Author: Momo Chan

A moment before the flames swallowed me, I saw my husband and my best friend locked in a smiling embrace. He said, “Serena, you deserve to die.” When I opened my eyes, I was back the night before my wedding. This time, I had their car rendezvous filmed in advance and set it to play on a loop on the wedding screens. In front of all the guests, I played the recording. “Once Serena is dead, the inheritance will all be ours.” The two who drove me to my death in my past life, one went bankrupt, the other went to prison. The ex I’d abandoned came to me at last. “Now that you’ve had your revenge, can you turn and look at me?” My new husband placed a hand on my back. “Honey, has the baby been bothering you today?” Serena’s POV I was reborn on the night before my wedding. One moment I was drowning in fire, the next I was surrounded by wedding gowns.. In the mirror, my twenty-two-year-old self stared back.. The man I would marry tomorrow would, in three years, conspire with my best friend to burn me alive. They would steal my legacy and hound my mother to her death. The wedding dress was so white. A pity it would soon be stained with my blood. I picked up scissors and cut from the neckline to the hem. Fragments scattered all over the floor. Ethan Chapman, Claire Sullivan. This time it’s your turn to go to hell. My phone rang. It was Ethan. “Serena, tomorrow you’ll officially be my wife. Are you nervous?” I kept cutting the wedding dress. “Nervous,” I said. “Nervous about how to make your death look good.” He laughed on the other end. “There you go again. Get some sleep. I’ll come pick you up tomorrow.” The call ended. I looked at the mirror. At thirty, I had fine lines around my eyes. Now this face was smooth and full. So young. Young enough to still believe in love. The door opened. Claire walked in wearing a nightgown, holding a glass of milk. “Serena, have some milk to help you sleep.” She placed the glass on the vanity, her eyes drifting to the jewelry box beside it. “Are you wearing this pearl set tomorrow? It’s beautiful.” In my previous life, she had asked the same thing. I told her if she liked it, she could borrow it. She took it and never returned it. Later I learned that on that day, she wore my pearl necklace while fooling around with Ethan in the lounge before the wedding. “No.” I closed the jewelry box. “My mother gave it to me. I don’t lend it out.” Claire’s smile stiffened. “Why are we drawing such lines?” She reached out to pull me. “Starting tomorrow, we’ll be family.” I dodged. “Claire.” I looked into her eyes. “Ethan came to see you last night, didn’t he? At 2 a.m., downstairs at your place, right?” Her face turned pale instantly. “You-how did you…” “The second button on his shirt was missing.” I said,”Your stitching is very distinctive. I recognize it.” The air froze for a few seconds. Claire backed up and bumped into the vanity. The milk glass tipped over, white liquid spreading across the wedding dress fragments. “Serena, let me explain…” “No need to explain.” I crouched down and picked up the largest piece of the wedding dress. “The wedding tomorrow isn’t happening anyway.” She ran. I sat back down in front of the mirror and opened my phone’s photo album. The photos were taken by someone I hired the day before yesterday. Ethan and Claire kissing in a car. Very clear. Clear enough for both families to see. At 3 AM, I called the wedding company. “Mr. Lee, I’m changing the video for tomorrow’s screen. I’m sending you the new one now.” “Miss Williams, it’s so late…” “I’ll triple the payment.” “I’ll handle it right away!” After hanging up, I called my mother’s attending physician. “Dr. Walker, please stay with my mother at the wedding tomorrow. She has a bad heart and may need emergency care at any moment.” “Don’t worry, Miss Williams. I’ll be there the entire time.” After finishing these tasks, dawn was breaking. I looked at the pale light outside the window and remembered the day I died in my previous life. It was also dawn. Ethan poured gasoline on me while Claire held a lighter. They said, Serena, go die. The instant the flames licked my skin, I thought of my mother. She lay in the hospital after a stroke, not yet knowing her daughter was dead. I wiped away tears with a piece of the wedding dress. I couldn’t cry. Not this time. At six, the makeup artist arrived. She saw the fragments everywhere and screamed. “Miss Williams! The-the wedding dress…” “Get another one.” I said, “Any style. Something simple.” The makeup artist applied my makeup trembling. At seven-thirty, Ethan called again. “Serena, I’m on my way. Wait for me.” “Okay.” I said, “I’ll wait for you.” Wait for your complete ruin.

Serena’s POV The wedding venue. The banquet hall for five hundred people was full. Relatives and friends from both sides, business partners, media reporters. Ethan’s family ran a building materials business and wanted to use this wedding to build their reputation. I walked into the hall on my father’s arm. Ethan stood at the end of the red carpet, suit impeccable, smile gentle. In my previous life, I was deceived by this smile, thinking he was the right person. When I reached him, my father placed my hand in his. Ethan squeezed tight. “Serena, you look beautiful today.” He said in a low voice. The officiant began reciting his lines, asking those old clichéd questions. Ethan looked at me, his eyes shining. Such good acting. My turn came. The officiant said, “Miss Serena Williams, do you take Mr. Ethan Chapman to be your husband?” The entire hall fell silent. Everyone looked at me. I took the microphone, my fingers ice-cold. “Before I answer,” I said, “I’d like everyone to watch a video.” Ethan froze. So did the officiant. The backstage staff, following my instructions from last night, cut the music and turned on the big screen. The first photo appeared. In a car, Ethan and Claire were kissing. The timestamp read three days ago. The entire hall erupted. “What-what is this?” Ethan’s father stood up. The second photo. A hotel corridor, Ethan with his arm around Claire’s waist entering a room. The third photo. Morning, Claire coming out of the same room, wearing my pearl necklace around her neck. My mother in the audience clutched her chest. Dr. Walker immediately stepped forward, and the two bodyguards I had arranged also moved behind her. “Serena, these are AI-generated! Someone is trying to frame me!” Ethan tried to grab the microphone. I dodged. And clicked on the last photo. It was from last night, a recording from Claire in my room. “Ethan said once we get Serena’s money, he’ll dump her… Her mother’s health is so bad, just upset her a bit and she’ll die, then the inheritance will all be ours…” Claire’s voice in the recording was clear and piercing. The entire hall fell deathly silent. Ethan’s face went from red to white to blue. He looked at me like I was a stranger. “You-you bugged me…” “What else?” I returned the microphone to the officiant. “Wait for you to burn me alive?” Ethan looked like he’d been struck by lightning, stumbling back two steps. I turned to face the guests. “The wedding is canceled. Sorry for the spectacle.” After speaking, I walked off the stage. Ethan tried to grab me but was blocked by the bodyguards. His father was cursing him, his mother was crying. Claire had slipped away at some point, her seat empty. When I reached the door, I looked back. Ethan still stood on stage like a ridiculous statue. Guests were whispering to each other, some holding up phones to record. Getting into the car, the driver asked where to go. “Home,” I said. “My parents’ home.” The car drove away. I leaned my head against the window, finally starting to tremble. Not from fear, but excitement. So this is what revenge felt like-like liquor burning down my throat. My phone vibrated. I answered. “Serena.” It was Adrian’s voice, the only person who had helped me in my previous life. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine.” I took a deep breath. “This is just the beginning.”

Serena’s POV My mother lay in her bedroom on oxygen. Her face was pale. “Serena, those photos… are they real?” “Real.” I sat by the bed, holding her hand. “Mom, I’m sorry. I kept it from you for so long.” Tears fell from her eyes. “That boy… he seemed so honest…” “Appearances don’t represent a person’s character.” My father stood in the doorway smoking, ash falling to the floor. “Good thing Serena found out early.” The doorbell rang. Our housekeeper went to answer it and soon ran back in a panic. “It’s Ethan… holding a huge bouquet, kneeling at the door!” My father started to go drive him away, but I stopped him. “I’ll go.” At the door, Ethan really was kneeling there, holding ninety-nine red roses. His hair was messy, his tie crooked, his eyes bloodshot. “Serena.” His voice was hoarse. “Let me explain.” “Explain what?” I leaned against the doorframe. “Explain how you and Claire planned to kill me?” His whole body trembled. “I didn’t! Those recordings were fabricated! That bitch Claire is framing me!” “Oh?” I smiled. “What about the photos? Fabricated too?” He couldn’t answer. His lips trembled. “Serena, I was wrong. I was really wrong.” He held up the flowers. “Give me one more chance. I love you, I only love you…” I took the flowers. His eyes brightened for a moment. Then I threw the entire bouquet on the ground. My high heels stepped on them, crushing those delicate petals. “Are you worthy?” That sentence made him collapse to the ground. Some neighbors were peeking from behind their windows. I raised my voice. “Ethan, return the three million your mother borrowed from my mother by tomorrow. Otherwise, see you in court.” “Three million? That-that was an investment…” “Investment?” I crouched down to meet his eyes. “Investment in that shell project at your father’s company? I’ve checked the books. The money went into your personal account.” His pupils contracted sharply. “How did you…” “How did I know?” I stood up, looking down at him. “Because I’m not the Serena I used to be. Get lost. If I see you again, I’ll report you for harassment.” Security came. Two burly men dragged Ethan away. He kept calling my name, each cry more pitiful than the last, like a stray dog. I closed the door. My father applauded behind me. “Well done.” He said,”Now that’s my daughter.” My mother came out of the bedroom, eyes still red but smiling. “Serena has grown up.” My phone vibrated again. This time it was Claire. I answered and put it on speaker. “Serena, I had no choice! Ethan threatened me! He said he’d expose my past if I didn’t help him-” “Your past what?” I cut in. “The time you stole your roommate’s wallet in college? Or when you cooked the books at your last job?” Silent. “You…you looked into me?” “A passing glance,” I said. “By the way, isn’t your mother’s birthday coming up? I’ve prepared a big gift. Remember to check it.” I hung up and messaged my private investigator. “You can proceed. Send the stuff to her house.” Claire’s biggest weakness was her parents. They cared most about face. I was curious what their reaction would be if they knew their daughter stole, was a mistress, and wanted to kill someone. So looking forward to it.

Serena’s POV Claire came the next afternoon. Her eyes were swollen like walnuts. As soon as she entered, she tried to kneel. “Serena, I was wrong… I really know I was wrong…” I sat on the sofa drinking tea, not letting her sit. “What were you wrong about?” “I shouldn’t have been with Ethan… shouldn’t have been greedy for his family’s money…” She cried, face covered in tears. “But I really didn’t want to hurt you. Those words were all forced by him…” “Really?” I put down my teacup. “So when you stole my mother’s jewelry, was that forced by him too?” She froze. The day before yesterday she came to my house to “apologize” and snuck into my mother’s room when I wasn’t paying attention. She thought I didn’t know. But there were cameras in every corner. “What… jewelry… I don’t know…” I opened my phone and played a video. In the footage, Claire tiptoed to open the jewelry box and stuffed the jade bracelet and diamond necklace into her bag. Smooth movements. Clearly not the first time. “This is theft.” I said, “The amount exceeds five hundred thousand. That’s ten years or more.” Her legs gave out and she really did kneel. “Serena! Please! I’ll return it! I’ll return it right away!” “Already returned,” I smiled. “I sent the video to your father. He just called, said the items have been returned. Also, he told you to get out of the house and never come back.” Claire’s face lost all color. Her father was a university professor who valued reputation above all. In my previous life, Claire married a rich second-generation, and her father bragged about it everywhere. Now? His daughter was a thief, a mistress, an accomplice to murder for money. “Serena… do you have to be so heartless…” “Heartless?” I stood up and walked to her. “Compared to what you planned to do to me, this is heartless?” She looked up at me, her expression changing from pleading to resentment. “You will pay for this.” “I’ve already paid.” I said, “Now it’s your turn.” Claire was dragged out. She cursed me, damned me, her voice shrill like a ghost. Didn’t matter. I’d been a ghost before. Why would I fear the living? My phone rang. A text from the bank. Ethan’s family had returned the three million, with an attached message. “Serena, the money’s returned. Can we meet?” I replied, “We can meet. Bring evidence of your embezzlement. See you in court.” No response after that. In the evening, Adrian came. He brought a fruit basket, saying he was visiting my mother on behalf of his mother. “How is your mother doing?” I invited him in. “She’s okay. Just hearing about your situation made her blood pressure spike.” He looked at me. “Are you okay?” “Do I look like I’m not?” He shook his head. “No. You look like you’re going to war.” We both laughed. That was Adrian-didn’t say much, but always hit the mark. In my previous life, to help me investigate Ethan’s accounts, Adrian was beaten by people Ethan hired. Two broken ribs. I visited him in the hospital. He said it was nothing, just take care of yourself. “Adrian,” I said. “Thank you.” “I haven’t helped yet. What are you thanking me for?” “Thanking you for helping me in my previous life.” Only after the words left my mouth did I realize something was wrong. But he wasn’t surprised, just looked at me deeply. “If there really was a previous life,” he said, “then I’ll help you in this life too.”

Serena’s POV Ethan started desperately trying to win me back. Sending gifts to my company every day. Hermès bags, Cartier watches, Tiffany necklaces. Gift boxes piled up at the reception desk. The secretary asked how to handle them. “Donate them.” I said, “Donate them to a girls’ education fund under ‘anonymous benefactor.’” “Should we… get a receipt?” “Yes, with Ethan’s name and company address.” The secretary went out holding back laughter. That afternoon, the local evening paper’s society section ran a thank-you letter. “Thanks to anonymous Mr. Chapman for donating luxury goods worth two million dollars to help one thousand girls return to school…” The accompanying photo showed the mountain of gift boxes. The reporter photographed it well-it came across as satirical. Ethan’s call came immediately. “Serena! What do you mean!” “Helping you do charity.” I said while flipping through files. “What, you’re unwilling?” “Those were for you!” “Once you gave them to me, they’re mine. Do I need your permission on what I do with them?” He was breathing heavily on the other end. I could imagine his face red and neck thick. “Serena, don’t go too far! If you push me, it won’t be good for you.” “Great.” I laughed. “I’m waiting.” The call was slammed down. The next day, an even bigger gift box arrived. This time it was a complete ruby jewelry set. The certificate read: Burmese pigeon blood red, total weight fifty-eight carats. The secretary’s eyes went wide. “Miss Williams, this… donate this too?” “Donate it,” I didn’t even look up. “Oh, contact the media. Hold a donation ceremony. Make it grand.” The ceremony was three days later. Even the TV station came. I handed the jewelry box to the foundation director. A reporter asked why I was donating such valuable items. “Making the best use of things,” I said. “Jewelry worn on a person is decoration. Converted to money to build schools, it can change many people’s destinies.” The news aired that evening. Ethan’s mother saw the program, had a heart attack from rage, and was rushed to the hospital. Ethan’s father called to curse me, saying if anything happened to his wife, he wouldn’t let it go. “I’ll pay the medical bills,” I said. “Consider it atonement for Ethan.” His father roared over the phone. After hanging up, Adrian messaged me. “You’re playing too big. Be careful they retaliate.” I replied, “Let them try. I’m waiting.” A week later, Ethan was suspended from his company pending investigation. Someone anonymously reported his embezzlement with solid evidence, even forged contract copies sent to the board of directors. He blocked me downstairs at my company. “You did this.” “Evidence?” I crossed my arms looking at him. He had lost weight, eyes sunken, unshaven. The elegant man from before was gone, only wretchedness remained. “Serena, how did I wrong you? Just because I slept with Claire? What man doesn’t cheat?” “Cheat?” I laughed out loud. “Ethan, do you still think I’m only doing this because you cheated?” He froze. “Then-then what else could it be…” I leaned close to him, speaking in a voice only we could hear. “Because you wanted to burn me alive.” He backed away like he’d seen a ghost, hitting the wall. “You-you’re lying.” “Last September. Twenty liters of gasoline. Paid in cash at the pump. The station still has the footage.” I let the words hang. “Shall I have it pulled up for you?” His mouth opened, but no sound came out. “Then there are your messages with Claire. ‘Once Serena’s dead.’ ‘The inheritance, ours.’ ‘Her mother won’t last long.’” I continued. “Would you like me to go on?” Ethan collapsed to the ground. Eyes bulging like they might pop out. “Impossible… you couldn’t possibly know…” “I know more than you imagine.” I turned to leave. “Ethan, this is nothing. Wait. The good show is still coming.” Getting in the car, I watched him in the rearview mirror. He still sat on the ground like a puddle of mud. My phone vibrated. Adrian sent a photo. It was Claire, getting drunk at a cheap bar, being held around the waist by a man. Caption: “She’s trying to get your father’s company’s business secrets. Be careful.” I replied, “Let her look. I’ve dug a pit waiting for her.”

Serena’s POV My father had me join the company to learn. Starting as assistant to the general manager. Every day following him to meetings, seeing clients, reviewing reports. In my previous life, I had no interest in business and left everything to Ethan. He ended up hollowing out the company and left my father in debt. The finance department submitted a report. I spent an afternoon on it, circling over a dozen issues in red pen. “Dad, the cash flow for these projects is wrong.” I pushed the report over. “Officially, it’s for raw material procurement. But the funds were routed through three shell companies. All registered to individuals named Chapman.” My father put on his reading glasses. His expression grew stormier with each line. “These… these were all Ethan’s projects.” “Not just those.” I opened my laptop and called up another file. “Of the seventeen projects he managed from last year to this year, twelve show irregularities. The total discrepancy… is around eighty million.” The office fell into a deep, heavy silence. My father took off his glasses, rubbing his temples. In my previous life, these bad debts gave him a cerebral hemorrhage. He was paralyzed for two years, and finally, hearing on his deathbed that I had died, he passed away. “Call the police,” he said. “Call the police immediately.” “Wait.” I pressed his hand. “If we call the police now, we can’t get the money back. Give me a month. I’ll get the money back, then send him in.” My father looked at me with a complex expression. “Serena, when did you… learn all this?” “Was forced to.” I smiled. “Dad, don’t worry. This time I won’t let anyone bully our family.” I started investigating those three shell companies. The legal representatives were Ethan’s distant relatives, but he was the actual controller. Money left the company accounts, circled through the shell companies a few times, and ended up in his overseas account. Very old-fashioned tactics, but in my previous life I was too stupid to see it. Adrian came to find me with a stack of materials. “Bank statements for these three companies.” He handed me a USB drive. “Got it through a friend at the bank. Complete chain of evidence.” I plugged in the USB and opened the files. Dense transfer records, one by one, shocking to see. “Adrian,” I looked up at him. “Why are you helping me so much?” He was silent for a while. “If I said I dreamed you died, would you believe me?” My fingers trembled. “What dream?” “A long dream.” His voice was low. “In the dream you married Ethan and had a terrible life. In the end… you died in a fire. I wanted to save you, but it was too late.” I looked at him. His eyes were very clean, very serious. “What happened next?” “Then I woke up. Found you hadn’t married yet.” He smiled slightly. “I thought, this time I can’t let you walk that path again.” I couldn’t speak. My throat tightened. “So.” He pointed at the USB. “Use these. Send him to prison.” Three days later, the board held an emergency meeting. As assistant to the general manager, I attended. Ethan came too, sitting next to his father, looking terrible. My father projected the report on the big screen. “Everyone, this is the financial audit report for projects Manager Ethan Chapman handled over the past two years. I’ve marked the problematic areas in red.” The conference room erupted. Ethan stood up. “Mr. Williams, this is slander! I demand a re-audit!” “Fine.” I stood up and walked to the projector. “But before the re-audit, let’s look at this first.” I inserted the USB drive Adrian gave me. Overseas bank records. Shell company registrations. Contracts Ethan had forged. Page after page of irrefutable proof. Ethan’s father collapsed on the spot. The conference room erupted. Ethan’s finger trembled as he pointed at me. “Serena… you’re vicious.” “Not compared to you.” I turned off the projector. “Call the police.” They came and led him away. He looked back once, his eyes like poisoned glass. I simply smiled and gave a small wave. Goodbye. And good riddance.

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I married Gabriel Knight without revealing my wealth. The day before our wedding, I was in a car accident. When I woke up, I was blind. In the darkness, I heard Gabriel talking with his assistant. The assistant said, “Sir, it’s handled. The driver and the doctor won’t talk. It’s just…Miss Harper loved painting. Now that we’ve taken her corneas, she’ll never see again. What if she can’t accept it?” “Nora is strong,” Gabriel replied. “Not like Lily. Lily wouldn’t survive without her sight. I’ll take care of Nora for the rest of her life. That’s compensation enough.” He paused, then went on. “Tell the doctor to remove her uterus while he’s at it. If Lily ever saw me with her child, it would break her.” “Sir…isn’t that too cruel? Miss Harper has been with you since she was eighteen-” Gabriel cut him off. “Do as I say. No more questions.” My body turned to ice. I began to shake, uncontrollably. The man I’d loved unconditionally had fallen for Lily Carter, the scholarship student I’d been sponsoring. He was ready to strip me of everything, piece by piece, just for her.

Footsteps echoed in the hospital room. I forced my breathing to stay even, feigning unconsciousness. “Mr. Knight, Miss Harper has just undergone corneal donation. Her system is severely compromised. Performing a hysterectomy now…it could be fatal. Perhaps we should wait-” “I’m paying you to follow orders, not give suggestions. This is a command, not a discussion. But if anything happens to Nora, you know the consequences.” “Yes, Mr. Knight.”The doctor’s reply was a nervous stammer. A man’s fingers, burning hot, touched my cheek. Gabriel’s voice was hoarse yet tender. “Nora, it’ll all be over soon. Don’t worry, I’ll always be by your side. I love you, Nora.” My body trembled slightly, beyond my control. Something cool touched my cheek. Gabriel seemed to stand up. Sensing I was about to wake up, Gabriel ordered coldly, “Doctor, prepare for surgery immediately. Finish before she wakes up.” I opened my eyes in fear, but I couldn’t see anything. Only darkness. Tears fell involuntarily. I reached out, grasping frantically at the air. “Why… why can’t I see?” “Don’t be afraid, Nora. I’m here. I’ve always been here.” Gabriel held me tightly in his arms. His warm hands stroked my hair, his deep voice seemingly full of heartache. “You were in a car accident… The doctor said your blindness is only temporary. Nora, I’ll take good care of you…” The man seemed to nod, then continued, “Your body hasn’t fully recovered. You can’t get too emotional. Let the doctor give you a nutrition shot.” If I hadn’t woken up early and heard his conversation with the doctor, I would have believed every word he said. But now I knew that the so-called nutrition shot was anesthesia to keep me unconscious. I grabbed the man’s arm tightly, shaking my head desperately, my voice choking. “No… Gabriel, I don’t want a shot… I want to go home. Can we go home…” Before I could finish, a cold needle pierced my skin. Before my consciousness faded completely, I heard Gabriel’s tender voice, as always. “Be good. Sleep, and it’ll be over. With me here, you’ll be fine.” Tears fell silently from my eyes down my cheeks. Though my body was anesthetized, my heart kept aching. I closed my eyes in despair. In the darkness, I seemed to see eighteen-year-old Gabriel crying at my bedside with red eyes, calling me an idiot for blocking that knife for him. The young man’s immature but firm voice echoed in my mind. “Nora, I swear I’ll never let anyone hurt you again in this lifetime.” But the one who hurt me most, who wanted my life, was him. When I woke again, I had not only lost my eyes and my lover, but I would never have children of my own. I opened my eyes. The hospital room was so quiet I could only hear my weak breathing. Soon, a man and woman’s argument drifted faintly to me. “Nora was in an accident. I have to take care of her. Nora has been so good to me. Without her, I’d still be in the slums. I have to repay her for the rest of my life. Don’t stop me…” It was Lily Carter, the scholarship student I’d been sponsoring. Gabriel, who never allowed anyone to defy him, showed no displeasure in his voice. “Lily, your eyes just recovered. The doctor said you can’t move around yet. You need more rest. Someone will take care of Nora. You don’t need to worry.” My hands involuntarily gripped the blanket tighter. When did Lily lose her sight? Why didn’t I know?

A sharp pain suddenly shot through the back of my hand as a thin needle quickly pierced my skin. The nurse’s voice was sharp with impatience.”Stop!” She even pressed down harder, a deliberate warning. “What rotten luck. They get to tend to Mr. Knight’s wife, and I’m stuck with a blind nobody.” “If only she’d put in a good word for me with Mr. Knight, I wouldn’t have to look at pathetic patients like you ever again…” The sound of a glass vial shattering on the tile floor cut her off. “Who’s there? Oh, Mr. Knight, what are you-” Her voice shifted from irritation to a tremor of fear. Gabriel’s voice, cold with fury, filled the room. It chilled me to the bone. “Fuck off. Don’t let me see you again.” A warm, familiar warmth enveloped me. The man’s body seemed to tremble slightly, his voice filled with guilt. “I’m sorry, Nora. I came too late and let you suffer. I’m sorry…” A bitter smile tugged at my lips. Compared to having my corneas and uterus removed, this grievance was nothing. But he seemed extremely remorseful, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. “I don’t want to stay in the hospital. I want to go home.” The man’s warm breath blew on my neck. “After the doctor checks you over, I’ll take you home.” He didn’t know that the home I meant wasn’t his villa, but the prestigious Harper family estate far away in the capital. Years ago, when there was turmoil within the Harper family, my father hid me in Chicago to avoid danger, but someone still found out. When I was cornered in an alley, Gabriel appeared and took a fatal knife wound for me. That moment, love at first sight became real for me. Later we attended the same university and started dating, spending every day together. Everyone around us envied our relationship. That’s when Lily appeared too. I pitied her for eating only bread for every meal, sympathized with her talent, so I sponsored her. Lily was deeply grateful to me, and we became inseparable best friends. I just didn’t know when she and Gabriel ended up in the same bed, or when Gabriel fell in love with her. Gabriel tucked the hair by my ear, his voice more tender than ever before. “Nora, let’s have the wedding tomorrow as planned, okay? I really want to marry you soon and make you Mrs. Knight.” The wedding I once dreamed of now seemed like a nightmare. I shook my head gently. “No.” Gabriel didn’t expect me to refuse. He released me and explained with rare patience, “I know you’re scared. Don’t worry, I’ll arrange everything properly. I guarantee no one will dare gossip about you. Lily will be your bridesmaid to help you.” “Our officiant will be Damien Harper, head of the capital’s Harper family. I promised you the grandest wedding.” At my brother’s name, my fingers tightened around the man’s sleeve. The Harpers didn’t know I was in Chicago. They certainly didn’t know Gabriel Knight’s fiancée was me. Years ago, I’d refused a marriage contract to a billionaire’s son. I left home in a rage and never looked back. A sick, hollow feeling swelled in my chest. I couldn’t bear to picture Damien’s face if he saw me like this. My arm suddenly felt heavy, accompanied by a clear, anxious female voice. “Nora, I was so worried. From now on, I’ll be your eyes. I’ll take care of you… always.”

Gabriel interrupted her, a barely detectable guilt in his voice. “Don’t talk nonsense. Nora’s blindness is only temporary.” Lily understood immediately, resting her head on my shoulder with a sweet voice. “Right, I misspoke. Maybe tomorrow Nora’s eyes will be better, and then she can wear her wedding dress and beautifully marry Mr. Knight as his wife. Nora, I’m so happy for you.” It was this innocent, harmless appearance that had fooled me. The assistant brought the wedding dress. Only Lily and I remained in the room. “Nora, I heard you designed this wedding dress yourself? It’s so beautiful, but the size is too big for me.” The sound of fabric tearing was particularly jarring in the quiet hospital room. I knew she had ruined my wedding dress. “A blind woman has no use for such a beautiful wedding dress. That hospital gown suits you much better.” Splash! A searing pain shot through my eye sockets, like they were being burned by fire. The pain left me speechless, my hands trembling as I tried to wipe the liquid from my eyes with my sleeve. Lily gripped my wrists tightly. Her voice, full of venom, came to my ear. “Nora Harper, you’re not blind because of a car accident. I never imagined that with just one casual remark, Gabriel would take your corneas for me. But I didn’t even need them. I find them dirty.” “If you know what’s good for you, leave on your own. Otherwise, do you think one word from me could make him take your life?” The acidic liquid corroded my eyes, but it couldn’t compare to even one ten-thousandth of my heartache. Hearing the sound of dress shoes approaching, Lily roughly wiped the liquid from my eyes. She lifted my hand high. Smack! A burning pain spread across my palm. Before I could react, a powerful force shoved me away. My head slammed hard against the wall behind me, leaving my ears ringing. “Nora Harper! You’re blind, not crazy. Why did you attack Lily? Her body is very weak right now!” Though I couldn’t see Gabriel’s expression, his furious voice told me he’d lost control. In all these years, this was the first time he’d been this angry. Gabriel’s voice, full of hostility, came from above my head. “Apologize to Lily! Or tomorrow’s wedding is canceled!” He knew how much I longed for this wedding. My greatest wish these years had been to wear a wedding dress and marry him. Just as he predicted, I lowered my head like I’d done something wrong, the liquid remaining in my eyes stinging painfully. The pain made my voice tremble slightly. “I’m sorry, Lily.” The man’s cold voice came from the doorway. “I’ll send someone to pick you up at eight tomorrow morning.” Gabriel didn’t know that tomorrow’s wedding, to me, was an escape. It was the day I would leave him completely.

Early the next morning, the assistant came to take me to the wedding car. Just as Lily had said, I arrived at the wedding venue wearing my hospital gown. Lily’s dress hem brushed my exposed ankles. She placed the veil over my head and laughed. “Happy wedding, Nora. Did you think putting on a veil makes you a bride? It’s just to cover your blind eyes so you don’t embarrass everyone.” Unable to see the despair she wanted on my face, Lily was about to lash out. Gabriel’s displeased voice suddenly rang in my ear. “Where’s the wedding dress I prepared for you? Nora Harper, are you deliberately getting back at me? You’re getting married to me looking like this?” The assistant helped me walk toward the dressing room. I was about to take off my hospital gown when a man’s excited voice suddenly came from behind me. “A blind woman, but damn good-looking. Be good and don’t scream. I’ll take real good care of you.” The man’s hands began roughly tearing at my clothes. I used all my strength but couldn’t push him away. I opened my mouth and bit down hard on him. “You bitch, you’re asking for it!” The enraged man threw me to the ground, his heavy breathing spraying on my neck. My clothes had just been violently torn open when a sharp, surprised female voice came from the doorway. “Nora! How could you do this at your wedding with Mr. Knight? How can you face him…” The man in front of me stopped, breathing heavily and speaking brazenly. “This slut threw herself at me. I wouldn’t even want a blind woman.” As soon as he finished speaking, countless accusatory voices surrounded me. Those vicious voices were like venomous snakes attacking me. “I never imagined Mr. Knight’s fiancée was actually blind!” “No wonder she’s blind. She’d rather have an affair than Mr. Knight.” “What a shameless whore!” I frantically clutched my torn clothes, burying my head in my knees, trembling violently. Suddenly, the air grew quiet except for heavy footsteps. “Nora Harper, you dare betray me!” Someone grabbed my neck viciously. Gabriel’s eyes were bloodshot, veins bulging in his hands. I used all my strength to force out a few words with difficulty. “I… didn’t…” The suffocating feeling gradually surrounded me. Gabriel suddenly released his grip, instead grabbing my chin tightly. “Nora Harper, after all these years together, you should know I hate betrayal most. You must have lost your mind to be with a man like that. In that case, you don’t need to attend today’s wedding.” “Someone, send her to a psychiatric hospital!” As hands grabbed me, my heart plunged. If they committed me to a psychiatric ward like this, I’d never make it back to the Harpers. The thought sent a surge of panic through me. I fought wildly, wrenching myself free, and ran. “Catch her!” Gabriel’s furious shout chased me, followed by a rush of footsteps. My heart hammered against my ribs. Ahead was only darkness, a void I couldn’t see. But I didn’t dare slow down. My only chance was to run, blindly and desperately. Then I collided with a solid, warm chest. A familiar, strained voice came from above me. “Nora!”

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When I discovered my wife Serena was cheating, I wasn’t even surprised. What stunned me was the man: her uncle, Derek. I finished my cigarette, my voice flat. “Why not just divorce? Then the two of you can be together properly.” Her eyes flooded instantly. She dropped to her knees, swearing she’d never see him again. I believed her. I decided to give her another chance. Then came her grandfather’s birthday party. Derek walked in, holding a child. “Serena, can you really leave us behind?” Her eyes welled up, her face a war of anguish and indecision. I smiled, and carefully, one by one, I peeled her fingers from mine. “Go ahead. No one’s stopping you from being both his niece and the mother of his child.” “Tristan, the baby’s crying is breaking my heart. I have to see to him. We can talk about us later.” Without waiting for my answer, Serena walked across the room toward the father and son in front of everyone. Derek even pinched the child discreetly, making him wail louder. Seeing my expression darken, Serena’s father, Richard, rushed to intervene. “Serena’s always had a soft heart. She can’t bear to hear a child cry…” Her mother, Emma, forced a smile and added, “It’s true, Tristan. Please don’t be upset with her.” At that moment, my sister Allison let out a cold laugh and raised her voice. “Do you all take my brother for a fool?” She shot them a sharp look, then turned to me. “Tristan, the Sterlings are the wealthiest family in this city. We don’t get treated this way. We don’t leave with our tails between our legs. Let’s go.” As we left, whispers trailed us from every side. “So what if Tristan Sterling is the richest man? He’s still a cuckold. No wonder Serena disappeared for a year, off having another man’s baby…” “A real mafia princess, playing with fire. This marriage alliance between the Sterling and Turner families…” I felt dazed. This was the Serena who had once sworn she would only marry me, who had begged to follow me abroad. Who had suddenly said she was too homesick to leave. I should have seen it then. My childhood friend just laughed and said, “You know how girls are. They can’t stand being away from home…” But this was Serena. Like me, she’d been raised from childhood to be an heir. Raised by butlers and nannies, she’d traveled the world by the age of five to broaden her horizons. Someone like that couldn’t be homesick. Before we registered our marriage, we’d aligned our goals. I would lead the Sterling Corporation internationally while she would help the Turner family transition from their shady past to legitimate business. With both families’ approval, we registered our marriage. We planned to hold the ceremony after New Year’s. The night before I was supposed to leave the country, she sat on my waist and pouted. “Give me a year. Once I’ve laid the groundwork, I’ll come find you abroad, okay?” Though I didn’t like the idea, I agreed and went abroad alone. When my parents asked why we hadn’t started trying for a baby since we were married, I made excuses. I thought she was still young-waiting a couple more years to have children wouldn’t hurt. I never imagined that my indulgence would allow her to have a child with someone else first.

Seeing the Sterling family truly angered, Richard chased us to the door with an apologetic expression. “Tristan, I’ve spoiled Serena. Please give her one more chance.” “We never imagined she’d be with her uncle… Don’t worry, we’ll talk sense into her. She’ll definitely come around…” I laughed bitterly. “Don’t blame yourself. At least it keeps the wealth in the family.” “After all, he’s not her real uncle.” My sarcastic words made Richard’s expression darken completely. But given the circumstances, he didn’t dare show his anger openly. He just kept smiling and lowered his voice. “Tristan, I’ll give you ten billion. Just acknowledge the child as yours.” “We can still be one big happy family…” I looked down at him and smirked. “The Sterling family doesn’t need money.” Emma tried to say more, but Allison stopped her. “The Turner family’s dirty laundry is none of the Sterling family’s business. Tomorrow at 9 AM, Tristan will be waiting for her at the courthouse.” The couple looked both panicked and embarrassed. They tried to plead more, but our car sped away, spraying exhaust in their faces. The next day, I waited at the civil affairs bureau all morning. Serena never showed up. Finally, a video from my friend arrived. In the footage, Serena, dressed formally, held hands with Derek, who was holding the child. They sat side by side like newlyweds, fielding questions from reporters. “Derek and I share no blood,” she said. “He’s the man I truly love. I chose to have his child.” That statement sent the reporters into a frenzy. The wealthy always had secrets and scandals. They wracked their brains, desperate to dig up every detail. “Serena, what is your relationship with Mr. Sterling then?” one shouted. “So Mr. Derek really is the other man?” Hesitation flickered in her eyes. But the words that came out were: “Love doesn’t care who came first. The one who isn’t loved is the real outsider.” As if afraid the reporters would miss the point, she emphasized again. “Derek is my lover, the father of my child.” My grip on the screen turned my knuckles white. After last night’s scene, Derek’s reputation was already terrible. To whitewash him, Serena actually held a public press conference. Grinding my face and the Sterling family’s reputation into the dirt. She all but called me the other man. Yet I was the one who legally married her. Allison, ever protective, couldn’t stand for it. She immediately drove over and asked a question on the spot. “Are you two legally married?” Derek’s face went deathly pale. All the reporters’ cameras immediately focused on his face, waiting for an answer. My sister, secretly pleased, continued her mockery. “Although you and Serena aren’t blood-related, you are still uncle and niece. For your selfish desires, do you disregard even basic ethics?” She paused, and after successfully seeing their faces turn ashen, she dropped the bombshell. “Do you know Serena is a married woman? Does making her play both niece and mother give you a special sense of achievement?” Her two consecutive statements dropped like bombs at the scene. The reporters’ eyes widened as they surged toward the pair. “Is what Miss Sterling said true? Are you really legally married?” As the reporters were about to lose control, Serena screamed and threw herself in front of Derek. Her face twisted with malice. “Words mean nothing-what she’s saying is nothing but slander!” Then she glared viciously at the camera, sending me a message. “Tristan, you hide in the back and let your sister stir up trouble. What kind of man does that?” “Yes! We registered our marriage, but it was our parents’ idea. What’s wrong with me refusing to stick with a cold marriage arrangement to pursue real love?” “Even if you’re the richest man in the world, even if you’re worth billions, you can’t buy my love.” She crossed her arms with an air of complete confidence. Several reporters couldn’t help but applaud, giving her multiple close-ups. But I just mocked myself inwardly. See? What you thought was mutual love was just “our parents’ idea” to her. She’d calculated that I’d spare her out of sentimentality. I called Allison and put her on speaker. “Serena, you had an affair with your uncle. You bore his child while living off the Sterling family’s resources. That child was even born in our hospital.” “You cheated. You lied. And now you dare to call it love? It’s repulsive.”

Serena fell completely silent, just pouting pitifully. Derek couldn’t stand watching and finally spoke up. “We were wrong to hide it from you, but Serena felt sorry for you. After all, you two were together so long with no results…” “She even thought that if you really couldn’t, she’d let you claim the child as yours! He could even be the Sterling family heir!” I was so angry I laughed. With a flip of his tongue, he not only falsely accused me of being impotent but also wanted to devour my family’s fortune. All my past care and indulgence toward her had now become the foundation for her to slander my dignity and covet the Sterling family assets. These two were perfect for each other. Birds of a feather. My sister’s temper flared, and she immediately shot back. “No amount of whitewashing can wash away your incestuous affair.” That statement set the scene boiling again. I closed my phone and half-closed my eyes. Actually, when Derek first returned to the country, Serena had been particularly clingy with him. I was somewhat surprised and asked about it once. She immediately frowned. “Derek came back to help me manage the Turner family business. What, the Sterling family siblings can work together, but we can’t?” Hearing that, I felt a bit uncomfortable but didn’t press further. She and I were both strong-willed people who didn’t like me interfering in her affairs. So I didn’t think much of it at the time. Looking back now, all my business acumen was wasted on my career. In matters of the heart, I was utterly stupid. The press conference publicly humiliated the uncle-niece pair, and outside gossip grew increasingly vicious. I ignored it all and focused on business. Until the doorbell of my villa rang. A dog’s corpse was dragged inside. I immediately recognized it as the little yellow dog I used to keep. Because Serena loved it, I’d given it to her as a birthday present. Every time I visited the Turner home, it would jump up to greet me, nuzzling its head into my palm until it was satisfied. Now it had been skinned into a bloody mess. I clenched my fists, my teeth grinding audibly. Almost simultaneously, Serena’s call came through. “Tristan Sterling, satisfied with my gift? This is what you get for hurting Derek yesterday.” I withdrew my gaze from the little yellow dog’s body and laughed coldly. “Have you considered the consequences of doing this?” She scoffed. “So what? You may be the richest man, but the Turner family isn’t weak either. Bring it on!” Then she hung up. But she forgot one thing. The Turner family could only survive in River City because they leaned on my tree. I’d see how long they could keep this up. That evening, when I returned to the Sterling estate, Emma was waiting at the door with a fleet of cars loaded with apology gifts. “Tristan, Serena picked every one of these herself. Please accept them and forgive her.” “She’s young, she made a mistake. Let this go. We’ll raise the child as a Turner. How does that sound?” I spun the ring on my thumb, my smile growing warmer. “If your husband brought home a half-grown boy and demanded you accept him as the Turner heir…could you bear it?” Hearing that, Serena, who had been hiding in the shadows, finally broke. “Tristan Sterling!” she spat, stepping into the light. “I’m giving you a way out. Don’t push your luck.” I shrugged and smiled apologetically. “Please leave now. Outsiders cannot stay here overnight.”

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In the sixth year of our secret marriage, my wife Emma suddenly brought her ex-boyfriend Derek to work at our company. When I asked to see his resume, he mocked me in front of everyone: “You barely finished high school. Can you even read a resume in French?” Emma frowned: “Derek was right about you. You’re just jealous of his education and the fact that he dated me. You’re targeting him on purpose. You know what? You shouldn’t be CEO anymore. You can be Derek’s assistant instead.” I laughed in disbelief. Did she forget? I built this company from the ground up. Derek looked smug: “You’re nothing but a man who got ahead by riding on a woman’s coattails. You don’t deserve to be CEO.” I froze, then looked at Emma: “Is that how you introduced me to him?” Before Emma could answer, Derek continued: “Emma didn’t want to hurt your pride, for the kid’s sake, so she gave you the CEO title out of pity. You’ve been playing pretend for six years. Don’t tell me you actually think you’re competent.” Derek ran his mouth during the company meeting, completely ignoring the awkward expressions on our business partners’ faces. I stared at him coldly: “Setting aside the fact that you’re not even CEO yet—even if you were, you’d have no right to interrupt while I’m negotiating with partners!” Before I could finish, Emma cut me off sharply: “Enough! You already drove away a major partner. Isn’t that embarrassing enough? I brought Derek here to close deals with clients. Not so you could throw a jealous fit!” I wondered if I was hearing things. Was this really my wife—the understanding woman who always put the company first? Today’s meeting was crucial. It was the company’s 10th anniversary. I had personally invited our long-term partners to discuss contract renewals for next year. But Emma brought her ex-boyfriend without my permission. And she humiliated me in front of everyone. She was a capable businesswoman, sure. But she seemed to have forgotten—I was the real owner of this company.

For any publicly traded company, internal management is everything. If that falls apart, nothing else matters. The senior partner’s face turned cold, and he made an excuse to leave. Emma saw everything but still chose to side with Derek. I held back my anger. “Emma, this is a business meeting. I won’t make a scene. But forget about making Derek CEO.” The fact that I hadn’t thrown Derek out after what he pulled was already merciful. Emma stared at me without speaking. I took a deep breath and explained patiently: “That senior partner, Mr. Williams, just got back from Europe. He cares deeply about internal management. If we go explain things to him now, we can still save the partnership. If we wait until next month, our cash flow will collapse!” I thought surely Emma wouldn’t sacrifice the company’s interests. But she just laughed coldly: “Whatever deals you can’t close, Derek will handle. He and Mr. Williams were classmates abroad.” I frowned, confused. Derek smirked and pulled out his phone to call the senior partner: “Hello, Mr. Williams. This is Derek. Let me explain what just happened.” I was about to relax when Derek’s tone turned strange: “Actually, I embarrassed Lucas on purpose. I couldn’t stand watching him deceive you anymore.” “I looked at the contract you signed last year. Lucas only gave you 6% profit when he could have offered 15%. He was clearly taking advantage of you!” “Business is about mutual benefit. Lucas treated you like a fool just to make more money. That’s why I called him out in front of you.” “If you’re willing to continue our partnership, I can sign a 15% profit contract with you right now on behalf of the company.” Mr. Williams’ voice turned icy: “Are you saying Lucas cheated me?” I stared at Derek in disbelief, then grabbed Emma’s hand through clenched teeth: “Are you really going to let him keep lying?” Everyone knows that profit and net profit are different things. The 6% I offered Mr. Williams was my maximum good faith—we actually made no money on it. I did it to build goodwill for this year’s renewal. Besides, that 6% was calculated by Emma and me together. 15% doesn’t account for labor and material costs. Once you factor those in, 6% is the maximum we can offer. Anything more would be a losing deal—working for free and paying out of pocket! The company had made some money over the years, but it couldn’t sustain losses like that! Emma yanked her hand away, her voice dripping with impatience: “Do you think just because you’re a man, you know everything? Do you think I can’t run this company because I’m a woman?” I was completely baffled. What did any of this have to do with gender? But she was already lost in her own world. She grabbed Derek’s phone and declared boldly: “Mr. Williams, just as Derek promised—if you change your mind, we can sign the contract right here at this meeting and announce the renewal publicly. I’m sure the media will love to cover our powerful partnership.” I looked at Emma coldly: “You’re going to regret what you did today.” Her eyes turned sharp: “Have you forgotten your place?” “I’m the Chairman of this company. My decisions are not yours to question!”

When I founded this company, it was to give my wife and child a better life. So when Emma said she wanted to be Chairman and have me serve as CEO, I agreed. She wanted to be a powerful businesswoman, and I was willing to pave the way for her. When she used the excuse of needing someone to care for our newborn to push me behind the scenes, I pretended not to notice. Even when she told others I was just a kept man to save face, I said nothing. But my indulgence and compromises didn’t earn her understanding—only her entitlement. Derek made a snide remark: “Some people think they can climb to the top just by latching onto a rich woman. They even try to trap her with a kid. But a pretty boy is only good for mooching. He has no right to speak on real business matters.” I was still Emma’s husband. This was a business meeting. She should have defended me in front of everyone to reassure the shareholders and partners. But Emma didn’t react at all. Instead, she smiled and walked toward Mr. Williams, who had returned. Mr. Williams glanced at me with an awkward expression. Derek immediately stepped forward with a contract: “Here’s what we discussed. I printed it out ahead of time. Lucas cheated you, and I’ll have the Chairman demote him right away!” Derek bypassed Emma—the actual Chairman—to decide my fate, and she didn’t even flinch. Instead, she gazed at him adoringly: “You’re amazing. Lucas spent six months trying to close this deal and couldn’t. You did it in thirty minutes.” Watching them exchange looks like a married couple, my heart turned to ice. Derek really was impressive. It took me six years to build this company, and he was about to destroy it with one contract in under half an hour. Mr. Williams shook his head at me, disappointment written on his face: “I misjudged you.” He raised his pen and added a few words to Derek’s contract: “I’ve decided to increase this partnership to one billion dollars!” Derek was overjoyed: “The biggest deal you ever signed with Lucas was only fifty million. Now you’re adding it up to a billion!” I frowned and grabbed Emma’s arm: “With an amount this large, the contract needs to be reviewed again.” Emma shook me off: “I trust Mr. Williams, and he trusts me. Don’t think I don’t know you’re trying to sabotage this deal to force Derek out.” Mr. Williams signed with a smile, glanced at me, then strolled out. Derek smirked at me, then turned to Emma with a tender look: “I heard there’s a company tradition—whenever someone lands a big deal, even the CEO has to toast them.” “Breaking up with you back then was never my choice. I was forced to go abroad. But because of that, I became someone worthy of seeing you again. I don’t want to ruin your family, but I have one request: I want Emma to feed me the wine mouth-to-mouth. Not marrying her is my life’s greatest regret.” Emma’s eyes turned red. She was clearly moved. Everyone stared at us. The shareholders, partners, executives, and staff all wore different expressions. My fists clenched so tight they trembled. But the next second, Emma picked up a glass of wine without hesitation and walked over to Derek. She downed the wine in one gulp, then wrapped her arms around his neck. Everyone froze. Derek eagerly pushed his tongue into Emma’s mouth. They kissed passionately, the wet sounds echoing through the silent conference room. After what felt like forever, Emma’s face flushed red before Derek finally released her. He even licked the liquid left on her chin. After catching her breath, Emma turned to look at my icy expression: “Don’t be so petty. You’re the one who made this toast rule in the first place!” I created that rule to show the management team that anyone who brings profit to the company deserves respect—even a junior employee. I never said the CEO and Vice President had to feed each other wine mouth-to-mouth! Then Derek held out a glass to me: “According to the rules, Mr. CEO, you also need to toast me. You wouldn’t want to embarrass me, would you?”

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Seven days before the wedding, Isaac pinned me against the floor-to-ceiling window, breathing heavily as he bit my earlobe and whispered that he would only love me in this lifetime. But ten minutes later, I heard him bragging to his friend through the dashcam recording: “Caroline is such an idiot. I’ve already fucked her senseless and she still hasn’t figured out that I don’t love her.” It turned out that million-dollar dream wedding was actually his elaborate revenge scheme designed for his first love. I smiled, wiped away the white traces he left between my legs, and quietly swapped the fertility pills for birth control. On the wedding day, I synced the video to the giant screen at the ceremony venue. As the live camera panned to the empty wedding dress, I was already boarding a first-class cabin using his secondary card. Only after the plane soared into the clouds did I send him one final message: “Show’s over. Don’t forget to enjoy the little surprise I left you.” Later, he knelt outside an art gallery in the pouring rain, only to watch my new boyfriend gently kiss the paint off my neck and murmur, “Baby… the studio sofa is way more exciting than your wedding bed, isn’t it?”

Caroline POV In seven days, I would marry Isaac. Our entire social circle buzzed with the same gossip: how I’d hit the jackpot, transforming from Floyd’s persistent admirer to Isaac’s cherished fiancée. Even I started to believe it. For years, Isaac had treated me like a treasure. He would drive across the city through a storm to bring me hot soup. He would postpone billion-dollar mergers to sit with me when I was unwell. He’d said, “Caroline, I’m going to give you a wedding for the century. The kind that silences every critic for good.” I believed him. Until ten minutes ago, when I received his text. “Honey, I had someone drop off the dashcam’s SD card. Could you grab the video of the fender bender for the insurance company?” This was followed by a voice message. “Thanks, babe. I’ll take you to that French restaurant tonight.” I smiled, typing “Okay” back, and inserted the card. The video was easy to find. After handling the accident, Isaac didn’t head to the office. Instead, he picked up two friends. I was about to close the file when a mocking laugh echoed from the speakers. “Isaac, that female driver was really checking you out. Caroline would be so jealous if she knew, right?” My hand, on the mouse, froze. I expected Isaac to defend me. “Jealous?” Isaac’s voice was cold, accompanied by the crisp click of a lighter. “Right now, all she can think about is being the most beautiful bride. She wouldn’t have time for jealousy.” My smile stiffened on my face. The conversation in the car continued, every word like a dagger. “Spending millions on this wedding just to spite Floyd, is it really worth it?” “What if Caroline clings to you afterward? You’ve been living together for four years, after all.” On the screen, Isaac exhaled a smoke ring, blurring his handsome profile. But it didn’t hide the coldness in his eyes. “A few million to see Floyd’s face fall flat? That’s a bargain.” He chuckled, as if discussing a worthless object. “On the wedding day, I’ll announce ‘game over’ in front of everyone.” “Floyd’s reaction will be priceless.” The car filled with the men’s crude laughter. “What about Caroline then? Getting dumped at the altar, live-streamed across the city – her life will be ruined, won’t it?” Isaac flicked his cigarette ash, indifferent. “It’s an adult game. If she’s stupid, who’s to blame?” The video cut abruptly. My study was deadly silent. I sat frozen in my chair, my blood turning to ice. So, those four years of deep affection were nothing but a meticulously planned deception. My stomach churned. I rushed to the bathroom, retching over the toilet, but nothing came up. Tears splashed onto the floor, and I fiercely wiped them away. Caroline, don’t cry. He’s not worth your tears. I splashed cold water on my face, looking at my pale reflection in the mirror. So, you want to play dirty? Fine, I’ll play along. I returned to my computer, my hands still trembling, but my eyes had grown cold. I backed up that five-minute recording of their car conversation, along with the accident video, to my cloud storage. Then, I only clipped the accident footage and sent it to the insurance specialist. My phone lit up with a message from Isaac: “Did you send the video? I’ll be back to pick you up soon. Wear that red dress tonight, you look gorgeous in it.” I stared at his familiar profile picture, my fingertips turning white from how hard I pressed them. Finally, I replied: “Sent.” Putting my phone down, I walked into my walk-in closet. The red dress hung in the most prominent spot, flown in from Paris by him last week. He’d said only my skin tone could pull off that shade of red. Memories flashed back to that stormy night four years ago. Floyd had thrown the birthday gift I’d made him into the trash, mocking me in front of everyone. “Caroline, do you not understand ‘no’? Just looking at you makes me sick.” Everyone laughed, and I felt like a pathetic clown. It was Isaac who emerged from the corner, draped his suit jacket over me, shielding me from those humiliating stares. “Come with me,” he’d said. “I’ll take you home.” That night, I thought he was my savior. Now I knew, all of it, every single thing, was a lie.

Caroline POV At 7 PM, Isaac arrived promptly to pick me up. He wore a deep gray custom suit, his tie the one I’d personally tied for him that morning. As soon as he got in the car, he leaned over and kissed my forehead. “Why are your hands so cold?” He held my hand, his brow furrowed, his eyes filled with concern. “Did you leave the study air conditioning on too high?” If I hadn’t heard that recording. I would have certainly believed myself to be the happiest woman in the world right then. I pulled my hand back, pretending to adjust my dress. “Maybe I’m just hungry.” Isaac didn’t suspect anything, smiling as he started the car. “Then let’s go, wouldn’t want my fiancée to starve.” The restaurant was on the top floor, offering a panoramic view of the city lights. As I cut my steak, I spoke casually. “Isaac.” “Hmm?” He smoothly swapped our plates, placing the neatly cut beef in front of me. “I ran into Austin today.” I watched his eyes, not missing a single flicker of expression. “He asked if I was nervous.” Isaac’s hand, mid-cut through the meat, paused. It lasted only a second, too brief to catch. Then he looked up, his smile perfect. “Don’t mind him. You just focus on being beautiful.” “He also said…” I tightened my grip on the knife and fork, my fingertips pressing hard. “Floyd’s back in the country recently, and he asked if that would make you awkward.” “Caroline.” Isaac put down his cutlery, reaching to cover my hand. His palm was warm, but his tone held an unyielding firmness. “Why bring that person up? I told you, we’re getting married. Everything from the past is over.” He looked at me, his eyes so deep with affection they could drown a person. “I only want you.” If that recording wasn’t still sitting in my cloud storage, I would have almost believed him again. “Right, it’s over.” I lowered my head, spearing a piece of beef and putting it in my mouth. Medium-rare, still a little bloody. It was premium quality, yet it tasted like sawdust in my mouth. “Oh, right.” Isaac seemed to remember something, pulling out a delicate velvet box and sliding it across the table to me. “I almost forgot, this is your pre-wedding gift.” I opened it. It was a sapphire necklace, deep in color and clearly very expensive. “Do you like it?” He looked at me expectantly. I gazed at the deep blue, suddenly recalling an Ins story Bethany had posted last month. The caption read: “Love this profound blue, but Isaac said it doesn’t suit me.” So, it didn’t suit her, and that’s why it came to me. Or perhaps, he bought two, and this was the leftover one? “I love it.” I closed the lid, curving my lips into a smile for him. “Must have been expensive, right?” “Spending money on you, any amount is worth it.” Isaac ruffled my hair, his eyes full of doting affection. I made an excuse to go to the restroom to touch up my makeup. Standing at the sink, I looked at the woman with perfect makeup in the mirror, forcing a smile that was uglier than a cry. If you want to play the doting fiancé, then I’ll help you out. I pulled out my phone and dialed my immigration lawyer. The call was answered immediately. “Miss Caroline, have you reached a decision?” I looked at my reflection, my voice chillingly calm. “Please reschedule my flight.” “To when?” “The morning of the wedding. Ten o’clock.” I hung up and reapplied my lipstick. Watching the vibrant red take shape, I felt my heart harden. Isaac. This last dinner, I will remember it well. When I returned to the table, Isaac was replying to messages. Seeing me, he quickly turned off his screen, smiling as he stood up. “Let’s go, home.” I linked my arm through his, feeling his muscles tense for a split second. “Okay, home.”

Caroline POV Five days before the wedding, Bethany arrived. Under the guise of helping with preparations, she brazenly moved into the Gerald estate. She was Isaac’s childhood friend. And in the circle, she was widely known as the woman Isaac truly loved. If not for the strong opposition from the Gerald family elders, the position of Mrs. Gerald would have been hers long ago. “Caroline, this evening gown is so beautiful.” Bethany stood in front of the fitting room mirror, wearing the red toast dress that was originally mine. The waist had been altered to be incredibly tight, accentuating her graceful figure. She twirled, looking at Isaac, who was seated on the sofa. “Isaac, don’t I look better than Caroline in red?” Isaac held a business magazine, not looking up. “Stop it, take it off. That’s for Caroline.” His tone was one of reproof, yet I couldn’t detect a hint of anger. Bethany pouted, reluctantly heading to the dressing room. “So stingy, I just wanted to try it on!” I sat nearby, sipping my tea, watching quietly. In the past, I would have been angry, would have argued with Isaac. Then Isaac would have patiently appeased me, saying I was narrow-minded, saying Bethany was just like a sister. Now, looking back, I realize how foolish I must have seemed. “Caroline, don’t mind her. Bethany’s just spoiled by me.” Isaac put down his magazine and reached for my hand. “If you don’t like it, I’ll ask her to move out.” “It’s fine.” I avoided his hand, pouring him a cup of tea. “It’s lively with more people. Plus, there are plenty of rooms.” Isaac paused. He clearly hadn’t expected me to be so generous. Before, whenever Bethany appeared, all my defenses would go up. “You’re not mad?” He looked at me, testing the waters. “Why would I be mad?” I smiled. “She’s a friend, and she’ll be a frequent guest. Besides, it’s just a dress. If she likes it, let her wear it.” After all, I wasn’t planning on wearing that dress anyway. A flicker of surprise, then relief, crossed Isaac’s eyes. “Caroline, you’ve really changed. You’ve become more mature.” Mature? You all forced me to be mature. Just then, a sharp crash came from the dressing room. Followed by Bethany’s cry. “Oops!” Isaac’s expression shifted. He tossed the magazine aside and was already moving. So fast, I didn’t even react. At the dressing room door, Bethany was sprawled on the floor, surrounded by shattered ceramic pieces. It was a sculpture by a modern art master, which Isaac had paid a fortune for and gifted to me. “Isaac, I didn’t mean to…” Bethany’s eyes were red-rimmed, looking utterly pitiful. “I tripped, and I tried to catch the sculpture, but then…” Isaac didn’t even glance at the priceless artwork. He immediately knelt down, taking Bethany’s hand to check it. “Did you cut your hand? How can you be so clumsy?” “It hurts…” Bethany whined delicately. I stood a few feet away, watching the jarring scene. That sculpture, Isaac had once cherished it, saying it represented our unbreakable love. Now it was shattered into pieces, and he didn’t even bat an eye. “Caroline!” Isaac turned to me, his voice urgent. “Go get the first-aid kit, Bethany cut her hand.” I looked at him, unmoving. “What’s wrong?” He frowned, seemingly annoyed by my slow reaction. “Nothing.” I turned towards the cabinet, my voice calm. “It’s broken, so what? “It was old anyway. Time for a new one.” Isaac’s body stiffened. He seemed to infer something from my words, yet also seemed to miss everything. His attention was entirely focused on Bethany’s wound, which wasn’t even bleeding. I returned with the first-aid kit, placing it on the table. “You two can take your time. I’m tired, I’m going upstairs to rest.” As I turned to go upstairs, I heard Bethany whisper. “Isaac, is Caroline mad?” Isaac’s voice was irritable. “Don’t mind her. She was never this cold-hearted before.” I didn’t stop. Reaching the second-floor landing, I took out my phone and sent a message to the pet transport company: “Please add another pet transport ticket. I’m taking Buddy with me.”

Caroline POV Three days before the wedding, the jewelry company delivered the wedding rings. Isaac was on a video conference in his study, so he asked me to sign for them. I signed the receipt and took the heavy box into his study. He was listening to a subordinate’s report, his expression serious. Seeing me enter, his eyes softened instantly. He pointed to the corner of the desk, signaling me to put it down for now. I placed the box on the desk. As I turned, my elbow accidentally knocked over a stack of documents. They scattered across the floor, revealing a design blueprint hidden beneath. I bent down to pick them up. My movements paused the moment I saw the blueprint clearly. It was a rough sketch of a ring design. The main stone was a rare pink diamond, and the inside of the band was engraved with “Only One.” The date on it was half a month ago. The wedding ring I had just signed for, however, had a white diamond as the main stone and was engraved with the first initials of our names. Isaac took off his headphones and walked over. “What’s wrong?” He followed my gaze to the blueprint, his expression stiffening. He discreetly pulled it out and tucked it into a folder. “Nothing, just a discarded draft.” His tone was natural as he put an arm around my shoulder. “Did you try on the ring? Does it fit?” I looked at him and smiled. “Not yet. I’ll try it tonight.” At two in the morning, the person beside me was breathing steadily. I quietly got out of bed and walked into the study. I opened the safe; the password was my birthday. Inside, two identical dark blue boxes rested silently. I opened the one on the left. Inside was a pink diamond, engraved “Only One.” Dazzling. I opened the one on the right. A white diamond, engraved with our initials. Standard Isaac had once said, “Caroline, you are my only one.” It turned out this was the real “only one.” I took both rings out. And swapped their cases. I put the pink diamond into the box designated for the wedding, and the white diamond into the box that was originally meant for Bethany. After doing all that, I closed the safe. Back in the bedroom, Isaac rolled over, his arm instinctively reaching for me. I avoided his hand and lay on the edge of the bed. Moonlight spilled across the floor, lighting the calendar on the nightstand. A date was circled in red. Three more days until I could finally leave him.

Caroline POV Next, I started clearing out my belongings. My home was filled with all the gifts Isaac had given me over the past four years. Hermès bags, Cartier sets, limited edition high heels. Once, these were all proof of his affection. I contacted a luxury consignment store. Because of the sheer volume, they sent an appraiser directly to my home. “Mrs. Gerald, these bags are all brand new. Are you sure you want to sell them all?” The appraiser, wearing gloves, looked regretful. “Sell them.” I took a sip of coffee, my voice calm. “Transfer the money, the sooner the better.” Isaac returned just as several workers were moving boxes. The house was half-empty, feeling somewhat desolate. “What’s going on?” He frowned, looking at the empty walk-in closet. “I want to redecorate.” I walked over, helping him untie his tie. “Clear out all the old stuff. After we’re married, everything will be new. I want every corner of our home to be a fresh start.” Isaac paused. Then, a smile spread across his face. He probably thought I was hopelessly in love with him, wanting to completely bid farewell to the past and wholeheartedly become his wife. “Okay.” He took my hand and kissed my fingertips. “Whatever you want. As long as you’re happy, you can tear the house down.” I pointed to Buddy’s dog bed in the corner. “I sent Buddy to a pet hotel. It’s a bit messy here these days, and I didn’t want him to be disturbed.” Buddy was our golden retriever, whom Isaac usually doted on the most. “Whatever you say.” He didn’t show any suspicion, even looking a little touched. “Caroline, you’ve worked so hard for this home.” While Isaac was in the bathroom showering. My phone vibrated with a bank deposit notification. A long string of numbers, enough to buy a small apartment in London. I deleted the message and opened my private cloud storage. I scheduled the dashcam video to be sent at a specific time. The recipient was the wedding control center. The send time was 10 AM on the wedding day. After doing all this, the sound of water in the bathroom stopped. Isaac emerged, wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping. “Honey, could you grab my pajamas?” I handed them to him. As he took them, he pulled me into his arms, his voice a little husky. “The wedding’s in two days. Nervous?” I leaned against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. “Not nervous,” I said. “I’m very much looking forward to it.” I’m very much looking forward to how surprised you’ll be when you see the grand gift I’m giving you.

Caroline POV It was the day before the wedding. I went to the wedding planner’s office to confirm the final details. As I stepped out of the elevator, someone blocked my way. Floyd leaned against the corridor wall, a cigarette held between his fingers. Through the haze of smoke, his face was as cold and arrogant as ever. “Caroline, you actually dare to marry him.” He flicked his cigarette ash, looking at me as if I were an idiot. “Do you really believe Isaac would change for you?” I stopped, looking at the man I had chased for seven years. Once, I would have waited in a snowstorm for three hours just to see him. Now, looking at him, my heart was surprisingly calm. “Mr. Floyd, do you have any advice?” “Isaac is playing you.” Floyd sneered, taking a step closer. “He’s been battling me for years; marrying you is just to spite me. Believe it or not, the moment the wedding is over, you’ll be nothing but a discarded pawn.” He was right. Unfortunately, he was too late. “So what?” I looked at him, a playful smile on my lips. “Are you feeling sorry for me, Floyd? Or do you just miss me?” Floyd’s face changed, as if he’d heard a joke. “Caroline, don’t get ahead of yourself. I just don’t want to see you make a fool of yourself, and then come crying to me.” “Don’t worry.” I smoothed my wind-blown hair. “Even if I were dying, I wouldn’t beg you.” Floyd’s face darkened. “You’re truly ungrateful.” I walked past him, heading for the elevator. As I brushed past, I stopped and turned my head to look at him. “Floyd, make sure to sit in the front row tomorrow.” I smiled, my voice soft. “After all, this show wouldn’t be as exciting without an audience like you.” Floyd looked at me, brow furrowed. For the first time, his eyes held a flicker of confusion and something unreadable. The elevator doors closed, severing his gaze. My phone rang. It was Isaac. “Caroline, where are you? The planner says there’s a schedule change. They need us for a rehearsal.” I stared at the vibrating screen. A change? So they’re swapping out our memory slideshow for something else. “Okay, I’m downstairs.” I answered, my voice gentle. “I’ll be right up.”

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Married for five years, Julian clung to me every night, murmuring that my waist was the addiction he could never quit. Until I found two pregnancy test reports hidden in the secret compartment of his study— One was mine, crossed out in red ink: “Not keeping it.” The other belonged to Chloe, with the note: “My one and only baby.” Late at night, during his so-called overtime, I received a video from the private detective. In his office, Julian roughly tore Chloe’s stockings, his fingertips sliding up the inside of her thigh: “You’re still the one with all the tricks… Once I dump that idiot, I’ll marry you.” The video froze on him desperately kissing her. Later, in front of all his most important clients, I projected that video onto the huge screen at the gala banquet. He went completely insane with regret and searched for me for three whole years. When he finally found me, I was in a wedding dress, fingers interlaced with my new love, as the ring slowly slid onto my finger. Julian stood at the entrance of the chapel, eyes bloodshot, as if they were about to bleed. I didn’t even turn my head. I only softly said to my groom: “Darling, it’s time to kiss me.”

Elara’s POV Five years into our marriage, I was finally expecting a child. I’d scheduled an appointment with our trust attorney to set up a newborn fund as a surprise for Julian on our fifth anniversary. But when the attorney tried to access Julian’s assets for authorization, the system kept denying access. “Ms. Vance, are you certain Mr. Thorne’s marital status hasn’t changed?” After several failed attempts, a hint of professional bewilderment crossed the attorney’s face. I frowned slightly. “We’ve been married for five years, and our relationship has always been stable.” The attorney tried once more, finally projecting an encrypted file onto the screen. He pushed up his glasses with a sigh. “I suggest you verify this with Mr. Thorne yourself. According to this trust agreement, the beneficiary of all Mr. Thorne’s assets, including the legal spouse clause, is a Ms. Chloe Davies.” I walked out of the law firm, chilled to the bone. The fragile joy I’d carried as an expectant mother was utterly gone. The attorney’s words were like an ice hammer, striking over and over. “Your marriage to Mr. Thorne is not legally valid.” Our five years of marriage… was it all a lie? Julian and I had known each other since childhood. He was a golden boy, a man destined for greatness, constantly surrounded by admirers, yet he cherished me above all else, always prioritizing my needs. Everyone said Julian loved me, loved me enough to pluck the stars from the sky for me. But why, then, would he secretly care for another woman, where I couldn’t see? I barely hesitated, immediately booking a flight to Naples. Julian was there, attending a top-tier business summit. I had to get answers from him directly. When I found the private island resort hosting the summit, I walked straight into the outdoor evening gala. The Neapolitan sunset washed the scene in a soft, golden light, but I had no eyes for it. I simply pushed through the clink of glasses and the murmur of polite conversation, searching for him in desperation. My gaze swept over the man being fawned over at the VIP table, and in that instant, I felt my blood run cold. He wore a perfectly tailored white suit, tall and striking, impossibly handsome. On his face was a look of profound, unburdened happiness I had never seen before. That was my husband of five years-Julian Thorne. “Congratulations, Julian, you finally made it!” “Seriously, Julian played this perfectly. He gave Elara that fairytale wedding back home to keep her placated, while over here, he waited for Chloe to come of age, then used the family trust to secure everything for her-untouchable!” “But Julian, are you serious about Chloe? Her background isn’t exactly ideal…” Someone lowered their voice. “What about Elara? These past five years…weren’t you afraid of getting caught?” “You don’t get it, ” someone chuckled. “Julian feels guilty toward Chloe, but more than that, it’s a sense of duty. If Chloe hadn’t pushed Elara out of the way back then, Elara would’ve been the one to lose her leg. Julian says he owes Chloe for life. These five years were just a waiting game-buying time until he could make it official.” “What a brilliant move!” I froze, feeling as if I’d been shoved into the deep sea, every breath a luxury. I even wondered if I was hearing things. But the next second, Julian’s own words plunged me into an ice-cold abyss. “My commitment to Chloe is real.” His voice was calm, steady, each word a verdict. “She gave up dancing to save Elara. She’ll need a cane for life. All she wants now is security and a future-things I can give her.” So, that was it. My eyes burned. That trust fund wasn’t a mistake. It was a plan. Five years ago, at an art gallery accident, I was nearly crushed by a falling sculpture. Chloe, an art student with me, didn’t hesitate. She rushed forward and pushed me to safety. She came from nothing, parentless, but with raw, stunning talent. To repay her for saving my life, Julian and I funded her entirely: hiring renowned teachers, sending her to the best schools. Back then, Julian said Chloe saving me was like saving his own life. He was willing to give everything to compensate her. I just never imagined his “compensation” would include giving away our marriage and his entire future. The most laughable part was that for five whole years, I had been utterly oblivious. Julian’s friend asked again, “What about Elara? If she finds out…” I saw him lower his eyes, his long fingers lightly tapping his phone screen, his voice laced with the confidence of someone in complete control. “I’ll continue to treat Elara just as well; she’ll never find out.” “All of you, keep your mouths shut. Don’t let anything slip in front of her.” The next moment, my phone buzzed. I looked down at the message from Julian, my heart clutched by an invisible hand, a chill spreading from my fingertips to my bones. “Sweetheart, I miss you. This summit is so boring; every second without you is agonizing. I’ll definitely be back for our anniversary. Love, Julian.” I clenched my phone, then looked up at him, laughing and chatting amidst the crowd not far away. A dense, sharp pain pierced my heart. My vision blurred, and hot tears streamed uncontrollably-this wasn’t my Julian. My Julian was the boy who, to pick a edelweiss from a cliff for me, would smile and say “it’s worth it” even with his arm scratched by rocks; He was the man who, for my eighteenth birthday, booked an entire observatory just so I could see a star named after me; He was the man who, on my parents’ remembrance day, would put aside multi-million dollar deals to spend the entire day quietly by my side; He was the man who, after we married, spoiled me into a sheltered princess, and ceaselessly doted on me and shared passionate nights… Not this liar before me, who professed love to me with one breath, while writing another woman into the legal contract of his life with the next. My heart felt like it was being torn apart, and I bit down hard on my lip. My phone vibrated again; it was his call. I hesitated for a second, then answered. “Elara, where are you? Have you had dinner? It sounds lively on your end.” His voice was as gentle as ever, tender and affectionate. “Julian, what are you doing?” I instinctively clenched my fist, my nails digging deep into my palm. I thought, if he would just admit it, I’d give him a chance to explain. “Just dealing with a few businessmen, it’s a headache.” His voice carried a deliberately crafted weariness. “Summit dinner, you know, utterly tedious. Are you at the gallery? If you like a painting, just have the manager wrap it up.” I suddenly laughed, but the light in my eyes extinguished inch by inch. After a moment of silence, I whispered, “Okay.” He immediately sensed my distress. “Sweetheart, are you upset? Who bothered you?” “Too many people. I’ll hang up now.” The moment I hung up, I saw a girl in a white evening gown, leaning on an elegant cane, hobble towards Julian and fall into his embrace. It was Chloe. “Julian, my foot hurts a little.” “Let me see.” His voice held a tenderness and caution I had never heard directed at me. He knelt, carefully massaging her ankle, his eyes filled with heartache. “It’s my fault for letting you stand so long.” That tenderness was a cruel stab to my eyes. So, his love could be divided, and his concern could be replicated. Julian, how could your heart hold two people? I fled in a panic, hiding in the dark shadows of the hotel garden, curling up and hugging myself, letting silent tears stream down my face. When the tears finally ran dry, I rose. The last glimmer of light in my eyes hardened into something cold and absolute. This five-year farce of a marriage was over. Julian, the man, was nothing to me now. Since Chloe was the only partner he would ever claim, I would give them exactly what they wanted. In two weeks, it would be my parents’ remembrance day. After I paid my respects, I would leave. I would vanish from Julian’s world without a trace.

Elara’s POV I took the earliest flight home, and the first thing I did after landing was head straight to the hospital to schedule an abortion. “Ms. Vance, the accident five years ago damaged your uterus. It’s a miracle you even conceived. If you don’t keep this child, you may find it very difficult to have one in the future. Please reconsider and talk to your husband.” My fingertips turned cold, and my heart clenched. Julian had never told me. All these years, whenever our families asked about children, he took the blame, saying he wanted a few more years with just me. My eyes filled with tears then. He had been so thoughtful, so afraid of hurting me. But no matter how good he had been, it didn’t change the fact that he had lied. “Thank you, Doctor. I’ll think about it,” I heard myself say. I walked out of the consultation room in a daze, my steps unsteady, only to see Julian-who was supposed to be abroad-at the end of the corridor. And Chloe. Julian was carefully helping Chloe out of the obstetrics clinic, his face beaming with unconcealed joy and nervousness. His gentle gaze was fixed on her face, not willing to move away for a second. “Julian, don’t be so nervous; I’m just having some early pregnancy symptoms, it’s not like I’m sick,” Chloe said, her eyes curving into a sweet, girlish smile. Julian rarely showed a smile, but his voice was unusually tight. “This is our first child; there can’t be any mishaps.” I clutched the appointment slip in my hand, feeling the temperature being slowly drained from my body. In that moment, I distinctly heard the sound of my heart shattering, inch by painful inch. It turned out, that when pain reached its peak, tears wouldn’t come. Julian helped Chloe into the elevator. The moment the elevator doors slowly closed, I lowered my head and unfolded the appointment slip. Then, I turned and walked back into the clinic. “Let’s schedule the surgery for the day after tomorrow.” I couldn’t let my child be born into a monumental lie. As if by cruel twist of fate, I met them again in the underground parking garage. In that moment, I inexplicably started my car and followed them from a distance. Julian took Chloe to a private art gallery in the city. My heart sank completely. That gallery was one he had built exclusively for me last year on my birthday. It housed all my favorite paintings. He had personally told me it was my own private artistic sanctuary. But now, he was walking into it, hand-in-hand, with another woman. Inside the gallery, Chloe stood beneath my favorite starry night painting. Julian approached, pushing a white-draped cart laden with exquisite desserts. He elegantly took a velvet box from the cart and opened it-inside was a dazzling star-themed necklace. “To my little artist, congratulations on your promotion to expectant mother.” In that instant, I almost lost my footing. “Julian… thank you,” Chloe’s eyes reddened, on the verge of tears. “You even made desserts for me yourself.” “Go on, try it,” Julian’s voice was agonizingly tender. “Once you’re done, go back and rest. You’ve spent enough time with me; it’s time for me to go back to Elara.” Chloe blinked knowingly, forcing a hint of tears. But Julian, filled with heartache, pulled her into his embrace. “Silly girl, we’re not going anywhere today. I’m staying with you. You’re my wife now; I’ll spend more time with you and the baby.” I retreated slowly from around the corner, my back pressing against the cold wall, a chill spreading up my spine, making me tremble all over. Yes. Chloe was Julian’s wife. And I was nothing but a deceived fool, completely oblivious for five whole years. I remembered when Julian first brought me here, he also had an identical necklace for me. To make that dessert, he had secretly followed a Michelin chef for an entire month. “Elara, try my cooking. From now on, I’ll take care of all your meals.” “In this lifetime, I will only love you.” He swore these vows in my ear while putting the necklace on me. But now, this unique love and adoration, which was originally mine, was perfectly and precisely replicated for Chloe. My chest felt tight and painful. It turned out Julian’s “lifetime” was so short. I turned and fled, tears streaming down my face as I left the gallery. Immediately afterward, I went straight to my lawyer’s office to begin liquidating all my assets, stripping away everything connected to Julian. My parents’ inheritance was enough to ensure my secure and carefree life. And all I wanted was to completely sever ties with him as quickly as possible.

Elara’s POV It was dusk when I returned home. The sprawling villa was empty, only a solitary light illuminating the entryway. I practically dragged myself onto the sofa, my gaze sweeping over the artworks and books we had chosen together, my heart feeling like it was being repeatedly crushed by a giant stone. Each beat brought a clear, sharp pain. I rubbed my temples, forcing myself to stand and walk toward the massive book wall. That was the first rare art book we’d found together; he had laughed and complimented me, saying my discerning eye was unmatched. That art history book, filled with our shared notes-he had once put his arm around my waist and said we would travel the world, visiting every museum together. And that rare poetry collection he’d gone to such lengths to find for me, on its flyleaf, in his beautiful handwriting- “To my dearest Elara, my only one in this life.” … I pulled out one of the books and opened it. Then, I tore every single one of his handwritten words, page by page, into tiny pieces. The sound of tearing paper was eerily clear in the empty living room. For an entire night, I mechanically repeated the same action, systematically severing every shared thought, every passion, every piece of our combined souls. By dawn, my arms were numb, my fingertips devoid of feeling. And Julian still hadn’t returned. Today was supposed to be our wedding anniversary. At the stroke of midnight on our anniversary, Julian’s social media account updated promptly. It was a video he’d personally edited, documenting our five years together, with deeply affectionate accompanying text. It captivated the entire internet overnight. The largest outdoor screens in the city center were also looping the video. The lawn outside the villa had, at some point, been transformed into a rose garden. In the center of the garden, a drone hovered, dangling a giant gift box containing a set of rare art supplies I had long wished for. His deep, magnetic voice played on a loudspeaker- “Elara, happy anniversary. I love you, just as I did from the start.” I emotionlessly pulled the curtains closed, burying myself under the duvet, shutting out the world’s clamor. Not long after, his call came through, his voice full of apology. “Sweetheart, an urgent situation came up with the merger in Europe, so I can’t make it back today. When I return, I promise to make it up to you with an even grander anniversary celebration.” Listening to his flawless lie, I suddenly chuckled, my laugh slightly trembling. “It’s alright, you focus on your work.” “Sweetheart, you sound upset.” He keenly picked up on my mood. “Don’t you like the surprise I prepared? Don’t be angry; I’ll make it up to you tenfold in a few days.” “No, work is important,” I said, my voice calm. “I’m a little tired; I want to sleep.” I hung up, curled into a ball, and desperately tried to suppress the pain in my chest. After what felt like an eternity, the bedroom door suddenly burst open, and a blinding beam of light flooded in. Silhouetted against the light, I saw Julian standing in the doorway, his face frantic. His hair was disheveled, his face pale, and his deep eyes were filled with fear and dread. Perhaps he had sensed my unusual mood and, unable to reach me, had taken his private jet straight back. The moment he saw me, he practically rushed over, pulling me into a tight embrace, his voice hoarse and choked. “Thank goodness you’re alright! Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…” His eyes were red, his body trembling uncontrollably. “I’ll never leave you alone again. When you didn’t answer my calls, my whole world collapsed.” “Nothing is more important than you; I came back to be with you.” I remained silent. He assumed I was still angry, so he knelt by the bed, softly coaxing me. “Elara, promise me you won’t ever ignore my calls again, don’t shut me out. I truly will go crazy.” His tension and fear seemed genuine. He loved me. But this love was tainted with too many lies and calculations. “You came back quickly,” I said, a ghost of a smile on my lips. His expression shifted instantly, a flash of guilt before he veered away. “Darling, you haven’t eaten all day. Let me take you to the gallery. I had your favorite made.” “No,” I shook my head. Panic tightened his features. “Then rest. I’ll make you something downstairs.” “Mm.” I gave a curt nod and turned away. He mistook my silence for petulance, drew a steadying breath, and left. The moment the door closed, I lay there, eyes wide open, staring into the darkness, my heart a barren wasteland.

Elara’s POV About ten minutes later, a commotion erupted downstairs. I went down and saw Julian’s friends crowding the living room. They were frantically trying to piece back together the torn book pages, attempting to return them to the shelves, as if restoring those fragments could somehow make everything go back to how it was. Seeing me appear, several of them spoke at once. “Elara, Julian almost tore Europe apart looking for you. Don’t scare him like that again.” “Next time you’re angry, tell us; we’ll help you beat him up. Just don’t turn off your phone again, Julian really went crazy.” “That’s right, Julian’s face turned white as a sheet when he saw the shredded paper everywhere; he almost fainted on the spot. He insisted on going through the trash, saying he’d tape every single piece back together.” “That’s enough,” Julian said, standing nearby, his face full of remorse. “It’s all my fault for upsetting Elara. I’ll accept whatever she does to me.” “Julian truly loves Elara; he has no pride in front of her. She’s so lucky.” I looked over and saw Chloe, who had arrived sometime earlier, standing in the crowd, looking envious. Julian’s expression was normal, a gentle smile on his lips. “She’s my wife, of course, I’ll spoil her.” A wave of intense nausea suddenly churned in my stomach. I spoke calmly. “No need to put the books back; I want to change the style.” Julian immediately came to my side, put his arm around my waist, his voice gentle and firm. “Alright, everyone stop. Listen to my wife.” He helped me sit on the sofa, then turned and went back to the kitchen. Soon, the dining table was laden with all the dishes I used to love. But I had no appetite. With one hand, he solicitously served me food, softly coaxing me to eat more; with the other, beneath the table, he clasped Chloe’s hand tightly. In that moment, I suddenly felt the absurdity of it all. I just wanted to escape. After dinner, Julian had arranged a fireworks display over the sea and invited my favorite jazz band. Halfway through the performance, he excused himself to go to the restroom. Impulsively, I followed him. In the yacht’s VIP lounge, I watched Chloe practically throw herself into Julian’s arms, rising on tiptoes to kiss him. “Julian, I miss you so much, just for a moment.” Julian put one arm around her waist and the other hand on the back of her head, deepening the kiss, and the room’s temperature instantly soared. After a long while, Chloe, her face flushed, pushed him away, her breath ragged. “Alright, you should go back to Elara.” “Are you sure?” Julian’s eyes, tinged with desire, caressed her red lips. Chloe lowered her gaze. “No, but Elara isn’t even answering your calls because of me. I don’t want her to be sad anymore. I can wait. You can come back to me after you’ve spent time with her.” “Your thoughtfulness always breaks my heart. Good girl, don’t think about anyone else right now, just enjoy.” Julian kissed her lips, tracing a path downward… A soft moan of pleasure escaped Chloe’s lips. “Julian, no…” It felt like being dropped into an ice bath. I bit down on the back of my hand, hard, to keep silent. I thought my heart had died, but seeing the betrayal up close-the pain was still visceral. A sharp, burning cramp twisted in my stomach. Nausea hit me like a wave. I clamped a hand over my mouth, stumbled to the bathroom, and retched until the room spun. Beneath the sickness, a familiar, dull ache pulsed low in my abdomen. I gently touched my abdomen, my eyes blurred with tears. Baby, I’m so sorry.

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Oliver spent twenty minutes searching for Grace in the fire while I was still trapped inside. I didn’t blame him. Her father had died saving his life. But when the firefighters finally pulled me out, my right hand was crushed to pulp by a fallen beam. That was the hand that had performed five hundred delicate neurosurgery procedures. Oliver glanced at it in the hospital, his brow creased. “Grace has a weak heart. She can’t take any shock. They can reattach your hand. Just don’t cry about the pain in front of her.” Later, the hand was reattached, but all the nerves were dead. Oliver said, “Maybe it’s better this way. You can’t be a surgeon anymore. Now you can focus on giving us a baby. Grace needs looking after. You’ll be here for her.” I looked at my useless, trembling hand and calmly slipped the high-risk epidemic relief volunteer application into my bag. “Fine. Whatever you say.” He didn’t know that once the application was approved, I would erase my social security number, change my name, and vanish from this world completely. As for the spouse’s signature? He’d signed it yesterday without a second thought, too busy rushing me to give up the master bedroom for Grace.

Jasmine POV On a stormy day, my right hand felt like thousands of ants were gnawing at the bone. I sat huddled in the corner of the sofa, trying to thread a needle. One of Oliver’s shirt buttons had fallen off. I used to be quick and precise at suturing wounds, but now the needle trembled uncontrollably in my grip. It missed the eye. My hand jerked, knocking over a small vial of dark amber tincture beside me. It was an unlicensed painkiller I’d brewed for myself. The brownish-black liquid spilled across the floor, sharp and chemical. The door opened. Oliver walked in with Grace. The rain outside was heavy. Oliver’s clothes were damp, but Grace was perfectly dry under his shelter, wearing the limited edition silk slip dress I’d been hunting for months. It was my dress. Oliver’s expression tightened the moment he crossed the threshold. His eyes flicked to the mess on the floor. “Jasmine, what’s all this? Keep it down. Grace just got home from the hospital. She can’t take any stress.” Grace shrank behind him, glancing at me timidly, her hand clutching Oliver’s sleeve. “Oliver, don’t blame Jasmine. I’m just too easily scared.” I didn’t look at them. I crouched to pick up the broken glass. My right hand jerked. A sharp edge sliced my fingertip open, and blood welled up instantly. If I’d gotten even a paper cut before, Oliver would have panicked and bought out every first aid kit in the city. Now he just watched coldly, even stepping back to avoid the spilled liquid on the floor. “That hand’s been useless for ages. How can you still be so clumsy?” He yanked at his tie in irritation. “Leave it. The cleaner will deal with it. You smell like a lab. It’s disgusting.” I watched the blood drip from my finger and mix into the black liquid below. Suddenly, it all felt pointless. “My hand hurts,” I said quietly. It was the truth. On rainy days, the broken parts throbbed with pain. Oliver stopped, then his frown deepened. “That excuse again. The physio said it healed months ago. How long are you going to keep up this act?” Grace interjected softly. “Is Jasmine upset that I’m wearing her dress? I’m sorry. My clothes got wet, and Oliver didn’t want me to catch a cold, so he told me to change. I’ll take it off right now and give it back.” She moved to pull at the straps, her eyes instantly reddening. Oliver grabbed her hand and glared at me. “It’s just a dress. Are you really this petty? Jasmine, you used to be so generous. When did you become so calculating?” I used to be generous because I had the confidence to be. I was the youngest lead surgeon at this top-tier hospital. I had my pride. I didn’t need to bother with a charity case like my adopted sister. But now, my hand was ruined. Oliver thought only my hand was ruined. But my value and dignity had been destroyed too. I ignored Grace’s performance, using my good left hand to pick up the glass shards one by one and drop them into the trash. Blood smeared across the floor. It was a shocking sight. Oliver finally seemed unable to stand it anymore. He walked over and kicked the trash can. “Enough. Stop being an eyesore. Go cook. Grace wants beef Wellington.” “I can’t make it.” I stood up, hiding my injured finger in my sleeve. “The pastry needs kneading. My hand doesn’t have the strength.” “Jasmine!” Oliver raised his voice. “How long are you going to keep this up? Grace is someone you watched grow up. You know she’s not well. Will making one meal kill you?” “It’ll hurt,” I said, looking into his eyes calmly. “Using force makes my hand hurt.” Oliver froze, seemingly not expecting me to push back so bluntly. The irritation in his eyes deepened. “Fine. Do whatever you want. If you won’t cook, then starve.” He pulled Grace upstairs and slammed the bedroom door shut with a bang. The world was finally quiet. I looked at the empty living room. This place used to be lively. I loved buying flowers, experimenting with molecular gastronomy, waiting for Oliver to come home. Now it was just a mess and bitterness filling every corner. I went to the bathroom to treat my wound. When I came out, I noticed an express delivery notice stuffed in the mailbox by the door. It was from Geneva headquarters. The sender’s name was a string of codes, but I knew who it was. It was from the global epidemic response team codenamed “Sentinel.” Three months ago, right after my hand was broken, I’d submitted an application. Back then, I hadn’t planned to leave completely. I just wanted to give myself an escape route. Now it seemed that route of escape had become my only path. I clutched the notice in my hand, crushing the paper into a crumpled ball. If there was no place left for me here, I would go where only the dead, or those who are already dead inside, could exist.

Jasmine POV The next morning, I went to the hospital. Even though I’d been suspended, I still wanted to visit, if only to smell the disinfectant. Passing by the neurosurgery clinic, I ran into my attending physician and mentor, Matthew. He looked at my hand and sighed, handing me the latest electromyography report. “Jasmine, nerve damage is irreversible. You’ll be fine for daily life, but holding a scalpel… that’s never going to happen again.” I’d known the outcome for a while, but hearing the verdict pronounced again still hollowed out a part of my chest. I traced the jagged scar and smiled faintly. “It’s okay. I can live without holding a scalpel. I can do pathology research.” Matthew hesitated, then finally just patted my shoulder. “Where’s Oliver? Why didn’t he come with you?” “He’s busy with a merger at the company.” He really was busy. On my way downstairs, I saw Oliver carrying Grace toward the ER. Her face was contorted in pain, hands clutched to her chest. Oliver’s forehead gleamed with sweat, his thousand-dollar custom shirt stained dark. In his rush, he shouldered past me without a glance-his eyes never leaving her. I stood there, watching their figures disappear around the corner. Matthew sighed behind me. “He’s like this again? Jasmine, why do you put yourself through this?” “It’s not suffering.” I tore up the follow-up report and tossed it in the trash. “It’ll be over soon.” When I got home from the hospital, the house was empty. I walked to the balcony, intending to check on the rare black orchid I’d been cultivating. Buried in that orchid’s soil was a targeted medication I’d spent three months extracting. Oliver suffered from severe migraines-the kind that made him bang his head against the wall. After my hand was ruined and I could no longer hold a scalpel, I combed through all my old experimental data and painstakingly extracted plant essences with my left hand, refining them into a concentrated paste. Because I couldn’t exert much force, I often injured myself during the grinding process and had to endure the fumes from chemical reagents. I hadn’t had a chance to give him the medicine yet. I walked onto the balcony and stopped dead in my tracks. The expensive orchid was lying on the ground, the pot shattered, soil scattered everywhere. And the dark brown paste I’d been fermenting on the shelf was now being poured over the orchid’s remains by Grace. The brownish liquid pooled on the floor, releasing a rich herbal fragrance. “Oh, Jasmine’s back?” Grace heard the noise and turned around, still holding the empty bottle. Her face wore a startled expression. “I thought this black stuff in the bottle was spoiled balsamic vinegar, so I was trying to help clean it up.” She’d poured it all out. Not a single drop remained. Three months of hard work. The thing I’d covered my hands in wounds to create. I walked over and took the empty bottle from her hand. I said nothing. “Jasmine, why are you looking at me like that? I really didn’t mean to…” Grace shrank back, tears coming instantly. “The smell was so strong it made me nauseous. I thought it was trash…” Footsteps sounded at the door. Oliver was back. Seeing the scene, he strode over and pulled Grace behind him, frowning at me. “What are you doing now? Grace just had her heart checked. The doctor said she can’t be upset.” I looked at the empty bottle in my hand and suddenly laughed. “Oliver, when your head hurts, don’t ask me for medicine anymore.” Oliver froze, then glanced at the mess on the floor and scoffed. “This black gunk? What weird experiment are you trying now? I told you before-I don’t take uncertified junk like this. It’s better that it’s gone. Saves space.” Was that uncertified junk? That was a specialized medication I’d created after reviewing dozens of top medical journals and consulting countless pharmacists, all to ease his pain. “Yeah. Better that it’s gone.” I released my grip. The empty bottle fell to the floor and shattered with a crack. Grace screamed, covering her ears and burying herself in Oliver’s arms. “Oliver, Jasmine’s so scary. I’m afraid of her…” Oliver patted her back, looking at me with disgust. “Jasmine, why have you become so unreasonable? Just because she spilled a bottle of your condiment, you have to throw a tantrum? Apologize to Grace!” I didn’t move. “Apologize!” He raised his voice, his gaze ice-cold. In the past, I would’ve shoved the molecular formula in his face, told him what it really was, and had a screaming match with him. But now, looking at the black puddle on the floor, it looked like my dead heart. “I’m sorry.” I spoke, my voice so calm it surprised even me. Oliver clearly hadn’t expected me to comply so quickly. He froze, the reprimand on his lips stuck in his throat. I didn’t look at him. I turned to get the mop. “I’ll clean it up.” I bent down, using my ruined hand to clumsily sweep the shards and soil into the dustpan. Oliver stood there watching me. For some reason, he didn’t leave with Grace like usual. Instead, he stood there, his frown deepening. “Jasmine, you…” “The floor’s too dirty. You two should leave so you don’t get your shoes dirty.” I interrupted him without looking up, kneeling on the floor with a rag, wiping away the medicinal liquid bit by bit. Some things couldn’t be cleaned. Once they seeped in, they’d never come out.

Jasmine POV Oliver’s birthday arrived. In previous years, I would start planning a week in advance. I’d take half a day off, reserve premium ingredients, and spend an entire day in the kitchen making a full table of his favorite French cuisine. I’d decorate the house warmly and prepare expensive surprise gifts for him. Even his business friends knew that day was “Chef Jasmine Day,” calling ahead to reserve a spot at dinner. But this year, I did nothing. That morning, Oliver deliberately spent a long time at the mirror, changing into a new custom-tailored suit. He glanced at me several times, seemingly waiting for me to say “Happy birthday.” But I just sat by the window reading. I didn’t even look up. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Before leaving, he cleared his throat. “I have a few partners coming over tonight.” “Oh.” I turned a page. “Get ready.” He tossed out that sentence and slammed the door. At 5 PM, Oliver called. The background was noisy. Someone was heckling. “Where’s Jasmine? I’ve been craving that lobster she makes for a whole year!” Oliver’s voice sounded a bit smug. “She’s busy at home. Just come straight over.” Then he said to me, “Jasmine, make plenty of food. Matthew and the others are coming. Don’t embarrass me.” I held the phone, looking at the gray sky outside. “I didn’t cook.” Silence on the other end for a second. “What did you say?” Oliver’s voice dropped. “I said I didn’t cook. I didn’t order catering either.” I said calmly. “My hand hurts. Prepping ingredients is too exhausting. I can’t do it.” “Jasmine, you’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you?” Oliver lowered his voice, anger traveling through the line. “It’s my birthday. My friends are all watching. You’re making me look bad?” Grace’s voice came through. Cloying. “Oliver, is Jasmine still mad at me? How about I cook? Even though I’m not well, I can endure it for you.” Oliver immediately said, “Don’t you dare. Your hands are for painting. How can you let them touch cooking grease?” Hearing that, I couldn’t help but look at my right hand. My hand used to hold a scalpel. It was a hand that could snatch people back from death. Now, in his eyes, it wasn’t even worthy of cooking for Grace. “Since Grace cares about you so much, let her do it.” I hung up. Half an hour later, Oliver came home. With Grace, and that group of awkward-looking friends. They walked in to find cold pots and a cold stove. The open kitchen had no trace of warmth. Oliver’s face was black as soot. “Jasmine, fine. You’re really something.” He ground his teeth, throwing his coat violently onto the sofa. “Are you staging a rebellion?” Friends awkwardly tried to smooth things over. “Jasmine’s hand is injured. It’s normal she can’t cook. Let’s just go to a Michelin restaurant. I’ve been wanting to try that new place anyway.” Grace wiped away tears beside them. “It’s all my fault. If it weren’t for me, Jasmine wouldn’t treat Oliver like this…” I ignored the chaos filling the room and turned toward the study. “Where are you going?” Oliver shouted behind me. “To pack.” I walked into the study and pulled out a large cardboard box from the cabinet. Inside were all the medical awards, licenses, and certificates I’d earned since childhood, along with every paper I’d published in core journals over the years. I used to treasure these things. I’d take them out and polish them when I had free time. Oliver used to say I was his pride. He loved seeing me shine as a top surgeon, confident and radiant. Now, to him, these things were probably worth less than one of Grace’s sketches. I started throwing the certificates into the box one by one. My movements were gentle but decisive. “What are you doing?” Oliver appeared in the doorway at some point, freezing when he saw what I was doing. “These things take up space.” I picked up a notebook Oliver had once given me, filled with dense notes from my surgeries. “Do you want it?” Oliver glanced at it. It was a pure leather notebook he’d brought back from a business trip to Italy during our first year of marriage. The flyleaf still read, “To my beloved genius doctor.” His gaze flickered, as if remembering something, but it was quickly replaced by impatience. “What act are you putting on now? Don’t want to stay married anymore?” “Do you want these or not?” I asked persistently. “If not, I’m throwing them out.” Oliver laughed coldly. “Who cares about your junk besides you? Throw it out if you want. Make room for Grace.” “Okay.” I closed the box. That night, they ate out. I lit a fire in the backyard fireplace. Those certificates and awards representing thirty years of my achievements curled, blackened, and finally turned to ash in the flames. The firelight reflected on my face. It felt hot. When I got to the notebook, I hesitated for a moment, then threw it in anyway. Oliver, since you don’t care, I won’t keep it. Along with my love for you, I’ll burn it all clean.

Jasmine POV The next day, Grace predictably set her sights on my study. At the breakfast table, she cradled her oat milk and said casually, “Oliver, my therapist said I’m under a lot of stress lately. She suggested I paint to help. But the guest room lighting is too dim. I noticed Jasmine’s study faces south. The natural light is perfect…” She didn’t finish, just looked at Oliver with those dewy eyes. Oliver set down his coffee cup and glanced at me. “Jasmine, you threw out most of your books anyway. The study’s empty. Why not let Grace use it as a studio?” I was drinking coffee. My hand paused at his words. I’d designed that study myself. Ergonomic chair, shadowless lamp-every shelf height was calibrated for me to easily access reference materials and write papers. It was my last territory in this house. “That’s my study,” I said, looking at him. “You don’t work anymore. What do you need a study for?” Oliver said matter-of-factly. “Grace wants to paint for her health. It’ll help her condition. Can you stop being so selfish?” “Selfish?” I laughed, the smile not reaching my eyes. “Oliver, when we bought this house, I paid half. I decorated that study. I moved every single book in there myself. And now you want to give it to Grace?” Oliver slammed his knife down on the table with a bang. “Jasmine, do you really have to settle accounts with me so clearly? Grace’s health is poor. What’s wrong with you accommodating her? Besides, if it weren’t for you, would Grace’s health be this bad?” Here we go again. The fire was his trump card. Every time he brought it up, I had to shut my mouth. “That day of the fire, if you hadn’t insisted on running back in to save that dog, your hand wouldn’t be broken!” Oliver pointed at my nose, his face full of disappointment. “You were stupid and ruined your own hand. Now you’re taking it out on Grace?” Grace lowered her head, her shoulders shaking. “Oliver, stop. I won’t paint. I shouldn’t have asked…” I watched them play this duet and suddenly felt it was all so absurd. That day of the fire, I did run back in. But not to save a dog. I went back to save the engineering blueprints and confidential data drive Oliver kept in the safe in his study. It was for the multi-billion dollar project he was leading. If it burned, years of his hard work would be gone. He might even face massive compensation claims and jail time. I charged into the flames, found that fireproof box, and held it tightly. When the beam came down, I instinctively raised my right hand to block it. My hand broke. The hard drive was saved. And Oliver? He was outside, holding Grace’s cat, frantic and spinning in circles, shouting Grace’s name. Later, when they rescued me, before I passed out from the pain, I shoved that scorching-hot hard drive into his arms. But he was only concerned with checking if Grace was hurt. He didn’t even notice what I’d given him. That project later landed him on the cover of Forbes. He still thought I’d run in to save a dog that wasn’t even trapped inside. “So that’s what you think,” I said quietly, looking at him. “Isn’t it?” Oliver countered. “Losing a hand over a dog. Jasmine, that’s the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” I didn’t explain. What would be the point? Tell him the truth so he’d feel guilty? The Oliver of today didn’t deserve my truth. I stood up and walked to the study door, pushing it open. Half of it was already empty. What remained were rare medical texts I hadn’t had time to deal with yet. I walked over and picked up a first-edition microsurgical atlas-a gift from Matthew. “Fine.” I turned around and, right in front of them, threw the book into the recycling box. “You’re right. I really don’t need it anymore.” I picked up another book. Threw it. One after another. Heavy volumes thudded into the box with dull sounds. Oliver watched me, frowning deeper and deeper. He seemed about to say something but ultimately just snorted. “You should’ve done this earlier. No need to make everything ugly.” Grace ran over happily, hugging Oliver’s arm. “Thank you, Oliver! Jasmine’s so nice!” I threw the last book in and brushed the dust off my hands. “It’s cleared out. You two can use it however you want.” In this house, the space that belonged to me was shrinking. Good. That way, when I left, there’d be nothing to miss.

Jasmine POV Late that night, my phone rang. Oliver was in the shower. I answered. A voice, mechanically altered, came through. “Ms. Jasmine? I’m calling regarding your application to Project ‘Sentinel.’” I glanced toward the bathroom and lowered my own voice. “Speaking.” “We’ve reviewed your profile. Your expertise aligns with our needs. Specifically, your research on viral occlusion pathways is precisely what’s required in the current West African outbreak.” He paused, his tone turning serious. “However, I am obligated to inform you this is a classified, high-risk deployment. Acceptance requires the termination of your current legal identity. For a decade or more, you will have no contact with the outside world. The environment is hostile, the virus volatile, and the mortality rate is significant.” “I understand,” I answered calmly. “I’ve studied the relevant materials. I have new insights into the transmission routes and blockage mechanisms of the R-type virus. If given the opportunity, I’m confident I can crack it.” I recited a string of technical terms fluidly, a kind of confidence I hadn’t felt in years. Silence lingered on the other end for a few seconds. Clearly, they hadn’t expected my grasp of the project to be so thorough. “Excellent. We would be glad to have you.” The recruiter’s voice held a note of respect. “However, due to the project’s sensitive nature, we require one more document beyond your personal application. We need a signed high-risk mission informed consent and liability waiver from your legal spouse. It’s a procedural requirement to prevent any future legal claims from family members.” My fingers tightened around the phone. Spousal signature. It was the biggest hurdle. “Understood. I’ll take care of it.” “Time is critical. Please proceed quickly. A special transport will pass through your city soon. We’ll contact you then.” “Got it.” I hung up. The sound of water in the bathroom had just stopped. Oliver came out drying his hair. Seeing me standing there, he asked offhandedly, “Who was that?” “Insurance telemarketer,” I lied without missing a beat. Oliver scoffed. “Who’d sell you insurance now? Everyone knows your primary earning capacity is gone. No job. No ability to repay.” He walked to the fridge for water, noticing I was still standing there. His gaze darkened. “Still haven’t given up? Still scrambling around like a headless fly looking for work?” He’d clearly overheard a fragment or two. “With your hand like that, what hospital insurance would cover you?” He took a sip of water, his tone cold. “Jasmine, you need to learn to accept reality. Stay home obediently and take care of my and Grace’s daily needs. I won’t treat you badly.” I looked at him, my gaze like I was looking at a complete stranger. This was the man who once vowed before a priest to support my dreams. Now his only dream was to keep me here, in this small world, as his permanent housekeeper. “Yeah,” I smiled faintly. “There really is no place for me here anymore.” Oliver paused and looked back at me, as if searching my words for a hidden meaning. But he quickly interpreted it as me complaining that no one would hire me. “Good that you finally understand.” He set his glass down with a sharp click. “Then stop making trouble. Settle in.” He turned and walked upstairs, leaving me with nothing but the cold line of his back. His “no place” meant the world outside had no use for a damaged woman. My “no place” meant there was no room left for me inside this house, inside this marriage. I needed that signature. I had to get it.

Jasmine POV Three days. Time was tight. God seemed to be helping me make the decision. The rain hadn’t stopped these past few days. On rainy days, my hand hurt terribly-nerve endings shooting with pain, like electric currents running through them. That evening, Oliver sat on the sofa peeling an apple for Grace. He peeled it meticulously, leaving no trace of skin, then sliced it into delicate pieces and fed them to Grace. “Is it sweet?” he asked gently. “Yes.” Grace smiled sweetly. “Oliver’s apples are always the sweetest.” I sat on the single sofa across the room, a cold sweat breaking over me from the pain, my face bleached of color. I wanted water, but the kettle was on the other end of the coffee table, near Oliver. “Pour me some water,” I said, my voice a bit hoarse.Oliver didn’t even look up. “The kettle’s right next to you. Pour it yourself. Can’t you see I’m busy?” Busy feeding Grace apple slices. I gritted my teeth and reached out with my left hand for the kettle. Because my right hand was trembling from pain, half my body was shaking. My hand had just touched the kettle handle when it slipped. The stainless steel kettle tipped over. Scalding water spilled out, pouring directly onto the back of my hand. I gasped. The skin instantly turned bright red over a large area. Oliver was startled by the noise and jumped to his feet. His first instinct was to shield Grace. “Did it get you?” Grace shook her head and pointed at me. “Jasmine got burned.” Only then did Oliver turn to look at me. Seeing my swollen hand, his brow immediately knotted into a tight frown. “What’s wrong with you?” Instead of showing concern, his face was full of reproach. “You can’t even pour water without making a mess. How useless have you become?” I said nothing. I grabbed a few tissues with my left hand and pressed them against the burn. It hurt. A burning, searing pain mixed with nerve pain. It made me clearheaded. “Enough. Stop playing the victim.” Seeing my silence, Oliver assumed I was seeking sympathy. “There’s burn ointment in the medicine cabinet. Put it on yourself. You’re a doctor-do you need someone to teach you this?” With that, he settled back to fussing over Grace. “Don’t be frightened. Jasmine’s just clumsy these days. It’s nothing.” I looked at my swollen hand. The last ember in my heart went cold. I’d thought that if he showed even a shred of care, the smallest amount, I might still waver. But now, there was no need. I stood up. I didn’t reach for the burn cream. I walked to the bedroom and took out the folder I’d prepared long ago. Inside lay a draft of divorce papers. And tucked between them, that informed consent form. I was going to use his impatience, his coldness, to buy my freedom.

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After the sexual assault, my husband Adrian Sterling stood by me, urging me to heal and move on. Seven years later, after the miscarriage, he handed me divorce papers. “Laura, Mira is pregnant. Let’s get divorced.” Mira was a poor student he’d sponsored, the same one who’d caused my miscarriage. When I didn’t speak, he went on. “The truth is, for seven years, every night I’ve lain next to you, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen them on you. I can’t control the disgust. Maybe losing the child was…a mercy.” I smiled bitterly. So that’s what he saw. But he didn’t know I’d been “assaulted” to save him. He also didn’t know I’d implanted a memory chip in his brain. In three days, the chip would fail. And when it did, he would remember everything. Then he would die. Adrian spread out the agreement. “I’m leaving you the house and ten million. It’s enough to live on for a lifetime.” I set the papers aside. He hadn’t mentioned Stellar Group-our joint venture. He clearly intended to keep it. “I need time to think about it,” I said. Adrian frowned. “Laura, don’t make this difficult. I’ve been more than fair.” “Don’t worry, I’ll sign.” I forced a smile. “But the day after tomorrow is our tenth wedding anniversary. At least have dinner with me.” Adrian paused, then said helplessly. “Laura, why put yourself through this? I promised Mira I’d take her to the clinic the day after tomorrow. If you really need to make it a condition, I’ll make time to come back.” He thought I was clinging on. Just then, Mira called. “Adrian, my stomach feels a little off. I think the baby misses you too much.” Adrian’s expression softened instantly. “Alright, I’ll come stay with you now.” I watched him leave and remembered when he called me his safe harbor. Now, this home had become a harbor he couldn’t wait to flee. Afterward, I made two phone calls. One to my lawyer, asking him to draft a stock transfer agreement. The other to a moving company. To remove everything belonging to Adrian. That night, he didn’t come home, as expected. Mira sent me a photo of him shirtless, sleeping soundly. Fresh kiss marks on his chest. “See? Only with me can he be uninhibited and show his wild side.” “It’s so hard for him to hold back with you. He wants sex even though I’m pregnant.” Once, seeing these would have made me break down completely. I’d gone crazy cutting up his long-sleeved pajamas. Asking him over and over why he was hiding from me. But now, I just calmly saved the messages and turned off my phone. I understood clearly. Under mine and Adrian’s leadership, Stellar Group now had a market value in the billions. Our joint assets alone were worth nearly a billion, not to mention our status in the business community. Now, my goal was crystal clear. I wanted all the money and power.

The next day, I went to the memory chip laboratory. Ironically, the lab’s director, River, was the poor student Adrian had initially refused to sponsor. Back when our company was just getting on its feet with limited funds. Adrian said he saw his past self in Mira and insisted on sponsoring her, refusing to sponsor River instead. But I privately funded a lab for River. After Adrian’s incident, River worked non-stop for a month to develop that memory chip for me. Meanwhile, Mira chose to climb into Adrian’s bed. “Laura, the chip implanted in Mr. Adrian’s brain will fail in less than 48 hours, but the data isn’t ideal.” River pushed his glasses up, his eyes showing concern. “When we first implanted the chip, I told you that forcibly extending its lifespan would cause irreversible neurological damage to Mr. Adrian.” He thought I was still the person who would do anything to save Adrian’s life. He didn’t realize I’d changed. “Let nature take its course.” I closed the report without asking another question. River froze. “Laura, actually I have a backup plan…” “No need.” I stood up and grabbed my bag. “Just keep the data safe.” Downstairs, Adrian called, asking me to accompany him to our alma mater Riverside University for a ceremony that afternoon. “We’ve attended together every year. I don’t want gossip before we’re officially divorced.” I knew he was protecting Mira’s reputation. After graduating from Riverside University, she’d become a teacher there with Adrian’s help. Rumors about them had been circulating for a while. But I didn’t expose it. After all, I didn’t want complications at this point. At the school, when Mira saw me, she showed none of yesterday’s malice. Instead, she clutched her stomach nervously. “Laura, you came.” In front of Adrian, she always acted cautious and careful. And he fell for it every time. Even when Mira pushed me down and caused my miscarriage, he thought I was the one making things difficult for her. Just like now, he immediately stepped in front of her. “Laura, you’re a rational person. Don’t disappoint me.” He was warning me. I smirked. “Excuse me.” I pushed past him and took my seat. Adrian froze, clearly not expecting me to be so calm. “Laura, you…” Before he could finish, Mira interrupted. “Laura, what happened last time was my fault.” She spoke meaningfully. “To apologize, I’ve prepared a special surprise for you today.” It wasn’t until she went on stage to give graduation guidance to students that I understood what her “surprise” was. She played a video. Claiming it was AI-generated, adapted from a kidnapping case in Seattle years ago. A girl blinded by vanity was lured overseas, tortured, and ultimately became a plaything for men. Every frame focused on that terrified, agonized face. The ragged gasps, the raw screams… Though no explicit skin was shown, the entire venue erupted. Because the face on the screen was mine.

The year Adrian was kidnapped, the company was going public and couldn’t afford any negative news. I could only suppress the information. I spent all my savings to rescue him. But I didn’t expect that under that kind of torture, he’d gone mad. Physical injuries could heal, but psychological trauma couldn’t be cured even with hypnosis. After Adrian’s ninety-ninth suicide attempt failed, River proposed the memory chip to me. It could forcibly alter that memory segment. And wouldn’t be affected by any emotions or events. But that painful experience still needed to be healed, so that when the chip failed, Adrian wouldn’t continue seeking death. So I chose to sacrifice myself. Because I believed love could overcome everything. But facts proved that Adrian not only found it disgusting-he turned it into a knife to stab me with at any time. When the video finished, Mira’s gaze swept toward me meaningfully. “I’m showing this video today hoping women will learn from it, understand how to protect themselves and maintain boundaries.” After the ceremony ended, as Mira approached, Adrian frowned. “Mira, that was too risky.” Mira looked innocent. “Adrian, I admire Laura’s courage, so I wanted to make her an example for the students.” Then she put on a show of concern for me. “Laura, I worked hard on this video to inspire you, to help you move past what happened and stop dragging people down.” Adrian’s eyes filled with affection. “You’re just too kind.” Then he looked at me. “Laura, Mira means well. Be gracious about it.” I looked at him coldly. “Do you know what impact this video will have on me once it gets out?” “What impact could it have?” Adrian suddenly became impatient. “You can’t hide it forever, can you?” “Besides, Mira said the video was computer-generated and didn’t name anyone. Even if people talk, just don’t connect yourself to it. Stop making a scene!” So in his view, this humiliation was self-inflicted. “Fine.” I didn’t continue arguing. Instead, I smiled at Adrian. “But I hope you won’t regret this.” With that, I left under his stunned gaze. The rumors came faster than I’d imagined. As if orchestrated, within an afternoon, various versions spread online. My face was edited into all kinds of obscene videos and turned into memes spread everywhere. With my identity exposed and the video’s deliberately misleading text. I received endless abuse and humiliation. “So the boss lady of Stellar Group was ruined years ago, no wonder she hasn’t had kids all these years” “Poor Adrian, so handsome but the honest guy stuck cleaning up the mess” “She sounded like she was enjoying it, where’s the pain” The group’s stock price fluctuated as a result. The next day, the board of directors suspended my position. Adrian called me, all business. “Laura, Stellar Group didn’t get where it is today easily. We can’t let it be destroyed because of your indiscretions.” He’d completely forgotten this was all Mira’s doing. “Don’t worry, as long as you sign, I’ll give you the compensation you deserve.” I gripped the phone tightly. “Your so-called compensation means stepping on my reputation to kick me out, forcing me to sign the divorce papers.” Adrian was silent for a moment. “Laura, don’t blame me.” He didn’t deny it. “Mira is innocent and insecure. If we continue working together, she won’t be able to handle it.” “I just want to protect my family.” He still didn’t know his so-called family was on a countdown. Only ten hours until the chip failed. And at this moment, media outlets exposed photos of Adrian taking Mira to her prenatal checkup.

That night, Adrian didn’t come home. When the lawyer sent over the drafted stock agreement, he asked if I wanted to pursue legal action for the online harassment from the past few days. “Collect the evidence first. We’ll settle all accounts together later.” Calculating the time, it was almost here. Then the lawyer brought up the child in Mira’s belly. “According to current law, illegitimate children have inheritance rights. Ms. Ye, should we take some measures?” “No need.” I’d never taken the child in Mira’s belly seriously. After all, how could someone who lost their ability to reproduce seven years ago possibly have a child? Adrian’s counterattack came later than I’d expected. Six hours after the photos went viral, he suddenly held a press conference. And had someone bring me to the scene. In front of the live cameras and a barrage of media, he openly held Mira in his arms. Claiming we’d agreed to divorce six months ago. Originally he didn’t want to use public resources for private matters, but he didn’t expect that because of yesterday’s incident, I’d blame Mira and try to have her hurt. “Though Mira is a student I sponsored, she’s excellent. She became an outstanding teacher at Riverside University on her own merit and is very positive, giving me the confidence to find true love again.” “So I can’t let her suffer this kind of injustice.” Mira timely raised her injured face, staring straight at me. “Laura, you know I’m carrying Adrian’s child. Why are you so cruel?” This single statement made me the target of everyone’s criticism. Adrian looked disappointed. “Laura, you clearly understand the pain of being hurt, yet you’re destroying an innocent person because of your own trauma. I can’t let you keep making mistakes.” With that, he released various reports from my years of seeing psychologists. Trying to brand me as mentally unstable. At this point, I finally understood how ruthless his heart could be. And there were only five minutes left until the chip failed. Netizens praised Adrian as a genuine, good man and hailed Mira for her courage. I faced only the bile. The media also turned their cameras on me. “Adrian has stated that you struggle with mental instability. Can you confirm this?” “The divorce was finalized six months ago. Why are you still fixated on him?” “Sources say you attempted to sabotage Mira. Was this a psychotic break, or are you truly that malicious?” To completely nail me to the pillar of shame, Adrian also pulled out a USB drive. Saying it could prove how sick I was. Thinking back to the drive here, River had mentioned the lab was broken into that evening. Though nothing was stolen, the core video file had been copied. I knew Adrian’s plan at once. “You really want to play that here?” Adrian hesitated. Mira took over. “Laura, I know you don’t want the past seen. But sometimes facing it openly is the only way to heal.” That erased Adrian’s last doubt. “Laura, You shouldn’t have pushed me this far.” With that, Adrian had his assistant play it on the big screen. My pain, my humiliation, there for everyone to see. The room froze. Only Adrian stumbled back, clutching his head. “Ah!” His chip had failed.

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The movie had been playing for ten minutes, but my boyfriend Julian still hadn’t shown up. I was about to call him when my phone buzzed. I saw his childhood friend Lydia messaging him in their gaming group chat: “Julian, we agreed to play together tonight.” The next second, Julian replied: “Okay! I’m coming right now!” I didn’t argue with him. Instead, I turned off my phone, bought some popcorn, and walked into the theater alone. After the movie ended, I found Julian had called me over a dozen times, along with one text message: “Tonight’s game is really important to Lydia! I promise I’ll go to the movies with you tomorrow, okay?” I didn’t reply. My tomorrow didn’t need him anymore. When Julian came home, I was sitting on the couch playing a game. “I bought you roses. Do you like them?” He half-knelt on the floor, holding out a bouquet to appease me. I barely glanced at him. “Thanks.” Seeing I didn’t seem angry, he let out a long breath and hummed a tune as he turned on the TV to watch entertainment news. I paused my game, cleaned up the takeout containers, stood up and headed toward the kitchen. As I passed the trash can, I casually tossed the flowers in. His face stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I explained simply: “I’m allergic to pollen.” I’d been hospitalized twice because of pollen allergies. He’d actually forgotten. Before, when we fought, he’d bring me roses and I’d accept them all. Looking back now, I was so stupid. Julian looked a bit embarrassed and tried to recover: “I’ll get you a different gift next time, okay? By the way, I’m hungry.” “There are chips on the table.” I yawned, preparing to head to my room to sleep. Julian froze. His face showed disbelief. “You’re not going to cook me pasta? I want your meat sauce pasta! You used to say chips weren’t healthy.” I stopped in my tracks and said seriously: “Having them once or twice won’t hurt. Besides, your stomach is fine.” Julian was left speechless. He used to be a professional e-sports player, now he’s a coach. Because of training, he often couldn’t eat on time, so naturally his stomach suffered. That’s why I learned to cook and made him good food. But once, when I brought him soup at the training room, I discovered all the food I’d made for him had been given to Lydia. That time I was really angry. I cried and made a scene. Julian just quietly watched me lose it. Only after I’d cried myself out did he pull me into his arms. “Lydia and I are just friends. Scarlett, you’re two years older than me—can’t you be more mature about this? It’s just a lunch box. My stomach is fine, I can eat anything.” Julian frowned, looked me up and down, then suddenly let out a mocking laugh: “I get that you’re upset I didn’t go to the movie. But you left our gaming group without a word—do you know how awkward that made Lydia look as the group admin?” I left a group chat and somehow that made Lydia lose face? I immediately countered: “I don’t know anyone in that group anyway. What’s wrong with leaving?” With that, I headed toward my room. But his expression changed, and he blocked me at the doorway. “When you left the group, Lydia had just asked me to play. People who don’t know better might think she ruined our relationship and made you so angry you left.” Now I really couldn’t help but laugh. So he was afraid Lydia would be labeled as the other woman. “I’ll clarify it.” I said impatiently. “That’s not what I meant…” He tried to explain. But I pushed him out and locked the bedroom door.

Of course Julian wouldn’t sleep on the couch. The last time he slept on the couch was before his retirement. I’d stayed up all night with him during training. I fell asleep on his single bed watching a movie in the middle of the night. Not wanting to wake me, he tiptoed over and squeezed himself onto a single sofa for the whole night. I told him to get a bigger bed. He just smiled and tapped my nose: “Nice try—you’re not managing me twenty-four hours a day.” Now the training room has a king-size bed. When I asked why, he shrugged and said: “Lydia sometimes rests here after hosting competitions. The small bed wasn’t comfortable for her.” His straightforward attitude left me speechless. He didn’t even realize that he’d instinctively started putting Lydia before everything else. Julian hadn’t been home for three days. But his social media was full of his activities. He was back to hanging out at racing tracks and bars, in his element. He’d posted more in three days than in the previous six months combined. Scrolling down, I saw Lydia’s Instagram post. In the photo, Julian wore a racing suit, his arm around Lydia’s waist, smiling as he held up a trophy. The caption read: [Boys will be boys—what a big baby] The two of them looked exactly like a couple in love, sharing their joy. I casually liked the post. Then I took a cab to the office and submitted my resignation. My manager was shocked. “Why are you suddenly quitting?” She knew how hard I’d worked to get where I was. From an industry rookie to somewhat established, I’d built my network and resources through countless late nights. Sometimes I even had to drink with clients. I didn’t actually like this industry. But I persevered, partly because this job helped Julian’s career, and partly because I wanted to save money while I was young. As the manager signed the papers, she teased: “I heard your family all lives abroad. Are you going back to get married?” I shook my head with a smile. “I just miss home.” Back then, I’d ignored my family’s objections and stubbornly chased love to a foreign land. Turns out I’d lost the bet. When my colleagues learned I was leaving, they insisted on a farewell dinner. I couldn’t refuse, so I smiled and said I’d treat them. I just didn’t expect to run into Julian and Lydia at the restaurant. Fortunately, they were leaving just as we arrived. When we passed each other, Julian’s eyes swept over me coldly, then he smiled and put his arm around Lydia’s shoulder. “Come on, let me introduce you to car bombs.” Surprise flashed across Lydia’s face as she looked at me with a challenging expression. She deliberately leaned close to Julian’s ear and laughed sweetly. “Aren’t you afraid Scarlett will get upset again?” Julian sneered. “Like she has any say?” I listened to their footsteps fade away and breathed a sigh of relief. This was for the best—avoiding awkwardness. That night I had a great time chatting with my colleagues. By the time we finished, it was past midnight. I was about to call a cab when a familiar Porsche Panamera stopped in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Julian’s grim face. “Get in.” I was both surprised and exasperated—drunk driving is illegal! He saw right through my thoughts and yelled irritably: “Out drinking with a bunch of guys until midnight—Scarlett, you’re something else.” “I haven’t been drinking. Just get in the car!” It was indeed hard to get a cab at this hour. I wasn’t going to be stubborn, so I plopped into the back seat. After getting in, I closed my eyes to rest. When I rolled down the window for some air, I realized the car was still parked. I opened my eyes to meet Julian’s very complicated expression. “Scarlett, do you think I’m your chauffeur?” I paused, then spoke without thinking. “Didn’t you say before that I don’t get carsick, so I should just sit in the back?”

I’m not really one to bring up the past, especially since I was planning to break up anyway. But his righteous accusation, as if I was truly rude, made me fire back sarcastically. The passenger seat had briefly belonged to me once. After Lydia moved, Julian started “conveniently” giving her rides to and from work. She got terrible motion sickness. Julian shot me a look: “Scarlett, you don’t get carsick. Go sit in the back.” I felt a lump in my throat, my nose stinging. “Why should I? I’m not going.” From then on, he left early every day to avoid me, afraid I’d try to catch a ride. I took a breath and closed my eyes again. “If you’re not driving, unlock the door. I’ll get a cab.” I heard a helpless sigh, and the car started moving. After we got home, Julian rubbed his temples, looking exhausted. “Scarlett, can we stop this?” All I wanted was a hot bath. I answered absently, “Fine.” But he suddenly became agitated. “Lydia and I really are just friends. She said she’d never tried racing, so I took her.” “I know.” I stood in front of the closet, internally debating whether to use a bath sponge or bath salts this time. He seemed lost. “Then why haven’t you been replying to my messages?” I pretended not to hear and walked into the bathroom. It turned out that after I’d learned from him and muted his notifications, he’d sent me so many messages. [I went to the bar because you locked your bedroom door. I can’t exactly sleep on the floor, can I?] [I’ve decided—I’m never giving up my love of racing for you again] [I was joking, Scarlett, don’t take it seriously] [Not replying to my messages now? That’s real mature] [I’m waiting to pick you up after you’re done. Scarlett, I give up…] Thinking back to the day at the movies, waiting endlessly without a single message from him, I suddenly understood. When he cared about me, he couldn’t bear to miss a single message. He’d watch the chat window all day, just waiting for one reply from me. Julian used to find me annoying and muted my notifications. But he couldn’t bring himself to mute that very active gaming group. No wonder when Lydia messaged him in the group, he could reply instantly. After my bath, I felt a bit awkward. There was only one bedroom with a bed in the apartment. If I broke up with him right now, I’d have nowhere to sleep tonight. Julian seemed even more conflicted than me. He looked at me, opened his mouth, hesitated. His phone rang. It was Lydia calling. He anxiously answered, and the girl’s crying voice came through faintly. After hanging up, he pressed his lips together. “Lydia’s in trouble, right? Don’t waste time—go ahead.” His tense nerves relaxed. “Scarlett, it’s her first car accident. She doesn’t know how to handle it. I’ll just go help out.” “Really, don’t overthink it, please. I’m begging you, okay?” He naturally reached out to hug me. I froze in place, barely stopping myself from pushing him away hard. Fortunately, his mind was entirely on worrying about Lydia. He didn’t notice these small details and left immediately. Before bed, I removed Julian from my pinned conversations. He kept sending messages intermittently. The latest one read: [The hospital won’t let me leave, says I need to be the guardian. I’ll go shopping with you tomorrow…] I didn’t read the rest. I tossed my phone aside and fell asleep.

Julian’s “tomorrow” would never come. After my resignation was smoothly processed, I moved in with my best friend. Late at night, I ordered a bunch of fried chicken, and we curled up on the couch watching a horror movie. Just before the jump scare, I immediately started scrolling on my phone. I saw Lydia’s Instagram post and froze. In the photo, Julian had his sleeves rolled up, offering a peeled apple to a white-haired elderly woman. Lydia was leaning against him. The post’s caption read: [Grandma, I finally found a man who loves me! Look how handsome he is!] What was interesting were the comments below: [If Scarlett finds out Julian is pretending to be Lydia’s boyfriend, won’t she flip out?] [Don’t be jealous, Scarlett—Julian can’t live without you.] These two were his former teammates. They’d always looked down on me, thinking I was too controlling, too old, not good enough for Julian. Julian had let them mock and ridicule me more than once. He always just laughed it off: “They’re just joking. You know I can’t live without you.” Turns out that dismissive comfort had become their inside joke to mock me. “What are you looking at?” Amber tapped my shoulder. Startled, I let her snatch my phone away. She instantly turned red with anger. “Julian, that bastard! I’m going to kill him!” She immediately called Julian. He didn’t answer. “Forget it, forget it. I don’t like him anymore anyway.” I wasn’t heartbroken anymore. My eyes just felt a little sore. Amber sighed and helped me block Julian on both phone and social media. “I just feel like you deserved better.” There was no “deserving” about it. Seeing this relationship clearly now wasn’t too late. Amber’s emotions came and went quickly. When the delivery arrived, she still wanted to play rock-paper-scissors with me to see who’d get the door. “You’re cheating!” I said with a laugh. I pulled open the door, and the smile froze on my face. Outside stood Julian, looking weathered and haggard. I was about to close the door when he braced it open with one hand, his eyes red as he asked hoarsely: “Scarlett, you quit your job secretly and blocked me?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “354831”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn

My twin sister Kayla inherited my dad’s asthma. When I was eight, my father died suddenly from an asthma attack, and my mother poured all her attention into Kayla. Mom would always lecture me earnestly: “Kayla is sick. You’re the older sister—you need to take care of her.” But even though I was the older sister, I was only three minutes older than my younger sister. At twenty years old, the moment I got home, Mom slapped me across the face for no reason. Kayla, clutching her chest with a pale face, leaned against the doorframe. Mom pointed at a bouquet of carnations on the table and scolded me harshly. “You know Kayla can’t handle pollen, and you still brought flowers home!” She slapped me again. Then she helped the gasping Kayla walk out the door. I tried to follow them, but suddenly felt my throat constrict and couldn’t breathe. It turned out that during last month’s physical exam, the doctor said I might have asthma too. The cake in my hands fell to the floor. I curled up on the ground in agony, my consciousness gradually fading. Mom, the carnations are paper. The birthday cake is for you. But I don’t want to love you anymore.

Today was a special day. Having finished work early, I rushed home anxiously. Opening the door, I was met with Mom’s unquestioning slap. “Julia Hayes! What did you do to make Kayla sick again!” “How many times do I have to tell you! In this house, Kayla comes first! Don’t you ever understand?” I stood frozen in disbelief, my cheek swelling high, a piercing pain spreading along with an unspeakable suffocation. Mom carefully protected my sister in her arms. My sister’s eyes stared straight at me, carrying emotions I couldn’t understand. “Mom, Mom, I feel terrible! So terrible!” I snapped back to reality and instinctively moved forward to help. Even though she’d never been close to me all these years, there was still some inexplicable hope in my heart. After all, she was my sister. “Are you trying to hurt Kayla again?!” Mom raised her hand to block me. The momentum sent me crashing heavily to the side. I hit the door handle. Blood seeped from my forehead. But Mom only looked at my trembling sister, coaxing her gently. “Don’t be afraid. Mom called an ambulance. We’ll take you to the hospital right away.” Then she hurriedly carried her on her back and rushed out the door without looking at me again. “I’ll settle accounts with you when I get back! Throw out those damn flowers right now!” But Mom, the red carnations on the coffee table weren’t real flowers. They were everlasting flowers I painstakingly folded from tissues. Because of my sister’s asthma, you hadn’t received flowers once in twenty years. I just wanted you to receive a bouquet of your own flowers on your birthday… The pain in my body and the suffocating sensation in my throat surged over me. I sprawled awkwardly on the ground, gasping for air in large gulps. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Ever since I mysteriously broke out in hives all over my body last month, I’d occasionally have moments when I couldn’t catch my breath. The doctor’s diagnosis wasn’t a simple allergy. He suggested I do specialized tests and didn’t rule out the possibility of asthma. Because I didn’t want to worry my family, I’d planned to wait until the end of the month for the test results before deciding what to do. I never expected… “Mom… don’t…” In the mess of cream on the floor, I reached out with difficulty toward their gradually disappearing backs, my voice weak and hoarse. Don’t go, Mom. Happy birthday.

My heart raced frantically. I felt breathing becoming increasingly difficult. The instinct to survive made me use all my strength to crawl toward the door. “Help… save… save me…” The neighbors across the hall were still there. It was dinnertime—they must be home. But just as I was about to knock on the door, I completely lost my strength. Curled up on the ground, images from the past twenty years in this house suddenly flashed through my mind. Ever since I could remember, I’d noticed that my sister was different from other people’s sisters. Not because of her genetic disease, but because she wasn’t close to me. Other sisters were intimately close and shared everything, but my sister didn’t like me. She even detested me. From childhood, Mom had constantly lectured me to accommodate my sister in everything and take care of her. She always told me, “Julia, you’re the older sister. You’re Mom’s most well-behaved and sensible child. You need to take good care of your sister.” When I was nine, I persisted for a whole month and finally completed the task the teacher assigned of memorizing ancient poems. I excitedly brought home a potted plant as my prize, wanting to tell Mom about it and have her praise me. But she just angrily smashed the plant on the floor, shattering my hopes along with it. “What’s wrong with you, Julia? Plant mold can trigger Kayla’s asthma! Are you doing this on purpose?!” “No, the teacher gave this to me as a reward…” “Still making excuses! Go stand in the corner and think about what you did. You’re not eating until you figure it out!” Mom carried my sister into the bedroom, leaving me alone to clean up the mess on the floor. My tears of grievance dripped into the wet soil. After that, no plants were ever allowed in the house again. Even the dance I’d loved since childhood—just because my sister said: “When my sister dances, my heart races and I can’t breathe.” Mom threw away the red dance shoes Dad had given me. “You can’t dance anymore from now on.” I stared wide-eyed in shock, unable to believe it. Why could my sister play the piano she loved, but I couldn’t dance what I loved? “Piano cultivates temperament and calms the mind. It’s good for stabilizing emotions.” “Julia, you’re the older sister. You need to be understanding. Kayla can’t be stimulated. Give in to her a little!” No! Why?! This isn’t fair! “I’m sorry, Mom. It’s my body that’s not good enough. Don’t blame Julia.” Kayla Hayes cried so hard she could barely breathe, looking utterly pitiful. Mom’s heart ached. She kept patting her back and no longer cared about my reaction. From then on, I was no longer allowed to dance. But Kayla sat on the piano bench in the living room, her fingers flying across the keys, melodious notes pouring out. I sat slumped on the floor, listening in a daze. It was “Canon”—such a happy melody, yet I felt only sadness.

After losing my dream, Mom said I’d grown up and could better take care of my sister. To prevent Kayla from suddenly falling ill, I gradually learned to prepare water at 37 degrees, check her temperature three times daily, turn the air purifier on and off on schedule, carry an inhaler with me at all times… She was like a fragile porcelain doll. If she so much as coughed once, Mom would become tense with nerves. She’d blame me for not taking good care of my sister, for not shouldering my responsibilities as the older sister. Gradually, I became quieter and quieter. But Mom started praising me for becoming more like a proper older sister. Just when I thought my sister’s condition was stabilizing and life would slowly improve— Kayla suddenly said she wanted to take a walk in the nearby park. Mom disagreed, afraid that crowded spaces with bad air would make it hard for her to breathe. “Just let me go, Mom. Julia will come too. Nothing will happen.” Kayla shook Mom’s arm, acting adorably coy. I watched quietly from the side, unsure what she was trying to do. “Besides going to school, I can only stay cooped up at home. It’s so boring. Just let me go out for a walk~” Mom eventually softened and agreed to her request, ordering me to take good care of my sister. I obediently took Kayla out and accompanied her as she walked around the small park. This used to be my little sanctuary. Whenever I felt unhappy, I’d come here and stay for a while. Looking at the tall trees, bright flowers, cheerful birds, and playing children. Kayla wove through the crisscrossing paths, extremely excited. Seeing the upturned corners of her mouth—she was genuinely happy—I felt relieved for the first time in a long while. My sister must just have been cooped up at home too long, which was why she wasn’t close to me. Seeing her walk toward the flower beds, my heart tightened. I quickly caught up with her. “Kayla, don’t go over there!” Before we even reached the flower beds, my sister suddenly collapsed on the ground. I held her as she coughed violently and frantically searched for medicine in my backpack. “Don’t panic, don’t panic. Come on, take a deep breath—” “Kayla?!” Just as I was fumbling to guide my sister through relieving her symptoms, Mom’s shocked voice exploded in my ears. A sharp pain shot through my shoulder. The next second, I was pushed away. “Julia Hayes! Explain to me what’s going on right now!” “Kayla’s condition has been so stable recently. How did she have an attack the moment she went out with you? What did you let her come into contact with?!” Yes, her condition had been under control. I’d been so careful watching her too. What could have caused this? Enduring the pain in my shoulder, I finally found the inhaler. Mom snatched it away and pressed it to Kayla’s face, which was red from coughing. Before long, the ambulance arrived. I wanted to go with them, but Mom pushed me off. “You can’t even watch one person properly. You disappoint me so much.” The vehicle roared away. Where they’d left, I picked up a pink wild rose. Looking at the stem clearly snapped by fingernails, and remembering the triumphant curve of Kayla’s mouth before we left— I couldn’t help but smile bitterly, my heart growing desolate.

My body grew colder and colder. I couldn’t help but shiver. One hand instinctively reached for my neck, but found only emptiness. I remembered then—the longevity lock Dad had given me had long been taken away by Mom because of my sister. When my sister and I were born, Dad specially carved two longevity locks himself, praying for our health and safety. Originally, my sister and I each wore one around our necks. Later, my sister’s went missing somewhere. Mom was afraid she’d throw a tantrum if she saw mine and worsen her condition, so she simply put mine away too. Out of sight, out of mind. Later, while cleaning, I found the longevity lock again. I secretly took it out and hid it under my pillow, only daring to touch it quietly late at night. Mom gave all her attention and focus to my sister. Only this longevity lock Dad left behind belonged completely to me. Whenever I looked at it, it was as if I could feel Dad gently stroking my head, smiling and saying I was the most like him—quiet and steady. Whenever I lost motivation, this longevity lock gave me endless courage, allowing me to grit my teeth and persevere. But even this one thing, Kayla wouldn’t let me have. “What’s this? It’s so pretty.” She held scissors in one hand and hooked the longevity lock’s chain with the other. “Oh? There are words on it? Let me see…” “‘Julia’? Ha, what a pity!” I panicked and rushed over, but was still a step too late. I could only watch helplessly as she cut the lock to pieces and, as if not satisfied, tore apart the chain in a frenzy. I trembled all over as I picked up the pieces one by one. Mom swept into the room like a whirlwind. “What are you doing to provoke Kayla! Go apologize to her right now! Don’t make me…” Her words suddenly died in my breakdown of tears. “It was her! She destroyed the lock Dad left me! This is the only thing that belongs to me! Why should I apologize?!” “Why are you so biased?! I’m your child too…” She had everything I’d sought but never obtained, effortlessly. Why did she have to take away my only keepsake? Why?! I screamed, unable to stop trembling all over. The fragments dug into my clenched palms, drawing blood. A sharp, dense pain rose in my chest. Mom couldn’t believe that her usually obedient daughter would lose control like this. She froze for a moment. “Julia, this… the floor is cold. Get up first.” Just as her heart softened and she bent down to help the distraught me up, Kayla suddenly screamed. “Ah! Mom! Hhh…” I watched her stiffen for an instant, determination flashing in her eyes. Without hesitation, she got up and rushed toward Kayla, who was clutching her throat. I instantly lost all strength and slumped to the floor, an absurd sense of “of course” rising in my heart. Hobbies, dreams, freedom, love… Gone. Everything was gone. I couldn’t even keep this tiny little lock chain! How pitiful, Julia Hayes. What exactly are you still hoping for?! My hand dropped heavily from my empty neck. My vision grew blurrier. Before my consciousness completely faded, I saw Mrs. Smith’s terrified face.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “354830”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance #重生Reborn