Author: Momo Chan

There’s an unwritten rule in high society: spouses must tolerate each other keeping lovers on the side. I used to think my husband Andre would be the exception, until Andre’s mistress showed up at my door. She stood there with an innocent expression and said: “I know this is wrong, but Andre says I’m his true love. I know it sounds shameful, but I’m doing this for your own good too. Please divorce him. I’ll make sure he gives you a large sum of money as compensation.” She even bent down and bowed to me in apology. I suddenly found it hilarious and asked her, “Do you know that between Andre and me, he’s actually the stay-at-home husband I’m keeping?” “Did Andre tell you that the villa you’re living in and the luxury car you’re driving are all mine?” Mary’s lips moved twice, but no sound came out. That burst of courage she’d mustered for true love quickly vanished, leaving only panic and disbelief. “Guess not,” I said casually, stirring my coffee. I continued, “If Andre and I divorce, everything he has and everything he’s given you will be taken back. Do you still think your love is so great?” When Andre came home, the young woman was flushed with embarrassment from my words. He immediately stepped forward to shield her, his eyes filled with wariness I’d never seen before. I asked him what this meant. He just held Mary’s hand and said to me, “She’s not like the people in your circle. Don’t make things difficult for her.” My hand holding the coffee trembled for a moment. Fighting back the discomfort rising in my chest, I looked up at him. “What if I insist on making things difficult?” His gaze fell on the table behind me. I followed his line of sight. There was a box filled with pearls on the table. As the carefully groomed heir of a wealthy family, I’d never lacked quality men around me. Similarly, my excellence meant I could stabilize a massive business empire without needing a strategic marriage. Back then, I was quite playful and kept many kept men. Andre was just one of them. When I first met him, he was still a college student. Unlike those other men who only talked about money with me, he was different. Every time, he persistently asked me to confirm my love. After my business dinners, he’d make me a stomach-soothing porridge. I had low blood sugar, so he always carried chocolate for me. One year I was in a car accident. He went to a temple and climbed three thousand steps on his knees to get me a protective charm. Looking at his swollen forehead and badly bruised knees, I asked him, “Why are you so good to me?” Because back then, I hadn’t given him much money. He said, “I love you, so I want you to be well.” “If you could love me a little too, that would be even better.” Perhaps moved by his sincere feelings, I sent away all the others and gave him status. On our wedding day, he gave me a box of pearls that weren’t particularly refined. He said, “I don’t have much, but I personally dove for these pearls. Every single one represents my true heart.” “Since you chose me, you can’t let me down. If you make me sad, I’ll take away one pearl. When all the pearls are gone, I’ll leave you and never come back.” Back then I just thought he was endearingly sincere and pure. To reciprocate his feelings, I promised him I definitely wouldn’t make him sad. So after all these years, that box of pearls was still full. Not a single pearl was missing. Andre walked over and grabbed a handful of pearls from the box. The once-full box instantly lost a third of its contents. Perhaps the shock in my eyes was too obvious, making him think his threat had worked. “Today you hurt my heart. Think carefully about what you’ve done.”

After the two of them left, I sat on the sofa staring blankly at that box of pearls. The already cheap pearls had lost their original luster after years of sitting there, becoming dull and yellowed. Just like Andre’s spoiled sincerity. Before leaving, Andre said, “Don’t bully young, pretty girls just because you’re old now.” Thinking about it carefully, there had been signs of Andre’s change of heart for a long time. We hadn’t been intimate in ages. I was thirty-two, right at an age when I had needs. But every time I saw Andre’s somewhat resistant expression, I just assumed he was tired from work and didn’t push him. Turns out he was using all his energy on someone else. That girl was indeed young and pretty. I looked at myself in the mirror. At thirty-something, I was still radiant, looking as young as someone in their twenties. The aura and beauty money had built around me could rival any TV actress. Andre really had no taste. Tossling my wavy hair, I called a friend. “That young celebrity you mentioned last time—let me meet him.” My friend’s laughter came through the phone. “I really thought you were going to stay faithful to that kept man for life.” “Everyone in our circle keeps two or three on the side. Only you were willing to stay clean for him.” I used to think loyalty was the most basic principle for a partner, so in all the years I’d been married to Andre, no matter what people said, I’d never been with anyone else. “How did you suddenly wise up?” “Just realized he’s pretty boring. Don’t want to waste more time.” “One won’t be enough. Tonight, the usual place. I’ll find you several to choose from.” “Okay.” After hanging up, I had my personal stylist come give me a look that was perfect down to my toenails before heading out. In the private room at Skyline Hotel, eight young, handsome men stood waiting. My friend sat beside me, giving them looks. “Hurry up and attend to her. If Leicester takes a liking to you, you’ll be set for life.” Several young men immediately gathered around me, asking after my well-being. Honestly, it felt pretty good. After a few rounds of drinks, I went to the restroom. Passing by the next private room, the door wasn’t closed. I heard Andre’s voice from inside. His buddy asked him, “Your wife’s a rich woman no matter what. You’re never home—aren’t you afraid she’ll dump you?” “I don’t want to go home and smell her old lady scent. If you like it, you go smell it.” “No thanks. Who’d be attracted to an old woman?” “But still, you’re relying on her to…” “Watch your words. Andre’s got that old woman completely under control. Look, has she found anyone else all these years?” Andre was playing with a discolored pearl in his hand. “Don’t worry. She’s most afraid of me leaving her.” “She used to have plenty of people around her, but after I pulled that countdown literature stunt with this box of pearls, she sent all those men away.” “Andre’s the man! A ten-dollar box of broken pearls, and the rich lady’s completely devoted.” He pulled Mary close. “She’s over thirty now, past her prime. If she keeps making trouble, I’ll just disappear. Let’s see if she regrets it then.”

When I returned to the room, I sent my secretary a message to freeze all of Andre’s cards. Spending my money while badmouthing me with his friends—there’s no such thing as having it both ways. “So, see anyone you like?” Only then did I look up and examine the young men in front of me carefully, then raised my hand to point at the one in the middle. “You, come here. The rest of you can go.” As soon as I spoke, my assistant pulled several stacks of cash from her bag and handed them out. “Leicester doesn’t like her private life being discussed.” They happily left with the money. “He’s the young actor I mentioned before. Twenty years old, name’s Torres. Just entered the industry, absolutely clean.” I beckoned to him. Torres walked to my side and I reached out to touch his abs. Very firm. Very durable. “Feed me.” My friend tactfully left. He held a shrimp between his teeth and leaned down toward me. Between his lips was the scent of youthful hormones. Andre had one thing right. When there are younger people available, who would want to stay with an old thing? “Baby, please love me.” “Good boy.” That night, I didn’t stop until dawn. I savored every moment. So much so that I didn’t answer the barrage of calls Andre made. This kind of experience was something twenty-eight-year-old Andre could no longer give me. He was old. Time to replace him. Before leaving, I left behind a card and a phone number. “I’m very satisfied. Let’s stay in touch.” Torres’s eyes sparkled with excitement and satisfaction as he took the bank card. See? As long as I have money, I can find anyone I want. After being thoroughly satisfied all night, I looked exceptionally good today. At work, even my secretary complimented me on looking especially beautiful and asked me to recommend my beauty salon. Perhaps because I was in a good mood, work felt particularly easy today.

This good mood lasted until I got home that evening. In the villa, Andre sat on the living room sofa, his face full of anger. I thought he’d found out about me finding men on the side. But instead he questioned me, “Why did you have my bank cards frozen? Do you know how embarrassing it was when I couldn’t pay for dinner with my friends yesterday?” “So what? What does that have to do with me?” “Leicester, are you making a scene because of Mary? She’s just like a sister to me.” “Andre, do you even believe that yourself?” “Don’t assume everyone’s like you just because you like playing around. Accusing me like this—you just want an excuse to go out and play again, don’t you?” “Your circle is always so disgusting. Just because you’re not clean, you think everyone else is the same.” I never imagined he could be shameless to this degree. If he’d just openly admitted to keeping a woman on the side, I would’ve just thought he was a mooch who couldn’t even handle being kept properly. But he was turning all the blame on me, shifting the guilt. It was truly revolting. He grabbed another large handful of pearls from the box. “You’re not young anymore. No one else will love you like I do. You’d better think carefully.” Looking at the pearl box that had emptied by more than half again, I smiled slightly. “Do whatever you want.” Seeing me unmoved, Andre became angry from embarrassment. “Leicester, you’ve really hurt me today.” “I won’t be coming home for a while. When you realize your mistake, I’ll come back.” I still had no idea where his confidence in making demands came from. Perhaps he thought women over thirty would be anxious about love? Maybe my years of indulgence made him think he had me completely figured out? But I still moved aside from the doorway. “Be my guest.” During the days Andre was gone, he’d still come back occasionally. He wanted me to buy his little girlfriend a car to apologize. When I refused, he came back and took some pearls. He set his eyes on a villa and wanted me to buy it for him. When I didn’t pay, he came back and took more pearls. Back and forth like this, the once-full box now had only a few scattered pearls left. Actually, I was curious too—when all the pearls were gone, would Andre really leave on his own? With this in mind, I had my lawyer draft a divorce agreement. My assets were too vast. Divorce would take a lot of time, but I had only one demand: that he leave with nothing. I’d just finished my call with the lawyer when I saw Torres had sent me a message. “Cartier invited me to their gala. Will you be there?” I asked my assistant. Cartier had indeed sent me an invitation. Usually I wouldn’t attend this kind of sales event, but I hadn’t seen Torres in days and missed his body. So I replied, “Yes.”

I didn’t expect to run into Andre and Mary at the gala. The moment Andre, who was holding Mary’s hand, saw me, he hurriedly let go. “I’m making amends for you. Since you’re here, you’ll cover Mary’s expenses tonight.” I ignored him and walked straight ahead to the VIP seats. Torres beside me excitedly greeted me. “Planning to shop today?” I looked at the jewelry pieces he was wearing. He wasn’t famous yet, so the pieces assigned to him were all pretty ordinary. But they’d do for making a young man happy. Year-end was coming—I could give them to my secretary as gifts. I raised an eyebrow. “I’ll pay for everything you’re wearing today. Consider it my treat for bubble tea.” Torres’s eyes immediately lit up. “Thank you, baby.” He leaned close to my ear and whispered, “I’ve been holding back for a week, just waiting for you, baby.” Youth is wonderful. Even saying such things only came with a sense of shyness that made my heart itch. I reached out to touch his hair. “Come to my place after this ends.” The gala officially began. Various models and celebrities walked the runway wearing the brand’s jewelry. Though Torres wasn’t famous yet, his looks were exceptional, so as soon as he appeared, he caught the attention of many women in the audience. They all wanted to buy the jewelry he’d worn, including Mary. Andre said to her, “Don’t worry. Whatever you like, I’ll buy for you.” He’d entered using DL Group’s name. His seat was fairly forward. Seeing he was interested in this jewelry set, others, though they liked it, knew they couldn’t compete with DL and gave up. I turned to look at Andre, my eyes showing impatience. Though this jewelry set was cheap, it was still worth over a hundred thousand. Andre had been married to me for so many years. Even as a useless person backed by DL, he should have some money saved. I raised my hand to call over the sales director and told her, “I want this jewelry set. Also, the two sets on page three of the catalog—send them all to my house. Credit the commission to him.” The director followed my line of sight to Torres, who looked grateful. The two sets I’d added would earn him a two-hundred-thousand-dollar commission, and my attitude showed the brand his value. After today, his fashion resources would level up. I’d just swiped my card when Andre’s voice came from behind. “I knew you couldn’t bear to part with me. If you’d given in earlier, wouldn’t things be fine?” “Send those jewelry pieces to where Mary’s living now. Otherwise I’ll have to go back to get them. What a hassle.” He actually thought I’d bought the jewelry for him. Men at a certain age really do become ordinary yet confident in the most nauseating way. The director looked at me questioningly. I just shrugged. “Ignore him. Send it to my house.” Andre said, “You’re just using this tactic to force me to come home. You’re no different from those nagging women now.” With that, he left with Mary. This was just a small episode for the evening. I also bought their two flagship pieces for Torres. He was overwhelmed. “This is too expensive.” “It’s fine. I’m always generous with my people.” Items worth less than a million to humor an understanding young man weren’t much to me. “Just put in the effort for me.” When Torres and I kissed all the way to my house, we ran into Andre sitting on the sofa. He asked, “Why are you home so late? Where’s the jewelry? Give it to me. Mary likes it.” What answered him was a low moan from me. Torres was biting my lip, not giving me any chance to speak.

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On my wedding day, my fiancé blocked the car door and wouldn’t let me get in. “I’m not here for you today.” Seeing me frozen in place, not knowing what to do, his groomsmen burst into laughter. “Game over, boys. I won,” my fiancé said, patting one of the groomsmen on the shoulder. “Damn, Lucas, you actually did it. You really got her,” the groomsman said. “Transfer me the money you lost plus your wedding gifts. Don’t short me a single cent.” Then my sister, Vivian, wearing the same style wedding dress as me, got into the wedding car with Lucas’s help. The wedding car sped away. I wanted to chase after it, but my family surrounded me. My oldest brother, a top celebrity, stood in front of me. “Lucas’s true love has always been Vivian. She’s the one he wants to marry. Today is their wedding day, so you better behave yourself.” My mother, an award-winning actress, took my hand. “Emma, your sister has depression and has always been suicidal. Only Lucas can keep her stable. Just let her have this.” My billionaire father scoffed. “She already enjoyed eighteen years of Vivian’s life. Now she’s just giving up one man. That is not a big problem.” Then they had people lock me in the house to prevent me from causing a scene at the wedding spot. I didn’t cry or throw a fit. I could barely suppress the smile at the corner of my lips.

After the bodyguards shoved me into the mansion, a system notification immediately sounded in my head. “Do you confirm choosing death to leave this world?” “Confirm.” “Please select method of death.” “I want to jump off a building and die right in front of Lucas and the Sinclair family. Let them regret this for the rest of their lives.” “Generating method of death… Method of death confirmed. After the host’s death, you will receive a system reward of one hundred million dollar. Once confirmed, this cannot be changed.” “Confirm.” This was my twenty-first year in this world, and the third year since Vivian was brought back. I’m a transmigrator. My current identity is the fake heiress of a billionaire family, while my sister Vivian is the real heiress who was switched at birth. Originally an orphan with both parents dead, I felt incredibly lucky after transmigrating into this world. Because not only did I have a mom and dad, I also had an older brother who doted on me, loved me, and protected me. But everything changed on my eighteenth birthday, when Dad brought Vivian home. All the doors and windows of the mansion were locked, and they had several people watching me. “Miss Emma, you better stay put in this house, or you’ll regret it.” Mrs. Patterson stood in front of me holding a baseball bat, looking like she was ready to strike. Her expression reminded me of a villain about to torture the heroine in some period drama. I only took two steps toward the door when I suddenly felt a blow to my leg. I immediately collapsed to my knees in pain. “Miss Emma, Miss Vivian specifically instructed me—if you dare disobey, I’m to break your legs.” She suddenly shouted, “Miss Emma refuses to listen and insists on crashing the wedding! Everyone, stop her!” Several bodyguards immediately grabbed their clubs and walked toward me.

I backed away in terror. “What are you doing! I didn’t even run! How can you just use violence against me!” “Miss Emma, you think we don’t know what you’re thinking? Even if you’re not running now, that doesn’t mean you won’t try later.” “Instead of watching you constantly, it’s safer to just break your legs. As long as I’m here, don’t even think about ruining Miss Vivian’s wedding!” “Aren’t you afraid I’ll tell my parents!” “So what if you tell them? When the time comes, I’ll just say you tried to force your way out and jumped from the second floor, breaking your own legs. They won’t do anything about it!” “Get her!” They swarmed me, swinging their clubs at my body. I could hear my bones shattering. Large patches of my white wedding dress were stained red—a horrifying sight. But these people showed no mercy, as if they wouldn’t stop until they beat me to death. “If I die here today, the Sinclair family won’t let you get away with this!” “You still think you’re the Sinclair family’s precious heiress? You’re nothing but a mistake—a nobody they took in by accident! The master and mistress only let you stay because they pitied you!” “When Miss Vivian first came back, they wanted to send you away. If the young master hadn’t begged them, saying it was like keeping an extra dog around the house, you think you’d still be here?” “And you want to steal Miss Vivian’s husband? Keep dreaming!” I suddenly laughed. “So you’re not actually afraid of me ruining the wedding—you want to kill me!” “You dying from a fall while trying to escape isn’t impossible, don’t you think, Miss Emma?” I was terrified. I could die, but not like this—not so carelessly. And this wasn’t the death I’d chosen. What if I couldn’t go back? I don’t know where I found the strength, but I shoved the person in front of me down and knocked over the eternal flame my mother had lit for Vivian on the high table. The lamp crashed to the ground and ignited the nearby curtains. The mansion burst into flames instantly. “Damn little bitch, how dare you start a fire!” While they were panicking, I dragged my broken leg and escaped. The residential area was covered with security cameras, so they didn’t dare chase me. Wearing my blood-soaked wedding dress, I limped along the road with my broken leg, trying to flag down a taxi to get to the hotel. Maybe I looked too terrifying—not a single taxi would stop for me. Finally, a kind young woman pulled over and asked if I needed help. Only then was I able to beg her to take me to the hotel. This hotel belonged to my father, and all the staff knew me. So even though the security guards and front desk saw me, they didn’t dare stop me. When I reached the entrance of the reception hall, my brother and parents were all there. They were enthusiastically greeting every guest who came for the wedding, their faces beaming with happiness. Until they saw me. Their smiles froze.

This wedding had made national headlines, so many media reporters were there. When they saw me suddenly burst in, they all crowded around to take photos. My brother strode up to me. “What are you doing here!” “Useless idiots, can’t even keep an eye on one girl!” “Look at yourself! You made yourself look like this on purpose just to bring us bad luck, didn’t you!” “You want to be on the front page that badly? You want fame that much!” Mom ran over, her eyes full of worry. “Emma, what happened to you? Is that blood on your dress?” “Yes, it’s blood. All my blood. I was beaten half to death by people Vivian arranged. I barely escaped from the house.” Dad raised his hand and slapped me. Blood immediately trickled from the corner of my mouth. “Shameless thing! You just can’t stand to see your sister happy, can you!” Mom grabbed my hand. “Emma, you’re saying Vivian’s people beat you?” My brother yanked Mom away. “That’s impossible. This is definitely paint. She loves putting on a show for the media!” He grabbed my wrist and started dragging me toward the exit. I stumbled a few steps and fell to the ground. My broken leg was exposed to everyone, and the entire room went silent in shock. The bone in my lower leg had already pierced through the flesh and was visible. I had been standing before them dragging this broken leg the whole time. A normal person with injuries this severe would have long been unable to stand from the pain. Fortunately, the system took pity on me and activated a pain defense system, so I couldn’t feel any pain at all. Mom covered her mouth and cried. “Emma, how did you get hurt so badly!” Even Dad’s eyes flashed with concern. “How did you let yourself end up like this!” Even my brother, who had just been hostile toward me, was too shocked to speak. Lucas pushed through the crowd and saw me lying on the ground. “Emma?” I raised my blood-covered face to look at him. “Perfect timing. I have a few questions for you.” Vivian came rushing over too, wearing her pristine white wedding dress, looking so pure and innocent. But her face was streaked with tears. “Emma, today is the most important day of my life. Do you have to ruin it!” She trembled as she cried. “Why do you have to target me? You’ve already taken everything from me!” “I just want Lucas. Can’t you just let us be together!” My brother tried to help me up. “I’ll take you to the hospital.” Vivian’s voice shook with tears. “The ceremony is about to start. Are you leaving?” “This is just Emma’s scheme to gain sympathy. Do you really believe I would have my own sister beaten like this?” My brother let go of my hand. “Emma Sinclair, you’re insane. To frame Vivian, you actually did this to yourself.” “Go to the hospital yourself. Don’t worry—the Sinclair family won’t tolerate having a cripple around. We’ll find the best doctors to fix your leg.” I knew nothing I said would matter, so I gritted my teeth and stood up. “I just want to say a few things. Then I’ll leave.” “Lucas, from the moment you started dating me, it was all just a bet between you and your friends. You never had real feelings for me, did you?”

“Yes.” Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I once thought I was the luckiest person in this world. I had parents and a brother who loved me, and a man who cherished me like a treasure. Turns out it was all just an illusion—a reflection in water that scattered the moment you touched it. I could have chosen to stay in this world forever, to be with this family. But now, my resolve to go back was stronger than ever. “One last question.” “Why did you wait until our wedding day to tell me the truth, when you already had me?” “Because Vivian was worried you couldn’t handle it, so she asked me to keep it from you.” I laughed loudly. “How kind of you, dear sister. To spare my feelings, you waited until the wedding day to tell me this was all just a bet.” “Making me stand here in a wedding dress like a fool, watching you two get married—wasn’t that meant to humiliate me?” “That’s ridiculous! Vivian isn’t as scheming as you’re making her out to be!” I smiled bitterly. “Not scheming? Since she came home, she’s attempted suicide at least a hundred times.” “Has she ever actually succeeded? People who truly want to die don’t need to be saved!” “Shut up! How can you say that about your sister!” Dad tried to hit me again, but Mom held him back. “Enough. Emma’s hurt this badly—stop hitting her.” “Dad, I’m your daughter too. You raised me with your own hands. Just because I’m not your biological child, does that mean I don’t deserve your trust!” “You’re claiming your sister had you beaten. Do you really think I’d believe such an outrageous lie!” The moment Vivian heard that, she had an episode. She clutched her chest and fell backward. “Emma, how can you slander me like this? Are you trying to kill me!” I looked at her coldly and laughed. “If you really want to die that badly, come up to the rooftop with me right now. We can die together—how about that?” Lucas flew into a rage. He rushed forward and wrapped his hand around my throat. “If you want to die, go die alone! If you dare upset Vivian again, I’ll kill you myself!” He choked me until I could barely breathe. Just when I thought he might actually strangle me to death, he let go. “Get out of my sight. Just looking at you disgusts me!” I shuffled toward the elevator step by step. “I’ll go. After this, none of you will ever see me again.” “Emma, where are you going? The exit is that way.” Mom took a few steps after me, but Dad held her back. “Forget about her. Let her go wherever she wants. Vivian’s wedding is more important.” The whole family went to comfort Vivian. No one cared that I had already taken the elevator to the hotel rooftop. Standing on the roof, I was just one step away from going home. I was waiting for the right moment. I had to jump at the exact time the system specified, or I wouldn’t make it back. Someone noticed I was about to jump and called the police. The police arrived quickly and set up a safety airbag below. The wedding ceremony had just ended. The Sinclair family was seeing off guests at the main entrance when they noticed someone about to jump. My brother immediately exploded with anger. “Who the hell is this? What kind of bad luck—jumping from our hotel on my sister’s wedding day!” “Mr. Sinclair, it’s Miss Emma!” Everyone’s expression changed. Lucas actually laughed out loud. “Emma Sinclair? She’s just putting on a show. If she actually jumps, I’ll eat shit!” Vivian collapsed weakly into Lucas’s arms. “Why won’t Emma just leave me alone? Why does she have to push me to death! Maybe I never should have come back to the Sinclair family. Maybe I shouldn’t even be alive!” Lucas held Vivian tightly. “Mom, Dad—just send Emma away. As long as she exists, Vivian will never be okay.” Dad nodded gravely. “Tell the police to remove the airbag. Emma would never actually jump. Making such a big scene is exactly what she wants.” My brother thought for a moment, then went to talk to the police. “Officer, please remove the safety airbag. My sister is just messing around. She won’t really jump.” “If we remove the airbag and something happens to the person, we won’t be held responsible.” “You won’t need to be. Emma would never actually go through with it.” Under the family’s insistence, the police removed the safety airbag. I let out a breath of relief up on the roof. With that airbag there, I was worried I might not actually die from the fall. Lucas came out supporting Vivian, about to point up at me on the rooftop and curse me out. The next second, I dropped like a stone and crashed right in front of the Sinclair family and Lucas. The impact made a thunderous sound, and the blood that splattered covered their faces.

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When I drove my husband’s car home, I casually activated the voice assistant: “Navigate home.” But the screen pinpointed an unfamiliar apartment complex. “Sure thing, preparing to depart. I’ve located ‘Ethan and Rosie’s Love Nest’ for you.” My heart sank. Who was Rosie? I immediately called my husband: “Did someone mess with the navigation settings in your car?” There was a second of silence on the other end, then a casual laugh: “Oh, that. Last week Marcus borrowed the car to pick up his girlfriend. Probably some cheesy thing those young lovebirds set up. I’ll talk to him about it.” I laughed along and hung up. My fingertip slid across the car’s display screen. Below “Ethan and Rosie’s Love Nest,” there was a clear arrival record timestamped 00:30 AM. I yanked the steering wheel and headed straight for that unfamiliar complex. When the engine died, the navigation system’s lingering voice grated on my nerves. “You have arrived at your destination—Ethan and Rosie’s Love Nest.” I had just pulled over when I ran into the last person I expected to see. Rosie Sullivan. Ethan’s newest PhD student this year. When Rosie spotted the familiar car, she let her hair down and sauntered over with a deliberate sway in her hips. She knocked on the window with practiced ease: “Did you forget your key card, Professor?” The window rolled all the way down, revealing my face and my not-quite-amused smile. Rosie’s expression froze. She quickly corrected herself. “Oh! Mrs. Hartwell, what brings you here?” I looked at her coolly and got straight to the point. “The navigation in Ethan’s car led me here. And here I find you.” “Explain.” Rosie seemed caught off guard by my directness, but she only faltered for a moment before flashing a coy smile. “Oh, it’s like this—Marcus’s girlfriend is my good friend and roommate. Last week when Marcus borrowed Professor Hartwell’s car to pick her up, he gave me a ride too, and we navigated here.” “I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, Mrs. Hartwell.” She even pulled out chat screenshots and photos from that day as proof. Her explanation was airtight, polite and proper. But when they crafted this lie, they seemed to have forgotten something. Ethan had an extreme case of germophobia. He wouldn’t touch anything someone else had touched. Lending his precious car to a colleague he barely knew just so the guy could impress a girl? How was I supposed to believe that? I stayed silent, letting my gaze drift down to the laundry basket in Rosie’s arms. Right on top was a pair of black men’s boxer briefs. The embroidered brand initial ‘E’ on the waistband was slightly worn. I had mended it myself with royal blue thread—the color difference was obvious. I recognized them instantly. Those were Ethan’s underwear. In that moment, something lodged in my chest, suffocating me. I pointed at the briefs, my tone teasing, my eyes ice-cold. “Your boyfriend’s? What a coincidence—they look exactly like the pair Ethan lost. Even the mending thread is the same color I used.” Rosie instinctively hid the underwear behind her back, her face going chalk white. She couldn’t get a single word out. Now I understood everything. I drove out of the complex with a cold expression, pulled over on the side of the road, and started logging into Ethan’s payment apps and social media accounts one by one. But every time I logged in, Ethan immediately got a notification. By the time I tried to log in again, he had already changed all his passwords. The next second, Ethan called. The contact name “My Husband” on the screen stung my eyes. On the other end, Ethan’s voice was soft and slow, like he was coaxing a spoiled child. “Chloe, I need my phone for a conference presentation.” “If you want to check my phone, you can look through it tonight when I get home, okay?” Before I could respond, he suddenly lowered his voice: “Meeting’s starting. Gotta go.” The moment he hung up, a text came through. [Babe, I’ve been so busy lately. It’s my fault you’re feeling insecure.] [But you have to believe me—I only love you.] [And I will always be faithful to you.] But there, under the sycamore tree at the entrance of the complex. I watched silently as Ethan casually tossed his phone aside and pulled Rosie—who had come running toward him—into his arms, kissing her urgently, deeply. My ears were ringing. I suppressed the burning sensation rising in my nose, opened my phone, and started recording. Then I drove away. The radio announcer’s words echoed through the car. “Ladies, a man’s promises are no different from a dog’s bark. Never believe them.”

That night, Ethan claimed he had something to deal with at the university and didn’t come home. Yet he calmly sent me all his social media usernames and passwords. I logged in and found he had meticulously scrubbed everything related to Rosie. But I still managed to trace a suspicious transaction from years ago and followed the trail to a couple’s account. The woman featured in the posts was Rosie. The man only appeared from the hands and waist down. I recognized him instantly. That man was Ethan. I scrolled through the posts one by one. May 16, 2023—the night I was at the hotel preparing for our wedding. Rosie was wearing my wedding dress, covered in red marks, leaning in Ethan’s arms. Caption: [The house, the bed, the dress—hers. The man—mine.] April 19, 2025—the night I miscarried and sobbed in the hospital. Rosie posted a photo of a positive pregnancy test and our ransacked nursery. Caption: [He says it’s most exciting doing it in here. And thanks to whoever came before me—I’ll gladly take the clothes and toys you won’t be needing~] May 14, 2025—the night I was critically injured in a car accident, which triggered my grandfather’s health crisis. Rosie leaned against Ethan’s chest, posing for a selfie with my grandfather—tubes running all over his frail body—her eyes full of mockery. Caption: [I visited the old man on her behalf. Poor thing’s half-blind—kept holding my hand and calling me “Chloe.” Hilarious.] After seeing this, I no longer had the strength to hold my phone steady. So that’s what happened. The lipstick stain on the collar of my wedding dress. The baby clothes and supplies that mysteriously vanished from the nursery. And… What my grandfather kept saying to our family before he died, gripping everyone’s hands with all the strength he had left. “I saw Chloe… I saw she’s doing well… I saw it…” So none of it was me being paranoid. None of it was me overthinking. And it wasn’t a dying man’s hallucination. I had been nothing but an extra in their script, a fool who thought she was the leading lady in her own love story. My throat felt like it was being scalded shut. A dense, spreading ache radiated from my heart to every limb. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I screamed, tearing through Ethan’s study like a madwoman, smashing everything in sight. But among the scattered papers, I found Rosie’s PhD dissertation draft—the one she was preparing for her defense. The experimental data matched almost exactly with the academic paper I was about to publish in a top journal. I bit down hard on my lower lip, forcing myself to stay calm. I picked up the scattered documents and compared them piece by piece. The papers didn’t just “basically match.” Apart from the introduction and acknowledgments, the core data charts, analytical logic, and conclusions were completely identical. Beside them were Ethan’s annotations in blue pen. [Chloe’s lab updated this data yesterday. Remember to revise accordingly.] [What’s hers is mine. We’re married. Don’t be afraid to copy.] [She publishes papers every year. Your dissertation only happens once. Letting you have it should be her honor.] ………… I let out a cold laugh and hurled the draft to the floor. So Ethan wasn’t just cheating on me—he was planning to steal years of my team’s research to pave the way for his precious mistress? Over my dead body. I immediately contacted the Dean, asking him to arrange for me to sit on tomorrow’s dissertation defense committee. But the moment the call connected, the Dean spoke first. “Ethan gave you his spot for this year’s Beijing research trip. Get ready—you’re leading the team tomorrow.”

Early the next morning, Ethan made a point of coming home just to drive me to the airport himself. He stayed glued to my side, making sure I actually boarded the plane. Meanwhile, in first class, the professors and students connected to the in-flight Wi-Fi and pulled up the livestream of the PhD defense at our university. The camera panned across the faculty panel. Everyone saw it—Rosie had been given special permission to sit right next to Ethan. In my seat. Ethan held the microphone, his dark eyes calm, radiating natural authority. After reading the standard procedural announcements, he softened his tone. “Let me just say something unrelated to the defense. My student is sitting in my wife’s usual seat for academic discussion purposes. Please don’t overthink it or spread rumors—I’d rather not end up sleeping on the couch tonight.” The room erupted in laughter. Several colleagues and students even texted me playful jokes. But I sat expressionless, staring at the update Rosie had just posted one minute ago on her couple’s account. June 15, 2025, 8:45 AM. While Ethan was speaking, hidden beneath the table, a leg in black stockings was gently hooked around his, stroking up and down. Caption: [Being the wife must be exhausting. The professor’s lap is much more comfortable~] The defense began, and soon it was Rosie’s turn. She opened her PowerPoint and began confidently. “Distinguished professors, my research aims to address two major bottlenecks in CAR-T cell therapy for solid tumors—off-target effects and tumor microenvironment suppression…” I watched Ethan’s lips curve into a slight smile. His gaze held an almost reverent indulgence—no eager showing off. Just a quiet, tender pride that said: See? I knew she was brilliant. He had never looked at me that way. When I gave up fertility treatments, willingly exposed myself to radiation damage, and spent countless sleepless nights producing research with groundbreaking implications for cancer treatment—only to face doubt from others— He stood with them. And lectured me. “Chloe, you don’t have the ability to produce data like this in just one year. Don’t do anything that would disappoint me.” Then he took my research report and tossed it into a roadside fire burning crop stubble. But now, when other professors questioned the precision of Rosie’s experimental data and conclusions, Ethan didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the microphone and charged to her defense. “Rosie’s research design is highly valuable and extremely innovative. I hope my esteemed colleagues won’t let jealousy cloud their judgment.” “She is my star student. It wouldn’t surprise me at all if she achieves even greater things in research.” Ethan’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried an unquestionable finality. The room fell silent as everyone watched him stand firmly in front of Rosie, speaking with deliberate conviction. “In the field of CAR-T cell therapy, no one in this country—or abroad—has achieved more than my wife, Chloe Whitmore.” “If even she were here, she wouldn’t raise a single objection to this dissertation!” The audience was stunned into silence. The other professors, intimidated by the reputation and authority Ethan and I held in academic circles, didn’t dare say another word. Just as everyone was about to unanimously approve Rosie’s dissertation defense and congratulate her on her imminent publication in a major journal and faculty position— A steady voice rang out from the audience. “I have an objection.” The flattery died mid-sentence. Heads turned instinctively toward the source of the voice. Ethan’s expression turned cold. He picked up the microphone, his tone dismissive. “And you are?” I rose from my seat in the back corner—the person who was supposed to be leading a research trip in Beijing. I raised an eyebrow slightly and gave a polite wave to the gasping students. Then I met Ethan’s stunned gaze head-on. “I’m Dr. Chloe Whitmore. Distinguished Professor with lifetime tenure at this university.” “And I have an objection.”

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Three days after I asked for a divorce, I spotted my husband Derek’s car parked by the roadside. My best friend Vivian was inside, her arms wrapped around my husband. When she saw me, she smirked and said: “Emma, you really need to stop fighting with Derek. He’s been asking me to drink with him every night lately. Last night, he even held me naked while we slept.” My husband quickly explained, “Don’t be ridiculous. If you hadn’t suddenly put on her nightgown, would I have mistaken you for her?” I smiled calmly and said to my best friend: “He has a sex addiction. If you two aren’t planning on having kids, make sure you use protection.” The moment I said that, Derek’s face turned dark. “What did you just say?” Derek asked, shocked. A flash of surprise crossed Vivian’s eyes, but then she burst out laughing. “Emma, I was just joking. I’ve explained this to you before—Derek and I are just friends.” Derek’s expression softened slightly as he spoke: “There were other people drinking with us. Besides, Vivian has been your friend for years. Even if you don’t trust me, you shouldn’t distrust her.” In the past, hearing something like this would have driven me crazy. But now, I felt nothing. The air fell silent. Then Vivian said: “Oh, and I only wore your nightgown because I forgot to bring a change of clothes when I came over last night. I couldn’t exactly sleep in your bed smelling like alcohol. Don’t overthink it.” Seeing that I remained unmoved, she suddenly smiled as if remembering something. “By the way, that lingerie of yours is pretty sexy. Can you send me the link? I want to buy one too.” I shook my head calmly. “He bought it. I don’t have the link.” Vivian froze for a moment, her smile stiffening. “Derek bought it? I never would have guessed. He looks so proper, but apparently he’s into this kind of naughty stuff. No wonder he said he didn’t like the boxers I got him for Valentine’s Day. Turns out they weren’t sexy enough for him.” I thought back to last Valentine’s Day, when my relationship with Derek had hit rock bottom. He had never been one to make the first move, but suddenly he asked me to dinner at my favorite restaurant. For once, I felt a glimmer of the warmth we used to share. Then Vivian showed up with a group of people. They wheeled in a hideous cake and started singing “Since U Been Gone.” Then Vivian pulled out matching his-and-hers underwear and laughed loudly: “This is my Valentine’s gift for you two.” And just like that, she left. I threw a glass of water in Derek’s face and slapped him. He pressed his lips together impatiently and said, “She’s always been like this. You know that. She’s your friend too—what’s there to argue about?” Yeah. Before I met Derek, I thought Vivian would be my best friend for life. We’d shared the same pair of jeans, sipped from the same smoothie with one straw, and whispered our deepest secrets to each other late at night. Until Derek came along, and I became the third wheel. I cried until I had no tears left and confronted him. “Derek, do you have any conscience at all? I cut ties with my own parents to marry you!” His response was cold: “You already had a bad relationship with your parents. That has nothing to do with me.” Those words were like a knife through my heart, and they finally woke me up. Thinking about all this, I said to Vivian: “He’s bought quite a few nightgowns like that. If you like them, take them all. I don’t want them anymore.” Hearing this, Derek suddenly sneered: “Emma, I thought you’d have calmed down by now. Turns out you’ve just switched to playing hard to get. Don’t you ever get tired of being so dramatic?”

The divorce was my idea. On our wedding anniversary, Vivian showed up uninvited with all our friends to “celebrate” with us. What was supposed to be my special day turned into a party for everyone else. During the celebration, Vivian got tipsy and admitted in front of everyone that she had fallen in love with a friend’s husband. Everyone exchanged knowing glances at Derek. He just smiled helplessly and said, “Cut it out.” I flipped the table right then and there. Derek handled the situation smoothly, sending everyone away. Afterward, I screamed at him that I wanted a divorce. He just stared at me coldly for a long time. Then he agreed. I moved out of his house. He didn’t try to stop me. He just smirked coldly: “Thirty days. That should be enough time for you to cool off.” My phone buzzed—my ride was almost here. “Whatever you say.” I looked at my phone, not wanting to argue with him. Derek’s face darkened, but finally he spoke: “Get in the car.” “It’s Professor Williams’s birthday party today. If she sees that we didn’t arrive together, she’ll start asking questions.” “No need. My ride’s already here.” The car had pulled up beside us. I walked straight over and got in. The moment I closed the door, Derek’s car sped past, grazing the exact spot where I had just been standing. The driver jumped in his seat and cursed. “What the hell is wrong with that guy!” “Are you okay?” I shook my head calmly, saying nothing. I just rolled down the window and let the breeze wash over my face. Suddenly, I remembered—even back when he was too poor to afford a scooter, Derek was like this. Even with no parents, his faded blue school uniform washed nearly white, his face full of world-weariness— Nothing could stop him from being the most dazzling presence in any crowd. Because before he became one of the city’s most successful young entrepreneurs, he was a painting prodigy who had amazed countless people. One year, he nearly missed an important competition because he couldn’t afford the entry fee. I gritted my teeth and paid it with my living expenses, then stretched what was left to feed us both. Until my mother found out. She humiliated him in front of everyone on the crowded school grounds. While I was still naively dreaming about his trophy— He turned in a blank exam paper. And never picked up a brush again. He started skipping class, staying out overnight, starting a business with people I’d never met. When I asked why, he only said he wanted to give me a better life. He was still gentle and caring, but sometimes it all felt like a long, silent cold war. Later, when I found out the truth, I had a huge fight with my family. Out of guilt, I threw myself into supporting his plans for the future. So when Vivian first promised to look after Derek for me outside of school, I was nothing but grateful. They started having more and more in common. At first, I stood between them, arms linked with both, smiling as I brought them closer. Later, they were the ones with their arms around each other, joking like old buddies, while I stood off to the side, smiling. Unable to get a word in. Until that New Year’s Eve, when Derek was depressed over a business setback. I gathered all his friends for a party. As the countdown began, I finally saw a hint of relief on his face. “…Three, two, one—zero!” The moment the fireworks exploded, my smiling eyes went wide with shock. Vivian had grabbed his tie and planted a loud kiss on his cheek. All the cheering and noise around me went silent. My racing heart stopped for a beat. Then came the endless fall. The woman met my gaze, winked playfully, then kissed my cheek too, completely unfazed. “Emma, Happy New Year!” My lips trembled. I didn’t know what to say. I suddenly remembered what a friend had joked about not long ago. “Emma, I don’t know what you’re thinking, but honestly, it looks like your boyfriend’s fallen in love again.” “I saw them at a bar the other day—they were practically making out.” … The rumors never stopped. I never believed them. But looking at Derek’s smile, I wasn’t sure anymore. I became suspicious and paranoid. I started showing up at their gatherings constantly, watching every little detail when they were together. I’d probe our other friends for their opinions while trying every trick I’d learned from relationship advice accounts to figure out if there was really something between them. Until one night, I got up and grabbed his phone to check all his social media. The moment I turned off the screen, I saw his eyes—wide open in the darkness. In my panic, I accidentally called Vivian. The call was answered almost instantly. Her sultry voice came through: “Derek? Did you really put a tracker in my brain or something? I was just lying here thinking about you and couldn’t sleep, and then you called. What’s up? Were you thinking about me too…” “Vivian,” I suddenly spoke. “Have you no shame?” Silence on the other end. Before I could say another word— Derek snatched the phone from my hand. “Emma, enough is enough. Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough these past few weeks?” Looking at Derek’s furious face, my eyes welled up. “I’m the one who’s embarrassed?” “One of you is my boyfriend, the other is my best friend—and you two are sneaking around behind my back. Isn’t that embarrassing?” A vein throbbed on Derek’s forehead. “Don’t you have any judgment of your own? I’ve been tolerating your nonsense because I thought you’d eventually see reason. But you’re still being completely unreasonable!” Vivian’s voice came through the phone, choked with tears. “Emma, I had no idea you thought of me this way. Maybe you don’t realize it, but this is just how we talk to each other. It’s all just jokes.” “I know our way of interacting bothers you, but Derek isn’t just your boyfriend—he’s my friend too. I can’t just distance myself from him because of you. I hope you can understand.” “If it really upsets you, I can post something online to clarify that there’s nothing between us.” Derek suddenly looked up at me. “Emma, if you’re going to keep making a scene, then let’s just break up.”

That was the first time Derek ever mentioned breaking up with me. And the last. That night, I booked a flight, turned off my phone, and disappeared for an entire month. Until one day, in the morning mist of the mountains, I saw him—red-eyed and disheveled. He had come for me, but he didn’t say a word. He just quietly set up a tent beside the little cabin I was renting and made it his home. Before dawn, he’d already chopped wood and fetched water for me. When I went out to sketch, he followed at a distance, never saying anything. … Everything he did was so unlike the proud man I knew. Eventually, even the other young travelers staying in the village started teasing me, telling me to forgive him. Forgive him? I wasn’t that naive. But when I saw Derek crying and begging for my forgiveness after getting drunk—everything changed. It was the first time I’d ever seen him cry. He swore he had no feelings for Vivian beyond friendship and promised to keep his distance from her. He apologized over and over, begging me not to really leave him. Rekindling a flame is easy. I forgave him quickly. And said yes when he proposed. But I never expected my parents’ opposition to be so fierce. They had already arranged a match for me—someone from a wealthy family. They refused to let me marry beneath my status. In the end, my father threw a document at me in a rage, threatening to disown me if I didn’t break off the engagement. I cried for a whole month. Then, out of spite, I signed it. We had a small wedding. We couldn’t afford much—even my dress was rented. My parents weren’t there. Derek noticed something was wrong. That night, he pinned me down and took me over and over without saying a word. Until the very end, when he bit my ear and whispered: “Emma, stop being foolish for my sake.” I didn’t understand back then. Later, I realized what he meant. He didn’t think it was worth it. I didn’t need to betray my parents for him. And he didn’t need my unwavering devotion that badly. “We’re here.” The driver’s voice pulled me from my thoughts. The car stopped outside the courtyard of a well-known private restaurant. As soon as I stepped out, I heard Professor Williams’s voice at the entrance. “Is Emma here?” I adjusted my expression and walked in with a smile. “Professor Williams, I’m sorry I’m late.” Professor Williams had silver hair at her temples but walked with steady steps—a sharp, spirited old woman. “I was just asking Derek why he didn’t bring you when he drove over.” I smiled and explained, “I’ve been staying on the east side of town lately. It was faster to take a cab.” Professor Williams didn’t say anything, just squeezed my hand a little tighter, then led me to sit beside her. Once everyone had exchanged greetings and given their gifts, the atmosphere grew lively. After a few drinks, someone joked: “Out of all of us, Derek’s got the best luck. He was the golden boy at school, made a fortune in business, and even married a sweet, wealthy heiress.” Someone pointed at Vivian and laughed: “And he’s got a beauty helping him with his career too!” Vivian laughed in response: “Derek’s my boss—basically my sugar daddy. Of course I help him!” “But really, Emma’s the luckiest one. She’s a real trophy wife now.” Others at the table chimed in agreement. I kept my head down and continued eating, saying nothing. Professor Williams set down her fork gently. “That’s not quite fair. Back in the day, Emma sold all her designer bags and worked three part-time jobs just to help Derek stay in school.” The room went silent. Someone laughed awkwardly to smooth things over: “You’re right, Professor. We didn’t know about all that. We misunderstood Emma.” But Vivian scoffed: “Well, if Derek hadn’t saved Emma back then, she wouldn’t even be here today.”

In the silence, Derek finally spoke up. “Alright, today is Professor Williams’s birthday. Let’s stop talking about me.” He raised his glass and invited everyone to toast. I took a quiet sip of wine, my mind drifting back to that summer when I first started school. Maybe it was because the car that dropped me off was too flashy—people started spreading rumors about me behind my back. They said I was being kept by some older man. After class that day, everyone scattered, and I sat alone at my desk, crying softly until the sky grew dark. When I finally got up to leave, I realized a strange man had walked into the room. The disgusting middle-aged man grabbed my arm. I screamed and ran, but he chased after me. Until I fell into Derek’s arms. He couldn’t afford a dorm, so he’d set up a makeshift bed in the school’s storage room. Our classmates covered for him, and the teachers turned a blind eye. The boy who had always seemed so cold and aloof suddenly seemed so tall and strong. He chased the man away and called the police. It wasn’t until he helped me into the ambulance that he finally spoke. “Stop crying. I’ll take you home.” That’s how we met. That’s how we fell in love. And that’s how the rest of our story began. Thinking about it now, I let out a bitter laugh. I still don’t know how we ended up here. I’d had too much to drink, so I got up to use the restroom. But as I passed the smoking area, I heard Vivian’s giggling voice. “Did you see her face just now? I almost died laughing.” “After all these years, she still doesn’t know that you were the one who told us to lock that door, does she, Derek?” I froze in place. A chill ran up my spine, nearly knocking me off my feet. Derek’s voice came, tinged with resignation. “Stop bringing up the past. I was young and stupid back then.” “Don’t tell me you still feel guilty? You used to hate how she was always crying all the time. And then you dated her, married her—you basically gave her half your life.” “Exactly. Our Derek used to have girls lining up for him. And look at him now—he’s a catch. If you ask me, she’s the one who got lucky.” “Hey, do you think if I mess with her again, she’ll freak out like she used to? That was always so fun.” Derek cut her off immediately. “I’m warning you—don’t even think about it.” “Okay, okay…” Their voices grew closer. When the door swung open, tears had blurred my vision—but I could still see the lingering smile on Derek’s face. Which quickly turned to panic.

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After three years of marriage, Ethan remained obsessively germaphobic to the point of pathology. No kissing allowed, and he insisted on wearing five layers of condoms. That was, until the day I brought him soup at his office and found him pinning Willow—the student I’d been sponsoring—against his desk, ravaging her without restraint. Their bodies were tangled together intimately, not even a single condom in sight. My eyes immediately turned red. I rushed forward and slapped Willow hard across the face, only to be kicked to the ground by Ethan. “How dare you hit Willow?” I couldn’t believe it. “Ethan, you’re cheating and you think you’re in the right?” Just as I was about to strike again with tears streaming down my face, his assistant suddenly appeared and expressionlessly threw a stack of papers in my face. “Lauren, your marriage certificate with Mr. Chandler is fake. His real wife is Willow. You’re the mistress!” “Given that you just assaulted Mrs. Chandler, Mr. Chandler is very angry and wants to reclaim all the assets he’s spent on you over the years.” I was ordered to repay fifty million dollars, and ultimately spent three years in prison for being unable to pay. Later, I was reunited with my billionaire father. On my first day back in the capital, I ran into a heavily pregnant Willow being held by Ethan. When he saw me, he sneered coldly. “That was just to teach you a lesson. Now that you’ve learned to behave in prison, you can come home and take care of Willow.” “As long as you don’t cause trouble, letting you work as a housekeeper in the Chandler household won’t be a problem.”

My gaze was ice-cold as I stared directly at the loving couple before me. The man who had once been pathologically germaphobic around me was now supporting Willow with a face full of tenderness. “Why are you just standing there? Hurry up and help Willow.” “After spending so long in prison, you still don’t know how to serve people properly.” Ethan’s face showed displeasure as he kept urging me. “Lauren hasn’t gone stupid from getting beaten in prison, has she? Why isn’t she responding?” Willow stroked her round belly, looking at me with contempt. Seeing me frozen in place, Ethan reached out and grabbed me. “Lauren, if you take good care of Willow, I’ll still give you a meal to eat.” “Otherwise, as an ex-convict, no one will take you in.” Watching Ethan’s aggressive expression, I thought back to when he was in college. Back then, he was still a shy and quiet young man. Too poor to apply for financial aid but too embarrassed to ask, he would eat other people’s leftovers in the cafeteria every day. As a student leader, I extended a helping hand, helping him apply for aid and buying him meals every day. His eyes would turn red, and he’d practically kneel before me in gratitude. In the end, he conspired with Willow to send me to prison. I suppressed the discomfort in my chest and turned to walk away. Willow stepped forward to grab me, and I quickly dodged to the side. She actually stumbled and fell directly to the ground. Seeing this, Ethan kicked me viciously. I cried out in pain and fell to the side. He hurried to help Willow up, his eyes full of heartache and anxiety. I lay on the ground for a long time, unable to get up. Years ago, to accompany Ethan in starting his business, I squeezed into a tiny rental apartment with him. I bought him thermal pants but couldn’t bear to buy any for myself, and my legs developed problems from the cold. During my years in prison, I had no proper care. That kick from Ethan just now—the pain was excruciating now. “You lunatic! Willow was kind enough to offer you a job, and you tried to hurt her.” Ethan’s eyes blazed with fury, his chest heaving. “I never thought that after all these years, Lauren would still hold a grudge against me.” “Ethan, she wanted to hurt our baby.” Willow cried pitifully, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. She was still addicted to playing the victim. Our commotion in the street attracted quite a few onlookers. “That woman just got out of prison. My husband and I are acquaintances, so we wanted to help her find a job.” “Not only is she ungrateful, she pushed me, trying to harm the baby in my belly.” Willow spoke timidly, tears streaming down her face. “That woman is absolute trash. They were kind enough to help her, and she tried to hurt their baby.” “No wonder she was in prison. Lock her up again before she hurts more people.” Several middle-aged women were indignant, throwing vegetable scraps at me. Seeing that I really couldn’t get up, Ethan reached out and pulled me to my feet. Willow’s eyes seemed ready to shoot flames as she shouted at the crowd, “I’m calling the police.”

Ethan showed a shocked expression, then whispered in my ear. “Come back with me and be our housekeeper, or you’ll have hell to pay at the police station.” I forced myself to stand, shook off his hand forcefully, and said through gritted teeth: “Dream on. I never pushed her.” Willow looked desolate. “Ethan, my stomach hurts so much.” “Won’t you seek justice for me and the baby?” Watching her tearful expression, Ethan pulled out his phone. “I’m filing a report…” The surrounding crowd encircled me, pointing and gossiping. Soon the police arrived. Willow spoke weakly: “Officers, this woman tried to harm me and my unborn baby.” “I didn’t. She fell on her own, trying to frame me.” I said firmly. Willow whimpered while clutching her stomach, collapsing against Ethan’s shoulder. “She just got out of prison. We kindly offered her a job, but she tried to hurt us.” The surrounding onlookers grew more agitated. “That prison woman pushed her. We all saw it.” “Obviously no good. Just got out and already hurting people. Lock her up again.” The police said they would take us all back to the station for investigation. Throughout the journey, Willow kept crying softly while Ethan consoled her in low tones. That gentle manner—I’d never seen it before. In all the years we were together, he had been taciturn. I once asked playfully, “Ethan, why do you always have such a stern face?” He said he wasn’t good at expressing himself, that he had childhood trauma and couldn’t say comforting words. I felt guilty for so long afterward, hating myself for tearing open Ethan’s wounds. Now it seemed he just didn’t want to say such things to me. Getting out of the police car and seeing the station entrance, I almost laughed out loud. I turned to look at Ethan. His gaze froze as well. This police station was where Ethan and I had made our relationship official. Back in college, Ethan had a breakdown and cried when his wallet was stolen. The station where I accompanied him to file a report was this very one. That day, coming out of the station, he pulled a woven grass ring from his pocket. With hesitant eyes, he asked if I would be his girlfriend. I didn’t hesitate and put on that grass ring.

As soon as we entered the interrogation room, Ethan and Willow insisted I had deliberately hurt her, even producing evidence of my recent release from prison. My gaze was cold. “I did serve time, but that doesn’t mean I pushed her.” “You went to prison for being a mistress. Now that you’re out, wouldn’t you want revenge?” Willow spoke quickly, then quickly covered her mouth with her hand, as if it was an accident. Everyone froze. Several witnesses who had followed began muttering among themselves. “Really awful. Went to prison for being a mistress, got out and hurt people again.” “This person is rotten to the core. Should be locked up for life.” People around looked at me with contempt. Even the police officers frowned. My chest felt a sharp pain. Three years ago, Ethan’s assistant said my marriage certificate with Ethan was fake, that I was the mistress. I nearly went mad. We’d had a wedding and gotten a marriage certificate—how could I be the mistress? I was ordered to pay money back. Unable to pay, I was sent to prison. In jail, I received divorce papers and a message from Ethan. Ethan said I talked back to him and wasn’t obedient at all. He told me to learn to behave, and once I did, he’d let me come back. Willow was pregnant and needed the position of wife, so I should sign quickly. I signed without hesitation. I faced the mocking stares around me and responded: “Everything requires evidence. I’m not a mistress, and I didn’t push anyone.” “I’m suing you for defamation.” The surrounding voices quieted somewhat. Willow showed a pained expression and sobbed, “Officer, you see how arrogant this person is. You must help us.” Ethan’s face was unkind as he pointed at me. “What are you threatening? You’re an ex-convict—who’s going to listen to your nonsense?” Watching him point and curse at me, I only felt amused. That innocent young man from years ago was completely dead. The police officer gestured for everyone to be quiet and said they were pulling nearby surveillance footage. Seeing the police officer get up and leave, Ethan walked toward me, his eyes full of pity. “Lauren, if you just come back with me and be our housekeeper, I won’t pursue today’s matter.” “Prison before was just to teach you a lesson. If you’d been obedient like Willow, why would I have sent you to prison?” I leaned close to Ethan and spat at him viciously. “Stop dreaming. Just seeing you two makes me sick.” Ethan grabbed my hand and forced me into a corner. “Lauren, three years in prison and you still have this much backbone. Still haven’t learned to behave!” “Looks like you need to study in there for a few more years.” I bit down hard on his hand. Ethan released me in pain. “You’re an ex-convict. No one will want you.” “Lauren, this is your last chance.” I ignored him and walked to the other side. In my heart, I prayed that as long as there was surveillance footage, it would prove I didn’t push Willow. After a while, the police officer came back in and said there was no surveillance nearby. If I couldn’t reach a settlement, I’d be detained for investigation. Hearing this, Willow’s eyes brightened. With a contemptuous smile on her lips, she looked at me provocatively. “A settlement is possible. You just need to sign a contract to be mine and Ethan’s housekeeper, taking care of our daily needs, and we’ll agree to settle.” “Ethan said you’re pretty good at taking care of people. Here’s your chance to redeem yourself.” After speaking, Willow pulled out paper and pen from her bag and threw them at me. “Our Willow is truly kind-hearted.” “Lauren, you’d better not be stubborn to the end.” Ethan’s eyes showed certain victory as he stood with his arms crossed, watching me. Looking at his smug expression, I really wanted to slap myself. I’d accompanied the penniless Ethan in starting his business years ago. I watched him grow from a stammering young man into Mr. Chandler who could command everything. In the company’s early days, I managed finances while handling business relations. I built the entire company with my own hands. Until Ethan grew strong enough and told me to stay home as Mrs. Chandler and stop working so hard. At the time, I thought Ethan was just concerned about me, so I gave up all my work at the company and stayed home trying to conceive. Looking back now, it was all Ethan’s conspiracy to seize power. I threw the paper and pen back. “I didn’t push her. I won’t settle. I want an investigation.” Shock flashed through Ethan’s eyes. “Lauren, are you crazy? You want to go to prison!” I didn’t respond and walked toward the police officer. “You can detain me, but I want a thorough investigation. I won’t settle.” The police officer showed disbelief and confirmed several times. I nodded. This time, I couldn’t be framed without knowing the truth again. Just as I was being led toward the detention room, a voice came from behind. “Wait. I have evidence proving Ms. Reed is being framed.”

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While at work, I accidentally sent a photo of a car I meant for the auto shop to our work group chat instead. A new intern sharply questioned me: “Joanna, why are you sending photos of my car? Are you eyeing my sports car or something?” I was confused and asked if she’d made a mistake—this was my car. She immediately sent a series of photos and videos of herself driving the supercar, proving it was hers. Then she added sarcastically: “Some broke people really have no shame. This sports car was custom-made for me by my husband. There’s only one like it in the entire world. Did you think stealing a photo of my car would make you Mrs. Reid?” I frowned and looked over at my husband beside me, asking: “Do you have a second wife I don’t know about?” Because I was too busy at work, I accidentally sent the car photo meant for the auto shop to the intern group chat instead. Before I could unsend it, several interns had already seen it, and the chat immediately exploded: “Holy shit! A starlight-roof supercar—the customization alone must cost hundreds of thousands! Joanna’s actually loaded!” “Never would’ve guessed Joanna’s a trust fund kid!” “What do Joanna’s parents do? That supercar must be at least five million dollars, right?” The chat quickly filled with dozens of messages, all asking about my family background. Several male interns even privately messaged me asking to take me to dinner. Feeling a bit helpless, I casually explained: “I’m not a trust fund kid. It’s just a birthday gift from my husband. Everyone should focus on work instead…” Before I could finish, intern Quinn Rivera suddenly jumped in: “Joanna, why are you sending photos of my car?” “And claiming it’s a birthday gift from your husband—are you trying to brag that your husband’s a billionaire?” “I shouldn’t have driven my car to the hospital. Having someone like you steal photos to show off is just my bad luck!” The barrage of accusations left me instantly bewildered. I asked in confusion: “Quinn, I think you’ve misunderstood. Maybe our cars look similar?” She went silent for a few seconds, then started frantically posting various photos of herself with the supercar in the group chat, including videos of her driving from the driver’s seat. Her tone became even more mocking: “My starlight-roof supercar is custom-made, one of a kind in the entire world. How dare you, some broke doctor, claim it looks like yours?” “You steal one photo and dare to say it’s yours—you might as well take a photo in front of the White House and claim that’s your house too!” This blatant ridicule immediately reversed the other interns’ attitudes. They all turned on me: “Joanna, that’s not how you show off… This is so embarrassing.” “If you don’t have a car, just say so. Nobody’s judging. No need to do something this pathetic and get called out by Quinn.” “Never thought there’d be attention-seekers like this at the hospital. And she’s supposed to be training us? Hope she doesn’t turn us all into liars too, hahaha.” Another stream of passive-aggressive comments followed. Some even tagged me directly, demanding I apologize to Quinn. I frowned and tagged Quinn directly: “What’s going on? Why were you in my car? And when were those videos taken?” I participated in designing the starlight roof in my car—it was unique. So the moment Quinn posted those photos and videos, I knew that was my car. That’s why I confronted her directly. Quinn: [Can you have some shame? Even now you’re still claiming it’s your car. Do I really need to drive it right up to your face before you’ll give up?] “If it’s really your car, then tell me what color the interior is right now.” “Gray.” I answered confidently. I’d just had the auto shop change the color a few days ago. But the next second, Quinn sent a photo—a selfie of her sitting inside the car, with the interior now changed to pink. She immediately laughed mockingly: “Of course trashy people are trashy—you slipped up with one sentence! When you stole that photo of my car, the interior was gray, but I changed it to pink yesterday!” “What’s wrong? Can’t find updated stolen photos fast enough?” Seeing this, everyone in the group became even more convinced the car was Quinn’s, and they all piled on to attack me. “Joanna looks so aloof, but she’s actually this vain! Having someone like her as our supervisor is really bad luck!” “Exactly. She sees someone driving a luxury car, steals photos to lie about it, and now gets exposed by Quinn. How embarrassing!” “She opens her mouth and lies—maybe her impressive academic credentials are lies too. Aren’t there lots of female doctors who sleep with old professors just to publish papers?” The comments got more and more exaggerated, even making up scandals about me. I was furious and about to fight back when a colleague notified me about an emergency surgery I needed to perform immediately. Hearing this, I had no time to deal with these interns in the chat. I rushed off to do the surgery.

By the time I came out of the operating room, it was afternoon. As soon as I walked out of the main hall, I saw a delivery guy carrying an enormous bouquet of yellow roses coming in from outside, calling out loudly: “Excuse me, is there a Mrs. Reid here? These are flowers ordered for you by Mr. Reid!” Seeing this, I couldn’t help but smile. This morning when leaving the house, I’d rushed and had a little spat with Grayson Reid. We’d had a cold war all day without talking, but now he was sending yellow roses—clearly an apology. I suppressed my smile and stepped forward: “Give me the flowers. I’m Mrs.—” “Don’t touch my flowers!” Before my hand could take the bouquet, Quinn suddenly shrieked and ran over from the opposite direction, shoving me aside and glaring at me with utter contempt: “Joanna, can you have any shame? This morning you tried to claim my car, this afternoon you’re trying to steal my flowers—do you have no sense of dignity at all?” She shoved me and I stumbled. My initial willingness to let it go turned to complete anger. I frowned at her: “Is something wrong with your brain? These are my flowers!” “Hahahaha…” Quinn’s entourage—several other interns from the chat—all pointed at me and laughed: “How much do you love drama? A bouquet of roses this big—only Quinn’s wealthy young master husband could afford it. Who do you think would send flowers to a country bumpkin like you?” “Exactly! Never seen someone like this—completely shameless over a bouquet of flowers! The way she shamelessly pushed herself forward was so embarrassing to watch!” “Only someone like Quinn, a wealthy young madam with such grace, wouldn’t stoop to your level. Otherwise I’d really call the police!” Meanwhile, Quinn put on a shy expression: “Oh, you guys are terrible! I told you to keep my identity secret, and here you are blabbing about it!” “My darling husband is a wealthy family heir—very prestigious. So many people try to curry favor with him. I don’t want to be bothered by these people every day.” The others immediately comforted and praised her, expressing understanding and showing various envious expressions. I was dumbfounded by their performance—utterly speechless: “Your darling husband is so amazing but makes you drive someone else’s car and steal someone else’s flowers?” “And ‘wealthy young madam’—what kind of wealthy young madam does an internship? Just go home and lie around instead!” “What do you know? I believe in being self-reliant!” Quinn seemed to have a nerve struck. Her face flushed as she stepped forward: “If I told you my husband’s name, it would scare you to death. He’s the heir to the Reid Corporation!” I paused before processing who she meant, then asked with a frown: “You’re talking about Grayson?” “How dare you! How dare you speak my husband’s name so casually?” Quinn glared at me arrogantly, incredibly haughty. I was beyond speechless: “Did Grayson marry you in your dreams?” “How dare you insult me?” Quinn’s expression changed. She opened her mouth angrily: “My husband won’t let you get away with—” I raised my hand, cutting off her words: “I don’t know if your husband will let me get away with anything, but I’ll tell you this—you’re impersonating Mrs. Reid and swindling people. Grayson definitely won’t let you get away with it!” Someone impersonating a wealthy lady and landing on me—today really opened my eyes. Quinn’s face turned red: “What gives you the right to say I’m swindling people? I am Grayson’s wife!” “Proof?” I stared at her unflinchingly: “Empty words mean nothing. Why should I believe you’re Mrs. Reid?” “I’ll call my husband right now and have him come over immediately!” She pulled out her phone and made a call, her voice sweet and cloying: “Hello, honey, come to the hospital quick. Some bitch doesn’t believe your identity and keeps bullying me, boo hoo…” “Who dares bully Grayson’s woman? I’ll be right there!” The voice on the other end of the call—Grayson—immediately responded, saying he’d come over. Hearing this, Quinn immediately became confident, looking smugly at everyone: “Nobody leave. When my husband gets here, he won’t let this bitch off!” Watching Quinn so confident and certain, I felt bewildered for a moment. If her husband really was Grayson, then who was my husband? So I also took the opportunity to send Grayson a message on SnapChat, asking him to pick me up from the hospital. Grayson quickly replied “OK,” which put my mind at ease. I also started looking forward to this upcoming drama of “the real and fake Grayson”!

While waiting for Grayson to arrive, Quinn became increasingly smug. Holding that bouquet of yellow roses, she came up to me and said contemptuously: “Joanna, I understand you’re vain because you come from poverty, but I can’t just let you slandering me slide.” “You need to kneel and apologize to me, and promise never to ride my coattails again. Otherwise, I’ll definitely have my husband hold you accountable!” That pissed me off. Before I could respond, the other interns immediately chimed in: “Quinn, you’re so kind. She slandered you like that and you’re only asking her to kneel and apologize!” “Joanna, the Reid Corporation heir isn’t that easy to talk to. I think you should obediently kneel now before Mr. Reid gets here and refuses to let you off!” “Exactly! I heard Mr. Reid has avoided public appearances for years. Today he’s coming to the hospital to confront you for Quinn’s sake—don’t you realize how serious this is?” Grayson indeed disliked public appearances, but that was due to his personality. I never expected this would now give these people ammunition to attack me. How ridiculous. Thinking this, I couldn’t help but sneer: “I’d also like to see who won’t let who off!” Quinn was out there impersonating my identity and swindling people, even able to freely drive my car and change the interior colors. I needed to get to the bottom of this—I couldn’t let her keep ruining my reputation! Quinn snorted coldly: “Stubborn till the end! Just wait till you see how powerful my husband is!” As soon as she finished speaking, a commotion came from the hospital entrance. The hospital director and other leaders personally went to greet someone: “Oh my, Mr. Reid! If you were coming to the hospital, you should have told us in advance so I could personally pick you up! What a wonderful surprise!” “Mr. Reid, that thirty million dollars in medical equipment you invested in our hospital last time really solved a huge problem for us. The entire hospital is incredibly grateful to you!” I looked up and saw it was indeed Grayson. He strode toward us, his expression calm. Madison was the first to greet him with a fawning smile: “Mr. Reid, you really do dote on your wife. The moment you heard Mrs. Reid was wronged, you came right away.” “Look, Mrs. Reid has been waiting for you!” She pointed toward Quinn. Grayson glanced at Quinn and said in a low voice: “Honey, come here.” As soon as he said this, everyone present became excited, all looking enviously at Quinn.

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I’d been searching for three years, and I finally saw my mother’s heirloom at the auction house—a ruby ring. But no matter how much I bid, Vivian Carter, a college student my ex-husband Zachary Hart once sponsored, always outbid me by one dollar. Zachary’s voice was cold and determined: “She loves these sparkly things. Let her have it.” Left with no choice, I offered a price far above market value. That’s when Zachary stood up and said: “Additional auction item: Serena Blake’s sex tapes, 1024 gigabytes. One hundred thousand dollars per gigabyte.” My intimate videos, eyes glazed and unfocused, were brazenly displayed as auction items. Zachary wrapped his arm around Vivian’s waist, looking at me mockingly: “You like competing for things, don’t you? If you don’t want these videos falling into someone else’s hands, then pay up and compete.” Three years ago, my family went bankrupt. He paid a high price to take me from an underground auction. After we married, he was insatiable every night, tangled up with me. Until three months ago, when Vivian appeared at our house, everything changed. I sat in the last row of the auction hall, my fingers gripping the bidding paddle so hard they turned white. The auctioneer introduced the items. The first few were warm-ups that no one took seriously. Then that ruby ring was presented on a tray, glinting coldly under the lights. My heartbeat stuttered. That was my mother’s heirloom. It was also why I came here today. The year my mother died, my father went bankrupt. The ring and I were illegally auctioned off to pay his debts. I’d searched for three years, finally waiting for it to appear here. “Item number five, antique ruby ring. Starting bid: three hundred thousand dollars.” I raised my paddle, my voice flat: “Three hundred thousand dollars.” Immediately, a sickeningly sweet voice rang out. “Three hundred thousand and one dollars.” My ex-husband Zachary Hart walked in with Vivian on his arm. His gray suit was impeccably pressed, his fingertips resting on Vivian’s waist in a casual yet possessive gesture. Vivian leaned against his shoulder, smiling innocently. “Zachary, there are so many people here tonight.” “It’s fine. You’re the star.” She purred like a cat receiving a reward, pressing closer to him. Vivian looked over at me, smiling sweetly, but her eyes were mocking. “You like it too? But Zachary said this antique style… suits me better.” I turned my head to see her clinging to Zachary’s arm, red lips curved upward, eyes full of a victor’s arrogance. Zachary raised his eyes, fingers tapping the armrest lightly, his voice cold. “She loves these sparkly things. Let her have it.” The room erupted in quiet laughter. Everyone knew I was Zachary Hart’s ex-wife—a pathetic creature he’d grown tired of and discarded. Vivian tilted her head, smiling at me. I gripped the bidding paddle tighter, my knuckles turning white. Three years ago, Zachary had done the same thing—brought me home from an auction in front of everyone. That night, he pressed me against the floor-to-ceiling window, biting my earlobe. “Serena Blake, you can’t escape anymore.” “Even though your family went bankrupt, I won’t let anyone bully you from now on.” Now he sat there, watching me get humiliated, without even a flicker in his eyes. She liked it, so I should just give it up? I gritted my teeth and raised my paddle: “Four hundred thousand dollars.” Vivian acted like this was a game: “Four hundred thousand and one dollars.” I bid again: “Five hundred thousand dollars.” She laughed, tilting her head coyly: “Zachary, am I being too mean?” Zachary ruffled her hair, his eyes sweeping over me coldly: “As long as you’re happy.” Vivian looked at me with her head tilted, smiling brightly. “Serena, Zachary said you have good taste—you just love picking up my leftovers, including men.” Whispers and snickers rippled through the crowd. “That’s her—Mr. Hart’s ex-wife!” “She was just a plaything Mr. Hart bought years ago. Three months ago, when Mr. Hart found someone else, he dumped her.” I stared at that ring, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. That was my mother’s heirloom. I couldn’t back down. I raised my number: “I’ll pay ten times the price.” The air went silent instantly. Zachary finally looked at me properly, his brow furrowing. Vivian’s expression shifted: “Serena Blake, are you insane? That broken ring is worth five million dollars?” I ignored her and walked straight to the verification desk. The auctioneer cleared his throat, struggling to maintain a smile. “Miss Blake has made the highest bid. Please proceed with account verification.” “Verification complete. Account balance: one hundred million dollars.” Zachary finally withdrew his contemptuous gaze, his brow furrowing slightly as he fixed his eyes on me. His suit knocked over a champagne glass as he moved, spilling wine across the floor. “Where did you get that money?” Zachary suddenly stood up, grabbing my wrist with enough force to almost crush bone. It reminded me of the night of our divorce. He’d gripped me the same way then, pressing the divorce papers onto the nightstand. I spoke flatly: “Mr. Hart, the alimony the court ordered three months ago. It was yours. Did you forget?” “I don’t like competing. But you two insisted on pushing me to this.” Vivian was practically jumping in frustration, about to say something, but I cut her off first. “Vivian, your taste isn’t that great either. I picked up your leftover man for three years. I feel sorry for myself.” I turned around, heels clicking, walking back to my seat step by step, my back straight. Laughter, gossip, and awkward silence wove together into a new tide. I didn’t look back. I’d gotten the ruby ring back. And my dignity too.

Zachary’s eyes turned completely cold. He raised his hand, signaling the auctioneer to pause. His voice exploded above my head. “Add one more item temporarily.” His voice was calm, but laced with poison. “Serena Blake’s private videos, 1024 gigabytes. One hundred thousand dollars per gigabyte.” The room fell deathly silent. Zachary looked at me, his gaze sharp, enunciating each word. “From age twenty to twenty-five. You like competing for things, don’t you? 1024 gigabytes. Take your time competing.” After saying this, he lightly brushed imaginary dust from his sleeve, as if swatting away an insignificant mosquito. My heart jolted, then went numb. The entire room erupted in shock and murmurs. The air filled with a mixture of perfume and desire. The clinking of glasses, men’s whispers, women’s laughter—it all wove together into a silent hunt. I was the prey. Vivian laughed softly, her eyes full of schadenfreude: “Oh my… so many videos! Serena, I wonder what they show. Will you cry while watching them?” I clutched my purse, knuckles white. The next second, the big screen lit up with blinding blue light. The footage was grainy. Twenty-year-old me wore a pristine white dress. Chasing after Zachary, pulling off the white dress until only my undergarments remained, voice choked with tears. “Zachary, can you please just look at me?” Amid the laughter filling the room, I heard the sound of my spine freezing inch by inch. Vivian’s soft laugh was like a serpent’s hiss. “Oh, you used to be… so slutty?” On screen, I was humble yet earnest. The room began to whisper. “That slutty? Chasing a man like that—so pathetic.” “She was still a socialite then, right? Where’s her dignity…” I bit down hard, staring at the big screen, my cheeks burning. “Stop.” I spoke, my voice so hoarse it barely made a sound. Zachary sat in the front row, posture lazy. He didn’t look at me, only said faintly: “You can bid for it.” “Why are you doing this to me? Just because I won that ruby ring?” Facing my question, Zachary turned his face away, silent. I gritted my teeth and spent one million dollars to buy it. The second video began playing. The burn scar on my wrist looked particularly gruesome in close-up. I got it when Zachary came home drunk one night and I spilled hot soup while cooking. He’d frowned while applying medicine, saying “You’re so clumsy.” His tone was dismissive, but I’d mistaken the faint glimmer in his eyes for concern. Another million dollars gone. The third segment was video from our honeymoon in the Maldives. I wore the bikini he’d chosen, too shy to lift my head. In the video, my earlobes were flushed red. Catcalls erupted throughout the room. Men whispered to each other, their eyes naked with lust. An older man from finance circles wolf-whistled. “Mr. Hart, such an obedient wife and you didn’t want her? What a waste.” Another chimed in: “That body, those eyes—bet she could steal your soul in bed, couldn’t she, Mr. Hart?” I stood there, dissected and served up as a joke. No one asked if I’d consented to those videos being recorded. No one cared that back then, my eyes held only one man—Zachary Hart. Men discussed me eagerly, as if appraising “a man’s trophy.” Women smiled falsely, silent, looking at me like I was the leading lady of a self-inflicted farce. I slowly raised my head, looking toward him sitting in the first row. Zachary said nothing, still leaning back in his chair, as if the person being humiliated on screen was a stranger. Segment after segment, like peeling skin, exposing my five years. Five years centered around Zachary Hart, living only for him. I bought back fifty videos for fifty million dollars.

Until the fifty-first segment. I wore a silk nightgown, drugged at a candlelit dinner, eyes unfocused. I hadn’t known he’d tampered with the wine that night. Zachary held me in his arms, eyes tender: “Let’s try a little couples’ game tonight, hmm?” I believed him. I always believed him. The last frame of the video. The strap of my silk nightgown slipped off, exposing a large expanse of bare shoulder and collarbone. In the final shot, the strap of my silk nightgown slid down. Eyes hazy, I looked like a drunk kitten, gazing at the camera without any guard up. Leaning against the doorframe, calling to him: “Zachary…” The screen cut to black. Click—Zachary’s lighter suddenly slipped from his hand and hit the floor. He stared at the screen, his eyes flickering. His Adam’s apple bobbed violently, his gaze dark and unreadable, but he quickly composed himself. “Beg me.” He suddenly spoke, his voice arrogant and disdainful. “I’ll take back these videos.” “Maybe I’ll even consider letting you be Mrs. Hart again.” I looked at myself on the big screen, helpless and at others’ mercy, and suddenly laughed. People really do laugh when they’re speechless. “Zachary Hart, I don’t love you anymore.” Vivian seized the opportunity to fan the flames. “Serena, don’t be stubborn. Everyone knows you love Zachary to death.” “Your account balance is at zero now. If you don’t have money, stop pretending. Why don’t you… beg Mr. Hart?” I just felt like someone had stuffed ice into my lungs, my heart hollowed out. Zachary’s voice dropped low. “It’s been three months since the divorce and you still haven’t learned? You won’t come back and beg me—are you waiting for me to coax you?” He was the one who wanted the divorce, and now he was the one telling me to come back and beg. Even if Vivian hadn’t appeared, there would have been a Lisa, a Jennifer… Zachary had never treated me as a lover. He just enjoyed the thrill of controlling me. “You really think too highly of yourself. Five years of loving you was enough. Now I just want to watch you fall from your pedestal.” His eyes turned cold: “Serena Blake, you brought this on yourself!” The screen continued playing. “Mr. Hart’s ex-wife collector’s edition—this kind of explosive material has high collectible value.” “Miss Blake looks so high and mighty, but when she gets frisky, she’s really something. Finally getting to the good part.” “Look at her moves—the straps were barely tied on purpose, right? She’d do anything to get into bed.” “Mr. Hart really knows how to play. Kept her hidden so well, then when he got tired of her, put her up for auction?” The laughter grew denser, more vulgar. Those men in suits and ties laughed while commenting on my body, their eyes full of naked excitement and superiority. The men’s laughter throughout the room was piercing. Their words slashed at my face like knives. The men watching couldn’t hold back anymore and started bidding. “Three hundred thousand dollars.” “Five hundred thousand dollars.” “One million dollars.” My whole body went cold. I hadn’t expected Zachary would go this far for Vivian. I don’t remember how I managed to stay standing. My hands gripped the edge of my purse so hard my knuckles turned white. I wouldn’t allow myself even a tremor. I told myself: don’t you dare hide. I raised my hand, flashing the card, golden light gleaming, and said slowly: “I’ll pay ten times the price.”

The auctioneer maintained a professional smile, but clearly no longer believed me. “Miss Blake, my apologies, but your verified total was one hundred million dollars. The ruby cost five million, the videos five million. Your account has no funds remaining.” A strange man laughed loudly: “Spend the night with me and I’ll buy them for you.” I ignored him, focusing my gaze on Zachary. Everyone looked toward him. After all, he was my ex-husband and the instigator of all this. “Why are you looking at me? Fair bidding. Highest bidder wins.” Just then, Vivian raised her hand: “I’ll buy this item for you. After all, it was Mr. Hart and I who sponsored you together initially. I don’t want you to be so embarrassed.” She lowered her head, biting her lower lip gently. That look was indeed pure and innocent. The room fell quiet for a moment, then exploded. “One’s a shameless ex-wife, the other’s a gentle, considerate mistress… any normal man would choose Vivian!” “So sensible, knows her place. Not like someone who, after being used up, still tries to bite back.” “Tsk, Vivian’s so pure. Not like Serena Blake—acts noble, acts like a victim, but so slutty in private!” “Don’t even start. After dozens of video segments, she should’ve just begged for mercy from the beginning. If Mr. Hart softened up, he might’ve let it go.” “Now look—disgraceful and dramatic. Lost all her dignity.” Their words, one by one, hammered into my bones like nails. I was the one who’d suggested Zachary sponsor Vivian, seeing her alone and pitiful. Zachary never cared about her one bit—I handled everything. After she graduated, I arranged for her to join the company. I never imagined she’d repay kindness with betrayal and wreck my marriage. I didn’t look at Vivian or acknowledge her false sympathy. I just lowered my head and answered that phone call. It was him. My only trump card, and what my mother left me. “Miss Blake, you’ve retrieved the ruby ring. The family trust has been unfrozen. Backup account funds have been deposited.” “I understand.” I stood up. The auctioneer instinctively asked: “Miss Blake, will you continue bidding?” I raised my eyes, voice steady and cold. “I’m requesting a second verification. This time, I’m buying out the entire venue.” The room went silent for three seconds, then erupted.

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On my wedding day, my fiancé Lucas’s best friend Sienna showed up wearing my wedding dress and made videos. I watched the entire ceremony through a livestream. Lucas even fed Sienna champagne mouth-to-mouth while his friends cheered them on. The wedding host held up the microphone, working the crowd: “When are you going to bring out the real bride, Lucas? If you keep stalling, she’s probably crying by now!” Lucas swirled his glass with a laugh: “She’ll be fine. She can’t leave me anyway. I’ll just sweet-talk her later.” I turned off the monitor and walked up to Lucas carrying a portfolio: “Mr. Harper, Miss Winters. Congratulations on your nuptials. This is my gift to you.” The portfolio contained my spring haute couture designs prepared for Harper Group. I tore it to pieces in front of all the guests. “I’m officially announcing that Smith Corporation is terminating its contract with Harper Group. All collaborations are void.” Lucas, your nightmare has just begun. “The groom may now kiss the bride!” the wedding host Ethan shouted. Lucas smiled and planted a kiss on Sienna’s hand. The next second, Sienna suddenly stood on her tiptoes, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips against his. The room went silent for a moment. Then whistles and cheers erupted. “Lucas, taking it that far! Sienna, why don’t you substitute for the wedding night too?” Sienna looked at Lucas: “How are you not even surprised? I’m not satisfied with that reaction. Do it again!” Suddenly someone shouted. “Stop teasing them, or the real bride might get angry and run away!” Lucas said with a smile: “What’s she got to be angry about? Sienna and I grew up together. We’re just joking around.” Sienna hooked her arm through his and stuck her tongue out at the crowd below. “Exactly. Lucas and I have been friends for over twenty years. We kissed plenty of times as kids. When Lucas was seven, he promised to throw me a wedding. This time he’s just keeping his promise, or else he’d turn into a puppy.” Another round of laughter. Ethan was the smoothest of their friend group. He grabbed the microphone to smooth things over. “Looks like our Sienna is more eager than the bride! But that’s okay, we all know Lucas and Sienna are tight as can be. They can take a joke!” He paused and raised his voice. “The bride definitely won’t be mad, right everyone?” “Right!” The cheering nearly lifted the roof. Ethan gave a signal, and immediately someone brought over two glasses of champagne. He pressed them into Lucas and Sienna’s hands. “Come on, this toast is to your twenty-plus years of friendship!” Sienna’s eyes suddenly reddened, her voice catching. “Lucas, in the future… you can’t forget about me just because you have a wife.” Lucas publicly ruffled her hair. “What silly talk. You’ll always be my most important friend.” The two intertwined arms and drank it all. The room thundered with applause as many raised their phones to record. The wedding march changed to “Auld Lang Syne.”

Lucas pulled Sienna by the hand toward a dining table, constantly getting shoulder pats along the way. “Lucas, Sienna’s really something! You really don’t want to marry her?” Lucas laughed and punched the guy’s shoulder. “Get lost, stop talking nonsense.” But he never let go of Sienna’s hand, escorting her all the way to Mrs. Harper’s side. He leaned down to tell Sienna: “No more fooling around, okay? Emma’s still waiting for me. Just sit next to my mother.” A guest asked in confusion. “Who is this young lady?” Mrs. Harper smiled and pushed Sienna forward. “This is Sienna, Lucas’s childhood friend. She’s like our own daughter. Today we really have her to thank for livening up the atmosphere. Otherwise how could the wedding be this lively?” Sienna sweetly raised her glass. “I’m Sienna. I’m happier than anyone about Lucas getting married. The bride will be out soon.” She was charming, making a round of toasts that delighted all the elders. Mrs. Harper suddenly removed the jade bracelet from her wrist and slipped it onto Sienna’s hand. “Good girl, thank you for your hard work today.” That bracelet was a Harper family heirloom passed to daughters-in-law. Last month Mrs. Harper had personally given it to me, saying to wear it on the wedding day. I didn’t accept it, claiming it was too precious and I was afraid of damaging it. The truth was I wanted to save it for the most important moment. Now it adorned Sienna’s wrist, jade-green and translucent against her snow-white skin. Sienna gasped. “Mrs. Harper, this is too precious…” “If I’m giving it to you, wear it. Later, I’ll pick out something new for Emma.” Mrs. Harper pressed her hand down, eyes full of affection. All the guests at the table saw it, their expressions varied. Someone teased. “Mrs. Harper, why didn’t you just have Lucas marry Sienna directly?” Mr. Harper laughed heartily. “If Sienna married into our family, we’d be laughing in our sleep!” Sienna blushed and hid behind Lucas, who laughed and stood in front of her. “Mom, Dad, stop talking nonsense. I don’t even see Sienna as a woman. I only want to marry Emma for the rest of my life!” I laughed coldly, looking at my watch. It was already forty-four minutes past the scheduled wedding time. Yet no one had asked where the bride was. My phone screen lit up—a message Lucas sent five minutes ago. [Emma, Sienna was just joking, don’t take it to heart.] [I’ll have them restart the wedding ceremony now.] The phone’s glow illuminated the dim corner of the dressing room. Sienna’s livestream account was still on. The camera pointed directly at the wedding venue. The comments kept refreshing. [Holy shit, is this not the bride? She’s gorgeous!] [Wait, it’s Lucas’s wedding? He’s so handsome! They look perfect together!] [Hold on, isn’t today supposed to be Lucas and Emma Smith’s wedding? How is Sienna the bride?] [Anyone who knows them? They just said the girl in the wedding dress is Lucas’s friend of twenty-something years. It’s for views, just messing around. The real bride is backstage.] [This isn’t cool. The real bride must be fuming.]

[Mad about what? Emma was the homewrecker anyway. If it weren’t for her, Lucas and Sienna would’ve been together ages ago.] My finger scrolling through the screen paused. In the frame, Sienna leaned over to straighten his tie. The comments exploded again. [Can someone explain what actually happened?] [In college they were inseparable, okay! Everyone thought they were a couple.] [Then Emma appeared. Who knows what tricks she used, always clinging to Lucas.] [I was in Emma’s class. She was so poor back then, always eating the cheapest cafeteria food, clothes washed until they were faded. Lucas probably just felt sorry for her, then got caught.] [Isn’t this the classic rags-to-riches story? Look at that wedding dress she’s wearing—millions in custom design. She couldn’t afford it without latching onto the Harpers.] My nails dug into my palms. The camera suddenly swept across the main table. Some society wife was praising the jade bracelet on Sienna’s hand. Mrs. Harper held her hand, saying something with a smile. Comments cheered. [This is clearly the mother-in-law’s approval!] I closed my eyes. Thinking back to last month, that afternoon when Mrs. Harper personally handed me the bracelet. “Emma dear, this bracelet is a Harper family heirloom. By rights it should go to the daughter-in-law.” “But you’re young, and gentle-natured. I don’t know if jade suits your taste?” I thought Mrs. Harper was being considerate of me. Turns out she already had a more suitable candidate in mind. The comments were all praising how good they looked together, saying Lucas and Sienna were a match made in heaven. A match made in heaven? I laughed out loud, the sound jarring in the empty dressing room. My phone buzzed again—a message from my college roommate. [Emma, did you see the livestream? Don’t listen to those people talking nonsense! Lucas was the one who pursued you back then!] Yes. Lucas was the one who pursued me. Sophomore year, I was noticed by a sculpture professor who wanted me to switch majors, but I refused. The old professor was so angry his beard bristled. He made me clean the sculpture studio as punishment. Lucas was hiding from a girl who kept confessing to him. He ducked into the sculpture studio and locked the door. I was so startled I dropped the rag in my hand into the bucket. He froze, then walked over. “Cleaning all alone on such a cold day?” I ignored him and kept moving the heavy plaster blocks. He watched me for a while, then took the broom from my hands. “Let me do it. You rest.” After that he kept appearing around me. He would say: “Emma, why do you always eat alone? Join me.” “Your hands are so skilled. Whatever you make must be beautiful.” “The moment I saw this necklace, I thought it would suit you perfectly. It’s yours.” I rejected him many times. But he never minded. “Emma, I won’t give up. You’re the first girl I’ve ever liked.” The phone screen dimmed, then lit up again. Someone posted photos from my college days. Wearing a plain white shirt, expression cold. [Look at how shabby she was.] [I heard her parents died young. She was raised by her grandfather. Marrying into the Harpers is her rags-to-riches moment.] [Would the Harper parents even agree? They’re from completely different worlds.]

[What choice do they have? Maybe it’s a shotgun wedding. She does have decent looks.] The comments got increasingly vulgar. I originally thought the Harpers had no class prejudice. But now I realized. At Mrs. Harper’s age and with her scheming mind, she couldn’t possibly miss what Sienna was doing today—disrupting the wedding under the guise of jokes. She was just happy to let it happen. Using Sienna’s hand to put me in my place. To let me know that compared to a rich heiress like Sienna, I was nothing. And Lucas too. He was confident I wouldn’t back out of the wedding over this. So he let Sienna do whatever she wanted. Twenty years of childhood friendship? Doesn’t see her as a woman? More like he wanted to have his cake and eat it too under the guise of friendship. Finally, Ethan raised the microphone and called my name. “Let’s give the warmest applause to welcome today’s true star—” Just then Sienna burst through the dressing room door. “Emma, why are you still here?” Her voice was sickeningly sweet. “They’re about to toss the bouquet outside. Come play?” I closed my lipstick and turned to look at her. “Toss the bouquet?” I smiled. “Without the bride present, who’s the bouquet for?” “That’s why we need you.” Sienna stepped forward and affectionately linked arms with me. “I know you probably don’t care for all those stuffy wedding rituals anyway. Come on, I’ll go out with you. Let’s play a game, okay?” Without waiting for my answer, she pushed me into the spotlight. I signaled to the staff I’d arranged to follow me with the items. This wedding had completely turned into a farce. No one cared about the bride’s entrance. I walked casually alongside Sienna. As we walked, I asked: “What game do you want to play?” “Catching the bouquet!” She held up the lily of the valley bouquet to my face. “If I catch it, Lucas has to grant me one unconditional request. If you catch it…” She paused, her smile deepening. “I’ll give you back the bracelet Mrs. Harper just gave me. Fair, right?” She deliberately stopped and looked toward Mrs. Harper. Mrs. Harper’s expression changed. “Nonsense!” She walked over quickly, first glaring at me before turning to Sienna. “Sienna, that bracelet was my gift to you. How can you use it as a wager?” Then she looked at me. “Emma, Sienna likes to play around. You don’t need to humor her.” The room fell quiet. Everyone was watching me. I laughed lightly. “Mrs. Harper, Miss Winters proposed both the bet and the game. She also skipped all the original wedding ceremony steps. I think she’s quite eager to play this game.” Mrs. Harper was speechless. I stopped looking at her and turned to Sienna. “Since we’re playing, let me add to the stakes. If you win, I’ll give you a big gift.” Sienna’s eyes lit up. “What gift?” “You’ll find out soon.” A space had already been cleared in the banquet hall. Their friends formed a semicircle, ready to catch the bouquet. She showed a confident smile and stood in the center of the crowd. The groomsmen exchanged glances and inconspicuously positioned themselves behind her. Ethan began the countdown. “Three.” The groomsmen quietly moved forward half a step. “Two.” Sienna was already rising on her tiptoes. “One!”

I threw it hard backward. The bouquet arced through the air. The groomsmen all jumped at once, hands reaching in the same direction. Sienna was protected in their midst. Someone batted the bouquet, and it spun mid-air. The lily of the valley flew over all the reaching hands, heading straight for Lucas. He caught it instinctively, with barely a second’s hesitation. He directly stuffed the bouquet into Sienna’s hands. The room went silent for a second. “Man, I thought Lucas would side with his woman, but turns out he’s thinking of our Sienna first.” “You’re done for. Careful the missus doesn’t let you into the wedding chamber tonight.” “What’s to fear? Our Sienna’s wearing a wedding dress too. If there can be two brides, why not two wedding chambers?” “Right, right. With Sienna and Lucas’s revolutionary friendship, worst case Sienna makes another sacrifice.” Only when the suggestive cheers erupted did Lucas realize what he’d done. He looked at me, face full of awkwardness. “Emma, don’t mind it. She’s been eyeing this bouquet all day. If I didn’t give it to her, she’d make a scene again.” Sienna hugged the bouquet, cheeks flushed, playfully punching Lucas. “Listen to you, making it sound like Emma’s so petty. She’s always been the most generous, right, Emma?” I looked at her, suddenly remembering how in college she’d done the same thing—using an innocent tone to say the most hurtful words. Back then, Lucas had specially flown abroad to prepare my first birthday gift, bidding on a pink diamond necklace. The next day it was around Sienna’s neck. I stared at that necklace in shock. Lucas rubbed his nose. Before he could speak, Sienna said in an envious tone: “I’ve had my eye on this necklace forever. There’s only one, and he snagged it first. Lucas said I could borrow it for a while. That’s okay, right, Emma?” She stuck out her tongue then. “Emma’s so generous, she definitely won’t be mad.” Lucas chimed in from the side. “Exactly. It’s just a necklace. Next time I’ll pick an even better one for you.” But I never received any necklace after that. That pink diamond eventually just sat gathering dust in Sienna’s jewelry box. “Emma? You’re not actually mad, are you?” Sienna’s voice pulled me back. I smiled gently and said softly: “It’s just a bouquet. Why would I care?” Lucas suddenly looked at me. He seemed to sense something. He was about to walk toward me when Sienna grabbed his arm. “You just agreed to grant me one unconditional request. Come closer.” I watched as Sienna stood on tiptoes, lips pressed against Lucas’s ear. His ears instantly turned bright red. He tried to dodge sideways but was pulled back. I stood at the edge of the crowd, taking it all in. Lucas’s lack of hesitation. Sienna’s sense of entitlement. The smile on Mrs. Harper’s face. The guests’ suggestive jeering. I turned and walked toward the mobile display that had been sitting in the corner of the banquet hall. My heels clicked softly on the marble floor, but step by step, I cut through the crowd. The noise gradually died down. All eyes turned to me. I stopped in front of the display, hand on the edge of the red silk, and yanked it off. “Mr. Harper, Miss Winters. Congratulations on your nuptials, and congratulations to me for finally having nothing more to do with the Harper family.”

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“Transfer this $8 million in sales to Lily’s account.” Sales Director Zachary Grant slammed the file in front of me, his tone brooking no argument. Lily was an intern who’d just started yesterday. She couldn’t even use Excel. “Why should I?” I asked. Zachary replied: “Lily just graduated. She needs the sales numbers. You’re a senior employee—you should help new people. Besides, you’re going on maternity leave next month. Even if you win top salesperson, you won’t get promoted. Better to give it to your sister.” $8 million in sales meant a commission of $240,000. He wanted me to gift $240,000 to his little mistress? “What if I don’t transfer it?” “Then forget about maternity leave. Just resign.” I picked up the pen and signed the transfer form. Lily smiled. Zachary smiled too. I smiled as well. They didn’t know that this $8 million client was my ex-husband. An ex-husband who wasn’t just wealthy, but who was currently tearing the world apart trying to find me so we could remarry.

After signing, I capped the pen. Zachary smugly tucked the document into his briefcase—this was his only chip for pushing for vice president this quarter. “Thank you so much.” Lily leaned over, batting her innocent big eyes: “I just got here and don’t know anything. I’ll need Susan to teach me a lot from now on. This client… is he mean?” I looked at her. Skin so smooth you could squeeze water from it, eyes as clear as a college student’s. Unfortunately, she was an idiot. “Not mean at all.” I smiled. “Mr. Caldwell really likes innocent young girls. You should’ve deliberately fallen into his arms. He eats that right up.” “Really?” Lily’s eyes lit up. “Like in those short videos?” “Exactly.” Zachary listened from the side, his expression approving: “Susan, that’s the right attitude. Training new employees is your responsibility as a supervisor. When Lily closes this deal, I’ll save you a spot for the Outstanding Employee award at year-end.” Outstanding Employee. A $2,000 bonus. He took my $240,000 commission and wanted to buy me off with $2,000. “Thank you, Mr. Grant.” I stood up. “I’ll head back now. My morning sickness has been pretty bad these past few days.” I turned and walked out of the office. The moment the door closed, I heard laughter inside. “She’s so dumb, signing just like that.” “Of course. Pregnant women are the easiest to manipulate. Would she dare not sign? If she didn’t, I’d cut her maternity pay and kick her out.” “So that bag you promised to buy me…” “I’ll buy it! Once this commission comes through, I’ll get you whatever you want!” I touched my slightly swollen belly. I was a single mom. In this city, with no house and no car, I relied entirely on this job to support myself and the baby inside me. Zachary knew this perfectly well. He thought that for my salary, for my leave, I could only swallow my anger. If this were the old Susan, maybe I really would have endured it. But this time was different. I pulled out my phone and opened my contacts. In the blocked list lay a name: Adrian Caldwell. Also known as the “$8 million big client” in Zachary’s mouth. Also known as the madman who’d nearly turned Sea City upside down looking for me. Adrian and I had been divorced for three years. We divorced because he was too busy—so busy that his assistant came to sign for my appendicitis surgery, so busy that I blew out birthday candles alone. I didn’t lack money. I lacked love. So I left. Left cleanly, changed my phone number, changed cities. He searched for me like a madman. He’d been searching for three years. I never let anyone know about my past. In my colleagues’ eyes, I was a single mom abandoned by a scumbag. In Zachary’s eyes, I was a nobody with no connections, someone to be slaughtered at will. My phone vibrated. A text from the bank. Mortgage deduction: -$6,800. Balance: $3,205.40. This was everything I had. Originally, that $240,000 was meant to be saved for the baby’s formula and my postpartum care. Now Zachary had snatched it away to buy bags for his mistress. Perfect. People need not only a bottom line but also teeth. Since you won’t act human, don’t blame me for letting the dog loose. Lily posted a new Instagram. A selfie. The background was my workspace. She held Adrian’s project materials, making a peace sign. Caption: “Hardworking girls will have good luck! I’ll do my best!” A row of colleagues liked it below. Even Zachary commented: “Promising future.” I opened Adrian’s profile. Removed him from my blocked list, then sent him a message: “You there? Let’s talk.” Less than three seconds after I sent it, he called. “Susan? Is it you? Susan?” “It’s me.” “Where are you?” His voice instantly grew urgent. “Send me your location! I’ll come right now! I…” “Fine. Tomorrow afternoon at three, HongTech, conference room. I’ll be waiting for you to sign the contract.” “HongTech?” He paused. “You work at that company?” “Yes.” “Okay, I’ll definitely be there.” “There’s one more thing I need your help with.” “Tell me. I’ll give you anything you want.” A cold smile curved my lips. “Tomorrow, pretend you don’t know me.” “What?” “Not only pretend you don’t know me, but take good care of my colleague.” Silence on the other end for one second. Then came Adrian’s low, dangerous voice with a hint of pleading. “Who bullied you?” “You’ll find out tomorrow.” “Okay.” He said. “Susan, as long as you’re willing to see me, I’ll commit murder or arson.”

The next day. The entire sales department was on high alert. Zachary wore the custom suit he’d only worn at his wedding, his hair slicked back so shiny a fly would do the splits landing on it. Lily was even more dressed up. Short skirt, black stockings, low-cut top. Heavy makeup, perfume so strong it could knock you over from six feet away. “Susan, how do I look?” She turned to ask me. I was sitting in the corner eating bread—my lunch. “Pretty good.” I nodded sincerely. “Very… professional.” Nightclub professional. “That’s a relief.” She relaxed, proudly pushing out her chest. “Mr. Grant said Mr. Caldwell, being such a big boss, sees career women all the time and prefers someone delicate like me.” I suppressed a laugh. Adrian hated perfume more than anything. He had severe rhinitis. And he especially hated women who dressed like they were going clubbing during business meetings. He was a typical abstinent workaholic. Back when I tried to match his preferences, my closet was full of black, white, and gray business attire. I only dared wear faint woody fragrances. Lily waved the folder in her hand. “Mr. Grant said if I close this deal, I’ll be converted to a permanent position. I’ll treat you to boba tea then.” “No need.” I swallowed the last bite of bread. “Keep it for yourself. After all…” After all, this might be your last meal in this industry. “After all what?” “Nothing.” I grabbed a napkin and wiped my mouth. “Good luck.” 2:50 PM. A convoy of black Maybachs stopped downstairs from the company. Quite the spectacle. Zachary led the entire sales department to line up at the entrance in welcome. I stood at the very end, like a ghost. The car door opened. First came four bodyguards in black. Then a pair of shiny leather shoes, long legs. Adrian stepped out. Three years later, he was thinner, the sharp edge in his eyes even heavier. Zachary immediately rushed over with a fawning smile, bowing at a ninety-degree angle. “Mr. Caldwell! Welcome, welcome! I’m Sales Director Zachary Grant. I’ve heard so much about you!” Adrian didn’t look at him. His gaze swept through the crowd like radar. Finally, it locked onto me in the corner. I looked at him expressionlessly and shook my head slightly. His eyes instantly turned cold as an ice cellar as he strode inside. In the conference room. Zachary gave the head seat to Adrian. “Mr. Caldwell, we take this project very seriously. We’ve specially assigned our department’s most promising… that one, Lily!” Lily swayed over. “Hello, Mr. Caldwell~” That greeting had a sugar content of four pluses. She carried a cup of coffee, her body practically pressing against Adrian. “Mr. Caldwell, I specially ground this coffee for you. Careful, it’s hot~” Adrian recoiled like he’d seen something filthy. “Achoo!” “Mr. Caldwell, are you alright?” Lily panicked and reached out to pat his back. “Is the air conditioning too cold?” “Get away!” Adrian shot to his feet, swatting her hand away. The movement was too forceful—the coffee cup toppled. Brown liquid splashed all over Lily and onto Zachary’s face. Lily froze in place, tears welling in her eyes: “Mr… Mr. Caldwell?” “Who told you to get so close?” Adrian pulled out a handkerchief and wiped his hands in disgust. “Is this HongTech’s hospitality?” Zachary’s face went white with fear as he frantically wiped his face with tissues: “A misunderstanding! Mr. Caldwell, this is a misunderstanding! Lily’s new, she doesn’t know better…” Adrian sneered. “This kind of trash can get into your company? Are you running a nightclub?” I lowered my head, my shoulders trembling slightly. From suppressing laughter. Lily burst into tears with a wail. “What are you crying for!” Zachary roared. “Get out!” Lily covered her face and ran out. Zachary rubbed his hands awkwardly: “Mr. Caldwell, please calm down. How about… I present the proposal?” “Are you qualified?” “I’ve seen your proposal. It’s garbage.” Zachary’s smile froze on his face. “But this is… this is our best…” “Who made it?” Adrian interrupted him. Zachary’s eyes darted around. “Originally… Susan made it.” He pointed to me in the corner. “But she’s incompetent, her thinking is confused. Later Lily took over and revised it.” Good grief. Just now he said it was Lily’s achievement. Now that something went wrong, it became mine. Adrian followed his finger and looked at me. “Oh?” He raised an eyebrow. “Susan?” “Yes, yes, it’s her! Mr. Caldwell, it’s all because she’s incompetent! This proposal was mainly her responsibility. I said from the start she wasn’t up to it. You see…” “Since she was responsible for it.” Adrian interrupted him. “Then let her present it.” Zachary frantically waved at me: “Susan! What are you standing there for? Come present the proposal to Mr. Caldwell!” As he spoke, he desperately gave me meaningful looks. Meaning: Hold it together. If you screw this up, you’re fired. Everyone’s eyes focused on me. Some sympathetic, most waiting for the show. I walked to the projector. Without a USB drive, without documents. “Mr. Caldwell.” I spoke, my voice calm. “The proposal doesn’t need presenting.” “Why not?” “Because that proposal is indeed garbage.” Zachary gasped. “Susan! What nonsense are you talking! Do you want to get fired!” I ignored him and continued looking at Adrian. “The real proposal is in my head.” “The $8 million order includes three phases. Phase one focuses on smart upgrades, accounting for 40% of the budget. But I believe your company’s pain point isn’t hardware—it’s data integration.” “If we follow the original proposal, you’d just be swapping in a batch of more expensive computers. But if we follow my approach, it could save your company 15% in operating costs annually.” I spoke for three minutes straight. Professional, precise, hitting the nail on the head. This was the real proposal I’d stayed up three nights working on. Not the watered-down garbage I gave Lily. Adrian watched me. His Adam’s apple bobbed. His expression shifted from appreciation to infatuation. “Good.” “Very good.” He stood up and even clapped twice. “This is the proposal I want.” He turned to look at Zachary, his gaze instantly switching back to looking-at-garbage mode. “Mr. Grant, you just said this proposal was revised by… who?” Zachary was sweating bullets: “Mr. Caldwell, this… this…” “I think Mr. Grant isn’t that old. How did you go blind?” Adrian said coldly. “Such an excellent talent, and you say she’s incompetent?” “Or are you… trying to steal her credit?” Zachary’s legs went weak: “No… that’s not it! A misunderstanding! All a misunderstanding!” Adrian sneered and looked at me. “Miss Susan, I admire your proposal very much.” “For this deal, I’ll only sign with you.” Zachary was overjoyed: “Good, good! Signing with Susan is the same! It’s all the company’s achievement!” “Wait.” I spoke up. “Mr. Caldwell, before signing the contract, I have a few conditions.” “First, this deal’s performance must be credited to my personal account. The commission points must be written clearly in black and white in the contract—$240,000, not a penny less. And it must be paid immediately.” Zachary’s expression changed: “Susan, company policy…” “Second.” I interrupted him. “I’m taking maternity leave. All maternity benefits will be executed at the highest standard. If anyone dares dock a single penny, I’ll go to labor arbitration.” Zachary gritted his teeth: “You…” “Third.” I smiled and pointed to the door. “That girl named Lily—I don’t want to see her in the company again.” “Because I’m allergic to cheap perfume.” “Susan! Don’t push it!” Zachary finally couldn’t hold back. “Are you the supervisor or am I? You think you can fire whoever you want?” “Mr. Grant.” Adrian suddenly spoke. “I think Miss Susan’s suggestions are very reasonable.” “If you don’t agree…” He adjusted his cuffs, his tone casual. “Then this $8 million deal is off.” “Also, I’ll let all my friends in the industry know.” “HongTech’s integrity is questionable.” That one sentence was Zachary’s death sentence. Finally, he ground his teeth and squeezed out a few words: “Fine… I agree.” I smiled. “Mr. Grant is generous.” I turned to look at Adrian. “Mr. Caldwell, shall we… discuss the details over dinner tonight?” Adrian’s eyes lit up as he nodded frantically. “Yes! I’m free! I’m free right now!” He looked exactly like a golden retriever waiting for its owner’s touch.

Outside the company entrance. Adrian transformed into a different person. He grabbed my hand, his grip so tight it felt like he’d crush my bones. “Susan!” I shook off his hand. “Mr. Caldwell, please show some restraint.” “This is right outside the company.” He froze in place, as awkward as a child who’d done something wrong. “I’m sorry… I got too excited.” “These three years, where did you go? I nearly went crazy looking for you.” “Do you know why I didn’t want to see you?” I looked at him coldly. “Because you’re a lunatic.” “Yes, I’m a lunatic.” He smiled bitterly. “Without you, I can’t be normal.” He looked at my belly. His expression was impossibly complex. “The child… whose is it?” I touched my belly. “Not yours, anyway.” Adrian’s face instantly turned deathly pale, his fists clenched so hard they cracked. “Where’s the man?” “Dead.” I said flatly. “Dead?” He froze for a moment, then a strange light burst in his eyes. “Good that he’s dead… good that he’s dead!” “Now no one can compete with me.” “Susan, I don’t mind.” He rushed over and grabbed my shoulders. “I really don’t mind. I’ll raise him as my own. Come home with me, okay?” “Adrian, how desperate for love are you?” “I only want you.” His eyes were red. “As long as you’re by my side, I can endure anything.” I pushed him away. “But I don’t want to endure.” “I contacted you today only to use you.” “Now that I’m done using you, you can leave.” Adrian didn’t get angry. Instead, he smiled. “Using me means I still have value.” “Susan, since you’re using me, use me thoroughly.” “That Zachary—do you think this is the end?” I frowned: “What do you mean?” “Someone like him—tonight’s dinner is the real show.” “Do you want to completely destroy him?” I looked at Adrian. “What do you want to do?” “I don’t want to do anything.” He straightened his tie. “I just want to help you… take out the trash.” 7 PM that evening. In a private room at the seafood restaurant, smoke filled the air. Zachary didn’t invite the big boss because he wanted to play dirty. Besides me and Adrian, there were three unfamiliar men in the room. Mr. Wilson, who dealt in building materials—notorious as a dinner table predator. “Mr. Wilson, this is Susan.” Zachary smiled disgustingly. “Not only is she excellent at business, her alcohol tolerance is legendary.” Mr. Wilson squinted as he looked me over, his gaze lingering on my slightly swollen belly for a second before a lewd smile appeared. “Miss Susan, you’re pregnant?” I looked at him coldly: “Yes.” “Pregnancy is good. Pregnancy has charm.” Mr. Wilson raised a glass of liquor. “Come, Miss Susan, this one’s for you.” A full glass of high-proof liquor. Zachary chimed in from the side: “Susan, Mr. Wilson is a key supplier for our project. You need to give him face.” “I’m not drinking.” Mr. Wilson’s face darkened. “If you don’t drink this today, I’ll cut off building materials tomorrow. Let’s see how you explain that to the big boss!” Adrian sat in the main seat, playing with his lighter. He said nothing. He was waiting for me to beg him. Three years ago it was the same—I wouldn’t bow my head, so he wouldn’t extend his hand. The game between us had always been about who would soften first, who would surrender first. But my greatest strength has always been my stubborn spine. “Cut off supply?” I pulled out my phone. “I’ll contact backup suppliers right now.” Mr. Wilson slammed his palm on the table. “Ungrateful bitch!” He stood up, his greasy fat hand reaching directly for my shoulder. “Acting all high and mighty? Pregnant and still coming out to drink with clients—who knows whose bastard…” His hand never touched me. A wine bottle exploded on his head. “CRASH!” Glass shards flew, mixed with red wine, flowing down Mr. Wilson’s face like blood. Adrian held the remaining half of the bottle, his face sinister. “Mr… Mr. Caldwell?” Mr. Wilson covered his head, scared stiff. Zachary was so frightened he’d crawled under the table. “You think you’re worthy of touching her?” He kicked Mr. Wilson in the stomach, knocking him to the ground. Then he stepped on Mr. Wilson’s chest, bent down, and pointed the sharp glass at his eyeball. “She’s mine.” “The child in her belly is also mine.” “Who did you call a bastard?” I was stunned. Adrian had gone crazy? He actually publicly claimed this “bastard”? Mr. Wilson literally pissed himself—really pissed himself. A foul smell spread. “Mr. Caldwell, spare me! I didn’t know this was your wife! I didn’t know!” Adrian withdrew his foot in disgust. “Get lost.” Mr. Wilson scrambled away on all fours. Zachary crawled out from under the table, trembling all over: “Mr… Mr. Caldwell, this…” “You too. Get lost.” Adrian didn’t even look at him. Zachary fled as if pardoned, running faster than a rabbit. Only the two of us remained in the private room. Adrian threw down the bottle and pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his hands. Then he turned and approached me step by step. That oppressive presence made me instinctively back away until my waist hit the table—nowhere left to retreat. He braced his hands on either side of me, caging me in his territory. “Susan.” He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice hoarse. “I just saved you.” “As repayment, tell me.” “Who is that man?” I looked into his bloodshot eyes. “Didn’t Mr. Caldwell just say it was yours?” “That was to protect your reputation!” He roared. “But…” He took a deep breath and buried his head in the crook of my neck. “But if you’re willing to come back to me.” “I can play dumb.” “Just don’t disappear again.” My heart jolted sharply. This man, proud to his very bones, had humbled himself to dust for me. Too bad. The more he did this, the less I could turn back. I pushed him away and straightened my clothes. “Mr. Caldwell, thank you for earlier.” “I forgot to tell you—I got married to my boyfriend last month.” “Please maintain appropriate boundaries.” I grabbed my bag and fled from the private room. Behind me came the sound of shattering plates. And Adrian’s desperate roar: “Susan! You don’t have a fucking heart!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “356825”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #重生Reborn #浪漫Romance

My parents spent hundreds of thousands throwing a birthday party at a hotel for my twin sister, Kinsley. Meanwhile, I was working there as a waitress. After five years apart, when they saw me, their faces instantly darkened. But they didn’t want anything to do with me. That is, until they saw me kneeling on the ground, licking up food scraps for a thousand-dollar tip. Mom immediately stepped forward to scold me: “Colleen! I think you’ve gone crazy for money—you’ll do anything!” “If you want money, just say so! Why put on this show and humiliate us on purpose?” I knelt there in embarrassment, head down, saying nothing. Yes, I really would do anything for money. Because without that thousand dollars, I was going to die. Mocking voices surrounded me, everyone waiting to see what I’d do. A thousand dollars really wasn’t much—not even enough to buy a pair of socks for anyone here. But to me, it was everything. Kinsley stood nearby with my parents, but they didn’t stop it. Because they thought it was embarrassing. But when they actually saw me kneel down and lower my head to lick the floor, my parents finally couldn’t take it anymore. “Enough!” The laughter stopped. I froze, then numbly raised my head. Some inexplicable hope stirred in my heart. I saw Kinsley standing between my parents in a haute couture gown, looking like a little princess. Dad’s eyes were red with fury as he said: “Colleen! You know today is Kinsley’s birthday party—why can’t you stop causing trouble even after all these years!” “You’ve made your mother sick with anger! Stop performing—even if you swallow glass, we won’t forgive you!” Almost everyone here knew our family’s situation. They all turned to look at me with condemnation. I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. “I haven’t done anything wrong. I don’t need your forgiveness.” The bite of food I’d just eaten contained shards of glass that had rolled into my mouth. When I spoke, my mouth was full of the taste of blood. But compared to everything else, this pain was nothing. “You!” Even Mom, who’d been silent, stepped forward angrily. Kinsley wiped away tears pitifully: “Colleen, after all the terrible things you did back then, after you pushed Mom down the stairs and left her with permanent health problems…” “Don’t you feel any guilt at all? And now you’re here to ruin my birthday…” Seeing his daughter’s distress and his wife’s pale face, Dad stepped forward. He slapped me hard across the face. Pain shot through me as I fell into the broken glass, blood flowing freely. “After all these years! You still haven’t learned!” Through my dizziness, I looked past Dad. That face identical to mine was watching me with mockery. Even five years later, I remained amazed by Kinsley’s acting skills. But I really had nothing to feel guilty about. Not because I was cold-blooded. But because I wasn’t actually Colleen at all! The Mitchell family had twin daughters. The older sister, Kinsley, was quiet and refined. The younger, Colleen, was rebellious and notorious. Five years ago, my name was still Kinsley. Colleen was naturally rebellious and unmanageable. She bullied classmates at school, had terrible grades, and dabbled in smoking and drinking. Our parents worried constantly about her. I’d been obedient and sensible since childhood, so I didn’t want to add to their troubles. I worked hard at everything, but became invisible at home. Mom hired expensive tutors for Colleen, while I, with my good grades, naturally didn’t need any. Dad personally drove Colleen to and from school every day, while I only had a driver, year-round. When Colleen wanted desserts, they’d wait in line all night, but they’d just transfer money to me and tell me to figure out my own dinner. Even the room I’d lived in since childhood was taken away because Colleen took a liking to it. Mom said: “Colleen says if she switches rooms, she’ll straighten up. You know how exhausting it is for Mom to deal with her.” “You’ve always been so understanding—you get it, right?” I only remember how warm Mom’s hand felt on mine at that moment. So I nodded without thinking. But Colleen didn’t straighten up. Instead, she got worse. Until one day, my parents caught her stealing Grandma’s heirloom that she’d left to Mom. Colleen had sold it for cash and secretly gone to a bar. The heirloom was lost, impossible to recover. My parents were furious and even hit Colleen. In a fit of rage, Colleen actually pushed Mom down the stairs! Amid the chaos, Mom lay in a pool of blood. Realizing what she’d done, Colleen panicked for the first time. She ran away. I didn’t realize then that this would be the beginning of my descent into hell. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have run out to find her, only to be knocked unconscious with a single hit. When I woke up again, our identities had been switched. She’d cut my long hair and styled hers to match mine. By the time I got back to the hospital, Colleen was already at Mom’s bedside. “Dad…” As soon as I approached, Dad kicked me to the ground. Intense pain washed over me. “Colleen, you dare come back! Look what you’ve done!” Dad’s eyes were bloodshot, trembling with rage. “After raising you all these years, this is how you repay us? Do you know that because of you, your mother will have to take medication for the rest of her life?” I’m not! I’m not Colleen! But no matter how I explained, he wouldn’t listen. He just thought I was making excuses. I even knelt at his feet, begging him to really look at me. But in the end, I was mercilessly dragged out of the hospital room. “Starting today, I’m cutting all ties with you, Colleen!” “From now on, whether you live or die has nothing to do with us!” No matter how much I cried out, no one listened. Finally, security dragged me out. As I struggled, I saw Mom wake up. Colleen was obediently giving her water, imitating how I used to act. “Mom has wronged you all these years, Kinsley.” Mom held Colleen’s hand, weak but affectionate. But the real Kinsley had already been thrown out of the hospital.

“I ate it. Can I have the money now?” I stood up expressionlessly and held out my hand to the person who’d challenged me in the first place. Countless glass shards were embedded in my thigh, blood staining my pants. But I was only fixated on getting the money. With a loud crash, Dad knocked my phone out of my hand. It smashed hard against the floor. “Nobody give her any money! Don’t do such disgusting things while wearing Kinsley’s face!” Dad said with disgust. Disgusting? Maybe it really was. In these five years of struggle, as long as it paid, had I done any less dirty, exhausting work? Otherwise I wouldn’t have developed cancer. I rushed to pick up my phone—it was my most valuable possession. I’d bought it with money saved from a year of janitorial work. When I was kicked out, I had nothing. I’d knelt at the front door begging. I’d slept in underpasses. I’d stayed in parks. Finally, I’d faced reality. The name Colleen had such a terrible reputation. Even as a janitor, I was constantly made things difficult for. I’d ended up with various health problems before I could afford this phone. I picked it up with trembling hands. The screen was shattered. Seeing the red chilblains on my hands, Mom’s heart softened. Twin sisters—one as delicate as a flower, the other humble as dirt in the dust. “Just go…” Mom said. “Leave now, and we won’t make things difficult for you. Just stop hurting people!” The handprint on my face, the glass in my thigh, the garbage I’d eaten. All evening, I didn’t know who I’d hurt. I only knew that I was in so much pain. My stomach began cramping violently. I hadn’t had medicine in so long. I needed that money. But in the end, I still didn’t get it. Because once again, I was thrown out by security. I returned to the kitchen in a daze. “Starting today, don’t come back!” the manager said coldly. My lips went white with panic. “Why!” “Why? Keeping you here is just trouble. I hired you because you seemed honest, but I didn’t know you had such connections. We can’t accommodate you here!” The manager shook off my hand without mercy. “What about my wages for this month…” I said anxiously. “Wages? You dare ask for wages? Get out!” The manager slammed the door and left. The Mitchell family was a major client. No one dared offend them. And I was the Mitchell family’s despised enemy, so no one would treat me well. I couldn’t stay here anymore either. But I never expected that in the end, I’d lose both my wages and that thousand-dollar tip. Because Colleen was a sinner who’d done evil, she would never have it easy for the rest of her life. But I’m not Colleen! Why, why did I have to suffer all this? I could only pack my things and return to my dwelling. The damp, cramped basement had no sunlight. But it was my only shelter for these five years. Without this month’s wages, I probably couldn’t even afford the rent for this basement room. The day I was diagnosed with cancer, my life collapsed. I didn’t want to die yet. Cancer hurts so much. I often woke up in the middle of the night in pain, drenched in sweat. My nails scraped hard against the walls, leaving bloody marks, but it still couldn’t stop the pain. Medicine could suppress it, but it was too expensive. So I endured it. I scrimped and saved, just to afford chemotherapy. Now I was just a thousand dollars short. I really needed that thousand dollars. I removed my clothes and used tweezers to extract the glass from my leg. The blood from last night had long since dried. The glass shards were deeply embedded. I had to pull hard to get them out. The pain made my vision go black. My consciousness wasn’t clear, but my parents’ words still echoed in my mind. “From now on, whether you live or die has nothing to do with us!” “Stop hurting people…” Five years had passed, and we’d met again. Every word they said still tugged at my heart. I often dreamed that I was the current Kinsley. That Mom and Dad loved me. When pain woke me from these dreams in the middle of the night… I realized that what I wanted most was simply to go home. Back when I was still Kinsley, my parents didn’t love me. Now that I wasn’t Kinsley anymore, my parents still didn’t love me. Is there a time difference for being loved? No—it’s just that I was the wrong person. I woke again to urgent ringing. “Colleen, today is the last day for payment. If you don’t pay, we can’t schedule your chemotherapy.” It was a nurse from the hospital. “I’m so sorry. Could you please give me a little more time?” I pleaded weakly. “It’s not easy for us either. So many people are waiting to save their lives! We can’t delay others’ lives because of you!” I could only promise to pay by tomorrow. But where was I going to get the money? Just then, someone pounded hard on the basement door. The drunk landlord had come to collect rent. I hadn’t paid rent for two months because I was saving for chemotherapy. I should have gotten my wages last night, but I’d returned empty-handed. I only had two hundred dollars left. The landlord took the two bills with disgust, then slapped them back in my face without mercy. “No money and you still rent? I’ve been sick of looking at you! If you can’t pay rent, get out!” He threw my belongings out of the room like garbage. Finally, he grabbed me and threw me out onto the floor outside the door. Already injured, pain shot through my entire body. I couldn’t get up for a long time. When I came to my senses, the landlord had already locked the door. My belongings were scattered on the ground like trash. The last place in this world that could shelter me had been taken away too.

My broken phone screen lit up. An anonymous text gave only a location. All these years I’d been searching for the heirloom that Colleen had sold. I’d finally found it! With it, whether I was Kinsley or Colleen, I could go home, right? I’d imagined this countless times. Because I was so tired. I missed the old days so much. Even if they didn’t love me, it was okay—as long as I had a home to return to. So I didn’t bother picking up my scattered belongings. I got up and took a five-hour bus ride to get there. Five years ago, that jade bracelet had changed hands several times before being bought by this family. They’d been planning to use it as a wedding gift. “What would it take for you to sell it to me?” I asked urgently. The woman with narrow eyes squinted, then held up a number with her fingers. I froze in place. After hesitating for a long time, I finally took out the card I’d sewn into the lining of my clothes. This money was what I’d been saving for chemotherapy. I was just a thousand short of being able to go. But it was okay. Once I got the jade bracelet home and told Mom and Dad about my cancer… They definitely wouldn’t ignore me. Then I wouldn’t have to hurt anymore. I received the box with both hands, holding it treasured in my arms. Then I took another five-hour bus ride back. After five years, I returned to the front of the Mitchell family villa. As soon as I entered, I saw the three of them eating dinner in the living room, happy and harmonious. Seeing me, Dad’s expression changed drastically. “What are you doing here! You’re not welcome here!” He was about to come push me out the door. Mom stood up, frowning, wanting to speak but hesitating. “I found it—I found the bracelet!” Like offering a treasure, I took the bracelet from my chest. Hearing this, Mom and Dad’s eyes lit up. Mom excitedly stepped forward to receive it, opening the box and examining it carefully. Seeing their happy expressions, I couldn’t help feeling excited. So I carefully told them about having cancer. My parents’ faces instantly went white. After all, I was their biological daughter. After all, they’d doted on me for so many years. No one could remain unmoved. Mom even came forward, took my hand, and her eyes reddened. “What cancer? Don’t be scared—Mom will take you to get treatment!” So warm—it made me dazed for a moment. So I missed the darkness in Kinsley’s eyes behind her. “Are you really sick?” she spoke up, interrupting this tender moment. “Mom, I forgot to tell you—I found this bracelet a few days ago too.” With that, she pulled out an identical jade bracelet from her chest. In that instant, my whole body felt like it had fallen into an ice cellar. Which was real and which was fake became obvious with a comparison. Even Mom reacted to this. Usually gentle, she couldn’t suppress her anger and slapped me hard across the face. Heaven one moment, hell the next. I was knocked to the ground. “I thought you’d turned over a new leaf! To think you’d use something like this to scam money!” “And cancer—why doesn’t cancer just kill you!” she roared. Overcome with rage, Mom suddenly couldn’t breathe and collapsed to the ground. I tried to help her up, but Dad kicked me away. That kick landed right on my stomach. My stomach immediately began cramping violently, a heavy taste of blood surging into my mouth. “People like you deserve to die! Why don’t you just die!” Dad pointed at me and roared. “Having a daughter like you is the greatest shame of my life!” They didn’t even give me a chance to explain. Five years ago, when I explained I wasn’t Colleen, they wouldn’t listen. Five years later, they’d stripped away even the right to explain. Thinking of the joy and warmth from just minutes ago… Thinking of the jade bracelet I’d carefully protected all the way here… The world spun around me. I didn’t even seem to have the strength to breathe. Only one thought remained in my mind. The money I’d saved for chemotherapy—I’d used it all to buy a fake bracelet. It hurt so much. “I’m really dying, Mom and Dad…” Swallowing the blood in my mouth, my voice was hoarse and weak. But no one was moved. “Ha! If you died, everyone would be happy!” Dad helped Mom to the sofa and said mockingly. The disappointment in Mom’s eyes, the hatred in Dad’s eyes, the smugness in Kinsley’s eyes—it all hurt my eyes to look at. Actually, I’d known for a while that even with chemotherapy, I wouldn’t live much longer. But I just wanted to try. Now, there was no need for that anymore. It was pouring rain outside as I was thrown out the door once again. Like garbage. The doors of the Mitchell house had shut me out once more. For the next month, they never saw me again. But no one cared. Because they were busy setting up a charity foundation in Colleen’s name, paving the way for her future. At the press conference, a reporter asked: “I heard you have twin daughters. Why is there so little news about the other one?” Dad’s face went cold as he said sternly: “We only have one daughter, Kinsley. Other irrelevant people—whether they live or die has nothing to do with us!” This completely severed any connection with me. If I’d seen that interview, I might have been heartbroken. But I would never see it. Late at night, Mom woke from her sleep. “Do you think Colleen might really be sick? That day, I found some blood on the floor.” She said worriedly. But Dad just laughed dismissively. “You’re too soft-hearted! What could be wrong with her? Disasters last a thousand years—I think she left it on purpose to make us feel bad!” But Dad, this time you’ll be disappointed. This disaster won’t last a thousand years. An urgent phone ring interrupted his words. He picked up the phone. On the other end was a police officer, speaking in an official, cold tone. “Hello, is this Mr. Mitchell? There’s a body here that needs you to come identify it.”

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