Author: Momo Chan

I’ve been secretly in love with Liam Hawthorne for years. In college, I was his fangirl. After graduation, I became his assistant. I handled all his business and personal affairs. Everyone said I would be the future Mrs. Hawthorne. But during a board meeting, he openly asked the shareholders: “I’m not getting any younger, it’s time for me to get married. My family has given me a few options, who do you think is suitable?” Several photos of beautiful women flashed on the screen. There were heiresses, business prodigies, and popular actresses… Any one of them would make me feel inadequate. I lowered my head, preparing to escape the meeting room and find a quiet place to nurse my wounded heart. To my surprise, he called out to me, asking seriously: “Miss Blackwood, you’re the closest person to me and know my temperament and preferences best. What’s your opinion?” From the moment Liam Hawthorne stepped into our university, he became the campus celebrity. His handsome face made a group of young girls swoon. Many tried various ways to approach him, and I was no exception. However, my method was quite old-fashioned. I planned to “accidentally” bump into him at the library. Who knew that a group of crazy fans would call me a schemer, not only kicking me out of the fan club but also treating me as an enemy. Because when I “accidentally” encountered him at the library, I was so nervous that I stepped on my own long dress and fell flat on my face in front of everyone. You think that’s the end of it? No! Liam, being a normal person, reflexively reached out to help when he saw a young woman about to fall in front of him. But the angle was off. I hurt my chin, and his watch was damaged too. After I recovered, I had to compensate him for the watch repair costs. He said, “It’s okay, she didn’t do it on purpose.” Our professor said, “No, she should at least make up for it somehow.” So, I was assigned to clean Liam’s dorm room. That’s when I found out he was living in a luxurious single room. I heard he was an exchange student. He had studied in France since he was young, then came back to our country for some reason, so he entered our school as an exchange student. The first time I went to clean, Liam was quite embarrassed, “Um, it’s just a watch, really no big deal. You don’t have to listen to the professor. I have a cleaning service here.” I initially thought about letting it go. After all, being too close to Liam only resulted in getting scolded, with no real benefits. But when I saw the schedule pinned to his desk, an idea struck me. I insisted on compensating him. So, I ended up cleaning his dorm for two years, until we left school and entered society. During those two years, I achieved financial freedom by selling information about his whereabouts and interests.

I was conflicted about liking Liam. On one hand, I genuinely liked him. After all, who wouldn’t like a man with money, looks, and knowledge? On the other hand, I felt insecure. I clearly knew the gap between us. After all, I was aiming for marriage, not a relationship that would end right after graduation. In the end, my feelings for him overcame my insecurity. After graduation, I worked hard to get into a big company. The goal was to increase my own value, then give myself the capital and courage to confess to Liam. I kept thinking to myself: “You have a superior family background and unparalleled good looks, but I also have enviable beauty and talent, with a bright future ahead. I’m worthy of you.” Unfortunately, just as I was about to make great strides in my career, he walked into the office I had carefully prepared for my future boss and sat very naturally in that chair that symbolized status. He smiled at me and said, “Fiona Blackwood, we really are destined to meet. In college, you cleaned my dorm, and now in the workplace, you’re cleaning my office?” I very seriously replied, “I’m sorry, Mr. Hawthorne, I’m your assistant. I’m responsible for many tasks you assign, but that doesn’t include cleaning.” He looked at me with interest for a while, then said, “Alright! But don’t sell my whereabouts anymore. That’s harmless on campus, but it’s quite serious in the real world.” And so, I “infiltrated” by his side for another five years. Always waiting for the right moment to make a move. Finally, I waited for the “good” news of his marriage.

As soon as I left the conference room, I was dragged into the break room by several young girls from the office. They eagerly asked me, “Sister Fiona, we heard Mr. Hawthorne proposed to you. Tell us the details!” Youth is wonderful! Even their gossip is so cute. They’re like flower buds just starting to bloom, so full of vitality. I really envy them. I beckoned, and someone immediately brought me a coffee. I took the coffee and sat down, putting on a face as if I was about to share the details, “Mr. Hawthorne is getting married, but he hasn’t proposed yet. And the person he’s proposing to isn’t me. The target was just decided.” My tone was calm, but it shocked the group of young girls into silence. They all stared at me with wide eyes. “The cleaning lady just came out saying Mr. Hawthorne is getting married, and he was asking for your opinion…” “It’s not you?” “Then who is it?” “Yeah, you and Mr. Hawthorne…” They chattered away, and I interrupted them to emphasize, “Mr. Hawthorne and I have a purely professional relationship as superior and subordinate.” “How is that possible?” “How is it not possible?” They still insisted, “How is that possible?” Then they started counting on their fingers, listing all my special privileges with Liam. I was the only woman who could get close to Liam. I was the only one who could freely move between his office and home. I was the special employee who had the CEO personally backing me up when I made mistakes. I was Liam’s exclusive companion at various important banquets and balls. “Enough, enough,” I said with an attitude of indifference, “These aren’t my special privileges, they’re the privileges of being the CEO’s assistant. If you became the CEO’s assistant, you could enjoy these privileges too.” They exclaimed in surprise, and one said, “Then why didn’t you ever explain when we joked about this before?” “Why should I explain,” I said cheerfully, “I have a puffed-up sense of vanity too!” “But Mr. Hawthorne never explains either?” I said, “He can’t hear your gossip.” The break room fell silent again. A young girl born in ’98 pouted and said, “Then all the flattery we gave you was for nothing?” “That’s right.” They looked like they wanted to settle accounts with me, and I said, “How could it be for nothing? Even after Mr. Hawthorne gets married, my privileges will remain. Except for not having to accompany him to various banquets and balls, and not having to arrange his life at home, everything else stays the same.” I happily and secretly told them, “And just now, Mr. Hawthorne promised to give me company shares. Who knows, maybe the future Mrs. Hawthorne will have to come to me to find out about Mr. Hawthorne’s affairs!” I took a sip of coffee, put down the cup, and walked away nonchalantly. Cursing in my heart, which little rascal made this coffee and forgot to add sugar? My heart was already as bitter as eating Gentian, and now it’s even more bitter on top of that.

I couldn’t help but go to the bathroom to throw up. Then, I washed my face with cold water. Looking at myself in the mirror, forcing a smile, I finally couldn’t hold up anymore. My face immediately crumpled, all the spirit instantly drained from my body, dejected like a defeated rooster. Just now in the conference room, Liam asked for my opinion. Holding back my inner sorrow, I turned back with a smile and said, “Mr. Hawthorne, I’m not a company shareholder. My opinion doesn’t matter, does it?” Liam coldly said, “Are you reminding me that I should give you company shares?” I swear, I didn’t mean that. Although, I am a bit of a money lover. “Fine! After all, you’ve been by my side all these years, working diligently. Giving you shares is appropriate. I also want to use this to motivate the company’s employees, showing that Hawthorne Corp will never mistreat those who have contributed.” Then, he very skillfully changed the subject, saying to the major shareholders, “Business marriages are a common tactic used by financial groups, so when you choose, please be sure to follow the principle of ‘maximizing group interests’.” I really couldn’t take this torture anymore, so I pointed at the photo in the upper right corner of the screen and said, “I think Miss Sinclair is more suitable… after all, I’m not very familiar with the others.” One shareholder chimed in, “Although Miss Sinclair’s Sinclair Group isn’t as financially powerful as our Hawthorne Corp, and she’s not the heir, her achievements in the entertainment industry can bring us tremendous public opinion value.” Then, many shareholders agreed it was a good choice. Finally, Liam made the decision, “Since everyone’s opinion is unanimous, let’s go with Miss Sinclair.” Most annoyingly, he even looked at me meaningfully and said, “The person Miss Blackwood approves of won’t disappoint me.” Damn it! At that moment, I wanted to slap myself silly. Weren’t wealthy families supposed to look down on people from the entertainment industry? Who would have thought that the one I picked with the least advantage would be approved by Liam? I really “shot myself in the foot” this time.

By the time I had organized the files and went back to Liam’s office to find him, he was already completely in work mode, as if the matter of marriage was an insignificant trifle to him. Seeing me come in, he looked up at me and asked, “Something wrong?” I handed him a document with both hands, very respectfully saying, “Mr. Hawthorne, please take a look.” He looked at me suspiciously, took the document, opened it to look, and let out a big sigh of relief, “You scared me, I thought this was your resignation letter.” I pretended to be puzzled and asked, “Why would I resign?” While signing the document, he said, “I’m getting married, some things might become inconvenient for you to do.” “As long as Mr. Hawthorne pays well, nothing is inconvenient for me to do.” Liam chuckled hearing this and handed the document back to me, “I like this money-loving side of you. It makes me feel that as long as I pay you, you’ll never betray me. It’s most reassuring for a boss to have such a secretary.” I clicked my tongue, took the document, unfolded it to look, and my eyes were dazzled, “Mr. Hawthorne, this… you won’t regret it, right?” Good heavens, he actually gave me 1% of the company shares directly? I thought he would write how many shares? Converted to a percentage, at most it would be zero point zero zero something percent. I didn’t expect him to be so generous? “This is what you deserve.” I held up the document, confirming again, “This is an annual income of tens of millions or even hundreds of millions, and it’s a share that has the right to participate in shareholders’ meetings.” “If you think it’s too much, I can give you less.” Is there anyone who thinks money is too much? I might wish my life was shorter, but I’d never think money was too much. I hugged the document to my chest, “If you regret it, you’re a dog.” The corners of his beautifully curved lips lifted slightly, “Look carefully at the attached conditions. Leaving the job is equivalent to automatically giving up the shares.” “Don’t worry, I’ll try hard to enjoy the company’s funeral benefit.” He couldn’t continue the conversation and waved his hand, “Go do your work. Remember to send my dry-cleaned clothes back when you get off work. Oh, and clean out the fridge, change the bed sheets, and also, find out about Miss Sinclair’s interests, pick a suitable gift, and help me arrange a meeting.”

When I got home, I hugged that contract and cried my eyes out, almost to death. My roommate came back, saw me lying lifelessly on the carpet, thought I was drunk, and almost kicked me to death. I told her the whole story with tears all over my face, and she screamed, “So you’re saying you’ve suddenly become a rich woman? This is the ultimate dream of many women, isn’t it?” I cried so hard I could barely breathe, “Marrying Liam and inheriting his estate in the future might get me tens of billions. Do you think I should cry myself to death?” Ruby is a very carefree person. Hearing this, she shook her head at me, “You… there are so many rich people, why are you so obsessed with Liam’s money bag? After all, you’re still underestimating your own beauty. Come on, sister will take you to witness a miracle.” In the noisy bar with flashing lights, I sat in the middle of the curved booth, wearing big headphones, focused on playing with my phone. Ruby brought wave after wave of men to chat me up, but I barely looked at them. “Miss.” “Miss Blackwood.” “Sister.” “Beautiful.” I waved all these people away directly. Ruby said, “Don’t be so arrogant just because you have some looks. They’re all quite good, all from wealthy families. You don’t even look at them, it’s really not giving them face, is it?” “When the right person comes, I’ll naturally give them face.” I kept my head down, my fingers actively swiping the screen, my eyes keenly searching for useful information. Even Ruby didn’t want to bother with me anymore. “Hey! Then I’ll just play by myself. With that ‘do not disturb’ look of yours, I suppose you don’t need company either.” With that, she happily ran off. Just as I was surfing the internet, suddenly a man’s gentle voice came from behind me, “Little sister, you come here just to play with your phone? You’ve chosen the wrong place, haven’t you?” I naturally put away my phone and looked up. By now, a dignified man in a suit was sitting across from me, catching my eye. “Who are you calling little sister? What year were you born?” I sized him up as he sized me up. I was thinking, this place really is a treasure trove, there’s actually this kind of eye-catching… refined man with gold-rimmed glasses? What he was thinking, I wasn’t quite sure. “1994,” he said. “I’m older than you, call me big sister.” I immediately put on a big sister air.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294894”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #励志Inspiring #重生Reborn #校园School #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #惊悚Thriller #魔幻Magic #玄幻Fantsy

On Valentine’s Day, my boyfriend Adam gave me a box of cheap artificial grass and tried to coax me into a hotel room. I turned around and got into a Mercedes G-Wagon instead. He called me a gold digger. The rich guy in the G-Wagon said, “Is your family’s massive ranch not big enough for you? Why are you settling for this loser?” 1 “Baby, happy Valentine’s Day!” Adam said, his voice muffled by the cigarette smoke seeping through the crack in the door of the cheap motel room near campus. Despite the unpleasant smell, I felt touched when I saw Adam proudly presenting a gift box to me. I knew he had been working part-time jobs for the past two months, and all his efforts were contained in this small box. I was about to open it eagerly when he gently stopped my hand. “Be patient, sweetheart. Let’s wait a bit before opening it.” “Okay,” I replied with a sweet smile. While Adam was in the shower, I nervously scrolled through my phone, secretly searching for tips about a girl’s first time. After reading through some heart-racing content, I became even more anxious and wanted to find something to distract myself. I glanced at the unopened gift box. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to take a quick peek while Adam was showering? I could always wrap it back up. Carefully, I untied the ribbon and opened the layers of wrapping. But when I saw what was inside, I froze. After two months of hard work, Adam had given me a box of cheap artificial grass? Disbelieving, I felt around in the grass and finally found a small hard object. I pulled it out to find a tacky plastic keychain. In that moment, all my joy and anticipation vanished. I felt like a fool staring at the $19.99 price tag on the back of the keychain. It seemed to mockingly tell me: “See, Lily? This is all you’re worth to Adam – twenty bucks.” “Ding!” The sound of Adam’s phone receiving a text message snapped me out of my thoughts. I absent-mindedly picked up his phone from the bed. Messages from Adam’s mother started popping up one after another: “Son, how are you doing at school? I transferred $500 to you. Let me know if you need more.” “Make sure to eat well and don’t spend all your money on dating!” “The Wang family’s son just got married yesterday. They didn’t even have a wedding banquet or buy a house before moving in together.” “You need to hurry up too! Get her pregnant!” “If necessary, poke some holes in the condoms. She’ll never notice.” Reading these messages that kept appearing, my heart sank like a stone. Even though it was summer, I couldn’t help but shiver. Disappointment, anger, panic, shame – these emotions churned inside me. The cigarette smoke from outside continued to drift in. I could no longer control my physical nausea and emotional disgust. I flung open the door and ran out. 2 I practically sprinted back to my dorm room. My roommates Emma and Chloe were startled by my disheveled appearance. “Lily, did you see a ghost? Weren’t you out celebrating Valentine’s Day with your boyfriend? Why are you back so soon?” Just as I was about to answer, my phone started buzzing in my pocket. It was Adam calling. I took a deep breath to calm myself before answering. His angry voice came through the speaker: “Lily, where are you? You promised to spend the night out with me. I already paid over $100 for the room and the front desk won’t give refunds!” I listened to Adam’s furious shouting. He even resorted to threats: “Either you come back right now, or we’re breaking up.” Break up? In the past, whenever Adam said those words, I would immediately become as docile as a rabbit and apologize. This time, I swallowed my hurt and anger. Without thinking, I transferred $1000 to him. “Adam, take this $1000 as compensation. Don’t contact me again. We’re over.” My two roommates were shocked to hear me say those words myself. Emma gave me a thumbs up, as if to say “you finally came to your senses”. “What? Lily, have you gone crazy? What nonsense are you talking about?” Adam panicked. He didn’t expect that this time I wouldn’t meekly surrender, and that I would turn his ultimatum back on him. I hung up without another word. Adam called back several times, but I didn’t answer. Finally, he lost patience and accepted the $1000 I sent him. “Fine, let’s break up then. Don’t come crying back to me later.” “With your face now, who else would marry you besides me?” “You’ll regret this sooner or later!” Looking at the three messages Adam sent, I glanced at the mirror by my bed. My reflection showed my fair and delicate face, but when I turned slightly…the other side revealed a large patch of bluish-black marks, like an ugly birthmark that instantly ruined my looks. My insecurity was palpable. However, this time, I steeled my heart. No matter what, I wouldn’t beg Adam to take me back. Even though he once loved me so much. 3 Adam and I met in our freshman year of college, when my face was still smooth and fair. With his backstory of losing his father at a young age, Adam quickly became known as the poor but noble prince of our department. He had a steady personality and excellent grades, and was gentle and polite to everyone. As someone born with a silver spoon in my mouth, I was quickly attracted to his unique charm. Although he was poor, he had pride. When I pursued him, I bought him many expensive gifts, but he refused to accept them. Even after we got together, he often warned me not to waste money. To please him, I stopped buying thousand-dollar clothes and accessories, and even changed my usual restaurants to the fast food places near campus. My roommates saw how I changed after dating Adam and were very worried about me. Especially Emma. She often said Adam was manipulating me, but I always scoffed at her concerns. I believed Adam truly loved me. He would get jealous if other guys looked at me for too long, bring me hot milk during my period, and remembered all my favorite foods and dietary restrictions. There was no boyfriend more caring than him. More importantly, even after my face was disfigured, he remained by my side just like before. I still remember those darkest days. In the second semester of sophomore year, some grayish-blue spots suddenly appeared on the left side of my face. At first, I didn’t pay much attention and just bought a lot of expensive spot-removing products. But not only did they have no effect, the blue spots grew more numerous and darker, eventually merging into a large patch. I started to become unwilling to go out or see people, and even developed some depressive tendencies. It was Adam who accompanied me to the hospital. The next day, he came back with the test results and told me that my blue spots were likely caused by a hidden genetic disease in my family, and there was no treatment. Just when I was about to give up all hope, Adam became the light that illuminated my darkness. “Lily, don’t be afraid. No matter what you look like, I’ll always be by your side. No one will love you more than I do.” He comforted me tirelessly until he helped me overcome this psychological shadow. Adam really did as he said. He didn’t abandon me because of my face, but became even more caring towards me. He even promised that as soon as he graduated and found a job, we would get married. He took me to various gatherings with his friends. In front of all his buddies’ beautiful girlfriends, I felt out of place. “Adam, why don’t I try cosmetic surgery?” I nervously suggested to him. But Adam immediately refused. He frowned and looked me in the eye. “Lily, do you think I got together with you just because you were pretty?” “What kind of person do you take me for? I already said I’ll love you no matter what you look like.” “Those fake faces from cosmetic surgery are disgusting. I hate those Instagram model faces the most!” I gave up on the idea of cosmetic surgery. Later, I comforted myself that I already had Adam. If even he didn’t mind, why should I care so much about this flaw on my face? 4 And now, Adam would no longer be part of my life. I looked in the mirror and re-examined myself, thinking about cosmetic surgery again. Even if there was only a one-in-ten-thousand chance of getting rid of this blue patch on my face, I wanted to try. Adam kept sending me messages, changing from threats to apologies, his tone softening from harsh to gentle. Before I could reply, a voice message suddenly played from Chloe’s phone. The voice was all too familiar – it was Adam. “Chloe, don’t you think Lily is being ungrateful? If only she was as understanding of my difficulties as you are.” I suddenly looked up and met Chloe’s panicked, innocent gaze. “Lily, don’t overthink it! Adam was just venting to me because he had a fight with you. I was trying to help persuade him for you.” Looking at the affectionate messages popping up on Adam’s phone, I felt an inexplicable wave of nausea. Ungrateful? Understanding of his difficulties? What difficulties should I be understanding about? His scheme to get me pregnant before marriage? Or the fact that he went to my roommate for comfort right after breaking up with me? “Chloe, you don’t need to pretend. I’ve known about your little games behind my back for a long time. I just couldn’t be bothered to confront you. That doesn’t mean I’m stupid.” I had known Chloe disliked me since the first day of school. She was a small-town girl, a nobody when she first arrived. Many classmates even mocked her for being poor. Because we were roommates, I got along well with her and often lent her clothes and bags. She was quite pretty, and once she wore decent clothes and shoes and lost her country bumpkin air, she could actually be considered a beauty. More and more people said she looked a bit like me, but more often, they mocked her for being my personal maid and follower. Chloe changed. She started secretly diluting my cosmetics, staining my new clothes, and even stealing my money. I turned a blind eye to those things, not bothering to confront her. And now she wanted to steal Adam from me. Who knows how long the two of them had been hooking up behind my back. 5 “Lily, how can you say that about me? I only had good intentions!” Chloe panicked, putting on a pitiful act with teary eyes. Even Emma thought I was being too harsh. Emma tried to mediate: “Lily, just forget about that jerk Adam. Don’t let him affect our dorm relationships.” I pulled out several photos from my phone and placed them on the table, swiping through them one by one in front of them. The first showed Chloe “adding ingredients” to my makeup oil. The second showed Chloe reaching into my drawer and taking out my wallet. The third was a love letter Chloe had written to Adam. With each photo I swiped through, Emma and Chloe’s expressions changed. Chloe turned and glared at me viciously. “You knew all along! You were just laughing at me, weren’t you?!” I remained silent. Emma was completely stunned by Chloe’s sudden change in demeanor. Chloe spread her phone out in front of me with a twisted expression, speaking through gritted teeth: “Lily, so what if you’re rich? Now you’ve lost that perfect face and Adam, your loyal dog. You’re nothing now. You can’t step on me anymore to show off how noble you are!” I looked at the WeChat messages on Chloe’s screen, which apparently started last August. So she had her sights set on Adam long ago. “Adam, did you buy that 700 n e w d r e s s f o r L i l y ?

′ s s o p r e t t y . I w i s h I w a s t h a t l u c k y . B u t I ′ m h a p p y w i t h m y 700newdressforLily?It ′ ssopretty.IwishIwasthatlucky.ButI ′ mhappywithmy10 T-shirt!” Adam replied: “Lily is just vain. I think it’s better to be frugal.” “Adam, which of these two photos do you think looks better?” The attached images were two selfies with her cleavage half-exposed. Adam replied: “Both look good. It would be even better if they were a bit more revealing (winking face)” “Adam, I heard you had another fight with Lily. She’s from a rich family so it’s normal for her to be spoiled. Unlike us poor kids. You should be more understanding of her.” Adam replied: “If only Lily was half as sensible as you.” I knew the wealth gap between Adam and me had always been a thorn in his heart. I tried my best to cater to him, carefully protecting his fragile self-esteem. In the end, I was still the bad guy who wasn’t sensible enough. Meanwhile Chloe, who was even more vain and materialistic than me, became his kindred spirit and confidante just because her background was similarly poor. “Lily, you and Adam aren’t from the same world. Only I truly understand him.” Yes, you two are a perfect match, I thought bitterly. You’re both so self-pitying and insecure about your backgrounds. I looked at Chloe’s smug face and laughed sarcastically. “Since you like my leftovers so much, you can have him. After all, unlike me, apart from Adam – this ‘potential stock’ that may or may not rise -” “You have nothing.” The color drained from Chloe’s face at my words. She grabbed her phone and stormed out. I didn’t need to guess where she was going – she was off to seek comfort from Adam. Looks like Adam’s $100 room fee wouldn’t go to waste after all. I wished them happiness. 6 The next day, I went to a famous cosmetic surgery clinic in the city based on an online search and made an appointment with the dermatology department. A nurse led me in. The young male doctor who examined me had apparently just returned from getting his master’s degree abroad. “Lily?” he called my name hesitantly, looking up at me with a shocked expression. “When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jack was my childhood friend. His parents and mine were not only business partners but also close friends for many years, so I spent almost every day with Jack before we became adults. He was the stereotypical rich playboy, always surrounded by girls, while I was the well-behaved good girl who never caused trouble. Later he went abroad for school, while I chose to attend a prestigious local university. Due to the time difference, we gradually lost touch. Hearing my words, Jack suddenly looked a bit hurt. “Didn’t you delete me on SnapChat?” Surprised, I took out my phone in front of him and indeed couldn’t find him in my contacts. It must have been Adam’s doing again. Every so often, some male contacts would mysteriously disappear from my SnapChat. I used to think it was cute that he got jealous, but now I just found it pathetic. I didn’t know how to explain to Jack, so I just added him back. He looked at the blue patch covering half my face with concern and asked, “What happened?” “I went to the hospital to check. They said it might be a hidden genetic disease in the family with no treatment. I wanted to see if cosmetic surgery could remove these blue spots.” He looked shocked when he heard my explanation. “That’s impossible!” “Lily, which quack doctor did you see? This kind of blue patch is caused by pigment deposition. If it were genetic, you would have had symptoms since childhood!” “If it appeared later in life, there are only two possibilities – either you applied something to your face, or it was caused by hormonal drugs.” Jack’s words hit me like a bolt of lightning. I had never considered this possibility. The doctor who examined me wasn’t some quack – I had gone to the most famous hospital in the city. It was impossible for the hospital to misdiagnose. There was only one possibility left. Adam had lied to me and forged my test results! All this time, I had become fragile and insecure because of my imperfect face. Adam saw it all, yet he still deceived me. Why on earth would he do that?! Jack noticed my expression change and thought I was worried about the spots on my face. “Lily, don’t worry. I learned about relevant treatments abroad. Apart from the high cost, this type of blue patch is not difficult to treat at all.” His words comforted me. With my family background, any problem that could be solved with money was no longer a problem for me. While I was delighted that my face could be restored, I was also furious and confused about Adam’s long-standing deception. I had to get to the bottom of this! 7 Jack specially ordered a spot removal device from the UK for me, specifically to treat my condition. I didn’t understand how he, as a newly hired doctor, had so much influence. He gave me a playful look with his insufferable expression. “You dare disobey the young master’s orders?” Oh, so this cosmetic surgery clinic was also one of the Song family’s businesses. Their reach was truly extensive. I underwent treatment with Jack for nearly half a month. During this time, I took leave from school. Every day after treatment, Jack would drive me home and stay for dinner. He had always loved my mom’s cooking since we were kids. Even when his own mother called to ask him to come home for dinner, it was useless. Over time, both our families got used to it. Whenever they saw Jack, my family would just set an extra place at the table. “Look in the mirror. Don’t eat anything weird again, especially those diet pills online. They’re unreliable. That’s how you messed up your face in the first place.” I ignored Jack’s nagging and happily examined myself in the mirror. My fair, flawless face was finally back! “Let’s go, Miss Lily. I’ll drive you back to school.” “Don’t you have to work?” “Have you ever seen a young master who needs to clock in on time?” Jack opened the door of his Mercedes G-Wagon for me, putting on his flashy gold-rimmed sunglasses. He drove me ostentatiously through the university gates. Along the way, he chattered on about many interesting stories from his time in the UK, but I wasn’t really listening. I turned my head to look at the familiar campus, feeling like my lost confidence was slowly being restored. As we passed by the teaching building, I saw Adam and Chloe. Jack asked, “Isn’t that your boyfriend? I saw photos of you two on your Ins. Why is he holding hands with another girl?” I coldly replied: “We broke up long ago.” Jack sensed my displeasure, but his expression remained cheerful. He teasingly said: “Someone really had such bad taste? Does that mean I have a chance now? Goddess, may I have the honor of being your devoted admirer? I’ll even settle for being your backup.” I smacked the back of his head in annoyance. He had always been so frivolous since we were young. As we drove past Adam, Jack deliberately slowed down. Adam saw me in the passenger seat and his face instantly turned pale. Disregarding the danger, he rushed over and blocked the car. I rolled down the window and saw his disgusting face. “Lily?! Why are you in this playboy’s car? He clearly has bad intentions!” “This type of guy has slept with countless women. He probably has some STD. How can you be so careless?” “Your…your face?” Adam was about to say more but choked on his words when he saw my perfectly restored face. Chloe came over to pull him away and was also startled by my flawless complexion. Especially when she saw Jack sitting beside me, her eyes were practically shooting fire with jealousy. 8 “Chloe, control your gaze. The guy next to me is way out of your league,” I said deliberately to irritate her. “Besides, his family background doesn’t match yours. You’re better suited for a poor nobody like Adam.”

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After my brutal death, Dad kept delivering more orders, day and night. He was always on time, even offering to take out customers’ trash on his way down. It didn’t take long before the property manager began to suspect something dark, that maybe those missing tenants were actually hidden in the garbage bags Dad took downstairs. Dad only chuckled calmly at this. “I’ve been running deliveries around here for ten years, and you’re still questioning me?” In front of the police, Sam Hendricks, the property manager, dragged over a trash bag leaking blood. A few bystanders, straining to watch, nearly gagged. The officers quickly cleared the crowd and surrounded Dad. “Officer, it’s him,” Sam said, his hand trembling as he pointed at Dad, fear and suspicion heavy in his eyes. “The last few tenants who ordered from him—well, they’re all gone now.” Dad stood still, holding several trash bags in each hand. Despite the sudden chaos, his expression stayed calm. He set down the bags, raised his hands, and let the police approach. “Sir, we have reason to believe you’re involved in recent disappearances. Please cooperate with the investigation,” one officer ordered, his voice cold. Dad shrugged and nodded, unfazed. “Go ahead. I’ve been delivering here for nearly ten years now, every day. Not like I’m going anywhere.” When they tore open the bloodied trash bag from Sam, all they found were dead rats. “It’s not illegal to kill rats, is it, Officer?” Dad shrugged, leaning back. But the officers ignored him, determined to keep searching. All they found, though, was a pile of trash and some unclaimed food deliveries—until one of them reached the bottom of the delivery cooler, where a metal box lay hidden. The K9 unit started barking furiously. When the officer pried the lid open, a sharp smell of blood spilled out, making the bystanders gag. Inside was a box filled with raw, bloodied scraps. Dad stayed calm, even apologizing to the crowd. “Sorry, hadn’t processed those kidneys yet. Bit gamey; should’ve soaked ‘em in some vinegar…” The officers pressed him down and barked, “Enough games, Frank Collins. Where are those missing people?” “And your daughter, Lily Collins, has been gone for nearly two weeks. You filed a report, then pulled it back. What did you do to her?” “File a report?” They shoved him to the ground, but he only laughed, a cold, mocking sound. “If I’d waited for you to find her, she’d have rotted by now.” Following him silently, I felt my soul ache with every word. I’m already dead, so why does it still hurt? Dad always called me stupid. All my life, I was the one he’d berate. Now, the police were shoving Dad out the door, bringing him to his apartment. The freezer in the center of the room immediately caught everyone’s attention. When they carefully opened it, the stench made even the officers grimace in disgust. Inside, lying in a twisted heap, was me. The missing Lily Collins, my body horrifically mangled.

I was attacked on a night like any other. With my backpack slung over my shoulder, I walked quickly, trying to figure out what to make for dinner. Then, shadows sprang from the darkness, too fast and rough for me to even scream. Fear and pain swallowed me as I fought desperately, but they were too strong. They dragged me to a dark basement, hands tearing at my clothes. I screamed, but my mouth was gagged tight. My flailing limbs only seemed to spur them on, and I felt my body being torn apart. My soul was ripped away in that moment, forced to watch the horror being done to me. At one point, a younger man with curly hair gasped, “Hey! She’s not moving!” “Passed out from all the fun?” “Hey, get up! Quit faking!” The muscular man in charge hoisted my lifeless body, slapping me over and over. Each blow reverberated through my soul like an echo of pain. Finally, after dozens of slaps and seeing my head slump with no response, they began to panic. They checked my pulse, and it was gone. The younger guy clutched his head in horror. “We’re finished. They only paid us to have some fun, not kill her! I’m not going back to prison!” “Stop whining,” the leader spat, kicking him. “They asked for a job; we got paid extra. She won’t be back for her money anyway.” They disappeared into the darkness. And I floated aimlessly, finding my way back to our front door. I arrived just in time to see Dad return from his deliveries, fumbling for his keys. A neighbor called out, “Hey, Frank! Your Lily probably made dinner for you, right? You’ve got a good girl there.” “Good for nothing,” Dad muttered without a second glance. “So stupid, I’m just glad she doesn’t cause any trouble.” “Oh, c’mon, Frank. Give the girl some credit. Kids have their pride, you know?” “I raised her on my own. I get to say a word or two.” Dad scoffed as he pushed the door open. The house was dark, and he frowned, calling out, “Lily? Didn’t make anything tonight, huh?” Nothing answered except the cold draft from the hall. After Mom’s accident, Dad started his job with Quick Bites, out all day, every day. He said I held him back, that he could never find a new wife because of me. I was just his stupid deadweight, too dumb to do well in school, or even cook right. As the night wore on, his frustration grew. “That girl. Out wandering now, huh? Just wait till she gets back.” He kept calling my phone, dialing until it went straight to voicemail. He even took his scooter out, riding around the streets, searching up and down the path I took home from school. But I was nowhere to be found.

Dad wasn’t denying the murders anymore, but he wasn’t being particularly helpful either. “How many people? I don’t keep track. Leftovers are in the box. You can sort ‘em yourselves.” The box held scraps in different stages of decay. Some parts were blackened and reeking, nearly liquid from sitting so long. It was enough to keep the coroner’s office busy for weeks. While Dad was being shown around, identifying possible crime scenes at Maplewood Terrace, a man stumbled over, clearly drunk. “Frank Collins! Where’s my wife? You took my wife, didn’t you? Give her back!” It was Doug Montgomery, Carla’s drunk husband. The neighbors started whispering, “Yeah, haven’t seen Carla Montgomery in a while. I’d heard she’d had a fling with the delivery guy, her husband beat her up something fierce after that… But now…” Doug spat through slurred words. “Hell, I’m not the one having flings with some delivery guy! Now get outta here!” He took a swing at Dad, who only staggered and laughed, “Can’t handle your own wife? And you’re blaming me?” When I first went missing, Dad came to this neighborhood, knowing it was on my way home. He knocked on Carla’s door first, the only person he knew nearby. But Doug had thrown him out. “What’s your daughter to us? Just looking for an excuse to hit on my wife again?” Now, as the police separated the enraged Doug from Dad, Dad chuckled bitterly. “I’ve taken out so much trash, I can’t remember where Carla Montgomery ended up.” Faces turned pale around us—police officers calculating the endless garbage bags they might need to search, and the crowd imagining what might be in each one. Watching Doug rage helplessly made me feel something like joy for the first time since my death. I remember how Dad’s fling with Carla was exposed when Doug came to our house, reeking of alcohol, and told Mom, “Your husband’s been with my wife. You’ll pay up for it. Or maybe I’ll just take your daughter as payment.”

Dad and Carla had something short-lived once, nearly going through with a plan to leave together. I remember when Mom and Dad were always fighting, and he’d come home later and later. Carla was one of his regulars at Quick Bites, always seeming to know just how to get his attention. Once, I overheard them planning a future, each word a sharp sting in my heart. “Let’s just get a divorce. I won’t let him hurt you again,” Dad had said, his voice low and determined. Carla’s voice dripped with charm and anticipation, “Yes, we’ll finally be free.” I hid behind the door, tears blurring my vision. I hated Dad, hated that he wanted to leave me and Mom to chase after his happiness. I hated Carla, hated her for trying to destroy my family. And, somewhere in me, I hated Mom, too, for being too weak to keep Dad’s attention. But then, in the rain one night, Mom’s life came to an abrupt end. Dad and Carla’s plans crumbled, and he chose to stay, raising me on his own. He cut ties with Carla, filling his life only with endless deliveries and a child he resented. Some nights, he’d sit alone with a drink, calling me his “deadweight,” cursing that I couldn’t grow up faster. And I, after losing Mom, closed myself off, rebelling against him at every turn. I ignored his concern, meeting it with coldness and defiance, as if punishing him would heal the pain. Then came the night that sealed my fate. I don’t know how Dad found his way into that dark basement. He stood there, staring at my battered body, unmoving. After a long time, he draped a jacket over me, covering my broken form. He didn’t wail or cry; every movement was calm, mechanical. I thought, maybe he felt freed, relieved of the burden I’d always been. Maybe he’d go back to Carla, start a new life, chase that vision he’d once had. Maybe… he’d be happier without me. Dad never went back to the police. Maybe he hated them for refusing to file a report at first, telling him he’d have to wait 48 hours. Instead, he brought me home, tucking me into the big freezer in the middle of the room. He gently wiped my face with a towel, murmuring, “Wait for me, Lily. Dad’ll be right here.” And he threw himself into his work, delivering day and night. Until, finally, he found every last person who’d hurt me. Dad brought cigarettes for everyone at Quick Bites, trading every delivery in Maplewood Terrace for himself. He became silent, delivering more orders than ever, hunting for any hint of who was behind my death. One evening, Dad made his usual rounds, delivering food and politely asking customers if they had trash he could take downstairs.

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My boss handed me $20,000 in cash to pay the workers. I only stepped out to buy some envelopes, and by the time I got back, my dad had lent the money to our neighbor for a house. When I confronted him, he told me I didn’t understand “neighborly obligations.” Even Mom and my brother blamed me for not hiding the money better, knowing full well that Dad had a habit of loaning cash out. Eventually, my boss fired me but didn’t call the police. He only asked me to pay the money back. To help me do that, my dad arranged a high-paying job for me. But when I got there, it turned out I’d been hired as a caretaker for an old man who assaulted me on the first day. I wanted to call the police, but my dad insisted I should “be compassionate” toward the elderly. It didn’t end there; the old man’s daughter thought I was trying to seduce her father and had people beat me to death. Then I opened my eyes—back to the day my dad had loaned our neighbor that money. “Dani, no need to come back to the office after picking up the cash. Head straight to the Highland Ridge site and distribute the wages this afternoon.” Boss Rick Harlow handed me the bank card, and at that moment, I truly felt like I’d been given a second chance. In my last life, after withdrawing the $20,000, I’d rushed home in fear of losing it. I locked the cash in my bedroom, intending to buy some envelopes to distribute it properly. But after being gone just an hour, I came home to find that my dad had lent it all to Dennis Coleman, the neighbor, to help buy a house. I was about to go ask Dennis for the money back. But my dad stopped me. “What are you doing? We’ve already lent it out. How could you ask for it back? What kind of neighbor would do that?” I was livid. “Dad, this money is from my company. You can’t just take company funds. If the boss calls the cops, I could go to jail!” Dad scoffed, “Your boss has plenty of money; what’s $20,000 to him?” Seeing he wasn’t going to listen, I stormed out, heading straight for Dennis’s door and banging on it. Before I could even ask for the money, Dad dragged me back home. Once inside, he slapped me hard across the face. “Dani Greene, I can’t believe my daughter would be so clueless about social decency. Tell your boss that I borrowed it, alright?” Furious, I snapped, “Borrowed it? How do you plan to pay it back? You have no job and no savings. Why would he lend it to you?” The second those words left my mouth, Dad lost it completely. He kicked me to the ground, fists raining down on me. “Who do you think you are, talking to your father like that?” At that moment, Mom and Lucas walked in. Seeing me getting beaten, their faces were cold, and when they found out why, Mom sneered, “You had it coming. You know your dad likes to lend money out, and you still left the cash lying around.” This ordeal ended with me confessing everything to Rick. He didn’t call the cops, just asked for the money back and wrote off the rest, but he couldn’t let me stay. After signing a note saying I’d repay him, he fired me. After that, I faced even worse because of Dad. Remembering all this felt like those punches were landing on me all over again. I asked Rick if I could pay out the wages in the morning instead of the afternoon, explaining I was nervous about carrying so much cash. He agreed. Once I had the money in hand, I rushed to Highland Ridge, only relaxing after I saw the workers pocketing their pay. When I returned home, Dad was fiddling with the lock to my bedroom. “Dad, what are you doing in my room?” Hearing my voice, he jumped, then smiled at me. “Just in time. Got any cash I can borrow?” “What for?” I asked. “Dennis is looking to buy a house, and I want to pitch in a little to help. It’s good for neighborly relations.” Dad sounded so convinced, like this was the most natural thing in the world. The whole neighborhood knew Dad was a people-pleaser. Whether they needed money or muscle, all they had to do was ask, and he’d do whatever he could to help. We never had savings because Dad would lend out any money as soon as we’d saved it up. “No, I don’t have anything. Try Lucas—he was just talking to Mom about buying a car, so he should have a little,” I told him, brushing him off. When I mentioned Lucas might have money, Dad’s eyes lit up. Of course, he didn’t actually go ask Lucas or Mom. Instead, he turned and went to his room to dig out his bank card. Dad’s always been quick to lend out cash, so back in high school, I suggested Mom open a secret savings account he didn’t know about. Otherwise, we’d never save a penny. Mom brushed me off, saying I was just a kid and didn’t understand how things worked, but she still opened that account. She’d managed to save around $40,000, meant to help Lucas with his wedding and to buy a car. In my last life, even knowing I could go to jail, they never used that money to help me out. I ended up working as a caretaker to pay off my debts, while

Lucas went ahead and bought himself a new car. After turning the whole house upside down, Dad finally found the passbook hidden in a rice container. Seeing the balance, he exploded. “That sneaky Laura, hiding all this money from me!” He stormed out with both his ID and Mom’s. I tried to stop him, “Dad, aren’t you going to ask what the money’s for?” “What for? Every cent in this house comes from me.” He left without another word, and when he returned, he had $40,000 in cash and called over Dennis from next door. Dennis seemed surprised, “This much? I only needed $20,000.” “Take it all,” Dad replied, puffing himself up like some kind of billionaire. “Use the rest for renovations.” Dennis offered to write him an IOU, but Dad waved him off. “If you give me an IOU, it’ll be like you don’t trust me.” Dennis left, delighted, and Dad stood there looking like he’d just done something amazing. I stepped in, trying one last time. “Dad, if you’re going to lend that much, you should get a note. He might not pay it back.” He shot me a glare. “If you ask for a note, you ruin the goodwill. This is how you build relationships, Dani. You’ve got a lot to learn.” Dad loved to throw around phrases like “building relationships.” Growing up poor, he’d always felt that no one in his family cared enough to help out, and that had left a mark on him. Now, if someone needed anything, he’d be there with money if he had it, or labor if he didn’t. And if he couldn’t do it alone, we all had to pitch in. And sure, he’d gained a few friendly neighbors this way—but they all knew they could take advantage without ever giving back. With this life, since I’d managed to pay the workers in time, I hadn’t been fired. But it wasn’t long before Dad landed me in more trouble. After work one day, I came home to find a stranger in our living room. Dad introduced him as Charlie Davis, a friend who owned a small factory. The IRS was coming to audit him, but his wife, who’d been the accountant, had made a mess of the books. He needed a professional to help him sort it out. One look at the paperwork, and I told him flat-out, “I can’t do this.” Dad’s face darkened, and with a forced calm, he said, “Look again. A small factory’s accounts have to be simpler than your company’s. Just help him out.” I handed the books back, “Mr. Davis, these accounts are all over the place. You should talk to the IRS and straighten things out.” The books were a disaster. From one glance, it was clear they’d been doctored. He didn’t want my help organizing; he wanted someone to smooth over the fraud.

Charlie turned pale and left, with Dad trailing after him. I went to my room to get ready for a shower. Just as I was halfway undressed, the door flew open, and Dad barged in. I barely had time to scream before he slapped me hard across the face. “Who the hell do you think you are?” “What’s the big deal about being an accountant? Just help him out like I said, and quit talking back,” Dad snarled, jabbing a finger at my face. “Do you know how hard it is to keep these relationships going? And just like that, you ruined it. I already told him you’d do it, so you better get those books sorted.” I lifted my chin, defiant. “I won’t. If someone else wants to take the risk, let them. He’s asking me to cook the books, and if it gets exposed, I’ll be the one paying for it.” “Oh, please. It’s not like they’ll catch you that easily. I think you’re just lazy.” Dad rolled up his sleeves and raised his hand to hit me again. Just then, the front door opened, and Mom and Lucas walked in. I ran to hide behind Mom, but to my shock, she stepped aside and shoved me back toward Dad. “If you’ve made him angry, you might as well take the hit and get it over with. Don’t drag me into it,” she said coldly. Since I was a kid, whenever Dad got violent, Mom and Lucas would stay far out of the way, afraid they’d get dragged into it. Their indifference hit me hard. After realizing Dad was furious because I refused to make fake entries, Lucas frowned at me, “Dani, you’re really being immature. It’s just a little doctoring of numbers, not your life on the line. If you’ve embarrassed Dad in front of his friend, you deserve what’s coming.” Mom chimed in, “Exactly. And don’t say you can’t do it. You’re an accountant—I know what you’re capable of.” Her words reminded me of something important. Dad had already retired, but Mom hadn’t, and she wanted to stay a few extra years for the benefits. Mom worked as an accountant at a government agency with great pay and benefits, and when Lucas graduated, she pulled every string she could to get him in, too. But when I graduated, she’d gone out of her way to block me from joining her office, even though I’d already been accepted. She didn’t want me around, afraid I’d somehow disrupt her career plan to delay retirement. The memory made my fists clench. I looked at Dad and forced myself to back down. “Dad, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have refused in front of your friend. I could probably do it, but I don’t have as much experience, and I’d hate to mess it up for him. But Mom—she has tons of experience. She’d be perfect for the job.” Dad turned to Mom, who shot me a death glare. “Walter, my work’s been hectic lately. This kind of thing…” she started to say. Dad cut her off. “Dani’s right. She’s inexperienced, so you’ll do it instead.” Mom opened her mouth to protest, but one look from Dad, and she swallowed her words. He not only forced her to take on the task but gave her a deadline of one night to finish it. That night, he got irritated by the light in the living room, so he made her work out there in the dark. I slept soundly, waking up refreshed the next morning while Mom was left bleary-eyed, sighing and muttering under her breath as I headed out the door. Just one glance at those books had told me this job was more than just messy; if she cooked the books, she’d be in deep trouble if they ever got caught. But at least that wasn’t my problem anymore. On the weekend, I went out looking for apartments, thinking it was time to get away from this house. After a long day, I came home and collapsed on my bed, weighing the options for which apartment would be best. As I glanced at my bookshelf, I noticed my complete collection of classic American novels was missing. It was a rare, collector’s edition, a gift left to me by my best friend who had passed away. I’d even sealed the books to preserve them. My mind went blank, and I ran into the living room. “Dad, where’s my collector’s edition?” He looked startled for a second, then recovered with a shrug. “I gave it to someone.” I narrowed my eyes. “Gave it to who?” “Who cares?” he snapped. Anger surged through me. “Who did you give it to?” “I gave it to Charlie Davis,” he said coolly. “You should be glad he liked it. Otherwise, you’d have really made an enemy of him.” “Well, let him be mad then! He’s not my father—why should I care? That set was my friend’s last gift to me, and you gave it away without a thought. Did you ever even consider how I’d feel?” With that, tears started falling. Years of pent-up frustration flooded out of me. Dad hesitated for a moment, then stood and raised his hand to hit me again. “Are you serious? Your dad’s reputation isn’t worth more than some old books? You can just buy them again. They’re not irreplaceable. You’ve been acting out way too much lately. I’m going to teach you a lesson today.” But I was done. I ran into the kitchen, grabbed a knife, and started slashing at the air in front of me. “Alright, fine! If you’re so determined to punish me, one of us isn’t walking out of here today!” Lucas grabbed me from behind, using all his strength to pry the knife from my hands. “Dani, have you lost your mind? How dare you wave a knife at Dad? You know this is just how he is! You should have hidden your things better if you didn’t want this to happen.” I looked at him, stunned. This was the same brother who’d always stood by while I was being hit, who only stepped in now to defend Dad because I’d picked up a knife. This family was rotten to the core. Lucas saw my look and frowned. “What are you looking at me like that for? This is on you. They’re just books. Stop making a big deal out of it. Dad does things like this for the good of the family, for our benefit.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You say that only because it wasn’t your stuff he gave away.” Lucas puffed up. “Even if it were mine, I wouldn’t complain.” Just then, a scream came from Mom’s bedroom. She ran out, holding her savings book in her hand, looking frantic. “My money! It’s gone!” Lucas turned to her, “What money?” Mom’s face twisted with despair. “Your car money—and your wedding fund.”

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For the past two nights, I’ve dreamed of a strange old man crawling onto my bed. Turns out, it wasn’t a dream. It was real. Even more shocking, it was all orchestrated by my husband of three years—the same man I thought adored me. All so he could satisfy his sick urges, even if it meant sending me into another man’s bed. 0In the dead of night, I felt a stranger climb into my bed. He stared hard at my face, his head getting closer and closer. I tried to turn my eyes away, but my eyelids felt as heavy as lead. He pinned my hands above my head, then buried his face against my neck, biting down. I struggled with all my strength, screaming, but found myself utterly helpless. Paralyzed, I was at his mercy, as he slipped my lace nightgown off my shoulders. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead!” “It’s time for breakfast.” Someone was gently pinching my nose. I snapped my eyes open, gasping for air. Law Callahan’s face hovered over me, full of warmth. I took in his familiar features, feeling dazed. Was it all just a dream? I sat up, my head spinning and body sore, completely exhausted like I hadn’t slept at all. “What’s wrong?” Law’s brows knit in concern, and he started massaging my temples. Looking into his worried eyes, I thought back to last night. A shiver ran down my spine. I shook my head to clear the disturbing thoughts. “Maybe I just didn’t sleep well, that’s all.” I rubbed his cheeks, playfully squishing his eyes into slits. “C’mon, aren’t we supposed to go to your mom’s for lunch?” We’d been married for three years, and Law had always treated me like we were newlyweds. With his good looks and those captivating eyes, I was drawn in, unable to resist. After breakfast, we set out, only arriving around one due to weekend traffic. “Son, what took you so long? You must be starving. I bet someone took forever getting ready,” Maxine Callahan, my mother-in-law, shot me a sharp look. She never approved of me since I was alone, without family to back me up. “Our Law was the only one from our whole community to make it to college, and a top university at that! So many folks would’ve loved to see him married to their daughter, but he picked you.” The first time I met her, she’d looked me over with a scrutinizing eye. From that moment, I knew I’d always feel unsteady without parents to support me—even with a college degree. “Mom, it’s my fault. I just wanted to sleep in a little,” Law said with a wink, easing the tension. I felt the cloud lift as I managed a small smile. Thank goodness I have Law; he’s always on my side. I see classmates on social media complaining about marriage problems, and it makes me value this quiet happiness even more. “Mom, I’m so hungry—let’s eat already.” Law, seeing her ready to say more, quickly guided her to the table. “Come on, son, have some soup. That hen stopped laying eggs, so I went ahead and cooked it up. If it can’t give eggs, what good is it?” Maxine ladled some soup for Law, casting a pointed glance at my stomach. Even Walter, my father-in-law, put his fork down in disappointment. “Mom, Ivy’s health isn’t the best. Once she’s better, we’ll have kids.” I stared at Law, unable to believe he’d take the blame for me. This wasn’t the first time Maxine had brought it up, but Law always turned the focus back on me. Last time, he’d said I wanted a few more years to enjoy life, and afterward, Maxine whispered that I was selfish. But the truth was, Law hadn’t touched me in almost three years. I couldn’t exactly have a baby on my own! 0

It was the first real argument of our marriage. He’d knelt on the ground, begging me not to tell his family about his problem. He didn’t want to lose face. I suggested seeing a doctor, but he said that if his colleagues or students found out, it would be worse than death for him. “Ivy, other than this, I’ll do anything you want. I promise I’ll treat you better than anyone else could.” He kept his promise in every way. After graduation, I stayed home, and each month, he handed over his paycheck, never letting me lift a finger around the house. He even took me on regular trips. “Ivy, we can’t let the family name end here; you know he’s our only son,” Walter finally spoke up, urging us to have a child. Under the table, Law grasped my hand, silently pleading. Swallowing my frustration, I forced a smile. “Mom, Dad, Law and I are actually planning to have a baby next year. We want a child born in the Year of the Dragon.” Seeing their blank looks, I continued my ruse. “Dragon children are supposed to be ambitious and destined for great things. They bring luck and success to the family. Just look at Uncle Earl’s son, Forrest! He’s moved to Washington, D.C., and it’s all because he’s a Dragon.” Knowing how superstitious they were, I hoped it would appease them. They often consulted “experts” for auspicious dates, especially when we got our marriage license. Sure enough, they were satisfied, nodding in approval. They even complimented me for thinking it through so well. As we left, Law hurried ahead to put his arm around my waist, but I sidestepped without making it too obvious. “What’s wrong? Are you still upset?” he asked. “Law, what’s our plan for having kids? Are you just going to keep hiding it? I’m not getting any younger—I want a baby.” Tears welled up, and I bit my lip to hold back a sob. Seeing my tears, his eyes flashed briefly with something I couldn’t place before he pulled me close, full of sympathy. “Ivy, I promise, we’ll have a child next year. We’ll…try IVF if we have to.” His tone was gentle, his eyes full of love, but the words felt ice-cold. I was devastated. I’d thought he’d finally swallow his pride and see a doctor. But instead, he’d rather put me through the grueling process of IVF than touch me. In three years, he’d only been intimate with me during the first few months of marriage, then he’d avoided it altogether. I’d tried everything, from seductive clothes to working out and dressing up, but he was unmoved. I’d grown up with my grandparents, left to fend for myself after they died, so Law had filled a void in my heart. As long as he treated me well, I’d decided I could overlook these things. 0

By the time we got back, it was dark. As I stepped off the elevator, I noticed a pile of boxes in the hallway. “Looks like we’ve got new neighbors?” Law said, following behind me. Just then, the door across from ours opened. A tall, thin man stepped out, his pale face partly hidden behind a fringe of hair. He didn’t look easy to get along with. “Hey there, I’m Jett Ryder, your new neighbor. Movers will grab these later.” He flashed a wide smile, dimples digging into his cheeks. He seemed friendlier than I’d first thought, and I mentally chided myself for judging him too soon. “Hello, we’re right across the hall. Let us know if you need anything,” I replied politely. With one hand, Law threw an arm around my shoulder and used the other to unlock our door. “Pretty-boy,” he muttered under his breath after we got inside. I shot him a glare. That night, he brought me a cup of warm milk. “There, my love. Don’t be mad anymore; drink this.” I took a sip, and he leaned in to lick the milk from my lips, but I turned away, wiping it with a napkin. “Still mad, huh?” he grumbled. “Let’s just go to bed; I have an interview tomorrow.” I pretended not to hear him, and he reluctantly turned off the lights, snuggling up beside me. But that night, I had the same nightmare. This time, I managed to open my eyes halfway, just enough to catch a glimpse of his face—a balding head, with greedy, murky eyes that leered at me, making me want to scream awake. “Stay still, sweetheart.” A stench like rotten eggs washed over me, and then everything went black. The next morning, Law had already left for work, and I was bewildered. How could I keep having such nightmares? Was it the lack of intimacy? But why would I dream about an old man? Shaking off the thought, I focused on my interview. “Hey, Sloane, what kind of questions does your HR usually ask? I’m feeling so nervous.” “Just be confident, Ivy. Talk about your design ideas; they love that stuff.” “Alright, thanks. Elevator’s here, talk to you later.” I’d majored in design in college, but right after graduation, I married Law. His parents wanted us to have kids before I went to work, but since I wasn’t getting pregnant, I’d spent three years as a housewife, letting Law take care of me. Meanwhile, my classmates were all making thousands, while I felt like I was just living off my husband. Recently, though, I’d decided to find my own path and make something of myself. I’d reached out to my best friend, Sloane Wilder, who had a top job at her company, Wilder & Kane Design Co. She’d helped get me this interview. I pressed the elevator button. “Hold on!” A pale hand shot between the doors. I looked up and felt my blood run cold. She waved her hand in front of my face. “Hey, you okay?” I pushed her hand away, staring past her down the hall. But there was nothing—no sign of him. Was I losing my mind? I could have sworn I’d just seen the man from my nightmare. Even though he wore glasses, I remembered those disgusting, squinty eyes. A surge of nausea hit me, and I turned away. What was going on? My brain was reeling. Could it just be a strange coincidence? Or was I really dealing with something paranormal? I staggered down the street, lost in thought as my phone buzzed incessantly, snapping me back. “Hello?” “Ivy, where are you? HR said you didn’t show up for your interview. What happened?” “I…something came up. By the way, does your company have a bald guy in his fifties, with glasses?” “Oh, that could be any number of people here. You know designers and bald heads! Anyway, gotta go—got called into a meeting.” I hung up, utterly bewildered. My mind was racing as I searched online, reading about dreams of strange men. Most sources said it meant “bad luck in love,” but none explained why the man in my dream looked exactly like someone I’d just seen in real life. Could he be someone from a past life? The thought chilled me as I pictured his gleaming, bald head. Maybe I should talk to a psychologist about this. Just then, I heard a voice. “Hey, what a coincidence!” Jett Ryder was there, holding a garbage bag and flashing me a friendly smile. “Hi, settling in okay?” I asked politely, keeping my distance. “Yeah, all good. You look a bit out of it. Did a late night party wear you out?” “Party?” I replied, confused. I’d gone to bed early.

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Something’s been off with my housekeeper’s daughter, Sophia, lately. She keeps staring at me with this hostile look, almost like it’s intentional, and then she’ll blast those “Switched Heiress” podcasts in the living room. My brother, Ethan, has had enough and came to vent to me. “Nat, you think Sophia actually believes you and she were switched at birth?” he groaned. “And, like, it’s weird—she’s been looking at me with this ‘loving’ stare lately. Totally creepy.” I chuckled. She really thought the yearly DNA tests my family pays for don’t cover things like that? I’m Natalie James, the only heiress of James Corporation. Like most kids in wealthy families, my parents are rarely home, so they hired a live-in housekeeper to look after Ethan and me. Martha Harris, our housekeeper, has a daughter around my age named Sophia. She’s lived with us practically her entire life, eating and growing up alongside us. But here’s the strange part—Martha doesn’t seem to like her daughter very much. It’s obvious to our whole family that Martha can barely tolerate Sophia. Once, I asked my parents if we should step in. After all, Sophia is often ignored or treated harshly; it’s pitiful. But my parents told me not to interfere with other people’s family issues. Besides, the one time I spoke up on Sophia’s behalf, Martha, who’s usually kind to me, told me flatly, “That’s a family matter.” Since then, I’ve stayed out of it. But recently, Sophia’s attitude towards me has changed. Now, she gives me these strange looks and does a lot of…puzzling things around the house. First, she started pestering Ethan daily about when my parents would return from their vacation. Then, whenever she’d see me, she’d give me this odd, condescending glare. But the worst? When she’d turn up the volume on her phone, blasting those “Switched Heiress” podcasts for everyone to hear. As Ethan put it, “It’s like her whole scheme is written all over her face.” I laughed inwardly. How could that be possible? Even if Sophia and I are close in age, my parents’ DNA tests rule out anything like that. …Wait. Could I actually not be the real heiress? I immediately dashed to the study and dug out my health records. Thankfully, my parents had the foresight to include a DNA test in our yearly health checks. I might have seriously doubted myself otherwise. Seeing the clear relationship confirmation put me at ease, and I shrugged off Sophia’s bizarre fixation on “heiress switches” as some kind of obsession. Then one day, Sophia suddenly turned to Ethan at dinner and asked sweetly, “Ethan, don’t you think you and I look kind of alike?” Ethan practically choked on his food. “Sophia, are you nuts? What do you mean? My real sister is sitting right here.” Martha choked, too, clearing her throat as she shot Sophia a sharp look. “Girl, what on earth are you saying? Mr. and Mrs. James aren’t here, so it’s a privilege for us to be allowed to dine with Miss Natalie and Mr. Ethan. Show some respect!” With that, she rapped Sophia on the head with her chopsticks. Sophia’s eyes filled with tears. “Just wait till they’re back. You’ll all regret this!” she snarled, throwing a vicious look my way before storming off to her room. Um…what? I hadn’t even said anything. And I had no idea what “look” my parents could possibly give her upon their return. Martha looked embarrassed and turned to Ethan and me. “Miss Natalie, Mr. Ethan, I’m so sorry. Sophia’s been acting out lately. I’ll be sure to discipline her.” I raised an eyebrow. “Martha, your disciplinary skills might need a little work. After all, she is your own daughter, so maybe give her some care.” I emphasized “own daughter” on purpose, hoping to gauge her reaction. But Martha just chuckled. “Oh, you’re right, Miss Natalie. But people like us from small towns who barely got an education…we don’t know much about raising kids.” “Sophia’s certainly not as refined as you are, Miss Natalie. Back where I’m from, girls her age would already be married off to bring in a dowry for the family. But here, Mr. James has been so kind, supporting her education, and yet she’s ungrateful and so rude…” I couldn’t agree with her viewpoint, but I could tell she had zero concern about whether Sophia was her daughter or not. Curious, I asked, “Martha, you’ve always treated me so well.” Martha’s face brightened. “Of course! Mr. and Mrs. James have been so good to me, and I’ve watched you grow up. To me, you’re as dear as a daughter—maybe even dearer than my own.” At that moment, I actually felt a bit sorry for Sophia. Imagine having a mom like that. I smiled. “Martha, you should focus more on your own daughter. You might avoid some trouble that way.” I left the dining room, ignoring Martha’s puzzled look.

Ethan’s been complaining to me nonstop. Though he’s used to Sophia’s little attempts to get close to him, he said this time was a whole new level of strange. “Nat, she’s been taking my clothes to wash, lurking outside my study after her midnight showers, and hanging around my class door every chance she gets. But now she’s acting like some grandmother, filling my plate like it’s her job and staring at me with this ‘loving’ gaze. I seriously can’t stand it anymore. What’s her game this time?” I sighed, as frustrated as he was. To calm him down, I promised to have a talk with Sophia once we were back at school. My dad, ever generous, had arranged for Sophia to attend Westview Prep alongside me as a perk for Martha. We were even placed in the same class, supposedly so we could “look out for each other.” But lately, Sophia seemed to be avoiding me on purpose. Wherever I went, she wasn’t there. Even at school, running into her felt like sheer luck. Today, my luck must’ve been exceptional because as soon as I walked into the classroom, there she was, dressed to the nines and surrounded by classmates. “Sophia, that outfit! And the bag—must’ve cost a fortune, right?” “Oh, not really,” she giggled, “I just saw it while shopping and thought, ‘why not?’” “Wow, I never realized Sophia wasn’t from an ordinary family like us. Looks like we have a real heiress among us.” Sophia grinned. “Heiress? Just what my parents gave me, that’s all. What’s mine is mine, you know? Unlike some people, who can only pretend they belong—wasting all that effort for nothing.” She looked directly at me as she said it. One of my friends leaned over and whispered, “Isn’t she just Martha’s daughter? Natalie, does your family pay your housekeeper that much, or did her mom win the lottery? She’s flaunting all this luxury like she just came into money.” “What does she mean by that? Think she got swapped at birth with a rich kid?” “Natalie, isn’t she implying you and she…?” I was speechless. I had no clue where Sophia was getting the cash for all this. Only a few of my closer friends knew she was Martha’s daughter. Out of respect, they’d always kept her background a quiet secret. “She’s starting to sound delusional,” I muttered, arriving at a conclusion after some thought. I walked over to her. “Sophia, come with me. I need a word.” Sophia froze. She’d been avoiding me for days and probably never expected me to confront her head-on. After all, in those “switched heiress” stories, the imposter was always too timid to face the real heiress. Around us, people began whispering. “I’ve never seen Natalie talk to Sophia before.” “Did you hear what Sophia just said? Could they have actually been swapped?” “What? You’re kidding. No one would risk crossing the James family.” “Isn’t she, like, really close with Natalie’s brother? Actual siblings wouldn’t go that far, right?” Ignoring the gossip, I walked straight outside, and after fixing her clothes, Sophia followed me. I cut to the chase. “You know why I want to talk, don’t you?” Sophia’s face broke into a smug smile. “Well, since you already know you’re in my place, why not tell Mom and Dad yourself? Maybe I’ll even put in a good word for you to get some extra support.” For a moment, I felt like my brain had short-circuited. “Sophia, what nonsense are you talking about?” She scoffed, “Oh, come on, Natalie! You know I’m the real James heiress. You’ve lived the easy life I was supposed to have while I’ve suffered. You owe me, Natalie, and you’ll never pay it back.” “What proof do you even have?” “Oh, I’ve got proof,” she sneered. “Once Mom and Dad are back from their trip, the truth will finally come out. You’ll be the one begging for mercy when I kick you and your broke mom out of this house.” I was about to ask where on earth she got such confidence when a sharp voice cut through our conversation. “Sophia!” Martha was striding toward us, and before I knew it, she slapped Sophia hard.

All of a sudden, everyone in the classroom poured out to see what had happened. I, too, was caught off guard by the sudden drama. Sophia clutched her cheek, red and swollen from the slap, tears welling up as if she couldn’t speak. Martha’s eyes were furious as she grabbed Sophia by the hair. “Did you transfer money out of my account, you worthless brat?! That money was for your brother’s future! Do you want us to end up on the streets? I can’t believe you’d betray me like this!” Through her tears, Martha’s voice wavered, giving everyone a clear idea of where Sophia’s luxury items had come from. I quickly stepped in and tried to separate them. “Martha, maybe let’s talk this over. We’re at school…” Martha looked around at the staring crowd and, realizing she had an audience, sank dramatically to the ground. “Lord, how could this happen to me? I saved for years to secure my son’s future, and now it’s all gone because of this ungrateful child. What am I supposed to do now?” “Is that really Sophia’s mom? She doesn’t seem like she has money.” “Didn’t you hear? Sophia probably stole her savings and went on a shopping spree.” Whispers and jeers began circulating. “Was she always this…flashy?” “Last I heard, she’s only able to go to Westview because someone sponsors her.” “Enough!” Sophia’s glare landed on me, her eyes blazing. “Natalie, this is all because of you, isn’t it? I’ve suffered for so many years in your place, and now you’re trying to humiliate me? Just wait—I swear you’ll regret it!” Without a glance back, she turned and ran, ignoring Martha’s shouts. “Hey! How dare you talk to Miss Natalie like that! Are you okay, Miss Natalie?” Martha rushed over to me, casting another furious look in Sophia’s direction as she fled. The whispers around me continued, buzzing louder. “This woman’s not actually Natalie’s mother, is she? But look how she’s way kinder to Natalie than her own daughter.” “Yeah, I heard she’s just the James family’s housekeeper.” “Then maybe it’s true? They might’ve been switched, and Martha just raised the wrong daughter.” I was about to shake off Martha’s concerned grip when a calm, familiar voice broke through the crowd. “Martha, maybe you should go check on your own daughter.” I turned and saw Lucas Sullivan standing in the hallway, his gaze steady as he walked toward me. “Natalie, class is about to start.” A couple of girls whispered excitedly nearby. “Oh my god, he’s here! I’m totally swooning.” “Even if Natalie turned out not to be the real heiress, she’d still be set marrying into the Sullivan family!” “Lucas is so perfect. And honestly, he and Natalie look so good together.” Lucas was my boyfriend, and everyone knew it. In fact, both our families fully approved of us being together. As far as family status, academics, and looks go, we’re a perfect match, and the potential partnership between our families’ businesses only sweetens the deal. Reluctantly, Martha released her grip and scurried after Sophia. I didn’t pay much attention to the gossip around us, but the recent drama had stirred up my curiosity about what Lucas thought. Once we were back in class, I asked him, “Lucas, if it turns out I’m not really the James heiress, would you still want to be with me?” He chuckled softly, as if I’d just told him a joke. “What’s so funny?” I was genuinely curious, especially since, with everything happening, it didn’t feel like such a wild possibility that I might not be the real heiress. Lucas reached over and lightly patted my head, his eyes clear and reassuring. “Whether you’re the real James heiress or not doesn’t matter to me. What matters is you—Natalie James. That’s all I care about.” That afternoon, Sophia showed up to school again, but this time, her outfit was even more extravagant than before. Our classmates exchanged confused glances, clearly struggling to make sense of her behavior. Sophia didn’t hesitate. She walked right up to me but stopped short in front of Lucas, looking uncharacteristically shy. “Lucas, I think you should know the truth. I’m the real heiress of the James family.” A collective gasp rippled through the class. She’d actually said it. “Oh?”

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I raised Avery Stone for eighteen years, and she turned out to be a fraud. My biological daughter was sent to the countryside by my husband. While Avery lived in luxury, she was out chopping wood and feeding pigs. When Avery was attending Harvard University with tutoring, she was forced to drop out. Even when she found us, Avery casually said, “I don’t want to leave Dad.” Then, my daughter inexplicably fell from a high-rise building. Unwilling to accept this, I decided to uncover the truth. However, I was severely injured when Avery drove and crashed into me. Before I died, I saw my best friend hugging Logan Blackwood as they got out of the car. “Thank you for raising our daughter for eighteen years!” When I opened my eyes again, my daughter had just been born. This time, I will protect my daughter myself! A sudden, intense pain caused me to lose consciousness. Am I dead? Everything around me is a blur of white; I can’t see anything! Am I going to heaven? But I’m so unwilling! I feel such hatred! Logan Blackwood, my husband of many years, had been cheating on me for years behind my back. The daughter I cherished so deeply turned out to be Logan’s child with his mistress! The image of my best friend embracing Logan is still vivid in my mind, and the tragic sight of my biological daughter’s death is still before my eyes! I want revenge! “Doctor! Doctor! The mother has fainted!” I vaguely hear someone shouting in my ear. The strong scent of disinfectant fills my nose. I suddenly open my eyes! Where am I? Once again, I awaken on a hospital bed! The surroundings are unfamiliar, yet it feels like I’ve been here before. “Serena, you’re finally awake! Mom was so scared!” Mom? The woman before me is well-dressed and well-maintained. She looks like my mother when she was young! Didn’t my mom pass away a few years ago? “They say childbirth is like passing through the gates of hell! Luckily, you made it safely!” Childbirth? Have I been reborn? I swiftly sit up. Where is my child? “Mom, where is my child!?” I don’t have time to savor the joy of reuniting with my mother; I start searching for my daughter. In my previous life, my daughter was swapped by Logan shortly after birth. I must ensure this never happens again! “Mom, where is my child!” I ask my mother again, desperately. “Serena, don’t worry. You passed out, and the nurses took the baby to bathe!” My mom quickly tries to comfort me. “Logan is watching over you there! Your body still needs time to heal; don’t move around too much!” “What! Logan is watching!” A chill runs from the soles of my feet up through my entire body!

I must not let Logan succeed! There’s only one thought in my mind. “Mom, I need to find my daughter. I need to go now!” Ignoring my mother’s protests and enduring the severe pain from my wounds, I dash to the door! I see Logan Blackwood approaching, holding a child! He bends down to look at the child, his eyes filled with undeniable joy! He’s succeeded! My entire body starts to tremble! In my previous life, Logan looked exactly like this when holding Lila. I wanted to name my daughter Lila Hart, but Logan insisted on the name Avery Stone, saying it signifies elegance, nobility, and hope! “Wife, why are you here? Come back to bed and lie down!” Logan looks up when he sees me, a flicker of annoyance in his eyes, quickly replaced by a look of concern. My mother also comes over, pulling me back to bed! I return to the bed, coldly staring at the swaddled baby. It’s that bastard! Replacing my biological daughter, deceiving me with eighteen years of love, stealing the life that was rightfully my daughter’s, and finally causing my accident. I now hate this bastard so much I could choke her to death! My gaze is as cold as an ice knife. Logan’s eyes remain fixed on the imposter Avery Stone, not noticing anything else. But my mother, who has been taking care of me, is stunned. “Serena, haven’t you been talking about the baby all this time? Look how cute she is!” “Logan, bring the baby closer and place her beside Serena!” “Yes, Mom!” Logan obediently holds Avery closer. “No, I’m tired. I want to rest.” Suppressing the hatred in my heart, I decide to start devising a long-term plan! I close my eyes and slowly begin to formulate a revenge plan in my mind!

Logan just started working at my father’s company, working during the day and coming to the hospital at night! He portrayed himself as the perfect husband flawlessly! In my previous life, I was moved by him and felt sorry for his hard work. But now, only I know he was doing this for his mistress, my good friend Elena Sinclair! Elena had also just given birth at the same hospital, allowing Logan to successfully swap the two children! Logan was my college classmate. He hailed from a remote Appalachian mountain village! During college, he was diligent and studious, working very hard and earning scholarships every year. Marriage, whether in ancient times or today, requires compatibility in social status. My father originally thought I should marry someone well-matched. With my persuasion, he approved Logan’s steady and hardworking nature, agreeing to our marriage. Looking back now, knowing someone’s true character by face is impossible! Logan Blackwood is a wolf in sheep’s clothing! As for when he started hooking up with Elena? I have no idea, but now that the children are born, it couldn’t have been too long! In my previous life, since childbirth, I barely worked. I was entirely focused on taking care of my daughter! I gradually handed over all the company affairs to Logan. This life, I will no longer let Hartstone Enterprises fall into Logan’s hands, brick by brick! With the doctors’ consent, I was discharged a week later and moved into a birthing center. I spent a lot of money hiring a private investigator, Mason Drake, to investigate Logan’s whereabouts and his family’s situation over the past two weeks. During our wedding, not a single person from Logan’s side attended! Logan claimed his parents had died early, and he was raised by his grandfather, who also passed away a few years ago. At the time, I felt sorry for him and consoled him, saying that his family was now mine. Looking back now, it’s laughable! Logan’s family must still have someone. In my previous life, Logan sent my daughter to the countryside!

During the day, Logan doesn’t come to the birthing center. My parents are also busy with the company, so most of the time, I’m alone! I watch Avery Stone sleeping, feeling the urge to choke her! A bastard is a bastard; she just can’t be raised properly! My daughter still doesn’t know where she’s suffering, while this bastard can lie in a premium baby crib! Damn her! Avery eventually wakes up and starts crying. I know she’s hungry. In my previous life, I raised her single-handedly. When she frowned, I knew what she needed! But I don’t want to feed her! In my previous life, I personally breastfed her. This life, I used the excuse of being unwell to refuse breastfeeding. Logan’s dissatisfied expression is hard to hide. I saw right through him! But I ignored it. Now, without me, Logan would be penniless. He doesn’t have the courage to express his dissatisfaction! I refused the imported premium baby formula my parents had prepared and used cheap, regular formula instead! I often hear the nurses secretly talking, saying that I stay at a high-end birthing center but let the baby drink regular formula. How cruel! Hehe, I don’t even want to feed her regular formula! I let Avery cry without paying any attention. The harder she cries, the more satisfied I feel! A nurse knocks on the door. I sit quietly, ignoring the knock. I had locked the door from the inside. Only my mother has the key; others can’t open it. After a long time, Avery finally gets tired of crying and falls asleep. But my mother rushes in, looking anxious! “Serena, Serena, what’s wrong? Why didn’t you open the door?” “I fell asleep, Mom. What’s wrong?” I rub my eyes, pretending to have just woken up. “I received a call from the birthing center staff saying the baby was crying. You didn’t open the door, which really worried me. I thought something happened!” My mother looks at Avery. “As long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters. Oh, I was so worried!” “No, Mom, I’m fine. I just fell asleep. I didn’t hear her cry. Did she cry?” I wear a confused expression. Avery, exhausted from crying, falls back asleep. Naturally, my mother doesn’t notice anything. “It wasn’t crying anymore. Serena, have you been feeling unhappy lately?” My mother sits by the bedside, holding my hand. “I’m fine, Mom. What could I possibly have to worry about? Don’t worry.” I squeeze my mother’s hand back, smiling with ease. A mother’s intuition is unparalleled; my mother can keenly detect any abnormalities. “As long as you’re okay. If you have anything to talk about, just tell Mom. You’ll always be Mom’s baby!” I feel a surge of emotion in my heart, warmth spreading from my fingertips to my core! “Mom!” I can’t help but call out. “Hey, I’m here!” I’m here, such a simple phrase! It’s a pity that in my previous life, my daughter never felt the warmth of home for a single day. “Mom, how’s the company?” I change the subject. “The company has your dad there. What are you worried about? Don’t worry!” “That’s good.” I smile and continue to ask. “Logan, are you still the Project Manager?” I remember that in my previous life, shortly after I gave birth, Logan was promoted by my father to Project Director. Later, against my father’s objections, I gradually made Logan take over my position as General Manager. In my previous life, I still thought my judgment was good, believing that Logan was making the company thrive! How blind I was! “Yes, Logan’s been doing great. Don’t worry, your dad is already considering promoting him to Director!” My mother seems to think I’m worried about Logan’s work and tries to comfort me. “No, Mom. I don’t think it’s urgent to promote Logan yet. Let’s wait a bit. Talk to your dad first, and I’ll discuss this when I get back!” I smile. How could I possibly be in a hurry to see Logan promoted?! I want him to stay in this position forever! “What’s wrong? Weren’t you pushing your dad for a promotion earlier?” My mother looks puzzled. “It was because I was inexperienced before. Now that I’m a mother, I understand how hard it was for you and Dad to build this business!” “You both started from scratch, built this foundation, and are selecting the right people. Of course, you have to consider multiple factors!” “Serena, you’ve really grown up!” My mother looks touched!

In the evening, Logan returns home. “Wife, I heard the baby was crying nonstop today. Did it keep you from resting?” As soon as Logan comes back, he keeps hugging the bastard Avery. In my previous life, I would have stopped him from doing this, knowing the baby was fragile and exposed to germs from adults. But now, I feel nothing. I actually want him to hug her as much as possible. “No, once I feed her, she stops crying!” I respond coldly. “That’s good. Our little baby shouldn’t disturb Mom’s rest. Mom worked hard to have you, so we need to be good and take care of Mom together!” Logan says this while lifting Avery high into the air. I watch coldly, saying nothing. Where is my daughter now! “Wife, I know it wasn’t easy for you to have our daughter. We don’t need to breastfeed her, but what about the formula? Why not switch to imported ones? The ones your parents chose earlier are pretty good.” I ignore him, and Logan continues! “You see, once the baby is well-fed, she won’t cry and disturb you, right?” Logan moves closer to me, his tone gentle. “I think this brand is pretty good. It meets national safety standards for baby formula. Kids eat a lot and get hungry quickly, so it’s normal for them to cry!” I respond in the same casual tone as always. “Wife, this is still different. How can domestic formula be as good as imported ones? Our family isn’t short on money. We can afford imported baby formula!” Logan is persistent. He moves closer to me, extending his arm to embrace me! “Yeah, we’re really not short on money! Let me do the math for you. Now that the baby is just born, she needs a lot of formula—at least six cans a month. I’m in the birthing center now, with no income. Your current salary, after normal expenses, can only afford three cans! Not to mention diapers and other supplies!” I rise to avoid Logan’s touch, calmly breaking down the numbers for him. “Don’t we still have your parents? And I’m about to get a promotion!” Logan’s face flashes with embarrassment. “This isn’t right. We’re married, and even the baby formula costs your parents money. That’s unacceptable. You’re not promoted yet. Let’s wait until you are, and then we’ll talk!” What a slick plan! Using my parents’ money to raise your illegitimate child. Logan Blackwood, you are shameless! With your salary, your bastard only deserves cheap formula! Still wanting a promotion? Ha, wait and see. I’ll make sure you stay stuck! Logan is silenced, his formerly brazen face now silent! He turns around and starts playing with Avery. I walk into the inner room, unwilling to see Logan’s true colors any longer!

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In college, I messed things up with one of the wealthiest girls on campus. Three years later, after a burst pipe in my apartment, I headed to crash at my buddy’s place and accidentally climbed into the wrong bed—hers. She gave me this cool, mocking smile. “Oh? Thinking of rekindling old flames?” Panicked, I tried to leave, but she pulled me back. “What’s the rush? You’re here already.” In my dream, I held someone warm, soft, and close, her smooth skin beneath my fingertips. The moment was thrilling, almost real—until a sharp pain shot through my ear. I snapped awake, finding myself face-to-face with those unforgettable eyes and a pair of soft lips moving as if in slow motion. “Ethan Blake,” she drawled, “after all this time, you really choose this way to meet up? What, feeling nostalgic?” I was so spooked I grabbed my ear back and jumped out of bed, face flushing. Veronica Grant, my ex. How did I end up in bed with her? Her hair spilled across the pillow, and she was only wearing a thin silk tank top. She looked… stunning. I could barely get the words out. “Wha—what are you doing here?” She narrowed her eyes. “Funny, I was going to ask you the same thing.” All I wanted to do was bolt, but just as I tried, she gripped my arm. “What’s the rush? Here already, might as well stay.” How did I not know I’d climbed into my ex’s bed? My apartment’s pipes had burst late at night, and I went to crash at Nate’s place, trying not to wake anyone. But apparently, I ended up in the wrong room. The commotion woke up the house’s actual owner. Nate showed up in his pajamas, voice booming down the hall. “Ronnie, it’s the middle of the night! What’s going on?” When he saw me, his eyes went wide. “Dude, what are you doing here?” I chuckled nervously. “Pipes burst at my place. Needed a last-minute spot to crash.” Nate pulled me aside, shooting me a knowing look. “She’s my cousin, man. You two… in the same bed?” I wanted the earth to swallow me. Of all the people I wanted to avoid, Veronica was number one. This girl I’d once cared about more than anyone else… we’d just never had the right timing.

In college, Veronica was the school’s untouchable “ice queen.” I saw her at a club meeting one day and was smitten instantly. I heard she came from money and had pretty high standards. One day, she sprained her ankle in the locker room, limping out with her face scrunched in pain. I happened to be passing by, so I picked her up without thinking and carried her to the health center. After that, we became friends. Despite her icy reputation, she was surprisingly down-to-earth and forgetful, often texting me to help her pick up things she’d forgotten. She used to joke, saying I had to have a girlfriend to be so thoughtful. I’d laugh it off. “Nope, you’re the first.” She’d look at me with that spark in her eye and grab my hand. As we got closer, I learned that, aside from her looks, her “queen” status was tied to the world she came from—a circle of the ultra-wealthy that had little in common with mine. But she said she hated the fake world of high society and appreciated that I was just… real. It thrilled me. I introduced her to things I loved, like the best burger joint in town. When I earned a little money from helping professors with projects, I’d treat her to cheap-but-good eats. She’d sometimes offer to pay, but I’d wave it off. “Paying’s my job,” I’d say. “Leave it to me.” I might not be able to give her a life of luxury, but I wanted to give her my best. One night, as we stood in a quiet corner on campus, I couldn’t hold back anymore and kissed her. She kissed me back passionately. We were all wrapped up in each other for a while. It was just a regular relationship—one that didn’t survive the storms that followed.

One day, this guy named Brad Vaughn came up to me, looking all smug. “I’m her fiancé. You need to back off.” I stared at him, shocked. “She never mentioned she was engaged.” “Our families have an understanding. You’re not gonna be her boyfriend—ever.” “What can you give her, really? Just more baggage?” I didn’t buy it and argued back, but he just raised a brow. “Let me show you what her life’s like.” He dressed me up, convincing me to disguise myself, and took me to a mansion. Inside, she wore a gorgeous evening gown, hair up, mingling at a high-end gathering, all charm and poise. She moved through the room like a queen, flawless. And me? I looked down at my jeans and sneakers, feeling out of place. “See?” he said. “She’s up there. You’re down here, just a guy who took her out for cheap eats. She needs someone who can match her.” I bit back the urge to argue, though I insisted, “But she likes me.” Brad just laughed. “There are a bunch like you. Check her phone if you don’t believe me.” “She’s got people in her contacts divided by groups. Us, her circle, are in one group. You and others like you? You’re in another.” The next day, while she stepped away, I checked her phone. Sure enough, I was just a coded name in her contacts, lumped in with seven or eight others. When she came back, I asked, “You ever get bored with me?” She just gave a little smile. “No. I love being with you. You’re a break from the whole ‘perfect’ routine.” “And anyone else you feel that way with?” She tilted her head thoughtfully. “There are a few.” My heart sank. “Do you see me in your future?” “Of course! I want you by my side in the company. It’s like that new word everyone’s using—‘kept man.’ What do you think?” She gave me a playful grin, but I felt gutted. This wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted a partner, an equal. Finally, one evening after a sad movie, I had a moment of clarity. “Let’s break up.” She stared at me, shocked, then stubbornly agreed. “Fine. But don’t regret it.” When she texted me again, I blocked her. Just like that, three years passed, and I heard she moved abroad.

Nate’s jaw dropped. “Dude, you and my cousin… that’s why she was so down a while back. She locked herself in her room, barely talking to anyone.” I never imagined she’d be upset over me. I figured I was just another guy among those coded names on her phone. “Getting dumped sucks for everyone. It’s no big deal,” I shrugged. The next day, I was back to work, needing to find a plumber and get my apartment fixed. But I had to rush out for an important project meeting first. When my team arrived, who was there to meet us but Veronica herself. My heart froze, but there was no way out. “This project’s under a tight schedule,” she said, coolly professional. “We’ll need frequent meetings, and I’ll have to confirm some requirements with you directly.” I nodded. “Got it. We’re committed.” She turned to me. “Ethan, would you come to my office to discuss a few details?” I followed her in. Her office was elegant, with a clean, minimal style that didn’t quite match the carefree girl I used to know. Her business suit fit her perfectly, a picture of authority. She ran through the project, and I responded as best I could. Then, suddenly, she shifted the topic. “This project will mean late nights. Won’t your girlfriend mind?” I shook my head. For some reason, I couldn’t stop myself. “You’ll be working with us, too. Won’t your boyfriend mind?” She gave me a lazy smile. “Oh, he’s got a bit of a temper—pretty possessive.” I couldn’t help but think she meant Brad. A bitter feeling rose up in me. “Maybe you shouldn’t stay so late, then,” I muttered. “I can catch you up in the morning.” She studied me for a moment, then got up and sat right next to me.

I awkwardly scooted to the side, but she tugged my sleeve. “Why’d you block me? Can’t we at least stay friends?” I couldn’t meet her eyes, feeling a familiar ache. She leaned closer, her breath warm against my face. “Ethan, I—” Before she could finish, there was a knock. And in walked Brad. “Ronnie, sorry to interrupt. Didn’t know you had company.” He stopped, spotting me. “Well, if it isn’t Ethan Blake,” he sneered. “I hear you’re a project manager now. Impressive.” Seeing him made my stomach twist. He went over and put his arm around Veronica, pulling her close. “Dinner tonight, right? Got us a table.” He looked back at me. “Care to join?” I shot to my feet. “Sorry, I’ve got plans with my girlfriend.” Veronica’s eyes widened as I bolted out of there, Brad’s smug look following me. The frost I’d buried away all these years cracked wide open. That “girlfriend” I mentioned? Lindsey Hayes. Another college friend. She’d chased me back in school, but I’d brushed her off. Recently, her family’s company hired ours for a project, so I’d been on her turf for a few months. As the client, Lindsey kept setting up “team dinners,” always trying to get me tipsy and eyeing me like some prize. At that moment, she was my only escape.

I never expected that this project would put me face-to-face with Grant Industries—the company now headed by Veronica herself. I did everything I could to avoid her. If she didn’t specifically ask for me, I’d steer clear, and if she did, I’d bring a colleague along to minimize our one-on-one time. But I couldn’t ignore seeing Brad in her office. He showed up so often, just hanging around while we discussed work. Sometimes he’d even chime in on our meetings. Rumor around the office was that they were practically a couple. One night, I stayed late, trying to debug a line of code that refused to cooperate. I was so absorbed in my work that I didn’t hear her walk up until she handed me a cup of coffee. Startled, I jumped, accidentally spilling it all over her. Panicking, I grabbed a napkin and tried to clean up, my hands brushing over the thin fabric of her blouse. Realizing what I was doing, I jerked back and stood there like a kid caught doing something wrong. Veronica sighed. “Could you run downstairs and get me a change of clothes?” I hurried down to the 24-hour store on the corner, grabbing a blouse and pants. I hesitated, then threw in a set of undergarments, remembering the spill had soaked right through. When I handed her the bag, she looked at me, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. “Remember my size? You haven’t noticed I might’ve changed a bit over the years?” I looked away, embarrassed. “Well, you’re still in good shape, but just to be safe, I went a size up.” After changing, she came back looking different—almost like the girl I used to know, the one who’d join me for late-night fries and laughs. Just as she was about to speak, my phone rang. “Yeah, I’ll be right there,” I replied, holding up my phone to show her. “Sorry, family emergency. Gotta run.” Without waiting for her response, I grabbed my bag and hurried out.

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One day, a notice popped up in the Building Residents’ Group Chat: “Since I have a lot of relatives who often need a place to stay, I plan to buy up all the apartments on the third floor. Please prepare for your property transfer.” “However, I don’t have the funds to pay you all up front, so you can stay in my units by deducting your rent as payment towards the purchase, at $5,000 a month.” “Feel free to stay in my apartments, but you’ll need to clear out whenever my relatives visit! Leave everything in place — bedding, towels, cookware, the works. My guests will need to use those too.” This message came from Dale Winters, the tenant in 302. He saw I wouldn’t agree to his absurd demands, so he decided he’d just take over my apartment. Well, I wasn’t having it. I called in my 13-year-old little brother, Billy Langston, and my 80-year-old, spirited grandmother, Hattie Langston, for backup. Oh, and I brought out my official diagnosis report of Bipolar Disorder. The doorbell began ringing furiously. Peeking through the peephole, I saw a man and a woman standing on my doorstep with documents in hand, looking ready to barge right in. “Open up!” the woman demanded, “We’ve got the property transfer contract ready for you. Just sign and pay the $5 printing fee.” I had to laugh — they wanted my apartment for free and expected me to cover their printing costs? Bold didn’t even cover it! “Oh sure,” I said with thick sarcasm, “How about I toss in my smart TV and the air conditioner while I’m at it?” “Well, aren’t you a sensible girl,” said Dale, belly jiggling as he chuckled, like he was handing down a blessing. “I’ll let you stay a few more months if you sign.” Somehow, my apartment was already his, even though I hadn’t signed a thing. The woman’s patience was shorter. She kicked the door hard and shouted, “What’s with your attitude? Sign, or pay for my relatives to stay in a five-star hotel!” I’d never seen such shameless people in my life. I wasn’t about to take this lying down, so I called the Hollow Creek Police Department. While waiting, I shouted back through the door, “You want my apartment? Sure thing! Just name me in your will and wait ‘til I’m dead. Then it’ll be all yours.” “You piece of crap! Are you asking for it?” Dale snapped, and the two of them started pounding on my door. This was an old building, and the doorframe wasn’t sturdy. Watching the door shake, panic began clawing up my chest, making it hard to breathe. To avoid a direct confrontation, I quickly shoved some heavy furniture against the door. “What’s the plan here? You’re going to break into my place in broad daylight? I’ve already called the cops!” “Break in? This is my place, you little thief!” Dale yelled back, “You’re the one who should be arrested!” My breathing quickened, and my hands started trembling. It felt like there was a beast inside me, one I couldn’t hold back much longer. I stumbled to my room, my vision blurring, and found my pills. I swallowed one dry, the rough pill scraping down my throat. My diagnosis report slipped from the drawer, the words “Diagnosed Bipolar Disorder” in stark letters across the top.

The police arrived not long after. Seeing the officers, the woman put on a new face. Instead of showing an ounce of fear, she started to wail, “Officer, you have to help us! This woman’s trying to take over our property!” The officers looked stunned; they’d arrived while she and her husband were cursing and kicking my door. I stepped out and, with a bit of dramatic flair, told the officers exactly what had happened. They looked at Dale and Linda with clear irritation. “The owner hasn’t agreed to sell, so how do you figure it’s your property?” one officer asked, “And does it even sound reasonable that you’d get to ‘buy’ a place just by reducing rent?” Despite the officer’s pointed questions, Linda didn’t miss a beat. “Look, we’re negotiating! Neighbors should help each other out. I’m letting them stay here out of the goodness of my heart. What more do they want?” The officer’s eyebrow shot up — she was the epitome of “shameless.” He was nearly speechless. Since they hadn’t actually broken in yet, the officer just gave them a warning. “Listen, buying property requires mutual consent. This isn’t up to you. If you keep causing trouble, you’ll be joining us down at the station.” Glaring at me, Dale and Linda reluctantly stomped back to their apartment, defeated for now. I went back inside, collapsing on the bed and gulping down air. It’d been over five years since my last episode. I thought I’d finally gotten it under control. But after dealing with these two psychos, I really felt like picking up a carving knife and ending this nonsense. I hoped the police would scare them off for a few days. But the next morning, I was jolted awake by screaming and sobbing outside my door.

“I told you, if you want to buy my apartment, then pay me! But asking me to pay rent while you slowly ‘buy’ it? That’s just ridiculous!” It was Kate Dawson, my neighbor from across the hall. Kate had a rough life, forced into marriage early so her family could afford a dowry for her brother. She saved up for years to buy this little place and still had a ton of loans to pay off. How could she possibly agree to their absurd demands? “Ridiculous? Let me tell you what’s ridiculous!” Linda yelled. “Sign the papers! My family’s arriving tonight, so get your room cleared out. You can crash on the floor in the living room and cook and clean for my relatives while you’re at it!” Linda eyed Kate up and down, muttering, “What, twenty-five, twenty-six? Still single, huh? Well, my brother’s only forty. You marry him, pop out a son, and you’ll have a place to live forever!” “You!” Kate stammered, unable to stand up to the woman’s relentless bullying, tears welling up in her eyes. Seeing how easily Kate was rattled, the couple pressed forward, practically trying to push their way inside. “So you two want a trip to the station?” I barked, stepping between them and Kate. They stumbled back, and I put a protective arm around her. “You again, you little brat! Need a beating, do you?” Dale sneered, rolling up his sleeves as if to take a swing. Luckily, I’d come prepared. I reached behind me, pulling out a gleaming meat cleaver. The blade’s shine made them both step back in horror. “What’s your plan? Cut someone in broad daylight?” Linda stammered, her bravado melting away. “What’s your plan?” I replied. “Harassing a woman in broad daylight? Breaking into people’s homes?” They didn’t respond, only backed away, muttering threats before hurrying back to their apartment. I caught a glimpse of Charlie, their son, leering at me from their doorway, eyes full of resentment.

“Thank you… Without you, I don’t know what I would’ve done!” Kate Dawson sobbed, clearly shaken. I reassured her as I messaged Mr. Ron Collins. That’s when I learned the full story: the Winters had just barely bought the place, but they were behind on payments to the previous owner, who’d had trouble collecting the last bit of money. No wonder Mr. Collins had his hands tied. All he could do was try to keep an eye on them and hope things didn’t escalate. This couldn’t keep going on like this. I lay in bed, running through options. Moving? I’d invested too much money into this place, and with neighbors like them, selling would be tough. The police? So far, they hadn’t done anything major, so all the cops would give them was a warning. By the time they crossed the line, calling for help might be too late. I could feel my anger heating up. Not a good sign. I swallowed another pill and lay down. Drifting between sleep and waking, I was jarred awake by loud banging outside my door. Furious, I checked the peephole. Sure enough, there was Linda Winters, ushering in five or six relatives. Our one-bedroom apartments were tiny — nowhere near big enough for so many people. Just as I was wondering how they were all going to fit, I saw Dale Winters jamming a crowbar into the lock of the vacant unit across the hall, shoving the rest of his relatives inside. The owner was hardly ever home, which was probably why the Winters thought they could get away with it. I immediately notified Mr. Collins, who sighed in response. He couldn’t reach the owner, so without consent, he couldn’t report the break-in. I knew he just wanted to avoid a confrontation. Fine, I told myself. Just stay out of it unless they mess with me. I slipped on my headphones and tried to sleep. I woke up in the middle of the night, hungry, so I took my headphones off. As I headed for the kitchen, I heard some rustling sounds outside my door. I figured it was a mouse or something small, but then the sound grew louder. It was mixed with heavy, weird breathing. I tiptoed to the peephole and took a look. My eyes felt violated. Charlie Winters — the chunky, foul-smelling teenager I’d seen earlier — was standing outside, peeing on my wall.

My fury hit a new high. Without a second thought, I threw open the door and gave him a brutal kick to his lower half. “AHHH!” He shrieked, rolling on the ground, and my rage turned to satisfaction. “Think you can mark your territory at my door? Next time, I’ll make sure you never try again!” Grabbing a pair of scissors from the kitchen, I dangled them just close enough to terrify him. Still clutching himself, Charlie scrambled back into his apartment, leaving a trail behind him. Holding my breath against the stench, I used a dustpan to scrape the mess back to their doorway. Just as I was about to close my door, Linda stormed up, yelling furiously. Luckily, I managed to close the door just as she lunged, hearing a loud thud followed by her yelping in pain. “You heartless monster! How dare you hurt my son! He’s my precious boy! If he’s injured, you couldn’t pay enough to cover it!” “Oh, please. ‘Precious’ seems like a stretch. Looks more like trash to me,” I muttered, listening through the door. “You lowlife! I’ll kill you!” “Look, keep pushing, and I’ll call the cops. And don’t forget, you just broke into someone else’s place today. One more thing, and it’s off to the station for you.” My warning must’ve hit home because she muttered some curses and slammed her door. I sprayed some perfume around my doorway to get rid of the smell. Even then, I couldn’t sleep, so I watched TV until I finally dozed off. At around six in the morning, the banging started again. They just wouldn’t stop.

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When my dad walked in on my mom cheating, he beat her so badly she was barely recognizable. I had to pull him off her to save her from worse. Later, she and her lover, Mark Ellis, poisoned my dad. Fearing the truth would come out, she locked me up, broke my limbs, and stitched my mouth shut so I couldn’t make a sound. Right before I died, I learned my brother Travis had taken out a million-dollar loan using my social security number. My family thrived off my name and money. Then, I opened my eyes—I was back on the day my mom got caught. Seeing that familiar scene, I felt my lips curl up into a smile. Go on, Dad. Hit her harder. She deserves it. “Linda Grant, have you any idea how I’ve treated you all these years? Since Diana was born, I’ve wanted you to live comfortably, so I covered all our expenses myself.” “And when Travis was born, I treated you like a queen. But look at you—you went and cheated!” “How dare you?!” With that, my dad raised the baseball bat and swung it toward my mom. Right then, I instinctively raised my arm, moved my legs, realizing that my body was whole and unharmed. I touched my lips; no cracked wounds or rows of stitches… I had been reborn. Travis’s face turned ghostly white as he grabbed my hand, voice choked with tears. “Diana, go stop Dad. If he keeps going, Mom will die!” Hearing that, my mom shot me a pleading look. Her body was bruised and bloody, her eyes were red, and blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth. “Diana, your dad listens to you. I promise I’ll never do it again!” “It’s all that bastard Mark’s fault. He lured me in, and I just lost control for a minute!” Even though I’d already died once, their pleas felt like being stabbed, each word a knife twisting in my flesh. In my last life, this had happened, too. My mom kept begging for mercy, and I softened, asking my dad again and again to give her another chance. I had no idea that, while she pretended to be the devoted wife, she was plotting with Mark to poison my dad’s food. They had him cremated while I wasn’t home. Later, she even had the audacity to marry Mark, calling herself a “single mom with two kids” who “needed a man to help around the house.” One night, I overheard them talking and finally learned the truth. My dad hadn’t died of a heart attack; they’d killed him, slowly and deliberately. I tried to pretend I didn’t know and sought a way to get revenge, but I knocked over a decoration in the process, tipping her off. Afraid I’d go to the police, my mom and Mark tied me to my bed. They broke my arms and legs so I couldn’t escape and sewed my mouth shut so I couldn’t speak. In desperation, I pinned my hopes on my brother, Travis. But what I never dreamed was that he would mockingly hold up my ID and say, “Sis, you ever heard of debt mules?” “I checked. You have a clean record and can take out over a million. Consider it your contribution to the family.” Then he lifted my chin, his smile as cold as it was cruel. “Oh, and by the way, I’m not even John Grant’s son. You’ll be joining your dead father real soon.” Remembering that brought a bead of sweat to my forehead. My open hand clenched into a fist. Last time, they killed my father and me in cold blood. This time, I’m making them pay.

“Dad, if things have come this far, you two might as well get divorced. Travis and I are already grown.” They all stared, shocked. They didn’t believe those words had just come out of my mouth. My dad’s hand froze mid-air. He took a step back and sat down hard on the couch. My mom staggered to her feet, pointing at me and screaming, “Diana, are you even human? How can you say something like that?!” “Do you know how hard it is for kids from single-parent families? Travis is a senior in high school! He’s got a crucial year ahead, and you don’t care about his future!” I let out a sarcastic chuckle and looked at her with a newfound hatred. Ever since she got pregnant with me, she’d been a stay-at-home mom. My dad worked himself to the bone to provide a good life for Travis and me, carrying the burden of supporting our family all on his own. Growing up, I’d resented him countless times. On every holiday, it seemed it was always just the three of us at home. But as I got older, I realized my dad was the one sacrificing the most. He’d keep only a couple of dollars a week for himself, sending the rest to my mom. He wore old, faded jackets while buying us sneakers that cost hundreds. He’d eat plain bread and water, giving the best to us with a smile, insisting he was full. In the end, it was because of us that he endured so much. Seeing that I wasn’t giving in, Travis shot me an angry look. “Diana, what kind of daughter tells her parents to get divorced?” My mom pulled him close, crying even louder. “Exactly! I raised you all these years, and now you’re not even on my side. But at least I have my son.” “John, for the kids’ sake, forgive me just this once. After everything we’ve been through, could you really bear to let it end?” “No matter how devoted Diana is, she’s still just a girl. We’ll need Travis to take care of us when we’re old. If we really split up… what would it do to him?” My mom knew that family was everything to my dad, and she put on a pitiful act, hoping he’d soften. Even though he was tough, he’d never thought sons were more important than daughters. Late nights while I was studying, he’d send encouraging texts, urging me on. “Girls need to explore the world, not be stuck in some small town,” he’d say. “Having you was meant to bring joy into my life, not trap you under someone else’s shadow.” I walked slowly over to him, noticing his back was now bent and weak, no longer the proud, resilient man he once was. I sat next to him, leaning against his shoulder, my voice shaking. “Dad, you’ve worked so hard all these years…” “Your daughter’s all grown up now. You don’t have to take care of me anymore.” “Please, live the life you deserve.” He lifted his head slowly, meeting my gaze. Tears glistened in his eyes. My mom threw Travis a glance, and he got the hint. He dropped to his knees, clutching my dad’s pants. “Dad, Mom knows she made a mistake…” “Dad, I don’t want you to split up.” My mom stood nearby, her tears flowing in rivers. But I knew it wasn’t my dad she couldn’t bear to lose. It was her “money machine.”

Later, my dad moved his bedding to the living room, ignoring my mom. But she and Travis dragged me into a room and started tearing into me. “Diana, you really just let him hit me, didn’t you? Enjoyed it, didn’t you?” Then she reached to grab my arm, but I dodged. “You brat, how dare you fight back? Don’t think that if we get divorced, you’ll get the house. Dream on. It all goes to your brother.” In our last life, my mom was a master at double-dealing. To the rest of the family, she acted as though she treated me and Travis equally. But behind closed doors? From the day Travis was born, he became her whole world. I was tasked with watching over him, cleaning the house, doing the cooking. The best of everything went to him, and if I so much as snuck a taste, I’d be punished, made to kneel in the kitchen all night, not allowed to sleep. By my senior year, I looked so malnourished people thought I was still in middle school. Whenever my dad came home, she’d pretend to care for me and always threatened that if I told him, she’d beat me even harder once he left. Even after I started working, she kept controlling me. Knowing Travis struggled with school, she pushed for expensive tutors and then started eyeing my paycheck. Her plan was for me to go unpaid and tutor him myself so he’d get into a good college. Remembering this, I let out a smile. It’s time they woke up from their dream. This time, Travis sneered with a twisted smile, taunting, “That’s right. Girls are money sinks, born to serve us.” “First you hand over your paychecks, then your dowry. And you’ll squeeze every penny from your in-laws to support me—that’s your destiny!” My mom, sensing I was staying silent, raised her hand to slap me, but I screamed louder than her. “Mom, I get it! I’m sorry! Please, don’t hit me again!” The two of them froze, thrown off by my reaction. Moments later, my dad stormed into the room, eyebrows knitted as he stepped between me and them. “Linda Grant, who the hell do you think you are, putting your hands on my daughter?” Travis quickly tried to cover, “Dad, don’t listen to Diana. Mom loves her! She’d never hit her.” Inside, I couldn’t help but laugh at his pathetic attempt. So, we’re playing pretend now? I raised my arm without a second thought, rolling up my sleeve to reveal the bruises. “Dad, I’m not lying. Mom hit me, just now.” “She called me a waste of space and said I was born to give up everything for Travis, so he could live a better life.” Already furious, my dad’s anger reached a boiling point. Without hesitating, he turned and slapped my mom across the face. “If I ever hear you say another word like that, pack your things and leave. Take your son with you!” I watched his retreating figure, my eyes filling with tears as a heavy fog of emotion welled up inside me. In both lives, he’d always been the one person who truly loved me. But this time, it’s my turn to protect him.

That night, I lay awake, memories of the last life replaying over and over in my mind. The torment, the betrayals—I’d make sure they paid for all of it, with interest. The next morning, while my parents took Travis to a parent-teacher meeting, I set up the camera I’d bought, aiming it directly at the guest bedroom where they often schemed. I refused to tutor Travis anymore, making an excuse about an upcoming business trip, and I checked into a cheap motel to put distance between us. Back when I’d first graduated and landed a job, my mom had taken my paycheck, saying it was for “family support.” Left with nothing, I’d worked days at my job and nights delivering takeout just to get by. Her demands had started small but grew rapidly. The more I gave, the greedier she got, wanting thousands each month for Travis’s needs. After a week, things calmed down, and my dad’s anger seemed to have subsided. I watched the footage from the camera on my phone, listening as my mom and Travis chatted in the guest bedroom. Travis was whining, clutching my mom’s arm. “Mom, all my friends have the latest iPhones. Can’t you just take some of Diana’s money and get me one?” “Look at this old phone; it’s so slow it can barely load my games!” My mom smiled tenderly, brushing his hair back—a softness I’d never seen directed toward me. “Baby, that money’s set aside for your future. Besides, that little idiot Diana’s still obedient. If she’d snitched to your dad, we’d have nothing left.” “She’s such a sucker,” Travis scoffed, lounging back as she fed him fruit. “You should just kill Dad. Then we’ll have everything to ourselves.” I felt a chill run down my spine. My mom hesitated, but he pressed on, “Remember the last time he nearly beat you to death? Showing him mercy is a danger to yourself.” “Well, he’s heading out of town tomorrow. Just get rat poison from his friend—that way, even if there’s an investigation, it won’t trace back to us.” I sat bolt upright in my bed, heart pounding as I calculated. They were planning to move soon. What I didn’t expect was for someone to make the first move before they could even begin.

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