At 3 AM, my neighbor John broke down my door with a group of people, claiming I’d hit someone with my car and fled the scene.
One of them grabbed me by the collar and yelled:
“It was you! You hit my dad and drove off. I got your license plate number. My dad’s in the ICU right now, unconscious! You’re taking full responsibility for this!”
He shoved his phone in my face, showing me photo evidence.
His wife stood beside him holding their child, wailing dramatically.
Still half-asleep, I had no idea what was happening. “What does this have to do with me?”
The crowd joined in, pointing fingers: “Hit someone and still managed to sleep—how cold-blooded! How can we have a criminal like this living here!”
Hit someone?
I’m red-green colorblind. I can’t even drive!
“Sir, please calm down,” I tried to keep my voice steady. “I didn’t leave my apartment today. You must have the wrong person.”
John lived in the unit below mine. We usually nodded to each other when we crossed paths.
But right now, he looked like he wanted to eat me alive.
He shoved his phone screen in my face. “Wrong person? Is this your license plate or not?”
The screen showed the rear of a Porsche Panamera, the plate number clear as day: A123.
I squinted at it for two seconds and nodded. “That’s my car, but I—”
“So you admit it!” He turned to the other neighbors. “Everyone heard that, right? The car is hers!”
The hallway erupted.
“That’s rich people for you—hit someone and won’t own up to it.”
“Look at her face, acting all innocent.”
His wife pushed through with the child in her arms and collapsed to her knees, sobbing hysterically:
“Please, I’m begging you! My dad’s on a ventilator. The surgery costs $30,000.”
“It’s nothing to you, but it’ll destroy our family. You can’t just let him die!”
My scalp prickled. I quickly tried to help her up. “Please get up first. We haven’t even figured out what happened—”
“It’s crystal clear!” John grabbed my arm. “I saw it with my own eyes! Your car ran a red light and sent my dad flying twenty feet!”
Finally fully awake, anger flared inside me:
“I didn’t drive anywhere today! Just because you say I hit him means I did?”
“Thirty thousand dollars? Why not say three hundred thousand? I could just as easily say you’re trying to rob me!”
The moment the words left my mouth, John’s hand connected with my face.
The slap sent me stumbling back two steps, my ears ringing.
“Bullshit!” He jabbed his finger at my nose. “My father is dying!”
“If you don’t pay up, I’ll call the cops right now and have you thrown in jail! You won’t get away with this!”
Someone in the hallway cheered him on: “Good! People like her need to be taught a lesson!”
The neighbors grew more agitated.
“Don’t waste your breath on her—call the police! Lock her up!”
His wife knelt on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably, the child wailing along with her.
Camera flashes went off in my face.
I covered my cheek and slowly straightened. “Fine. Call the police.”
John froze.
“Didn’t you say you’d call them? Go ahead.” I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth.
I turned, pulled something from my bedside table, and slapped it against his chest.
“While you’re at it, have them explain how someone who’s red-green colorblind and can’t drive managed to hit your dad!”
John stared down at the red-green colorblindness certificate for three seconds.
The shouting from the hallway stopped.
Someone muttered quietly, “Red-green colorblind? Doesn’t that mean she can’t get a license?”
“John, could you have… gotten the wrong person?”
I pointed at the paper in his hands. “See it clearly? It’s got an official stamp. Can you read?”
John’s face went from pale to flushed and back again.
The next second, he threw the paper on the ground. “You think one piece of paper can fool me?”
“You can afford a Porsche Panamera, but you don’t have a license?” He stepped closer. “Besides, if you really are colorblind, that means you were driving without a license! That makes it even worse!”
The others nodded in sudden understanding.
“Right! She almost tricked us!”
“No wonder she ran the red light—she can’t tell the colors apart at all!”
I had no interest in continuing this pointless argument.
“Fine,” I pulled out my phone. “Like I said, let’s call the police. We’ll see if I’m playing dumb or if you’re trying to scam me.”
“Go ahead! Call them! We’ll see who they arrest when they get here!” John snarled.
The call connected. I gave them the address and explained the situation.
After hanging up, I leaned against the doorframe without another word.
John kept ranting: “You’re calling the police now just to stall until my dad dies!”
“Don’t think you can get away with this. No matter what, I’m sending you to prison.”
“Shut up,” I said coldly. “Your dad’s not dead yet. Why are you so eager to curse him? Afraid he’ll die and you’ll get less money?”
John’s expression changed instantly.
“Say that again!”
He lunged at me, but his wife grabbed him and held him back.
I was about to respond when sirens wailed from downstairs.
John rushed toward them like he’d found his savior:
“Officers! It’s her! She ran a red light and hit my dad, then refused to admit it!”
The police officer looked me over. “Are you the owner of vehicle A123?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hit someone?”
“No.”
John panicked. “It was her! I saw it with my own eyes!”
The officer waved for him to be quiet and turned back to me. “Miss, you say you didn’t hit anyone. Do you have proof?”
I picked up the certificate from the floor and handed it over.
The officer opened it and paused. “Red-green colorblind?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
The officer frowned. “Then how did you get this car?”
“It’s a keepsake from my father,” I paused. “But I can’t drive it, so it’s always been parked in the garage.”
“The dealership comes to pick it up for maintenance. There are records.”
John sneered. “Keep making stuff up! You think the cops will believe you?”
The officer ignored him and turned to the property manager. “Pull up the security footage.”
The manager scratched his head. “Well, we had that heavy snow a couple days ago, right?”
“It damaged some of the wiring. The parking garage cameras are down—we haven’t had a chance to fix them yet…”
My heart sank.
What a coincidence.
John immediately perked up. “The footage is gone? Your evidence disappeared! Bet you’re thrilled!”
The officer frowned. “Sir, please remain quiet.”
“We have our own procedures. Without clear evidence, please show this woman some respect.”
He turned to me. “Miss, does your car have a dashcam?”
“Yes.”
“May we take a look?”
I nodded, grabbed the car keys from the living room cabinet, and handed them over.
The group went downstairs to the underground garage.
The officer had just reached the front of the car and hadn’t even opened the door yet.
Suddenly John rushed forward and threw himself onto the hood, his voice cracking with excitement:
“Officers! Come look at this!”
He pointed at the front bumper. “What is this?”
I walked over and used my phone light to see.
On the right side of the bumper was a fresh scrape mark with a bloodstain on it.
The crowd erupted:
“There’s no denying it now! The car’s got such a huge dent!”
“She was so stubborn before—let’s see what she says now!”
John’s wife rushed forward with the child, pointing at the bloodstain. “That’s my dad’s blood… What do you have to say for yourself now?”
My head was spinning.
Impossible. I never drove the car.
The officer crouched down, shining his flashlight on the mark, his brow furrowed. “Miss, how do you explain this?”
I opened my mouth, my voice dry. “I don’t know… I really never drove the car.”
John sneered. “Don’t know? It’s your car, the blood’s right here, and you don’t know?”
The officer stood up and looked at me. “Miss, we need to collect samples for testing. Please cooperate with the investigation and come with us.”
My instincts told me that if I went with them now, things would only get worse.
Could someone else have driven my car and caused an accident?
“Okay.” I nodded. “But I have one request—let me make a phone call first to verify something.”
The officer nodded.
I pulled out my phone and called the dealership’s service manager, putting it on speaker.
“Manager, this is Russell. Quick question—has anyone touched my car recently?”
There was a two-second pause on the other end. “Your car? No.”
“The last service was two weeks ago. After we finished, we parked it back in its spot. The keys have been with you the whole time. No one here has touched it.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. Our dealership has a policy—every time a customer’s vehicle goes in or out, we log it.”
The call ended.
The officer looked at me.
I held my phone, my mind racing.
So where did this scrape come from? Where did the blood come from?
The murmuring in the crowd grew louder.
John was energized. “Given up yet? It couldn’t have been anyone but you!”
He grabbed my arm. “Let’s go! You’re paying me that $30,000 today!”
I stumbled from the force, hitting the car door.
My head struck the window frame, the pain making my vision go dark.
In that instant, my eyes caught sight of the small black box attached to the windshield inside the car.
The dashcam!
“Wait!” I grabbed the car door and wouldn’t let go. “I want to see the dashcam footage right now!”
John froze, then sneered. “What good is a last-ditch struggle? Planning to pull another trick?”
I ignored him and looked at the officer. “Officer, if I really hit someone, there must be footage in the dashcam!”
The officer nodded, opened the car door, and removed the memory card from the dashcam. “Alright, let’s watch it now.”
The footage loaded.
Everyone held their breath, watching the progress bar crawl forward.
John crowded in. “Fast forward! Don’t waste time! Yesterday at 6:34 PM—that’s when my dad got hit!”
The officer frowned but hit fast forward anyway.
The footage sped past, showing nothing but the gray parking garage wall.
The knot in my chest loosened slightly.
It seemed my car really had been parked here the whole time, never moved.
The timestamp jumped to 6:30 PM yesterday.
In the footage, my car suddenly started and drove out of the underground garage.
My heart dropped.
The car approached an intersection. The light was red, but the car showed no sign of slowing down.
It drove straight through.
An elderly man on the crosswalk couldn’t dodge in time. He was hit and sent flying twenty feet, landing hard on the pavement.
The car didn’t stop at all—it simply made a U-turn and left.
John shoved his phone in my face, his voice shaking:
“See that? That’s my dad! What do you have to say now?”
“You wanted evidence—there it is! What, you hit someone and don’t remember? Think you have multiple personalities? Acting like you have amnesia to escape reality?”
“Let me tell you something—you’re paying for the medical bills! Thirty thousand dollars, not a penny less!”
But I said nothing, just stared at the screen.
I dragged the progress bar back and forth, watching that segment over and over.
Once, twice, three times, trying to find any flaw.
But the more I watched, the more confused I became.
The crowd completely lost it:
“The evidence is right there!”
“What are you waiting for? Arrest her!”
“Lock her up! Charge her!”
I was shoved around, surrounded by cursing voices.
The officer held back the surging crowd. Just as he was about to speak, his radio crackled.
“Copy that. Copy that.”
After listening, his expression darkened. He turned to me and reached for his handcuffs.
“Russell, forensics just sent word. The blood on your car’s bumper has been tested. The DNA matches…”
He paused.
“Bradley, John’s father.”
He stepped forward and the handcuffs clicked around my wrists.
“You’re under arrest for hit-and-run.”
Some in the crowd applauded and cheered. Others took photos.
I was pushed toward the police car.
My feet stumbled. My mind went blank.
Impossible. Truly impossible.
I’d never driven a car. I couldn’t drive.
But the footage clearly recorded the entire crime.
Could I really have multiple personalities? Did I kill someone and not remember?
Wait. Something’s wrong.
I stopped abruptly.
The officer frowned. “Get in the car. Please cooperate with the investigation. Don’t waste time.”
The dashcam video was still playing on a loop.
“Officer,” my voice trembled, “can I watch that video one more time?”
John cursed from the side. “Still trying to deny it? Officers, don’t let her stall for time. Just take her away!”
The officer stopped him, hesitated for a moment, then handed me the phone.
I dragged the progress bar back to the beginning.
The car left the garage, passed the first intersection, red light, hit the person, made a U-turn, returned to the complex.
I watched it again.
Suddenly, my eyes locked onto a detail.
Of course! The trick was right here!
I looked up sharply. “I know who the real culprit is!”
🌟 Continue the story here
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A clueless young nurse recently joined our department.
Every time I performed a routine gynecological exam on a female patient, she’d stand behind me, covering her mouth and gasping dramatically.
She’d ask questions that sounded innocent but shattered my professional integrity:
“Why are you swallowing when you’re examining her?”
“Oh my gosh, do you really have to reach inside? Why is your finger moving around so much in there?”
“That’s so embarrassing! You’re not secretly taking advantage and getting off, are you?!”
In my previous life, I tolerated her, assuming she was just ignorant of clinical procedures. I maintained my professionalism even when offended.
But my career promotions were inexplicably stalled, year after year.
One day, she suddenly posted a photo of me performing a palpation, taken from a highly unflattering angle, in the hospital’s main SnapChat group, tagging me.
“Anthony… Even though the patient is under anesthesia, you shouldn’t take advantage and grope around to satisfy yourself!!”
With medical malpractice claims running rampant and the entire internet condemning me, I was branded a perverted doctor. Consumed by resentment, I jumped from the hospital building.
As my soul plummeted, I actually saw her:
She held my core research paper, stolen from my computer, and shamelessly put her own name on it, successfully securing a permanent position and a promotion!
It turned out she was constantly slandering me,
All to drive me to my death, then legitimately seize my academic achievements!
When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she first blushed and asked me why I was taking off a patient’s pants.
“Anthony, why did you take off all her pants?”
“That’s way too embarrassing, can’t she at least keep her underwear on?”
“Oh my gosh, why do you have to reach inside?”
Korina’s overly sweet voice suddenly burst out in the examination room.
Filled with feigned horror and exaggerated trembles.
The young patient lying on the examination table instantly stiffened, her legs clamping together, her face beet red.
She looked at me like I was a lecherous pervert.
Korina hid behind the light blue curtain, covering her mouth.
Her innocent eyes, adorned with fake eyelashes, fluttered dramatically.
“Anthony… I didn’t have to undress like this in my practical classes before.”
“Are you trying to… Oh, I shouldn’t say it, it’s so embarrassing.”
This scene was all too familiar.
The sensation of falling from the tall building snapped me wide awake.
I had been reborn!
In my previous life, to maintain harmony in the department, I patiently explained that this was standard procedure, even with her slanderous accusations.
The result was the patient breaking down on the spot, filing a sexual harassment complaint against me, making it known throughout the entire hospital.
Afterward, Korina cried, claiming she was just naive and too pure.
This time, I would never swallow my anger in silence.
I slammed the instrument in my hand onto the tray, making Korina flinch.
“Korina!” I roared.
Before I could continue, the female patient on the bed suddenly erupted.
She snatched the sheet, wrapping it around her lower body, tears streaming down her face.
Pointing at me, she shrieked:
“You pervert! Even the nurse says you don’t need to undress me, so why are you making me do it?!”
“I’m going to report you! I’m calling the police!”
The hallway outside instantly became agitated, with patients and family members in line peeking in.
“What’s going on? What happened?”
“I heard the doctor was acting perverted, insisting on taking off some young girl’s pants.”
“I told you male gynecologists aren’t reliable, it’s disgusting!”
“Exactly, if there weren’t any female doctors available, I wouldn’t have booked an appointment with him.”
“What kind of man studies gynecology, what are his intentions…”
I took a deep breath, about to explain the medical guidelines, when the door to the examination room was suddenly pushed open with a bang.
Vice Dean Tony walked in, hands clasped behind his back, his belly protruding.
He was followed by several interns eager to watch the drama.
Korina, like a startled bird, rushed towards Tony.
Her eyes instantly reddened, large tears falling freely.
“Dean, Anthony… he yelled at me!”
“I just felt a little sorry for that patient having all her pants off.”
“I just asked one question, and he threw things and cursed at me…”
“And he said… he said he was in charge of this room, and if I couldn’t do the job, I should get out…”
Tony naturally caught Korina by the shoulders.
His fleshy hand rubbed her shoulder for a moment, then he looked at me with an air of official authority.
“Anthony! What’s wrong with you?”
“Is this how you treat a colleague? Where is your medical ethics?”
“Scaring Korina like this, scaring the patient like this, are you a doctor or a thug?”
I coldly watched the despicable duo, working hand in glove.
In my previous life, it was Tony who backed Korina.
Together, they conspired to block my promotion, and eventually climbed over my dead body.
“Vice Dean Tony!”
I deliberately emphasized the “Vice.”
“According to the Ninth Edition of *Obstetrics and Gynecology*, the bimanual examination protocol requires full exposure of the external genitalia.”
“Korina, as a licensed nurse, doesn’t even know this basic common sense?”
“She’s screaming and misleading patients, creating doctor-patient conflict.”
“This incompetent, overgrown child, I don’t know how she even managed to get into this hospital?!”
Tony’s face changed dramatically, the flabby flesh on his face twitching.
He hadn’t expected me, usually so mild-mannered and honest, to dare to contradict him in public.
“You… you dare be insolent!”
“You think you’re in the right? If you can’t even calm a patient’s emotions, how are you fit to be a doctor?”
The patient on the bed became even more agitated, crying out:
“I’m not getting examined! Your hospital is all in cahoots! I’m going to expose all of you!”
Tony immediately put on a fawning expression, bowing and scraping to the patient:
“I’m so sorry, so sorry, our management is too lax.”
“How about this, today’s examination fees are waived, and I’ll personally arrange for a female specialist to see you.”
Turning his head, he glared at me fiercely.
“Anthony, given your deplorable attitude today, and the potential suspicion of sexual harassment,”
“All your VIP special outpatient clinics this week are canceled!”
“Those are for high-end clients, we can’t have someone like you ruining the hospital’s reputation!”
“You report to the ER right now and reflect there on what ‘service attitude’ means!”
Korina, hiding behind Tony, stuck out her tongue at me and mouthed:
[Serves you right].
The surrounding patients and family members pointed and whispered about me.
I looked at the chaotic scene in the room, but my mind was clear.
Go to the ER? Perfect.
If I remembered correctly, this afternoon, the ER would receive a very special patient.
She was Mrs. Anderson, the wife of the city’s wealthiest man. In my previous life, she was the key figure who brought Tony to prominence, and then, due to a misdiagnosis, caused his downfall.
Only in the previous life, Tony found a scapegoat.
This time, I would hold that surgical scalpel myself.
“Alright, I’ll go to the ER.”
Three forty-five in the afternoon.
The piercing siren of an ambulance grew closer, urgent like death’s own summons.
“Quick! Clear the way! Car accident! Closed abdominal injury! Hemorrhagic shock!”
The accompanying doctor shouted hoarsely, pushing a stretcher into the hall.
On the stretcher, an elegantly dressed middle-aged woman had a face as pale as paper, her abdomen visibly swollen.
Blood stained half the sheet, and the blood pressure monitor’s alarm shrieked.
Following closely behind was a well-dressed but disheveled middle-aged man – Mr. Anderson, the city’s wealthiest man.
He grabbed the doctor’s hand and yelled:
“Save her! No matter the cost! You must save her!”
I was about to step forward to admit the patient, but a figure moved faster than me.
“I’m the Vice Dean! I’ll take this!”
Tony had somehow ambled into the ER with Korina.
He instantly recognized Anderson and saw the priceless sapphire bracelet on the woman’s wrist.
This was an enormous opportunity, the perfect ladder to climb among the powerful.
He pushed me aside and rushed to the stretcher, pretending to press the patient’s abdomen.
“Korina! Prepare for IV access! Prepare for ultrasound!”
Korina, still holding the iced coffee she’d just bought to watch me fail, casually tossed it aside and scurried around after Tony. Though clumsy, her voice was loud.
“Oh dear, so much blood! How scary!”
“Dean, you’re truly amazing, you spotted the problem right away!”
Tony fumbled around on the patient’s stomach a few times, then his face showed a flicker of certainty:
“Abdomen rigid as a board, obvious tenderness in the upper left quadrant, this is a classic case of traumatic splenic rupture with severe hemorrhage!”
“Quick! Notify General Surgery! Prepare for exploratory laparotomy and splenectomy immediately!”
He ordered loudly, adopting the air of a renowned physician.
Anderson, hearing a diagnosis, clutched at it like a drowning man:
“Okay! Cut it!”
“As long as she’s saved, cut whatever you need to!”
The surrounding medical staff immediately sprang into action, pushing the stretcher towards the General Surgery operating room.
That’s it! In my previous life, this diagnosis had killed her!
She didn’t have a splenic rupture!
I suddenly lunged forward, gripping the stretcher’s railing tightly, the immense inertia causing the cart to jerk to a halt.
“Don’t go to General Surgery!”
I shouted loudly, my voice cutting through the clamor.
“This isn’t a splenic rupture! This is a ruptured ectopic pregnancy!”
“And it’s an interstitial pregnancy rupture!”
“She needs to be sent to the Gynecology operating room immediately for uterine horn resection to stop the bleeding!”
The entire room fell silent.
Tony’s face twitched with rage.
He rushed over and grabbed my collar:
“Anthony! Are you insane?”
“The patient is fifty years old!”
“She’s probably already menopausal! How could she be pregnant?”
“Are you losing your mind just to steal credit? This is a matter of life and death!”
Korina also covered her mouth nearby, shrieking in feigned surprise:
“Anthony, you’re just disgusting!”
“Earlier in the exam room, you wanted to take off that lady’s pants, and now she’s in shock, and you’re still trying to link it to a female condition?”
“Do you only think about *that* area whenever you see a female patient?”
Her words were venomous.
Anderson’s already anxious face instantly contorted into a snarl.
As a man, hearing such words, his anger ignited immediately.
“You bastard!”
Anderson rushed forward and punched me hard in the face.
I staggered backward, tasting blood in my mouth, but I didn’t even bother to wipe it.
“Mr. Anderson! Listen to me!”
“I’ve observed her vital signs; the abdominal distension is asymmetrical, and there’s a clear mass in the right uterine horn!”
“If the bleeding isn’t stopped immediately, she’ll be in mortal danger within five minutes!”
I tried to rush back to block the stretcher but was firmly restrained by two ER security guards.
“Pull him away! Get this lunatic out of here!”
Tony roared.
“Don’t let him delay the rescue!”
“Anthony, you’re suspended! Get out of my sight!”
Korina hid by the stretcher, watching me being dragged away pitifully, a triumphant, malicious smirk playing on her lips.
She leaned in close to Anderson, thoughtfully offering him a tissue.
“Please don’t be angry, Mr. Anderson. This Anthony has always had a problematic reputation; everyone in our hospital knows it.”
“Don’t worry, Tony is an expert, he’ll definitely save your wife.”
Anderson shot me a look of disgust and spat on the floor:
“Once my wife’s surgery is done, I’ll get my lawyers to destroy you, you quack!”
The stretcher rumbled away, and the operating room door slammed shut with a bang.
The red light flickered on.
I was tossed onto the cold ER floor by the security guards.
Around me were the contemptuous stares of patients and their families, and whispered accusations.
“Is that the pervert doctor?”
“He doesn’t even spare a fifty-year-old, how disgusting.”
“Why hasn’t this kind of person been fired yet?”
I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and slowly stood up, leaning against the wall.
A sense of powerlessness washed over me like a tide.
I knew the truth, I wanted to save her.
But I was crushed by authority and public opinion.
But I didn’t leave.
I leaned against the wall outside the operating room, staring intently at that red light.
I glanced at my watch.
Four fifteen. Ten more minutes.
As soon as Tony opened the abdominal cavity and found the spleen perfectly intact,
While blood poured into the abdominal cavity.
That would be the beginning of his nightmare.
And I had to be here. Because a life was at stake.
Even if misunderstood, even if beaten.
I couldn’t watch her die at the hands of that idiot.
This is what it means to be a doctor.
The hallway outside the operating room was deserted, only Mr. Anderson pacing back and forth anxiously.
Korina, as the scrub nurse, had also gone in. Tony clearly wanted to give her a share of the credit to help her secure a permanent position.
Time ticked by, second by second.
Four fifteen. Four twenty.
Suddenly, the airtight door of the operating room opened a crack.
An anesthesiologist, covered in sweat, rushed out.
He yelled frantically at the nurse’s station:
“Blood bank! More blood! Type AB blood! Quickly!”
Anderson grabbed the anesthesiologist’s arm, his hand trembling:
“What’s going on? Aren’t they doing a splenectomy? Why do you need more blood?”
The anesthesiologist’s face was pale, his eyes darting away:
“The… the bleeding is too massive… can’t find the source of bleeding…”
“What do you mean you can’t find the source of bleeding?!”
Anderson roared like thunder.
Just then, the operating room door opened again.
Dr. Miller, the Director, arrived hurriedly with several specialists, clearly having received a critical report.
“What’s the situation? What is Tony doing?”
The Director demanded, pulling on his scrubs.
I emerged from the corner, my voice hoarse but firm.
“Director, it’s a ruptured interstitial pregnancy.”
“Tony can’t find the bleeding source because he’s been rummaging around the spleen up top, but the bleeding point is in the uterine horn below.”
The Director abruptly stopped, turning to look at me.
He saw the bruises on my face and the blood at the corner of my mouth.
“Anthony? What are you doing here?”
“What you’re saying, is it true?”
“Let me in.”
I met the Director’s gaze, without any hesitation.
“Right now, only I can locate the spot and stop the bleeding within a minute.”
“If I fail, I’ll never practice medicine again, and I’ll serve time in prison as restitution.”
The Director looked at me deeply, with scrutiny and the resolve of a desperate gamble.
The monitoring alarms inside were already echoing in the hallway – the wailing of a heart about to stop.
“Get in! Scrub in!” The Director growled.
Anderson tried to stop me, but the Director silenced him with a look:
“Shut up, unless you want your wife to die!”
I sprinted into the changing room.
In that moment, I felt my blood boiling.
Three minutes later.
I entered the operating room.
The operating table was a scene of hell.
Blood-soaked gauze littered the floor, and the monitors emitted piercing alarms.
Tony, his hands covered in blood, was frantically rummaging around inside the patient’s abdomen.
He had completely broken down, muttering to himself:
“Impossible… why isn’t it there… the spleen is fine… where is the blood coming from…”
Korina cowered in a corner, trembling, instruments scattered all over the floor, too terrified to do anything but whimper.
“Get out of the way!”
I charged forward, forcefully using my shoulder to shove Tony, sending him stumbling backward and falling to the floor.
“You… Anthony? What are you doing?!”
Tony looked at me in terror.
I ignored him, my hands swiftly reaching into the pelvic cavity.
Hot. Scalding blood.
But I didn’t need my eyes; my hands were my eyes.
Countless dissection practices in my past life.
Made my fingertips, the moment they touched that pulsating rupture.
Form a muscle memory.
Found it!
My left hand tightened instantly, gripping the ruptured uterine horn artery.
In that very moment.
*Sizzle—*
The blood that had been gushing violently suddenly stopped.
The blood pressure readings on the monitor, which had been plummeting, finally stabilized.
Then slowly began to rise.
The entire room fell silent.
The anesthesiologist’s eyes widened, looking at me as if he’d seen a ghost:
“Did… did you stop it?”
I looked up, casting a cold glance at Tony on the floor, then at Korina in the corner.
“Did you see that, you quack?!”
“Prepare for uterine horn wedge resection!”
The next ten minutes were my domain.
Excision, suturing, ligation—each movement was precise and flawless.
When I cut the last suture, the patient’s vital signs were completely stable.
From that bloody mess.
I retrieved the culprit.
An abnormally developed embryonic tissue.
Tony lay limp on the floor, his face ashen.
He knew he was finished.
The surgery ended.
I removed my blood-soaked gloves and walked out of the operating room.
Outside the door, Anderson had already learned everything.
This titan of the business world now bowed deeply to me.
“Miracle worker! Anthony is a miracle worker!”
“I’m a fool! I was blind to your talent! I wronged you so terribly!”
“Thank you for saving my wife’s life!”
He cried with gratitude.
I stepped aside, not helping him up, and simply said calmly:
“It’s a doctor’s duty.”
“However,”
I changed the subject, my gaze sweeping past him to Korina, who had just sneaked out of the operating room and was furtively fiddling with her phone.
She was hiding behind a pillar, thinking no one saw her, her fingers rapidly tapping on the screen.
My phone vibrated in my pocket.
A notification from the main group chat.
A cold smirk touched my lips.
“Mr. Anderson, I appreciate your gratitude. But I might be facing trouble again now.”
“Trouble?”
Anderson paused, then rose from the floor.
I took out my phone, opened the hospital’s five-hundred-person group chat, and handed the screen to Anderson.
In the group, Korina had just sent a new message and tagged everyone.
[Korina: I was really scared today.]
[Even though it was to save a life, Anthony was too much in the operating room…]
[How can he just grope around in such a private area? ]
[And keep his hand in there for so long… He looked like he was really enjoying it.]
[Everyone, judge for yourselves, even if the patient was under anesthesia, he shouldn’t take advantage to molest her, right? image.jpg]
Attached was a photo taken from an extremely unflattering angle.
In the picture, my hand was deep inside the patient’s abdominal cavity. Due to the exertion, my expression looked somewhat strained.
But after she added a filter, it genuinely appeared to have a perverted, lecherous quality.
Anderson looked at the phone screen, his face shifting from confusion to disbelief, and finally to a dark, explosive red.
He had been standing right beside me.
He had personally watched me snatch his wife back from the jaws of death.
He had personally seen that nurse terrified and useless in the operating room, yet now she was spreading such malicious lies online.
“Is that… the nurse from just now?”
Anderson gritted his teeth.
I took back my phone and said calmly:
“Yes, she says I was molesting the patient.”
“Mr. Anderson, it seems I’m in for a rough legal battle.”
Anderson spun around abruptly, glaring fiercely at the triumphant figure behind the pillar.
“Fine… very fine!”
“Daring to spread rumors about my wife’s savior, and using my wife’s surgery photo as material for sexual slander!”
Anderson pulled out his phone and dialed a number:
“Get my entire legal department here! I want this b*tch to rot in jail!”
🌟 Continue the story here
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My wife, Chloe, loved to record our intimate moments, especially videos where she played the queen and humiliated me.
I initially disagreed, but she’d always plead:
“Alex, if you truly love me, can’t you even grant me this one request?”
Over three years of marriage, she recorded us over a thousand times.
But the moment Liam, the guy she’d always been hung up on, returned to the country, he uploaded my private videos to TikTok.
The caption read: [Check out this simp! So embarrassing for a guy!]
I demanded a public apology, but he just sneered at me:
“Isn’t that Alex? You’re like a dog in the video, now you’re trying to act all high and mighty? A pathetic kept man who whored himself out for status, do you really think you deserve an apology from me?”
My hands trembled with anger, ready to call the police, but Chloe snatched my phone, chuckling:
“He’s just kidding, Alex. Be a little more laid-back, don’t be so sensitive!”
Watching the constantly climbing hot topics on TikTok,
I suddenly felt that our three-year relationship had to end.
On TikTok’s trending list, the hashtag #Alex Is A Dog# had been stuck at the top for three whole days.
My private videos were viewed, commented on, and reposted by tens of millions.
I stared silently at the screen, my fingers mechanically scrolling.
After a long while, I took a deep breath and called my lawyer.
“Regarding the video infringement.”
“Alex, I’m sorry.”
The voice on the other end sounded a bit awkward: “Chloe said she’s handling this herself and instructed us not to interfere.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means we can’t accept any of your requests.”
I was silent for two seconds, then said calmly, “Okay, I understand.”
I hung up and called three more law firms.
The same reply.
I sat on the couch, staring at the wedding photo on the coffee table.
In the picture, Chloe was nestled in my arms, smiling gently.
She’d said, “Alex, I’ll love you forever.”
Now, her way of loving me was to have my private videos plastered all over the internet.
At eleven PM, Chloe returned.
She saw me still on the couch, her brow furrowing slightly: “Not in bed yet?”
I didn’t answer, just calmly asked:
“What are you planning to do about the videos?”
“The PR department is handling it,” she said, taking off her coat, her tone casual.
“How are they handling it?”
“I’ll issue a statement saying the videos are AI-generated,” she said dismissively, “then get some influencer accounts to clarify, and in a few days, no one will remember.”
I looked at her and suddenly laughed: “That’s your solution?”
“What else?” she frowned. “What more do you want? It’s just a few videos, right? Didn’t you enjoy playing around in them?”
“What do I want?” I repeated softly. “I want Liam to delete the videos and issue a public apology. I want you to give me back my $5 million!”
Chloe’s face instantly darkened: “Alex, don’t push your luck.”
“Push my luck?”
I stared at her, suddenly finding it laughable.
Three years of marriage, over a thousand days and nights of what I thought was intimacy.
She never saved our memories; she saved her trophies.
“Chloe,” my voice trembled with anger, “do you know? What disgusts me most isn’t that my private videos were seen.”
She frowned, a flicker of impatience in her eyes: “What are you trying to start now?”
I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to slap her:
“What disgusts me most is that I’m only now seeing your true colors!”
With that, I kicked the bedroom door and turned towards my study.
Before I closed the door, her furious shout came from behind: “Alex! Stop right there!”
I didn’t look back.
The moment I locked the door, I pounded the wall, venting my rage.
Then, I opened my phone’s photo album and scrolled to the very bottom.
There was an encrypted folder containing photos of Chloe proposing to me.
I gently brushed the screen, then deleted them one by one.
When I reached the last one, my finger paused.
It was our wedding photo.
I was in a suit, she in a white gown, standing at the church entrance.
She’d said, “Alex, you look so handsome.”
I pressed delete, and the wedding photo vanished from the screen.
The next morning, I was woken by noises from the kitchen.
Pushing open the guest room door, I saw Chloe’s back as she bustled around the kitchen.
I froze.
Three years. This was the first time I’d seen her cook.
I stood there for a long time. Then the doorbell rang.
Through the peephole, I saw Liam standing outside, impatiently ringing the bell.
I took a deep breath, gripped the doorknob, and opened the door.
“Well, if it isn’t the kept man,”
He looked me up and down, sneering,
“Up so early, going to serve some sugar mama?”
Before I could speak, he walked straight into the kitchen, embracing Chloe from behind.
“Chloe, what are you making?”
“Breakfast for you,” Chloe’s voice was uncharacteristically gentle.
I stood there, my stomach suddenly churning.
Her first time cooking was for Liam.
I put on my jacket, turning to leave.
But Chloe called out to me.
“Alex, eat breakfast before you go.”
I paused.
Staring at the breakfast on the table, I suddenly remembered when we first started dating.
Back then, I was just a poor student, but she didn’t mind.
I remember the first birthday gift I gave her was a green dress, which I’d saved up for three months working part-time.
But after she saw the price tag, she insisted on returning it.
She smiled and said:
“You are the best gift heaven sent me. Don’t ever waste money on me again.”
Back then, I secretly swore that I would earn a lot of money and give her a happy life.
But now, the woman who once cared for me had even forgotten I was allergic to eggs.
“I’m allergic to eggs,” I said calmly.
Chloe’s face instantly flushed, about to explain.
But I didn’t stop, walking straight out.
At ten AM, I was in my office, processing documents, when a sharp pain flared in my stomach.
Just as I pulled open a drawer to find my stomach medicine, the door pushed open.
Liam walked in and kicked my desk.
“Hey, kept man, Chloe wants to see you.”
I looked up at him, my gaze falling on the ID badge on his chest.
On Liam’s first day back in the country, Chloe had made him President’s Assistant.
A year ago, my mom asked me to arrange for a relative to join the company, but Chloe had repeatedly declined.
“What does she want?” I asked calmly.
“How should I know?” Liam rolled his eyes.
“Anyway, she said to come now.”
I endured the stomach pain and walked towards Chloe’s CEO office.
Although I had initially founded this company, I had gifted all my shares to Chloe.
Pushing open the door, Chloe sat at her desk.
“Sit,” she said without looking up.
I didn’t sit, just stood and watched her: “What is it?”
She finally looked up, her eyes cold: “The video situation has gotten too big. The company’s stock price is affected.”
“So?”
“So,” she pushed a document across, “the board has decided for you to take some time off.”
I picked up the document. It was a suspension notice.
“Suspension?” I laughed. “What’s the reason?”
“Too much public pressure,” she frowned, looking very impatient: “You need to lay low.”
I stared at her, suddenly feeling my stomach ache even more.
She had sent the videos to Liam, and Liam had posted them on TikTok.
Now, she wanted me to pay for their mistake?!
“Okay, fine,” I nodded. “I accept the suspension.”
As I turned to leave, she suddenly called out: “Wait.”
“Something else?”
She hesitated,
“Why don’t you take a trip to Greece, clear your head.”
Greece.
A place I had always wanted to go.
When we got married, she said she wanted to honeymoon in Greece.
But at that time, the company was just starting, and I hoped we’d go once it stabilized.
Later, when the company was stable, she said she didn’t want to go anymore.
Now, she suddenly brought up our missed honeymoon.
I looked at her and suddenly smiled.
“What? You want to get rid of me, afraid I’ll cause trouble at the company? Or are you afraid I’ll get in the way of you and Liam’s little romance?”
“You…”
“Don’t worry,” I cut her off. “I won’t bother you.”
Because it wasn’t worth it.
The moment I closed the door, I heard something shatter inside.
I didn’t look back.
Returning from Chloe’s office,
my workspace had been cleared, and Liam sat in my chair.
“You’re back!”
I ignored his provocation, just going to the drawer to retrieve my personal items.
After taking a cab home, I found the front door password had been changed.
I called Chloe. It rang for a long time before she answered.
I asked, “The password’s changed?”
“Yeah,” she paused, “Liam hasn’t found a suitable place yet, so he’s moving in with us. He thought the old password was hard to remember, so he changed it.”
I gripped my phone.
Three years ago, when we moved into this house.
Chloe had linked her arm through mine, smiling and saying:
“Let’s use our wedding anniversary as the password. That way, you’ll never forget.”
Now, because Liam said it was hard to remember, she had erased our wedding anniversary.
“Anyway, you’re going to Greece for vacation, so changing the password won’t affect you,” she continued on the phone.
I took a deep breath:
“I can go to Greece, but I’m taking Judy with me.”
Judy was my Ragdoll cat, I’d had her for three years, she’d been with us since we got married.
The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds.
“Judy…”
Her voice suddenly became unnatural:
“Liam is allergic to cat fur, so I had someone take her to a pet hotel.”
“Which pet hotel?”
She said, “The one by the complex entrance. Just go to Greece first, we’ll talk when you get back!”
I hung up and went directly to the pet store by the complex entrance.
“Excuse me, did Chloe board a Ragdoll cat here?”
The clerk shook her head:
“No, Chloe hasn’t been here in a long time.”
I stood there, suddenly feeling a chill run through me.
I went to several nearby pet stores, and the replies were all the same.
Finally, I went to the vet clinic.
The vet saw me, his expression a bit troubled.
“Alex, what brings you here?”
I went straight to the point: “I’m here to pick up Judy.”
The vet’s face changed: “Judy? She…”
“What about her?”
The vet lowered his head:
“When Chloe brought her in, she said the cat was very sick.”
I staggered back a step, feeling the whole world spin.
“She lied!” my voice trembled uncontrollably. “Judy was fine before I left the house!”
The vet didn’t dare to look at me:
“Later, Liam came to handle it. He said the cat was too noisy, affecting his rest, and requested euthanasia.”
Judy, my cat of three years, was euthanized because she was too noisy.
Walking out of the vet clinic in a daze, I took out my phone and called Chloe:
“Judy is dead!”
The other end was silent for a long time.
“Alex!”
She finally spoke, her voice somewhat flustered:
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t know?”
I cut her off:
“Didn’t know Liam would kill my cat? Or didn’t know I’d find out?”
“Chloe, do you know?”
“When Judy died, she must have been so scared. She must have wondered why I didn’t come to save her.”
With that, I hung up the phone.
I stood at the vet clinic entrance, holding Judy’s urn, memories flooding back like a vivid montage.
The first day I saw Judy, I had failed in my startup, sitting on the couch, covering my face, silently weeping.
When Chloe returned, she held a box in her hand.
She smiled and said, “Alex, this is for you.”
Inside the box was a tiny Ragdoll kitten.
“Her name is Judy,” she said, “I hope she can make you happy.”
Later, every time I worked late into the night, Judy would lie on my lap.
Every time I was too stressed, she would rub her head against me.
Every time Chloe and I argued, she would jump into my arms, as if comforting me.
Now, she was gone.
Just like my feelings for Chloe.
“Judy,”
I whispered:
“I’m sorry. I didn’t protect you.”
I wiped away my tears:
“I promise you, I will make those who hurt you pay the price.”
My phone suddenly rang; it was my mom.
Her voice, choked with tears, came through:
“Alex, I saw the news online.”
My nose stung, and my eyes welled up.
Mom’s voice was choked but firm:
“No matter what happens, your dad and I believe in you.”
I took a deep breath: “Mom, I’m fine. Those videos are AI-generated; it’ll be resolved soon.”
Mom suddenly said:
“If you’re unhappy, just come home. I know starting your own business alone in New York is hard. Your dad and I will always welcome you back.”
I stood by the roadside, and tears finally fell.
It had been three years. This was the first time I’d cried.
In this world, someone still loved me unconditionally.
“Okay,” I said softly.
I hung up the phone and looked at the wedding ring on my hand.
Chloe hadn’t worn hers in a long time.
It was time for me to take mine off too.
I took a deep breath and removed the ring.
Then I called a local delivery service.
I put the ring in a parcel box and sent it to Chloe.
After the courier left, I went to a hotel.
As soon as I entered the room, Chloe’s call came through.
I didn’t answer.
After it rang three more times, I just turned my phone off.
When I turned it back on an hour later, there were 23 missed calls, all from Chloe.
And over a dozen text messages:
[What does the ring mean?]
[Answer the phone!!]
[Alex, I’m giving you one last chance]
[Fine, then don’t regret it]
The last one was sent five minutes ago.
I scoffed, a cold laugh escaping me, and with a tap of my finger, deleted her contact.
At eight PM, there was furious pounding on the door.
“Alex! Open up!”
It was Chloe’s voice.
I looked through the peephole; she stood at the door, her face dark.
“I know you’re in there,” her voice was icy, “Open the door, let’s talk.”
I didn’t move.
“Alex,” she knocked on the door, “Don’t make me get nasty.”
I still didn’t move.
“Fine,” she sneered, “You think hiding will solve anything?”
“I’m telling you, I’ve frozen your accounts.”
“All your money is in my hands.”
“Without me, you can’t even afford this hotel!”
“Open the door right now, or…”
“Or what?” I spoke through the door.
She froze for a moment, then grew angrier: “Or you won’t get a single cent!”
“Oh,” I said, “Then don’t give it.”
“Chloe,” I said softly, “Do you know?”
“The one thing I’m never short on is money.”
“Alex!” she exploded, “Open the door for me, now!”
“You…”
“Chloe,” I cut her off, “If you don’t leave, I’m calling the police.”
“The police?” she scoffed, “Go ahead! Let’s see who dares to intervene!”
I took out my phone and dialed 911.
“Hello, I have someone harassing me here.”
Before I finished speaking, I heard footsteps outside the door.
Then the sound of the elevator closing.
I hung up.
I opened my laptop and logged into my email.
Three years ago, I gave up a Ph.D. opportunity, focusing solely on starting a business to make money for Chloe. My mentor once told me:
“Alex, with your abilities, you shouldn’t just be your wife’s assistant. You can always come back.”
Now, it was time to go back.
I sent an email to Professor Clark:
[Professor, is there still a position available for the project you mentioned three years ago?]
Then I made a call.
“Jeff, can you help me check Chloe’s recent call records?”
The other end was silent for a few seconds.
“Okay.”
Jeff was my college roommate and the champion of a national hacking competition.
Back then, I had helped him secure a coveted position at a prestigious research institution.
After hanging up, I dialed another number.
“Marta, it’s me.”
The voice on the other end immediately became excited: “Alex! You finally contacted me!”
Marta was a classmate from college, now a partner at a renowned law firm.
Back then, I had helped her get established at SKY Group; now it was her turn to help me.
“Marta,” my voice was calm, “I need your help.”
“Tell me,” she said immediately, “What do you need?”
“Help me prepare divorce papers.”
The other end was silent for a few seconds.
“Alex,” her voice was slightly choked, “You finally came to your senses.”
Hanging up, I walked to the window, looking at the distant SKY Group building.
Those lights, one of them used to shine for me.
Now, I was going to shut them down, one by one.
🌟 Continue the story here
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🔍 search for “363457”, and watch the full series ✨!
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The day before our wedding, Mason suddenly demanded I buy him a Mercedes.
He looked utterly helpless. “You’re pregnant and can’t work. Buying a new car is just for my job, and to make it easier to take care of you and the baby.”
To help me, my mom used all her life savings.
But three months after we got married, Mom was diagnosed with stomach cancer.
I begged Mason for help, but he refused.
“You’re already asking me for money right after getting married!” he said. “You think having my child gives you leverage over me? Honestly, I’m not short on women who’d have my kids!”
I worked desperately to earn money, but Mom still passed away.
On the way back from the funeral, I overheard Mason talking to a woman.
“Turns out poor people are all the same, always calculating,” he said. “I thought Mia was different from other women, but she’s just after my money! I lost the bet. Pick out whatever car you want.”
So he’d been pretending to be poor all along.
And marrying me was just a bet.
But when I finally gave up all hope and turned to leave, he cried and fell to his knees, begging me not to go.
“I told you before, poor people have no genuine feelings!” the woman, Tiffany, said smugly, snuggling into his shoulder. “I just feel bad for you, getting played. She showed her true colors after only three months. How boring.”
I couldn’t see Mason’s expression, only that he calmly swiped his card.
“A bet’s a bet. I misjudged her this time,” he said. “It doesn’t matter anyway. Mia’s pretty and has a good figure. I’ll just consider it like keeping a call girl for two years. No loss there.”
Tiffany couldn’t hide the joy on her face as she pulled Mason into the new car.
I knew that car dealership all too well.
During the months Mom was sick, I worked there part-time as a mechanic, eagerly taking on every dirty, exhausting job I could find.
I was actually coming back now to pack up my things and quit.
Watching that flashy, limited-edition Ferrari peel out of the lot, I slowly approached.
Sarah, the car salesperson, was still beaming and chattering away.
“That’s the son of our city’s richest man!” she said. “Casually dropping millions on a luxury car. I don’t even want to work hard anymore. Marry a guy like that, and you’d instantly save yourself ten years of effort!”
I stood there, clutching Mom’s urn, frozen for a long time.
Mr. Davies, my supervisor, settled my remaining wages, sighed, and patted my shoulder.
“My condolences,” he said. “If you ever want to come back, you’re always welcome here.”
Less than two thousand dollars–not enough for even half a day of Mom’s medical bills.
Now it was all I had left in the world.
I trudged home, completely distraught.
My landlord, Mr. Henderson, was waiting at the door.
“Mia, you’re two months behind on rent,” he said. “The deposit won’t cover it if you can’t pay up soon.”
I forced a weak smile, clutching the cash in my hand.
“There’s been an emergency,” I said. “I can’t pay. I’ll move out as soon as possible.”
Mr. Henderson’s eyes held a hint of amusement.
“Bought a new place?” he asked. “I saw your husband driving a luxury car home the other day. You two certainly keep things under wraps, don’t you?”
I lowered my head with a bitter smile, unsure how to explain, just as Mason stepped out of the elevator.
He spotted me, clicked his tongue impatiently, and carelessly tossed his bag at me.
Mr. Henderson immediately spoke to Mason.
“If you terminate your lease early, the deposit isn’t refundable,” he said. “You’ll also need to pay these two months’ rent. I know you two aren’t short on cash. Don’t make this difficult for me.”
After Mr. Henderson finished speaking, Mason shot me a cold glare.
“You didn’t pay the rent?” he said. “Waiting for me to bail you out, huh? Mia, do you really have to stoop so low? Your schemes are practically hitting me in the face. Is it really worth it for a little cash?”
I replied almost instinctively, “Yes, it is.”
My mom’s half-million dollars, saved over a lifetime, was nothing but pocket change to him.
Yet that money, or the lack thereof, had literally dragged her to her grave.
He scoffed, pulled a wad of cash from his bag, and slapped it hard against my face.
“Here, how much do you want?” he said. “I’ll give it to you!”
Bills fluttered to the floor.
Days ago, I would’ve swallowed my pride and scrambled to pick them up.
But now they meant nothing to me.
I counted out two months’ rent, handed it to Mr. Henderson, and opened the door to go inside.
Mason and I had lived in this apartment for two years; every corner held traces of our life together.
My gaze fell on a photo on the wall–two slightly awkward figures, leaning close, smiling radiantly.
It was the first photo we’d taken when we first got together.
After graduation, in the breakroom of my internship company, he told me he was an intern in another department.
I still remembered how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, bright and innocent, claiming he knew nothing and needed my guidance.
I couldn’t forget his youthful innocence.
He sought me out, and I couldn’t help but fall for him.
I truly wanted a good future with him, so I worked desperately, striving for a full-time position, trying to make a stable life for myself in this city.
For two years, we supported each other, comforted each other, slowly building our story in this apartment.
But now everything had dissolved into thin air.
All my hopes for the future were just a rich kid’s elaborate game.
A ridiculous feeling spread through my heart.
Mason didn’t notice anything different about me and simply sat on the couch.
“Satisfied, Mia?” he said. “Finally got your money, feeling good about yourself? Your greed is disgusting. How did you become like this? You used to have some integrity. Think about it, how many times have you asked me for money these past few months? All for a Mercedes, and you completely showed your true colors. Were all your talks about working hard and our future just empty words?”
I looked at him.
He was different now, dressed in a sharp, tailored suit, his hair meticulously styled.
He clearly wasn’t going to keep up the act anymore.
The disappointment and helplessness in his eyes pricked at me.
I didn’t respond to his accusations, just said faintly, “Let’s get a divorce, Mason.”
A strange silence stretched for a long time before Mason suddenly laughed.
“Shouldn’t I be the one saying that?” he said. “To get me to pay that half-million, you’d even lie about your mom having cancer? You know I hate being lied to! Two years wasted. I was clearly blind. If anyone’s getting a divorce, it’s me calling it.”
His voice was filled with anger.
He pulled a paper from his bag and signed it directly.
“Get over here, sign it, and let’s get this done,” he said. “I don’t have time to waste on you.”
So he’d been prepared all along.
I carefully placed the paper box containing Mom’s ashes and her photo on the cabinet.
Then I walked slowly toward Mason.
I took the pen and signed, without hesitation.
Out of the corner of his eye, he was eyeing me up and down.
I felt nothing but disgust and weariness.
After I signed, he scoffed and tossed a bank card onto the floor.
“Your money’s all in there, untouched,” he said. “Consider these two years a gift from me. I misjudged you.”
I looked back at him, really looked at him.
I remembered just a few days ago, when Mom was critically ill, she’d whispered that she wanted to see Mason, to know we were okay.
He’d already lost patience with me after I’d begged him for money, but for Mom, I swallowed my pride and called him.
It took a whole night to get through, and when he finally picked up, I was met with a torrent of mockery.
“Calling for money again?” he said. “What’s the excuse this time?”
I suppressed my anger and whispered, “Mom’s not doing well. Could you… just come see her once, let her know we’re okay? That’s all.”
Suddenly, a loud laugh erupted on the other end.
“Wow, your storytelling has really improved,” he said. “You think I’ll pity you, believe you, and transfer you money now? I’m not a fan of this act. Go practice some more. Next time, come up with something more touching, and maybe I’ll actually fall for it.”
The call was disconnected.
When I tried to call back, he’d blocked my number.
He never came, not even when Mom passed away.
I couldn’t forget the last words Mom said to me.
She said, “When you have a baby, I won’t be able to help you during your postpartum period. That’s a crucial time for a woman, and I wanted to tell him to treat you well.”
“Couples need to understand each other,” she said. “He’s a good boy. You two should live a good life together.”
Until her last moment, Mom wanted Mason and me to stay together.
But Mom didn’t know that the day after I begged Mason for money, he dragged me to a forced abortion.
He said he wouldn’t be threatened by a child and wanted to crush any hopes I had.
Right after the abortion, I had no time to rest.
Hounded by hospital bills, I worked non-stop odd jobs, day and night.
What was he doing then?
Partying it up every night with other women?
Or venting to his buddies about how I’d supposedly ‘schemed’ against him?
I couldn’t even feel angry anymore, only sad and ridiculous.
I picked up the card.
It held the money Mom had saved her entire life–it was hers, and I needed to get it back.
As I picked up the card, Mason let out a disdainful scoff, clearly sneering at my actions.
I ignored him, secured the card, and started packing.
Half a million dollars–enough to buy Mom a proper urn and a decent burial plot.
The thought brought a familiar pang of sadness to my nose, and my eyes welled up.
I’d never been one to cry easily.
I hadn’t cried while caring for Mom, or even after she passed.
Until now, I’d always thought that if I just tried harder, maybe everything would turn around.
But the pain had only been delayed.
Only now was the reality of Mom’s absence slowly sinking in.
Tears slowly streamed down my face, and my hands trembled uncontrollably as I packed.
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Mason went to open the door, and I looked over.
The person was familiar–it was Sarah, the car salesperson from the dealership, the ‘little white flower’ who’d driven away in the new car.
I saw her smile at Mason.
“Mason, I was worried she might get desperate and pull something crazy,” she said. “Cornered poor people can be terrifying, you know. Is the agreement signed? I’m here to take you home.”
Mason’s gaze instantly softened.
“You’re always so thoughtful,” he said.
Tiffany looked down and chuckled, then her gaze landed on me.
“Pleasure to meet you,” she said. “I’ve heard Mason talk about you often. I honestly thought you might be different from other lower-class people, but it turns out you’re just a terrible actress, a clumsy liar. Oh, and the ‘dutiful daughter’ act? Now that you have your money back, you can drop it. Go ahead, raise your mom from the dead. Wouldn’t want those ‘unlucky’ words to actually come true, right?”
Her mocking tone, her disdainful gaze–the anger coiling in my chest finally snapped.
Saying things about me was one thing, but about my mom? I wouldn’t tolerate it.
It was almost instinct.
My hand flew out, landing a punch squarely on her face.
By the time Mason roared, Tiffany was already sprawled on the floor.
“Mia, are you crazy?” he yelled. “Did I hit a nerve? Do you even know who you just hit?”
Did it matter who she was to the person I was now?
I had nothing left to lose.
I ignored his threats, dragged Tiffany up, and slapped her hard again.
But before I could finish, several burly men in black suits burst through the door and pinned me to the floor.
Tiffany scrambled up, looking disheveled, and burst into tears, burrowing into Mason’s arms.
“Mason, I’m okay!” she sobbed. “I provoked her on purpose! I already recorded her hitting me with my tiny camera. I can press charges right away!”
Pinned to the ground, I couldn’t move an inch, only watch her through gritted teeth.
She pulled out a tiny camera from her neckline and gave me a sinister smile.
“It’s all recorded now!” she said. “Mason, you *have* to get revenge for me!”
Mason stared at me, his face grim.
He slowly took off his shoe, patted my face with it mockingly, then swung his hand back.
The pain arrived as expected–a harsh, stinging slap.
My tears instantly welled up and spilled over.
A flicker of regret crossed his eyes, but his gaze was full of disappointment.
“I never thought we’d end up like this,” he said. “You were almost there, almost passed my test. But at the last moment, you showed your true colors.”
“We did have two years together, and I truly loved you once,” he continued. “This slap is just Tiffany returning the favor. Let’s just part ways. You and I, we’re simply not meant for the same road.”
Tiffany, still held back, sounded indignant.
“Mason, you’re too soft-hearted!” she said. “That’s why this gold-digger had you wrapped around her finger. Look at her, still unrepentant. If she knew your real identity, she’d probably be on her knees begging to get back with you.”
Mason looked down at me, his eyes full of pity, as if he felt sorry for me.
Yet in our two years together, he’d never once given me a gift.
Instead, I’d been constantly struggling to meet his demands.
Maybe that was another part of his ‘test,’ but truly, I owed him nothing.
I spoke coldly to Mason.
“Is it fun to play with someone’s genuine feelings?” I asked. “In this relationship, I never owed you anything. Maybe I wasn’t ‘good enough’ for a rich heir, but you have no right to insult me.”
“From beginning to end, you’re the only one who wronged me.”
No sooner had I finished speaking than another angry slap landed.
“I wronged you?” he shouted. “I spent two years on you! Do you honestly think those cheap little things you gave me can buy back two years of my youth? You know I’m a rich heir! Do you even comprehend how valuable my time is, someone like you?”
Mason’s face flushed crimson with anger, and Tiffany beside him laughed, clearly enjoying the show.
“Mason, didn’t I tell you?” she said. “These people are hopelessly unrepentant. You try to give her an inch, and she’ll take a mile.”
🌟 Continue the story here
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I lost both my parents at ten and was raised by Payton.
He helped me overcome my mutism and turned down every relationship for my sake. I thought this was love.
On my eighteenth birthday, I gathered the courage to kiss him.
But he pushed me away. “I’m your brother. Even though we’re not blood-related, what you’re doing is disgusting.”
Three months ago, he brought home his arranged fiancée, Sophia
They held hands. Embraced. Kissed. Right in front of me.
When Sophia had an allergic reaction and was hospitalized, he accused me of poisoning her.
“Go home and kneel. Give the Williams family an explanation.”
I knelt in the pouring rain all night.
Later I found out the allergy was her own staged performance, and her fall at the banquet was self-inflicted too.
But what did it matter?
By then, I’d already bought a one-way ticket to the Gobi Desert.
On the night of the birthday banquet, I left him a letter.
“I don’t love you anymore.”
1.
Lily’s POV
“Professor, I’ve made up my mind. I’m ready to go to the Gobi.”
On the other end of the line, the professor’s surprise quickly gave way to relief.
“Are you sure? The conditions in the Gobi are extremely harsh.”
I gripped my phone, my knuckles turning slightly white.
“I’m sure.”
“But your brother has always doted on you. I doubt he’ll agree to let you…”
I cut off the professor’s words, my voice softening.
“Don’t worry, he’ll agree.”
“Good. Make sure you talk it over with him properly. The departure date is in two weeks.”
After hanging up, I looked at the framed photo on my nightstand.
In the photo, seventeen-year-old Payton stood with ten-year-old me on his back at a mountain summit. He turned his face toward me, the mountain wind tousling his hair.
Our two families had been close friends for generations. The year my parents died in a plane crash, the Sterling family took me in. But losing my parents caused me to develop mutism. I didn’t speak a single word for three whole months.
The two Sterling elders were busy with official duties and had no extra time to focus on me.
It was Payton who took my hand and said, “You still have me. I’ll always be here to take care of you.”
And he really did.
He picked me up and dropped me off at school. Always sat in the front row at parent-teacher meetings. Braided my hair, clumsy but gentle. Stayed up all night when I had nightmares.
He even turned down several relationships for my sake, saying, “Lily isn’t ready to accept a new family member yet.”
Under his gentleness and patience, I finally spoke again. I grew more and more dependent on him, making him my entire world.
But somewhere along the way, that dependence changed its nature.
On the night of my eighteenth birthday, Payton threw me a coming-of-age party that stunned the whole city.
At that party, he, who never touched alcohol, broke his rule and drank.
After the celebration ended, I helped the drunk Payton home.
As he leaned back on the sofa with his eyes closed, I leaned down and gently kissed the corner of his lips.
Payton’s eyes flew open. He pushed me away, his eyes filled with disbelief and shock.
“Do you even know what you’re doing?”
“I know.”
I gathered my courage and confessed my feelings.
“I like you.”
“This is absurd!”
It was the first time he’d been this angry with me.
“Everyone knows we’re siblings!”
“We’re not blood-related. How does that make us siblings?”
“I’m your brother in name!”
“So what?”
“Lily!”
He was livid, as if I’d committed some grave sin.
“I’m seven years older than you! You’re only eighteen. What do you know about liking someone?”
I remained stubborn.
“Eighteen is legal adulthood. I’m an adult now, so of course I know what it means to like someone!”
Seeing me counter his every argument, his expression darkened. “Ridiculous!”
That argument ended with Payton slamming the door and leaving.
From then on, Payton’s attitude toward me grew increasingly cold.
He came home less and less frequently. For matters concerning me, he no longer handled them personally but sent the butler instead.
But even so, I never gave up.
Every year on his birthday, I carefully prepared gifts and earnestly confessed my feelings to him.
Payton never responded.
I thought that no matter how cold he was or how much he refused to respond, I would keep on liking him.
Until three months ago, when Payton suddenly agreed to an arranged marriage and brought his marriage partner, Sophia, home.
That night at dinner, Sophia sat in what used to be my seat, gently serving Payton food.
I couldn’t believe it. I questioned him privately, asking if he’d deliberately agreed to the marriage just to force me to give up my feelings for him.
But Payton said coldly, “You’re overthinking it. We’re getting married because we’re well-matched, and we’ve reached the age for marriage.”
“I’ve also reached the age for marriage!”
For the first time, my eyes reddened in front of him.
“Payton, why won’t you like me?”
“Because you have no idea what real affection is!”
After that, Sophia appeared at the house frequently.
They held hands, embraced, kissed-intimate and affectionate.
It made me feel like all my years of affection were nothing but a laughable case of unrequited love.
Last night at two in the morning, I got up for water. Passing by the study, I heard faint sounds coming from inside.
The door was ajar. I saw Payton and Sophia by the desk, intimately close, with ambiguous sounds spilling out.
I covered my mouth and retreated to my room, sliding down against the door until I sat on the floor. I cried all night.
In that moment, I finally understood-some things, if they’re not mine, I can’t force them to be.
So I decided to let go of my feelings for him and leave his side.
I’d clung to him for so many years. He must have been fed up with me long ago.
I was about to leave for the Gobi soon. I wouldn’t bother him like I used to. He’d probably be relieved when he found out.
2.
Lily’s POV
I pulled my suitcase and opened my bedroom door, suddenly hearing the faint sound of a lock turning from the master bedroom across the hall.
My breath caught, and I froze in place.
Payton pushed his door open and stepped out.
He wore a light gray cashmere sweater and casual slacks. His hair was still slightly damp, as if he’d just showered.
The morning light streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window at the end of the hallway, gilding him in a thin golden outline.
For a moment, I felt like I’d returned to the past.
Those mornings when he hadn’t yet distanced himself from me-he would always appear like this, fresh and clean, ruffling my hair and asking if I’d slept well.
But the next second, his gaze swept over to me and landed on my suitcase.
“Going somewhere?”
“…Yeah.”
I pressed my lips together and looked away.
Payton’s brow furrowed slightly.
“Where?”
“Back to campus to stay for a few days.”
I didn’t mention that I’d be leaving for the Gobi in two weeks. After all, he’d find out once I was gone.
Payton looked me over.
“Why would you suddenly want to go back to campus?”
Because I wanted to make room for Sophia. I didn’t want my presence to get in their way.
But before I could answer, Payton stepped forward, grabbed my suitcase from my hand, and ordered, “You’re about to start your internship. There’s no need to go back to campus. Stay home. You’re not moving out.”
With that, he domineeringly placed my suitcase back in my bedroom.
He looked almost afraid I might leave.
I froze, but quickly dismissed it as overthinking. How could Payton possibly be afraid of me leaving?
He only forbade me from returning to campus out of habit-treating me like a “little sister.”
“Miss Lily, breakfast is ready.”
The butler’s voice called from downstairs, breaking my daze.
In the dining room, an elegant breakfast was already laid out on the long table.
Payton sat at the head, a financial newspaper spread before him, a cup of black coffee at his side.
He ate gracefully, his movements refined. Even the sound of turning pages was soft.
I sat down diagonally across from him.
“Payton!”
A crisp female voice suddenly rang out from the foyer. My fingers trembled, and my spoon clinked against the bowl.
Sophia walked in with a bright smile, went to Payton’s side, and leaned down to kiss his cheek.
“Did I keep you waiting? Traffic was a bit heavy.”
Payton set down his newspaper and naturally put his hand on her waist.
“No rush. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”
“Not yet. I wanted to eat with you.”
Sophia sat down beside him, and a servant immediately added a set of utensils.
Throughout the whole process, no one glanced at me.
I sat there like a ghost in my own seat, watching their natural, intimate interactions.
Sophia served Payton a piece of bacon. Payton poured her milk. They spoke in low voices, occasionally exchanging smiles.
That intimacy was like fine needles piercing my eyes.
I lowered my head, staring at the porridge in my bowl that had already gone cold. Suddenly, the dining room felt unbearably crowded-so crowded I couldn’t breathe.
“By the way, Lily,” Sophia suddenly turned toward me, as if just noticing my presence. “We’re going skiing today. Do you want to come with us?”
I froze, instinctively shaking my head.
“I…”
“Don’t refuse so quickly. You’d be so bored at home alone.” Sophia’s tone was light. “Payton, let’s bring Lily along, okay?”
Payton looked up at me. His gaze was calm and indifferent as he said flatly, “Since Sophia invited you, come along.”
One sentence-but it felt like a dull knife slowly cutting open my heart.
He didn’t care whether I’d feel awkward. He didn’t care whether watching him be intimate with someone else would hurt me.
I didn’t want to torture myself, so I tried to decline.
But Sophia came over at that moment and enthusiastically linked her arm through mine.
“Then it’s settled! Lily, you won’t refuse me, will you?”
3.
Lily’s POV
Sophia was too enthusiastic. The refusal on the tip of my tongue never made it out.
In the end, I sat in the passenger seat of the Maybach while Payton and Sophia sat together in the back.
“Payton, do you remember the last time we went skiing? I took such a bad fall, and you laughed at me.”
“Yeah, I remember. Later at the hot spring inn, you complained all night about your sore knee.”
“Don’t tease me about that…”
Listening to their conversation from the back seat, my hands twisted together on my lap, my nails digging into my palms.
So he had all these shared memories with someone else too.
That tenderness, that companionship-they weren’t exclusive to me.
Halfway through the drive, Sophia seemed to finally remember there was another person in the car. She suddenly asked with a bright smile, “Lily, do you know how to ski?”
I tensed up and glanced at the rearview mirror. The handsome man in the back seat furrowed his brow slightly, a fleeting emotion passing through his eyes.
I forced a curve to my lips.
“Yes.”
“Oh?” Sophia sounded interested. “When did you learn? Did you teach yourself, or did someone teach you?”
I’d known how to ski since I was fifteen. And the person who taught me was sitting right beside Sophia.
But after two seconds of silence, I said, “I learned from an instructor at the ski resort.”
At those words, the man in the back seat frowned even more deeply, his expression darkening slightly.
When we arrived at the ski resort, I was putting on my protective gear.
Payton walked up to me, his tall frame bringing an oppressive presence.
“Lily, since when did you learn to lie?”
I looked up.
“What?”
“You learned to ski from a resort instructor?”
His handsome face was clouded with displeasure.
“Why lie?”
I lied only to avoid Sophia misunderstanding anything and affecting their relationship.
But I didn’t understand-this was such a trivial matter. Why was Payton so upset about it?
Just as I was about to explain, Sophia’s voice called from the other side.
“Payton, come help me. I think there’s something wrong with my gear.”
Hearing that, Payton warned me coldly, “If you lie again and develop those bad habits, see if I don’t punish you.”
Then he turned and walked toward Sophia.
I watched his retreating figure. Watched him help Sophia with her gear, checking her equipment.
That gentle, careful, considerate side of him-he used to show it only to me.
I forced myself to stop watching them and found a gentle slope to ski on alone.
“Lily!”
Before long, Sophia skied over to me.
I glanced behind her, but she was alone.
“No need to look. Payton went to get us hot drinks.”
Sophia stopped in front of me, removed her ski goggles, and revealed a face with delicate makeup.
“Payton really is something, putting all his attention and energy on me and just leaving you here alone. He’s being unreasonable.”
I stopped as well and smiled.
“It’s fine. You’re his fiancée. It’s only right that he takes extra care of you.”
“But watching him treat me well must hurt you, doesn’t it?”
Sophia’s eyes suddenly carried undisguised scrutiny and provocation.
I frowned slightly.
“I don’t understand what you mean.”
“Heh.”
Sophia let out an extremely soft laugh, one laced with mockery, completely different from her gracious demeanor in front of Payton.
“You understand. You understand better than anyone.”
I froze.
“The way you look at him-you can’t hide it.”
Sophia smiled smugly.
“Too bad it only makes him feel burdened. He told me himself that you’re too emotionally complicated, and sometimes he doesn’t know how to deal with you.”
Emotionally complicated… doesn’t know how to deal with…
So when he talked about me to others, that’s how he saw me-even as a burden.
“He’s just too responsible. Because your families have been friends for generations, and he pitied you for losing your parents, he had no choice but to take care of you all these years.”
My fingers curled as I pressed my lips tightly together.
“But it’s just responsibility. Lily, do you understand? He takes care of you out of responsibility. Nothing more.”
Sophia leaned closer, lowering her voice.
“We’re getting married soon. If you’re smart, you’ll gradually learn to distance yourself from him. Leave yourself some dignity.”
I listened quietly, then slowly smiled.
“You’re right.”
4.
Lily’s POV
Sophia froze.
I continued with a smile, “He’s taken care of me all these years only out of pity. So you don’t need to be threatened by my existence. After all, you’re already his fiancée.”
Sophia was about to say more-
“Watch out! Move!!”
A terrified shout suddenly came from the steep slope in the distance.
A snowboarder who’d clearly lost control was hurtling straight toward us at breakneck speed.
“Lily! Sophia!!”
Payton’s panicked shout rang out almost simultaneously.
“Get out of the way!”
Everything happened in a split second.
I had no time to react. Sophia, standing diagonally in front of me, let out a scream of terror.
The next moment, a figure came charging from the side, wrapped in wind and snow spray, at incredible speed.
It was Payton.
He rushed to Sophia’s side, extended his arm, pulled her into his embrace, and together they stumbled toward the safety zone.
I stood less than a meter from Sophia, but he didn’t spare me even a glance.
Then a massive force slammed into me. A muffled grunt caught in my throat.
Everything spun. I was knocked off the ski run, rolled several times in the snow, tumbled into the forest barrier, and finally hit the back of my head hard against a tree trunk.
In an instant, my vision went black. I lost consciousness.
When I woke up, I was in a hospital room.
The nurse changing my IV bag glanced at me when she heard movement.
“You’re awake. How do you feel?”
All I felt was a dull throb in the back of my head and aches throughout my body, like I’d been taken apart.
“You have a mild concussion and multiple contusions. Lucky for you, no fractures. Just lie still and don’t move around. You’ll need to stay for observation for a couple days.”
After giving her instructions, the nurse turned and left the room.
I closed my eyes again to rest, but then I heard the envious voices of nurses outside.
“Mr. Sterling is so good to Miss Williams. She just got a little scared, and he’s been by her side the whole time…”
“I heard the Sterling and Williams families are about to have an arranged marriage. Of course he’d be attentive to his fiancée, right?”
“But that girl in the next room…I heard she’s Mr. Sterling’s sister? She’s injured so badly, even has a concussion, and he barely even comes to check on her…”
The voices gradually faded.
I sat up, pulled the needle from the back of my hand, and got out of bed.
The dizziness was intense. I leaned against the wall for a while before slowly shuffling out of the room.
The door to the VIP room next door was ajar. Through the crack, I saw Payton sitting by the bed, gently and attentively feeding Sophia fruit.
“Payton,” catching sight of me outside the door, Sophia suddenly grabbed his hand, her eyes glistening. “I was so scared today… If you hadn’t gotten there in time, I…”
“It’s okay.”
Payton patted her back, his voice soothing.
“It’s over now.”
Sophia nestled into his arms, flashing me a victorious smile, then said as if casually, “I heard Lily woke up. Don’t you want to go check on her?”
“I hired a caregiver for her. The caregiver will look after her. You were frightened and need rest. I’ll stay here with you.”
As his words fell, I lowered my lashes.
I didn’t go in to disturb them. I turned and walked back to my room, supporting myself against the wall.
Lying back in bed, I pulled the covers over my face.
I remembered when I was fifteen and hospitalized with a high fever. Payton postponed an important international conference and stayed by my bedside for two full days and nights.
Delirious with fever, all I remembered was him wiping my forehead with warm water over and over, coaxing me softly, “I’m here. Don’t be afraid.”
Back then, his eyes were so gentle-gentle as if he wanted to place the whole world before me.
But now, I was injured and hospitalized right next door, and he didn’t even have the time to glance my way.
Maybe this was for the best.
He’d agreed to an arranged marriage now and had a fiancée. We should distance ourselves.
My phone vibrated. I picked it up. It was a text from Payton.
“You’re awake? How do you feel? Do you need anything?”
I stared at the message, my finger hovering over the screen.
A few seconds later, I turned off the screen without replying.
5.
Lily’s POV
Late at night, the hospital room door was pushed open.
I heard movement through my drowsy haze. When I opened my eyes, Payton’s dark silhouette stood by my bed.
He spoke.
“Did I wake you?”
I shook my head and said nothing.
Payton glanced at the gauze wrapped around my forehead, his brow furrowing.
“Does it still hurt?”
“Not too bad.”
Silence spread between us.
After a pause, Payton said, “Lily, that situation was so sudden. I saved Sophia because…”
“I understand. You don’t need to explain.”
I cut him off, lowering my lashes.
“Miss Williams is your fiancée. It’s only natural that you saved her.”
But before, he’d always put me first. Even if it meant getting hurt himself, he’d protect me without a scratch. He couldn’t bear to let me get even the slightest injury.
Payton’s feelings were unclear.
I said calmly, “Did you come all the way here in the middle of the night just to say this?”
“I remember you’re very good at making soup,” Payton said slowly, somewhat reluctantly. “You have your own special recipes.”
That was because he worked long hours with irregular meals. I was afraid he’d develop stomach problems, so I consulted countless sources and asked several doctors.
After trying countless times, I finally figured out the foods and flavors that suited his taste and were best for his stomach.
“Sophia hasn’t had much of an appetite these past couple days. She’s not feeling well and wants some soup. She tried yours once before and thought it was quite good, so she asked me to come ask you…”
Before he could finish, my heart sank and my chest tightened painfully.
“I’m injured and still hospitalized, and you want me to make soup for her right now?”
Payton paused, a flash of discomfort crossing his expression. Then he said, “Not you. Just give me the recipe. I’ll have someone make it and send it to her.”
I stared at him for a long moment, then finally nodded without a word. I found paper and pen, wrote down the recipe, and handed it to him.
Payton opened his mouth.
“Lily…”
“You should go.”
I smiled. “Don’t keep Miss Williams waiting.”
The next morning, when the hospital room door was urgently pushed open again, I was staring out the window in a daze.
Payton strode in, his expression darker than I’d ever seen.
I had a bad feeling.
“What happened?”
“Sophia’s in the emergency room!” he said directly, his voice ice-cold. “Full-body allergic rash, difficulty breathing!”
I froze. “How could that happen?”
“That’s what I should be asking you!”
Before I could react, Payton threw a crumpled piece of paper at me-the recipe I’d written last night.
“Why was she fine drinking it before, but this time she had a severe allergic reaction?”
Payton stared at me, his gaze sharp as a blade.
“What exactly did you add to this recipe?”
I instinctively protested.
“I didn’t add anything. This is the same recipe I always used. I don’t know why she had an allergic reaction.”
“You don’t know?”
Payton’s eyes simmered with barely suppressed rage.
“The kitchen followed your recipe exactly. Now she’s lying in the emergency room, and the whole household is in chaos! And you think ‘I don’t know’ is enough?”
“If you don’t believe me, you can test the recipe…”
“But the Williams family demands an explanation now!”
Payton’s face was cold and severe as he said darkly, “They say that at the ski resort, I saved her but not you. They claim you can’t tolerate her because of that, so you deliberately tampered with the recipe. They want you to pay the price! Otherwise, this won’t end!”
I stiffened, understanding his implication.
“So? How will you give them an explanation? Hand me over to the Williams family, or to the police?”
Payton’s jawline tightened. He was silent for several seconds-seconds that felt like an entire century.
“Pack up,” he finally spoke.
“Go home and kneel outside the gate.”
6.
Lily’s POV
Payton actually wanted me to kneel?
Before I could process my shock, two bodyguards in black burst into the hospital room. They grabbed my arms from both sides and roughly dragged me from the bed where I was still receiving an IV.
“What are you doing? Let me go!”
I couldn’t believe it.
“Payton, how can you convict me without investigating first?!”
I struggled with all my might, but with my strength, how could I possibly move two burly bodyguards?
In the end, I was forcibly taken out of the hospital, shoved into a car, and escorted home.
Outside the gates of Sterling Manor, Payton stood tall, his expression as still as a frozen lake.
The Sophia’s parents stood nearby, their gazes stabbing into me like thorns.
He spoke in a low voice.
“Kneel.”
My whole body went cold. “Why should I?”
“Because you’re vicious and nearly killed Sophia!”
Sophia’s mother shrieked.
“Payton, this is the fine sister you raised!”
Payton’s jaw tightened. He shot a look at the bodyguards.
They understood. They pressed down hard on my shoulders.
I fought back with everything I had, only to be restrained even more brutally.
My kneecaps slammed hard into the cold, unforgiving stone pavement. Searing pain exploded through me.
Payton walked up to me, looking down from above.
“Apologize.”
I gritted my teeth and looked up at him.
“Payton, I didn’t try to harm her!”
Payton’s brow furrowed deeply. He turned to the Williams parents.
“You can rest assured. She’s here and will kneel until Sophia is confirmed safe. This is the Sterling family’s accountability to the Williams family.”
Sophia’s mother wanted to say something, but Sophia’s father pulled her back.
They had originally demanded that Payton hand me over to them, but Payton had said unequivocally that he would personally seek justice for Sophia and absolutely refused to hand me over.
“Payton, Sophia is still lying in the emergency room. I hope you truly mean what you say. Don’t go soft halfway through just because she’s the sister you raised.”
“You can rest assured. I’ll have someone watch her here and record everything.”
With that, he clapped his hands. Immediately, bodyguards set up a tripod in the distance, aiming a camera lens directly at me.
Only then were the Williams parents satisfied.
Watching the Williams parents and Payton turn and get into their cars and leave, bone-deep coldness swept through my heart.
I tried several times to struggle to my feet, only to be pushed back down mercilessly by the bodyguards standing watch.
“Mr. Sterling said you can’t get up until you’ve knelt long enough!”
Realizing resistance was futile and accepting reality, I stopped struggling.
The rainstorm came without warning.
One second the sky was overcast, the next second massive raindrops came crashing down, instantly turning into a torrential downpour.
Icy rain poured over me, soaking through my thin hospital gown in seconds. My hair and clothes clung to my skin.
Cold.
Bone-piercing cold drilled into me through my knees, crawling up through my bones. I couldn’t stop shaking. My teeth chattered uncontrollably.
I vaguely remembered the year I first came to the Sterling house. It had rained like this too.
I was afraid of thunder and hid under my blanket, crying.
It was Payton who pushed open my door, scooped me up blanket and all, gently patted my back, and said, “Lily, don’t be afraid. I’m here.”
And now, the one making me kneel in the thunderstorm was also him.
I pulled my lips into a faint smile.So this was what true heartbreak felt like.
The sky turned from day to night. I didn’t know how long I’d been kneeling, only that my body had grown stiff and numb, like a piece of wood.
My consciousness began to slip away under the assault of cold and pain.
Then darkness came.
Just as I lost consciousness and fell forward, I thought I heard a man’s panicked voice.
“Lily.”
My body didn’t hit the cold stone ground.
Someone caught me.
The man’s embrace was scorching hot. It carried a familiar scent. And a barely perceptible…tremble.
How laughable.
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Sitting on the plane, I still felt dazed.
I never thought that after five years abroad, I would have the chance to come back.
After all, Orion had said that in this lifetime, I’d better never appear in front of him again.
But it was also he who personally bought me a ticket back home, inviting me to attend his and Melissa’s wedding anniversary celebration.
After two layovers, I finally landed.
Uma had been sleeping peacefully on the plane, but once we got off, she started crying.
“Mommy, my feet hurt,” she whimpered softly.
Hearing Uma’s quiet sobs, I quickly picked her up and walked towards the exit.
At the arrival gate, I turned on my phone, ready to call a cab.
Just then, my phone rang.
Seeing the familiar number on the screen, I fell silent, unsure whether to answer or not.
In the end, I didn’t pick up.
But a second call came through almost immediately.
I sighed and finally answered.
Orion’s voice quickly came through.
After years without talking, his voice hadn’t changed.
“Are you out of the airport? I sent an assistant to pick you up,” Orion said in a businesslike manner, as if we were strangers.
I laughed bitterly, “I can get a cab myself.”
There was silence for a second; Orion probably didn’t expect me to say that.
After all, back then, I had been well taken care of by him. During my years by his side, all my needs were met – I never had to worry about transportation.
After a moment of silence, Orion spoke casually, “Let the assistant come anyway. I bought a gift for Melissa on your behalf, it’s in the trunk. You can bring it directly when you come for dinner.”
Orion was still so thoughtful, considering even the gift situation perfectly.
Of course, when he spent millions on the venue and commissioned a limited edition diamond to create a unique wedding ring for Melissa, it was clear how much he loved her.
“Alright,” I said, rubbing my forehead and responding softly.
Orion didn’t say anything more, but he didn’t hang up either.
After a while, Orion finally spoke: “Yara, after five years abroad, I hope you’ve really reflected on things. If you do anything to Melissa, I won’t let you off easy.”
Hearing this, I was stunned.
The noise around me seemed to fade away.
Orion said he wouldn’t let me off easy.
Before I could respond, Orion had already hung up.
Actually, Orion could rest assured. I wouldn’t do anything to them.
I just wanted to take good care of Uma and find a job.
As I left the airport, I lowered my head.
The proud 22-year-old me probably couldn’t have imagined that my life would end up in such a miserable state.
I was sent abroad by Orion on my 22nd birthday.
That day, Orion discovered my diary.
When I was young, my parents died in a cruise ship accident and never returned. Orion naturally took over my care.
My relationship with him had always been harmonious.
Until I became an adult, I realized I didn’t just see Orion as an uncle.
I liked him.
But I also knew very clearly that there was no future between Orion and me.
So I wrote all my feelings in my diary.
If Orion hadn’t seen my diary, I probably could have pretended that my feelings for him were just those of a niece for her uncle.
But Orion saw it.
He tore up my diary and asked me how I could have such disgusting thoughts.
“Don’t you know I’m your uncle! Even without a blood relation, we can only be family!”
The usually gentlemanly and refined Orion was no longer gentle, shouting at me with disgust in his eyes.
At that time, I wanted to explain, but couldn’t explain anything. In the end, I could only keep bowing and apologizing, saying I was wrong, that I shouldn’t have fallen for him.
But Orion didn’t calm down.
The next day, he resigned from the job I had lined up, and under the guise of studying abroad, sent me to a remote university overseas.
To prevent me from contacting the outside world, Orion even hired bodyguards to watch me.
At first, I didn’t understand why Orion treated me this way.
Until the first month after I went abroad, news of Orion’s marriage went viral.
Only then did I realize that all these years, he had always had someone in his heart.
I watched Orion’s wedding video over and over again.
In the video, when looking at Melissa, Orion’s gaze was gentle and loving.
He had never looked at me that way.
From that moment on, I knew that Orion keeping me by his side for so many years was just out of sympathy and responsibility.
His only love was Melissa.
“Miss John, please get in the car,” the assistant’s voice brought me back to reality.
I nodded and got into the car with the sleeping Uma.
When he saw Uma, the assistant’s face showed a hint of surprise: “Miss John, this is…?”
I made a shushing gesture, afraid our conversation would disturb Uma’s sleep.
After sitting in the back seat, I answered softly: “This is my daughter.”
The assistant nodded and fell silent.
When he drove to our destination, I was stunned.
This hotel was where Orion and Melissa got married.
Five years of marriage, he held a wedding anniversary celebration every year, and personally selected gifts for Melissa.
I thought, Orion really cherished Melissa.
In previous years, he didn’t allow me to enter their world. Inviting me back this year was probably just to let me witness their happiness.
I numbly got out of the car and saw Melissa smiling as she walked towards me.
Unlike my haggard appearance and simple clothes, Melissa wore expensive jewelry and perfume, looking well-cared for by Orion.
Melissa’s smile suddenly froze.
I knew she had seen Uma in my arms.
Sure enough, when she came to my side, Melissa’s expression was very surprised: “Yara, how did you secretly have a child abroad without telling me? I’ve been married to your uncle for so long, you still treat me like an outsider.”
Before I could speak, Melissa took Uma from my arms without asking.
Uma woke up and immediately started crying, struggling not to let Melissa hold her.
I took Uma back from Melissa and comforted her for a while.
Actually, Melissa knew about my past crush on Orion.
Returning this time, I didn’t want to get too involved with Melissa.
But Melissa still stubbornly wanted to hold Uma.
When Melissa and I arrived at the hotel’s private room, Uma was still crying and wanting me to hold her.
Melissa forced a smile and handed Uma back to me: “Your uncle knows having children isn’t easy. We haven’t thought about having kids these past few years. Seeing you’ve had a daughter, I got too excited.”
There were already several people sitting in the room.
I wasn’t used to socializing, so I chose a corner seat, and Melissa sat down next to me.
She enthusiastically linked arms with me, introducing me and Uma to the others.
The looks others gave me were visibly teasing and probing.
I couldn’t stand the strange atmosphere here and said I wanted to go to the restroom.
When I came back after washing my face, I heard Melissa’s voice.
Someone asked Melissa why she brought in an unlucky thing like me.
“What unlucky thing, Yara is Orion’s sister. Although she went down the wrong path and tried to seduce Orion before, now that she’s had a child, she definitely won’t make mistakes again.”
Hearing Melissa say this, I just quietly stood at the door of the private room.
Yes, in others’ eyes, I was just a madwoman who tried to seduce her uncle, a shameless slut.
Uma tugged at my clothes uneasily, and I comforted her before entering the room.
Some things have to be faced eventually.
I don’t know how long passed, but suddenly everyone in the room stood up.
“Mr. John is here!”
“Hello, Mr. John!”
A group of people crowded around him, while I didn’t move, just sitting in my seat.
After a long time, I finally raised my head and looked at Orion.
He seemed to have lost some weight.
Orion wore a suit, with Melissa leaning on him. When they looked at each other, their eyes were full of smiles.
Orion was surrounded by people and didn’t notice me in the corner.
All these years, he who should have been the center of attention still was, while the only one not doing well was me.
Suddenly, Melissa seemed to remember something and pushed Orion with a smile: “Orion, Yara is here too. You uncle and niece haven’t seen each other for so many years, catch up a bit. Yara even brought back a surprise!”
Hearing the word “surprise”, Orion remained unmoved, first helping Melissa sit down and ordering her a glass of milk before raising his eyes to look in my direction.
Uma shrank into a ball, looking very wary.
Orion obviously saw Uma too, his eyes widening suddenly.
“Yara, what is this?”
He was asking about Uma.
I hadn’t told them about Uma, so when they saw me with her, their expressions were all the same – either surprised or looking like they were watching a show.
Melissa spoke for me: “Orion, this is Yara’s daughter. Isn’t she cute? She looks just like Yara and seems to be a few years old already.”
Orion’s gaze fell on Uma, then on me, examining me for a while.
Just when I thought Orion wouldn’t pay attention to me anymore, he asked hoarsely, pointing at Uma: “During these years abroad… you got married and had a child?”
I raised my head, looking directly at Orion, and nodded.
“I got married a while ago. Sorry I didn’t tell you.”
It was very quiet around, no one spoke.
Orion stared at me, as if trying to judge whether my words were true or false.
Melissa seemed about to say something, but Orion had already come to stand in front of me: “Where’s your husband?”
I pursed my lips: “He’s busy recently, so he didn’t come.”
Whispers and snickers sounded around the room, though these guests seemed to restrain their laughter out of respect for Orion.
Orion’s face was aJohn, but in the end he didn’t say anything, just sat down next to Melissa.
This meal, I ate without tasting anything.
Everyone else was praising how well-matched Orion and Melissa were, while I just wanted to take Uma to rest early.
The rent here wasn’t too expensive, I could still afford it.
I didn’t want to go abroad again.
The meal ended quickly.
I wanted to leave, but Orion stopped me, saying he had something to tell me.
In the end, Orion and I stayed in the private room.
Melissa was there too.
Orion looked at me coldly, his words as emotionless as his expression.
“Yara, since we all have our own families now, I hope you won’t come to bother me in the future.”
Melissa covered the smile at the corner of her lips: “Orion, don’t say that to Yara. She’s a grown woman now, she knows what she shouldn’t do.”
The couple sang in harmony, looking particularly in sync.
And I was excluded from this synchronization.
They never believed the promises I made.
But I still nodded and bowed: “I won’t in the future.”
They didn’t say anything, and I had already turned to leave with Uma in my arms.
Orion called his assistant to send me off, but this time I refused.
After returning to the rental apartment with Uma, she suddenly asked me quietly if the uncle and aunt today disliked her.
They say children are perceptive and know everything.
I shook my head: “They don’t dislike Uma.”
They just dislike me.
Uma looked like she had many questions she wanted to ask me, but in the end she didn’t, just hugged me and said, mom, you’ve worked hard.
The tears I had held back all day seemed about to fall at this moment.
But I couldn’t cry in front of Uma.
So I tilted my head back, holding back the tears.
After putting Uma to sleep, I suddenly received a text message.
The sender was Melissa.
“Yara, if you have time, let’s talk.”
I frowned and told her she could just text me directly.
But Melissa didn’t send any more messages.
Just before bed, I received a call from Melissa.
“I’m downstairs at your place. I just want to ask you one thing.”
“Do you have any thoughts of going abroad again recently? Orion and I actually both hope you’ll continue to stay abroad. And your husband is abroad too, right? It’s better for you to go abroad.”
I was a bit confused at first, but after realizing, I found it a bit funny.
The only thing that could make Melissa contact me late at night was probably just this.
They both hated me to this extent.
They couldn’t even stand being in the same country as me.
I glanced at Uma sleeping beside me.
After going downstairs, I indeed saw Melissa standing under a streetlight.
Standing in front of her, I took a deep breath before looking directly into her eyes: “I don’t plan to go abroad.”
Even if just for Uma’s sake, I won’t take her on such a tiring journey again.
Melissa laughed lightly.
With no one else around, her gaze finally showed undisguised contempt.
“Yara, I know you’re very short on money now. What if I could give you a sum of money, would you be willing to go abroad?”
I was silent for a moment.
The fact that I was short on money was already common knowledge.
Melissa and Orion knew I had a hard time abroad, so when threatening me, they were also very clear about my weakness.
But I refused.
Melissa seemed a bit surprised.
That night, Melissa and I parted on bad terms.
For the next few days, I was busy looking for work, but I would be rejected after the first round of interviews every time.
It wasn’t until a young interviewer hesitantly told me that this was Ms. Cheng’s order that I realized Melissa didn’t even want me to find a job.
Melissa was determined to make me go abroad again.
After being stunned for a long time, I thanked the interviewer who told me the truth.
Just as I left the interview company, I received a text message from the hospital.
Last night, I had made an appointment at the hospital, wanting to get some antidepressants.
During the consultation, the doctor told me that my recent condition was very poor and I should consider doing more psychological counseling sessions.
Back when I was abroad, doctors had given me similar advice.
It seemed my depression had indeed become very serious.
As I was leaving the clinic looking at the prescription instructions, I accidentally bumped into someone while passing a corner.
“I’m sorry…”
I apologized first, but when I looked up, I found that the person standing in front of me was Orion.
And behind him was Melissa.
Orion frowned, seemingly not intending to talk to me, and was about to leave directly.
At this time, Orion suddenly noticed the medicine in my hand.
“Yara, what are you doing at the hospital?”
He seemed to want to see what I was holding, but I had already quickly stuffed the medicine box into my bag: “I just caught a cold recently, came to buy some medicine.”
Melissa chimed in at the right moment: “There are indeed quite a few people getting the flu lately.”
But Orion didn’t speak, still staring at my bag.
I lowered my head and quickly went downstairs.
The encounter with Orion was not in my expectations.
In the past, I always wanted to see Orion, but he was always busy.
Before going abroad, I could count on one hand the number of times I met with Orion. Most of the time, he would only occasionally send me a couple of messages.
After going abroad, Orion simply didn’t contact me at all.
Unexpectedly, after returning home, when I really didn’t want to run into Orion anymore, I could bump into him.
I’ve had depression for a long time.
At the worst times, I experienced severe somatization symptoms and even thought about jumping off a building, but I still gritted my teeth and lived on.
When I got home, Uma was waiting for me in the living room.
Uma didn’t sleep well last night, so I decided to take her to bed early.
But just as we were finally starting to feel a bit drowsy, I smelled something burning.
Uma was sound asleep, completely unaware of anything wrong.
At first, I thought the neighbors had just burned their food, but as the burning smell got stronger, I finally realized something was wrong.
Suddenly rolling out of bed, I stood by the window and saw thick smoke rising into the sky.
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Ever since I saw that unsent Instagram draft on River’s phone, I changed completely.
When he worked night shifts, I stopped waiting up.
When his clothes carried unfamiliar perfume, I stopped asking questions.
When he explained that running into his first love was just a coincidence, I said flatly, “I believe you.”
In the car accident, he instinctively shielded Clara in the passenger seat. I was in the back, my face covered in blood from the impact.
At the gallery, he threw himself toward Clara without a second thought. I stood there, cut by shattered glass, no one caring.
At the fire scene, he rushed in recklessly to save her. I stood outside and took off the engagement ring he’d just placed on my finger.
I left a breakup note on the coffee table, flew to Africa, and disappeared into the crowd.
Three months later, he tracked me down to the savannah like a madman, his eyes red. “Winona, you’re the one I actually love.”
I looked at him and smiled. “River, I don’t care anymore.”
Winona’s POV
Ever since I saw that unsent Instagram draft on River’s phone, I became a completely different person.
When he worked night shifts until dawn, there was no longer a light waiting for him at home.
When he spent over ten hours straight in the operating room, I stopped texting to ask if he was tired.
When his shirts occasionally carried traces of unfamiliar perfume, I stopped asking about it.
Even when acute gastroenteritis struck me in the middle of the night and I dragged myself to the ER alone, when the nurse quietly asked, “No family member with you?”
I simply said, “I don’t have any family.”
The nurse looked down at her computer, then glanced at me again. “You’re… the director’s girlfriend, right? I saw you at the hospital gala last time. The director is working the night shift tonight, just upstairs. Should I call him?”
River was the youngest director this hospital had ever had. I hadn’t expected to be recognized.
“No need,” I closed my eyes. “Don’t disturb him at work.”
The nurse seemed like she wanted to say something but ultimately just arranged for me to stay in the observation room.
Half an hour later, the observation room door swung open.
River walked in wearing his crisp white coat, his palm habitually pressing against my forehead, his brow furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t you just call me when you got sick?”
His palm was warm, with that familiar touch.
In the past, even with just a mild headache, that warmth would have been enough to help me sleep peacefully.
I turned my head away, avoiding his touch. “It’s just acute gastroenteritis. Some IV fluids and I’ll be fine. It’s not a big deal.”
River’s hand froze in midair.
He wanted to say something, but conversation from the hallway interrupted him, growing closer.
“The director really cares about that Miss Clara in the VIP room… It’s just an appendectomy, but he personally performed the surgery, and he visits her every single day after, staying for ages.”
“I heard that Miss Clara is the director’s professor’s daughter, and they used to date?”
“No wonder the director treats her so specially. It’s already eleven at night, and didn’t the director just go up to see her again?”
The voices faded with the footsteps, leaving an awkward silence.
River’s expression changed.
“Don’t pay attention to that gossip,” he said, almost reflexively. “Clara is my professor’s daughter. Before he died, he asked me to look after her. She has no family in this city. As her doctor, it’s my responsibility to take extra care of her.”
“Mm.”
I acknowledged with a sound and said nothing more.
This response somehow irritated River. “You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you.” I turned to look at him. “You’ve always been a responsible doctor. It’s right to take care of your patients.”
River froze, suddenly at a loss for words.
In the past, he always found my insecurity annoying and would explain impatiently, “Clara and I are ancient history. Now I only see her as my professor’s daughter. Can you stop being so sensitive?”
Now I’d finally become what he wanted-not sensitive, not questioning, not angry.
His frown deepened. He was about to speak when a soft thud came from outside the door.
Clara stood in the doorway, leaning on an IV pole, her face pale as paper, the hem of her hospital gown stained with red from blood backing up into the IV line.
“River…” She bit her lip, her voice weak. “I heard from the nurse that Miss Winona was hospitalized too…”
“Why are you out of bed?” River rushed over to support her, his tone both reproachful and concerned. “Didn’t I tell you that you must stay in bed and rest?”
Clara leaned weakly against him. “I was worried about Miss Winona. I wanted to come see her…”
River sighed helplessly, scooped Clara up in his arms, and said to me over his shoulder, “I’ll take her back to her room first. I’ll be right back to stay with you.”
His silhouette carrying Clara disappeared into the white light at the end of the hallway.
I stared at the needle in the back of my hand, remembering River’s unsent Instagram post.
The caption read: “Being by your side feels like going back to the past.”
In that moment, I woke up as if from a dream. I finally understood. Deep in River’s heart, he had never truly let go of Clara.
I suppressed the sharp pain in my chest, picked up my phone, and opened the unread email.
I replied, “I have carefully read the email and am willing to accept this three-year photography expedition to Africa.”
Winona’s POV
By the time the IV finished, the sky was already showing its first light.
River never returned.
I called the nurse myself, had the needle removed, declined the suggestion to stay for observation, and walked alone through the empty hallways.
The smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils, and I suddenly remembered many years ago, also at a hospital, also on a cold morning like this.
Back then, I was accompanying my mother for chemotherapy.
After my mother fell asleep, I crouched in the stairwell, completely breaking down, not daring to make a sound, burying my face in my knees, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
Suddenly, a pair of clean, slender fingers handed me a pack of tissues.
I looked up and saw River in his white coat. His features were refined and handsome, his expression gentle as he comforted me. “Don’t cry. Your mother will get better.”
The first time I met him, I remembered that voice and those beautiful eyes.
Later, when my mother passed away, I found a note under her pillow while sorting through her belongings. It had a phone number written on it, with a small line of text beside it: “If you need help, you can call this number. River.”
I never called that number, but I carefully kept the note in the pocket of my wallet.
The second time I met him was at a gathering a friend organized.
River sat in the darkest corner of the booth, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top two buttons, gold-rimmed glasses resting on the table.
He drank alone, the surrounding commotion seemingly unrelated to him.
My friend pushed me over. “That’s Dr. River. Like you, he’s single. You two should have a good chat.”
As I approached, River looked up.
The moment our eyes met, his gaze clearly wavered. “Have we met before?” he asked.
I took out that yellowed note from my wallet.
River stared at it for a long time, so long I thought he’d forgotten that first meeting, before I heard him say, “So it was you… You actually kept this note?”
“Yes.” I replied softly. “Thank you for that.”
That night he drove me home. In the car, he suddenly spoke. “Winona, want to be with me?”
My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would leap out of my chest.
But I held back the impulse and asked him, “Why… so sudden?”
“I just think you’re a really good person.” He paused. “And you like me, don’t you?”
I did have different feelings for him because of that first meeting.
The note he left me had been a sliver of warm light in my darkest, saddest moments.
Only later did I learn that the reason he was drinking alone that night was because he’d just broken up not long before.
Clara had been the one to end it.
Simply because Clara was going abroad to further her studies and felt long-distance was too difficult, she broke up with him directly.
Clara left decisively, completely uncaring about River’s humble attempts to salvage the relationship.
I wasn’t unaware that when he started a new relationship at that time, it wasn’t because he liked me that much, but because he wanted someone to help him move on from his dead-end romance with Clara.
But even so, I still agreed to be with him.
I always believed sincerity could be met with sincerity.
As long as I was good enough to him, loved him enough, eventually he would completely let go of Clara, with only me in his heart and eyes.
In reality, during the four years we’d been together, River was a competent boyfriend.
He remembered all my food aversions, remembered my monthly cycle, remembered my birthday and all our anniversaries. His gifts and restaurant reservations were always thoughtfully arranged.
My friends always envied me, saying thoughtful men like River were nearly impossible to find even with a lantern to light the way.
I also thought I’d truly entered his heart.
But a month ago, Clara suddenly returned to the country. A phone call came through, her voice tearful, saying her father was critically ill and she was alone at the hospital.
After that, everything changed.
Not only did he come home later and later after work, but his clothes always carried traces of unfamiliar perfume. Even in the middle of the night, when Clara dreamed of her deceased father and became sad, he’d grab a jacket and rush out.
Because of Clara, we started arguing frequently.
I felt like a paranoid, resentful woman. While despising myself, I couldn’t help asking him again and again with red eyes, “After all these years, have you still not forgotten her?”
He grew increasingly impatient, blaming me for being sensitive and suspicious, saying he only took care of Clara to fulfill his professor’s dying wish.
For a time, I thought maybe I really was being too sensitive and suspicious.
Until I accidentally saw that unsent draft post on his phone.
At that moment, my world completely shattered.
My heart felt like it was being cut with knives, unbearably painful, yet instead of fighting or making a scene, I completely gave up hope.
Winona’s POV
When I got home, it was already full daylight.
The house was quiet, just as it had been when I left for the ER.
Suddenly, my phone rang.
“Is this Miss Winona?” A capable female voice came through. “Regarding the three-year ecological photography expedition to Africa, we need final confirmation. Have you really thought this through? The conditions in the African wilderness are extremely harsh, and you’ll need to be away from family and friends for an extended period.”
I gripped my phone. “I’ve thought it through.”
“Alright, we’ll handle the visa on our end. We just need you to provide some documents. The departure date is set for the fifth of next month. Is that okay with you?”
The fifth of next month-two weeks from now.
I responded, “No problem.”
After ending the call, I looked around every corner of the house.
I’d decorated this home bit by bit.
When I moved in four years ago, it was empty with only the most basic furniture.
I spent so much effort choosing curtain colors, selecting sofa styles, filling the balcony with plants, hanging my photography work on the walls.
I used to think this would be my forever home with River, that we’d live here together for a very long time.
But now, soon I’d be leaving forever.
I pulled out my suitcase and was halfway through packing when the door opened.
River stood in the doorway. Seeing my open suitcase, he froze. “What are you… doing?”
I paused. “Nothing much. Just felt like the house had too much stuff. It’s been a while since I did a clean-out, so I’m throwing away things I don’t use or need anymore.”
He was about to ask more when his phone suddenly rang.
It was a special ringtone.
His expression shifted slightly. He picked up his phone and walked to the balcony to answer.
“Just got home. What’s wrong?”
I continued organizing my camera equipment, pretending not to hear.
From the balcony, River’s lowered voice came in fragments.
“The wound hurts? Is it infected… Don’t worry, I’ll come check on you right away… Okay, I know, just lie down and don’t move…”
After the call ended, River walked back, his expression somewhat complicated.
I’d already finished cleaning my last lens and was carefully placing them into specially protected cases.
I looked up with a smile. “What’s wrong? Something at the hospital?”
“It’s Clara…” River hesitated. “She said her wound suddenly hurts a lot. It might be infected. I need to go check on her.”
I looked at him and suddenly felt like such a failure.
Four years-over a thousand days and nights of companionship and devotion-couldn’t earn a man’s wholehearted love.
I nodded. “Then go quickly. Wound infection is no small matter. You can’t delay.”
“Winona, I…”
“Go on.” I’d already stood up, zipping up my camera case. “Miss Clara needs you most right now. Don’t keep her waiting.”
In the past, if I heard he was going to see Clara, I would definitely have asked with red-rimmed eyes, “You just came back from the hospital. There are other doctors. Do you really need to go?”
But now, I just smiled and even reminded him not to keep Clara waiting.
“I’ll be back as soon as possible.” River nodded. “Let’s have lunch together, okay? At that new Japanese restaurant you’ve been wanting to try.”
I smiled. “Sure. But if you get held up there, it’s fine. I can take care of myself.”
River opened his mouth to say something but ultimately said nothing, turning and leaving the bedroom.
I stood there, listening to the sound of the car engine starting and gradually fading away.
Then I continued packing.
Winona’s POV
At noon, River didn’t come back. I received a text from him.
“Clara’s wound is indeed a bit infected and needs treatment. I might be late getting back. Eat lunch yourself, don’t wait for me.”
I looked at that text, my finger hovering over the screen for a few seconds, then I turned off the screen without replying.
The day Clara was discharged happened to be my birthday.
River had mentioned it to me a few days in advance.
“Clara just lost her father not long ago, and she doesn’t have any relatives or friends here. I want to throw her a birthday party, to lift her spirits and improve her mood.”
I was organizing my equipment list for the Africa trip. Without looking up, I said, “Sure, do you need me to help arrange it?”
River paused. He’d expected me to be unhappy. “You don’t mind?” he asked tentatively.
“Mind what?” I looked up. “Throwing a party for a friend is perfectly normal. Besides, Miss Clara’s had it pretty rough-her father just died, and she had surgery and was hospitalized herself.”
He didn’t let me help arrange the birthday party.
On the day itself, everyone who attended were old classmates Clara and River had in common.
As River’s girlfriend, I was naturally on the invitation list too.
After too much drinking, the atmosphere grew lively.
“I’m just saying,” a tipsy guy stood up with his glass, “our director and Miss Clara were the best couple at medical school back in the day! I want to see them drink while gazing into each other’s eyes!”
The private room instantly erupted with jeering.
River frowned. “Stop it. Winona’s here.”
“What about Winona?” another girl chimed in. “Winona’s super chill! Right, Winona?”
Everyone looked at me.
I said casually, “Go ahead and play. It’s a birthday-having fun is what matters most.”
Amid the jeering, River and Clara picked up their glasses.
The two stood very close, close enough to smell each other’s breath.
Clara’s face was flushed, her eyes bright as she looked at River, while River’s expression was complicated, his gaze involuntarily drifting toward me.
I held up my phone, taking photos.
After they finished drinking, the room filled with applause and whistles.
River set down his glass, his first reaction to look at me.
I’d already put away my phone and was chatting with someone nearby.
“Winona…” River walked to my side, lowering his voice. “Just now…”
“The photos came out really well.”
I turned my phone screen toward him, showing the photo I’d just taken, the image frozen on the moment River and Clara drank their crossed toast.
“Look, the lighting and composition are both good. Miss Clara’s white dress photographs beautifully.”
River was speechless.
Halfway through the party, I got up to use the restroom.
Coming out of the restroom, I ran into Clara in the hallway.
“Miss Winona.” Clara stopped me, an apologetic look on her face. “About earlier… I’m sorry. Everyone was just playing around. Please don’t take it to heart.”
I turned to look at her. “Why would I take it to heart?”
Clara was caught off guard, pausing before saying, “I mean… River and I really are just friends. Please don’t misunderstand…”
“I haven’t misunderstood.” I smiled. “You’re friends, old acquaintances, each other’s youthful memories. I know all that.”
I turned to leave.
“Wait!” Clara suddenly called out.
I stopped but didn’t turn around.
“He has a hidden album on his phone. The password is my birthday. It contains all our memories.” Clara’s voice carried a hint of triumph. “Winona, you’ve been with him for four years. Has he ever created a dedicated album just for you?”
My body stiffened.
But I didn’t turn around. “So what?”
“So…” Clara walked in front of me, looking at me. “So he’s never forgotten me. Winona, these four years, you’ve just been keeping him company in my place.”
Winona’s POV
I laughed. “Miss Clara, we’re all adults. There’s no need to play these games. If you want him, go fight for him. You don’t need to come show off to me about how special you are to him.”
Leaving Clara with an ugly expression, I walked away.
When I returned to the private room, River was looking for me. “Where did you go? You were gone so long.”
“I ran into Miss Clara and we chatted for a bit.”
I sat down and took a sip from my glass.
River frowned. “What did you talk about?”
“Nothing much.” I smiled. “She just told me you have a hidden album on your phone, and the password is her birthday.”
A flash of unease crossed River’s eyes. “Winona, let me explain…”
“No need to explain.” I interrupted him. “That’s your privacy. I respect that.”
River stared at me.
“Winona, something’s really off with you.” River grabbed his coat. “Come on, let’s go home and have a proper talk!”
“But the birthday party isn’t over yet…”
“Let’s go!”
He pulled me up without allowing any argument, said goodbye to everyone, and left the private room.
As soon as we got in the car, someone knocked on the window.
River lowered the window. Clara stood outside, her long hair gently lifting in the night breeze.
She bit her lip. “Everyone’s left. I can’t get a ride. Could you give me a lift?”
Before River could speak, I’d already pushed open the car door. “Of course. Miss Clara, sit in the front. The view’s better.”
Clara froze, the words she’d prepared stuck in her throat.
She looked at me, confusion flashing in her eyes, but still got into the passenger seat.
The car drove through the night. Clara kept talking, reminiscing about college days, reminiscing about all the little moments with River.
River occasionally responded with a word or two, mostly staying silent.
She continued with melancholy, “Sometimes I really regret it. If only I hadn’t gone abroad back then…”
“It’s all in the past.” River cut her off.
The car fell into brief silence.
Just then, a car suddenly shot out from a side road.
River jerked the steering wheel and slammed the brakes. The car spun out of control and crashed into the roadside barrier.
In the tremendous momentum, River instinctively reached out to shield Clara in the passenger seat.
In the back seat, I was violently thrown forward, my forehead slamming hard into the back of the front seat.
Intense pain struck, and warm liquid flowed down from my temple.
“Winona!” River turned to see my face covered in blood, his face instantly turning deathly pale. “Are you okay?”
I wiped the blood blurring my vision with the back of my hand. “I’m fine… Take Miss Clara first.”
“You’re like this and you still…”
“I’m really fine. I can take a taxi to the hospital myself. Miss Clara was frightened. You should take her home to rest quickly.”
With that, I pushed open the car door, walked to the roadside, hailed a taxi, and left without looking back.
After I finished getting my wound treated and left, I returned home and leaned on the sofa.
River pushed through the door and rushed over, crouching in front of me. “Why did you leave alone? Do you know how worried I was?”
I opened my eyes. “Weren’t you supposed to take care of Miss Clara? Her father just died, she’s emotionally unstable-she needs you more.”
“Winona!” River finally couldn’t hold back. He grabbed my hand. “What’s been going on with you lately? Is it because Clara came back and you’re uncomfortable? I’ve told you, she and I…”
“I know.” I pulled my hand back. “You’re ancient history. You’re taking care of her only because her father just died and she has no family in this city. I understand all of it.”
“Then why are you…”
“River,” I looked at him and suddenly smiled, “do you remember how I used to get upset when you spent time with Clara, and you’d always say I was too sensitive, too unreasonable?”
River froze.
“Now I’m reasonable, not sensitive, not upset.” I shrugged. “Isn’t this what you always wanted?”
Winona’s POV
I stood up. “I’m not feeling well. I’m going to bed.”
As I turned, he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “Winona, you’re not going to leave me, are you?”
I hadn’t expected him to notice so keenly.
Since he’d guessed, I might as well be honest-we could part on good terms.
But then River locked his gaze on me intensely. “We’ve been together for four years. By now we’re both used to each other’s presence. You won’t leave me, right?”
So he was anxious about me leaving only because he’d grown accustomed to my presence.
I suddenly remembered that in all these years together, though River had been a competent boyfriend, he’d never once said the word “love” to me.
Thinking about it now, he never said “love” to me perhaps because the person he truly loved in his heart was someone else.
As for me, I was just a habit.
I smiled slightly. “You’re right.”
I had indeed grown accustomed to his presence too.
It was just a habit I could break.
Perhaps it was my recent abnormal behavior that made River especially uneasy. He actually took several days off and stayed home specifically to keep me company.
He personally cooked the dishes I liked, took me out to movies and shopping-everything seemed just like before.
Yet something had changed.
A couple days later, Clara called.
When the specially assigned ringtone sounded in the living room, I was watering plants on the balcony.
I heard River answer the phone, his tone unconsciously gentle. “Clara?”
My hand paused. Water flowed in a thin stream from the watering can’s spout.
River hung up and came over. “Clara said a friend of hers is holding an art exhibition here, opening tomorrow. She got two extra tickets and wants to invite us both.”
Before he spoke, I heard that he’d already agreed.
“Sounds good.” I set down the watering can. “I haven’t been to an exhibition in a long time anyway.”
The next day, when River and I arrived at the exhibition venue, Clara, carefully made up, was already waiting at the entrance to the gallery.
“River! You’re here!”
She hurried forward, very naturally reaching out to link her arm with River’s.
River’s body stiffened slightly, his peripheral vision glancing at me.
I’d already started walking inside.
Behind me, Clara’s soft voice continued, “This exhibition is hosted by a friend of mine who just returned from France. Many of the works are really interesting…”
The gallery had soft lighting and sparse crowds.
“River, look at this one.” Clara pointed at an oil painting depicting a seaside sunset. “Doesn’t it look like that bay we went to for landscape painting in college?”
River followed her pointing finger, memories stirring, his expression somewhat dazed.
“Mm, it does look similar.”
Clara wore a nostalgic expression. “Thinking back to that time, it was really wonderful. We did so many things together, went to so many interesting places…”
I had no interest in listening to them reminisce. I was quickly drawn to several works combining ecological photography with oil painting and slowed my pace.
“Watch out!”
The instant the cry rang out, a sharp snapping sound came from overhead, steel cables breaking.
I looked up and saw a massive suspended installation losing balance, toppling toward where they stood.
Everything happened too fast.
River didn’t hesitate for even a second. He lunged toward Clara, wrapping her tightly in his arms as they both rolled toward a safe area.
I only had time to raise my arms to protect my head and face.
Shattered crystal fragments rained down. Sharp pieces sliced across my left shoulder, bringing piercing pain.
I staggered backward. My foot caught on something and I fell.
The back of my head slammed hard against the edge of a metal display stand. Intense pain came with instant darkness, warm liquid flowing from both my shoulder and the back of my head.
I lay on the cold floor, ears ringing, vision beginning to blur.
I used all my strength to turn my head slightly. Through the blood haze, I saw River helping Clara to her feet.
Blood seeped through his back, yet his first instinct was to check on Clara. His voice carried a panic I’d never heard before. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you injured?”
Clara leaned against him, pale, shaking her head gently.
So he really did love Clara.
Loved her so much that in a crisis, he’d instinctively save her first. Loved her so much that he’d ignore his own wounds. Loved her so much that he’d forget about me, his girlfriend of four years, and how badly I was hurt.
I tugged slightly at the corner of my lips, then lost consciousness as darkness swallowed everything.
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After Dumping My Ex, I Married His Boss
Drunk at a company dinner, I accidentally called my boss ‘hubby’.
My colleagues chuckled:
“Looks like she’s absolutely desperate to land the boss.”
Adolph Scott, my boss, glared at me, his face cold.
“Can’t even control your mouth, why are you drinking?”
A brief, stunned silence hung in the air.
Then, Archer Kingston, the notoriously hard-to-deal-with Project CEO, let out a cold laugh from across the table.
“She was calling me. What are you getting so worked up about?”
……
I’d chased Adolph Scott from our college days straight into his company, taking on an assistant role just to be near him.
Everyone knew I was head-over-heels for him.
One day, as I went to deliver some documents, I overheard voices from inside his office, teasing him.
“Aurora Jenkins, a girl from her family, reducing herself to being your assistant? You actually let her?”
Adolph scoffed.
“She insisted on coming. What could I do?”
The others laughed.
“True. She’s always been stuck to you.”
“Hasn’t changed in years.”
“But Adolph, are you really not going to get serious with Rory?”
“She literally dreams of being with you.”
“Last time her family set her up on a blind date, you called us out for drinks late at night. I actually thought you cared about her then.”
The words had barely left his lips.
Adolph suddenly got angry, his voice dropping, icy cold.
“She’s just a nuisance. Why would I care?”
Outside the door, my hand, poised to knock, slowly dropped.
I simply gripped the doorknob and pushed the door open.
The people inside froze at my unexpected entrance.
But only for a second.
Soon, they were all smiling again, acting like nothing happened.
“Rory, here to bring Adolph breakfast again?”
It was my daily breakfast delivery, without fail.
Adolph didn’t even lift his head, as if he’d anticipated my every move.
He merely tilted his chin vaguely in my direction.
“Just put it on the table.”
But I shook my head.
I placed the documents and my resignation letter on his desk.
“Not breakfast.”
“My resignation. For your review, Mr. Scott.”
Everyone stared, stunned.
They practically swarmed the desk, craning their necks to read the words on the letter, then asked in disbelief:
“No way, Rory, are you serious?”
Adolph finally frowned and looked up.
He stared at me.
“What’s this all about?”
I pushed the resignation letter closer to him.
“I’m quitting.”
“I also sent an electronic copy to your email. Don’t forget to check it.”
Adolph glanced at the letter on the table, asking impatiently, “Is this because I made you work late yesterday?”
I shook my head. “No.”
“I just don’t want to do this anymore.”
Adolph’s face finally hardened, little by little.
As I turned to leave, he called out to me.
“Rory.”
“If you leave now, there’ll be no coming back to me.”
It sounded like a threat, yet also a warning.
I didn’t look back.
“Couldn’t be happier.”
The atmosphere in the room instantly dropped to freezing point.
As I pushed the door open and left, I heard cautious, probing voices behind me.
“Adolph, she’s just having a diva moment, don’t take it to heart…”
“Yeah, you know how much she likes you, right?”
“She’ll probably regret it by this afternoon, and come begging to return…”
Adolph stared fixedly at the closed door, letting out a cold scoff.
“Like I care.”
I threw away all the useless things from my office.
In the end, I found I had nothing left to take.
Looking at the empty cubicle, I almost wanted to laugh.
My mind drifted back to the anonymous video I’d received last night while working late at the office.
In a private room, Adolph had his arm around a stunning beauty, listening indifferently to the chatter around him.
“Rory is still dutifully doing grunt work at Adolph’s company, huh?”
“You’ve got to admit, Adolph’s got skills. That heiress hasn’t shown up to any of our parties in ages.”
It was true.
Chasing Adolph for years, a privileged heiress like me, I’d practically become his indentured servant.
All he had to do was ask, and I’d willingly work late, attend his business dinners, until I was exhausted and sick.
In the end, all I got was a jest from his friends.
“Looking at it this way, Rory really is like Adolph’s most obedient dog.”
He stood by, swirling his drink, not denying it.
He even scoffed.
“What are you talking about? She’s just a dog by my side, not ‘the most’ obedient one!”
The room erupted in laughter.
In that moment, it felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over my head.
So cold.
But it was also like I’d instantly woken up.
After a moment’s thought, I quietly pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts to find the new guy my family had set me up with recently.
I’d heard he was a genuinely wonderful person.
But before, my mind was entirely consumed by Adolph, so I kept postponing the meeting and even thought about sabotaging it.
Now…
It seemed a little unethical, perhaps.
But as everyone knows, the best way to get over an ex is to start something new.
I tapped the screen.
[Want to meet tomorrow?]
To my surprise, he replied almost instantly.
[Sure.]
He was very gentlemanly.
He offered to let me choose the time and he’d arrange the location.
But when my parents had mentioned the meeting before, I hadn’t listened to a single word.
So now, I knew absolutely nothing about this man.
Arriving early at our meeting spot, I hesitated outside the door.
What if I didn’t recognize him later? That would be so awkward.
As I paced back and forth, I accidentally bumped into someone.
I looked up.
My gaze met a perfectly tailored, sharp suit.
Above that, a face with astonishingly refined features.
And the owner of that face was looking at me with a gentle expression.
“Why aren’t you going in?”
His seemingly perfectly kissable thin lips moved as he spoke…
I subconsciously swallowed.
Then quickly realized my lapse in composure.
Because I knew this man.
Archer Kingston.
A well-known powerhouse in the industry.
I’d seen his name countless times on Adolph’s company’s target partner list.
But rumor had it he was ruthless, cold-hearted, and incredibly difficult to approach.
Collaborations with him had never succeeded.
I quickly stepped back, making way for him.
“Oh, sorry, so sorry. I’m waiting for someone, I was a bit distracted, my apologies, please go ahead—”
But the man in front of me let out a soft laugh.
“Ms. Jenkins.”
I looked up, surprised.
How did he know my last name?
His eyes held a hint of a smile.
“Is there a chance the person you’re waiting for… is me?”
I was stunned.
My family had only said they were setting me up with a truly great guy.
But I never would have imagined it would be someone of Archer Kingston’s caliber.
It wasn’t until I was sitting face-to-face with Archer in the private dining room he’d arranged that I kept my composure, smiling politely.
Under the table, I was frantically texting my mom.
[You set me up with Archer Kingston?!]
[Is our family wealthy enough to marry into his now?!]
[Did you guys get rich behind my back?!]
My mom instantly replied with question marks.
[???]
[What are you talking about, honey? Daydreaming already?]
[We set you up with one of Archer Kingston’s distant nephews.]
[Your aunt probably didn’t explain it clearly, did she?]
I glanced at the man across from me, who was smiling as he watched me.
Surely there can’t be two faces this handsome?
As our eyes met, I couldn’t pretend to be busy anymore.
I stammered, “Um…”
“Are you… Mr. Archer Kingston, right?”
He nodded, then offered an apologetic smile.
“Yes.”
“My fault, I haven’t introduced myself yet.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ms. Jenkins. I’m Archer Kingston, and I’m your date for today.”
A concise introduction.
But it was completely different from the information my mom had given me.
My mind was reeling.
“But, my blind date… wasn’t supposed to be…”
Archer raised an eyebrow.
He picked up the teacup on the table and took a light sip.
“That kid isn’t good enough for you.”
“So I came instead.”
He looked up at me.
“Is something wrong?”
“Does Ms. Jenkins prefer him?”
I froze.
The way he said that… it was like we were old friends.
My heart began to pound.
Archer, however, remained completely composed, his calm, deep eyes fixed on me, clearly expecting an answer.
I forced myself to speak.
“Of course not… I don’t even know him.”
He chuckled softly.
“Then it’s okay for me to stand in for him, right?”
I swallowed.
“No… it’s fine.”
4.
Of course, it was fine by me.
It seemed like he was the one getting the short end of the stick.
Archer, however, seemed visibly happy with my answer.
He pulled a thick book from somewhere, stood up, and leaned over, placing it in front of me.
“Good.”
“This is my personal statement, outlining my background, hobbies, skills, career, income, and personal assets. Ms. Jenkins can review it.”
“I won’t lie to you, Ms. Jenkins, I came to this meeting with the intention of marriage.”
“My social circle is quite small and strictly professional, so I can guarantee absolute fidelity in marriage. After we’re married, I will fulfill everything I promise beforehand, and transfer all my personal assets to you unconditionally.”
“I won’t put any pressure on my partner. As long as we don’t divorce, she’ll have complete freedom.”
“If Ms. Jenkins finds my terms satisfactory, I hope my wish…”
He paused after that long speech.
Those beautiful eyes began to sparkle at me again.
“…can be considered.”
Archer’s voice was already warm and magnetic, and his strikingly handsome face, which I couldn’t tear my eyes from, was staring intently at me.
I was genuinely dazed.
I felt like I was floating on air.
Was this just a delusion brought on by Adolph driving me crazy?
Under the table, I pinched my thigh hard.
Ouch! That stung!
It wasn’t a dream.
Perhaps my expression became increasingly blank.
It wasn’t until a smile crept into Archer’s eyes that I realized I’d lost my composure again.
I quickly grabbed my cup and took a strategic sip of water.
Then I pretended to be composed and spoke.
“Mr. Kingston.”
“Are you saying… you want to marry me?”
He looked at me.
And nodded very seriously.
“Yes.”
“Ms. Jenkins, I hope to have the honor of becoming your husband.”
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I suffer from severe sun allergy.
Adrian Frost raised me for ten years and built a glass dome for me. Everyone said he cherished me to the bone.
Until he brought in that “psychologist,” Dr. Claire Hayes.
She said I was being dramatic and insisted on desensitization therapy.
The first time, they threw me on a beach. I ended up in the ICU, my body covered in severe burns.
The second time, they abandoned me in the desert. I nearly died from respiratory failure on the sand dunes.
The third time, she hung my parents’ urns outside a 28th-floor window and made me climb a ladder under the scorching noon sun to get them back.
I used every ounce of strength to climb up. My fingertips had just touched them when the urns fell from the height and shattered into pieces before my eyes.
I broke down crying, but Adrian slapped me hard across the face.
“That was flour! Are you done with this act?”
Kneeling on the ground, looking at that smug woman, I finally understood.
He wasn’t doing this for me.
He just wanted to be rid of me. His burden.
That night, I sent a message to the Holt family in Northern Europe:
“Mr. Holt, about that immigration plan you mentioned before, I accept.”
Stella POV
Everyone in the city knew that the billionaire tycoon Adrian Frost had a delicate lover he’d pampered for ten years.
That was me.
Because I suffered from severe sun allergy, I could barely tolerate any ultraviolet exposure. At best, I’d break out in blistering burns all over my body. At worst, my throat would swell shut, and I’d suffocate.
For my sake, Adrian spent money like water. He not only built an ultraviolet-blocking glass dome over the estate, but even created a private shopping street under its own dome, just so I could enjoy daylight like a normal person.
Everyone thought Adrian would cherish me for life.
Until that psychologist, Dr. Claire Hayes, appeared.
She came from humble beginnings but was boldly radiant, like a wild rose blooming under the blazing sun. Even Adrian, cold as ice, melted for her.
Because of Claire’s comment that “she’s just being dramatic,” I was forced to begin so-called desensitization therapy.
The first time, she took me to the beach for some “sunbathing.” After just one hour, I suffered severe burns all over my body and was rushed to the ICU.
The second time, Claire took me hiking in the desert but took away my protective suit midway. That time, I nearly died on the scorching sand dunes from respiratory failure.
The third time… which was this time, Claire hung my parents’ urns outside the 28th-floor window, forcing me to climb a ladder under the scorching noon sun to retrieve them.
I finally exploded. I slapped Claire hard across the face and made a scene in front of Adrian, firmly demanding he fire this crazy woman.
“Adrian, where did you find this quack!”
I pointed at him, my voice trembling. “This is a physiological condition, not a psychological one! Why are you letting a psychologist torture me? She threatened me with my parents’ ashes. Is that what a doctor does?”
But Adrian completely ignored my anger. His gaze went straight past me to Claire behind me.
Claire’s fair face bore five clear finger marks, already swelling. She pressed her red lips together, looking at Adrian with stubborn defiance, her eyes full of grievance yet strength.
“I know this shock therapy is painful,” she spoke, her voice catching slightly.
“But I’m experienced, and this will definitely help Ms. Everhart successfully desensitize. As long as she actively cooperates with me, I believe it won’t be long before she can walk normally in the sunlight.”
I saw the ice in Adrian’s eyes instantly melt, overflowing with distress. “I’m sorry, Dr. Hayes. Stella wasn’t like this before. I’m sorry you had to suffer.”
Claire showed an “I understand everything” smile. “It’s okay. As a doctor, being misunderstood by patients is common. But I will never give up on any patient in my care.”
Adrian looked at her with growing admiration.
Then he turned to look at me, his expression instantly becoming cold and disappointed. “Stella, how did you become like this? Dr. Hayes is doing this for your own good. How could you hit someone? Where did all that elite education you received go?”
I shouted hysterically, my eyes red. “She threatened me with my parents’ ashes! Shouldn’t I hit her? Adrian, can you really tolerate someone desecrating my parents’ ashes like this, letting them have no peace even in death?”
“Silence!” Adrian cut me off sharply.
“Stella Everhart, it’s because your parents spoiled you too much that you turned out so delicate! Who’s responsible for your parents having no peace? If you could desensitize earlier and live freely, would they still need to worry about you?”
His words struck like lightning. Tears rolled down from my eyes one by one.
“So… you blame me?” My voice trembled. “You don’t blame Claire for abusing me, but blame me instead?”
Adrian’s eyes flickered for just a moment, seemingly with tenderness, but it was quickly replaced by determination.
“Stella, be good. Claire is doing this for you. Cooperate obediently and desensitize soon. Then I’ll take you skiing in Switzerland, to see the Northern Lights in Iceland.”
Claire chimed in from the side, like a victor. “That’s right, Ms. Everhart. My treatment methods may be a bit intense, but they’re very effective. Look, today is the third treatment, and you’re already not as resistant to sunlight as before. That’s huge progress. If you keep it up, you’ll definitely succeed in desensitizing.”
Adrian’s firmness and unquestionable tone made my heart ache until I couldn’t breathe.
Before, whatever I didn’t want to do, Adrian never forced me. When had he ever yelled at me so severely?
I wiped away my tears and gave up struggling. No matter what, I couldn’t let anything happen to my parents’ ashes.
I obediently climbed up the ladder.
Claire stood to the side, smiling encouragingly. “Come on, Ms. Everhart.”
Her magnanimity only made me seem more “tyrannical” and “unreasonable.”
Yet clearly, I was always the one getting hurt.
My skin was already starting to burn. Today’s sun was vicious, the light so bright I could barely open my eyes. Claire wouldn’t let me wear sun protection clothing, claiming it was to let my skin “adapt” to sunlight as much as possible.
So I could only wear a tank top and shorts with no coverage.
I endured my fear of heights and climbed up step by step. As the height increased and I spent more time exposed to sunlight, the burning sensation on my skin intensified.
I looked down at my arm. Large patches of red rashes had already appeared, with transparent blisters forming.
I felt like butter thrown into an oven, ready to melt at any moment. The excruciating pain slowed my movements.
Just then, Claire’s voice came from below. “Ms. Everhart, you need to hurry. To control exposure time and reduce damage, I’ve set a countdown. One more minute and the mechanical claw will automatically release.”
My heart jumped in shock.
How dare Claire do this?
I couldn’t care about the pain anymore and desperately grabbed the ladder, climbing upward with all my might. But I was just a patient who’d lived indoors for years-how could I possibly have the skills of a professional stunt performer?
One minute wasn’t enough time for me to climb the remaining distance.
When I used every ounce of strength and my fingertips finally touched the endpoint, the mechanical claw released.
I reached out desperately trying to grab them, but could only watch helplessly as my parents’ urns slipped from my fingertips.
They fell from the 28th floor and smashed hard on the concrete, shattering into pieces.
“No!”
I screamed in anguish. In desperation, I jumped directly from the ladder.
Fortunately, I still had a safety rope attached.
When I landed in a daze, Adrian didn’t first check my injuries. Instead, he rushed over and slapped me across the face.
“Stella! Have I been too lenient with you?”
He roared angrily. “You have such a temper that you don’t even care about your own life when resisting? How can you face your deceased parents? Claire already said those were just prop boxes filled with flour. How could she be insane enough to actually threaten you with real ashes!”
I froze, my cheek burning with pain.
Claire rushed over in a panic, standing in front of me like a saint. “Adrian, don’t blame Ms. Everhart. It’s all my fault. Perhaps this aggressive therapy is still too soon for Ms. Everhart!”
Before she could finish, I shoved her hard from behind.
“I don’t want your fake concern!”
Claire fell down on cue, her forehead hitting the steps, immediately drawing a trickle of blood.
“Stella Everhart, you’ve gone too far!”
Adrian scooped Claire up, his eyes stabbing at me coldly. Then without another glance at me, he turned and strode away.
I knelt on the ground, tears falling one by one onto the scorching concrete.
In that moment, a thought hazily emerged in my mind: Adrian no longer belonged to me.
I cried as I tried to collect the fragments on the ground, attempting to scoop up those gray-white powder. As their daughter, wouldn’t I know whether my parents’ urns were real or fake? There were marks I’d deliberately carved on them to distinguish them.
Flour… all lies.
Before I could gather them all, a gust of wind swept through, scattering the ashes into the air. Gone. Never to be recovered.
I had also stayed under the sun too long, and the severe allergic reaction finally caused me to go into shock.
I couldn’t breathe. My vision went black, and I passed out completely.
When I woke up, the hospital room was empty, with only the ticking sound of machines.
My entire body was wrapped in thick bandages like a mummy. My throat was parched. I struggled to sit up to pour water, but faintly heard Adrian on the phone on the balcony outside the door.
“I know Claire’s methods are somewhat extreme, but without doing this, Stella will never be able to walk in sunlight for the rest of her life.”
His voice carried exhaustion. “Keeping her like this, raising her for ten years-I’m really tired.”
“I know what my adoptive parents had in mind, but in my heart, Stella will forever only be my sister.”
“I can’t spend my life being a ‘vampire’ with her. I just want to experience a normal man’s life, marry a normal wife who can walk with me during the day, vacation at the beach… am I wrong?”
My heart suddenly tore open a huge hole, cold wind rushing in.
Adrian was our Everhart family’s adopted son. Though nominally my brother, everyone in our circle knew what my parents had in mind when they adopted him.
I couldn’t live like a normal person, so Adrian was the future husband the Everhart family had chosen for me, and also my guardian.
I had always known. I’d long harbored feelings for this gentle, patient man. I thought we would naturally get married and spend our lives together.
Only now did I realize Adrian never thought that way. He only saw me as a burden he couldn’t shake off.
I laughed bitterly, tears sliding down silently.
If he never planned to spend his life with me, there was no need to find such high-sounding reasons, or even bring in a doctor to torture me.
I didn’t blame him for wanting to pursue a normal life. I only hated why he had to use this method to crush my dignity.
I took out my phone and pulled up that cross-border email that had been sitting in my drafts for ages.
After thinking for a moment, I finally pressed reply. “Mr. Holt, about that Northern European treatment immigration plan you mentioned before-I accept.”
Stella POV
Soon, a cross-border call came through. On the other end was Mr. Holt’s excited voice.
“Stella, you’ve finally come around!”
“Your condition isn’t at all suitable for the domestic environment. In Northern Europe, there are countries with polar nights where you can live a normal life.”
“Years ago I told you to come, but you couldn’t bear to leave. I’m really happy you’ve changed your mind.”
I forced a pale smile. “Then I’ll have to trouble you with the immigration procedures.”
My uncle’s voice was hearty. “Don’t worry, I’ve handed it all to Landon Holt. He said it’ll only take a month to handle all the medical visas and procedures.”
“For this remaining month, just settle your affairs in the country. When the time comes, Landon will personally fly over to pick you up.”
I obediently agreed. “Okay.”
Just as I hung up, Adrian pushed the door open.
“Stella, you’re awake? Who were you on the phone with?”
I shook my head, said nothing, and silently placed my phone face-down on the bed.
Adrian thought I was still angry and habitually reached out to pat my head, but I dodged by turning away. His hand hung awkwardly in mid-air.
Adrian froze, then withdrew his hand, softening his voice. “Stella, are you still mad at me?”
“I’m doing this for your own good. Once you desensitize early, you can live a normal life, and we won’t have to live so carefully anymore.”
For my own good?
I laughed coldly inside.
Before, I really did think he was doing it for my own good. But I was too naive.
Now I knew he wasn’t doing it for me-he was trying to get rid of me. For ten years, he felt he’d accommodated me enough. He longed to shed me, this burden who could only live in shadows.
Seeing I still wouldn’t speak, Adrian’s gentle patience wore thin.
“Stella, Claire has put her heart and soul into creating treatment plans for you. If you won’t appreciate it, fine, but you even pushed her and hurt her. Once you’re a bit better, I want you to apologize to Claire.”
I held back the bitterness and pain in my heart, saying coldly, “You want me to apologize? Impossible.”
“She destroyed my parents’ ashes and you want me to apologize to her? Adrian, you’re dreaming.”
Adrian’s face instantly darkened, his voice cold as ice. “You must apologize, or you’re no longer my sister!”
I turned my head, looking at him in disbelief. “Adrian, you’re threatening me with cutting ties now?”
I hardened my heart, each word ringing clear. “I will never apologize to that woman in this lifetime.”
Adrian laughed in anger and nodded. “Fine, very good. Since you’re so unrepentant, from today on, you’re not allowed to set foot in the estate. Don’t apologize, and you’ll never come home!”
My eyes reddened as I stared at him hard. “On what grounds? That’s my home! That’s the Everhart family estate! If anyone should leave, it should be you, the outsider! I don’t need a brother like you!”
The word “outsider” clearly stung him.
Adrian’s face turned frighteningly dark. What he hated most was this identity as an adopted son.
He looked at me darkly, said not another word, and slammed the door as he left.
I stared at the closed door, my face pale. I knew those words were too harsh, but the water was already spilled.
I never imagined that in the end, we’d break up over a woman he’d just met.
For the days that followed, Adrian never once came to the hospital. No calls, no messages.
I felt it didn’t matter.
I checked myself out of the hospital alone and returned to that empty estate alone.
Only twenty-five days left. Perhaps this rupture was better-I could leave more decisively, with no lingering attachments.
Back home, I sat in the dark living room and accidentally came across a post Claire had just shared on social media.
In the photo, on a sunlit lawn, Claire wore a pristine white wedding dress, holding onto Adrian in a sharp suit.
The two smiled brilliantly in the sunlight, like a perfect couple.
The caption read:
“Someone’s homeless and can only be my free model lol.”
“Photo shoot in progress. It’s just sample shots, but wow, getting married is exhausting!”
The comments were full of congratulations and likes from mutual friends.
Claire didn’t explain whether this was for work or what, only replying in the comments with a tongue-out emoji.
My phone dropped onto the carpet.
Stella POV
I hesitated for a long time but ultimately couldn’t suppress the unwillingness in my heart.
I wrapped myself from head to toe, even put on a mask like a gas mask and goggles, and followed the location Claire had shared.
It was an upscale wedding photography venue.
The weather was clear and sunny, with gentle breezes.
I searched for a long time and finally found them by a European-style flower garden.
It happened to be during a break between shoots.
I hid in the shadow of the trees, watching Adrian gently take out a tissue to wipe the fine sweat from Claire’s forehead, even unscrewing a water bottle and holding it to her lips.
That deep affection in his eyes couldn’t be hidden.
Claire had changed into a fiery red gown, like a delicate blooming rose, shyly leaning against him.
Both were strikingly attractive. Just standing there, they were a sight to behold, drawing looks from surrounding staff and other couples.
I looked down at myself.
All in black protective clothing, like a monster that couldn’t see light, like a rat hiding in the gutter, only able to peek at other people’s happiness from dark corners.
My heart felt like someone was squeezing it hard. The pain left me breathless.
In this moment, I truly felt that Adrian really only saw me as a sister, or even… a burden.
These ten years of care for me were only because of responsibility, because of my parents’ dying wishes.
Not love.
Never love. I’d been deluding myself.
I wanted to leave, but my feet felt like they were filled with lead. I masochistically watched them constantly change poses for photos, my goggles already clouded with moisture.
Claire seemed to inadvertently catch sight of me hiding in the corner. The corners of her mouth quietly curved upward, then she suddenly pretended to panic and cried out.
“Oh no! My bracelet! Where’s my diamond bracelet?”
“That’s… that’s a keepsake my mother left me! What will I do if it’s lost?”
Her eyes reddened anxiously, on the verge of tears.
The surrounding staff immediately put down their work and began helping her search.
Adrian held her shoulders, constantly soothing her. “Don’t worry, Claire. It must be nearby. Security here is good-we’ll definitely find it.”
Claire suddenly raised her hand, pointing in my direction, her voice sharp. “That person! That person looks so strange. I just saw her lurking around suspiciously. Did she steal my bracelet?”
I was wrapped up completely, hiding in shadows-I did look suspicious.
Several security guards and staff immediately surrounded me.
My heart jumped in alarm. I instinctively wanted to explain, but seeing the aggressive crowd, I was terrified and turned to run.
But the more I ran, the more it confirmed the suspicion.
“Stop! Catch the thief!”
Shouts rose behind me one after another. I ran blindly and crashed into a trash can by the road, falling to the ground. Immediately security personnel caught up and pinned me down hard.
I struggled desperately. “Let me go! It wasn’t me, I’m not a thief, I was just passing by!”
But no one believed me.
“If you’re not a thief, why are you dressed like this? On such a hot day, wrapped up like a mummy?”
“Won’t even show your face-must be guilty!”
I pleaded desperately, my voice breaking. “No… I’m allergic to sunlight, I can’t be exposed. Please believe me…”
Those people turned a deaf ear.
Someone suggested, “Rip off her mask! Let’s see what this stubborn thief looks like, take a photo and post it online!”
A wave of desperate panic washed over me. “No! You can’t! I’ll die!”
But in their eyes, this was just another excuse to cover up my crime.
Several rough hands pressed down on my head. Ignoring my screams and struggles, they ripped off my mask and goggles.
“She’s actually pretty…”
Someone was about to mock when their voice suddenly caught in their throat.
Under the unshielded scorching sun, my originally fair face quickly reddened, then visibly began erupting in horrifying rashes and blisters, my skin ulcerating as if scalded by boiling water.
The people around had never seen such a scene. Someone shouted in terror, “Oh my god! What kind of disease is this? Is she a drug addict?”
“How disgusting! Could it be some infectious disease? Get away quick!”
Everyone backed away like avoiding the plague.
I struggled to crawl up, desperately covering my painfully burning face with my hands, trying to block that scorching sunlight.
“No… it’s not… I’m just allergic…”
A passing extremist pedestrian holding a just-bought iced coffee walked over with disgust written all over his face.
“Stop pretending! I bet you’re one of those thieves who caught some disease! Don’t scare the children here!”
With that, he dumped the entire cup of iced coffee along with ice cubes over my head.
The sticky brown liquid mixed with ice smashed into my wounds. The pain was excruciating.
Cheers actually rose around me. “That’s how you should teach these perverted thieves!”
Some people even started picking up empty bottles from the ground to throw at me.
I curled up on the ground, protecting my head, loudly trying to explain, but was drowned out by the crowd’s insults.
Through gaps in the crowd, I looked desperately toward the distance.
Adrian and Claire stood there, coldly watching this whole farce.
A last glimmer of hope rose in my heart. I called out in a weak voice, “Adrian… Adrian, save me…”
If he didn’t save me now, I’d be beaten to death, sunburned to death.
Adrian’s expression seemed to freeze for a moment. He instinctively took a step forward, but was pulled back by Claire beside him, who grabbed his arm.
“Adrian, I think I heard Ms. Everhart’s voice?” Claire said, feigning confusion.
Adrian stopped, frowning. “How is that possible? Stella should still be home reflecting right now. Besides, with such strong sun, how could she possibly appear here?”
“You’re right.” Claire tightened her hold on his arm, smiling. “I must have heard wrong. That seems to be some crazy person causing a scene. Let’s not go over-it’s bad luck. We still have a few more sets to shoot. After we finish, I’ll treat you to French cuisine to thank you for coming to my rescue today.”
Adrian’s expression softened as he nodded. “Alright, as you say. No need to mind other people’s business.”
The two turned and left, not sparing me another glance.
In that moment, the last bit of light in my heart completely went out.
I gave up struggling, letting the sunlight scorch my skin, letting those empty bottles hit my body.
My consciousness gradually blurred. Before sinking into darkness, I thought:
Maybe dying like this is for the best.
Finally, I’m not anyone’s burden.
Stella POV
When I opened my eyes again, I found myself lying in my familiar bedroom.
Every inch of skin on my body screamed with pain, covered in ointment.
I turned my head and saw Adrian sitting on the sofa by the bed working on his laptop, with a bowl of steaming cream of mushroom soup beside him.
Sensing my movement, Adrian closed his laptop. A trace of familiar tenderness appeared in his eyes. “You’re awake? Hungry? I had the kitchen make your favorite soup.”
That practiced, natural tone, as if we hadn’t broken up a few days ago, as if I hadn’t nearly been beaten to death outside.
I turned my head away, not wanting to look at him. My heart ached wave after wave.
Every time we fought, the next day he’d be like this-making amends as if nothing had happened.
“Why are you home?”
My voice was hoarse. “Are you going to have the butler throw me out again?”
Adrian’s expression stiffened slightly, his tone cooling. “You’re still being stubborn at a time like this? You know perfectly well what I said that day was in anger.”
“If the police hadn’t called me, I wouldn’t even know you’d run outside in broad daylight like a lunatic and been mistaken for a thief!”
“Stella, if something really happened to you, how would I explain it to Mom and Dad?”
At the mention of my parents, my eyes reddened again. “It would be better if I died. Then I could go be with Mom and Dad. It would also save you the trouble. Without me as a burden, you could marry and have children, live the normal life you want.”
My words laid bare his most secret thoughts. Adrian’s face turned livid.
“Stella! Is this what you think? These ten years, is this how you’ve seen me?” he roared.
I asked back, my voice trembling. “Then how should I see you? You brought Claire in. Wasn’t it to push me out, to get rid of me?”
Adrian shot to his feet, pacing back and forth in the room, extremely agitated. “Stella, I really have spoiled you these years. I should have cured you long ago! Otherwise, how could your thoughts become so dark and twisted?”
The air in the room froze for a moment.
Adrian rarely spoke to me like this. But since Claire appeared, his exceptions had become the norm.
Just then, the door was pushed open.
Claire walked in carrying a tray, gently persuading, “Ms. Everhart, you’ve really misunderstood Adrian. He’s been nothing but devoted to you. He even dreams about you being able to desensitize, to let you run in the sunlight. Saying this really breaks his heart.”
Adrian looked at her, his eyes softening, throwing her a grateful glance.
Their gazes met in the air, carrying some tacit understanding others couldn’t intrude upon.
Watching them, I only felt my heart being pricked by needles.
I laughed coldly. “What gives you the right? This is my home. When is it your turn to butt in?”
The smile on Claire’s lips froze. Her face instantly turned deathly pale, looking as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice.
Adrian immediately stepped forward, shielding her behind him, glaring at me with fury. “Stella! When did you become so mean and spiteful? Claire has worked so hard to put together treatment plans for you, and this is how you treat her? Looks like Claire was right, you don’t know gratitude at all!”
“The desensitization therapy must be accelerated. Starting today, Claire will move into the estate and stay until you’re completely desensitized!”
With that, ignoring my objections and shock, he pulled Claire and turned to leave.
The instant before the door closed, Claire looked back.
In those eyes that faced away from Adrian, where was there any trace of grievance? They were full of triumphant smiles and provocation.
She silently mouthed to me, “Ms. Everhart, I definitely won’t let you down.”
Stella POV
The day after Claire moved in, my life became living hell.
She took complete control of my food, clothing, and daily life.
My constitution was special, with many dietary restrictions. But in Claire’s eyes, these were all “delicate” psychological issues.
With a wave of her hand, she eliminated all the special meals the kitchen had been preparing for me.
So that evening’s dinner table was filled with foods I didn’t like and that would even trigger allergies.
Seafood, bread with gluten, peanut butter salad… while foods I could safely eat were scarce.
I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to flip the table.
Less than twenty days remained before I’d leave forever anyway. I didn’t want any more conflicts with this crazy woman.
I’d just consider it a diet.
Seeing me only move my fork a few times and drink a few sips of water, Claire curved her lips and asked with feigned concern, “Ms. Everhart, is it not to your taste? I see you’ve hardly eaten.”
My expression was cold. “No appetite.”
Claire’s eyes instantly reddened as she looked at Adrian. “Adrian, is it because I didn’t do well enough? I know Ms. Everhart has issues with me, but she can’t just joke around with her health. If my presence affects Ms. Everhart’s appetite, then from now on I’ll eat in the kitchen with the servants.”
As she spoke, she made a show of getting up to take her plate.
Adrian grabbed her hand. “What are you doing? You’re an honored guest I invited, the family doctor. How can you eat in the servants’ quarters? Stay right here!”
Claire looked at me with difficulty. “But…”
Adrian looked at me coldly. “Stella Everhart, there’s a limit to throwing tantrums. Claire stayed up several nights working on your treatment plan. She carefully selected all these ingredients. If you won’t appreciate it, fine, but who are you putting on this act for?”
I didn’t respond, just put down my napkin and wiped my mouth. “I’m full. You two enjoy.”
I got up to leave.
As I passed Adrian, he suddenly grabbed my wrist, his grip alarmingly strong. “Stella Everhart! I’m talking to you! Where are your manners?”
Sharp pain shot through my wrist. I frowned and shook off his hand, looking at the red marks rapidly forming on my wrist.
“You call this dinner?” I pointed at the table. “Look at this spread yourself. Which of these dishes can I actually eat? I’m allergic to seafood and peanuts. Did you forget?”
Adrian froze for a moment, then his expression softened, seemingly showing a trace of guilt.
But Claire immediately said softly from the side, “Adrian, this is part of the desensitization therapy. Food tolerance training is very important too. Ms. Everhart’s allergies are often caused by psychological suggestion.”
The guilt in Adrian’s eyes instantly vanished.
He became firm again. “Stella, Claire is right. This is a psychological issue. Once you slowly accept it, your body will adapt.”
“If you don’t want to eat, then go hungry.”
He coldly ordered the butler, “Without my permission, the kitchen is not to prepare any special meals for Miss. All food in the house must be inspected by Dr. Hayes. After a few days of hunger, she’ll learn to give in.”
Heat rushed to my eyes.
I said nothing, just turned and left, not wanting them to see the tears in my eyes.
Stella POV
This time Adrian was determined to force me to be “normal.”
For three days straight, the table was filled with all my primary allergens. Even when we’d argued before, there would at least be a bowl of oatmeal. Now even the oatmeal had been replaced with peanut butter toast that made me want to vomit.
I didn’t touch any of it. I went on a complete hunger strike for three days.
I didn’t know when my relationship with Adrian had become like this.
But soon enough.
I looked at the email I’d just received on my phone.
Landon Holt had sent: “All procedures complete. In five days, the private jet will be at West City Airport. Stella, I’ll be waiting for you there.”
I rubbed my sore eyes.
Five days.
After three days of eating almost nothing, I’d visibly wasted away, my face as pale as paper.
Adrian came to see me. Looking at my swaying figure, his eyes were full of struggle.
But Claire came too, standing right at my door, whispering in his ear. “Adrian, stay strong. This is the darkness before dawn. Once she gets through this, she’ll be reborn.”
Adrian nodded through clenched teeth.
Until the fourth morning, when I was going downstairs, my vision went black and I passed out.
When I woke up, Adrian was holding a bowl of plain oatmeal to my lips, his face full of tenderness and compromise.
“Stella, you win.”
He sighed, his voice hoarse. “I just wanted you to be normal. Is that wrong? Why won’t you understand my good intentions?”
Looking at this man who was so decisive in business, now showing such defeat.
My heart ached sharply.
I turned my head away, avoiding his gaze.
“I’ll cooperate with Claire.” My voice was hoarse. “These next few days, I’ll be good.”
Adrian’s eyes lit up instantly.
He reached out and gently patted my head, just like before. “I knew it. My Stella is the most sensible. As long as you cooperate, everything will get better.”
I smiled too.
Yes. Everything would get better.
Because in five days, I’d be gone from his world. Completely.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Claire standing in the doorway.
Her eyes were cold, her fists clenched tight. Then she turned and left.
That look sent a chill through me I couldn’t explain.
🌟 Continue the story here
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When I was seventeen, my guardian, Luca Thorne, found out I had feelings for him.
He called me a disgusting psycho.
He burned all one hundred and eight sketches I’d drawn of him and sent me to a school for troubled youth.
Five whole years.
There, I learned to kneel and drink scalding water. Learned not to cry when I was beaten. Learned to close my eyes when a dozen men surrounded me.
I thought if I endured, I could go home.
Until he brought back a fiancée.
Winona Reynolds framed me for pushing her off a horse. He made me kneel in the rain as punishment.
Winona burned herself. He ordered them to take my skin for her grafts.
Winona brought a group of men to violate me. He turned and left with her in his arms.
I begged him one last time, kowtowing frantically on the floor.
“Mr. Thorne, please save me-”
But the elevator doors closed.
The look in his eyes was pure disgust.
The next day was his engagement party.
I jumped from the top floor and landed on the hood of his wedding car.
But Luca, why did you go insane after I died?
Fiona POV
When I was seventeen, they discovered my secret.
I had feelings for Luca.
He was my father’s best friend. And my guardian.
He destroyed everything with his own hands.
My drawing board. My easel. Those one hundred and eight sketches I’d secretly drawn of him, all turned to ash in the flames.
“Shameless.”
Behind me, the iron gate slammed shut with a heavy thud that seemed to hit my spine.
A black sedan pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Luca’s cold profile.
The passenger door opened. A woman in a white dress stepped out, her hair pinned up, her smile perfectly measured.
“You must be Fiona. I’m Winona Reynolds.”
I nodded, my throat too dry to speak.
“Get in the car. It’s windy out here.”
She finished speaking, slipped her arm through Luca’s as naturally as breathing, and settled back into the passenger seat.
I opened the rear door and climbed in.
The car was spacious, yet oppressively suffocating.
In the front, Winona spoke softly to Luca. He occasionally responded, his gaze always on the road ahead.
In the rearview mirror, his eyes swept over me.
“Did you learn the rules in there?”
His voice came through the mirror, devoid of any warmth.
My body trembled slightly as those days and nights came flooding back.
“I learned them.”
I answered quietly, head bowed even lower.
“And those inappropriate thoughts-are they gone too?”
My fingers twisted the hem of my clothes.
Five years. One thousand, eight hundred and twenty-five days. Every single day I repeated the same words to myself: Fiona Winters doesn’t have feelings for Luca anymore.
“They’re gone.”
“Good.”
His gaze moved away, and the car fell into dead silence.
The Thorne estate looked the same as before-vast and unsettling.
After the car stopped, I followed them into the main building.
“Fiona, your room…”
Winona turned around, an apologetic smile on her face.
“The lighting was perfect in there. So I turned it into a greenhouse. You know how much Luca loves the orchids I grow.”
At the end of the second-floor hallway, the door that once belonged to me now had a sign reading “Greenhouse.”
I showed no reaction.
“It’s fine.”
I said.
“You’re the lady of the house. If you like it, that’s what matters. I’ll take a guest room.”
Winona’s smile froze for an instant before returning to normal. She turned to Luca, her tone carrying a hint of pride.
“Luca, see how well-behaved Fiona is now.”
Luca studied me.
“Mm.”
He responded coolly.
“Show her to the guest room.”
At dinner, the long table felt like two worlds stretched between its ends.
Luca sat at the head, Winona beside him. I sat alone across from them, a large bouquet of flowers between us.
He carefully cut Winona’s steak. Removed the bones from her fish. His movements were focused, tender, expressions I’d never seen on his face.
“Fiona, try this soup.”
Winona smiled as she pushed a bowl toward me.
That sentence was like pressing a switch.
My spine went rigid. I picked up the spoon and mechanically scooped the scalding liquid into my mouth.
The burning broth scorched my mouth, but I didn’t stop. Spoonful after spoonful, I swallowed.
This was the first rule they taught me in that place: Obey, then swallow everything.
Winona watched me until the bowl was empty.
“Luca, I told you, Fiona is very obedient now.”
Luca’s brow furrowed very slightly, then relaxed.
“Keep it that way. Get along with Winona.”
His tone left no room for argument.
“Yes, Mr. Thorne.”
I answered with my head down.
Back in the guest room, I closed the door and slowly slid down against it until I was sitting on the floor.
I pulled out a cloth bundle from my inner pocket. Inside were several bills crumpled by sweat.
This was what I’d saved, bit by bit, doing handwork in that place.
I took out my old phone, my fingers trembling as I typed in a destination.
A distant city in the south, where it was spring all year round.
Date: Thirty days from now.
Payment. Confirmation.
[Purchase Successful]
Thirty days.
This was the countdown I’d set for myself.
Night fell. I curled up on the bed without changing my clothes.
This was a habit I’d developed in that place-always ready for sudden emergencies.
The sound of the doorknob turning was soft, but enough to jolt me awake.
My body went rigid, my breathing stopped.
The door opened. A tall shadow entered, carrying something.
The most terrifying memories surged up instantly. I could barely breathe.
My mind went blank, but my body reacted before my consciousness could-an instinct carved into my bones through countless beatings and humiliations.
I rolled off the bed and crawled forward on my knees, my trembling hands fumbling to unbutton his shirt.
“Don’t hit me…”
I cried.
“I’ll serve you right away… please, don’t hit me…”
The light came on.
Under the harsh glare, Luca stood there holding a bowl of soup.
He looked down at me.
“Fiona,”
His voice wavered unusually.
“What are you doing?!”
Fiona POV
His expression changed instantly.
Shock, rage, and undisguised revulsion.
He swung his hand and knocked the cup off the nightstand. Glass shattered everywhere.
“You think you can get what you want with these disgusting tricks?”
“Five years in that place, and this is all they taught you?”
My body froze.
The sound of shattering glass snapped me back to brief clarity.
I looked at his eyes burning with fury.
He’d misunderstood.
He straightened the shirt I’d pulled open, the disgust in his eyes nearly overflowing.
“Look carefully. I’m not one of those people from that place.”
“As for you,”
He paused, each word like a knife.
“I have absolutely no interest.”
With that, he turned and slammed the door.
The loud crash dragged me back to that dark night.
I curled up on the floor, my body still shaking.
Sounds came from the next room.
First, Winona’s tearful consolation.
“Don’t be angry. She’s still young, maybe she just… likes you too much.”
Then Luca’s voice, suppressing his rage.
“If she’d been well-behaved, I could’ve treated her like a sister. But she had to disgust me this way.”
Then came deliberately amplified sounds of intimacy.
The woman’s laughter, the man’s breathing, the bed creaking…
The nights in that place sounded just like this.
The sounds came from all directions, inescapable. Behind those sounds were the cries of girl after girl.
I covered my ears, but the sounds only grew clearer.
I crawled up and knelt on the cold floor, facing that direction.
Once.
Twice.
I slammed my forehead against the ground. The pain seemed to numb the torment inside.
Blood soon blurred my vision.
I chanted like someone possessed.
“Fiona doesn’t have feelings for Luca anymore.”
“Fiona doesn’t have feelings for Luca anymore.”
I had to kill the part of myself that still held hope.
At breakfast the next day, I appeared in the dining room right on time.
My bangs covered the wound on my forehead.
Luca frowned, about to speak, but Winona spoke first.
“The weather’s nice today. Come with us to the polo club. We’re picking out the engagement venue, and you can help us decide.”
I didn’t want to go out. I just wanted to hide.
“I…”
“Go.”
Luca cut me off coldly, leaving no room for refusal.
I could only nod.
“…Okay.”
On the club terrace, green grass stretched as far as the eye could see.
Luca went to take a call, leaving just Winona and me.
When the wind blew, all warmth vanished from her face.
“Having feelings for your guardian, how shameless.”
My body trembled.
She sneered and set down her coffee cup.
“You think you hid it well? Your diary, your drawings-I knew about them long ago.” She lowered her voice. “Five years ago, he could send you there. Five years later, I can too.”
“Don’t let anything go wrong at my engagement party. You need to disappear.”
I thought of those torments, and my teeth began to chatter.
Looking at her, I used all my strength to promise.
“Don’t worry…”
“I’ll leave.”
Fiona POV
Winona didn’t believe me.
Seeing my pale face and trembling body, the smile on her lips deepened.
“I don’t trust verbal promises.”
She said.
“I need to help you along-make sure you leave more permanently.”
She walked toward the nearby stables and led out two docile horses.
“Let’s go riding. Consider it clearing our heads.”
I couldn’t refuse.
In his world, I had to obey her every request.
We rode the horses slowly across the lawn.
Winona controlled her horse, approaching me at a measured pace.
When the two horses were side by side, she suddenly let out a short scream and her body lurched sideways, tumbling from the saddle.
Everything happened too fast.
I’d just tightened the reins when she was already rolling on the ground, moaning in pain.
Her horse hadn’t even been startled.
Luca, who’d been on the terrace taking a call, heard the sound and whipped around.
He rushed over and scooped Winona into his arms.
“I was so scared…”
Winona weakly clutched his sleeve, tears immediately streaming down her face.
“Her horse suddenly spooked and bumped into me.”
As she spoke, she glanced at me.
“It’s not her fault. She definitely didn’t mean to…”
“Can’t you tolerate her at all?”
Luca’s voice was cold as ice.
It wasn’t me. She fell off by herself.
But would he believe me?
I looked at Winona cradled in his arms, then at his furious face. I couldn’t say a word.
“You haven’t learned your lesson at all. You really disgust me.”
He said coldly as he passed me.
“Wait for me at home.”
The black sedan sped away, leaving me alone at the empty polo grounds.
I dismounted and slowly led the horse back.
The pain in my chest had already gone numb.
“I really… don’t have feelings for you anymore…”
I said softly, my voice so quiet only I could hear it.
Night fell.
I didn’t return to my room. I sat alone on the living room sofa, waiting.
The first lesson I learned in that place was: Don’t make excuses. Don’t beg for mercy.
The only choice was to accept quietly.
At midnight, Luca pushed through the door.
He saw me sitting quietly and paused for a moment.
“Kneel.”
He commanded.
I slid off the sofa and knelt on the cold floor.
He took a black riding crop from the wall.
“Why did you spook Winona’s horse?”
I kept my head down and said nothing.
The whip struck my back, searing hot.
“Why do you insist on having feelings for me?”
Another lash.
“Why are you so shameless?”
Another lash.
I bit my lip, neither crying nor screaming. Not until the housekeeper Emma rushed out to stop him.
“Sir! Stop! The floor is covered in blood!”
Only then did he stop. He crouched down and gripped my chin.
“Why aren’t you crying out in pain?”
My lips were already bitten through.
“Because…”
My voice was hoarse.
“It doesn’t hurt.”
He didn’t believe me and roughly tore open the back of my clothes.
His pupils contracted sharply.
Fiona POV
Luca’s hand froze in midair.
Five years.
He’d personally sent me to that closed school, but did he know what I’d endured there?
Just as he stood frozen in shock, Winona appeared in the living room doorway.
She’d changed into pajamas and draped on a cardigan, walking over gracefully.
Seeing the wounds on my back, she gasped and covered her mouth in surprise.
“Oh my God, Fiona, what happened to your back?”
She didn’t wait for Luca to answer before offering her explanation.
“I’ve heard that some girls hurt themselves to gain sympathy.”
She pulled on Luca’s arm, her voice gentle.
“Luca, think about it. Fiona was at school the whole time. How could she have gotten such serious injuries? Unless…”
She didn’t finish, but the implication was clear enough.
Luca’s gaze turned cold again.
“Beyond saving!”
He looked at me, the last trace of warmth vanishing.
“You disgust me!”
He stood up.
“Basement. Two days. No food.”
I felt nothing inside.
At school, being locked in dark rooms was routine.
No food was even more common.
I almost found it laughable.
He thought this was punishment. To me, it was relief.
At least for two days I wouldn’t have to see him and Winona.
“Okay.”
I answered softly, stood up from the floor, and walked toward the basement step by step.
With each step, the wounds on my back tore open. I left a trail of bloody footprints behind me.
Emma came to the basement secretly with a medical kit and a bowl of hot porridge.
It was damp and cold down there, with only one dim light.
“Why didn’t you explain?”
Emma cried.
“If Mr. Thorne knew how much you suffered at that school, he’d surely feel sorry for you!”
Feel sorry?
I thought of many years ago.
Back then, Luca would have felt sorry for me.
He once cancelled important plans just to take me to see a movie and make me happy.
When I couldn’t sleep, he’d rush back through the night just to tell me a story.
When I was sick, he’d clumsily make soup and nearly burn down the kitchen.
Those days of being cherished were as clear as yesterday.
But now?
He’d pushed me into hell with his own hands, and when I struggled to crawl back, he snuffed out my last hope.
The contrast between memory and reality cut like a knife.
I closed my eyes.
“I’m tired.”
She sighed, set down the porridge and medicine, and quietly withdrew.
The door closed.
Darkness surrounded me.
A tear slid down and disappeared into my hair.
In my dream, Luca lifted me high in the air, laughing as he said.
“Our Fiona is the most adorable little princess in the whole world.”
When I woke, there was only the cold wall and endless chill.
It’s all… in the past now.
Fiona POV
Two days later, I emerged from the basement.
My phone screen lit up, the date on the ticket clearly visible.
Twenty-one days left.
Winona stood at my bedroom door holding a black evening gown.
“Put this on.”
She commanded.
“Tonight is his birthday party. You have to attend.”
I instinctively wanted to refuse.
She stepped closer, her voice dropping even lower.
“You’d better behave.”
I silently accepted the dress and numbly walked into the bathroom.
The banquet hall blazed with lights as guests mingled with raised glasses.
When I appeared behind Winona, all eyes turned toward me.
Whispers rose around us.
“Isn’t that the girl the master adopted? How did she turn out like this?”
“Compared to the radiant Miss Reynolds, it’s like night and day.”
These words floated into my ears, but I had no reaction.
As the guest of honor, Luca accepted congratulations alongside Winona.
When it came time for gifts, Winona produced an exquisite folder.
“Luca, this is the future plan I’ve prepared for you. After the engagement, let’s travel the world together, okay?”
She was publicly claiming her territory.
Luca took the folder, but his gaze unconsciously swept toward me in the corner.
“Alright, whatever you say.”
He said.
The guests applauded in admiration.
Winona suddenly turned to me.
“Fiona, what gift did you prepare?”
Under everyone’s gaze, I slowly stood up.
I took out a wooden box from my small bag.
Inside was a yellowed handmade sketchbook, classically bound.
This was the only thing my grandmother had left me-a precious sketchbook recording scenery from various places.
Years ago, I’d wheedled and begged until Luca gave it to me.
Seeing the sketchbook, his pupils contracted sharply.
I placed it before him and said softly.
“Happy birthday.”
After a pause, I raised my eyes to meet his complicated gaze directly.
“I wish you happiness.”
Returning what belonged to him.
Also severing my last attachment.
He was about to speak.
Suddenly, a crisp shattering sound came from the center of the banquet hall.
The decorative ice sculpture, three meters tall, was falling toward me!
Fiona POV
He lunged forward and shielded me in his arms.
A thunderous crash.
Massive chunks of ice struck his back. Shattered ice scattered everywhere.
He groaned, his body shaking, yet still held me tightly.
“Luca! Are you okay?”
Winona screamed as she rushed over, crying as she tried to help him up.
He pushed her away and struggled to his feet.
He glanced at me, then turned to Winona, his voice hoarse.
“Take me to the hospital.”
Winona immediately nodded and supported his arm.
Almost at the door, he stopped and turned back to her.
“Bring Fiona home too. She’ll be scared alone.”
Winona’s expression froze for an instant.
“But your injury…”
“I’m fine.”
He cut her off.
“I raised her since she was young.”
Winona bit her lip and nodded.
In the car ride back to the estate, no one spoke.
Heavy rain poured down, hammering the windows and blurring the world outside.
Winona stared at me, her eyes ice-cold.
“Stop the car.”
She ordered the driver.
The sedan stopped on a deserted suburban road.
“Get out.”
She looked at me and spoke those words.
Outside was pitch black, nothing but torrential rain.
“Walk back yourself.”
A cold smile curved her lips.
The car door opened. Cold wind and rain rushed in.
She shoved me hard.
The door slammed shut behind me, and the sedan sped away.
I was abandoned alone in the storm.
I don’t know how long I walked.
The hem of my gown was long soaked in muddy water, heavy and cold.
The heels of my shoes sank into the mud and broke.
I could only walk barefoot, stepping on the gravel-strewn road, shuffling forward one step at a time.
Rain washed away the makeup on my face and poured over the wounds on my back that had just begun to heal.
It hurt.
I fell into a muddy pit, soaked and freezing and wretched.
I got up and kept walking.
In the dim light of dawn, the estate’s silhouette finally appeared. My strength was nearly exhausted.
Just as I reached the front gate, a thick burning smell hit me.
One corner of the estate was ablaze, flames lighting up half the sky.
Before I could react, two bodyguards rushed out from the shadows and seized my arms on both sides.
“Miss Winters, you’re suspected of arson, which caused Miss Reynolds to suffer severe burns. She’s being treated in the hospital. Please come with us.”
The hospital.
The pungent smell of disinfectant.
At the end of the corridor, Luca stood with his back to me.
Hearing footsteps, he turned around.
“Why did you set the fire? Why did you burn Winona?”
I wanted to explain. I’d just walked back from the suburbs. There was no way I could have started a fire.
“It wasn’t me…”
“Enough!”
He cut me off.
“Are you saying Winona set herself on fire just to frame you?!”
Yes.
That’s exactly what she did.
But he would never believe it.
The operating room door suddenly opened.
A doctor walked out, his expression grave.
“Mr. Thorne, Miss Reynolds has extensive burns. She needs immediate skin graft surgery.”
He paused.
“Before Miss Reynolds lost consciousness, she said only one thing.”
“She said the injuries she suffered must be repaid by her personally.”
The “her” in the doctor’s words referred to me.
Use my skin for Winona Reynolds’s grafts.
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