Author: Momo Chan

The second year after Mom died, Dad decided to remarry. The woman, Joanna, threw out everything that belonged to my mother. She gave me spoiled milk to drink and forbade Dad from holding me. In the middle of the night, I’d hide under the covers, crying silent tears. Suddenly, strange text started flashing before my eyes, like comments on a screen only I could see. 【Cassie, don’t cry! Go find your grandpa!】 【He’s the chairman of the Vance Corporation, Cassie. Your uncle is a pop superstar, and your aunt is even more incredible.】 【Go, Cassie, go! The Aunties will NOT let you end up a tragic heroine like your mom!】 1 I pulled the blanket down just enough to peek out, my little six-year-old brain trying to process the words. I didn’t know what a “tragic heroine” was, but I knew “Grandpa” and the “Vance Corporation.” Before Mom passed away, she gave me half of a torn photograph of him. She told me that if Dad ever stopped loving me, I should take the photo and find my grandpa. Back then, Dad had sworn it was impossible, promising he would never marry again. But now, he only had eyes for Joanna and the baby brother in her belly. He didn’t even notice when I tripped and fell right in front of him. And last week, when I had a 104-degree fever, our housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, called him over a dozen times with no answer. She finally had to risk getting fired by giving me fever medicine herself. That day, Mrs. Gable was crying and laughing at the same time. She said Mom must have been watching over me from heaven, keeping me from becoming a “little fool.” 2 As I hesitated, wondering if I should really go find a grandpa I’d never met, the Comments told me more. They said if I stayed, Joanna would only get crueler. They said that when I turned sixteen, my dad would go bankrupt, my grandpa’s family would be destroyed, and Joanna would sell me to a man named Damian Sterling before taking ten billion dollars and fleeing the country. “Damian… you mean Damian Sterling?” My eyes went wide. Damian was five years older than me. Every time we met at family functions, he made fun of me. I couldn’t understand why he would pay money for me. Didn’t he know that buying children was against the law? The Comments exploded with excitement at the sound of my voice. 【OMG! Seraphina was right! Cassie can see our comments!】 Seraphina? Mom? These Aunties knew my mom! 【Let’s go, girls! If Cassie can’t escape her fate, it’s because we didn’t try hard enough!】 【Don’t you worry. I’ve got plenty of experience dealing with scumbags. If Landon Reed and Damian Sterling don’t get what’s coming to them, my ex can use my head as a bowling ball.】 The Aunties went wild for a few moments before getting back on track. 【Cassie, you have to run! Damian is an even bigger monster than your dad!】 【In this whole story, only your grandpa is powerful enough to stand up to the Sterling family. In the original plot, your mom’s family tried to help you in secret. If you go to them now, they’ll definitely take you in.】 【Cassie, if you and your grandpa can save each other, that’s what your mom would want more than anything.】 Save Grandpa… is that what Mom would want? My little heart hammered against my ribs. I scrambled out of bed and found the box with the photo. In it, my handsome grandpa had a gentle smile, his beautiful eyes clear and bright, just like Mom’s. Staring into those familiar eyes, I made my decision. If Dad didn’t love me anymore, then tomorrow, I would go find my grandpa. 3 The next morning, I put on my little backpack, tucked the photo safely in my pocket, and snuck out of the house. 【Cassie is so cute today! She looks like a little doll with her backpack. But why is she walking to school by herself instead of waiting for the driver?】 【She’s not going to school, silly! She’s going to find her grandpa!】 【YES, CASSIE! Get away from your trash dad! Get away from this trash life!】 Trash dad… the Aunties were so right! Just this morning, Mrs. Gable told me Dad was planning to turn my princess room into a room for the new baby. Mom had decorated that room for me herself. He was just going to give it away without even asking me. It was so unfair! I clenched my little fists and marched away from home with new determination. The problem was, our house was in a gated community up in the hills. There were no buses or taxis. I had to walk all the way down the mountain, step by step. Luckily, with the Aunties’ comments keeping me company, I wasn’t scared at all. From their hints, I learned that Grandpa was still drowning in guilt over Mom’s death, and because of it, my uncle and aunt had grown distant from him. 【Cassie, if your grandpa, uncle, and aunt would just team up, neither the Reeds nor the Sterlings would stand a chance against them.】 “Team up with Grandpa, Uncle, and Aunt. Got it,” I whispered, looking up at the sky with a sweet smile. “Don’t worry, Aunties. Cassie remembers.” Suddenly, the Comments started scrolling so fast I could barely read them. 【CASSIE, RUN!】 【Mrs. Gable and the driver are coming out to look for you! Hide!】 【If they catch you, your dad and Joanna will send you away to the countryside!】 【Don’t panic, Cassie! There’s a small path to your left! Run down that path!】 4 I glanced to my left and saw it—a barely visible trail hidden in the bushes. It had rained yesterday, and the path was a mess of slick, deep mud. I hesitated. I was wearing my prettiest dress and my special princess shoes to meet Grandpa. If I took that path, they would be ruined. 【Go on, Cassie! Take that leap of faith! The Aunties are right here with you!】 【This is the last muddy path you’ll have to walk in your life, Cassie. Push through it! Your grandpa is waiting.】 【You can do it, sweetie!】 Seeing all the encouragement from the Aunties, I didn’t hesitate anymore. I took a deep breath and plunged into the bushes. The path was so, so hard to walk on. I fell five times. My arms and legs were scratched by branches, and I almost lost the photo of Grandpa. But I didn’t dare cry or stop. Finally, following the Comments’ guidance, I reached the massive, gleaming tower of the Vance Corporation. 【He’s here, Cassie! Grandpa is here!!!】 【He’s right at the main entrance!】 【This is it, Cassie! The moment that changes your destiny is NOW!】 The excited comments chased away my tears. I sniffled loudly, sucking back a runaway drip, and broke into a run, my little legs pumping as fast as they could. I spotted him immediately—my grandpa, looking powerful and distinguished, surrounded by people in suits. He was about to get into a car and didn’t see the small child hurtling toward him across the vast lobby. “Grandpa, wait for me!” I cried out, my voice small in the cavernous space. I was so scared he would leave that I wasn’t watching where I was going. My foot caught, and I went down, hard. Splat. It was over. I’d never reach him now. The thought hit me, and a huge, heartbroken sob escaped. “Waaaaah!” My crying, it turned out, got his attention. I heard his deep voice ask an assistant, “Robert, what is that… filthy… thing?” 5 A thing? Was his eyesight that bad? I’m not a thing, I’m Cassie! I scrambled back to my feet and waved with all my might. “Grandpa! I’m your granddaughter!” He turned, his sharp eyes finding me. He stared for a long moment. I got nervous. My face was a mess of tears and snot, but I did my best to smile, just like Dad always said Mom did—with my eyes crinkling into little crescent moons. It worked. He started walking toward me, his long strides closing the distance between us. He knelt down, pulling out a silk handkerchief and gently wiping the mud from my face. “Little one,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft, “what is your mother’s name?” I stopped crying and answered him seriously. “Grandpa, my mommy’s name is Seraphina Vance.” “Seraphina…” At the sound of her name, his eyes instantly turned red. He composed himself after a moment, but his gaze turned cold and dismissive. “You’re Landon Reed’s daughter? What are you doing here?” His harsh tone made my heart tremble, but I gathered my courage and held out the photo Mom gave me. “Grandpa, Mom said if Dad ever stopped loving me, I could bring this photo to you.” “Half a photo? Your mother tore it to pieces, and she had the nerve to give it to you as a keepsake? Let me tell you something. From the day she insisted on marrying that man, the Vance family no longer had a daughter named Seraphina. And I am not your grandfather!” He didn’t take me in. He just got angrier. He tossed the photo to the ground like it was trash. “Robert, call Landon Reed. Tell him to come get his daughter immediately.” What? He was going to send me back to my trash dad? No! I couldn’t go back! I started to panic, but the Aunties in the Comments rushed to my rescue. 【Cassie, he’s all bark and no bite! Just be sweet to him, and he’ll let you ride on his shoulders while you eat popcorn!】 【Roll up your sleeves! Show him your cuts! Your trash dad is about to have a very, very bad day.】 【HUG HIS LEG, CASSIE! HUG IT TIGHT!】 Hug his leg! Okay! I followed their instructions, dropping to the floor and wrapping my arms tightly around his leg. “Grandpa, please, please don’t call my dad!” I wailed. “He and Joanna will send me to the countryside! Joanna said she’s going to sell me!” As I spoke, I pulled up my sleeve. The stiff fabric of my princess dress scraped against a fresh cut, and I couldn’t help but hiss in pain. Grandpa went rigid. This time, he didn’t push me away. He knelt down again, his eyes locking onto my arm. “What is this? Are you hurt?” 6 【He’s worried!】 【The second he saw she was hurt, the act dropped completely!】 【It’s only natural. If a sweetheart like this was my granddaughter, I’d give her my life!】 The Aunties were celebrating, but I was too scared to move. Grandpa’s presence was overwhelming, and he still looked furious. “Is this how Landon Reed takes care of you? He dresses you in dirty, torn clothes and beats you black and blue?” Huh? He thought Dad did this? It was from when I fell. I was about to explain when a new comment popped up. 【Let Grandpa see the ‘truth,’ Cassie. These injuries are from Landon Reed.】 【If you can squeeze out a tear or two right now, Cassie, your grandpa will go to war for you.】 【Tell him everything, Cassie. Tell him how Joanna bullies you.】 Just thinking about Joanna sent a shiver down my spine. I didn’t have to squeeze. Tears started rolling down my cheeks all on their own. Before I could even get a word out, Grandpa was shrugging off his expensive suit jacket and draping it over my small shoulders. His expression turned dark and stormy. “Robert,” he commanded, his voice deadly calm, “inform Landon Reed that as of today, Cassie is no longer his daughter. Furthermore, I want a full report on the Reed Corporation’s latest investment portfolio. He dares to treat a Vance like this? I’ll make him pay three times over.” Pay? Grandpa was scary. I trembled, too frightened to speak. But the Aunties were ecstatic. 【Grandpa is such a badass! No wonder he’s my favorite character!】 【Does anyone else feel like this tragedy just turned into a revenge fantasy?】 【I suddenly can’t wait for Cassie’s uncle and aunt to get home.】 Home? But Grandpa hadn’t said I could stay with him yet. I gathered my courage and looked up at him. He was already looking at me, his eyes red-rimmed again. With one strong arm, he scooped me up. “Little girl, I’m only going to ask you this once. Do you want to go back to the Reeds, or do you want to come home with me to the Vances?” He wanted me to stay! I was so happy, but the tears just came faster. “The Vances! I want to go home with Grandpa! The other house is Joanna and Dad’s house now. Whenever I don’t listen to her, she threatens to throw me out.” I looked up at him, my voice a tiny whisper. “Grandpa, will you throw me out?” He didn’t answer. He just held my gaze, his voice turning to ice as he spoke to his assistant. “Robert. I want you to find out everything there is to know about this woman named Joanna.” 7 That day, Grandpa canceled all his meetings. He didn’t talk to me much, but he had Robert buy me over thirty new outfits, a trunk full of dolls and toys, and then he drove me back to his mansion himself. He stayed with me through dinner and had a maid give me a bath. The maid told me that Grandpa was usually the only one who lived in the huge house. My uncle only visited once or twice a year, and my aunt hadn’t been back in years. “Is Grandpa very lonely then?” I asked. “The Chairman is a very busy man. He isn’t home much, dear.” Oh. I looked down, a little disappointed. But after Mom left, I was used to being alone. It was okay. After my bath, Grandpa told me to meet him in his study. On my way, I passed a closed door on the second floor, and the Comments popped up. 【Cassie, that’s your mom’s room.】 【Even though Grandpa says he disowned her, he’s kept her room exactly as it was, waiting for her to come home.】 【You should ask for this room, Cassie. He’ll definitely let you have it.】 Really? I could sleep in Mom’s room? Excited, I ran into Grandpa’s study. He was reading a document and barely glanced up, but his cold gaze was enough to freeze me in place. “What’s your name,” he asked, his voice flat. “Grandpa, my name is Cassie Reed. Mom picked it out.” “Cassie Reed… Listen carefully. The only reason you’re staying here is because I won’t have the world thinking a Vance can be pushed around. But this house has rules. If you don’t follow them, you will be punished.” There was a long, thin ruler on his desk. I couldn’t help but shrink back. So that’s where Mom learned to tap my palm when I was naughty. He caught my small movement, and the faintest hint of a smile touched his lips. Seeing that his mood had improved, I took a chance. “Grandpa, can I sleep in Mom’s old room?” He frowned. “No.” “Then… can you sleep with me tonight?” “You’re too old to be sleeping with someone. Now, get out.” He was angry. I backed out of the study, my heart sinking. The moment the door closed, I started to wipe away my tears. The Aunties patiently explained. 【Give him some time, Cassie. Your mom’s death is a thorn in his heart.】 【Your mom was his favorite child, and you’re a miniature version of her. It’s not that he doesn’t love you; it’s that he’s afraid to.】 【You’ve already escaped your trash dad and stepmom, Cassie. That’s a huge win! We’ll take it slow. He’ll come around eventually.】 The Aunties were right. Grandpa was grumpy, but he wasn’t a bad person. If I was a good girl, he would learn to like me. That night, I slept soundly. I vaguely smelled the faint, comforting scent of cigars near my bed. I must have been dreaming of Grandpa because I missed him so much. But the next morning, my dad and Joanna, who were supposed to be on vacation in the Maldives, stormed into the Vance Corporation. Dad saw me standing behind Grandpa and his face lit up. He held out his hands. “Cassie, come here. Dad will take you home.” 8 “I… I want to stay with Grandpa.” I refused, tightening my grip on Grandpa’s hand. Grandpa let me hold on, a slow, arrogant smile spreading across his face. “You heard her, Landon. Cassie doesn’t want to go with you. She’s a Vance now.” He gave Robert a look. “Give him the custody agreement.” Robert handed two folders to my dad. “Mr. Reed, the first is the custody transfer agreement. The second is—” “Silas Vance, when did I ever agree to this? You and Seraphina cut ties years ago. You have no right to take Cassie.”

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I once “kept” a dancer. For a hundred thousand dollars and two years of her life, she surrendered all her dignity. Then, my world collapsed into bankruptcy and debt, while she rose, collecting championships and dazzling the world. The next time we met, my beat-up electric scooter crashed into her Maybach. 1 I still don’t know how I managed to hit the Maybach. The rain was a torrential downpour, and I was in a hurry, rushing a delivery of fresh fish to a restaurant. One moment of distraction, and then impact. As I hit the slick asphalt, the sight of the Maybach’s shattered headlight sent a chill through me that had nothing to do with the rain. Five thousand dollars. Minimum. The car door swung open, a silent wing in the roaring storm. I sat there, surrounded by the wreckage of my styrofoam boxes and the frantic, slapping bodies of escaping fish, a dull roar filling my ears. Wrong way on a one-way street, overloaded scooter. I was entirely at fault. A pair of women’s stilettos cut through the deluge, stopping just inches from my sprawled form. My voice was numb. “Sorry,” I mumbled, “I shouldn’t have turned here…” A flash of red sole followed as a man hurried over, his crisp voice laced with concern. “Hey, man, you alright?” The voice was familiar. I looked up and saw a handsome, impeccably sculpted face. It was Leo Vance, the A-list idol whose face was plastered across every magazine. And standing beside him, holding the umbrella, was Cora. The dancer who had been mine for two years. Three days earlier, the production crew for the reality show Hometown Echoes had descended upon my small town of Misty Hollow. Cora, the new star of the dance world, and Leo, the nation’s heartthrob, were the show’s headliners. The whole town was buzzing, every household hoping for a glimpse of the celebrities. I wanted no part of it. I had been actively avoiding them. Now, she knelt, her slender, porcelain fingers reaching out to remove my helmet. They brushed against my cheek, cool and deliberate. She stared at me, her voice as cold as mountain snow. “Once the damages are assessed, we’ll settle this by the book.” Leo tugged at her sleeve. “Cora, come on. Let it go. He looks like he’s having a rough time.” Cora rose to her full height, looking down at me as if from a great distance. “Everyone has to pay for their mistakes.” Which mistake was she talking about? Hitting her car? Shattering her dignity all those years ago? Or tempting her to taste a forbidden fruit? A bitter laugh escaped me. I pulled out my ID and handed it to her. “I’ll pay for my mistake,” I said. “But if you don’t mind, I need to deliver my fish. Don’t worry, you can hold onto this. I’m not going to run.” 2 A poor man has no time for self-pity. I found a styrofoam box that was mostly intact and began gathering the gasping fish, one by one. This was over two hundred dollars’ worth of product. I couldn’t afford to lose it. Hugging the box, I started to strap it to the back of my scooter, but a hand stopped me. In a single, fluid motion, Cora took the box from my arms and placed it in the trunk of her Maybach. “Get in. We’re going to the hospital.” I started to refuse, but her tone was absolute. “If you crash again on your way there, it’ll just complicate things.” I didn’t argue. Soaking wet, I climbed into the back of her car. Leo took the passenger seat, trying to break the heavy silence. “Hey, your English is perfect. You don’t sound like a local. Are you from out of town?” I nodded, my voice barely a whisper. “Yeah.” “Misty Hollow is my hometown, actually,” he went on, oblivious to the tension. “Lived here when I was a little kid.” I knew. Hometown Echoes took each guest back to their roots, and Misty Hollow was the final stop. The tabloids were all saying Cora and Leo were going to make their relationship official here. “So what brought you to Misty Hollow?” he asked with a friendly smile. “Fall for one of the local girls?” The ringing in my head was getting worse, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I just wanted him to stop talking. I gave a noncommittal grunt. “Mmm.” In the rearview mirror, I saw Cora’s eyes. They were like frozen pools, sharp and unforgiving. The car suddenly accelerated, pressing me back into the plush leather. When we arrived at the restaurant, Cora got out and carried the box of fish inside without a word. Al, the owner, stared, his eyes wide. He pulled me aside, whispering, “Isn’t that… you know who? Looks like that Olympic skier, the world champion! What’s she doing delivering fish for you?” “You’re seeing things,” I lied, my voice low. “She’s just a cousin of mine, here on vacation.” I turned and met Cora’s gaze. It was as deep and dark as a well. I shouldn’t have told that lie. I had said those exact words once before. The first summer she was with me, I took her to a friend’s birthday party. Someone had slung an arm around me, smirking. “Well, Rhys. This one’s a knockout. How much did she cost you?” Cora had gone rigid, humiliation coloring her cheeks. I’d swirled the wine in my glass, leaning casually against her shoulder. “What are you talking about?” I’d drawled. “She’s just a cousin of mine.” 3 Cora dropped off the fish and wordlessly returned to the car. The hospital was only five minutes away. I filled out the paperwork at the front desk while Cora, now wearing a mask and a baseball cap, leaned against a railing nearby. In my memory, she was always standing just like that. Quietly waiting outside my window, in the corner of a room, in a field of snow, or on a silent beach. Four years, and it was as if nothing had changed. The image of the slender, poised woman before me blurred with the girl from my past. My mind drifted back to a scorching summer afternoon. She stood on the veranda, straight and proud as a young poplar tree. Her faded floral blouse and washed-out jeans couldn’t hide the perfect lines of her body—a portrait of desperate poverty and defiant youth. I was inside, behind the floor-to-ceiling window, my brush capturing the sun-kissed skin of her arms and legs. She had come looking for her father, my family’s chauffeur, begging for money for her grandfather’s medical bills. He’d refused her. I gave her two thousand dollars to be my model for the day. She accepted. The scene shifted. A ski resort. Cora’s life was a constant struggle. She worked multiple jobs—ski instructor, swimming coach, delivery driver—all to pay for her grandfather’s mounting hospital fees. I pretended I couldn’t ski and hired her as my private instructor. She was quiet, reserved, speaking only when it was about technique. The night before I left, she brought my skis to my room. Flushed with alcohol, I leaned in and whispered in her ear, asking if she wanted an easier life. She just frowned, shook her head, and refused. Then came the rainy night. She called me. “Mr. Archer,” she’d said, her voice tight, “are you… still interested in me?” When I arrived at the ICU, she was hunched over, clutching a bill with an astronomical figure, leaning against the sterile hallway wall like a pine tree broken by the weight of snow. I reached for her, but my hand closed on empty air. In my disoriented state, I called out, “Cora.” My fingers finally found something to grip. A stranger’s voice cut through the fog. “It’s nothing serious. A mild concussion. Just get some rest for a few days.” My own voice, slurred and distant, answered automatically. “I have to sell fish tomorrow.” “Absolutely not,” the doctor said. “You need to rest.” “It’s not tiring.” My vision slowly sharpened. I was in a hospital bed, and my hand was clenched tightly around Cora’s. A hot flush of embarrassment washed over me. I let go. 4 The hour of observation in that hospital bed felt like an eternity on a hot griddle. Leo had to leave for an urgent matter with the show, leaving just Cora and me in the sterile, silent room. The only sound was the relentless tick-tock of the wall clock. I pretended to be dizzy and turned over, facing the wall, my back to her. But I could feel her eyes on me, sharp as needles. “I’m fine,” I finally said, breaking the silence. “You should go. You must be busy.” After a moment, her cold voice replied, “Can’t you even say, ‘It’s been a long time’?” She was right. It was basic courtesy. “Yeah, it has been a long time,” I said. “You seem to be doing well, so I didn’t feel the need to ask.” “And how, exactly, did you determine that I’m ‘doing well’?” I pulled the thin blanket tighter around me. “It’s obvious, isn’t it? You’re a world champion, a huge star. You’re doing better than ninety-five percent of the people on this planet.” “Are you doing well?” she asked. “I’m fine. I have enough to eat.” She fell silent. As she was leaving, a nurse recognized her, and she was instantly swarmed by fans asking for autographs. I didn’t wait. I just left. Back at my small courtyard home, Mrs. Gable was waiting anxiously at the gate. “Rhys, dear! Are you alright? Why are you wearing… is that a Gucci tracksuit?” Before he left, Leo had insisted I change out of my wet clothes, worried I’d catch a cold. “I ran into a kind person,” I said. “They lent it to me.” Mrs. Gable didn’t press, her face beaming. “Hurry inside! Dinner’s ready, and Maya’s waiting. And guess what? I made seventy-five dollars today from my eyebrow-shaping livestream! Once I get more followers, I’ll be making real money. Then you won’t have to sell fish anymore. You can just focus on your painting.” Hearing my voice, Maya, my little sister, came running out and grabbed my hand, her words tumbling out in a rush of excitement. “Brother, guess what we’re having for dinner! Spicy river shrimp! Mom caught them in the creek with a net!” I didn’t mention the five-thousand-dollar repair bill hanging over my head. And Mrs. Gable didn’t mention that the landlord had come by again, demanding the rent. 5 Late that night, I pulled a worn, white notebook from a paint-splattered drawer. It was filled with names. Some were crossed out, their debts repaid. Others, those in desperate need, were marked with a star. They were the workers injured in the explosion. Years ago, my family’s chemical plant had a catastrophic accident. The casualties were staggering. My father was held liable and sentenced to five years in prison. All our assets were liquidated for compensation, and it still wasn’t enough. The last time I visited him in prison, he wept. “Rhys, your sister is so young, and your stepmother has no way to support herself. Please, take care of them for me. As for the debts… wait for me to get out. I’ll find a way.” As I left, I squeezed his hand. “I will.” For years, I’ve spent every penny I had, sold my art for next to nothing, and worked day and night to compensate the victims. It was never enough. Some were worse off than me, their calls for help always hesitant and apologetic. Others were filled with rage, calling regularly to curse my entire family. As I was trying to decide who to pay this week, an unknown number lit up my phone. It was Cora. “Rhys. I’m outside.” Hearing my name on her lips felt both familiar and strangely alien. I froze. “It’s too late. It’s not a good time.” “The estimate for the headlight is in,” she said. “Just tell me the amount. You have my ID. I told you I’d pay.” Her voice grew colder. “Don’t you want your scooter back?” In the faint moonlight, Cora stood alone under the willow tree by the creek. She looked elegant, distant, and completely out of place next to the battered, paint-chipped electric scooter. I had no idea how she’d gotten it here; it wouldn’t have fit in her trunk. I stayed by the gate. “Thanks for bringing it back,” I said. “You could have just left it. People in this town are honest. No one would have stolen it.” I paused. “How much for the headlight?” She walked toward me, casting a long shadow that swallowed me whole. The feeling of being cornered made me take an involuntary step back. She stared into my eyes, then her gaze dropped to my lips. “Can you afford to pay me right now?” I couldn’t. In my white notebook of debts, Cora’s name wouldn’t even appear in the first thirty pages. “Give me some time,” I said. “I’ll pay you back.” Cora’s voice was a whisper of ice. “You have another option.” “Remember that little game we played when we first met? Two thousand dollars for a day. The headlight is five thousand. You give me three days.” 6 Everyone has to pay for their mistakes. I finally understood what she meant. An eye for an eye. Three days. A game… My throat went dry. She let out a short, sharp laugh. “Relax. I have no intention of sleeping with you.” The knot in my chest loosened. “Fine,” I said. Five thousand dollars was a fortune to me now. Besides, I didn’t want to be entangled with her any longer than necessary. I got in the car. She drove, fast, up the winding mountain road to a villa perched on the hillside. I knew the place; I could see it from my little courtyard. It used to belong to a foreign photographer, then sat empty for two years. Someone bought it six months ago but had rarely been seen. So, it was her. I remembered the gossip from the kid at the vegetable stall—that Misty Hollow was Leo Vance’s childhood home, that he and Cora were going to announce their relationship here. She must have bought it for him. I hesitated at the front door. She glanced back. “What? Having second thoughts?” “I still have Leo’s clothes,” I said quietly. I had no idea what she was planning, but whatever it was, this felt wrong. I was trying to remind her she had a boyfriend. Cora pushed the door open, her voice fading as she walked inside. “You can keep them. He has plenty of clothes.” I took a deep breath and followed her in. The villa was cavernous and cold, showing no signs of being lived in. In the vast, empty living room, Cora poured herself a glass of wine. She walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, sipping her drink as she gazed at the twinkling lights of the town below. I stood awkwardly in the center of the room. “What do you want me to do?” My question was met with a long, heavy silence. I asked again. “Cora, what do you—” “Take off your clothes,” she said. I froze. Years ago, I had poured a glass of wine just like that and told her to do the same thing. I had paid off her grandfather’s hundred-thousand-dollar medical bill, and in return, she had packed a bag and come to the address I gave her. My private art studio. She stood nervously in the enormous glass-walled room. I had studied her, paintbrush in hand. “Take off your clothes,” I’d commanded. The blood drained from her face as she stripped, piece by piece. When she was down to her underwear, her hands were clenched so tightly her knuckles were white. “All of it,” I’d said. … Life’s reversals are cruel and swift. Back then, I never imagined our positions would ever be so completely flipped. My voice was steady. “We agreed you weren’t—” “I said I wouldn’t sleep with you,” she cut in, her tone still unnervingly calm. “And I won’t.” “Then why are you asking me to undress? I may be broke, but I won’t be put on display for five thousand dollars.” I had made her undress to paint her. What was her reason? To humiliate me? She walked towards me, her presence overwhelming. She leaned in, her lips close to my ear, her voice a low murmur. “What about fifty thousand? Five hundred thousand? Or five million?” Fifty thousand could pay for the plastic surgery for the daughter of one of the workers, whose face was horribly burned. Five hundred thousand could give two dozen families a chance to breathe. Five million… five million could erase more than half the names in my white notebook. I didn’t hesitate. I started unbuttoning my shirt.

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I woke up in a hospital, my head full of memories that weren’t mine. I’m Zoe Caldwell, sole heiress to the Caldwell Corporation—and now the villain in a cliché novel. My scripted fate was fighting our housekeeper’s daughter over a man, ending in disgrace and ruin. I touched the gauze on my forehead, then saw the zeros in my bank account. Give up this fortune for a guy? Was I insane? From then on, the story derailed. Innocent Luna crying? I don’t do passive-aggressive—I read bank statements. Ethan in love? Love’s exhausting. Here’s five million—go learn a lesson. Guilt-tripping relatives? Meet my lawyers. Let’s talk “equal before the law.” They said I had money, not soul. I said, “Perfect. Love hurts. Money’s my armor.” This is a rich woman crushing every snake in her path—brutally and simply. Don’t reason with me. It costs too much. 1 I opened my eyes to a stark white ceiling. The air hung thick with the sterile scent of antiseptic. A figure in a white coat hovered over me, his mouth moving. “Miss Caldwell, you’re awake. Are you feeling any discomfort?” I ignored him, my mind replaying a trashy TV drama on a loop. The show was called The Billionaire’s Contract Bride. The heroine was Luna Hayes, the daughter of the housekeeper my mother had hired. True to her name, she was the picture of fragile innocence, the kind of girl who looked like a strong breeze could knock her over and whose eyes would well up at a harsh word. The hero was Ethan Vance, the man I’d been engaged to since we were kids. He was handsome, wealthy, and completely blind. And I, Zoe Caldwell, was the villainess. The one who relentlessly framed Luna to win Ethan’s affection, only to be driven to bankruptcy by him and die a miserable death under a city overpass. I digested all of this with a blank expression. The doctor was still rambling beside me. “Miss Caldwell, you fell down the stairs. You have a mild concussion and will need to stay for a few days of observation.” A middle-aged woman threw herself at my bedside, grabbing my hand as tears streamed down her face on command. “Zoe, you scared me to death! Why do you have to pick on Luna? She’s Mrs. Hayes’s daughter! How could you push her down the stairs? And look at you, you’re the one who got hurt the worst!” This was my mother, a quintessential high-society wife whose universe revolved around flower arranging, spa days, and—most importantly—”not embarrassing the family.” I pulled my hand free. “I didn’t push her.” My mother froze, then her brow furrowed. “It was all on camera! Are you still going to deny it? If Ethan hadn’t shielded Luna, she’d be the one lying in this bed!” Oh, right. That’s how the script went. In the original story, I’d seen Ethan and Luna having an intense moment in the stairwell. I went to confront them, Luna lost her footing, and Ethan didn’t hesitate, diving to become her human cushion. In the process, they knocked me over, and I was the one who tumbled down the flight of stairs, becoming a laughingstock. The doctor tried to mediate. “Mrs. Caldwell, the patient has just woken up. It’s best to avoid any emotional distress.” My mother toned it down slightly, but she was still muttering, “Ethan has already made it clear. He wants to call off the engagement with our family. Honestly, Zoe, why are you such a disappointment?” Her voice was a grating noise in my ears. My father, the chairman of the Caldwell Corporation, was standing a short distance away, his voice low as he spoke on the phone. But I could still catch keywords like “Vance,” “the project,” and “merger.” See? These were my parents. One cared only about appearances, the other only about profit. Whether their daughter was alive or dead, in pain or not, seemed to be a trivial detail. Fine by me. It made things simpler. No need to pretend there was any real affection between us. I pushed myself into a sitting position, my head still spinning. “My phone.” My mother handed it over, her face a mask of disapproval. “What are you planning now? I’m warning you, Zoe, don’t you dare go harassing Ethan again!” I said nothing, unlocking the screen and dialing a number. The call connected almost instantly. “Zoe? How are you?” It was Ethan’s voice—magnetic, but laced with an undeniable thread of impatience and distance. “I’m fine,” I said, my voice a little hoarse. “Ethan, where are you?” He paused. “I’m with Luna. She’s shaken up. The doctor said she needs someone with her.” “Oh,” I nodded. “I need you to come here. We’ll talk in person.” “Talk about what? Zoe, I have nothing to say to you. Our engagement is over.” His voice turned to ice. “Exactly. That’s what we need to talk about,” I said calmly. “Come over, and we’ll sign the annulment papers.” Dead silence on the other end of the line. My father had finished his call and was now staring at me, his expression grim. My mother looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “Zoe, what nonsense are you talking!” Ethan’s voice finally came through again, thick with disbelief. “What did you say? Sign papers?” “That’s right,” I said. “It’s mutual. A clean break. You come here, I sign, and we go our separate ways. You won’t have to worry about me bothering your precious little flower ever again.” He sounded like he was choking. After a long moment, he said, “Fine. I’ll be there.” The line went dead. My mother pointed a trembling finger at me. “Zoe, did you hit your head too hard? Do you have any idea what breaking this engagement will do to our family?” My father strode over, his face livid. “This is absurd! Call Ethan right now and apologize!” I looked at them and found the situation almost funny. “The impact? You mean the Southside Redevelopment Project? Is the Caldwell Corporation going to crumble without the Vances?” My father was speechless. “Apologize?” I continued. “For what? Because he protected another woman and sent me flying down a flight of stairs? Dad, Mom, did you forget? I’m your daughter.” They both just stared, stunned. Perhaps because I had never, ever spoken to them in that tone before. I couldn’t be bothered to look at them anymore. I leaned back against the headboard and closed my eyes. The concussion was starting to kick in, a dull throb behind my eyes. But my mind was crystal clear. To hell with the scumbag hero, to hell with the saintly heroine, and to hell with the villainess script. I was rich, beautiful, and the future heiress to a multi-billion-dollar corporation. Chase a man? Please. A man would only slow down the speed at which I could spend my money. 2 Ethan arrived quickly. Trailing behind him was Luna, the “helpless” heroine herself. She was wearing a simple white dress, her face tear-streaked and her eyes red. The moment she saw me, she shrank behind Ethan, putting on a masterful performance of a terrified victim. She was a natural. A shame she wasn’t an actress; she’d win awards. Ethan shielded her protectively, like a knight guarding his princess. He frowned at me, his brow so furrowed you could lose a fly in it. “Zoe, what kind of game are you playing now?” The moment my parents saw him, their faces transformed. “Ethan, dear, you’re here. Zoe is just confused right now, don’t mind her,” my mother said, her smile sickeningly sweet. “That’s right,” my father chimed in. “Kids throw tantrums. Don’t take it seriously.” Ignoring my parents’ frantic damage control, I pulled a document from the bedside table and tossed it to Ethan. “Here. The annulment agreement. My lawyer already drafted it. Take a look. If there are no issues, sign it.” Ethan glanced down at the papers, and his expression became a fascinating mix of shock, confusion, and the offended anger of a man whose ego had just been bruised. He was probably so used to me chasing after him that my sudden, decisive action was more than he could process. Luna peeked out from behind him and whispered, “Zoe… please don’t be like this. I know you hate me. It’s all my fault. Don’t take it out on Ethan. I’ll… I’ll leave.” As she spoke, fresh tears began to fall. I looked at her and asked with genuine curiosity, “Leave? To where? Are you leaving the city? Should I book you a flight? One-way or round trip?” Luna’s sobs caught in her throat. Ethan’s face darkened. “Zoe, that’s enough! Luna is a kind person. Don’t project your own twisted thoughts onto her!” “Kind?” I repeated the word. “Is ‘kind’ living in my family’s house, spending my family’s money, and seducing my fiancé? The bar for kindness seems pretty low these days.” “That’s not true!” Luna retorted, her voice trembling with emotion. “Ethan and I are truly in love!” “Oh, true love.” I nodded as if in sudden understanding. “Well, that’s perfect. I’m setting you free. Sign the papers, and he’s all yours. You two can go wherever you want, and no one will ever stand in your way.” Ethan stared at me, his eyes searching my face for any sign that this was a trick. “What do you really want?” “I want you to sign this document and get out of my life. Is that so hard to understand?” I cleaned my ear with my pinky. “Or are you perhaps reluctant to give up the benefits of a merger between the Vance and Caldwell fortunes?” That hit a nerve. His expression turned ugly. “Zoe, don’t you regret this.” He snatched a pen and scrawled his name on the document, pressing so hard he nearly tore through the paper. He threw the agreement back at me. “As you wish.” I took it, glanced at the signature, and nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent. As of this moment, we’re even.” My parents looked like they were about to have a collective aneurysm. “Zoe!” “You’re out of your mind!” I ignored them and turned to my assistant, Laura. “Laura, please show our guests out.” Ethan took Luna’s hand and started to leave, but he paused at the door and looked back at me, his eyes filled with a complex emotion. “Zoe, don’t think this little stunt will get my attention. It won’t work.” I laughed. “Mr. Vance, you’re overthinking things. I just realized… you’re not good enough for me.” His face instantly turned blacker than the bottom of a scorched pot. I didn’t spare him another glance. Instead, I pulled a checkbook from my purse, wrote out a series of numbers, tore out the check, and held it out to the still-sniffling Luna. “Here. Take this.” Luna just stared at it, not moving. Ethan frowned. “What are you doing now?” “A severance package,” I said simply. Everyone froze. I pressed the check into Luna’s hand, my tone surprisingly gentle. “Five million dollars. The pin is six zeros. Take this money, start a small business, buy a house, whatever. Just don’t ever show your face in front of me again. And tell your mother to stop working as our housekeeper. It’s not just awkward for you; her presence has become an embarrassment to me.” Luna’s fingers trembled, the check feeling like a hot coal in her hand. “I… I can’t take this! I’m not doing this for money!” “I know you’re not here for the money, you’re here for love,” I said with profound understanding. “But love doesn’t pay the bills. Take it. Consider it my wedding gift to you and Ethan. After all, I was a witness to your great love story.” I finished and looked back at Ethan. “What’s wrong? Is your ‘true love’ only worth this much? Or did you think it wasn’t enough?” Ethan was so furious he was speechless, his handsome face flushed a deep red. He had probably never been so humiliated in his life. To have a price tag put on his great romance was the ultimate insult. But that was exactly my intention. Talk about feelings with you people who live in a fantasy world? Sorry, I only talk money. It’s simple, direct, and incredibly effective. My breakup with Ethan, combined with the betrayal of my best friend, made me the talk of the town. The rumors were flying. Some said the shock had driven me insane. Others whispered that the Caldwell Corporation was on the brink of bankruptcy. And then there were those who claimed I, heartbroken and scorned, was on the verge of becoming a full-blown villainess. I had to laugh. Insane? I’d never been clearer in my life. Bankruptcy? Please. I’d just dropped eighty million on a diamond at auction yesterday like I was buying candy. As for being a villainess… I kind of liked the sound of that. A few days later, an invitation to a charity gala arrived. The host was a prominent socialite, a Mrs. Davenport. In the past, I would have attended on Ethan’s arm, a pretty accessory listening silently as he networked. But now? I was the powerhouse. That evening, I arrived alone, dressed in a striking crimson couture gown. The moment I walked in, every eye in the room was on me. I saw surprise, contempt, and a whole lot of morbid curiosity. I ignored it all, made a beeline for the buffet, and started filling a plate. I’d had a long day, and I was starving. As I was eating, Mrs. Davenport glided over, a champagne flute in her hand. “Zoe, darling, it’s been too long. You look absolutely stunning,” she purred, her smile perfectly pleasant. “You’re too kind, Mrs. Davenport,” I said, spearing a piece of foie gras. “I heard you’ve been through… a difficult time recently,” she continued, feigning concern. “With Ethan… oh, it’s such a shame.” “Nothing shameful about it. When you have trash, you take it out. You don’t save it for a special occasion, do you?” Mrs. Davenport’s smile froze on her face. A few of the women nearby who had been shamelessly eavesdropping suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “You have such a sense of humor, Zoe,” she said with a dry laugh before getting to the point. “Tonight’s gala is to raise funds for underprivileged children in rural areas. As a successful young woman from such a prominent family, I do hope you’ll contribute generously.” Here it comes. The guilt trip. I swallowed my food and looked at her. “I’m happy to contribute. But I have a rule when I donate.” “Oh? And what’s that?” she asked, intrigued. “I need to know where every single penny goes,” I stated. “Mrs. Davenport, would it be possible for us donors to review your foundation’s financial records?” The air went still. Mrs. Davenport’s expression soured. “Zoe, what are you implying? Are you questioning our foundation?” “I’m not questioning anything,” I replied, my face a picture of sincerity. “I’m simply exercising my right as a donor to be informed. It’s a reasonable request, isn’t it? After all, our money doesn’t grow on trees. We donate because we want to help those in need, not to line someone’s pockets so they can buy designer handbags and jewelry.” My voice wasn’t loud, but in the quiet hall, it carried. Whispers erupted around us. Mrs. Davenport’s face turned a shade of beet red. “You… How dare you! Our foundation’s books are impeccable!” “Then let’s see them,” I said, holding my hands out. “If they’re so clean, you have nothing to hide. Unless, of course, you do.” “You!” She was sputtering with rage. Just then, a man with a protruding belly stepped in, placing a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Miss Caldwell, must you be so aggressive? We’re all here for charity, to do some good. There’s no need to make things ugly.” “Ugly?” I shot back. “I think auditing financial records is standard procedure. Are you telling me that transparency is an ugly thing, Mr. Davenport?” “You’re just here to cause trouble!” he snapped. “Trouble?” I laughed. “Alright. If you think I’m causing trouble, I’ll see myself out.” I set down my plate and turned to leave. Everyone assumed I was retreating in defeat. A triumphant smirk even appeared on Mrs. Davenport’s face. I paused at the doorway, turned back, and offered the entire room a brilliant smile. “Oh, I almost forgot to mention. Half an hour ago, I had my assistant send a full dossier of evidence detailing your ‘charity’ foundation’s fraudulent accounting and tax evasion to the IRS and the State Attorney General’s office.” The room erupted. The Davenports’ faces went deathly pale. “And by the way,” I continued, “donating to children is a wonderful cause. That’s why I’ve already made a direct three-million-dollar donation from the Caldwell Corporation to the official Appalachian Children’s Fund. The funds are earmarked, ensuring every cent goes directly to the kids.” I locked eyes with the horrified Mrs. Davenport and delivered my final line. “Charity is a noble cause, Mrs. Davenport. It shouldn’t be a designer handbag to cover up the rot of people enriching themselves. Don’t you agree?” With that, I turned my back on the chaos and walked out, the clicks of my heels echoing in the stunned silence. The wind outside was brisk. And I felt fantastic.

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1 My fiancée seemed to forget I didn’t become her fiancé by luck. When she called me “polished” on our third anniversary, I knew—she’d fallen for that rugged intern. I watched them grow close and did nothing. I simply warned her before the engagement party: fire him, or it’s over. She hesitated and ran off. She returned later, a handprint faint on her cheek. “The engagement is on.” But at the altar, in her wedding gown, she froze when she saw me. “You’re not the man I want,” she said, trembling. She lifted her skirt and ran—right into Rhys, the intern, at the door. They clung together, kissing wildly, leaving me alone before the crowd. Phones lit up the church with flashes and laughter. In ten minutes, “CEO Jilted at Altar” trended everywhere. She wanted love? Fine. But was she ready for the cost? Thirty minutes later, Habsburg Corp. was collapsing. … My secretary burst into my office. “Mr. Blackwood, news of the Habsburg Corporation’s capital chain snapping has hit the media. Their stock is in freefall.” “If this continues, they’ll start layoffs by tomorrow and declare bankruptcy within the week.” “Too slow,” I said, my voice flat. This was merely an appetizer. “I’ll push them harder.” As my secretary left, I looked at a news photo of Chloe Habsburg’s ecstatic face in Rhys’s arms. I gave a short, self-deprecating laugh. I had given her a choice. She chose to lie. My reputation—Liam Blackwood’s reputation—is worth billions. My finger tapped the screen of my tablet, swiping to the stock market app. The Habsburg Corporation’s ticker was a sea of red. A notification popped up. It was Chloe. “Liam, you can’t force feelings. Just because I won’t marry you, you’re going to destroy my family’s company?” “If you ever loved me, you should be happy I’ve found true love. Can’t we just part amicably?” Amicably? Why didn’t she think of that before she made a spectacle of me? I swiped her message away and sent a text to my secretary. “Dig into Rhys. Everything.” Ten minutes later, my phone lit up with his file. I studied it for a long moment, a ghost of a smile playing on my lips. A sharp knock came at my office door. Chloe strode in, her heels clicking on the marble floor. She slapped a file down on my desk. “Liam, I never realized how petty you could be.” “This is your compensation. Let’s consider the matter closed.” I picked up the file. A stock transfer agreement. Ten percent of her family’s failing company? A paltry three million dollars? She thought that could appease my fury? I let the papers flutter to the floor. “Is this a joke?” I sneered. “Are you trying to tip a beggar?” Her face hardened. “Don’t be so greedy, Liam.” With a flick of her hips, she turned to leave. At the door, she naturally linked her arm with Rhys, who had been waiting for her. They leaned in close, whispering, their lips almost touching. My phone buzzed. A message from my secretary. “The Habsburg Corporation has officially filed for bankruptcy.” “Begin the acquisition,” I texted back. I switched off the screen. Outside, the sky had grown heavy, and a soft rain began to fall. It was on a rainy day three years ago that I’d saved Chloe from an arranged marriage she’d desperately wanted to escape. She’d claimed it was love at first sight. She’d sworn she would never betray me. Now, it was clear she was not only disloyal but a fool. She wasn’t fit to be my dog. My phone rang, the sound jarring in the quiet office. Chloe’s voice, sharp and accusatory, cut through the silence. “It was you, wasn’t it? Liam, I know you’re doing this because you’re hurt, but it only makes me despise you more! It proves I was right to leave you!” I set down my pen, my posture relaxed. “Ms. Habsburg, these are just normal market fluctuations. Why must you blame me for everything? As for being hurt…” I chuckled, my tone dripping with contempt. “You really do flatter yourself.” There was a pause on the other end, then her voice came back, hoarse. “If you spare the company, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.” I hung up. The Habsburg Corporation was finished. The only way she could make it up to me was to be reborn. But in a civilized society, I couldn’t be quite so violent. My secretary entered again, his expression hesitant. “Sir, you should see what’s happening online.” I opened my browser. There was Chloe, weeping, her face a mask of tragic beauty. The headline read: “Groomed CEO’s Dark Secret: ‘He Has… Issues.’” The article was a thinly veiled hit piece. “Liam Blackwood seems perfect on the surface, but he’s a deeply damaged man,” she was quoted as saying. “Do you think I would give up being the wife of a CEO if our life together was even remotely bearable?” The rumors spread like locusts. A new text from her arrived. “Men care about their pride more than anything. Stop this attack on my family, and I’ll clear your name.” A smirk touched my lips. She was an idiot. The prize in my hand versus the buzzing of gnats. The choice was obvious to anyone but her. Only a fool would trade substance for reputation. I was about to leave for the Habsburg Corporation to finalize the acquisition when Rhys appeared at my office door. “Mr. Blackwood, stop tormenting Chloe! If you have a problem, take it out on me!” he declared dramatically. “It’s all my fault. I’ll pay with my life. I hope that after I’m gone, you’ll be kinder to her.” Before anyone could react, he scrambled onto the windowsill of my top-floor office. Employees in the hallway stopped, their faces a mixture of shock and morbid curiosity. My own face was a mask of ice. My corporate headquarters had become a circus. Who were these people who thought they could just walk in and put on a show? Sirens wailed from the street below. Police cars were already arriving. A crowd was gathering. Just then, the elevator doors opened and Chloe rushed out, a gaggle of reporters in her wake. The moment she saw me, she collapsed to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “Liam, please, let us go! I know you hate me, but Rhys is innocent!” “Yes, you’re rich and powerful! You’ve already destroyed my family’s company, isn’t that enough?” she screamed. “My father is on the verge of a heart attack, my mother is in the hospital, and now you’re going to drive Rhys to his death? Are you that heartless?” Phones were raised. Whispers filled the air. Even the reporters behind her looked at me with pity. One of them spoke up. “Mr. Blackwood, surely you can show some mercy.” On social media, the hashtag #LiamBlackwoodTheBully was skyrocketing. I took a step forward, looking down at Rhys, who was still perched precariously on the ledge. “You really think I’m the one pushing you?” Rhys didn’t answer, but a flash of triumph crossed his face as he leaned in and hissed, “It doesn’t matter what I think. You’re finished.” He smirked. “Chloe chose me, even if it meant losing everything. How pathetic does that make you? If I were you, I’d have jumped long ago.” I had no intention of jumping. But he, on the other hand, slammed his head against the window frame. Blood trickled from his temple. “Liam, your threats won’t work!” he cried out, his voice trembling, his eyes red-rimmed. “Do you need to see me dead before you’re satisfied?” Gasps erupted from behind me. Chloe, as if on cue, scrambled to her feet and lunged for the window. “If he dies, I die! Life has no meaning without Rhys!” Together, they tumbled out into the open air. Panic and screams filled the hallway. I walked to the window and looked down. A massive inflatable safety cushion had been deployed on the street below. They landed squarely in the middle of it. So that was their plan. No wonder they were so bold. The reporters went into a frenzy, their cameras flashing, livestream feeds focused on the two lovers embracing on the cushion below. How tragically beautiful. Star-crossed lovers. A testament to true love. Those became their labels. And I was the cold-blooded villain, the corporate monster who crushed them. Blackwood Holdings’ stock began to slide. I was a pariah. Protesters gathered outside my building every day, throwing trash at my car whenever I came or went. My private residence was flooded with funeral wreaths sent by anonymous “well-wishers.” Other tenants in my building demanded my eviction. My secretary was worried. “Sir, morale is plummeting. We’re seeing a wave of resignations.” I narrowed my eyes. “Let them go.” A text from Chloe came through, dripping with smugness: “Scared yet? Apologize publicly, restore my family’s company, and give me a billion dollars, and I might consider helping you.” I tossed the phone onto my desk and ignored it. To think she could force my hand with such a cheap, pathetic melodrama was laughable. Even if Chloe Habsburg was ground to dust, Blackwood Holdings would not be affected in the slightest. Then, new photos surfaced online. Chloe, “escaping” after an alleged “kidnapping.” Her hair was a mess, her clothes were torn, and she tearfully accused me of orchestrating it. She also posted a photo of Rhys, unconscious and covered in fake blood, with the caption: “Leave us alone, Liam! Take my life if you want, but don’t you dare touch Rhys!” The public outrage exploded anew. The comments were a firestorm of people tagging the police, demanding an investigation into my “criminal empire.” Amateur essayists wrote passionate screeds about the injustice of it all. At the next board meeting, the shareholders were restless. They demanded my temporary suspension. I leaned back in my chair, unruffled. “If I step down, who do you propose to take my place?” They exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, my own uncle, Marcus Blackwood, stood up. “Liam, the company needs a scapegoat. This all started with you. The honorable thing to do is resign.” “As for the company,” he added with false magnanimity, “I can manage things in your stead for a while.” A cynical smile touched my lips. Before I could speak, a young woman stood. “If Blackwood Holdings refuses to distance itself from Mr. Blackwood’s actions, I will be forced to take my division and secede from the parent company.” The woman leading the revolt was none other than Chloe’s best friend, Isabelle Reed. “I cannot, in good conscience, be a part of such a morally bankrupt enterprise,” she declared. I stared at her, amused. If Chloe hadn’t begged me on her knees, this woman, with her community college degree, would never have risen to her current position. She knew it, yet she put on this grand show of righteousness. The boardroom doors opened, and Chloe walked in, Rhys at her side. “Well, Mr. Blackwood? It’s not too late to accept my terms,” she said, her voice filled with triumph. “Get on your knees and apologize. If I’m in a good mood, I might even leave you with some pocket money.” On the projector screen, our stock price continued to plummet. The shareholders grew more desperate. I pushed the papers on the table into a neat pile. “Are you finished?” I asked calmly. “Then it’s my turn.” Chloe stared at me, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. I pressed the enter key on my laptop.

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I was escorting a prisoner on a flight piloted by my boyfriend when his childhood friend insisted we move the inmate to first class. For her, my boyfriend delayed takeoff. “Ma’am, I believe you’re threatening the passenger beside you. If you don’t move, this flight will be delayed. Can you compensate everyone?” she said, self-righteous. I showed my badge, but she ignored it, claiming policy forbid checking IDs. Furious, I called for the chief attendant—my boyfriend’s sister. She defended her friend and accused me of causing trouble. Her friend Sarah provoked me: “I heard there’s a criminal onboard. Is it you? Is that man your next target?” I slapped her. She’d just revealed classified prisoner transport to 186 people. My boyfriend Jake emerged from the cockpit. After hearing their side, he restrained me without a word. I looked at him, cold. “Are you really willing to throw away your career for this?” This was a suspect our department had spent three years tracking. Fifty-three officers had died to bring him in. Jake knew better than anyone how dangerous this man was, how many lives had been lost. And now, he was siding with these people. At my words, Jake flinched. His brow furrowed with indecision. Sarah immediately clung to his arm. “Jake, if we get a formal complaint from all 186 passengers, we’ll all be fired! You have to think about the entire crew!” Jake’s sister, Molly, looked at him with wide, pleading eyes. “Brother, don’t be foolish. I worked so hard to become chief flight attendant. You can’t let me lose my job.” The hesitation in Jake’s eyes hardened into resolve. He grabbed my wrist, trying to drag me away. I fought back, my hands gripping the armrests. “Jake,” I hissed, “you know exactly how many people this man has killed. If you move me, can you guarantee the safety of every single passenger on this plane? Aren’t you afraid he’ll wake up and go on a rampage? Is a write-up worth more than a prison sentence? Think about it.” He looked at me, then at Sarah, and his mind was made up. “Chloe, they’re my crew. They’re my friends. I can’t let one mistake cost all of them their jobs. Don’t worry, I’ll watch the suspect. I won’t let him hurt anyone.” He glanced at the quietly slumped figure of the prisoner, then turned back to me, his tone placating. “Look, he’s peaceful. He’s not armed. There are enough of us to handle him. Just… stay in the lavatory for a couple of hours. I’ll apologize when we get home, okay?” What he didn’t know was that the prisoner was only quiet because I had injected him with a powerful sedative before boarding. The drug only lasted for one hour. I had a second dose in my bag to ensure a smooth transport. Thirty-five minutes had already passed since the first injection. In twenty-five minutes, if he didn’t receive the second dose, the chaos that would ensue was unimaginable. I laid out the stakes for him, my voice urgent and clear. “Jake, if this is too difficult, I can compromise. Move us to first class.” Before we boarded, Jake had mentioned the first-class cabin was empty. Moving us there was the perfect solution. But Sarah overheard me. “You’re a murderer and you want to sit in first class?” she shrieked. “On what grounds!” Her words ignited the passengers’ anger once more. “Why should a scumbag like that get to sit in first class? If you move him, we demand a refund! A full refund!” “A killer gets first-class treatment while the rest of us follow the rules? If you don’t lock her up, we’re all filing a complaint the moment we land!” “This is completely unprofessional!” The chorus of outrage rattled Jake. He grabbed my wrist again, this time dragging me toward the lavatory. “Just stay in here quietly. I’ll let you out in two hours. Behave!” “Our careers are on the line with this flight! I can’t afford any mistakes!” His grip was brutal. As he pulled me, my head slammed against a metal food cart. The world spun. Jake saw my dazed expression and loosened his hold slightly. He knelt, about to ask if I was hurt. But Sarah, clutching the cheek I’d slapped, started to cry. “Chloe gets hurt and Jake is right there to comfort her. When I get slapped, I just have to suffer in silence.” Molly rushed to her side, glaring at me. “Brother, she just hit Sarah. She’s tough as nails; a little bump won’t kill her. You need to check on Sarah.” Jake immediately let go of me. Without his support, I crumpled to the floor. He saw the red mark on Sarah’s face and his own face contorted with rage. This time, there was no mercy. He slapped me, hard, twice across the face. “You attack people for no reason? You really are the dangerous criminal they warned us about. You’re going to learn some respect. Now get in the damn lavatory!” He kicked me in the ribs. I heard a distinct crack. How ironic. I had survived countless deadly missions, only to have my ribs broken by the man I loved. I clutched my chest, the disappointment a cold, hard knot in my stomach. “We’re done.” “When this plane lands, I’m reporting everything.” His face went pale with panic. He grabbed my hair, forcing me to look at him. “You wouldn’t dare!” “If you do that, we are not getting married!” We had planned to get married after this mission. But after this, the thought was repulsive. “I can’t wait.” My words ignited his fury. He squeezed my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. “Say that again!” “Jake,” I said, my voice steady despite the pain, “enjoy prison.” I wasn’t afraid of him. “You…” He was speechless, choking on his anger. Sarah, her eyes red, tugged at his arm. “Jake, I know Chloe is just upset with me. After this flight, I’ll resign. I’ll take full responsibility. I won’t let you lose your job.” “Chloe is being immature, but I can’t be. You’re about to be promoted to captain, and Molly has worked so hard to get where she is. I can’t let all your hard work be for nothing.” She hid her face, a perfect picture of martyrdom. I let out a cold laugh. “You are the one responsible. If you hadn’t announced there was a prisoner on board, if you hadn’t insisted on moving him, none of this would have happened.” Sarah buried her face in Jake’s chest, sobbing. “It’s my fault, it’s all my fault…” The sight seemed to break Jake’s heart. He stroked her back, murmuring reassurances. “Don’t worry. I won’t let you take the blame alone. I’ll protect you.” Molly chimed in. “Brother, just gag her. Then no one will ever know what happened here.” Jake hesitated. “But the other passengers…” Molly raised an eyebrow. “I have a plan.” She turned to the cabin. “This criminal is more dangerous than we thought. We need assistance. Is there anyone willing to help us restrain her? We’ll report it to the airline, and you’ll receive a year of free flights.” A brilliant, evil plan. Make the passengers accomplices, and they would all be on her side. The passengers, ignorant of the truth, were eager to help. Soon, I was surrounded. The narrow aisle was packed. I felt hands grabbing my arms, fingers prying at my mouth. I summoned every ounce of strength and shoved them back. Years of training had given me the skills to defend myself. I had no other choice. I pulled my badge from my pocket, my voice strained with pain. “Look closely. I am a police officer. There is a high-level felon on this plane, and I am his escort. If you lock me up, the consequences will be irreversible.” A passenger near me craned his neck, trying to see if it was real. But Molly snatched it from my hand. “It’s a fake! I can’t believe you’d forge a badge to evade responsibility.” In front of everyone, she tore it to shreds. “We were briefed on the suspect’s description. It’s her. Everything she’s saying now is a lie.” “And I have reason to believe she’s hiding other items. For the safety of everyone on this flight, I need to search her.” “You wouldn’t dare!” I roared. Molly leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper in my ear. “Let me be honest. I never wanted you as a sister-in-law. A woman who spends all her time with men, reeking of them… My brother told me the scars on your body disgust him. A woman like Sarah is what he deserves.” She lunged, tearing at my shirt. It was summer, and I was only wearing a t-shirt. The fabric ripped, exposing my bra. A few of the men in the crowd leered, their hands reaching for me. I fought back, pushing them away, but more surged forward. “A killer who still pretends to have shame,” one of them sneered. “We’re just getting justice for your victims!” My pride, my dignity, shattered. But I held back, knowing I couldn’t seriously injure civilians. And then, the prisoner moved.

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On the eve of launching the product our team had bled for over three years to create, I overheard my wife planning to give my title—Co-founder—to an intern. Her best friend, Karina, was trying to reason with her. “Ava, think about this. Daniel has poured his soul into this project for three years. You can’t just replace him at the last second. It’s not right.” “And if you’re really that into this new programmer kid,” Karina continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “just keep him on as an assistant or something. Why blow everything up over him?” Ava’s voice was a low, tense murmur. “You don’t get it. I can’t give him the commitment he wants, so the least I can do is make it up to him financially.” “Daniel’s entire focus is on this launch,” she explained, her logic cold and precise. “If I tell him now, he’ll implode, and the launch will go down with him. It’s better to just announce it on stage, while he’s preoccupied. Once it’s a done deal, he won’t make a scene. He’ll have to swallow it for the sake of the company’s image, for the stock price.” I silently crushed the cigarette out in the ashtray, the last wisp of smoke curling into the darkness. Then, I turned and walked back to the bedroom. … The day of the launch, the conference hall was a swarm of flashing cameras and microphones. Just as Ava was basking in the limelight, her arm linked with the intern, Leo, Karina burst through the crowd, her face pale with panic. “It’s a disaster! Someone leaked our product! A rival company just launched a clone—they went live three hours ago and already have over eight million users!” This was my little gift to her. Yesterday afternoon, I sold the exclusive rights to our product to her biggest competitor, Apex Dynamics. … Karina dragged her into the emergency stairwell, the door slamming shut behind them. “This project was Daniel’s baby from day one,” she hissed. “Could he have done this? What if he found out about you and Leo? This feels like revenge, Ava.” Ava shook her head, her certainty absolute. “Don’t jump to conclusions without proof. Daniel comes from a family of academics, three generations of Ivy League scholars. He has too much class, too much pride. If he knew something, he would have confronted me directly, not pulled a stunt like this.” Karina wasn’t convinced. “You’re being naive! The man adores you. If he found out you betrayed him, that love would turn to hate in a second. And if he decided to retaliate, you know the Hawthorne family is not to be trifled with. We wouldn’t survive that fight.” A small, confident smile played on Ava’s lips. “You forget. He turned his back on them for me. The Hawthornes disowned him years ago. They won’t lift a finger to help him. Now, I’m all he has left. He’s a smart man; he wouldn’t burn the only bridge he has.” Karina seemed to relax, reassured by Ava’s confidence. But a flicker of confusion crossed her face. “I still don’t get it. What’s so special about this Leo kid? No offense, but from where I’m standing, he can’t hold a candle to your Daniel.” Ava’s smile softened. “Daniel and I have been together for seven years. The passion… it’s settled into a routine, a habit. Since Leo came along, I’ve felt this strange, secret guilt towards Daniel, and it’s actually made our relationship better. It’s a win-win, isn’t it?” So that’s what it was. The seven-year itch. The fading flame. Leo was just the jolt of electricity she needed to feel something again. But the moment she decided to give him my position—the position I had earned—the scales in her heart had tipped for good. Through the thin metal door, their voices carried, faint but clear. “You’re playing with fire, Ava. One day you’re going to push it too far and lose everything. You have a perfect husband, I don’t know why you feel the need to create all this drama.” Ava’s tone was unshakable, laced with a chilling certainty. “He loves me more than his own life. Remember when I was misdiagnosed with heart failure? Without a second thought, he signed a directed donation agreement, ready to give me his heart. It turned out to be a false alarm, but that agreement? It’s still legally binding.” She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. “Do you know what that means? It means if I ever needed it, his heart is mine for the taking. A man who would literally do that for me… is he really going to throw it all away over a little fling with Leo?” “But you’ve reminded me,” she added, her voice shifting. “He’s bound to be jealous about today’s mess. I’ll just have to smooth things over later. He’s ridiculously easy to soothe, you know. A few kisses, a soft touch, and he’s happy for days.” Her voice turned wistful, almost bored. “There’s no challenge in it anymore. It’s not like Leo. He can give me the silent treatment for a week straight when he’s mad. Now that’s exciting.” Exciting? I closed my eyes, forcing a steadying breath into my lungs. She thought I was easy to soothe? It was never about that. It was because I couldn’t bear to see her worried or upset, so I let things go. I yielded. And she saw it as a lack of excitement. A bitter, self-mocking smile touched my lips. Is this just human nature? Get too comfortable, and you start craving chaos. Well, if that’s what she wanted, and I loved her so much… how could I deny her the satisfaction? I walked back into the main hall just as Ava and Karina emerged from the stairwell. She saw me and immediately rushed to my side. “Daniel, I know this is a nightmare, but we have to stay focused. The top priority is finding the traitor who did this.” Even now, she was pretending to care about my feelings. I raised an eyebrow, watching the carefully constructed concern on her face. If I hadn’t heard what I’d just heard, her performance would have been flawless. Ava took my hand, her touch meant to be comforting. “Don’t blame yourself. I know you did everything you could.” I didn’t pull away, nor did I respond. Her fingers traced absentminded circles on the back of my hand. Then her tone shifted, becoming more strategic. “Daniel, with this crisis, there’s going to be fallout inside the company. It’s going to make it hard for you to lead the team moving forward.” I played along. “So what do you think I should do?” A flicker of something—triumph?—flashed in her eyes before she suppressed it. “You know, the plan was to officially announce you as Co-founder today. But after this… if I force you into that position now, the board and the team will never accept it. So maybe…” Seeing I wasn’t interrupting, she spoke faster, as if afraid I’d refuse. “I’m thinking of letting Leo step up for now. He can be the public face, handle the press. All the negative attention, internally and externally, will be focused on him. It will take the pressure off you.” Her scheme was brilliant in its cruelty. She had already promised my title to her lover, but now, under the cover of crisis, she was twisting the narrative. Now, Leo was the noble one, taking the fall for me. And I was supposed to be grateful. My silence seemed to make her anxious. “It’s just a temporary measure, Daniel. A strategic move to get us through this. You have to understand, it’s all for the good of the company.” She paused, her voice softening into a velvet purr. “Your position in this company is unshakable. No one can ever change that. Once this storm passes, everything will go back to normal. Okay?” I looked at her, my voice low and hollow. “And what about my position in your heart?” She looked at me, confused. “My position in your heart,” I repeated. “Is that unshakable, too?” She stared for a second, then broke into a laugh, tapping my shoulder playfully. “Are you serious? Right now? I’m over here trying to figure out how to protect you, how to make this easier on you, and you’re getting jealous?” My eyebrow arched. “So this is my fault, then?” She must have sensed the shift in my demeanor, the coldness beneath the surface. Her expression changed, and she suddenly wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug. “It’s just a strategy, a way to survive this. If you’re not happy with it, we won’t do it. We won’t use him.” I nodded slowly, my voice devoid of emotion. “Fine. Have it your way. If you think he has what it takes to stabilize the situation, then let him try.” My easy agreement clearly threw her off again. “…You agree?” she asked, her voice laced with hesitation. I offered a ghost of a smile. “You said he’s just a shield, a scapegoat to take the fall for me. Why would I object to that?” Without another glance at her, I pushed open the heavy doors of the venue. A blast of cold, damp air hit my face. It felt like it was about to pour. She followed me to the car, her voice a complex mix of emotions from behind me. “Daniel, once this is all over, everything will be okay. I promise.” I didn’t turn back. The storm would pass. But whether things would be okay… that was no longer up to her. With Leo installed as the new Co-founder, Ava paraded him everywhere. Investor meetings, industry galas, press conferences—they were an inseparable, high-profile duo. The looks I got from colleagues in the office became a mixture of pity and suspicion. One day, Ava called me into her office. “Daniel, we have to find the mole. I’ve set up an internal investigation team, but you were the core of the project. You know every line of code, every data stream. You have to lead the investigation.” I looked at her, a laugh bubbling in my throat. She wanted me to investigate myself. I nodded, my tone sincere. “Don’t worry. I’ll get to the bottom of this and give everyone the answers they need.” And so I began, making a grand show of leading the investigation, poring over logs and interviewing my own team members. That night, as I was “working late” with the investigators, my phone buzzed. It was my older brother. “Daniel, turn on the live stream for the charity gala right now. I’ll buy the item back for you, but you’re going to owe me an explanation for this mess.” A cold dread washed over me. I clicked the link. On the screen, the auctioneer was presenting the next item, a donation from Aura Tech’s own CEO, Ava Thorne. A magnificent blue diamond ring, once part of a royal collection. A hot rush of blood roared in my ears. My vision swam. That ring… My fingers were already dialing her number. “Daniel? Why are you calling so late? Is there… a break in the investigation?” My voice was a low growl, each word ground between my teeth. “You donated the engagement ring.” The line went silent. I could practically hear her panic. “You saw that? Look, Leo’s never been to one of these things, it was an awkward situation, I had to do something. But don’t worry, I’m going to buy it back.” “I know it was your grandmother’s,” she rushed to add. “I would never actually let it go. Relax…” I cut her off. “You used a Hawthorne family heirloom to clean up your boy-toy’s mess? He’s not just a ‘temporary measure,’ is he? He’s the apple of your eye.” It was like I had struck a nerve. “What are you talking about? He represents me now. When he looks foolish, I look foolish! Did you want me to become a laughingstock?” I let out a slow, weary sigh. “So you donated the ring.” Her voice became sharp, defensive. “I told you I’ll buy it back, no matter the cost! Isn’t that enough? What more do you want?” My control finally snapped. “It was a gift from me to you, Ava! You didn’t even have the decency to ask me.” The silence on the other end was thick with tension. Then, a soft male voice intruded. “Daniel? Look, we’re here representing the company. Aura Tech can’t afford another scandal right now. Ava was in a tough spot. This was my fault, really. I’ll make it up to you.” “She’s been so stressed lately, not eating, not sleeping,” Leo continued, his voice dripping with false concern. “Please don’t fight with her. It’s my fault. When we get back, you can take all your anger out on me.” Listening to him, my white-hot rage cooled to ice. I had forgotten about the silver-tongued charmer by her side, always ready to twist the situation to his advantage. Before I could speak, Ava’s voice cut in, fierce and protective. “Why are you apologizing to him? It was his mess in the first place! We’re here trying to fix it, and he’s whining about trivial, sentimental nonsense.” She scoffed, her voice turning to steel as she addressed me through the phone. “This just proves I was right to make Leo Co-founder. You have less strategic vision than a fresh college graduate.” Her words were a slap in the face, but they brought a chilling clarity. The depths of their shamelessness were truly something to behold. In that moment, I found myself thinking, they really do deserve each other. I made one last attempt to appeal to the woman I thought I knew. “Ava, that ring meant more than its monetary value. To me, it was priceless. That’s why I asked you to marry me with it. If you cared about me, you would have told me before you put it on that auction block.” I thought that by spelling it out, by taking a step back, she would understand. I couldn’t have been more wrong. “It’s just a ring, Daniel. A material object. Is it more important than the company’s reputation? When did you become so emotional, so incapable of seeing the bigger picture?” “I’m emotional?” I repeated her words, the last embers of hope in my heart turning to ash. “Ava, it wasn’t just a ring—” On her end, I heard Leo’s voice murmur, “Ava, come on. Mr. Davison is waiting for us.” Ava’s tone immediately became businesslike. “I have important people to talk to. I don’t have time for this petty drama. The ring is a done deal. We’ll talk when I get back.” In the end, my brother bought the ring back anonymously, for a price so absurdly high it made headlines. Ava was clearly stunned when a mysterious bidder swooped in and outbid her. The next day, she presented me with an elegant watch box. “Daniel, I was wrong about yesterday. Can you forgive me?” I opened it. Inside lay a limited-edition timepiece worth a small fortune. I closed the lid and pushed it back across the desk toward her. “There’s no need. The ring is in the past.” My voice was flat, unreadable. She blinked. “What do you mean, ‘in the past’?” I didn’t expose her lies or press the issue. “I mean you were right. It’s just an object. The people in front of us are what matter.” A look of smug satisfaction crossed her face, as if to say, I knew he’d come around. She nestled against me, the subject of the ring completely forgotten. “Let me put it on for you.” I gently blocked her hand. “No, thank you. The style is too young for me.” Her eyes darted away, and she quickly changed the subject. Life seemed to fall back into its old rhythm. She continued to tour the city with Leo, the shining power couple. Until a senior management meeting. Ava sat at the head of the table, with Leo in the seat of honor to her left. As she spoke, her fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the polished wood. My gaze froze on her left hand. On the finger where my grandmother’s diamond had once rested, there was now a simple, hand-hammered silver band. Leo made it for her. The thought was as clear and certain as a shard of glass in my mind. I didn’t confront them. But Leo decided to confront me. He cornered me in the hallway after the meeting. “Hey, Daniel. Got a minute?” I ignored him and tried to walk past. He sidestepped, blocking my path. “I heard you didn’t accept the watch Ava got for you,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips. “You keep rejecting her peace offerings, you’re going to break her heart. And when a heart gets cold, it starts looking for warmth somewhere else. You know what I mean?” I stopped and fixed him with an icy stare. He took my silence as an invitation to continue, growing bolder. He stroked the matching silver ring on his own finger. “I made this myself. It’s not worth much, but Ava says it’s more precious than any diamond. Because it’s the thought that counts, right?” He looked me right in the eye, his smugness practically radiating off him. “Tell me, Daniel. When you’re at the top for so long, do you even remember how to tell the difference between genuine affection and someone just going through the motions?” I stared at his gloating face and found it utterly pathetic. “Are you done?” I asked. He seemed taken aback by my lack of reaction. He faltered. “If you’re done,” I said, my voice dangerously quiet, “then get out of my way.” The color drained from Leo’s face. Without a backward glance, I walked away. That night, a shrill ringtone ripped me from a shallow sleep. Ava’s name flashed on the screen. “Daniel, have you lost your mind? You could have killed him!” I sat up, my mind clearing instantly. “What the hell are you talking about?” “Don’t play dumb with me! You locked Leo in the storage closet! Security found him nearly passed out from dehydration! Who else would be vicious enough to do something like that? My God, Daniel, I never knew you could be so cruel.” A cold, humorless laugh escaped my lips. “Ava, I don’t have time for these pathetic games. Instead of screaming at me, why don’t you go check the security footage?” Before she could continue her tirade, I hung up and blocked her number. Silence. Blessed silence. But less than ten minutes later, another call came through, this time from an unknown number. “Hello, am I speaking with Mr. Daniel Hawthorne? This is the Organ Transplant Coordination Center at Metropolis General Hospital. Our records indicate that you have a signed cardiac donation agreement on file, with a clause for priority matching under specific circumstances.” The voice was clinical, robotic, merely stating facts. “We have a critically ill patient who is a perfect match. His condition is extremely precarious, and he requires an immediate heart transplant. We need you to come to the hospital at once for final compatibility testing and pre-operative preparation.” My own heart felt like it had been plunged into a vat of ice. My blood ran cold. I remembered, years ago, signing that document. The only person who could activate that protocol was the intended beneficiary—her. Or someone she explicitly authorized. Ava. I never, in my darkest nightmares, imagined she would one day try to use my heart to save another man. I hung up the phone without a word. Then I sent a text to a number I’d been in frequent contact with lately. [The timeline has moved up. I can’t wait any longer.]

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After our daughter’s suicide, my husband threw a party with his friends to cheer me up. After a few rounds of drinks, his childhood friend, Misty, suggested we play a game of “Never Have I Ever.” The rules were simple: if you haven’t done the thing someone says, you fold down a finger. The first person to fold down all five fingers loses. Misty went five times in a row. I lost every single round. And in doing so, I finally learned the real reason my daughter was dead. I smiled, saying nothing as I pulled a revolver and a single bullet from my handbag. “Now,” I said. “Let’s play a new game.” 1 It was supposed to be a gathering to help me heal, to comfort me in the suffocating grief of losing my child. That all changed the moment Misty walked in. The door to the private lounge flew open, and she breezed in like a storm. “Sorry I’m late! I’ll down three shots to make up for it!” Without even a glance in my direction, she slid into the booth right next to my husband, Ryan, and draped an arm around his neck. Ryan didn’t push her away. Misty bit the cap off a beer bottle with her teeth, then pressed her lips to his, pouring the entire bottle into his mouth. She tilted her head, her eyes locking with mine over the top of the bottle. “This is how the big boys drink. You don’t mind, do you, Lena?” Our friends exchanged nervous glances. I, his wife, said nothing. I had been a statue since I’d arrived, my hands frozen on the handbag in my lap. My silence seemed to be a relief to the others, who quickly raised their glasses and started challenging Misty to drinking games. A few rounds later, Misty’s cheeks were flushed. She swayed slightly, a sly smile on her face. “You know what? We should play a game.” She held up five fingers. “I’ll say something I’ve done. If you haven’t done it, you fold one finger down. First one with all five fingers down loses and has to take a shot.” Everyone’s interest was piqued. They all held up their hands, a circle of open palms. It was as if they had completely forgotten why we were here in the first place. Misty, as the instigator, went first. She flicked her wrist, showing off a glittering sapphire bracelet. Her voice, sickly sweet, filled the room. “This is a Hawthorne family heirloom. Supposed to be passed down only to the daughter-in-law.” She shot a look at Ryan. “But my Ry-Ry stole it from his mom and gave it to me back in high school! I bet none of you have one of these, right?” The room fell silent. Everyone looked at me, the air thick with embarrassment. I stared at the bracelet, a vague sense of recognition stirring. It took me a long moment to place it. I had once asked Ryan to use a matching photo for our social media profile pictures. He’d refused, and it had turned into a massive fight, one where he’d even threatened to break up. We made up, but we never spoke of it again. The picture he had refused to change, the one he held onto so fiercely, was of a hand wearing that exact sapphire bracelet. I lowered my eyes to the plain gold band on my own ring finger and slowly, deliberately, folded down my thumb. I said nothing. Someone tried to smooth things over. “Come on, Misty, you’re always over at Lena’s place. You two are like sisters. Give us some real secrets!” Misty laughed. “Of course! Lena and I are thick as thieves. I even made her a special turtle soup once! Bet none of you have done that!” A friend immediately jeered. “No way! You, a tomboy, know how to cook?” She lifted her chin smugly. “Tossing a few things in a pot isn’t rocket science. It’s nothing compared to the hard work a man does out in the world.” My mind, rusted and slow, began to turn. After a long moment, my lips parted. “What turtle soup?” I had never had any soup made by Misty. The friends nudged her, teasing. “Aha! You’re cheating just to win!” Misty’s eyes narrowed into a grin. Her voice dropped, but every word was crystal clear. “It was when Lena was three months pregnant with her first. I was just learning to cook, so I made her a special tonic. A wild pheasant and turtle soup.” The moment she spoke, the phantom scent of something thick and cloying filled my nostrils. A sticky, medicinal odor mixed with the metallic tang of blood, piercing the deepest part of my memory. I remembered my first pregnancy. Ryan had brought me a bowl of murky, black liquid, telling me it was good for my health. I’d spooned up a small, hard piece, like a fragment of a shell. Before I could ask what it was, Ryan had snatched it and thrown it in the trash. He held the spoon to my lips. “Misty made this especially for you. Don’t be picky.” I had touched my slightly swelling belly and obediently opened my mouth, finishing the entire bowl. Not a drop was left. That night, a dull ache started in my abdomen. By the time I realized what was happening, blood had soaked through the bedsheets. In the emergency room, the doctor shook his head. He said I’d consumed too many “cooling” foods. The baby was gone. The moment I was off the operating table, my mother-in-law’s hand cracked across my face. She called me a gluttonous, stupid pig who couldn’t even protect her own child. But from the day I found out I was pregnant, I checked the ingredients of every cookie I ate. How could I have been so careless? When I got home from the hospital, I searched the house like a madwoman. I tasted sauces, spices, freezer-burned meat from the back of the fridge, even the water in the toilet tank. I swallowed everything. If I threw it up, I forced it back down. Everyone said I had lost my mind. But I just needed to know. I needed to know what I had eaten that had turned my developing child into a piece of dead flesh. I lifted my eyes and stared at Misty’s triumphant face. And now, I finally understood. It was never about what I ate. It was about who I trusted. 2 Slowly, I raised my hand and folded down a second finger. Misty saw my movement and choked on her drink, then nudged Ryan with her elbow. “Look! Lena’s reacting! You can thank me later!” Ryan just smiled and ruffled her hair, his voice dripping with indulgence. “Go easy on the drinks. You’re always the one with the crazy ideas.” He turned his head slightly, and his voice drifted over, quiet but clear. “If you can actually snap her back to her old self, I’ll owe you one.” My own voice was as flat and cold as a frozen lake. “Continue.” Misty let out a drunken hiccup, her eyes glazed over, her smile widening into a manic grin. “Okay, one time, I swapped out Ryan’s vitamin pills with Viagra!” The booth exploded. “Holy shit, Misty! You’re savage!” “What kind of move is that?!” Ryan froze for a second, then gave a weary smile and tapped her forehead with his finger. “When was this? How do I not remember this?” Misty playfully punched his shoulder, slumping into his arms. “It was at the villa party three years ago! You were complaining to me, remember? You said Lena was pregnant and you were going crazy. I was just trying to help you out!” She winked, her voice rising. “Don’t thank me too much for creating an opportunity for you!” Ryan’s head snapped up. His eyes met mine, and the smile on his face froze. “You’re drunk! Stop talking nonsense!” I lowered my head, my hand instinctively pressing against my lower stomach. The memories flooded back like a hemorrhage, thick and suffocating. Three years ago, in early autumn, I was pregnant with our second child. Overjoyed at this second chance, I agreed when Ryan wanted to throw a party at a rented villa. That day, balloons hanging from the ceiling popped, showering me in a cascade of pink petals. It was a girl. I cried with joy, a joy that was immediately followed by a wave of intense fear. I had learned my lesson. This time, I barely left my bed. I was meticulous about what I ate. I spent my nights online, ordering every adorable baby item I could find, dreaming of my daughter in her tiny dresses. Then Ryan had burst into the room. His eyes were bloodshot, his breathing ragged, his skin burning hot. I fought him, screaming, begging him to stop. “My daughter! There’s a baby inside me!” In the chaos and the tearing pain, I thought I heard a tiny, faint cry, as if my daughter was saying goodbye. I was rushed to the hospital again. D&C, induced labor. The feeling of that small life being scraped from my womb. When I woke up, Ryan was sitting by my bed, peeling an apple. “Thank God it was just a girl,” he said. “Don’t worry. The doctor said there was no permanent damage. You can still have more.” Without a moment’s hesitation, I snatched the fruit knife from his hand and lunged, stabbing him with all my strength. Once, twice… I lost count, my arm moving mechanically until someone finally pulled me off him. My mother-in-law’s slap came immediately after, so hard it perforated my eardrum. “It’s a wife’s duty to relieve her husband!” she shrieked. “You can always have another baby! What if my son’s health was at risk?! It’s better than him going out and finding another woman!” Everyone crowded around, telling me to let it go. I couldn’t. All I could think about were the shipping notifications for all the baby things I had ordered. They were useless now. I was useless. I couldn’t even protect my own child. Did my daughter think I was too weak to be her mother? Is that why she left me? But she was kind. She forgave me. A few weeks later, she came back to me, a third miracle inside my womb. This time, I took no chances. I had myself committed to a psychiatric ward, demanding to be placed in a fully padded, isolated room. It was stark white and terrifyingly quiet. But I wasn’t afraid. I could feel her moving inside me. I knew she was still there, keeping me company. On the day she was born, I was delirious, unable to tell sunrise from sunset. Just before I lost consciousness completely, I heard her loud, healthy cry. I wept. All the pent-up anguish, all the terror, came pouring out. I named her Grace. Not because she was a gift from heaven. But because she was a gift from my kind daughter, to her useless, despairing mother. The greatest grace I would ever know. “Wow! Lena’s smiling! She’s actually smiling!” Misty’s shrill voice yanked me from my memories. I subconsciously touched the corner of my mouth. It was true. It was turned upward. Just the thought of Grace could always soothe my fractured soul. Ryan let out a visible sigh of relief, his body sinking into the sofa cushions. Misty clapped her hands in excitement. “You’re definitely going to lose, Lena! The best is yet to come!” 3 Obediently, I folded down my third finger. Misty started to speak again, but Ryan covered her mouth. “She’s had too much to drink. I’m taking her home.” The others eyed my expression and offered weak, placating smiles. But Misty wouldn’t have it. She pried his hand away and yelled, “Nobody’s leaving! I’m not done yet!” She pointed a finger at me, her voice sharp. “We’re all here for Lena today! Haven’t you noticed she hasn’t moved an inch? I’d like to see who dares to be rude enough to leave!” Ryan turned to me, his brow furrowed, his tone laced with blame. “Haven’t you had enough fun yet? Lena, how long do you expect everyone to coddle you?” I clutched my handbag tighter and lifted my head, truly looking at him for the first time all night. “It’s not enough.” Misty triumphantly pinched Ryan’s behind. “See? Now sit down!” Ryan playfully tapped her nose, but his voice softened. “If she’s in a bad mood, just let her be. You’re too soft-hearted, always getting involved.” Misty pouted. “Women are sensitive creatures, you know.” The others looked around awkwardly, saying nothing. Misty deliberately lowered her voice and dropped her next bomb. “Okay, next one! I’ve worn a horror mask while driving on the freeway!” Ryan’s face changed instantly. He instinctively shifted to shield Misty, his eyes darting toward me warily. “She was just playing around that time! It was an accident that she scared Grace.” “And Grace was fine afterward, wasn’t she? Don’t you dare make a big deal out of it again!” Grace… was fine? The memory clawed its way to the surface. Our family was on a road trip with some of Ryan’s friends. In the back seat, Grace was quietly drawing with her crayons. She never cried, never fussed. It was as if she understood my fragile state and never wanted to cause me trouble. Even when she had a fever and threw up, the first words out of her mouth were “I’m sorry.” My Grace was a shy, gentle soul, kind to her very core. I smiled and asked her what she was drawing. She whispered that it was a secret, shyly turning her face to the window. Suddenly, all the color drained from her face. She let out the most bloodcurdling scream I have ever heard. I whipped my head around. In the passenger seat of the car driving parallel to us, a monstrous, grotesque face was pressed against the window, grinning at us. Ryan jerked the steering wheel. The car spun out of control, crashing into the guardrail. The world turned upside down. My head was bleeding, but I fought through the pain, stretching my hand desperately toward the back seat. My Grace, my tiny daughter, was crushed by the mangled seats, contorted into a small ball, looking so much like the embryo she once was in my womb. Her coloring book had fallen into a pool of her blood. On the page, drawn with clumsy, earnest crayon strokes, was the smiling face of a woman. Next to it, she had scrawled, “Mommy.” She was only three years old. And she already knew how to draw her mommy. I smiled, but tears streamed down my face, a sound like a broken accordion wheezing from my throat. The drawing was eventually soaked through with blood and fell apart. And from that day on, my Grace never spoke again. She would hide in her closet, and the slightest sound would make her tremble violently. The doctor who had saved me from the brink so many times just looked at me with deep sorrow and finally said, “As long as she’s alive, that’s what matters.” I never heard my daughter call me “Mommy” again. It was my punishment. A punishment for my stupidity, for never understanding what I had done so wrong that my own daughter couldn’t bear to be near me. My fingernails dug into my palm, and blood trickled through my fingers. Misty’s laughter was a sharp, grating sound. She was snuggled into Ryan’s arms, poking his chest with her finger. “Come on, Ry-Ry, so I gave you all a little scare. Nobody got hurt in the end, right?” “Besides,” she added, “to make it up to her, I even took Grace to a haunted house to help her get over her fears!” 4 I looked at my hand. Only my little finger was left standing. On the back of that finger, I had a tattoo of a little sun Grace had drawn. People say getting a tattoo on your finger is the most painful. That’s not pain. Pain is watching your daughter leap from the roof of a hospital. That is a pain that guts you. The fear, the despair she must have felt. One day, Grace had disappeared. I had searched the entire city like a madwoman. When I finally dragged myself back to the hospital, defeated, I saw her. She was standing between Ryan and Misty, holding both of their hands. The three of them looked like a perfect family. I noticed how pale Grace’s face was. I rushed over and pulled her into a tight hug, terrified I was about to lose her all over again. Misty bent down and stroked Grace’s hair, smiling. “Lena, Grace is talking to you. See? My treatment plan worked.” I numbly touched my deafened right ear, blaming myself for not hearing. Just then, Grace leaned in close to my left ear. I heard a tiny, fragile whisper. “Mommy, I love you.” I looked up at Ryan, my face flooded with astonished joy. He told me Misty had taken her to an amusement park. He said that after their day out, she had started talking again. In that moment, an overwhelming wave of gratitude washed over me. I treated Misty like a sister, even buying her a multi-million-dollar penthouse downtown as a gift. I thought it was a new beginning for Grace. I started the paperwork to have her discharged from the hospital. The day before she was supposed to come home, Grace disappeared again. I was frantic. Then I got a call from the hospital. They said a young girl had fallen from the roof early that morning. They couldn’t save her. I screamed into the phone, demanding to know why they were calling me. They said the girl’s name was Grace. The girl who fell, the girl who died, was my daughter. My daughter. The doctor said extreme terror had caused a complete psychotic break, triggering hallucinations. I couldn’t hear the rest of what he said. I collapsed to my knees, banging my head on the floor, repenting. I had been too greedy. The doctor had told me, “As long as she’s alive, that’s what matters.” But I had dared to hope she would call me “Mommy” again. And that single word, “Mommy,” was the last thing my daughter ever gave me. She was gone. I sat up straight and silently folded down my last finger. “Yay! Lena loses! Drink up, drink up!” Misty excitedly pushed a glass of hard liquor in front of me. I ignored it. I stood up and placed the handbag I had been gripping so tightly onto the table. I smiled as I pulled out a revolver. “Now, I’d like to play a different game.” The room fell dead silent. I closed one eye, the barrel of the gun held steady, aimed directly at Misty’s now ashen face. Ryan shot to his feet, his voice cracking with terror. “Lena! Are you insane?! Put the gun down!” I waved the gun slightly, my eyes empty of any warmth. “This was meant for me.” “But now I see it’s much better suited for a game.” The barrel shifted slightly, now pointing right between Ryan’s eyes. “Or perhaps…” I whispered, my voice a silken threat. “You’d like to play?” He froze, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. He stopped breathing. My voice was a mere breath. “Choose. Him, or you?”

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Before my husband, Joe, left for a business trip, he bought me a parrot. It was an early anniversary gift, he said, to make up for not being with me. The first day I had it, the parrot learned to say, “I love you.” The second day, it learned to say, “I love you, Joe.” By the end of the week, it could say the name of every single person in our lives. Except for mine. Then, late one night, the parrot started squawking frantically, over and over again. “Joe loves Clara.” I immediately dialed my husband’s number. “Who is Clara?” There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a manufactured yawn. “Probably the name of its old owner. Why? What’s wrong?” “Nothing,” I said, smiling into the phone before hanging up. Then I called the owner of the bird shop and placed an order for one hundred African Grey parrots, all trained to talk. The delivery address was Joe’s office. … The parrots arrived before I did. By the time I got there, the lobby of Hawthorne Industries was already swarming with employees. A slow, meaningful smile spread across my face. I clapped my hands lightly. At the sound, the crowd turned in unison. “This year’s anniversary gift is a parrot,” I announced, my voice carrying across the lobby. “The Executive Assistants can get theirs first. Don’t worry if you don’t get one now, another shipment is on its way.” Compared to the usual boring gift baskets, who wouldn’t want a talking African Grey parrot that cost thousands of dollars? A cheer went up, and a line quickly formed at the reception desk. The young woman at the front desk spotted the parrot perched on my shoulder, her eyes lighting up. “Mrs. Hawthorne, is that your parrot? He’s beautiful!” I smiled and nodded. “He is. Joe gave him to me. He even talks. Want to hear?” The receptionist nodded eagerly, her face alight with anticipation. I snapped my fingers near the parrot’s head. “Joe loves Clara,” it squawked. “Clara loves Joe.” Instantly, the hundred other parrots in the lobby erupted in a cacophony of mimicked chatter. It took a full ten minutes for the noise to die down. I feigned annoyance and flicked the parrot’s head with my finger. The receptionist had been here for years; she was an expert at reading people and understanding office politics. It only took her a second to catch my meaning. She played her part perfectly. “What a coincidence,” she said, her voice loud enough to carry. “The new assistant in the EA pool is named Clara, too.” At her words, the group of assistants instinctively parted, revealing a pale-faced young woman standing in their midst. The moment Clara appeared, the parrot on my shoulder took flight, landing on hers and nuzzling affectionately against her cheek, chirping, “Miss Clara, miss Clara.” I didn’t need to ask any more questions. This was her. The sharp click-clack of my heels on the marble floor seemed to echo the pounding in Clara’s chest. I stopped in front of her. “My husband gave me this bird. Since it seems to like you so much, you can have it.” Before the woman could refuse, Joe’s voice cut through the tension. He had just arrived. “That was a gift for you, Nina. Why would a temp assistant who hasn’t even passed her probation be worthy of it?” Joe wrapped his arm around my waist, and I leaned into his embrace. To any outsider, we were the picture of a loving, powerful couple. But we both knew the truth. We both knew the affection was a lie. I shot a contemptuous glance at Clara, who looked like she was about to burst into tears, her lips white and trembling. I tapped Joe’s chest playfully, my voice a soft reprimand. “Darling, don’t be so harsh. You’re scaring the poor girl.” I turned back to Clara. “The parrot is mine to give. I say it’s yours, so it’s yours.” Joe sighed, as if exasperated by my willfulness, but then he leaned in and placed a tender, proprietary kiss on the corner of my mouth. When he looked up at Clara, however, his eyes were chips of ice. “Since my wife insists, you will accept it. But remember, this is a one-time thing.” Clara looked utterly bewildered. Last night, this man had held her in his arms, whispering sweet nothings. Now, he was a cold stranger. A flash of pure hatred crossed her face as she looked at me. She snatched the parrot from her shoulder and, with a choked sob, slammed it onto the marble floor before turning and running away. The color drained from Joe’s face. He took an instinctive step to follow her, but I grabbed his arm, my grip like steel. “Honey,” I said, my voice sweet, “the parrot is dead.” He ran a hand through his hair in frustration, forcing his tone to remain calm. “Sweetheart, I have a video conference I’m late for. After my meeting, I’ll take you out myself and we can pick out any gift you want.” But he could see Clara’s retreating figure about to disappear. He dropped the act, yanked his arm from my grasp, and chased after her. I watched them go, my expression unreadable. Then I turned to the receptionist, who was looking at me with a mixture of sympathy and awe. “How would you like a raise?” “So, you’re telling me Clara is a single mother with a five-year-old son?” The young receptionist, Maya, gulped down her bubble tea. “Yes! My best friend is in HR. She told me Clara has a son, but she’s never been married. One time, Clara let it slip that the boy’s father is the CEO of a publicly traded company.” I stirred my coffee, lost in thought. A few weeks ago, I would have never connected this to Joe. We had been through so much together. We started our company right out of college. It sounds simple, but with no family support and no experience, we were drowning. We were constantly exhausted, perpetually broke. We’d shared a single packet of instant noodles for dinner, huddled for warmth under a bridge. Finding vegetables that vendors had thrown out at the market felt like winning the lottery. “Mrs. Hawthorne?” Maya waved a hand in front of my face. I took a sip of my coffee. “Do you know where Clara lives?” The address was familiar. The neighborhood was familiar. Of course it was. It was the modern glass villa I had bought five years ago. At the time, Joe had complained it was too big, too sterile, that it didn’t feel like a home. So, despite how much I loved it, I had given it up, and we had moved into the cozy three-story townhouse he preferred. Now I knew why. He didn’t dislike the villa. He just wanted it for Clara. A bitter laugh escaped me. Joe Hawthorne, what a brilliant schemer. Using my money to house his mistress and his bastard child. A small soccer ball rolled to a stop at my feet. “Ma’am, can you get my ball for me?” I looked up and saw a small boy with a face that was a miniature version of Joe’s. I had prepared myself for this, but seeing him, a wave of raw anger and a sharp, unexpected pang of heartbreak washed over me. The sting of my own nails digging into my palm brought me back to my senses. I forced a gentle smile. “Here you go.” For the next few weeks, I became a ghost. Even Joe started to complain. He wrapped his arms around me from behind one evening, his chin resting on my shoulder. His warm breath on my neck made my skin crawl. “Mr. Hawthorne, about the dinner tonight—” Clara’s voice trailed off as she entered the office and saw me. Her eyes widened in panic, and she instinctively tried to hide her hands behind her back. “That’s a lovely bracelet, Clara,” I said conversationally. “You have excellent taste. Is that a piece from ‘Solitaire’?” “Their jewelry is known for being one-of-a-kind.” I paused, letting my words hang in the air. “It’s funny, it looks quite similar to a custom piece I ordered from them recently.” The double meaning was not lost on anyone in the room. I saw the same flicker of panic on both of their faces and smiled with satisfaction. “Of course,” I added lightly, “my eyes could be deceiving me.” Joe visibly relaxed. I sidestepped his attempt to take my hand. It was time for my performance. A single, perfect tear rolled down my cheek. “Joe, she killed my parrot,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Why is she still here? Why haven’t you fired her?” Clara looked horrified, her eyes welling up as she clutched at Joe’s sleeve. He patted her hand reassuringly. “Honey, Clara told me what happened. It wasn’t intentional. She’s allergic to feathers, and she just had a bad reaction.” “Besides,” he continued, “she’s a great employee, and she’s a single mother. You’re such a kind person, Nina. I know you wouldn’t have the heart to fire her, would you?” I looked at him, my face a mask of grievance and injustice. “But I’m not the one who made her a single mother.” I let out a shaky laugh. “You’re so protective of her. What are you, the baby’s daddy?” “Nina, what the hell are you talking about?!” he exploded. I flinched as if struck, my eyes wide with shock. After a long moment, I choked out, “It was just a joke! Why are you so angry?” His darkest secret had been touched, and he lashed out. “You’re being completely irrational!” he snapped. “I’m not coming home for a while. You can stay here and think about what you’ve done.” With that, he walked around me, grabbed his coat, and led Clara out of the office. As they left, Clara shot me a triumphant smirk over her shoulder. The door slammed shut. The mask of the wronged wife fell away, replaced by the cold, imperious glare of a queen.

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1 I was out to dinner with a friend when I saw them: a young couple, obviously head-over-heels in love. As the man meticulously peeled a shrimp for his girlfriend, I couldn’t help but sigh. “I wish my husband still did that for me.” Then he turned his head. Holy crap… it was my husband. It was rare for me to get a night out, a chance to just catch up with my friend, Catherine. The moment we walked into the restaurant, we were hit with a blast of sickeningly sweet affection from a couple at a nearby table. The man was patiently placing food on the woman’s plate, his every move radiating adoration. They were in that blissful, early stage of love. I remembered when my husband, Devin, and I were like that, completely inseparable. But time had worn away the edges of his affection, leaving something dull and routine. If only he could still be this attentive, this caring. I found myself staring, lost in a haze of nostalgia. Then the man turned to the side to throw something away, and I saw his profile. My world stopped. It… it was actually him. My husband. I stood frozen for a beat, then grabbed Catherine’s arm and practically dragged her out of the restaurant. “Lily, what the hell?” Catherine asked, completely bewildered. “We haven’t even eaten yet. What are you doing?” “Nothing, it’s nothing,” I stammered, pulling her toward the street. “I just remembered I left the stove on at home. I’m so sorry, Catherine, we’ll do this another time, I promise.” I cobbled together an excuse and rushed home, throwing myself onto my bed and burying my face in the pillows. The tears I’d been holding back finally came, hot and bitter. Why? Why? Devin and I had been married for three years. His mother was in poor health, and to ensure his career wasn’t affected, I had quit my job to become her full-time caretaker. When she first got sick, we didn’t have enough for her medical bills, so I sold the jewelry and cashed out the stocks my parents had given me as a wedding gift. I met Devin at work. He was the star of the company—handsome, charming, and brilliant. I was… average. But from the moment I saw him, I was completely smitten, utterly hooked. I started pursuing him relentlessly. He turned me down at first. But then he found out that I was the daughter of the company’s main investor, that my job was just a way for me to “experience real life.” Suddenly, he was interested. I was so naive. I thought my sincerity had won him over. My friends all warned me to be careful, but I was too far gone to listen. During our relationship, he was perfect. He showered me with attention and cared for my every need. The little crush I had blossomed into a deep, unwavering devotion. After six months, he proposed. I married him against my parents’ wishes. They saw something in him I refused to, but they couldn’t stop me. They gave in, gifting me a luxury car and a million dollars. Devin couldn’t stop smiling. Not long after the wedding, he told me his mother was sick and needed expensive treatments. His savings weren’t enough. He hoped I could help. Of course, I said yes. It was my duty to help my husband’s family. I gave him every last cent without a second thought. Her condition stabilized, but she needed round-the-clock care. Devin said his career was at a critical stage, and he didn’t trust a hired nurse. He asked if I would stay home and look after her. High on love and a desire to please him, I agreed. I had been her caretaker for three years. I, who had been pampered my whole life, who had never so much as washed a dish, learned to cook, clean, and care for a difficult, thankless patient. All for the sake of a love I thought was real. And this was my reward. Him, out wining and dining another woman. The more I thought about it, the angrier I became. If I didn’t ruin him, I’d be disrespecting my own sacrifice. “Lily! What are you doing in there? Why is the door locked?” Devin’s mother started pounding on the bedroom door. I wiped my tears, took a deep breath, and opened it. “I thought you were going out to eat with your friend. What happened? Did you come to your senses? Good. I’ve told you, you shouldn’t eat out so much. It’s not clean. Nothing is better than a home-cooked meal.” The old woman droned on and on. It wasn’t about hygiene; it was about control. She couldn’t stand the thought of me enjoying myself. To keep up appearances, Devin had never told her that her medical bills and all our household expenses were paid for with my money. She still thought her son was a brilliant provider, and I was just a housewife who did nothing but spend his hard-earned cash. “Yes, you’re right,” I said, my smile not reaching my eyes. “The food out there is so unsanitary. That’s why I came back. What would you like for dinner? I can go buy groceries.” “I saw a video of someone eating salmon and lobster. That looked good. Let’s have that.” She even pulled up the video on her phone to show me. A young woman was feasting on a massive seafood platter, moaning with pleasure. “Mom,” I said, my voice dripping with false sweetness. “You know, it’s possible I can’t afford that. Your son hasn’t given me any money for groceries. How about we stick to vegetables? They’re green, healthy, and full of nutrients!” She was stunned into silence. Normally, I bought whatever she wanted, no matter the cost. It didn’t matter; my parents were wealthy. But things were different now. Her son had just planted a forest on my head. If he wasn’t going to give me money, she wasn’t going to eat. “How is that possible? Devin makes so much money! Did you spend it all on yourself?” “If you don’t believe me, I can call him and ask. Let’s see how long it takes him to send the money over.” I dialed Devin’s number and put it on speaker. His impatient voice filled the room. “What is it? I told you not to call me unless it’s an emergency. I’m busy.” “Your mother wants seafood for dinner, but I don’t have any money. Can you send some over?” “Didn’t your parents just give you money? Isn’t that enough? We agreed, remember? My salary is for the down payment on the new house.” “Well, I wouldn’t be asking you if I had a choice. My dad’s company is having some cash flow issues, so he’s cut me off for a bit. It’s up to you. But if you don’t send anything, your mother and I will just have to go hungry.” I hung up. The old woman standing next to me was speechless, a look of pure disbelief on her face. The reality that her entire lifestyle was funded by me must have been a bitter pill to swallow. Without another word, she shuffled back to her room, her pride wounded. A moment later, I heard her screaming into her phone. “Devin! You get money into my account right now! Are you trying to starve your own mother?” She was a profoundly selfish woman. She didn’t even care about her own son’s financial strain. As long as she thought I was spending his money, she was happy to bleed him dry. Now that she knew the truth, her only concern was her wounded pride. She chewed him out and then demanded he deposit half his salary into her account every month from now on. Devin was all ego. His grand plan of buying a big house with his own money was nothing but a lie to placate me. His money, I realized, was likely being spent on that other woman. That night, Devin, who was supposed to be on a business trip, came home. “Lily, I know I’ve been neglecting you with work lately. I’m sorry. I brought you a gift.” He took my hand and placed a small box in it. Inside was a simple silver bracelet. A cheap trinket. I feigned delight, putting it on and admiring it for a long time. The old me would have been thrilled with any gift from him. But now, knowing about his affair, everything he did felt disgusting. “Lily, I have to save for the house right now,” he began, his voice smooth and earnest. “I want to give you a better life, so your father can’t look down on me. For now, we’ll still have to rely on your family for our expenses…” So that was it. The gift, the apology—it was all a setup. My father had always looked down on him. I never understood why he had such a strong prejudice against Devin. Now I knew. My father, a man who had seen everything, had probably read him like a book from day one. I was the foolish, disobedient daughter who had refused to listen. Well, my head was clear now. I wouldn’t disappoint my father any longer. “Of course, honey,” I cooed. “But I have one small request. No matter how busy you are, you have to come home more often. We can’t have some vixen outside snatching you away.” I whispered the words into his ear, putting extra venom on the word “vixen.” His face tensed for a second before he forced a smile. Later that night, after he’d fallen asleep, I took his phone. The password had been changed. I hadn’t checked his phone in so long, I had no idea when. Thankfully, he was a heavy sleeper. I used his thumb to unlock it. I opened his messaging apps. He hadn’t deleted the chat history. The other woman’s name was Jenna. He called her “My Jen.” I fought back a wave of nausea and opened their conversation. It was filled with explicit messages and a long history of money transfers, big and small. They had been in contact since before Devin and I even got married. It was as if I was the other woman. Every word was a needle stabbing at my heart. Devin had only agreed to date me for my money. His mother was sick, and he was desperate. I was just a rich fool who had delivered herself to his doorstep. He had played me, married me, and used my money to solve his problems, all while carrying on with his real love. What a brilliant plan. I opened Jenna’s social media feed. The first post was a picture of a new gold bracelet. The receipt was included in the photo. Of course. My cheap silver bracelet was just the free gift that came with her expensive gold one. She loved to post. Every gift from Devin was put on display. I scrolled past the nauseating posts, looking for something useful. And then I found it. In the background of one of her selfies, I recognized a familiar office building. It belonged to a company my father was an investor in, run by a close family friend. My Uncle David. So, that’s where she worked. I put the phone back and smiled. It was time for me to go back to work and “experience real life” again. The next morning, I was out the door before his mother could protest. “Mom, your son has a hard time making ends meet, and my parents have cut me off. If you want to maintain your quality of life, I have to go back to work. Toodles!” I called Uncle David, and he set me up with an easy, low-stress position where I could coast. The moment I walked into the office, I ran right into her. I recognized her instantly. She looked just as plain in real life as she did in her filtered photos. I acted like I didn’t know her, but she definitely knew me. Her face was a mask of disbelief. She couldn’t fathom why I was here. I ignored her, introduced myself to the team, and sat down at my desk, which I had specifically requested be next to hers. I spent the morning just watching her. “Why do you keep staring at me? Don’t you have your own work to do?” she finally snapped. “I’m new,” I said with a sweet smile. “I have to learn, don’t I?” She fell silent, but I could see the guilt in her eyes. Just then, the CEO’s secretary called me over. “Mr. Davies wants to see you.” “Lily, my dear! What wind blew you all the way over here?” Uncle David joked as I entered his office. “I just wanted to help you out, Uncle David,” I replied innocently. “Right. Just try not to cause too much trouble,” he laughed. “Now, what are you really up to?” “Nothing much. Just bored. But I do have a favor to ask. Please don’t tell anyone here about our relationship. And whatever you do… don’t tell my dad I’m here.” “Alright, you little troublemaker. Still full of schemes.” Uncle David and my father were best friends. He’d always wanted a daughter, so he’d spoiled me like his own my entire life. For the next few weeks, I made a point of showing up late every day and doing as little work as possible. I spent most of my time drinking tea in Uncle David’s office. The office rumor mill went into overdrive. Everyone was whispering that I was the boss’s mistress. Jenna, of course, reported all of this to Devin. He started coming home more often. I snuck a look at their chats again. She was painting me as a shameless adulteress, urging him to divorce me immediately. But Devin kept avoiding the subject. I knew why. If he divorced me, his free nanny and personal ATM would be gone. His mother would become his financial burden. “Lily, I heard you’ve been getting close to your boss,” he said one evening as I was putting on my makeup. “Oh? Who told you that? I didn’t know you knew anyone at my company.” “An old classmate of mine works there,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “Really? What’s their name? They don’t seem like a very nice person. My boss and I were just discussing work. Why would they twist it into something so ugly?” “You misunderstood. My classmate was just trying to praise you, saying you must be very capable to get the boss’s attention.” “Is that so? Well, who is this classmate? I should thank them for the compliment.” I put down my powder puff and smiled at him. “Ah… we don’t really keep in touch. We just ran into each other. You know what, maybe you should just quit. It’s not like you need the money.” He was trying to change the subject. Fine. I wasn’t ready to expose them yet anyway. The time wasn’t right. “I don’t need the money, but I was bored out of my mind at home. Work is a vacation compared to taking care of your mother.” I applied my lipstick, admiring my reflection. “Maybe you should quit. You can stay home and look after her. I don’t mind being the breadwinner.” “Lily, you’ve changed! You were never like this before!” he said, his voice rising in frustration. He looked like a clown when he was angry. “I haven’t changed at all,” I said coolly. “The one who changed was always you, wasn’t it?” He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. I ignored him, finished getting ready, and left for work.

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1 I was softly reading a bedtime story to Mr. Hayes’s autistic daughter when his long-lost love burst through the door. Her eyes darted between the two of us, and then she strode forward. Just as I thought she was going to embrace her child, she swung her hand and slapped me hard across the face. “You shameless bitch,” she hissed. “I’m gone for a few years, and you slide right in, sleeping with my husband, stealing my daughter.” “You think because you look a little like me, you can be my replacement? Steal everything that’s mine?” I cupped my stinging cheek, utterly bewildered. A replacement? Me? Wasn’t I just the occupational therapist Mr. Hayes had hired to care for his autistic daughter? … The sharp crack of the slap terrified little Pearl. On the verge of sleep, she let out a piercing wail. My professional instincts took over. I ignored the raving woman in front of me and immediately gathered Pearl into my arms, murmuring soothing words. Pearl had been diagnosed with autism at birth. She formed no attachments, showed no interest in anyone. The only time she seemed to find any comfort was in my arms. It was why her father, Mr. Hayes, paid me a generous salary to be her full-time therapist and caregiver. Under my gentle coaxing, Pearl’s cries gradually subsided. But the woman, ignored and enraged, lunged forward, trying to rip Pearl from my arms. “I carried you for nine months! You’re my daughter! How could you attach yourself to a cheap substitute? I’m your mother!” She was hysterical, almost feral. Autistic children are far more sensitive to emotional turmoil than others, and Pearl, who had just calmed down, began to spiral again. That’s when my patience ran out. Even if this woman was Pearl’s biological mother, Mr. Hayes’s infamous “one that got away,” I couldn’t tolerate this. I shielded Pearl from her grasp and pressed the emergency call button in the room. Within moments, the butler and Mr. Hayes himself rushed in. “Mr. Hayes,” I said, my voice firm and loud, “this woman is trying to harm Pearl.” Instinctively paternal, Elias Hayes rushed to his daughter’s side, placing himself between us and the intruder. But when he saw the woman’s face, his eyes instantly reddened. His voice was a raw, choked whisper. “Seraphina… you’re finally back.” His hands trembling, Elias took Pearl from me and held her out to the woman, Seraphina, wanting her to hold their child. But Seraphina didn’t move. She turned her head away, her face a mask of wounded pride. “I don’t have a daughter who would betray me like this.” Then she rounded on him. “And you! You told me you would love me and only me for the rest of your life!” “I’ve only been gone for six years… and you’ve already replaced me with another woman. One who looks just like me!” Elias looked uncertainly from Seraphina to me, then back again. I couldn’t see the resemblance, other than the fact that we both had two eyes, a nose, and a mouth. “You’re still looking at her!” Seraphina shrieked. “If you’re choosing her right in front of my face, then I’m leaving!” With that, she burst into tears and ran for the door. Elias panicked. He shoved Pearl back into my arms and chased after her. I could hear his desperate explanations from the hallway. “Seraphina, darling, wait! Kristin is just a nanny I hired to take care of our daughter.” “She’s not a replacement, I swear. Now that you’re back, we can be a family again. Please?” “Darling…” Half an hour later, Elias led Seraphina back into the room. She shot me a triumphant smirk. “You’re fired.” Before I could say a word, Elias jumped in. “Honey, I just explained this to you! Our daughter can’t be without her.” Seraphina’s face crumpled, the tears returning instantly. “Elias, I don’t blame you. It was my fault. I was selfish to leave you and the baby to go abroad. I don’t blame you for finding a substitute.” “But I’m back now,” she sobbed. “Our daughter needs me. And so do you…” Elias hesitated. He knew Pearl needed me, but he couldn’t bear to lose Seraphina again. He looked at me, his expression torn. “Kristin, why don’t you take the rest of the night off? Go home.” I pointed to my still-red cheek. “Your wife slapped me. That counts as a workplace injury.” Elias tapped a few things on his phone. A notification popped up on mine. He had just transferred the deed to a luxury apartment in the city center into my name. My attitude changed instantly. I handed Pearl back to him and bowed respectfully. “As you wish, sir.” As I left, Seraphina stood with her hands on her hips, puffed up like a victorious rooster. I was too busy dreaming of my new apartment to care. Besides, I hadn’t had a proper rest since I’d started working with Pearl. That night, deep in a dreamless sleep, my phone rang. 2 I groggily assumed it was Mr. Hayes, but when I squinted at the screen, I saw it was my best friend, Amelia. The moment I answered, a tirade of curses assaulted my ear. “Elias Hayes’s wife is a certifiable lunatic!” she yelled. “She calls me in the middle of the night, says Pearl is having an episode and you’re not available, so I have to go over. The second I walk in, she starts bawling about how Elias didn’t just find one replacement for her, but two!” “I go to their house maybe twice a year, and always with you! How the hell did I become a substitute mistress trying to seduce her husband?” “And we look nothing alike! I asked her why she thought I was a substitute, and you know what she said? She said our names both have ‘ia’ at the end! Seraphina, Amelia… I…” I held the phone away from my ear as she unleashed a string of creative insults. Amelia was a leading expert in autism spectrum disorders. She was the one who had recommended me to Elias in the first place. But unlike me, who came from a humble background, Amelia was an heiress from a family even wealthier than the Hayes. “Did she forget I was at her wedding?” Amelia continued, her voice still raised. “She seemed normal enough then. What happened?” “Anyway, I told that crazy bitch where to stick it and left. I just feel so bad for Pearl… When I left, she was just staring into space again. She had made so much progress with you…” Amelia sighed, then her voice grew serious. “Listen, Kristin. The rumor was always that Seraphina left because she couldn’t handle having an autistic child. Elias is going to call you again. But don’t be a pushover. You get involved with crazy like that, you’ll never get out.” Sure enough, half an hour later, my phone rang again. It was Elias. His voice was frayed with exhaustion. “Kristin, I’ll double your salary. Please, come back now. Pearl won’t stop crying. I don’t know what to do.” Ten thousand a month, doubled to twenty. I gritted my teeth, threw on a coat, and rushed out the door. When I arrived at the Hayes mansion, however, I didn’t hear any crying. Instead, I heard Seraphina’s sugary voice. “See, darling? I told you. I’m her mother. Of course she needs me most…” Then she saw me standing in the doorway. Her voice sharpened. “What are you doing here again?” “I knew it! You haven’t given up! You’re still after my husband! But I’m telling you, the original is back, and there’s no room for a cheap copy in this house!” It was three in the morning, and the house was lit up like it was daytime. The entire household staff was lined up in the foyer, bleary-eyed and resentful. After Seraphina’s latest outburst, their expressions of weary contempt were impossible to hide. She saw it. She pointed a trembling finger at the butler. “You! You think she’s going to replace me, don’t you? That’s why you’re sucking up to her!” “You probably told her she was the first woman Elias ever brought home, didn’t you? Playing matchmaker for them!” The butler looked mortified. Everyone knew Elias had a wife and an autistic daughter. Countless female therapists and specialists had been in and out of this house. “First woman”? It was absurd. Seraphina, getting no reaction, turned her wrath on the head housekeeper. “And you! I bet you told them how you’ve never seen Mr. Hayes smile so much, didn’t you?” The housekeeper looked equally baffled. The Hayes Corporation was doing well, and Pearl’s condition had been improving. Of course Elias was smiling more often. The staff were trapped, but I wasn’t. “Mr. Hayes,” I said, my voice cold. “If you called me here in the middle of the night to watch this circus, then I’m afraid I’m leaving.” Elias rubbed his temples, looking utterly drained. “When I called you, Pearl was having a terrible meltdown. But… Seraphina managed to calm her down. She’s asleep now.” “I’m sorry for dragging you out here tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll pay you three… no, five times your overtime rate.” Seraphina clung to his arm, looking at me with a possessive glare, as if to say, you’ll never be me. But when she heard about the five-fold overtime pay, she lost it again. “Elias! That’s our money! I don’t approve—” I wasn’t listening. All I could hear was that Seraphina had calmed her down, and she was asleep. Pearl had always struggled with sleep. It was impossible for her to fall asleep in just a few minutes. I shoved past them and ran to Pearl’s room. I gently shook her. “Pearl, wake up. Wake up.” The child was completely unresponsive. Seraphina followed me in, her voice dripping with scorn. “I know this is hard for you, Kristin. You thought you could use my daughter to manipulate my husband. But as you can see, a mother’s bond is stronger…” I shot up from the bed, grabbed her by the wrist, and roared, “What did you give her?” Startled by my ferocity, she blurted out the truth. “I… I just gave her a few sleeping pills…” 3 My eyes turned bloodshot. “She’s not even six years old! You can’t give her sleeping pills! I thought you were just crazy, but you’re a monster!” Before Seraphina could reply, I scooped Pearl into my arms and ran for the car. “We need to get her to the hospital, now!” Seraphina grabbed Elias’s arm, her own eyes red with tears. “Darling, I just wanted her to get some sleep…” This time, Elias didn’t even look at her. He started the car and sped away. We got to the hospital just in time. They pumped her stomach, and she was out of danger, but she would need to be monitored for a few days. Looking at Pearl’s pale, small face, the dark circles under Elias’s eyes seemed to deepen. He formally apologized to me and begged me to stay at the hospital with Pearl. “Don’t worry,” he promised. “I’ll talk to Seraphina. The child is innocent. Please don’t let our issues affect how you care for her.” He was a man of his word, and another million dollars appeared in my bank account. I was instantly re-energized. “Mr. Hayes, you can count on me. I will treat Pearl as if she were my own daughter.” The next few days at the hospital were surprisingly peaceful. Then Amelia called. “You’re not going to believe this. Elias and Seraphina made up. Apparently, he was going to divorce her, but she threatened to kill herself, so he backed down.” “What did she do that was so bad that even a lovesick fool like him was ready to leave?” I told her about the sleeping pills. Amelia offered another round of colorful curses directed at Seraphina’s entire family tree. “Just be careful,” she warned. “I heard the Hayes are throwing a big party for Pearl’s sixth birthday. It’s supposed to be Seraphina’s official re-entry into society as Mrs. Hayes. And she’s the one planning it.” I figured a simple therapist wouldn’t be invited, so I didn’t think much of it. But on the day of the party, Pearl wouldn’t let go of my hand. After the hospital stay, she had become even more attached to me. “Kristin, please join us,” Elias said. Seraphina, her hand linked with his, gritted her teeth but, for once, didn’t say anything. The party was in full swing, a sea of clinking glasses and polite conversation. I saw Amelia and went over with Pearl in my arms. “It looks like the divorce threat finally knocked some sense into Seraphina…” I hadn’t even finished my sentence when we were grabbed from behind. Three men dressed as waiters brandished fruit knives they’d hidden under a table. One arm locked around my neck, the other held a blade to my throat. The same for Amelia. I was still holding a child. Fortunately, Pearl didn’t seem scared. She just looked around with wide, curious eyes. The sudden violence sent the other guests scattering in panic. Then, Seraphina’s delicate voice cried out, “Darling, save me!” She had been “kidnapped” too? Elias moved against the tide of fleeing guests, his voice calm and steady. “What do you want? Money? A car? A helicopter? Just let them go, and I’ll give you anything.” The lead kidnapper let out a theatrical cackle. “To think the great Elias Hayes would one day be begging me! But I don’t want any of those things. I just want the woman you love most to die.” “You have to choose one of them to live. The other two die.” At his words, Amelia, Elias, and I all frowned. Only Seraphina continued to scream hysterically. “Elias, save me! You promised you would always protect me!” Amelia rolled her eyes. “Wait, if he’s after the woman Elias loves most, why am I here?” “Everyone knows you and Kristin are the substitutes,” the kidnapper sneered. “Let’s see who our Mr. Hayes will choose. The original, or one of the copies? This is going to be so exciting!” Hearing the familiar “substitute” theory, we all instinctively looked at Seraphina. Who else would come up with something so insane? “Elias,” she whimpered, “you don’t believe him, do you?” Before Elias could answer, the kidnapper dragged the knife across my cheek, drawing a thin line of blood. “No talking! Choose, Mr. Hayes!” The blade moved to Amelia’s face. “Choose, or this pretty face gets ruined too.” Amelia roared a string of curses at Elias, then threatened, “Elias Hayes, if anything happens to me or Kristin, I will personally see to it that your family goes bankrupt.” Pearl, sensing the rising tension, started to wail. Seraphina was still crying, “Elias, save me!” “Everyone shut up!” the kidnapper yelled. “You have five seconds, Hayes.” “Five.” “Four.” “Three.” “Two.” “One.” “Wait!” Elias yelled. “I choose…”

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