Author: Momo Chan

After my death, my husband didn’t avenge me. He fell in love with my killer. He spoiled her rotten. They spent their nights lost in passion. Once, when she casually mentioned my name, Sebastian’s voice turned to ice. “Why bring up a dead woman? It’s morbid.” Ally smiled, pleased. She thought Sebastian had truly forgotten me. She didn’t know that the man who came to her bed each night, the man who let her believe she was driving him wild, was a stranger—a madman, a fool paid to play a part. And Sebastian watched from the shadows, filming everything. Then, at her son’s christening, he played the tape for the world to see. 1 “Congratulations, Mrs. Croft. You’re pregnant.” The doctor’s words sent a wave of pure ecstasy through me. Sebastian and I had been married for ten years, and the childless ache in my heart had been my greatest sorrow. Now, the dream was real. I reached for my phone, desperate to share the news with him, but before I could even dial, Ally burst into our home with her men. She shattered my phone on the floor. Her bodyguards dragged me from the bed and forced me to my knees. I instinctively curled my body, trying to shield the tiny life in my womb. Ally saw the movement. Her face twisted in a mask of rage, and she struck me across the face, her voice a venomous hiss. “You’re pregnant?” “How could a washed-up old hag like you deserve Sebastian? How dare you be his wife! How dare you carry his child!” “You should just die! If you were dead, Sebastian would finally see me. He would marry me!” “Everything would be perfect if you just died.” Her eyes were wide with a hysterical madness. I stared at her, thinking she was completely insane. I knew she was obsessed with Sebastian, and I knew she hated me. But I never imagined she would kill me. I fought, but her men were too strong. They dragged me up to the roof terrace. And then, with a light push, she sent me over the edge. There was a sickening thud. I hit the ground. Agony unlike anything I had ever known consumed me. Blood blurred my vision. I managed to turn my head, my eyes falling on the rose garden below. The buds were just beginning to open. Roses were my favorite. Sebastian had planted the entire garden himself, tending to each bush with a devotion that bordered on worship. Before he left on his business trip, he had promised me, “Elara, my love, when I get back, we’ll sit in the garden and drink tea among the roses.” Sebastian… I don’t think I can keep that promise. I tried to keep my eyes open, tried to cling to life, but the fall was too far. The pain was too much. I just wanted to sleep for a little while. Just until the hurting stopped. 2 Perhaps my death was too unjust, because my soul didn’t scatter. It drifted away from our home, through the crowds and the buildings, until I found myself at Sebastian’s side. He was in his office. His assistant stood before him, suit immaculate, but with a faint flush of alcohol on his cheeks. They must have just come from a business dinner. “Mr. Croft,” the assistant said, beaming. “With this new contract, our company’s cash flow is secure. I’d like to see that old bastard, Ally’s father, try to threaten you with pulling his investment now.” The Shen family. Ally’s family. One of the city’s most powerful dynasties, with money, connections, and influence that ran deep. Sebastian’s first venture fund had come from them. He had always been grateful for their trust, even giving Ally’s father a stake in the company when it took off. Only later did he realize the investment was just a tool. Ally’s father had backed him because Ally wanted him. “It’s disgusting,” the assistant continued, his voice laced with contempt. “You’re a married man, but they keep forcing you into these dinners with her. No shame at all. And when you refuse, her father conspires with other firms to cut off our supply chain. If she were such a prize, why hasn’t anyone else married her? She’s a spoiled, arrogant brat. She can’t hold a candle to your wife.” My heart, or what was left of it, clenched. Sebastian’s brow furrowed. He shot his assistant a cold look. The assistant blinked, confused, then asked, “Sir, your wife wasn’t too upset about this business trip, was she…?” Sebastian froze for a second. When he spoke, his voice was stiff. “She has a gentle nature. She doesn’t get angry with me.” The assistant’s smile was knowing. He saw right through the lie. First, my fiery temper was legendary. Second, it was no secret that we bickered constantly. Third, the assistant knew for a fact that I had kicked Sebastian out of the house after a massive fight right before he left. And the fight had been about Ally. 3 Ally had always targeted me. Last month, at my birthday party, she’d “accidentally” stumbled into me, spilling red wine all over my dress in an attempt to humiliate me. I slapped her, hard. It felt good. The next day, Sebastian hired her as the company’s chief designer. The gossip columns had a field day. That night, Sebastian and I had the worst fight of our lives. I screamed at him, accusing him of having feelings for her. I called him heartless, a coward for not defending me. I cursed myself for ever falling in love with him. He stood there and took it, not saying a word. Furious, I threw him out. He didn’t come home after that, though he still came by the house every morning to water the roses. The day before he left for his trip, he told me he’d be gone for two weeks. I turned my back on him. He sighed, then leaned in and kissed me gently. “Elara,” he whispered. “Wait for me to come back.” I had thought he was genuinely softening toward Ally. I thought he had brought her into the company because he was giving in to her. I never knew he was being blackmailed, that our company’s survival was on the line. This whole business trip was a desperate bid to find a stronger partner, to finally break free from her family’s control. I had been so wrong. “You can go now,” Sebastian said to his assistant. The man nodded and left. Sebastian pulled out his phone, his thumb hovering over my name in his contacts. He hesitated for a long, long time. Finally, he began to type. Elara, is everything okay at home? He paused, listening to the rain drumming against the window. He sighed and continued. I was wrong the other day. When Ally went after you, I should have defended you, not hired her. I wasn’t thinking about your feelings. I’m sorry. There were reasons, I swear. When I get back, I’ll explain everything. I’ll fire her in front of everyone. I’ll make it up to you. I miss you so much. Only two more weeks. When I get back… can I have a kiss? 4 Reading the words over his shoulder, I felt a thousand phantom knives pierce my chest. A sharp, searing pain. I watched the small, hopeful smile play on his lips as he typed—a smile full of longing, apology, and anticipation. He was already dreaming of the moment he’d be home with me. My heart twisted violently. If I had known that would be our last goodbye, I would never have wasted it on anger. I reached out, wanting to rest my head on his shoulder. He used to hold me all the time, his embrace tight and warm. I used to tease him, this powerful CEO, for being so clingy. He would just grin. “It’s not illegal to be addicted to your wife.” But now, when I reached for him, my arms passed through empty air. I watched him read the message one last time before hitting send. He waited, his eyes fixed on the screen, expecting my reply. But the screen remained blank. He frowned slightly. He started to dial my number, then stopped himself, murmuring, “She’s probably still angry. I just need to finish this work and get home to her.” He called his assistant back in, and they threw themselves back into their work, a relentless, round-the-clock push. As night fell, the assistant went home, but Sebastian kept going, fueling himself with bitter coffee and stale bread. I watched him, a cold wind of grief howling through my soul. He was so full of hope, so eager to come home to me, to sit by the roses and read together. He didn’t know I was already dead. He would never see me again. The thought was a physical blow, hollowing me out until there was nothing left but a gaping, bleeding wound. 5 The next day, still no reply. Sebastian started to panic. He called the house landline. One of the maids answered. “The missus is having her afternoon tea.” “She says she doesn’t want to talk to you.” “She says you need to learn your lesson this time.” I could even hear my own impatient voice in the background. Ally had planned this meticulously. She had bribed the staff and was using an AI voice cloner. My fight with Sebastian had given her the perfect cover. He didn’t dare push me too hard. Even if he had demanded a video call, I’m sure she would have found a way. She fooled him completely. He told the maid to make sure I was eating properly, then hung up and went back to work. I watched him down cup after cup of black coffee. I knew he was desperate to see me. But what could I do? Sebastian, we would never see each other again. And he had no idea. That night, back in his hotel room, I watched him gently trace our picture on his phone’s wallpaper. In the dim light, the harsh lines of his face softened. He was a man who had clawed his way up from nothing. He was ruthless, calculating, and cold. But in recent years, as the company grew, he had sanded down his sharp edges, becoming polished and diplomatic. Sometimes, I worried he had changed too much, that he was no longer the man I had married. I worried, as the tabloids suggested, that his heart had strayed to the vibrant, younger Ally. The fear had taken root when he hired her right after she had publicly humiliated me. It’s why I had lost my mind, why our last conversation was a storm of ugly, hateful words. I drifted closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder, and whispered, “I was wrong about you. I’m so sorry.” Suddenly, Sebastian stopped what he was doing. I thought, for a wild second, that he had heard me. I looked up, a flicker of hope in my soul. This silence was unbearable. But then his phone rang. It was the hospital. “Hello, am I speaking with a relative of Ms. Elara Croft?” 6 “Ms. Croft came in for a check-up last week. We’re calling to confirm that she is one month pregnant.” Sebastian shot to his feet, a look of stunned disbelief on his face. He made the doctor confirm it three times. When the truth finally sank in, his eyes grew bright with unshed tears. “Mr. Croft, would you like to reserve a maternity suite for your wife?” Of course, he would. He booked the most luxurious suite, complete with 24-hour private medical care. He paid the deposit without a second thought. As soon as he hung up, he called my number. “I” answered. He was beaming, his voice overflowing with joy. “Elara, you’re pregnant! You have to be so careful. I’ve arranged for a private chef who specializes in prenatal nutrition. He’ll be at the house tomorrow. Are you feeling sick? Are you having any symptoms? Morning sickness?” The questions tumbled out of him. But the voice on the other end was calm, almost detached. “Yes, I am. I was going to surprise you when you got back. I feel fine. Everything is fine.” The voice was mine, but something was wrong. Sebastian’s smile faltered. He was silent for a moment, then asked, “Elara… do you miss me?” “I” gave a soft laugh. “Of course, I do.” Sebastian laughed too, pretending everything was normal. But the moment he ended the call, his face hardened into a mask of stone. He took a deep breath and dialed his assistant. His voice was like ice. “Book me on the first flight out tomorrow morning. I’m going home. You and the team will handle the rest.” Ally had made a mistake. She didn’t know that Sebastian never, ever called me Elara. Not in private. To him, that name was a nightmare. 7 We grew up together in an orphanage. The director was a kind, matronly woman who always called me by my full name, Elara. It was her special, loving nickname for me. Then, one night, she led me to a rich businessman’s room, smiling that same loving smile. “Her name is Elara,” she’d said. “The prettiest girl in the whole orphanage.” That was the night I learned that her love was a lie, that she was a monster who sold children. Sebastian nearly died getting me out of there. After that, the name Elara became a ghost that haunted my sleep. Sebastian knew this. He would never use it. He was testing the person on the phone. And she had failed. Sebastian was coming home. At the airport, he kept lighting up his phone screen, his eyes full of worry as he stared at my picture. A woman sitting next to him smiled kindly. “You must love her very much.” Sebastian looked up, startled. He glanced down at the silver band on his finger, and a rare, boyish stubbornness entered his expression. “She’s my wife.” His wife, for life. “And we’re going to have a child,” he added, a proud smile spreading across his face. A faint blush crept up his ears. “I’m going home to be with her.” The woman congratulated him warmly. Watching him, my heart ached. He was flying toward a dream that had already been shattered. “How long have you been married, to be so in love?” she asked. Sebastian didn’t have to think. “We’ve known each other for thirty years. Been married for ten.” 8 We met when we were three. We fell in love at sixteen. We married at twenty-three. When we started, we had nothing but each other. From twenty-three to thirty-three, I was by his side as he fought his way from a small town to the heart of the city. I gave him every penny I had saved. We worked multiple jobs, side-by-side, until we were numb with exhaustion. We lost a child during that time. A silent, tiny life that took root in my womb and was torn away two months later. The pain was unbearable. Lying in that hospital bed, I wept until I had no tears left. Sebastian cried harder, blaming himself, hating himself for failing me. “My love, I’m so sorry.” But apologies couldn’t bring our baby back. I told him it was okay. I told him we would have another. I never imagined I would lose another child, this time along with my own life. The thought brought a fresh wave of agony. Where had Ally hidden my body? I must have been a gruesome sight after a fall like that. Would Sebastian even recognize me? Would he find my killer? Would he avenge me? I floated closer, placing my hand over his, trying to feel his warmth. He had been awake all night and was starting to doze off, his eyes half-closed as he stared at my photo. I rested my head on his shoulder and whispered, “Sebastian, I miss you.” So close, yet a world away. Sebastian, please find me. Five hours later, the plane landed. At the same moment, his phone rang. It was the police. “Hello, are you a relative of Ms. Elara Croft? We need you to come to the hospital. Ms. Croft fell from Blackwood Cliff this morning. She was deceased when she was found.”

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1 The night before the mission, Elara, my ever-composed wife, couldn’t sleep. I knew she still had feelings for the man who killed my family. I gave her a choice: leave the mission and sign the divorce papers, or cut him out of her life forever. She spent the night violently punching the gym bags. By morning, she was bruised and hoarse but resolved. “I’m with you,” she vowed. “I’ll see this revenge through.” The firefight was intense. We were about to win—until she pressed her gun to my temple. Her hands shook as she cried, “I know he killed your family… But they’re gone! Why can’t you let it go? I love him. Please, let him go.” Furious but helpless, I watched him walk away unharmed, smirking. Within minutes, I became the joke of my own team. Then came the final blow: photos of Elara and Adrian getting married, spread across every news feed and dark web forum. That was when my heart turned to stone. If you insist on crushing my last shred of dignity, don’t blame me for what happens next. … Staring at their retreating figures, something inside me snapped. “Elara, how could you?” The words ripped from my throat, raw and full of hate. “What about my parents? They died protecting you from that monster! Have you forgotten that?!” She flinched, her steps faltering. When she turned back, her eyes were bloodshot, her voice a fragile whisper. “Caleb, Mom and Dad wouldn’t want this! They wouldn’t want to see you consumed by this hatred!” “Let Adrian go,” she pleaded. “Isn’t that a way of letting yourself go, too?” Thirty minutes. That’s all it took. The dark web forums exploded. “Elara Thorne Betrays Mercenary King for His Sworn Enemy.” 【Can’t believe the great Caleb Thorne can’t even control his own wife. Watched her run off with his nemesis? How’s he ever going to show his face again?】 【Talks a big game, acts all tough, but turns out he’s just another lovesick fool. Pathetic.】 【Hey Thorne, you give me that disputed territory on the Serrovian border, and I’ll send you two hundred women to help you get over her.】 Overnight, I went from being the most feared name in the private military world—a god of war—to a global punchline. The entire underworld was laughing at my expense. I stared at the screen, each taunt a fresh log on the fire of my rage. But before I could even formulate a response, Elara provoked me again, this time publicly. She posted on a high-profile forum, a beacon of sanctimony: 【An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind. I am willing to broker a peace summit between the two leaders to end this needless bloodshed.】 She even had the audacity to tag me and Adrian. The fury that shot through me was blinding. How dare she? How dare she presume to forgive the man who slaughtered my parents on my behalf? And yet… I agreed to the meeting. How else was I going to personally send that fucking pair to hell? The forums erupted once more. 【HOLY SHIT! Thorne is actually going? Is there no limit to how much of a doormat this guy can be?】 【LMAO, is this a throuple situation now? One big happy family?】 【Two warlords fighting over a woman. This is the dark web’s reality TV show of the year!】 I said nothing. I simply had my tech division lock onto the IPs of the three loudest commentators. That night, three precision-guided missiles found their targets. The resulting fireballs turned a thirty-mile radius into a scorched wasteland, a barren scar on the earth where nothing would grow for a decade. 【So you can dish it out but you can’t take it? Real classy, Thorne!】 【Got the balls to bomb random posters but not your actual enemy? What a coward!】 I didn’t respond. Results were always more persuasive than rhetoric. The day of the “peace talk,” Elara specifically requested I come alone. I agreed. But not before positioning a thousand of my best soldiers in concealed positions around the summit location. One word from me, and they could assemble and overwhelm the site in under sixty seconds. When Elara saw me, she forced a smile and rushed forward, ready to play peacemaker. “Caleb, Adrian knows he was wrong. He’s here today to personally apologize to you.” Adrian stood, offering a deep, formal bow. “Thorne. I’m sorry.” A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “You think three empty words are enough to pay for the lives of my parents?” Elara’s face hardened. She grabbed my arm, her voice sharp. “Caleb! We came here to talk, to make peace! What the hell is this attitude?!” I shoved her away, the back of my hand connecting with her cheek in a sharp crack. “For what he did,” I snarled, “the only outcome is one of us in a body bag.” Seeing me strike her, Adrian immediately moved to shield her, his voice a low threat. “Caleb Thorne, my men swept this place. You came alone. Today, you either accept my apology, or you don’t leave here alive.” I couldn’t help it. I laughed out loud, a harsh, grating sound. I raised a hand, pointing languidly toward the window. “Open your eyes, you idiot. There are at least a hundred rifles aimed at your heads right now. If I so much as twitch a finger, you’ll both be turned into human confetti.” Their faces went pale. A quick, panicked scan of the surrounding rooftops confirmed I wasn’t bluffing. Adrian scoffed, trying to regain his composure. “So what? If I’m going down, taking the great Caleb Thorne with me is a fair trade. We die together! Then you can have a happy little reunion with your useless parents.” He dared. He dared to mention my parents again. The rage I had suppressed for so long finally detonated. My fist crashed into his face with the force of a battering ram. I felt his nose give way with a sickening crunch. A second later, he wiped the blood from his lip, a savage grin spreading across his face as he launched a heavy kick at my chest. I dodged, grabbing him and slamming him to the floor. In one fluid motion, I drew my combat knife and pressed the blade to his throat. “You want to die with me?” I whispered, my voice deadly calm. “Dream on. I’m sending you to hell first.” I pressed the blade down. A line of crimson welled up along the steel. “Caleb! Don’t, I’m pregnant…” Elara’s voice shattered the moment. She threw herself at me, pushing me back and shielding Adrian with her own body, her voice trembling. “I don’t want my child to grow up without a father… Please, let him go… I’m begging you!” The words hit me like a physical blow. I stumbled back, collapsing into a chair, the world spinning around me. A child. They had a child. Tears streamed down Elara’s face, but all I could see was the ultimate betrayal. Five months? Was that all it took? Five short months for her to completely turn, to beg me to forget the murder of my parents, to spare the life of her new lover. But why should I? We were married for three years, and we never had children. She was the one who said she didn’t want to be “trapped by a baby,” confined to a home. She wanted to fight by my side, to be my equal, a legend in her own right. And now? Now she was telling me she was carrying the child of the man who destroyed my world? How could she? In that moment of stunned silence, Adrian saw his chance. He lunged, wrenching the knife from my grip and pressing it back against my own neck. “Let us walk out of here, right now, or I’ll send you to see your parents!” I stared into his eyes and smiled, a chilling, dead thing. “The entire foundation of this building is wired with explosives. Enough to level this whole city block.” “The moment my heart stops,” I informed him, “a dead man’s switch will turn a fifty-mile radius into a smoking crater.” Elara’s face was a mask of horror, her eyes wide and red-rimmed. “Caleb, you’re insane… We came here to talk. You gave us your word!” My word? She had the nerve to speak to me of broken promises? “Elara, you are the most despicable thing I have ever known.” Before the words even left my mouth, I snapped my head to the side, breaking his hold and twisting the knife back into my hand. The blade sliced my palm open, blood dripping onto the floor, but I felt nothing. Expressionless, I raised my bloodied hand and gave a sharp, almost imperceptible signal. The doors and windows shattered inwards as nearly a hundred of my elite soldiers stormed the room. In seconds, all of Adrian’s hidden guards were dragged out, disarmed and subdued. I shook the blood from my hand and tossed a single sheet of paper onto the table in front of Elara. A divorce decree. “Sign it,” I ordered. “Don’t dirty my family’s name any longer.” But instead of signing, she snatched the paper and ripped it to shreds. “No,” she said, her voice shaking with a twisted sort of defiance. “I won’t. Mom and Dad treated me like their own daughter. They’re barely cold in their graves and you’re already throwing me out? Aren’t you afraid of what they would think?” She knew. She knew how much my parents had adored her. And she was using their memory as a shield for her and her monster. “A backstabbing, ungrateful bitch like you?” I spat. “My parents would be celebrating the fact that I finally see you for what you are. And don’t you dare think that marriage certificate is some kind of get-out-of-jail-free card…” Before I could finish, Adrian started barking like the dog he was. “Thorne, if you lay another finger on Elara, I’ll kill you!” “Are you still not clear on the situation here?” I looked at the pathetic, struggling pair, a wave of nausea washing over me. The next second, one of my men sent Adrian to the floor with a brutal kick to the ribs. I walked over slowly, grinding the sole of my boot into his chest. My second-in-command handed me a dagger. “Alright,” I said, my voice deceptively calm. I took the dagger. “Then I’ll start with you.” I dug the tip of the blade under his fingernail. Adrian screamed. “This is what you did to my father, isn’t it?” One by one, I pried off all ten. Then, I moved the dagger towards the palm of his hand. Suddenly, a gunshot echoed through the room, and a searing pain exploded in my shoulder. The dagger clattered to the floor.

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1 A traffic ticket for my husband arrived in my email. I tapped open the attachment. The photo wasn’t of him speeding. It showed my husband, Oliver, and another woman, mouths locked in a passionate kiss, neither of them wearing a seatbelt. My heart felt like it was being torn in two. As tears blurred my vision, a few lines of text scrolled across the screen, like comments from some unseen audience. 【LOL, the ex-wife is so pathetic. They’re just a cute couple having a moment, what’s she getting worked up about?】 【She probably doesn’t even know. When the male lead said they needed a ‘fake’ divorce to buy a new property, it was actually so he could marry our sweet Mia.】 My fingers trembled as I dialed the number for the city registrar’s office. “Yes, ma’am,” the clerk’s voice confirmed, detached and professional. “Our system shows that an Oliver Cole finalized a marriage certificate with a Ms. Mia Vance the day after his divorce from you was registered.” The phone slipped from my grasp, clattering onto the floor. Mia. Of course. I knew the name. Mia was his first love, the one that got away, the woman who had abandoned him at his lowest point. The comments continued to flood my vision. 【Welcome back, Queen Mia! Welcome back, Queen Mia!】 … Numb and disoriented, I found myself standing outside Oliver’s corporate headquarters. I just needed to ask him why. Why the lies? As the elevator ascended towards the top floor, I heard the sounds of a party. The doors were just about to open when a chorus of voices erupted from the executive suite. “To Oliver and Mia! Happy one-month anniversary!” The pop of champagne corks and a burst of applause followed. The elevator doors slid open. I froze, suddenly feeling like an intruder about to shatter their perfect moment. “What about Zoey?” someone asked, cluelessly. Oliver’s voice was cold, dismissive. “I gave her enough good years. She got her value out of it. Today is my anniversary with Mia. She deserves to be spoiled for once, don’t you think?” The ghostly comments agreed. 【Exactly! Our Mia has suffered so much. She finally gets to be with her true love.】 【Mia and the male lead are a match made in heaven. The ex-wife can go eat dust.】 【Bet the ex-wife doesn’t know this, but on their wedding day, the male lead got a call and rushed out of the ceremony? That was Mia. He’d finally found her again. They spent the rest of the day in bed together, screwing their brains out. He was so exhausted he forgot to even call the ex-wife back.】 A chill settled deep in my bones. So that’s why he never picked up. I’d spent that night, my wedding night, a sobbing mess, my makeup ruined, terrified that something terrible had happened to him. I sat by the phone all night. When he finally called the next day, his voice hoarse, I’d cried with relief. “I forgive you, Oliver. I don’t care why you left yesterday. As long as you’re alive and okay, I forgive you.” Now, I heard Mia’s voice, sweet and considerate. “Oliver only married me out of pity. He still has feelings for Zoey. I know he’ll find a way to balance his love for both of us.” Someone else chimed in. “What if Zoey finds out? You know how she is. Once she sets her mind on something, you can’t change it. She’ll never agree to the three of you.” A dangerous edge crept into Oliver’s voice. “Then she will never find out.” That was it. That was the answer that shattered the last piece of my heart. A part of me had wanted to believe the comments were a lie, a cruel trick of my mind. Oliver loved me. He had promised he would only ever marry me. But promises mean nothing when a new love appears. I wiped the tears from my eyes and pressed the elevator’s down button. If that’s how it was going to be, then I would disappear from their lives forever. I filed the paperwork to relinquish my citizenship, erase my identity, and applied for a new passport. I would start over, abroad, as someone else entirely. The documents would take two weeks. Two more weeks, and then a woman named Zoey would cease to exist in Oliver’s world. A week passed. Not a single text, not a single call from him. Then, on the seventh day, Oliver finally noticed my absence. He found me, holding a diamond necklace, and dropped to his knees before me. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ve been buried in work. I completely forgot to make time for you.” The comments danced above his head. 【A whole week. Mia and the male lead spent an entire week in a seaside villa. That man has some serious stamina.】 【Ugh, why is the ex-wife still here? She’s so gross. Totally killing the vibe while I’m trying to watch Mia and the male lead’s personal porn show.】 I stared into Oliver’s seemingly sincere eyes, my mind drifting back to when we first met. He was eighteen, a beautiful boy confined to a wheelchair, his long lashes casting dark shadows on his cheeks. I fell for him instantly. I was there for him through every painful step of his rehabilitation, helping him learn to stand, to walk, to run again. The day he was fully healed, he ran across the lawn, grabbed my hands, his eyes shining. “Zoey, I can’t live without you. You saved me. Will you stay with me, always?” But people change. My gaze fell on the man kneeling before me now. Before I could respond, Oliver was already fastening the diamond necklace around my neck. “I chartered a yacht for us,” he murmured, his warm breath tickling my ear. “There’s a captain’s dinner tonight. Come with me.” At the dinner, Oliver pulled me onto the dance floor. His steps were different, more complex and aggressive than I remembered. I had to concentrate fully just to keep up. Suddenly, his body went rigid. His hand loosened its grip on mine, and I was sent stumbling, flying outwards. I landed hard, scraping my knee raw on the deck. When I looked back, Oliver was staring intently at a figure across the room. It was Mia. She stood there, biting her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. By the time Oliver started after her, she had already turned and fled. “Honey, something’s come up. Just stay here for a bit, okay?” His eyes never left Mia’s retreating form. He didn’t even glance at me, crumpled on the floor. No one offered a hand. I pushed myself up, biting back the pain, and limped towards the restroom to clean my wound. As I approached, I heard noises from inside. Inappropriate noises. Mia’s breathy moans. “No, not in here.” Oliver’s voice was a husky, coaxing tone. “Shh, it’s okay. Just once. Just for a minute.” There was a rustle of clothing, a blending of breaths, the sound of hungry kisses. Mia’s hands were on his chest in a show of pushing him away, but her eyes were like silk, luring him in. “Zoey is still out there waiting for you.” His face was flushed with desire, my existence completely erased from his mind. “Forget her. Right now, all I want is you.” “I don’t want to cause a fight between you two. You love her, and I love you.” Her voice caught in a sob, maybe because he was being too rough in his haste. “I just want you to be happy.” At that, his movements seemed to soften. His lips traveled from her neck down to her chest. Mia’s body trembled, a soft moan escaping her lips. Oliver chuckled, his voice a low, gentle rumble. “See? You want it too. Just open up a little more for me.” To better accommodate him, Mia wrapped her arms around his neck, surrendering completely. I stood frozen, tears streaming down my face, a pain so sharp in my chest I could barely breathe. By the time Oliver returned, the dinner was over. But he had a gift for me. “Sweetheart,” he said, wrapping his arms around me. The scent of his soap, the same scent that was all over her, made me want to vomit. “The most expensive jewels for the most beautiful woman.” A wave of nausea hit me, and I shoved him away, bile rising in my throat. He wasn’t angry. He just gently took a napkin and wiped my mouth. “Not feeling well? We’ll go home early. You shouldn’t drink so much.” I looked up and saw the flash of jealousy in Mia’s eyes as she watched us. “Let me help Zoey downstairs to rest,” Mia offered, reaching for my arm. I flinched away. But I never could have predicted she would be willing to gamble with her own life. There was a sudden rush of wind beside me. I saw Oliver lunge forward, his hands desperately grabbing for Mia as she tumbled over the railing. Then, the icy shock of seawater closing over my head. “Man overboard!” The shouts from the deck were panicked and distant. The crushing pressure in my lungs was overwhelming. As my consciousness faded, Oliver’s face flashed before my eyes, shattering and reforming into the sounds of him and Mia in the restroom. When I opened my eyes again, I was in a hospital bed. My body was wrapped in so many bandages I couldn’t move anything but my eyes. I must have looked ridiculous. Directly in my line of sight, Mia was sobbing in Oliver’s arms. “It’s all my fault,” she cried. “If I hadn’t lost my balance, you would have caught Zoey. It’s my fault. Punish me!” Her pathetic, helpless act seemed to ignite something in Oliver. He had no intention of blaming her. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, kissing the tears from her eyes. “You little troublemaker. I could never hurt you.” “Come on, call me ‘hubby,’ and I’ll forgive you.” “Hubby,” she whispered, giving his chest a playful tap. The sound of rustling fabric followed. The comments reappeared. 【Ooh, are we about to get another show?】 I couldn’t take it anymore. I summoned every ounce of strength I had. “Oliver.” My voice was a broken rasp, the taste in my mouth bitter. He jumped as if electrocuted, shoving Mia off his lap so hard she tumbled to the floor. “Zoey! Are you okay?” He scrambled to my bedside, his panic genuine, the concern in his voice real. I said nothing, my gaze dropping to Mia on the floor. A few buttons on her blouse were undone, revealing the pale skin beneath. I didn’t understand. How could a man who was moments away from taking her right there suddenly rush to my side and perform this act of devoted concern? “What’s going to happen to the person who tried to kill me?” I asked, my voice cold, my question a deliberate test. Oliver’s expression changed instantly. He thought I was going after Mia and immediately jumped to her defense. “Mia didn’t mean to. She’s been hurt, too. Can’t you just forgive her?” I wanted to laugh. “She’s hurt? What kind of injury? The kind you get from spreading your legs for too long?” “You know?” I didn’t answer, my silence a heavy weight in the room. Seeing my expression, Oliver dropped the pretense. His voice turned accusatory. “You’re a woman, too. How can you be so vulgar?” “You need to think about your attitude. When you’ve calmed down and you’re ready to apologize to Mia, I’ll come back.” He turned, helped Mia up from the floor, and they left. Leaving me, a patient who couldn’t even care for herself, alone in the room. I laughed, a broken, hollow sound, as tears streamed from the corners of my eyes. The comments scrolled mercilessly above me. 【The ex-wife got what she deserved. Who does she think she is, blaming our sweet Mia?】 【Just die already, ex-wife. You’re just an eyesore for Mia and the male lead.】 【Hope the male lead floors it on the way home. They need to finish what they started in the hospital.】 In that moment, I felt the blood in my veins turn to ice. When I was well enough, Oliver came to pick me up from the hospital. He’d brought his entire office staff with him, all holding bouquets. “Mrs. Cole, you’re so lucky to have a wonderful husband like Mr. Cole,” one of them gushed. The comments sneered. 【Flowers? Big deal. Our Mia has a new house. A love nest from the male lead.】 In front of everyone, I pushed Oliver away. He panicked, grabbing my arm. “Are you still angry? I’ve already forgiven you, what more do you want?” I ignored his question, my eyes scanning the crowd. “Where’s Mia?” The comments preened. 【Our Mia was up very late last night. Of course she wouldn’t come to see you.】 Oliver’s face hardened, all traces of tenderness gone. “Why are you always so obsessed with Mia? Is it really that hard for you to be a little more generous?” His grip on my wrist tightened, so hard I thought the bones would snap. The fragile pieces of my heart, which had just started to mend, shattered all over again. His phone rang. He let go of me to answer it. It was Mia, her sobs frantic and convincing. “Oliver… help me… I’ve been kidnapped… by men Zoey sent… They said they won’t let me leave here alive.” “They’re going to… they’re going to sell me to the rings… as a prostitute. Please, you have to save me, I’m so scared… sob.” Oliver’s face contorted with rage. He dropped the phone and his hands shot out, closing around my neck. “Tell me,” he snarled, his face demonic, “where did you take her?” It took all my strength to knock his hands away. Gasping for air, I choked out my defense. “It wasn’t me. I didn’t do it.” “We’ve been married for three years. Don’t you have any trust in me at all?” He regained a sliver of composure. “I know you wouldn’t. But Mia has been taken. How can you stand there and let someone die because of you?” See? He still didn’t believe me. Even knowing I’d been bedridden in a hospital for a month, unable to orchestrate anything. His voice dropped to a threat. “Zoey, if anything happens to Mia, I will make you pay.” I met his dark, furious gaze. “I don’t know,” I repeated. “I really don’t know. I didn’t send anyone to kidnap Mia. I can say it a hundred times and the answer will be the same.” A chilling coldness radiated from him. “I’ll trust you this one time,” he said, his words like shards of ice. “But you better pray that when I find out the truth, your name isn’t attached to it.” He left. The crowd of people who had arrived with him vanished just as quickly. As he walked away, I saw him pull out his phone, his voice sharp and commanding. “Get every man we have on this. I want to know Mia’s last known location, now.” His car sped off, leaving me choking on a cloud of exhaust fumes. I stumbled to my feet, my wrist screaming in pain, probably dislocated. My head throbbed from his shouting. I couldn’t go anywhere. I turned back towards the hospital to find a doctor. As I walked down the hall, nurses and patients pointed and whispered. “That’s her. The one whose husband cheated, so she had the mistress kidnapped and sold.” “So vindictive. No wonder he cheated on her. I wouldn’t be able to stand her either.” Rage, shame, and heartbreak warred inside me. Where was the doctor? I needed a doctor. My vision blurred, my steps faltered. The world went black, and I collapsed. I woke up to water being splashed on my face. My arms were bound tightly, my mouth sealed with duct tape. My wrist was on fire; not only had it not been treated, but the injury was now far worse. 【Awesome! The ex-wife got kidnapped too. Let’s see who comes to save her now.】 【Hehe, they should sell her off quick. Sell her somewhere far, far away. That’ll teach her to compete for our male lead.】 【Looks like the male lead is here! Our Mia is just over there. Go save her, hero!】 Through the comments, I pieced together my situation. Through the thin black fabric of a blindfold, I could see Oliver holding Mia, who was crying dramatically in his arms. “Oh, Oliver, I knew you’d come for me!” He let her cling to him, stroking her back soothingly. I stared at her face. Her makeup was perfect. Her hands and feet were unbound. Not a single hair was out of place. This wasn’t a kidnapping. It was a performance. I understood instantly and began to struggle, making muffled noises to get Oliver’s attention. But then Mia spoke, and my struggles ceased.

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1 For ten years, Nina and I were the industry’s most notorious couple—and it was all an act. If she dined with a male co-star, I flipped the table. If she filmed a kiss, I’d storm the set. I fueled endless negative press to keep her in the spotlight, watching her rise to stardom while I became the most hated man in Hollywood. It ended when she was photographed checking into a hotel with Felix, the new heartthrob. She issued one statement: 【It’s real.】 Fans celebrated but warned Felix: “Watch out for Leo, that psycho.” Felix mocked me on live: “A good dog knows its place. It doesn’t bite its master.” Then Nina texted me: 【Don’t act this time. The brand wants us to play up our relationship. Be good.】 I laughed coldly. She’d forgotten one thing: I, Leo Ashworth, am competitive. I hold grudges. I repay every debt. The psycho was never an act. … When I crashed Nina’s lovey-dovey livestream, the host was in the middle of a question. “Nina, what are your thoughts on the rumors that you and Leo Ashworth have a toxic, on-again, off-again relationship?” “We are not in a relationship.” Nina’s voice was as cool and placid as ever. With one sentence, she severed our ten-year history. The live chat erupted with comments praising her for being so direct. Just then, the host spotted me striding onto the set. In an instant, every camera swiveled and zoomed in on my face. I met their lenses with a dead-eyed stare. Fresh scratches from my latest manufactured brawl marred my cheekbone. The fight had been simple: Nina didn’t want to film a kissing scene with some rising star, so I’d shown up and made a scene. She shot to the top of the trending topics again, her new drama a guaranteed hit before it even aired. I, on the other hand, spent the next two weeks being hounded by the press and had my head split open by a rock thrown by an extremist fan. Seeing me, a flicker of panic crossed Nina’s usually unflappable face. Her brow furrowed, a wall of defense rising in her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, instinctively moving to shield Felix who was sitting beside her. I just stood there, and the entire studio tensed, treating me like a bomb about to detonate. The live chat on the massive screen behind them scrolled with derision. 【OMG, the real couple makes it official and the psycho ex actually shows up? Look at his face, all scratched up. He’s here to make a fool of himself.】 【Did you see how Nina instinctively protected our sweet Felix!! I’m shipping it so hard! The psycho is just embarrassing himself!】 【Can someone get security? She already denied their relationship on live TV. Why is he still clinging to her? It’s pathetic.】 【Seriously, can this infamous industry troll stop leeching off Nina’s fame? Every time he goes crazy, it’s terrifying. He’s probably abusive IRL.】 Somewhere along the way, my name had become synonymous with “psycho.” I didn’t argue. I just repeated her words back to her, my voice low and dangerous. “Not in a relationship?” It was half-question, half-accusation, laced with the bitter sting of a decade of sacrifice. She had promised me she would never be close to another man. Nina met my gaze with that same infuriatingly calm expression, effortlessly sidestepping the weight of my question. “Leo, just look at the state of yourself,” she said, her tone dripping with disappointment. “Stop demeaning yourself like this. Go home.” Her composure was a stark contrast to my raw, unhinged presence. The live chat immediately exploded with praise for Nina’s grace and compassion, lauding her for giving even a “maniac” like me a dignified exit. She accepted their praise without a hint of irony. After playing a part for so long, she seemed to have forgotten who it was that had thrown his dignity away to build her this “unhinged protector” persona in the first place. A deep, unforgiving chill began to spread through my chest. The internet trolls had one thing right. I was a mad dog. And everything she had today, she’d gotten by standing on my back. I deserved an explanation. But before I could speak, Felix, the boy she was protecting, shot to his feet, placing himself firmly between us. He snatched a teacup from the table and flung its contents into my face. “That’s enough!” he cried, his voice trembling with manufactured bravery. “Stop harassing Nina!” The scalding liquid hit the open scratches on my cheek, and a thousand tiny needles of pain erupted across my skin. I winced, my jaw clenching. Felix, dressed in a simple white T-shirt, looked heartbreakingly fragile and defiant as he stood with his arms spread, shielding his damsel. Nina saw my pained reaction and instinctively leaned forward, about to check on me, but Felix’s next words stopped her cold. “The tea is lukewarm,” he declared, his voice ringing with certainty. “You can act all you want, but no one’s going to pity you. We all know what kind of person you are!” Hearing his confidence, Nina’s expression hardened again. “Are you still acting?” she snapped at me. “Was I not clear enough?” My face was flushed red from the hot tea, but she didn’t seem to see it. Or care. The chat went wild with praise for Felix. 【Our boy Felix is so amazing, bravely standing up to the industry’s biggest bully!! That tea splash was ICONIC!】 【It’s always the psycho beating up on others. Finally, someone puts him in his place. Felix, our little angel of justice!】 【He was literally shaking with fear but he still protected Nina. Tell me they aren’t the real deal!】 【But won’t the psycho retaliate? He’s famous for getting revenge…】 【No way! Felix is protected by Orion Enterprises. Every big shot in the industry has to treat him with respect. Leo is just a D-list celebrity famous for being trash. If he touches a hair on Felix’s head, the corporate overlords will crush him!】 Nina’s disgust was palpable. “Leo, stop this. Can’t you have a shred of dignity?” My heart plummeted. “Nina,” I asked suddenly, my voice hollow. “Do you know how many scars are on my body?” She blinked, caught off guard. “What?” “Fifty-nine.” For ten years, playing the part of the mad dog, I had chased away every man who got too close. She didn’t want to drink with producers, so I crashed the dinner and started a fight. She didn’t want to do a promo livestream with a co-star, so I smashed the set. She rode the wave of controversy I created all the way to the top, becoming a household name. In return, their crazed fans took their revenge on me. They put needles in my water bottle. They threw rocks at me on the street. The longest scar on my body came from a stalker who stabbed me in an alley. She used to cry when she saw those ugly marks. Now, all she could talk about was dignity. Ten years. Fifty-nine permanent reminders of my devotion. What the hell was dignity? I’d forgotten long ago. Seeing my silence, Nina grew impatient. “What does that have to do with anything? It’s your own fault for being so extreme.” I stared at her, taking a slow step forward. “You’re right,” I said, my voice dangerously soft. “And since you know how extreme I can be, you should also know I’m not the type to suffer in silence.” Realization dawned on her face. She moved to shield Felix again, her voice rising in alarm. “I told you, don’t you dare touch Felix!” When I didn’t stop, she finally played her trump card. “Felix is with Orion Enterprises! Do you want to throw your career away? They’ll have you blacklisted!” I finally stopped. The live chat lit up with mockery. 【See? Felix is the golden boy of the corporation. I knew he wouldn’t dare!】 【No one who messes with Felix in this industry gets away with it.】 Felix saw me hesitate and puffed out his chest, a smug look on his face. “Now you get it. Get on your knees and apologize, and I might forgive you.” My eyes scanned the set, landing on a decorative bottle of red wine on the table. In the next second, without a flicker of hesitation, I snatched the bottle and brought it crashing down on his head. “Orion Enterprises?” I sneered as his eyes rolled back in his head. “You? You’re all nothing.” The bottle was a sugar-glass prop, but the shock was enough to make Felix faint on the spot. Nina, without a backward glance at me, rushed him to the hospital. The clip of me assaulting him went viral. My agent’s call came minutes later, his voice dripping with fury. “Do you have any idea who you just touched? Felix is the heir to Orion Enterprises! Not even I can protect you this time!” he screamed down the line. “Your reputation is destroyed! The breach of contract penalty is three million dollars! You couldn’t afford that if you sold your own organs!” “Your only option is to apologize. Beg for his forgiveness. Otherwise, you’re on your own!” Nina had recommended this agent to me. I knew those words were coming straight from her. The last bit of warmth in me died. I hung up without a word. If any of them had a single working brain cell, they might have wondered why, after ten years of offending countless celebrities, not one had ever truly come after me. It wasn’t because they didn’t want to. It was because they didn’t dare. I took a deep breath, opened my messaging app, and sent a text to my family’s group chat. 【Dad, I’ve thought it over. I’m ready to come home.】 I went back to the villa Nina and I shared to pack my things. When I opened the door, I found Felix standing there, wearing my pajamas. He flinched when he saw me. Then, as if remembering his position, he straightened up, deliberately tilting his head to show off the faint, suggestive marks on his neck. “Oh, hey, big brother. Sorry about this. I didn’t realize you two were a real couple. After I got hurt, the investors insisted I stay here with Nina to recover. It’s all for the cameras, you know.” He smirked. “Nina needs my popularity to get an invitation to the Film Guild Gala. Your kind of infamy would only drag her down.” I shot him a withering glare, having no interest in his games. “Get out of my way.” I brushed past him and went to my bedroom. The minimalist space I had designed was gone. In its place were trendy, garish furniture and graffiti-covered walls. I froze, then frantically scanned the room for the picture frame that always sat on my desk. It was the only photo I had of my late mother. A voice came from behind me. Felix was leaning against the doorframe, dangling something from his hand. “Looking for this?” It was the frame. “Give it back,” I growled, striding toward him. He gave me a sly, knowing smile. Just as I reached him, he let his hand go slack. The frame dropped, shattering on the hardwood floor. “Oops,” he said with fake innocence. “My bad, brother.” Then, he ground his heel onto the photograph itself. “I heard your mom died a long time ago. Who keeps a picture of a dead person in their room? So morbid.” A murderous rage surged through me. I raised my hand to strike him, but before my palm could connect, Nina, who had just arrived, grabbed my wrist. “Leo, have you completely lost it?!” she yelled. “I already told you, Felix and I are just business partners! Why are you so jealous of him?!” Felix peeked over her shoulder, a triumphant smirk on his face. My eyes flickered from Nina’s disgusted expression to the shattered photo on the floor. I took a deep, steadying breath. “Nina,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “We’re done.” She stared at me, stunned into silence. I took the opportunity to yank my hand free. In one swift, brutal motion, I grabbed a fistful of Felix’s hair. “Now,” I said, my voice as cold as the grave. “It’s time for you and me to settle our accounts.” Felix shrieked in pain. “Nina, help me! Mr. Hayes and the media are coming to interview us! Don’t let this lunatic ruin your career!” Nina snapped out of her shock, her face paling with panic. “Leo, stop! I let your other tantrums slide, but if you make a scene in front of Mr. Hayes, your career is over!” “Nina, I played the part of a maniac for you for ten years,” I said, my voice dripping with ice as I slapped Felix hard across the face. His cheek instantly swelled. “What career do you think I have left?” “That,” I snarled, “was for touching my things.” I yanked his head down, preparing to grind his face into the shards of broken glass on the floor. The first rule I learned growing up in the Ashworth family was simple: if someone throws mud at you, you shove their face in the swamp. Fear breeds respect. As I expected, Felix started sobbing. “Are you crazy?! I’m sorry… I was wrong, I was wrong! Please, don’t ruin my face!” I felt nothing. People should pay for their actions. But in the next second, Nina shouted for her bodyguards. Several large men rushed in, grabbing my arms and pinning me. “Enough! How long are you going to keep this up? You’re acting like a hysterical shrew. You’re nothing like the man I used to know.” “He destroyed the only photo I have of my mother, and you think I’m in the wrong?!” I roared, my eyes red with fury. Nina paused, turning to Felix. “Is that true?” “I was going to give it back to him, I swear!” Felix whimpered, burying his face in Nina’s shoulder. “But he came at me so aggressively, I got scared and dropped it…” Nina’s heart immediately softened. The look she gave me was filled with revulsion. “So this is your own fault, then,” she said coldly. “Now, apologize to Felix.” I gritted my teeth, refusing to speak. At her nod, the bodyguards dragged me forward and forced me to my knees in front of him. “Brother, I’m not a bully like you,” Felix said, looking down at me, his voice dripping with false magnanimity. “Just get on your knees, bow your head, and apologize, and I’ll forgive you.” He placed his expensive leather shoe on the back of my hand and pressed down. A sharp, grinding pain shot up my arm. I met his gaze and let out a cold laugh. “You better pray I never get my hands on you again. Because when I do, I’m going to break your fucking leg.”

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1 The tense silence in the conference room was thick. My department was in the middle of a final pitch when a voice, clear as a bell, echoed in everyone’s mind: My sister’s face is so flushed. She must be playing with that little toy again. I can’t say a word, or the client will tear up our contract. The client’s representatives exchanged uneasy glances. The deal was dead. My manager, purple with rage, canceled our entire department’s bonuses. I became the object of everyone’s scorn. My life spiraled. I clawed my way back, using my expertise to single-handedly win back the project, earning a promotion. But then, my sister’s inner voice sighed for all to hear: Vivian looks successful, but it’s a sham. She slept her way to the top. The CEO’s wife, our company’s Vice President, heard it. At the company-wide ceremony, she publicly slapped me, branding me a homewrecker. My reputation was destroyed. I was ostracized and forced to resign. At my farewell dinner, her voice struck one last time: This is a trap. Vivian drugged the drinks to hand them to executives at her new company. My colleagues, consumed by mob mentality, beat me to death. As I died, I wondered why everyone turned on me with such venom. I only understood when I woke up—reborn. And this time, I could hear my sister’s thoughts, too. The conference room again. A colleague was droning on about market projections. A wave of dizziness washed over me; the fever I was fighting made each breath a struggle, painting my cheeks a deep crimson. The hand I had started to raise for help froze mid-air. I was back. It had all happened. In my last life, I had spearheaded this project. I insisted on leading the final presentation, despite being sick. I never imagined it would be the first step into my own personal hell. As if on cue, my sister Molly’s inner voice, a saccharine whisper in my mind, began. Wow, Vivian’s face is beet red. Oh my god, is she really that bold? Using her vibrator… here? I know she has trouble controlling herself, but this is insane. At home is one thing, but bringing it to the office? In front of all these people? Is she just addicted to the rush? Should I stop her? But if I say something, the client will get furious and cancel everything. What do I do? I lifted my head, my gaze locking onto Molly. Disbelief warbled my vision. Was she the one who had orchestrated my ruin? But why? She was my sister. My own flesh and blood. That very fact had made her mental broadcasts so devastatingly effective. Everyone believed her instantly, their stares turning from professional to perverse. I remembered the confusion from my past life, wondering why my normally supportive colleagues had let our manager throw me, the project lead, out of the room without a single word in my defense. Afterward, they docked everyone’s bonuses, and I, consumed by guilt, assumed my fever had offended the client. I didn’t dare argue. I just worked harder. But this wasn’t my past life anymore. This was a second chance. My hand slipped into my pocket, my fingers closing around a small pill. I was mildly allergic to one of its ingredients; within a minute, it would trigger an asthma attack. To them, a feverish blush didn’t look like sickness; it looked like sin. So what if I got sicker? What if it became a matter of life and death? I looked up and met Molly’s eyes. They glittered with a defiant, triumphant light. As the team’s curious gazes intensified, I bit down hard on my lip, a pained groan escaping. It was the perfect sound effect, confirming every sordid detail of Molly’s inner monologue. She had no idea I was playing along. You can’t win the game if you’re not willing to be a piece on the board. The room fell silent. My manager, Mark, slammed his hand on the table, his face a mask of fury. “Vivian Hale, get the hell out of my sight!” he roared. Before I could respond, Molly shot up, rushing to my side and grabbing my arm. “Vivian, are you feeling alright? Let me help you out of here.” Her thoughts, however, told a different story. If she stays in here any longer, she’s going to orgasm and pass out in front of everyone. I can’t let that happen. It would be too obvious. Her fingers dug into my bicep like talons as she practically dragged me toward the door. And then, just as we reached the threshold, I let it happen. My breath hitched. I gasped, clutching my chest, and collapsed to the floor in a heap. The illusion of a faint was complete. Molly’s mental voice skyrocketed in volume, a panicked megaphone blasting in everyone’s ears. Oh, crap, too late. She actually came and passed out. She’s wearing a skirt today! What if the damn thing vibrates its way out? The explicit thought shocked the room into a stunned silence. Mark stared down at me, his expression twisting with disgust as if I were something he’d scraped off his shoe. He drew back his foot and kicked me hard in the ribs. “Having filth like you in this company pollutes the very air we breathe,” he spat. “Stop faking it. I’m telling you right now, you’re fired!” Molly, who had been frantically calling my name, suddenly stood up, her face a picture of righteous indignation. “You can’t just fire my sister! She has slaved away for this company for years! If you’re going to fire her, you owe her severance!” I was only pretending to be unconscious, but hearing those words sent a genuine pang of pain through my chest. The little sister I had practically raised wasn’t just trying to destroy me; she was trying to squeeze every last drop of value from my corpse. Mark snorted. “Severance? I should be making her hand over that… thing. A degenerate woman like her is lucky I don’t.” Seething, he lifted his leg for another kick. Before his foot could connect, a powerful voice cut through the chaos. “Stop!” A path cleared through the gawking crowd. A man knelt beside me, immediately starting chest compressions. “Mark, what the hell is wrong with you? We’re a medical tech firm! Can’t you see she’s having an asthma attack? Instead of helping, you’re assaulting her?” Recognizing that voice, I finally let myself truly slip into darkness. When I woke up, the sterile smell of a hospital filled my nostrils. Back in the conference room, I had sent a text to the one person who could fix this: Mr. Grant, the CEO and founder of the company. I told him I’d had a breakthrough on the new prototype and needed to meet with him urgently. I knew he valued this project above all else. More importantly, he was a doctor by training, and he knew about my asthma. I was safe. Mr. Grant’s furious voice echoed from the hallway. “What were you thinking, Mark? Your employee collapses and you decide to kick her? In front of a client? Do you have any idea what this does to our company’s reputation?” Mark’s voice was a pathetic mumble. “It was Vivian… she was playing with one of those… things… in the meeting. Her face was all red, everyone in the office knew, I thought—” “Thought what?” Mr. Grant roared. “That was a high fever triggering an asthma attack! You nearly killed her, you idiot! Just… just go in there, apologize to her, and then pack your things. You’re done here.” A moment later, a defeated-looking Mark shuffled in and offered a half-hearted apology. Our firm was number one in the industry. After a scandal like this, his career was effectively over. He’d be blacklisted. He channeled all his rage onto the person he blamed for his downfall. He lunged for Molly, who was cowering in the corner, his hands closing around her throat. “You bitch!” he screamed, his voice cracking with hysteria. “It was you! Your twisted thoughts about your sister wanting a thrill… you made me do this! You misled me! I’ve lost everything because of you, and now I’m going to kill you!” The other colleagues stared, stunned. For the first time, they realized it wasn’t just a fluke. Everyone could hear Molly’s thoughts. Molly’s face turned purple as she clawed at Mark’s hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Let me go!” she rasped. When he didn’t relent, she turned her pleading eyes to me. “Vivian… help… me…” The others finally snapped out of their shock and pulled Mark off her. Molly collapsed, coughing, but the look she gave me was pure venom. “Why didn’t you help me, Vivian? After I was trying to help you!” she cried. “Are you really going to believe their crazy talk over your own sister? Do you think I would ever try to hurt you?” I said nothing. After being discharged, I moved out of our shared apartment and into the company dorms. I poured every waking moment into refining my project proposal. Weeks later, I successfully landed a massive new contract, and with it, a promotion to Mark’s old position as manager. At my celebration dinner, Molly’s voice surfaced again. I’m happy for my sister, I really am. But she didn’t earn this promotion with her skills. Isn’t that unfair to everyone else who worked so hard? They don’t know the truth. Vivian has been sleeping with multiple clients. There’s even one who’s over sixty, with a combover, who smells like he hasn’t showered in a week. I don’t know how she can stomach it. The cheerful chatter in the restaurant died. A dozen pairs of eyes swiveled toward me, simmering with a cocktail of disgust, contempt, and morbid curiosity. Molly, feigning ignorance, continued her silent broadcast. A few of the senior executives are in on it, too. Especially Mr. Grant. I’ve seen Vivian sneaking into his office when no one’s looking. She goes in wearing a prim white blouse and comes out with it buttoned wrong and her hair a mess. That whole ‘vibrator in the conference room’ incident? Mr. Grant was the one who covered it up. Her mental gaze shifted to Eleanor Grant, the VP, and her thoughts dripped with faux pity. Poor Mrs. Grant. She and the CEO have always been seen as the perfect couple, so in love after all these years. I can’t believe he’d throw it all away for my sister… Eleanor’s face was a thundercloud. Mr. Grant was away on business and couldn’t attend the dinner. The other male executives at the table nervously avoided each other’s eyes, each wondering who among them was being implicated. Eleanor’s patience snapped. She shot to her feet, lunged across the table, and grabbed a fistful of my hair. “You little slut!” she shrieked. “You dare touch my husband?” In my previous life, this was the moment that sealed my fate. Eleanor had branded me a homewrecker, a stain that never washed off. Even after Mr. Grant returned and cleared my name, the damage was done. People believe what they see, and what they had seen was a public beatdown. But this time, I was ready. I had been watching Eleanor all night. The second she moved, I dodged back. I scrambled over to the presentation laptop and connected it to the projector, flooding the large screen with my work from the past several weeks. “Mrs. Grant, I don’t know what you’ve been led to believe,” I said, my voice steady, “but I have proof for every single step I took to win this contract.” An image appeared on the screen—a grainy photo of me sitting on a curb outside a client’s office building at dawn. “This was me, waiting for the lead client. I followed him from his office to his home, just begging for five minutes to present my proposal.” Another photo: me, soaking wet, holding a small, crying child, with the same client and his wife looking on in gratitude. “I ended up saving his son from drowning in their pool. As a thank you, he gave me a chance. His wife and I are good friends now.” I showed a picture of the two of us having coffee. Murmurs rippled through the crowd. If I had slept with the man, the last thing I’d do is befriend his wife. I pulled up the security footage from the conference room. “And as for what happened with our former manager, I have no idea why he was so convinced I was doing something sordid. I had a full medical examination at the hospital. He was fabricating everything. In fact, he formally apologized and admitted he was influenced by… my sister’s thoughts.” I stared directly at Molly. She froze, a deer in the headlights, squirming in her seat. Just as she was about to burst with a panicked explanation, I smiled. “But hearing people’s thoughts? That’s something out of a fantasy novel, isn’t it? It couldn’t possibly happen in real life.” I turned to the VP. “Mark must have been having a psychotic break. Wouldn’t you agree, Mrs. Grant?” Eleanor’s eyes were glued to the screen. She slowly nodded. Many of the people present had been at that meeting; they knew the truth. Now, the way they looked at Molly was different. Molly’s face went white. She lowered her head, but her inner voice was frantic. What is Vivian talking about? How could anyone hear what I’m thinking? Ugh—It doesn’t matter. No matter how much fake evidence she shows, she can’t fake what’s on her own body. If someone just ripped open her shirt, they’d see it all. The marks from all the men who’ve ‘loved’ her. Bruises everywhere, purplish and blue. Even rope marks… she’s into some really kinky stuff. I can barely stand to look at it… Eleanor’s sharp eyes darted to my partially open collar. A flicker of something. A hint of red on my collarbone. That was all it took. Her rage returned, white-hot and absolute. All semblance of corporate decorum vanished. She charged at me, her hands a blur. Two sharp slaps cracked across my face, making my head ring and stars burst behind my eyes. The room erupted. My colleagues were spectators at a circus, whispering and pointing. I was a shameless harlot getting what I deserved. In another time, they’d have drowned me in a pig cage. Below the stage, Molly watched me with a smug, triumphant smirk. You’re finished, sister. Eleanor’s eyes were blazing. With a final, furious cry, she grabbed the front of my thin blouse and ripped it open. Shh-rrrriiip! The fabric gave way, and the angry red marks and deep purple bruises covering my chest and shoulders were suddenly exposed for all to see. “Vivian, I didn’t know you had a boyfriend! Where did all those marks come from?!” Molly gasped, clapping a hand over her mouth in mock horror. The performance was flawless, the final nail in my coffin. Splat. A rotten egg hit my forehead, dripping yolk into my eyes. Then came crumpled napkins, leftover food, anything people could grab. I was being buried in garbage, the homewrecker, the slut. Just as the refuse was about to swallow me whole, the main doors of the banquet hall burst open. A smile finally spread across my lips. The person I’d been waiting for had arrived. “Everyone stop! I want to see who dares to harm this company’s greatest asset!”

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At my childhood friend’s wedding, just as the bride and groom were about to exchange rings, the bride suddenly snatched the microphone and turned to look directly at me. In an instant, a single, blinding spotlight swung from the altar and pinned me in my seat. Every head in the chapel turned. With all eyes on her, the bride, Sophia, walked slowly down the aisle until she stood before me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and with a choked sob, she thrust her bouquet into my hands. “Amelia, please. I’m begging you.” “Ethan and I are married now. Please, have some sense of decency. Stop using the ‘just friends’ excuse to be so intimate with my husband, regardless of the time or place.” 1 A collective gasp swept through the guests. Those who didn’t know the situation were already shooting me looks of pure contempt. In the distance, I saw my mother’s face fall, her expression hardening like stone. Ethan’s face was even uglier than mine. He lunged forward, his brow furrowed as he tried to grab Sophia’s arm. “Sophia, are you insane? This is our wedding! What the hell are you doing?” She violently shook him off. The screech of microphone feedback pierced the air. Tears streaming down her face, she pulled out her phone. The screen showed Ethan’s social media profile. The background picture was their engagement photo. But the latest post was a picture of Ethan’s forearm, marked with a faint, old bite mark. The caption was what made it damning. “Getting married tomorrow, but I can’t forget you, or the mark you left on me.” “Look, everyone!” Sophia’s voice was a raw scream. “I’ve tolerated you being close with Amelia all this time!” “But to post this, right before our wedding, and set the privacy so only she could see it! Ethan, you tell me, what is this supposed to mean?” The color drained from Ethan’s face. Sophia shot me a cold, triumphant smirk. “Amelia! Since you need him so much, and since he’s so clearly obsessed with you, why didn’t you two just get together? Why keep that intimate bite mark as some kind of secret trophy? Are you both just playing me for a fool?” The stares of the guests felt like a thousand needles pricking my skin. I stood frozen, not out of shock, but out of sheer, dumbfounded exasperation. Me? Need Ethan? When have I ever needed Ethan? And that bite mark… what a joke. Until this very moment, I had always considered it a symbol of our mutual hatred. Ethan’s family and mine were next-door neighbors. Our mothers were best friends. By all accounts, we should have gotten along. But from the moment we could walk, he made it his mission to torment me. Tearing the ribbons from my hair and smearing mud on my dresses were his tamer tricks. The worst was when he threw my kitten into the deep end of his family’s pool and physically blocked me from getting help. I was so frantic, so utterly helpless, that I bit his arm with all the strength my small body could muster. That was over a decade ago. The fact that the scar is still visible is a testament to how viciously I bit him. It was also the day I started taking Muay Thai classes. After that, our dynamic shifted. I was the one pinning him to the ground until he finally learned to leave me alone. I’ve despised him my entire life. If it weren’t for our families’ history and the fact that his mother has always been kind to me, I wouldn’t have even shown up to this sham of a wedding. As for his social media post… Good lord. I had no idea. He’d always had a flair for overly dramatic, emo nonsense that polluted my timeline. I found it so annoying that I’d muted his profile years ago. With that thought, I opened my phone, navigated to my chat with Ethan, and turned the screen toward Sophia. The setting was clearly displayed: “Mute this person’s posts and stories.” Even our chat history was on silent mode. I scrolled through it. Aside from the occasional spammy link he’d sent, the most recent message was from last week—an invitation to his wedding. I hadn’t even bothered to reply. It was a pointless invitation. Given our families, my mother would have dragged me here by my hair if I’d refused. I took a deep, steadying breath. “I have no idea what kind of misunderstanding you two are having, but don’t you dare drag me into your mess to play the villain.” I shot a glare at Ethan, my jaw tight. “And for the record, that pathetic bite mark is from when he pushed me too far and I snapped! I wasn’t even in elementary school! God only knows why he’d post something so twisted about it.” Ethan, who had been trying to placate Sophia, froze. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a wounded, disbelieving expression. 2 Sophia’s hand, still holding the phone, hung in the air. A flash of surprise crossed her face, but she quickly doubled down, biting her lip. “But you can’t deny the inappropriate intimacy between you two!” “You spend all your time with a bunch of guys, acting like you’re one of them, but it’s all just a cover to stay attached to Ethan! There’s a limit to playing the ‘cool girl,’ Amelia! You have a fiancé, yet you’re still stringing my husband along. Have you no shame?” I let out a humorless laugh and looked at Ethan, who was now pretending to be part of the scenery. Just then, my friend Jake’s girlfriend, Chloe, spoke up with blunt honesty. “Sophia, are you sure you’re not mistaken? I’ve never seen Amelia act out of line.” Sophia faltered, turning her attack to Leo’s wife, Sarah. Sarah just smiled. “Sophia, you really have it all wrong. We’re all friends with Amelia because she’s a genuinely good person. She rarely organizes get-togethers; we’re always the ones begging her to come out.” “The building materials supplier my husband’s company needed? The design team for Jake’s new restaurant? The insider discount on Mark’s new car? That was all Amelia. She made those connections for us.” Leo tried to quiet his wife, but Sarah shot him a look that silenced him instantly. She glanced at Ethan, whose face was growing darker by the second, and added with a sly smile, “Amelia is the reason our group exists. Ethan has nothing to do with it. He only started hanging out with us because he’s her neighbor. We only put up with him for Amelia’s sake.” I silently gave Sarah a mental high-five. The truth was simple. We live in a small city. The business circle is tight. Our crew was solid, but the cornerstone, the one holding it all together, had always been me. My family made its fortune in renewable energy a few years back. I then started my own consulting firm and opened an exclusive bar, accumulating a network of high-profile clients. I became friends with Jake and Leo because our fathers knew each other, and we helped each other’s businesses grow. Ethan’s family ran a small construction supply business that had been failing for years; they were on the verge of bankruptcy. My mother, out of pity, had my father throw them a few contracts to stay afloat and insisted I include Ethan in my social circle. I was against it. I hold a grudge, and I’ve never forgotten the way he treated me as a child. But my mom’s relentless nagging wore me down, and I reluctantly let him tag along. I fixed my gaze on him. “What exactly were you trying to achieve with that post?” Ethan’s face turned the color of raw liver. His lips moved, but no words came out. Sophia’s expression soured, but she wasn’t ready to give up. “You’ve all been fooled by her! She’s just pretending to be above it all, showing off how successful she is to seduce men!” I frowned, my patience finally gone. It was her wedding day. I had been willing to let it slide, to endure the humiliation for the sake of peace. But she was pushing it, determined to smear my name. “Sophia, you need evidence to make accusations like that,” I said, my voice turning icy. “You’ve seen my chat history with Ethan. What more do you want?” She sneered. “If there’s nothing between you, why did he pour so much money into your bar? It’s a members-only club with a ridiculously high barrier to entry. As a woman running a place like that, you must have your methods for keeping wealthy clients around. Ethan recently dropped fifty grand on a membership. Are you going to tell me that’s not suspicious?” The venue fell silent. My mother, pale with rage, rushed to my side. “You say that one more time.” I gently pushed my mom back into her seat and stepped toward Sophia. “First of all, Ethan spending money at my bar is a normal business transaction. I didn’t force him.” 3 “And don’t you worry. I’ll have my manager refund every penny he hasn’t spent and post a notice at the entrance permanently banning him from the premises.” What a joke. My bar is a top-tier establishment that would hold its own in any major city. The renovations alone cost millions. My clientele consists of the city’s wealthiest and most influential people. Did she really think I needed Ethan’s chump change? Sophia froze, clearly not expecting me to be so decisive. “Even so, you can’t deny that you call him in the middle of the night! Why does he always rush out to meet you at ungodly hours?” “Last Wednesday, at two in the morning, he told me there was an emergency at your bar and ran out in his pajamas! Are you going to deny that you called him?” Her words even stunned me. I would never, ever contact Ethan. Besides, last Wednesday, my fiancé and I were on vacation out of state. As I was about to refute her, I caught a glimpse of panic in Ethan’s eyes. “Sophia, stop it! It’s all a misunderstanding! We can talk about this at home. Today is our wedding…” She ripped her arm from his grasp. “You need to tell me the truth right now! Is she the only one you love? Did you ever even want to marry me?” “Yes! I didn’t want to marry you!” Ethan suddenly roared, his composure shattering. He glanced at me, a wild, cornered look in his eyes. Sophia stared at him, her face a mask of disbelief. In the next second, all the color drained from her cheeks. “My stomach… it hurts…” Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed in a dead faint. The scene erupted into chaos. Ethan, terrified, scooped her up and ran for the exit. My mother watched the pandemonium, her voice laced with worry. “Amelia, maybe we should go to the hospital, just to check…” I hesitated for a moment, then nodded, and we followed the ambulance. Outside the emergency room, Ethan was crouched against a wall, his face ashen. My mom tried to offer a few words of comfort to his mother, Wanda, but was met with a cold shoulder. My mom’s expression darkened, but before she could speak, the ER doors opened. A doctor emerged. “The patient is stable. The emotional distress caused a threatened miscarriage. She’ll need to be admitted for observation to ensure the pregnancy is safe.” Wanda’s face lit up with manic joy. She grilled the doctor, and after confirming Sophia was pregnant, she whirled on me, her eyes blazing with resentment. “Are you satisfied now, Amelia? If you hadn’t started a fight with Sophia at her own wedding, would she have almost lost my grandchild? You have a fiancé of your own, so why can’t you just leave my son alone?” She grew more agitated with every word. “Sophia was right! People need boundaries! If you don’t like my son, then stay away from him! Stop pretending to be his buddy while secretly seducing him, keeping one man on the hook while you look for another! You may have no shame, but we do!” “What nonsense are you spouting?” My mother stood up, her face a mixture of anger and disappointment. “Wanda, if I hadn’t convinced my husband to give your family business, you would have gone bankrupt years ago! And this is how you repay us? By slandering my daughter?” Wanda flinched, then changed her tone. “Amelia, dear, please. I’m begging you. You know my son’s… condition. The doctors all said it would be nearly impossible for him to have children. Now that Sophia is finally pregnant, that baby is our family’s lifeline! Just stay away from Ethan from now on, please!” “Mom! Stop it!” Ethan hissed, his face burning with humiliation at having his infertility broadcasted to the world. I scoffed and sent a quick text to my assistant, telling her to dig up Ethan’s recent movements and social media activity. I hadn’t called him in the middle of the night. Someone else had. And I wasn’t about to take the fall for it. 4 Just as I sent the message, Ethan approached me, hesitating. “Amelia, I know you’re innocent in all this, but… I’m finally going to be a father. This is so important to our family. For the sake of our childhood friendship, can you please just let this go? Don’t push her any further.” I rolled my eyes. “You should be thinking about what you did to make your wife so insecure in the first place.” He opened his mouth to say more, but was cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. I turned. It was my fiancé, Liam. For once, his calm demeanor was replaced by a hint of urgency. “I’m sorry I’m late.” He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, clearly having come straight from the office. His handsome face was cold as he came to my side, his gaze sharp and commanding. “I’d appreciate it if certain people would conduct themselves with a little more dignity and stay away from my fiancée,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “And stop trying to blame her for your own messes.” Ethan flinched under Liam’s glare, a flicker of jealousy and fear in his eyes. After a tense moment, he turned and scurried back toward the ER. Liam watched him go, then gently smoothed my hair back, his tone softening. “Come on. I’m taking you and your mom home.” It was dark by the time we got back. I had just slipped off my shoes when my phone began buzzing relentlessly. It was my assistant. As I looked at the photos she sent, my eyes narrowed. So that’s why Sophia was so convinced I was the other woman. It was because… Before I could finish reading, a notification popped up on my screen. A trending local news post. “Boycott Local Socialite: Juggling Two Men and a Messy Private Life.” Someone had edited clips from the wedding, cutting out all context, making me look like the villain. The comment section was a cesspool of people calling me a manipulative “cool girl.” Thanks to the algorithm, I didn’t even have to search. A local livestream recommendation appeared. It was Sophia, broadcasting from her hospital bed. The title read: “The Price of Marrying a ‘Devoted’ Man: My Husband’s Affair with His ‘Best Friend’.” I clicked. She was propped up against the pillows, pale and red-eyed, weeping for the camera. “I’m pregnant with twins, and he’s still messing around with another woman. A woman who has her own fiancé but insists on calling my husband in the middle of the night…” The comments were a flood of sympathy. “I’m so sorry, sweetie!” “Girls like that are the absolute worst!” “I heard her family is like local royalty. They’re in business, and she owns some shady bar. What kind of decent woman runs a bar?” I laughed out loud at the absurdity. My mom saw it too, her hands trembling with rage. Liam wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Don’t let them get to you.” I smirked. “Oh, I’m not angry. I should be thanking them for all this free publicity.” My company was about to launch a new product line. Free press is free press. Half an hour later, I started a livestream from my own account. As soon as I went live, a flood of viewers poured in—half to curse me out, half to watch the drama unfold. I sat in front of the camera with a calm smile. A moment later, a request to co-stream popped up. It was Sophia. I accepted immediately. Her pale, tear-streaked face appeared on the screen. “You really have no shame, do you? Broadcasting after all this,” she sneered. I raised an eyebrow and held up my phone. “I’d invite everyone to take a look at the new video I just posted on my account.” In the next second, the comment feed exploded.

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I was at the hospital with my mother-in-law for a check-up when a frantic woman charged out of nowhere and stabbed her eighteen times. Every blow was lethal. Blood pooled on the floor, a gruesome tide, and she was dead before the paramedics arrived. Staring at her mutilated body in the morgue, my vision turned red with hatred. I swore I would make the killer pay in blood. But when I had gathered the evidence and the case went to trial, my husband, who was supposed to be on a business trip abroad, appeared in the courtroom—as a witness for the defense. A psychiatric evaluation, personally signed by my husband, Justin Bright, became the key piece of evidence. The murderer, Vivienne, was acquitted. “Luna, your mother-in-law was sixty. She lived a full life,” Justin said, his tone dismissive as he slid a blank check across the table. “Vivienne is only twenty-four. We can’t let one little mistake ruin her entire future.” “Name your price. How much will it take for you to sign the pardon?” I snatched the check from his hand and ripped it to shreds, my eyes burning. “Justin, that was your mother!” 1 Justin’s brow furrowed. He picked up his coffee cup. A searing, hot liquid cascaded down my head and neck as Vivienne, the woman beside him, emptied the cup onto me before smashing it on the table. “His mother is enjoying the sunshine in France, darling,” Vivienne sneered, her voice dripping with venom. “You should really think before you speak. Besides, even if I did touch Justin’s precious mother, he would only ever help me…” CRACK! I didn’t let her finish. My hand flew across the space between us, the slap echoing in the quiet café. Justin shot to his feet, his eyes like chips of ice. “Luna, don’t push it.” He moved to shield her without a moment’s hesitation, his gaze completely ignoring the angry, red blotches blooming on my skin from the burn. I tried to match his cold composure, but my fingers trembled as I spoke. “Justin, don’t you dare forget how the Bright family got back on its feet!” His expression froze. He grabbed Vivienne’s arm just as she was about to smash a wine bottle over my head. She wrenched free and brought the bottle down on his skull instead. “Justin, you bastard! You’re defending your wife?” she shrieked. “I was wrong about you! Go to hell!” The bottle shattered. He calmly brushed the glass from his hair, his hand gently circling her wrist to soothe her. Then, his cold eyes found mine again. “I’m giving you one last chance to reconsider.” His assistant immediately held a phone in front of my face. The screen showed my father, alive only thanks to a rare experimental drug, lying in a hospital bed. A man’s hand held the bottle of life-saving pills over a drain. He tipped the bottle. A few precious pills tumbled into the darkness. “Sign the pardon, or decide how many more days you want your father to live. Your choice.” The blood in my veins turned to ice. I tried to stand, but Justin’s hand clamped down on my shoulder, forcing me back into the chair. “Luna, are you really going to sacrifice your living father for a dead woman?” His words were like shards of glass, tearing me apart. Years ago, because of his and Vivienne’s reckless behavior, the Bright family had been targeted by a dozen rival companies. He was kidnapped. When the Bright family was powerless, it was his grandfather who came to my family, begging for help. My father, unable to stand by while his old friend’s son was in mortal danger, offered himself as a replacement hostage. He was shot by the captors, the bullet severing nerves and leaving him permanently disabled. To repay that debt, Justin, a brilliant biochemist, had personally developed the drug that kept my father alive. I remembered him kneeling by my father’s bedside, his hand gripping mine as he made a solemn vow. “I, Justin Bright, will love and protect Luna for the rest of my life.” Three years into our marriage, he had broken that promise. The day Vivienne returned from abroad and smashed the windshield of his car in a fit of rage, all his love and protection for me vanished. I trembled, my lips quivering as I stared at him. “Justin, do you remember that my father is like this because of you?” He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “Vivienne is practically your sister. There’s no need to be so vicious.” “Sign it. You and your father will be fine. Besides, your mother was over sixty. The maximum compensation you could get in court is less than a million. I’m letting you name your own price. You’re coming out ahead here.” The air was punched from my lungs. “It doesn’t matter whose mother she was! She gave birth to us, raised us! Is a bit of money supposed to make it okay to let her killer walk free while she can’t rest in peace?” “Just take the damn money,” Vivienne drawled, leaning against Justin and shooting me a malicious glare, utterly devoid of remorse. “This is the most cash a poor bitch like you will ever see in your life, unless another one of your relatives dies.” It was as if she hadn’t killed a human being, but had merely squashed an ant. Before the entire Bright clan had pressured me into this marriage, I had heard stories about Vivienne. She was Justin’s childhood friend, his rabid shadow. In the five years before our wedding, their relationship was a storm of pure, destructive obsession. He once chopped off her boyfriend’s fingers and sent them to her as a birthday gift. She retaliated by gouging out the eyes of a woman who got too close to him and presenting them as a New Year’s present. Other people’s lives were just stepping stones for their twisted love affair. Their families cleaned up one mess after another, a cycle of violence that had driven Justin’s own grandfather to a stress-induced stroke. I used to find the stories hard to believe. Now, I was trembling with the reality of it. “Justin, that was your mother’s life. A living, breathing person.” “Her body is still in the morgue. You can go see for yourself!” 2 Vivienne snorted, flicking her hair. “Why would I want to look at a dead body? Don’t try to stall, waiting for those old Bright sycophants to come and save you. They all died abroad yesterday trying to find some miracle cure for the old man.” Her words were disgusting, but Justin didn’t even flinch. He showed none of the cold fury he reserved for me when I stepped out of line. Instead, he just tapped the table and pushed the pardon toward me. “Sign it first, talk later. Otherwise, your father won’t live to see tomorrow.” On the phone screen, more pills disappeared down the drain. If this continued, my father wouldn’t last until the next batch of medication could be synthesized. My heart felt like it was being pierced by a dozen needles. The document in front of me was already signed by Justin. He didn’t care about the truth; he only cared about exonerating Vivienne. I forced the air back into my lungs, my voice laced with the bitter taste of disappointment as I signed my name. “Justin, I hope you don’t regret this.” “There, see? I knew you’d be reasonable.” A rare smile touched his cold lips as he snatched the document from my hand. “Tell my assistant whatever you want. He’ll buy it for you.” I laughed, a hollow, mocking sound. As if I wanted his money. Ever since Vivienne returned, I was nothing more than a gold digger in his eyes. He threw money at me to solve every problem, but for Vivienne, he gave his time, his resources, his loyalty—even his life. Now, with two lives on the line, his favoritism was sickeningly blatant. The thought of divorce, once a fleeting idea, now became a burning certainty. “Justin, you can come with me to the morgue now—” “The morgue? Are you trying to jinx me?” Vivienne cut in. “I was just wrongfully accused in court. The last thing I need is the bad luck of a morgue. It’ll ruin my whole year.” She turned to Justin, a challenging glint in her eye. “How about a race to celebrate my new lease on life? You and me?” Justin tucked the signed pardon into his jacket and raised an eyebrow. “For you? Anytime.” He turned to leave, tossing a final, careless sentence over his shoulder. “I’m busy today. You handle the funeral. Tell my assistant if you need anything. I’ll stop by on the anniversary if I have time.” He was always busy after Vivienne came back. Too busy to remember my birthday, our wedding anniversary, even the anniversary of our child’s death. And now, he was busy enough to go racing with the woman who stabbed his mother eighteen times, but not busy enough to see his mother one last time? I stood frozen, the world tilting on its axis. With the heads of the Bright family gone, it fell to me to handle the arrangements. At the morgue, the body was a mangled ruin of flesh and bone, barely human. The tears I had held back for so long finally fell. I remembered hearing how my mother-in-law had almost died giving birth to Justin, how she had screamed at the doctors to save the baby, not her. Now, she was a butchered corpse, and her son wouldn’t even look at her. “Prepare the casket. We’ll take her home,” I told the assistant. “And notify the rest of the Bright family abroad. Tell them to come home to pay their last respects.” The wake was set up quickly in the main hall. A photo of my mother-in-law, her expression kind and gentle, sat on the altar. Just then, my phone buzzed with a priority notification. It was a new, pinned post from Justin. He had ignored the message I’d sent him five hours ago, but he’d had time to post this: a video of Vivienne, behind the wheel of a five-million-dollar McLaren he’d bought her, winning a race. On the podium, she grabbed his tie and pulled him into a ferocious kiss. The look on his face—breathless, passionate, utterly consumed—was something I had never seen before. The crowd around them roared with approval. The caption read: To my rose’s new beginning. Washing away the bad luck! The words stabbed at my eyes. I unpinned his contact from my favorites and sent another message. Justin, the very least you could do is come home and see your mother one last time. The earliest the other family members could arrive was tomorrow morning. I couldn’t be the only one to sit vigil on the first night. Instead of a text back, I got a call. It was Vivienne. “Will you ever give it a rest?” she snarled. “Your mother-in-law is dead. Get over it and stop ruining our good time!” “Let me speak to Justin,” I said, my voice flat. “Or I will keep calling.” “Fuck, you persistent bitch! Hey, Bright! Your scheming, pathetic wife is on the phone again. Get rid of her!” A moment later, Justin’s irritated voice came through the line. “Luna, my mother is perfectly fine. Stop trying to curse her!” I sent him a photo of the funeral hall and spoke calmly. “The family’s oldest servants prepared this wake. Do you really think they’re blind enough to mistake my mother for yours?” 3 There was a silence on his end, broken by Vivienne’s sharp laughter. “Hahaha, is that the best fake picture you could come up with? His mom literally just sent me a voice message. As much as I might hate you, I would never hurt Justin’s family.” My mother-in-law’s familiar voice played through the speaker. I froze. Vivienne’s voice, dripping with scorn, followed. “What’s the matter? Feeling lonely, you pathetic housewife? Is this the only trick you have to get your man to come home? If you’re that desperate, I can send a few homeless guys over to keep you company.” Justin’s voice was tight with anger when he spoke again. “Luna, you are exhausting. This is what I can’t stand about you. You’re not daring and passionate like Vivienne. You’re not honest about what you want. You’re just… scheming and disgusting.” My hand clenched into a fist. After the accident that had nearly destroyed his family, when Justin Bright had gone from a golden boy to a disgraced drunk, it was me. I was the one who went to my grandfather and begged for the capital to rebuild. I was the one who pulled him out of his alcohol-soaked despair, who stayed up with him through endless nights as we hustled for clients and rebuilt his empire from nothing. Back then, he would hold me tight in the hours before dawn and whisper, “Luna, I can’t live without you.” And now… “Try to be more like Vivienne,” he spat. “Carefree, liberated. Stop being so damn suffocating.” My nails dug into my palms. My heart felt like it had been plunged into ice water. “This is the last time I will ever call you,” I said, my voice dead. “If you don’t come back, don’t you dare regret it later.” Then I hung up. At two in the morning, after kneeling at the wake for four hours, I finally heard the sound of a car pulling up. For a foolish moment, I thought his conscience had finally kicked in. But the person who strode in was Vivienne. “Who let her in here?” I shot to my feet, my voice a sharp command to the household staff. “Don’t you know she’s the murderer?” The servants trembled, their heads bowed. “She has Mr. Bright’s security clearance, ma’am. We had no choice.” Vivienne smirked. She kicked over the incense burner on the altar, smashed the framed photograph on the table, and ground the shards under her heel. “Why so surprised? You only became Mrs. Bright because I allowed it. Now get on your knees and thank me.” I didn’t move. I dialed the emergency number, but before I could connect, Justin rushed in, his head bandaged, and knocked the phone from my hand. “That’s enough. It’s a small matter, no need to involve the police. We can just set it up again. It’s not like the body is going anywhere.” The moment he finished speaking, Vivienne threw open the lid of the casket. She emptied a bucket of reeking, dark liquid—black dog’s blood mixed with urine—all over the corpse. The foul stench filled the hall. My mother-in-law, a woman who prized cleanliness above all else, was being desecrated in her own coffin. I lunged forward, but Justin’s grip on my wrist was like iron, nearly snapping the bone. “Justin, that is your MOTHER!” I shrieked, my voice raw, but he held me fast. “Vivienne went a little too far, I admit,” he said calmly. “But you faked my mother’s death photo. We’ll call it even.” Ptuh. Vivienne spat directly into the coffin, then turned and slapped me across the face. The force sent me stumbling to the floor, the taste of blood filling my mouth. “That’s for what you owe me. Don’t mess with me, or I’ll kill you next.” She raised her hand to strike me again, but Justin caught her wrist, his brow furrowed. “That’s enough. You’ll hurt your hand.” Vivienne spat in my direction one more time. “You’re lucky Justin’s gotten soft these last three years. Otherwise, I’d have your dying father chopped into pieces and fed to the dogs.” “Alright, alright,” Justin said, his tone one of weary indulgence. “I came back as soon as you called, didn’t I? You crashed my car, you trashed this place. Isn’t that enough to make you feel better?” He stood there, his shoes trampling the shattered remains of his own mother’s portrait, placating the woman who had defiled her corpse. Feel better? The memorial tablet was being scrawled with obscenities. The kind face in the portrait was shattered and smeared with filth. His mother’s body was covered in spit and reeking liquid. And this was all just to appease Vivienne’s temper? My throat felt like it was stuffed with wet cotton. “Justin, if you would just look at the hand on the corpse, you would know it’s not my mother!” He paused, his gaze finally shifting toward the open casket. 4 On the corpse’s finger was the Oppenheimer Blue, a one-of-a-kind diamond ring her late husband had given her. Vivienne’s eyes followed his. A flicker of greed crossed her face, and she shot me a venomous glare. “Aha! I knew it! I told you that you and your mother were nothing but common thieves! You took advantage of your mother-in-law’s absence to steal her ring and put it on a dead body!” Before anyone could react, she reached into the coffin, brutally snapped the dead finger off at the knuckle, and wrenched the ring free, clutching it in her fist. She looked down at Justin with a mocking sneer. “You’ve really lowered your standards, Justin. Marrying a gold-digging thief with sticky fingers. I’ll hold onto this for you, before she pawns it.” Justin, who had been about to look closer, turned his suspicious gaze back to me. “I always suspected your father had an ulterior motive when he saved me. It’s only been a few years, and your family is already showing its true colors. I’m glad I listened to Vivienne and didn’t let you keep that child.” I was being helped to my feet by a maid, but his words froze me solid. I stared at him, my body turning to wood. “Justin… what did you just say?” Vivienne cackled, pointing a finger at me. “What did he say? He’s talking about your dead baby! You thought you could trap him, use a child to swallow the Bright family fortune whole, didn’t you? You already have so much company stock, you greedy bitch.” A gaping wound opened in my chest. Her voice was a relentless drone in my ears. “So, we arranged a little ‘car accident’ for you. Hahaha, you idiot, did you really think he was sending someone to save you? He couldn’t wait for that baby to die!” The room went black. As I collapsed, my mind went completely blank. Justin frowned and hauled me to my feet. “It was my child, too. If you weren’t so manipulative…” CRACK! I slapped him again, my vision swimming in red. “And you knew it was your child?” He turned his head slightly, his jaw tight, his expression cold. “When you learn to behave, we can have another.” Vivienne, who had been laughing, froze. A toxic, resentful look flashed in her eyes. “There won’t be a next time, Justin,” I said, my voice hollow. “You don’t deserve one.” I pulled free from his suddenly tight grip and knelt, mechanically gathering the broken pieces of the portrait. Justin stood over me, looking like he wanted to say something. Suddenly, the doors were kicked open. A group of grim-faced, middle-aged men holding knives stormed in. Justin went pale. He immediately shoved Vivienne behind him, leaving me completely exposed, a blade instantly pressed against my throat. The man in the lead had dark, menacing eyes. “Justin Bright. Is this Vivienne?” “What do you want?” Justin demanded. The man gave a chilling, humorless smile. “My daughter was kind enough to give you directions once. For that, Vivienne had a dozen men rape her! My little girl… she wasn’t even eighteen! They left her to die next to a dumpster!” He slammed his knife into the altar table. The other men closed in on me and Vivienne, their hands reaching for our clothes. “I’m only here for revenge, not to harm the innocent,” the man said, turning on a camera. “Take your wife and get out.” “Honey, save me!” Vivienne shrieked. Justin hesitated for a second, then walked toward me. To my utter shock, he leaned in and whispered an apology in my ear. “Luna, look, you’ve been pregnant before, you’ve had a miscarriage. Your body can handle it. But Vivienne is different. I have to protect her. Just be understanding. I’ll make it up to you later.” With that, he slapped me hard across the face and shoved me into the arms of the waiting men. He turned, wrapping his arms around a trembling Vivienne, and yelled at me with righteous fury. “You did this! You did all those terrible things, and you deserve to have your mother-in-law die and her funeral desecrated!” Vivienne clung to him, a picture of terrified innocence, but the look she gave me over his shoulder was one of pure, ecstatic triumph. “That’s right,” she purred. “Maybe with all these men, you’ll finally stop lusting after my husband.” Seeing the men hesitate, Justin roared, “What are you waiting for? Get on with it! Look at her, she’s obviously been through a few pregnancies. My Vivienne would never be so promiscuous!” I clutched the sharp shards of the portrait in my fist, my heart turning to absolute stone. CRASH! Before the men could touch me, the doors burst open again. A flood of security guards poured in. One of them grabbed Justin by the hair, forced him to his knees, and delivered a brutal slap across his face. Justin was stunned. He looked up, his eyes blazing with fury, ready to retaliate—but when he saw the face of the man standing before him, his pupils shrank to pinpricks. “You!”

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After I called off my engagement to Max, we ran into each other in the maternity ward of the hospital. He was holding hands with his first love, Ava, their fingers intertwined, their every move an intimate dance. When Ava saw the pregnancy report in my hand, her eyes instantly welled with tears. Max’s brow furrowed, his expression cold as ice. “Deal with it. Don’t make a scene.” I shot him a chilling glance. “It’s not yours.” Later, his voice was tight with desperation, “Even if it’s not mine, I’ll claim it.” But then he saw Teddy, wrapped in a towel with his sculpted torso on full display, strolling out of the bathroom. “Well, Max,” Teddy drawled, “Trying to steal my wife and my kid? You really are ambitious, aren’t you?” 1 The text from Max canceling our engagement arrived while I was at the hotel, finalizing the layout and details with the wedding planner. “Ava’s back. The engagement is off.” I stared at the screen, the air knocked from my lungs. I was frozen in place. The planner was still talking right next to me, but his voice was a muffled drone. I couldn’t make out a single word. “And then what?” I typed, my hands trembling. Max’s reply was instant, devoid of any hesitation. “She’s been diagnosed with severe depression. She’s back in the country for treatment and can’t handle any stress.” I remembered the taunting message Ava had sent me just last night. “As long as I want him, you two will never get married.” I had thought, with both our families and all our friends already notified, that Max wouldn’t indulge her games this time. But I had underestimated how much she meant to him. Swallowing my rage, my fingers flew across the screen. “So when she’s cured, we can get engaged then?” I had no intention of arguing with him about whether Ava was truly sick. Even if I exposed her lies, Max would just see it as me being unreasonable. He didn’t reply. My message vanished into a digital abyss. A wave of icy dread washed over me, starting from my toes and creeping to my fingertips, as if I’d been doused with freezing water in the dead of winter. He always did this—ran from our problems. In his mind, I’d cool down and come back to him eventually. But this time, I was just… tired. I had no fight left in me to compete with Ava for his love, no energy left to wait for another empty apology and another broken promise. I called off the hotel staff and paid the cancellation fee. Then, I sent Max one last message. “We’ll notify our own friends and family.” His reply was brutally simple: “Okay.” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I deleted him from my contacts. 2 My seven years with Max had been a roller coaster of breaking up and getting back together. And every single time, it was because of Ava. He loved her but couldn’t marry her. He didn’t love me, but I was the one he was supposed to marry. Max’s mother had once told me, quite bluntly, that she wasn’t looking down on my family’s fallen fortune. She had pushed for this engagement under immense pressure because she thought I was beautiful enough, and that the history we shared as childhood sweethearts was strong enough. She hoped I could be the one to finally tie Max down and drive away the delusional woman hovering around him. I used to believe that if I just tried hard enough, if I just stayed by his side, one day he would finally see me. But that day never came. My love for him had been worn down, piece by piece, until nothing was left. When I got back to our house to pack, Max still wasn’t home. He was at a restaurant, having dinner with Ava. She’d posted a picture on her Instagram. Max’s face wasn’t in it, but the ring on his hand was unmistakable. It was one of the engagement rings we had picked out together. I slipped my own ring off and placed it on the dining table. But then I reconsidered. Why bother trying to get his attention? I picked up the ring, walked to the bathroom, and flushed it down the toilet without a second thought. I was dragging my suitcase to the front door when Max walked in, carrying Ava in his arms. “Long time no see,” I said breezily, nodding at Ava. Ava looked startled, glancing at Max, completely at a loss. I suppose she was used to me turning into a screaming wreck after a few of her provocations. My current state of calm seemed to have thrown her off completely. Max’s gaze landed on the suitcase in my hand. His surprise was fleeting, his expression quickly returning to its usual indifference. “This is for the best,” he said. “You moving out for a while will be better for Ava’s recovery.” Asking his fiancée to move out of their home so his first love could recuperate there. He said it so shamelessly, so matter-of-factly. And I had loved this piece of trash for seven years… I was done playing games. I pulled my suitcase and walked out without looking back. As I walked away, I heard him say, “Don’t worry about her. She always comes crawling back.” Ava’s voice was a sweet pout. “You’re not even going to comfort me when I’m upset?” “How could I ever bear to make you upset?” I fought the bile rising in my throat and walked faster. 3 I moved back into the apartment I’d bought myself. It was situated above a bustling commercial district. I liked the noise, the energy, the feeling of life. Max preferred quiet. He hated this apartment. And he especially hated my neighbor, Teddy. Another golden boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth, just like him. Max despised Teddy. I think it was because he was jealous of Teddy’s courage to fight for love, a courage Max himself lacked. Teddy had the guts to break with his family over a woman; Max didn’t. And Teddy was far more reckless than Max ever could be. The woman Teddy wanted to marry was a B-list actress, plagued by scandals from the moment she entered the industry. His family would never allow an actress, a “performer,” to marry their heir. So Teddy simply walked away, ready to build his own empire rather than compromise. Compared to Max, who wanted to have his cake and eat it too, I genuinely admired Teddy’s unwavering devotion. The night I moved in, Max did something he never did: he called me. “I’m worried Ava will get upset if she sees the things you left behind,” he said, his tone still dripping with that condescending generosity. “Where are you now? I’ll have them sent over.” I didn’t stop folding my clothes, just cradled the phone between my shoulder and ear. “Just toss them,” I said nonchalantly. “It’s all stuff I don’t need anymore.” Silence on the other end, punctuated only by the sound of his heavy breathing. A moment later, his voice was tight with anger. “Cara! What the hell is your problem?” “The engagement is only postponed. Once Ava is stable…” I cut him off, unable to listen anymore. “Sorry, Mr. Cole, I’m really busy right now.” I hung up and blocked his number. Stepping out onto the balcony, I let the night breeze wash over me, gazing at the glittering city lights. Leaving Max was easier than I ever imagined. A soft, rhythmic sound from below broke the quiet. I instinctively leaned over the railing to look. The balcony below was lush with plants. Through the leaves, I could just make out a pair of pale hands gripping the railing, and the top of a bobbing head. Well now. That was Teddy’s apartment, where he lived with the actress. Those two certainly knew how to have fun. Not wanting to pry, I went back inside to finish unpacking. Suddenly, there was a knock on my door. When I opened it and saw who was standing there, my brain short-circuited for a second. If Teddy was here… Then who was that downstairs?! 4 A flicker of surprise crossed Teddy’s eyes as well. “Sorry, wrong door,” he said, turning to leave. “I just moved in today,” I called after him. “Want to come in for a drink?” I don’t know why I said it. Maybe I felt a bit sorry for him. A fellow member of the recently-cheated-on club. Teddy turned back, an eyebrow arched. “Oh? So we don’t have to keep our distance anymore?” Max hated Teddy, which meant he hated me having any contact with him. Even though Teddy was the primary investor in my chain of flower shops, we barely ever met, save for a brief meeting at the end of the year to go over profits. Come to think of it, it was through Max’s family connections that I was able to reconnect with Teddy and secure his investment in the first place. The shops were now turning a healthy profit, which gave me the courage to walk away from Max. So, I guess my seven years with Max weren’t a complete waste. I shrugged. “We broke up.” “Again?” A smirk played on Teddy’s lips, a hint of schadenfreude in his eyes. He strolled in, draping himself over my sofa and propping his long legs up on my coffee table. He had none of the cool, aristocratic air I remembered from our first few meetings; he was all casual, roguish charm. I picked out a fine bottle of red from my wine cabinet. “This time, the engagement’s off.” I handed him a glass, my expression neutral. He swirled the wine, a laugh bubbling up. “Whoa, expensive stuff.” “Looks like you got hit hard this time. Need me to help you drink your sorrows away?” If he hadn’t knocked on the wrong door, he’d be the one getting hit much, much harder. I nodded. “It is expensive. It was a gift from you, last year at the annual party, after you got drunk.” It was a collector’s vintage. I hadn’t wanted to take it back to Max’s place, so I’d stored it here. Now, it was finding its way back to its original owner. Teddy’s eyes widened slightly before he tipped his head back and downed the glass in one go. “Well, let’s just call it a celebration of your escape from hell.” I raised my glass. “And here’s to you…” “…finding your own true love soon.” Being cheated on is something no man wants to hear about from someone else, especially from a woman he barely knows. Unfortunately, my subtle hint went right over his head. He just smiled, his handsome, almond-shaped eyes holding a charm that could bewitch anyone. A blind man, it turned out. “My true love is right here with me,” he said. “You should save that toast for yourself.” But thinking back, wasn’t I just as blind? Teddy was willing to break from his family for that actress. And my own heart had been shattered into a million pieces by Max. 5 The wine went down easy, but the delayed punch of the cabernet was brutal. Before I knew it, I was completely wasted. I was clinging to Teddy, a mess of tears and laughter, cursing Max one minute and myself the next. Teddy gently pushed me away, his tone teasing. “If Max saw you holding onto another man like this,” he drawled, “he wouldn’t take you back even if you begged him on your knees.” The memory of the past seven years, of me always being the one to swallow my pride and beg for reconciliation, flooded back. Fueled by alcohol, all my pent-up frustrations came pouring out. “This time, I’m the one who doesn’t want him!” I slurred. “Even if he gets on his knees and begs me, I’m not going back!” “You mean it?” Teddy’s voice was intense, his gaze burning. Sprawled on the sofa, I didn’t see the galaxy of stars glittering in his eyes. I just mumbled, “As real as it gets.” In the hazy space between dream and reality, I felt a warm pressure on my lips. An electric tingle traced paths across my skin. Instinctively, I responded to the searing heat, giving in to the passion. When my mind finally cleared, it was noon the next day. My entire body ached, as if it had been run over by a truck. My eyes fell to the floor, where a tangled mess of clothes lay discarded. Then I saw him. Lying next to me, bare-chested, was Teddy. His long lashes rested on his cheeks, deep in sleep. A few faint, rosy marks—kisses—were scattered across his muscular chest. Flashes of the night before… My mind exploded. Did I just have a one-night stand with Teddy?! Whatever his girlfriend was doing last night, they were still together. What did that make me? How was I any different from her? If word got out that I’d broken them up, the gossip would bury me alive. Holding my breath, I carefully lifted Teddy’s arm from around my waist. Like a thief, I tiptoed around, gathered my clothes, grabbed my phone, and fled my own apartment. I didn’t feel safe until I was speeding towards my office, the gas pedal pressed to the floor. I just had to hope that when Teddy woke up, he’d be just as eager as I was to forget last night’s insane mistake. “Ms. Lin, Mr. Cole is waiting for you in your office,” my assistant whispered, her eyes wide with fear. “He was… really angry earlier.” She must have caught the brunt of his temper. I walked in. Max was leaning against my desk, arms crossed. My suitcase was on the floor beside him. He saw me and his face hardened into a scowl. “Cara, you’ve got some nerve, blocking my number!” He gestured to the suitcase. “Here’s the rest of your stuff. You can move back in once Ava’s feeling better.” A bitter laugh escaped me. “The engagement is off. Why would we need each other’s numbers? Please do me a favor and block me too.” Max’s eyes flashed with surprise, then irritation. “What kind of game are you playing now? I’ve told you before, you can’t compete with Ava. In my life, she will always come first.” “If you want to be Mrs. Cole, you’ll learn to behave.” 6 I couldn’t take it anymore. “Mr. Cole, was I not clear enough?” “We. Called. Off. The. Engagement.” “Who you put first has absolutely nothing to do with me. Do you understand?” I enunciated each word of that last sentence. He froze, his gaze locking with my cold, indifferent stare. For the first time, Max lost his composure in front of me, his mask of superiority crumbling. A vein pulsed in his neck as he pointed a trembling finger at me. “Cara! If you think I have the time or patience for your little push-and-pull games, you’re dead wrong! This is your one and only chance. Either you play along and wait until Ava’s better for our engagement, or you get out of my life and never show your face again!” Without a word, I bent down and picked up the files he had angrily swept to the floor. “Just as long as you stop showing up here and throwing tantrums, Mr. Cole, I can guarantee you’ll never see me again.” He was so used to me fawning over him that my blatant disregard was more than he could handle. He stormed out, slamming the door behind him. “Don’t come crawling back to me like a pathetic dog,” he snarled. “I’m sick of watching you beg!” His words were like a thousand tiny needles piercing my heart. Even though the love was gone, seven years of my life, a heart offered so freely, being trampled on like this… it still hurt. But I didn’t have much time to wallow. My phone began to explode with calls and texts from Teddy. “So you just eat and run? Classy.” “Is this how you treat your lead investor?” “Was I that bad last night?” “You have three minutes to answer your phone, or I’m coming to your office.” My heart hammered against my ribs as I read his messages. I was terrified. In a panic, I did the only thing I could think of: I turned off my phone. Last night wasn’t my idea, but… I hadn’t exactly said no. Teddy was reckless. He feared nothing and no one. I wasn’t like him. My business was just taking off; I had too much to lose. I couldn’t fight him, so I had to run. I booked the next flight to Paris. The visa was originally for my honeymoon with Max. Now, I was using it to escape a different kind of entanglement.

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My looks have always been more of a curse than a blessing. Drop-dead gorgeous, with a figure to match, I was the target of every vicious, slut-shaming rumor from middle school all the way through high school. So, when I got to college, I decided to build a fortress around myself. I drained my savings to buy designer clothes and luxury accessories, crafting the perfect illusion of an untouchable heiress. But then, I started seeing the Comments. 【Ugh, this side character is so fake! Can the main character please show up and expose her already?】 【Lmao, just wait. She’s only here to get her ass handed to her.】 【Am I the only one who feels bad for her? Here, have a lollipop. /donates one lollipop/】 I blinked, and a solid gold lollipop materialized in my pocket. Wait a second. I could get rich from these donations, couldn’t I? If they wanted a main character, I’d just have to become the one they adored. 1 One week into Freshman Orientation, everyone was starting to find their footing. That’s when I overheard two guys talking trash about me. “Seraphina Vance has an insane body. What would it take to get in her pants?” “Dream on. She looks all innocent, but I bet her price is steep.” “You’re missing the point. I heard she’s from some backwater town in the middle of nowhere. Place is full of broke people. God knows how she scraped her way into Aethelgard University.” “Yeah, and that long hair of hers? It’s a leash for some rich old man to hold onto.” “She acts like she’s loaded, but who knows where that money really comes from.” I stepped out from around the corner, a sweet smile plastered on my face. “I recorded that whole conversation,” I said, my voice dripping with honey. “Venmo me two hundred bucks each, right now. Or I can just take this to the Dean and sue you both for slander.” I played back the recording. Their faces went pale. They couldn’t even look me in the eye as they scanned my QR code and scurried away like rats. I glanced at my bank balance. Enough to keep the ‘rich girl’ act going for a few more days. That’s right. It was all an act. In my last life, it was just me and my grandma against the world. My looks made me a constant target. With no parents or relatives to defend me, I had to swallow every bit of harassment. One creep shoved a dollar bill down my shirt, asking if that “fortune” was enough to buy a night with me. Another offered me a piece of bread in exchange for a grope. Those are the memories that haunt my darkest nights. Getting into a top university in Sterling City didn’t end the nightmare. In this city where every inch of ground costs a fortune, I was a fish out of water. I came from the rural heartland, a place so poor and forgotten that no one here could possibly understand the mountains I had to climb just to stand at the gates of Aethelgard. The locals were clique-y, and the class hierarchy on campus was brutal. The moderately wealthy guys saw me as a game, a trophy to be won. They took pictures of me, and when one ended up in the “Campus Queen” poll, they laughed themselves sick. A “hick from the sticks” like me, competing for the crown? They placed bets on how much it would cost to get me into bed. The harassment was relentless. It ended with me being kidnapped, dragged into the city’s dark underbelly, and broken until I died. All I ever wanted was to live. When I opened my eyes again, I was back before my first day of college. And I knew the truth. My world was a novel, and I was the disposable side character, a mere stepping stone to highlight the heroine’s grace and nobility. This second chance was a miracle. This time, I was flipping the script. After Grandma passed, I sold our little house and moved to Sterling City. Now, just one week in, my wallet was nearly empty. As I was staring at the last twenty dollars in my account, wondering how I’d survive the rest of the month, I heard those guys spreading their poison. In my last life, I would have confronted them, but without proof, I would have just been smeared with more lies. This time, armed with my carefully constructed heiress persona, I had the confidence to fight back. Maybe if you pretend long enough, you start to believe it yourself. I scanned the Comments as I walked back to my dorm. 【Damn, she’s gorgeous. It’ll make it so much more satisfying when she gets taken down a peg!】 【This poser, with her Chanel knock-offs from Poshmark, actually has people fooled.】 【Doesn’t anyone else think she’s kind of tragic?】 【Tragic? Please! Later on, she bullies our girl, steals her Campus Queen title, and tries to seduce the male lead. She’s a total villain!】 … Ever since I was reborn, I could see them. These floating lines of text were like spoilers for my own life, helping me dodge one disaster after another. Back in the dorm, my roommates were gushing over the new collections from Fashion Week. “Seraphina, see anything you like?” Courteney asked, scrolling through her tablet. I shook my head, affecting an air of casual critique. “The fall collections are a bit too loud for my taste. Especially that Autumn Hue set by Alin. The traditional elements are too much. Not really my style.” I continued, “I did like the Parisian chic suit from ChoLI, but I can’t stand wearing boots in this weather, so that’s a pass. By the way, have you guys seen the new Hermès bag? It would look amazing on you, Jessica. That subtle pattern is totally your vibe. You should get one.” I was washing my face, my voice nonchalant. Jessica’s eyes lit up. “Wow! Seraphina, how did you know I was eyeing that one? I already had the boutique send it over. It’s the first one in Sterling City!” “It was made for you,” I smiled. That bag cost twenty-five thousand dollars. For me and Grandma, that kind of money could have lasted from elementary school through high school, with plenty to spare. For them, it was just a purse. The old me would have been crippled by insecurity. The new me just thought, twenty-five grand, no big deal. You have to project that kind of indifference to pull off the role. I’d practically memorized every luxury catalog in existence. 【Is she really pulling this off? Shouldn’t she be totally out of her depth with these roommates?】 【The higher she builds herself up, the harder she’ll fall when our girl exposes her. It’s gonna be epic.】 【Wait, shouldn’t they hate her? These three are notorious for looking down on anyone not from the city. Why aren’t they freezing her out?】 … I looked at my reflection. Last time, that’s exactly what happened. They couldn’t stand sharing a room with me, so they posted my picture online, turning me into a target for every pervert on campus. They were princesses who thought an iced Americano with the wrong milk was a hardship. I couldn’t beat them head-on, so I chose to blend in. My diploma from Aethelgard was my ticket to a real life, and I wouldn’t let anything get in my way. But first, I needed to make some money. Scrolling through TikTok, I saw a lot of “thirst trap” creators. They made a killing without even showing their faces. It was tempting, but not exactly something I could film in the dorm— “OMG, you guys! There’s a new post on the campus forum! They’re running a poll for ‘Freshman Campus Queen’! Are you guys gonna enter?” Jessica shook her head. “Nah, this face has had too much work done. I’d just get roasted. I’m happy looking pretty for myself.” Maddie sighed, patting her stomach. “Same here. I gained weight on my trip to the Maldives, and I got so tan.” “Hey! I think Seraphina should do it!” Courteney threw an arm around my shoulder. “Go win it for our dorm, Seraphina! Bring home the crown!” “I’ll pass. Not really interested,” I said with a practiced smile. Last time, they entered a candid photo of me without my permission. Even with just a picture of my side profile, I placed second, completely overshadowing the story’s real heroine. That’s what put a target on my back. It made my already difficult life impossible. Jessica scoffed at the screen. “The first prize is only fifteen hundred dollars? That’s pathetic. Who are they trying to impress?” Courteney squinted at the prize list. “But, the winner gets to host the Freshman Gala, which means extra academic credits! And an automatic spot in the Student Council.” A spark ignited in my mind. The Student Council… got paid. “Extra credits make it easier to skip class, right?” I asked, looking at the three of them. “Totally.” “Then count me in.” I swept my long hair behind my shoulder. “I just launched a new company, and things are pretty hectic. I might need to take a lot of days off.” When you’re out in the world, you create your own identity. “Oh, then it’s perfect for you!” Courteney said, her eyes wide with envy. “My dad won’t even let me near our company’s affairs. I wish I could start my own.” I struck a pose by the window. “Alright, ladies, get your phones out. Your girl is about to bring a crown home to this dorm.” Courteney eagerly snapped photos. A simple white dress, a cascade of dark hair, a flawless face, and a figure that was the perfect combination of delicate and curvaceous. My roommates looked on with pure admiration, not a trace of jealousy or contempt in sight. 【She actually did it? The facade is working?】 【Damn, can I do this too?! I just started college, is it too late to reinvent myself?】 【You’d need her guts, her resilience, and let’s be real, her face.】 【Okay, but she really is stunning…】 【I think I’m in love. [Donates one Heart to Seraphina Vance]】 … I was surprised to see that the Comments could send gifts. As I stood there, stunned, I felt something solid appear in my hand. It was a perfect, heart-shaped piece of solid gold. By the time they finished taking pictures and showed them to me, they noticed the golden heart in my palm. “Whoa! That little heart is so pretty! Is that real gold?” Jessica stared. “Where did you get that custom-made? It’s gorgeous.” I had snapped back to reality. The commenters had no idea their virtual gifts were becoming real. A slow smile spread across my face. I’d thought of them as a noisy, disembodied Greek chorus, but now I saw them for what they were: my personal treasure chests. I knew how to play this game now. Play the rich girl for my roommates, and the poor, pitiful victim for the Comments. With that strategy, I could actually change my fate. “Let me see!” Maddie’s eyes were glued to the heart. “Seraphina, can I please buy this from you? It’s the most exquisite thing I’ve ever seen!” Pretending to be absorbed in the photos, I replied, “Oh, this? My mom sent it to me. I almost forgot I had it. If you like it that much, you can have it.” All three of them stared at me, their jaws on the floor. It was solid gold! With the current price of gold, that little thing was worth at least fifteen grand, and I was just offering to give it away like it was nothing. “No way! I couldn’t just take it,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ll pay you. Just ask your mom where she got it made, and I’ll order one. I’m obsessed with this.” This was exactly what I wanted. I knew they wouldn’t accept a gift this expensive from someone they’d only known for a week. She instantly sent me $15,000. “Let’s just call it that. I know you’re not sweating the small stuff. Mwah!” She gave me a playful hug. I smiled indulgently. “Alright, alright.” If I’d taken it to a pawn shop, I would’ve had to haggle and would have gotten less for it. This was instant cash! Fifteen. Thousand. Dollars. I hereby declare the commenters my true family! I’ll never get annoyed at their insults again. My casual generosity completely won them over. After I officially entered the Campus Queen poll, we all decided to head out for the afternoon. Jessica had her license, so she drove us to the Sterling Galleria in her massive G-Wagon. With money in my account, my confidence soared. I shopped with them, buying a few new outfits and some high-end skincare. And I noticed something—as soon as I left campus, the Comments vanished. They had no idea I was out here blowing cash. “I have to head home,” Jessica said apologetically. “My grandma’s not feeling well.” “And I need to make a withdrawal,” Courteney added with a shrug. “A friend’s birthday is coming up, and I have no idea what to get her. A fat stack of cash is always a good gift.” Maddie looked at me. “I gotta go too. My brother just got back from Europe.” “I guess you’ll have to go back to campus by yourself, then.” The looks of genuine regret in their eyes were something I had never seen in my previous life. “It’s fine, I have to stop by my office anyway,” I lied smoothly. “See you guys back at the dorm.” “Okay!” After saying our goodbyes, I called a black car service to take me back to school. As we drove through the gates, I remembered my own arrival. I had rented a Rolls-Royce, complete with a driver and a “butler” to handle my registration. That’s how I had cemented my persona from day one. 2 Vehicles weren’t allowed past the main quad, so I got out near the athletic fields. Juggling shopping bags, I started the walk back to my dorm. The early autumn air was buzzing with energy. A soccer game was in full swing on one field, while the basketball courts were packed with guys showing off. As I passed by the courts, I heard a shout: “Watch out—!” I turned just in time to see a basketball hurtling toward my face. I had no time to react. Just as it was about to hit me, a figure leaped in front of me, slapping the ball away. The force sent us both tumbling to the ground. Before I could even process what happened, the Comments went absolutely ballistic. 【WTF?! No, no, no! This is the main couple’s fated basketball meet-cute! What is the side character doing here?!】 【She’s supposed to be crying in her dorm room right now! Why is she on the basketball court!】 【Get away from him! Don’t you dare steal our girl’s man! The villain arc is starting! NOOOO!】 … I looked up into a pair of stunningly handsome eyes. The guy was blushing to the tips of his ears. I tried to scramble up, but I was tangled with him. My body was pressed against his chest. “Sorry—” He seemed… off. I knew exactly what was happening under the surface and quickly pushed myself off him, smoothing down my dress. My white dress was now smudged with dirt, a glaring stain on the fabric. He got to his feet. “Are you—are you okay?” His eyes were fixed on me. “I should be the one saying sorry. They were aiming for me.” I glanced at my scraped knee. Then at him. His elbow and ankle were both bleeding. “I’m fine. But what about you? Can you walk?” “It… hurts a little,” he said, his gaze flickering away. “Ethan! You okay, man?!” A group of guys from the court rushed over. “I’m fine… Actually, not fine.” He limped dramatically, his face contorted in pain as he looked at me. “I think I need to go to the infirmary. You should come too. Your knee is bleeding.” His friends exchanged knowing glances. One of them piped up, “Hey, uh, freshman? Could you help him get to the clinic?” Oh, for crying out loud. This guy was putting on a show. I’d seen him take harder falls on the court a dozen times without a scratch. “I have somewhere to be,” I said flatly. The Comments were already accusing me of seducing their precious male lead. I wanted nothing to do with him. These people, my new benefactors, clearly had the wrong idea about me. I wasn’t interested in this guy, no matter how handsome or rich he obviously was—judging by the watch on his wrist. All I wanted was to graduate in peace. Getting close to the main characters was a recipe for disaster. A flicker of disappointment crossed his face before he quickly masked it with a smile. “But you got hurt because of me. The least I can do is make sure you’re taken care of…” “Yeah, freshman,” another one of his friends chimed in, already grabbing my shopping bags. “We’ll take these to your dorm. You just take Ethan to the clinic. You don’t want that to scar.” Seeing my bags being carried off, I sighed in defeat. “I’m in Block A, room 208. Thanks, I guess.” “No problem! We got you!” They practically sprinted away. The guy beside me was hobbling so badly he nearly fell over several times. I wanted to help him, but the stream of hate in the Comments kept me frozen. I pretended not to notice. 【What is the male lead doing?! Isn’t he supposed to be disgusted by physical contact with women?! Why is he totally fine with the side character?】 【OMG SERAPHINA YOU SLUT! LEAVE ETHAN REED ALONE!】 【ETHAN, NO! Your soulmate isn’t her! She’s a fake and doesn’t deserve you!】 【Are there any sane people in this chat? Is she throwing herself at him? It looks like she’s being forced into this. If you ask me, the male lead is the one with the problem. In real life, if you threw a ball that almost hit me, you’d be getting a fist to the face!】 … I knew this was my chance. In the infirmary, as the nurse cleaned my wound, I let my eyes well up with tears. My body trembled slightly, but I didn’t make a sound. Ethan watched me, his face a mask of guilt. “I’m really sorry.” I looked up at him and forced a smile. “It’s okay, senior. It doesn’t even hurt anymore.” 【Aww, my poor baby. This was totally not her fault!】 【Is the male lead just falling for her looks? Seraphina is prettier than the heroine, but she’s a total fraud! She’s so dishonest!】 【Does she want to be a fraud? If she didn’t pretend, everyone would bully and ignore her. The male lead wouldn’t have even noticed she existed.】 【A fake is a fake. Why pretend to be rich? With a face like that, she should just sell herself! Trying to steal the heroine’s man is just pathetic!】 【I can’t take this. I’m starting to feel for her. Anyone who insults her again, I’m just going to keep donating! /donates one Bunny Kiss/】 … Bless the kind souls of the world. I felt a small, heavy object appear in my hand. A solid gold bunny. I discreetly slipped it into my purse. Gold. It felt like it was worth a fortune. As we left the infirmary, Ethan started, “Hey, so, I…” “It’s fine. I’m going to head back now.” I gave him a polite smile. “Bye, senior.” I walked away quickly. He stood there, staring at his own hand, his expression darkening. “I actually didn’t mind it… What the hell is wrong with me?” 3 I got back to the dorm before my roommates. My knee throbbed, so yoga was out. I lay in bed, scrolling through videos, and stumbled deeper into the world of “thirst trap” content. The women were bold, confident, and unapologetically sexy. It was like discovering a new continent. A daring idea began to form in my mind. Maybe this was a new path for me. I already had a TikTok account with about seven hundred followers. I’d posted a dozen videos trying to teach people math and English shortcuts, but they had barely any views. I started studying what the popular creators were doing, and by the time my roommates returned, I was lost in my research. “If it weren’t for Orientation, I would never live on campus. It’s so boring!” “College is way better than high school. At least we can get food delivered.” “My high school was like a prison. I was so skinny back then.” … They barged in, laden with bags of food, and immediately started sharing with me. “Seraphina, you have to try these mochi. My family’s housekeeper stood in line for over an hour to get them.” “These lotus paste buns are amazing too.” “And I got you a bubble tea from Li’s Handcrafted. Their tea doesn’t give you insomnia!” I sat up, smiling. “Thanks, you guys.” I never got this treatment in my past life. Back then, they were afraid I’d secretly lick their leftovers. The concept of class was etched into their bones; if you didn’t have money, you were nothing more than a servant. “Whoa! Did your mom send you this bunny?!” Maddie spotted my new golden treasure. She had a thing for gold, and her eyes were practically sparkling. “God, I love gold so much!” “Oh my god, that is the cutest thing! The craftsmanship is incredible!” “That must have cost a fortune. Seraphina, your mom is the best.” They looked at me with envy. I just smiled. “Yeah. I told her I gave the heart to a good friend, so she sent this over.” Jessica added, “Wow, your mom is so cool. You should keep that somewhere safe. This campus is full of broke losers who steal things.” My hands clenched, but my smile didn’t waver. “I will.” In my past life, whenever something of theirs went missing, I was the first person they accused. Even now, we could never be true friends. But I couldn’t afford to make enemies of them. I just had to focus on my own life, on surviving… That was Grandma’s greatest wish for me. My life has been a series of misfortunes. Abandoned by my parents, harassed by disgusting men, so poor I had to dig through trash cans for food. The moment I had a chance to escape that filth, I never looked back. I brought Grandma’s ashes with me to Sterling City. Right now, she’s in a storage unit at a funeral home because I can’t afford to bury her. Grandma, this city is wonderful and terrible all at once. But the good news is, I’m still alive. “Seraphina, what happened to your leg?” Maddie asked, her attention shifting from the golden bunny to the bandage on my knee. “I was walking past the athletic fields earlier, and some guys playing basketball hit me with the ball.” I conveniently left out the part about the hero who saved me. “What? Was it Ethan Reed and his friends?” “…” Was he that famous? “You don’t know who Ethan Reed is?” Maddie was ready for the gossip. “He’s the president of the Student Council! His family is loaded. Last semester, some guy pissed him off, and Ethan kicked him. He paid the guy a hundred thousand dollars in compensation.” “I heard about that! After that, a bunch of people started trying to pick fights with him, hoping to get a payout.” “Haha, too bad he rarely loses his temper. I heard he’s amazing at basketball!” “Totally!” They launched into a discussion about cute guys on campus, but my mind was elsewhere. I was plotting my first thirst-trap video. If I had the body, I might as well use it to make a living. It’s not like I had a choice. Besides, I wasn’t selling myself to anyone. It was just videos. And it was a way to make money. A way to stay alive. 4 The next day of Orientation started with a morning run. My three roommates were still asleep. Their motto: “I bet the instructor won’t take attendance!” And usually, they’d be right. The field was massive, filled with students from every department. The instructors just did a quick headcount. But today, of all days, was different. They were taking attendance. Members of the Student Council were going down the lines, checking off names. I messaged the group chat, but no one replied. Just as my turn was coming up, my phone buzzed. It was Maddie. [OMG GORGEOUS PLS SIGN ME IN! I WILL BE YOUR LOYAL SERVANT FOR LIFE!] [SAME HERE! PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU. I HEARD IF YOU’RE ABSENT YOU LOSE ACADEMIC CREDITS! IF I LOSE CREDITS MY DAD WILL CUT ME OFF!] [Add my name too, please please please!] … I thought to myself, instead of getting revenge on them, why not use them? Climbing the social ladder on the shoulders of these princesses was a much better strategy than burning bridges. But then I heard the student council member up ahead yell, “No signing in for others!” I typed back: Sorry guys, I tried. When I got to the front of the line, I realized the person taking names was Ethan Reed. He saw me, and the senior next to him gave me a sly grin. “Well, well, look who it is.” Ethan shot his friend, Leo, a glare. He looked at me, his voice soft. “Is your knee feeling better?” A wave of “Ooohs” rippled through the students around us. The implication was huge. My expression hardened. I grabbed the pen to sign my name. Seeing my anger, Ethan panicked. “What are you all whispering about? She got hit by my basketball yesterday and fell!” “Anyone who thinks otherwise, I’ll personally shove your head in a toilet!” he threatened, his voice laced with ice. I used the commotion to quickly scribble down four names. He stared at the paper. “…” I dropped the pen and walked away. He rubbed his nose, shot another death glare at the gawking crowd, and tossed the clipboard to Leo before jogging after me. “Seraphina! I didn’t mean for that to happen…” he said, falling into step beside me as we ran. “Don’t be mad. Let me buy you dinner, okay?” I ignored him, but the Comments were already in a frenzy. 【WTF! MALE LEAD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! You wouldn’t even let the main character sign in for her friends, but you let this fake get away with it?!】 【Why does she get special treatment! When is someone going to expose her?! I CAN’T STAND IT!】 【Wasn’t he the one who chased after her? Why is everyone blaming her again? This simp-filled world is exhausting.】 【The real heroine is right behind him! She worked so hard to get into this school for him! Are you really going to betray her like this, Ethan?!】 【Ugh, that manipulative bitch! Someone needs to slap her! Get away from my man!】 【I said it before and I’ll say it again. Anyone who insults my girl Seraphina gets a donation from me! /donates one Rose Bouquet/】 … I felt my pocket grow heavier. Inside was a delicate, solid gold rose bouquet. I loved this commenter so much. So, readers really could fall in love with fictional characters. “Seraphina…” Ethan was still trying to talk to me. I shot him a look. “It’s fine. But let’s just keep our distance from now on, senior. Thank you.” With that, I picked up my pace, running into the morning sun. Ethan started to follow, but I broke into a full sprint. It wasn’t until a group of girls intercepted him that I finally had a chance to catch my breath. My roommates had managed to sneak into the formation. “I signed you in,” I told them, a mischievous grin on my face. “OMG, you’re our savior! I can’t believe the Student Council was taking attendance today. They’re usually such hard-asses!” “How did you do it?” “It wasn’t easy,” I said, not wanting them to think it was a simple favor. “But I managed.” “Oh, thank you, thank you, Seraphina!” After that, we were closer than ever. 5 At lunch in the dining hall, Courteney showed me the poll results on her phone. I was in second place. No surprise there. The heroine, of course, was number one. I glanced over at a table not far from ours, where four girls were sitting. The one in the middle was the heroine herself—Brianna Weston. She was the daughter of one of Sterling City’s wealthiest families, a true blue-blood. She’d met Ethan at a gala, decided he was the one, and moved heaven and earth to get into his university. Originally, she was the one who was supposed to be hit by the basketball. That encounter would have deepened their connection, and from there, their romance would have blossomed. But that day, I had taken a private car and gotten back early, putting me in the right place at the wrong time. Brianna had been walking just a few steps behind me. All of this I learned from the Comments. Not that it mattered to me. What I didn’t know was that as I was watching them, they were watching me. “That girl’s dress… it looks a lot like the one I sold on Poshmark,” Scarlett muttered, her eyes narrowed on me. “What? You’re imagining things,” Brianna said, snapping out of a daze. “I know who she is. Her family has some money, just not from around here. She made a big show of her arrival, buying the whole class bubble tea from Li’s on the first day. Someone like that isn’t buying second-hand clothes.” “I’m serious. The one I sold had a tiny faded spot on the shoulder because my maid used the wrong detergent. I loved that dress, so I bought a new one and sold the old one.” “The buyer also bought a matching bag…” Scarlett frowned. “I remember the username, what was it again?” She opened the app on her phone and her eyes went wide. She looked at Brianna in shock. “The recipient was just ‘Ms. Vance’! It has to be her, Seraphina Vance! How many people have that last name?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “384578”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Years after graduation, Caleb Howard was a name everyone knew. At our high school reunion, someone decided to play matchmaker, nudging him towards me. “Caleb, my man! Remember the little shadow who used to follow you around everywhere?” he slurred, reeking of whiskey. “You’re single, she’s single… why not give it another shot?” Caleb slowly raised his left hand, a humorless smile on his lips. “I’m married.” The table erupted in shocked whispers. Only I stayed silent, my head bowed. I couldn’t understand why he was still wearing that ring. We’d been divorced for three years. 1 The reunion was in full swing when the class president burst through the door, his voice booming with excitement. “Everybody, look who’s here!” I followed their collective gaze, and my breath caught in my throat. It was Caleb. Three years had carved a new maturity into his features. As he greeted old classmates, the corners of his eyes crinkled into a subtle, charming arc. He carried himself with the quiet confidence of a man who knew his own worth. I’d heard he was recently named the city’s “Outstanding Young Entrepreneur of the Year,” already a multimillionaire before thirty. While the others swarmed him with handshakes and back-pats, I ducked my head and pretended to be absorbed in my phone. From the corner of my eye, I saw him take the empty seat diagonally across from me. His gaze swept over me without a flicker of recognition, not lingering for even a second. But I noticed something he didn’t. Against the dark fabric of his trench coat, I saw a dusting of crystalline flakes clinging to the shoulders. It was snowing outside. My phone buzzed again. The woman next to me, a former classmate whose voice had always been two decibels too loud, leaned in with a smirk. “Carol, is that your boyfriend? Someone’s keeping you on a tight leash.” My eyes instinctively shot toward Caleb. He was deep in conversation, his expression calm, as if he hadn’t heard a thing. I forced a smile and shook my head. “No, it’s just my mom. She’s reminding me about the blind date she set up for next week.” We were all in our late twenties. Some were married with kids, but most, like me, were fielding the relentless pressure from our parents. A few women at the table groaned in solidarity. “I swear, my mom’s in such a rush, you’d think she was breeding prize livestock,” one of them griped. “As long as it’s the right gender and looks healthy, nothing else matters.” “You’ve gotta be careful, Carol,” another warned. “All the good ones get snapped up before they even hit the open market.” Just then, a burly guy, flushed with alcohol, slammed his hand on the table and staggered to his feet. “Caleb, my man!” he bellowed. “Remember the little shadow who used to follow you around everywhere?” Caleb said nothing. The guy, assuming Caleb’s memory needed jogging, pressed on. “You know! The one who spammed you with, like, a dozen love letters and confessed to you in front of the whole damn school at the graduation party—Carol Vance!” It took me a moment to recognize him under the extra weight. It was Big Mike, our old football captain. His favorite pastime back then was stirring up drama, and apparently, some things never change. “You’re single, she’s single… why not give it another shot?” In an instant, every curious, gossiping eye in the room swiveled between Caleb and me. A decade hadn’t been long enough for them to forget. They were all waiting, hungry for the next chapter of the story that had been the backdrop to their own teenage years, no matter how it ended. Caleb finally turned to look at me, his expression unreadable. Our eyes met. He slowly raised his left hand, a humorless smile playing on his lips. “I’m married.” The words dropped like a bomb. “What? Caleb, when did you get married? You didn’t even invite us to the wedding!” “Seriously, man, you kept that under wraps! We haven’t even seen a picture of the lucky lady on your feed!” Only I stayed silent, my head bowed, staring into my lap. I couldn’t understand it. Why was Caleb Howard still wearing that wedding ring? Except… we’d been divorced for three years. 2 Looking back, our divorce felt inevitable. There was no proposal, no wedding ceremony, not even a single wedding photo. The year we graduated from college, his mother was diagnosed with cancer. I had just visited her in the hospital, my arms aching from a heavy basket of fruit. As I was leaving, Caleb grabbed my hand in the sterile hallway. “Carol,” he said, his voice flat. “Let’s get married.” The words, completely out of the blue, were like a winning lottery ticket dropping into my lap. I was stunned. Terrified he might change his mind, I blurted out “yes” before he could take it back. We got our marriage license on a perfectly ordinary weekend. City Hall was quiet. The clerk motioned for us to get closer for the photo. “Okay, groom, a little closer to the bride. And groom, lose the poker face. Try to smile like she is. Good.” That small, red-backed photo on our marriage certificate became our first picture together. After a brief, sterile ceremony, I’d skipped the role of girlfriend and gone straight to being Caleb’s wife. He was in the grueling start-up phase of his company back then. To avoid a long-distance relationship, I turned down a good teaching position at a private school out of state. On his advice, I started studying for the state teaching certification exams instead. He must have known he was asking a lot of me. When we went to buy rings, he promised we’d have a real wedding once things settled down. Wanting to be the supportive, understanding wife, I picked out a simple, unadorned band that didn’t cost much. It was never about the money; it was about his heart. After we were married, we rented a tiny 400-square-foot apartment. It was small, but our life was sweet. We were like any other young couple, holding hands at the grocery store on weekends, losing ourselves in each other’s arms late at night. A year later, his mother passed away. He held me and cried for the first time. “Carol,” he whispered, his voice cracking, “I don’t have a family anymore.” His parents had divorced when he was young, and his mother, fiercely ambitious for him, had always been controlling. People saw Caleb as cold and distant, but I knew that deep down, he was just a man desperate to be loved. I held him tighter, murmuring again and again, “You have me. I’m your family now.” To cope with his grief, Caleb threw himself into his work, spending every waking hour at the office. The long hours and irregular meals took their toll, and soon he was hospitalized with a stomach ulcer. From that day on, I started bringing him home-cooked meals at his office. And that was the first time I met Vivian Chen. 3 By then, Caleb’s company was gaining traction. He’d recruited several talented alumni from our university, and Vivian, a brilliant programmer who had been a few years ahead of him, was his star hire. She had a decorated history of winning software design competitions and a wealth of project experience. Caleb was immensely grateful that she’d left a lucrative job at a tech giant to join his fledgling team. I stood outside his glass-walled office with the insulated lunchbox, listening in silence as they volleyed terms and concepts I couldn’t begin to grasp. The energy between them was electric. Finally, their intense discussion ended. They’d reached a breakthrough. “That’s it,” Caleb said, his eyes shining with an admiration I’d never seen him direct at me. “We’ll go with your plan.” A hollow feeling opened in my chest. As I stood there, frozen, Vivian noticed me and gestured with her chin. “Caleb, your girlfriend’s here.” He glanced over, his expression shifting. “She’s my wife,” he corrected. “Oh, right. My mistake,” she said with an easy laugh. “You just don’t meet many guys who get married so young.” I stepped inside, feeling clumsy and out of place as I set down the lunchbox. I was an intruder in their world. As I turned to leave, I heard Vivian ask, “Your wife doesn’t seem like she’s in tech. What does she do?” “She’s a teacher.” Caleb’s tone was clipped, as if he was reluctant to discuss his personal life at work. But Vivian was persistent. “I have friends who teach at the university. Maybe they know each other. Is she a high school teacher? Or college?” “She’s still studying for her certification.” “Oh, that explains it,” Vivian said, her voice bright and cheerful. “No wonder she has time to bring you lunch. Don’t worry, those exams are a breeze these days…” But what was a “breeze” for someone like Vivian was a hurricane for me. I failed. My old college advisor, hearing I was still unemployed, called with a job opportunity. But it was out of state, and Caleb was firmly against it. He picked up one of my discarded test-prep books, flipping through the pages. He chuckled, trying to be encouraging. “Carol, this stuff isn’t that hard. Just focus a little more next time, and you’ll nail it.” I bit my lip, the words catching in my throat. He seemed to have forgotten that I wasn’t born with a mind like his. Math problems that others understood after one try took me ten. My only real talent was my persistence—especially when it came to him. He was the genius, the valedictorian who aced every exam. I was the art student who scraped by at the bottom of the class. I had only gotten into the state college next to his prestigious university by spending countless agonizing hours in the art studio, practicing until my fingers were raw and blistered. When he said “it isn’t that hard,” whose standard was he using? It was painfully obvious. 4 The dreams started. Night after night, I saw him standing beside someone else. Not me, but Vivian—someone who was his intellectual equal, who understood him in a way I never could. In my dreams, I was always running, but I could never catch up to him. I’d call his name, but he would never turn around… He must have noticed my spiraling mood. One night, after we made love, he pulled me close, his arms wrapping around me. “Honey,” he whispered, “work has slowed down a bit. How about we finally plan that wedding?” He traced a line down my spine. “I can take a couple of weeks off. We can go on a proper honeymoon, get away from everything. How does that sound?” Just like that, with a few soft words, he reeled me back in. But planning a wedding was far more complicated than I’d ever imagined. Even with a wedding planner, I obsessed over every detail: the venue, the menu, the flowers. This was my one and only wedding, and it had to be perfect. Just designing the wedding favor boxes had me pulling all-nighters, pouring more of myself into it than I ever did for my final thesis. That evening, I excitedly showed Caleb the final designs. He was on his laptop, but he glanced up for a fraction of a second. “Yeah, looks good. They’re fine.” I hesitated, chewing on my lip. “I can’t decide between these two. This one holds more, but this one is more elegant… what do you think?” He was typing a message to someone, a faint smile on his face, but he remembered to answer me. “Either one is fine.” Suddenly, I had nothing left to say. Sensing my silence, he closed his laptop and pulled me onto his lap. “Honey, what were you saying?” I forced a smile. “It’s nothing. Go on, finish your work. It’s not important.” A week before the wedding, I dropped off his lunch as usual. I had just gotten home when the wedding planner called. There was a last-minute change to a crucial part of the ceremony, and I had to choose between two options immediately. I couldn’t decide, and Caleb wasn’t answering his phone. Panicked, I rushed back to his office. But as I reached the entrance, I froze. I saw Caleb, his face a mask of indifference, scraping the meal I’d made for him into the trash. Vivian was leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed. “You really don’t know how good you have it, do you?” she teased. “Your wife treats you like a king, and you’re still not satisfied?” Her words were playful, but his reply was dead serious. “Do you think I wanted to waste it? We got so caught up in the project review that it was ice-cold by the time I got to it.” “Alright, alright, I get it,” she said, laughing. “My treat today. What are you in the mood for?” Caleb set the now-empty lunchbox aside, his movements clean and practiced, as if he’d done this a thousand times before. He sighed, a strange look on his face. “Sometimes… she’s just too good to me. It’s so much that it… it feels like pressure.” In that moment, the sour, rotten stench of discarded food seemed to rise from the bin. A wave of nausea hit me, and I fled. 5 Caleb called me again and again. Before, I would have answered on the first ring, no matter where I was or what I was doing. This time, I turned my phone off. When he finally rushed home, he found me sitting on the living room floor, my eyes swollen and red, surrounded by a mountain of shredded paper. They were the love letters I’d written him in high school. Eighteen of them. Each one filled with every ounce of love I had. He recognized the scraps immediately and lunged forward to stop me. “Carol, what are you doing?!” he demanded. “And what the hell was that call from the wedding planner? Why did you cancel everything?” I fought him off, my strength fueled by a cold rage. I snatched up one of the few intact letters and, looking him straight in the eye, ripped it in two. A perfect metaphor for us—a relationship that looked whole but was already torn to shreds. “Maybe, in your eyes, I’m no different than a stray cat,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet. “You pet me when you’re in the mood, and when you’re not, you just push me away. You never bothered to put any real thought into me. What I think doesn’t matter. What I feel doesn’t matter.” My voice rose with every word. “Caleb, do you see marrying me as some kind of noble charity on your part?” His hand clamped around my wrist, his grip like iron. “Is this about Vivian? Someone saw you at the office this afternoon…” I just shook my head. It wasn’t about Vivian. If it wasn’t her, it would have been someone else. A Sarah, a Jessica… He didn’t believe me. He tried to explain, his voice strained with forced patience. “I told you, we’re just colleagues. We have never been alone together outside of work. You can check my phone, my messages, anything you want.” I kept shaking my head, and his patience finally snapped. “Carol, why can’t you just trust me? Are you really going to throw everything away over something so small?” Suddenly, a strange calm washed over me. “You see? Even now, you think I’m just being hysterical.” “Sometimes,” I continued, my voice hollow, “I think we were never right for each other. It was always just me, forcing it.” “I’ll never understand your algorithms and your technical jargon, and you have zero interest in the comics and movies I love. You hate it when I touch your things, and you never share anything about your work with me. If I talk for more than a minute to one of your male friends, you give me the silent treatment all night.” “My heart is made of flesh and blood, Caleb. It can be hurt. It can break.” “And even with all that, I tried my best to be good to you, because you said I was the only family you had left in the world.” My nose stung, and tears began to stream down my face. “But I’ve walked ninety-nine steps toward you, and you won’t even take that final one. In fact, you’re backing away.” “Caleb,” I choked out, the words tearing through me. “I’m so tired.” All these years, I had chased after him with everything I had. He was the one who reached out his hand. He was the one who said he wanted to spend his life with me. And I believed him. I gave him my whole heart, without reservation. But my devotion was like throwing stones into the ocean—no echo, no ripple, just a deep, despairing silence. I had become lost, insecure. Jealous and ugly. I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. I didn’t see the point of a marriage like this. As he stared at me, his eyes wide with a dawning horror, I slowly slid the simple band from my finger. It took all the strength I had left to force out the final words. “Caleb, let’s get a divorce.” His eyes reddened, and his voice trembled when he spoke. “Are you sure?” He was such a proud man. He would never beg, never ask me to stay. I knew that. I watched as the warmth in his eyes froze over, replaced by a glacial cold. “Fine,” he bit out. “You said it. Carol, if you want a divorce, you’d better not live to regret it.” 6 The reunion party was winding down when a blizzard swept in, trapping us at the mountain lodge. My plan to drive home was shot. I’d have to stay the night with everyone else and wait for the snow to let up in the morning. Later, soaking in the hot springs, the women chatted lazily. “I had the biggest crush on Big Mike in high school,” one sighed. “Now… well, time is a cruel, cruel thing.” “I know, right? And the class clown is a dad now, so responsible. Caleb’s the only one who hasn’t really changed, married or not.” “Speaking of Caleb,” another chimed in, “he wasn’t even on the original guest list. The class president told me he canceled a huge project launch meeting just to be here tonight.” “That’s so weird. Caleb was always such a loner back then. I can’t think of anyone he was close enough with to go to all that trouble for…” On impulse, my fingers found his number in my contacts. In the three years since our divorce, Caleb had texted me exactly three times. The first was a month after we separated. You left some clothes in my closet. Want to pick them up this weekend? The second was on Christmas the following year. I brought some gifts for your parents. I’m downstairs. The third message, sent sometime last year, contained only two words. Carol Vance. He must have regretted sending it instantly, because nothing followed. I never replied to any of them. The moment the clerk stamped our divorce papers, I had resolved to sever every last emotional tie to him. If it hadn’t been for this reunion, we probably would have gone the rest of our lives without ever seeing each other again. After the hot springs, I said my goodnights in the main lobby. The others were heading off for more drinks and games, but I was ready for bed. As I walked down the long, quiet hallway, I saw him. Caleb was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, as if waiting for someone. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead, pretending not to see him as I walked past. “Carol.” I ignored him, fumbling with my key card. But just as I inserted it into the lock, a hand clamped down on the door handle, holding it shut. “Carol,” he said, his voice finally losing its composure, his tone sharp and demanding. “Tell me something. What’s this about a blind date?”

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