Author: Momo Chan

One day, after returning home early from a business trip, I overheard my seven-year-old daughter say something to my wife. “Mom! I really like Daddy Jonathan! Can I go out with him again?” I stood frozen at the doorway, hearing my wife, who was always so cold to me, respond with a smile to our daughter. “Of course, sweetie! He’s your real father, after all. As long as you like him, that’s all that matters.” My name is Micah Miller, and Jonathan Reed… he’s my wife’s first love. I secretly did a paternity test, but I couldn’t bring myself to open it. I couldn’t accept it… The daughter I’ve raised for seven years isn’t mine? It was a devastating blow to me. I smoked cigarette after cigarette, filling the entire office with a thick, suffocating cloud. It wasn’t until my assistant, Megan Carter, came in that I realized I needed to put it out. She asked, “Mr. Miller, are you okay today?” I forced a grim smile and shook my head, asking her what was on her mind. She placed a stack of files on my desk. “The project you’ve been working on has come through. It just needs your signature.” “Alright, leave it there.” I nodded. She hesitated, seeing how distracted I was, but then she turned and left without saying anything. I lit another cigarette, watching the smoke swirl around as it blurred my vision. It eventually settled on the paternity test that had been lying on my desk for days. I stared at it, lost in thought, for what felt like forever. I only snapped out of it when the cigarette burned down and singed my hand. With a deep breath, I slowly opened the envelope. It was something I had to face sooner or later. What was there to be afraid of? The result was clear: the daughter I had adored for seven years had no biological connection to me. “…” Strangely, when I saw the result, it felt like a huge weight had finally been lifted off my chest. I wasn’t upset or anxious anymore, but… oddly calm. In hindsight, I should’ve suspected something was off long ago. Seven years ago, I was still pursuing Samantha Bennett, but she didn’t show much interest in me. In fact, she seemed to dislike me. Then, out of the blue, she asked me out for dinner one night, got me drunk, and things naturally progressed from there. I didn’t use protection that night. She said it was fine, that she was in her safe period. The next few times we met, she didn’t ask me to use protection either. After that, her attitude toward me became softer. At least, she acknowledged I was her boyfriend. Not long after, she dropped a bombshell: she was pregnant and wanted to keep the baby. When she gave birth, it was a rough delivery. She nearly bled out. If it weren’t for the doctors’ quick thinking, both she and the baby might not have survived. I didn’t want her to ever go through that kind of pain again, so I got a vasectomy. Having one daughter was enough for me. Looking back now, I can’t believe how naive I was. I never questioned her for a second! Samantha knew who the baby’s father was from the start, which is why she had no problem with me not using protection. I had been played for a fool—just a convenient option to raise someone else’s kid. The child I’ve loved for seven years wasn’t mine at all. She was Jonathan Reed’s. What a joke! If I hadn’t come home early from that business trip, I might have never found out that I was raising another man’s child. Thank God for my daughter’s innocent honesty. If she hadn’t blurted it out, Samantha would’ve kept it hidden forever. Honestly, I wish I hadn’t found out. I wish she had kept this from me for life because now… everything has changed. Our marriage, which had seemed like a free-spirited romance, wasn’t simple at all. There were deeper, more complicated motives behind it. 2 Samantha’s and my family backgrounds weren’t all that different. Both of our families ran businesses. When I first pursued her, it wasn’t for her family’s money; my family wasn’t any worse off than hers. But over time, our families became business rivals. My father thought that marrying Samantha could help form an alliance between our companies. It was convenient because I’d already been pursuing her for quite a while. At the time, I didn’t know that our relationship would become so transactional. It wasn’t until she was pregnant, and I visited her family, that I realized there was more going on behind the scenes. Both of our parents laughed it off, saying, “What a coincidence! Business rivals on the surface, but in private, we’re becoming family!” Looking back, it’s ridiculous. Samantha and her family were using me. In fact, I’m certain this wasn’t a coincidence at all. It was a calculated move from the start. I had known for a long time that Samantha didn’t really like me. After we got married, she was cold and distant. But I convinced myself that the child was mine. I thought I had to take responsibility and make sure I didn’t let her down. I believed that if I was sincere enough, eventually, I would win her heart. I thought that over time, she’d feel the same love she had shown me in the beginning, when she seduced me so easily. But now, all my sincerity and good intentions feel like a joke. I’m the clown in this story. Lily, my daughter, seemed to know the truth all along. She knew she had another father… Could it be that whenever I left on business trips, the father she thought about wasn’t me? Samantha has been watching from the sidelines all these years, letting me run in circles, fooled by their lies. I must look ridiculous in her eyes—a perfect, unsuspecting fool. Haha. I don’t even know how to describe my feelings right now. I just know I’m strangely calm. Ding. A text message came through. It was from Samantha, which was rare. She hardly ever reached out to me first. “I heard you’ve been back from your trip for a few days? Why haven’t you come home? Lily’s been crying for you, saying she misses her daddy!” I let out a bitter chuckle, shaking my head. Crying for me? Or is she crying for the other dad? How can you, as her mother, not know which one she means? I’ve been home for a week now, but they didn’t seem to notice. The first message I get is today. I had planned to surprise them with my return, but instead, they’re the ones who surprised me—no, shocked me. I needed some time alone to cool off. Otherwise, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet about all of this. No man could stay calm after discovering something like this, pretending nothing had happened. I didn’t want to blow up in front of Lily. No matter what… she’s still an innocent child. So, I didn’t go home. I didn’t tell anyone. I stayed at the office, with Megan bringing me meals. I scrolled back through my messages, seeing the one I sent her that night after I found out the truth. I’d told her I’d landed a big project and would be busy for a while… and she hadn’t responded. Maybe she hadn’t even noticed it. Or maybe, like always, she just didn’t care what I had to say. I put down my phone and lit another cigarette. The ashtray on my desk was already filled to the brim with stubs. “Whoosh—” I exhaled a cloud of smoke, leaning back in my chair as I stared at the fading swirls. Exhaustion washed over me. What did I do wrong? Why would she do this to me? Was I trying to warm up a heart that couldn’t be warmed? Or… was I the one who was wrong from the start? Maybe it would’ve been better to remain in the dark. 3 I didn’t reply to Samantha’s text. She never had much patience with me, so it didn’t take long for her to call. Her voice was sharp and demanding right from the start. “Micah! What are you doing? Why aren’t you answering my texts?” “Oh, sorry. I’ve been busy at work…” I didn’t even finish before she cut me off, her voice dripping with impatience. “Work, work, work! Is that all you care about? Don’t you know you have a family? Don’t you realize your daughter needs you?” “…” I stayed silent, my mind buzzing. I wanted to ask her so badly: And you, Samantha? Don’t you know you have a husband? Does he know that his daughter isn’t even his? Does he know you’ve been lying to him all these years? The words stuck in my throat, and my eyes fell on the family photo on my desk—Lily’s bright, innocent smile staring back at me. I swallowed my anger. “She’s sick. Pick up some of her favorite snacks and bring them to the hospital,” she said coldly before hanging up. I stood there, listening to the dial tone with a bitter smile. Funny. Why didn’t she call the other dad for this? I could easily guess what had happened. Lily probably wore herself out playing too much, and now it was up to me to clean up the mess. I saw the location Samantha sent me, and as much as it filled me with humiliation and anger, I couldn’t bear to think of Lily looking so small and sick. Seven years. Seven years of loving this child. How could I not care about her? So I sighed, put on my coat, and went to buy her favorite snacks before heading to the hospital. When I got to the hospital room, I heard Lily’s voice through the door, clear as day: “Daddy Jonathan, look! I was so brave! I didn’t even cry when they gave me the shot. Wasn’t I the best?” Through the small glass window on the door, I saw him—Jonathan Reed, wearing a doctor’s coat, smiling at Lily. “Yes, you were so brave! Just like my little girl should be,” he said, ruffling her hair as she giggled. Beside them, Samantha’s face was soft, warm, and full of affection. In the seven years we’ve been married, I’ve never seen her look at me like that. My heart clenched. That man in the doctor’s coat—Jonathan Reed—was her first love. And now, as if life was mocking me, he was Lily’s real father. Watching their happy little family from the hallway, I felt a sudden, overwhelming sense of isolation. It was as if they were a family of three, and I… was just the outsider. No, scratch that. They are a family. Lily is their daughter. And I? I’m just the outsider. The joke. It felt like a weight was crushing my chest. I could barely breathe. Why did this hurt so much? I rushed here, bought her favorite snacks, thinking she needed me, only to find out the real reason they wanted me here was because Jonathan was the doctor on call. Lily got to see her biological dad, and Samantha got to be with the man she truly loved. And me? I’m nothing more than a joke. The biggest fool in the world. 4 It felt like a green light was flashing over me, head to toe, branding me as the fool. I stood frozen in place. I couldn’t move. It wasn’t until Jonathan noticed me standing outside that he adjusted his glasses and said, “Micah?” The moment my name left his lips, Samantha’s warm smile disappeared, replaced by her usual coldness. She didn’t even try to hide her contempt for me. “You’re finally here! Took you long enough! Lily hasn’t eaten a thing since she got sick. Are you trying to starve her?” Of course. The familiar tone. That suffocating pressure she always brings. It made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. “I’m sorry, Lily. Daddy’s late, but I brought you your favorite…” I forced a smile as I spoke to my daughter. Before I could even finish, Samantha cut me off again, her voice sharp. “What’s the point of showing up now? Dr. Reed already brought her food. You’re always too busy to be there for your own daughter, and it’s always left to someone else to take care of her!” Lily, always so “understanding,” added, “Thanks, Daddy! But Dr. Reed says I can’t have dessert after meals, haha.” I stared at her, the same little girl I’d loved for seven years, and felt a strange, bitter taste in my mouth. She probably thought she was being so considerate. But I couldn’t help it… For the first time, I felt a sense of unfamiliarity and… disgust toward the child I’d raised. It was as if she wasn’t mine anymore. And that “Dr. Reed”—just minutes ago, wasn’t she calling him “Daddy Jonathan”? She had grown up. She knew not to call him “Daddy” in front of me anymore, playing along with the lies Samantha had spun all these years. What a good daughter, huh? “So, Daddy waited in line for a long time to buy your favorite snacks. You don’t want them?” I held out the bag, but my expression was slipping. Lily hesitated. After all, they were her favorite treats. “Leave them. Lily didn’t eat much. She can have them as a snack later,” Jonathan said, always the rational doctor. Lily’s eyes lit up as she clapped her hands. “Yay! I get to have them later!” “No!” Samantha scolded from the side, her voice sharp. “You’ve already had dinner! No more snacks, especially after you’ve brushed your teeth. You don’t want to get cavities, do you? Be good and listen to Mommy.” She called me to buy the snacks, but now she’s the one making the rules. I was holding back my frustration, not wanting to lose my temper in front of Lily. “It’s fine. She’s still sick. She needs the sugar for energy. Besides, she’s growing. She could use the extra calories,” Jonathan chimed in, making it all seem so reasonable. Lily looked up at Samantha with those puppy eyes, silently pleading. “See, Mommy? Dr. Reed said it’s okay!” “Alright, just this once,” Samantha finally relented, and Lily cheered happily. “You spoil her too much,” she said to Jonathan, her tone warm and affectionate. “…” I stood there, feeling out of place, as if they had forgotten I existed. The room wasn’t that big. Four people could fit in it, but in their eyes, there were only three of them. I was nothing more than a ghost.

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The hurricane was on its way, but my mom insisted on opening the windows to let some air in. I told her it was dangerous and begged her not to. Yet, in the middle of the night, while I was asleep, she secretly opened the balcony doors and windows. In an instant, the glass doors shattered, and the hurricane stormed into the living room. I was asleep on the couch when the wind picked me up half a meter into the air. I begged my mom to pull me back. But she, afraid I’d drag her down with me, kicked me away. “Don’t blame your mom for being ruthless. Once you’re dead, your house and money will all belong to your brother!” The hurricane swept me out of the 18th floor, and I died instantly when I hit the ground. My mom turned to my dad and brother, cooking a pot of Maryland Blue Crabs to celebrate. She stubbornly muttered: “If she had just agreed to open the windows earlier, none of this would’ve happened.” She and Dad took all my savings, gave my house to my brother as his new wedding home, and drained me of every last bit of value. When I opened my eyes again, I had been reborn. Reborn three hours before the hurricane hit. My mom was already on her way, dragging the family along with their luggage, heading to me. “Sweetheart, come pick us up! The wind outside is crazy!” 0

“Come pick us up! The wind out here is wild!” On the other side of the video call, my mom stood at the entrance of the Atlanta Amtrak Station. Her voice, mixed with the howling wind, beat against my eardrums. My calf suddenly cramped, and I was drenched in sweat, gasping for breath. In my previous life, I fell to my death from the 18th floor. Back then, the hurricane hit. My mom insisted on opening the windows to air out the house and, in the middle of the night, snuck out and opened the balcony doors. The floor-to-ceiling windows shattered, and shards of glass scattered all over the living room. The hurricane, with winds up to Category 5, burst into the room. While I was asleep on the couch, completely unguarded, I was tossed half a meter into the air. My mom cowered behind the couch, staring at me in terror. Neighbors began to wake up one after another, their lights flickering on in the dark. I didn’t have time to question why, even though I had triple-checked and locked the windows before bed, they were now wide open. All I could do was cling desperately to the balcony door frame, screaming for my mom, who was hiding nearby. “Mom! Help me—!” The rain lashed against the windows, soaking my cotton pajamas, and the icy water dripped onto my eyelids, making me shiver uncontrollably. But not only did my mom not help, she kicked me away. “Get off me! Don’t drag me down with you!” I stared at her, wide-eyed in disbelief. The sharp pain radiating from my fingers hammered into my brain, reminding me that this nightmare was all too real. My mom kicked me again, venting years of pent-up anger: “You’ve only been giving us $500 a month for household expenses! Don’t think I don’t know you’re making $3,000! “Your brother needs a down payment for his house, and you refuse to help him. I didn’t raise such an ungrateful daughter!” It felt like someone had grabbed my heart and squeezed. My mom had always prided herself on treating my brother and me equally, never favoring one over the other. But now, for the first time, I was hearing her true thoughts… Lightning flashed across the sky. Her face twisted into an expression of rage I had never seen before. “You couldn’t even let your brother stay here for a few days, huh? Fine. Don’t blame me for being heartless. “If you die, your house and money will all go to your brother!” She kicked me again, this time with such force that she nearly slipped in the rain. There was a sickening crack. My fingers twisted and broke, forcing me to release my grip on the door frame. “Mom…” I was swept up by the hurricane, my white pajamas billowing in the wind, flapping like a sail. “Oh my God, she’s going to fall!” Cries of panic echoed from the building. A neighbor opened a window, reaching out to grab me, but their fingertips barely grazed the wet fabric of my clothes. “Thud—” A heavy, dull sound. My blood splattered like a web, spreading across the pavement, mixing with the rain as it flowed into the drains. The last thing I saw before everything went dark was my mom, standing on the 18th floor, looking down at me with a cold, indifferent glance. “Sweetheart?” My mom’s voice pulled me back to the present. In the blurry video call, her face, creased with wrinkles, twisted into a fake, calculating smile. “Hurry and come pick us up! The wind at the Atlanta Amtrak Station is crazy! Big cities sure are wild!” I snapped back to reality, my voice cold. “I already told you—I’m busy with work. You shouldn’t have come. “Either get back on the train or find a hotel. I’m not hosting you.” 02 I hung up the phone and immediately turned the car around. Watching the GPS show the station getting farther and farther away, I finally exhaled in relief. My brother, Emerson, had failed his exams and spent the last two years doing nothing. My parents used their connections to get him into Crestview Prep Academy in Atlanta. This time, they came to me because they wanted Emerson to live with me while he retook his exams, expecting me to take care of his meals and everything else. But I’m at a crucial stage in my career, and with Atlanta’s real estate prices so high, there’s no way my small Midtown condo could house two people. So, I refused and told them Emerson had to stay in the dorms. But my mom started complaining, saying I wasn’t giving enough for household expenses, and accusing me of not helping Emerson buy a house for his wedding. She called me selfish and ungrateful. And so, a simple disagreement became the spark that led my mom to kill me during the hurricane. The radio in the car crackled to life: [“A super hurricane has made landfall in the Gulf Coast, with maximum winds reaching Category 5. This is the strongest fall hurricane to hit the U.S. since 1949. All citizens are urged to take precautions.”] Without hesitation, I headed straight for the Marietta Farmer’s Market. This time, my parents hadn’t given me any warning they were coming to Atlanta. In my last life, I wasn’t prepared at all. When the hurricane hit, the four of us were crammed into my tiny condo, and within two days, we had eaten through all the food I had stocked. This time, I stormed into the market, buying potatoes and cabbage that would last a while, along with frozen seafood and hot pot ingredients. I also grabbed several cases of fruit and drinks, stuffing the entire trunk of the car. Finally, I stopped by a restaurant and ordered a ton of food. “Beef brisket, spicy chicken, pork belly… hurry up and pack it all to-go!” The takeout boxes were stacked like a mountain, filling the back seat of the car. While I waited, my phone buzzed with nonstop calls from my parents. “Sweetheart, we’ve come all this way! How could you send us back?” “Ivy, we traveled across the country to see you, and this is how you treat us? Raising you was a waste!” “Yeah, Ivy, how could you be so heartless? Mom and Dad came all this way just for you. Don’t you feel guilty?” My mom sent a voice message too, sounding pitiful: “Sweetie, I brought you your favorite homemade eggs. At least let me drop them off for you. I’m not here with any bad intentions.” In the picture, the eggs were cracked, the yolk leaking through the red plastic bag. I chuckled bitterly to myself. Love is a fickle thing. Where there’s money, there’s love. Emerson does nothing at home, yet he always gets the newest iPhone every year, wears expensive sneakers, and lives better than I do. I may earn $3,000 a month from my tech job, but after taxes, my mortgage, and renovation loans, nearly $2,000 goes to the bank. And with my mom asking for $500 a month, I barely get by. I sighed, blocked all three of them on WeChat, and used the restaurant’s Wi-Fi to download TV shows and movies. I remembered the hurricane would knock out the power, and the whole Brookstone Heights Subdivision would be without electricity for days. I still had about an hour and a half before the hurricane hit. When I got home, ready to haul the groceries in with a dolly, I noticed something strange. The doormat was wet. Something wasn’t right. Sure enough. The moment I opened the door, I saw it. The room was soaked. Several umbrellas, dripping with dirty water, were scattered around the entryway. Emerson had kicked off his socks, his filthy feet sprawled across my cream-colored bed, lying carelessly beside my underwear. Dad was chain-smoking, cigarette butts littered the floor, with burn marks scorched into the carpet. And my mom was rifling through my fridge, slabs of raw beef spread across the floor next to her. When she noticed me, she turned and smiled casually. “Ivy, you’re back! I noticed you had some beef in the fridge, so I’ll cook it up for your brother later!” 03 I snapped at them, “How did you get into my house? Didn’t I tell you to go back home?” Emerson smirked and let out a small chuckle. “Mom already found out where you live. Besides, you should know what I do for a living.” I took a deep breath. For the past two years since graduating high school, Emerson had been working as a locksmith’s apprentice, so he had no trouble picking my lock and getting into my apartment. “This is illegal. I’ll call the cops!” But before I could act, my mom slammed her hand down on my phone. “We’re family! What’s with all the drama? I told you we were coming, didn’t I? Look, I even brought you some eggs from home.” She held up a few large bags with a triumphant smile, showing off the eggs, pickled vegetables, and some homemade bread that was so stale it felt like it had been sitting out for weeks. But while she was pinching pennies with homemade food, she had no problem raiding my fridge for the good stuff—salmon, beef, seafood—all gifts from friends, things I barely allowed myself to touch. The contrast was heartbreaking. My mom looked around my apartment, critiquing everything as usual. “Ivy, this pink bedspread is ridiculous. Toss it out and get something your brother can use! “And he’s staying with you for the next year, so you’d better take good care of him. “He’s still growing! Buy more salmon and seafood for him, okay?” Listening to her rambling, my fists clenched as my thoughts raced. The hurricane was coming soon. Even if I called the police, they wouldn’t make it in time. It was clear: staying here wasn’t an option. I forced a smile at the chaos around me. “Okay, Mom.” I had already given them chances. I wasn’t going to stop what was coming. After all, a couple of deaths during a hurricane was just normal, right?

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After seven years of marriage, my husband’s mistress barged into my home with a group of people, accusing me of being the other woman. “This is the home of that sidepiece! Look how fancy it’s decorated. She must have spent my husband’s money!” They trashed my house, leaving it in ruins. And my husband? He threatened me with divorce if I didn’t let it go. “I’m running the company now, and you’re just a stay-at-home mom with a child. After a divorce, what could you possibly rely on?” Well, it looks like it’s time to start preparing for a future without him.\ 0I had just finished getting my baby to sleep when the front door rattled under the sound of loud, aggressive knocks. The nanny hurried to open it, but before she could even see who it was, she was shoved aside roughly. “This is the home of that sidepiece! Look how lavish the place is. She must have spent my husband’s money!” “Trash the place! Teach this trashy woman a lesson, make sure she never dares to be a homewrecker again!” A crowd of people flooded into my house. The woman leading them scanned the room, her eyes gleaming with greed, then barked orders to the others behind her. They didn’t hesitate, rushing forward to destroy everything they could get their hands on. Some even stuffed valuables into their pockets. The sound of things smashing against the floor echoed around the house, turning my once pristine home into a disaster zone. “What are you doing?!” The nanny, regaining her senses, tried to stop them but was shoved hard to the ground. I rushed out of the nursery, alarmed by the noise, only to find chaos unfolding before my eyes. The woman leading the mob pointed at me the moment she saw me. “So, you’re the shameless woman who seduced my husband? Let me show you what happens to women like you!” Someone was recording a video, thrusting their phone right up in my face. “Everyone, take a good look at this homewrecker! Whenever you see her in the street, make sure you remind her of the consequences of being a sidepiece!” I knocked the phone aside, stunned by the state of the room. “Who are you people?!” I demanded. “I’m warning you, stop this now, or there will be consequences!” I gestured for the nanny to call security. The woman sneered. “Consequences? Did you think about consequences when you seduced Connor Holt and became his mistress?” “And all this?” She waved her hand at the room. “You bought it all with my husband’s money. This house is mine! I can do whatever I want with what’s rightfully mine!” Her words made no sense. Connor Holt was my husband, and I certainly didn’t need to steal him. “Are you sure you’ve got the right person? Connor is my husband. We got married at the Orange County Courthouse, and our child is already a year old. How could I possibly be a mistress?” I pulled out the photo we had taken when we got our marriage license, showing it to her. She barely glanced at it before slapping the phone from my hand. “You’ve got some nerve. You even photoshopped a fake marriage photo! Trying to pass yourself off as the wife, huh?” “You’re not even brave enough to admit what you are, a homewrecker. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you a proper lesson today!” It was clear she had made up her mind that I was the other woman, and I’d had enough. She raised her hand to slap me, but I caught her wrist mid-swing and delivered a slap of my own. The bright red handprint on her now-swollen cheek stood out starkly. She screamed and lunged at me, but by then, security had arrived and restrained her. They apologized profusely, blaming their lapse in security for allowing these people into my home. “What do you want us to do with them?” they asked. I waved dismissively. “Take them to the Newport Beach Police Department.” At the mention of the police, the group panicked. “How can a sidepiece like you have the nerve to call the cops?” “We’re not afraid of the police! We’re just standing up for justice against homewreckers. This society needs people like us!” I smirked, returning to my bedroom. I retrieved our marriage certificate and threw it at their feet. “Take a good look. We’re legally married. If there’s a mistress in this scenario, it’s you.” 02 The arrogance they displayed in my house quickly vanished once they reached the police station. I sat before them with a stack of receipts and purchase records. “These are the items they destroyed. The damage is worth several hundred thousand dollars. I want them to compensate me fully.” “We have everything on the home security cameras,” I added, shifting my gaze to the woman who led the attack. “And if I remember correctly, you also stole three necklaces and five rings from my home. The value of those items alone meets the criteria for a felony. I’m pressing charges for breaking and entering and theft.” The moment they heard how much money was at stake, the group turned on each other. “Danielle, this is all your fault! If you hadn’t told us you were cheated on and asked for our help, we wouldn’t be in this mess!” “If you want to blame someone, blame yourself. You should cover the cost. We wouldn’t even be here if it wasn’t for you!” So the ringleader’s name was Danielle. She never expected the situation to turn on her like this. “What do you mean? When I told you all about it, you were happy to jump on board, saying this would boost your social media following. Now that we’re in trouble, you want to distance yourselves?” “If you weren’t so greedy, none of this would’ve happened!” As the two groups bickered, nearly coming to blows, I handed over the evidence to the police and left them to deal with it. I had more important matters to handle. Danielle showing up at my house, knowing exactly where I lived and mentioning Connor’s name meant something had happened between them. I had already suspected Connor of cheating, but I was nearing my due date and needed him to help manage the company, so I turned a blind eye to his behavior—so long as it didn’t interfere with me. Besides, Connor had signed a prenuptial agreement before we married, promising that if he ever cheated, he’d leave with nothing. Now that the baby was born, it was time to act on my plan to get him out of the picture. My childhood friend, Brooke Sinclair, called as soon as she heard about the break-in. We hadn’t spoken in a while, so it was a surprise to hear from her. She sounded shocked when I told her I had sent them all to jail and was seeking compensation. Then, to my surprise, she said, “Vivian, your house is fine now, and you’ve got plenty of money. Those people are pitiful. Maybe there’s been a misunderstanding. Why don’t you let it go?” Her words made me laugh. “Brooke, are you serious? I’m the victim here. They trashed my house, and I even warned them. Do you think I forced them to act like this? Maybe you should quit being human and go become a saint!” Brooke was offended. “Vivian, how can you say that? If your family wasn’t so wealthy, they wouldn’t have done what they did. If you don’t forgive them, I… I’ll end our friendship!” I was stunned by her audacity. How could she side with them after nearly ten years of friendship? “Brooke, don’t twist the facts to blame the victim. They deserved everything they got!” “And you know what? I don’t need a friend like you in my life. If you’re so sympathetic toward them, why don’t you go pay their compensation?” Without waiting for a response, I hung up and blocked her number. 03 A few days later, the investigator I hired confirmed what I had suspected. Connor had been cheating, and not just with one woman. What shocked me the most was that Brooke was one of his mistresses—and had been for the longest time. She had even given birth to his child, just a few months younger than mine. No wonder Danielle had been absent lately—she’d been off having her baby. The police called me, saying that the group who had vandalized my home wanted to see me. Perfect. I needed to confirm who had given them my address. Standing behind the protective screen, I looked at them coldly. “So, have you figured out how you’re going to split the cost of the damages?” I asked. “Or is there something you wanted to tell me?” With the others pressuring her, Danielle finally blurted out, “Actually, someone gave me your address and encouraged me to come after you. If I tell you who it was, will you drop the charges?” I snorted in disbelief. “You owe me a lot of money. If you tell me who it was, I’ll shave a little off the total, but you’re still paying.” Realizing they had no better options, Danielle clenched her teeth and said, “It was Brooke Sinclair. She’s the one who told me you were the mistress and gave me your address.” Exactly as I thought. Danielle didn’t know Brooke was also one of Connor’s mistresses. She probably thought Brooke was just another person outraged by affairs. Instead, she had been played as a pawn in Brooke’s plan to move up in Connor’s life. I leaned closer to the glass. “Did you know that Brooke is a mistress herself? She’s been with Connor longer than you, and they even have a child together.” “She’s been using you to get ahead.” Seeing the doubt on her face, I pulled out my phone and showed her photos of Brooke, Connor, and their child together. “Look at you now. Brooke’s sitting pretty while you’re buried in debt and hated by your so-called friends. You’re both mistresses, but you’re the one left with nothing.” Danielle’s eyes widened with rage. Now, I just had to sit back and watch as they tore each other apart. Based on the investigation, it was clear Connor had a particular fondness for Brooke. She’d been with him the longest, and he treated her better than any of the others. Brooke was smart, too. She knew about the other women but never raised a fuss. The other women didn’t even know each other existed. Connor had bought Brooke a house in downtown LA, similar in size and value to our home. Whatever she wanted, he provided immediately. But Connor wasn’t rich enough to support such high expenses on his salary alone. He’d been siphoning money from the company. It was time for me to take control of the business again. Otherwise, he might forget whose name was really on the company! 04 Connor Holt finally found out about the incident while he was away on a business trip. He rushed back, a look of concern plastered on his face as he asked if I was alright. The expression seemed genuine, and if I hadn’t already known what kind of man he truly was, I might have believed he actually cared about me. Sure enough, after I told him I was fine, he quickly switched gears and got to the real reason for his concern. “Vivian, I heard you had those people thrown in jail. Now that everything’s okay, why don’t you let it go? No need to waste the police’s time.” I gave him a side-eye and asked, “What if I don’t?” Connor’s face tightened. “Why do you have to hold a grudge? Can’t you just be the bigger person? Think of it as doing a good deed for the baby’s sake.” He thought he was smart, trying to use our child to manipulate me. But his little game wasn’t going to work. I let out a cold laugh. “Am I the one being petty, or is there someone in that group you’re particularly concerned about?” Danielle was Connor’s new fling, and things between them were getting pretty serious. That’s why she’d felt bold enough to come and cause trouble in my home. At my words, Connor’s face went rigid. “You’re imagining things. You know I only care about you. Can’t you stop being so paranoid? I just don’t want you to stress over this, especially since you’ve just had the baby.” He thought he was clever, believing his affairs had been so discreet that I’d never suspect a thing. I grabbed the stack of photos I had collected and threw them in his face. “Open your eyes, Connor. Did you really think I didn’t know?” The pictures showed him and a variety of women, entering and leaving different hotels. Connor still tried to wriggle his way out. “I was only doing this for you, for the business! It’s just part of client relations. You don’t understand how these things work. You’re just a stay-at-home mom; what do you know about business?” I shot back, “Does client relations require you to go to bed with them?” That shut him up. The last shred of his act fell away, and he gave up pretending. “Fine, you know everything now, so I won’t hide it anymore.” “If you don’t go to the police and get Danielle out of jail, then we’re getting a divorce.” “I’m in charge of the company now. You’re just a housewife with a kid. After the divorce, what do you think you’ll have left to rely on?” His voice was full of threats, confident that I wouldn’t dare leave him. He thought he had full control of the company and assumed that even in a divorce, the business would be his. I looked straight at him and said, “Alright, let’s get divorced.” Back when we were dating, Connor had believed I was madly in love with him. He thought he had me wrapped around his finger. Even when I made him sign a prenuptial agreement, he didn’t care, assuming it wouldn’t matter. What he didn’t know was that I only chose him for his genes. When I was about to take over the company, some old-fashioned board members tried to block me, saying I was a woman with no husband or children and that I’d eventually shift my focus to my family, making me unsuitable to run the business. Connor, with his good looks and perfect academic record, had played the part of the loving, devoted man well enough for me to decide he would be my husband. Once I took over the company, I swiftly dealt with those who had doubted me. Now that my plan was complete, Connor had outlived his usefulness. “You b*tch, Vivian! What did you say?” he shouted. 05 Connor stood there, stunned, as if he couldn’t believe I had agreed so easily. “Vivian, think carefully. If we divorce, you’ll be left with nothing,” he warned. I stood up and turned to the nanny. “Mrs. Lin, could you show him the door?” He stared at me, incredulous. “This is my house! You can’t kick me out!” I laughed in his face. “Don’t forget, I bought this house before we got married. The deed is in my name. This is my house. Now that we’re getting divorced, are you really going to cling to my place? Or should I have security throw you out?” Connor was too prideful to let that happen. His face twisted with anger, and he spat out, “Fine, Vivian. I’ll be waiting for the day you come crawling back, begging me to return.” But the one doing the begging would be him. 06 I eventually had Danielle bailed out. I had other plans for her. I’d done my research—she had been cheated on by her last boyfriend, which is why they broke up. The thing she hated most was being the other woman. Now, she had become exactly that, and not only that, she had been played by another mistress. She wouldn’t be able to let it go. Once she was out, she headed straight for Brooke Sinclair’s house. I made sure to send photos of Brooke and Connor to all of Connor’s other flings. Nothing sparks more fury than a woman discovering her “loyal” boyfriend has other lovers. Brooke was clever, though. Every time Connor got involved with a new woman, she would go out of her way to befriend them, acting like a sisterly figure, and then use them to get Connor’s attention back on her. Danielle and the other women were in Brooke’s place for a long time, and when they finally left, they seemed to be in high spirits. Once Danielle was gone, I arrived at Brooke’s front door with a few bodyguards. Brooke answered, but her greeting died in her throat when she saw me. Her face was swollen, her hair disheveled—she looked like she had been beaten badly. It seemed like Danielle and the others had given her a thorough punishment. “Vivian… what are you doing here?” Brooke stammered, her voice weak. I smiled. “Just came to check out the house Connor bought you.” I waved my hand toward the bodyguards. “Wreck it.” At my command, the men pushed past Brooke, wielding baseball bats, and began smashing everything in sight. “What are you doing?!” Brooke screamed. “Stop them!” she cried, trying to pull one of the guards away, but the housekeeper watched from the side, too afraid to intervene. The sound of a baby crying filled the air, startled by the chaos. Brooke looked at me with pure hatred in her eyes, as if I were her worst enemy. She rushed at me, but I grabbed her and held her back. “What’s wrong? Didn’t you say you hate mistresses? I’m just helping you teach one a lesson.” Her face went white, and she tried to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I gave her a light slap on the cheek. “Danielle told me everything.” “Your days of luxury are over.” Brooke, desperate, turned to the housekeeper and shouted, “Call the police! Call the police!” “She’s trespassing! I want her arrested!”

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I was born without a wolf, “You’re not alone anymore.” Mathew chimed in, “We’ll protect you. You’re family here.” I felt a flicker of hope. But then Ella returned, everything shattered when my mate, Alpha Mike, rejected me. “I can’t be with you,”. Banished and broken-hearted, I returned to my mother’s pack. I met Alpha Nicola. “You’re stronger than you know,” he said, as I felt my wolf awaken. With newfound power coursing through me, I uncovered the truth behind Ella’s betrayal. The night air bit into my skin as I looked up. “Alice.” Alpha Mike’s tone was clipped, cold, a blade meant to wound. “You’re weak. I cannot have weakness beside me. I, Alpha Mike, reject you.” My heart dropped. “You’re rejecting me? Just… just because I haven’t—” “Because you’re no wolf.” His eyes held no mercy. “You’re a liability.” Around us, whispers bega “Did she really think the Alpha would keep her?” “She’s a disgrace.” My father stood in the crowd, face blank, but I could see it—disappointment, etched like stone. I took a shaky breath, reaching out to her. “Mom… please—” He looked away, lips pressed tight. “Alice,” “you’ve made your bed. Now lie in it.” Tears pricked my eyes. He turned her back, his voice low. “Your new mate will be arranged by morning. Don’t make this harder.” “Moon Goddess, why? Why did you curse me like this?” I’m willing to go back and get married,” I murmured, almost too quietly to hear. “You—” My father began, half-hearted words of persuasion on his lips. “You… agreed?” “Yes, I agreed.” “That’s wonderful! Absolutely wonderful!” “I’ve been saying it all along—you should have agreed sooner! Alpha Nicola is a good match; he doesn’t mind that you haven’t shifted, and he respects you! And not to mention, his pack is only growing stronger…” I closed my eyes halfway, cutting him off with a weary sigh. “Dad, I’m tired.” I wasn’t sure how long I’d been lying there when footsteps sounded outside my door. The birthday girl, Ella, burst in, grinning ear to ear and balancing a slice of cake in her hand. She wore a sparkling gold crown, glinting like something out of a fairytale, giving her the air of a little princess. “Alice, come downstairs and join us!” she said, her voice dripping with cheer. I forced a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. “I’m not feeling great. You all go ahead—enjoy yourselves.” Ella’s eyes filling with tears. “Alice… do you… not like me? Is that why… why you never come and celebrate with us?” Here we go again. Playing the innocent, fragile girl who’s somehow always a victim. And of course, all the guys just eat it up. “Drop the act, Ella,” “I’m not coming. Isn’t this what you wanted?” She strolled to the door, but instead of leaving, she turned back with a smug look. “Alice, Alpha Mike ’s going to announce me as his Luna. I guess a weak, wolf-less girl like you should be happy with her place… rotting in the shadows.” She lifted the slice of cake in her hand and hurled it toward me. Instinctively, I raised my arm to block it, but to my shock, she stumbled back, falling with a loud thud. “Ella, what are you trying to pull?” I hissed, my voice low and filled with disbelief. Though I managed to block it in time, the cake still splattered across me, leaving me standing there, humiliated and disheveled. My sister, Ella, lay sprawled on the floor, a faint smile playing on her lips. Then, as if on cue, her eyes welled up with tears, spilling down her cheeks, painting her face with the perfect picture of innocence and betrayal. And just like that, an enraged howl tore through the hallway. “Alice!”

Two men charged up the stairs, their footsteps echoing down the hall. One rushed to Ella’s side, helping her up as she lay on the floor, while the other placed himself between us, his gaze fixed on me with barely contained rage. “Alice, what were you thinking? How could you be so cruel?” Alpha Mike’s voice was low and seething as he pulled Ella into his arms, gently massaging her back. “Are you hurt, Ella? Tell me you’re okay.” Ella looked up at him, her face pale and trembling, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m fine, Alpha Mike. Don’t be mad at Alice… I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” She sniffled, tears shimmering in her eyes, her voice filled with feigned innocence. I scoffed, a cold smile tugging at my lips. “I didn’t do anything,”Mathew, who had been standing in front of them. “Alice, this is too far.” “I told you, it wasn’t me,” I said sharply, turning to leave. The sticky mess of cake smeared across me was as disgusting as the whole scene itself. But before I could step past them, Mathew blocked my path. “Apologize, Alice. Apologize to Ella,” “Apologize?” I asked, incredulous. “For what? I told you, it wasn’t me!” Ella’s soft voice cut in from behind him. “Please, Alpha Mike… don’t be angry with Alice. I’m sure she didn’t mean to… to push me.” She cast a quick, sidelong glance at me, a hint of triumph flickering behind her teary eyes. “Do you see this, Alice? Look at her—she’s willing to forgive you, even after what you did. She’s still defending you!” “Are you done?” I turned and walked back into my room, shutting the door firmly behind me. Outside, I heard Alpha Mike’s frustrated growl, followed by a hard thud as he punched the wall in anger. “Who does she think she is?” he spat. But when he looked down at Ella, the anger melting into something sickeningly tender. “Ella, don’t let this spoil your night. Let’s get you cleaned up, and I’ll take you somewhere special. It’s your birthday, after all. No tears, okay?” Ella nuzzled into his embrace, wiping her tears on his shirt as she flashed me one last victorious glance through the crack in the door. “I won’t cry anymore, Alpha Mike. Not if you’re with me.” Behind the locked door, I sank against the wall. Once, I was the one they took care of—the one they trusted unconditionally, the one they vowed to protect. Growing up in Flowerland, I was fragile, a child plagued by severe allergies and a weakened immune system. The fields of wildflowers that blanketed my home city were beautiful to most, but to me, they were a storm of allergens that would leave me breathless and feverish if I dared step outside without medicine. When I was six, a severe allergic reaction nearly took my life, and my parents, heartbroken but resolute, sent me to live in the colder, flowerless Rivermoon pack with my grandparents. The change in climate gave me a break from the constant risk, and it was there that I met two boys in the small, tight-knit pack that shared our neighborhood: Alpha Mike and Mathew. The three of us were inseparable. They would swear time and time again to be my protectors, promising to make me their “princess,” saying they’d care for me for the rest of my life. When my grandparents passed away a few years later, Mike and Mathew took turns bringing me meals, memorizing every single allergen that could hurt me. In time, they knew my weaknesses even better than I did. As I grew older, my mother began urging me to return to the main pack, convinced I was strong enough to handle it. But I stayed, lingering in the warmth and care of my two closest. I’d begun to feel the stirrings of something deeper between Mike and me, a pull stronger than any friendship—a mate bond. But when did everything begin to unravel?

Everything changed the moment Ella arrived. I was sixteen when my father’s betrayal was exposed, and I had no choice but to move with him to the Riverland Pack, where he’d begun his new life. My half-sister Ella arrived not long after with her mother, my new stepmother. Ella knew just when to lean in, tilt her head, and soften her voice, using her helplessness like a weapon to draw men toward her. Where I was proud and unyielding, Ella made weakness an art form, the kind that could make every male around her feel like they were her knight in shining armor. When she arrived, Alpha Mike and Mathew, the two people I’d thought would stand by me no matter what, looked out for her at first only out of obligation. She was, after all, my sister. But once Ella had gained a foothold, she turned everything into a game I never realized I was losing until it was too late. One evening, I discovered she’d added both of them on WhatsApp, claiming it was to help her manage my needs more easily. But what had been a thread connecting us quickly became a chain tying them to her. Soon, it was no longer our bond of three—but hers. It wasn’t long before I began noticing the whispers, the glances. My connection with Mike grew strained as Ella found ways to insert herself deeper into his world. She didn’t shift yet, but it didn’t matter—her human form was enough to pull him under her spell, leaving me out in the cold. And Mathew, who had once promised to protect me, was swept up in her orbit, too, laughing at her jokes, defending her. Mike had always been impulsive, drawn to extreme sports like a moth to a flame. I’d warned him countless times, but he’d just chuckle and say, “Oh come on, life is too short! Just let me do what I love!” Yet now, for Ella’s sake, he hadn’t touched any extreme sports in six months, all because of a single word from her. On the other hand, Mathew, usually calm and reserved, had taken a surprising turn as well. He never liked crowds and preferred quiet evenings alone. But now, he was the one who insisted on hosting a big birthday party for Ella at our family villa. Mike’s pov I’ve known since I turned sixteen that Alice is my mate, but it feels wrong. She doesn’t even have a wolf. “How can someone so weak become a Luna?” I thought bitterly. “Alice is beautiful, you know,” Mathew said, leaning against the wall with a smirk. “Yeah, beautiful enough to drive me crazy,” I snapped, running a hand through my hair. “All the guys in the pack want her—not as a mate, just for fun.” “It infuriates you, huh?” Mathew chuckled. “But she doesn’t even have a wolf.” “Exactly! When we turn twelve, we hear our wolves, but she’s never heard hers. They say she’s cursed,” I replied, frustration bubbling. “No one wants a cursed mate.” “So why not just go for Ella?” Mathew suggested, raising an eyebrow. “She’s easier to be with.” “Ella? Please. She’s not half as captivating as Alice,” I shot back. “But yeah, I’m with Ella. It’s simpler.” “Right, but you’re still pining after Alice,” Mathew pointed out. “You want her as your mistress, not your Luna.” “I can’t help it!” Alice’s pov My father’s choice for an arranged marriage must have been carefully selected, and honestly, that was fine by me. My phone buzzed. “Alice, why haven’t you liked my latest post?” Ella’s message popped up. She was in a lavish princess dress, flanked by Mathew and Alpha Mike. “Look at me, the perfect princess,” I muttered under my breath. I knew she posted it to annoy me. Normally, I might feel upset, but not today. I quickly tapped the like button. “There, happy now?” As for what the three of them thought? That was no longer my concern.

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“Jack, I’m taking Emmy downstairs for a bit!” Standing by the door with Emily in her stroller, I took one last look back at Jack, sprawled on the couch watching the game, and silently said goodbye to him in my heart: Rest in peace, Jack. Returning to work after maternity leave, I couldn’t wait to see my baby girl. I gave my manager a quick heads-up and left early to head home. As I approached our front door, voices drifted out from inside. “Don’t worry. She won’t be back for at least another two hours.” That voice belonged to my husband, Jack Hale. “Right. Says the guy who ignored me for half an hour last night to rock his little princess to sleep,” a woman’s voice teased. My mind went blank as I heard Jack soothingly reply, “Once she’s gone, Emily will be your daughter, too. She’s a baby; she won’t know the difference. After all, if you’ve got milk, you’re the mom.” Then, I heard sounds that left no room for doubt. Frozen in place, the devastating truth settled over me. Jack was cheating on me. We’d known each other since high school, growing together from prom to wedding vows. After three years of marriage, our lives had settled into a routine. Jack quit his big tech job earlier this year to open Jack’s Hardware, aiming to help with Emmy after she was born and spare me from solo parenting. I’d cried at his thoughtfulness, and the shop had done well enough that he hired a part-time employee. He’d been a doting partner through my entire recovery. Just last night, we’d been planning our move to the new house we’d remodeled, where the paint fumes had finally aired out. But now, under the searing late-afternoon August sun, reality struck me harder than anything before. Standing outside, I waited until I saw a tall woman with wavy hair strut out of the building. I ducked behind a car, catching my reflection in its window, noting how pregnancy had altered my once-trim figure. I’d always taken pride in my looks. Jack had always said that whether we had a boy or a girl, he just wanted a child of his own. I’d endured countless shots to keep our baby healthy, ultimately blessed with Emmy. At nearly six, I entered our apartment with groceries in hand. Hearing the door, Jack padded out in his slippers. “Hey, hon! I made some iced green bean soup—it’s in the fridge if you want a bowl.” “Sure, I’ll take one.” As I switched my shoes, his words from earlier echoed in my mind: Once she’s gone. Jack wanted me dead. And not only had he cheated, but he was planning to kill me. Somehow, though, my shock turned to an eerie calmness. Over dinner, Jack mentioned his mom wanting to come help with Emmy since I was back at work, and he was juggling the store and caring for her. I thought for a moment, then replied, “There’s only one bed here. When your mom comes, there won’t be space. How about we just move into the new house now?” But Jack hesitated, “I’ll take the couch. It’s summer; I’ll be fine there. You two can use the bed.” I nodded, “Sure, it’ll be nice to have her help.” I’d always found it odd how Jack had been so reluctant to move into the new house, even though it was ready ages ago. Turns out, he’d been planning to get rid of me and move in with her. After Emmy was asleep, Jack handed me an insurance form to sign. He’d mentioned getting life insurance back when I was pregnant, saying we needed to think about Emmy’s future and that this would protect her in case anything happened. So, we both got policies listing Emily as the sole beneficiary. “All right, so if I die in an accident, it’s a million?” I tightened my fingers around the paper. Right then, Carol Wilson, our neighbor, popped by with a few peaches. “A friend of ours brought over a whole box. Too much for us, so we thought of you!” She glanced at the insurance paperwork on the coffee table. “What are you two up to?” “Oh, I’m just talking with Megan about getting a policy,” Jack said smoothly. “Aunt Carol, does it really pay out a million?” I said, feigning innocence. “Jack’s looked at a bunch of policies and keeps bugging me to sign it before prices go up.” Carol’s interest piqued. “Honey, insurance is a pain to pay, but it sure comes in handy when you need it. Just last year, my husband’s cancer was covered under his policy, and we got thirty grand from it.” Jack shot me a look that said, See? “I don’t know much about insurance, but Jack says it’ll give us peace of mind,” I shrugged. “But maybe I’ll study up on it first.” Carol nodded approvingly, “You’re right to think it through. Accident insurance isn’t like health insurance. You’re far more likely to get sick in your life than to get in an accident.” She didn’t notice Jack’s face freeze for a moment as she said it. “Insurance is just a safety net. You never know what might happen tomorrow,” Jack joked, glancing at me. “If I die, at least I’d leave you and Emmy a little something.” I punched his shoulder, “Quit saying stuff like that.” “Don’t tempt fate, Jack!” Carol said, waving us off with a chuckle as she left. That night, I headed to the bathroom. There was a faint humming noise coming from the water heater. Our building was old, built in the early 2000s, and all the units used electric water heaters. Ours was secondhand, bought from the last tenants, and I’d wanted to replace it last year, but we’d planned to move, so we let it be. Holding my toothbrush, I stared thoughtfully at the worn appliance. Back in bed, Jack was scrolling on his phone. When I walked over, he quickly set it face down. On the nightstand, a baby monitor showed Emmy’s crib. “Jack, you really want that insurance?” I asked, raising my voice a bit. Jack rolled over, “It’s a solid policy. I’m telling you…” He launched into a long list of benefits. I yawned, agreeing casually, “All right, sure. Too late now, though. Tomorrow, then.” “Great!” In the dim light, I caught the gleam of excitement in his eyes. The next morning, I headed downstairs for work. Jack hurried out, waving the insurance form, and caught me as I was about to leave. Right then, Carol and some other neighbors walked by, bags of groceries in hand. “What’s the rush, Jack?” Carol asked, eyeing the form in his hand. “Oh, it’s that insurance from last night. He just wants me to sign it,” I said, signing my name with a smile. “Can’t help it; he calls the shots around here. Gotta run—almost late!” Riding away on my e-bike, I caught sight of Jack in my mirror, holding the paper with a grin, even giving it a celebratory kiss. At work, I texted him: Jack, the water heater at home seems off. Can you check it? Ten minutes later, he replied: Sure, babe. Got it. His careless response was exactly as expected. He was probably daydreaming about his life after a million-dollar payout with his new woman, far too busy to worry about an eight-year-old water heater. What causes a water heater to explode? I typed into the search bar, read through the results, and then cleared my history.

At 5:30, Julie, the new intern, noticed I hadn’t budged. “Megan, aren’t you in a rush to get home and see Emmy?” “Oh, Jack’s with her,” I replied, showing the baby monitor app on my phone, where Jack was entertaining Emmy. “I figured I’d stay late and finish up my report.” Julie gave me a wistful smile. “Must be nice! One day, I’m finding a guy who’ll pull his weight with the baby, too!” I just smiled back. Starting today, I wanted everyone to know that Jack and I were the picture of domestic bliss. After wrapping up, I was about to leave when Greg Summers from IT walked over. “Hey, just a heads up—don’t use company computers for personal stuff right now.” “What’s going on?” I asked. “With last quarter’s slump, leadership’s monitoring web use more than usual, like to see if people are shopping or browsing news sites…” Greg trailed off, then asked, “By the way, what’s up with your water heater? Saw you searching about it.” My pulse raced, but I kept calm. Why should I be anxious? It was completely reasonable to check out potential safety issues with an old appliance. “Oh, I saw this video about a heater exploding, and it freaked me out a bit,” I replied casually. Greg nodded. “I think they say to replace them every eight years or so.” His phone buzzed, and he walked away. My fingers shook as I gathered my things to leave. By the time I got home, it was almost eight. Jack was taking photos of Emmy on the couch. When he noticed me, he quickly looked away, seeming almost flustered. “Is that new?” I pointed at the outfit Emmy was wearing. “Yeah, it arrived today,” he set the camera down. “Hungry? Let’s go grab some noodles from that place downstairs.” “When’d you get a new camera? You didn’t mention it.” I reached over to pick it up, flipping through the photos. The quality was so professional; Jack had clearly gotten good at composition. Jack hesitated, “Well, I didn’t want you to think I was wasting money… I wanted to capture Emmy’s moments, you know?” “You could’ve asked me instead of hiding it,” I said, continuing to look through the photos. Jack snatched the camera from my hands. “Hon, you’ve been working all day; don’t get worked up over a small thing. Let me make it up to you. Here, strike a pose for me!” Then, Emmy started fussing. I quickly scooped her up. “Could you take out the trash? And grab us two noodle bowls on your way back?” “Sure.” Jack reached for his phone. “Leave it charging,” I said, pulling out some cash. “Here, just use this.” He shrugged, took the money, and grabbed the trash. The moment he was out of sight, I unlocked his phone—password, Emmy’s birth date, worked on the first try. I’d never felt the need to check his phone before, but now, there was no hesitation. He’d been so sure I’d never intrude on his privacy. One contact caught my eye: “AAA Style Master Linda Cross.” Her latest message read: Hiking’s the easiest way to create a happy little ‘accident.’ There’s no… The rest was hidden, and since Jack hadn’t opened it, I couldn’t read further. But I didn’t need to; the picture was clear enough. With the policy signed, they’d locked and loaded. I placed his phone back and resumed scrolling through the camera, finding photos of Emmy bundled in thick baby blankets. The focus wasn’t even on her, but rather the details of the clothing. Given the summer heat, Emmy’s hair was damp with sweat. When Jack returned, I confronted him, “Why wrap her up like this? It’s over 90 degrees out—she’ll overheat!” He froze, trying to recover, “They’re sending us another one for free if I post a picture with this one.” “So you’d risk her comfort for a cheap promo?” Jack’s anger flared, “She’s my daughter! You think I’d hurt her?” “Relax. I didn’t say that.” I pressed, raising my voice. Jack knocked the camera to the ground, slamming the door behind him. When he finally returned around midnight, he hugged me from behind, whispering, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.” I said nothing. He softened, adding, “How about a weekend hiking trip, just the two of us? Mom can watch Emmy. It’s been forever since we had time alone.” There it was: that sickening sweetness, like when we first started dating. Even after years of building a life together, you can never fully know the person lying beside you. “Camping? But I thought you hated hiking?” I asked. “That was back then,” he chuckled, “But now we’re our own bosses with flexible schedules. Hiking’s a good way to stay fit.” “Which trail?” I tested. “Stonehill Ridge,” he said. “I read it’s less crowded, got beautiful old scenery, and is far from the city. They say the air there is amazing.” I nodded, “You really did your homework.” “Of course. I have to make it up to you.” He pulled me close. “We could get a tent and camp under the stars, just like college.” I pushed him back, “Fine. But if we go, it’ll be once your mom’s settled with Emmy.” He brightened, “Done!” The stronger he pressed, the firmer my resolve became. Around 2 a.m., I finished feeding Emmy and went to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, the water heater emitted its usual hum, old and worn. If its temperature controls, overheating protection, and pressure release valves were all damaged, well… anything could happen. I placed a hand under the hot stream, deep in thought.

Jack’s mom arrived a few days later, laden with bags and a crate of fresh eggs. “Well, well, standing there like a bump on a log,” she teased me, nudging Jack with a laugh. “For a new mom, you sure don’t know how to keep busy.” I took her bag, smiling. “Thanks for coming, Marge. You must be tired from the trip.” “Oh, don’t you worry about me,” she said, settling onto the couch with a grin that looked friendly enough but masked a pointed edge. She’d never quite approved of me, probably thinking Jack’s previous tech job could’ve won him a wife with “better” credentials. Jack handed her a cup of water, “Mom, Megan and I are planning a hiking trip this weekend. Think you could look after Emmy for a couple of days?” She muttered, “Yeah, sure, sure. Sounds miserable in this heat, but knock yourselves out.” Later that night, Jack insisted on picking up camping gear, practically glowing with excitement. “We’re just three days away!” he beamed. “Since you got pregnant, we haven’t been out together. You as excited as I am?” “Oh, I…” Just yesterday, I’d set the water heater to fifty degrees, only to find the water scalding when I used it. Its temperature controls must’ve completely failed. “Yeah, I’m really looking forward to it,” I replied. When we returned, Marge had already put Emmy to bed. The next morning, Jack left for the shop, and I dressed Emmy for the day before heading out. Marge, holding Emmy, grumbled about the baby monitor. “Staring at us all night, I couldn’t sleep with that thing on.” She set it on the shelf behind the TV. “Waste of money.” “Sure.” I said, as the doorbell rang. The appliance repairman I’d called had arrived. “Mr. Turner, right?” I stepped aside to let him in and led him to the bathroom. “Our water heater’s been making odd noises, and the temperature’s unpredictable. Could you check it?” He inspected it, knocking on the casing, “How long you had it?” “About eight years.” “Thing’s on its last legs. You’d be better off with a new one. That pressure relief valve’s not working either. This old heater could go anytime.” I feigned shock. “It’s worth maybe a hundred bucks,” he added. “If you decide to sell it, call me.” As he left, I suggested to Marge, “Maybe we should just get rid of it.” “He’s scamming you,” she scoffed. “That heater’s working fine; why bother?” “Let’s just unplug it when it’s not in use, then.” I put on my shoes, ready to head out for work. “Fancy-pants, aren’t we? You make three grand a month and act like royalty,” she sneered. I said nothing, pulling on my sun hat as I left. After work, I realized it had started raining, and I’d forgotten my umbrella. Slick pavement made riding my e-bike treacherous, but I gripped the handlebars tightly, squinting through the rain. Then, out of nowhere, a van careened toward me, and I froze. In those seconds, I felt nothing but terror—and a gnawing bitterness. Why did fate seem to favor Jack? The van stopped just in time, but in my panic, I swerved, crashing onto the sidewalk. Pain shot through my hip, and my knee scraped against the rough pavement. My arms were bloodied and caked with dirt. Bystanders helped me up as the van driver apologized profusely. When I finally got home, Marge was shelling beans, while Jack was scrolling through his phone. He sprang up when he saw my disheveled state. “What happened? Are you okay?” I shook my head. Seemingly relieved, Jack asked, “It’s not too bad, right? This won’t stop us from hiking this weekend?” I stared at him. “What do you think? I can barely walk.” My dear husband’s primary concern wasn’t my well-being; it was whether his plan would still work. As Marge cringed at my scraped knee, Jack stared blankly, as though he’d suffered a blow. I stepped into the bathroom, skipping the shower in favor of a basin of cold water. As I washed my knee, I glanced at the water heater. Bathing would be out of the question until I healed. At dinner, Jack was oddly quiet, lost in thought. Marge handed him a slice of omelet. “What’s on your mind?” “Babe, maybe I should take you to the hospital tomorrow, make sure you didn’t break anything,” Jack said, glancing at me. “Wouldn’t want to miss out on the weekend.” “Yes, that would be good,” I replied. The next day, Jack took me to get my wounds dressed. The doctor warned against letting the injuries get wet. Once back at work, I opened the baby monitor app, expecting to check on Emmy, only to find the screen filled with Jack and that woman, sprawled on my living room couch. They were all over each other, like animals incapable of self-control. Watching Jack with another woman, I felt nothing. But my gaze drifted to Emmy in her stroller nearby, tiny legs kicking in the air, oblivious to the scene around her. The sight made me feel sick. “Oh, there’s something about your place that really gets me going,” the woman purred. Jack, cigarette in hand, replied, “You’re the only one who makes me feel alive. Megan’s a mess now; her body’s wrecked. One look, and I’m done.” “Your daughter’s crying.” “Let her cry. Girls are a hassle, anyway. Just raising her for someone else. So, when are you giving me a son?” “When you get rid of her. Simple as that.” “Last night, I almost smothered her with a pillow,” Jack hissed through gritted teeth. “Can’t believe she didn’t die in that accident.” The screen cut to three loud knocks on the door.

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My son is a “child genius.” My overconfident husband loves to brag, always boasting that our son inherited his brilliant genes. One day at dinner, my son suddenly started speaking German to his dad. He said, “Mom ist zu dumm, ich hasse sie” (Mom is too dumb, I hate her). My husband casually replied, “Ihre einzige Funktion ist es, uns zu dienen, zum Glück haben Sie nicht ihre minderwertigen Gene geerbt” (Her only purpose is to serve us. Luckily, you didn’t inherit her inferior genes). I put down my utensils and watched as father and son exchanged sneaky glances and smiles. At that moment, I felt utterly exhausted. 01 I stood up with my bowl in hand, walked into the kitchen, washed the dishes, and placed them in the dishwasher. The sound of the dishwasher humming couldn’t drown out the conversation still going on between father and son at the dining table. I dried my hands and walked past them, heading to the bedroom. Neither of them bothered to spare me a glance. In the past, I would have cheerfully asked, “What are you guys talking about?” Even though I’d always be brushed off impatiently, I kept trying to join in. But now, I no longer felt the need. Whatever they talked about, discussed, or argued about—it was their business. Not mine. I pulled out my old suitcase from the back of the closet. It looked worn, but it was still sturdy. I didn’t have many clothes. Ever since Aaron was born, I stopped caring about how I looked. I started buying clothes online, cheap and disposable. Looking at what I had now, the only decent clothes were the ones I bought before we got married. 02 Just as I finished packing, Spencer walked in. He looked at the suitcase on the floor, his brow furrowing. “What are you doing with that old thing?” I didn’t respond. I just kept zipping up the suitcase. He shrugged, uninterested, grabbed his charging cable from the nightstand, and said, “Go clean the dining table. Aaron and I are going to play Monopoly later.” I said nothing, and he walked out of the room. The door clicked shut at the same time my suitcase zipper snapped into place. Those two sounds intertwined, and I felt a sudden clarity in my heart. I pulled out an old trench coat, the one I had bought the year I graduated and started working. I remembered my mom saying, “Now that you’re working, you need something decent to wear,” and she took me to a department store, where we spent $500 on that brand-name coat. When Spencer found out, he insisted I return it, grumbling that $500 could cover two months of our expenses. I refused. We had a big fight, and my mom ended up giving him $450 to calm him down. But after we got married, I never wore the coat again. Pregnancy had changed my body, and once Aaron was born, I was too busy taking care of him. The coat just stayed in the closet, gathering dust. 03 The suitcase wheels scraped across the hardwood floor, making a loud, dragging sound. Aaron, who was sitting on the couch watching TV, glanced at me, then quickly returned his attention to the screen. Spencer was sprawled out on the couch, phone in hand, a smug smile on his face. He heard the noise too and looked up at me, his brow furrowing tightly. “Where are you going?” I took a deep breath, not even able to respond before he continued. “I told you to clean the dining table! Aaron and I are going to play Monopoly!” I swallowed the words stuck in my throat, using all my strength not to slam the suitcase into his face. “Clean it yourself. I’m moving out.” Finally, Spencer looked at me properly. He sat up, eyebrows knitted as he watched me change my shoes. “What do you mean?” I stood up straight and looked at Aaron, still glued to the TV, rubbing his tired eyes. Aaron’s eyesight had been deteriorating, and I’d already scheduled an appointment for him next Saturday to see Dr. Grayson at Denver Eye Center. I pulled out my phone and sent Spencer the appointment details. “Don’t forget to take him to the eye doctor next Saturday,” I said, pulling my suitcase behind me as I walked out the door. 04 Spencer caught up to me as the elevator was still ascending. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” he muttered angrily, trying to grab my suitcase. I tightened my grip and dodged his hand. “There’s nothing wrong with me, Spencer. “Did you forget?” I looked at this balding man in front of me and couldn’t help but smirk. “If it weren’t for accidentally getting pregnant with Aaron, I was supposed to go to MIT on a scholarship.” Spencer’s eyes widened as if he’d finally remembered the time he and Aaron humiliated me, assuming I couldn’t understand German. He sighed, folding his arms across his chest, showing not a hint of remorse. “Oh, right. I forgot you spoke German. You’re not seriously mad about that, are you? “I’ll apologize, for me and Aaron. Does that work for you?” The elevator reached the seventh floor. As I watched the numbers climb on the display, I felt an unprecedented calm wash over me. “It’s not just about that,” I said, glancing back at him. “I’m done living like this. “Spencer, I want a divorce. Aaron stays with you.” The elevator doors opened to Spencer’s furious shouts. I stepped inside and quickly pressed the button to close the door. The last thing I saw was Spencer yelling for me to get out of his house before storming back inside. 05 I spent half the night at the airport, catching the first flight back to my parents’ house. When I told them I was getting a divorce, they stayed quiet for a long time. Finally, my dad shook his newspaper and asked, “Have you had breakfast yet?” I shook my head, tears spilling onto my jeans, leaving dark spots. My mom wiped my tears, smiling gently. “Let your dad make you some noodles, your favorite.” My dad had already put down his paper and was slowly shuffling into the kitchen. After breakfast, I pushed my suitcase into the bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Sleep came quickly, and as I drifted off, memories flooded my mind. While other babies were still babbling, Aaron had already memorized passages of American Classic Literature. At first, Spencer and I didn’t think much of it, assuming Aaron was just a smart kid. But when Aaron was three and in preschool, the teacher visited us just two weeks into the term, marveling at how he was a “child genius.” Apparently, Aaron had memorized the Code of Conduct for Young Americans in just ten minutes. Spencer was over the moon. After endless tests, he was convinced that Aaron was, indeed, a genius. And he—the self-proclaimed “genius father.” Spencer, who had never cared about raising Aaron, suddenly quit his job without even consulting me and used all our savings to support Aaron’s education. Aaron didn’t disappoint. By the age of five, he had mastered all elementary school subjects and was accepted into Aspen Ridge Prep Academy ahead of time. The media couldn’t get enough of our “American wunderkind.” The Crane family celebrated like royalty, even adding a special page for Aaron in the family tree records. But I knew deep down this wasn’t right. I worried that Aaron’s success wouldn’t last forever. He was only a little ahead of the others, and once the spotlight faded, he might fall harder than anyone else. 06 I was woken up by Janice Crane’s phone call. “Nina!” Janice always thought shouting over the phone made her more likely to be heard, so every call sounded like she was yelling into a megaphone. “You’re way too old to be playing divorce games! Aren’t you afraid people will laugh at you?” I rolled my eyes and muttered, “I’m not playing around, Janice. I’m serious about the divorce.” She let out a loud laugh, clearly not taking me seriously. “Do whatever you want. The moment you leave, my son will just hire a nanny. You’re useless anyway. Go on, and don’t come crawling back!” I hung up immediately. In their eyes, I had never been more than a glorified nanny. No, not even that—at least a nanny gets paid. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, I took a few deep breaths before picking up my phone and dialing my high school friend, Gabriel Dawson. “It’s been ages, Nina,” Gabriel said when he answered, congratulating me right away. “I read that article about you. You’re officially the mother of a genius now, huh? Congrats!” I gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t tease me. It’s all just media hype. By the way, I heard you started your own law firm. Interested in taking on my divorce case?” Gabriel was stunned, asking several times, “A divorce? You?” I firmly replied, “Yes, I want a divorce.” After hanging up, I lay back on the bed, feeling a sense of relief for the first time in a long while. No more endless laundry, no more scrubbing floors, and no more catering to a pair of men who couldn’t care less about me. 07 Aaron used Spencer’s phone to call me, asking where his shirt was. I decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Aaron, do you know why I left?” He was cold. “No. Where’s my shirt?” I sighed. “I understand German, Aaron. I understood everything you and your dad said at the dinner table.” There was silence for a moment before Aaron responded. “You can speak German? Wo ist mein Hemd (Where’s my shirt)?” My chest felt tight. I couldn’t hold back my frustration any longer. “Aaron, don’t you feel even a little guilty for humiliating me like that?” His voice, still childishly high-pitched, sounded like ice shards. “In our house, only people with high intelligence get to speak. Your education isn’t good enough to earn any respect. Now, I’ll ask one more time—where’s my shirt?” I hung up. As expected, Aaron had no concept of manners. I had tried teaching him, reasoning with him, even pretending I’d punish him, but he just wasn’t interested in learning those values. Spencer had told Aaron that rules only bend for the talented. And Aaron believed it wholeheartedly. 08 After pulling myself together, I headed straight to Gabriel Dawson’s law firm. Gabriel had changed a lot—especially his waistline. He rubbed his nose awkwardly and laughed. “Long time no see, Nina. You haven’t changed at all.” I chuckled. “You’re still as smooth as ever.” We went over the divorce agreement, and Gabriel asked me repeatedly, “Are you sure you don’t want to fight for custody? And don’t you think you’re asking for too little?” “This is fine,” I said, taking a sip of water, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to get into a long, drawn-out battle with Spencer. This is something he’ll agree to.” Gabriel scratched his head, still confused. “Nina, are you sure you’re not rushing into this? You two don’t have any major marital issues, no financial problems, and sure, there’s some tension with his mother, but nothing that can’t be fixed. Plus, Aaron is… well, a genius.” “My marriage was a mistake from the start,” I replied with a soft smile, finally feeling the weight lift off my shoulders. “It just took me too long to realize it.” I should’ve seen it the moment Spencer secretly replaced my birth control pills and I ended up pregnant by accident. Instead, it took all these years—and raising our son—to finally understand. 09 When Spencer received the divorce papers, he couldn’t stay calm anymore. “Nina, have you lost your mind?” he yelled over the phone, furious. “In two days, it’s Aaron’s College Admissions Celebration! There are going to be media outlets and TV stations all over the place! Now you’re going to drop a divorce bomb? I still have my reputation to think about!” Aaron had been accepted into Aspen Ridge Prep Academy, and Spencer had gone all out, planning a huge gala, inviting the press and even some local officials. This celebration was his crown jewel. Ignoring his rant, I replied calmly, “Spencer, I’m divorcing you. You can hold your party. They’re separate things.” Spencer snapped, “I thought we agreed—you’re supposed to attend the party with us!” “Why would I do that?” I asked. He fell silent, so I continued, “To play the role of a lucky housewife with a simple college degree, who somehow gave birth to a ‘genius’?” Spencer gritted his teeth. “You’ve been snooping through my phone?” Honestly, stumbling upon his plan was pure coincidence—I wasn’t in the habit of checking his phone. But when I saw the draft of the “media plan,” it hit me hard. When I got pregnant during my grad school applications, I didn’t want the baby at first. But Spencer had cried, begged me to keep it, claiming his low sperm count meant this was a miracle—a blessing from above. I caved. So, with a degree in one hand and a marriage license in the other, I gave birth to Aaron that winter. When Aaron turned one, a drunken Spencer let it slip: he’d secretly switched out my birth control pills on purpose.

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I thought I would love him forever… if only I hadn’t heard those words. On the second day of giving Thomas the silent treatment, I decided to go to his place to make up. As soon as the door opened, I heard a familiar female voice: “What? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her?” “Don’t forget, you were the one who said you wanted to get revenge for me!” That voice… it once plunged me into hell. As evening fell, I hurried towards the elevator, clutching a box of fresh cake. This was the second day of my silent treatment with Thomas, which also happened to be his birthday. I had finally found an excuse to rush over to his place with a cake. Usually, I had to let Thomas know before going to his place. Otherwise, he’d accuse me of messing with his things. Even though that one time, I hadn’t touched anything, just sat on the sofa waiting for him. But this time was an exception. It was a surprise. Surely he wouldn’t be angry… The elevator finally arrived. I nervously picked up the cake and walked towards Thomas’s door. Suddenly, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve actually fallen for her?” “Don’t forget, you were the one who said you wanted to get revenge for me!” Hearing this voice, I felt as if I’d been plunged into an icy abyss. How did Thomas know her?! Before I could even think of an excuse for him, his urgent voice came through: “Don’t be angry. How could I possibly like her?” “I’m just playing with her, how could you take it seriously!” “Don’t worry, I’ve already proposed to her. Soon she’ll be at your mercy!” … Every word felt like a knife to my heart! I don’t know how long it took, but Thomas finally managed to placate Mia. Her final words were, “Well, I want to be there when you two get engaged. I want her parents to know what a shameless homewrecker their daughter is!” Thomas reassured her, “Of course you’ll be there. You have to witness the moment of victory!” My boyfriend was planning to use our engagement party as a tool to please another woman… I tugged at the corners of my mouth, unable to even muster a bitter smile. I stood there stupidly at the door, masochistically listening to them belittle me until my legs went numb, and they still weren’t done. Finally, Mia said she had to leave. Only then did I come to my senses and frantically ran towards the stairwell. I crouched by the stairwell door, peeking through the small gap to watch Thomas fawning over Mia. My heart felt as if it had been slashed by a knife, the pain piercing to my very core! After seeing Mia off, Thomas’s face immediately darkened. I saw him pick up his phone, messaging someone while muttering, “Getting too big for her boots…” When I picked up my phone, I realized that his gloomy face had been directed at me. He said, “It’s my birthday today, did you forget?” “Who are you having dinner with again?! Even I, as a director, am not as busy as you!” “Let me tell you, if you’re not here by 8 PM, we’re breaking up!” … This overconfident attitude was something I had indulged over many days. Although Thomas was two years older than me, he often acted childishly in our relationship. It was all due to being spoiled by his family, and I was happy to indulge him too. But now… I laughed bitterly. So this is what it feels like to reap what you sow… I looked at the cake in my hand, suddenly feeling as if it weighed a thousand pounds, too heavy for me to lift. I left that cake in the stairwell, along with the ring Thomas had given me. The first time I met Mia was at my previous company. At that time, my boss Lucas was explaining to me how to improve a project proposal. Inadvertently, our shoulders brushed against each other as he leaned over to look at the computer screen. To an outsider, it might have looked intimate. But in reality, we didn’t have much physical contact, so neither of us thought anything of it and continued our discussion. However, someone with too much time on their hands took a photo of this moment and sent it to Mia. The next day at work, as soon as I sat down at my desk, Mia, who had been waiting for a long time, rushed up to me like a madwoman and slapped me across the face. “You bitch! How dare you seduce my husband!” I was stunned by her slap, aware of nothing but the intense pain on my face… Mia was about to strike again, but luckily Lucas grabbed her hand. “What are you doing here?!” Mia, gritting her teeth, pointed at me and shouted at Lucas, “Because of this slut, you’re yelling at me?! Are you really protecting this homewrecker?!” Lucas had no idea what she was talking about. He could only desperately block her, shielding me from Mia’s frenzied attacks. Afterwards, Lucas publicly apologized to me and dealt with the person who took the photo. But from that moment on, Mia had her sights set on me. I don’t know if she suffered from paranoid delusions, but every time I showed up at the company, she would stand at the company entrance, staring at me intently, as if afraid I would have any intimate interaction with Lucas. Her behavior drove me to the brink of a nervous breakdown, so I voluntarily resigned. On the day I left, packing up my things, Mia snorted coldly and finally moved away from the company entrance. The new job I found was at Thomas’s company. I remember that day when he asked me why I left my previous job. I calmly gave him a rehearsed answer. At the time, he looked at me with a meaningful gaze. I thought he found my answer too perfunctory. Looking back now, I realize all the signs were there from the beginning. I returned home like a walking corpse. As soon as I got home, Thomas called. I stared at the vibrating phone, a glimmer of hope in my heart. Maybe he had seen the cake? Maybe he was calling to explain… I made excuses for him, answering the phone with a hint of expectation, only to be met with Thomas’s sarcastic tone: “Oh, so you’re finally free to answer the phone! Who are you having dinner with this time?” I was stunned by his mocking tone, taking a while to remember the “guy” he was referring to. Previously, a long-term client of the company had invited me to dinner. I thought it was to discuss a contract, but it turned out he wanted to confess his feelings for me. Although I had always claimed I wasn’t single, no one at the company had ever seen my boyfriend. They probably thought it was just an excuse I used to avoid dating. Someone must have told him. I awkwardly watched him smiling and holding out flowers, wracking my brain for a polite way to reject him, not noticing that Thomas was sitting behind me at the time. He mistook my momentary silence for interest, so he immediately bought a ring to tie me down. At the time, he leaned on the sofa, roughly slipping the ring onto my finger, arrogantly saying, “Now they’ll have to believe you!” Although I didn’t want to get engaged so early, seeing how much he cared about me, I could only happily accept. The ring he bought was that season’s new design. After that, anyone with any sense never bothered me again. However, what came with it was my team leader frequently hinting at me, asking if I was getting married. I knew what she meant – she was afraid I would start taking time off work. Every time, I would exhaustively explain, afraid of being misunderstood. But Thomas became unhappy, thinking I didn’t love him, and started giving me the silent treatment. At the time, I lamented that although he was two years older than me, he was still so childish in our relationship. But now, I couldn’t help but think, it wasn’t that he couldn’t see my difficulties, he just didn’t care. He was simply trying to trip me up… I suddenly thought, did he buy me the ring because he was afraid I’d run away, afraid he couldn’t get revenge for Mia… On the other end of the phone, Thomas was still waiting for my response. Even though I had already sentenced him to death in my mind, I still wanted to get to the truth. “Thomas, do you love me?” There was a moment of silence on the other end, followed by a nonchalant tone, “Of course I love you, why else would I be with you?” “Then what about Mia? Do you love her?” His breathing on the other end became erratic. In an instant, my heart turned cold. “The ring is in the stairwell of your building. Let’s break up.”

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The CEO wants to take my kidney for his first love. I was drugged and sent to a private hospital, but little did he know, the surgeon was my own brother. I begged the CEO to leave with me quickly, but he refused. What he didn’t know was that once he stepped into this hospital, he would never leave alive. Because my brother is a serial killer, my mother is a professional at dismembering bodies, and my father is a sociopath. And I am the family’s precious darling. “I won’t sign this contract.” I looked up at Lucas Sterling, pushing back the document that would require me to sell my kidney. “It’s okay, Lucas. Don’t force Aria. As long as you’re with me in my final days, that’s enough,” Sophia, sitting next to Lucas, spoke softly. I stared at them, trying to control my emotions despite telling myself not to care about them anymore. To an outsider, they might look like a couple. In reality, I was Lucas’s girlfriend of two years. Seeing Sophia’s understanding attitude, Lucas’s gaze towards me grew even more disdainful. “Aria, I’ve already promised you that once you donate a kidney to Sophia, you can marry into the Sterling family. You won’t have to work, and you’ll have everything you need. It’ll be a hundred times better than your current life!” His tone made it sound like I was the one begging him to marry me. But two years ago, he had promised that I would be the future Mrs. Sterling. I sighed and stood up to leave, but Lucas grabbed my hand. The warmth of his touch made me feel momentarily disoriented. How long had it been since he last held my hand? Lucas’s face showed a hint of anger. “Aria, I’ve never lost my temper with you before. Don’t push me.” After a pause, as if realizing he had spoken too harshly, he added, “Be a good person, Aria.” A good person? Does being good mean handing over my kidney without question? To a homewrecker? Not wanting to look at the two of them any longer, I shook off his hand and walked out of the room. “Forget it, Lucas. Let’s break up.” “Lucas, it’s okay. Maybe Miss Reed doesn’t like me and feels I’m interfering with your relationship…” I heard Sophia’s sobs and Lucas’s angry voice behind me: “Aria, don’t regret this!” Back in my rented apartment, I lay down on the bed. Two years ago, I had come to this city alone. My first job was at a company owned by the Sterling family. As a newcomer, I was often assigned difficult tasks, which meant frequent overtime. Lucas, as the newly appointed CEO, was also working late to familiarize himself with the business. That’s how we met. He said there was a light in my eyes that kept him going whenever he felt tired. Later, he confessed his feelings, and we started dating secretly. Since that day when I suggested breaking up with Lucas, he never came to find me. I thought he had given up, so I felt relieved. But I had underestimated his love for Sophia. I was sleeping in my own small bed, but when I woke up again, I found myself lying in a hospital bed in a private clinic. My phone had been taken away. Lucas placed a meal in front of me and said coldly, “Eat more and get some sleep these few days. If anything happens to your kidney, don’t blame me for being harsh!” After Lucas left, I slowly ate the food in the box. There’s no point in fighting against your own body. Besides, eating more would give me strength to escape. After finishing the meal, in the afternoon, I started to plan my escape route. I saw a map of the entire hospital in the corridor. The main entrance was definitely not an option; Lucas might have instructed the reception nurses. My only choice was the back door. As night fell, I slipped out of the ward and made my way to the back door. I couldn’t open it, but I could climb over the wall. Just as I was about to leave, I heard faint cries for help that caught my attention. Without much thought, my first instinct was to help. I ran towards the source of the sound without hesitation. What I saw was a man with his hands and feet bound, all ten fingers cut off. I stood there, momentarily stunned. This method of torture was all too familiar to me. Lost in thought, I didn’t notice the man’s terrified gaze behind me. The next moment, a gentle yet cold voice sounded behind me: “Peeking at someone else’s murder isn’t what good girls do, you know.” As he walked past me, the familiar face in the moonlight triggered my horrifying memories. I felt as if someone was choking me; I couldn’t speak. He walked up to the man and swiftly stabbed him. The man fell to the ground, no longer breathing. At the same time, I heard someone calling my name from a distance. “Aria! Aria!” “You’d better not let me catch you, or you’re done for!” Hearing Lucas’s voice at this moment made me want to laugh. How much did Lucas care about Sophia to come to the hospital himself so late at night to look for me? A flashlight beam shone over, and a security guard shouted, “Miss Reed is here!” The person behind me discreetly blocked the corpse, and then Lucas immediately ran over. His action of hiding the body was completely unnecessary. The night was dark, he was standing behind a tree, and it wasn’t easy to see. Plus, Lucas only had eyes for me at that moment and paid no attention to anyone else. He grabbed my hand without a word, the huge force making my wrist hurt. “Aria, you’re getting more and more disobedient. Is it so hard to donate a kidney? It’s not like I’m asking for your life!” he yelled at me. “Sophia only has six months to live. She’s so gentle and kind, how can you bear not to save her?” Saying this, he dragged me back to the ward. Before leaving, I looked back one last time. In the moonlight, the man stood there with a cold expression, his gloomy gaze fixed on Lucas. I couldn’t help but shudder. Back in the ward, taking advantage of the fact that we were alone, I frantically said to Lucas, “Let’s leave this place, it’s dangerous!” Lucas disgustedly pushed me away, and I hit the hospital bed. “Aria, I’m warning you, don’t try these useless tricks. Do you think I’d believe your nonsense?” “If you try to escape again, don’t blame me for breaking your legs!” I stared blankly at the man before me. Judging from his expression, he was serious. But just a month ago, he was holding my hand, planning how to celebrate our two-year anniversary. Why could a person change so dramatically in just one month? Just then, Sophia walked in gracefully, dressed in white. As soon as she saw me, her eyes turned red. “Miss Reed, it’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, Lucas wouldn’t be angry with you. Does it hurt?” She came forward, her hand stroking my forehead, but out of Lucas’s sight, she pressed down hard. I cried out in pain and pushed her away at the same time. “Ah!” She screamed even louder than me. Lucas immediately bent down anxiously to help her up, then glared at me angrily. “Aria, I really misjudged you before. You’re too vicious! How could I have been with a woman like you!” With that, he picked up Sophia and carried her out of the ward. Before leaving, he looked back at me coldly. “Aria, if you behave and donate your kidney to Sophia, I’ll forgive you.” “Otherwise, you know what will happen.” Sophia’s health had been deteriorating recently, so she was also arranged to be hospitalized. After she was admitted, Mrs. Sterling, whom I had only met once, came to the hospital for the first time ever. Sophia’s bed was set up next to mine. Mrs. Sterling stroked Sophia’s hand, smiling brightly as she said, “Sophia, dear, get well soon and marry our Lucas.” Sophia’s face turned red with embarrassment. “Auntie, don’t say that. Miss Reed is still here.” Only then did Mrs. Sterling glance at me coldly, before turning back to Sophia with a complete change in attitude. “Only a smart and beautiful girl like you is worthy of our Lucas. Don’t worry, the Sterling family only recognizes you as our daughter-in-law. I won’t bother with any other riffraff.” I lowered my head silently. Since my phone had been taken away, I didn’t even have anything to distract myself with. So the Sterling family wasn’t cold to everyone, it was just because I wasn’t their chosen one. “Mom, what are you saying?” The door to the ward opened, and a voice sounded in front of me. “The important thing now is to cure Sophia. I won’t be with such a vicious woman anyway.” As he spoke, I felt a gaze fall on me. I looked up. Two men were standing in front of me. One was Lucas, and the other… I looked over, but after meeting his eyes, my pupils contracted, and my body began to tremble uncontrollably. “I want to leave. I want to leave right now!” I pulled back the covers, intending to leave, but Lucas, thinking I didn’t want to donate my kidney to Sophia, forcefully pushed me back onto the bed. Because of Sophia’s worsening condition, Lucas had been quite anxious these past few days. “Alright, doctor, do an examination. If there’s no problem, arrange the surgery as soon as possible,” Lucas said to the man beside him. The man’s eyes swept over me with an ambiguous smile, and after finishing my examination, he went outside to talk with Lucas. Mrs. Sterling also left, reminding Sophia to call her after the surgery so she could come take care of her. With no one else around, Sophia dropped her hypocritical facade and walked to my bedside. Her finger traced along my waist as she smiled, “This kidney will soon belong to me.” I looked at her and coldly uttered two words: “Homewrecker.” Sophia snorted lightly. “In relationships, the one who isn’t loved is the third wheel. Blame yourself for being a toad lusting after swan meat, inserting yourself between Lucas and me.” I looked at her seriously and said, “It’s not too late to leave now, otherwise you’ll face retribution.” “Retribution? I’ve never believed in such things. But I should kindly remind you, you only have less than a day left to live,” Sophia smiled mockingly, looking at me like a victor. “I’ve bribed Dr. Ethan Reed who will perform your surgery. You’ll die on the operating table.” “And both your kidneys will be mine. Lucas will be mine too.” I turned my head indifferently. Sophia didn’t know. I couldn’t possibly die on the operating table. Because the person performing the surgery was my own brother. After Sophia finished talking to me, she went out to find Lucas. There were many security guards outside, so I had no chance of escaping. The next moment, the door was pushed open, and a gentle-looking man walked in. But having grown up with Ethan, I knew very well that his gentleness was just a facade, and he was actually a serial killer.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294968”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #惊悚Thriller #励志Inspiring

Hot! Why is it so hot? I vaguely remember that before I lost consciousness, the temperature on Earth had plummeted to minus 80 degrees Fahrenheit. There’s a saying that right before someone freezes to death, they feel a strange warmth. Was I already dead? No! I can’t die just like this! Those three despicable people are still alive, so how could I die before them? Suddenly, I opened my eyes. The first thing I saw was my husband, Lucas Johnson, standing beside the couch. He was wearing a thin t-shirt, his face glowing with warmth, clearly enjoying life without a care. He looked down at me and said casually, “Since you’re awake, go ahead and make dinner. My parents will be home soon.” The scene was so familiar, almost identical to the moment a month ago when I had slipped while mopping the floor, hit my head on the corner of the table, and passed out. And Lucas’s expression right now—it was the exact same as it had been back then! “Hey!” Lucas, seeing that I hadn’t moved, yanked me up forcefully, pulling me off the couch. “Faye, it’s already 5:15! Mom and Dad will be here by 5:30. What are you standing around for?” With that, he turned and walked back into his room to play his game, leaving me standing there with my heart racing. Lucas’s well-toned arm had gripped me so tightly that the pain in my arm was real. My heart pounded as I quickly grabbed my phone. The screen showed the date—it really was a month before that fateful day! Just then, a news alert popped up on my phone, reporting a conflict in some region. It was eerily similar to the chaos that had erupted just before the apocalypse in my previous life. Those painful memories came rushing back. In my past life, Lucas had been laid off. After that, he struggled to find a job, meeting failure after failure. As the only son of a rural family, his parents had moved in with us when they heard he’d lost his job. They were furious that as his wife, I wasn’t catering to his every need—especially that I wasn’t cooking for him every day. So, they decided to move in under the pretense of helping us. But instead of helping, they turned Lucas into a lazy, good-for-nothing man. Back then, I was trapped by “years of love” and couldn’t bring myself to leave him. I didn’t divorce him when I should have. But now—I’ve come back to the past! God finally heard my cry of frustration and gave me another chance! With gratitude filling my heart, I glanced around the room. The family heirloom furniture my parents left behind was still intact, and the sunlight was pouring in through the windows. I checked the weather forecast: it was 116°F (47°C)—even for a scorching summer, this was unusual heat. This extreme heat is why, when the Great Freeze hit half a month later, people didn’t see it coming. They felt too comfortable to notice. The temperature would drop rapidly—first by 9 or 18 degrees each day—until one day people would wake up to find it snowing in the middle of summer, with the temperature plunging to -30°F. That’s when the panic would finally set in. At first, you could still buy food if you had money, but before long, people would realize the danger, and everyone would have to fend for themselves. I remember suggesting to Lucas that we should stock up while we could still go to Costco Warehouse Store. But my in-laws overheard this from outside the room. They stormed in, hands around my throat, accusing me of trying to kill their son. “Don’t you know how deadly it is to go out in this cold?! You go if you want to die!” They yanked me roughly out of bed. “Let’s see how you like freezing to death, you wicked woman!” I was devastated, but Lucas remained silent. His mother’s grip on my throat tightened. I scratched at her hands in desperation, but Lucas stopped me cold. “That’s my mom! How could you lay a hand on her?” At that moment, I was shocked, but I finally understood. He had changed long ago. The moment I agreed to let his country-bumpkin parents move in with us, I had made a mistake. Maybe even marrying him had been the wrong decision from the start. In the days that followed, they dropped the masks they wore and became like demons. They hoarded all the warm clothes, forcing me to go out in -40°F weather to scavenge for food while they burned my family’s heirloom furniture for warmth. My hands were covered in frostbite, my exposed skin cracked from the cold. If I didn’t bring back enough food, I was met with scorn or beaten. If I tried to explain myself, they would strip off my down jacket and lock me outside until I begged for forgiveness. When there was no more food to find, they made a deal with the local gang to trade me for supplies. I fought back with all my strength, but I was left locked out on the freezing balcony. That’s how I froze to death. The humiliation and agony of those final moments felt as vivid as if it had happened yesterday, and tears rolled down my face uncontrollably. Just then, the sound of keys turning in the lock reached my ears—Lucas’s parents had come home.

As soon as they stepped inside, their eyes immediately went to the dining table. Seeing nothing, their faces darkened. I took a deep breath, wiped away my tears, and put on a cheerful smile to greet them. It wasn’t time to reveal my hand yet. I had to bide my time. I flashed my phone at them as I spoke. “Dad, Mom, something urgent came up at the factory, and I completely lost track of time. Why don’t I give you some money, and you can take Lucas out to eat something nice? I still need to go back to the factory to handle some things.” Right then, Mr. Johnson’s phone chimed with a notification. He unlocked it, and the amount he saw made him smile. “I’ll be back late tonight. Enjoy your dinner.” Ever since my parents passed away in that tragic accident, I had been running the furniture factory they left me, fresh out of college. It took countless sleepless nights, but eventually, I managed to bring that dormant production line back to life. Good thing I had been smart enough to never transfer ownership of the factory to Lucas. Now, the factory’s profits were my strongest leverage. Sure, it hurt a little to hand over $10,000 just like that, but to catch a big fish, you have to be willing to sacrifice some bait. I calculated the liquid cash I had left—just over a million dollars. Before Lucas lost his job, we had been pretty comfortable. But this past year, we had nearly eaten through all our savings. Still, between the property, the car, the stocks, and the debts the factory was owed, I could piece together enough to stay afloat for now. With that sorted, I rushed out the door, ready to get down to business. The elevator doors slid open, and standing inside was a young man. He had short hair, wore a black t-shirt, and his skin was a deep bronze. He stood quietly in the corner. If you didn’t know him, his presence might feel intimidating, unsettling even. But I knew he was a kind man. In my past life, when I was locked out on the balcony, it was him who dropped a heat pack down to me from above. But my mother-in-law had seen it, snatched it up, and gave it to Lucas instead. The three of them then conspired to frame me, accusing me of having an affair with him. That one small act of kindness had meant more to me than all the years of what I thought was an unbreakable marriage. I gave him a small smile and pressed the button for the basement. As the elevator descended, I casually remarked, “Seems like the weather’s been pretty weird this year, huh?” He glanced at me in surprise before nodding. “It sure has.” I feigned nonchalance. “I read an article recently about how this heat is just a backlash from rising global temperatures. Environmental damage is causing strange fluctuations in the weather, and they think it might lead to a sudden and drastic drop in temperatures.” He shot me a puzzled look and responded with a simple, “Oh.” I gave him one last glance before stepping out of the elevator. Ignoring the curious stares from others, I headed straight for a rental service and picked up a spacious old van. After that, I drove to Hillcrest Realty to rent a secluded private estate that I could move into right away. I wanted somewhere remote, with strong security. The agent looked out the window at the beat-up van I had rented, clear skepticism in his eyes. How could someone who was about to rent a luxury estate be driving such a rundown vehicle? I handed him an envelope stuffed with cash. “Relax, it’s all above board. You get your cut , I handle my business.” The agent’s expression shifted to one of sharp understanding. “Actually, I do have a place. It’s nearby.” I nodded, signaling him to lead the way. Sure enough, the agent brought me to an upscale neighborhood. I knew this area well—it wasn’t far from my home, but due to some silly superstitions about bad feng shui, hardly anyone had moved in. Rich people were obsessed with such nonsense, and it had turned this into a notorious money-losing project. And because of that, during the apocalypse, it had become an untouched safe haven. Though I was on a budget, I was still determined to haggle. “This place has quite the reputation as a ‘ghost town,’ so the price better reflect that.” The agent gave me a sideways look before forcing a smile. “You know your stuff. Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of overcharging you.” When we arrived, he pulled out the keys and opened the door, stepping aside to let me in. “The owner moved overseas, barely lived here. Fully furnished, with a private yard. The neighbors are far apart—very quiet.” Before stepping inside, I took a moment to survey the yard. The soil was rich and fertile—ideal for building a greenhouse to grow my own food. Inside, I inspected every corner, knocking and testing for durability. The solid wood furniture was well-built, and the windows were top-quality. But what delighted me the most was the enormous fireplace. The previous owner clearly had excellent taste. As the sun began to set, I stood on the terrace, looking out at the darkened windows of my current house in the distance, squinting my eyes thoughtfully. Turning to the agent, I said, “Let’s sign the lease for five years.” His eyes lit up with excitement. After paying the deposit and seeing him off, I took my time examining every inch of this soon-to-be apocalypse refuge. I mapped out where I would install security grilles and where to fortify weak points, planning everything meticulously. Just as I was about to explore the space under the stairs, an inconspicuous door caught my attention. My mind began to race with ideas… I pushed the door open. As the hinges turned, lights along the walls flickered to life, illuminating a path downward. To my amazement, this mansion had a hidden basement! It was clear that the previous owner had some foresight, creating this secret space during construction as a bunker of sorts. The agent hadn’t even known about it, which meant I now had a secret base—a valuable asset, especially with the apocalypse looming. The basement was roughly 1,300 square feet, fully furnished, and equipped with a state-of-the-art ventilation system. The air circulated freely, without any oppressive feeling. All it needed was enhanced insulation, and it would be the perfect shelter. Now, it was time to start stockpiling supplies. Carefully locking the basement door, I moved an old metal cabinet in front of it to keep it hidden. Then I pulled the curtains tightly shut and drove off to the nearest Costco Warehouse Store.

As soon as I entered the store, memories of hunger and freezing from my previous life flooded back, making my eyes gleam with a ravenous desire as I stared at the shelves of food. The key to preparing for the apocalypse was choosing items with a long shelf life that were easy to eat. So, instant meals like mac and cheese, turkey-flavored ramen, and various heat-and-eat meals were my top picks. I headed straight for the bulk section and, posing as a small-scale retailer, I ordered large quantities—ten cases of mac and cheese, ten cases of turkey-flavored ramen, and ten cases of heat-and-eat meals. Of course, a balanced diet was important, too. Fresh fruits and vegetables were a luxury I couldn’t afford or easily store. Growing them myself would be tricky. So, I focused on vacuum-packed, high-protein options and added twenty cases of preserved goods—chicken wings, chicken legs, jerky, duck products, and hard-boiled eggs. Next, I had to stock up on water. In my previous life, after Lucas and his family had betrayed me and left me trapped in the snow, the thirst I felt was indescribable. This time, I was ready. I reached out to Samantha Foster, my factory’s secretary, and had her connect me with a German company that made custom water barrels, designed to store as much water as possible in a compact space. The barrels would line the walls of the basement, and with the addition of a greenhouse and a water collection system I planned to install in the yard, I could survive for at least a year on my own. If worst came to worst, I could always melt and purify snow. Beyond food and water, medical supplies were critical. I drove around the city, visiting every 24-hour pharmacy. Every time I tried to buy ten boxes of medicine, I had to endure the suspicious or even alarmed looks from the clerks. One time, someone almost called the cops, thinking I was a drug dealer. I had to come up with an excuse, telling them I was part of a nonprofit organization collecting emergency supplies for a small town hit by a car accident. After much explaining, they reluctantly sold me what I needed. I left each store with a mountain of antibiotics, wound powder, vitamins, disinfectants, bandages, and antidotes. As I stared at the pile of medical supplies, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of nostalgia. In my previous life, Lucas and I had met during a volunteer relief mission. Back then, he wasn’t the selfish and cold person he later became. But people change. Fear of the apocalypse and his parents’ toxic influence had twisted him, turning his once kind heart into something ugly and greedy. This time around, I could have faced the apocalypse with him by my side, but… The me that had once cared for him was long gone. He had killed that part of me with his own hands. After gathering all the medical supplies, I picked up a few fire extinguishers and some emergency escape gear, preparing for any situation that might arise. Before long, my old van was packed to the brim. Since the estate’s storage space was limited, I decided to stop my first round of shopping here. Feeling worn out, I grabbed a few bags of long-lasting pastries and bread to fill the remaining space in the van. Then, I stopped at a late-night diner for a hearty meal before heading back home. The van was full, not just of supplies but also of a cautious optimism for the future. Even though tonight seemed normal, and the apocalypse was on its way, as long as I lived for today, I could find hope. Humming a little tune, I drove through the quiet streets, cherishing this seemingly ordinary, yet precious, night. Driving back to the Private Estate in Rural Georgia, I hauled load after load of supplies down to the basement. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the floor, gazing at my “spoils of victory” with a long sigh of relief. The apocalypse would last a long time, and I urgently needed to gather more resources. But with only myself, my energy was limited, and time was slipping away. This house still needed further modifications. After paying the rent and buying food and medicine, my bank account had dwindled to just over $800,000. To avoid running out of funds for the renovations later, I decided to rely on my family’s factory for production. The first priority was to get some high-quality bows and arrows as weapons. Decent ones only cost a few thousand dollars. As for the arrows, that was simple—my factory specialized in woodworking, and it wouldn’t be hard to whip up a batch of shafts in a pinch. Last month, the factory had bought some bamboo for making chopsticks. I could easily repurpose some of it and combine it with ball bearings to create a makeshift slingshot launcher. For firepower, the garage, which was sealed and secure, could store some fireworks to be used as emergency explosives. In an apocalypse, after all, human nature was often more dangerous than the environment. As for the house modifications: installing steel plates, adding solar panels, and creating indoor insulation—$800,000 would barely cover it all. While pondering this, I drifted off to sleep without realizing it. When I woke, I was drenched in sweat, having forgotten to turn on the basement’s ventilation system. My clothes were soaked through. I glanced at the time—it was already past 2 a.m. Quietly, I slipped out of the basement and peeked out through a small gap in the curtain, seeing that the lights in the house were still on. After freshening up a bit, I drove back home. I could already predict how Lucas and his parents would react. A “submissive housewife” disappearing for half a day with her phone turned off was bound to trigger a round of questioning. But what they didn’t know was that I was no longer the same Faye Johnson they were used to. When I got home, Lucas was glued to his video game, the room filled with the sounds of gunfire and explosions. I ignored him, took off my coat, and changed my shoes. Interrupted by the noise, Lucas paused the game and angrily threw down the controller. “Where the hell have you been? Coming home this late and not answering your phone?” “Do you even care that Mom and Dad didn’t get dinner tonight?” Without looking at him, I walked straight to the bedroom and tossed out, “I was working late at the factory. There was an emergency.” My father-in-law shuffled out of the adjacent room, letting out a cold snort. “What kind of ‘emergency’ makes you work so late? What, that little wood factory of yours has some earth-shattering business that can’t wait until Monday?” Funny, he didn’t have this attitude when I handed him that money earlier. I rolled my eyes inwardly but didn’t say anything. Lucas suddenly threw his phone onto the table. “You say you were working late, but I called the office so many times—nobody picked up! What kind of work are you doing?” His mother chimed in, raising her voice. “I told you, son, this kind of woman who’s always out and about is no good. Always talking about ‘working late.’ Who knows what kind of people she’s really meeting—men or women.” With her words, Lucas’s expression darkened further. No wonder, in the past, whenever I worked late, he’d ask about it over the phone but never came to pick me up. It was all just surveillance. Looking at the three of them sitting in a row on the couch, their faces made me sick. I chuckled, “It’s business, right? I deal with both men and women. What, Lucas, would you like to go in my place next time?” “And Mom, didn’t you say you were here to take care of the both of us?” “Well, I’ll leave that to you. From now on, when I’m not home, you can cook for your son.” “After all, those hands of his are only good for video games, right?” Since we got married, I had always believed in keeping the peace in the family, treating my in-laws with respect. But now, I was done. If it weren’t for the fact that I needed time to stockpile supplies, I wouldn’t bother dealing with them at all. My mother-in-law, caught off guard by my defiance, shot up from the couch, her finger nearly poking my nose. “So, you think you’ve found some rich sugar daddy, huh? Daring to talk to me like this! You’re finally admitting you’re no good, right? If it wasn’t for my son, who would even care about an orphan like you—Ah!” Her nasty rant was cut short when I threw my bag at her face. My expression was cold and my voice even colder: “Look at yourself before you point fingers at me. Without my parents, your son wouldn’t be living so comfortably.” “Mom!” Lucas rushed over, catching his mother as she collapsed into his arms, trembling. My father-in-law, also shaking, got up and started shouting at me. I ignored their outburst and calmly went to my bedroom, locking the door behind me. There were only 29 days left until the apocalypse. Don’t expect me to tolerate any of you ever again! Lucas’s family raged and cried well into the night, but I put on earplugs and slept soundly.

Monday morning dawned, and with it, a new day. I got myself ready and prepared to head out. Lucas was still snoring on the couch, and his parents, having stayed up late after last night’s argument, were also still asleep. Quietly, I slipped out the front door. Another day closer to the end, the tension inside me tightening with each passing hour. First on the agenda was heading to the factory to handle some things—collecting outstanding payments and contacting construction teams. As soon as I walked into the office, I headed straight to my computer. I reviewed yesterday’s shopping list, then carefully categorized everything, making sure to cover every aspect of daily life and ensure I didn’t miss anything. The house renovations would take time, and I needed to lock down the construction teams today. Fortunately, during the factory’s recent renovations, I had kept contact information for a few reliable crews. For security reasons, I decided to hire several different teams to work on separate parts of the project. That way, no one would be able to connect the dots about my “apocalypse shelter.” As long as no one linked the information, my secret would be safe. With that in mind, I made a few calls, explaining that I was helping a friend remodel a workshop, and quickly wired $50,000 in deposits, making sure they started work that very afternoon. For the heavy machinery and specialized materials, I needed a lot of cash, so I sold all my stocks in one go, disregarding the fluctuations in the market. Next, I contacted an agent to sell the factory’s company vehicles and an out-of-town property I had in my name, keeping only an SUV, which I planned to send to the shop for upgrades and modifications. After that, I sent out instructions to the department heads, ordering them to recover all outstanding debts within a week, with a promise to reward 40% of any amounts collected as a bonus. The sales team exploded with excitement. Within minutes, action-oriented staff were already heading out the door. With this careful planning, I expected to recover close to a million dollars—enough to cover the renovation costs. That afternoon, I brought the first construction crew to the estate and discussed the details of the modifications. The top priority was reinforcing the perimeter fence, which would take two days. I explained that the “owner” was planning to raise large dogs, so the wire mesh needed to be extra dense. For the second team, I instructed them to install bulletproof glass, giving them a five-day deadline. The supervisor broke into a sweat. “You’ve got to be kidding me! Bulletproof glass installed in five days? That’s impossible!” “And what’s this friend of yours up to, installing bulletproof glass in their house?” I pulled him aside and spun a story about how my “friend” was a war correspondent with some PTSD from working in conflict zones. He bought it, though it meant double the cost. But if money could solve the problem, then it wasn’t really a problem. I transferred the funds without a second thought. The third and fourth teams were in charge of adding insulation, fireproofing, reinforcing the walls, and upgrading the garage. Even with the minimalist design I wanted, by the time the renovations were finished, my budget would be almost depleted. I rented a warehouse near the estate to serve as a storage hub for supplies and headed straight for the mall with a massive shopping list. Within three days, I needed to have all the goods delivered to the warehouse: high-end winter clothing, heat packs, portable heaters, and more. I had six solar panels installed on the roof in one go. Even if it got unbearably hot, freezing was not an option. By the time I finished, it was 5 p.m., right in the middle of rush hour. I collapsed into the driver’s seat, breathing heavily. Reviewing the checklist, I still felt like something was missing. I had to make sure there were no gaps in my plans. In the rearview mirror, I saw my flushed face, realizing that my health had deteriorated over the years from overworking. That’s it! Fitness equipment! Staying physically strong would be essential to survive the unknown challenges ahead. I headed to a sporting goods store and ordered dumbbells, an elliptical machine, and a multi-functional training rack, requesting delivery to my home. The store even threw in a complimentary guidebook called “Complete Fitness Guide for Women”, which covered exercises for all muscle groups—a very practical gift. This also reminded me that in a future of freezing temperatures and no internet, reading might be my best form of entertainment. So, I went to a bookstore and bought hundreds of books across various genres, having the staff load them all into my trunk. As night fell, I stopped for dinner before finally heading back home. Opening the door, I found Lucas and his parents happily seated at the dining table, enjoying a meal of lobster. His mother peeled a lobster and placed it in Lucas’s bowl. But when they saw me, all three of their smiles froze. “Faye, listen to me…” “Wait. Let me finish first.” I pulled out the divorce papers from my bag and placed them lightly on the dining table. “I’ve done everything I could for you over the years. Let’s get a divorce. You can keep the house, and I’ll just take my parents’ old furniture.” “No way!” Lucas suddenly exploded in anger, snatching up the papers and tearing them into pieces. “Son!” Mrs. Johnson hurriedly stopped Lucas, who was almost out of control. She leaned in and whispered something in his ear. “Mom!” Lucas started to speak but stopped when Mrs. Johnson shot him a commanding look, like a general in charge of a battlefield. “Fine, you can get a divorce,” she said with a calm, calculating smile. “But besides the house, we’ll need an extra million dollars in compensation.” Compensation? I let out a cold laugh. I hadn’t even begun to charge them for the emotional damage they had caused me over the years. “You can have the car too, along with the house. That’s it. I’m going away on business, Lucas. You have three days to think it over. Let me know your decision.” Before they could react, I went to the bedroom, packed some clothes and personal items, and left with my suitcase. As I drove out of Greenwood Apartments, I noticed a shadowy figure lurking nearby. Thank goodness I had planned to stop by the grocery store first instead of driving straight to the Private Estate. Otherwise, I might’ve been caught. If they want to play games, I’ll play along. I pulled over and quickly sent out a few texts. The replies came swiftly, with a confirmation emoji. Good thing I’d kept contact information handy for just such an occasion. Watching the figure getting closer through the rearview mirror, I pretended to take a phone call and raised my voice. “Yes… Room 1705 at the Hilton Nashville Downtown? Sure, I’ll be there in half an hour. You go ahead and wait for me.” I hung up the phone, cranked up the music, and sped off, feeling lighthearted. I drove straight to the hotel. After parking, I hurried inside, slipping into a quiet corner of the lobby where I could watch the elevators. Sure enough, Lucas stormed in a few minutes later, his face dark with anger. Hooked! I immediately dialed 911. “Hi, I’d like to report suspicious activity in Room 1705 of the Hilton Nashville Downtown. There might be something illegal going on. Please send someone to check it out. Thank you.” Since the hotel was located in a busy part of the city, and with the local authorities eager to maintain public safety, the police responded quickly. Within the time it took to drink a coffee, Lucas and a woman dressed provocatively were escorted out of the hotel by the police. “Let go of me! I’m here to see my wife!” Lucas protested, struggling against the officers. A young officer sternly questioned him, “Where’s your wife? Is she really your wife? Can you even tell me her name?” Lucas was at a loss for words. An older officer sighed, “Son, just admit your mistake and move on. It’s not that big of a deal.” Then, they were all loaded into the police car and taken away. Problem temporarily solved, I headed to the grocery store, buying whatever I felt like. By the time I checked out, I had two carts full. As I was loading the items into my car, my phone rang. “Hello, is this Lucas Johnson’s family? This is the police department. Your husband has been detained for illegal behavior. Please come down to the station to arrange bail.” “What? Lucas would never do something like that!” I feigned shock. “I’ll be there right away.” Who was I kidding? I quickly hung up and called Mrs. Johnson. “Hi, Mrs. Johnson. The police just called. Your son has been arrested for some misconduct. If you don’t want him to suffer, you’d better bring money to the station!” I hung up before she could respond. As the night settled in, I parked the car in the private garage of the estate and quietly returned to the apartment building. I watched from the shadows as Lucas’s parents hurried out of the building, shouting and cursing the whole way. Once I was sure they were far enough away, I took the elevator back up to the apartment and quickly set up a few hidden cameras in some discreet spots. I wanted to make sure I could catch every humiliating moment of their downfall. My heart pounded. It was my first time doing something like this, and I couldn’t help feeling a bit nervous. Time was ticking. I had to hurry. I took a deep breath to calm myself and connected the cameras to my phone. Even if the internet cut out, I could still monitor them in real-time through the device. Before leaving, I double-checked that the cameras were well hidden. Satisfied, I quietly left the apartment. By the time I returned to the Private Estate, it was late. To avoid disturbing the neighbors, the construction crews had stopped work promptly at 8 p.m., as per regulations. I inspected the progress and was pleased with the results. At this pace, the place would be ready in just ten days. Money, after all, was the ultimate motivator. I had converted most of my remaining cash into gold. As any basic economics course would teach, gold and silver were always the safest currencies. I hid the shiny treasures in the most secret corner of the basement. Unless someone drained the entire three-month water supply, no one would ever find them. After a long bath, I curled up on the couch, snacking and watching TV, savoring the peaceful moment. Looking at myself in the mirror post-shower, I couldn’t help but notice how different I looked. I had money, I had looks—why had I ever settled for a man like Lucas for three whole years? Love really did blind women. We could turn trash into something shiny and clean, fooling ourselves completely. Checking the time, I pulled out my phone and opened my messaging app. The three-person “loving family” had returned home and were sitting in the living room, recounting the events of the evening. Mrs. Johnson flicked Lucas on the forehead. “I told you to keep an eye on her, and instead, you got yourself arrested?” Lucas scratched his head, frustrated. “I really did hear her say she was going to the hotel! Otherwise, why would I have gone there… Mom, I told you this kind of thing isn’t for me. You made me do it!” Mrs. Johnson sighed heavily, clearly disappointed. “I wanted you to catch her cheating so we could get more in the divorce. Do you even know how much money she has? If you let her walk away without giving you anything, all you’ll have left is this old house and that beat-up car. Don’t be stupid, son!” “I’m not getting a divorce!” Lucas shouted. “Yeah, I admit I went after her because of the money at first, but after all this time, I do have feelings for her!” So, it had all been a scheme from the start. I almost felt sorry for my past self. Almost. Mr. Johnson put his hand on Lucas’s shoulder. “Feelings? What good are feelings? You think she loves you? The house, the car, the money—it’s all in her name. You care about her, but does she care about you? Divorce would be better. At least you’d walk away with something.” “Exactly!” Mrs. Johnson clapped her hands, already imagining their future. “That house is in a prime location. It’s only going to go up in value. And that car is worth tens of thousands. Talk to her, ask for more compensation, and find yourself a better girl.” Mrs. Johnson was practically giddy with excitement. “Besides, do you even know what she’s doing when she’s out? She could’ve been with someone else this whole time. You trust her too much! A woman running her own business? You think that’s easy? Without paying some kind of price, where’d all that money come from?” “Son, the only people who truly care about you are your parents!” “Would we ever steer you wrong?” Watching Lucas waver under their barrage of manipulation, I quietly turned off my phone. A man with no backbone would always be controlled by others. The next day, I went to work with dark circles under my eyes. As I tried to sleep that night, memories of Lucas’s tenderness and the cold reality of his family’s true nature swirled in my mind. Perhaps I hadn’t grown enough, because their words still stung. By the middle of the night, I gave up on sleeping and got out of bed to bury myself in work. The factory workers were my partners, people who had stood by me through thick and thin. With the apocalypse looming, I couldn’t let them down. Carrying a rough draft of my plans, I walked into the office. My assistant, Samantha Foster, immediately brought me a cup of water. “Faye, did you not sleep again? Your dark circles are so bad,” she said with concern. I smiled and asked her to tally up yesterday’s collections and calculate the performance bonuses for each employee as we discussed. By the afternoon, my phone was ringing off the hook—calls from various wholesalers I’d ordered supplies from. I wolfed down my lunch and texted Samantha, letting her know I’d be heading out of town on a business trip to Miami, Florida, and would return in three days. That would be enough time to handle everything. At the warehouse, the delivery trucks were already lined up. I quickly unlocked the doors and directed the workers to unload the goods. One of the truck drivers, eyeing the piles of clothes, food, and electronics, asked curiously, “What’s all this for? Planning something big?” I smiled. “We’re doing a company retreat and taking some supplies to a community in need.” The driver’s expression turned serious, and I felt a bit guilty for lying. Lately, I’d been spinning a lot of these half-truths. Maybe it was time I did something good for a change, to balance things out. Once everything was unloaded, I noticed a few missed calls from Lucas and Samantha. I quickly called Samantha back. “What’s up?” I asked. “Faye, Lucas showed up at the office looking for you. I told him you were on a trip to Miami, but he didn’t believe me. He made quite a scene before finally leaving.” Ugh, what a headache. “Don’t worry, I’ll handle it,” I assured her. “Are you two okay?” Samantha asked. “Oh, just the usual marital spat. Nothing serious,” I lied casually. After hanging up, I noticed the trucks were long gone, leaving me alone in the now-empty warehouse. Staring at all the supplies, I realized I couldn’t just leave them scattered everywhere. So, I started organizing, loading up my car with boxes and driving straight to the Private Estate. On the way, I stopped at the hardware store and ordered sturdy shelving units that would fit perfectly in the basement. I paid an extra $10,000 to have them delivered and installed the next afternoon. On the way back, I also stopped at a rental company and secured a small truck, agreeing to park it near the estate at 8 p.m. Once everything was arranged, I drove home, feeling the summer evening’s breeze brush against my face, the future now seeming just a bit brighter.

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Every time I see her flirting with those men, I feel so embarrassed! What’s most confusing to me is that she’s in her mid-forties, yet she still yearns for love. I always mock her for it. “With the way you act, Mom, I’m probably the only one in this world who’ll still love you,” I’d say. She’d just smile at me, tugging at my cheek while laughing. “Plenty of men are chasing me, kiddo!” And honestly, that was true. There were a lot of men interested in her. But she didn’t care about any of them, except one—a man who was sixteen years younger than her. And she was the one who made the first move. That man was named Axel Whitlock. He had this whole “refined bad boy” thing going on, with gold-rimmed glasses that somehow made him look even more dangerous. He was good-looking, with sharp brows, striking eyes, a straight nose, and lips that always looked like they came straight out of a fashion ad. He was tall, around six feet, and his pale skin made the tattoos on his arms stand out even more. The first time I saw him, I was frozen for a moment. For a while, Axel Whitlock was a regular at Hawthorne’s Smokehouse, my mom’s barbecue joint. Every time, he’d call me over to take his order, get him a drink, or bring him some more food. He always stared at me, openly complimenting how pretty I was. Honestly, I felt shy and a little annoyed by it. I didn’t want to run errands for him, but when he handed me a twenty-dollar tip, suddenly, I didn’t mind so much. Axel always ordered a huge amount of barbecue, claiming he couldn’t finish it all, and then smiling as he passed me some of the food. I had barbecue to eat every night, and I could eat as much as I wanted without my mom getting on my case. So, my impression of Axel wasn’t all that bad. Until that one night. My mom brought Axel into the back room, where she and I slept. They were in there for a long time. I stood by the door, listening. I heard my mom giggling, sounding more flirtatious than usual. Then there were sounds of chairs scraping across the floor. After a moment, I heard Axel laugh, too. When my mom finally came out, I angrily confronted her. “What were you two doing in there?” “Just talking,” she said, laughing as she ran her fingers through her hair. But her eyes were scanning me, up and down. That only made me angrier. Her look seemed to say, “You’re just a kid; you wouldn’t understand.” “Just talking? You were alone with a guy in a room for an hour, and you expect me to believe you were just talking?” My mom suddenly laughed, reached out, and pinched my cheek affectionately. “Relax, honey. Axel’s going to take care of me for the rest of my life.” I was stunned. First, I couldn’t believe how fast she’d found someone. And second, was Axel seriously into my mom? Was he blind? I opened my mouth, but no words came out. I knew there was no way I could stop my mom from being with another man. After all, when I was just five, she divorced my dad and raised me alone, too afraid to remarry in case a stepdad might treat me poorly. Now that I was grown, I had no right to stand in the way of her happiness. Besides, she’d found a guy she liked. And he wasn’t just good-looking—he was wealthy, and he’d promised to take care of her for life. But that night, I still buried my head in my pillow and cried hard. I couldn’t help but feel that soon, I’d become the forgotten child. My mom would be like my dad—she’d build a new family and forget all about me. The day after my mom told me Axel would take care of her for life, we moved. Axel bought the house. It was a three-bedroom apartment in Aspen Ridge Apartments, just a thirty-minute drive from Maple Creek High School, where I went to school. It was my first time living in such a nice place. It wasn’t just clean and spacious—it was peaceful. And when you turned on the lights, it was like something out of an influencer’s Instagram post.

At first, I resisted the move, but after seeing my new bedroom with a giant bed all to myself, I quickly changed my mind. That change of heart took about thirty seconds. As I lay on that soft, comfortable bed, I started thinking, maybe Axel wasn’t so bad for my mom after all. Still, one thing had me nervous. I was going to be living under the same roof as Axel. A week later, he finally moved in. And when he did, he brought along a little girl who couldn’t have been more than five years old. “Say hi to everyone, Ivy,” Axel said, looking down at her with a warm smile. “Hi, Auntie! Hi, big sister!” She was adorable, round-faced and pale, looking just like a little doll. I smiled warmly at her. It didn’t take more than a day for us to get along. I found out she was Axel’s daughter from his ex-wife. “Look, this is my mommy,” Ivy said, pulling a picture out of her backpack. It was a family photo, and her mom had this graceful, almost aristocratic look to her. I couldn’t help comparing her to my mom, and, honestly, they were worlds apart. One was a high-society lady, the other, well, just a regular woman. I had to wonder—did Axel have a problem with his vision, or was there something else going on? “Mom loves my brother more than me. She doesn’t love me, so she left me with Daddy. I don’t like her anymore,” Ivy said, her little lips pouting and her eyes welling up with tears. Seeing that she was about to cry, I quickly handed her a doll and said, “Hey, how about we play house?” “Okay!” Ivy cheered up instantly. I looked up and saw Axel standing in the doorway, watching us with a smile on his face. The whole situation felt weird. I quickly got up and left the room. But I could still feel his gaze following me until I shut the door. After that, things only got stranger. My mom was with Axel, but at the same time, it didn’t feel like they were really together. I understood why they weren’t having a wedding, since it was a second marriage for both. But why weren’t they even getting a marriage license? Plus, they didn’t sleep in the same room. Actually, Axel never stayed in the apartment at night. As soon as it got dark, he’d grab his car keys and leave. My mom always laughed it off, saying he was some sort of night owl, always busy after dark. But something about the whole situation seemed off. After thinking about it all night, I came to a conclusion. It must’ve been because I was around, so they couldn’t have their alone time. After giving it some thought, I decided to move into the school dorms. But when I brought it up, my mom got furious. “Living at school is out of the question! Don’t bring it up again!” she snapped. I was confused. They were newlyweds, right? Wouldn’t they want me out of the way? At the same time, though, a part of me felt happy. My mom still cared about me more. “If she wants to live at school, let her,” Axel said as he came in from outside. My mom looked surprised but quickly regained her composure. She turned to me with a softer expression. “Well, if Axel says it’s okay, then fine, you can go.” Even though she’d been calling him “Axel” this whole time, hearing it again made me pause for a second. I thanked him, addressing him as “Uncle Axel” out of habit, and started to head back to my room. Normally, I tried to avoid being around Axel whenever he was at home, just to give them some space. But this time, as I stood up to leave, I noticed Axel frowning. Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back onto the couch. He stared at me seriously for a while before finally saying, “I’m only ten years older than you. Calling me ‘Uncle’ feels weird. How about just calling me by my name?” “I’m pretty laid-back. I don’t care about formalities.” A wave of unease washed over me, and I glanced over at my mom. “Young people are easygoing like that. It’s fine. I’m easygoing too,” she said with a smile, raising her hands behind her head as she leaned back on the couch. But the way she looked at Axel didn’t seem like she was looking at a husband. I shook my head and hurried back to my room. Then I heard my mom calling after me from the living room. “Looks like my girl’s all grown up—she’s even getting shy!” And then Axel’s deep, carefree laughter followed. My heart felt more tangled than ever. Something was off—I just couldn’t put my finger on it. When I finally moved into the school dorms, I learned something shocking about Axel Whitlock. Something I never would’ve guessed.

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