Author: Momo Chan

## I had worked so hard to climb that mountain and get a protection charm from the temple—only for Anthony Sullivan to casually toss it around the neck of the class queen’s pet dog. The sound of laughter echoed all around me as I stood frozen, humiliated. I turned and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind me. “Relax, Anthony,” one of his friends called after me, laughing. “Chloe will come crawling back in under thirty minutes. She always does.” They were wrong. I wasn’t in this for Anthony Sullivan. Not really. I was just trying to collect the beauty points my system had promised me. See, the system gave me two options if I wanted to become beautiful: One, I could “win over” Anthony Sullivan, the school’s golden boy. Or two, I could become a straight-A academic superstar. Being the lazy girl I was, I chose the first option. Who wouldn’t? Flirting seemed a lot less painful than hours of study. But standing there, humiliated by Anthony’s cruelty, I had a revelation. If I had the determination to chase after a guy like him, why couldn’t I put that effort into something meaningful? Why not aim for the top universities in the country instead? And so, I gave up on Anthony and poured everything into preparing for the national academic competition. But just when I was on the verge of winning gold, Anthony couldn’t take it anymore. “You’re doing all of this for him, aren’t you?” he snapped, pointing at the quiet, sharp-eyed boy standing beside me—the academic prodigy he had just punched in a jealous fit. I slapped Anthony across the face. I had already transformed into someone stunning. Men were lining up for me. Why on earth would I waste another second on him? For Anthony’s birthday, I’d gone all out preparing a thoughtful gift: the protection charm from the temple. It hadn’t been easy. I wasn’t exactly athletic, and climbing that mountain had felt like a death sentence. But for Anthony, I pushed through. Halfway up, I was wheezing like an asthmatic goat, ready to collapse. “Come on, Chloe!” the system chirped in my head. “You can’t win Anthony over without that protection charm! And you can’t get your beauty points without winning him over!” The system had a point. So, gritting my teeth, I pushed myself up the trail. When I finally made it to the top, drenched in sweat and on the verge of passing out, I got my charm. Later that evening, I set up the perfect birthday surprise. I decorated the room, arranged a cake, and waited for Anthony and his friends to arrive. The moment they walked in, my heart sank. Next to Anthony stood Katie Harper, the school’s undeniable queen bee. Her hair was immaculate, her makeup flawless, her features strikingly delicate. The two of them looked perfect together. Still, I wasn’t about to back down. “Happy birthday, Anthony,” I said, stepping forward and holding out the charm. “What’s this?” he asked, taking it from me with as much interest as if I’d handed him a napkin. “It’s a protection charm,” Katie chimed in, her voice sweet and melodic. She turned to Anthony, smiling. “Chloe’s so thoughtful. I heard this charm is only available at the temple on top of Redridge Mountain. She must’ve climbed all the way up to get it for you. Isn’t that sweet?” “Wait,” Anthony said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You climbed a mountain for this?” “Well, yeah,” I replied, trying to sound casual. “I heard the temple was really special and…” Before I could finish, Anthony cut me off with a laugh. “Are you serious? You climbed all the way up there for this stupid thing? What, did you think this would make me fall in love with you or something?” I froze. He wasn’t done. “God, Chloe. Do you seriously believe this is some kind of romance movie? Crawling up a mountain for a charm just to prove how much you ‘love’ me? Did you even stop to think if you’re worth it?” The room filled with laughter. “Man, Anthony,” one of his friends jeered. “Looks like you’ve got yourself a real-life stalker!” “Yeah,” another chimed in. “She finally confessed! Took her long enough!” Anthony’s face darkened, and he turned back to me with a look of pure disdain. “You really picked my birthday to pull this pathetic stunt?” he snapped, holding up the charm like it was trash. “Look at yourself in a mirror sometime, Chloe. You actually thought I’d be into you?” I felt my chest tighten, my vision blurring with unshed tears. I had known Anthony might reject me. I had prepared for that. But I hadn’t expected him to humiliate me like this. This was the same Anthony who’d once been kind to me, the same Anthony who had helped me when I was at my lowest. How could he use my insecurities to tear me apart like this? “Anthony, don’t be so harsh,” Katie said, her voice dripping with feigned sympathy. She turned to me with a pitying smile. “Chloe clearly likes you. She must’ve thought you liked her back. I mean, why else would she have the courage to confess in front of everyone?” Her words were like gasoline on a fire. “Like her?” Anthony shouted, his voice rising. “Are you out of your damn mind, Katie? What makes you think I’d ever be interested in her? I’m not blind!” 2. Anthony was so furious that the veins on his forehead were bulging. Just then, Katie’s fluffy chow chow waddled into the crowd, its tail wagging. Katie scooped up the dog and kissed its head affectionately. “Aww, tell Daddy not to be mad anymore. It’s his birthday—he should be happy!” Daddy? Wait, wasn’t that Katie’s dog? And just like that, it all clicked. Anthony had already become the daddy of Katie’s dog. “Come here, Coco,” Anthony said, his anger melting away as he patted the dog’s head gently. So that’s how it was. Anthony treated me worse than a dog. The next thing I saw made my blood boil—he took the protection charm I had painstakingly climbed a mountain to get for him and tied it around the dog’s neck. “Here, you can play with this,” he said casually. “Whoa, Anthony! You just gave your little fangirl’s gift to the dog! She’s gonna lose her mind, man!” one of his friends jeered, laughing hysterically. They weren’t wrong. I was losing my mind. I had sweated and struggled to climb that mountain for hours to get that charm. And now? He’d just turned it into a toy for Katie’s dog. I felt both angry and heartbroken. Sure, I was chasing Anthony because of the beauty system, but my feelings for him had been real. But this? This was like stomping on my pride and grinding it into the dirt. Sure, I wasn’t beautiful, but I had dignity. If Anthony saw me as nothing more than a joke, then why should I waste another second chasing after him? As laughter erupted around me, I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. “She’ll come back,” one of Anthony’s friends said, snickering. “She’s just a little lapdog—give her half an hour, tops.” But they were wrong. That was the moment I decided I would never like Anthony again. He had let me stay in his life, allowed me to orbit around him—not because he appreciated me, but because I was convenient. I wasn’t a person to him. I was a tool. And I’d been stupid enough to let myself believe otherwise. I had thrown him a birthday party. I had bought him a thoughtful gift. I had even confessed my feelings to him in front of everyone. And all I’d gotten in return was humiliation. Katie’s laughter rang out behind me, sharp and grating. Katie Harper—the transfer student who had turned everything upside down from the moment she arrived. Her striking features and hourglass figure had caused quite the stir. With her long, flowing hair and perfectly styled makeup, she had quickly become the girl everyone wanted to be—or be with. Anthony had been distant ever since she showed up. Before she came, he’d still let me hang around his group. I’d run errands for him, but he’d let me stick around and join their conversations. Back then, I’d convinced myself that Anthony wasn’t shallow. That he wasn’t just about looks. After all, he had stood up for me once. When classmates mocked my appearance, Anthony had spoken out. “Do you seriously think it’s funny to bully someone over how they look?” It was Anthony who had pulled me out of a humiliating situation, who had taken me to the nurse’s office after I’d been pushed down and pepper-sprayed by a group of bullies. “Don’t be scared,” he had said at the time, his tone firm but kind. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” That Anthony had given me hope. He had made me believe that maybe, just maybe, I could win him over. But Katie’s arrival had changed everything. 3. I had officially become a full-time errand girl. Anthony didn’t let me linger around him anymore, nor did he invite me to hang out like he used to. He’d make me deliver an umbrella to the basketball court in the middle of a downpour but wouldn’t let me stay and grab dinner with his buddies. He’d have me take my neatly organized class notes to him but wouldn’t ask me to study with him. The teasing from classmates got worse: “Chloe, don’t tell me you actually think Anthony likes you?” “Only someone like Katie—gorgeous, popular, flawless—could ever match him. Give up already.” But I refused to believe them. I stubbornly continued to treat him well. “Chloe, can you grab some cold medicine from the nurse’s office?” I saw Anthony’s message and thought he was sick. Without hesitating, I sprinted to the nurse’s office and bought the medicine. Then I hurried to his classroom to deliver it. “Well, well, Anthony, your little errand girl is here again,” one of his friends jeered. Anthony barely raised an eyebrow as he took the medicine from my hands. “Are you sick, Anthony? Is it serious?” I asked, concerned. His friends burst into laughter. “Anthony, did you hear that? Your little assistant really cares about you!” But Anthony didn’t even acknowledge me. He calmly poured the medicine into a cup, filled it with steaming hot water, and walked out the door. I stood there, stunned, watching him head straight to another classroom—the one Katie was in. “Katie, here, drink this,” he said, handing her the cup. My heart dropped. Anthony wasn’t sick. He’d sent me to get the medicine just so he could give it to her. “Anthony, how could you? I thought you weren’t feeling well…” Katie glanced between Anthony and me, then smiled sweetly. “Oh, Chloe, you got this for me? Thank you so much!” Wait. What? Why was she thanking me? What was their relationship? “Chloe,” Anthony snapped, annoyed, “it’s just some medicine. Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” He rolled his eyes, speaking to me in a tone he never used with Katie. I felt a lump in my throat. He really did like her, didn’t he? “System,” I whispered in my mind, “it looks like Anthony has fallen for Katie…” “Host, would you like to explore an alternative path to becoming beautiful?” I hesitated, unsure of what to do. I trudged back to my own classroom, feeling defeated. As I passed by a window, I caught a reflection of myself. Small eyes, flat nose, protruding mouth, and a wide face. I was hideous. So, that’s why Anthony liked Katie. Because she was pretty. But if he liked me, I’d become beautiful overnight. You see, I wasn’t just an ordinary girl. I was bound to a beauty system. The system had told me there were two paths to becoming beautiful: Win Anthony’s heart. Become a straight-A student. Naturally, I chose the first option. Who wants to bury their head in books when they can chase love instead? Anthony wasn’t just any guy. He was the most handsome guy at school—tall, athletic, charming, and from a well-off family. Most importantly, he’d never mocked me. In fact, he’d once stood up for me. I still remember that day vividly. A group of mean girls had shoved me to the ground and sprayed chili water into my eyes. Anthony had stepped in, pulled me up, and taken me to the nurse’s office. “Making fun of someone’s looks? Real classy,” he’d scolded them. “Don’t worry,” he’d told me, his voice low and comforting. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” 4. His voice was so deep, so soothing, that I could feel my heart pounding in my chest. So when the beauty system appeared, I was overjoyed. It felt like the universe was giving me permission to like Anthony. To become beautiful for the one I loved—it sounded so romantic. Without hesitation, I chose the first path. I’d even daydreamed about the moment Anthony and I got together. Would he be surprised when he realized I’d transformed into a stunning beauty? Would he be happy? But now, after more than a year of chasing him, I’d gotten nowhere. Despite everything I’d done, the system’s progress bar for my beauty hadn’t budged an inch. It was clear—I needed a new strategy. Why waste my time pining after someone who didn’t care about me? Why not aim for something bigger, something better? Like getting into one of the top universities in the country? I summoned the system. “I want to change my approach. I’ll choose the second option.” “Understood. Host has selected the academic path to beauty. If your test scores improve by 30 ranks next month, you’ll receive 10 beauty points.” With a new goal in mind, I felt a surge of motivation. “Study hard, become a straight-A student, and transform into a beauty—let’s go!” When the new week began, I threw myself into my studies. I highlighted anything I didn’t understand and stayed after class to ask the teachers questions. I used every free moment to study, staying glued to my desk during breaks. Anthony and I weren’t even in the same class. If I didn’t go out of my way to see him, we’d have no interaction at all. Maybe he noticed something was off because, after gym class one day, he cornered me in the hallway. “Why haven’t I seen you around lately? Are you mad at me?” he asked. I ignored him. Anthony shifted awkwardly. “Look, what I said on my birthday was harsh, but you have to admit, you were out of line.” Out of line? All I’d done was confess my feelings. Was that really so terrible? I guess it was, if the person on the receiving end didn’t like you. But I didn’t care anymore. Anthony, seeing that I wasn’t responding, started giving me orders again. “I’ve got a basketball game tomorrow. Make sure to bring water and tissues for the whole team.” And with that, he walked off without waiting for my answer. But there was no way I’d do it. I had no time for that nonsense anymore. My focus was on studying now. If I worked hard, I could become both a top student and a beauty. Why hadn’t I realized sooner how great this deal was? Anthony? He could go to hell. 5. The next afternoon, during club activity time, I was still glued to my seat, working through practice problems like a monk in meditation. “Chloe, aren’t you going to watch Anthony’s game today?” my desk mate whispered. I shook my head. “No. I’m done. I won’t be going anymore.” By the time I finished another worksheet, most of the classroom had emptied out. From the open-air basketball court below, I could hear the roar of the crowd, cheers erupting every now and then. But none of that mattered to me anymore. The girl who sat behind me was the top student in class. She was still at her desk, quietly working on her assignments. I glanced at her, then at the blank questions on my own worksheet. “Hey, genius, mind helping me out with this one?” I asked, forcing myself to sound casual. I braced for sarcasm or a snide remark, but none came. She simply took my paper, scanned the question, and began explaining in a calm, gentle voice. To her, I was just another classmate—no different from anyone else in the room. When she finished, I finally understood the problem. It hit me then: connecting with people wasn’t as hard as I’d made it out to be. Not everyone cared about how I looked or judged me for it. So why should I care so much? For the first time, I started enjoying studying. Just as I was diving back into my work, my phone buzzed with a new message. It was Anthony. “Where are you?” I wasn’t planning on watching his game, but I couldn’t let them go thirsty because of me. “I’m not coming. Ask someone else to grab water for you,” I replied. With that, I turned off my phone and dove back into my sea of practice problems. When the monthly exams rolled around, I hit my goal and jumped 30 spots in the rankings. “Congratulations, Host! You’ve earned +10 Beauty Points. Current Beauty Score: 15.” Wow. That’s when I realized: my starting beauty score had been a measly 5. After the system announcement, I rushed to the bathroom to check my reflection. Was it just me, or did my skin look a little less sallow? I even seemed a bit slimmer. “Host, if you improve by another 50 ranks in the next exam, you’ll earn 15 more Beauty Points.” Another 50 ranks? That would put me in the top 100! It sounded tough, but I couldn’t back down now. I doubled down on my studies, using every spare moment—even lunch breaks and bathroom trips—to memorize vocabulary and history facts. “Chloe has made remarkable progress this time. Everyone should take inspiration from her,” my homeroom teacher announced proudly after handing back the test results. It was the first time I’d ever been publicly praised like this. The feeling was… indescribable. I was still basking in the glow of those words when I bumped into Anthony on the stairs. “Chloe, looks like you’ve grown a backbone, huh? Skipping my game and even blocking me?” Anthony said, a smirk playing on his lips.

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## For three years, I took care of my blind girlfriend. Then she regained her sight. And my brother? He pretended to be me and started dating her. One day, my girlfriend came to my dressing room. My brother locked me in the bathroom. Through the crack in the door, I saw them slowly kiss, and surprisingly… I was relieved. What my brother didn’t know was that this blind girl was a psychopathic killer who’d murdered her own parents. Later, when he ended up locked in a dark basement, chained and disfigured, begging me to let him out, I stared at him calmly and said: “Brother, I spent years in that place. Now it’s your turn.” The audience erupted into applause, snapping me out of my thoughts. I let out a quiet breath of relief. My piano performance was finally over. “Let’s give a round of applause for the talented Noah White,” the host announced. “And now, we have the honor of welcoming the acclaimed pianist and patron of the arts, Ms. Evelyn Sinclair, to share her thoughts on tonight’s performance!” Evelyn Sinclair? The name made my blood freeze. I shot up from my seat, and when I looked toward the stage, I locked eyes with her. Those sharp, fox-like eyes. I stumbled back a step, my throat tightening. My mind went blank as I tried to look away, but my heart pounded so loudly I could barely think. She could see. She wasn’t blind anymore. No, it’s fine. My name is Noah White now. She’s never seen my face before. There’s no way she can recognize me. I forced myself to stay composed, nodding politely to the host before quickly leaving the stage. As soon as I was offstage, I rushed toward the backstage lounge. I wasn’t even supposed to be performing tonight—my brother, Noah, had asked me to stand in for him. My real name is Liam White. When I threw open the lounge door, my brother was lounging on the couch, waiting for me. I grabbed his arm with urgency. “We need to leave. Now.” He stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Liam, have you gone insane? Don’t forget, you’re just my stand-in. What gives you the right to tell me what to do?” He yanked his arm out of my grip, smirking. “Evelyn Sinclair is here, sitting in the audience. She’s the head of the Sinclair family empire, and she came here specifically to see me perform. I’m about to hit the jackpot, Liam.” I shook my head, my voice low and firm. “Do you even know who Evelyn Sinclair is? She’s not a good person. I was kidnapped and sold to the Sinclairs as a servant. You can’t trust her.” He scoffed, laughing dismissively. “Sold to do what? Shine her shoes?” He rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous because Evelyn likes me.” The moment he said that, I knew. He and Evelyn had already gotten involved. Taking a deep breath to calm myself, I warned him quietly, “If you stay with her, you’re signing your own death sentence.” His expression darkened, and before I could react, he slapped me hard across the face. “Shut up! Don’t you dare try to ruin this for me. I’ve waited my entire life for a chance like this!” Before I could reply, a soft voice called from the other side of the door. “Noah?” Evelyn’s voice was gentle, but I could hear the edge beneath it. My hands trembled, and I accidentally knocked over a glass of water on the table. The water spilled onto the floor, pooling at my feet. Her knocking grew more insistent. Panicking, I crouched down, clutching my head in my hands. My brother grabbed me roughly, dragging me to my feet. Without hesitation, he shoved me into the bathroom and hissed, “If you make a sound and ruin this for me, I’ll make you regret it.” I bit my lip, swallowing my reply, and stayed silent. My brother opened the door and welcomed Evelyn inside with a charming smile. Through the crack in the bathroom door, I watched Evelyn reach out and gently touch his face. “Noah,” she said softly, “I’ve been looking for you for so long.” It was obvious. Evelyn could see now. But she’d made a mistake—she thought my brother was me. Her gaze was filled with affection, her eyes lingering on him longingly. My brother took her hand and smiled. “Well, you’ve found me now.” Evelyn’s expression flickered, her eyes clouding with sadness. “But you don’t seem to remember me,” she murmured. “It’s okay, though. Some memories are better left forgotten. I’ll take care of you now. I’ll treat you better than anyone ever has.” She hesitated, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just don’t leave me again. Because if you do…” Before she could finish, my brother cut her off with a kiss. It was forceful, almost possessive, and Evelyn quickly melted into his arms. But as they kissed, my brother glanced toward the bathroom door, his eyes glinting with triumph. I knew exactly what Evelyn hadn’t finished saying. If you leave me again, I’ll kill you.

Evelyn was my ex-girlfriend, the only daughter of the Sinclair family—the most powerful dynasty in the capital. Behind her beautiful, angelic face hid the heart of a devil. For three long years, I endured her cruelty, humiliated and broken, just trying to survive as her servant. The day I escaped, I made sure she’d never forget me—I drove a knife straight into her chest. If she ever found me, I knew I wouldn’t just die. She’d make sure it was slow and agonizing. When I escaped, I didn’t go home right away. I moved from city to city, always looking over my shoulder, making sure she wasn’t following me. Only when I was certain I’d shaken her off did I return to my rural hometown, disguised as a beggar. I stayed away from big cities, terrified she’d find me. I only returned to society when my biological parents tracked me down. When my mother discovered I had a talent for piano, she decided I should train alongside my twin brother, Noah. But Noah wasn’t thrilled about the idea. He injured his hand on purpose and blamed me for it. When our parents took his side—as they always did—they forced me to perform in his place. I refused at first, but they threatened to cut off my grandmother’s care. She was old, frail, and the only person who’d ever truly loved me. I had no choice but to give in. So, I became Noah’s shadow. I performed under his name, and he basked in the glory that should’ve been mine. At least with Noah around, Evelyn wouldn’t find me. For now, I was safe. I don’t know how long I waited in that bathroom before I was sure they were gone. Finally, I slipped out, carefully checking my surroundings before calling a cab and heading home. When I arrived at the house, I rang the doorbell over and over, but no one came to open the door. I’d left in such a hurry that morning, I’d forgotten my keys. It was clear Noah had locked me out on purpose. If he’d wanted me inside, any of the staff could’ve opened the door by now. Frustrated, I turned to leave, but then the door opened. I looked up, ready to thank whoever it was—only to feel the words catch in my throat. The bag in my hand slipped to the ground, sheet music spilling out. Panicking, I knelt down to gather it, my hands trembling uncontrollably. “Noah?” I froze. The voice was soft, familiar, and terrifying. When I looked up, I saw Evelyn standing there. She was dressed in a sleek, wine-colored cheongsam, her long hair cascading in elegant waves. She looked stunning—every bit the perfect picture of beauty and grace. But I knew better. Beneath that polished exterior was a monster who thrived on control and chaos. Before I could react, Noah appeared at the door, his face lighting up. “You’re a guest. You should just relax inside,” he said smoothly. “The staff can handle the door.” Evelyn smiled at him, her gaze playful. “I heard the doorbell ringing so insistently. I thought I’d help. It’s no trouble.” Her attention shifted back to me for a moment. I kept my head down, clutching my bag tightly to stop myself from bolting. She tilted her head, studying me. “Is he your brother? You two look so alike.” Noah laughed nervously, quickly taking her hand. “He’s my twin.” Her lips curved into a coy smile. “Your twin? He seems… afraid of me.” “He’s always been shy,” Noah said quickly, steering her back toward the house. Evelyn didn’t move right away. Her gaze lingered on me, her expression thoughtful. “What’s his name?” “Liam,” Noah replied casually. “Liam…” she repeated slowly, as if tasting the name. “It’s a nice one. Suits him.” Noah gave her an awkward laugh before wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside. But not before shooting me a warning glance over his shoulder. Later that evening, I avoided going to dinner. But Evelyn insisted Noah bring me down to eat with them. Reluctantly, I sat at the table, keeping my head down. Evelyn pushed a plate of spicy fish toward me, the red chili peppers covering the dish like a warning. “Noah told me you didn’t want to eat,” she said sweetly. “I thought maybe you’d lost your appetite. Spicy food is supposed to help with that—try some.” I stared at the dish, my stomach turning. I knew immediately what she was doing. Evelyn was testing me. Because she knew I couldn’t eat spicy food.

When I was kidnapped, the abuse I suffered left my stomach permanently damaged. Eating anything spicy caused excruciating pain. Evelyn loved using this against me, forcing me to eat raw chili peppers whenever she was in a bad mood. Noah, conveniently, avoided spicy food too—but he claimed it was because it was bad for his skin. Now, staring at the fiery red dish in front of me, I knew I only had two options: eat it and suffer in silence, or refuse and risk exposing myself. Without a word, I picked up my chopsticks and started eating. Each bite felt like swallowing fire, but I forced myself to stay calm. I didn’t speak, didn’t react, barely even breathed. Evelyn watched me closely, her eyes narrowing slightly as if disappointed. When dinner was over, I excused myself and went back to my room. As soon as the door closed, I collapsed onto the floor, clutching my stomach as waves of pain tore through me. Downstairs, Evelyn leaned back in her chair, her gaze lingering on the empty plate of fish. “Noah,” she said casually, “your brother seems to really like spicy food.” Noah barely looked up. “I guess so.” Evelyn’s eyes darkened, a small smile playing on her lips. “Noah, I think I’ll stay the night. Your guest room will do, won’t it?” Noah lit up, practically tripping over himself to agree. “Of course! You can stay wherever you’d like.” Upstairs, the pain finally became unbearable. I curled into a ball on the floor, biting down on a towel to muffle my cries. The memories came rushing back—Evelyn’s punishments, her cold voice, the sound of my own screams. Even after all this time, she still had the power to destroy me. When I finally passed out from the pain, the last thing I heard was the echo of her voice in my mind, whispering: “You’ll always belong to me.” I woke up with a start, drenched in sweat. My heart raced as I frantically looked around. But I wasn’t in the Sinclair mansion. I was in the White family home. For now, I was safe.

The sour stench of sweat clung to me, sharp and unbearable. I glanced down at my clothes—they were soaked through, wrinkled, and clinging to my skin. “BANG!” The door to my room flew open with a loud kick. Noah leaned casually against the doorframe, dressed in one of his vintage-style outfits. His dark eyes swept over me with disdain. “Liam,” he sneered, “Evelyn’s going to be mine sooner or later. You better not get any stupid ideas.” He paused, smirking as he gestured to his clothes. “See this? She made this for me. Stitched it herself.” “Oh, and in case you were wondering, she’s taking me to her family’s ranch today to ride horses.” I stayed silent, watching him for a moment before letting out a small laugh. The more Evelyn doted on Noah, the safer I was. I wasn’t some noble saint, but I wasn’t the one pushing Noah toward destruction either. He was doing that all on his own. “Pick a red horse for her,” I said lightly. Noah frowned, confused. “What’s that supposed to mean?” “She likes red.” His lips twitched, as if he was about to argue, but then he hesitated. He remembered what I’d told him before, that I’d been sold to the Sinclair family, and how Evelyn had inexplicably fallen for him, claiming he was just suffering from memory loss. The doubt in his eyes softened into belief. “What else do you know about Evelyn? Tell me!” “Why should I?” I replied coldly. He narrowed his eyes. “I heard your grandmother needs surgery. Help me win Evelyn over, and I’ll cover all her medical expenses.” I raised an eyebrow. “Words mean nothing.” Grinding his teeth, he pulled a card from his pocket and threw it at me. “There’s over fifty grand on that card. I’ll give you half now.” “Deal.” I picked up the card and said softly, “Don’t eat anything spicy around Evelyn. Not even a little. She doesn’t like it.” “That’s it?” he asked, suspicious. “For now. When you get back, I’ll tell you more.” His gaze darkened, and he leaned in to whisper a threat. “If you’re lying to me, Liam, you and your granny can meet in hell.” Before leaving, Noah hired a few guys to keep an eye on me. He wanted to make sure I didn’t try to sneak off and see Evelyn. As if I’d ever go looking for her. I’d been running from her for years. After taking a shower, I sat on my bed, thinking about the ranch. Back when Evelyn was blind, she relied on Braille to navigate the world. But she was brilliant—a genius, really. She didn’t just adapt; she thrived. She was reckless too. Even without her sight, she insisted on horseback riding, a dangerous hobby for anyone, let alone someone blind. I was tasked with ensuring her safety on those rides. If she got hurt, I’d be punished. Red was her favorite color. “It’s the color of blood,” she used to say. I still remember the day I asked her, “Your hair is naturally black. Why don’t you like black too?” She smiled at me, a playful glint in her blind eyes, then drove a knife into my arm. “Because red is the only color I’m sure of—the one you and I both share.”

The next morning, Noah burst into my room, grinning from ear to ear. “I picked a red horse for her, like you said. She loved it,” he bragged. “She was so happy, Liam. We were this close to spending the night together, but she said she wanted to wait until marriage.” My stomach sank. Trying to sound casual, I asked, “Did she ask you anything… unusual?” “Yeah, she asked why I picked the red horse for her.” “And what did you say?” “I told her it was just instinct, like I knew she’d love it.” I exhaled, relieved. But then I couldn’t help asking, “Did she… punish you for anything? Like, I don’t know, carve her name into your skin?” Evelyn’s possessiveness was legendary. If someone so much as looked at me too long, she’d take out their eyes. Once, she told me she wanted to carve her name into my skin, to mark me as hers. She said she’d do it herself when the time was right. Thankfully, I escaped before she got the chance. Noah laughed, oblivious to my fear. “Nah, she’s sweet as can be. Says she’ll do anything for me, as long as I don’t leave her.” I stared at him, disbelief coursing through me. Was this the same Evelyn? The cruel, sadistic woman who controlled every aspect of my life? “She did give me a gift, though,” Noah added, pulling a box from his pocket. “Actually, two gifts.” My heart stopped. “She picked out these jade pendants,” he said, handing me one. “Said it was for you, since you’re my brother.” I stared at the pendant, my pulse racing. “She specifically chose this?” “Yeah. Who knew she liked antiques so much?” Idiot. Evelyn didn’t care about antiques. She cared about chaos, adrenaline, and the thrill of walking the edge. She was a psychopath, through and through. Clutching the pendant, I cursed under my breath. Evelyn was testing me again. Before I could say anything, there was a commotion outside. A moment later, the butler burst into my room, looking panicked. “Evelyn’s here,” he announced. Downstairs, Evelyn lounged on the sofa, her long hair cascading over her shoulders. She was as stunning as ever, her lazy smile both alluring and menacing. Her dark eyes locked onto me as soon as I entered the room. “So,” she said, her voice soft and mocking, “your name is Liam. Why haven’t you said a word to me?” “Evelyn,” Noah interrupted, trying to smooth things over. “He’s just shy. You know, social anxiety and all.” “Really?” She tilted her head, feigning innocence. “We’ve seen each other so many times, and he still won’t say hello?” “Good evening, Ms. Sinclair,” I said quickly, cutting Noah off. Her smile faltered, and for a brief moment, disappointment flashed in her eyes. I’d prepared for this. I’d taken an ice-cold bath to make my voice hoarse, masking it so it wouldn’t match the one she remembered from when she was blind. Evelyn studied me for a moment longer, then turned back to Noah, her expression thoughtful. Taking advantage of the moment, I mumbled an excuse and slipped into the kitchen. I needed to keep my cover. I opened the freezer and grabbed two ice creams, hoping the cold would further distort my voice. But when I closed the freezer door, I froze. Evelyn was standing right behind me, silent as a shadow, her dark eyes fixed on mine.

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## When I was hospitalized with a sudden illness, my wife, Clara, was speeding to the airport to pick up the man she’d always loved—her old flame, Adam. She drank with him, fought for him, and threw away every shred of reason for him. She forgot our anniversary, hid the abortion of our child from me, and didn’t even visit me when I was critically injured in a car accident. In the end, I died on the operating table, my heart cold and empty. And when she finally pieced everything together, the guilt drove her to the brink of madness. Clara and I had been married for five years, but her work always came first. Our time together had been fleeting, barely enough to fill a handful of memories. This year, I thought we’d finally turned a corner. She’d said to me, “Benjamin, let’s start over.” That night, I was so excited I couldn’t sleep. I believed we’d finally grow old together, living a life of love and happiness. But it didn’t last. One event brought everything crashing down again. Yesterday, I was rushed to the hospital with acute appendicitis. It was an emergency, and I needed immediate surgery. I called Clara—again and again—but she didn’t pick up. Lying on the hospital bed, staring at the sterile white ceiling, I felt a hollow ache in my chest. Clara had been distant for weeks. She’d become increasingly elusive, ignoring my calls and leaving my texts unanswered. I scrolled through our chat history on my phone. The screen was filled with green bubbles—messages from me, all unanswered. The last message I’d sent her was yesterday evening: “Babe, I’m at the hospital. The doctor says I need surgery for acute appendicitis. Can you come be with me?” She never replied. Maybe she was busy, I thought. Maybe she hadn’t seen it yet. Clinging to the faint hope that she’d respond, I sent another message: “Don’t worry, the surgery is done. I’m fine now.” After hitting send, a notification popped up: a friend request from someone I didn’t know. But just from the profile picture, I knew exactly who it was. Adam. The man my wife had spent years chasing. Her so-called “one that got away.” I didn’t know why he was adding me in the middle of the night, but I accepted the request anyway. He didn’t say anything. Curious, I clicked into his profile and started scrolling through his posts. One post in particular caught my attention. “Someone who loves you will cross mountains and oceans just to be by your side.” The photo attached to the post? A woman’s silhouette, standing in an airport terminal. That silhouette was unmistakable—it was Clara. My wife. The post was timestamped 10 p.m. last night. Ten minutes after I’d sent her that message from the hospital. That was the exact moment I was being wheeled into surgery. It suddenly became clear why Adam had added me.

Before seeing that post, I had been making excuses for Clara. She was busy. She was stressed. Maybe she was at work, stuck in a meeting, or networking over drinks. I’d convinced myself that she just didn’t have time to check her phone. But Adam’s post shattered all of those excuses. No wonder she didn’t answer my calls or reply to my messages. She wasn’t too busy—she was with him. She’d dropped everything to be by his side. I felt like a fool. My grip on the phone tightened, my knuckles turning white. My vision blurred as I stared at her number on my screen, debating whether to call her. But in the end, I couldn’t do it. Pathetic. I didn’t even have the courage to confront her. Lying alone on the hospital bed, I found myself scrolling through Adam’s profile again, masochistically digging deeper. Unlike Clara’s profile, which was empty and pristine, Adam’s was full of life. He posted constantly—snapshots of his day, his thoughts on life. And at the end of every post, there was always a small snowflake emoji. It was subtle, but I knew what it meant. That snowflake—Clara. He never mentioned her by name, but she was everywhere. Every post was about her. No wonder Clara checked his profile religiously. Every time she read his posts, her mood would visibly brighten. And when I’d try to peek over her shoulder, curious, she’d immediately lock her phone and glare. “Don’t invade my privacy,” she’d snapped. I’d backed off, not wanting to upset her further. But one of Adam’s posts caught my attention. It was an announcement: He was getting married. He was moving abroad to start his new life. That was the same day Clara had told me, “Benjamin, let’s start over.”

Adam was Clara’s college classmate, the man she had loved but could never have—the one who got away. Back in school, Clara devoted herself to him completely. She was always by his side, running errands, doing whatever he asked without hesitation. A single offhanded comment from Adam could send her across half of Riverview City just to pick up his favorite breakfast. Adam majored in a different field than Clara, so what did she do? She switched majors. Adam liked nightlife, so she learned how to drink and smoke to fit into his world. Anything Adam liked, Clara would pursue it relentlessly, no matter the cost. Everyone in college knew how deeply Clara loved him. But in the end, they didn’t end up together. During Adam’s senior year, he announced he’d applied to study abroad. When Clara found out, she chased after him all the way to the airport. I don’t know what Adam said to her that day, but whatever it was, it broke her. She fell into a deep depression for months. I stayed by her side the whole time, quietly supporting her. Not long after graduation, to my surprise, Clara agreed to marry me. Even on the day of our wedding, I couldn’t believe it was real. It wasn’t until I slipped the ring onto her finger that it hit me—this wasn’t a dream. Overcome with emotion, I grabbed her hand and cried like a child. I had finally married the woman I’d loved for so many years. No one knew how much Clara loved Adam. And no one knew that my love for her was just as deep—if not deeper. I’d loved her for years, long before Adam ever entered the picture. Even when people mocked me, calling me a pathetic doormat who worshipped her, I didn’t care. Clara was my exception, my one and only. As long as I could be with her, I was content. But now… I’m starting to realize that maybe I don’t love her as much as I thought I did.

The doctor came in for his rounds and frowned when he saw I was alone. He sternly reminded me that I needed someone to look after me. My parents had passed away a couple of years ago. Clara was the only family I had left. I called her again. This time, it didn’t go straight to voicemail—it was turned off. I laughed bitterly to myself. What was I expecting? Adam was back. Of course, she wasn’t going to care about me. So, I called my childhood friend, Ryan. He showed up not long after, bursting through the door of my hospital room. “Benjamin, what the hell happened to you?” Ryan exclaimed, looking me over with wide eyes. “You look awful!” It had only been one sleepless night, but I must’ve looked so haggard that even Ryan, who’d known me forever, barely recognized me. “Where’s Clara?” Ryan asked, his voice sharp with anger. “You had surgery, and she’s not even here? What kind of wife does that?” He ranted on, furious on my behalf, but his words only made me sink deeper into thought. Maybe this was my fault. Maybe it was my unconditional love and patience that gave Clara the freedom to hurt me so carelessly. I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Adam’s back,” I said quietly. Ryan’s face darkened. “That bastard actually came back?” “This time,” I said, my voice calm, “I think I’m going to divorce her.” Ryan froze mid-motion, the apple he’d been peeling dropping onto the table. He opened his mouth to say something but hesitated, his face shifting through a mix of emotions. Finally, all he managed was, “Just… take care of yourself, man.” Truthfully, I’d already made peace with it. I’d always known Clara never truly let go of Adam. There was one time, a year into our marriage, Clara had gone out with friends and forgotten to bring a jacket. Worried she’d get cold, I rushed out to bring it to her. When I arrived at the restaurant, I overheard one of her friends teasing her: “You’re married to Benjamin now, but you’re still thinking about Adam?” Clara’s voice was calm, almost indifferent. “It’s different. Adam will always be special to me. I can’t forget him. Benjamin… he’s just my second choice.” I stood frozen outside the door, her words stabbing through me like ice. I was wearing a heavy coat, but in that moment, I felt cold to my core. From that day on, I understood. I would never compare to Adam.

When I was discharged and went home, I discovered something that shouldn’t have surprised me: Clara hadn’t been home at all while I was in the hospital. The house was eerily quiet. Dust had gathered on the furniture, a thin layer that made the emptiness feel even heavier. I imagined how happy she must’ve been these past few days, free of me and my burdens. I unlocked my phone and opened Adam’s social media profile again. The most recent post was a video. Dim lighting. Thumping bass. A crowded dance floor filled with bodies moving to the beat. In the center of it all was Clara, pressed tightly against Adam. The two of them moved in perfect rhythm, their bodies so close they seemed inseparable. As the song ended, Adam wrapped his arm around Clara’s waist, pulling her even closer. She tilted her head up, her eyes half-lidded, filled with an intoxicating mix of desire and devotion. And then, he kissed her. The kind of kiss that spoke of possession, of claiming. They stood there in the middle of the dance floor, locked together, oblivious to the world around them. The video cut off abruptly after that. I scrolled further, finding more posts I hadn’t seen before—all of them featuring Clara and Adam together. Dancing at clubs. Drinking and laughing at a barbecue joint. Racing motorcycles late at night. It was like they were reliving their college days, indulging in all the reckless things they used to love. Meanwhile, I’d been lying in a hospital bed, alone. The absurdity of it all hit me like a punch to the gut. Clara was my wife. And yet, the only way I could keep track of her was through another man’s social media. 6

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## The day I received my college acceptance letter, I made my best friend promise not to tell my family. She agreed, smiling sweetly as though she understood. But the moment I turned my back, she ran straight to my mom. My mom tore up the letter and locked me in the house. She planned to sell me off—to marry me to a middle-aged bachelor in our rural town for a $30,000 dowry, all to help my brother buy an apartment in the city. I fought back with everything I had. But when I tried to escape, my mom beat me so badly she broke both of my legs. Years later, after giving birth to my fifth child, I died in childbirth, bleeding out while no one cared enough to help. When I opened my eyes again, it was as if time had rewound itself. I was back on the road to pick up my acceptance letter. My so-called best friend, Karen, was smiling at me. “So, Sophie, did you get in?” Karen was holding my acceptance letter, grinning as she walked toward me. Her smile couldn’t hide the glint of malice in her eyes, and I narrowed mine in response. In my previous life, we’d both taken the college entrance exams. I had been accepted to a prestigious university out of state, while Karen had only managed to get into a low-tier community college. We both came from the same rural town, where life was tough and opportunities were rare. My family, dirt poor and deeply traditional, couldn’t afford to send me to college. To make matters worse, my mom had set her mind on marrying me off for a $30,000 dowry, all to fund my younger brother’s dream of buying a house in the city. But I had a dream too. I wanted to leave this town. I wanted to escape the suffocating mountains and build a future for myself. I begged Karen to keep my acceptance a secret from my family. I poured my heart out to her, sharing all my hopes and plans for the future. She nodded, promising to keep my secret, swearing she supported me. But the night I was ready to leave, my battered suitcase in hand, Karen showed up—with my mom trailing behind her. “Mrs. Miller, Sophie got into college, but she’s not really going, right? She wouldn’t abandon you or the family, would she? Isn’t that right, Sophie?” Her fake concern was infuriating. My suitcase said everything I couldn’t—I was leaving, no matter what. My mom’s face turned red with rage. She lunged at me, grabbing my hair and yanking me back. “You’re going to college? Over my dead body!” she screamed. I begged her, sobbing, trying to explain that I’d make good money after graduation, that I’d help the family then. “I let you finish high school, didn’t I? And now you think you’re too good for us? College? Are you out of your mind?” Her grip tightened, the pain of my scalp nearly blinding me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Karen standing there, smirking. She waved my acceptance letter in the air, the one my mom had ripped to shreds. I was dragged back home, locked in my room, and left without food or water for two days. The only thought keeping me going was the dream of escaping. One dark night, I finally managed to break free. I was so close—the edge of the village was right there. Just a few more steps, and I’d be free. Then pain. Blinding, searing pain. My legs gave out beneath me, and I collapsed. My mom stood over me, holding a thick wooden stick. She’d broken my legs. “You little brat. You think you can run? You’re staying right here until you’re married off, you hear me?” And just like that, I was sold off—for $30,000—to a middle-aged man in the village. No marriage certificate, no ceremony. Just a transaction. I was nothing more than a childbearing machine for him, enduring endless abuse for five years. When I gave birth to my fifth child, I bled out on the bed, the life draining from me as I realized no one would care. Meanwhile, Karen had stolen my acceptance letter and taken my place at college. She graduated, married a wealthy man in the city, and lived a picture-perfect life. No one would ever know that I had died, forgotten and alone, in a remote, nameless village. But now, I have a second chance. This time, I’ll make sure they all pay. Every single one of them will face justice for what they did to me. This time, I will take back everything that was stolen from me. 2 I stared at the acceptance letter in Karen’s hand, letting a glimmer of envy show in my eyes. “It’s been days, and my college letter still hasn’t arrived. Guess it’s just not happening for me.” My words seemed to hit the exact note Karen wanted to hear. She was the kind of person who couldn’t stand seeing me do better than her. The idea of me not getting into college clearly delighted her. Karen sighed dramatically and walked over, grabbing my hand in mock sympathy. “Sophie, you always aim too high. Honestly, you should’ve just applied to a community college like I did. Why waste your time on some out-of-state fancy university?” she said, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Well, look where it got you,” she continued, shaking her head as if she were truly disappointed. “But what’s done is done. Let’s head home, okay?” Karen’s words might have sounded caring to someone else, but I could hear the smugness beneath her tone. In my past life, it had been just like this. She’d flaunted her acceptance letter in front of me, over and over, just to savor the sight of my disappointment. What she didn’t know then, though, was that my acceptance letter had simply arrived a day later than hers. When it finally arrived, I couldn’t contain my excitement. I ran straight to Karen’s house, holding the letter tightly in my hands. “Karen! I got in!” I shouted, beaming with joy. “What?!” Karen snatched the letter out of my hands, flipping it over and over as if she couldn’t believe it was real. At the time, I thought she was just happy for me. I didn’t notice the way her hands clenched around the paper, or the fleeting look of malice in her eyes. Looking back, that moment was probably when she started plotting against me. How could she accept that someone she considered beneath her had gotten into a prestigious university? In her mind, it should’ve been her. Always her. But Karen had forgotten one thing: in high school, I’d been at the top of our class every single year. 3 The next day, I went alone to pick up my acceptance letter. When I finally had it in my hands, the weight of it made everything feel real. This time, I told no one. I went straight home and hid the letter in the dusty beams of the attic. “What are you doing up there?” The lazy, drawling voice from behind me made my heart skip a beat. It was my younger brother, Jason. I turned around slowly, trying to gauge how much he might have seen. “Oh, I was just putting some rat poison up here,” I said casually. “We’ve had mice scurrying around at night, and they’ve been freaking me out.” Jason looked annoyed, waving me off. “Alright, whatever. Mom said to get ready. She wants you to go out with her later.” I froze for a moment but managed to keep my tone steady. “Got it. I’ll change and head out.” After he left, I locked the door behind him and moved the letter to a new hiding spot. I wasn’t taking any chances this time. Sure enough, when my mom called me to leave the house, it was exactly as I had expected. She was dragging me to meet one of the middle-aged bachelors in town. A “nice man,” she’d called him. Someone who’d pay $30,000 for the privilege of marrying me. In my last life, I’d been naive enough to wear my best dress, hoping to make a good impression. That man had chosen me on the spot, sealing the deal with a handshake and a “gift” of a delicate wristwatch. I’d been too foolish to realize the watch was part of the dowry—the first payment in the transaction that would sell me off like livestock. This time, I clenched my fists and took a deep breath, forcing my anger to settle before it boiled over. “Mom, most of my clothes have been chewed up by mice. I’m going to borrow something from Karen to wear,” I said nonchalantly, walking past her as she sat peeling cotton in the yard. She looked up briefly, narrowing her eyes. “Fine, but hurry back. And I’ll put some rat poison in your room later.” I froze for a split second but forced myself to keep walking, smiling faintly. “No need, Mom. I already set some traps earlier.” She waved me off, turning back to her work. Karen was in her yard washing clothes when I arrived. Her family’s situation wasn’t much better than mine. She had an older sister who’d been married off at 18 for a hefty dowry, and a younger brother who was the golden child of the family. In our deeply patriarchal village, having a son was everything. Women were just a means to an end. “Sophie? What brings you here?” Karen asked, her voice laced with curiosity. I walked toward her, pretending to hesitate. “I… didn’t get into college,” I said softly. “My mom’s introducing me to someone. There’s a $30,000 dowry involved.” Karen’s eyes immediately lit up. “My good dresses have all been ruined by mice, though,” I continued, feigning embarrassment. “I was hoping to borrow something nice from you.” Karen’s hands froze mid-wash, and she swallowed hard. “Thirty thousand dollars? And he’s okay with you retaking the entrance exams next year?” I nodded shyly, lowering my voice. “Yeah, he’s older, but he seems like a good guy. My mom says I should dress up to make a good impression.” Karen’s curiosity turned into outright greed. “What’s he like? Have you met him yet?” I propped my chin in my hands, pretending to daydream. “Not yet. I’m meeting him soon.” Karen stared at me, her excitement barely contained. “You know,” she said after a moment, “I’ve got some free time today. Why don’t I come with you? Just to make sure everything’s… you know, okay.” Bingo. I smiled inwardly. “Really? That’d be great.” In my last life, Karen’s mother had been just as dismissive of her education as mine. But Karen had been resourceful. She’d found herself an older, married man from a neighboring village who sent her money every month, enough to pay her college tuition. The moment she graduated, she dumped him and set her sights on a rich guy from the city. This time, though, I wasn’t going to make it so easy for her. 5 I was smaller than Karen, so her clothes didn’t fit me well at all. She had “carefully chosen” a bright orange dress for me, one that clashed horribly with my sun-tanned skin and made me look even darker. Meanwhile, Karen had dressed herself to impress. She wore a fitted black V-neck top that hinted at her cleavage, paired with a cream-colored pleated skirt that showed off her slim, pale legs. The more polished and elegant she looked, the happier I felt. Because only I knew the truth—the man we were meeting was a lecherous creep. Standing side by side, it was obvious who he’d pick. And it wouldn’t be me. When we returned to my house, my mom gave me a quick once-over. She hesitated for a second, probably annoyed by how plain I looked, but with Karen standing there, she didn’t say anything. “Karen, you look so grown-up now! Definitely like a college student,” my mom said with a smile, her eyes lighting up as she admired Karen. Karen blushed modestly and grabbed my hand. “Oh no, Auntie, Sophie’s way smarter than me. It’s such a shame she didn’t get in.” “If she got in, I wouldn’t have let her go anyway,” my mom said matter-of-factly. “Her brother’s about to get married. Where would we get the money for her tuition?” I’d heard it all before. I should’ve been numb to it by now, but it still hurt. As we walked to the meeting spot, my mind raced, plotting my next move. Karen suddenly raised her voice, “My dad said someone from the village got into a really good college.” She turned to my mom. “Auntie, could it be Sophie? I mean, her grades were always so good.” Then she glanced back at me, a sly smile on her face. “Sophie, who do you think it is?” My heart skipped a beat. Did her dad see me when I picked up my acceptance letter? I stayed quiet for a moment before replying, “How would I know? There are so many people in the village.” Karen raised her finger and wagged it playfully in front of me. “My dad saw who it was,” she said. A chill ran down my spine. Damn it. She knew.

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## My mom forced me to donate a kidney to the neighbor’s daughter. After a DNA test, she completely lost it. The neighbor’s daughter was gravely ill, and my mom insisted I give her a kidney. I was malnourished growing up—just drawing blood for a test felt like it could finish me off. But my mom’s response? “Why should I care if you die? Savannah is my real daughter!” That’s when I found out the truth. At birth, my mom had switched me with the daughter of our wealthy neighbors. I glanced over at the neighbor, expecting some shock or guilt. But no—she was calm, detached, like none of this mattered at all. I watched, helpless, as my mom signed the consent forms. Then, as if that wasn’t enough, my dad tied me down to the operating table, and my older brother picked up the scalpel himself. I didn’t have the strength to fight back, so I made one final request: a DNA test with my mom. She agreed, probably thinking it would shut me up for good. But after the surgery, I developed an infection and lost all memory of what happened. And her? She completely broke down.

When I opened my eyes, my mother was standing in front of me. I tried to move, but quickly realized my arms were tightly strapped to a hospital chair. Before I could even process what was happening, she spoke: “I’ve raised you for so many years. It’s time for you to repay me.” “I need you to save Savannah.” Panic gripped me. “Mom… what are you talking about?” A young male voice cut in: “She’s asking you to give your kidney to Savannah.” That voice—it was so familiar. I turned my head and saw him. Sure enough, it was my brother, James. “James?” My eyes immediately filled with tears. Growing up, he was the only one in the family who cared about me, the only person who treated me kindly. But now, the look on his face terrified me. It was cold, detached—like I was a stranger to him. I begged him, sobbing, “James, please untie me! I’m in so much pain! What do you mean, give up my kidney?!” “Savannah is sick,” he said flatly, “and she needs a healthy kidney. Yours is a match. You should be grateful you’re even useful for something.” As he spoke, he stepped back, standing protectively behind Savannah. That’s when I noticed them—Savannah and her mother were here too. A few months ago, Savannah had been diagnosed with a serious illness. Shortly after, my mom took me for a full physical exam. Even as a child, I always felt my mom hated me. But when it came to Savannah, the neighbor’s daughter, she treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world. A horrifying thought began to form in my mind. Would my mother really sacrifice me for someone else? I struggled to believe it. Desperately, I pleaded, “What does any of this have to do with me? I’m your daughter! How can you force me to do this?” James let out a bitter laugh, one that chilled me to my core. “You’re not my sister,” he said. “Savannah is.” “You’re just an imposter.” I froze. I understood every word he said, but my brain refused to make sense of them. What did he mean, Savannah was his sister? Savannah looked just as confused as I was. She turned to James, but he simply smiled at her, warm and gentle. Meanwhile, the nylon straps on my arms were cutting deeper into my skin. Blood was starting to seep out. But the pain in my heart was worse. Seeing James smile at her like that—it felt like a knife slicing me open. My mom stepped forward. “I didn’t want to say anything, but now that Savannah is sick, I have no choice.” She walked over to Savannah and took her hand, cradling it like it was the most delicate treasure in the world. “Savannah is my real daughter,” she said. “You? You’re the neighbor’s child. I swapped you at birth.” My mind went blank, my head buzzing like I’d been struck by lightning. I shook my head violently. “No… That’s impossible!” “Impossible?” my mom said coldly. “If you don’t believe me, I even recorded a video back then. I kept it for this very moment—to take Savannah back.” I broke down completely, screaming and crying, my voice raw with desperation. “Mom! Mom, I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong again? Please don’t abandon me! I am your daughter!” I was frantic, grasping at anything. “Mom, look at my hands! I’m bleeding! Please hold me—I’m in so much pain, Mom!” But she just stared at me, her expression filled with disgust and finality. “Don’t call me that. I’m not your mom.” “I’ve hated you since the day you were born. Every time I looked at you, I thought about Savannah. I hated you for taking her place!” I opened my mouth, my voice trembling. “But last night… you took me out for cake…” That cake—I’d dreamed of it for 20 years. And now, just as I’d finally had a taste, she was taking it all away. I collapsed to the floor, shaking with sobs. For 20 years, I’d been trying to warm my mother’s frozen heart. I thought I was finally getting through to her. But reality had struck me like a bolt from the blue. “So what?” she said, her voice icy. “You’ll never matter as much as Savannah.” “And besides, it’s just a kidney. I already asked the doctors—you won’t die from this.” Realizing there was no one left to help me, I turned desperately to Savannah. “Savannah, we grew up together! Please, you have to help me!” Savannah had always been kind and principled. Surely, she wouldn’t accept this. But in the very next moment, her words shattered my world.

“Mom, you’ve already taken so much from me. You owe me this—you have to save me this time!” A trembling, tearful voice shattered the last of my illusions. I turned, stunned, and saw Savannah struggling to stand from her wheelchair. She wobbled, unsteady, before collapsing into my mother’s arms. Only now did I get a good look at her. Despite her mother’s constant care, Savannah’s illness had ravaged her body. She looked frail and broken. I remembered how many times she’d told me she just wanted to live a normal, healthy life. And now, with an opportunity right in front of her that required no sacrifice on her part, of course she would seize it without hesitation. My brother, James, walked over and gently wrapped Savannah in his arms, soothing her like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I’m sorry, Savannah,” he said softly. “For all these years, I’ve been loving the wrong person.” “From now on, I’ll make it up to you.” My mom was already crying as she clung to Savannah. “I’m so sorry, my daughter… I’ll make sure nothing happens to you. I don’t care what it takes.” I watched as the small trickle of love I’d fought for over twenty years—all those fleeting moments of hope—was now gushing uncontrollably toward her. Suddenly, I felt a metallic taste rise in my throat, but I swallowed it down. I forced a bitter smile. For most people, donating a kidney might not be fatal. But for me? A girl my mother never loved, who grew up malnourished, weak, and neglected? My body was already broken. Losing a little extra blood was enough to put me in danger. I glanced at the three of them, holding each other like the perfect family. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Savannah’s mother—Mrs. Whitmore. She stood off to the side, detached, watching this absurd scene like it had nothing to do with her. She wasn’t crying over her daughter’s betrayal. She didn’t even seem to care that I might be her biological child. I turned to her, trembling, and asked, “Do you really not care at all?” “I might be your real daughter. Why won’t you save me?” She shrugged. “So what if you’re my biological child? What difference does it make?” “I’ve raised Savannah for twenty years. She is my daughter. If saving her means sacrificing you, I don’t mind.” I froze. So that’s what a mother’s love is supposed to look like. I lowered my head and blinked back the tears. Love, it seems, only flows toward those who already have it. For someone like me—abandoned by the world—I was nothing more than trash. But even trash clings to life. I gathered every ounce of strength I had and shouted at them, “You can’t do this! It’s illegal!” My mom didn’t flinch. “It doesn’t matter. Legally, I’m still your mother. I’ll sign the consent form for your kidney donation.”

Mrs. Whitmore raised her hand calmly. “I agree. Whether Savannah is mine by blood or not, I’ll always love her.” And just like that, the two of them handed me a death sentence without a second thought. I choked out, “Mom…” Even now, I couldn’t let go of the hope that she might feel something for me. That after all these years, there was some bond, however faint, between us. Maybe it was my desperate tone, but she finally turned around. For a moment, she didn’t move. James frowned and grabbed her wrist. She gently patted his hand before stepping toward me. Her eyes were red, and her voice trembled slightly. “Jessica,” she said, “Savannah is my flesh and blood. She’s my real daughter.” “For years, I’ve dreamed of her, loved her, waited for her. You have to give her your kidney.” She took a deep breath. “I asked the doctors. You won’t die. At worst, you’ll be unable to take care of yourself for a while.” “When you recover, I promise I’ll love you. I’ll make it up to you.” Twenty years of hope disintegrated into nothing. All I got in return was, You won’t die. I laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that echoed in the room. “I won’t survive this,” I whispered, almost to myself. “I’m going to die.” My mom’s face twisted in panic. “No! That’s impossible! Your brother will perform the surgery himself!” Even if James was the most skilled surgeon in the world, he couldn’t save someone who no longer wanted to live. My father, who had been silent the entire time, helped me up and secured me to the operating table like I was some animal being prepared for slaughter. James held the consent form in his hands. My mother quickly signed her name. I lay there, head turned to the side, watching helplessly as they prepared to wheel me into the operating room. I blinked at the ceiling, tears streaming down my face. Then I forced a smile—one uglier than any cry. “I’ll do it,” I said. “Take my kidney, my life, whatever you want. But I have one condition.” James frowned. “What now? Are you still trying to fight this?” “Savannah suffered for twenty years because of you,” he snapped. “She’s the one who was robbed of her life with Mom. And you still think you have the right to ask for anything?” Suffered? Who had really suffered all these years? I hadn’t just been robbed of my family—I was being asked to wager my life to pay for it. All I wanted was one answer. My father sighed. “Let her have this. After everything, Jessica deserves to know.” “Fine,” my mom said coldly. “Let’s do the test. But after this, don’t ever call me your mother again.” I smiled faintly. Finally, after twenty years, I could let go of this hollow, one-sided love.

To increase the chances of a successful surgery, my brother deliberately didn’t give me enough anesthesia. I could feel the blade slicing through my skin, the scissors cutting through my tissue. The pain was excruciating. When people are scared, they instinctively cry out for their mom. I almost did too—until it hit me like a slap in the face: I didn’t have a mom anymore. My brother, James, raised an eyebrow and glanced at me with disgust. “Never thought you were a fake,” he sneered. “No wonder you never felt like family. All those years I cared about you—it was a complete waste!” His words were sharp, but I couldn’t be hurt anymore. My vision blurred as I stared at the ceiling, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. “Don’t be mad, James,” I said softly. “After this, I won’t call you my brother ever again.” He didn’t like that. His expression darkened, and he twisted the scalpel deliberately. Pain shot through me, making my whole body tremble and break out in cold sweat. “Good,” he growled, grinning smugly. “You don’t deserve to call me your brother.” The surgery felt endless. So long, in fact, that I started to wonder if I’d already died. Finally, James tied off the last suture. He tilted his head, looked down at me, and said with a smirk, “Lucky you. You made it.” I blinked slowly, the pain dulling into a cold numbness. “Thank you… Dr. Whitman,” I murmured. Something about the way I said it set him off. His face twisted in anger, and he slammed the scissors onto the tray before storming out of the room. From the operating table, I could hear the voices outside. My mom’s frantic voice broke through the indistinct chatter. “How’s Jessica? Is she okay?” James’s voice was dismissive. “The surgery was a success, but her body’s in terrible shape. She’s going to suffer for the rest of her life.” I heard my mom sigh in relief. “As long as she’s alive… that’s all that matters.” Then her tone changed, as if she’d just remembered something. “Oh, Mrs. Whitmore,” she said, turning to the neighbor, “she’s always wanted a mom. I’m giving her back to you now. You need to take good care of her!” Mrs. Whitmore didn’t even have a chance to respond. Suddenly, I started coughing violently, blood gushing out of my mouth in uncontrollable waves. The nurse working nearby froze in shock, dropping the instruments in her hands as she stumbled backward. Panic consumed the room. The nurse scrambled to her feet, tripping over herself as she rushed to the door and shouted at the top of her lungs: “Doctor, emergency! The patient’s bleeding out!” “And… and there’s signs of infection!” The moment the words left her mouth, James spun around in a panic. He sprinted back into the room, yelling my name as he ran. But my vision was fading fast. My pupils were dilating, the world around me growing darker and more distant. Outside, I heard my mom trying to push past the people holding her back, her voice trembling with fear. “What’s happening? What’s wrong with her?” The chaos in the room was overwhelming, and in the midst of it all, a nurse from the lab walked in, holding an envelope. She seemed completely oblivious to the scene, her voice cheerful as she announced, “Congratulations! The DNA test results are in—these two are confirmed to be mother and daughter!”

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## Quinn Monroe once vowed to love Ryan Winters for the rest of her life. But when Robert, Ryan’s father, was in a life-threatening car accident, she betrayed him. She flaunted her affairs in front of him, teasing and toying with other men while holding his father’s medical bills over his head, ensuring he couldn’t leave. Eventually, Ryan’s heart broke completely. He decided he’d rather marry a woman he had no connection to—even one with a disability—than stay by Quinn’s side. But when she finally lost him for good, regret came too late. “I’ve made up my mind, Mr. James,” Ryan said, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. “If you’re still willing to cover my father’s medical costs, I’ll marry your daughter.” On the other end of the line, the middle-aged man’s excitement was barely concealed. “You’re serious? You’re really okay with her being disabled? You don’t mind?” Ryan’s response was calm, resigned. “I don’t mind.” After all, as long as his father could be saved, it didn’t matter who he married. The woman he truly loved had already given her heart to someone else. “Good, good!” Mr. James said, trying to suppress the excitement in his voice, afraid Ryan might change his mind. “Give me two weeks. I’ll wrap up my business abroad and fly back to get your father the best care possible.” “Thank you, Mr. James.” Ryan’s tone was polite but distant. After ending the call, he slowly set the phone down and glanced at the black stocking lying on the sofa. The tears in the fabric told him everything he needed to know about how wild things had gotten the night before. The pale morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Ryan’s exhausted face. He let out a bitter laugh. Last night, while his father was in critical condition, Ryan had spent hours sitting alone outside the operating room, frantically calling Quinn. Each call went unanswered, met only with the cold sound of the line disconnecting. At first, he’d convinced himself that she was busy with work and couldn’t pick up. But returning home to find a discarded stocking on the sofa, red-bottomed stilettos tossed carelessly on the floor, and the master bedroom door tightly shut told him the truth. She wasn’t busy with work. She was busy with someone else. Ryan picked up the black stocking, walked to the bedroom door, and knocked lightly. “If you’re going to fool around, at least clean up after yourselves. Don’t leave your trash lying around where I can see it.” Without waiting for a response, he tossed the stocking onto the floor and walked away, heading for the study. Even when he heard the hurried sounds of movement behind the door, he didn’t care. Why would he? In two weeks, he’d be gone. The study was filled with pictures of Ryan and Quinn—photos they’d carefully hung on the walls together. Each frame held a moment from their six years of love, a timeline of a relationship that had once been unshakable. Tears blurred his vision as Ryan stared at the wall. He wiped his eyes, took a deep breath, and began tearing down the photos one by one. They’d met in college and fallen in love quickly. After graduation, Ryan had turned down his father’s request to return home and take over the family’s traditional medical clinic, choosing instead to stay and help Quinn build her business. When her company took off, Quinn had proposed to him the moment she tasted success. Their friends and families had called them a golden couple, a match made in heaven. But everything changed in the blink of an eye. Right before the wedding, Robert was struck by a car and left critically injured. The medical bills were astronomical, and suddenly, their passionate love began to wither under the weight of financial stress. Quinn grew resentful, blaming Robert for “dragging them down.” She became impatient with Ryan, and six months ago, she hired a young, attractive assistant who never left her side. She paraded her flirtations openly, using “work” as an excuse to spend time with the man in ways that made Ryan sick to his stomach. Ryan saw it all for what it was. He wasn’t blind. He’d thought about leaving her more times than he could count. But the cost of his father’s care was too much. Without Quinn’s financial support, Ryan couldn’t even imagine how many days his father had left. So, he swallowed his pride. He endured the humiliation. He stayed. But now, everything was different. Mr. James had promised to take on the medical bills. In two weeks, Ryan would no longer have to live under Quinn’s roof, no longer have to bow his head and endure her cruelty.

The door to the study swung open, and Quinn stormed in, her disheveled silk pajamas barely hanging on her shoulders. She snatched the photo Ryan had just torn from the wall, her voice tinged with panic. “Ryan, stop tearing them down! You’ve got it all wrong. Last night, George and I were out meeting clients. He drank too much, and I was worried about him getting home safely, so I brought him here. Nothing happened, I swear!” As if to prove her innocence, she called over George, who had just stumbled out of the bedroom, looking equally as rumpled. “Ryan, I promise it’s not what you think,” George said as he walked up, speaking in a voice so exaggeratedly sweet it was nauseating. “Quinn and I just slept in the same bed—platonically. Nothing happened.” Ryan glanced him over, his eyes cold and calculating. “Nothing happened?” he repeated, his tone dripping with mockery. “Well, Mr. George, you must be a real disappointment then. Dressed like that and still couldn’t win over your boss? So, tell me—who’s the problem here? Is it you… or is it her?” His gaze flicked to Quinn, whose face immediately darkened. “Ryan!” she snapped, her voice sharp. “George and I already explained everything. Why are you still throwing out snide remarks? Who do you think you’re impressing?” George tugged gently at Quinn’s sleeve, his voice soft and saccharine. “Don’t be so harsh on him, Quinn. He’s just upset. It’s understandable—Ryan’s never worked in the corporate world. He doesn’t get what it’s like to entertain clients. Misunderstanding us is only natural.” Ryan’s lips twitched, a bitter smile tugging at the corners. Entertain clients? He thought back to all the times he’d stood by Quinn’s side at events, supporting her every move. Back then, George was probably still in some college internship, dreaming of being noticed. Ryan stayed silent, lowering his gaze. George must have interpreted it as shame, because he pressed on, now emboldened. “But seriously, Ryan, you need to let these little things go. Quinn’s running a whole company and covering your dad’s hospital bills. She’s under a lot of pressure. You can’t keep nitpicking over every small misunderstanding.” He tilted his head slightly, his tone almost condescending. “Why don’t you apologize to her and drop this? Let’s just move on.” The confidence in George’s voice was so unshakable, so smug, that it almost felt like he believed he was the one wearing the ring on Quinn’s finger. Ryan’s eyes flicked to Quinn, searching for even the slightest hint of defense or reassurance from her. But there was none. She stood there, arms crossed, clearly waiting for him to give in. Ryan let out a long, heavy sigh. “You’re right. I’m sorry for misunderstanding.” Quinn waved her hand dismissively, as if she couldn’t be bothered with his apology. “Fine. Now, go make some hangover soup for George and me.” “Got it,” Ryan replied evenly, his tone devoid of emotion. As he turned and walked toward the kitchen, Quinn furrowed her brow slightly, an uneasy feeling creeping in. Something was… off. She remembered how, in the past, whenever something like this happened, Ryan would lose his temper—shouting, crying, fighting with her until she shut him down by reminding him of his father’s medical bills. Only then would he begrudgingly back down. But tonight, he hadn’t argued at all. He’d apologized and done what she asked without a single complaint. What’s gotten into him? Before she could dwell on it any further, George’s arm slid around her waist, pulling her close. “George, stop it,” Quinn said, brushing his hand off with a light slap. “He’s still here.” “Fine,” George pouted, his voice playful. “But how about we book a room tonight, just the two of us?” Quinn laughed softly and tapped him on the nose. “Alright, alright. You win.” Standing in the kitchen, Ryan overheard every word of their exchange. He froze, his hand gripping the counter, his knuckles white. He had always suspected their relationship was more than just professional, but hearing it laid out so plainly still felt like a knife to the chest. He wiped at his eyes, forcing back the tears. It’s fine, he told himself. I’ll be gone soon anyway.

Ryan placed the bowl of hangover soup on the dining table, ready to retreat to his room and finally get some rest. But Quinn grabbed his wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “You called me so many times last night. Was something wrong?” Ryan froze mid-step, his body stiffening. For a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to answer. When he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, and his eyes turned red. “Last night… my father was in critical condition.” Quinn fell silent for a few seconds. Then, without saying a word, she picked up her phone and transferred $50,000 to Ryan’s bank account. “This should cover your dad’s expenses for the next month,” she said. A rare flicker of guilt crossed her face. “Tonight, I’ll go with you to visit him.” It was the first time in six months that Quinn had voluntarily offered to see Robert. Maybe she felt bad for ignoring his calls the night before. Ryan hesitated, debating how to politely refuse, but George jumped in before he could say anything. “Quinn, don’t forget—you’ve got that meeting tonight,” George said, giving her an exaggerated wink, clearly hinting at their “appointment.” Ryan seized the opportunity and replied, “You should take care of your work. I’ll go by myself. He hasn’t woken up yet anyway—your visit wouldn’t make a difference.” Quinn’s eyes flicked to George’s toned figure, and her resolve wavered. Clearly unwilling to give up her evening plans with him, she sighed and pretended to be concerned. “Alright. But be careful, and let me know if you need more money.” Ryan nodded. “Got it. I’ll go rest now.” He instinctively headed toward the master bedroom but stopped dead in his tracks when he remembered the events of the previous night. Just thinking about what had happened in there—Quinn and George, tangled up in those sheets—made his stomach turn. He stood outside the door for a couple of seconds, his hand hovering over the doorknob, before he turned around and walked to the guest room instead. If the bed was dirty, there was no need to force himself to sleep in it. Ryan fell into a deep sleep and dreamed of the past—back when he and Quinn had first met. In his dream, there was the nervous excitement of their first kiss, the way her cheeks would flush whenever their eyes met. He remembered their arguments, too, and how Quinn would soften her voice to gently coax him out of his anger. And then there were the good times, like the year she saved up for months to surprise him with a birthday gift he’d casually mentioned wanting. When he woke, tears were streaming down his face. He sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the floor. How had it come to this? They had been so in love once. Was it really just his father’s illness that had broken them? Or had Quinn’s feelings faded long before that? His thoughts were interrupted by the buzz of his phone. Several new messages popped up on the screen. They were from George. Ryan hesitated before opening them. When he finally did, his blood ran cold. The photos showed a man and a woman locked in a passionate kiss. It only took a second for Ryan to recognize the woman’s familiar figure—it was Quinn. It was a blatant taunt. Ryan exhaled slowly, forcing himself to remain calm. He didn’t respond. Instead, he turned off his phone and began packing his belongings. The years had left him with a collection of small, scattered items, but he didn’t want to leave anything behind when he left in two weeks. No traces. No memories. For three days, Quinn didn’t come home. Ryan didn’t care. But on the fourth evening, she suddenly texted him, asking him to accompany her to a business dinner. Ryan had no intention of going, but Quinn mentioned that Mr. Walker, a major investor who had helped her during the early days of her company, had specifically requested that Ryan attend. Out of respect for Mr. Walker, Ryan reluctantly agreed. When Ryan arrived at the restaurant, George was already waiting at the entrance. With a smug grin, George handed Ryan an outfit—a sleek, fitted shirt with an intricate cutout design. “Here, Mr. Winters. Change into this before you go in. We wouldn’t want you embarrassing Quinn.” Ryan glanced at the shirt, then back at George, his expression cold. “And who do you think you are to tell me what to wear?” George’s smile faltered, but he quickly recovered, pouting dramatically. “I’m just trying to help! You don’t want to look cheap in front of important people, do you?” Ryan’s lips curled into a faint smirk, his voice sharp. “If I embarrass anyone, that’s my problem—not yours.” Without another word, he brushed past George and headed toward the private dining room. The moment Ryan stepped into the room, Quinn’s expression soured. She was seated near the door, and her displeasure was obvious. “What are you wearing?” she hissed under her breath, her tone dripping with irritation. At the head of the table, Mr. Walker—an older man with a gruff demeanor—looked Ryan up and down, the disappointment clear on his face. “Quinn,” Mr. Walker drawled, leaning back in his chair with a mocking smile. “Your boyfriend’s really changed, hasn’t he?”

Quinn immediately plastered on a fake smile. “Oh, Mr. Walker, I’m so sorry you had to see him like this. Ryan, hurry up and pour Mr. Walker a drink.” Ryan silently grabbed the bottle and began pouring. As he did, George slipped into the room, leaning down to whisper something in Quinn’s ear. Whatever he said made Quinn’s face turn pale with fury. If it weren’t for the important guests in the room, she probably would’ve exploded on the spot. “Ryan,” Mr. Walker said, his tone laced with mockery, “it’s been so long since I’ve seen you. What happened? You look so… worn down. Is Quinn too busy running her empire to take care of you properly?” Ryan’s worn outfit and tired face—aged prematurely by sleepless nights—stood in stark contrast to George’s sharp, tailored suit and confident demeanor. The comparison was humiliating, and the jab cut deep. “Here’s your drink, Mr. Walker,” Ryan said evenly, placing the glass down without meeting her gaze. But Mr. Walker wasn’t done. “Don’t go anywhere! Sit here, next to me.” Before he could walk away, her clammy hand clamped down on his shoulder, forcing him back into the seat. Across the table, Quinn glanced at the scene but didn’t lift a finger to intervene. Ryan gritted his teeth and sat down. After a few rounds of drinks, Mr. Walker’s wandering hand started inching toward Ryan. He flinched and quickly stood up. “Excuse me, I need to use the restroom.” He barely made it out of the room before Quinn followed him, grabbing his arm. “Where are you going?” she snapped, her nails digging into his skin. Ryan turned, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger. “Quinn, what are you doing?” She folded her arms, her voice low but firm. “The company’s negotiating a major deal with Mr. Walker. I need you to stay and make sure she’s happy. Just play along.” Ryan stared at her, stunned. “Are you serious? You dragged me here to use me as some kind of bargaining chip?” “Don’t say it like that,” Quinn muttered, her voice dropping to a whisper. “All I’m asking is for you to keep her entertained. I’m not asking you to sleep with her.” Ryan let out a bitter laugh. “Funny. When you first started this business, you wouldn’t even let me pour someone a drink. Now you’re fine with me being groped in front of you?” His voice cracked. “Quinn, do you even care about me anymore? Even a little?” Quinn’s lips curled into a smirk, as if he’d just told a joke. “If I didn’t care about you, Ryan, I would’ve let your father die a year ago. Do you think keeping him alive was free? Do you think the money I’ve given you for his medical bills grows on trees?” Her voice turned icy. “Let me make this clear: if you don’t go back in there and make Mr. Walker happy, I’ll take back the $50,000 I just sent you.” Each word hit him like a blow. Ryan’s hands trembled as he clenched his fists at his sides. “Fine. I’ll do it,” he said through gritted teeth. Pushing down the humiliation, Ryan straightened his back and walked back into the private room. But as he opened the door, he froze. Mr. Walker, now visibly drunk, had one arm draped over George’s shoulders. “You’re Quinn’s secretary, right?” she slurred, giggling. “You’re way better looking than her boyfriend. So much more my type.” George tensed, his face turning red as he glanced at Quinn for help. Quinn stormed into the room behind Ryan, her face twisting with rage. She immediately pulled George away from Mr. Walker’s grasp. “What the hell are you doing?” she shouted, her voice cutting through the room. Mr. Walker blinked, startled. “What’s your problem? I barely touched him.” Quinn’s eyes blazed. “You think you can just put your hands on my secretary?!” Mr. Walker’s drunken confusion turned to anger. She let out a bitter laugh. “You’re something else, Quinn. I’ve been touching your boyfriend all night, and you didn’t say a word. But the moment I lay a hand on your secretary, you lose it?!” The room fell silent as the weight of her words settled. Quinn’s jaw tightened, her eyes darting toward George, who was still flustered and avoiding her gaze. Mr. Walker’s laughter turned cold. “Well, guess what? That deal you wanted? Forget it.”

“I don’t need it anyway.” Quinn scoffed, spitting the words out like venom. She grabbed George’s hand and stormed out of the restaurant, but not before calling Ryan to follow along behind them. Outside, as they waited for the car to pull up, Quinn simultaneously comforted a visibly shaken George, who was trembling in her arms, while throwing blame in Ryan’s direction. “This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t made such a scene and left the room,” she snapped. “If you’d just stayed, George wouldn’t have had to deal with that creep.” Ryan stood motionless beside them, the chilly autumn wind brushing through his hair. For the first time, he felt the city’s fall air truly bite. It was colder than he’d ever remembered it. George, clinging to Quinn like a frightened rabbit, buried his face in her shoulder, his tears streaming down in dramatic streaks. “I’m fine, Quinn,” George sniffled, his voice trembling. “Don’t be mad at Ryan. He didn’t mean for this to happen.” Ryan said nothing, his gaze fixed on them in silence. After a moment, Quinn seemed to calm down. “George works for my company. He’s fresh out of college, completely inexperienced. As his boss, it’s my responsibility to protect him. Otherwise, how could I explain this to his family?” “Of course,” Ryan replied simply, his tone devoid of emotion. He let the ache in his chest simmer, unaddressed. It doesn’t matter anymore, he thought. In ten days, I’ll be gone. Let her do whatever she wants. When the car arrived, Ryan climbed into the passenger seat without a word, leaving the backseat for Quinn and her precious George. “Take us to the Westwood Hotel first,” Quinn instructed the driver. Only then did she glance at Ryan, as if suddenly remembering to explain herself. “I need to drop George off at his hotel before I can head home with you.” “Sure,” Ryan murmured, leaning back against the seat, his eyes closed. The alcohol he’d consumed earlier had started to hit, and his stomach churned with a dull, persistent ache. Ryan wasn’t sure how long he’d been asleep when the driver shook him gently. “Mr. Winters, Quinn said she had something to take care of and left.” “Alright,” Ryan replied flatly. He grabbed his bag, the sound of his black coat brushing against the leather seat filling the quiet car, and stepped out. Walking into the house, he wasn’t surprised to find his phone empty of any messages from Quinn. He didn’t need to ask where she’d gone—he already knew. She was with George. And yet, even though he was counting down the days until he’d finally leave her behind, the knowledge of her devotion to another man sliced through him like a knife. After taking a long, scalding shower, Ryan heard his phone buzz. He picked it up, expecting nothing of importance, but what he saw made his blood boil. It was a photo from George. Unlike the last time George had sent pictures meant to taunt him, this one didn’t spark sadness—it ignited rage. Quinn, in an effort to appease George, had given him the jade pendant. That pendant wasn’t just any piece of jewelry. It was the Winters family heirloom, passed down through generations. It symbolized peace, love, and eternal partnership. Quinn had received it from Robert as a wedding gift—a gesture of welcoming her into the family. And now, she’d handed it off to another man, as if it were nothing more than a cheap trinket. This was the only thing my father entrusted to me. If his condition doesn’t improve, it will be the last thing I have to remember him by. Ryan clenched his fists, his chest heaving. Without hesitation, he called for a cab and headed straight to the Westwood Hotel. Ryan didn’t know George’s room number, so he knocked on door after door, ignoring the glares and insults from annoyed hotel guests. Finally, on the fourteenth try, he heard Quinn’s voice behind the door. When she opened it and saw Ryan standing there, her face immediately darkened. “What are you doing here?” she demanded. “Where’s the jade pendant?” Ryan pushed past her, stumbling into the room. His voice cracked with desperation. “Give it back to me!” Quinn barely had time to react before Ryan turned to face George, who was sitting on the bed, clutching the blanket like a frightened child. “That pendant belongs to my family,” Ryan said, his voice shaking. “It’s not yours to take. Hand it over!” “Quinn, I’m scared,” George whimpered, looking to her for rescue.

Quinn stepped forward, grabbing Ryan’s wrist and yanking him back. “It’s just a piece of jade, Ryan. Why are you making such a big deal out of this?” Ryan’s voice broke as he snapped, “My father is lying in a hospital bed, unconscious, and you’re using the one thing he gave you to bribe another man. Do you even have a conscience?” For a moment, Quinn looked startled, but the fleeting vulnerability quickly vanished, replaced by her usual indifference. “Do you think keeping your father alive is free?” she spat. “I’ve spent a fortune on his medical bills. Don’t I deserve to use that pendant however I see fit?” Ryan’s eyes burned with tears of frustration. “Don’t forget—I gave up everything for you. I transferred all my shares to your name because you promised to take care of my father. And now you’re acting like it’s all your money?” “Stop being so dramatic.” Quinn rolled her eyes and shoved him back. Ryan stumbled and fell to the cold, hard floor. “Give it back!” Ryan shouted, scrambling to his feet. He lunged toward George, determined to find the pendant himself. “Don’t touch me!” George screeched, flailing his arms as the two struggled. Quinn’s expression hardened. Without hesitation, she kicked Ryan square in the stomach, sending him sprawling to the ground. The pain was immediate and excruciating. Ryan clutched his abdomen, gasping for air as cold sweat drenched his face. For a brief moment, Quinn hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. But just as she started to move toward him, George tugged at her arm, his voice trembling. “Quinn, I don’t feel well,” he whispered, his eyes wide and pleading. Her focus shifted instantly. “Where does it hurt?” she asked, her voice laced with concern. She forgot about Ryan entirely, fussing over George like a doting mother. “Ryan!” she barked suddenly, turning back to him. “You’re from a family of doctors, aren’t you? Come check on George.” Ryan looked up at her, his face pale and his body trembling from the pain. “Do it,” she snapped. “If something happens to George, don’t forget—your father’s health depends on me.” Ryan stared at her, the last shred of warmth he felt for her crumbling into nothingness. He forced himself to his feet and staggered toward George. Gritting his teeth, he reached out to take George’s pulse. After a long pause, Ryan muttered, “He’s fine.” “Are you sure?” George whined, clutching Quinn’s hand. Quinn glared at Ryan, clearly dissatisfied with his answer. “Just go home,” she said sharply. “I’ll deal with you later.” Ryan didn’t argue. “Give me the pendant,” he said, his voice flat. “It’s not even that valuable,” George chimed in, pulling the pendant from under his pillow and tossing it carelessly at Ryan’s feet. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with it.” Ryan scrambled to pick it up, but it was too late. The jade pendant hit the floor and shattered into pieces. As he knelt there, staring at the fragments, tears streamed down his face.

“You can go home now,” Quinn said, her brow furrowed as she stepped in front of George, shielding him like he was some fragile treasure. “I’ll find someone to fix the jade pendant later.” “There’s no later,” Ryan said, his voice trembling. He slipped the shattered pendant into his pocket, leaning against the doorframe for support before staggering out of the hotel room. Quinn watched his hunched figure disappear into the hallway. For a brief moment, a strange pang of unease tightened in her chest. What did he mean by ‘there’s no later’? She shrugged it off just as quickly as the thought came. It’s just one of his tantrums. Give it a few days, and he’ll get over it like always. With a dismissive shake of her head, she turned her attention back to George, who was wrapped tightly in her arms. The two cuddled sweetly, while across town, Ryan walked home alone, tears streaming down his face. When Ryan got home, the first thing he did was swallow a painkiller. The ache in his stomach—whether from Quinn’s kick or the emotional toll—refused to subside. For the next three days, he was bedridden, the pain locking him in a prison of physical and emotional torment. By the fourth morning, the pain had finally begun to ease. Opening his eyes, Ryan was surprised to find Quinn sitting on the edge of the bed. Unlike him, pale and worn from the sleepless nights, Quinn looked radiant. Her energy was reminiscent of the days when they were first in love, back when she still cared. “You’re awake? Good,” she said briskly, showing no concern for his condition. “I need to talk to you about something important.” Ryan sat up slowly, his body still weak. “What is it?” “It’s about George,” Quinn said, her tone casual. “He’s had some bad luck. His ex-girlfriend cheated on him, and he doesn’t want his family to worry. So, he asked me to pretend to be his girlfriend for dinner with his parents. You don’t mind, do you?” Ryan froze for a moment, his lips curling into a bitter smile. She’s not even trying to come up with believable lies anymore. “I don’t mind,” he said softly, his voice barely audible. “I knew you’d understand,” Quinn said, leaning in to plant a quick kiss on his forehead. “You’re always so considerate.” She stood to leave, but paused at the door. “Oh, and next month on your birthday, I’ll make sure to spend the whole day with you. We’ll visit your dad together, okay?” Ryan’s eyelashes fluttered, his gaze dropping to the bedsheets. Next month? Quinn, I’ll be gone in five days. The words sat heavy on his tongue, but before he could say anything, Quinn’s phone rang. “Quinn, my parents showed up early. I don’t know what to do!” George’s panicked voice echoed through the speaker. Quinn barely hesitated. “I’ll be right there,” she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. She didn’t look back. Ryan watched her leave, the door slamming shut behind her. For the next four days, she didn’t come home. George, however, made sure to send Ryan a steady stream of taunting texts. But Ryan felt nothing—his heart was numb now. On the morning of his departure, Ryan received a text from Mr. James. “The car will pick you up at 9 PM tonight.” Ryan replied with a simple, “Got it,” and began packing the last of his belongings. Around 10 AM, a package arrived at the door. Curious, Ryan opened it to find a familiar necklace inside—Emerald Dream, the one Quinn had once gifted him. Back when they were in love, Quinn had spent $500,000 on the piece, knowing how much Ryan adored it. But when his father fell ill, Ryan sold it on Quinn’s suggestion to cover the hospital bills. His hands trembled as he held the necklace. Did Quinn buy it back?

For the first time in years, a faint flicker of hope stirred in his chest. But it was quickly extinguished when his phone rang. “Mr. Winters,” George’s smug voice greeted him. “That package you just signed for? Quinn accidentally sent it to the wrong address. Could you bring it to the New Haven Hotel? She needs it for something urgent.” Ryan paused for a long moment before replying, “Sure, I’ll bring it.” Ryan took a cab to the New Haven Hotel, the necklace tucked safely in its box. But as the cab pulled up to the entrance, his breath caught in his throat. A massive banner hung over the entrance, displaying a photo of Quinn and George. The text beneath it read: “C&E Engagement Party.” Ryan’s vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. So this is what she needed the necklace for. A hotel staff member escorted him to the event hall. At the door of the bridal suite, he ran into Quinn and George’s mother. “Oh, who’s this?” George’s mother asked, her brows furrowing in suspicion. Quinn’s eyes widened slightly, her gaze darting nervously between Ryan and the older woman. “He’s… he’s my driver,” she said quickly, her voice trembling slightly. “Why don’t you head back inside, ma’am? I’ll handle this.” Without waiting for a response, Quinn grabbed Ryan’s arm and pulled him into a quiet corner. “Why are you here?” she hissed. Ryan chuckled bitterly. “Your ‘driver’?” he said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “Six years together, and now I’m just your driver?” Quinn ignored the jab, her tone sharp. “I asked you a question. Why are you here?” Ryan held up the necklace. “George said you needed this for something. Congratulations, by the way.” “You’ve got it all wrong,” Quinn said quickly. “This engagement party—it’s not real. I told you, I’m just pretending to be George’s girlfriend.” Ryan’s lips twisted into a bitter smile. “Pretending? You’re using the engagement plan we created for our wedding. The same decorations, the same fireworks. Is that part of the act too?” Quinn’s eyes flickered with guilt for a moment, but she quickly recovered. “It’s just a coincidence. Why don’t you believe me?” Ryan stared at her for a long moment, tears silently rolling down his cheeks. Finally, he nodded. “Fine. If you say it’s fake, it’s fake.” Relieved, Quinn smiled. “I’ll explain everything when this is over, okay? Just go home for now.” Ryan nodded again, too tired to argue. As Ryan left the hotel, his phone buzzed with another text from George. The photo showed George wearing the necklace, his arms wrapped around Quinn. “Quinn says only I deserve this necklace. She’s always loved me, you know. Oh, and once we’re married, she’s cutting off your dad’s medical bills. Makes sense, right? After all, I’m way more useful than your half-dead father.” Ryan closed the message, his chest heaving with quiet sobs. It’s over, he thought. We’re done. Later that night, as fireworks lit up the sky—part of the engagement celebration Ryan and Quinn had once planned for their own wedding—Ryan received two texts. One from Mr. James: “The car is outside.” And one from Quinn: “Sorry, I’m too busy tonight. I’ll come home tomorrow to explain everything.” Ryan typed a brief reply: “Don’t bother.” Then, with a deep breath, he deleted her number, blocked her on every platform, and stepped into the car. As the vehicle pulled away, Ryan glanced one last time at the house he had called home. Goodbye, Quinn. We’ll never see each other again. The cityscape blurred as the car sped off, taking Ryan toward a future where Quinn no longer existed.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295377”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #玄幻Fantsy #重生Reborn

### “Faking death?” The voice on the other end of the line was filled with shock and hesitation. “Miss Jane, are you sure about this? Our team is professional, no doubt, but once you go through with this paperwork, it’s as if you’ve vanished from society. You’ll never be able to show your face to your family and friends again…” “I’m sure,” Jane Faulkner’s voice was soft yet resolute. “Let’s set the date for seven days from now.” Seven days later was her sister Summer Faulkner’s final surgery. At this very moment, Jane’s blood was steadily flowing into a specialized container, waiting to be sent to Summer’s hospital room. The nurse, seeing Jane’s pale complexion, couldn’t help but interject with concern. “Doesn’t your family have anyone else with this rare blood type? You can’t keep doing this alone! You nearly fainted earlier!” Before Jane could respond, the door swung open, and a visibly anxious William Grant rushed in. “Is it done yet? Summer can’t hold on much longer.” The nurse quickly explained, “Mr. Grant, Miss Faulkner doesn’t seem to be feeling well—” William frowned impatiently, cutting her off. “What now?” The word “now” hit Jane like a needle, small and sharp, pricking deep into her heart. William grasped her wrist and let out a sigh. “Jane, stop making a scene. We’re at a critical point after the second surgery. Who else can help Summer if not you?” “I know this isn’t fair to you, but… I owe Summer too much. Please, think of this as helping me repay my debt to her, okay?” “You’ve gotten through it all these years, haven’t you? Just bear it a little longer. It’ll all be over soon.” Jane stared at him calmly. Yes, she had endured it all for so many years. It didn’t make sense for her to stop now. But… she couldn’t bear it any longer. From the very beginning, Jane Faulkner’s life had been marked by “expectations.” Summer Faulkner had been born with severe anemia, her blood type so rare that even hospitals often ran out of stock. She was the beloved darling of the family, raised like a delicate treasure, but growing up, she couldn’t escape bouts of fainting spells and emergency hospital visits. Jane Faulkner was born to fill that gap. She was healthy, which was fortunate. But she shared the same rare blood type, which was unfortunate. Put bluntly, she was Summer’s “walking blood bag.” Jane’s existence was for one purpose: to keep Summer alive. She thought her life was destined to stay that way—until she met William Grant in college. William was the one who taught her to fight back, the one who showed her that there was another way to live. That she didn’t have to belong to anyone but herself. At the time, Summer had a crush on William, so Jane and William’s relationship was kept in secret. For the first time in her twenty-something years of life, Jane had “taken” something from her sister. When the truth came out, the family’s fury was like a tidal wave. Jane became the ungrateful villain in everyone’s eyes. The day she was kicked out of the house, she called William, who was away on a business trip. She couldn’t even say a word—just let out a sob. William immediately booked the next flight back, showing up by her side that very night. He held her close and said, “Jane, you can always count on me.” With William’s support, Jane cut ties with her family and thought she could finally live a life of her own. But then William’s family business ran into trouble. To protect Jane, William kept everything from her. It wasn’t until Summer went to prison to take the fall for William that Jane learned the truth—that William was supposed to be the one behind bars. By the time William managed to get Summer out on bail, it was too late. Summer had suffered greatly in prison. Her pelvis had been fractured, leaving her nearly paralyzed. That day, William carried Summer into the emergency room, his eyes bloodshot, and hoarsely pleaded with Jane: “Jane, only you can save her.” It was like the first twenty years of her life all over again. She was back to being her sister’s supplement. But having glimpsed a better life, Jane couldn’t go back. She didn’t want to be a blood bag anymore. And she didn’t want William anymore, either. After the transfusion, Summer’s face regained some color. She smiled weakly and asked Jane, “Jane, are you okay? What do you feel like eating? I’ll have William get it for you…” Her words carried a subtle claim of ownership, as if she and William shared a deeper intimacy. Jane replied coolly, “Don’t bother. You should rest. I’m heading out.” But Summer grabbed her wrist. “Jane… are you mad at me?” Her lips quivered, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears. “Jane, I know this has been hard on you. I promise, once this surgery is done, I’ll never come between you and William again.” “How could it be a bother?” William walked in with two thermoses in hand, frowning as he overheard the conversation. “Jane, what did you say to your sister?” “Summer, if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have suffered so much. Don’t worry, I’ll take full responsibility.” Summer’s eyes reddened with gratitude. “William, it’s okay. I chose this myself.” Jane couldn’t listen to another word of their heart-wrenching “sacrifice and devotion.” She turned and walked out of the room. William followed her, shoving one of the thermoses into her hands. “I got you red date and goji berry soup—it’s good for replenishing blood. You’ve just had a transfusion. Drink up.” Jane didn’t take it. She stared at the steaming thermos, her brow furrowing slightly. “William, I’m allergic to red dates.” William froze. The one who loved red dates was Summer. She’d been anemic since childhood, and their mother had always made sure there were endless supplies of red dates for her. Summer had tried every variety under the sun and never got tired of them. “I forgot…” William retracted the thermos, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Jane, it’ll all be fine once your sister gets through the surgery.” “Go take care of her,” Jane replied flatly. She didn’t bother arguing. Ever since she’d seen a property deed at home a few days ago, she hadn’t felt like wasting energy talking to William. It was for the luxury apartment next door. Only now, the owner’s name had been changed to Summer Faulkner. That day, Jane ran into the neighbor who was moving out and struck up a conversation. The neighbor smiled and said, “Miss Jane, you’ve got yourself a great boyfriend.” Jane smiled politely and asked, “Why do you say that?” The neighbor replied, “Well, he said your sister’s been sick and needs someone to take care of her, so he bought this apartment from me—for double the market price! I mean, if he’s this thoughtful about your sister, he must treat you even better.” In that moment, Jane’s smile froze on her face. She held the property deed in her hand, her curiosity about the details suddenly vanishing. William had made his decision, all without consulting her. Maybe he didn’t think he needed to. Maybe he believed Jane wouldn’t object to her sister living next door. William’s hand on her arm brought her back to reality. “There’s something I haven’t had a chance to discuss with you yet,” he said hesitantly. “What is it?” “After Summer’s final surgery, I was thinking we could bring her home for a while. Just until she’s fully recovered,” William said, carefully. “It’ll be more convenient that way.” “Sure,” Jane replied without hesitation, her quick agreement catching William off guard. “You’re not against it?” he asked, surprised. Jane merely said, “It’s your house. Do whatever you want.” She brushed his hand off her arm, leaving William with his outstretched arm hanging in midair. And just like that, she walked away. William watched her go, suddenly unsure of himself. The day after she received her fake medical records, Jane followed the agency’s instructions and signed a body donation agreement. The agreement was real, but the person who would “die” was an actor hired by the agency to stage her death. To make the arrangement more convincing, the agency recommended getting a family member to co-sign. So Jane called Mrs. Faulkner. Mrs. Faulkner’s voice was as cold as ever. “The one who’s dying is Summer. What nonsense are you up to now? A body donation? Do you think if you die, we won’t find someone else with the same rare blood type?” “You’ve really grown wings, haven’t you? Forgotten your place completely.” Jane was silent for a moment before quietly asking, “What if I really were dying?” Mrs. Faulkner scoffed. “Then come over. I’m with Summer right now.” She didn’t believe her. Jane wasn’t actually sick, but Mrs. Faulkner’s reaction still made her heart grow cold. She arrived at the hospital and handed the crumpled donation agreement to Mrs. Faulkner. Mrs. Faulkner didn’t even glance at it before signing her name with a flourish. She even sneered, “Summer, your sister says she’s dying. Do you believe her?” Summer bit her lip, looking hurt. “Jane, I know I’ve been such a burden to you lately, but you don’t have to make up lies to scare us…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “I’ve been looking for other donors with the same blood type. I won’t keep bothering you. I promise.” Just as she finished speaking, William walked in. He was holding a bouquet of baby’s breath—Summer’s favorite flowers. “Who upset the Faulkner princess this time?” he teased gently. Summer let out a tearful laugh. “William, don’t joke around. No one upset me. I’m just feeling a little embarrassed.” “My body’s been so weak… I’m almost thirty years old, and I still have to rely on my sister’s blood to stay alive…” William hesitated for a moment, then turned to look at Jane. She was standing there, thin and frail, her cheeks hollowed out. She looked almost sickly—though maybe it was just anemia from everything she’d been through recently. William tried to smooth things over. “Come on now. Jane’s your sister. She’d never blame you for anything.” Their mother, however, was less patient. “Jane, aren’t you going to apologize to your sister?” “You’re in your late twenties. How do you still not understand gratitude? If it weren’t for Summer’s illness, do you think we would’ve even had you? Let alone let you stand here now, threatening us like this?” Jane froze in place, her resolve crumbling under those few short sentences. She had always known. If it hadn’t been for Summer’s severe anemia and rare blood type, her parents never would’ve had her. She wouldn’t exist. But hearing it said out loud, hearing her worth as a person reduced to nothing, still felt like a knife twisting in her chest, leaving her breathless. Instinctively, she looked to William. Once, he had been the one to tell her she wasn’t anyone’s accessory. But now, William avoided her gaze. “Jane,” he said quietly, “the doctor said Summer needs to stay in good spirits…” “Just apologize to her. Make her feel better.” Jane’s entire body trembled. She took a step back and let out a hollow laugh. “Why should I apologize?” she asked, her voice steady but her eyes defiant. William stepped closer, frowning deeply. He lowered his voice and said, “Summer’s sick. Her health is fragile. Can’t you just be a little more understanding?” All her life, Jane had been the “understanding” one. Because of William, she had learned to rebel, to stop being “understanding.” But now, the person asking her to be understanding again… was William. She blinked rapidly, forcing back the tears that threatened to fall, but her eyes still turned red. “William, I’m sick too. My health is failing. I’m dying. Can she, for once, show some understanding for me?” The truth was, Jane’s body wasn’t completely fine. The doctor had warned her that if she kept donating blood and overextending herself, her immune system would eventually collapse. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. So yes, she had been losing weight—rapidly. But no one seemed to notice. William’s brow furrowed, carving deep lines across his face. His patience was wearing thin. “Jane, stop this nonsense, will you?” he said with a sigh. “No matter what, Summer is your sister—your blood relative. And now, just to avoid donating blood, you’re making up lies like this?” “Why are you even wasting time arguing with her?” Jane’s mother snapped coldly. “William, you need to keep an eye on her. What if she runs off the day Summer has her surgery?” “Mom, don’t say that…” Summer interjected quickly, her voice soft and soothing. “Jane, don’t worry. I’ll do my best to find other donors with the same blood type in the next few days. I won’t keep troubling you.” “She won’t run,” William said, taking Jane’s hand and pulling her out of the room. “I’ll take you home.” It had been a while since Jane had ridden in William’s car. Out of habit, she climbed into the passenger seat. When William first got this car, Jane had joked with him, “The passenger seat is for your girlfriend only.” He had laughed and said, “Don’t worry. Without Miss Jane’s permission, no one else will ever sit here.” But now, as she opened the door, she froze. The seat—the seat that had once been hers—was customized for Summer. A wheelchair, neatly folded, was placed there for easy access. The seat was adjusted far forward to accommodate Summer’s slim frame. And the faint scent of Summer’s perfume lingered in the air, unmistakable and pervasive. William approached, reaching for the wheelchair, but Jane stopped him. “Forget it. I’ll sit in the back,” she said. William hesitated, then offered an explanation. “She sits in the front so I can keep an eye on her. It’s easier for me to take care of her that way.” “I know. I know everything,” Jane said, rolling down the window. The hot night air rushed in, tangling her hair in disarray. Her voice, however, was lifeless, a barren wasteland devoid of emotion. “Everything is about my sister. Her health is all that matters. I don’t matter. Even if I’m dying, it doesn’t matter.” William slammed on the brakes, the car jerking to a halt. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, staring into the rearview mirror. When he finally spoke, his voice was heavy with frustration. “Jane, how can you say that? I’m really disappointed in you.” Jane laughed softly at his words, the sound light and hollow. William pressed on. “If it weren’t for your sister, I’d be the one who went to prison back then. I’d be the one who almost ended up crippled. I owe her too much, Jane. I can’t just walk away from her. “And she’s your sister, your family. How can you be so cold to her?” He exhaled sharply, his frustration spilling over. “Half a year ago, I went with you to get a full check-up. The doctor said you were perfectly healthy. It’s just some blood, Jane. Donating it won’t kill you. “Can’t you hold on for just a little longer? Once Summer’s surgery is over, everything will be fine.” Jane looked at him, and for the first time, she realized she had never truly known this man. This was the man who had once saved her from her cage. And now, he was the one locking her back inside. Jane’s voice was calm when she asked, “You’re not planning to just take care of her for a little while, are you?” William froze, a flicker of panic crossing his face. “I saw the property deed,” Jane continued. “She’s going to be living next door to us. You’re planning to take care of her for the rest of your life.” William pounded his fist against the steering wheel, his eyes bloodshot. “I owe her!” “Then keep owing her,” Jane said as she pushed the car door open and stepped out. Before walking away, she turned and added, “William, I hope you and the Faulkners understand one thing: I don’t owe Summer anything.” Her figure quickly disappeared into the crowd. William remained in the car, sitting in stunned silence. His mind replayed the look Jane had given him before she left. Her gaze had been calm, but there was a finality to it—decisive and unyielding. His eyes drifted to the back seat, where a slip of paper caught his attention. It was a cancer diagnosis. William’s calls came in rapid succession. Jane declined the first, but he kept calling, forcing her to answer. Before she could say a word, William’s voice came through, sharp and anxious. “What’s this about a cancer diagnosis?!” Jane froze, realizing she had accidentally left the paper behind. After a brief pause, she replied softly, “It’s for a friend. She knew I go to the hospital often and asked me to pick it up for her.” William let out a long breath, relief flooding his voice. “Thank God. Have you made it home yet? If not, let me come pick you up—” In the background, Summer’s voice chimed in, playful and insistent. “But I really want those dumplings from that one place! And I want them now!” Jane cut him off before he could answer. “You’re busy. I’ll make it home on my own.” She hung up decisively. Listening to the dial tone, William felt a strange emptiness in his chest. He wondered if he had missed something. But Summer, now dressed and glowing with excitement, looked up at him with stars in her eyes. “William, are we leaving now?” He could only nod. “Yeah. Let’s go.” It was past midnight when William finally came home. He slid into bed, his cold body waking Jane from her sleep. She instinctively shifted away, but William rolled over and pulled her into his arms. His voice was heavy with exhaustion. “Jane… just let me hold you.” “These past few months have been so hard. “Thank God you’re still here with me. Between the company and the hospital, I don’t think I could’ve kept going without you…” He kissed the back of her head, and for a moment, Jane’s heart softened. But then her eyes fell on the new ring on his finger. It was from a brand known for selling rings that could only be purchased as a pair—rings meant for soulmates. When William had proposed to her, she had asked why he hadn’t chosen that brand. She had wanted it so much. William said lightly, “If I’m giving you a gift, of course, it has to be the best and most expensive one.” The ring was, indeed, worth a small fortune. But to her, its value paled compared to its brand. She didn’t like it. Still, she wore it anyway. Her cold fingers pressed against William’s palm, brushing over the ring. She asked softly, “Is it a couple’s ring?” William froze, his composure slipping. “Oh, I went shopping with Summer today. She saw the ring and thought it was pretty. They were sold as a set, so I bought both. She insisted I try one on, and I… forgot to take it off.” As he spoke, he sat up halfway, quickly slipped the ring off his finger, and carefully placed it into a jewelry box on the nightstand. Jane’s stomach twisted painfully. Watching his back, she felt a wave of nausea rise, the kind that made every fiber of her body scream in discomfort. She thought to herself how foolish she was—just moments ago, she’d been debating whether or not to forgive him. But how could she? Turning to the side, she gagged several times, her face pale and drained of all color. William rushed to her side, gripping her arm. “Jane, what’s wrong?” “Nothing… probably just a chill. My stomach hurts a bit,” Jane evaded his touch, and to her surprise, even his mere presence now made her feel sick. “I’ll just take some meds. It’s fine.” William hurried to the living room to fetch her some medicine. But before he could find it, Summer’s call came in like a siren. Her voice was tearful. “William, I had a nightmare. I dreamed I was in prison, locked in the dark, and people were hurting me. I was in so much pain… I was so scared…” “Please, can you come over? I need you.” Without a second thought, William bolted out the door. He didn’t even glance back at Jane, not once, even as she curled up on the floor, unable to straighten from the pain in her stomach. Jane was later diagnosed with acute gastroenteritis. At the ER, the pain was so severe she nearly blacked out. A nurse asked her for an emergency contact. Jane hesitated, then dialed William’s number. To her surprise, William answered with, “I was just about to call you. You need to come to the hospital right away—Summer’s anemia is acting up, and she needs a transfusion.” Jane paused, her voice hoarse. “William, I’m not feeling well…” “Isn’t it just a stomachache? Take some medicine and stop being so dramatic,” William snapped, clearly losing patience. “This is a life-or-death situation—get here now!” Jane hung up without another word. William called several more times, but she muted her phone and ignored them all. After getting an IV, Jane finally felt some relief and drifted into a deep sleep. When she woke up, it was already the next afternoon. Her phone was flooded with missed calls from William and countless text messages. The last one read: “Jane, that’s your sister. How can you be so heartless?” Jane let out a bitter laugh. She laughed and laughed until tears rolled down her face. Pulling out the IV needle, she slowly made her way to the third floor, where Summer’s room was. What greeted her was unexpected—a lively, almost celebratory atmosphere. The kind of buzz that didn’t belong in a hospital. A small group of patients and visitors crowded near the door, craning their necks to peek inside. Jane approached, and someone immediately stepped aside for her, grinning. “Oh, look who’s here! Your sister’s in there confessing her love to your brother-in-law. It’s so romantic!” Jane felt a chill run down her spine. Goosebumps erupted all over her skin. Peering into the room, she saw Summer sitting in a wheelchair, holding a large bouquet of red roses. William stood in front of her, his back to Jane. Summer was smiling, her eyes shimmering like they held all the stars in the sky. “William, I’ve actually had a crush on you since college. All these years, I’ve always liked you.” “I know saying this might trouble you, but I just had to get it off my chest. For the rest of my life, I’ll never love anyone else.” “No one will ever treat me like you do.” Her eyes glistened with tears as she gazed at William, her voice filled with emotion. William stood frozen, unable to respond. The crowd outside the room erupted in encouragement. “What are you waiting for? Say yes already!” “Yeah, everyone knows you’re always here for her. You two are obviously made for each other!” “Don’t let this chance slip by, man! Girls with her kind of courage don’t come around every day. Hold on to her!” William hesitated, finally opening his mouth. “But I’m still with—” “William,” Summer interrupted, her voice trembling and her eyes now red-rimmed. She lowered her head, her fragile neck bowing like a butterfly with a broken wing, lifeless and defeated. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You can reject me. Maybe… maybe I don’t deserve happiness after all.” She let out a sad smile, her eyes full of hurt. “Really, you don’t have to give me an answer. I just wanted you to know how I feel…” “I’m already broken. Even if surgery can save me, I’ll never be the same as I was before…” The next moment, William took the bouquet from Summer’s hands. He pulled her into a gentle embrace, his hand softly brushing over the top of her head, his voice tender and comforting. “How could I ever think that, Summer?” he said quietly. “You have to keep going, to stay strong. Don’t give up—not for yourself, but for me. No matter what happens, you’ll always have me.” The room erupted into cheers, celebrating Summer’s “successful confession” as if it were the happiest moment in the world. Only Jane remained silent. She turned and walked away, making no effort to stay. It was then that Summer spotted her. In surprise, she called out over the excited crowd, “Jane? When did you get here?” After paying her hospital bill, Jane noticed William waiting at the entrance. His expression was calm, as though he’d been standing there for some time. Seeing the receipt in her hand, William walked over and asked, “Were you sick?” Jane gave him a faint smile, her tone almost teasing. “Yeah, I am. Maybe I’m dying soon.” William’s expression changed instantly. He grabbed the receipt from her hand, looking panicked, but when he saw the diagnosis was just gastroenteritis, he exhaled in relief. “Jane, don’t joke about things like that,” he said, his tone heavy. Jane chuckled lightly before asking, “What counts as a joke, William? Summer confessed to you, and you accepted. Does that count as one?” William rubbed his temples, letting out a long sigh. “Jane, I’m sorry. You saw the situation. I couldn’t exactly reject her in front of everyone…” Jane let out a soft laugh—not angry, just distant. William continued, trying to explain. “Her surgery is the day after tomorrow. If I upset her now, she might refuse the operation. I didn’t want to risk saying something that would affect her mood.” As he spoke, Jane seemed to realize something—the seven days were almost up. “She’s been through so much already,” William added. “She’s fragile after everything that’s happened since she got out. Once the surgery is over, she’ll recover, and everything will go back to normal.” Jane’s expression remained calm, her voice steady as she replied, “It’s fine. I’m not upset.” William seemed relieved that she wasn’t angry. He even went so far as to reach out and take her hand gently, as if to seek her approval. “There’s something else I wanted to talk to you about,” he said hesitantly. “Our wedding was supposed to be in two months…” William paused, clearly struggling to put his thoughts into words. “But after talking to the doctor, I realized that Summer’s physical and mental state will take at least six months to stabilize after the surgery.” “She told me she loves me, Jane. I’m worried that if we move forward with the wedding now, it might upset her. So I was thinking… maybe we could just get the marriage license and postpone the ceremony until next year?” Jane looked at him, her lips curving into a faint smile. “You’ve clearly already made up your mind. Why are you even asking for my opinion?” William sighed deeply. “Jane, you’ve always been the understanding one.” “Just think of her as a child throwing a tantrum for candy. Don’t take it personally.” Jane stood there in silence for a long time before finally speaking. “William, do you remember what you said to me when you first encouraged me to leave my family?” William froze, caught off guard. “What did I say?” “You said the loudest child always gets the most attention. That Summer was too good at crying, too good at demanding, and that I couldn’t keep backing down.” Jane’s tone was calm, but every word cut deep. “And now, you’re asking me to be the one who compromises,” she added. William looked at her, confused. “What are you trying to say?” Jane didn’t have the energy to explain anymore. She simply shook her head. “Forget it. Do whatever you want.” William thought she was giving him permission and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you for understanding, Jane.” But Jane’s silence wasn’t understanding. It was resignation. That evening, William drove Jane home before returning to the hospital. Before leaving, he rolled down the car window and reminded her, “Don’t forget—Summer’s surgery is at 8 a.m. the day after tomorrow. Make sure you’re there in case she needs a transfusion during the operation.” “I probably won’t have time to pick you up, so call a cab. And could you bring some soup? She’ll need something soft to eat after the surgery.” Jane simply nodded. “Got it.” As William drove away, he glanced in the rearview mirror. Jane’s figure grew smaller and smaller in the distance. For a moment, a strange feeling of emptiness settled over him. She was right there, standing still. So why did it feel like she was slipping further and further away? William shook off the thought, pressing the gas pedal as he headed back to the hospital. The day before Summer’s surgery, Jane quietly took care of everything. She arranged for her body to be donated. The forged cancer diagnosis and death certificate were handed over to the agency. Every asset she owned was transferred to a new offshore account. At 8 a.m. on the day of Summer’s surgery, Jane boarded a plane in disguise, her face hidden beneath a hat and sunglasses. As the plane taxied down the runway, a text came through from William’s mother: “Where are you? Why aren’t you here yet? Are you seriously going to let your sister die?” “Get to the hospital NOW!” Moments later, William’s calls and messages began flooding in one after another: “Jane, where are you? Stop messing around and get here.” “Summer needs a transfusion. Are you really going to just stand by and watch her die?” Jane scrolled through the messages calmly, then composed one final text: “William, this is the 45th day since I was diagnosed with cancer. I’ve realized I can’t continue anymore. Physically and emotionally, I’ve been fighting this battle alone.” “I’ve decided to stop treatment. Don’t bother looking for me.” “Goodbye. I hope you and Summer find happiness.” She snapped her SIM card in half without hesitation. She knew that in ten days, the agency would deliver her death certificate and a forged letter to William. Jane, as they knew her, would cease to exist.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295376”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #玄幻Fantsy #重生Reborn

## For three years, I was nothing more than the secret lover of Lucas Stone, the most powerful and stoic CEO in Silvergate City. And then, I got pregnant. Lucas made it clear from the start—he didn’t like kids. Worse, he was already planning to marry a socialite from one of the wealthiest families in the city, someone “suitable” for his status. But I wasn’t giving up my baby. So, I packed my things, emptied my savings, and disappeared into the night. Four years later, I was living a quiet life in a small town with my son, Leo. Life wasn’t easy, but we managed. Leo was smart, cheerful—and heartbreakingly handsome. Too handsome, in fact. One day, a photo of him went viral online. People couldn’t get enough of his piercing blue eyes and mischievous smile. Seeing an opportunity, I started a livestreaming channel featuring Leo. To my surprise, our little corner of the internet blew up, and I built a career out of it. But with popularity came scrutiny. It didn’t take long for people to figure out I was a single mom. To protect my privacy—and avoid awkward questions—I told everyone the same story: “I’m divorced. My husband passed away.” The narrative worked. My audience loved it. I became a symbol of independent motherhood, a beacon of strength for women everywhere. Life was good. Until one day, I noticed something strange. My top supporter on the platform—a user who consistently sent generous donations—had a profile picture and location eerily familiar to me. No. It couldn’t be. Lucas Stone? The man who wouldn’t know what a livestream was if it hit him in the face? No way. But before I could make sense of it, my doorbell rang. I opened it to find Lucas standing there, towering over me, his dark eyes burning with anger. He didn’t say a word—just pushed me against the wall, his voice low and dangerous. “Widowed?” he growled, his lips curling in a sneer. “Funny, because I don’t remember dying.” Before I could respond, he grabbed Leo’s shirt collar with one hand, lifting him up effortlessly. His gaze turned even darker as he looked at me, his voice dripping with fury. “And this?” he snarled, pointing at Leo. “Care to explain this?”

My Name is Lily Hart, and I Was the Secret Mistress of Silvergate’s Cold-Hearted CEO, Lucas Stone For the past three years, I’ve been Lucas Stone’s hidden lover. Our arrangement has always been simple: no strings, no complications, just business. Until today. Clutching my pregnancy report, I felt both nervous and excited as I walked into his company. Lucas was still in a meeting, so his secretary asked me to wait in his office. That’s when I noticed it—a wedding catalog sitting casually by his computer. Lucas Stone, looking at wedding dresses? For a brief moment, my heart soared. Could it be because of something I’d said? I had once mentioned wanting to take some bridal-style photos, just for fun. Maybe he remembered. Maybe, just maybe, I wasn’t as insignificant to him as I thought. But my fragile hope shattered in the next instant. Through the glass wall, I saw Lucas walking down the hallway. He wasn’t alone. A tall, elegant woman clung to his arm, laughing softly as they walked together. I recognized her immediately. She was the woman I’d seen in his private photo album—the one he once called his “white moonlight.” His first love. I lowered my head and let out a bitter laugh. Of course. Why would Lucas Stone ever care about me? His long-lost love had returned. He was looking at wedding dresses because they were getting engaged. I was nothing more than a convenient distraction—a woman he could discard when the real thing came back. I grew up in a broken home. My mom passed away when I was little, and my dad remarried, starting a new family without me. I was left to live with my grandfather in a rural town. When he suffered a stroke and became bedridden, I was the one who covered his medical bills. By the time I got to college, I was juggling classes and part-time jobs just to pay for tuition and keep my grandfather’s treatments going. Then, during my junior year, I heard that working as a waitress at a nightclub paid four times more than my café job. Desperate, I applied. That’s where I met Lucas Stone. He was drunk that night, drowning in heartbreak from a failed relationship. I was unlucky enough to be assigned to his private room. Before I knew it, he’d pulled me into his suite. The next morning, I could barely stand. My legs were so weak that my manager noticed I hadn’t finished my assigned work and fired me on the spot. I couldn’t explain what had happened. I didn’t dare. All I could do was demand that Lucas compensate me for the job I’d lost. To my surprise, he didn’t just agree—he offered me something else. “A high-paying job,” he said casually. “Take care of me, and you’ll make more than enough.” It was degrading, but I couldn’t say no. I’d already given him my first night. What was the point of holding onto my pride now? And Lucas Stone wasn’t exactly a bad deal. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with abs that looked like they belonged in a movie. His tanned skin and sharp jawline made him look like he’d stepped off the cover of a luxury magazine. Sleeping with him wasn’t exactly a sacrifice. After two seconds of hesitation, I agreed. We signed an agreement: $30,000 a month, on the condition that I would be on call whenever he needed me. When we finalized the deal, he looked me in the eye and said, “Don’t fall for me. I won’t take responsibility.” He didn’t believe in love. And I pretended I didn’t either. For three years, I played my part perfectly. I never asked for more than what we agreed upon. But now his first love was back. He was getting married. Our arrangement was coming to an end. And to make things worse, I was pregnant. This baby couldn’t have come at a worse time. I slipped the ultrasound report back into my bag, my heart sinking. Just then, the office door opened. Lucas walked in, his tailored suit sharp and immaculate, his expression as cold and unreadable as ever. He sat down at his desk, glancing at me briefly. “What do you need?” I hesitated. For a moment, I wanted to tell him about the pregnancy. But what was the point? He was about to get engaged. The moment our arrangement ended, he’d never think of me or this baby again. And I couldn’t let that happen. This child was all I had, my only family in the world. I couldn’t lose them. So instead, I walked over to him with a smile and poured him a glass of water. “I saw a jewelry set I liked,” I said casually, making up an excuse. Lucas leaned back in his chair, his sharp eyes studying me. “What kind of jewelry? Didn’t I just buy you some last month?” “There’s a new jade and diamond necklace from Orlvis. It’s not too expensive—just a little over $20,000. I thought it might look nice on me.” He chuckled softly, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine. “I’ll have my secretary take you to buy it later.” Feigning excitement, I leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Lucas.” For a moment, his usually cold features softened. He reached out to brush his thumb across my cheek, his voice dropping an octave. “That’s all you have for me?” he murmured, his dark eyes flicking to my lips. A good mistress always knows how to read her benefactor. I immediately understood what he wanted. Smiling shyly, I climbed onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. Tilting my head, I leaned in to kiss him, my heart pounding. Even sitting still, Lucas had an overwhelming presence. His lips were cool at first, but the kiss quickly deepened. Before I knew it, he had taken control, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. His breath was hot against my skin, the scent of cedarwood filling the space between us. He lifted me effortlessly, carrying me into the private lounge attached to his office. But just as he pressed me down onto the couch, a sharp pain shot through my abdomen. Panic jolted through me, and I instinctively pushed him away. Lucas frowned, his frustration evident. “What’s wrong?” “I… I got my period,” I stammered, clutching my stomach protectively. “Isn’t it supposed to be next week?” Lucas’s sharp gaze locked onto me, his brows slightly furrowed as though he already knew I was lying. My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay calm and put on a strong front. “I’ve been staying up late a lot recently. My hormones are all over the place. Is that a problem?” He leaned back slightly, his weight lifting off me as a rare note of irritation crept into his voice. “And yet you still thought it was a good idea to come and tease me?” Lucas sat up, straightened his tie, and adjusted his suit, which had been rumpled during our earlier… struggle. Taking the chance, I quickly got up as well, smoothing down my clothes. But I couldn’t let go of my lingering frustration, so I asked, “Lucas, do you even like kids?” “No,” he answered bluntly, without hesitation. Of course. The icy finality in his tone hit me harder than I expected, and I felt my heart sink. Then, as if sensing something, he turned to look at me. “Why are you suddenly asking?” I forced a laugh, keeping my tone light and casual. “Oh, no reason. I just saw a little boy down in the apartment lobby earlier. He was lost, and he was so cute.” Lucas narrowed his eyes, studying me. “You want a kid?” “What? No way,” I replied quickly, waving my hand dismissively. “I just thought he was adorable. Honestly, if it were me, I don’t think I’d ever want to go through the trouble of having one.” “Good,” Lucas said curtly, his tone as cold as ever. He stood, adjusted his cufflinks, and opened the door to the lounge without sparing me another glance. I followed him out, my steps quick to match his. As I left his office building, my resolve solidified. I had to leave. I checked my bank account balance: $50,000. It wasn’t enough. Not even close. My grandfather was still in the hospital, and I was responsible for his medical bills. Even if I left Silvergate for a while, I had to make sure he was taken care of. That $50,000 would have to go to him. And then there was the baby. I’d need at least a year to give birth and raise my child before I could return to see my grandfather. But right now, I didn’t have enough money to cover both my pregnancy and his medical expenses. I needed more. I didn’t have much time left. Sooner or later, my pregnancy would start showing, and Lucas would notice. After a lot of thought, I decided to sell every piece of jewelry, every designer bag, and every luxury gift Lucas had ever given me. It was the only way. At the pawnshop, I watched as the store owner carefully inspected each item. Finally, he came back with a total: $50,000. I stared at him, stunned. “That’s it? These are designer pieces—some of them are limited edition! Lucas spent hundreds of thousands on these!” The man sighed and explained patiently, “Luxury items lose value the moment they’re secondhand. They’re not like gold. This is the best I can offer.” Disappointed, I handed over my bank details and waited for the money to transfer. As I turned to leave, a voice stopped me in my tracks. “Well, well, Lily. Is money so tight these days?” I froze, recognizing the voice immediately. Turning around, I found myself face-to-face with a sophisticated middle-aged woman dressed in elegant designer clothing. Her presence radiated authority and wealth. It was Lucas’s mother, Helen Stone. Panic gripped me. “No, Mrs. Stone,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. Her sharp gaze and air of superiority made it impossible to meet her eyes. I instinctively took a step back, wanting to escape. “Wait,” she said coldly. “I have something to discuss with you.” We ended up in a nearby café. Helen sat across from me, her expression calm yet undeniably condescending. Without a word, she slid a check across the table. “One million dollars,” she said, her tone dripping with disdain. “Leave Lucas. He’s getting engaged soon, and I don’t need you interfering.” For a moment, I was stunned. Then, joy surged through me. One million dollars. With the money I’d just made from selling my things, I’d now have $1.05 million—more than enough to take care of my baby and my grandfather for years. I picked up the check eagerly, unable to hide the excitement in my eyes. Helen raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by how quickly I accepted. Her look of disdain deepened. “That’s all it takes? A million dollars? I thought you’d try to ask for more.” I didn’t care what she thought of me. All that mattered was the check in my hand. With this money, I could finally leave Lucas behind. “Thank you, Mrs. Stone,” I said sincerely. “I promise I’ll honor our agreement. I won’t have anything to do with your son again.” But before I could even finish my sentence, a familiar voice cut through the air like ice. “Won’t have anything to do with me?” I froze. Slowly, I turned my head, and there he was—Lucas Stone. He stood just a few feet away, his piercing gaze locked onto me. His face was as breathtaking as ever, but his expression was cold and unreadable. I felt my blood run cold. “What deal are we discussing here?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. His eyes flicked to the check in my hand, the corners of his mouth tightening. I lowered my head quickly, avoiding his gaze. My hands trembled as I tried to hide the check, but it was too late. Lucas’s lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes darkened as he stepped closer, the tension in the air thick enough to cut. I didn’t dare say a word.

Helen’s voice was smug as she said, “See, Lucas? This woman is nothing but a gold digger. A million dollars, and she’d walk away without a second thought. All she cares about is our family’s money.” Lucas let out a sharp, icy laugh, grabbing my wrist with force and dragging me toward his car. Once inside, his cold, piercing gaze pinned me in place. “The check,” he demanded. I swallowed hard, my hands trembling as I carefully handed it over. He snatched it, and without hesitation, tore it into tiny pieces. My heart sank as I watched the check disintegrate, every shred of paper a painful reminder of the money I so desperately needed. But I didn’t dare protest. His eyes bore into mine, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths. “Heartbroken, Lily? Is that it? You think I’m only worth a million dollars to you?” My breath hitched. I had no idea who he was putting on this show of wounded pride for. Was this the same man who, three years ago, made it explicitly clear that we were to keep things strictly transactional? The same man who told me never to fall for him? Now he was the one acting betrayed? And let’s not forget—he’s the one who’s getting engaged. I didn’t answer his question. A million dollars might be nothing to him, but for someone like me, it was everything. Despite the frustration bubbling up inside me, I knew I couldn’t afford to antagonize him. Not yet. Not when I still needed his money. So, I lowered my tone, my voice soft and trembling. “You’re getting engaged, aren’t you?” Tears welled up in my eyes, making me look fragile and heartbroken. For a moment, Lucas’s cold demeanor faltered. His gaze softened, guilt flickering across his face. After a long pause, he finally muttered, “Maybe.” Maybe? What a joke. He was clearly getting engaged, yet he had the audacity to look at me like this—as if he were some tragic hero torn between duty and desire. Still, I played my part. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I whispered, “We’ve been together for three years. I never thought I’d feel this much for you, but… I respect your decision. I just hope you’ll be happy.” Now it was my turn to take the moral high ground. Lucas’s guilt deepened, and his grip on my hand tightened. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. I knew I had him. He sighed, his voice low and heavy with remorse. “I know it was my mother who forced you to leave. I’ll transfer the million dollars to your account myself. If anyone should compensate you, it should be me.” Bingo. Relief flooded through me. The million dollars was still within reach, and I could finally breathe again. For a while, neither of us spoke. Then, Lucas lifted his head, his expression conflicted, his voice hesitant. “We… we’ll end things next month.” Next month? Seriously? What, is he scheduling a breakup like it’s a business meeting? I was furious, but now wasn’t the time to show it. The money hadn’t hit my account yet, and I couldn’t risk blowing everything now. So, instead, I leaned into his chest, pretending to be the perfect, heartbroken girlfriend. “Although it hurts,” I said softly, “I’ll do what you say. I’ll listen to you.” Lucas seemed even more guilt-ridden at my response. He cupped my face gently, his voice warm and tender. “I’m sorry, Lily. I really am.”

For the Next Few Days I had to pretend as if nothing had happened, going about my days catering to Lucas’s every need like usual. Today was his birthday. Lucas is picky—a man with a taste for exclusivity. He only eats custom cakes from Crown Heights Bakery, a private, high-end patisserie. A while back, I wanted to surprise him. So, I enrolled in a private baking class with one of their top pastry chefs, just so I could make him a cake myself. This morning, I went to the bakery bright and early, determined to make him a cake he’d remember. But fate had other plans. As soon as I stepped into the kitchen, I ran into her. Chloe Young. Lucas’s ture love. I froze, instinctively wanting to avoid her. But to my surprise, she recognized me immediately. “Lily, isn’t it?” There was no point in hiding now. She was a born-and-bred socialite, with access to every whisper and secret in the city. Of course, she’d know who I was. “I didn’t expect Miss Young to know me,” I replied casually, keeping my tone polite. I grabbed the baking tools and ingredients, pretending to be completely unfazed by her presence. “Are you making a cake for Lucas?” Her tone was clipped, as though offended by my indifference. “Hm,” I hummed nonchalantly, keeping my focus on the task at hand. “Well,” she scoffed, “I’ve already ordered his birthday cake. There’s no need for you to bother. It’ll just go to waste—no one’s going to eat what you make anyway.” Her words stung, but I wasn’t about to let her see it. I shot her a sharp glance and replied with a sweet, mocking smile, “Oh, don’t worry. Lucas can have your cake during the day, and mine at night. After all, he spends every night at my place. I’d say our relationship is far more… intimate than yours.” Her face flushed with anger, her composure slipping. “How vulgar!” “Why don’t you ask him yourself?” I shrugged, turning back to my work. Seething, Chloe stormed out of the kitchen, her heels clicking furiously against the tiled floor. For the past three years, I’ve been the one celebrating Lucas’s birthdays with him. But now that Chloe’s back in the picture, I guess I’m no longer needed. That’s fine. If he doesn’t want the cake, I’ll eat it myself. I’ve been craving cake anyway. Making the cake wasn’t easy. My frosting skills were terrible, and it took me over ten tries to get it right. But I enjoyed the process. The chef was patient, walking me through each mistake until I finally produced something presentable. By the time I finished and brought the cake home, it was already afternoon. Exhausted from the morning’s effort—and from my pregnancy—I collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep almost instantly. When I woke up, the sky outside was already dark. A strange sense of loneliness crept over me as I lay there in the empty house. The silence was suffocating, and a wave of sadness washed over me. Lucas hadn’t come home. Of course, he hadn’t. Chloe was the one who mattered to him. He was probably with her now, blowing out candles and celebrating his birthday. I closed my eyes, trying to force myself back to sleep. But then, the mattress shifted beside me. The faint scent of cedarwood filled the air, familiar and comforting. I opened my eyes to find Lucas sitting next to me, his dark eyes warm with amusement. His voice was soft, almost teasing. “Awake now? Were you not planning to celebrate my birthday with me?” I stared up at him, my emotions suddenly overwhelming me. Tears welled up as I felt a lump in my throat. “You’re back so late,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. Lucas raised an eyebrow. “I left work at four-thirty and came straight home. I’ve been waiting for you—for hours.” I blinked, confused. “I thought… I thought you wouldn’t come back.” “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked, his tone light. “Didn’t you say you had a surprise for me? Don’t tell me you forgot.” I quickly wiped my tears and sat up. “Oh! I didn’t forget!” Hurrying to the kitchen, I retrieved the cake from the fridge and carried it out to him. “Ta-da!” I said, presenting it with a big grin. “This is your surprise! I made it myself. Is it a good one?” Lucas smiled, a rare, genuine expression. “You put a lot of effort into this,” he said, his voice soft. “Of course I did! So… what’s my reward?” I teased, batting my eyelashes. He chuckled and pulled me close, his voice low and indulgent. “I’ll have my secretary transfer a million dollars to your account—and throw in the deed to this house.” I froze for a moment, stunned by the unexpected generosity. My heart raced, but I quickly composed myself, putting on a show of reluctance. “Lucas, I don’t care about money or property.” He cupped my face gently, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “But I care. I want to make sure you’re taken care of.” We ate the cake together on the couch, watching a show. Lucas usually only eats a single slice, but tonight he had several. I rested my head on his lap, gazing up at his sharp jawline. He wasn’t a good man—not by any stretch. But God, he was beautiful. I placed a hand on my stomach, thinking about the baby. If they inherited even half of Lucas’s looks, they’d grow up to be stunning. Then a thought occurred to me. Lucas had said he came straight home after work. Did that mean he hadn’t celebrated with Chloe? Was it possible that, deep down, I still meant something to him? Unable to stop myself, I called his name softly. He didn’t look away from the screen, but his voice was warm. “Yeah?” “If I… if I were pregnant, would you want the baby?” That got his attention. His head snapped down, and his hand instinctively rested on my stomach. His gaze was serious, searching. “Are you pregnant?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. I hesitated, my heart pounding. “No… I mean, what if I were?” Lucas thought for a moment, his hand still on my stomach. “I don’t like kids. Never have. But if there was a baby…” I held my breath, waiting for him to finish. But before he could, his phone rang. The ringtone was familiar, and so was the name on the screen. Chloe. Lucas hesitated, then answered the call. I couldn’t make out her words, but her voice was soft and sweet. Lucas’s tone, however, remained neutral, and the call ended quickly. When he hung up, he turned to me. “I have to go back to the estate. Don’t wait up—get some rest.” I nodded quietly, watching him leave. The door clicked shut, and the emptiness of the house returned. I knew where he was going. Back to Chloe.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295375”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #玄幻Fantsy #重生Reborn

## It happened during an Antarctic expedition. A sudden avalanche buried us both. I gave everything I had to save her, pushing her to safety while the snow swallowed me whole. I was left behind, frozen forever in that icy wasteland. When she didn’t see me emerge from the snow, she assumed the worst—that I had abandoned her to save myself. It didn’t take long for her to fall into the arms of another man. “Jason, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have survived,” she sobbed. “I’m divorcing him. I want to be with you.” Later, our expedition made headlines, earning a Guinness World Record for our achievement. Ironically, my wife’s newfound fame led her to sign on as a guide with an Antarctic research team. But fate has its ways. On her next trip south, another avalanche struck. This time, the snow unearthed my body. The truth came crashing down like the ice that had buried me. She fell to her knees before my frozen corpse, wailing in regret. At the Guinness World Record ceremony, I stood in the shadows, watching her accept the award. My wife—ex-wife now—stood on stage, smiling for the cameras. Our five-person team had accomplished something historic: trekking through the Antarctic during polar night, documenting phenomena no one had recorded before. The achievement filled a gap in human history. It was a feat worth celebrating. But for me, the memory was tainted. The journey had been perilous, every step a gamble with death. Thanks to the route I had meticulously planned, we had made it almost to the end. Almost. Then the avalanche came. I used every ounce of strength to save her, shoving her out of harm’s way. And for that, I paid the ultimate price. Now, I was nothing more than a silent witness. My soul lingered, unseen, as she basked in the glory I’d died for. A reporter asked her a question from the crowd. “Ms. Bennett, you’ve become a global icon for female adventurers. Many young women look up to you as a role model. Do you have any advice for them?” She smiled into the camera, her polished image on full display. “Choose your partners wisely,” she said sweetly. “You really see someone’s true colors in life-or-death situations.” Then, with a deliberate pause, she added, “This expedition also showed me my ex-husband’s true nature. I have to thank Jason for saving me.” Her words twisted the knife in my chest. After I’d saved her, she’d searched for me in the chaos. But Jason, ever the opportunist, seized the moment. He told her I had abandoned her to save myself. He even produced a doctored video of me running during the avalanche, claiming he was the one who had pulled her from the snow. Fueled by anger and betrayal, she had filed for divorce the moment we returned home. Now, a year later, it was finalized. She was single again, free to rewrite the past however she liked. Another reporter jumped in with a provocative question. “Ms. Bennett, you recently finalized your divorce. Do you have any lingering feelings for your ex-husband?” Her smile vanished, replaced by a look of disdain. “Feelings? None,” she said coldly. “In fact, I’d like to use this opportunity to send him a message.” She turned to the camera, her voice sharp. “Zach Carter, you left me to die in that avalanche. Then you hid from me for an entire year out of guilt. Now that the court has finalized our divorce, I want to make it clear: we are done. Forever.” The live stream chat erupted with outrage. “Who takes their wife to Antarctica and runs when it gets dangerous? Disgusting!” “Marriage is supposed to be a partnership. This guy’s a coward.” “‘In sickness and in health’ doesn’t mean anything anymore, huh?” The reporter, sensing an opportunity to fan the flames, pressed on. “Ms. Bennett, is it possible your ex-husband didn’t abandon you? Could he have… died in the avalanche?” She shook her head firmly. “First of all, I have video evidence of him running. Second, he was wearing a biometric monitor. I’ve checked—it shows he’s alive and well. He just chose to disappear.” Her words brought a bitter smile to my face. If she had cared enough to look deeper, she would’ve realized I wasn’t hiding. I was gone. Truly gone. The spotlight shifted as Jason walked onto the stage. Under the gaze of the cameras, he dropped to one knee, holding out a ring. “Lia,” he said, his voice full of false sincerity, “let me be the one to protect you from now on. In your darkest moments, I’ll be your light. In your happiest days, I’ll stand by your side. Will you marry me?” The crowd erupted in cheers. Tears filled her eyes as she nodded. “From the moment you saved me from that avalanche, I knew—you’re the one I was meant to be with.” And with that, she threw herself into his arms, their kiss fiery and passionate. I stood frozen, my chest tightening as though shards of ice were stabbing my heart. I had given my life for hers. And now, she stood there, kissing the man who had lied to her, who had stolen my sacrifice and called it his own. Fate was cruel, and I was its silent witness.

The proposal was just the start of the event. This wasn’t just a Guinness World Records award ceremony—it was also the official signing for Lia’s upcoming role with the Antarctic Research Team. She had been hired to lead the team across Antarctica, documenting the mysteries of polar night and filming a groundbreaking documentary. The signing went smoothly, and a month later, Lia and Jason arrived to meet the research team. However, as soon as she spotted one of the team members, her smile vanished. She frowned and took a step back. “DylanBlake,” she said sharply, “what are you doing here?” Dylansmirked, his expression cold and defiant. “I’m part of this team too. Why shouldn’t I be here? I’m going to Antarctica to uncover the truth.” His voice grew louder as he took a step toward her. “Lia, for an entire year, you’ve been telling everyone that Zach abandoned you during the avalanche. You claim he’s still alive, that he ran off and is hiding. But I waited for him, too—for a whole year. If he’s alive, why hasn’t he come back to me?” I sighed as I watched the scene unfold. Dylanhad been a close friend of mine. He was the youngest scientist on the Antarctic research team, passionate and brilliant. Before I’d left for Antarctica, he had asked me to collect some samples for one of his research projects. I’d succeeded in gathering the samples, but I never got the chance to deliver them. The avalanche had ended my journey—and my life. If I had any regrets, it was for my friends like Ethan, who had been left behind with no answers. Over the past year, Dylanhad tried repeatedly to reach Lia, desperate to know what had happened to me. But she had shut him out every time. When that didn’t work, she escalated—accusing him of harassment, filing complaints, and nearly costing him his spot on the research team. Now, here he was, standing in front of her, refusing to back down. Jason, ever the smooth talker, stepped in to diffuse the tension. “Ethan,” he said calmly, “the route Lia and I took last time was far too dangerous. We barely survived the avalanche ourselves. That’s why I’ve charted a new route for this expedition. We won’t be going anywhere near the old one.” Ethan’s face turned red with anger. He pointed a finger at Jason, his voice rising. “This isn’t about safety—it’s about hiding the truth! Zach didn’t abandon anyone. He died because of you two!” Lia crossed her arms, her expression icy. “Ethan, you’re a scientist. You’re brilliant when it comes to research. But when it comes to outdoor exploration, you’re out of your depth. Let the professionals handle this.” She glanced at Jason, then back at Ethan. “If Zach had listened to Jason’s advice last time, none of us would’ve been caught in the avalanche. He made reckless decisions, and look where that got him. Do you think you’d fare any better?” Her words cut deep, and I could feel the frustration bubbling inside me. Jason, a so-called “expert,” was actually my protégé. He’d only started learning about outdoor expeditions a year before our trip to Antarctica. If it hadn’t been for Lia insisting he join us, I never would’ve brought him along. His “new” route may have seemed shorter and safer on paper, but in reality, it was riddled with dangers. It passed through wolf-infested mountains and icy rivers prone to flash flooding. Any slip-up along the way could’ve been fatal for the entire team. The route I had planned, on the other hand, had been tested and proven safe. If it hadn’t been for the freak avalanche, nothing would’ve gone wrong. But Lia had ignored my decade of experience and placed her trust in Jason—a rookie who barely knew what he was doing. The irony was almost laughable. Before Dylancould respond, Professor White, another member of the research team, stepped in to calm things down. “Let’s not argue,” the professor said, pulling Dylanback. “We’re all here to work together, and we’ll leave the logistics to the professionals.” He turned to Lia and Jason with a polite nod. “Don’t worry. We’ll follow your route exactly as planned.”

Escorted by helicopters, the research team finally stepped onto the icy terrain of Antarctica. Lia immediately stepped forward, assuming command. “From this moment on, everyone must follow Jason’s and my instructions to the letter. No exceptions. We can’t afford any mistakes out here. Understood?” The team members nodded in agreement, including Ethan, though his expression was heavy with doubt. The First Few Days The first day passed uneventfully, and so did the second. But by the third day, trouble arrived. The team found themselves in the middle of a wolf pack’s hunting grounds. The male team members gripped their rifles tightly, scanning the snow for any movement. At the center of the group, Ethan’s face was grim as he turned to Lia. “This is only the third day, and we’ve already attracted a pack of wolves. Wolves don’t just wander off—they’ll stalk us from a distance until they find an opening. How are we supposed to conduct research like this?” Lia’s face darkened. “This must be a freak occurrence. We couldn’t have known the wolves would migrate to this area.” Behind her, Jason shrank back, hiding behind her like a child, avoiding eye contact with anyone. “Let’s just keep moving,” Lia said, trying to wave it off. “Maybe they’ll lose interest in a few days and leave us alone.” Professor White intervened before the argument could escalate. “It’s a minor setback, Ethan. We’ll keep an eye on the situation and proceed cautiously.” Reluctantly, Dylanlet it go. The Fifth Day By the fifth day, the strain was beginning to show. One of the team members fell ill, weakened by the harsh conditions. It didn’t take long for the wolves to notice. A lone wolf darted out from the shadows, closing in on the vulnerable team member. Bang! Jason fired his rifle, killing the wolf instantly. He turned to Lia, expecting praise for his quick thinking, but instead, the team erupted in anger. “What the hell is wrong with you?” one member shouted. “Do you not know the rules? You can’t just fire a gun out here! What if you trigger an avalanche?” “Not to mention,” Dylanadded coldly, “gunfire doesn’t scare off wolves—it provokes them. Congratulations, you’ve just made things worse.” Jason’s face turned red as he stammered, “I-I was just trying to help!” Lia immediately stepped in, shielding Jason from the team’s criticism. “He was just trying to save someone,” she said defensively. “He didn’t mean to make things worse. Cut him some slack.” From where I stood, watching unseen, I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. If this had happened on one of my expeditions, Lia would have torn into me without hesitation, blaming me for everything. But for Jason? She had endless patience. The Argument Ethan’s expression hardened. “Professor White,” he said sharply, “I think we need to call off this expedition. If we keep going, someone’s going to get seriously hurt—or worse. We’re here to conduct research, not throw our lives away because of poor planning.” Professor White hesitated, clearly torn. “The funding for this expedition was enormous. If we pull out now, we’ll waste months of preparation and resources.” “And if we don’t pull out?” Dylanshot back. “What happens when we run into something even more dangerous?” Lia’s voice cut through the tension like a knife. “Ethan, you’re being ridiculous. A little adversity is part of Antarctic research. If you can’t handle the risks, maybe you shouldn’t have come in the first place.” I knew exactly why Lia was so insistent on continuing. She wasn’t worried about science or safety—she was worried about her reputation. If the expedition failed, it would tarnish her carefully constructed image as a fearless adventurer. Ethan’s face turned red with frustration. “Adversity? You call this a little adversity? Do we need someone to get mauled to death before you admit this was a mistake?” Professor White’s expression wavered, clearly considering Ethan’s point. Sensing that she might lose the argument, Lia clenched her fists. “Oh, I see what this is about. You just want me to go back to his route, don’t you? Fine. Let’s do it.” She turned to Professor White. “Let’s use the route Zach planned before. Does that satisfy you, Ethan?” The professor nodded. “If he charted that route before, it should be safer. Let’s proceed.” Dylandidn’t object. I knew why. He didn’t trust Lia or Jason, but he trusted me. Even when the world had condemned me, accusing me of abandoning my wife, Dylanhad always believed in me. A Safer Path As soon as they switched to my route, the tension began to ease. The wolf pack disappeared by the fifth day, and the team was finally able to set up camp and focus on their research. For the next month, they worked without incident, completing all their objectives. But as the team prepared to move deeper into the frozen wilderness, I couldn’t take my eyes off the snow-covered mountain in the distance. That was where it had happened. That was where I had died. My body was still there, buried beneath layers of ice, hidden from the world. The Avalanche Site “Is this where it happened?” Ethan’s voice broke the silence as he walked up to Lia. Lia crossed her arms, her expression cold. “Yes,” she said flatly. “This is where Zach abandoned me. You wanted to know if he’s dead? Go ahead and look for him. I’d love to see if the man who left me behind is still out there somewhere.” Ethan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. Before he could say anything, one of the team members came running over. “Professor White, we’ve spotted something unusual nearby—a seal acting strangely. The area seems unnaturally quiet. It could be a sign of…” The professor’s face darkened. “Everyone, stay close. Keep your weapons ready, but don’t fire unless absolutely necessary. Let’s check it out.” The team moved cautiously, rifles raised, scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. When they reached the seal, they immediately noticed something odd. “There’s something attached to it,” Dylansaid, narrowing his eyes. “Could it belong to someone?” “Catch it,” Lia ordered. “And nobody fire a shot.” Working together, the team managed to capture the seal. When they examined it, they found a small device attached to its back. Ethan’s eyes widened as he recognized it. “Wait a second… This… This is Zach’s tracker from a year ago!”

“That’s it! This tracker belongs to Zach!” Dylanexclaimed, gripping the device tightly in his hand. His voice cracked with emotion as he looked up, glaring at Lia. “This can only mean one thing—Zach is dead. That’s why this device ended up on this seal!” Lia’s face froze, but before she could respond, Jason stepped forward, frowning defensively. “That’s impossible!” he snapped. “I saw him escape with my own eyes. You must be mistaken. Lots of explorers use trackers like this one.” Lia crossed her arms and scoffed. “Exactly. This doesn’t prove anything. The avalanche struck in the north, and we’re in the south now. There’s no way this tracker belongs to him—it must’ve been dropped by someone else.” But Dylanjust laughed bitterly, tears streaking down his face. “Oh, really? Then explain why the initials ‘ZC’ are engraved on the back! Lia, stop lying to everyone—Zach is dead, and you’re responsible for it!” Lia stared at the tracker in shock, her face pale. “That… that has to be a coincidence,” she stammered. Ethan’s voice trembled with fury. “A coincidence? The evidence is right here, and you’re still trying to deny it?!” At that moment, one of the team members called out from a distance. “There’s a body over here!” Everyone froze. The team rushed over and found a frozen corpse, its face unrecognizable from the harsh conditions. But something else caught Ethan’s attention—a small action camera strapped to the body’s chest. Ethan’s eyes lit up with determination as he turned to Lia. “Let’s see what’s on that camera. Once the footage is recovered, I want to hear you explain this!” The atmosphere grew tense as the team worked to recover the video. Finally, the camera flickered to life, but the screen was filled with static, green blurs, and distorted audio. One of the researchers scratched his head. “It looks like the file’s corrupted…” Lia let out a sigh of relief and crossed her arms. “Even if it worked, I’d know if that body was Zach’s. I don’t care if he’s turned to dust—I’d still recognize him. That isn’t him.” Jason nodded quickly, chiming in. “Exactly! Zach ran north when the avalanche hit. Even if he died, his body wouldn’t be here, in the south.” Dylanclenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his bloodshot eyes locked on Lia. Lia sneered, her tone dripping with bitterness. “Zach always claimed to love me. But when it really mattered—when the avalanche hit—I was unconscious, lying there in the snow. “And what did he do? He left me behind! If Jason hadn’t saved me, I’d be dead right now. Zach was nothing but a selfish coward. That body can’t be him!” Her words sent a ripple through the team, their anger and disgust aimed squarely at me. Suddenly, the researcher working on the camera let out a triumphant cry. “I fixed it! Everyone, come take a look!” The team crowded around as the video began to play. Lia glanced at the screen, her expression softening as she explained. “This footage is from two of our teammates who joined us on the last expedition. They were collecting fresh water when the avalanche hit, and we lost contact with them. I prayed they’d survived, but it looks like their bodies have been here all along.” She sighed heavily, her voice tinged with fake sadness. “They must’ve survived the avalanche but lost their equipment and succumbed to the cold. Ethan, they’re not the ones you’re looking for.” I watched the scene unfold with a heavy heart. I remembered those teammates clearly. After the avalanche, I had left the safety of our camp to look for them, knowing the shelter I’d set up had been designed to withstand the snow. That was when Jason had captured the infamous video of me “running,” twisting the truth into a lie that would haunt me even after death. But Dylanwasn’t ready to let it go. “What about the tracker?” he shot back. “How do you explain it, Lia? Did Zach ‘drop’ it while he was supposedly running away?” Lia hesitated, staring down at the device in her hand, her brow furrowed in frustration. Dylanlet out a bitter laugh. “Lia, do you even understand how a tracker works? Human and animal signals are completely different. Are you telling me you never noticed? Did you ever really care about Zach at all?” I flinched at his words. Even though I knew she couldn’t hear me, I whispered softly, “Lia… did you ever care about me?” I shook my head, laughing bitterly at my own foolishness. Of course, she didn’t. But to my surprise, Lia answered, her voice cold and cutting. “Of course I cared.” I froze. Her voice cracked as she continued, “I loved him more than anyone else in this world. I would’ve died for him without hesitation. I thought he was my everything.” Her expression darkened, tears glistening in her eyes. “But what did he do? When I needed him most, he abandoned me. He left me to die in the snow while he saved himself. Ethan, how can I love someone like that? How can I care about a man who ran away and left me behind?” Her voice broke as she shouted, her tears spilling over. I dropped to my knees in the snow, clutching my head. “Lia, I didn’t leave you! I swear I didn’t abandon you!” But all I could hear in response was the howling wind. I turned to Ethan, my last hope, silently begging him to defend me. Dylanclosed his eyes and sighed deeply. “Lia, what if I told you that Zach planned this entire expedition because he wanted to declare his love for you in front of the world?” Lia’s breath hitched, her eyes wide with shock. Dylancontinued, his voice softer now. “He wanted to cross the polar night with you so that when the sun finally rose, he could make you his forever.” “Do you really think someone who planned something like that would abandon you?” Lia stood frozen, her mouth opening and closing as if searching for words but finding none. Suddenly, one of the team members pointed at the camera. “Wait! There’s more footage!” he shouted excitedly.

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## A self-proclaimed rich girl came to our company for an interview today. Her answers were all over the place, yet somehow, she managed to beat out Ivy League graduates. “Oh no, I wasn’t ready earlier. Can we start over?” she said. The panel of interviewers froze, their fake smiles plastered on their faces. And so, the “exclusive” interview began. From morning till evening, it was all about her. By the time the city lights came on, the exhausted interviewers, looking like they’d just aged ten years, announced mandatory overtime for everyone in the company. That night, the rich girl posted a video: “Day 1 of inheriting my family business: Starting with a ‘secret identity’ interview.” I immediately called my mom. “Spill it. Do you have a secret love child, or am I some swapped-at-birth fake heiress?” A self-proclaimed rich girl came to our company for an interview today. Her answers were all over the place, yet somehow, she managed to beat out Ivy League graduates. “Oh no, I wasn’t ready earlier. Can we start over?” she said. The panel of interviewers froze, their fake smiles plastered on their faces. And so, the “exclusive” interview began. From morning till evening, it was all about her. By the time the city lights came on, the exhausted interviewers, looking like they’d just aged ten years, announced mandatory overtime for everyone in the company. That night, the rich girl posted a video: “Day 1 of inheriting my family business: Starting with a ‘secret identity’ interview.” I immediately called my mom. “Spill it. Do you have a secret love child, or am I some swapped-at-birth fake heiress?”

Today was interview day at the office. All the candidates had left, but somehow, the interview wasn’t over. “Didn’t the interviews finish already? Why aren’t the managers out yet?” Zach, who needed some signatures, was pacing back and forth, visibly frustrated. “Shh! You don’t know? The boss’s ‘daughter’ is still in there.” “What?!” “Yeah, the heiress. She even posted about it yesterday.” Suddenly, everyone perked up. Whispers spread like wildfire as gossip flooded every group chat. Curious, I clicked on the link in one of the gossip threads. “Tomorrow’s my big interview—what should I wear?” In the video, the enormous walk-in closet looked disturbingly familiar. And in the back corner? My best friend’s gift—a pair of my silk pajamas. My blood boiled. I immediately called the housekeeper. “Uncle Frank, is everything all right at home?” “Uh… yes, Miss Claire. Everything’s fine…” Uncle Frank’s usual calm demeanor was nowhere to be found. His hesitation sent a chill down my spine. Something was definitely wrong. “How’s my mom doing? Is she okay? When are you coming back?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. “She’s still in treatment. I’ll be back soon,” I said, keeping my voice steady. I’d been abroad since high school, receiving a top-tier education. Six months ago, when my mom suddenly fell ill, I brought her overseas for treatment. Her condition had stabilized, and I’d just finished my studies. It was time to return and take over the family business, as my mom had requested. To get a clear picture of how things were running, I decided to apply to the company anonymously, just to see what was really going on. A little undercover “work experience,” if you will. But I wasn’t expecting to walk into a scene straight out of a soap opera: a fake heiress playing dress-up in my house and pretending to be me. Staring at the messy pile of clothes and accessories in her video, all of which were mine, I clenched my fists. This was going to cost me, wasn’t it? No matter. I was going to find out who was behind this nonsense. That night, the fake heiress posted another video: “Day 1 of inheriting the family business: Starting with a ‘secret identity’ interview.”

The next morning, the gossip group chat exploded again. Someone had leaked photos of the fake heiress arriving at work. Wearing oversized sunglasses, “Mia” stepped out of a car—my car. She clutched an Hermès bag—my bag. And from the slightly ill-fitting suit she was wearing? That was my suit too. Of course, it looked a little loose on her, given her short and stocky frame. Before she even made it to the elevator, the fashionistas in the chat had dissected her outfit from head to toe. “She’s the real deal, all right! It’s like she’s wearing a whole mansion on her back!” “I wish I could be friends with a rich girl like that.” “Who wouldn’t want to be her bestie?” But their admiration didn’t last long. On her first day, the fake heiress immediately stole the team leader’s desk, claiming it had better lighting for her videos. The team leader’s polite smile froze on her face. By day two, she outright plagiarized a coworker’s report and passed it off as her own. By day three, she was randomly berating another coworker for “poor performance.” Every day, she updated her followers with videos portraying herself as the ultimate corporate powerhouse. According to her, the bosses were practically begging her to take over. She painted herself as a workplace prodigy, while the rest of us were reduced to her “supporting cast.” Her fans even gave us nicknames: “Useless Coworker #1,” “Useless Coworker #2,” and so on. The managers, spineless and sycophantic, let her do whatever she wanted. My coworkers were furious but too scared to speak up. Watching all of this unfold, my disappointment in the company’s leadership grew. I quietly documented everything in a little notebook, page after page filling up with her misdeeds.

3 It was time for our team’s product presentation. I’d spent several nights working overtime, perfecting the PPT slides. Just as I was about to take the stage, Mia strutted over, holding her phone up for a live stream. “Claire, what are you standing there for? Can’t you see the managers don’t have any water? Go fetch some, now!” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes darting nervously, though she tried to mask it with an air of superiority. “Such a lack of awareness,” she muttered. Turning to her live stream audience, she added in a sickly-sweet voice, “See, my precious fans? I have to be strict with these employees—they’re just too lazy without me!” I squinted at her, pretending to comply, and walked toward the door. But instead of leaving, I stopped just outside, leaning against the wall to listen. Sure enough, Mia had an ulterior motive. She confidently stepped up to the podium, opened the PPT I’d worked so hard on, and adopted a serious expression. “Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Mia, and I’ll be presenting today’s product overview.” She turned to the managers and added with fake humility, “I just joined the company, so my presentation might not be perfect. Please give me your feedback.” The team, catching on to her sly move, turned to look at me, their expressions a mix of disbelief and amusement. I crossed my arms and glared. My icy demeanor made them all shrink back a little. To her credit, Mia had a sweet voice, and she read through my slides word-for-word, as if they were her own. The room erupted into applause when she finished, and she flashed a wide, self-satisfied smile at her viewers, even winking at the camera. But then, someone interrupted. “So, what’s the design concept behind this product?” The applause died instantly. Mia froze, the question catching her completely off guard. The room fell silent as everyone turned to me. “Uh, the concept? Well, it’s… um… it’s designed to… increase revenue! Yes, that’s it—revenue!” Her face turned bright red as she stammered out a response. The room stayed quiet for a long, awkward three seconds before the department manager finally stepped in to smooth things over. “Well, at the end of the day, it’s all about contributing to the company’s success!” The audience murmured in agreement, but I felt disgusted. A market manager with no principles? How could this company ever grow? I sighed, frustrated. Later, Mia began to notice the growing dissatisfaction among her coworkers. To win them over, she began bringing in snacks and drinks every afternoon. “I ordered everyone some treats!” she announced, grinning. “Thanks, boss!” someone joked. “Don’t call me that—I am trying to keep a low profile!” Slowly but surely, her “sugar bombs” worked. My coworkers began warming up to her, overlooking her antics. But of course, Mia wasn’t about to let me off easy. “Oh no, Claire, I forgot you were here! I didn’t order anything for you—oops!” Her acting was atrocious, but the result was painfully effective. I was gradually ostracized by the team, left out of conversations and projects.

The company’s mid-year product sales meeting was fast approaching. The team leader assigned me to handle “service work.” “Service work? You mean, like a waiter?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, I’m just kidding,” he replied with a smirk. “But seriously, Claire, make sure everything’s perfect. No mistakes.” Mia covered her mouth, giggling as she exchanged smug glances with the others. The toxic atmosphere in the team was grating on my nerves. The team leader had no control over the chaos Mia stirred up, and I was running out of patience. Still, he had one announcement that caught everyone’s attention: “This time, Mr. Grant from Kingsman Group will be attending the meeting. He’s a key client, and his investment will determine next year’s orders. So, bring your A-game.” “Mr. Grant?” someone whispered. “THE Mr. Grant? The George Clooney of Wall Street?” The room buzzed with excitement. My female coworkers looked ready to faint, their cheeks glowing red. Mia’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. I, on the other hand, groaned inwardly. Why does it have to be him? The company was pulling out all the stops for the sales meeting. To secure Mr. Grant’s investment, everyone had been working overtime for a week, ensuring every detail was flawless. The day of the event, Mia, who wasn’t even part of the reception team, showed up early. “Claire doesn’t have the experience for this kind of high-stakes event,” she declared to the team leader. “I should handle the reception instead.” “This is too important to risk,” the team leader replied flatly. “You don’t have the expertise.” “Don’t worry. If anything goes wrong, I’ll take full responsibility,” Mia insisted, her tone laced with veiled threats. “And don’t forget—I’m going to inherit this company one day.” The team leader caved, unwilling to argue. I, meanwhile, couldn’t have been happier to avoid dealing with Mr. Grant. As the biggest investor, Mr. Grant arrived last, making an entrance that turned heads. Tall, sharp, and effortlessly charismatic, he strode into the room like he owned the place, his piercing gaze sweeping across the crowd. Mia’s face lit up as she rushed forward, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Mr. Grant, I’m Mia. I’ll be assisting you today,” she said with a forced giggle. He didn’t even glance at her, walking straight past as his eyes scanned the room. “Mr. Grant, you’re so funny!” Mia called after him, mistaking his indifference for teasing. “My dad owns Titan Group. He told me our families go way back.” Mr. Grant stopped abruptly, turning to look at her. His expression darkened, his piercing gaze now cold and scrutinizing. “Excuse me,” he said icily, “but the Grants and the Lee family are not ‘old friends.’” The room went dead silent. In reality, the Grants were close with my family—the Charlestons. Without us, the Lee family was nothing. Mia’s face turned pale as she stumbled back. Quickly, the team leader stepped in, trying to defuse the situation. “Mia, apologize to Mr. Grant. He’s just joking with you!” “Uncle!” Mia whined, her voice trembling, clearly trying to play the victim. Across the room, the other company executives exchanged knowing smirks. No one took Mia seriously anymore—except me. I clenched my fists, anger boiling inside me. Titan Group had been built by my grandfather and nurtured by my family for three generations. It was the heart of the Charleston legacy. And I wouldn’t let anyone—least of all Mia—tear it apart.

The product sales meeting was a disaster. As the chaos wound down, Mr. Grant—aka Ethan—shot me a knowing look, raising an eyebrow. I gave him a small nod in return. At the coffee shop downstairs: “Why are you here, Ethan?” I asked, sipping my coffee. “Someone’s been back in town for weeks and didn’t even bother to let me know. What was I supposed to do? Wait for a formal invitation?” He leaned back in his chair, his usual playful grin on full display. “And don’t pretend you didn’t miss me.” Ethan’s casual charm was in full force, complete with exaggerated winks and flirtatious smirks. “Alright, enough. What’s the deal with this Mia?” “Don’t worry,” I said, smirking. “She’ll be handled soon enough.” We hadn’t seen each other in ages, and the conversation flowed so easily that neither of us noticed the pair of angry eyes glaring at us from outside the café window. When I returned to the office, things felt… off. Everyone was staring at me, their expressions a mix of judgment and disdain. “Hmph, does she even know her place? Imagining she could catch Mr. Grant’s eye?” “Exactly. Throwing herself at him during the company event—what a disgrace! She embarrassed all of us.” Two coworkers who used to be friendly with me were now taking turns mocking me in whispers loud enough for everyone to hear. “Claire, how do you even have the nerve to show your face here?” Mia suddenly interjected, pointing a furious finger at me. “You’re shameless! Flirting with Mr. Grant instead of focusing on your work? Do you even want this job?” Her face was flushed with anger, but her tone was laced with triumph. “That’s ridiculous,” I replied calmly. “Ethan and I are just friends.” My words were met with laughter. “Friends? You? With someone like Mr. Grant?” Mia sneered, her voice dripping with condescension. “Yeah,” one of the others chimed in. “If you want to marry into money, maybe try reincarnating into a rich family first!” I glanced around at their mocking faces, keeping my composure. Then, I let a slow, deliberate smile spread across my lips. “Well, since you’re all in such a good mood,” I said, my voice sweet but cold, “you’ll be thrilled to hear the news: because of Mia’s poor performance during the meeting, the entire marketing department’s year-end bonuses have been canceled.” The office fell silent. The laughter stopped instantly, and everyone turned to me, their mouths agape in shock. Just moments earlier, I had contacted the head of the finance department—one of my mother’s most trusted employees. Ever since Mia had joined the company, the marketing department had descended into chaos. The leadership was spineless, the employees were lazy, and everyone spent more time scheming against each other than actually doing their jobs. When things went wrong, no one tried to fix them. Instead, they pointed fingers and gossiped. If they couldn’t self-correct, they deserved to face the consequences.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “295373”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #魔幻Magic #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #惊悚Thriller #玄幻Fantsy #重生Reborn