Author: Momo Chan

Before our honeymoon, my husband secretly canceled our tickets behind my back. He switched to a flight for a solo trip with the girl he grew up with. He even booked a romantic hotel. Even his buddies couldn’t stand it and tried to talk him out of it: [“Isn’t this going too far? Jasmine has been looking forward to this for so long.”] But Frederick just brushed off their advice without a care. [“It’s Lily’s birthday wish—one last solo trip together before the wedding.”] [“Jasmine always makes a fuss over these little things. It’s getting annoying.”] [“This time, it’ll teach her a lesson.”] The Lily that Frederick mentioned was the delicate girl he’d known since childhood. And I was Jasmine, the one who apparently got on everyone’s nerves. I didn’t argue or make a scene. I pretended to know nothing. Quietly, I canceled the honeymoon, bought a one-way ticket to another country. My phone lagged as the ticket cancellation page kept loading. Meanwhile, on the pink tablet, the group chat named [“Snow White and Her Seven Dwarves”] kept lighting up with notifications. I opened the chat. Lily’s profile picture immediately dominated the entire screen. [Princess]: What’s your problem? [Princess]: Every single one of you is taking Jasmine’s side. Someone who didn’t know better would think you’d all slept with her. [Princess]: Right, right, it’s all my fault. [Princess]: I’m the bitch. I shouldn’t have a birthday, and I definitely shouldn’t have wished for Frederick to go on a solo trip with me. [Princess]: I should be like all of you—Jasmine’s loyal dogs. [Princess]: You’re the real family. I’m just the outsider. Happy now? Frederick, who’d been radio silent in my messages for two days claiming he was “busy,” replied instantly in the group. He tagged the other six guys with a single [?] A row of dwarf avatars immediately backpedaled: [Our bad, our bad.] [It’s just a solo trip, isn’t it? If Princess Lily asks, forget Frederick going—] [All six of us will tag along as bodyguards.] Lily cursed them out: [Get lost. Jasmine is your real master.] Dwarf: [Jasmine? She’s nothing. They had a wedding but never registered the marriage.] [Getting dumped is practically guaranteed at this point.] I blinked, staring at this chat that was far too lively without me in it. If Lily hadn’t left her tablet in Frederick’s car, I wouldn’t even have had the privilege of witnessing this joy. I’d still be foolishly planning our itinerary, excited for our honeymoon. My phone buzzed. Finally, the cancellation confirmation popped up. I stared at the empty itinerary, silent for a long moment. Returning to the main screen, I entered a new destination and made a call. “Mom, I’ll go to Australia with you.”

On the other end, Mom immediately sensed something was wrong. After all, she’d only turned down the opportunity to go abroad because of me. “Mom, I know you have a lot of questions.” But right now, I didn’t have the emotional capacity to explain this sudden turn of events. “I’ve already made up my mind. Once I finish work and get my visa, I’ll go with you.” “I’ll explain everything then.” Mom went silent for a few seconds but ultimately didn’t press further. After hanging up, I collapsed on the couch, trying to calm the emotions surging inside me. Frederick’s buddies were right. We’d only had a wedding ceremony, never legally registered the marriage. Everything could change easily. Just like now—I didn’t need to wait for him to come home to discuss a divorce. I suppressed the churning emotions and forced myself to start packing. In the closet, the neatly pressed matching outfits seemed to mock me with their grins. I’d designed them myself for our honeymoon photoshoot with Frederick. I’d stayed up countless nights, revising them over and over, and only received the finished pieces today. Just half an hour ago, I’d been eagerly waiting for Frederick to come home so we could try them on. Now, I yanked months of hard work off the hangers and shoved everything into the trash. By the time I finished packing and wheeled my suitcase out the door, it was already midnight. The elevator doors opened. A familiar voice echoed down the hallway. “Frederick, say it!” “You’re a dog!” “Bark for me!” Through my blurred, stinging vision, I saw Frederick—who hadn’t come home in three days—carrying Lily on his back. Her face was flushed red. One hand grabbed his ear while the other pulled at his hair. She was forcing him to bark like a dog. Frederick reached up to control Lily’s flailing hands. The designer heels hooked on his fingers slipped and clattered to the floor. The sound echoed. All the lights flicked on. Frederick saw me. His hand loosened slightly, and Lily slid off his back.

“Lily’s drunk,” he said with a frown. Actually, I didn’t know why he felt the need to explain. After all, when he moved in with me, Lily bought the unit right above ours the very next day. When she showed up at our door with a grin, pulling Frederick into playful roughhousing and declaring, “I’ll always be one step ahead of you, Frederick. I’ll always be the woman who matters most to you!” Frederick didn’t explain then either. All he said was, “Jasmine, you know what our relationship is.” After all, they grew up together. Their families had watched them grow up. Once upon a time, they were everyone’s dream couple. Until Frederick changed his mind in college and actively pursued me for three whole years. He thought that was proof enough of his innocence with Lily. I’d spiraled countless times before—worrying, caring, arguing. But now, whatever happened between them had nothing to do with me anymore. I glanced away indifferently and simply said, “Yeah, understandable.” Then I started to push my suitcase toward the exit. It was clearly the answer he wanted, yet Frederick seemed displeased. He grabbed my wrist. His voice carried a trace of barely concealed mockery. “What did you say?” “I said—” I exhaled and looked at Frederick calmly. “We’re done. I’m breaking up with you.” The air fell silent for a few seconds. A low laugh escaped Frederick’s throat. “So you’re just going to keep making a scene?” “Besides… Jasmine, don’t forget—we had our wedding just last week.” “Even if you want to throw a tantrum, you should at least say divorce now.” To Frederick, both “breakup” and “divorce” seemed like joke words. He looked at me lazily, like he was indulging a petulant little girl throwing a tantrum. I had no intention of arguing with him. I tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Whatever you say.” But I couldn’t leave. A black leather shoe blocked my suitcase. My wrist was gripped tightly. He wouldn’t let go. We’d only been at a standstill for a few seconds when Lily couldn’t take it anymore. She stumbled and fell to the side. Her voice, which had been sweet and coquettish moments ago, turned into a shriek. “Enough! I can’t stand you two anymore!”

Frederick instinctively reached out to steady her, but she shoved him away. “Don’t touch me! I really can’t take this anymore! Every time she sees me, she threatens to break up, run away, get divorced. What am I, trash? Does she hate me that much?” “Frederick! Let’s end our friendship! I’m sick of living under her scrutiny!” “It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have appeared in front of you two. I shouldn’t have known you since childhood or grown up with you!” As she spoke, she frantically started slapping herself. “I should just die! At least it’s better than being treated like this every time!” The warmth on my wrist disappeared. Frederick lunged forward and grabbed Lily’s flailing hands. He used both hands and feet to forcibly restrain her in his arms, stopping her movements. It all happened in just a few seconds. Lily’s eyes were bloodshot red. Both sides of her face had swollen up. Frederick held her face and looked at me with dark, heavy eyes. “Are you satisfied now?” It was always like this. The moment I showed even a hint of resistance, Lily’s depression would flare up and she’d start hurting herself. Couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t even avoid her. Before, Frederick would coax me into appeasing her. “Jasmine, you’ve had this condition yourself. You know that at times like this, you can only go along with it.” Out of basic human decency, I compromised every time, avoiding confrontation. But later, I realized something. Lily’s “condition” only flared up when Frederick didn’t side with her because of me. Her so-called depression was just possessiveness in overdrive, forcing him to choose between us. I looked down at the smug expression on Lily’s face. I nodded. “Yeah, pretty satisfied. You just moved too fast. Didn’t hit hard enough.” “Your acting’s a bit rough. Work on it next time.” Shock flashed through Lily’s eyes. She froze, about to lash out again. But Frederick beat her to it. He stood up with her in his arms and stepped toward me. His tall figure loomed over me, casting everything into darkness. The shoulders that once shielded me from the rain now carried another woman, physically blocking my way out. “Jasmine, I’ve been far too lenient with you.” Frederick’s voice was low and cold. “Lily, slap her back.”

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My sister signed up for a wilderness survival program, but I was too busy with my company’s IPO to accompany her. I had no choice but to ask her boyfriend, Marcus Henderson, to look after her. After the IPO bell ceremony, I drove through the night to reach the survival site, but I couldn’t find a single trace of my sister. I searched the entire mountain until I finally found her necklace in front of a household’s door. I rushed in like a madwoman and eventually found my sister at the edge of a pigsty, completely out of her mind. She was being groped by an old man who had her in his arms. He had promised me repeatedly before they left that he’d take good care of her! But now he’d actually handed over my sister—whom I valued more than my own life—to some old bachelor! Since you’ve been this vicious, then today none of you are leaving here alive! My sister had always loved outdoor activities since childhood. This vacation, she couldn’t wait to join a wilderness survival program. I initially disagreed, but her boyfriend promised he would take good care of her and absolutely wouldn’t let her get hurt, so I finally agreed. During our two months apart, my sister checked in with me on her phone every day. Everything seemed normal, except she didn’t like sending photos or videos. But I couldn’t stand missing her anymore, so right after handling the company’s IPO, I immediately came to the mountains where she was. But my sister wasn’t there, and the original campsite was empty. I was only greeted by a local villager: “Their location changes every day, and besides, there’s no signal in the mountains so it’s hard to contact them. Why don’t you head back for now?” I naturally refused: “Even if they’re training all over the place, they’ll eventually return to the camp, right? Besides, I’m not in a hurry. I’ll just wait here.” A flash of discomfort crossed the villager’s eyes: “They might not come back all night. There are lots of mosquitoes in the mountains. You’d be more comfortable going back.” My expression changed: “Who the hell are you to tell me what to do? Fuck off!” I immediately headed into the mountains to find her. The villager tried to stop me, but I kicked him aside. By evening, I finally found the main group’s members. The other team members had been sitting on rocks eating roasted pork. The moment they saw me, they all jumped up in terror: “You… how did you get here?” I looked around. My sister wasn’t there. I said coldly: “Where’s Claire?” Everyone exchanged glances and fell silent in unison. From the moment I entered the mountains until now, everyone’s behavior had been too strange. I rushed to where everyone had placed their backpacks and searched carefully. Nothing. None of my sister’s belongings were there. “Where’s my sister?” I grabbed the collar of the classmate who usually had the best relationship with her and demanded answers. Her conscience finally got the better of her: “She’s… over there…” She pointed toward the deepest edge of the mountain. I rushed over with my people. When we were completely exhausted, we finally saw a dilapidated village. In front of a filthy house, my sister’s necklace lay quietly in the mud. A terrifying thought rose in my mind. I grabbed a hammer nearby and frantically pounded on the door. When I burst into the courtyard, everything before my eyes nearly made me faint. My sister sat in the pigsty with vacant eyes. Behind her, an old man was groping her chest with a lecherous expression. “Claire… Claire!!!” I couldn’t control my screaming. But Claire acted as if she hadn’t heard me at all. She blankly reached out her hands, pushing at the old man in front of her. Her belly was slightly swollen—she seemed to be pregnant. “What the hell happened!” I slapped the team leader at the front across the face. His tooth flew out from my slap, and he gasped in pain: “Marcus told us to do this. He said your sister was too stuck-up and needed this kind of experience to understand how ordinary people live.” I grabbed his collar viciously and smashed his head against a nearby rock: “Experience my ass!”

My sister’s body was so soft, like a carelessly discarded rag doll. All over her body, only her belly was hard. A bastard child lay inside. “Claire, Claire, open your eyes and look. It’s me, your sister. I’m here.” My hands, which hadn’t even trembled when signing the IPO contract, now shook like I had Parkinson’s disease. But no matter how I called out. The person in my arms showed no response. If not for her still breathing, I truly would have gone mad. “Vivian Montgomery? What are you doing here?” Behind me was the man who had promised to take good care of my sister. “Marcus Henderson, is this how you treat your girlfriend?” If Claire’s safety in my arms wasn’t more important right now, I really wanted to skin him alive. “Why are you looking at me like that? She agreed to all of this herself. No one forced her.” “You don’t know yet, do you? Your precious little sister is quite the slut when she’s underneath a man. Are you the same way as her big sister?” He laughed until the wrinkles on his nose bunched together. His phone was suddenly held up high. On that small screen. My sister was screaming as she was pinned down by a group of men with various body types, all without exception disgusting and perverted. She screamed and begged for mercy. No one paid attention. Instead, it only made those men more excited. “Why! Why are you doing this to me! I love you so much!” This foolish girl, whom I had protected perfectly for twenty years, had never experienced such unspeakable horror, let alone heard of such tragedies. Marcus laughed again: “Silly girl, of course I love you too—I love the money you spend on me. You’re so beautiful and so slutty, who wouldn’t love you?” She wanted to say something else, but Marcus waved his hand sharply: “She still has the strength to talk. Looks like you guys aren’t working hard enough.” The men received the signal and pried my sister’s legs apart. The rest, I couldn’t see. I suddenly slapped Marcus hard across the face. Marcus’s cheek immediately swelled up, and a tooth flew from his mouth. “You fucking dare hit me?” He tried to strike back but was kicked to the ground by my bodyguard. My high heel pressed down hard on his chest. Crack. A rib in his chest broke with the sound. He screamed like a pig being slaughtered. “Vivian Montgomery! You dare touch me! Do you know who my girlfriend is now! Today… today you and that little bitch aren’t leaving!” “You’ll be just like her, left here for the villagers to use for free!! Ahh!!!” Another rib under my foot broke. He could no longer speak, his bloodshot eyes glaring at me. Sometimes, ignorance is perhaps a kind of blessing. A baseball bat had appeared in my hand. I raised it high. The moment it fell on his body, a woman’s scream rang out from behind: “Grab that bitch for me!!” A series of gusts swept past me. I stood in place without even turning my head. Behind me, the sound of fists hitting flesh was particularly harsh. The harder the impact, the closer the woman’s footsteps came. “So you’re that bastard’s sister? You do look alike—the same slutty appearance.” “I was planning to deal with you when I got back, but since you’ve delivered yourself to my door, don’t blame me.” I turned around to face a face I’d seen years ago. Her?

“I remember you. When our school took graduation photos, you stood behind and to the side of Claire.” My voice held no emotion, yet it provoked her to change expression. Especially when she saw that the double number of bodyguards she brought couldn’t even get close to me. She became even angrier: “You bitch have quite the memory. That’s right, I went to high school with that slut.” “You don’t know that your sister has been seducing people since childhood, do you? Acting all proper in front of others, but swaying her ass more than anyone behind their backs. She even dared to sway it in front of my boyfriend! If she didn’t want to be fucked, what else could it be?” She couldn’t stand having the attention that belonged to her stolen away. She was born to stand at the center of all eyes. And my sister’s beautiful and intelligent existence couldn’t be allowed. “Just because of that?” My tone finally held some fluctuation, but the coldness intensified. “What the hell do you know! That bitch opposed me at every turn. My boyfriend actually praised her for being pretty? The prettiest person can only be me!” “Originally, she should have been gang-raped in high school, but that bitch got lucky. Our family had a major contract at the time, and we couldn’t afford any scandals at that critical moment. Otherwise, do you think I would have let her bounce around until now?” Recalling the past, unconcealed jealous fire burned in this woman’s eyes. So there really are people in this world who would ruin someone else’s life for such absurd reasons. “Serena, your ex-boyfriend was just blind. How could there be anyone prettier than you in the world? Besides, you’re the eldest daughter of the Walsh family. That Claire is just the daughter of some small merchant—she’s not even worthy of carrying your shoes!” Marcus endured the severe pain in his body and flattered Serena Walsh. The woman was very pleased, her fingers gently caressing his chest: “Don’t worry. That bitch treated you this way—I’ll make her wish she was dead.” I raised an eyebrow. Make me wish I was dead? She was the first person bold enough to have such an idea. “Get them!” She roared. But none of the bodyguards around her moved. “Go! Are you all dead!” She panicked. The lead man shook his aching hand: “Miss… as soon as you arrived, we engaged with the people she brought. Although we outnumber them… we really can’t beat them…” Otherwise what? The people by my side were all top-tier bodyguards in the country. This bunch of useless trash she brought, let alone all being taken down. Even if their numbers doubled, it wouldn’t be a problem. “Useless! What’s the point of having you!” “Fortunately… fortunately I made backup plans.” The moment her words fell, a man slowly walked out from behind: “This is a harmonious society. Why all this talk of fighting and killing?” The clothes on his body revealed the man’s special status. I remembered him. He seemed to be the local top official. “Look how you’ve pushed her. How inappropriate.” He turned his head to scold Serena Walsh. Serena Walsh sneered: “Yes, yes, yes. Who here would dare not listen to Director Harrison?” So when the hard approach didn’t work, they brought out someone to pressure me. “But you have to be reasonable, right? Your sister is pregnant with his child.” “You came and forcibly separated sister and brother-in-law. That’s not what you as an older sister should do.” Director Harrison’s face was full of fat, and his breath sprayed out as he spoke. Disgusting. “That’s simple. After I leave, you can give him your wife.” I didn’t want to waste words with this bunch of trash. I picked up my sister and turned to leave. But I discovered that the doorway had somehow gathered a group of fierce-looking villagers. They all held farming tools like hoes and clubs. “Today, you’re not leaving.” Director Harrison smiled as he looked at my back. He had prepared everything long ago.

“She’s a person of our village while alive! She’ll be a ghost of our village when dead!” “You can’t take her away! Damn it, they said it would be my turn next month. I haven’t tasted this slut yet! I already paid the money!” The vulgar language continued around me. I covered my sister’s ears. It seemed this village truly had no reason to exist anymore. “Director! Look what that bitch did to me! I spent all my money buying a wife, I don’t have money for the hospital. How will you compensate me!” The old bachelor saw that backup had arrived and limped to the director to complain. But he was kicked hard: “Enough. Don’t I know what you’re thinking? You want to play with both sisters. Quite the appetite.” The old bachelor grinned, revealing a mouthful of yellow teeth. “Even if the people you brought can fight, they can’t match our numbers. I advise you to accept your fate. I see you have some looks. If you stay with me, I guarantee you’ll have a good life.” The director’s gaze wandered over my body, as if examining merchandise. “Just give up. Claire is ruined now anyway. Even if she gets out, no man will want her.” “Right, don’t you just want to stay with your sister? Just marry into our village, won’t that work?” The other members of the hiking group also spoke up to persuade. Sharing the crime. They were all complicit in what happened to my sister, and they knew very well they had committed wrongdoing. So no matter what, they couldn’t let me leave. “Don’t go. Stay. The director is a good man.” “Stay, stay…” These didn’t seem like the voices of young men and women, but rather death knells from hell. I indifferently swept my gaze across everyone present. What vibrant lives. Too bad they’re about to disappear from this world. “Haven’t you figured out this society yet? Justice and humanity are all fake. Only money and power are real.” Serena Walsh looked at me smugly. As if everything was settled, and I too would meet the fate of being ravaged by men. Outnumbered, I was at a clear disadvantage. The surrounding circle kept shrinking, trapping me and my bodyguards. The bodyguards’ eyes signaled to ask if I wanted to fight our way out. I slowly raised my finger. Just before it was about to fall. A familiar figure appeared. “Stop!” A woman in an elegant dress hurried over. The smile on Serena Walsh’s face abruptly stopped: “Mom, why are you here? Didn’t I tell you to wait in the car?” Mrs. Walsh glared at her, then quickly walked in front of me, staring at my face: “Have I seen you somewhere before?” At the bidding conference years ago, I had given a speech as the host. Although Mrs. Walsh wasn’t qualified enough to interact with me, she had seen me from afar. At this moment, she vaguely recalled that glimpse—I had been surrounded by everyone in the center. The famous Chairman of Montgomery Corporation… “You’re! The Chairman of Montgomery Corporation!” Mrs. Walsh’s pupils constricted as she collapsed to the ground. Everyone present was stunned.

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While working through the night on a project, my phone suddenly lit up with a notification from the smart home app. “Master bedroom bathroom light has been turned on.” “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” Neither my wife Victoria nor I was home, and our house manager Mary was on vacation. So who had turned on those appliances? I checked the app again, then called Victoria. “Victoria, why didn’t you tell me you were coming home?” She looked confused on the video call. “Miss me already? Honey, this project is really important. I won’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest.” I rubbed my temples. “Sorry, I’ve been so busy I lost track of time. See you tomorrow.” After hanging up, I watched the smart home app and noticed the master bedroom curtains had suddenly closed. I texted Mary, then drove home. I almost called Mary, thinking of those stories about house managers stealing from their employers. But I hung up before it connected. Mary had been with us for over a decade. She was family—she wouldn’t do something like that. At the community gate, I rolled down my window. “Did someone come see me today? A friend said they were stopping by.” The guard shook his head. “No outside visitors registered today. Maybe they changed their mind?” I nodded. “Probably. Thanks.” Just then, Mary video-called me. She was at home with her kids. “Mary, take a few more days off. Spend time with your family. I’ll make sure you’re compensated.” I ended the call and my smile vanished. Mary wasn’t here. So had someone broken in? But why would a thief use the bathtub? When I reached the villa, the master bedroom lights were on. My chest tightened. Someone was inside. Who? I opened the front door quietly. Before I could turn on the lights, moonlight showed me Victoria’s slippers had been moved. I distinctly remembered lining up our shoes before I left. Was someone secretly living here, like in those news stories? Afraid the intruder might panic, I grabbed the baseball bat from behind the door. But just as I started up the stairs, Victoria appeared at the second-floor landing in her bathrobe and turned on the first-floor lights. “Dylan, what are you doing back?” She towel-dried her hair and clicked her tongue at the bat in my hand. “And with that?” I exhaled. “Just got off work. Saw your shoes had been moved and thought we had a burglar.” “Victoria, you didn’t tell me you were coming home. You scared me.” Then something hit me. “Wait—didn’t you say you wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night?” Victoria ran down and pulled me into a hug. “That was the plan. But when you called, I knew you must have missed me, so I rushed back.” “I wanted to surprise you.” Her expression when she saw me was perfect—delighted, loving. Her words were sweet. But the fresh scent on her didn’t match. The bathroom light had been on for a while. She said she’d just gotten back. She was lying. Aromatherapy bath mode leaves a fragrance, but she only smelled of her usual body wash. Victoria was lying to me. And someone else had been using my bathtub. She was cheating. I checked my phone for the bath end time. It had stopped right before I arrived. My house only had one entrance. Whoever used my bathtub was still here. I smiled and moved past her toward the stairs. “Thanks, Victoria. I’m tired. I’m going to wash up.” She opened the master bedroom door for me, looking pleased with herself. “I heard the sound downstairs and knew it was you. Look, I even drew the bath for you.” I walked into the bathroom and glanced at the screen—bath mode activated. She always used aromatherapy mode. But she never wore this particular scent. Then I heard something drop. I walked back into the bedroom and stared at the wardrobe. Victoria glanced at the collectible model on the nightstand and exhaled quietly. But I wasn’t looking at that. I was staring at the wardrobe. That row of custom cabinets was big enough to hide someone. The moment my hand touched the door— “Wait,” Victoria said.

“Dylan, I brought you a gift. It’s over there.” She pointed at the model on the table. My eyes lit up. “Is this the limited edition I’ve been waiting years for?” Distracted, I turned it over in my hands. Then, while Victoria wasn’t looking, I yanked the wardrobe open. I searched left to right, top to bottom. No one. Victoria straightened the clothes inside, her voice perfectly even. “Which pajamas do you want, Dylan?” There was nowhere else to hide. Maybe I was overthinking it. Maybe no one was here. I pointed to my usual set and let my guard down. Must be a system glitch. Some program starting on its own. For security, I had facial recognition cameras at the front door and a hidden camera inside pointing at the entrance. Anyone other than Victoria or me would trigger an alert on my phone. The next day, right after lunch at the office, the smart home app pinged again. “Master bedroom bathroom light has been turned on.” “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” I pulled up the surveillance footage. Ten times speed, from the moment I left. No one entered the house. Must be a bug in the new smart home system. I told my assistant to schedule an upgrade and dismissed the notification. That evening, I had dinner with Jason, an old friend I hadn’t seen in a while. We talked about childhood dreams. I smiled and pulled up a photo on my phone. “Look what my wife brought me from her business trip.” Jason studied it. “This is a limited edition—hard to find now. Too bad about the lipstick mark on it. Kind of ruins the collectible.” I froze. Why would Victoria put lipstick on a model? It didn’t even come in a gift box. Or had she bought me a counterfeit? I video-called Victoria. When I told her, she apologized quickly. “Sorry, Dylan. I noticed my lip color looked pale and touched it up at my vanity. I don’t know anything about collectibles. I’ll get you another one.” This model was years old, nearly impossible to find. I was already grateful she’d managed to get one at all. I smiled and dropped it. Then my phone pinged again. The bathtub was in aromatherapy mode. It ended over an hour later. Victoria never washed that fast. The system really was broken. A week later, I was about to board a train for a business trip to the neighboring city when the security guard called. “Mr. Sullivan, your friend just registered your unit number and went in.” I’d mentioned that once. I didn’t expect the guard to remember, or to actually pass it along. I left the boarding gate and opened the surveillance app. Three minutes later, Victoria appeared at the front door. No one was with her. But she knocked first, waited a few seconds, then went in. I scrolled back on the camera feed opposite the door. When I reached the timestamp of her entry— A shirtless man stood inside the doorway, arms open to welcome her.

I ran out of the station, hailed a taxi, and offered the driver double to get me home as fast as possible. He pushed the speed limit. My chest ached. If I caught them in the act, what then? Would it end in divorce? We’d been together ten years—campus romance, graduation, marriage. She said she wanted to focus on career before family, put off having kids. I agreed. Our relationship had always been harmonious. She even shielded me from both our parents’ pressure about grandchildren, said she wanted me to enjoy my youth. But now I wondered—did she not want children, or had she already had them with someone else? Three kilometers from home, we hit traffic. I stared at the sea of cars ahead. Then my phone pinged. “Master bathroom aromatherapy bath mode activated. Please enjoy.” I threw cash at the driver, got out, and unlocked a shared bike by the roadside. I pedaled like my life depended on it. At the community gate, I parked and stood there, staring at the door. My mind was chaos. I opened the door and went upstairs. I slowed my steps. My lip was raw between my teeth. What if they were in my bed right now? What if she denied it? What if she didn’t? Should we divorce? How would we tell our parents? My hand rested on the doorknob. Two seconds of hesitation. I opened the camera recording and pushed the door open. “Victoria, what are you doing?” She looked up from her phone, sitting up in bed. “I was just about to call you. Dylan, aren’t you supposed to be in the neighboring city?” I stared at the lumpy blanket on the bed. “Project got canceled. I’m tired.” Victoria laughed softly and pulled back the covers. “Then come lie down, husband. I haven’t seen you all day. I missed you.” The bed was empty. He must have hidden. I hugged Victoria and breathed her in. Her scent was faint. Then I went straight to the master bathroom. The fragrance hit me immediately—someone had just bathed here. I crouched to check under the bed. Then the wardrobe. I searched every corner around the bed. No one. I looked at Victoria. “Where’s the man?” She stood and wrapped her arms around me, nuzzling my neck. “What man? There’s only you and Mary, and Mary’s on vacation.” I pulled away and searched the house room by room. Nothing. I came back to the living room, drained. Victoria frowned and pulled me onto the sofa. “You suspect me.” Her voice softened as she sat on my lap. “I’m sorry I haven’t given you enough security. Why don’t we stay at my parents’ house for a few days? Relax.” Her face was full of concern. I forced myself to relax and rubbed my forehead. “I’m too sensitive. Maybe I’m just stressed.” Victoria shook her head and lifted my chin to meet her eyes. “No, Dylan. You’re the most handsome man in the world. Don’t be anxious. Let’s wash up and sleep. Tonight I’ll hold you and give you all the security you need.” I smiled and nodded. “Okay.” Then I checked the nightstand drawer. Some condoms were missing. I grabbed a bathrobe and went into the bathroom to check the surveillance. No one had exited through the first-floor door. Or the side windows. But when I scrolled back to days before the first notification— I found footage of Victoria leaving through the main door with that man. Together. That meant—besides the main entrance—he had another way into my house.

I washed up, heavy-hearted, and put on the bathrobe. In the mirror, I saw lipstick on the collar. Bright. Fresh. I practiced my expression before going out, forcing myself not to throw the robe away. He came to my house, slept with my woman, and wore my clothes. He knew how to use my things. This affair hadn’t started yesterday. I’d been too stupid to see it until the smart home app started exposing everything. When I came out, Victoria handed me warm milk. “This will help you sleep. You worked hard today.” I forced a tired smile and hugged her. “Sorry, Victoria. I’m so exhausted I got paranoid and accused you. I’m not feeling well—I’ll probably wake up several times tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room.” She helped me lie down, then went to the guest room without asking questions. I lay there with the bedside lamp on, staring at the ceiling. I didn’t sleep all night. In the morning, I looked at the bright bathroom lights and thought of a solution. I went out and searched everywhere, finally buying a harmless fluorescent agent. I poured it into the body wash and aromatherapy oil. Next time he bathed, he’d get it on his skin. It couldn’t be washed off without a special solution. Then I’d see where he could hide. To avoid suspicion, I waited until my usual 8 PM to go home. When the system pinged that bath mode was activated, I immediately called Victoria and said I wanted her home-cooked food. She glanced at the bathroom, her smile strained. “How about after work? If I make it now and bring it over, it’ll be cold by the time it gets to you.” I sighed and was about to stall further when a man’s scream came through the line. “Ah—it hurts! Victoria, help me!” I paused, pretending not to understand. “Was that a man? You watching TV?” She nodded quickly, her eyes darting. “The company is having an online meeting. I have to go.” I watched her hang up and smiled. This time I’d bring both sets of parents and catch her in the act. Let’s see her talk her way out of this. I led everyone into the bedroom. The bathroom light was on. Music played from a phone. Victoria’s parents held me back. “Dylan—don’t open the door. Call her out first. Give us some face. When she comes out, hit her, punish her—we won’t stop you.” I hesitated. But seeing their earnest faces, I nodded. We called her name. No response. Finally, her father steeled himself and pulled open the bathroom door. Everyone gasped. The light was on. But there was no one inside. Just a phone playing music.

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The day I died was my mom’s birthday. She had, for once, saved me a really big piece of cake. I floated in front of that cake, ghostly and hungry, taking a longing sniff. But the next second, the cake was handed to my sister instead. “Lily, go ahead and eat. Your sister, that ungrateful brat, clearly doesn’t deserve any!” Then she turned to Dad, who was recording on his phone. “Did you get all that? When that little brat comes back, make sure she watches this. Let’s see if she dares to say we’re playing favorites again!” “Of all the things she could’ve done, she had to run away from home!” “We spoiled her rotten! If she’s got the guts, she should never come back!” Mom slammed her hand on the table while cursing me out, that cold sneer on her face. She didn’t notice the panic written all over my sister’s face as she held the cake. She didn’t notice her tangled hair either. And she definitely didn’t notice the dark stains of blood on her sleeve. That blood was mine. When Mom was yelling at me in the community playground, a bunch of elderly neighbors had gathered to watch the drama. One old lady pointed at my mom and started lecturing the toddler in her arms. “Sweetie, you need to be a good girl. Don’t be like that lady’s kid, hiding somewhere and refusing to come home.” The little kid in her arms was sucking on her fingers, her voice muffled. “Hungry tummy.” Her grandma replied, “Exactly, that’s why this lady is trying to call her daughter home—” “Bullshit!” “Me, calling her home? That little brat—I hope she drops dead out there!” Mom whipped around and snapped at the old lady. The old lady covered her grandchild’s ears and said awkwardly, “Watch your language, will you? There are children here.” “With a mom like you, no wonder your daughter doesn’t want to come home!” I crouched on the rusty swing, which swayed gently in the wind, creaking softly. Mom’s face turned bright red. “Mind your own damn business, you old hag!” The old lady took half a step back after being yelled at. But looking at the innocent toddler in her arms and the crowd of onlookers, she couldn’t help but argue back. “Wh-what are you getting so defensive about!” “Last time I saw you all at the grocery store, you were carrying your younger daughter while the older one trailed behind, dragging shopping bags that were almost as tall as her!” “Tell me, folks—they’re both your kids! What kind of mother does that!” The moment she said that, whispers erupted through the crowd. “Oh wow, now that you mention it, I think I’ve seen that too.” “That girl was so skinny and pale, head down, barely able to walk straight.” I crouched on the swing with my head down, picking at my fingernails. From struggling before I died, my nails had peeled back one by one. Now that I was a ghost, the wounds were still the same—raw flesh tinged with a dark purple. At least they didn’t hurt anymore. Mom was all about appearances. Hearing those words, her face turned even redder, and her voice got shriller. “So what if I made her carry a few things? Would it kill her to help out around the house?” “That bag was full of snacks she wanted to eat anyway! She was carrying her own stuff—what’s the problem?!” That wasn’t true. I held my breath and kicked the swing hard. That day, the shopping bags had been so heavy they turned my fingers purple. They were stuffed with my sister’s favorite snacks, the soda Mom loved, and the cigarettes Dad smoked. I stumbled along behind Mom, sweat dripping into my eyes, making them dry and sting. My sister was being carried in Mom’s arms, holding an ice cream cone, her face smeared with it. She turned her head, a big smile on her face. “Want some, Emma?” I licked my lips, desperate for a taste. Mom immediately turned my sister’s face back around. “Ignore her. She deserves it. That’s what she gets for failing her test and talking back.” When we got home, they sat on the couch watching cartoons. I was locked out on the balcony to “reflect” and redo my test papers. My stomach cramped with hunger. In the living room, Mom fed my sister, smiling so gently. That smile—I had never once been on the receiving end of it. A thought began to grow inside me like a vine, wild and consuming. I stopped picking at my bloody fingernails and looked up at Mom. She was arguing back and forth with the neighbors, her pretty eyes blazing like a fire that would never go out. If Mom found out I was dead, would she regret it? Would she cry for me? Would she—just once—hold me the way she held my sister? I jumped off the swing and floated over to her side, reaching out to touch her. But my fingertip passed right through her arm, just as I expected. I pouted, then carefully slid my finger into Mom’s loosely curled palm. It almost looked like we were holding hands. I couldn’t help but smile a little. The next second, Mom flung her hand away. Of course, she couldn’t actually shake off my ghostly finger—it was just a gesture she made while arguing. “She’s my daughter! I’ll discipline her however I want!” “If she wants to die out there, then let her! At least I’ll finally have some peace and quiet!” My finger stayed suspended in midair, still curled in that pretend hand-holding pose. I stared at my transparent finger for a long time, then slowly pulled it back.

Mom stormed back home, furious. Dad was still playing video games. When he saw her come in, he didn’t even turn around. “Emma wasn’t at the playground?” “She’s dead to me!” “That little brat—when she gets back, I’m gonna beat her senseless!” Dad’s fingers on the keyboard didn’t even pause. “Don’t say stuff like that.” “Besides, this is partly your fault. If you hadn’t taken the dress you promised Emma and exchanged it for Lily’s size, she wouldn’t have run off in the first place.” That was all it took to set Mom off. She grabbed a pillow from the couch and hurled it at Dad. “How is this my fault!” “Lily needed that dress for her recital! Emma has plenty of dresses—would it kill her to give up one?” “Well, Emma wasn’t wrong when she said you play favorites!” “Me? Play favorites? Lily’s younger—what’s wrong with asking her sister to be a little understanding? Isn’t Emma supposed to act like a big sister? I spend tens of thousands on tutoring for Emma every year—doesn’t that count for anything?” “Act like a big sister? Is that why you’ve yelled at her so much she’s too scared to come home?” “She’s got a guilty conscience! She’s probably hiding somewhere having fun, just to make me mad!” Mom and Dad went back and forth, their argument growing louder and louder. Neither of them noticed the small figure crouched in the corner of the living room, hands pressed over her ears, face full of fear. She was still wearing that dress—the one I’d never even gotten to wear before it was exchanged at the store for a smaller size. I floated over and curled up across from her, hugging my knees, staring at the dress she was wearing. Blue, covered in rhinestones, so pretty and sparkly. Like the dress Cinderella wore in the cartoons. Dad had promised me—if I passed my test, he’d buy it for me. I studied so hard for so long, and finally, I passed. But the day the dress arrived, my sister cried and begged to wear a princess dress for her kindergarten talent show. Without a second thought, Mom took the dress and the receipt back to the store and exchanged it for the smallest size. “Emma, you’re the big sister. Let your little sister have this one.” “Next time—next time, Mommy will buy you an even better one.” There was no next time. I looked down at my own dress—washed so many times it had faded to a grayish white. In the bottom right corner, there were a few drops of ink my desk mate had flicked onto it during calligraphy class. No matter how many times I washed it, it never came out. Lily’s expression grew more and more dazed. Every time she heard my name, her body would flinch. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore and burst into hysterical sobs. “Emma! Emma!” “Emma run!” The heated argument between Mom and Dad stopped abruptly. Mom hurried over and pulled Lily into her arms, gently patting her back. “Baby, I’m sorry. Mommy was wrong. Did we scare you?” “It’s all your sister’s fault for running off. When she comes back, we’ll yell at her together!” Dad walked over too. He sighed, his voice weary. “Okay, okay, stop crying. Daddy will buy you a doll tomorrow, how about that?” But Lily kept sobbing hysterically, calling out “Emma” over and over again. That night, Lily developed a high fever. Mom held Lily’s hand, her face exhausted, stroking it over and over. In the silence, she seemed to be talking to herself, her voice hoarse and bitter. “Your sister has been nothing but trouble since the day she was born. Now she won’t even come home, and she’s still finding ways to torment us…” “If she hadn’t been so stubborn and run off, you wouldn’t have gotten so scared. You wouldn’t have gotten sick…” “If she had any conscience at all, she’d come back and apologize on her own…” I stood on the other side of the hospital bed, watching Mom’s tired, tender profile. When she looked at Lily, her eyes were filled with such genuine worry and love. I had dreamed of that kind of tenderness countless times—if only I could have it just once. Now I was seeing it with my own eyes, but in this way. A sharp ache spread through my chest. So even ghosts could feel pain. I slowly reached out, wanting to touch Mom’s messy hair, wanting to tell her: Stop blaming me. Emma’s never coming back. My fingertip passed through her again, leaving nothing behind. Just like my death. Apart from making my sister sick and giving Mom another reason to complain about me— I left nothing behind.

The next day, Mom and Dad carried a listless, hollow-eyed Lily out of the hospital. As Dad folded the princess dress, his fingers paused on a stiff, dark-red patch of fabric on the sleeve. After a moment, he called out to Mom, who was coaxing Lily to drink some water. “Come look at this. Is this… is this blood?” Mom walked over. One glance, and her face went white. She grabbed Lily’s arm and frantically checked her over. “Lily, tell Mommy—where are you hurt? Let me see!” Dad tensed up too, checking Lily’s other arm, even lifting her hair to examine her scalp. Lily just stared with empty eyes, letting them move her around however they wanted. No crying, no fussing, no words at all. They didn’t find a single wound. That blood wasn’t Lily’s. I floated over and looked too. That bloodstain was probably from when the bad man grabbed me and Lily. He had grabbed my hair and yanked it back hard. In the searing pain, I lost my balance and my forehead slammed into a jagged rock jutting from the wall. Warm liquid instantly blurred my left eye, carrying the taste of rust. A few scalding drops of blood splashed from my forehead and landed on Lily’s blue sleeve—the sleeve she was using to grip my shirt so tightly. “Emma!” Lily’s piercing scream was the last clear sound I remembered. After that, everything became chaotic and dark. I only remembered using the last of my strength to shove Lily toward the crowded plaza. Then more fists and more pain rained down on me. By the time I was aware of anything again, I was already floating, weightless, crouching in front of the cake Mom had saved for me. “It’s not Lily’s blood…” Dad’s eyes were blank, his voice trembling as he asked Mom, “Then whose is it?” Mom didn’t answer. She suddenly turned to look at Lily, who kept murmuring “Emma” over and over. The hand holding the water bottle wouldn’t stop shaking. Unlike the car ride to the hospital, filled with Mom’s constant cursing— The drive home was dead silent. I followed them into the apartment complex. Just as they reached the entrance to their building, they ran into the college-aged guy who lived across the hall. He was on his bike, about to head out. “Hey Mr. and Mrs. Carter, is Lily feeling better?” He stopped his bike, a simple, friendly smile on his face. “Oh, and Mrs. Carter—happy belated birthday.” “Yesterday’s cake had extra mango in it, you know. Emma asked us to add it. She said it’s your favorite.” The moment he finished speaking— I saw Mom’s fingers twitch violently. Her nails dug into her own palm. The guy kept talking, his tone light and teasing. “Last month, Emma helped out at my parents’ bakery for a whole afternoon. She earned a little money and was so happy—said she wanted to buy you a birthday present.” “She even asked my mom which hand cream was best. Said your hands crack in the winter.” He concluded with a smile. “Emma’s such a good kid. Sweet, thoughtful, and hardworking too.” Mom and Dad stood frozen in place. I was a little stunned too. I thought about that tube of hand cream. I had hidden it in the innermost zippered pocket of my backpack, guarding it like a big, sweet secret. Every night after finishing my homework, I would secretly take it out and hold it. I imagined how Mom might look when she got it—would she smile, even for just a second? Would she reach out with those hands and gently ruffle my hair? Even just once. But now, that hand cream was probably still lying quietly in that backpack. Tucked away with my body, which had long since gone cold, hidden in some filthy corner. Mom opened her mouth, probably about to argue like she always did. But this time, all the sharp words got stuck in her throat. For the first time, when it came to something about me—she was silent. Back home, the silence stretched on. Without a word, Mom grabbed the mop and started scrubbing the floor, pressing down so hard it was like she wanted to stab right through it. Dad didn’t turn on his computer. He sat on the couch, then suddenly looked up and asked Mom: “Emma’s been gone all night.” “She’s only nine. Where could she even hide?” Mom slammed the mop onto the floor and hissed through clenched teeth. “How should I know?” “You’re on that stupid game all day! You don’t even care that your daughter ran away!” “I don’t care?” Dad shot to his feet, his voice rising. “Every time I tried to discipline her, who said I did a good job?” “Who’s the one who took the dress I bought for her and gave it to Lily, saying the big sister should give in to the little sister?” “And what about you? Have you ever gone to a single parent-teacher conference for her? Have you ever washed her clothes even once?” Their argument raged on, each of them scrambling to prove they weren’t to blame. Adults are ridiculous. Even worse than kids when it comes to dodging responsibility. I sat on the ceiling light, swinging my little legs. At least I don’t have to grow up. “Last year when she was in the hospital with a fever, you sat outside her room playing games for three days straight!” “And you? You took Lily to the indoor playground and left her all alone in the hospital!” Every word was a knife—cutting the other person, and cutting themselves too. Like that was the only way they could feel better. Mom suddenly stopped, breathing hard, and looked around the apartment. On the living room wall hung Lily’s first birthday photo. On the coffee table sat Lily’s toys. Even the fridge magnets were covered with Lily’s drawings. This home—where was there any trace of me? Dad followed her gaze, his face slowly draining of color. He opened his mouth, but in the end just slumped back onto the couch and said in a voice almost too quiet to hear: “Did we… did we really treat Emma badly?” Yes. For a long time now. Outside, the distant wail of sirens began to echo, getting closer and closer. Mom and Dad instinctively walked to the window and looked down. Mom’s hand gripped Dad’s arm tightly, her lips trembling. “Something didn’t happen, did it?”

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I had been married to Ethan Cole for one month when he was diagnosed with ALS. The doctor said his muscles would gradually atrophy until respiratory failure. I told him to quit his job, and I worked four jobs a day myself, so exhausted that my feet swelled too much to fit into shoes. But as long as I could afford his daily physical therapy, I felt it was all worth it. Until that night, when a drunk man grabbed me and dragged me into an alley, his vulgar words mixed with the stench of alcohol. I struggled and screamed toward Ethan at the alley entrance: “Call 911! Call 911 now!” He just stood there, frozen, not moving at all. Afterward, I threw myself at him, tears streaming down my face: “Why wouldn’t you lift your hand to call for help? You just watched me get attacked?” He said sorry in a low voice, and my heart sank bit by bit. Later, I accompanied him to a follow-up appointment. On the way, a woman in a white dress slipped. Ethan suddenly pushed me aside and rushed over to catch her steadily. He called out a name I had seen in 999 love letters. “Lily, are you okay?” So it turned out, I was his ALS.

The wind blew in from the alley entrance, carrying a rotten smell. My clothes were torn to shreds, my hair plastered messily against my bleeding forehead. The drunk was scared off by a few young people passing by. And my husband, Ethan Cole, had stood there the entire time. He didn’t move, didn’t shout, didn’t even make any attempt to call for help. He just stood there. I steadied myself against the cold wall and shuffled toward him step by step. “Ethan.” When I spoke, I realized my voice was completely hoarse. “Why didn’t you call 911?” He hung his head, his fingers twitching slightly—one of the few voluntary movements since his illness. “You couldn’t even yell? Just one shout for help would have been enough!” My questioning turned into hysterical screaming, piercing the empty night. “You just watched him drag me in there! You just watched! Did you want me to die?” Tears finally broke through the dam, mixing with blood as they flowed down. He finally raised his head and struggled to open his mouth, squeezing a few words from his throat. “I’m… sor…ry…” Those words, he said clearly enough. All the strength drained from my body instantly, and I collapsed at his feet. Sorry? For his twenty-thousand-dollar physical therapy sessions, I scrubbed dishes in restaurant kitchens until midnight, knelt to mop floors in office buildings, hauled bricks at construction sites, and worked as an overnight caregiver. I slept only three hours a day. My feet were so swollen that even the largest slippers wouldn’t fit. I just wanted to take him outside for some fresh air, so he wouldn’t be cooped up at home all the time. And what did I get? I got an “I’m sorry.” The hole in my heart grew bigger and bigger, and cold wind howled through it. I didn’t want to look at him anymore. I struggled to my feet and limped home. He followed behind, his steps slow and heavy—the last bit of dignity I had carefully maintained for him. Back home, I locked myself in the bathroom. Hot water washed over my body but couldn’t wash away the deep, bone-chilling disgust and coldness. The person in the mirror was haggard and disheveled, with none of the glow from our wedding day. I opened the medicine cabinet and tended to my wounds, every motion mechanical and numb. Ethan knocked on the door, gently and patiently. “Emma… open the door…” I ignored him. After a while, the knocking stopped. When I finished treating my wounds and came out, the living room was quiet. Ethan sat in his wheelchair, his back to me, his shoulders trembling slightly. Was he crying? I walked over, but saw the glowing phone screen in his hand. On the screen was a chat with someone saved as “Lily.” The last message was one he had just sent. “I miss you so much.” His fingers tapped rapidly on the screen—with a dexterity I had never seen before. “She’s so annoying. I can barely keep up this act anymore.”

The phone’s light reflected on his face. That wasn’t guilt or sadness—it was pure impatience and disgust. In that moment, my blood completely froze. He sensed my presence and whipped around, frantically trying to hide his phone. But it was too late. Our eyes met, and the mask of fragility on his face instantly crumbled. “Emma, let me explain…” Ethan’s defense stuck in his throat, because he saw the phone glowing in my hand too. On my screen was a bank collection notice I had just received. “Dear Ms. Emma Scott, the hospitalization and physical therapy fees you arranged for Mr. Ethan Cole are overdue. Please pay the outstanding balance of $200,000 within three days, or we will discontinue treatment.” Two hundred thousand dollars. What a laughable number. I closed my eyes, and memories of our wedding flashed through my mind. Back then, Ethan was handsome and tall, standing before me, making his vows. “Emma, I’ll make you the happiest woman in the world.” He said his startup had failed, that he was drowning in debt, and asked if I still wanted to marry him. I smiled and hugged him: “I’m marrying you, not your money.” One month after the wedding, he got “sick.” ALS—a diagnosis that sounds hopeless just hearing it. I quit my job, sold our small but cozy home, rented a run-down old apartment, and started working like crazy. I believed that as long as we didn’t give up, there was always hope. But now, reality had slapped me hard across the face. “Explain what?” I asked him calmly. Even I was surprised at how composed I was. “Explain that you can actually move? Or explain that you’ve been lying to me all along?” Ethan stood up from the wheelchair. Yes, he stood up. Stood up straight. Gone was that sickly appearance that required my support just to barely stand. “I didn’t mean to, Emma.” He walked toward me, trying to take my hand. “It started as a joke…” “A joke?” I stepped back, avoiding his touch. “Working myself to the bone every day was a joke? You standing by while I was attacked was a joke? Ethan, your jokes sure come at a high price!” A flash of guilt crossed his face, but it vanished instantly. “It was Lily! She made a bet with me!” He desperately shifted the blame. “She said if I married you, I had to prove that she was the only one in my heart! She said unless she came back, I couldn’t have any ‘normal’ contact with the outside world! This was all for her!” “For her?” I repeated those words, finding the whole thing utterly absurd. “So I deserved to be played like a fool? I deserved to be your slave?” “I didn’t think that way! Seeing you work so hard, I felt bad too!” He shouted back as if he were the one who had been wronged. “I wanted to tell you the truth so many times! But Lily said this was the final test of our love! She said she’d be back soon!” “So those two hundred thousand dollars in ‘therapy fees’ were part of the test too?” I held up my phone, shoving the collection notice in his face. “I thought your startup failed and you were broke? How did you pay for this?” His face went white instantly. “I… I…” He stammered, unable to explain. I didn’t need his answer anymore. I rushed into the bedroom and pulled open a hidden compartment under his bed. Inside was a laptop. I opened it, and a stock trading app appeared on the screen. The numbers in the account had so many zeros I couldn’t count them. And in the transaction history, the most recent large withdrawal was from yesterday. The description read: Lily’s Gallery.

I carried the laptop out and slammed it down on the coffee table in front of Ethan. “Was this part of the test too? Throwing money at your first love while watching your wife go gray with worry over twenty thousand dollars in ‘medical bills’?” “You lay there every day watching me run myself ragged for you, watching me break down from collection calls—did that give you a sense of accomplishment?” “Ethan Cole, do you even have a heart?” I couldn’t control myself anymore. I grabbed the water glass from the table and hurled it at him. He dodged it easily. That agile movement stabbed my eyes once again. “Emma! Are you done with your tantrum?” He finally exploded, grabbing my wrist. “Money, money, money! That’s all you care about! Fine, I admit I lied to you, but haven’t I been good to you? I let you live in my house, gave you food and shelter—what more do you want?” “Food and shelter?” I laughed in disbelief. “I live in what you called ‘the only place left after selling everything to pay off debts’—a tiny dump! I wear secondhand clothes from thrift stores! I eat leftovers from restaurant kitchens! This is the food and shelter you gave me?” “Then what do you want? Lily is different! She’s never suffered a day in her life! I owe her! I have to make it up to her!” He shouted righteously. “You owe her, so I have to pay?” My heart turned completely cold. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” “Divorce?” He froze, then sneered. “Emma, don’t push your luck. Who do you think you are? Without me, can you even survive? A woman with no education and no connections—where are you going to find someone as good as me?” “Oh? Really?” I shook off his hand, walked to the door, and pulled it open. Outside stood a man in a tailored suit—my new boss, the CEO of a publicly traded company. Earlier that day, in that office building, I had knelt to polish his shoes. When he saw me, he nodded slightly, then turned his gaze to Ethan inside. “Mr. Cole, I’ve heard so much about you. I’m Ms. Emma Scott’s attorney, and also her new employer.” The man handed over a business card, then turned to me and gave me a document. “Ms. Scott, the equity transfer agreement left by your father has taken effect. As of today, you are officially the largest shareholder of Global Group. Here is the asset report on Mr. Ethan Cole that you asked me to investigate.” I took the documents without even glancing at them and threw them in Ethan’s face. Papers scattered across the floor, each one recording his lies and betrayal. Ethan’s expression shifted from shock to disbelief to utter incomprehension. “Ms. Scott?… Global Group?” he muttered as if hearing a fairy tale. I looked at him and spoke, word by word. “I forgot to tell you—my father is the chairman of Global Group. He said if the man I married truly loved me, all this would be my dowry. If not, consider it a lesson learned.” “Ethan Cole, congratulations. You’ve taught me the most expensive lesson of my life.” Ethan’s face lost all its color instantly. He staggered back a step and crashed into the wall with a dull thud.

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My husband who never liked pets suddenly adopted a stray cat. He said he could hear the cat’s thoughts, and that it had come to repay a debt of gratitude by helping him become a billionaire. He named the cat Bella. “Bella says that before I become a billionaire, I need to sleep with her every night so I can absorb her fortune energy.” He pushed me out of the master bedroom and locked the door. The next day, I developed a 104°F fever from the drafty storage room and begged him to take me to the hospital. But he locked me inside the storage room instead: “Bella says you just need to drink some hot water and you’ll be fine. This is a critical period—we can’t go out, or it’ll break my fortune flow.” “Once I become a billionaire, you’ll have more money than you could ever spend!” But the storage room caught fire by accident. I was burned to death, my body charred beyond recognition. After I died, I suspected my husband was having an affair and had just used the cat as an excuse— deliberately killing me so he could be with his lover. But as my soul floated in the air, I watched my husband clutching my burned corpse, sobbing uncontrollably: “I just wanted to give you a better life. How did I end up killing you instead? Without you, what’s the point of having all this money?” Then he opened the window, held the cat tight, and jumped. When I woke up again, I had returned to the day my husband adopted the cat. I stared at that cat, determined to find out why he obeyed it so completely.

“Honey, if we just adopt this cat, we’ll get rich!” “I can hear this cat’s thoughts. She says she’s here to repay a debt of gratitude and will help me become a billionaire.” Lucas walked through the door carrying a filthy black stray cat, his eyes glinting with something manic. In my previous life, Lucas had been so allergic to cat fur that he broke out in hives. I’d taken care of him for an entire month, and after that, he’d been terrified of animals. But with this black cat, he acted like he was under a spell, throwing all caution to the wind. Later, to be alone with the cat, he’d banished me to the storage room—where I’d died of a high fever. I looked at that cat, my grip tightening around the mop handle. I knew I had been reborn. “Emma, why aren’t you saying anything?” Lucas frowned when I didn’t respond: “Whether you agree or not, I’ve decided to keep her!” I snapped back to reality, pushed down my thoughts, and forced a gentle smile: “Of course not. If she’s here to repay a debt, then she’s an honored guest in our home. She can stay!” Lucas seemed momentarily stunned. The black cat in his arms was staring at me intently with those eerie green eyes. Maybe I was imagining it, but I could swear I saw something in those eyes—a cruel, human kind of mockery. Lucas relaxed and stroked the cat’s head gently: “From now on, she’s our precious baby. Let’s call her Bella!” Lucas carried the cat into the bathroom to give her a bath himself. This man who made me wash his dirty socks was now crouching by the bathtub, testing the water temperature over and over, washing the cat with tender care. In my previous life, I’d suspected Lucas was having an affair and that the cat was just his excuse to kill me. But after I died, my soul watched Lucas jump off the building with the cat in his arms. If he just wanted to run off with a mistress, I was already dead—why would he kill himself too? There had to be a secret I didn’t know. While Lucas was out buying cat food, I posted a reward notice in our building’s residents’ group chat, hoping to find the cat’s owner and get some clues. Unfortunately, my message went nowhere. Either no one had seen the cat, or they assumed it was spam. Only one message caught my attention. Someone told me to get rid of the cat immediately—or else there’d be minor troubles at best, and a deadly disaster at worst. I was about to reply when Lucas came home with armfuls of shopping bags. He saw what was on my phone, and his expression darkened. “You can’t even stand me having a cat? How much does keeping a cat even cost? One bottle of your skincare products could feed her for months!” “Emma, I never thought you’d say one thing and do another!” I quickly explained: “This cat appeared so suddenly. I just wanted to make sure she didn’t belong to someone else. If we get attached and then the owner shows up wanting her back, that would be awkward.”

Hearing my explanation, Lucas’s expression softened, though he still muttered: “Bella only has one owner—me!” Then he started unpacking all sorts of fancy gift boxes filled with high-end custom pet clothes for Bella. He held up a little pink dress against her body, his eyes full of adoration: “Bella would look so cute in this!” I glanced at the price tag. The little dress cost $9,999. Just yesterday, he’d yelled at me for an hour about being wasteful because I bought a $9.99 T-shirt. I swallowed my bitterness and pretended to be concerned: “You bought Bella so many clothes. That must have cost a fortune?” Lucas waved dismissively: “So what if I spend money on Bella? She’ll give me back way more!” Bella was curled up in Lucas’s arms, those green eyes looking at me with a challenge. She even stuck out her tongue and licked his fingers. Lucas looked intoxicated by it, and that overwhelming sense of wrongness hit me again. To prove his point, he pulled out a stack of scratch tickets. “This is Bella’s power!” I flipped through them. Ten scratch tickets—and they’d won $12,000! Seeing my stunned expression, Lucas said smugly: “Take good care of her, and once she helps me become a billionaire, this will be nothing!” “Bella…” I repeated the name unconsciously. Then it hit me like lightning. While Lucas and the cat were playing happily together, I made an excuse about looking for something and slipped into the storage room. With trembling hands, I opened Lucas’s treasured college yearbook that he’d kept all these years. Sure enough, I found the name. It belonged to Lucas’s dead first love, Sophia Morgan. In her personal info section, her nickname was clearly written: Bella. I forced down the storm of emotions inside me and walked out holding the yearbook, deliberately putting on a jealous act: “Honey, are you still not over her? You even named your ‘grateful cat’ after her?” Lucas’s hand froze mid-stroke on the cat’s fur, and his face immediately darkened: “Emma, will you ever let this go? What you fell in love with was exactly this—how I sold everything I had to pay for her treatment. That’s the kind of man I am!” “Sophia’s dead. What’s the point of being jealous of a dead woman?” Five years ago, Sophia had terminal cancer, but Lucas never left her side. He went deep into debt trying to save her. I happened to be Sophia’s nurse at the time. I witnessed their undying love and thought he was a rare man of true devotion. After Sophia passed away, I started pursuing him. I stuck with him through the hard times, helped him pay off his debts, and married him even when he had nothing. But now I realized—all of Lucas’s devotion had only ever been for Sophia. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a friend request. It was from that person who’d warned me about the disaster. 【Your family will face catastrophe within three days! Get rid of that cat immediately!】 I accepted the request, then asked building management to look into the cat. They were efficient. By evening, they sent me their findings. But the results were disappointing. It was just an ordinary stray cat. Plenty of the elderly residents who fed strays had seen it around. It probably wandered over from another neighborhood looking for food, and Lucas happened to spot it and bring it home. After thinking it over, I concluded: if there was nothing wrong with the cat, then the problem had to be with the person. After dinner, I heard clattering noises from the master bedroom. Then Lucas threw my belongings out the door. “What… what’s going on?” I pretended to be shocked. Lucas pointed matter-of-factly toward the storage room: “Bella says that before I become a billionaire, I need to sleep with her every night so she can transfer her fortune energy to me.” I was about to argue when he handed me a lottery ticket. It had won $40,000! “See? This is Bella’s power!” “Just make do in the storage room for now. If you’re around, she gets distracted during the energy transfer, and the fortune won’t reach me—you might even attract bad luck!” “Once we’re rich, honey, I’ll buy you anything you want!”

I was stunned inside, but outwardly I put on the look of a wronged wife: “But there’s not even a bed in the storage room…” Lucas cut me off impatiently: “So what if you sleep on the floor? No pain, no gain.” “Remember—don’t come anywhere near the master bedroom without my permission.” The black cat perched on his shoulder, silently baring her teeth at me, her eyes gleaming with a victor’s triumph. “Okay, honey. You focus on receiving the fortune energy. I’ll be waiting for you to give me the good life.” Right in front of me, Lucas slammed the master bedroom door shut with a bang. Then came the sound of the lock clicking into place. I turned and walked into the storage room, pulled out my phone, and opened the surveillance app. While he was out buying things for the cat, I’d secretly installed a hidden camera in the bedroom. On the screen, Lucas was holding the cat close, gently stroking her now and then. Man and cat, heads together, gradually drifting off to sleep. The scene looked completely normal, but an invisible terror wrapped itself tightly around me. In my previous life, I was burned alive in this drafty storage room. I couldn’t take that risk again. Quietly, I packed a few clothes and slipped out the door, checking into a nearby hotel. For several days in a row, Lucas insisted I sleep in the storage room, claiming that if I slept in the wrong position, it would affect his fortune. So I did the same thing every night—I’d go sleep at the hotel, then sneak back to the storage room in the morning. When Lucas noticed I looked refreshed every day, he asked curiously: “Is sleeping in the storage room really that comfortable?” My heart skipped a beat, and I quickly denied it. That night, Lucas suddenly showed up to check on the storage room. I was prepared and pretended to be groggy from sleep. “Honey, can I please move back to the bedroom? I keep feeling like something’s pressing down on me in here and I can’t breathe.” Lucas’s suspicious expression suddenly relaxed, and he smiled reassuringly: “Just hang in there a couple more days, honey. Once Bella helps me become a billionaire, you can sleep wherever you want!” Then he carried the black cat back to the master bedroom. I wasn’t lying. In my previous life, every night I slept in the storage room, I felt like something was crushing my chest, making it hard to breathe. I’d always thought something was wrong with my body. Now it seemed like this storage room might be hiding something sinister. While Lucas was out, I searched the entire storage room. In a corner, I discovered several creepy-looking talismans! I was starting to get an idea of what was going on. The next day, I knocked on the master bedroom door with a deathly pale face and purple lips: “Honey… please open the door…” “I have a fever. I feel terrible. Please take me to the hospital!” Through the glass, Lucas noticed my complexion and first looked delighted, then shouted angrily: “Hospital? Bella already told me—this is just your body expelling negative energy. It’s a normal reaction.” “But I’m running a 104-degree fever…” Lucas cut me off impatiently: “This is a critical period. We can’t go out, or we’ll leak fortune energy and ruin my path to becoming a billionaire.” “Honey, for the sake of our future good life, just tough it out a little longer.” Desperate, I pounded on the door: “Please just open the door and look at me. I really can’t take it anymore…” Silence from inside for two seconds: “Emma, just hang in there. I’m doing this for your own good. Once I become a billionaire, you’ll have more happiness than you can handle!” I pulled out the pregnancy test I’d prepared—the one showing two lines—and said with tears in my voice: “But I’m pregnant!” The door flew open. Lucas stood in the doorway, and when he saw my deathly pale face, a flash of panic crossed his eyes: “Honey, I’m worried the fever will hurt the baby. Will you please take me to the hospital?” “Pregnant women shouldn’t be around cats. It’s bad for the baby. Maybe… we should rehome Bella for now?” “No!” He practically roared it, his face turning ashen. My heart sank as I stared at him: “It’s just a cat. Is she really more important than our child?” “Are you hiding something from me?”

Lucas was clearly rattled. His eyes darted away, and it took him several seconds to force out a response: “Don’t overthink this. Trust me—you’ll feel better soon.” He reached out to help me up, but suddenly came a soft “meow~” Lucas snatched his hand back, his expression instantly darkening: “This is all your fault. What are you screaming about? You woke up Bella! If she doesn’t rest properly, how is she supposed to bring me fortune?” The door slammed shut. From inside came the sound of him cooing at Bella. I slid down to the floor, my back against the door, my entire body cold. The last shred of hope I had for this man crumbled completely. I pulled out my phone, found that person’s contact, and had just finished sending a message when Lucas suddenly burst out. He stormed into the storage room and pointed at the cross around my neck: “Take off that cross and give it to Bella.” “Bella says the cross will help her gather wealth better, and help me achieve my dream of getting rich faster.” I instinctively clutched my chest and stepped back warily: “No. This is the only thing I have left from my mother. I can’t give it to a cat.” “Honey, it’s just a piece of silver. Is it more important than our family’s fortune? Once I’m rich, I’ll buy you ten of them—a hundred!” Lucas lost his patience. He lunged forward, grabbed a fistful of my hair to force my head back, and roughly yanked at the red cord with his other hand. The cord snapped. A burning sting flared across my neck, but it was nothing compared to the coldness in my heart. He didn’t even glance at me. He turned and gently hung the cross around the black cat’s neck: “Bella, it looks so pretty on you. This is yours now!” The black cat rubbed affectionately against his hand, straightening up and glancing at me as if showing off. “Crack!” A sharp shattering sound. The cross lay in pieces on the floor. The black cat was smugly licking her paw—she had clearly knocked it off on purpose. “Bella, you little troublemaker!” Lucas didn’t scold her at all. Instead, he picked her up adoringly and kissed her: “Breaking it is good—’shattered’ sounds like ‘safe’ in Chinese. Out with the old, in with the new. Bella’s just helping me dispel bad luck!” I stumbled forward and picked up the fragments one by one with trembling hands. The sharp edges cut my fingers. The pain was excruciating. This was the last memento from my mother, and now it was destroyed too. “Meow~” The black cat let out a satisfied, drawn-out cry, as if mocking my futile efforts. “Enough. Stop standing there looking so miserable—it’s depressing.” Lucas frowned and waved his hand dismissively. “Clean that up. All those sharp pieces everywhere—what if they hurt Bella’s paws?” Then he turned and walked away, carrying the cat. I cradled the broken cross, tears streaming down my face. Just then, my phone buzzed. I struggled to pull it out. Just one short line of text, but it made me instantly alert, my blood running cold: “Your home has been set up with a ‘Soul Exchange Formation’! Run while you still can!” The overwhelming terror crushed my grief. I tiptoed toward the front door. One step. Two steps… I gripped the door handle and pressed down gently. Click! The door opened. Joy surged through me. I was about to rush out. A large hand suddenly reached from behind me, slamming the door shut with force: “Honey, you’ve been reborn too, haven’t you?”

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It was the tenth year since Chloe, my best friend, and I transmigrated to this world. She told me that if she died, she could return to our original world. With those words, she jumped from the top of a skyscraper. Blood splattered all over her husband. The man who’d been cursing her as shameless just moments before let out a guttural wail. I, on the other hand, watched impassively as my husband, the Godfather of this mafia empire, stood next to his first love. I think it’s time for me to go home too. When Chloe plunged to her death in front of me, I had actually prepared myself. But the sheer amount of blood still stung my eyes. That night, Chloe’s face haunted my dreams. She smiled beautifully, then tears of blood streamed down her face. I woke up with a gasp, my shirt drenched in cold sweat, clinging uncomfortably to my skin. A maid waiting outside the bedroom stepped forward to help me change, but I waved her off. “Get me some hot water. I need a bath.” I remembered when we first arrived in this world, Chloe always complained about how primitive bathing was here. Not like back home, where a quick shower got you clean in minutes. Now, she was gone clean, too. Chloe and I were childhood best friends, so close our parents once suspected we were a couple. Little did they know, we both had our own crushes and often shared dating tips. One day after work, we met up to go to a bar. We got into a car accident on the way and woke up here. We had been chosen by some mysterious force, thrown into this trial of fate. The rules of this world told us that as long as we fulfilled the mission given to us, we could go home. It even gave us a chance to choose our destiny. Chloe, at the time, was so charmed by Arthur, dressed in his crisp white suit, that she insisted on making him her target. I was left with no choice but to pursue Dante, the struggling second young master. We went through countless hardships, Chloe and I nearly died several times. Fortunately, Arthur and Dante were best friends, and our goals aligned. When we finally helped Dante seize control of the family, I gave up my title as chief operative, content to assist him by his side. Chloe also married Arthur. They opened the most popular dessert shop in the main district, becoming the financial backbone of the entire organization. We both thought our mission was accomplished. But that mysterious force simply said, “The trial continues.” As Chloe and I wondered what was next, Dante’s and Arthur’s idealized first love, Seraphina, returned to the main district. Neither Chloe nor I had ever heard of this Seraphina. We asked that force, and only then did we learn she was a childhood playmate of our partners. Apparently, Seraphina had been gravely injured saving Dante, almost dying, and was sent abroad by her family to recuperate. She hadn’t appeared in the main district since. That force didn’t know why Seraphina suddenly returned either. “The trajectories of fate hold deep meaning. The chosen need only follow the natural course. When all debts are paid, and all fates resolved, then, and only then, will you return.” That cold, emotionless voice immediately grabbed my attention. Even then, I felt Seraphina’s appearance would turn our lives upside down. Chloe, however, naively thought it was no big deal. She continued to revolve around Arthur every day, paying no mind to Seraphina. I remembered Chloe’s agonizing eyes at the end. She hated pain more than anything since she was a child. The moment she jumped without hesitation, I was genuinely terrified. I never expected her to choose such a desperate path. In truth, I had no idea if Chloe’s method could actually return us to our original world. That voice had never told me that death was an escape from this trial. If Chloe couldn’t go back, I didn’t even want to think about it. But I knew one thing: this score, I would settle it, sooner or later.

“Valerie! Valerie! Tell me, what did Chloe say to you in the end?” Arthur burst in while I was changing after my bath. His usually handsome and gentle face was now as pale as a ghost. His eyes, fixed on me, looked as if they could weep blood. I adjusted my shirt, a cold sneer playing on my lips. I had no intention of responding to him. “Valerie! Say something!” Arthur actually dared to step forward and grab me. I shoved him away, but unfortunately, he didn’t fall. Seraphina followed close behind, catching him. “Valerie, I know you’re upset about Chloe’s death, but don’t take it out on Arthur. What kind of power is it to bully someone like this?” I glanced at Seraphina. Her eyes weren’t exactly friendly. If you looked closely, you could even see a hint of provocation. “What are you, a nobody? Talking to me like that? Get lost.” “You!” “Valerie! Are you insane!” Before Seraphina could say anything more, Godfather Dante strode in. What a lively morning in my apartment. This was the first time since Seraphina came back. “Dante, don’t be angry. Valerie must be too heartbroken.” Seraphina put on her usual act of helpless vulnerability, which made my stomach churn. “Valerie, please, I’m begging you, just tell me, okay?” I had forgotten Arthur was still there. He tugged at my sleeve, filling me with disgust. “Chloe said her biggest regret in this life was choosing you.” With that, I ignored Arthur’s reaction and prepared to leave this hateful room. Arthur, upon hearing my words, started muttering “Impossible, impossible” like a madman and rushed out. I, meanwhile, was grabbed by the arm by Dante. “Valerie, you haven’t apologized to Seraphina yet.” I was too stunned. He must have lost his damn mind. “Godfather, it’s fine. Valerie is so powerful, your chief operative, a woman of such high standing. I’m just… nothing compared to her.” Seraphina’s words, feigning humility, flowed out again. And Dante, of course, fell for it every time. “I am the master of this family, and Seraphina, you are my savior. Naturally, you are far nobler than anyone else.” Dante’s icy words struck my heart. How utterly heartless. I looked at Dante’s handsome face and remembered the first time I met him. I had been in this world for a month then, and Chloe had already crossed paths with Arthur. Guided by that voice, I approached Dante. At the time, he was an unfavored second young master. Although he was the previous Godfather’s son, his father didn’t like him. In the family, an unfavored son was worse off than a regular subordinate. I met Dante in the garden, being bullied by other henchmen, during a family gathering with my father. His face was bruised and scarred, but his eyes were like those of a bloodthirsty wolf. At that moment, I was quite pleased with the destiny that voice had arranged for me. I saved him, taking him under my protection. I used the family’s influence to push him, step by step, to the position of Godfather. For him, I fought countless battles. Even Chloe once suffered a severe injury saving him, nearly dying. Arthur, for once, even had a furious argument with Dante over it. That was when I thought Arthur truly cared for Chloe. But I was wrong. Dante’s attitude now… it really made it hard not to go after him. “The Godfather speaks truly. Since Seraphina saved your life, she’s naturally beyond compare. Unlike Chloe, who nearly died blocking a bullet for you, and now… well, her death was a fitting end, wasn’t it?” I finished coldly,甩開Dante’s hand, no longer caring about their reactions, and left the apartment.

I returned to my stronghold. Chloe and I had come to this place together. This was our home. I had arranged for her body to be brought here. I would hold her funeral in the stronghold. I absolutely would not allow Arthur to defile her again. I stood by Chloe’s coffin, a chilling sadness in my heart. Chloe had always been my sunshine since she was a child. Lively, cheerful, pure of heart. She always preferred mature, strong men. Arthur happened to be that kind of man — outwardly gentle, but with a forceful personality. Chloe truly fell in love with him later on. Chloe once even giggled and told me she didn’t want to go back. She wanted me to stay with her too. But even such a pure Chloe was now forced into an uncertain fate between life and death. How could I not hate them? Chloe and I had vastly different personalities. I had always been one to hold grudges, to exact an eye for an eye. If someone even dirtied my shoes, I’d make sure to ruin something of theirs. How much more so now, when I’d been humiliated and trampled on? I just wondered if they could truly withstand my wrath. “Chief Operative, Arthur is at the gate, insisting on coming in.” My subordinate came in to report. I had already guessed Arthur wouldn’t give up easily. But his belated affection meant less than dirt. Arthur had long since lost his chance. “Arthur, I won’t let you disturb Chloe again. And you don’t need to cause a scene here.” I stood in the main hall, coldly looking at the disheveled Arthur. “Valerie! Chloe was my wife, you can’t stop me!” Arthur cried out, his voice hoarse. The corner of my mouth turned up in a half-smile, half-sneer. “If I’m not mistaken, you tore up your marriage certificate a long time ago.” When Seraphina first returned, for some reason, she always seemed to be at odds with Chloe. Incidents of her provoking Chloe behind her back were endless. Chloe, furious, taught her a lesson, only for Seraphina to run and tell tales. Arthur argued with Chloe over it many times. Chloe never said much during these arguments; she just came to me to drink in silence. Once sober, she would continue to dote on Arthur, showering him with care. I fumed at her meekness, wanting to stand up for her several times, but she always refused. Until one time, Chloe accompanied Arthur to a dinner party at the main manor, and Seraphina cornered Chloe in the back garden. I don’t know the exact details of what happened then. When we arrived, Chloe and Seraphina were both being pulled out of the swimming pool. Seraphina immediately knelt before Dante. “Godfather, it’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have angered Ms. Chloe and argued with her. I fell in myself, Ms. Chloe didn’t push me.” Again, her feigned vulnerability. Chloe watched her coldly. It was the first time I’d seen that expression on Chloe’s face. Before Dante could speak, Arthur stepped forward and demanded to know what had happened from Chloe. I only heard Chloe’s hoarse voice ask him, “That signet ring, did you give it to her?” Arthur froze, and I was equally surprised. The signet ring was a symbol of Chloe’s family heritage; she had given it to Arthur as a token of their love. “It’s pure gold, and Seraphina’s health isn’t great. They say it can ward off the cold. Since you gave it to me, I can do with it as I please.” Chloe scoffed, “Do you even know I’m your wife? You gave the token you gave me to another woman?” In front of so many people, Dante couldn’t allow them to argue, so he ordered them to go home and sort it out. What happened after they went back, I don’t know. I only know that the next day, a distraught Chloe found me, saying Arthur had torn up their marriage certificate.

Sure enough, at the mention of the marriage certificate, Arthur instantly fell silent. His expression was pained, but I didn’t care. I was about to ask my people to escort him out when I heard Arthur mutter to me like a madman. “Let me see Chloe. Wasn’t she the chosen one? She’s not dead, is she?” At his words, my heart clenched. I almost suspected that Chloe, in her love-struck stupor, had spilled the beans about that voice to Arthur. “I know! She’s angry because I tore up the marriage certificate! She said then that she wanted to leave here and go back!” “Valerie, tell me, where did she go? I’ll go find her!” Hearing this, I was certain that Chloe, the fool, had accidentally let something slip, and Arthur had discovered some clues. But it didn’t matter; I wasn’t going to talk to him anymore. “Arthur, please leave. You are not welcome here.” With that, I gestured for my subordinates to show him out. But before they could escort him, Dante swaggered in with Seraphina. “Arthur, what’s wrong? Valerie is definitely in a bad mood right now. I told you not to provoke her, why didn’t you listen?” Seraphina’s feigned humility arrived right on cue. It made me want to plug my ears. Arthur, however, seemed to have had a switch flipped, and he stared intently at Seraphina. “It’s you! Chloe must be angry with me because of you!” Seraphina’s eyes widened, full of disbelief. “Arthur! How can you say that about me? Is Valerie biased against me again?” As she spoke, she didn’t forget to glance at me. She looked as if I had truly done something terrible to her. Dante stood there, watching me coldly, not saying a word. I didn’t even spare him a glance. Naturally, I couldn’t be bothered with Seraphina. I was just worried they would disturb Chloe’s peace. “You’ve all misunderstood me. Look, I even specially brought that signet ring, hoping it could be buried with Ms. Chloe.” Arthur looked at the ring in Seraphina’s hand, trembling as he tried to step forward. But I drew the pistol from my waistband and shot Seraphina in the hand. “AHHHHHHH! My hand!!!” My aim was precise. Seraphina’s hand, holding the ring, instantly became a bloody mess. “Valerie, are you insane!” Dante rushed forward to support Seraphina. “Quick! Call a doctor!” “Godfather, if you want to treat Seraphina, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave. You are not welcome here.” I held the gun, blocking their way. Dante’s face turned as dark as ink. “Valerie, you’ve gone too far this time! Do you really think I wouldn’t dare touch you?” “Godfather! It hurts! My hand! Why!!! Valerie, why!!!” Dante’s words were cut off by Seraphina’s wails. Watching her suffering, I only felt it wasn’t enough. “Your filthy hands don’t deserve to touch Chloe’s ring! That was her most important possession! Arthur, consider this me taking it back for her. Now, all of you, get out!” With that, I ordered my subordinates to drive them out. This stronghold was left to me by my father. No family member was allowed to force their way in. So Dante had no choice but to leave with his people. And my revenge had only just begun.

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My dad, Commander Grant, was a rescue team captain. He was leading his crew on a training expedition in the snowy mountains when they stumbled upon human remains, half-buried in a snowdrift. After reporting it to the police, his first call was to my adopted brother, Brandon, to tell him to cancel his hiking trip planned for a few days later. One of his teammates, Mike, reminded him, “Hey, Commander Grant, maybe call Leo too? Check on him?” But Dad just snapped, his voice laced with venom, “That damned demon! He deserves to rot out there!” What Dad didn’t know was that I was already dead. Those broken, shattered bones lying before him? They were my body. But he, my own father, didn’t recognize his flesh and blood. 0 “There are extensive marks of blunt force trauma on the bones, and the remains aren’t complete.” “It doesn’t look like an accident. This feels like murder.” My bones were carefully excavated from the snow. An experienced officer, Detective Miller, made the assessment immediately. My dad nodded, his face grim, promising to help find the missing remains. Before they started, he pulled out his phone and called Brandon. “Brandon, there’s been a homicide on the mountain. That climbing trip you booked? Cancel it. Don’t go out these next few days. Stay safe.” “Okay, Dad. I’ll be careful.” Brandon’s voice was warm on the other end, and Dad kept fussing over him with several more cautions. He only hung up when Brandon jokingly said Dad was going to wear out his eardrums. Officer Jenkins, another teammate, remembered something and asked Dad. “By the way, Commander Grant, I heard Leo also mentioned going on a climbing trip a few days ago. Maybe give him a call too?” Dad’s face instantly darkened, and he spoke with clear disgust. “Why even bring up that punk?” “A person who could be so cruel to his own mother, I wish he’d just die out there!” Even though I was already dead, a chill wind swept through my translucent body, making me shiver violently. So that’s how much Dad hated me. But then, why didn’t he recognize me? Why couldn’t he see that the sympathetic pile of bones everyone was looking at belonged to the son he despised with every fiber of his being? 0

The search operation lasted a day and a night. The rescue team scoured the entire mountain. Dad worked for 48 hours straight, without sleep. But still, only a few scattered remains were found. When Detective Miller came to question Dad, his expression was even heavier than before. “We’ve searched the entire mountain, and we’ve only found one leg bone.” “I suspect the victim was dismembered and discarded here.” Dad’s words shocked the officer. “So, the killer likely disposed of the remaining body parts somewhere else?” “Not just the bones, but other human tissue too. Don’t forget, we only have one leg bone so far.” “This is an extremely brutal murder. The killer is far more savage than we imagined.” Dad laid out all his findings. Detective Miller realized the gravity of the situation and, after a moment of silence, replied. “I’ll gather more personnel and expand the search area.” It was then that a teammate spotted a watch wedged in a rock crevice and brought it over. Seeing the watch, my previously low spirits suddenly soared. Dad had given me that watch for my birthday three years ago. He had to remember it! Soon, Dad would recognize me. I clenched my fists in excitement, eagerly anticipating the moment he’d know. But his eyes merely swept over the watch before he immediately handed it to Detective Miller. He told him it might be a personal item of the victim, suggesting he photograph it and post it online to quickly find relatives and identify the body. It was Officer Jenkins, standing nearby, whose eyes flickered with a hint of doubt. The next second, he spoke. “Commander Grant, why does that watch look familiar?” “I remember seeing Leo wear something similar…” Dad’s brows furrowed in displeasure. “There are plenty of identical watches in the world, Officer Jenkins. I don’t know what’s gotten into you today.” “Could it be that little punk asked you to speak up for him? He’s always been manipulative. Don’t fall for his tricks.” Officer Jenkins tried to say more on my behalf, but Dad was called away. Watching his busy back, my heart sank completely. Dad wasn’t like this before. He loved me too. But ten years ago, a dear friend of his passed away due to abuse from her alcoholic husband, leaving behind only her son, Brandon. Dad, ignoring my mom’s objections, brought Brandon home and cared for him as if he were his own son. My mom couldn’t accept it. She demanded a divorce. After a fierce argument, my mom took me to a high bridge, threatening to jump into the river below. The wind on the bridge was wild. I was so scared that I begged my mom to put me down. Later, she slept forever in the cold riverbed, but I survived. When Dad received the call from the water rescue team, he slapped me twice without a word. He called me a murderer, said I was the one who killed my mom. He declared that from then on, Brandon was his only son. He even stripped me of my family name, forcing me to go by Leo, a constant reminder of my supposed sin. I knew Dad hated me. Now that I was finally dead, he must be happy, right? 0

The search operation continued. The school office called Dad, saying I was missing. “Leo hasn’t been at school since yesterday evening. I asked his roommate, and they said he wasn’t there all day yesterday.” “Commander Grant, can you reach Leo? The school has already notified the police to assist in the search.” Ms. Albright’s voice on the phone was anxious, but Dad’s face only showed deep impatience. “Ms. Albright, Leo has always been a liar.” “He used to lie and skip classes all the time. Don’t worry about him; he’ll come back when he’s done playing around.” “But…” Ms. Albright tried to say more, but Dad had already hung up. Brandon was calling him. “Dad, I’m feeling a little unwell. When will you be finished?” The frown that had creased Dad’s forehead because of me instantly smoothed away. He replied patiently to Brandon’s question. “Dad still needs a little more time.” “Brandon, where do you feel unwell? Is it serious? Should Dad take time off to come home and be with you?” His patient words, his fussing attitude, made a pang shoot through my chest. Since Mom left, Dad had never spoken to me in such a gentle tone. He always called me a murderer, saying our family broke apart because of me. But Dad, I was your own son. I wanted your concern too. Even just one word. That evening, Dad still took time off and went home. Watching Brandon on the bed, with a dedicated nanny attending to him 24/7 and a professional doctor on standby whenever he felt unwell, Dad’s eyes overflowed with undisguised concern. “Brandon, how are you feeling?” “Dad!” Brandon exclaimed, his eyes full of delight. He leaned in and hugged him. Watching their heartwarming father-son moment, even as a ghost, my chest ached. But I had no tears. I could only watch Dad fuss over Brandon in bed. After a long while, Brandon lifted his head from Dad’s embrace, his eyes darting around speculatively as he tentatively asked Dad. “Dad, didn’t you say the search operation would take several days?” “Have all those dismembered bodies been found?” Dad’s expression froze, and he instinctively asked. “How do you know the bodies were dismembered?” My spirits, which had been low, suddenly brightened, and I looked at Dad with anticipation. Even if Dad didn’t recognize the watch he’d given me, he couldn’t possibly miss such an obvious clue, could he? But Brandon easily diffused the tension with a single sentence. “I saw it on the news.” “Dad, that person is so pathetic. I wonder how sad his family will be when they find out.” “It is pathetic, but we haven’t confirmed the victim’s identity yet. His family… probably doesn’t know about his passing.” Dad echoed Brandon’s words, completely unaware of the fleeting glint of triumph in Brandon’s eyes. The hope that had finally risen in my heart was snuffed out. Dad, it was me! You’d already noticed a discrepancy, and you still couldn’t recognize me? 0

Dad stayed home with Brandon for a full day. It wasn’t until midnight that a call came from the rescue team, reporting a major discovery at the base camp down the mountain and urging him to return immediately. Dad hurriedly put on his clothes to leave, but Brandon, holding the model plane Dad had given him when he first arrived, appeared, looking at him with teary eyes. “Dad, it’s thundering outside. I’m scared…” Seeing the anxious look on Brandon’s face, a flicker of hesitation crossed Dad’s eyes. Just as it seemed Brandon would successfully keep him home, Officer Jenkins, on the other end of the line, sent dozens of photos from the scene. With just a glance, Dad’s pupils constricted sharply. He quickly reassured Brandon. “Let the nanny stay with you. I’ll be back soon.” Then he bolted downstairs, racing straight to the scene. When Dad arrived at the base camp and was about to enter the scene, Officer Jenkins, who had arrived earlier, stopped him. “Commander Grant, I advise you not to go in…” But Dad pushed his hand away. “I’ve been in rescue for so many years. What kind of situation haven’t I seen?” “Move!” The next second, when he rushed into the scene and saw the well cordoned off by caution tape, he couldn’t help but run to the side and throw up violently. The well reeked of decay. Bloated, decomposed body parts were being retrieved, unrecognizable. Beside them lay a pile of marked, sealed bags containing the murder weapons. There was a hammer, an axe, a saw. Even a heavy grindstone. The police said these were the tools the killer used on the victim. And not just for dismemberment. “These tools were used on the victim repeatedly while he was still alive.” “We found multiple bloodstains at the scene, as well as skin tissue embedded in the rocks, likely left by the victim struggling against the pain.” “He was tortured to death.” “The victim’s information has also been largely deduced: male, a fractured left leg bone consistent with a canine bite. The victim likely had mobility issues…” With each word, Dad’s eyes grew darker. Dad, was he feeling sad for me? The next second, Officer Jenkins seemed to remember something and suddenly spoke. “Commander Grant, I recall your son Leo also had a slight disability in his left leg, and his build… I remember it being similar to this kid’s.” “Officer Jenkins!” The sympathy in Dad’s eyes vanished, replaced by deep anger and displeasure. “What has that punk been telling you? You’ve been mentioning him quite a lot lately!” “I told you, even if that punk dies out there, it has nothing to do with me!” “Besides, someone so desperate to cling to life, who could watch his own mother die, how could he ever die?” Officer Jenkins tried to say more, but Dad had already walked away. The next second, a police officer nearby received a call from the school. “Commander Grant, Leo’s school reported him missing.” But Dad grabbed his phone and smashed it violently on the ground. “Enough! Are you done yet?!” “The victim is already in such a horrible state, and you’re still playing these childish games with that punk!” “If he wants to play missing, let him! Solving this case is what’s important!” The officer tried to say more, but Dad’s phone suddenly rang. Brandon’s voice came through. “Dad, the thunder is really loud, I’m so scared…” Hearing Brandon’s voice, Dad immediately began to reassure him. “Good boy, Brandon. Dad’s coming home now.” But he hadn’t taken more than a few steps before the officer behind him called out. “Commander Grant! Come back!” Dad was forced to stop. It was Ms. Albright, who had arrived despite the heavy rain. She brought the surveillance footage from the day I left school. The red jacket I was wearing was identical to the victim’s!

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A week before the wedding, my fiancée Luna said she had to hold a wedding ceremony with her first love, Adrian, before she could marry me. Because Adrian’s father had passed away, and his dying wish was to see them married. But the company had already decided to launch the True Love jewelry collection on the day of our wedding. She said impatiently, “It’s just a few tens of millions. How can that compare to keeping a promise? If you really want to earn those tens of millions, go find someone else to marry.” Faced with her cold words, I understood everything. I turned and dialed my brother Cameron’s number. “Help me find a new bride.” Cameron asked in disbelief, “You’re calling off the engagement?” “No. She’s marrying someone else.” I smiled bitterly. To be with Luna, I’d spent so much effort convincing my parents to support us, and had even scheduled the True Love jewelry collection launch for our wedding day. But now, it had all come to nothing. Cameron was stunned for a long time before saying, “Then there’s only Vivian. Her family’s pressuring her hard, and she’s been looking for a marriage prospect lately too.” I frowned. Vivian was my rival. On my engagement day, she’d said that my marriage wouldn’t last—and now her words had come true. Time was tight. I could only say, “Let’s go with her then. Ask if she’s interested. If not, I’ll figure something else out.” My brother was quick to respond, “No need to ask. She’ll definitely agree.” “What?” Before I could ask more, a group of people surrounded me. “You must be Luna’s fiancé! You’re so handsome!” “You’re here to pick up Luna after work, right? She’ll be down soon. You two are so in love.” I gripped the steering wheel, lowering my eyes to hide the self-mockery in them. Luna had introduced me to her colleagues and friends years ago. In everyone’s eyes, we were an enviable couple. But who would have thought she was about to marry someone else? After saying goodbye to everyone, Luna got in the car and handed me a tie. “Adrian wanted me to give you this. You embarrassed him at the funeral yesterday. Find time to apologize to him.” This tie was obviously a freebie that came with a purchase. I’d seen it in Luna’s shopping cart a few days ago. I said flatly, “I don’t want it.” Luna frowned. “What are you fussing about now? You’re the one who crashed the funeral and said I wasn’t his fiancée, embarrassing him. He didn’t even hold it against you and still thought to bring you a gift. How can you be so ungrateful?” The woman who used to protect me no longer existed. Now she cherished someone else. Luna irritably opened the window for air. After a long while, seeing I wouldn’t humor her, she finally said, “Fine. I won’t argue with you today since we’re going to try on your tuxedo.” This was the first time she’d backed down this year. At the boutique, the staff greeted us: “Miss Luna, Nolan, your custom-ordered twenty tuxedos and wedding dresses are ready.” But Luna’s eyes weren’t on the clothes. She was looking down at her phone, her face showing some urgency. Noticing my gaze, she quickly put away her phone, a trace of apology on her face: “Nolan, something came up with Adrian. I have to rush over immediately. Try on the tuxedo yourself. Just pick a wedding dress for me—I trust your taste.” With that, she hurriedly hailed a cab and left, leaving me alone. The staff approached cautiously. “Mr. Nolan, will you be selecting the wedding dress yourself?” I withdrew my gaze and nodded. Of course I’d select a wedding dress—just not for Luna. After all, the bride had changed. I got in the car and drove home. I thought Luna would be out all night, but I saw her before dinner. She strode over to me, holding a takeout box. “I ran all over the city to buy this for you. Late-night snacks from Patisserie.” I looked at the box of cream puffs. There were three fewer than usual, and one had a bite mark on it—clearly someone had already taken a bite. Half an hour ago, I’d seen Adrian post on social media. The photo showed the exact box I was holding. “My darling went out of her way to buy me a late-night snack. Thank you, darling!” I set down my fork with self-mockery, instantly losing my appetite. “Don’t want it. Throw it away.” Luna immediately looked at me with displeasure, but she held back her anger and sat beside me to complain: “You have no idea how pitiful Adrian was today. My parents went over and yelled at him for not being able to afford a proper wedding. He was so upset.” “Adrian just returned to the country and doesn’t have much money. I want to use the wedding budget you prepared and give it to him first.” Her tone left no room for objection, making me feel sick. I looked at her mockingly. “So I’m supposed to pay for your husband’s wedding?”

I used to care about Luna. As long as she asked, I’d give her anything, do anything for her. But now she’d woken me up herself. Thinking carefully, ever since Adrian returned to the country, everything she’d done was for him. She’d forgotten that I was the one meant to spend a lifetime with her. My response angered Luna. “What do you mean by that? You’re not willing? You’d better understand—Adrian is my best friend. You’d better make him happy, or I won’t marry you!” With that, she slammed the door and left. Feeling frustrated, I went downstairs to run in the park. After just one lap, I got a call from Vivian. Thinking of Vivian with her perpetually stern face, I hesitated for two seconds before answering. “Once you’re on my ship, you’re my man. Try to run and I’ll drag you back!” Vivian’s first words were a critical hit. I stayed silent. She continued: “Send me your ID first. We’re going to the courthouse to register our marriage.” “I’m afraid you’ll back out.” Vivian, something’s wrong with you. I’d already imagined ten thousand scenarios of her using marriage as a convenient way to torture me. In the end, I could only manage: “See you at the wedding, Vivian.” The moment I finished speaking, Luna appeared behind me out of nowhere: “You’re inviting Vivian to our wedding? I won’t allow it!” She stared at me as if facing a great enemy: “Nolan, didn’t I tell you not to associate with Vivian? She has ulterior motives toward you. If you insist on inviting her to our wedding, don’t blame me for turning hostile!” I hadn’t said a word, yet she’d already issued her ultimatum. Luna had never liked Vivian, bearing some inexplicable hostility. When we first got together, we even had fights because Vivian and I constantly bickered on social media. Later, I gradually cut off contact with Vivian. But she actually said… Vivian had ulterior motives toward me? I was about to ask more when Adrian suddenly spoke. “Luna, you’re pinching me…” Only then did I notice their fingers were interlaced as they strolled. Luna coughed unnaturally twice but made no move to pull her hand back. Adrian looked at Luna with deep affection, then apologized to me with feigned helplessness: “Nolan, I’m sorry. Luna and I are rehearsing the wedding ceremony in advance. Please don’t mind.” “I won’t tell anyone about you hiring people to beat me up or vandalizing my father’s grave, but please don’t hurt Luna. True feelings can’t withstand such tests.” I didn’t want to watch his performance. I turned to leave: “Since you’re so eager, I’ll hire someone to beat you up tonight and destroy your father’s grave!” Slap! Luna hit me. “Nolan, how can you be so vicious?!” Her brows darkened and her chest heaved. I’m vicious? One sentence from someone else and she believed it, but my five years with her couldn’t earn me half her trust. I suddenly felt a surge of anger and wanted to question Luna, but Adrian blocked her: “Nolan, please, I’m begging you. As soon as the wedding’s over, I’ll give Luna back to you.” “Please show mercy. Don’t hurt the people around me, and don’t hurt Luna anymore.” He made as if to kneel before me. Luna quickly wrapped her arms around his waist, preventing him from kneeling, and glared at me furiously. “Nolan, stop playing your rich boy bullying games!” “You know I hate this kind of thing most. If you still want to marry me, stop making trouble!” With that, she warned me not to appear before them again until after the wedding. Unexpectedly, Luna contacted me the very next day. She launched into a tirade: “Nolan, did you really vandalize Mr. Foster’s grave?! I never thought you were this kind of person!” Confused, I called my assistant to investigate, but the investigation uncovered something shocking. Adrian’s father… wasn’t dead.

No wonder Adrian could act this way, using his own father’s grave to frame me. Turns out the death was a hoax. I sent Luna a text: “Adrian’s father isn’t dead. The truth is in the email I sent you.” Whether she looked at it or not was no longer my concern. The plane ticket was booked for three days later. Vivian booked it herself. When Luna came back, she saw me packing. Half my clothes were being thrown out, a small portion shipped to South City. “Why are you packing already?” Luna’s expression was puzzled. I gave her a perfunctory answer: “Moving.” She was silent for a moment, not catching anything wrong, and said to herself: “The headquarters is in South City. We’ll have to settle there after the wedding. Makes sense to pack early.” Then she fixed me with a stern look. “Apologize to Adrian about his father as soon as possible. Don’t make things difficult for me. Do it on the wedding day. What do you think?” After saying this, she tossed her phone aside and went to find her documents. Today was the day she and Adrian were registering their marriage. She didn’t come back until evening. I opened my phone to find a message from Adrian. The photo showed Luna and him wearing matching outfits, sleeping in the same bed. I closed my eyes, my heart unable to help but ache. I suppressed that emotion and turned off my phone. Late at night, my phone vibrated every hour. Each vibration was Adrian sending me videos of him and Luna, taunting me. Until the next morning, when Vivian sent me a message. “Nolan, the flowers bloomed. Come back.” The photo showed two marriage certificates. And a brilliant red peony in full bloom. I never expected she’d still be caring for the flower I’d casually given her years ago. Inexplicably, a strange emotion rose in my heart. I replied with one word: “Okay.” I put down my phone to pack my work files and laptop. I didn’t know when Luna had returned. She was packing her daily necessities. “I’m moving in with Adrian for a few days. He’s too busy preparing for the wedding alone. Remember to show up on time the day after tomorrow. Don’t be late.” After that, she explained at length, basically saying she was just helping normally and telling me not to cause trouble again. “Mm, I won’t go.” I said with downcast eyes. After last night, the last bit of affection I had for her had completely dissipated. Luna looked at my calm demeanor, and a nameless panic swept through her. She suddenly felt hesitant. But thinking of Adrian, her grip on her phone loosened. Nolan loved her so much—what could possibly change? With that thought, she breathed a sigh of relief, stopped pestering me, and disappeared from my view. I watched her departing figure and made a phone call. That evening, a helicopter landed in the plaza. A man approached. “Mr. Nolan, the helicopter you ordered has arrived. It will safely deliver you to South City in half an hour.” I nodded, then handed him a document envelope. “Deliver this envelope to the wedding venue tomorrow. It’s my wedding gift to the bride and groom.”

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On our wedding anniversary, my sister Lila miscarried because of a slap I gave her. Everyone called me vicious and cruel. “When you do something wrong, you have to face the consequences.” My husband Ethan and my parents forced me to sign divorce papers, then sent me to jail. The day I got out, Ethan and Lila were getting married. I didn’t show up to cause a scene at their wedding like everyone expected. Instead, I boarded a train to another city and disappeared without a trace. … Seven years later. I unexpectedly ran into Ethan at the entrance of a small-town hospital emergency room. Just then, a child’s voice suddenly piped up behind me. “Mommy, how much longer? My tummy is so hungry.” Staring at the little face that looked so much like his own, Ethan’s eyes instantly turned red. “Whose child is she?” He was a patient’s family member, bringing his pregnant wife here for threatened miscarriage. And I was the on-duty doctor in the emergency room. “Clara?” Recognizing me, Ethan froze, instinctively looking at my palm. There was a shocking scar there. “You…” His Adam’s apple bobbed twice. The question he wanted to ask got stuck in his throat when he saw my cold, emotionless eyes. His gaze shifted to the child beside me. I moved the child behind me protectively and said to him coolly: “Family members please wait outside.” My eyes were calm, revealing no emotion whatsoever. As if I were looking at just another ordinary patient’s family member. After the emergency treatment ended, I carefully explained the post-procedure precautions to him. Ethan seemed to be listening attentively, nodding constantly, but his expression was clearly distracted. Finally, he asked a completely unrelated question. “After you got out, why didn’t you come home? We were all worried about you.” “And this child…” Just then, a nurse called for me. I nodded politely at Ethan, took my daughter’s small hand, and quickly left. “Mommy, who was that man just now?” My daughter looked back curiously. My voice was flat: “A patient’s family member.” “He looked like he was crying. He kept watching us.” I didn’t break stride: “You saw wrong.” The nanny who usually took care of my daughter had an emergency, so I had no choice but to bring her to the hospital. Fortunately, the nanny just called me. She’d finished her business and would be here soon to pick up my daughter. That evening, emergency cases kept coming in. I stayed busy until late into the night before finally dragging my exhausted body back to my office. I didn’t expect Ethan to still be waiting at the door. I frowned slightly: “Does Mr. Walker need something else?” The overly distant form of address made Ethan daze for a moment. “Mr. Walker can rest assured, Mrs. Walker’s condition isn’t serious. If there are no problems after observation overnight, she can be discharged tomorrow morning.” My tone was no different from how I spoke to other patients’ family members. Perhaps it was the words “Mrs. Walker” that touched some nerve in him. I clearly saw Ethan’s eyes redden, emotions churning. He seemed to have a thousand things to say, but his lips moved twice, and in the end, he only managed to say two words in a hoarse voice: “Thank you!” “If Mr. Walker has nothing else, I’ll be leaving now. If anything comes up, you can find the other on-duty doctors.” I nodded slightly and turned to leave. As I passed the nurses’ station, a young nurse grabbed me with a gossipy expression. “Dr. Reed, that was Ethan Walker, Manhattan’s most famous lawyer, right?” I nodded: “Yes.” “I heard Attorney Walker has never lost a case since he started practicing. They call him a legend in the entire legal field.” “Handsome, gentle, and rich—Mrs. Walker is so lucky. I heard they came here specifically to pray at the mountain temple for the baby Mrs. Walker is carrying.” As the young nurse spoke, her eyes showed undisguised admiration for Ethan and undisguised envy for Mrs. Walker. I smiled without saying anything. The current Mrs. Walker was indeed very fortunate. She had a husband who loved her, parents who doted on her, and a baby about to be born. She was practically showered with endless love and favor. Almost no one knew she was the other woman who had successfully taken the original wife’s place. My phone vibrated, snapping me back to reality. [Sorry, something urgent came up at the company. I’ll come get you a bit later.] I curved my lips slightly and replied: [You handle your business first. I’ll take a cab home.] Almost as soon as I sent the message, I received a reply: [Be careful on the road. Remember to text me when you get home.] Putting away my phone, I only then noticed it had started snowing outside. After waiting a long time, the ride-sharing app showed no available drivers. “Beep beep!” A car horn sounded behind me. A black Porsche Cayenne slowly stopped beside me. I recognized it as Ethan’s car at a glance. Because his license plate number was my sister Lila’s birthday. And my birthday was only one day later than Lila’s. The passenger window slowly rolled down, revealing Ethan’s sharp jawline. “Get in. I’ll give you a ride.” Looking at the still-spinning ride-sharing app, I only hesitated for a few seconds before opening the back door and getting in, giving him my apartment complex’s name. I was truly tired today and wanted to get home and rest early. And with the sudden weather change, the scars on my palm and abdomen were both painful and itchy. Since there was a ready car available, I might as well use it. Ethan had a strong sense of territory. Once upon a time, I wasn’t even allowed to put a small decoration in his car. But now. Inside the car, the air was filled with the scent of gardenias—Lila’s favorite. Everything in view was decorated in Lila’s favorite pink. Seeing me sit in the back, Ethan laughed self-deprecatingly: “So you really are treating me like a driver?” My voice was flat: “Just don’t want your wife to misunderstand.” The words “Mrs. Walker” were like a silencing spell. All the words Ethan wanted to say were swallowed back down. The car fell into suffocating dead silence.

I said nothing more, turning my head toward the window. Outside, lights and shadows flickered. In a trance, I found myself recalling that day seven years ago. That darkest day of my entire life. That day was our third wedding anniversary. I was away on a business trip but flew home overnight to surprise him. Instead, I accidentally stumbled upon Ethan and my sister Lila’s affair. They were in my marital home, in my marriage bed, tangled together. They were so lost in their passion that they didn’t even notice me standing in the doorway for a long time. Until Lila accidentally turned her head. “Clara!” Lila’s eyes widened as she cried out in shock. I thought Ethan, caught in the act, would be panicked or at least look guilty. But I was wrong. Ethan didn’t rush to explain to me. Instead, he gently pulled the blanket over Lila, covering the glaring intimate marks all over her body. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow?” Not only did Ethan show no guilt, his tone was actually reproachful. Back then, my temper was fiery. I couldn’t tolerate even a grain of sand in my eye. In that instant, resentment and rage nearly burned away my rationality. I became hysterical like a madwoman, attacking them with the most vicious words, smashing everything breakable in the room. The room was a complete mess. Lila cowered behind Ethan, trembling with fear. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to. Your husband and I just couldn’t help ourselves.” Lila’s voice carried an obvious sob. At this moment, her eyes were misty with tears, like a fragile white lotus flower, innocent and helpless. Completely different from the passionate, unrestrained woman on the bed just moments ago. Ethan carefully shielded Lila behind him, looking at me with condemning eyes. “You’re scaring Lila!” “Look at yourself right now. How are you any different from a lunatic?” I thought I was the one going crazy. I sent photos and videos of Lila and Ethan to our family group chat. I wanted everyone to see their ugly faces. Who would have thought, the moment the video was sent, my parents called with scolding words. “Clara Reed, have you lost your mind?” “Delete those photos and videos right now! If others see them, how will Lila ever show her face in public again?” My parents had always favored Lila. Just because Lila had been kidnapped on the street when she was little. She wasn’t found by my parents until she turned eighteen. To make up for all those years of loss. Dad and Mom were especially indulgent and doting toward her. And they demanded that I accommodate my sister in everything, always putting Lila first. Even our birthdays—because mine was only one day after Lila’s, my parents forcibly required me to celebrate a day early together with her. But the birthday cake always only had Lila’s name on it. But I never imagined that even in this matter, my parents would unconditionally protect Lila. “Divorce Ethan.” My sister had an affair with my husband behind my back. Not only did my parents not blame her, they forcibly demanded I divorce Ethan. “Why should I?” I demanded unwillingly. Lila was clearly the one in the wrong. Why should I be the one to give up my husband to her? My parents’ favoritism had gone completely off the rails. My chest felt like it was being pressed down by a huge rock, making it impossible to breathe, almost suffocating. “Lila is your sister. As the older sister, you should accommodate your younger sister.” As if dissatisfied with my feigned ignorance, Mom frowned, her tone extremely impatient. I instinctively looked at Ethan, at the man I had once loved as much as life itself. However, Ethan only looked at me coldly. He had no intention of explaining. Lila leaned weakly against Ethan’s chest. “Clara, Ethan doesn’t love you anymore. We truly love each other. Please, I beg you, let us be together.” “You know he’s your brother-in-law?” Consumed by rage, I slapped Lila hard across the face.

Lila’s body swayed and she fell toward the coffee table nearby. Lila cried out in pain, her face contorted as she clutched her lower abdomen. “Lila!” Ethan’s expression changed dramatically. “My stomach, my stomach hurts so much.” Lila’s face was deathly pale, her voice trembling. Ethan scooped Lila up and rushed toward the hospital. As he passed me, his eyes were as vicious as if I had committed some unforgivable crime. But I knew very clearly that Lila had hit the table herself just now. That was also when I learned. Lila and Ethan had been sleeping together for a long time. They even had a child. After several hours of emergency treatment, the child still couldn’t be saved. “Are you satisfied now?” Dad’s face was flushed red with anger. He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face. Dad had used his full strength with that slap. My cheek burned with pain, my eardrums ringing. But the physical pain was less than one ten-thousandth of the pain in my heart. Everyone blamed me for causing Lila to lose her child, forcibly demanding I kowtow to Lila in apology. Of course I wouldn’t agree. The consequence of my stubbornness was this: Ethan and my parents put pressure on the hospital where I worked. The promotion that was within reach evaporated just like that. They even used this as leverage to force me to sign divorce papers. Then I was sent to the detention center by the three people closest to me. “When you do something wrong, you have to face the consequences.” “When you realize your mistake, then we’ll bring you home.” I laughed bitterly in my heart. Home? What home did I have left? The moment I discovered Ethan and Lila’s affair, my home was gone. After I went in, I was deliberately targeted. I ate rotten food, drank dirty water. I was also frequently subjected to unprovoked beatings… While I was being tortured to the point where life seemed worse than death, my husband and my parents were accompanying my sister on vacation abroad. It wasn’t until a month later when they returned that they heard I had nearly died inside. After a full eight hours of emergency treatment, I was finally pulled back from death’s door. When Ethan and my parents rushed to the hospital, I had already been sent back to my room. However, when they saw me on the hospital bed—emaciated, barely human in form from the torture— Ethan’s first words were actually: “Do you know you were wrong now?” “Don’t forget you still owe Lila an apology. You can use your recovery time to think about how you’re going to apologize to her. Because of you, Lila has been in a terrible mood. She almost developed depression.” Ethan’s voice was cold and hard, his tone as indifferent as if I were just some unimportant stranger. They say the greatest sorrow is a dead heart. If my heart had died when Ethan and my parents sent me to the detention center, Then after hearing Ethan’s words just now, my heart died even more completely. In that moment, I lost all desire to argue. My tone was flat, devoid of any emotion: “I was wrong.” I was wrong. Wrong to have been blind enough to fall in love with a cold-hearted, ruthless man like Ethan. Wrong to stupidly expect my parents’ love when I knew they were biased. Ethan kept glancing at me through the rearview mirror, several times wanting to speak but holding back. Until the car stopped at the entrance of my apartment complex. I opened the door and got out, thanking him politely: “Thank you!” Just as I turned around, Ethan finally couldn’t hold back and called out: “Clara!” I stopped and turned back around, quietly waiting for him to continue. “How can you live in a place like this?” “All these years, have you… been struggling?” As Ethan spoke, he surveyed the surroundings of the complex. The lighting was dim, the rickety iron gate covered in rust. The exterior walls of the building were mottled and dilapidated. His eyes reddened, his voice hoarse: “Do you want me to help you…” “No need. I’m doing fine. Thank you for your kind offer.” I didn’t understand. The person who had been so ruthless to me, who forced me to divorce and sent me to jail—why was he now putting on this deeply sincere act?

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