Author: Momo Chan

The day my six-year-old biological daughter was returned to me, she refused to let me near her. My husband, Stephen, said she just needed time to adjust. “Why don’t you go on your business trip?” he suggested gently. “When you come back with lots of gifts, I’m sure she’ll warm up to you.” I was about to leave when I heard it—a small, terrified voice that wasn’t spoken aloud. Should I tell Mommy that my sister is always hitting me? Daddy said Mommy doesn’t like kids who tattle. He said she doesn’t like me. But if I don’t tell her… I don’t think I’ll be alive when she comes back. My heart seized. My head snapped toward the corner of the room, where my daughter, Violet, was huddled. Our eyes met, and hers were filled with tears. She didn’t open her mouth, but the voice came again, clear as day. Maybe I was reborn because I missed Mommy so much. Stephen saw me frozen in place. “Honey, you’re going to miss your flight.” I turned and slapped him across the face, the sound cracking through the quiet house. A business trip? To hell with that. I was staying right here with my baby girl, and I’d kill anyone who tried to hurt my child. … Stephen cupped his cheek, his face a mask of shocked disbelief. I’ve always been assertive, but I’d never laid a hand on anyone. Seeing my genuine fury, he quickly made an excuse about an urgent matter at the office and fled the house. The moment he was gone, Violet, who had been standing near me, shrank behind a marble pillar. Mommy is just as scary as Daddy said. Hearing her thoughts again, I was taken aback. The slap had been a knee-jerk reaction, pure rage fueled by the fear that my daughter’s life was in danger. I could be impatient, yes, but scary? Why would Stephen tell her that? After Violet was found and the devastating hospital mix-up was revealed, Stephen had been the perfect, caring father. He’d even created a detailed file for me on how to best interact with a child who had spent her first six years in an orphanage. He had always been the patient one in our marriage, the one who took on the bulk of the childcare. It had to be a misunderstanding. Looking at the tiny, trembling girl, I felt an overwhelming urge to hold her. I knelt down, forcing a gentle smile. “Mommy’s not going to work today. How about we go visit your new school instead?” Violet’s eyes widened in surprise, and she nodded. I scooped her into my arms, and her thoughts flooded my mind again, soft and wondrous. Mommy smells so nice. Her hug is so warm. It’s a shame that the first time Mommy held me in my last life, I was already dead. I couldn’t feel how warm she was. A cold dread gripped me. According to her, by this point in her previous life, I was already out of the country. Well, this time I was here. And I was going to find out which son of a bitch dared to lay a hand on my daughter. I dressed Violet in a beautiful new dress. I only went upstairs for a moment to grab my purse, but when I came back down, I found Jenny—the daughter I had raised for six years, the one mistakenly swapped with mine—jabbing a finger in Violet’s face. “You little peasant, who said you could wear that dress?” Jenny shrieked. “This is a one-of-a-kind piece! I am the only princess in this house!” “You’re trash! Just because you live here now doesn’t make you one of us!” With that, Jenny lunged forward and began tearing at the delicate fabric of Violet’s dress. I saw red. I rushed down the stairs, but by the time I reached them, Jenny was already on the floor, a piece of torn fabric clutched in her hand. She held her arms out to me, tears streaming down her face. “Mommy, I don’t know why she hit me!” she wailed. “Mommy, I didn’t!” Violet cried, her voice trembling. “You did!” Jenny sobbed. “You said I stole your place for three years and that you wanted me to die! Mommy, I can leave and give her back her spot, just please don’t let me die! I’m scared I won’t see you again if I die!” Violet opened her mouth to argue, but then clamped it shut, her head bowed. If I try to explain, Mommy will just think I’m a bad kid who won’t admit when I’m wrong. In my last life, whenever Jenny bullied me, Daddy and my brothers only ever believed her. They thought I was a liar who started fights and then played the victim. A sharp pain lanced through my chest. I looked at my timid, cautious daughter, already preparing to apologize for something she didn’t do. I immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her with my body. “Jenny, I saw the whole thing,” I said, my voice cold and even. “You were the one who started tearing at Violet’s dress. Why are you lying and saying she hit you?” Jenny stared at me, her face a picture of disbelief. “You don’t believe me? You believe this… this stray?” she screamed. “You’re her real mother, so I’m the outsider! You’re ganging up on me! You promised you would still love me even after she came back, but you lied!” With a final, theatrical sob, Jenny ran upstairs and slammed her bedroom door. As angry as I was, a part of me understood. She’d been the pampered center of our universe for six years. To suddenly learn she wasn’t our biological child had to be a terrible shock. Her hostility toward Violet was… understandable, for a child. I took a deep breath, ready to go up and have a calm, patient talk with her. But as I approached her door, I heard her voice, dripping with venom. “That old hag is already taking her side. I’m crying my eyes out, and she actually cares about the ‘truth.’ The truth is that little beast should just die! Just wait until she’s not home. I’ll teach that animal a lesson she’ll never forget.” My hand, raised to knock, froze in mid-air. I couldn’t believe the child I had nurtured and adored could harbor such ugly thoughts. Just then, Violet came up behind me, tugging timidly on my sleeve. “Mommy, I don’t want to go to school anymore,” she whispered, her eyes wet with tears. Jenny is so mad today. She’s going to kill me. I don’t want to be locked in the kennel with the dog like last time. The dog bites so hard. It bit off my nose and my ears. Hearing this, the last of my restraint shattered. After Violet was returned to us, I’d felt pity for Jenny. I wanted to treat them both equally. But she wasn’t just acting like a princess; she was a monster, tormenting my real daughter. I immediately called for the nanny. “Pack Miss Jenny’s things,” I ordered, my voice ringing through the hall. “She’s being sent to a group home.” The stream of curses from Jenny’s room stopped abruptly. The nanny just stared at me. “Ma’am, how can you be so biased?” she clucked disapprovingly. “Miss Jenny is heartbroken. How can you be so cruel? People will talk.” She sniffed. “Besides, Miss Jenny is so bright and clever, she’ll be a great success one day. Unlike Violet… so timid and weak. Who knows what will become of her.” I slapped the nanny so hard her head snapped to the side. “Who the hell do you think you are, judging my daughters?” I snarled. “You have two choices: take Jenny to the home now, or pack your own bags and get out!” The nanny panicked. “Ma’am, maybe we should wait for Mr. Stephen to come home. The man should be the one to make these decisions…” I laughed, a cold, bitter sound. This entire house, this entire fortune, was mine. Stephen had married into my family. And this nanny, with her archaic ideas, dared to lecture me? “Even when Stephen gets here, he’ll do as I say,” I said, my voice deadly quiet. “And you? You’re fired.” I called the estate manager right then and there and had her terminated. As the security guards threw her luggage onto the curb, the nanny shrieked that Stephen would make me pay. I watched the front gate close on her, a grim satisfaction settling in my heart. In the car, I turned to Violet. “If anyone, and I mean anyone, ever bullies you again, you tell Mommy immediately. I will always protect you.” Tears welled in Violet’s eyes, but then she broke into a radiant smile and nodded fiercely. And then, I heard her thoughts again. Mommy is nothing like the mommy Daddy told me about. Was Daddy lying? Does Mommy actually love me? But then why… why in my last life, when I was dying and begged Daddy to call her, did he tell me Mommy didn’t want to see me? My blood ran cold. Was Stephen involved in this? My suspicion solidified the moment we arrived at the prestigious academy. The headmistress informed me that Violet wasn’t on the enrollment list. I had explicitly told Stephen to register both girls and to gift each of them 10% of my company’s stock as an enrollment present. “Please, check again,” I insisted. “Jenny and Violet Sinclair were registered together.” The headmistress shot a contemptuous look at Violet. “Mr. Stephen came by himself,” she said smugly. “He said that he would be gifting the full twenty percent of Sinclair Industries stock to his daughter, Jenny. As for this one,” she gestured dismissively at Violet, “is she an illegitimate child or something? She certainly isn’t entitled to any shares.” “How dare you?” I exploded. “How dare you slander my daughter? The Sinclair stock is mine, and I’ll give it to whomever I damn well please!” She smirked, but before she could retort, her expression morphed into one of fawning adoration. “Mr. Stephen! What a pleasant surprise!” I turned and saw him hurrying toward us. He ignored the headmistress, his face a mask of concern. “Honey, what happened at home? I heard Jenny was hysterical.” I slapped him again. “Why didn’t you enroll our daughter?” He finally seemed to notice the situation, stammering, “Violet just came from an orphanage… I was worried she wouldn’t adapt to a private academy. I didn’t want her to be bullied.” “Violet is the sole heiress to Sinclair Industries. Who would dare bully her?” I shot back. “And if they did, she needs to learn to fight back. How else will she run a multi-billion dollar corporation?” Stephen froze. “What do you mean, sole heiress? What about Jenny? And what about our three sons? How can you be so biased?” “Our family business has always been passed down to the women,” I said coolly. “You didn’t seem to have a problem when I said I was giving it to Jenny. Why is it an issue now that it’s Violet’s turn? And don’t you dare talk to me about bias. This woman just told me you were giving twenty percent of my company to Jenny.” Stephen looked at the headmistress in shock. The headmistress, completely misreading the situation, pointed a finger at me. “A mistress should know her place! Don’t get too arrogant. Mr. Stephen can replace you in a heartbeat!” “What the hell are you talking about?” Stephen roared, his face turning purple. “I’m the one who can’t live without my wife!” The headmistress finally realized her mistake and shrank back.

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The Nth time Parker Presley threatened to break up, I was pulling an all-nighter on my promotion pitch. “Ivy Reed, you have twenty minutes to get to the club and apologize, or we’re done.” I snapped. “This is crucial for my promotion. Can you pick another day to cause a scene?” His voice turned icy. “A scene? Clearly your work matters more. We’re done.” He paused. “And I can be very petty. One call from me, and that promotion vanishes.” I slammed the phone down, trembling. But as I stared into the dark monitor, strange comments scrolled like subtitles across my vision: 【She’s not taking him seriously, is he? He secretly fast-tracked her promotion!】 【If she showed she’d drop her career for him, he’d give her the whole company. He’d never sabotage her.】 【That’s how avoidant types are—we push you away hoping you’ll hold on tighter.】 【He’s probably outside waiting for her to chase him. I live for this angsty romance!】 Doubt crept in. I almost grabbed my coat when a new message lit up my screen: “Heard your promotion’s on the rocks. Interested in jumping ship?” 1 I stared at the bizarre message, trying to place the sender. The display name was just a pair of stylized wings. After confirming it wasn’t a prank, I was still drawing a blank. Could it be Parker, testing me with a burner account? I dismissed the thought almost immediately. Parker was far too proud for such games. In our ten years together, I was always the one to bend, to apologize, to make peace. The late-night cab ride to win him back was a scene we’d rehearsed countless times. My devotion had always been his safety net, making him fearless. So, who sent the message? The phantom comments provided an answer. 【It’s his arch-rival, trying to poach his girl! He must have overheard Parker on the phone in the club’s restroom. He moves fast.】 【Ivy isn’t just Parker’s lover; she’s a rising star at Presley Corp. Of course, Adrian Thorne, as the rival CEO, would try to snatch her up.】 【Come on, you really think the infamous Adrian Thorne, the man who supposedly fantasizes about her nightly, is doing this purely for business?】 My eyes narrowed. Adrian Thorne. I had led the team that beat Thorne Industries on the last major bid. At the corporate gala that night, someone had drunkenly suggested we should connect, to foster “friendly competition.” He hadn’t even glanced at me. I stood there, my smile frozen on my face, until he finally, coldly, held out his phone for a QR scan. I’d assumed he deleted my contact the second he got home. Apparently not. Still, I only half-believed the spectral commentary. Parker never hid our relationship, but in public, he treated me with the detached chill of a superior. To the uninformed, I was just another corporate drone earning a modest salary. Adrian loved to mock him for it. “Keeping a workhorse who warms your bed for free,” he’d sneered once. “A brilliant businessman indeed, Mr. Presley.” Adrian Thorne looked down on me. This offer felt less like a genuine opportunity and more like a calculated move to spite Parker. I swiped his message away, only to see a voicemail from Parker’s assistant. “Ivy, you have to come down here. Mr. Presley is drunk and refuses to leave.” He followed up with a short video of Parker making a scene. I hesitated, starting to change my clothes, but then I froze. At the thirty-second mark, Stella Moon’s silvery laugh cut through the noise. 【Here we go again. He always calls the other woman over just to make the heroine jealous.】 【It works every time, though. The moment he threatens to replace her, she loses her mind.】 【Just go, Ivy! I’ll bet my premium subscription that if you just apologize and coax him a little, he’ll be on his knees for you tonight.】 【I get him completely. There’s nothing more satisfying than seeing your partner fall apart over the thought of losing you. It proves how much they love you.】 I stood there, stunned. So, the comments weren’t a hallucination. They called me the heroine, and Parker the hero. And just as they described, Parker was constantly threatening to leave, waiting for me to come running back. If I didn’t, he’d sic his entourage on me. But even when I did show up, he wouldn’t yield immediately. The last time, I took an overnight train to appease him. I walked into his hotel room, exhausted and disheveled. He didn’t even look at me, instead pulling Stella closer to him. “Who told you to call her? I thought she was so determined to break up.” But a moment later, his body betrayed him. He was across the room, his hand finding mine, leading me away. That night, he was insatiable, and the next day, he showered me with gifts and planned a lavish vacation to make up for it. I once asked him if he wasn’t afraid I’d actually leave. He’d buried his face in my neck, murmuring like a child. “My love would never leave me over something so small.” “Ivy, as long as you take one step towards me, I’ll always take the other ninety-nine.” But he didn’t understand. After being put through this wringer time and time again, I didn’t want to take a single step. This emotionally draining dance… I was done. When I didn’t reply, his assistant started calling incessantly. I wavered, wondering if I should just give in one last time. Then, a message from Stella popped up. “Parker says you don’t need to come. He’s taking me to see the sunrise!” She attached a video. “Parker, darling, Ivy still isn’t here. You don’t think she’s actually serious about breaking up, do you?” Parker downed his drink in one go. “We’re done. Don’t mention her.” He turned to Stella. “You’ve always wanted to see the sunrise with me, right? Let’s go.” His eyes flickered towards the camera for a split second. He knew she was recording. I took a deep breath and threw my phone onto the bed. I went back to polishing my presentation slides. Believing in my own capabilities was a much safer bet than trusting a phantom comment feed that claimed Parker had already guaranteed my promotion. Unlike Parker and Stella, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon. For someone like me, who started with nothing, every opportunity had to be seized with my own two hands. 2 Parker didn’t come home. I didn’t sleep a wink. The next morning, I walked into the office with a heavy heart, only to find him already there. He was impeccably dressed, his expression unreadable, radiating the oppressive aura of a CEO. He was a world away from the childish, volatile man from last night. I delivered my presentation, my voice tight with nerves. When I finished, he applauded along with everyone else, his gaze cool and professional. I was baffled. Had my refusal to play his game actually… worked? After the meeting, I found a small, elegant gift box on every desk. The Director of Finance next to me gasped. “Wow, having a CEO for a boyfriend has its perks! He’s even giving out gifts for his girlfriend’s promotion.” An admin assistant cleared her throat. “Actually, these are welcome gifts from the new executive assistant to the CEO.” The director was floored. “A limited-edition perfume for every single person? As a welcome gift? What is this, some new way for the rich kids to flex on us wage slaves?” The admin shot a nervous glance in my direction and pulled the director aside. “The new assistant is the sole heiress to the Moon Corporation, one of our biggest clients. Mr. Presley paid for the gifts himself. Said he wanted to help his childhood friend make a good impression.” So, it was Stella. Of course. Stella had always wanted a position at Presley Corp to get closer to Parker. Her family had repeatedly proposed a corporate marriage alliance between them. Parker had always refused, for my sake. But after one night, he’d caved. And he’d given her a position in the CEO’s office—his personal assistant. A position I, his actual girlfriend, was never allowed to hold. I tried to force the thoughts of what happened between them last night out of my head and opened a file, determined to work. A colleague informed me that Parker wanted to see me. It was perfect timing; I needed to see him too. I walked straight to the executive office. The door was ajar. Inside, Stella was perched on the edge of Parker’s desk, her back to me. The curve of her waist in the tight pencil skirt was cupped in Parker’s hand. A sharp, stinging pain shot through my own palm. I never thought I’d see him be so intimate with someone else. I cleared my throat. Stella jumped, startled. When she saw it was me, the smile vanished from her face. She pouted. “Been working here for years and you still don’t know to knock?” I flinched. I’d never once considered knocking on Parker’s door. “My apologies. Next time you’re doing something… private, you should remember to close the door.” Parker, who had been waiting for my outburst, saw the cold calm on my face and his expression shifted. But he quickly masked it. “What can I do for you, Mr. Presley?” I asked, my voice devoid of emotion. “Regarding your promotion,” he said evenly, “the board has decided to put it on hold.” Stella shot me a triumphant look. I stared at the tips of my shoes. “I see,” I murmured. He wasn’t lying. Because I didn’t come running, he had blocked my promotion with a flick of his wrist. A crushing weight settled in my chest, and a hot sting pricked the back of my eyes. Thank God for the phantom comments; their warning was the only thing allowing me to maintain my composure. “Okay. Noted.” The silence in the room was suffocating. “If you want to fight for it…” he started. “I don’t,” I cut him off. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll be going.” I turned sharply, but he called my name. “One more thing. The Atheria project will be handled by Stella from now on. You can transfer everything over to her today.” I whipped around. “What did you say?” I had poured six months of my life into the Atheria project. I’d gone months without a single day off, my nights fueled by a cocktail of pills just to get a few hours of restless sleep. That project was my lifeline. It was my chance to prove to everyone that I wasn’t just Parker’s girlfriend who’d coasted her way up. He knew how much it meant to me. He had even secretly pulled strings to help me secure resources. And now, just as it was about to bear fruit, he was handing it over to her? “Stella is new here. She needs a high-profile project to establish herself,” he said, his voice cold as steel. “The Atheria project is well-known and on the verge of success. It’s perfect for her to cut her teeth on.” My voice trembled, thick with unshed tears. “You know that project is everything to me. Why would you do this?” A cruel, vengeful smile touched his lips. “I told you. I’m petty. And I hold a grudge.” He leaned back in his chair. “Besides, I’m the boss. I don’t need your approval to assign a project. If you’re not happy, you’re free to resign.” Stella covered her mouth, her eyes sparkling with amusement. I looked from one to the other—her gloating, him utterly composed. They were both so certain I wouldn’t dare let go. “Fine,” I said, my voice ringing with a finality that wiped the smirk off Parker’s face. “I quit.” His smile vanished, replaced by disbelief. He raised his voice, a crack in his composure. “Ivy, don’t think for a second that being my girlfriend gives you the right to throw a tantrum. Don’t push me. I’m not afraid to let you walk!” I met his glare with a cold stare of my own. “You seem to be forgetting, Mr. Presley. We broke up.” He was speechless. Stella, seeing the escalating tension, feigned concern. “Parker, darling, maybe we should just forget it. I don’t want you two fighting because of me.” She then turned to me, her eyes glinting with provocation. “I’m so clumsy, I’d probably just mess up the project and waste all of Ivy’s hard work.” Parker stroked her hair, his voice dripping with affection. “It doesn’t matter if you mess it up. It’s just a small project. Trivial.” A hot rage surged through me, so powerful I had to physically restrain myself from lunging at them. My nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. “A company that uses projects to woo women isn’t a place I care to work for anyway.” I let out a bitter laugh. “I guess all my years of hard work were just thrown to the dogs.” Stella’s face contorted. “Who are you calling a dog?” “Whoever the shoe fits,” I sneered. “Ivy!” Parker’s face was thunderous. I turned and walked away without a backward glance. 3 I stumbled back to my desk like a zombie. Only when I was sure no one was looking did the tears finally come, hot and silent. The comments reappeared. 【You fool! That was all an act for you! The second you left, he kicked Stella out of his office.】 【He just wanted to see you get jealous and back down. He never thought you’d be stubborn enough to quit over it.】 【If you’re going to date a man in power, you have to learn to be submissive. You can’t have your pride and the money.】 【She’s not thinking straight. Without this job, who’s going to pay for her sick mother’s medical bills? Does she think her pride pays for prescription drugs?】 They were right. My mother’s life depended on an outrageously expensive imported medication. The salary Parker paid me was the only thing keeping her alive. If the treatment stopped, the only family I had left in this world would be gone. Just as the financial panic set in, a message from Parker appeared—a rare occurrence for him to initiate contact. “Apologize to Stella, and I’ll consider giving you the project back.” “I’ll also put you in charge of the new portfolio in the fall.” “And your access card. Come get it.” This was the first time Parker had ever backed down. The comments chimed in with their support. 【He’s finally bending! You have no idea how hard that is for a man with his pride.】 【As a fellow avoidant, I’m touched. We have to really love someone to be the first to apologize! Ivy, you have to cherish this!】 【Aside from his pride, he’s rich, handsome, and devoted. Don’t throw away a man like that.】 It was true. For all his theatrics, Parker had been good to me. If I could just endure this one aspect of him, he was, by all accounts, an excellent partner. But I typed my reply without hesitation. “My letter of resignation will be with HR by the end of the day.” A long pause. Then, his reply. “You’re serious?” “Fine. Don’t come crying to me later.” “Don’t regret this when you realize your stubbornness cost you both your relationship and your career.” I collapsed onto my desk, sobbing without a sound. My heart ached for our ten years together, and I mourned the job I loved. But I couldn’t accept being treated this way. He had a black hole of need inside him, and he tried to fill it by hurting me. I was trapped in a darkness with no end in sight, and I was losing myself. If our relationship was a slow, painful death, then it was better to end it myself. 4 I sent my resignation email, then pulled up Adrian Thorne’s contact. “Mr. Thorne, is your offer still on the table?” He replied instantly. “It is. But not for Parker Presley’s girlfriend.” Me: “Ex-girlfriend. And ex-employee.” Silence. My heart leaped into my throat. Had I been right? Was this all just a game to get back at Parker, and he never expected me to actually follow through? After what felt like an eternity, my phone buzzed. It was a picture of a stunning corner office with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the river. “The office is ready for you. Should I come pick you up for a tour?” I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. What kind of grudge did Adrian hold against Parker? I was just a mid-level manager at Presley Corp. Why was he rolling out the red carpet? “Let me finish the handover here first.” Him: “Don’t bother. Let’s twist the knife a little. Whatever the penalty is, I’ll cover it.” Before I could respond, another message came through. “You know what, never mind. Say a proper goodbye to your past. I know how breakups feel. If you need to get blackout drunk, call me. I’ll be your designated driver.” I sighed. No wonder people said Adrian Thorne was eccentric and unpredictable. This was… a lot. … Parker was nowhere to be seen for the rest of the afternoon. His assistant said he was personally escorting Stella on a tour of every department. A presidential escort—a privilege I’d never had. When I first joined the company, Parker was still finding his footing at Presley Corp. He was terrified of office gossip, so we kept our relationship a secret. He asked me to understand. Parker had been kidnapped as a child and spent three years living in the slums with me, collecting scrap to survive before his family found him. When he returned, his parents had already moved on, doting on their second son. Parker became an awkward, superfluous presence. He poured himself into his studies and his work, desperate for his family’s approval. To support him, I pretended not to know him for my first two years at the company. It wasn’t until I had a string of successful projects under my belt that we finally went public. And now, Parker, fully aware that people in the office shipped him and his “childhood sweetheart,” was parading her around without a second thought. That blatant favoritism was a knife in my heart. “See? I told you the billionaire CEO would end up marrying the girl from his own world. Stella joining the company is just the first step to becoming Mrs. Presley.” “Some people think climbing into the boss’s bed is a ticket to the top. They should take a look at where they come from first.” The whispers followed me as news of my resignation spread. Colleagues who had always disliked me no longer bothered to hide their contempt. I ignored the gossip. Growing up scrounging for tuition money, I’d been looked down on my whole life. I was used to it. Then, HR called. Her voice was strained. “Ivy… Ms. Moon says your office has a better view. She wants to move in. So… could you please clear out your things immediately?” Before I could answer, a guy from IT was standing in front of my desk. “Ms. Reed, I’m here to supervise your data transfer and ensure no company property is compromised upon your departure.” He spoke loudly, and the chatter around us intensified. I looked at my computer, where my access had already been revoked, and gave a bitter laugh. The humiliation was a deliberate, final stab from Parker. Fighting back tears, I numbly packed my personal belongings into a cardboard box. I tossed the gifts Parker had given me, along with a framed photo of us, into the trash. Box in my arms, I walked towards the elevator and ran right into Stella, who was handing out her little gift boxes. Parker stood beside her, his hand possessively on her arm. She blocked my path. “Don’t go yet, Ivy. The CEO is treating the whole company to a sushi buffet tonight to celebrate my arrival. You should eat before you leave, right?” Parker said nothing, his face a mask of indifference. The comments were more agitated than I was. 【That shameless bitch. Tonight’s dinner was supposed to be for Ivy’s promotion! Parker is just using her to provoke Ivy.】 【Please, Ivy, just give in! If you don’t go back, he’s going to drink himself into a stupor tonight, and Stella will take him home, and then it’ll be too late!】 I shoved past her. “Get out of my way. I’m busy.” She grabbed my arm. “Is it because you’re ashamed of being dumped? Or is it because you got fired for being incompetent and can’t bear to show your face around here anymore?” I stared at her smug, arrogant face and I snapped. I slapped her, hard. “Get lost. You’re not worthy of eating with me.” Stella shrieked and threw herself at Parker. “Parker, darling, she hit me! She’s a lunatic! She’s insane!” Parker shielded her, his eyes blazing with fury at me. I took a step closer to them. “And you,” I said, raising my hand to Parker. “You’re trash, too.” Before the slap could land, he caught my wrist in a vice-like grip and shoved me away. “Ivy! Cut the crazy act!” I stumbled back, hitting the wall. A sharp pain shot up my spine, but I forced myself to stand tall, blinking back tears. I met his glacial gaze. “I slapped your little girlfriend, Mr. Presley. If you have a problem with it, call the police.” 5 I strode out of the Presley Corp building, but a voice stopped me at the entrance. A man in dark sunglasses was leaning against a flamingo-pink convertible, a wicked smile playing on his lips. A group of girls walking by couldn’t help but pull out their phones to snap pictures. 【He’s here! The peacock has been waiting forever.】 【The moment he heard she was single, he just had to start showing off.】 I sighed internally but managed a weak smile as I approached. “Mr. Thorne? What are you doing here?” He gestured towards the passenger seat with his chin. “Came to collect the prize bull I just spent a fortune poaching. Got to get her into the new pasture, right?” I gritted my teeth and opened the car door. “Then let’s head to your office and go over my new role.” A smirk touched his lips as he floored the accelerator. “Don’t worry. I’ll drop you at the airport after our meeting. Wouldn’t want you to miss your trip.” I froze. “How did you know I bought a plane ticket?” He snapped his fingers. “Please. I’m Adrian Thorne.” Adrian led me into a conference room at Thorne Industries. After a brief introduction, he dove straight into work, no pleasantries exchanged. For a man with such a playboy reputation, he was ruthlessly efficient and meticulous. Two hours later, as promised, he drove me to the airport. He insisted on carrying my luggage all the way to the security gate. “We’ll be seeing each other again very soon,” he said as he handed it to me. His words were odd, but I was too drained to analyze them. He was just an odd person. Just then, a message from Parker came through. “Whose car did you just get into?” “I told you, I don’t tolerate betrayal, Ivy. Hiring some actor to pick you up to make me jealous? That’s pathetic.” I let out a hollow laugh. He thought Adrian was an actor I’d hired. The hypocrisy was astounding. Was his public groping of Stella not “betrayal”? I couldn’t be bothered to argue. “Mr. Presley, we have broken up. And I have resigned. My life is no longer any of your business.” A second later, he was calling me. “Ivy, you’ve taken this too far. There’s a limit to these tantrums.” I scoffed. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Presley, but wasn’t it you who broke up with me?” His voice frayed with emotion. “I may have said the words, but we had an agreement! You take one step, and I take the other ninety-nine. Ivy, why couldn’t you just bend for me this one time?” “I’m tired, Parker,” I said, each word heavy. “I don’t want to take any more steps.” He was silent for a moment, his tone softening when he spoke again. “If you’re tired, then take a break and come back. There’s a dinner tonight. Get some rest, dress up nicely. I’ll pick you up.” “I’m not going to Stella’s welcome party.” He paused. “It’s not for her. It was always for your promotion. If you come back tonight, we can start over with the promotion. If you’re worried about losing face, I’ll re-issue the announcement in a few weeks.” “Parker, are you deaf? We broke up. I quit. I am not coming tonight.” He hissed through his teeth. “Do you have to be so damn stubborn? Is it that hard to humble yourself for the man you love?” I laughed, a sharp, bitter sound. “Haven’t I humbled myself enough? Parker, when are you going to listen to me? I said I’m tired…” His breathing grew ragged. “I knew it. I don’t matter to you! Is this why you broke up with me? Because of that man who picked you up today? Ivy, how could you do this to us, after ten years?!” I felt a wave of helpless fury, wishing I could reach through the phone and shake him. Instead, I just ended the call and boarded the plane. As the flight attendant’s voice came over the intercom, I stared out the window. Behind me lay a decade of heavy, suffocating love for Parker, tangled with tears, resentment, and a pain I could never voice. Ahead of me was a new sky, vast and open.

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As I was mopping the floor, my husband, Leo, walked by and scoffed. “Look at you. This is your life now.” I froze. “What did you just say? I’m up at six every morning cooking and cleaning. I handle the school runs, take care of the elders, and help with homework until midnight. What gives you the right to say that to me?” My son, Finn, pouted. “You take good care of us, I guess, but you’re nothing like Aunt Mia.” Mia. My own sister. She’d recently returned from abroad and treated us to one dinner, and they hadn’t stopped talking about it since. My daughter, Fiona, chimed in, her voice full of dissatisfaction. “Aunt Mia always wears high heels, and she understands things like Western philosophy. Mom, you’re just… embarrassing.” I was about to reprimand them when Leo stopped me. “See? You get so defensive over a few words. Fine, if you don’t want to hear it, we won’t say it. Happy now? Mia would never be this emotional.” That day, I walked away from the unfolded laundry, the dirty floors, and the sink full of dishes. I also left behind a signed divorce agreement. … I was eating a slice of chocolate cake when Fiona spotted me. She ran over, her hand outstretched. “Mommy, you’re eating without me! I want some!” I met her gaze. Then I put the last bite into my mouth. “Waaah! Mommy stole my food!” Fiona plopped down on the floor and began to wail. Unlike before, I didn’t rush to comfort her. I simply wiped my mouth, threw away the paper plate, and walked right past her as she screamed. Her cries brought Finn running down the stairs to see what was wrong. I didn’t even glance his way. After giving birth to the twins, I hadn’t tasted a single bite of cake. Leo only remembered the children’s birthdays. He hadn’t even realized that the day my sister returned—the day of that infamous dinner—was also my birthday. I had grown used to it. But in this family, not a single person was grateful for my sacrifices. The chocolate cake was delicious. The front door opened, and I heard Fiona’s cries escalate. “Daddy! Mommy stole my cake!” Finn eagerly chimed in. “It’s true! Mommy was eating all by herself and she pushed Fiona! She wouldn’t let her have any!” “Mommy is so mean! Daddy, you have to punish her!” I never understood it. I was the one with them seven days a week, yet they always preferred their father, the man who only showed up on Saturday nights. “Hannah, you’re being ridiculous,” Leo said, his voice laced with that familiar, weary disapproval. “You’re the mother. Are you really going to squabble with your own children?” He knelt down to face them. “Don’t cry, you two. If Mommy won’t give you any, Daddy will buy you some. What do you want?” Watching the three of them, a perfect picture of familial bliss, only filled me with disgust. I turned to leave, but he stopped me, his brow furrowed. “Hannah! You haven’t apologized to the children yet!” I looked back at him. “I don’t want to.” He stared, dumbfounded. The twins, seeing his reaction, burst into fresh tears. I looked at their crying faces, a bitter smile touching my lips. Leo took them out for treats. Finally, the house was quiet. I let the exhaustion of the past few weeks wash over me and fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up, they were already home and asleep. I was thirsty. I went to the water cooler, but the moment my hand touched the button for hot water, a violent jolt shot up my arm. With a loud pop, the machine exploded. The glass in my hand shattered, and scalding water sprayed across my body, sending me crashing down into a puddle of boiling water and broken glass. “Hahahahahaha!” From upstairs, I heard Finn’s triumphant laughter. “It worked! Mr. Henderson’s lesson on rewiring circuits actually worked! The water cooler really blew up!” Fiona appeared at the top of the stairs, cheering. She pulled down one of her eyelids and stuck out her tongue. “Nyah nyah! That’s what you get for not sharing your cake! You got punished by my big brother!” I was someone who had lost my own chance at a proper education, so I had poured every resource I could into my children’s. I had chosen that electronics class for Finn, never imagining he would use that knowledge against me. The pain faded into the background. I pulled both children down the stairs and spanked them, hard. Their screams woke Leo. Finn wailed, “Daddy! Mommy’s burning us with hot water! And she’s hitting us!” “Hannah!” Leo stormed down the stairs. He didn’t see the raw, red skin on my arms and face. He only saw a monster. He shoved me, and I fell to the floor. The force of the push tore a large patch of blistered skin from the back of my hand. He didn’t seem to notice the blood pooling on the floor. He was righteous in his fury. “They’re your children! Have you lost your mind? What if they had gotten hurt by that hot water? Are you even a mother anymore?!” He scooped up Fiona, grabbed Finn’s hand, and stormed out. My hand shaking, I dialed 911. While I waited for the ambulance, my thoughts drifted to my sister. To the single study-abroad scholarship that had been available, the one that only she and I were qualified for. I was the better student, but my parents had said, “You’re the older sister,” and so I gave it to her. Then came marriage and children, each step orchestrated by my parents. When Leo went from a junior employee to a CEO, they saw it as proof of their brilliant decision-making. I was loaded into the ambulance, alone. When I woke up in the hospital, my sister was sitting by my bed. She was on the phone with Leo. “My sister is lying in a hospital bed, and you can’t even be bothered to visit? I really thought you were a decent guy!” For the first time ever, Leo, the man who was always chauffeured everywhere, drove himself to the hospital to pick me up, with the children in tow. They insisted I take the front passenger seat. But only because both kids wanted to sit next to their Aunt Mia. Leo, who was usually silent whenever we were in the car together, talked the entire way home. The history of Western philosophy, the critique of Lucas, the critique of pure reason… I couldn’t get a word in. Mia was dressed in a chic, academic style, her heels gleaming, her hands perfectly manicured. I was wearing faded jeans and a pilled sweater, a thick bandage wrapped around my hand. I felt like a relic from a forgotten era, a scrap of old cloth gazing up at the bright, shining star that was Mia. I closed my eyes. When we got home, Leo said, matter-of-factly, “Go make dinner, honey.” Pain shot through my bandaged hands. “No.” He froze, shocked that I would dare to defy him. The children glared at me. Leo shot a quick glance at Mia, then lowered his voice, hissing, “We can talk about this later. Mia is here! Are you going to make our guest wait?” “It’s okay! I’ll do it! My sister is still hurt!” Mia stepped between us. Leo shot me a look of pure annoyance. “She brought this on herself. Does she even look like a mother anymore?” Mia gave him a disapproving glare and went into the kitchen. But a flower raised in an ivory tower was no match for a stove and a skillet. A few minutes later, she emerged, coughing, a smudge of soot on her cheek, holding a plate of charred chicken wings. I sighed, about to get up and cook myself, but Leo rushed to take the hot plate from her. “Wow, Mia, I didn’t know you could make chicken wings.” I stared at him. The children ran forward, their hands raised. “Let me! Let me! I want to help Aunt Mia carry the plate!” “Aunt Mia, you’re the best cook! These are the best chicken wings I’ve ever seen!” Mia blushed. “You’re all just trying to flatter me.” “No, it’s true,” Leo said, taking a whiff of the burnt, bitter-smelling wings. He smiled. “They smell amazing.” He glanced at me. “You should learn a thing or two.” My fists clenched. The throbbing pain in my hand was the only thing that kept the pain in my heart at bay. “Did I not learn?” Leo froze. The atmosphere shifted. Mia tried to intervene. “Hannah…” “Did I not learn?” I repeated, my voice louder now. “Hannah, what are you…” “Leo, I have cooked for you and our children for five years. The instructor at my culinary class wanted to enter me into competitions. But you said my cooking was boring, so I gave up competing and learned decorative carving instead. Then, when you saw the elaborate fruit and vegetable sculptures I spent five hours creating, you said I was ‘wasting my time on useless things.’ So tell me, Leo, what exactly am I supposed to learn?” Mia whispered, “Hey, sis…” “Don’t,” I cut her off. “I don’t want to hate you.” Mia looked stunned. “Don’t listen to Mommy, Aunt Mia! She’s a bad mommy! I think your food is way better!” Finn shouted. Fiona quickly agreed. “That’s right, Aunt Mia! Mommy is just trying to make herself feel important, but her cooking is not as good as yours.” I looked at my children, then turned and walked away. Mia tried to stop me, but the father and his two children held her back. I didn’t go home for a long time. I spent my days filling out applications for study abroad programs. If I was once more qualified than my sister for that scholarship, then maybe, even a few years later, I still had a chance. I was in the middle of an English proficiency test when my phone started ringing nonstop. It was Leo, his voice frayed with irritation. “Where are you? The house… it’s not working without you.” In the background, I could hear Fiona crying. “I’m hungry! I don’t want takeout! I want Mommy’s cooking! I want Mommy, waaaah…” Finn was sobbing too. “I want the big watermelons Mommy used to carve…” Leo sighed. “Hannah, come home. Can you really bear to see the kids suffering like this?” Hearing their cries, my heart clenched. My pen hovered over the test paper. I hesitated. “No, I don’t think so.” I hung up and switched my phone to silent. The test results came back quickly. An 8.0 on the IELTS. I kissed the score report. My skills hadn’t faded after all. My application was accepted. With my English proficiency confirmed, all that was left was the paperwork. Leo tried to call a few more times, but I always made an excuse. I never expected that on the day I was scheduled to get my passport, I would get a call from my parents. “We’re at Leo’s. You need to come over.” By the time I arrived, my parents had cooked a feast for the children. “Look at the state these kids are in! All you do is enjoy yourself out there! You have no consideration for your family!” I had heard these words a thousand times. Leo sat to the side, legs crossed, watching me with a detached expression. I held up my bandaged hand. “It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that these two have gone too far.” “Why are you getting angry at children? If they’re misbehaving, it’s because you, their mother, failed to teach them properly!” A stone settled in my chest, and my eyes began to sting. “How else am I supposed to teach them? From the moment I open my eyes, my entire world revolves around them. I barely sleep! What more do you want from me? And why don’t you ever say anything to Leo? He’s their father too! What has he ever done besides show up on a Saturday with presents?” Leo stiffened. My mother was momentarily speechless. But only for a moment. “He’s a man. So what if he’s a little less attentive? Your sister would never be so petty. The truth is, you’re just unwilling to make any sacrifices, but you still expect us to be grateful. How did I raise such a thoughtless child?” I bit my lip. “Fine. I’m selfish. I’m thoughtless. In that case, I’ll leave. You can give this family to Mia.” The children’s eyes lit up. “Wait! What are you doing?” My mother shouted, rushing into the bedroom after me as I started packing. I pulled a stack of books from my suitcase. “I’ve been accepted to a university abroad. I won’t be here to be thoughtless anymore.” “So that’s it! No wonder you haven’t been acting like a mother!” She snatched the books from my arms. I tried to grab them back, but my father kicked me hard in the stomach. “So this is why my poor grandchildren haven’t been eating properly. What, you see your sister getting an education and you think you can copy her?” My father swept my books onto the floor and began stomping on them. Principles of Economics, Intermediate and Advanced Macroeconomics, Advanced Calculus, Advanced Physics… and a dozen notebooks filled with my own notes. He stomped and tore, page by page. “Don’t!!” “You think reading a few books makes you just like your sister? You neglect your children, you neglect your home, all to dream about things you don’t deserve!” I managed to rescue a calculus textbook, clutching it to my chest, my voice raw. “I only studied these after the kids were asleep and the chores were done! This is all I have from five years of stolen moments! And you’re destroying it! Why don’t I deserve it? I was always the better student!” SLAP! My mother’s hand trembled with rage. “You’re insane! Shouting at your elders like that!” I covered my cheek, the sting sharper than the pain in my hand. I pushed them away, gathered my ruined books from the floor, and left without looking back. They screamed at me, but I didn’t stop. I shoved Leo aside when he tried to block the door and slammed it shut behind me. My mind was made up. Nothing could change it. But I never imagined that the next day, my parents would take their drama to the streets. They lay down in the middle of the road, causing such a scene that the police called me. When I rushed home, the living room was packed. My parents had called every relative I knew, and some I didn’t. Mia sat beside them, dabbing at their tears with a tissue. My children were there too. “Grandma, Grandpa, don’t cry. When you cry, it makes Fiona and Finn sad too…” My parents hugged my sister and the children tightly. “Thank God we have one daughter who cares about us! If we only had the one, she probably would have poisoned us by now! And my poor grandbabies, stuck with a mother like that…” The relatives turned their judgmental eyes on me. “Hannah, parents are never in the wrong. They worked so hard to raise you. How could you push them to this?” “Don’t be so ungrateful. Your mother could barely eat when she was pregnant with you. You should apologize!” “Exactly! They sacrificed everything for you! Especially your mom, she could hardly even turn over in bed when she was carrying you. Show some respect!” My mother shook her head, sobbing. “It’s fine… I’m used to it. The older one was never as considerate as the younger one. It’s my fault. We just don’t deserve her respect.” “Mom, Dad, you all say I’m thoughtless, but how am I supposed to be thoughtful?” My eyes welled up. “When we were kids, there was only one doll. You said, ‘You’re the older sister,’ so I gave it up. When we were older, there was only one scholarship. You said, ‘You’re the older sister,’ so I gave that up too. When the family needed money, you didn’t want Mia to have to marry for a dowry. You said, ‘You’re the older sister,’ so I got married! All my life, I have been the thoughtful one, but the more thoughtful I am, the more you demand from me! I’ve been thoughtful for twenty-five years. How is it that Mia gets to be selfish her entire life? What do I have to do to be considered thoughtful? Do I have to die?” Leo looked at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. My mother’s eyes went wide. She suddenly shot up from the couch. The others reacted just in time, grabbing her before she could slam her head into the wall. “Let me die! My own daughter is cursing me to die! Did you hear her? She’s telling me to kill myself!” I was stunned. My aunt grabbed a handful of my hair and slapped me twice across the face. “That’s your mother! How dare you speak to her that way!” As she lunged, she tripped on one of Finn’s toys and fell backward onto the floor. The relatives exploded. “She’s your elder! How could you attack your own aunt!” I was shoved into a corner. Hands slapped at me, one after another. I felt the skin on my hand tear open again. Mia pushed her way through the crowd and stood in front of me. “Everyone, please stop! My sister is still injured!” She pulled me to my feet. “Hannah, just apologize. It will make everyone happy.” I looked at my sister through red, tear-filled eyes. The relatives sighed. “Poor Mia, having such a troublesome sister.” “See? That’s what a good education abroad does for you. So sensible.” “Hannah! Apologize now!” My parents, surrounded by a comforting circle of relatives, looked over at me as they wiped their tears. “She thinks she’s some kind of intellectual now. And intellectuals are never wrong, are they? We wouldn’t dare ask for an apology. We should be kneeling to her for allowing us to be her parents.” I wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth. “Since you’re all so miserable, let’s just cut ties.” My parents’ crying stopped abruptly. I turned to Leo. “And as for my husband… I’m vacating my position. You can marry whoever you want.”

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I was folding my girlfriend’s clothes when she suddenly spoke. “You’re pathetic, you know that? Worse than a doormat.” My hands froze. Before I could say anything, she cut me off. “Of course, you love me, I know that. You’re responsible and you take good care of me. But sometimes… you just don’t measure up to Asher. The things you do, anyone could do them. You’re nothing compared to him.” My mind flashed back to a month ago, when her ex-boyfriend had invited her to a concert. I had declined on her behalf. She was still holding it against me. I dropped the clothes and turned to leave. Just that morning, my boss had offered me a position at our overseas branch. I’d turned it down for her. But now, as I was finally walking away, leaving the space open for her ex, why was she the one crying and begging me to come back? 1 I threw the clothes on the bed. Ava sat there, watching me walk to the door. “What, was I wrong?” “There’s another show tonight, isn’t there?” I said, my hand tightening on the doorknob. “All this passive-aggressive nonsense is just about that, right? Go or don’t go. I don’t care.” She’d never heard me talk back to her before. A slow, incredulous smile spread across her face. “You really think I wouldn’t dare?” “Do whatever you want.” “Leo!” she called out as I opened the door. “What is that supposed to mean? Was anything I said untrue? Will you be happy if you force me to go?” “I told you. Do whatever you want.” I shut the door behind me. A few steps down the hall, I heard the sound of a glass shattering against a wall. I sat in a Starbucks, stirring my coffee and scrolling through my contacts for Ms. Lang’s number. I’d been saving every penny for a down payment on a house for us. The most expensive drink I’d had in years was a two-dollar iced tea. This Starbucks… wasn’t as good as I’d imagined. But I felt a strange sense of liberation. Ms. Lang answered on the second ring. I didn’t waste any time. “Ms. Lang, that offer to transfer to the overseas branch… is it still open?” She paused, then chuckled. “As long as you’re willing to take it.” “I am!” “And your fiancée… the wedding…” “We broke up.” Instead of offering condolences, Ms. Lang burst out laughing. “Good. It’s about time you came to your senses.” For six years, everyone had been subtly and not-so-subtly reminding me that my career was far more important than Ava. When her reckless startup failed, they’d told me I had a bright future and shouldn’t be dragged down with her. But at the time, I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her when she was at her lowest. And yet, her ex-boyfriend—the one who had dumped her for being poor and run off with a rich girl from overseas—had now come crawling back, just as she’d made a name for herself. And she was letting him. My phone buzzed. It was a new post from Asher. A picture of the two of them, nestled close together, their faces projected onto the giant screen at the concert. Their hands were joined to form a heart for the entire arena to see. No one would doubt for a second that they were a couple. The caption read: After all this time, the right person was waiting for me right where I left them. Ava had liked the post. I took a screenshot and sent it to my best friend. I can’t deal with these two drama queens anymore. He sent back a question mark, along with a screenshot of a blank social media page. I tried sending it to a few other people. They couldn’t see it either. Asher had set the post’s privacy to be visible only to me and Ava. No, that wasn’t right. It was visible only to me. I let out a cold laugh, then blocked and deleted him. 2 After getting the overseas transfer contract from Ms. Lang, most of my anger had dissipated. I had a week before my flight, and I wasn’t about to spend it waiting on Ava. But when I got back to our apartment to pack, I found the place in chaos. Asher was standing in the kitchen, holding a plate of burnt chicken wings. “Ava, darling, are you sure it’s okay for me to make such a mess?” Ava, who was usually a neat freak, just shrugged. “It’s fine. Leo will clean it up.” “Ah, why can’t I be as good at housework as Leo?” “Don’t be silly. That’s work even a maid would turn her nose up at. It’s certainly not for you.” I walked straight past them and into the bedroom to pack my things. Ava looked stunned. Asher put down the chicken wings and followed me. “Leo, I…” Thump. I shoved him. But he flew backward as if he’d been hit by a truck, crashing to the floor. “Asher!” Ava rushed to his side, then glared at me. “Leo, I brought him here. If you’re angry, take it out on me!” My fists clenched. I ignored them and started throwing my things out of the closet and into a suitcase. A document fluttered out and landed at Asher’s feet. He picked it up. His eyes widened, and a flush of red crept up his neck. He dropped the paper and turned to leave. “Asher!” Ava grabbed his arm. He struggled. “Let go! You two are engaged!” I looked down. It was our engagement agreement. 3 Ava held onto Asher’s arm for dear life. He looked heartbroken, but he wasn’t actually trying to leave. “Leo,” Ava said, her voice tight with anger as she struggled to hold onto him. “Apologize.” I blinked. “For what?” “If you hadn’t insisted on this stupid engagement agreement, he wouldn’t be so upset right now! You were pretending to pack, but you just wanted him to see it, didn’t you?” I laughed, a sharp, incredulous sound. “Ava, I never realized you were this stupid.” She stared at me, speechless. I turned to Asher. “Did you not realize we were living together? Did you not know we were a couple? If you knew all that, why did you even ask if I was angry before? You knew everything, so who is this ‘I’m so shocked and betrayed’ act for?” His eyes grew redder. He made another show of leaving, and Ava held him back. “Leo! That’s enough!” I continued packing, ignoring them. Asher struggled again. “Don’t stop me! Leo has the wrong idea! You’re engaged, I shouldn’t be here!” “Leo!” Ava’s grip on Asher’s wrist tightened as she glared at me. “Apologize!” My hands were balled into tight fists. “No.” “Are you sure?” My jaw was set. “I’m sure.” Ava stared at me for a few seconds, then bent down and picked up the engagement agreement. “See? This is why you’ll never be as good as Asher. All you know how to do is play petty games and get jealous. It’s so obvious you’ve never been abroad. Your worldview is so much smaller than his.” With that, she ripped the agreement in half. Then she tore it again, and again, until it was nothing but scraps. She threw the pieces in my face. She turned, took Asher’s hand, and walked out without a backward glance. I picked up a framed photo of us and smashed it against the floor. The fractured glass drew a line between our faces. I kicked the broken frame into the trash. 4 Three days passed without a word from either of us. We used to talk every single day. Our chat streak had lasted for over two thousand days. But for more than half of those, I was the one who had to start the conversation. In just three days, the flame had gone out. I was in a hotel, finalizing some paperwork for the transfer, when Ava called me, for the first time in ages. “You’re not home?” I kept working. “Do you need something?” She sent me a picture of the apartment. The trash was overflowing. The dishes in the sink looked like they’d been hastily rinsed, with greasy residue caked on them. A pile of her clothes was crumpled on the bed, un-ironed. “If you’re done playing around, you should come home. The place is a mess. You should at least show some concern.” “Isn’t Asher there?” “Asher wants to help, but he’s not good at this sort of thing. He’s used to a certain lifestyle abroad. He didn’t come back to do chores.” I didn’t have the energy to argue. “You’re a successful businesswoman. Just hire a maid.” She was silent for a moment. “Even the best maid isn’t as thorough as you. Asher has very high standards. They’re just not good enough.” “You’re insane,” I said, and hung up. She called back. I blocked her number. A few minutes later, I got a notification that my bank card had been frozen. It was a card Ava had given me. When her startup had failed, I’d stayed by her side. I encouraged her, supported her, and held down the fort at home so she could rebuild. I’d turned down multiple promotions to be there for her. Six years later, she was a respected CEO, and I was still a junior employee. The card was her way of “repaying” me, though most of the money went towards our shared expenses. She was trying to force me to come back. I was so glad I had accepted Ms. Lang’s offer. A new bank card, with a generous bonus for my promotion, was already in my wallet. I didn’t need her money anymore. The next day, I was finishing up my work at Starbucks when I saw Ava and Asher walk in. I stood up to leave, but Asher approached me, a friendly smile on his face. I didn’t understand how he could be so shameless after I’d made my disgust for him so clear. In the ensuing scuffle, my folder of documents fell to the floor. Asher’s eyes widened as he saw the top page. “A transfer letter? Leo… you’re going to the overseas branch!” 5 I snatched the documents from his hand. Ava stared at me. “You’re… leaving?” Asher’s eyes turned red. “Leo, did you know I was applying for that branch? Are you doing this just to show me up?” I was stunned. Ava frowned. “Leo, you saw that Asher has international experience, so you decided to copy him? That branch is his dream! What do you think you’re doing? Rescind the transfer.” I clutched the letter. “No way. Ava, I’m curious. He has a dream, so he gets to pursue it. But when I have one, I’m not allowed? What, are you afraid to let him go?” She hesitated. “I shouldn’t hold him back… He didn’t come back just to be tied to me. I can visit him often. I’ll always respect his freedom.” A knot tightened in my chest. “So you weren’t angry when he abandoned you all those years ago?” Ava closed her eyes. “He had his reasons. Was I really supposed to let him suffer in poverty with me? Leo, opportunities like this are rare. Be a good boy and give it up. I’ll pull some strings and get you a good job here. Stop trying to compete with Asher.” SLAP! The sound echoed through the cafe. Asher gasped and lunged at me. “Leo! How could you hit Ava?” He grabbed my arm. “I won’t go! Leo, don’t fight with Ava because of me, I…” SLAP! Another slap, this one for him. He stopped mid-sentence. “What is all this pathetic whining?” I carefully tucked the transfer letter back into my folder. Ava shielded Asher with her body. “You’re crazy!” I looked at them both, my voice cold. “I’m leaving. It’s my decision. Nothing you say will change my mind.” I glanced at Asher. “And don’t you ever pull this manipulative crap in front of me again. It’s disgusting.” I walked out, leaving the entire cafe staring after me. Ava watched me go, a look of shock on her face. She bit her lip, her eyes narrowed. 6 I was driving to deliver the documents, stopped at a red light, when a car slammed into me from behind. I stomped on the brake, but the car behind me kept accelerating. I laid on the horn, but they just pushed harder, until my car was shoved violently into a wall. Half my body was thrown out the window, my chest crushed between the airbag and the seat. I couldn’t breathe. We were on a deserted road. No one saw. My phone had been thrown somewhere in the car, out of reach. The door of the other car finally opened. Asher stumbled out, reeking of alcohol. He made a shaky phone call. A few minutes later, Ava’s car pulled up. I forced the air from my lungs, shouting through the pain. “Ava! Help me!” “Ava! I’m here!” Asher cried, collapsing onto the pavement. Ava looked from me, covered in blood, to Asher, who had a minor scrape on his ankle. She hesitated for a second, then rushed past me and helped Asher to his feet. “Ava!” I gasped, my vision swimming. “Help me first! Or just call 911! I… I can’t breathe…” “Stop being so dramatic,” she snapped. “It won’t take long to get him to the hospital. I’ll come back with an ambulance for you. Can’t you stop competing with Asher for once? Can’t you see he’s in real danger?” “Ava, I…” I tried to say more, but she was already helping Asher into her car. My pleas were lost in the dust. I don’t remember passing out. Or how a passerby found me and called for help. Thanks to timely medical treatment, my injuries weren’t life-threatening. The first thing I did was report the accident to the police. They traced the license plate back to Asher and opened an investigation. But when they questioned him, he was terrified. “I’m sorry… Leo, I don’t know what happened. I… I was sick.” “‘Sick’ gives you the right to nearly kill someone?!” I slammed my fist on the table. “Do you have any idea how close I was to dying?” “Stop it!” Ava pushed me away. “He has depression! Don’t you dare harass him!” “Depression?” I frowned. Sure enough, she produced a psychiatric evaluation. “He was having an episode. Do you have any idea how much he suffers?” I looked at the report and laughed. “You can buy a report like this from any shady clinic. What kind of depressive episode allows you to perfectly stage a hit-and-run in a place with no cameras, with your foot on the gas the entire time? This wasn’t an episode, it was attempted murder!” “Can you please stop tormenting a sick man? Do you need him to actually die before you’ll believe he’s ill?” Faced with her fury, I grabbed Asher by the collar. “Fine. Let’s see what the police have to say about his ‘illness’.” “Ah! No!” Asher started trembling. With just a slight tug from me, he acted as if I’d thrown him across the room. He crashed to the floor, knocking over a medical cart and cutting himself on the equipment. The police rushed in. Ava gritted her teeth. “Officer, I’d like to report Mr. Leo Anderson for assault!” Asher quickly underwent a new evaluation, this one signed by a reputable doctor. When Ava personally submitted the report, I recognized the doctor’s signature. He was one of her business partners. “Ava, I’m the victim here!” I screamed. She instinctively shielded Asher. “Alright, according to the public security regulations, you’ll be detained for a while. I’ll come get you in fifteen days.” Behind her, I saw a triumphant smirk on Asher’s face. I finally understood. It was all a setup. My flight was in two days. A fifteen-day detention would ensure I missed my transfer. There was only one spot available. With me out of the picture, Ava could easily use her influence to get him the position. And he, with his convenient mental health diagnosis, would walk away scot-free. “Ava, you can’t do this to me! You’re fabricating evidence!” Asher’s eyes turned red. “Leo, do I really have to die before you’ll believe me?” He lunged towards the wall, ready to smash his head against it. Ava threw her hand up, blocking his forehead. SLAP! She hit me, her eyes blazing. “Have you no conscience?” “Ava!” I tried to rush at her, but the police were already separating us. “Sir, if you continue to be violent, your detention will be extended.” I could only stand there, teeth clenched, as Ava led Asher away. “I’ll come for you in fifteen days,” she said over her shoulder. All my hope vanished. My one chance was gone. I spent two days in a daze in the holding cell. My phone had been confiscated. Ms. Lang had no idea what had happened to me. After a few hours of not being able to reach me, she would probably just leave without me. I felt a pang of guilt. She had given me so many opportunities, and when I finally accepted one, I’d let her down. “Leo Anderson?” A police officer appeared at my cell door. “Come on. Someone’s posted your bail.”

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I wrote 999 love letters to finally win over Stella Gleason, the ice queen of our university. But the day before our wedding, I overheard her complaining to her childhood friend about the typos in them. “It’s like a little kid wrote these. He should’ve just used an AI!” In that instant, I called off the wedding and pulled every last cent of my investment from her family’s company. Stella’s scream was pure panic. “It was just a joke between friends! You’d cancel our wedding over that?” Without a word, I brought up the AI marriage forecast I’d run on us. “You love AI so much? Then take a good long look,” I said, my voice flat. “A ‘catastrophic’ rating. You want that marriage? I wouldn’t touch it. It’s bad luck.” 1 Less than ten minutes after the investment was pulled, Stella kicked open the door to my office. “Kian, can’t you take a joke? Besides, Leo wasn’t wrong. Your letters did have typos!” I didn’t even bother to look up. I spoke to my secretary, who had followed her in. “Get the trading desk on the line. I want to pour a hundred million into Gleason’s biggest competitor. Short them into the ground.” Shock bloomed across Stella’s perfect face. “Are you insane? Do you have any idea how much money you’ll lose? Don’t think I won’t call your father right now!” Still trying to use my father against me? A cold smile touched my lips. I turned back to my secretary. “What are you waiting for? If the Gleason Corporation is still standing in an hour, you can clear out your desk.” “Wait!” For the first time, genuine fear flickered in Stella’s eyes. She walked toward me, her head bowed. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes welling up. “I was wrong. I’ll do anything you want, just… please don’t pull the funding.” I remained silent. She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out a simple, plain silver band. “I made this for you. For our wedding. Please, Kian, don’t be angry.” Her voice was soft, pleading. “The only reason I even noticed the typos was because I read every single word of every letter you sent me. I didn’t mean anything by it.” I waved a hand, dismissing my secretary. Seeing my resolve soften, Stella threw her arms around my neck and planted a quick, wet kiss on my cheek. “I booked a table at that French bistro you love. Let’s go now, we can talk over the final details for the wedding?” I looked into her hopeful eyes, and for a moment, my heart stirred. I was about to speak when the door burst open again. Leo rushed in and dropped to his knees in front of me. “Mr. Hayes, if you’re angry, take it out on me! Don’t you dare bully Stella.” He shot a protective glare at me. “She’s your fiancée, not some dog you can just kick around!” Then he turned to Stella, holding up his hand. On his ring finger was another plain silver band. “It’s a perfect fit, Stella. Thank you. This time, I swear I’ll protect you. I won’t let a bastard like Kian ruin you!” My eyes narrowed. The ring on his finger was a perfect match for the one Stella had just given me. Hers was a man’s ring. Mine was a woman’s. It turns out she was just regifting. And I got the girl’s ring. A wave of nausea washed over me, so strong it almost made me laugh. “Protect her?” I sneered. “Let’s start by calculating the penalty for trespassing in the CEO’s office.” Before I could finish, Stella moved, placing herself between me and Leo. “This is between us, Kian. Don’t drag anyone else into it. I told you, I’ll do whatever you want.” My fiancée, standing against me to protect her lover. I knew why. When the Gleason family went bankrupt years ago, Leo had dropped Stella and fled the country without a second thought. I was the one who stayed by her side. I ignored my board of directors and poured all my resources into her family’s failing company. Now that Gleason Inc. was finally back on its feet, her parents pushed for this marriage, eager to lock me in for good. They wanted my money and resources, no strings attached. And my grandmother… my grandmother had always adored Stella. She’d made it clear that Stella was the only woman she’d ever accept as her granddaughter-in-law. For Nana’s sake, to fulfill her dying wish, I was willing to overlook the money. I thought we would build a life together, that it would all work out. I never imagined Leo’s return would shatter everything. With that thought, my decision was made. My voice was ice. “Fine. You want the wedding to happen? Then from this moment on, you will never speak to him again.” 2 In the end, Stella deleted every one of Leo’s contacts in front of me. She even threw both of the offending silver rings into the trash. Watching Leo stalk out of my office, his face a mask of resentment, I felt a knot of anger in my chest finally loosen. I told my secretary the wedding was back on. After dinner, Stella said she needed her beauty sleep to be at her best for the big day. I didn’t think much of it and drove off to my bachelor party. Halfway through the night, my phone started vibrating nonstop. I pulled it out to see a notification from the security system at our new house. The smart mattress was sending an alert. When we were furnishing the place, I’d gone with the principle that more expensive is always better. The salesman had sold me on this high-tech mattress, boasting that it could track… activity… and would automatically send an alert if it detected any unusual frequencies. We weren’t supposed to move in until after the wedding tomorrow. The house should have been empty. A dark premonition washed over me. Ignoring my friends’ protests, I jumped in my car and sped home. The moment I walked in the door, I saw them: a trail of clothes, carelessly discarded on the living room floor. And from the master bedroom, I could hear the soft, unmistakable sounds of a man and a woman. I kicked the bedroom door open. Startled by the crash, Stella screamed, her naked body instinctively shrinking behind Leo. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what they’d been doing. A moment later, her shock turned to outrage. “Kian! Are you spying on me?” I held up my phone, the screen glowing with a red line of alerts. “Is this what you call beauty sleep?” A flicker of guilt crossed her face, but she quickly covered it, pulling the sheets around her as she tried to defend herself. “Leo and I grew up together! We used to sleep in the same bed as kids, we even took baths together! It’s not a big deal.” She pressed on, her voice gaining confidence. “Besides, I just wanted to say a proper goodbye. I promise you, after tonight, we’ll never see each other again.” While she spoke, Leo casually slipped into the silk robe I had bought specifically for my wedding night and sauntered over to me. “Hey, man,” he said, a smug look on his face. “Real love is about letting go, not control. She’s not even officially your wife yet. Tracking her like this? Not cool.” I gave him a look of utter contempt. “Fine,” I said, my voice dangerously calm. “I’ll let go right now. Let’s see if Stella dares to go with you.” At my words, Leo immediately turned and grabbed her hand. “Stella, you just told me you don’t have any feelings for him! Come with me. Please?” I waited, curious myself. Between love and money, what would she choose? After a long, tense moment, Stella slowly pulled her hand away from Leo’s. “You should go,” she said, her voice quiet. “Tomorrow, I’ll be a part of the Hayes family. We can’t see each other anymore.” Leo looked like he was about to argue, but Stella gave him a sharp push. He shot me a venomous look, as if I were some villain who had stolen his maiden fair. As Leo turned to leave, my voice cut through the silence. “Stop.” He froze. “Are you so broke you have to steal my robe? Take it off.” 3 I’d noticed it the moment I walked in. In their haste, they’d torn each other’s clothes to shreds. Stella’s face paled as she realized it too. “Kian, that’s just cruel! You can’t be serious. You’re going to make him walk out of here naked?” “Cruel?” The word was so absurd I almost laughed. “Let’s not forget, Stella, we’re not married yet. This house isn’t yours. You brought a stranger into my private residence in the middle of the night and used my things without permission. How do you think that would play in front of a judge?” Her face flushed with anger, but she couldn’t say a word. Trembling, Leo untied the belt of the robe, his voice laced with false humility. “I’m sorry, Kian. It was my mistake. I shouldn’t have worn your robe.” As the silk fell open, I saw them clearly: the angry red marks and scratches covering his chest. A testament to just how passionate their “goodbye” had been. Before I could say anything else, Stella stepped in front of him, shielding him with her body. “That’s enough, Kian! It’s a stupid robe! Do you have to push things this far?” She reached into her purse, pulled out a couple of crisp hundred-dollar bills, and threw them in my face. “There! I’ve bought it for him. Are you happy now?” The sharp edge of a bill caught my cheek, leaving a thin, stinging line of red. Stella’s voice, now dripping with venom, filled the room. “I never loved you. Not for a second. If your family wasn’t so powerful, do you think I would have ever agreed to this marriage? You’re only marrying me to make your grandmother happy, Kian. So don’t you dare act like you have any right to tell me what to do!” I stared down at the crumpled bills on the floor and let out a cold, empty laugh. She was right. I had no right. I met Leo’s triumphant gaze and offered him a faint, chilling smile. “Do whatever you want.” With that, I turned and walked out. I drove home alone. As soon as I stepped through the door, my phone buzzed with a text from her. [Don’t be late for the wedding tomorrow.] I knew what it was. Her idea of an apology. She’d done things like this before. After sneaking off to meet Leo, she’d come home and make me my favorite pasta. After ditching a family dinner with my parents to see him, she’d send a text offering to pick me up from work. She was too proud to ever truly apologize, so she offered these small, hollow gestures instead. My friends had seen it for what it was. They told me to cut her loose, to let her go. But I kept giving her chances. One after another. I always told myself it was for Nana. My grandmother was getting older, her memory fading. Some days she didn’t even recognize me, but she always, always recognized Stella as the woman I was meant to marry. I couldn’t bear to disappoint her. So I allowed it. I allowed Stella’s parents to sell her to me like a prized mare. But there were good times, too. I couldn’t forget them. It was Stella who had proposed to me, in front of all the cameras, declaring to the world that she wanted to be my wife. Whatever happened, I decided, I would see the wedding through. And then, afterward, we would have a final, definitive reckoning. I just never imagined it would come so soon. The next day, I arrived at the venue in my tuxedo, only to be blocked at the entrance by a wall of security guards. They gestured toward a large sign posted by the door. In bold letters, it read: NO DOGS OR KIAN HAYES ALLOWED. 4 For a second, I just stood there, stunned. Then my eyes landed on the giant wedding portrait. Instead of my face next to Stella’s, there was a beaming photo of her and Leo. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. I pulled out my phone and dialed her number. She answered on the second ring, but I cut her off before she could speak. “Is this your idea of a final reckoning?” I demanded. Her voice was calm, almost breezy. “The wedding was always just for show, for your Nana’s sake. And don’t worry, I already had someone pick her up and bring her here.” She paused. “So please, Kian, just let me have this one thing. Let me marry the man I love. I promise, after the ceremony is over, I’ll go to city hall with you and sign the papers.” Then she hung up. My mind snagged on one phrase: I already had someone pick her up. My grandmother was frail. She was kept alive by a cocktail of medications. She couldn’t handle being shuffled around like that! Panic seized me. I lunged for the doors, determined to find her, to get an explanation. But the guards were a solid wall, their grip like iron. The next thing I knew, I was being shoved backward, tumbling down the stone steps. A slow, mocking clap echoed from the top of the stairs. Leo stood there, dressed in a custom-tailored tuxedo, looking down at me with pure contempt. “Well, well, Kian. Putting on a little show for us?” he drawled. “Today’s my wedding day, you know. A bit rude to show up empty-handed. You and your grandmother both, tsk tsk.” I ignored his taunts, scrambling to my feet and grabbing him by the collar. “Where is she? Where is my grandmother?” Just then, Stella came running out of the hall, her white wedding gown trailing behind her. Her brow was furrowed in annoyance. “Kian!” she snapped. “You lay one finger on him and I swear…” I didn’t even look at her. My eyes were locked on Leo. “Where is my Nana?” A cruel smirk spread across Leo’s face. He suddenly threw his arms around me, making it look like we were wrestling, and we both tumbled back down the stairs. “Your senile old grandma wouldn’t believe I was the groom,” he whispered in my ear, his voice dripping with malice. “Kept insisting I take her to find Stella. So, I locked her in one of the cars on the street.” He chuckled. “It’s got to be over a hundred degrees today. If you don’t hurry, she might just bake in there.” My heart stopped. With a roar of pure fury, I drove my fist into his face. Then I scrambled away, stumbling toward the line of wedding cars parked along the curb. And there, in the passenger seat of the lead car, I saw her—a small, familiar, fragile silhouette. I pounded on the window, my eyes darting around for a rock, anything to break the glass. “Nana! Can you hear me? Nana!” It was the middle of the day, the sun beating down relentlessly. Inside that sealed metal box, the temperature would be lethal. For someone as frail as my grandmother, every second was critical. I stopped looking for a tool. I raised my fist and slammed it against the window. Again. And again. After a dozen blows, my hand was numb and bleeding, but the glass finally shattered. I reached through the jagged opening, ignoring the shards slicing into my skin, unlocked the door, and gently lifted her out. Her eyes were closed. She didn’t respond to my calls. In that moment, I wanted to tear Leo limb from limb. Looking at her face, ashen and still, my vision blurred with tears. “Nana, just hold on. The ambulance is on its way. I’m taking you to the hospital, just hold on!”

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I found it in a dusty corner of the attic: a wedding photo of my wife and my arch-rival. In the picture, their faces were pressed together intimately, a world away from the bitter, teeth-gritted tension that always crackled between them whenever they met. It turned out they had been living a secret love story behind my back for nearly a decade. I took a picture of the photo with my phone, then placed it exactly where I’d found it. I drafted the divorce papers, signed my name, and prepared to walk away from the life I thought I knew. 1 The wedding photo was immaculate, a single pristine object in the dusty, forgotten attic. It was obvious someone came up here often to look at it. For years, it had just been the two of us in this house. There was no question who that someone was. Back in college, my wife, Maya, had been the top student in the physics department. The man in the photo with her was David, the guy everyone jokingly called “perennial number two.” On campus, they were famous for their rivalry. Neither would ever concede an inch to the other. They were in the same program, yet when they passed each other in the halls, they were like strangers. But it was all a lie. In private, they had skipped past friendship, past dating, and straight to a bond more intimate than marriage. My gaze fell to the date stamped in the bottom-left corner of the photo. July 27, 2015. The second year of our marriage. I scrolled through my text history with Maya. Of course. Every year, on July 27th, like clockwork, she would send me the same message. “Hey babe, working late tonight. Don’t wait up for dinner. Love you.” Every time, she would come home late, head straight for the shower, and then crawl into bed to curl up against me, complaining about what a long day it had been. I never once doubted her. She had promised me she would never lie. Now I saw it for what it was: the perfect cover. Tomorrow was July 27th again. I had no doubt she was planning to go out. Taking a few deep breaths to steady my hands, I snapped a photo of their wedding picture, then carefully put the frame back in its place. Downstairs, I drew up a divorce agreement. After signing my name, I tucked it into my nightstand drawer. I cooked dinner, just like any other night, and waited for Maya to come home. At the table, she chattered about her day, the small, meaningless details, but then she noticed my silence. “Quinn? What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. I calmly set down my chopsticks, my bowl of rice barely touched, and met her eyes. “I heard they renovated the old track at State University. I was thinking of going back to see it.” State was our alma mater. It was where we had met, where we had fallen in love. Maya visibly relaxed, a smile blooming on her face. “Is that all? And here you are, a million miles away. Of course we can go. When do you want to see it? I’ll go with you.” “Tomorrow,” I said softly. The smile froze on her face. “Is that a problem? Or… are you working late tomorrow?” My voice was flat, betraying no emotion. But I saw it—the way her eyes darted away, the flicker of discomfort. Tomorrow was a Saturday. Her usual excuse would be some last-minute work emergency, but she couldn’t know that yet. She was trapped. She finally forced a smile. “Okay. Tomorrow it is.” That night, Maya was on edge, tapping away at her phone for hours. I pretended not to notice. I resisted the urge to pull out the divorce papers and make her sign them right then and there. The next morning, she was gone. A note was left on the kitchen table: “Babe, a critical dataset is corrupted. My boss called me in the middle of the night to fix it. I’ll come find you as soon as I’m done.” The paper trembled in my hand. I sent her a text. [I’m waiting for you at the main gate of the university.] Maya, who always replied to me in seconds, was silent. I stood at that gate for two hours. Then, the sky opened up. A torrential downpour started. I called her again and again. Each call went straight to voicemail. Then, finally, it didn’t even ring. The subscriber you have dialed has been powered off. In that moment, a cold, painful clarity washed over me. I took out my phone and sent her one last message. [Maya. Let’s get a divorce.] 2 I don’t remember how I got home that day. I just remember stumbling through the door, soaking wet and burning up with fever, collapsing onto the sofa, and then… nothing. When I woke up, I was in our bed, wearing clean clothes. Maya was sitting beside me, holding my hand tightly, her eyes filled with worry. “Quinn! You’re awake!” She sounded genuinely relieved. “You’ve been out for a day and a night. I was so scared. Thank God it’s just a fever. The medicine is working.” She squeezed my hand. “It was my fault. I got so caught up in work, I didn’t even look at my phone. But you shouldn’t joke about divorce like that. Here, look what I got you.” Like a magician, she produced two tickets from behind her back. “You’ve been wanting to see an MK match forever, right? I pulled some strings and got us front-row seats. I even took next week off so we can go together.” It was my favorite soccer team. Tickets were impossible to get. And a week of Maya’s time was even rarer. But I felt nothing. No joy, no excitement. I pushed the tickets away and reached into the nightstand, pulling out the folded divorce papers. I handed them to her. “I wasn’t joking yesterday.” Maya stared at me for a few seconds, then slammed the tickets down on the table. “Quinn, is this a game to you? Just because I had a work emergency and missed one date, you’re ready to throw away eight years of marriage?” Her voice cracked. “Do you have any idea how much it hurt to hear you say that?” I looked at her, at the tears welling in her eyes, and I couldn’t find a single trace of deceit. She was a brilliant actress. I was too tired for this. I didn’t want to play her games anymore. “Were you really at the office yesterday? Your boss has never, not once, called you in on a weekend. He knows you have a family.” My voice was quiet, weary. “Let’s just be honest, Maya.” “Where were you and David yesterday? Let me guess… a hotel?” A bitter laugh escaped my lips. The hotel was a wild guess. It had been pouring rain all day. Where else could they go? Her reaction told me everything I needed to know. “You had me followed?” she gasped. Then, she realized her mistake. She bit her lip, then took a deep breath, as if deciding to finally come clean. “Quinn, back in college, I hated David. I thought he was arrogant and stubborn, not a real man. But then, during a research exchange our junior year, I saw a different side of him. He was… earnest. Dedicated. I admit, my feelings for him started to change then. We started talking more, in secret.” She looked me straight in the eye, her expression pleading. “But the only man I have ever seen as my husband is you, Quinn! I would never, ever divorce you for him.” Her grand, romantic confession felt like a knife twisting in my gut. All this time, her heart had been divided. And I had been the fool who believed it belonged entirely to me. “I’ll cut him off completely, Quinn. I promise. Just give us one more chance. I’ll fix this.” After her heartfelt speech, she stood up, saying she would go make me some soup. I remained silent. My head, already aching from the fever, felt like it was splitting in two. The world swam around me, and I fell back into a deep, restless sleep. I don’t know how much time passed, but I was jolted awake by the acrid smell of smoke. Through the half-open bedroom door, I could see thick, black smoke billowing from the kitchen. “Maya! Maya, are you there?” I called out, my voice weak and raspy. No answer. I had to get out. I struggled to my feet, but my legs, numb from lying down for so long, gave out from under me. I collapsed onto the floor. I fumbled for my phone and tried to call her. It rang twice, then the call was disconnected. She was hanging up on me. 3 “Quinn! Quinn, can you hear us?” My parents’ anxious voices pulled me back to consciousness. When they saw my eyes open, they both burst into tears of relief. “Thank God the neighbors called 911 in time. Any later, and we would have lost you…” My mother sobbed, stroking my forehead. My father shook his head. “How could you be so careless, son? Leaving a pot on the stove and falling asleep? You could have been killed!” My throat was raw. “Wasn’t Maya home?” I rasped. My parents exchanged a confused look. “The firefighters said you were the only one in the house when they broke down the door. If Maya had been there, this never would have happened. She’s always so careful.” Her words twisted the knife in my heart. Maya was careful. Meticulously so. For eight years, she knew my chronic stomach issues better than I did. She knew exactly what I could and couldn’t eat. The moment I felt sick, she’d have the medicine ready, a pot of hot soup already simmering. It was impossible to believe that a woman so precise, so detail-oriented, would just leave a stove on and walk out of the house. Whatever, or whoever, she had left for had to be incredibly important. Just then, the hospital room door flew open. Maya rushed in, breathless, and ran straight to my bedside. “Quinn! Are you okay?” Without waiting for an answer, she slapped herself hard across the face. “This is all my fault. I can’t believe I put you in such danger…” She had come in such a hurry. She hadn’t noticed the dark, tell-tale love bite on her neck, just peeking out from the collar of her shirt.

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The day after my wedding, my husband, fifteen years my senior, sent me abroad. Three years later, I sneaked onto his private yacht with a gift, only to find him kneeling before a pregnant woman, fastening a diamond-crusted crystal heel on her foot. The surrounding crowd cheered: “Nicholas was too soft getting tangled with that brat. Now with Miss Vance carrying the Hayes heir, things are set right.” “If not for Thea forcing the marriage, banking on their fathers’ friendship, Nora wouldn’t have fallen into depression… or her father died so suddenly.” “Let’s hope Thea lays low. If Nicholas gets angry, more than her father might end up dead.” Someone spotted me. The laughter died. Without looking up, Nicholas traced the woman’s foot: “No manners? Couldn’t even call ahead?” She eyed me curiously. “Who is this, Nick?” He finally glanced over. “Just a family kid. Ignore her.” Later, locked in a lower-deck storage closet as seawater seeped in, I heard Nicholas’s calm voice on the intercom: “All passengers are safe.” Someone asked, “What about Thea?” After a pause, his voice—once full of promises—replied, “She’s probably throwing a tantrum somewhere. She’ll show up when she’s done.” 1 I stood on the deck, the sea breeze whipping my hair across my face, but it couldn’t drown out their venomous words. “Isn’t this my husband’s yacht? Why is my presence such a surprise?” Nicholas appeared beside me, reaching for my hand. “When did you get back? Let me take you to your room.” “Don’t touch me!” The moment his fingers brushed mine, I yanked my hand away. The force of my retreat sent me stumbling backward into a champagne tower. The sound of shattering glass drew every eye. Nora Vance gasped. Instinctively, Nicholas shielded her with his body. He didn’t even glance back to see if I was cut, his full attention on her. “Are you alright? Did it scare you?” Nora shook her head. “I’m fine, Nick. Don’t be angry with Thea. She’s probably just in a bad mood.” “A bad mood gives her the right to cause a scene?” Nicholas’s voice dropped, turning hard. “Thea, don’t make a fool of yourself.” A fool? It felt like my throat was stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t speak. Who was it that held my hand and had me sign our marriage certificate on the day of my father’s funeral? Who was it that pinned me against the wall in the dressing room before our wedding, whispering that he couldn’t wait to make me his bride? But now, in his eyes, I was nothing more than an intruder, ruining his perfect love story. Snickers erupted from the crowd behind me. “See? That temper.” “Nicholas has been more than generous these past few years. Paid for her education, gave her his name. What more could she want?” “I heard her father made him his guardian on his deathbed. The Hayes family had no choice but to take her in.” “Nora’s pregnant! What if the shock caused a problem? Could she even take responsibility for that?” Their words were poisoned daggers, each one piercing my heart. I was escorted away like a criminal, under the watchful eyes of the entire party. I pushed open the door to what was once our stateroom. The air was thick with a foreign perfume, clinging to every surface, announcing a new mistress. Her skincare products lined the vanity. Her silk nightgowns hung in the closet. On the nightstand was a photo of them, his arm wrapped around her waist, his eyes soft with a tenderness that burned. Nicholas followed me in. “You’ll stay here. We’ll be home in three days.” “Where are you going?” I blocked his path. “Nora can’t sleep. I need to be with her.” That single sentence shattered the last of my composure. I laughed, a raw, incredulous sound. “Be with her? What about me? Nicholas, are you really going to lock me in here while you go comfort another woman?” He didn’t answer, just tried to sidestep me. Watching his straight, retreating back, I suddenly didn’t care about anything anymore. Not reason, not dignity, not the tattered remnants of my pride. It all came crashing down. I grabbed the picture frame from the nightstand and hurled it against the wall. Glass exploded everywhere. Nicholas didn’t even flinch. He glanced at his watch. “Are you done?” His voice was terrifyingly calm. “Don’t be a shrew, Thea.” I reached for the table lamp, but he caught my wrist before I could throw it. “Thea, don’t make me hate you more than I already do.” “You already hate me, don’t you?” I twisted out of his grip. “The moment you got her pregnant, you were already done with me!” I swept the bottles and jars from the vanity, sending them crashing to the floor one by one. Nicholas lunged, grabbing my hands. In the struggle, the gift I had spent three months preparing fell and shattered. Inside, nestled among the broken pieces, was a document. My father had given it to his lawyer for safekeeping, to be given to me on my twenty-second birthday. It stated, in no uncertain terms, that his 18% stake in Hayes Corporation had never been legally transferred to Nicholas. It was being held in trust, to be returned to me automatically. I had planned to give it all to him, a birthday present to solidify his control. Now, that seemed like a joke. Nicholas didn’t notice the inconspicuous piece of paper. He pulled a file from the nightstand and tossed it onto the bed. The air went still. The words “Divorce Agreement” gleamed in gold foil. “Let’s end this amicably, Thea.” He held out a pen—the one I had given him last year. “Don’t make this difficult.” 2 I remember the first time I saw Nicholas. I was nineteen. My father had taken me to the Hayes Corporation’s anniversary gala. I stumbled in my heels, and he was the one who caught me. His eyes, behind gold-rimmed glasses, held the warmth of a benevolent elder. “Careful, kiddo.” After that night, I was obsessed. I collected every scrap of information I could find about him. The youngest visiting professor at the business school, the iron-fisted heir to the Hayes empire, thirty-four and still unmarried. I started showing up everywhere he was, even sneaking into his lectures. “Miss Rhodes, that’s enough.” He cornered me in a hallway after a reception, his voice a low warning. Fueled by champagne, I stood on my toes to kiss him. He turned his head, and my lips met his cheek. “Uncle Nick,” I whispered, “you like me too. I know you do.” He slammed me against the wall, his breathing ragged. “Do you have any idea what the consequences are for provoking me?” The worst consequence I could imagine then was my father’s anger. I never dreamed the price would be his life. On my twentieth birthday, I got drunk at his favorite bar. When he dragged me out, his face a thundercloud, I managed to slip a drugged drink past his lips. Everything after that went exactly as I had planned. Until I woke up at dawn to see him by the window, knotting his tie. “Satisfied? Now the whole city will know how the Rhodes heiress climbed into her father’s best friend’s bed.” I just smiled, wrapped in the sheets. “Then you’ll have to take responsibility.” A month later, my father, who had always been the picture of health, had a massive heart attack. At his hospital bedside, Nicholas, who had been cold to me for weeks, held my hand and had me sign our marriage papers. I was so consumed by grief, I didn’t see the flicker of something complex and dark in his eyes. A sudden lurch of the yacht pulled me back to the present. In the mirror, my own swollen eyes stared back, merging with the image of the girl who had cried and screamed in the airport lounge, refusing to board the plane. “Study hard,” he had told me then. “Come back and be my Mrs. Hayes.” It was never a promise. He hated me for disrupting his life, for causing Nora’s depression to relapse, and most of all, for holding the 18% of the company that stood between him and his ultimate ambition. My fingers trembled as they brushed the red marks on my neck where he had grabbed me. He had never been this rough before, not even in our worst fights. After the sound of his footsteps faded, I shakily picked up the divorce agreement. The paper tore in my hands with a crisp, final sound. Then, from a hidden compartment in my suitcase, I pulled out the divorce papers I had prepared. They stipulated that all Rhodes family assets were mine alone, and that half of Nicholas’s personal property would be transferred to me as compensation. He would not get a single thing that wasn’t rightfully his. I signed my name, tucked the papers under his pillow, and sent him a text: The agreement is under your pillow. Make sure you read it. The moment I hit send, my phone buzzed. A friend request. From Nora. “Thea, sweetie, Nick is already asleep. Let’s talk tomorrow. From now on, I’ll take care of you like a little sister.” I stared at the message and started to laugh. My fingers flew across the screen. “A little sister who’s slept with my husband? You have unique tastes, Nora.” The next morning, I was woken by a violent pounding on the door. Nicholas stormed in, his face dark, my text message displayed on his phone. “Are you insane?” He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Nora saw your message. She got so upset she almost had a miscarriage!” I looked into his bloodshot eyes and the absurdity of it all hit me. “So? What do you want? An apology? Should I kneel at her stomach and say I’m sorry for interrupting your affair with my husband?” “Thea!” His fist smashed into the wall next to my head. “Don’t push me.” I tilted my head back, meeting his furious gaze. “What else can you do, Nicholas? Throw me overboard to the sharks?” His expression froze. He loosened his tie, a muscle jumping in his jaw. “Thea, it’s not what you think.” “My feelings for you, and my feelings for Nora… they were never the same.” “Spare me the platitudes!” I screamed, grabbing a water glass and hurling it at the mirror. “You didn’t seem to have a problem with it when you were on top of me, Nicholas. Tell me, how long have you been sneaking around behind my back? When you stood at my father’s funeral and swore you’d take care of me, were you still warm from her bed?” He exploded. He dragged me in front of the shattered mirror. “Look at yourself! Is it any wonder everyone says you can’t compare to her?” “You’re right, I can’t!” I shrieked, my voice breaking. “I don’t know how to play the victim, and I can’t stand by and watch my husband cheat on me and pretend to be gracious! You chose her, Nicholas. You made the right choice.” 3 After Nicholas slammed the door, I collapsed amidst the wreckage. Hair disheveled, eyes swollen, I was the very picture of a madwoman. I heard laughter from the hallway and crawled to the door, pressing my ear against the wood. “So, the proposal was a success?” a slick voice asked. I slid down the door, my legs giving out. So yesterday wasn’t just his birthday. It was his carefully orchestrated proposal to another woman. “Seriously, Nick, why did you ever agree to marry Thea in the first place?” Nicholas’s reply was casual, dismissive. “A young girl throwing herself at me? It would have been rude to say no.” A wave of laughter followed. Someone else added, “What you guys don’t know is that her old man’s 18% was just what Nick needed to leverage that Southside project. Without it, Hayes Corp would have gone under.” “The old bastard died at the perfect time.” “Oh, you have no idea. Rhodes was in good health, had at least another six months. But then he saw those hotel pictures of Nick and his precious daughter. Massive heart attack, right on the spot. Couldn’t be saved.” My world tilted on its axis. A roaring filled my ears. Of course. The memories flooded back. My father, on his deathbed, clutching my hand, his lips moving, trying to tell me something, but only blood came out. And Nicholas, on the other side of the bed, calmly pressing the call button. They were best friends. I stumbled out of the room and retched over the deck railing, but nothing came up. No wonder he had kissed me in the back room of the funeral hall before my father’s coffin was even in the ground. While I was crying myself unconscious, clutching my father’s portrait, he was probably calculating how to get his hands on the rest of the company. I stared into the black, churning sea. All those years of tenderness, the passion in our bed… it was all a performance for a dead man. “Thea, what are you doing out here all alone?” Nora’s voice came from behind me. “Get lost,” I rasped. “Nick told me everything,” she said with a sigh of faux sympathy. “He said it was all a beautiful misunderstanding. You were so young, you didn’t know any better. I understand.” I turned to face her, my eyes locking on the smile playing on her lips. “A misunderstanding? You and he are soulmates, destined to be together?” A cold laugh escaped me. “Then I guess he forgot to tell you how he spent our first year of marriage. He liked it from behind… has he ever done that with you?” “Shut up!” Nora’s mask of composure finally cracked. She raised her hand to slap me. I caught her wrist in a vice grip. “Can’t keep up the act? Save your sweet, innocent routine for Nicholas. It doesn’t work on me.” “You—!” She gasped, her chest heaving. Then, her eyes darted to the side, and she threw herself backward with a theatrical scream. Before I could even process what was happening, a powerful force shoved me aside. Nicholas was there, his eyes burning with disgust. “Thea, are you looking to die?” “Yes. I am.” I stumbled, catching the railing. A wild, broken laugh bubbled up from my chest. “Go on, push me in. Feed me to the sharks. Get me out of your sight.” “I’m not going to kill you. But if you want to live the rest of your life in peace, you will sign those papers!” In that moment, I knew I couldn’t give him what he wanted. “And if I don’t?” I taunted. “As long as I refuse to sign, that thing in Nora’s belly will always be a bastard. She’ll always be the mistress, hiding in the shadows. You want to give her a name, Nicholas? I won’t let you.” He laughed. A cold, chilling sound. He snapped his fingers. Several large men appeared, dragging three people with them. My best friend, Maya. Mr. Chen, our old groundskeeper who had watched me grow up. And Mr. Zhang, my father’s lawyer and closest confidant. They were bound and gagged, their eyes wide with terror. “Recognize them?” Nicholas strolled to the railing. “I hear there’s a school of tiger sharks in these waters. They haven’t eaten in a while.” “What are you doing?” The screech of a winch grated on my nerves. Maya was pushed over the side of the yacht, a rope slowly lowering her toward the dark water. She shook her head violently, tears streaming down her face. “Will you sign?” Nicholas lit a cigarette. “Mr. Chen is next.” The water below Maya began to churn. Dark fins sliced through the surface. She let out a muffled scream, trying to pull her legs up. “I’ll sign!” I lunged for the pen. “Let her go!” As the tip of the pen touched the paper, I caught Mr. Zhang’s eye. He was shaking his head frantically, his swollen lips mouthing the words, “Don’t sign.” The pen hovered. Nicholas’s eyes narrowed. “Not enough motivation, I see.” He gestured to his men. “Lower her another ten feet.” “No!” I screamed, but it was too late. The rope unspooled, and Maya plunged into the sea. In the splash, I saw a shark lunging for her. “Pull her up!” Nicholas barked. The men scrambled to winch her back. When they hauled her onto the deck, her pant leg was shredded, a gruesome gash bleeding freely down her calf. Her eyes had rolled back in her head. She was unconscious. I knew that if I signed, I would lose everything. My father’s legacy, my own life, any chance of revenge. But if I didn’t, the man who had bounced me on his knee as a child would be next. “Last chance, Thea.” 4 “I’ll give you three hours to think about it,” Nicholas said, his thumb brushing a speck of blood from the corner of my lip. “Don’t disappoint me, Thea.” I stared at the pool of Maya’s blood on the deck. “Nicholas,” I whispered, “did you kill my father?” His hand, adjusting his cufflink, paused for a fraction of a second. His eyes were unreadable. “I’ve never been a good man.” “You monster!” Mr. Chen, suddenly free, lunged at him, his white hair flying in the wind. “My boss treated you like a brother! When your company was about to go bankrupt, who mortgaged his own home to save you? When your board tried to oust you, who rallied his own men to back you up? Is this how you repay him?” Nicholas’s eyes hardened. The guards immediately restrained Mr. Chen. He took off his glasses, polishing them with a handkerchief. “Your Mr. Chen is getting old. Talking so much is bad for his health.” He nodded to the guards. “Help him find some peace and quiet.” Before I could even scream, Mr. Chen’s struggles ended in a choked, gurgling sound. The sickening crunch of a needle piercing flesh made my entire body tremble. They were sewing his mouth shut with a coarse thread. I tried to run to him, but the guards held me back. Bile and tears spilled from me, splashing onto the deck. “Can’t handle this?” Nicholas forced my chin up. “Think about the blood your father coughed up before he died. It was much more than this.” “You will pay for this, Nicholas. You will get what you deserve.” “Do I look like a man who fears retribution?” The sound of heels clicked on the deck. Nora appeared, holding a velvet box. “Nick, darling, the designer just delivered the engagement rings.” The box opened, and the light from a massive pink diamond blinded me. A priceless, rare gem, set in platinum, a hundred times more extravagant than the modest ring I wore. “Nora, go back to the room,” Nicholas said, his voice unusually gentle. “But…” She glanced at me nervously. “I’m worried Miss Rhodes will be upset at the engagement party.” “Upset?” Nicholas sneered. “Don’t worry. Tomorrow, she’ll be in the bilge.” He waved a hand at the guards. “Take her below.” I spent the night huddled in a damp, dark storage closet. The next morning, I could hear the sounds of a waltz and the laughter of guests from the deck above. At midnight, the ship shuddered violently. An alarm blared through the ship. “All passengers proceed to the lifeboats immediately! I repeat, this is not a drill!” I heard the frantic stampede of feet overhead. I pounded on the steel door, screaming, but no one answered. “Let me out! Is anyone there? Open the door!” Salty seawater seeped under the door, quickly rising past my ankles. A short while later, Nicholas’s voice came over the intercom, chillingly calm. “All passengers have been safely evacuated.” “What about Miss Rhodes?” someone asked. After a beat of silence, I heard the voice that had once been my world. “Thea? She’s probably hiding somewhere, throwing a tantrum. Don’t worry about her.” In my last moments of consciousness, I was nineteen again, at the gala. Nicholas was catching me as I stumbled. If I could do it all over again, I would tell him: Nicholas, I never wanted to be your kiddo. I wish I had never met you.

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1 The young assistant my husband doted on was behind the wheel for the first time. She mowed down my daughter. The wheels crushed Lily’s tiny legs. I screamed, a raw, useless sound against the blood gushing from the holes in her flesh. When Stephen arrived, the driver, Kate, dissolved into a storm of tears and buried herself in his arms. “Stephen, your daughter just ran into the road! She was trying to scam us! This disgusting mother-daughter pair, they must be trying to break us up!” Stephen’s arms tightened around her, a fortress. “I’ve already signed a waiver. No one will touch you.” He murmured, his voice impossibly gentle. “My poor princess, you must be terrified. I’ll take you to Disneyland to clear your head.” And as I knelt on the pavement, begging the paramedics to save my child, my husband was on one knee under the Disneyland fireworks, placing a princess tiara on his assistant’s head. Later, when my daughter was nothing but a handful of ash, he finally remembered he was a father, and he wept, begging her to come back… … Outside the emergency room, I paced, each step a lifetime of anxiety. Suddenly, a courier with a small package found me. “Are you Mrs. Pierce? This is from your husband.” I looked down as a text from Stephen lit up my screen. “Lily needs to be more careful. Running into the street like that… she almost got Kate killed.” “A band-aid should be enough for that scrape. I have to fly out for an international deal. You keep an eye on her.” He added one last line. “Once she’s better, I’ll take you both to Disneyland.” Just then, Kate’s social media feed updated. Under the explosion of fireworks above the Disney castle, she and Stephen were posing for a selfie, matching Mickey Mouse ears perched on their heads. The caption read, “A dream come true at Disney! Thank you to the most handsome CEO in the world!” The man who was always so cold and severe had shed his armor, posing for a nine-photo spread of cloying, intimate selfies with her. His usually indifferent eyes were burning with a heat, a devotion, I hadn’t seen in years. Hours later, the light above the ER door finally went out. I stumbled forward, my legs giving way. The doctor just pulled off his mask and shook his head. “I’m so sorry. We did everything we could.” A nurse next to him whispered, “That poor little girl… it breaks your heart.” They told me that in her last moments, during a final, fleeting burst of consciousness, she had been murmuring one thing over and over. “Daddy… Lily’s not a bad girl… please don’t leave me and Mommy.” So she knew. My daughter understood all along. She had seen the way Stephen’s voice turned impossibly soft whenever he spoke to Kate, a tone reserved only for her. For us, all that was left was impatient dismissal. She knew that when his phone rang with that special ringtone, he would drop everything and walk out the door, leaving us behind. We had lost his favor, his light. In a flash, the memories I tried so hard to suppress flooded back. Lily, crumpled on the asphalt, whimpering in agony as her life bled out onto the pavement. Stephen, arriving at the scene, his first instinct not to rush to his daughter, but to cradle a terrified Kate in his arms. “Don’t be afraid, Kate. When the police get here, I’ll sign the waiver. I’ll protect you.” Kate was the one who had done this, an unforgivable crime, yet my husband stood ready to be her shield, her champion. My daughter’s eyes were fixed on them, on Stephen holding Kate. The light in those bright, innocent eyes dimmed, flicker by flicker, until only a deep, bottomless despair remained. Now, clutching my daughter’s cold, still body, I knelt before the mortician, my voice a shattered whisper. “Please… please, cover the wounds. Let her go in peace… let her be whole.” On the cold steel table, Lily lay with her eyes closed, looking so peaceful, as if she’d never known a moment of pain. As if, at any second, she would rub her eyes and call out, “Mommy.” The mortician gently straightened the hem of her little dress. “Ma’am,” he said softly, “it’s time for her to go.” The pain in my chest was so immense I couldn’t breathe. I wanted nothing more than to follow her. At that exact moment, Kate posted a new video. “So this is what a suite that costs tens of thousands a night at Disney looks like! Thanks to my CEO for the eye-opening experience!” She gave a sly wink to the camera. “And a little secret for you all… the Ice King might act tough, but his lips are surprisingly soft when you kiss them.” Before the words had even faded, a hand with long, elegant fingers pushed her playfully onto the bed. A man’s deep voice, laced with dangerous charm, rumbled through the speaker. That night, they embraced in the most magical suite in the Magic Kingdom. My daughter was pushed into an incinerator. Her small body, turned to ash, inch by inch. My heart felt as though it had been carved out of my chest. Eight years ago, Stephen and I were struggling to get our company off the ground, crammed into a tiny, rundown apartment. Maybe Lily was our lucky star. The moment she was born, our fortunes turned. Contracts started pouring in like an avalanche. Once we had money, Stephen wanted to give her the world. He was so determined to make her his one and only princess that he underwent a vasectomy, a risky procedure back then. I remember him after the surgery, pale but resolute, holding our baby girl. “Lily,” he’d whispered, “Daddy promises. You will be my only child, forever.” And over the years, how many times had he promised to take her to Disneyland? In the end, he fulfilled that princess dream for another woman, placing a crown on her head before a fairy-tale castle. I buried my face in my hands, hot tears streaming through my fingers. Lily, my sweet girl, Mommy was wrong. I was so, so wrong. I forgot the oldest rule in the book. A man with money is a man with a wandering eye. I sat slumped in a chair at the crematorium, sending text after text to Stephen. [KATE KILLED OUR DAUGHTER. HOW COULD YOU SLEEP WITH HER?!] [Stephen, I will never, ever forgive you!] The screen remained dark. My storm of emotions quieted into a dead, hollow calm. I sent one last message. [Lily is gone… Come say your last goodbye.] A moment later, the phone lit up. Stephen’s reply was a shard of ice in my heart. [Are you insane? Cursing our own daughter just for attention? You disgust me.] I stared at the screen, biting my lower lip so hard I tasted blood. The man who once crawled on his knees up the stone steps of a monastery, praying for a charm to keep our daughter safe—that man was gone forever. If only, Stephen. If only I had never met you… At dawn, I went home to pack up Lily’s things. I sifted through old photos, each smiling face a dull knife twisting in my gut. Suddenly, I heard footsteps and laughter from downstairs. It was Stephen’s voice, crisp and cold, but laced with an unmistakable, uncontainable joy. “Kate, I can’t believe it… you’re pregnant!” His voice trembled. “After my surgery… to have another child… this is a miracle. A gift from heaven.” I heard him gently help her to the couch. “A little prince or a little princess, I don’t care, I’ll love them just the same. I’m going to the study to get the bank books. Don’t you worry. I’ll give you and our baby the best life imaginable.” That was our money. Money that was meant for me and Lily. How dare he use it to raise the child of the homewrecker who destroyed my family? The child of my daughter’s killer! A wave of pure rage propelled me through the door. I saw Kate lounging on the sofa, legs crossed, as if she were the queen of this house. When she saw me, a smug smirk played on her red lips. Her eyes glinted with triumph. She trailed a finger lightly over her flat stomach. “Oh, Lia. I’m so, so sorry,” she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sympathy. “I guess I’m just young, you know? My body is just… better. Even after Stephen’s little procedure, he hits the jackpot on the first try with me…” Her words were a bomb that detonated inside my skull, shattering what was left of my sanity. I lunged, throwing myself at her without a second thought. I was a mother beast, cornered and broken, my grief erupting in a primal scream. “You monster! Give me back my daughter! You took my life!” In the ensuing struggle, her sharp nails raked across my face, leaving bloody trails. She slapped me, hard and fast, like a sudden downpour. I hadn’t eaten in over a day, and even with all my strength, all I could manage was to tear out a few strands of her hair. Kate threw her head back and shrieked. “Stephen, help me! Save me and the baby!” Her voice was a theatrical wail. “This bitch is trying to make me bald!” Stephen rushed in at the sound of the commotion. Without hesitation, he grabbed a pair of scissors from the desk. The sight of them in his hand sent a sliver of ice through my veins. What… what was he going to do? The man who once promised to be my shield from the world now stood before me, his face a thundercloud. “I leave for two seconds, and you dare to hurt Kate? What will you do when she moves in? Try to kill her?” The cold glint of the steel flashed before my eyes. I stared, paralyzed by fear, tears streaming down my face. I summoned every ounce of strength I had left. “No, Stephen, you can’t… you can’t do this to me…” A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it came. He sneered, his other hand grabbing a fistful of my long hair. “Who do you think you are, Lia? You think our ten years together gives you a free pass to treat Kate however you want?” As he spoke, bodyguards materialized, pinning my arms. He brought the scissors to my hair and began to hack away, each rough cut a severing of a memory. In my despair, a ghost of a gentler time surfaced… back when Stephen wasn’t the untouchable CEO of Pierce Corp. To save money, he’d learned to cut hair himself, and he’d washed mine countless times, his fingers always so gentle. Today, for his assistant, he was shearing away the hair I cherished, and with it, every last shred of the love between us. When he was finished, the reflection in the shattered mirror showed a grotesque stranger with a butchered, patchy scalp. I screamed, a sound of pure agony, and lunged forward, smashing what was left of the mirror. His voice cut through my sobs, cold and hard as stone. He knelt before Kate, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles as if she were royalty. “For every ounce of grief she causes you, I will make her repay it a hundredfold. Now, is my princess satisfied?” Kate wrapped her arms around his neck, nodding shyly. She glanced at me, and her lips curled into the triumphant smile of a victor. “Look at you,” she sneered. “A plucked chicken. You really think you can compete with me for him now? He stopped loving you years ago. This desperation is just pathetic.” A hollow, empty smile stretched across my own lips. “Stephen,” I said, my voice eerfed by flat. “Let’s get a divorce.” “The life I wanted—one man, one woman, for a lifetime—you can’t give me that anymore.” He answered with a dismissive scoff. “You’re a housewife, Lia. You wouldn’t survive a day without me. A divorce? Fine. But Lily stays. She’s a Pierce. You’re not taking her anywhere.” With that, he swept Kate into his arms and carried her up the stairs. Soon, the sound of her delighted giggles drifted down from the master bedroom. I knelt on the floor, surrounded by the shorn locks of my hair, and finally let myself break completely. You’re wrong, Stephen. You can never take her with you. I found a hat, wiped my tears, and drove to the crematorium. After signing the release form for the ashes, I looked at the attendant, my voice trembling. “Could you… could you please put them in this urn for me?” My voice was steady, but my body swayed, and I nearly collapsed. It was a ceramic urn we had made together, as a family. I remember that day. Stephen had rushed through his part, his movements bored and dismissive. Then his phone rang, and he left without a backward glance. Lily had watched him go, her little mouth pressed into a tight, thin line. My heart ached. I knew that look. It was the face she made when she was disappointed beyond words. And now, she would sleep forever inside that very urn, the one her father couldn’t be bothered to look at twice. Before heading to the airport, I did one last thing. I sent a video file to an encrypted email address. Just as the plane was about to take off, a flight attendant approached me, her expression apologetic. “Mrs. Pierce? I’m sorry, but a suspicious item was detected in your luggage. We’ll need you to come with us for an additional security check.” My face remained calm, but my heart hammered against my ribs. When I stepped off the plane, I saw him. Stephen, with his arm wrapped tightly around Kate. His features were sharp and unforgiving in the cold wind. “Lia. Who gave you permission to leave Havenport?” His gaze dropped to the object in my arms. “And where is Lily? Why isn’t she with you?” I didn’t answer. I just turned and ran, a primal instinct to flee. Suddenly, bodyguards swarmed from all directions, their hands clamping down on my arms like iron vises. Stephen frowned, his eyes fixed on the urn I clutched to my chest. “Why are you carrying that ugly pot around on a plane?” Kate sashayed over, a smug look on her face, and snatched the urn from my hands with ease. I looked up at her, my voice raw and cracking, begging. “No! Please, don’t touch her! My daughter is in there!” She popped the lid off, dipped her fingers inside, and brought a pinch of the powder to her lips. “Kate, no! You already killed her! Let her rest in peace!” Amid my frantic screams, she licked her fingertips, a slight smirk on her face. Then, her expression soured. She gagged dramatically and, with a flick of her wrist, overturned the urn, dumping its entire contents onto the cold, unforgiving concrete. “Ugh, disgusting! It’s just flour! Lia, you really are a drama queen. You almost had us going there.” Hearing this, the tension drained from Stephen’s body. The dark storm in his eyes subsided. He lifted his expensive leather shoe and ground the powder on the ground into dust. “Lia, we’ll settle this little stunt later. I’ve already been to the hospital. Lily isn’t there. Where did you hide her?!” The blood drained from my face. I forced the words from my throat. “I’m not lying. Lily… is dead.” Stephen’s eyes turned to ice. “I’ll find out where she is myself. And since you refuse to tell the truth, perhaps you should never speak again.” He gave a sharp, brutal flick of his hand. “Take her. Sew her mouth shut.” The bodyguards approached me, vile grins spreading across their faces, as if they had been waiting for this moment their whole lives. “So sorry about this, Ma’am…” the leader sneered, his yellowed teeth flashing as he grabbed me. “Remember that time you cut your finger slicing fruit? The boss docked my pay for a whole year for that. Today, I finally get to collect on that debt.” The tip of the needle pierced my lip. Pain, sharp and blinding, shot through me, and my body convulsed in a silent, tear-soaked scream. Another guard leaned in close, his breath hot and foul in my ear. “Remember me, Ma’am? You wandered off while shopping, outside the protection detail. The boss gave me a hundred lashes for that…” The needle weaved in and out of my flesh, each pull of the thread an agony that tore through me. Through a blur of tears, I saw Stephen standing a few feet away, arms crossed, watching me with cold detachment. All the love, all the tender protection he had once showered upon me, had now been twisted into weapons used to destroy me, body and soul. Just as they were about to pull the final stitch tight, Stephen’s sharp eyes caught something. A glint of white in the gray dust on the ground. He bent down slowly, his movements stiff, and picked it up. It was… it was a tiny tooth, not quite consumed by the fire. He lunged at me, his hands closing around my throat, his voice a raw, desperate roar. “Lia, what is this powder on the ground?!” The man who always had the world in the palm of his hand was finally, terrifyingly, losing control. “Tell me! That’s not Lily’s ashes, is it? IS IT?!”

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Five years. That’s how long I’d been taking care of my paralyzed boyfriend, Perry. And finally, his legs were showing signs of life. Just as we were planning our wedding, Cara—the woman who put him in that wheelchair—walked back into his life, a child in tow. He kept postponing the wedding, making excuses about needing to help her and her son. I found him with his friend, clutching the latest draft from our wedding planner, ready to ask him for a final date. But I stopped short when I heard his friend, Cole, speaking in a low voice. “If she finds out you’ve legally become Andy’s father, Chloe might actually leave you for good,” Cole warned. “You need to tell her, and soon.” Perry, the man who was supposedly paralyzed, was standing by the window, looking out at the city lights. He just shrugged. “She stuck by me all those years in a wheelchair. You think she’d leave me over a few postponed weddings?” he scoffed. “My own father walked out on my mom and me. I’m just trying to give my son the love I never had. What’s so wrong with that?” My fingers went numb. I slowly twisted the ring on my finger, the one that had never quite fit. Perry, I thought, a cold certainty settling in my chest. This time, I’m the one who’s walking out. 1 The wedding was pushed back so many times that even the event company started calling. “Ms. Davis, have you and your fiancé confirmed a new date?” the planner asked, her voice laced with professional patience. I traced the indentation the too-tight ring had left on my skin. “No,” I managed to say, my throat tight. “You can keep the deposit. We’re canceling.” There was a stunned silence on the other end. “Oh. Of… of course.” From March to October, Perry had used his paralysis as the perfect excuse. The date on the invitations had been scratched out and rewritten so many times they were a mess. I wasn’t waiting anymore. Just then, my phone buzzed with a wall of text from him. The block of words made my eyes ache. I automatically scrolled to the end, my fingers moving with practiced exhaustion. “Chloe, let’s push the wedding back another two months. I really want to be standing on my own two feet when I marry you.” He’d always said he didn’t want me to suffer the whispers and pitying looks, the shame of having a husband in a wheelchair. Like a fool, I’d believed he was protecting me. I’d spent days glowing with pride at his consideration. But the truth was, the endless delays had already made me a laughingstock. I used to reply to him in seconds. This time, I just closed the message. I couldn’t bring myself to type “Okay” one more time. In this relationship, the moment I stopped pushing, everything would grind to a halt. For once, he called immediately. “Chloe? Is something wrong? You’re not answering my texts.” Was he worried about me, or just annoyed that I hadn’t instantly agreed to his demand? I dug my nails into my palm, forcing a calm I didn’t feel. “I’m fine, Perry. Nothing’s wrong…” He cut me off. “Let’s talk about the wedding later. I’m not coming home tonight. There’s a problem with the Crestview project, I have to go check it out.” He didn’t even wait for my response, just assumed my compliance. “I’ll bring you back your favorite perfume, okay?” I stood frozen in the hallway for a long time after he hung up. Cole came out of Perry’s office and nearly ran into me. His eyes widened. “You… you heard all that?” I nodded, my body feeling hollow. I shoved the wedding planner’s portfolio into the office shredder, the machine whirring to life and devouring our future. I turned back to Cole and put a finger to my lips. “Don’t tell him I was here,” I whispered. “Please. For old times’ sake.” That night, Perry, the man who was supposedly out of town on business, came home for dinner. His eyes fell on the simple omelet on the table. “This again? Can’t we have something else? I’m getting tired of it.” For years, whenever he came home drunk from a networking dinner, I’d make him an omelet. It helped with the hangovers. Every single time, he would smile and pull me close. “Chloe, you’re the only one who takes such good care of me.” Now, he was tired of it. I didn’t know if he meant the omelet, or the woman who’d made it for him every day for five years. Sensing my unusual silence, he tried to soften his tone. “Hey, I doubled my physical therapy session today,” he said, reaching for my hand. “I’m going to stand at our wedding, Chloe. I promise. It will be perfect.” He couldn’t even look me in the eye when he lied. I wanted to scream. Is it fun? Does it feel good to play me for a fool? But before I could say a word, a frantic knocking echoed through the apartment. “Perry! Perry, please!” It was Cara. “Perry, the landlord kicked us out! We have nowhere else to go! Can we just stay for a few days? Please?” Perry’s voice was ice as he told her to get lost, but he was already wheeling himself toward the door, faster than I’d seen him move in months. “Have you no shame?” he snarled, the calm man I knew disappearing into a storm of rage. “You think this is some kind of shelter for your mistakes? Cara, you make me sick!” He spat every venomous word he could think of. But then the door swung open, and he saw the child, Andy, shivering and soaked to the bone. The fury in his eyes flickered, replaced by a flicker of pity. His gaze darted to me. Perry was smart. He was trying to make this my decision. But I knew that if they set foot in this apartment, they would never leave. “I’m not okay with this,” I said, each word sharp and clear. Perry looked completely thrown, as if he never imagined I would say no. The little boy, Andy, suddenly clung to his leg. “Please, mister? Can we stay? Please?” Perry’s hand instinctively went to Andy’s forehead. It was burning hot. In an instant, he scooped the boy onto his lap. “Get the doctor on the phone!” he roared. He turned his anger on Cara. “What kind of mother are you? He has a fever and you let him get soaked in the rain?” But underneath the anger, his voice trembled with worry. “I didn’t know,” Cara sobbed, scrambling after him. In the chaos, I was completely forgotten, an invisible spectator in my own home. It turned out to be just a minor cold. When Perry finally noticed my red-rimmed eyes, he took my hand, his grip tight. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “I’ll find them a place as soon as I can. They’ll be gone in a few days, I promise.” But I knew he had already made his choice. I went to the bathroom to splash some water on my face. When I came back, Cara was sitting in my chair at the dinner table. Perry was patiently spoon-feeding Andy, his face lit with a tenderness I had never seen before. It was as if his earlier rage had been a performance. Cara shot me a triumphant, mocking smile before placing a piece of okra in Perry’s bowl. It was the one vegetable he absolutely hated. For five years, I’d begged him to just try it. “Can’t you make an exception, just for me?” I’d ask. He’d always refused. “I don’t like it, Chloe. Period.” But what he did next was a silent, deliberate humiliation. He ate it without a flicker of expression. Then he turned to me. “Chloe, make sure you clean the wheelchair tonight,” he said, his tone flat. “And disinfect my training equipment in the study.” He sounded like he was giving orders to the hired help. And in that moment, something inside me finally broke. A strange sense of release washed over me. Five years. It felt like a lifetime, but my real life was just beginning. 2 As I dragged my suitcase out from the back of the closet, my phone lit up with a series of videos from an unknown number. They were all recordings of Perry, in the dead of night, rocking a small child to sleep. Andy. My hands trembled as I opened the security app for our apartment. The footage was all there. Every night, for months, he’d bring me a glass of milk laced with sleeping pills, wait for me to pass out, and then leave. His legs were perfectly fine. He could walk. He had been able to walk for a long time. A crushing weight settled on my chest, making it hard to breathe. Tonight was no different. Perry handed me the glass of milk, kissing my cheek just like he always did. “Drink up and get some sleep.” The milk with the hidden dose. My hand shook as I took the glass, but I drank every last drop in front of him. “I thought you had to go out of town,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady. “I passed it to Cole. It’s been too long since I spent a night with you.” The words were so sincere, but I knew better now. “Andy is just a little kid,” he continued, watching me closely. “You should be gentler with him. It would help you two get closer. You’re always saying how much you love kids. Well, here’s one right here for you.” He paused, his tone shifting. “I think you were a bit cold today. You scared him.” The accusation was unmistakable. He’d forgotten. The reason I always stared so longingly at other people’s children was because I had lost one of our own for him. But I was too tired to dredge up the past, too exhausted to scream and fight. I faked a yawn and gently pushed him toward the door. “I’m tired. You should get back to your work.” He lingered in the doorway for a moment, as if he was waiting for me to beg for a goodnight kiss, to wrap myself around him like I used to, clinging to him, asking again and again if he wanted to sleep beside me. He didn’t even notice that I’d skipped his nightly physical therapy routine. Perry just assumed the sleeping pills had kicked in. The second the door clicked shut, I scrambled to the bathroom, forcing my fingers down my throat until the milky bitterness came back up. A wave of nausea washed over me, a familiar feeling lately. My period was always irregular, but it had been a while. My hand trembled as I reached for the pregnancy test I’d stashed under the sink. Two pink lines. I had moved in with Perry five years ago to take care of him after the accident. Back then, I was so naive, so certain this would one day be our home, our family. I opened the closet. My clothes took up a tiny section. As I pulled my things out, one of Perry’s jackets fell to the floor. A ticket stub fluttered out from the pocket. A souvenir from Disneyland. The date was August 11th. My birthday. I had begged him for weeks to be home, just for that one night. He’d called late, saying he was swamped with work and couldn’t get away. While I waited for him, my birthday cake melted on the counter. He wasn’t working. He was at the happiest place on earth with Cara and her son. Out of all the hours in my birthday, he had only thought of me for the five minutes it took to make that phone call. Just then, I heard a child’s voice from down the hall, followed by Perry’s soft singing. “Daddy, can you sing me to sleep like this every night?” Andy asked. There was a pause. Then, Perry’s voice, full of a warmth he never gave me anymore. “Of course. Daddy will always be here for you.” He added, his voice dropping slightly, “But remember, when Aunt Chloe is around, you have to call me Uncle.” In the hallway, I heard Cara’s cheerful whisper. “Wasn’t my performance brilliant tonight? You owe me a reward for that, Perry.” “Cara, this is the last time I’m letting you get away with this! In two days, you’re…” He thought I was asleep. He didn’t even bother to lower his voice. The lie was a performance. And I was the audience. A dull, drilling pain started in my chest, a helpless agony that came with being so thoroughly deceived. The tears I’d been holding back finally broke free, and I pressed my hand to my mouth to stifle the sobs, my body shaking in the silent darkness. … My friend was supposed to pick me up at ten. In the few minutes I was in the bathroom, Andy had overturned my entire suitcase, stomping on my carefully packed clothes with his dirty shoes. He made a face at me. “You’re the bad woman who stole my daddy,” he sneered. “Get out of my house!” Over the years, plenty of people had shown up claiming Perry was the father of their child, all looking for money. The paternity test wasn’t even back yet. “He might not even be Perry’s son…” I started to say. Cara rushed in, clapping her hands over Andy’s ears dramatically. “Chloe, please, I’m begging you, don’t say things like that in front of him,” she cried, her voice trembling. “Andy’s been called a bastard his whole life. If you can’t accept him being here, I’ll take him and leave right now.” The word “bastard” seemed to pierce right through Perry’s heart. He wheeled himself forward, positioning himself between me and them like a shield. His face was a cold mask. “That’s enough. Why would you say something so cruel to a child?” he demanded. “Chloe, if you have a problem, take it up with me. Don’t take it out on a little boy.” His voice dripped with disdain. “I bought you those clothes. So what if he stepped on them?” In that moment, they looked like a family, united against an intruder. I felt like a complete and utter fool. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Fine, Perry. Think whatever you want.” “It doesn’t matter anymore. We’re over.” 3 Perry’s brow furrowed in irritation. “Why do you always have to blow things out of proportion?” Just like that, I was the one being unreasonable, the one at fault. He sighed, a calculated show of patience. “Look, I overreacted. I’ll have Andy apologize to you.” Andy, who had been so defiant just moments before, instantly transformed. He burst into tears and mumbled an apology. “I’m sorry, Auntie. I was wrong.” But I was done compromising. With a final tug, I wrenched the bracelet from my wrist. It was a family heirloom his mother had given me the day I agreed to be his girlfriend. “Take it back,” I said, my voice flat. “He already said he was sorry! What more do you want?” Perry stared at me, his eyes filled with genuine confusion, as if he truly couldn’t comprehend what I was so upset about. “We’re about to get married, and you’re going to throw a tantrum and break up with me now?” “What if I asked you to send them away, right now? Can you do that, Perry?” I looked straight at him. Maybe it was the hormones, but I needed to hear his answer. One last time. If he said no, I would walk out that door and never look back. “This is my house. Who are you to tell me who can and can’t be here?” he sneered. “What’s next? Are you going to threaten me with the five years you spent taking care of me?” His voice turned venomous. “Did I beg you to do it? I don’t understand what you’re so broken up about. Chloe, you’re the one who cried and pleaded with your father to let you be with me. You were the one who chose to be this pathetic!” I flinched as if he’d struck me. Yesterday’s kisses and today’s insults, all from the same mouth. The acid of his words burned in my chest, sharp as broken glass. For a fleeting moment, I remembered how he used to look at me, his eyes full of adoration, how he’d sworn he would love me for the rest of his life. I remembered the long nights, helping him to the bathroom, and how he’d gently wipe the sweat from my brow, whispering “I’m sorry” over and over again. “I’ll get back on my feet, Chloe,” he’d promised. “I will stand up and marry you.” Well, he could stand now. And the first thing he did with his recovery was weave a web of intricate lies to hide it from me. I wiped the tears from my face and forced a smile. “You’re right. I brought this on myself.” “I was a fool to waste five years of my life.” Even through the hardest days of his recovery, the endless physical therapy, the crushing financial strain, I never once cried or complained. Perry looked stunned, as if the reality of what he’d said was only just hitting him. Before he could respond, Andy started scratching frantically at his arms. “Daddy, it’s so itchy!” he cried, pointing at me with a trembling finger. “Auntie made me eat peanut brittle. I told her I didn’t want it, and she said she would hit me if I didn’t!” He threw himself into Perry’s arms. “Daddy, I’m so scared.” Cara lunged at me, shoving me hard. “If you have a problem with us, why don’t you just say it? Why do you have to resort to these disgusting little tricks? I told you last night that he’s allergic to peanuts!” Her voice rose to a hysterical shriek. “He’s just a child! How could you be so cruel?” My lower back slammed into the armrest of a chair. Pain exploded through me, and my legs gave out. I collapsed to the floor. “I didn’t,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I didn’t even know he had an allergy…” But Perry’s next action destroyed any lingering hope I had left. He slapped me, hard, across the face. “Andy is four years old! Why would he lie?” he roared. “If you didn’t want him here, you should have just told me! You didn’t have to attack a child!” Within seconds, angry red welts were breaking out all over Andy’s skin, and he began to struggle for breath. I looked up at Perry, my cheek stinging. “How can you trust her? The woman who put you in a wheelchair for five years?” His gaze was like ice, shattering the last of my pride. “That’s between her and me. When did it become your place to judge?” I thought five years of unwavering devotion would mean something. I thought it would earn me his trust, his heart. I was wrong. I was never anything more than a convenience. And I was so, so glad I had decided to leave. In his panic, Perry shot up from the wheelchair, scooping the boy into his arms and running for the door. He wasn’t even pretending to be paralyzed anymore. Cara scrambled after them, sobbing. “Perry, he’s going to be okay, right?” Even in his frantic state, he paused to reassure her. “He’ll be fine. I’ll get the best doctors in the city!” I remembered falling in the shower just two days ago. The pain in my spine had been so intense I’d burst into tears. Perry had stood in the doorway, his eyes filled with conflict, before finally yelling for the housekeeper to help me up. Even with me hurt on the floor, he wouldn’t break his cover. But a simple allergic reaction from Andy was enough to throw his entire world into chaos. I tried to push myself up, using the staircase for support, but my arms had no strength. I slumped back to the floor. That’s when I saw it. A crimson stain was spreading on the pale floorboards, a slow, dark river flowing from between my legs. My hand was steady as I pulled out my phone. “Dr. Evans,” I said, my voice empty of all emotion. “I need you to schedule me for a D&C.”

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The woman my husband always loved and I were both poisoned by kidnappers. He held the only antidote. He chose her. I was the one who spent a year in a coma. When I finally woke up, his first words to me weren’t I’m so glad you’re back, or I missed you. They were, “We need a divorce. Claire’s pregnant.” I looked at this stranger, this cruel man I supposedly married, and asked the only question that came to my mind. “I’m sorry, who are you?” 1 The fact that I woke up at all was, according to the doctors, a miracle. They used that exact word: “a medical miracle.” A parade of specialists, titans in their fields, cycled through my room, running tests, peering into my eyes, and murmuring in disbelief as they confirmed my vital functions were returning. According to their charts, I should have been a ghost in a machine for the rest of my life. A permanent resident of that silent, twilight country between living and dying. In the two months of grueling physical therapy that followed, my parents visited me exactly once. There was no joy on their faces, no tearful relief. Instead, they cornered a doctor in the hallway and asked, with hushed urgency, if I could still get pregnant. When the doctor confirmed that I could, their expressions curdled into something ugly and disappointed. They never came back after that. I thought I should feel the cold sting of heartbreak, but there was nothing. A person who has already lost all hope has no room for such luxuries. My brother, Leo, came to pick me up on the day of my discharge. “Claire’s been having a rough time,” he started, his eyes fixed on the road. “Her heart’s been acting up, you know, the stress of it all. So, don’t be mad at Mom and Dad for not visiting more. You know how fragile she’s always been…” He trailed off, noticing the blankness of my expression. He mistook my apathy for a silent protest, and his voice hardened with impatience. “For God’s sake, Ava, can you just for once not be jealous of your own sister?” His volume spiked, and I flinched, genuinely confused. “What? Sorry, I was watching that dog. Look at it, crying its eyes out. It’s ridiculous.” On the sidewalk, a husky the size of a small person was howling, a crowd of laughing onlookers gathered around it. I couldn’t have cared less about what Leo was saying. He realized he’d misread the situation but offered no apology. He just plowed ahead. “Claire’s health isn’t great. She’s been under a lot of stress this past year. So when you get home, just… try not to start anything with her.” “Okay.” I cut him off before he could finish. The condescending tone in his voice was like sandpaper on my nerves, and I just wanted him to shut up. His brow furrowed again. “What are you planning now?” I met his gaze in the rearview mirror. “Why would you ask me that?” He opened his mouth, then closed it, lost for words. “You know what? Maybe don’t come home just yet,” he finally said, sighing. “Claire moved back in for a bit. The Prescotts’ house has plenty of space, you should go there. You and Carter need to talk. If it’s really over between you two, just end it properly.” I just stared, a complete blank. Just then, a sharp rap on the window made me jump. It was Carter Prescott. A man I’d known practically my whole life. Leo got out of the car. I saw their mouths moving, a brief, tense exchange. Then Leo opened my door. “Good, Carter’s here for you,” he said, all false brightness. “You should go with him. Whatever is going on between you two, you need to sort it out yourselves.” Carter, however, looked like he had zero patience for a long conversation. He got straight to the point. “We need a divorce. Claire’s pregnant.” I blinked. Maybe he expected hysterics. A screaming match. Sobbing. The kind of raw, messy scene he was clearly bracing for. But I just felt… nothing. A strange detachment, as if I were listening to gossip about a stranger. The coldness in Carter’s eyes intensified. “Look, I know I owe you,” he said, his voice clipped. “Name your terms for the divorce. Anything you want, within reason, it’s yours.” “I’m sorry,” I said, my voice laced with genuine confusion, “who are you? Are you my husband? That’s impossible. I have a boyfriend. His name is Ethan.” I was starting to get angry now. This wasn’t funny. Not at all. I was in love with someone. Ethan was kind, he was gentle—he was everything this cold, arrogant stranger in front of me was not. 2 Carter’s face darkened, his jaw clenching. “Ava, don’t test me. Marrying you was a mistake from the start. It’s always been Claire. If you had any self-respect, you would have stepped aside the moment she came back. This whole mess, you getting targeted by those criminals… it all happened because you wouldn’t let go.” Crack. The sound of my hand connecting with his cheek echoed in the quiet parking lot. “Are you out of your mind?” I yelled, my voice shaking with rage. “I told you, I have a boyfriend! What the hell are you talking about? If he hears this and gets the wrong idea, I swear I will make you regret it!” Five red finger marks bloomed on Carter’s face. He stared at me, utterly stunned. Leo was just as shocked, his eyes wide with disbelief. They exchanged a look, a silent, frantic communication, and then they were both grabbing my arms, dragging me back into the hospital. After a battery of tests, the doctors found nothing physically wrong. Their best guess was that the long coma had caused some kind of selective amnesia. It was, they said, not unheard of for trauma patients to lose memories of certain people or events. But that was the strange part. I remembered everything else. My childhood, my friends, my life. Everything except being married to Carter Prescott. Back in the parking lot, I stared him down. “First of all,” I said, enunciating each word with precision, “I don’t like you. So don’t flatter yourself. Second, the courthouse is still open. Let’s go get that divorce right now. And third, get the hell out of my life.” Leo had never seen me speak to Carter with such venom. He was used to the old Ava, the one who would blush at the mere mention of Carter’s name. This was like seeing a different person entirely. He leaned in, whispering, “Don’t do this, Ava. What if you remember everything later? You’ll regret this.” I looked at my brother, my gaze flat and unwavering. “I won’t.” He tried to argue, but I cut him off. “If I divorce him, Claire gets to go from being the mistress to the new Mrs. Prescott. If you keep pushing, I might just remember everything, and then where would your precious Claire be?” Leo’s face flushed with anger. “That’s your sister! How can you talk about her like that?” “You’re the ones who told me I’m married to this man,” I shot back. “While I was in a coma, Claire got pregnant with his child. That makes her the other woman. Does basic morality mean nothing to you people?” “And another thing,” I continued, my voice rising. “I’m your sister, too. In the months I was in rehab, I didn’t see you once. Mom and Dad showed up for five minutes to ask the doctor if I was still fertile.” “I wondered why they’d ask that. But now it all makes sense. They already knew Claire was pregnant. If I couldn’t have children, they would have had the perfect excuse to pressure me into a quiet, graceful exit.” Carter’s expression shifted. The aggressive certainty was gone, replaced by a flicker of doubt. “You really don’t remember?” he asked, his voice low. “If this is some new game to get my attention…” I couldn’t help it; I rolled my eyes with theatrical disgust. “You’re not as handsome as Ethan, and you’re certainly not as kind. Why on earth would I choose you? At this point, I’m starting to doubt this whole marriage story. Has my taste really gotten so bad that I’d end up with a piece of work like you?” Fire seemed to ignite in Carter’s eyes. “You were the one who chased me across the world,” he snarled. “You bent over backwards to win over my family. I never would have married you if Claire hadn’t left the country.” I shook my head, a reflexive denial. “Impossible. I would never be that pathetic. Comparing you to Ethan is like… he was filet mignon, and you’re gas station jerky. If I was going to humiliate myself chasing after a man, it would have been him. Never you.” Seeing me repeatedly deny our past, treating him like something I’d scraped off my shoe, sent Carter into a rage. He looked like he wanted to devour me whole. “Whatever,” I said, waving a dismissive hand. “If we were really married, let’s just go get the divorce. It’s not a big deal. The clerk’s office is open for at least another two hours.” “It’s Saturday!” he bit out. So, no divorce today. Leo abandoned me, leaving me in Carter’s care before speeding off. A part of me was morbidly curious about this lost chapter of my life, so I agreed to go back with him. The moment I stepped into the Prescott villa, a wave of profound discomfort washed over me. Every cell in my body screamed in protest. I took a step back. “I think I’ll get a hotel. This place… it feels haunted.” Carter turned, glaring at me. “I told you, don’t test my patience—” Before he could finish, I was already five yards down the driveway. He caught up in three long strides, his fingers clamping around my wrist. His face was a mask of fury. “Are you incapable of understanding English?” That did it. I ripped my arm from his grasp. “You say this is my home,” I sneered, “so why doesn’t it feel like one? Why do my brain and my body both reject the very idea of setting foot inside? Are you even my husband? Or is this some sick lie you and my brother cooked up? What do you want from me?” I was genuinely suspicious now. Leo never liked me. It wasn’t a stretch to think he could have sold me to this man. For what purpose, I couldn’t imagine. Carter fell silent. His silence was all the confirmation I needed. I drove my foot into his thigh, hard. As he buckled in pain, I ran. Once I was clear of the gated community, I called my best friend, Maya. When she heard my voice, she booked the next flight. At midnight, I was huddled by a trash can, exhausted and starving, when Maya finally arrived. We just held each other and cried. The reunion was punctuated only by the loud, pathetic grumbling of my stomach. We checked into a hotel. As I devoured a club sandwich and recounted the sins of my heartless family and my supposed husband, Maya sat across from me, her jaw on the floor. “Why do you look so surprised?” I asked, mouth full. “Is Carter Prescott really my husband?” Maya nodded furiously. “You chased him for over a decade, Ava. You were his loyal shadow… you don’t remember any of it?” Faint, hazy images flickered at the edge of my mind. “But… didn’t I get together with Ethan in college? I’m not a cheater. Even if I used to have a crush on Carter, I would never have betrayed Ethan to be with him.” Maya’s mouth opened, then closed. Her eyes grew red-rimmed. “…It seems you’ve forgotten a lot.” She pulled me into a hug. “Waking up is what matters. A year ago… you and Claire were both kidnapped. Poisoned. And that psychopath Carter, knowing damn well the whole thing might have been staged by Claire, gave the only antidote to her. You became a vegetable, Ava. It’s a miracle you’re here. Your guardian angel must have been working overtime.” She tried for a joke, but her voice broke and the tears started again. “Just forgetting things… maybe it’s for the best. It can only be a good thing for you.” I nodded against her shoulder. “I’m divorcing him.” Maya stroked my hair. “Good. Do it now, before you remember anything else. That man doesn’t deserve a second of your time.” She was terrified that if my memory returned, I’d go right back to chasing him. “Even if I remember, I’m done,” I said, my voice hard. “Claire is pregnant. They had a baby while I was lying in a hospital bed. They’re disgusting.” Hearing the pure contempt in my voice, Maya let out a long, shaky breath. “If I’d known amnesia would turn you into this badass, I would’ve hired a hypnotist years ago to make you forget him.” “Was I… really that in love with him?” I asked, the idea seeming utterly alien. Maya gave a sad smile. “It wasn’t love, sweetie. It was an obsession.” She changed the subject then, clearly unwilling to dredge up painful memories that might trigger a full return. The next afternoon, I woke to the sound of shouting. Before my eyes were even open, I could hear Maya’s furious voice. “…the absolute nerve of you! You shameless bitch, sleeping with your own sister’s husband, getting pregnant… you make me sick! You’re trash!” “Oh, don’t you dare play dead with me! There are cameras in this hallway, I haven’t laid a finger on you! Don’t you try to frame me! For all we know, that baby isn’t even Carter’s…” Maya’s voice grew louder, more frantic. I scrambled out of bed. In the doorway stood Claire, draped in a white dress, looking pale and fragile. Next to her was my brother, Leo. As Maya’s insults hit their mark, Leo lunged forward and wrapped his hand around her throat. Seeing that, a primal rage erupted in me. I shot across the room and punched my brother square in the eye. He cried out in pain, stumbling back and letting go of Maya, his hands flying to his face. Maya collapsed against the doorframe, coughing and gasping for air. I pushed her behind me, turning on Leo. “What the hell are you doing here?” I screamed. “Trying to commit murder? Get out!” Suddenly, Claire sank to her knees in front of me, tears streaming down her perfect face. “Ava, why does everyone blame me?” she sobbed. “Carter has only ever loved me. You took advantage of me being overseas, you tricked him into marrying you. And a year ago, you used the kidnapping to hurt yourself, just to avoid divorcing him. You’re the one who’s wrong in all of this…” Before she could finish, a crisp slap silenced her. It was followed by two more, just as loud, catching her completely by surprise. I’d hit her three times. My palm was stinging. “Wow,” I said, shaking my hand out. “Your face is so thick it actually hurts to slap it.” Behind me, Maya started clapping enthusiastically. “Yes, baby! You’re amazing!” I shot Maya a look, a silent command. She understood immediately and ducked back into the room to get her phone. Leo, having recovered, saw Claire’s red cheek and roared, “Ava, are you trying to die? How dare you hit Claire! She’s our sister—”

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