong with that?” I glanced at the now-silent Bryan and let out a cold laugh. “You’re right. He’s a saint. A good Samaritan. And I’m a petty, vicious shrew. We’re clearly not meant to be.” “So I’m calling it off. Now he can go be the hero without any distractions. What’s the problem?” I shifted my gaze to the crying woman on the railing. “Besides, if she really wanted to die, she wouldn’t have been sitting there for so long. Don’t you think she’s being a little dramatic?” My words hit her like a physical blow. The last bit of color drained from her face. She bit her lip, her sobs turning into ragged gasps. “Fine! Fine… I’ll die. I’ll just die…” She gave Bryan one last, long, meaningful look, then turned without another moment’s hesitation. She clenched her fists and prepared to leap into the churning water below. “Don’t!” 3 The word was torn from Bryan’s throat, a raw, desperate shout. He lunged toward the railing, his hand outstretched, but he was too late. The woman’s body plummeted into the river, where she began to thrash in the cold, dark water. Without a second thought, Bryan shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and dove in after her. I remained on the bridge, watching the scene unfold with an unnerving calm, as if the man who had just risked his life wasn’t the man I was supposed to marry. If anyone had been on my side before, my last comment had obliterated that support. I was now the villain of the story. The crowd of onlookers turned on me, their whispers turning into outright accusations. Someone shoved a phone in my face, the camera recording. Another person had started a live stream. “You won’t believe the ice queen I’m seeing right now!” the streamer narrated excitedly. “This woman is beautiful, but she’s pure evil. Her husband wanted to save a suicidal woman, and she forbid him! Then she taunted the poor girl until she jumped! She’s basically a murderer!” A chorus of agreement rose from the crowd. “That’s right! She’s a killer!” “Threatening to cancel the wedding… a good man like that doesn’t deserve a monster like her!” “He’d be miserable if he married that witch!” I ignored them all. The river was frigid, but Bryan was a strong swimmer. He reached the woman quickly and pulled her back to the bank. They were both soaked and shivering, a pathetic sight. Her white dress was now transparent, and Bryan, ever the gentleman, immediately draped his jacket over her shoulders. “Here, I’ll take you to the hospital.” He didn’t even look at me. He put his arm around the woman and started to lead her toward the wedding limo. It was only then that I moved, stepping in front of them. “Wait.” Bryan, who had been struggling to control his temper, finally snapped. His face was dark with rage. “Elara, you already pushed her to this. What more do you want?” The last few words were practically a roar. In the year and a half we’d been together, I had never seen him lose control like this. I glanced at the woman huddled under his arm. “Relax. I’m not here to stop your heroic rescue. You can take her to the hospital. But first, you’re coming to the hotel with me.” Bryan’s jaw was a hard line. “Elara, you’ve gone too far.” The crowd’s jeers grew louder. “I’ve never seen anything like it. Was she raised by wolves?” I turned to the most vocal of the hecklers and pointed to the wedding videographer standing behind me. “Just so you know, my camera crew is recording every word you say. If you want to get sued for slander, please, keep talking.” That shut them up. I turned back to Bryan. “The wedding is off. You will come with me to the hotel and we will finalize the dissolution of this arrangement, right now.” This time, even my best friend looked at me with confusion. “Elara, are you sure…?” “Don’t try to talk me out of it. This is not up for discussion.” In the end, he came with me. When we arrived at the hotel, it was clear my parents hadn’t had a chance to make the announcement. The grand ballroom was still filled with hundreds of guests. I walked straight to the stage, my dress trailing behind me, and took the microphone. “Since everyone is here,” I announced, my voice ringing through the silent room, “I won’t waste any time. The wedding between Bryan Croft and myself is officially canceled.” “And since you are all here as our witnesses, we will handle the logistics of our separation right now. We will be returning all gifts, dowries, and family offerings on the spot.” A stunned silence fell over the massive room. Our parents rushed toward the stage. “Elara, what on earth is going on?” A few relatives who had been at the bridge began to whisper a heavily embellished version of the story, and a new wave of condemnation washed over me. I even noticed the live-streamers from the bridge had followed us, their phones still held high. “She threatened me,” one of them said smugly to her phone’s camera. “But I’m not scared. I’m going to make sure this woman is the most hated person in the country by tonight.” I ignored her and pulled out a pen and paper from my clutch, beginning to list all the financial and material items exchanged between our families. “Bryan, come and look at this. If there are no objections, sign it, and we can start the exchange.” The woman in white was still clinging to Bryan’s arm, her sobs a constant, pitiful backdrop. “I’m sorry… It’s all my fault…” Bryan’s mother, who had been pleading with me to calm down, heard the woman’s voice and her head snapped around. The moment she saw her, Mrs. Croft’s breath hitched. She stormed over to Bryan and slapped him, hard, across the face. “You… you ungrateful son! What is this madness on your wedding day?” She then turned back to me, her hands outstretched. “Elara, please…” I silently held out the list to Bryan. “Hurry up.” It was only then that he seemed to realize I was completely serious. This was not a negotiation. He looked up at me. “Elara…” Seeing him hesitate, I unlocked my phone, opened a popular social media app, and held a particular post up for him to see. “My patience is wearing thin, Bryan. And I am not a fool. Either you explain everything to our families, or I will.” His face went white as he read the screen, his lips beginning to tremble. 4 A few of the closer relatives with sharp eyes saw the screen and their expressions shifted instantly. Bryan looked like he couldn’t breathe. He finally met my gaze. “Elara, do you have to do this? We’ve been good together, haven’t we?” I clutched my phone, my heart a frozen lump in my chest. “Yes. I have to do this. After what happened today, you can’t possibly think there’s any coming back from this, can you?” He looked away, his hand slowly reaching out to take the list from me. He stared down at it, but he didn’t speak. Meanwhile, the live-streamers were still providing their running commentary. “Look at her! The evil bride is forcing the groom to annul the marriage right here, right now!” “I’m telling you, after today, no one will ever marry this woman!” “I agree! The whole country will know what a monster she is. Who would want her?” My mother stood behind me, tugging at my sleeve. “Sweetheart, you haven’t told me why you’re doing this. You know your father and I will support any decision you make, but you have to give us a reason.” I patted her hand. “Don’t worry, Mom. Just wait. You’ll understand in a minute.” As I was speaking to my mother, Mrs. Croft had finally lost her composure. She marched forward, yanked the woman in white away from her son, and began slapping her, again and again, before starting to kick and shove her. “Stella Reed, you little viper! Why can’t you just leave us alone? Is our family indebted to you and your mother from a past life? Are you two determined to haunt us until we’re all miserable?!” The woman, Stella, staggered under the blows, but she didn’t say a word, only covering her face and crying softly. At this point, even the slowest person in the room knew something was deeply wrong. The judgmental whispers died down. Even the live-streamers paused, bewildered. “Whoa… what is happening?” one of them muttered. “This is big. This is really big.” She moved closer with her phone. Bryan rushed to Stella’s defense, shielding her with his body. “Mom! Calm down!” Mrs. Croft’s face was flush with rage. “Calm down? You’re telling me to calm down? I told you, I made you promise you would break it off with this little tramp for good! You promised me! And what did you do? You brought her here, to your wedding! Are you trying to kill me?” Bryan’s face was grim. “Mom, it’s not what you think!” He took a deep, shuddering breath. “I…” He opened his mouth, but no explanation came. I couldn’t help but laugh. “Don’t bother, Bryan. You can’t think of a good lie. I don’t want to get involved in your family’s drama. All I want is to get this over with while our family and friends are here to witness it. Then we can go our separate ways.” Mrs. Croft tried one last time. “Elara, please, give him another chance. You’re the only daughter-in-law I will ever accept…” I looked at her with a flicker of pity. “Mrs. Croft, you are a good woman. But your son and I were not meant to be.” Our cryptic exchange only fueled the speculation in the room. “What is going on? It looks like Bryan has known this woman for a long time.” “Is she an ex-girlfriend the family doesn’t approve of?” “I think it’s more complicated than that.” Seeing Bryan still standing there in silence, I held up my phone again. “Since everyone is so curious, why don’t I clear things up?”

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