Author: Momo Chan

Title: What’s It Like to Have a Jerk for a Boyfriend? In chick lit, there’s a cliche called “replacement love.” It’s when the male lead, missing someone he loves, finds a girl who looks just like her. Unbelievably, I ended up as the unlucky woman studying abroad, only to be cheated on. My first boyfriend couldn’t dodge the cheesy plot; he started dating someone who looks a lot like me. When I came back to town, he brought his new girlfriend to my welcome home party. Friends from our circle were all waiting to see me flustered. They were in for a surprise though, as I brought my new boyfriend back as well. The day Kai Dawson broke up with me, he sent a text: “Sorry, Sue. I broke my promise. I don’t want to wait anymore.” At that time, I still had a year left in school. We had survived three years long-distance, but our relationship fell apart in the last year. He had shown signs of losing interest, so I wasn’t too surprised. Swallowing my sadness, I replied: “It’s okay, let’s just be friends.” “Alright.” But later, I found out he had blocked me. A good ex is like being dead. I didn’t blame him and just blocked him back. Before returning from Italy, some old friends insisted on throwing me a welcome back party. They didn’t tell me that Kai and his new girlfriend would be there. Luckily, my best friend couldn’t stand it and tipped me off. “Sue, don’t go! They just want to humiliate you! Kai’s new girl is afraid he might still have feelings for you, so she demanded this party to show off.” I shrugged off her concern, “Aside from them, there are other people I haven’t seen in a while. I’ll just give them face and show up.” “It’s all Kai’s buddies. I wish I could be there to support you. Don’t let them get to you!” “Thanks for the heads-up. If someone’s set the stage for me, I can’t let them down. Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan.” The day I returned, I went to the party as planned. The waiter opened the private room door, and the first person I saw was Kai, sitting at the head of the table. A year hadn’t changed his good looks and confident demeanor. Next to him sat a stunning woman, his new girlfriend Evelyn, a recent hire at Kai’s company. She bore an uncanny resemblance to me. My heart tightened at the sight. I remembered two years ago when Kai sent me a picture of Evelyn. “A new recruit came in for an interview today. She startled me; I thought you had snuck back to surprise me.” Back then, Evelyn looked even more like me—same hairstyle, makeup, and fashion sense. I laughed it off, joking, “Maybe we’re related. I need to ask my dad.” Kai said, “No, she’s not. She’s from out of town, her parents are alive, and she has a twin brother who looks nothing like her.” “You checked into her background?” “Of course, we need to know about new hires.” Who would’ve thought that the girl I didn’t think twice about would replace me so completely? Back in the present, Kai’s friend Finn stood up. “Welcome back, Sue. It’s great to have our star back…” His voice trailed off as everyone looked at the man behind me. I greeted them calmly: “It’s been a while. Thanks for remembering me.” Finn forced a laugh and asked, “Sue, who’s this? Aren’t you going to introduce him?” Stepping aside, I proudly introduced, “This is Gareth Kirby, my boyfriend.” The word ‘boyfriend’ made everyone’s eyes widen in surprise. Gareth flashed his dazzling smile, showing off two cute dimples: “Good evening, everyone. I’m honored to be here with you tonight.” Gareth is incredibly handsome, and his smile had an explosive effect. The ladies were openly staring. One girl with long black hair exclaimed, “Wow, Sue, your boyfriend is too gorgeous!” The others quickly followed: “He’s unfairly handsome! Is Gareth a model or an actor?” Before I could answer, Gareth chimed in sweetly, “Thank you for the compliment, but you’re all very beautiful too. Just call me Gareth.” Not only is he good-looking, but he’s also charming. The crowd that was waiting to mock me had their focus entirely captured by Gareth. Even Evelyn couldn’t help but sneak glances at him. Kai’s face darkened, and he said sternly: “Let’s all sit down and chat. No need to stand around.”

As Kai spoke, the chatter died down. The waiter added an extra seat, and Gareth and I sat closely together. Once seated, I began introducing Gareth to everyone at the table. Tonight was supposed to revolve around me, but everyone was now completely fixated on Gareth. Gareth had been studying in France since middle school. He’s naturally outgoing and sociable, so I wasn’t worried about him being out of place. The girl with the long straight hair teased me, “Sue, you really kept this one under wraps, didn’t you? Secretly got yourself a new boyfriend.” Her words carried a bit of edge, and I saw some people’s eyes dart between me, Kai, and Evelyn with curiosity. I smiled softly and said, “Well, life is all about moving forward, isn’t it?” Over on the other side, Evelyn shyly leaned closer to Kai. “What’s wrong?” Kai asked, genuinely concerned. “Just a bit tired from filming a late-night scene last night…” Evelyn said, trying to muster a smile, “I’ll be fine. I’ll just take a nap in the car later.” Kai’s concern was palpable, “Eat something and I’ll take you home to rest.” He urged everyone, “Let’s order some food.” Someone teased, “Mr. Dawson is such a doting boyfriend.” “With a girlfriend as beautiful as Evelyn, who wouldn’t be?” Evelyn bashfully hid her face in Kai’s shoulder, “Stop teasing me…” I could feel some probing eyes on me, waiting for my reaction. Inside, a mix of bitterness and sadness churned, but I didn’t let it show. It stung to see my longtime boyfriend with someone who was essentially my replacement, flaunting their affection right in front of me. The feeling of being outdone by a knockoff version was humiliating. “Doting boyfriend? Really?” I thought to myself. The deep affection he once showed me could transfer so easily to someone else. I couldn’t tell if that was my tragedy or his. Finn politely offered me the menu, spinning it on the lazy Susan toward me. Trying to keep my composure, I said graciously, “I’m not familiar with this restaurant. Why don’t you all order what you like? This meal is on me, so go ahead and pick anything.” Kai replied indifferently, “This place is members-only. I’ll cover it through my membership.” I smiled politely, “Thank you, Mr. Dawson. Let’s have me host next time.” Gareth, without hesitation, picked up the menu and whispered in my ear, “Sue, what’s this chicken dish with sea cucumber?” “It’s a beauty-boosting dish. Want to try it?” “I’d like to.” He kept pointing out dishes and asking me about them, and I patiently explained everything I knew. Our heads were so close together it was almost like we were whispering secrets. The long-haired girl couldn’t help but ask, “Gareth, are you younger than Sue?” Without hesitation, I answered, “Yes, Gareth is six months younger than me.” The ladies chimed in with enthusiastic comments: “A younger boyfriend, how intriguing!” “Young and full of energy!” I overheard Kai’s friends whispering in Glaswegian dialect, perhaps thinking Gareth wouldn’t understand them: “A pretty boy hired to play the part?” “Must be, just to annoy Kai…” “I thought she had moved on. He’s just a kept man.” “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Disrespectful, regardless of whether it was true. Kai likely heard them, too. His lips curled into a mocking smile as he glanced at Gareth with disdain. Evelyn softly asked, “Kai, do you like younger women too?” Kai’s response was thinly-veiled disdain, “No. I’m a bit old-fashioned; I need a woman younger than me.” Clearly a jab at me, but I bit my tongue, forcing myself not to react. Gareth, oblivious or simply unbothered, kept browsing the menu. He saw a sea cucumber soup and said to one of the whispering guys, “Dougie, how about I order you some sea cucumber soup?” Dougie, trying to be polite, replied, “No, thank you, that’s too much…” Gareth smiled sweetly, “You’ve got dark circles and grey around your lips. Might be kidney issues. Sea cucumber is quite nourishing.” No man wants to hear that, and Dougie’s face turned several shades at once. He rushed to deny it, “I don’t have kidney issues!” Gareth, with unflinching innocence, said, “Your dull, oily skin and red nose suggest hormonal imbalance. You should see a specialist.”

Poor Dougie looked like he was about to explode from embarrassment, unable to come up with a retort. I playfully scolded Gareth, “Gareth, Dougie’s girlfriend would know if he had such issues. No need for you to worry.” Dougie’s girlfriend, caught in the awkwardness, took a sip of water. Gareth quickly apologized, “Sorry, Dougie, I didn’t mean to be so blunt. I know you won’t take it to heart, right?” What could Dougie say? He could only stew in his own frustration. The long-haired girl, enjoying the drama, asked, “Gareth, can you diagnose us too?” “I wouldn’t say diagnose. My grandpa’s an internist, so I picked up a bit here and there,” Gareth downplayed his knowledge, then dropped another bomb on the second whisperer, “Mr. Newman, your sparse facial hair but thick head hair is typical of someone wearing a wig.” Newman had long dealt with premature balding, always hiding it with a wig—it wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t talked about either. A few people couldn’t hold back their laughter. Newman’s smile disappeared, his tone becoming hostile, “What’s your point?” Gareth feigned surprise, “Oh? Did I say something wrong? I thought it was a wig. It’s so realistic; I was going to recommend it to my uncle. My bad. It’s real hair?” Newman, who hated any mention of his wig, almost lost it. He was about to lash out when I softly reiterated in dialect, “Pride can be a heavy burden.” Newman swallowed his retort, simmering in anger. Gareth, all innocence, asked, “Sue, what did you just say?” I smiled, “Nothing, let’s order.” Food finally arrived, and Gareth and I played the perfect hosts, urging everyone to dig in. Evelyn tenderly peeled shrimp for Kai, and Gareth cut my steak. They flaunted their affection, and we flaunted ours. Everything seemed fine until one troublemaker couldn’t keep his mouth shut. A guy with glasses said snidely, “It’s a new world where men are doing women’s work now, huh?” He then praised Kai, “Kai made the right call, choosing a gentle, traditionally-minded girl.” But before Kai could respond, the long-haired girl scoffed, “So, are you looking for a girlfriend or a maid?” Another short-haired woman chimed in, “Do you think women exist to serve you?” I smiled softly, “It’s not the Victorian era anymore.” That guy quickly became the enemy of all the women at the table. Trying to salvage his standing, he backpedaled. “Just joking. No need to be so sensitive.” Gareth, with a big grin, added, “In my family, it’s normal for men to take care of women. My mom never has to peel shrimp; my dad always does it for her. Now, even in her fifties, her hands are still soft and pretty.” Gareth peeled a shrimp in a few swift motions, removing the vein and placing it in my bowl. I smiled and thanked him. The long-haired girl chimed in, “Gareth and his dad are the real doting men here. Actions over words any day.” Kai’s face showed a hint of discomfort, and even Evelyn looked awkwardly at their half-eaten shrimp. The meal turned out to be more comfortable than I’d anticipated. Watching my ex with his new girlfriend wasn’t as painful as I’d feared. On the way back, I gazed pensively out at the night. Gareth tried to lighten the mood, “Sue, did I do alright today?”

I laughed softly, “You did amazingly well, even better than I thought you would.” “Of course! How could I let you down?” Gareth replied confidently. “By the way, do you actually understand that Glaswegian dialect?” I asked, clearing up a nagging question in my mind. “Yup,” Gareth said, puffing out his chest with pride, “I know four languages and fifteen dialects.” He started listing off, almost like showing off a treasure, “Scottish, Irish, Gaelic… I know them all.” I sighed, “You’re really something else. Being an actor is actually an understatement.” “Nah, it’s not easy being an actor either,” Gareth replied humbly. He was also an artist signed to my company. We were college mates; I studied economics, and he went to the art school. Gareth, tall and handsome with an extroverted personality, loved performing. He had experience in theater and was pretty popular on social media, making him a minor celebrity abroad. Several talent agencies had tried to sign him, and he was keen on breaking into the domestic entertainment industry. Hearing my family’s business was a film investment company, Gareth approached me. My company rarely signed new talent, preferring seasoned actors from prestigious acting schools. Despite his impressive resume, Gareth was still considered a rookie. But I needed a good-looking and talented actor to deal with Kai and the gang upon my return, so we struck a deal. Gareth said sweetly, “If you ever need me to act again, just let me know.” “Thanks, but you should focus on your career,” I replied, putting on a serious face. “I treat you the same as any other employee. I hope you earn your place at the company through your own merit.” “Yes, ma’am!” Gareth gave me a playful salute. Once home, freshly showered and ready for bed, my best friend Lily sent me a voice message: “Hey, I heard you brought a new boyfriend?! When did that happen?” I could practically see her eyes shining with gossip through the phone. I gave her a rundown of what happened. Lily chuckled, “So, you hired an actor? That’s smart. He’s handsome and charming. Who knows, maybe sparks will fly for real.” I sighed, “I don’t mix work with personal life. It’s just messy.” “True, power dynamics can get weird. But are you sure he doesn’t have other motives?” Lily interrupted herself, “Susan told me your ‘boyfriend’ roasted Kai’s friends to a crisp! Too bad I missed it!” Susan was the long-haired girl from dinner. “He’s quick-witted and has a sharp tongue…” I was saying when a friend request popped up on my phone: Evelyn. Kai’s new girlfriend wanted to add me? I was puzzled. She must’ve gotten my contact from Finn. After a few seconds of thought, I accepted. Back in the chat, Lily asked, “Still there?” “Yeah, Evelyn just added me.” “😲 What’s she want?” “No idea, maybe she has something to say?” “Drama queen.” Evelyn soon sent a greeting, to which I politely responded with a smiley emoji. Then she sent a video. In the dim light, I could see a shirtless Kai, snoring and sprawled on a pillow, with someone’s bare arm in the shot. Disgust hit me like a wave, making me feel sick. Evelyn texted: “Kai’s snoring is so loud. Was he always like this? He won’t sleep without hugging me; it gets so hot and sticky…”

Lily wasn’t wrong; Evelyn was a drama queen. Unsure how to respond, I exited the chat. Out of sight, out of mind. Lily was still curious, “Why did she add you? Did she say anything?” I sent her the video and our chat. Lily exploded, sending a barrage of memes: “Is she insane?” “I’ve never seen anyone so shameless!” “Evelyn’s crazy!” I replied, “I think I’ll just delete her.” “Don’t! She’ll think she scared you off. Keep her around. Let’s see what other stunts she tries to pull.” “Okay, I’m off to bed. You should rest too.” “You can sleep after that? That girl’s nuts! Kai’s a fool for cheating on you for her.” “Seeing them together today, I was sad. But now, I feel relieved. Once a cheater, always a cheater. Thanks to Evelyn, I see Kai clearly now.” Lily said, “You’re so chill. I’d be cussing both of them out!” I sent her a meme saying “I’m eerily calm right now.” “Don’t waste your energy on people who don’t deserve it,” I advised. Evelyn didn’t provoke me again, though she often posted lovey-dovey pictures of her and Kai in her Moments, all of which were only visible to me. Realizing this, I decided to block her. Back to Gareth, he officially joined my company as a signed actor. The company planned to film a spy drama “Misty Mist,” and I secured a role for Gareth as the third male lead. He was thrilled. “Sue, I’ve read the script. My part isn’t huge, but it’s a powerful role.” I encouraged him, “Do well, and you can aim for movies. Your career could skyrocket.” Most lead roles were taken by acclaimed actors, promising mutual success for the film. But a month before shooting, the female lead was replaced by none other than Evelyn. As a producer, I was the last to know. The investor’s representative apologetically explained, “Mr. Dawson insisted Evelyn play the role. He really wants her in this project. We hope you’ll understand.” With financial backing from Kai’s company, I had little choice. Complaining would be futile. I felt disheartened but professional, “Tell Mr. Dawson that any breach of contract fees must also be covered.” The rep readily agreed, “Of course, Mr. Dawson will handle all costs.” So, it was settled. With the closed training and filming schedule, Gareth would be in the crew for nearly half a year. I was increasingly busy and rarely had time to check in with him. Two months into filming, Gareth messaged me, “Sue, can you come visit me on set?”

I replied cheerfully, “I’d been planning to come visit you all anyway. See you in a few days.” Gareth was over the moon, his excitement so evident as he said, “Really? That’s awesome! I can’t wait!” I knew why he wanted me to come. Apparently, Kai had recently visited Evelyn on set. I chuckled, “Whatever other kids get, you’ll get too.” “Thanks, Sue!” As the weather turned colder, I made sure to bring hot drinks for the entire crew when I visited the set. Gareth was still in costume from his scene, wearing a perfectly tailored 1930s military uniform that made him look dashing and charismatic. Seeing me, Gareth lit up like a lost puppy reunited with his owner, practically wagging his tail. I patted his head and then his shoulder. Though Gareth was only six months younger than me, our dynamic often felt like… well, parent and child? Owner and pet? Today, some media were also on set for interviews. After gulping down his hot coffee, Gareth was pulled aside by the director for a press interview. He and Evelyn sat together on camera, mics in hand. After some standard questions, the reporter targeted Gareth: “As newcomers, what do you two think of each other’s performances?” Evelyn turned on her performance mode and said with exaggerated sweetness, “Gareth is great with everyone; he’s charming and always knows how to make people smile. Everyone adores him. Our producer even came today just to see him. I’ve heard Gareth was a personal recommendation by our producer, and they’re college mates. I’m sure he has qualities that really stand out, which is why the producer took special interest in him.” Evelyn was just a step away from saying Gareth got his role by cozying up to the boss. It’s true I was promoting Gareth, but he had the talent to back it up. And let’s not forget Evelyn was only here because Kai paid big bucks to get her in. Pot calling the kettle black! The reporter chuckled awkwardly and turned to Gareth, “Gareth, what do you think of Evelyn?” Gareth flashed an impish grin, “I admire Evelyn a lot. She’s come up with a brilliant way to remember her lines. She gets her assistant to write them all on big cue cards and reads off them during scenes. It’s genius! Saves so much time on memorizing. Why didn’t I think of that? Gosh, I’m really slow!” His words dripped with sarcasm, leaving Evelyn fuming and forcing a smile. The awkward tension was palpable, with some crew members stifling laughter. Evelyn forced a laugh, “That’s not true… I only use the cards as a backup. I don’t really look at them during takes…” Gareth didn’t let up, “Oh, I’m just bad at memorizing, so I use my meal breaks to study my lines. Not like Evelyn, who’s both beautiful and clever. She spends her breaks video chatting with her boyfriend. So sweet and enviable…” Gareth pretended to be shocked, covering his mouth, “Wait, was I not supposed to say that? Can we cut that part out?” Evelyn’s face turned green, her eyes rolling in exasperation. The reporter quickly changed the subject, trying to steer the interview back on track. Media folks know better than to air dirty laundry that tarnishes everyone involved. Sometimes, it takes a real jerk to beat another jerk at their own game. Internally, I rated Evelyn: “Prideful but clueless, daring to mess with Gareth—good luck!” In the entertainment industry, actors pulling each other’s hair in private isn’t unheard of. Companies usually don’t step in unless things get out of hand. But some folks just can’t let things go. Not long after, I attended a business event with my brother and ran into Kai. Pulling me aside, he got straight to the point: “You need to consider enrolling your little boyfriend in manners classes, teach him some etiquette.”

His snide tone made it clear Evelyn had complained to him, and Kai was here to defend his precious girl. I crossed my arms, unbothered, “Mr. Dawson, if you have something to say, say it straight. Where did you pick up this passive-aggressive attitude?” Kai looked a bit embarrassed but quickly regained his composure, “Evelyn truly loves this project. I helped her secure the main role because of that. Since you agreed to let her participate, don’t make things difficult for her. I always considered you a reasonable person. Don’t ruin that impression.” I wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. For heaven’s sake, who’s making things difficult? I had better things to do. And it was Evelyn who started it, Gareth merely retaliated. But expecting Kai to be objective was wishful thinking. Defending your girl is natural. Seeing my silence, Kai continued, “I know seeing Evelyn and me together hurts you… I was wrong. I’ll make it up to you in other ways. But don’t take it out on Evelyn; she knows nothing. It’s me you should be mad at.” This sounded too much like those dramatic TV clichés, and I couldn’t stand it. Cutting him off, I fired back, “Mr. Dawson, we are long over. I have no lingering feelings for you. And I’ve never targeted your girlfriend. She added me as a friend, sent me your sleeping videos. I have no interest in your playtime preferences. I just care about my company.” “Evelyn… couldn’t have,” Kai looked genuinely confused, unable to believe his sweet girlfriend could be so petty. I pulled up my chat logs with Evelyn as proof. Seeing the evidence, Kai was dumbstruck. I continued, “Invest in a few acting classes for your girlfriend. As an actress, she should focus on honing her skills. Viewers can tell when actors aren’t putting in the effort. If you can’t bear to see her struggle, marry her and pamper her at home. Don’t rob hardworking people of their roles.” Ignoring Kai’s pale face, I walked away. A month later, “Misty Mist” wrapped filming. The distribution company was pleased and planned to release it during the lucrative New Year’s season. I also heard that Kai had arranged for Evelyn to get a Best Actress award. Since my family financed the film, I didn’t mind Kai adding some shine to it. Gareth’s manager suggested, “Let’s have Gareth contend for the Best Newcomer award too.” “Sure,” I agreed, “but let’s do it on merit. No buying votes.” “Got it. Even a nomination would be great for him at this point.” Believing that “character is fated to follow talent,” I was determined to guide Gareth on a steady career path. Shortly after, director Daniel Williams, an influential figure in international cinema, got impressed by Gareth through word of mouth. Known for resisting financial influence, Daniel auditioned Gareth, who landed a small part in one of his films. Even a minor role in a Daniel Williams film is an honor. While Gareth continued progressing steadily, Evelyn’s team bragged about only taking leading roles in major productions. Her next gig was in an S+ fantasy historical drama, supported by a slew of popular stars Kai paid for. When the cast was announced, Twitter blew up, labeling Evelyn a talentless resource hog. Kai had his PR team manage the backlash quickly, preventing it from escalating. Lily joked, “Evelyn lands the female lead while your Gareth plays a bit part. You’re tough on boys but spoil girls. You and Kai think alike in that way.” “”Actually, this part is perfect for Gareth. A good role, even a small one, can make a big impact,” I explained. “I prefer steady, genuine growth over artificial boosts.” Lily fully agreed, “You’re right; forced fame brings bad luck. Don’t take on a job you’re not ready for.” Little did I know, Lily’s words would come true…

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My Boyfriend pretended to be a poor college student, but he’s actually the geir to New York’s Wealthiest Family. Even after my best friend suggested for the hundred and first time that I dump my freeloader of a boyfriend, I still refused. There was no way I would ever break up with him. That was until I overheard his secretary late one evening: “Since the fish are already on the hook, it’s time for me to reel them in.” “And what about Miss Keira?” he asked. “She loves money. We’ll just write her a check and be done with it.” Hearing this, I nearly laughed out loud. Finally, I’m going to get rich. Lately, Raphael Parsons has been sneaking out a lot behind my back. He always makes a great meal for me beforehand, doting on me with sweet words. Then, once I’m asleep, he tiptoes out quietly. Little does he know, I’m not actually asleep. Because every night, I’m praying he betrays me. So, tonight, after another long evening, Raphael quietly snuck out. This was the tenth time this month, and my patience was wearing thin. I threw on a coat and followed him out, silently slipping down the staircase. Pressing my ear to the door, I overheard his conversation. “Those old guys at the company are getting impatient. It’s time to wrap this up,” Raphael said. Another man’s respectful voice replied, “And what should we do about Miss Keira?” My heart tightened. Raphael had been freeloading off me for so long, eating my food, using my money. Surely, he wouldn’t just leave without a word? Raphael’s voice was low. “She’s obsessed with money. Just write her a check and be done with it.” The man seemed taken aback. “But Miss Keira has taken care of you for a while now. Isn’t just writing a check a bit heartless?” Raphael sounded annoyed, “What else? Should I take her back as my wife? She’s just a third-rate college grad working in a third-rate company. She isn’t fit to walk through the Parsons’ doors.” The man asked, “How much should the check be?” Raphael replied coldly, “Let her fill in the amount.” Hearing this, I slipped back to the room. I could hardly contain my excitement. “Let her fill in the amount.” Those were the sweetest words I’d ever heard.

Yes, it’s true. I’ve lived through this before. In my last life, I also met Raphael in the hospital, where he was pretending to have amnesia. I was charmed by his looks and took him home, feeding him, clothing him, and giving him a place to stay. Honestly, we had a blissful time together. I foolishly believed that love was everything. Raphael pretended he lost his memory during a car accident caused by a company dispute. Meanwhile, he was secretly reorganizing the entire Parsons Group. When the Parsons family came to fetch Raphael, around ten Rolls-Royces drove into my soon-to-be-demolished neighborhood. The entire area gathered to watch. Raphael donned a tailored suit and Rolex, handed me a $500,000 check as thanks, and said goodbye. Back then, I was all about Raphael and refused the check, wanting only to be with him forever. Raphael’s look of disdain still haunts me. He broke up with me, and I couldn’t take it. I exposed our relationship to the media, revealing his deceit. This scandal gave him a terrible reputation and caused uproar within the Parsons Group, destabilizing it again just after they had ended a power struggle. Under pressure, Raphael publicly proposed to me. On our wedding night, I saw news of him and a famous model at a hotel. Soon after, he tormented me daily, disgusted by my mere presence. He even purchased the media outlet I had exposed him to and outed me as the source. I became the villain, and the harassment drove me to depression, eventually leading to my suicide.

When I woke up, I found myself back in the hospital, where I first met Raphael. Seeing him pretending to be pitiful, I rolled my eyes. This time, I’m getting my $500,000. Forget revenge – I just want the money. Just as before, Raphael claimed he had amnesia and was head over heels for me. His chiseled face seemed to scream “$500,000.” I brought him home again. Everything proceeded just as it had in my past life. We got together, and I was even more attentive to him this time around. He was tired? I massaged his shoulders. Hungry? I cooked for him. Needed money? I transferred it to him. Even if he wanted to sleep with me? No problem. My longtime best friend, Maia, berated me for being blinded by love. Our neighbor wished his wife treated him as well as I treated Raphael. Our relationship blossomed, and Raphael even started cooking and caring for me. He’d often bring me lunch at work, making my coworkers envious of my attentive boyfriend. Ha – attentive? More like a dog. With Raphael freeloading off me and me focusing on making money, my career soared, and I got three promotions. But those small sums meant nothing. I wanted my $500,000. My phone buzzed. It was Maia’s hundred and first message telling me to break up with Raphael. “Keira, you need to dump that freeloader, or we’re done. Remember our dreams of getting rich?” In my past life, I refused because I loved Raphael. This time, I refused again but for the sake of riches. “Maia, I love Raphael, but it won’t interfere with our dreams. Get ready to pack up and get your passport. We’re flying high soon.” I sent the message just as I heard a sound outside. Raphael was back. Quickly, I put my phone down and pretended to be asleep. He slipped into bed, wrapped his arm around my waist, and fell asleep. As he slept soundly, I lay awake, too excited about the “write any amount” to sleep. Finally, my days of serving him were coming to an end. I was ready to sing songs of freedom.

After another month passed, I wondered why Raphael hadn’t returned as he had in my past life. One evening, I came home to flowers, balloons, candles, food, and music. “Keira, today marks our one-year anniversary,” Raphael said, dressed to the nines. Confused, I blinked. Seeing my lack of response, Raphael waved his hand in front of my face. “Keira, Keira, what are you thinking about?” I coughed. “Thinking of you, my dear. Wondering how much effort you put into surprising me. I’m so moved.” I feigned gratitude and snuggled into Raphael’s arms, kissing his chin. He held me tightly, rubbing his chin on my head. “It’s all for you,” he said. Fighting the urge to laugh, I remembered his past words about my “third-rate” status. “Will you ever leave me? I mean, I’m just a third-rate college grad working a third-rate job.” “Of course not!” he replied with conviction. Oh, the irony. “Really? Will you marry me then?” I asked, testing him. He faltered. Ha, caught him. “Of course I will,” he finally said. I didn’t expect him to agree, though his loathing of me was hard to miss. If only his acting skills were put to better use. Seeing him bring out a fancy velvet box, my eyes gleamed. Time to cash in. He handed it over, and I opened it, expecting a treasure. Instead, it was a red string. Disappointed, I asked, “What’s this?” “It’s a charm for your safety,” he said, oblivious to my internal stream of curses. “Really? I love it,” I lied, pecking him on the cheek. He kissed me back passionately, but my mind was on the check. The next morning, I woke to chatter. Raphael was already gone. Sore, I dragged myself to the window and saw a line of Rolls-Royces. Finally, it’s happening. I rushed downstairs barefoot. Out front, Raphael donned a sleek black suit, his gold-rimmed glasses, and a diamond-studded Rolex. Security surrounded him, bowing respectfully. The whole neighborhood was abuzz. Tears of joy welled up. I’d been waiting for this. Feigning shock, I yelled, “Who are you, and where are you taking my boyfriend?” A man in a suit pried me off Raphael. “Miss Keira, please. This is Mr. Parsons, heir to the Parsons Group. Here’s a check. Write any amount to thank you for caring for him.” I recognized the voice from that night. I trembled, tears streaming. Playing the part, I clung to Raphael. “Raphael, are you leaving me?”

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Mom was a quick traveler, moving from world to world with a mission and a system, wining over the hearts of the “male leads” and earning rewards. Usually, after completing a mission in one world, she would head to the next. But after winning over Dad, she chose to stay here forever. Our little family of three lived happily. But then, Dad fell for his secretary. Mom told Dad, “If you go see her again, I’m leaving.” Dad replied, “Where will you go? You have no family here.” But when Mom really left, Dad went crazy. I pushed open the bedroom door. Mom was lying quietly on the bed, as if she were asleep. I walked over and called softly, “Mom.” But she didn’t open her eyes and pull me into her embrace like she usually did. I placed my hand under her nose, but there was no breath. I knew then that my mom was gone.

Mom had told me she was a mission player. Because she successfully completed her task, she chose to stay in this world forever. She said this with a smiling face. Back then, I didn’t understand what “mission” meant, so I asked, “Mom, what’s your mission?” Mom held my small hand and said, “It’s to win over your dad, make him fall in love with me, and then have you! So, Candy, you’re Mom’s greatest gift.” She kissed my cheek gently and said she never regretted it. But later, Mom never smiled like that again. Because Dad fell for his secretary. People said that Dad would soon leave Mom and me. I angrily drove them away and hugged Mom. I thought, even if Dad didn’t want Mom, it’s okay. Mom still had me. Because she was my mom, so she would always stay with me.

Usually, Mom helped me change out of my pajamas, put on my clothes, and then took me to brush my teeth. She joked that at ten years old, I still needed her help; other kids would laugh at me. I would pout and say, “They’d just be jealous my mom takes such good care of me.” But now that Mom’s gone, I had to dress myself. When I got to the dining table, our nanny, May had breakfast ready. May asked me, “Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s still sleeping.” May was the nanny Mom hired for me, paying ten years’ salary in one go, to take care of me. Before, we didn’t have a nanny. Mom took care of everything at home. She was like Superwoman. After finishing chores and putting me to bed, she would study law books in the study for an hour each night to prepare for the bar exam. Dad didn’t understand and said, “Why do you tire yourself out? I support you, wouldn’t it be nice to relax?” But Mom would gently and firmly shake her head and say, “Rex, it’s my dream.” When she said that, her eyes shone brightly. I thought she looked so beautiful then, and Dad must have thought so too. He would reach out, impulsively hug her, and nuzzle into her neck like a puppy. Mom’s face would turn red and she’d push Dad away. “Candy’s right here.” I knew Dad and Mom were about to play a game they never let me join. I wanted to ask Mom to include me this time, but when Dad’s eyes landed on me, he said, “Candy, out.” I got scared and left obediently. Most times, Dad was nice to me. But I feared that look he gave me, making me agree to things without question. After that, things got better at home. Dad encouraged Mom to study for the bar and stayed up late with her. But the day before the exam, Dad took all of Mom’s documents and locked her in a room. He only let her out after the exam was over and he returned from work with me. Mom looked at Dad with fire in her eyes. “Rex, do you know I’ve prepared for a whole year for this? Do you know how important this is to me?” Ignoring her struggles, Dad held her tightly and softly said, “Evie, I’m sorry, but it’s for our family. I just want you to be home where I can hold you whenever I want. Candy feels the same way.” As he said this, he looked at me. I remembered Dad’s words from earlier that day: “If Mom becomes a lawyer, she’ll be traveling for work and forget all about you. And if she meets someone she likes, she might leave us.” Dad’s words scared me. I didn’t want Mom to leave. So, I held Mom’s hand and said, “Mom, don’t be mad at Dad. I don’t want you to leave either.” Mom looked at me, her strength fading as she slumped into Dad’s arms. After a while, her dry voice finally made its way out. “Don’t let it happen again.” Dad smiled, satisfied. Even though things turned out as I wanted, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had done something terribly wrong when I saw Mom’s now dimmer eyes.

After breakfast, I returned to my bedroom and closed the door, quietly watching my mom. At ten years old, I understood life and death. But I wasn’t scared. Mom had told me she traveled to this world at eighteen. In her original world, she lay in bed in a hospital, with tubes in her body. When she succeeded in her mission, the system gave her a choice: go back home or stay here. She wanted to go back to see her mom but couldn’t bear to leave Dad, and especially me, so she stayed. I asked her, “Mom, can you stay with me forever?” “Of course,” she said. I remembered those words for a long time. Now, I just gently touched her nose and whispered, “Mom, you liar.” Suddenly, the doorbell rang. I knew it wasn’t Dad; he hadn’t been home for a long time. Nora’s voice called out from outside, “Candy, open the door for Auntie. Auntie will take you home. I’ll be your mom.” I shouted back, “Go away! You’re not my mom, you’re a homewrecker!” After giving up on her law exam, Mom started focusing on taking care of Dad and me. We were happy. I thought we would always be happy. But then, Nora appeared. She was Dad’s newly hired secretary, always clumsy. Dad complained about her more often. I wondered why, if he found her so annoying, he didn’t just fire her. But he started coming home later and sometimes not at all. Nora even appeared in Dad’s social media posts. While shopping with Mom one day, we saw Dad with Nora. Mom dropped a vase she was holding. Dad looked over, his face instantly panicking before he pulled Nora’s wrist to chase after Mom. But Mom picked me up and ran, covering her mouth. That night, my parents fought. I hid behind the door, listening to Dad try to explain. He said he was only helping Nora because she was lonely and nothing was going on, treating her like a sister. Mom wasn’t buying it and coldly warned him, “If you see her again, I will leave.” Dad got angry, “Where would you go? You have no family here.” He knew Mom was a mission player. She gave up the chance to go back home for him and couldn’t leave this world. I remembered one time Dad made Mom mad, and she stormed out with her bag. I was frantic, begging Dad to go after her. But Dad just sat with his legs crossed, reading the paper, saying, “Where can she go?” That night, Mom came back with red eyes and bags of groceries. “Rex, I bought food for you guys.” She opened the takeout boxes—it was my favorite crab meat dumplings and Dad’s favorite chive wontons. I happily ate my dumplings while Mom quietly ate leftovers from last night. Suddenly, I lost my appetite. I thought, if Mom had a family to go back to, she would take the longest train or flight to get there. But her family was in another world; she had nowhere else to go. Dad banked on that to keep her in line.、

Outside, Nora knocked on the door for a while before falling silent. I thought she had left. But an hour later, I heard the lock being picked. The security camera showed a stranger. I got scared. Mom always said that if a stranger came when kids were home alone, they should find an adult. I couldn’t get Mom, so I ran to the kitchen to find May. “May, there’s someone outside, and I don’t know them.” May grabbed a kitchen knife, swallowing nervously. She stood by the door with me. When the lock finally clicked open, Nora stood there smiling and handed the locksmith $20. “Thank you, sir.” May said, “Miss Nora, how could you do this?” Nora replied, “Candy, your dad sent me to take you home. But you wouldn’t see me, so I had no other choice.” She reached out to grab me. I bit her hand hard and shouted, “I won’t go with you! Forget it!” Nora screamed, and I tasted blood in my mouth before I let go. She shoved me to the ground angrily and stormed out. My hand got scraped on the floor, and it started bleeding. May quickly brought the first-aid kit. As she bandaged my hand, I couldn’t help but say, “Mom, it hurts.” But my mom couldn’t hear me anymore. She used to spend time with Dad and me every day. Now she was gone, and I finally understood what missing someone felt like. I remembered when I was six, and Dad took us back to his hometown for a family gathering. The house was packed with Dad’s relatives: uncles, aunts, grandparents… so many people. But Mom and I were alone. That day, Mom cooked an entire feast by herself. Even when we sat to eat, she was still bustling in the kitchen. Uncle and Dad’s brother praised Dad, “You found an amazing and hardworking wife.” Dad smiled proudly. Mom, wiping flour off her forehead and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, smiled shyly. By the time she sat down to eat, most of the food was gone. I told her I was tired, so she quickly finished a few bites and took me upstairs. But at the staircase, she stopped and looked back. I did too, curious. Grandpa and Grandma were handing out red envelopes, uncles and Dad were talking about work, and the aunts were playing cards. They were all with family. Mom stared for a long time. I tugged at her hand and asked, “Mom, what’s wrong?” She snapped out of it and looked at me. Amidst the noise and lights, her eyes were filled with sadness. “Yaya, what do you think my mom is doing right now?” Turns out, my mom missed her mom too.

After May finished bandaging my hand, she glanced at Mom’s room and frowned. “It’s almost dark. Why isn’t Mrs. up yet?” I replied, “Mom’s really tired. Let her sleep a bit more.” May sighed, “It’s been days, and Mr. hasn’t even come to check on us.” Dad hadn’t been home in a long time. He once said he was on a business trip, but he was actually on vacation with Nora. Nora had flaunted those photos in front of Mom, telling her to divorce Dad and give up her spot. Mom’s eyes filled with tears when she saw the photos. She had wanted to visit that place for a long time and had asked Dad to take her, but he was always busy. Now he had taken Nora instead. Mom showed Dad the photos. Instantly, Dad’s face changed. He claimed they were photoshopped, saying they didn’t count. Mom’s eyes filled with sorrow. “Rex, what did you promise me when we got married? That you’d only love me and be good to me. Otherwise, why would I stay here?” Dad retorted, “Haven’t I been good to you? A million-dollar house, diamond rings, designer clothes—you asked for them, and I gave them.” Mom shook her head, whispering, “We just can’t communicate.” She threw Dad’s clothes and shoes out of the house. He, feeling humiliated, said he wouldn’t come back. And from that day, he really didn’t. Soon, Nora’s house caught fire, so she moved in with Dad. Mom didn’t cry when she heard. She just hugged me gently. “Now I understand that people’s hearts and love can change, and promises only matter when they are made,” Mom said softly. “But it’s too late to regret now.” 8 That night, I brushed my teeth by myself and used a towel to clean my small body. Then, I climbed into bed and hugged Mom. Even though her body was stiff and cold, as long as she lay there, I felt happy. I once asked, “Mom, what kind of person is your mom?” Mom never talked about her dad, and her mom was her only relative. “Mom was strict. She would hit and scold me when I didn’t do my homework,” she said. I frowned, not understanding why she would miss someone like that. Sometimes Mom had nightmares and called out for “Mom,” not Dad. Mom’s voice changed as she continued, “But when I was diagnosed with leukemia at sixteen, Mom never got angry again. She quit her job, sold the house, and took care of me every day.” “My mom loved me a lot,” she said with a mix of pride and sadness. I realized Mom never forgot her mother. When she traveled to this world at eighteen, she was still just a girl. One day, I found Mom crying secretly by the window after learning Dad was on vacation with Nora. She said she shouldn’t have let love cloud her judgment, giving up everything, including her mom, whom she could never see again. 9 Mom had asked Dad for a divorce. A month after he moved out, she invited him back home. Dad showed up in a black suit with his hair slicked back, looking more handsome than ever. That day, Mom cooked a big meal. Dad smugly said, “Changed your mind?” I sat at the table, excited, hoping they would reconcile. But Mom put down her chopsticks and said, “Rex, let’s get a divorce.” I knew what divorce meant—Dad and Mom would be separated forever, and we’d rarely be together. Dad’s expression changed instantly. “Evie, you’re making a big deal out of nothing! I won’t do anything with Nora. I still love you. Why can’t you be more understanding?” Mom said, “To me, this isn’t a small issue. You broke your promise and betrayed our love. How can I be understanding?” Dad, looking worried, angrily said, “If we divorce, where will you go? Who do you know here besides Candy and me?” Mom, choking up, replied, “If I don’t know anyone, I’ll meet new people. If I run out of money, I’ll wash dishes and mop floors. I can take care of Candy by myself.” Dad sneered, “Go ahead and try.” He turned and left in a hurry. In the following days, Mom sent out many job applications, but they were all rejected. She kept applying, hundreds, thousands of times. Until a kind person told her: “Miss Bailey, Mr. Rex has made it known that no one should hire you.” Soon, a lawyer came with documents for Mom. “What’s this?” Mom asked. “It’s a comparison of you and Mr. Rex’s assets,” the lawyer explained. “If you go to court for custody, unfortunately, you won’t have much chance.” Mom turned pale. I clung to her shirt, petrified. Shortly afterward, Dad’s relatives showed up, surrounding Mom with interrogation-like questions. “With Rex’s great conditions, you still want to divorce? You won’t get a better chance.” “Ungrateful. What does Rex even see in her?” Mom, coldly, said, “Stop trying to convince me. I’m divorcing him.” One softened their tone, “Evie, think about the child. How upset she’d be if she knew her parents were divorcing.” Mom looked momentarily moved. The group quickly said: “Yes, the child needs a healthy childhood.” “Everything for the kid. What’s so hard to bear?” Someone pushed me towards Mom, smiling, “Candy, do you want your parents to divorce? If they do, you’ll be without a mom.” Tears welled in my eyes. I hugged Mom tightly, scared, “Mom, please don’t leave Dad. Candy can’t bear losing you.” Mom, eyes filled with unshed tears, said softly, “Alright.” Her voice was like a sigh. Mom gave up. I thought this meant she’d stay forever. But little did I know some birds can’t be caged—their very feathers shine with freedom.

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After Edward’s undercover work ended, it felt like he had become a different person. He would often stare blankly out of the window, with sadness and melancholy in his eyes. He no longer lifted our daughter up and twirled her around, calling her “baby.” He stopped bringing flowers home after work, and he even avoided my affectionate gestures. Later, on the day our daughter Doris was hit by a car, I saw him tenderly kissing another woman in the rain. I was in a meeting when I received the news about Doris’s accident. When I heard the words “died on the spot,” I froze. I rushed to the funeral home like a madwoman, finding Doris’s contorted body lying on a cold table. The yellow dress I personally put on her that morning became her burial clothing. Chaos surrounded me—some people tried to console me, others were interrogating, and the truck driver was hurriedly explaining, “It was your daughter who ran the red light. It’s not my fault!” I collapsed to the ground, desperately yelling, “How could she run a red light? Where is her father? Where is her father?” “Mrs. Jane, your daughter was alone when she got off the bus. We didn’t see any accompanying adult,” a police officer told me. I had always taken Doris to her piano lessons, but this one time, she asked for her daddy to take her. Ever since Edward came back from his year-long assignment, his attitude towards us had become cold and distant. He liked to be alone, avoided eye contact with me, often made excuses to sit in the car and smoke, and even got irritated with Doris’s playful requests. Our beloved daughter couldn’t understand why her dad had changed. Innocently, she just wanted to mend their relationship. I agreed, sending the two of them off before heading to my meeting. I never imagined that this one time would cost Doris her life. I called Edward repeatedly, only to be met with busy signals. My own parents were far away, and with my mother-in-law gravely ill, I was left to face this devastating blow alone. Finally, under my signature, Doris was reduced to a small box of ashes. Holding her ashes, I walked back to the neighborhood like a zombie, only to find Edward. He was in the rain, gently lifting the face of another woman and kissing her deeply. The woman was petite, nestled softly in Edward’s arms. They kissed for so long that even I, as an onlooker, had not noticed. Doris’s tragic demise flashed through my mind, juxtaposed with the scene before me. It was almost laughable. At this moment, I didn’t know whether to feel anger or sorrow. I didn’t even have the energy to question or rage; I just stood there, empty-headed. I should have seen it coming. Given Edward’s unique job, I had always known I’d have to manage the household independently when I married him. For seven years, I worked during the day and tended to my ailing mother-in-law at night. I single-handedly set up our new home, carrying tiles up six flights of stairs to save a few hundred dollars. When I got pregnant, I fainted from vomiting in the bathroom and lay there for seven or eight hours before anyone discovered me. I attended prenatal appointments alone, feeling out of place among couples. My water broke in the middle of the night, but I took a cab to the hospital by myself and signed the necessary papers alone. When I was sad, he wasn’t there. When I was happy, he still wasn’t. I was like a lone ranger; many asked where my husband was, but due to confidentiality, I would brush them off, making me seem like a pitiful widow.

I always believed my sacrifices were worth it because he loved his job, and I loved him. We had happy times too. When he wasn’t busy, he’d travel two hours just to get a cake for me. He’d come home with a bouquet of roses, stay up all night to care for the newborn Doris, change diapers, feed her, and do household chores. He loved holding my face, pressing his forehead against mine, and saying, “Jane, thank you. Without you, we wouldn’t have this family. I will always love you.” Then he went on that year-long assignment. I didn’t know what he was doing, but once, I ran into him selling seafood at a market. I pretended we were strangers and walked past him. After that, we had no contact for a year. When he returned, he was like a different person. He could go the whole day without speaking a word and showed no concern for our household. It was like a stranger sleeping next to me. I tried to mend our relationship, but Edward found excuses to avoid me. He eventually looked at me with a strange expression and sarcastically said, “I never realized before how much you crave intimacy.” Now, I finally understood our problem. I stood there for a long time before the woman noticed me. She seemed flustered, pushing Edward away and nervously shrinking into his arms. Edward’s face showed a rare hint of panic. He instinctively shielded the woman before quickly calming down and said, “Jane, she’s innocent. Don’t take your anger out on her. I’ll come home and explain.” “No need.” I coldly looked at the man I once loved deeply and asked, “I asked you to take Doris to her piano lesson. Where did you go?” “I got a work call and couldn’t leave. I watched her get on the bus. It was only a couple of blocks after getting off. She’s four; she knows the way.” Edward explained. Grief made me double over, barely able to stand. Tears mixed with rainwater streamed down my face. Doris was only four years old. He let a four-year-old girl take a half-hour bus ride alone and then walk another kilometer to her lesson. He knew better than anyone how dangerous the world could be, yet he neglected his own daughter. “Is this ‘work’ you mentioned just making out with her?” I raised my voice, pointing at the girl in his arms. She looked young, possibly still in college, and she bit her lip nervously, trembling. Edward instinctively comforted her before looking at me with impatience. “Jane, stop scaring her. Try to understand the demands of my job, you used to be reasonable…” I couldn’t hold it in any longer and slapped him hard. The girl screamed and reached out to touch Edward’s cheek, her face full of concern. “We’re getting a divorce.” With that, I walked away without looking back. Two hours later, Edward came back. Seeing that I had packed up most of the house, he frowned deeply. “I’m exhausted. Can you stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum?” “You think this is a tantrum?” I was too tired to argue, just staring coldly at him.

“Edward, do you even care about this family? If you did, Doris wouldn’t have…” “Michelle started out as just a friend,” Edward interrupted me roughly. He was silent for a long time before slowly beginning to talk about the other woman. “This past year, she’s been there for me, doing everything for me.” As he spoke, his expression softened. Edward described Michelle as a foolish girl who knew he had a family but still loved him steadfastly. He said she had a hero complex and had risked her life to save him several times. He said she was carefree, liked to wear short skirts, and frequently had wardrobe malfunctions, but she would complain that he was too controlling. He talked about their countless nights huddled together for warmth, holding hands and leaning against each other, feeling like he was ten years younger. In the end, he said, “I know our relationship has gone beyond friendship. Give me time, and I’ll forget her and live properly with you.” Edward closed his eyes, looking pained. “She’s young and naive, but I can’t be. I’ve already wasted a year of her life. I can’t keep holding her back.” I could barely breathe. Edward knew what he was saying. He was telling his wife about his romance with another woman. It felt like I was the third party, forcing him to abandon his true love for family duty. Edward remembered her sacrifices for him, but what about mine? Did my seven years of love and dedication mean nothing? After a long pause, I regained my composure. “I’ll give you freedom instead.” I grabbed my suitcase and pushed past him, heading downstairs. Edward grabbed my hand, his eyes pleading. “Jane, I promise, today was my last meeting with her. I still love you. I want to give Doris a complete family…” “Don’t mention Doris!” I lost control, hurling my bag at him. Sharp decorations cut his face and neck, causing blood to flow. He stood there, stunned. I didn’t look back and left. I rented an apartment near my office, contacted a lawyer, and started packing up, arranging my daughter’s funeral. While I was busy, the hospital called. “Jane, your mother-in-law Alice has taken a turn for the worse. Please come quickly…” I grabbed my bag and rushed out. Alice had terminal cancer. After marrying Edward, I had taken it upon myself to care for her. I did everything except bear the pain of her illness. Over seven years, I spent at least four nights a week at the hospital. Only these past few days, overwhelmed by Doris’s situation, did I forget about Alice in the hospital. Rushing in, I didn’t expect to find Michelle chatting happily with Alice. She wasn’t wearing the short skirts Edward mentioned but was dressed modestly in long sleeves and pants, looking clean and respectable. Anyone would find her likable. Alice and Michelle seemed very close, talking like mother and daughter. “Alice…” I croaked. Alice quickly waved me over to introduce me. “Jane, this is Edward’s coworker’s sister. Did he mention her?” Michelle looked nervous when she saw me, standing up from her chair. She stammered, “We’ve met…” Not responding, I watched Michelle’s eyes redden as she lowered her head and ran out, bumping into Edward coming in. She seemed relieved, grabbing his sleeve and hiding behind him, looking at me. Edward held a medical report, frowning at me. “Jane, you can be mad at me, but my mom did nothing to you. Is this how you’ve been taking care of her?” He threw the report at me, words like “critical condition” and “organ failure” glaring back at me. Before I could respond, Alice shouted, “Shut up!” “If not for Jane, I’d have died in the hospital long ago. You, who I barely see twice a year, have no right to say anything about Jane!”

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I’ve been in a relationship with a younger guy for three years now. This morning, I woke up and, like always, tried to kiss him and say good morning. But he moved away instinctively, looking somewhat disgusted. He’s just turned 21, still in college, and already he’s pushing me away. He got up, grabbed his phone, and went straight to the bathroom. Moments later, I could hear sounds of him pleasuring himself. My heart shattered. I sat there on the bed, stunned, listening to him in the bathroom. Watching as Adam picked out his clothes, sprayed on some cologne, checked himself out in the mirror, and then hurried off to school. Not once did he look at me. I picked up Adam’s iPad from the nightstand and glanced through his chat history with a lingerie store salesperson. Salesperson: It’s been a while since you last shopped with us. We have some new items in stock. Adam: Not interested anymore. I’m not into her at all now. I’m just 21, and she’s already 35, nearly 36. Her wrinkles gross me out, I can’t get it up. Salesperson: … Salesperson: Really? You used to buy from us frequently. You said you loved your girlfriend. Adam: I felt something for her because she was easygoing and took care of me. She always made up first when we argued. Now, it’s just pointless. Being with her doesn’t feel like a relationship. When I find someone young and cute, I’ll shop with you again. I scratched my head and laughed at myself. I’d seen this chat last night, but I still tried to test him. He’s fallen out of love with me. He’s repulsed by my aging. His ideal girl is probably the one whose photos he looks at before heading to the bathroom. I fell back onto the bed, surprised that I didn’t shed a tear. For a woman my age, crying and breaking down just isn’t dignified.

I got up and started my morning routine. By noon, I began to receive birthday emails from various brand websites where I’m subscribed. That’s when I remembered—it’s my birthday today. I stared blankly at the withered roses on the coffee table, recalling how three years ago today, it was 18-year-old Adam who first confessed his love to me. Back then, Adam had just started college and was being bullied while working part-time at my company. I helped him out. He looked at me with idolizing eyes, following me everywhere. I found it annoying and ended up having him help me with work directly. The Adam of that time was innocent and sincere. He would steal glances at me, and when I looked back, he’d quickly turn away, his ears slowly turning red. When other boys in the part-time job tried to win me over, Adam would get anxious, sticking close to me like a wolf guarding its territory. Occasionally, when our bodies accidentally brushed, he’d blush shyly. On my 32nd birthday, he showed up with a huge bouquet of my favorite roses and a birthday cake. The bashful yet determined look in his eyes, he said he loved me. I told him we had a big age gap and needed to think about it. Adam was filled with unease for those few days. When I finally said yes, he shouted in excitement. He hugged me tightly, his deep voice in my ear, “Every birthday of yours from now on will be our anniversary, and I’ll always be there.” My phone kept buzzing with birthday wishes from family, friends, and even colleagues. But not a single message from Adam. I got up and threw the wilted flowers from the vase into the trash. Things that have gone bad shouldn’t be kept. That applies to both flowers and people.

I got ready and went to work. Everything changes, but the effort I put into my work and my bank balance remain constant. Late that night, my assistant handed me a box. “Serena, I almost forgot! Here’s that Apple phone you wanted me to get.” She checked her watch and smiled, “It’s still 11:55, so we made it. Happy birthday, Serena!” I smiled back and took the box, a bitter smile tugging at my lips. Still, no word from Adam. To him, today was just another day. This phone wasn’t meant as my birthday gift. It was supposed to be for our third anniversary. Before leaving work, I texted Adam. “Come home early after school tomorrow. I want to talk to you.” “Anything you want for dinner?” After a while, he replied, “Whatever.”

I sat in the car all night, staring at Adam’s “Whatever” text. Scrolling up, I saw just how many more messages I sent compared to him, including all the money I transferred to him. Most of my messages were about what he wanted to eat, where he wanted to go, or me sharing news about my day. Adam either responded with “Whatever” or not at all. Scrolling further up, I saw that for the past six months, almost every conversation was one-sided, with me talking and him barely responding. I sighed softly. His indifference to me was painfully clear. I watched as the night turned into sunrise. Once Adam left for school, I returned to our apartment near his campus, where we lived together after we started dating. Clothes were strewn carelessly on the sofa. I threw them into the washing machine and then started preparing dinner. Lost in thought, I accidentally cut my finger. Blood quickly pooled on the floor. When Adam came home, I was holding a tissue tightly around my finger. He didn’t look at me, only glanced at the table and frowned. He sat down without a second thought, picking through the food disdainfully. To him, maybe I was like the meal, becoming tiresome. “Adam…” Adam responded with a distracted “Yeah,” while still texting on his phone, a pleased smile on his face. “I need to go out,” I said, feeling a mixture of anger and sadness as I looked at my bleeding finger, tears beginning to well up. “Adam…” All I wanted was for him to look at me. But all I got was another careless “Yeah.” I sniffed, wiping my eyes before heading to the pharmacy downstairs. The young girl there looked alarmed. “The cut’s deep. Let me wrap it up, but you really should see a doctor.” I shook my head and left. Back at home, as I pushed open the door, a sickly sweet “Adam, you’re amazing” echoed in the living room. Adam quickly paused the voice message, awkwardly looking up. “Where’s my blue shirt? I want to wear it tomorrow.” He then continued eating as if nothing happened. In the mirror at the entrance, I saw my swollen eyes and pale face. Tears threatened to spill, a wave of sadness washing over me. Taking a deep breath, I composed myself and sat down across from Adam. “Yesterday was our three-year anniversary. Do you want a gift?” His phone kept buzzing with messages from “sweet pie,” probably the young girl he fancied. Adam flipped his phone face-down, irritation in his voice, “I don’t know. Nothing, I guess.” I took out the phone box. “I got you something. The latest Apple phone you’ve been wanting.” Adam’s eyes lit up, but just as he reached for it, my phone rang. In the silent room, my mom’s voice was loud and clear. “You’re almost 40. I’ve introduced you to some good prospects. If you don’t plan on marrying, what is it you want? You keep saying you have a boyfriend, but I’ve never even seen him!” Instinctively, I looked at Adam. He lowered his eyes, looking guilty. After a few curt responses, I hung up the call. Adam had pushed the phone box back to me, looking resigned. Taking the box, I smiled. “If you don’t want it, forget it. Are you full? This dinner was for our anniversary, and it’s also our last meal together.” Looking into his eyes, I said calmly, “Adam, let’s break up.”

Adam froze, then sighed in relief. “Okay.” His answer was firm, almost like he feared I’d change my mind. He looked me in the eyes, guilt mixed in his voice: “I’m not in love with you anymore. I never planned on marrying you.” “You can think I’m an asshole, but it’s the truth.” “Sorry.” I lowered my gaze, not wanting to look at him. When we first got together, I had asked Adam, “I’m 14 years older than you. I’ll get old quickly, and you won’t love me then.” Back then, Adam would smile and pull me into his arms, kissing my forehead. “They say loved women don’t age. I’ll tell you I love you a thousand times a day, and you’ll never get old.” That day on, Adam always said he loved me. Once he stopped saying it daily, I knew I’d grown old in his eyes. The same Adam who used to say “I love you” all the time now easily says he doesn’t love me, for the sake of a breakup. I found it almost funny. Calmly, I nodded, “It’s over.” Adam looked surprised at my calmness.

Our breakup was oddly peaceful. Adam awkwardly grabbed a suitcase, planning to pack his things, but soon walked out empty-handed. From the couch, where I sat, I almost laughed. Most of the stuff here was bought by me for him. What did he have to pack? He shot me a quick glance, murmured, “I’m leaving,” and bolted out of the apartment like he was finally free. The room was filled with traces of Adam, from the gaming computer to the socks in the drawer. There were debate scripts I helped him write when he participated in school competitions, and PowerPoint slides I stayed up all night to make for his student council. Even the clothes I bought for him. I remembered the time he forgot his USB drive at home, and I rushed over to his school to deliver it. He snapped at me, “Why did you come here?” He grabbed the USB and walked off, while his friends chuckled and one waved, saying, “Bye, Nanny!” Annoyed, I grabbed some trash bags and tossed all the junk inside. After cleaning, the apartment felt empty. Exhausted, I collapsed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The ticking of the clock was deafening in the silence. I picked up my phone. Adam’s Instagram had a new update. “I am finally free. Ending the wrong to find the right.” And just moments ago, at 2 AM, he had another post: “Can’t sleep.” He must be struggling with dorm life. When he complained about noisy roommates and the hard dorm bed, I got him this apartment. Lost in thought, my phone vibrated with notifications from Adam’s secondary credit card. I froze his card immediately. With that done, fatigue washed over me. Rolling over, I fell into a deep sleep.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294577”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem

On the day of my divorce, while my mother-in-law basked in the spotlight of congratulatory messages for the ultrasound of Wesley Wick’s mistress, I took a different approach. With a cold smile, I shared Wesley’s premarital checkup report—a document that exposed the truth behind the facade. The report clearly stated: “Wesley Wick, Male, Diagnosed with Congenital Azoospermia.” “I don’t want a man who can’t have children!” Wesley and I met in college and got together after graduation. After graduation, my salary wasn’t high, barely enough to make ends meet, so we had to rent a shabby, unfinished apartment. Wesley and I worked at the same company. After work, he would drive me home, and during holidays, he would give me little gifts. If nothing else, he would at least take me out for hamburgers. I grew up in the shadows of neglect, my parents absent and my childhood devoid of wealth or stability. The only beacon in my turbulent life was my grandmother As a child, others would say I was a wild child that Grandma picked up. I never believed them. After Grandma passed away, I had no home, so I envied those who did. Because I lacked love growing up, I became increasingly dependent on Wesley. When we were dating, he was gentle and considerate, always taking care of my feelings, never looking down on my family or background. I was young and mistook his cheap kindness for love. When he proposed, he promised to give me a happy and fulfilling family. I was overjoyed and married him.Once we were engaged, Wesley’s relatives made their opinions known, snickering behind my back. They called me a wild chicken trying to be a phoenix, hinting at my questionable origins and even suggesting I might be carrying some mysterious illness. They insisted on a premarital medical checkup. I took a deep breath and pushed aside my pride, swallowing the sting of their words for Wesley’s sake. When the results came out, it turned out that Wesley had congenital azoospermia, meaning we wouldn’t be able to have children, and there was no cure for it. I cherished our relationship and loved him deeply, so I chose to keep it a secret to protect his feelings. I wanted to live a good life with him, and I thought that as long as we loved each other, it didn’t matter if we couldn’t have children; we could always adopt one if we wanted. That was my thinking, but others didn’t see it that way. After we got married, my mother-in-law made my life difficult in every possible way. She started by insisting that I quit my job to have a child and be a stay-at-home wife. At first, I refused, but Wesley persuaded me, promising that he would earn money to support us while I stayed at home, beautiful and carefree. I believed his sweet words, quit my job, and became a full-time housewife. But what awaited me after marriage was endless grievances and heartache. Every morning, I woke up to cook, and after cooking, I would wash clothes, mop the floor, and wash the dishes after eating. After cleaning up, just as I was about to rest, my mother-in-law would throw a pile of underwear at me. This wasn’t the first time she had asked me to wash her undergarments. With a weary sigh, I looked at her and said, “Mom, undergarments and other personal clothing are meant to be washed by the wearer. It’s not my place to handle such private matters.” She was busy texting someone to come over and play mahjong and looked up at me with a glare: “If I tell you to wash it, then wash it. Where do you get so much nonsense?” I refused. I threw the basin into the bathroom and went back to my room to change the bed sheets. My mother-in-law started cursing loudly in the living room, “So now you think you’re tough? Did we marry you to treat you like a queen? Look in the mirror; do you really think you’re goddess? Get out here and wash those clothes, or I’ll call my son to teach you a lesson!” I couldn’t take it anymore. “I married into your family, but I wasn’t sold to you. I didn’t take a penny of dowry when I married. If you want a maid, hire one!” I slammed the door and cried on the bed. My mother-in-law called Wesley, playing the victim. When he came home, he dragged me out of bed, “Diana, apologize to Mom!” Every time we argued, he always sided with his mother! “Why should I apologize? What did I do wrong? She bullies me, and you want me to apologize?” I wiped away my tears and turned away from him. My mother-in-law also came into the room, her words biting, “I told you not to marry her, and look, it hasn’t been long, and she’s already trying to dominate me.” Wesley pushed her out of the room, “Alright, Mom, enough. I’ll talk to her.” He handed me a tissue to wipe my tears, “Diana, Mom is old, and she has a heart condition. You’re so magnanimous, you should be more accommodating, right? Just go and make peace with her.” He knew I was soft-hearted and wouldn’t hold a grudge against his mother, so he coaxed me into apologizing. But little did he know, the more I let it slide, the more she bullied me!

One night, my period came, and I stained the bed and my pajamas. I got up, took off my pajamas, and left them in the bathroom, thinking I’d wash them the next day since it was so late. The next morning, I was woken up by my mother-in-law yelling. She didn’t even knock before barging in and throwing the bed sheets at me. “Get up and wash this! Isn’t it disgusting?” I was in pain, “Mom, my stomach hurts. Let me rest for a bit, and I’ll wash it later.” She went berserk and dragged me out of bed: “How dare you say your stomach hurts? It’s been so long, and you still haven’t gotten pregnant!” The blanket was yanked off, and I was left with nothing to wear. I covered my chest and picked up the blanket, feeling like my dignity had been trampled on. My tone grew cold: “I’m going to get dressed and wash the sheets. Please leave.” Luckily, her phone rang, saving us from a full-blown argument. My mother-in-law had arranged another mahjong game with her relatives. As I hung clothes on the balcony, I overheard her relatives gossiping inside. “Your daughter-in-law still hasn’t gotten pregnant?” “Who knows? No sign of it yet.” “Could she be infertile?” “Exactly! My daughter got pregnant right after getting married, and now the baby’s already over a year old.” “Maybe you should try some folk remedies?” My mother-in-law glanced at me with a sneer: “I bet she’s just a chicken that can’t lay eggs.” What kind of mother-in-law would joke about her daughter-in-law like this? I couldn’t stand listening any longer. I called Wesley several times, but he didn’t pick up. When he got home, his mother immediately pulled him aside to whisper. When he came back to our room, I wanted to talk to him, but he was busy texting on his phone. I tried to grab his phone, and he snapped at me, “Stop making trouble! I’m busy with work!” I was taken aback, “What work do you have to do at home?” “If I don’t work, what will you eat and drink? All the money in this house comes from my hard work. All you do is spend money. You can’t even take care of my mom!” I couldn’t believe what he was saying: “What money have I spent? Apart from groceries and living expenses, what have I used? Your mom bullies me every day, and you say I haven’t taken care of her?” “I’m tired. I don’t want to argue!” He turned away to sleep. I cried silently. I couldn’t sleep the whole night.

After that, I stopped complaining to Wesley about his mother. There was no point; he would never take my side. I endured for over six months just to keep a semblance of a home. But Wesley’s frequent late returns from work made me suspicious. He would always come home and immediately grab his phone, sometimes with a doting smile, which he would quickly hide if I noticed. One day, I followed Wesley in a taxi. He went to a high-end residential area where I couldn’t get in, so I waited downstairs. After a while, Wesley came out with a woman whose belly was slightly swollen. They got into a car, and I hurriedly followed them to a hospital. When they got out, I saw the woman’s face clearly. It was his cousin, Sally Rune. I didn’t understand why she needed her cousin to accompany her for a prenatal checkup. Just as I was about to follow them into the hospital, my phone rang. It was the police station. “Hello, is this Diana Helm?” “Yes, this is she. How can I help you?” “Well, earlier, a blood test you had matched with a missing girl’s parents at a 99% rate. Could you come in when you have time to discuss this?” I was shocked and forgot all about Wesley and Sally. I rushed to the police station. Before Grandma passed away, she told me that we were not related by blood and that she had found me on her way back from the city after buying medicine. She was all alone, so she brought me back. Grandma also gave me a pendant that was around my neck when she found me, saying it was the proof to reunite with my biological parents. If these people were indeed my real parents, they would recognize this pendant. At the police station, I handed over the pendant and explained the situation. Soon, a luxury car pulled up, and a plump, well-dressed woman got out. When she saw the pendant, she cried and hugged me tightly, “Isabelle, I’m your mother! My dear Isabelle!” It turned out my real name was Isabelle Gade. My eyes welled up, and I hugged her tightly. Then a middle-aged man got out of the car, and I was stunned. It was Frank Gade, the CEO of the company where Wesley worked. I couldn’t believe I was the long-lost daughter of the Gade family! My mother explained that I had wandered off as a child and never returned. They had searched for me for years but never found me. Grandma and I had always lived in the countryside, where information was scarce, so it was difficult to locate me. After Grandma passed, I came to the city to finish college while working part-time. My biological parents wanted to take me home, but I told them I was married and needed to share the good news with my husband and bring him along. My mother agreed, gave me their contact information, and sent me back to the neighborhood. I walked home, excited to give Wesley a surprise. But as soon as I reached the door, I heard a conversation that tore my heart apart. “Sign this agreement immediately,” my mother-in-law’s voice came from inside. “Mom, how do I explain this to her? I’m afraid she’ll cling to me.” My mother-in-law cursed, “What are you afraid of? You’re the only male heir of the Wick family, and we’re counting on you to carry on the family line. Besides, you’ve already gotten Sally pregnant. Are you not going to give her a proper status?” That’s when I realized there was another woman crying inside. No wonder Wesley had been sneaking around lately; he was hiding an affair! And the mistress was his cousin! I clearly remembered that Wesley was infertile, so there was no way he could have gotten her pregnant. I quickly went back to the hospital, pulled up the medical records, and confirmed with the doctor that his condition was congenital and incurable. My mother-in-law called me, telling me to come home immediately because there was something to discuss. I put the medical report in my bag, feeling a mix of emotions. This was getting more and more interesting!

I entered the house, and only my mother-in-law was sitting on the sofa. I looked around, but Wesley and that mistress were nowhere to be seen. My mother-in-law threw a document at me and kept yelling, “Hurry up and sign it! The Wick family has had only one male heir for three generations. We can’t keep a hen that can’t lay eggs.” I picked up the agreement and took a glance. How heartless! I had sacrificed my career and best years to marry a man who couldn’t have children. I resigned from my job to become a full-time housewife, enduring endless humiliation just to keep the family harmonious and happy. And now, after my husband cheated on me, my mother-in-law despised me for not being able to have children and wanted to kick me out with nothing. I wiped away the tears from the corners of my eyes and started laughing. My mother-in-law was startled, “What… what are you laughing at?” I looked at Wesley’s signature on the divorce agreement, noticing how hastily he had signed it. I stared coldly at her, “What am I laughing at? I’m laughing at the fact that I didn’t go downstairs to buy some firecrackers to celebrate leaving your family. When he proposed, he swore he would love me forever, protect me, and give me a happy life. And now he’s treating me so cruelly!” My mother-in-law was furious, pointing her finger at me, “Say that again!” I swatted her hand away, “You’re not my mother, and I won’t tolerate you any longer. Do you want me to sign this or not?” She didn’t say another word and put her hand down, probably afraid that I wouldn’t sign it. I signed the divorce agreement, then looked up at her and said, “Tell Wesley to come back so we can go finalize the divorce right now.” She hadn’t expected me to agree so quickly. For the first time, she spoke to me with a somewhat decent attitude. “Alright, alright! A wise person knows when to give in. I’ll call him right now.” How ironic. A while later, Wesley called me to come downstairs. I took the agreement and went down. As soon as I opened the car door, I saw Sally sitting in the front passenger seat. “Wesley, what’s the meaning of this? You’re bringing her along to disgust me during our divorce?” I asked coldly. “Sally is pregnant and needs someone to take care of her. She gets nauseous in the back seat, so you should sit in the back,” he replied, not daring to look me in the eye. It was laughable. If he hadn’t mentioned the pregnancy, it might have been better. He still didn’t know about his congenital azoospermia. He thought he was cheating on me, but in reality, she was cheating on him. This was karma! It’s true that justice eventually catches up with everyone. Sally began to speak, “Please don’t be upset. Wesley and I are truly in love. I’m sorry.” Unbelievable. I hadn’t even started crying, and Sally was already playing the victim! “I can’t accept your apology. Your face isn’t thick enough to carry the weight of your actions.” Wesley squeezed her hand, “Sally, don’t apologize. The fault lies with me, not you. You’re innocent, don’t stress yourself.” Were they seriously putting on a tragic love drama in front of me? I sarcastically commented, “How many months along are you? Are you sure the baby is Wesley’s?” Sally visibly hesitated for a moment, “Of… of course it’s Wesley’s. Just because you can’t have children doesn’t mean you should question the child I’m carrying.” Wesley frowned and looked at me through the rearview mirror, “Diana, you’ve had trouble conceiving, and Mom is anxious to have a grandchild. If you’re angry, take it out on me, not on Sally.” So, after cheating on me, he’s now blaming me for everything? How shameless! “So, you’re saying it’s my fault that I couldn’t get pregnant? Did I force you to do something dirty with your cousin behind my back?” Sally jumped in, “Please don’t argue with Wesley. It’s all my fault. I’ve always liked him, and I’m the one who seduced him.” I wasn’t falling for her act. “So, you’re admitting you’re cheap enough to seduce someone else’s husband?” “Sally, ignore this shrew!” Wesley snapped, growing more impatient. The two of them were acting as if I was the one who had ruined their relationship. The car finally stopped in front of the civil affairs bureau. After we finalized the divorce, Wesley handed me a hundred dollars, as if he was giving me charity. “Take this for a taxi. I won’t be driving you anywhere. Let’s part on good terms.” I slapped his hand away, “Who’s parting on good terms with you? Your mother bullied me all the time, and I endured it for the sake of our relationship. She called me a hen that can’t lay eggs, and you never defended me. Now you’ve brought your mistress home, and you’re taking her with us to finalize the divorce. Do you have any shame?” His face grew darker and angrier, “If you weren’t infertile, why haven’t you gotten pregnant? Aren’t you just feeling guilty and afraid of what people will say? With your poor background, who would want you? You look so pathetic every day that just seeing you makes me sick.” Sally laughed and pulled Wesley back into the car, “Alright, Wesley, don’t bother with her anymore.” I held back my anger, called my mom to let her know I was safe, and then took a taxi home to get a good night’s sleep. The next day, I told my parents everything that had happened. My father was so furious that he slammed his hand on the table, “Linda, get the car ready! How dare he treat my daughter this way!” I stopped my father, “Dad, let me handle this myself.” Just as I finished speaking, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number. I stepped outside to take the call, and a sharp, sarcastic voice came through the line. “Diana, is that you? This is Sally Rune. I just moved in with Wesley. I don’t want to be the bad guy, so why don’t you come over and collect your things? It must be tough leaving with nothing. You could probably sell them for some cash and rent a rundown apartment in a poor neighborhood.” I was so angry I laughed. “No need. Those things were bought by Wesley, so they naturally belong to him.” “Well, since that’s the case, I’ll get straight to the point. Wesley and I are getting married soon. I hope you won’t contact him anymore. I’m sure Miss Helm wouldn’t want to be seen as someone who ruins other people’s families, right?” She hung up after saying that. Not only did she have the audacity to say such things, but she also had the nerve to block me afterward. At that moment, a few messages popped up in our family’s group chat. Wesley’s mother had posted, “Next month, my son Wesley and Sally will have their wedding. My daughter-in-law is pregnant! I’m going to be a grandmother!” Look at how happy she is. Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t leave the family group yet. I’ve got a “big gift” for her.

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After the business marriage, I found myself with a 4-and-a-half-year-old son. Before meeting him, I had resigned myself to a life of indifference—foreseeing a future where my husband would remain cold and distant, and my stepson would ignore me, painting a picture of a “tragic” existence. But the moment I saw that little cutie, his small hand tugging at my clothes and his tentative voice calling me “Mom,” I was utterly undone. In that instant, my hardened resolve crumbled. I turned to my husband, eyes filled with a desperate plea. “After the divorce,” I asked softly, “can I keep the child?” When the company ran into trouble, my father didn’t hesitate to arrange a business marriage for me with a wealthy man who already had a son. I was more than satisfied with this arrangement.. After all, as a devoted singleton, the prospect of avoiding the burdens of motherhood was a blessing. The man was a workaholic CEO, leaving little room for personal involvement, and his son was primarily cared for by a nanny. I figured I could just lay back and relax since my husband is a CEO—I wouldn’t even have to raise the kid. The wedding was a subdued affair, marked by its simplicity and the scant number of guests. As anticipated, the child was nowhere to be seen. The moment the ceremony concluded, my new husband, ever the workaholic, dashed off to his office. He left behind a brief, detached message: “The company is swamped. I won’t be home for a few days.” “Steven is already at home. You should get to know him better when you return.” Steven Zach, that’s the name of my stepson. With my parents divorced and my relationship with my father distant and strained, I left behind almost everything from the house. I took only a pendant necklace—a small, sentimental relic—before stepping into the unknown.

“Mrs. Zach, the young master is waiting for you in the living room.” Miss Flint greeted me cheerfully as soon as I entered. I couldn’t help but bristle at the thinly veiled challenge. So, he’s setting the stage for dominance right from the start? I mused with a steely resolve. Whatever trials awaited, I steeled myself to face them head-on. After all, how daunting could a child possibly be? But… Who is this adorable little cherub sitting on the sofa? So tiny! So precious! So endearing! Lost in a daze of wonder, I watched as the baby wobbled towards me. With a voice as soft as a whisper, he said, “Auntie Clara… this is… a gift from Steven… for Auntie.” He extended a pink teddy bear towards me, its softness almost overwhelming in its contrast to his tiny form. Despite being larger than him, he clutched it with all his might, determined to give it to me. “Wow! Thank you, sweetie! I love it! Your name is Steven, right? I’m your mom now, so you can call me ‘Mom,’ okay? After all, we’re a family now.” Wow! He’s absolutely irresistible—so precious, so heartwarming! I felt an overwhelming urge to scoop him up and envelop him in a hug. This charming child, who radiated pure sweetness, was clearly neglected by my inattentive husband. The injustice of it all struck me deeply. This little one, my stepson, had been left to navigate a rough world without the care he deserved. In that moment, I made a silent vow: from now on, he would be my son, cherished and protected under my watchful care. Little Steven seemed surprised by my words. His thin little body trembled, his fair little face turned red, and he nervously tugged at his shirt, carefully saying, “M-Mom?” After saying that, he shyly lowered his head, stealing glances at me. Oh my goodness! Forget the father—this precious child is mine to care for! I cleared my throat and seriously nodded. Then I turned to Miss Flint, who had been standing by, and said, “I’ll take care of the child, you can go about your business.” “Yes, Mrs. Zach.” The feeling was nothing short of exhilarating! I suppressed my bubbling joy as I scooped up the little cutie in my arms, the weight of his tiny form a comforting burden. Clutching him securely with one hand, I held the pink teddy bear. I had visited this villa a few times before the wedding, and each visit had left me awestruck. Nial Zach’s residence was nothing short of a masterpiece—a six-story marvel, boasting three elevators and two charming gardens. The grandeur of the decor was almost overwhelming, a testament to both wealth and taste. I took Steven to the room Nial had prepared for me and placed the teddy bear next to the pillow. “Steven, I’m sorry I didn’t prepare a gift for you, but this pendant necklace is very important to me. Can you help me take care of it?” “I’ll watch over it every day,” he promised. I put it on him, and he seemed very happy. “How about tonight you sleep with Mom, and tomorrow Mom will take you to preschool, okay?” I lowered my voice, speaking gently. If my best friend saw me now, tenderly cradling this little one, she might think I’d been possessed by some gentle spirit. “Okay,” he murmured softly, his voice a sweet whisper that melted my heart. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice the brief stiffness on his soft, adorable face. That night. “…And so the little fox lived happily ever after with its mommy.” As I whispered the final line of the story, I gazed down at the tiny angel who had drifted into a peaceful slumber. Just then… the phone rang suddenly. I was so startled I nearly dropped the phone and hurriedly hung up. Hearing Steven’s steady breathing, I finally breathed a sigh of relief. I quietly left the room, found a place where Steven wouldn’t hear me, and called back. “Clara Williams, you dare hang up on me?” Wendy Silver’s voice crackled with fury through the receiver. “I was with my son just now. Besides, it’s my wedding night; why are you calling at this ungodly hour?” I said, exasperated. “Yeah, right. Everyone knows your husband isn’t home—he went to work right after the wedding.” “Wait! What did you just say? Son? When did you have a son?” Wendy sounded shocked. I frowned. “He’s my husband’s son, but now he’s my son too.” It’s normal that she didn’t know; I only found out when I was informed I had to marry Nial Zach. Nial kept this child well-hidden. But now that the news is out… “And stop being so dramatic.” “But you don’t even like kids!” Wendy’s voice dripped with incredulity. “I know you’re all alone on your wedding night, so I was calling to comfort you.” Wendy said casually. How was I supposed to know the little dumpling would be so cute? Though I thought this, I didn’t say it out loud. “Alright, what’s up?” “You have to come to the reunion this Saturday. That little ‘fake sweet’ will be there too. Remember—dress to dazzle and make her fade into the background! Show them who truly shines!” Just hearing Wendy’s tone, I could almost feel the fury seething through the phone. Her voice was a sharp, barely-contained snarl, and I could vividly imagine her face twisted in a mask of pure, unbridled rage. I chuckled, attempting to soothe her simmering anger. “Alright, alright, it’s been years; I’ve long forgotten about all that.” Wendy huffed, her frustration palpable even through the phone. After a few more terse exchanges, we finally ended the call. I stood by the fifth-floor window, gazing out at the sprawling city below, my mind lost in a daze. Suddenly, I remembered that summer after high school graduation. 3 In high school, Wendy Silver, Sarah Payne, and I were particularly close. After the college entrance exams, at a group dinner, the school heartthrob suddenly confessed to me. Everyone was watching and making a fuss, and I got so annoyed that I outright rejected him. But what I didn’t know was that Sarah had been secretly pursuing him for a long time. Because I rejected him, the heartthrob, out of spite, turned around and got together with Sarah. People said she only got with him because of me. And just like that, our relationship deteriorated. I thought we wouldn’t see each other after going to college. But to my surprise, even though we weren’t at the same university, she still spread rumors about me, trying to make me miserable. But she and the heartthrob didn’t last long; he soon cheated on her. I heard she’ll be at the reunion this Saturday too. “Ahh! So annoying!” I ruffled my hair in frustration. But then again… It’s been so long; maybe she’s forgotten. With that thought, I relaxed. The next few days, I stayed home with Steven. Apart from dropping him off and picking him up, I spent my time designing. I’m a renowned fashion designer, and surrendering my career for marriage? That would be a betrayal to my very soul. The vibrant threads of my creativity weave through my life’s fabric, and to abandon it now would be nothing short of an artistic death. Lately, the little cutie has been a wellspring of inspiration, igniting my creativity like never before. Not designing would be a disservice to my identity! 4 That Saturday morning, a serene smile graced my lips as I watched Steven, lost in his world of building blocks. His innocence was a balm for my soul. Yet, the thought of the faces I would encounter that afternoon brought a heavy sigh to my lips, I couldn’t help but sigh. Why am I heading to a class reunion instead of a parent-teacher conference? Steven’s innocent gaze, filled with concern, cut through my brooding thoughts. “Mom, are you unhappy?” I gently rubbed Steven’s chubby little face, “Mom has a reunion to attend this afternoon. Can you stay home by yourself?” After spending the past few days together, Steven had grown closer to me. “Can I come too? I’ll be very good.” Thinking of who would be at the reunion, I declined. His bright eyes dimmed immediately. “Alright, I’ll wait for Mom at home.” A wave of guilt crashed over me. How could I leave him alone when I knew the kind of neglect he faced from his father? Bringing him along shouldn’t be a problem. After all, I could keep an eye on him. It felt like a betrayal to leave him home alone, especially when his father seemed to ignore his needs so often. “You can come. How about Steven keeps Mom company?” “Okay~” The instant I saw his eyes light up with pure joy, I breathed a sigh of relief. Yet, an unsettling feeling crept over me—why did it seem like I had just been outsmarted? The reunion was in full swing by the time we arrived. As soon as we stepped into the private room,, it had already started. “Isn’t this Clara? Why are you so late? Come on, we’ve been waiting for you.” As soon as I entered, I was noticed. So much for quietly sitting in a corner. I smiled and greeted them, seeing Wendy wave at me excitedly. I held Steven and walked over. This caught everyone’s attention. “Clara, who is this…?” After sitting down, I placed Steven on my lap. Seeing the bottles and cans of alcohol on the table, I frowned. “He’s my son.” Then I looked at the waiter and asked softly, “Do you have any drinks suitable for children?” “Yes, we do.” After settling Steven comfortably in my lap, I shot a sharp glance at Wendy. “Stop staring like that; you’ll scare my son,” Wendy chuckled, “Your son is so cute! Does he need a godmother?” She said mischievously. “Get lost.” I looked at her disdainfully. We ate and chatted. Soon, a strong perfume scent wafted over. The next second, Steven let out a sneeze, his tiny body shaking slightly. At that exact moment, a voice pierced through the clamor of the room, sharp and dripping with scorn. “Clara, I heard you recently married a man with a child. Are you really that desperate? You’re not planning to become a—” Though she didn’t finish, I knew what she meant. “Sarah Payne! Who do you think you’re mocking?” Wendy’s temper flared instantly as she glared at Sarah.

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My boyfriend is the prince of New York, yet he pretended to be a poor university student with amnesia and freeloaded off me. Even after my best friend Lucy Lane tried to persuade me for the hundredth time to dump this pretty boy, I still refused. Breaking up with him was absolutely out of the question. Until one night, I overheard a conversation between Secretary. “Since the fish have already taken the bait, it’s time for me to go back and reel them in.” “Then, Miss Nancy Faye, what do you plan to do with her?” When I heard this, I almost burst out laughing. I’m finally going to get rich. 0 Lately, Hanson Gabe has been sneaking out behind my back. Before he leaves, he always prepares a table full of delicious food and sweet-talks me. Once I’m asleep, he quietly sneaks out. Little does he know, I’m not actually asleep because I’m waiting for him to betray me. Tonight, after he tossed me around for a while, he got dressed and left. This is the tenth time this month. My patience, though vast, was wearing thin. After he left, I threw on some clothes and followed him out the door. I hid in the stairwell, pressing my ear against the door. I heard Hanson’s voice from the other side of the door. “It seems those old folks at the company are getting anxious. I should head back and close the deal.” Another man respectfully asked, “Then, Young Master, how should we deal with Miss Nancy Faye?” Hearing this made me nervous. Hanson has been freeloading off me for so long, spending my money and sleeping with me; he better not plan on just leaving. Hanson replied in a low voice, “She’s obsessed with money. Just give her a check to get rid of her.” The other man seemed surprised by Hanson’s response and quickly said, “But Miss Nancy Faye has taken care of you for so long. Isn’t just giving her a check a bit heartless?” Hanson seemed annoyed, “What else should I do? Marry her? With her? A third-rate student from a third-rate university working at a third-rate company? And she thinks she’s worthy of entering the Gabe family?” The man then asked, “How much should I write on the check?” Hanson’s response was chillingly indifferent. “Whatever amount she wants.” Hearing Hanson’s chilling words, a surge of triumph and vengeance bubbled up inside me. “Whatever amount she wants.” This is the most beautiful love confession I’ve ever heard in two lifetimes. 0

Yes, two lifetimes, because I’ve been reborn. In my past life, I encountered Hanson Gabe under the guise of a hospital amnesia case. His face, chiseled and enigmatic, seemed to hold secrets I was drawn to unravel. Bewitched by his allure, I took him into my home, offering him the sanctuary of my food, my clothes, and my bed. To be honest, we did have a happy time together. It was so blissful that I believed love was everything. Hanson pretended he had amnesia from a car accident caused by a power struggle within his company. He used this time to secretly reorganize the Gabe Corporation from the shadows. The day the Gabe family sent their entourage to retrieve Hanson, ten Rolls Royces glided into my dilapidated neighborhood like a parade of dark, gleaming monoliths. The luxurious convoy drew the eyes of every resident, their gazes riveted to the spectacle that unfolded before them. I watched as Hanson changed into a tailored suit and put on a Rolex watch. He handed me a check for 5 million dollars, thanking me for taking care of him during this time. Back then, I was completely in love with Hanson, thinking love was more important than anything. I refused the check, only wanting to be with him forever. I can still remember the look he gave me—a look you’d give to a stray dog on the street. Disdainful, confused, amused. Later, Hanson unilaterally broke up with me. I couldn’t accept it and went to the media to expose our relationship during the time he pretended to have amnesia. Hanson gained a reputation for being heartless and cold. As public opinion grew, it caused turmoil in the Gabe Corporation, which had just come out of a power struggle. In the end, Hanson proposed to me under pressure and married me. On the second day after our wedding, I saw on the front page of the newspaper that he spent the night at a hotel with a popular model. From then on, Hanson tortured me daily, saying that seeing me made him sick. He even bought the media company I had exposed him to and revealed that I was the one who leaked the information. Overnight, I went from being a kind-hearted wife to a scheming gold-digger. Hanson’s cold violence and the online harassment eventually led to me developing depression, and I ultimately committed suicide at home. 0

When I woke up again, I found myself lying in the hospital where I first met Hanson, having fainted due to low blood sugar. Seeing Hanson call me “sweetheart” again and again, I rolled my eyes. This time around, it’s not about revenge. I’ve lived through the agony, and now, it’s all about seizing what’s rightfully mine. I’ve been reborn, and with this new chance, I’m focusing on one thing: that $5 million. Sure enough, in this life, Hanson still pretended to have amnesia and claimed to have fallen in love with me at first sight. When I saw his chiseled, devastatingly handsome face, it seemed like the words “5 million dollars” were written all over it. I rubbed my hands together and took him home. Everything is falling perfectly into place this time around. Hanson and I naturally gravitated towards each other, and I showered him with even more care than in the past life. When he was hungry, I prepared his favorite meals with my own hands. When he was in financial trouble, I generously transferred money to him without hesitation. And when he wanted to sleep with me? No problem at all—come right over, and let’s make this night unforgettable. Even my longtime best friend, Lucy Lane, condemned me with scathing words, calling me a heartless, ungrateful friend who had abandoned our shared dream of wealth and success. The neighbor across the hall was so angry about the care I gave Hanson that he complained to his wife about how little attention he received. Under my devoted care, my relationship with Hanson flourished. Unlike in my previous life, he began to embrace the role of a caring partner.He learned to cook and took pride in preparing meals for me, often surprising me with lunch at work. His gestures were the talk of the office, sparking envy among my colleagues who marveled at my seemingly perfect, attentive boyfriend. Ha—considerate, perhaps, but a sweet, obedient dog? Absolutely. Since taking in Hanson and deciding to make money, my work has been booming—I got three promotions in a row. But this small change doesn’t interest me; I want 5 million dollars. My phone suddenly lit up; it was Lucy texting me on Messenger. This was her 101st attempt to get me to break up with Hanson. “Nancy Faye! How could you be so blinded by that pretty boy? If you don’t break up with him, we’re finished! Look at you now, drowning in love and forgetting everything we planned. Do you even remember our dream of getting rich?!” In my past life, Lucy’s harsh words were a wake-up call I ignored because of my love for Hanson. This time, when faced with her angry plea, I turned her down not out of love but for the money! “Lucy, I love Hanson. Trust me, but that doesn’t mean we can’t get rich. Pack your things and get your passport ready; I’m taking you flying.” After sending the message, I heard a noise outside the door—Hanson was back. I quickly placed my phone face down, feigning sleep as I heard his footsteps approach. His warmth enveloped me as he slipped into bed, his arms wrapping around my waist with a possessive gentleness. He slept soundly, but I couldn’t sleep out of excitement over the words “Whatever amount she wants.” Finally, the day has come! The chains of endless toil are shattered, and I stand on the precipice of my liberation. 0

I’ve been waiting for this day for what feels like forever. Another month has passed, but in my last life, Hanson had already left by this time. Why is he still here in this one? When I got home from work, I opened the door and was stunned. Flowers, balloons, candles, a feast, and music. Uh… what is this? “Nancy, today is our one-year anniversary.” I looked at Hanson, who was dressed to the nines, and couldn’t figure out what he was up to. Seeing that I wasn’t reacting, Hanson waved his hand in front of my face. “Nancy, Nancy, what are you thinking about?” I cleared my throat, “I was thinking about you, thinking about how much effort my baby put in to surprise me. I’m so touched that I’m about to cry.” Pretending to be overwhelmed with gratitude, I snuggled into his arms and planted a kiss on his chin. Hanson hugged me tightly, rubbing his chin on the top of my head, “It’s all worth it for you.” I pinched the palm of my hand hard, tears welling up in my eyes. I looked up at Hanson through my blurred vision,”Will you ever stop wanting me? After all, I’m just a third-rate student from a third-rate university, toiling away at a third-rate company. ” “Of course not!” Seeing the determination in Hanson’s eyes, I found it both amusing and repulsive. These were the very same words he had used to belittle me before—words that painted me as nothing more than a pathetic afterthought. Now, here he was, parading around with this grand display of affection. How utterly revolting. “Really? You’ll never despise me? Will you marry me? Will we get married?” Hearing my questions, Hanson hesitated for a moment. Ha—gotcha, didn’t I? “Of course we will.” I didn’t expect Hanson to agree. Despite being so disgusted with me, he still wants to put on this charade. It’s a shame he didn’t pursue acting. I lowered my head and pretended to be happy, burying myself in Hanson’s arms. He pushed me away and picked up an exquisite velvet box from the table. Seeing the box, my eyes lit up. This boy knows what’s up. My year of acting with him wasn’t in vain. Judging by the box, the contents must be valuable. “This is for you.” I accepted it happily and opened it, only to find a lousy red string inside. What the hell? Where’s my knife? Is this supposed to be the prince of New York? The heir to the Gabe Corporation? Are you kidding me? If I hadn’t already developed the habit of putting on a fake smile in front of Hanson, I might have slapped him right there. “What is this?” I asked, looking puzzled, carefully picking up the red string and examining it for a while. Hmm… it’s really just a red string. Not even a gold bead, let alone a silver one. “This is a peace charm I got for you at the temple today. Wear it, and it will keep you safe.” I could curse his entire family to hell and back, but I still put on a look of being deeply moved. “Really? I love it. You’re so good to me.” With that, I hooked my arm around Hanson’s neck and gave him a kiss. Hanson immediately deepened the kiss, gently sucking on my lips like he was savoring a piece of jelly. Another sleepless night—my last conscious thought before drifting off was whether this stingy man would still give me that check. 0

The next morning, I was woken up by the sound of people talking. I sat up in bed, rubbing my aching waist. Hanson was already gone. I stood by the window, looking down at a row of Rolls Royces parked outside. Finally! Finally! The day has come! Suddenly, my waist didn’t hurt anymore, my legs weren’t sore, and I could climb five flights of stairs in one go. I didn’t even bother putting on shoes as I dashed downstairs. I saw Hanson, now dressed in a well-fitted black suit, his black-framed glasses replaced with gold-rimmed ones, and a diamond-studded Rolex on his wrist. A crowd had gathered around the entrance, watching the spectacle. Several bodyguards approached Hanson, bowing respectfully. Finally, they’re here. You’re finally here. Tears of excitement welled up in my eyes, but I held them back and pretended to be scared, “Who are you? Where are you taking my boyfriend?” A man dressed as a secretary pulled my arm away from Hanson. “Miss Nancy Faye, please behave yourself. This is Mr. Hanson Gabe, the heir to the Gabe Corporation. To thank you for taking care of Mr. Gabe over the past year, here is a check. You can fill in the amount as a small token of the Gabe Corporation’s gratitude.” This voice—it was the same person I heard talking with Hanson late at night. My lips trembled, and tears streamed down my face. I looked like a pitiful wife being abandoned by her husband. My hand reached out to Hanson again, “Hanson, are you… are you leaving me?”

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I discovered a box of birth control pills in the widow’s room. I swapped them out for regular stomach medicine. The reason was simple: since my mother-in-law was so eager to have a grandchild, why not have one herself? Later, Mrs. Welmann came over to see her and handed her a bank card. “This is your reward for giving our family a child.” I installed a miniature camera in our bedroom. After work, I often found that the neatly made bed had wrinkles, and the alarm clock or glass on the nightstand had subtly shifted. But there were only three people in our house: me, my husband Jeremy Kohn, and my mother-in-law, who had recently moved in. Yet, just two months into our marriage, Jeremy wielded every trick in the book, employing a relentless charm and persuasion to convince me to welcome his mother into our home. He swore, “My mom is just a weak woman; she won’t interfere with our lives.” But on the second morning after she moved in, she knocked on our door at six o’clock. “Fennie, why haven’t you made breakfast yet?” When there was no response, she started pounding on the door. I dragged my tired body to open it. “Mom, don’t we have a maid to make breakfast?” “That’s expensive! It’s just breakfast; why waste money on that?” Her head barely reached my nose, but her presence was overwhelming as she stared me down. Jeremy was still snoring like a log. Knowing he’d worked late the night before, I decided not to wake him. Resigned, I headed to the kitchen, reheated some bread, fried up eggs and ham, and made a sandwich. She pushed the sandwich aside. “Is this all for breakfast? Are you trying to fool me?” “Jeremy and I usually have this for breakfast. What would you like?” “My needs aren’t that high. We must have oatmeal every morning, and it should be varied throughout the week. The sides can be simple, but there should always be fresh pastries and a hot breakfast sandwich. Meat is good, but it shouldn’t be too greasy—just like the ones from that fancy café downtown.” Her saliva sprayed onto my face as she ranted. I wiped my face, grabbed the keys, and went downstairs to buy breakfast for her. She continued, her voice sharp with criticism, “I didn’t ask you to buy it; homemade is always healthier. Who knows what kind of oil or meat they use? And why are you walking away while I’m still talking?” As time passed, her aggression grew more relentless. She chased away the hourly maid, leaving me buried under the mountain of housework. The washing machine was off-limits, as she insisted that hand-washing was the only way to ensure cleanliness. She severed the power to the dishwasher, decrying it as a waste of electricity and water. In the dead of night, she would storm into our room to shut off the air conditioner,, saying she was worried we’d catch a cold… I harbored a growing resentment. It all came to a head when I saw the surveillance video. Two days after installing the camera, I sat down to review the footage after finishing a project at work. With a sense of mounting dread, I fast-forwarded through the recordings of the past few days. What I saw left me stunned and breathless: Mr. Welmann was kissing my mother-in-law as they entered my bedroom. They tumbled onto my bed, entwined in a passionate embrace Mr. Welmann lived next door, and he had a happy family. I would never expect that he would cheat with my mother-in-law? As I watched their entangled bodies on the screen, a wave of nausea surged over me, overwhelming every sense. My stomach churned violently, and I stumbled toward the bathroom, my breath coming in ragged gasps. Their movements were smooth and practiced, a damning testament to the fact that this betrayal was not a fleeting moment but a repeated, calculated affair. Suppressing my trembling hands, I decided to tell Jeremy everything that night and then have a conversation with his mother.

After dinner, I fiddled with a USB drive in my hand. It contained a copy of the video. I was thinking about how to bring it up. Jeremy came out of the bathroom, freshly showered, with only a towel around his waist. He wrapped his damp arms around me, rubbing his stubbly chin against my face. He picked up the USB drive. “What’s on this?” I took a deep breath. “Why don’t you take a look?” Curious, he plugged it into the computer. Just as he was about to open the file, I stopped him because of a sharp pain in my abdomen—the worst pain I had ever felt. My legs started to tremble. I collapsed to the ground, clutching my stomach. He rushed over, trying to soothe my pain. “I can’t… I need to go to the hospital…” He quickly threw on some clothes, scooped me up, and sped off to the hospital. After enduring a grueling blood test and examination, I was left utterly drained, sweat pouring down my forehead as I sat in the sterile, clinical room. My body trembled, a prelude to the fever that soon consumed me. The diagnosis was acute liver damage, cause unknown. I spent the night vomiting and with diarrhea, the fever raging on. I even started talking nonsense, calling out for my parents. Jeremy took care of me the whole night, and I felt slightly better the next day. The doctor suggested that my condition might be due to inappropriate medication. Jeremy and I exchanged puzzled looks. I hadn’t taken any medication recently, and my diet had been quite ordinary. The only difference was the soup my mother-in-law had insisted on making for me that night, saying it was to nourish my body, made especially for me. Under Jeremy’s questioning, my mother-in-law finally admitted that the soup contained medicine she had gotten from a “master”. “What kind of medicine?” “A fertility tonic.” I was utterly spent, both physically and emotionally. From childhood, I had been frail, and the doctor had long advised against pregnancy. My inclination towards a child-free life had always been clear, a choice Jeremy and I had meticulously discussed before our marriage. He had steadfastly supported my decision Driven by a pang of guilt, my family had covered the full cost of our marital home. When the time came for her to move in, I didn’t hesitate. She had previously tried to feed me all manner of bizarre remedies, each one a disturbing echo of her control, but I always managed to find an excuse to refuse them. I had voiced my concerns to Jeremy, only to be met with his dismissive attitude. He brushed it off, attributing it to the quirks of the older generation and urging me not to take it to heart. But now, she had gone too far. If it had been any more serious, I could have accused her of attempted murder!

I spent quite some time recovering in the hospital, and the matter was brushed off. Jeremy sternly warned his mother never to give me any strange substances again. She grudgingly agreed. The day I was discharged, Jeremy came to pick me up. While he was handling the paperwork, I overheard my mother-in-law’s voice around the corner. “Jeremy, I asked the doctor. He said Fennie probably can’t have children.” Jeremy already knew and just brushed it off with a few words. Then, in a hushed tone, my mother-in-law continued, “I’ve found a nice girl for you.” “What are you talking about, Mom?” “I promised not to force any more medicine on Fennie, but you still owe me a grandchild,” she declared with a chilling resolve. “This girl has wide hips and strong bones—she’ll surely bear you a healthy son. And she has feelings for you, as well. If Fennie agrees to raise the child, that’s perfect. If not, well, you can always divorce her!” I felt my illness surging back, the anger within me spinning my world into a dizzying haze. My mother-in-law, already a ruinous force in our lives, was now audaciously trying to push another girl into the role of mistress to her own son. Truly, she was rotten to the core. I forced myself to stand, leaning against the wall, just to hear Jeremy’s response. “I can’t divorce Fennie.” Hearing his words, a flicker of relief washed over me. But then, the cruel twist came: “I need to get more money out of her family first. Once she’s no longer of use, I’ll divorce her. Mom, show me that girl’s picture.” I don’t know how I made it back to the hospital room or how I managed to act normal as we left the hospital and went home. I just felt utterly cold, the flames of revenge consuming me. I shredded the file on the USB drive, walked straight to my mother-in-law’s room, and swapped her birth control pills for regular stomach medicine. The Kohn family, I won’t let you have an easy time. Jeremy had pursued me since our school days, promising, “With you, I’ll never look at another woman.” I thought I had married for love. But now, I realize that if a woman truly believes a man’s sweet talk, there’s nothing more foolish. Just like I once was. Don’t place high expectations on marriage. It’s merely two people coexisting, navigating the mundane struggles of daily life together. If you hold onto the illusion of true love, you’re destined for disappointment. Embrace the truth: view him as just a roommate, and you might find a sliver of solace amidst the harsh reality. But I won’t divorce Jeremy so easily. The real drama is only just beginning.

My mother-in-law’s appetite seemed insatiable, growing more ravenous with each passing day. As she reached for a third serving of mashed potatoes at dinner, Jeremy’s gaze turned sharp. He put down his fork, his voice laced with a hint of irritation. “Mom, why are you eating so much lately?” She set her fork down as well. “What, are you saying your mother eats too much? Are you upset that I’m spending your money?” Jeremy shook his head helplessly. She then turned her gaze toward me, her eyes gleaming with a chilling triumph. “I’m eating more than Fennie, which proves that I’m healthier than she is,” she declared, her voice dripping with disdain. “Her? Hmph, she can’t even give us a grandchild.” I’m not a broodmare, why should I produce offspring? Whenever my mother-in-law targeted me, Jeremy would pretend to be busy and avoid getting involved. In the past, I might have put down my fork and argued with her. But now, I gave her a sheepish smile and admitted my fault. “You’re right, you’re much healthier. You still look like you could have more kids,” I said, forcing a tone of mock humility, the words slipping through my lips with a strained courtesy. Her eyes narrowed, suspicion and confusion mingling in her gaze. “Wait. What are you saying?” “Fennie, how can you speak to our mom like that?” they both erupted in unison, their voices rising in a simultaneous crescendo of outrage. I was laughing on the inside, but on the outside, I showed a terrified expression. Suddenly, my mother-in-law hurled her chair back and bolted for the bathroom. A moment later, the room was pierced by a horrifying retching sound, as if she was expelling her very soul in a fit of violent sickness. I gasped in shock, my heart racing as the unsettling noise echoed through the house. With a voice trembling with concern, I suggested to Jeremy that we take her to the hospital for a thorough checkup. His eyes, wide with alarm, met mine, and he nodded in agreement. The car ride to the hospital was silent. Out of nowhere, I said, “Mom, your symptoms are a bit like pregnancy.” Her face turned ashen, and she coldly snorted. “Mom, there’s an old legend from our hometown,” I began, my voice deliberately calm despite the tension crackling around us. “They say that long ago, a hunter stumbled upon the egg of a serpent god and, in his greed, ate it. In retribution, the serpent god cursed the hunter’s mother. She was doomed to conceive child after child, her body relentlessly bearing the burden until she perished from sheer exhaustion.” Jeremy was driving, glaring at me through the rearview mirror. “Fennie, you have a master’s degree. Why are you spouting such nonsense?” I smoothed my skirt with a practiced grace, forcing a slight smile as I said, “Oh, it’s just an old tale I heard.” My mother-in-law, her face now a mask of unease, leaned back and closed her eyes. I pressed on, my voice cold and deliberate. “They say that ever since, any woman who has an affair in our hometown meets that same fate. My grandmother always said that people from our hometown carry that curse with them wherever they go.” Jeremy’s face darkened with fury, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the steering wheel. I looked at my mother-in-law, noticing her eyelids twitching slightly, and her hands turning pale from tension. Satisfied, I fell silent. We arrived at the hospital without her babbling. My mother-in-law’s anxiety was palpable as we waited for the test results, her hands twisting in her lap and her eyes darting nervously around the waiting room. When her name was finally called, she tried to insist on going in alone, but Jeremy, his expression a mix of disbelief and determination, firmly took the lead.We followed closely behind The doctor adjusted his glasses, his face a mask of clinical detachment. “At her age,” he said, his voice heavy with professional gravity, “pregnancy isn’t recommended.” Jeremy leaned back, a harsh, unsettling laugh erupting from him. “You must be joking,” he said, his voice laced with disbelief. “My mom is fifty, and my dad’s been dead for two years. How can she be pregnant?” “We don’t joke about these things.” “Then you must have the wrong report.” Seeing the seriousness on the doctor’s face, Jeremy stopped laughing. “Whose is it? Whose baby is it?!” Jeremy’s voice reverberated through the sterile hospital hallway. His mother sat on the bench, her shoulders hunched in defeat, her eyes swollen and red from crying. She fumbled with a handkerchief, her stammering words barely coherent. “The… the serpent god’s…” “Serpent god, my foot!!!” Jeremy was livid.

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In the third year of our marriage, Sir Adrian Stone vowed to make amends for our rushed wedding with a grand celebration, one that would rival the most opulent of affairs. Yet, on that fateful day, as we prepared for the festivities, a congratulatory letter arrived from Seraphina Dewhurst, Stonehaven’s most illustrious dancer. My husband, ever unyielding, declared with icy resolve, “In my heart, there is room for only one woman, my lady.” But when Seraphina, driven to the edge by despair, threatened to end her life beneath the falling snow, he dashed to her side with an urgency I had never seen. “My lady,” he pleaded, “I cannot abandon her.” As the news of our resplendent re-marriage swept through the town, I witnessed something that defied his usual composure. For the first time, the stoic general’s eyes, so often hardened by duty, were rimmed with red, and in that moment, I saw the cracks in the stone facade of his heart. Sir Adrian Stone, the renowned young general of Stonehaven, and I shared a bond that seemed forged in perfect harmony. Our first wedding, a hurried affair, had been overshadowed by his pressing military duties. But on the third anniversary of our union, he vowed to make amends. “Elara,” he declared with solemn sincerity, “I vow never to fail you in this life, and I wish to declare our love to the world.” The grand celebration was a spectacle of opulence and devotion, and whispers of our perfect match filled the air. It was known far and wide that despite the years we had spent together, Adrian had never sought another wife or mistress. The world looked on, admiring our unblemished love, and I felt as if we were the epitome of a fairy-tale romance. Yet beneath the glittering façade of our perfect union, shadows lurked—secrets that would soon unravel in the most unexpected ways. A few days before our grand celebration, I visited the doctor in secret and learned I was three months pregnant. I planned to reveal this joyous surprise to Adrian during the wedding banquet. On the day of the event, with thousands of doves soaring into the sky and a hall brimming with distinguished guests, Adrian approached me in his deep red ceremonial robe. Each step he took was deliberate, his hand outstretched towards me, his smile radiant. “Today, before all these esteemed guests,” he declared, his voice rich with emotion, “I pledge eternal devotion to my wife, Lady Elara Stonemore… From this day forth, I shall never forsake you.” The banquet, a spectacle of grandeur, was meticulously orchestrated to bolster his career and prestige. Every detail was prearranged, every moment calculated. As I stood by his side, poised and serene, my heart swelled with anticipation. The world watched as Adrian made his vows, oblivious to the secret that would transform our lives forever. After the ceremony, as we settled into our seats, I adopted a serious expression, the weight of my secret heavy on my shoulders. “Honey, there’s something I need to tell you,” I said, my voice steady but my heart racing. Adrian’s demeanor shifted instantly. He straightened, his eyes locking onto mine with a gravity that was both earnest and endearing. “What is it, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine concern. The sincerity in his gaze, the way he leaned in as if bracing for a revelation, struck a chord deep within me. Despite the moment’s gravity, I couldn’t hold it any longer. The tension dissolved into an unexpected burst of laughter. At that precise moment, the stage curtains parted with a dramatic sweep, unveiling a dancer in an aquamarine gown, her face partially concealed by a delicate veil. Her eyes, glinting like stars through a cascade of pearls, held an enchanting allure that captivated the entire room. As she began to dance, her movements were a mesmerizing blend of fluid grace and hypnotic rhythm. The gown flowed like water with each step, harmonizing perfectly with the music’s ethereal strains. The room seemed to hold its breath, all eyes drawn to the dancer’s spellbinding performance. But it was Adrian’s reaction that drew my attention most. His face, previously animated with joy, now reflected a deeper, more profound shift. His gaze was locked on the dancer with a piercing intensity, unblinking, as if drawn into a trance by her every movement. After the dancer’s performance, she cast a lingering, enigmatic glance over her shoulder before slipping gracefully backstage. Adrian and I followed, our footsteps echoing in the grand hallway. Adrian’s face was taut with a mix of tension and resolve. His eyes, usually so steady, were stormy, and his lips were pressed into a thin, hard line. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, his voice slicing through the silence with an edge of barely contained fury. To my astonishment, the dancer knelt down with a fluid grace that seemed to echo the haunting elegance of her earlier performance. Her eyes, now filled with a deep, melancholy plea, looked up at Adrian as she extended a letter towards him. Her gaze was as tender and vulnerable as a doe’s, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. “After all these years,” she said, her voice trembling with a fragile emotion, “I wished to deliver this letter to you in person, General, to find peace in my heart.” The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of past secrets and unresolved emotions “You know her?” I asked, my voice laced with bewilderment. Adrian’s explanation came swiftly, almost too swiftly. “Her name is Seraphina Dewhurst. I knew her back when I was still a nobody. She’s now the most celebrated courtesan at Moonrise Manor in the capital.” As Seraphina’s quivering voice broke the silence, she continued, “I heard about your wedding and signed up to perform just so I could witness the love you share with Lady Elara.” Her gaze flickered towards me, and in that fleeting moment, I saw a storm of emotions in her eyes—envy, resentment, and a deep, inscrutable longing. Before I could even process the revelation, Adrian’s frustration erupted. His voice, usually so measured, cut through the air with a sharp edge. “Miss,” he snapped, his eyes blazing with exasperation, “we were nothing more than passing acquaintances. The world is vast—there’s no reason for you to cling to me any longer.” Seraphina’s shoulders slumped under the weight of Adrian’s rejection, and in an instant, the facade of composed elegance shattered. Tears streamed down her face, her sobs escaping in ragged, heart-wrenching bursts. “I have no one else, General,” she cried out, her voice breaking with raw desperation. “I just want to stay by your side. I’d gladly marry you, even as a lowly concubine with no title. My fears, now crystal clear, sent a wave of dizziness crashing over me. I clutched my maid’s hand tightly, seeking any semblance of support to steady myself. Yet, Adrian, so often astute and aware, seemed blind to my turmoil. His gaze remained steadfastly fixed on Seraphina, his voice an unsettling calm as he addressed her. “Seraphina,” he said, his tone steady but cold, “don’t degrade yourself. There’s no need to sacrifice your dignity for me.” 2. He called her Seraphina with such ease, unaware of the intimacy with which she had once addressed him. “I have a wife now,” Adrian said firmly, “and I’ve promised her a lifetime of love. She is my wife, and I have no intention of marrying anyone else.” Adrian’s words were resolute as he waved a servant over to escort her out. After dealing with the situation, he took my hand, meeting my puzzled gaze. “Just an old acquaintance. She won’t trouble us again.” As I looked at him, unyielding and formidable as ever, a tremor of doubt seized me for the first time. His sharp features, those hawk-like eyes, and the faint scars etched into his cheeks spoke of legendary heroism. But as my gaze traced the contours of his strong hands, a question gnawed at my heart—how many hearts had those very hands ensnared with their touch? How many whispered promises had they crafted in the dark? When I first encountered him, my father was the esteemed master horse trainer of the Royal Stables, and I was renowned as the most skilled horsewoman in all of Stonehaven. My days were spent assisting my father, immersed in the world of powerful steeds and intricate reins. At that time, Adrian had just claimed his first military victory, and the King had bestowed upon him a fiery red stallion—wild, unruly, and impossible to tame. I took it upon myself to subdue the beast, and with a deft touch and unyielding resolve, I led the stallion to Adrian personally. The moment he laid eyes on me, something shifted in the air. His gaze, intense and captivated, locked onto me with a fervor that spoke of destiny. His pursuit was relentless, each gesture a testament to his burgeoning passion. And I, caught in the tempest of his ambition and charm, found myself irresistibly drawn to the young, handsome general. Our connection was ignited in that single, fateful moment. He treated me with the utmost care, and our love quickly became the talk of Stonehaven. Rumors spread that “if one must marry, let it be Sir Adrian Stone, and if one must be a wife, let it be like Lady Elara.” My thoughts jolted back to the present, and I stared at him, his face frozen in time as if no years had passed. I lowered my gaze, my voice trembling with barely contained emotion. “That woman’s feelings for you,” I said, each word heavy with tension, “are so profound and genuine that it’s nearly unimaginable she was only a passing acquaintance.” With a resigned breath, he revealed the truth. Years ago, during a perilous mission, he had saved Seraphina from a band of ruthless bandits and brought her into his camp as a servant. Only later did he learn she was a courtesan. In a moment of raw vulnerability, Seraphina had confessed her feelings to him, begging him not to send her back to her old life. But he had turned her away. “I was the one who sent her back,” he murmured, his voice heavy with regret. “How could I possibly have any feelings for her?” He reached out, his touch tentative yet full of longing, drawing me into his embrace. “I’ve tarnished our day with shadows of doubt,” he said, his voice breaking with sincerity. “I’ll make it up to you on your birthday. I swear, I will be with you through every cherished moment, through every joy and sorrow. We will grow old together, bound by the promises we’ve made and the love we share.” But my heart was weighed down by conflicting emotions, and the surprise I had planned for Adrian remained unsaid. On the night of the winter festival, I was out on High Street, handing out food to the poor as snow began to fall gently from the sky. Adrian stayed indoors, engrossed in military matters and not joining me. Sensitive to the cold, I couldn’t help but cough. “My lady,” my maid Liana urged, wrapping my cloak tighter around me, “we should go inside. You’re not strong enough to withstand this weather.” “No need,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper, as I glanced back. There, amidst the falling snow, was a woman covered in wounds, kneeling in the frozen silence. It was Seraphina Dewhurst, the same woman who had shattered our wedding banquet with her presence. She knelt before our gate, her expression a haunting tableau of despair. Then, in a sudden and chilling motion, she drew a dagger from her cloak and slashed her wrist, the crimson blood mingling with the snow in a macabre dance. The blood seeping into the snow was a stark contrast against the white, making her frail figure appear even more pitiful. Before long, Adrian burst through the door like an arrow from a bow, rushing to her side. He scooped her up in his arms, and she lay weakly against him, her breath faint and labored. “Without your love, I have no reason to live,” she whispered, her voice quivering with a desperate finality. “I don’t want to burden you any further, General, so…” Her words faltered, and her eyes closed as she fainted, collapsing limp in his arms. He carried her swiftly back to the manor, his stride resolute as he summoned the physician to tend to her wounds. Outside, the snow fell heavily, cloaking the world in a blanket of cold silence. Inside, however, the fire roared with the warmth of a spring day, its glow casting a stark contrast against the frigid night. Seraphina eventually stirred, her eyes fluttering open to find herself cradled gently in Adrian’s arms. The light from the snow outside cast an ethereal glow upon her, accentuating her beauty in a way that seemed almost otherworldly. When our eyes met, her gaze was sharp and mocking. “The General may be able to leave without a care, but what about me?” she asked, her voice trembling as she struggled to lift her head. Tears welled up in her eyes as she swiftly removed her clothing, revealing her pale shoulder. There, etched into her skin, was a tattoo of the name “Adrian,” stark and undeniable. “In the past,” she said, her voice choked with emotion, “you pitied me for my tragic fate and personally marked me with your name, promising me a lifetime of protection. Do you still remember that promise, General?” Adrian’s composure shattered as he pulled her head against his chest, his voice trembling with raw desperation. “Why are you doing this to me, Seraphina?” he asked, his words laced with anguish. “Do you have any idea how deeply you wound my heart?” Soon, the physician arrived and assessed the situation, revealing a devastating truth. Seraphina’s body, ravaged by the harsh winter chill, had been rendered incapable of bearing children. The physician’s grim report unveiled that, in a desperate bid to captivate Adrian with her dance, she had ingested a perilous potion. This potion, while bestowing upon her the ethereal grace of a swan and an almost otherworldly beauty, had a devastating price: the musk it contained had sacrificed her ability to conceive. Barely able to speak, Seraphina gasped, “Though I lived among courtesans, my heart has always been yours, General. I could never give myself to anyone else. When my madam forced me to take another client, I ran, preferring to die at your doorstep rather than surrender my loyalty to you. My love for you was my only refuge.” “Seraphina, that’s enough,” Adrian said, his voice cracking as he turned his head away. The redness at the corners of his eyes betrayed the storm of emotions he struggled to contain. As expected, he pulled me outside, into the fury of the howling wind and swirling snow. In our three years of marriage, we had never stood in such profound silence. Finally, he shattered the stillness with a voice fraught with tension. “Elara,” he said, his words trembling with the weight of his struggle, “this is a grave matter. I can’t simply turn my back on her.” I forced a smile, but it barely touched my lips. “It seems the entire realm has witnessed this betrayal,” I said, my voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “The very General who swore, in front of our closest kin, never to abandon me—only days ago at our wedding feast—has now brought a courtesan into our home and branded her with his own name. Is it your wish to make me the jest of Stonehaven, reduced to a mere spectacle of mockery?” “If you cannot uphold your vows, then let us dissolve this marriage and part ways.” I spun on my heel, but Adrian’s grip tightened on my sleeve. The man who stood unwavering before the King now faltered, his voice cracking with desperation. “Elara, you must believe me. I took her in only out of compassion. My heart—my heart belongs solely to you.” I interrupted him with cold finality. “How many women have you uttered these words to?” His frustration boiled over, and his voice rose with fury. “Elara Stonemore, there is no divorce between us—only death can sever our bond. It seems I have indulged you too much, making you forget that a wife is bound to obey her husband!” With that, he stormed back inside, his conviction unwavering that I would never leave him—that I would, in time, acquiesce as other women had, and share him with another. A profound sadness enveloped me. How much simpler it would have been had I never loved Adrian, never cherished those fleeting moments of romance. The sting of his betrayal dissipated like a snowflake melting on my fingertip, leaving only the cold, empty void of what might have been. With steely resolve, I made my decision and called for my maid, Liana. “Bring me two things,” I instructed, my voice steady but laced with unspoken resolve. “First, a potion to end this pregnancy. And second, a concoction to ensure Adrian can father no more children.” Adrian relegated Seraphina to the west wing, bestowing upon her no title but assigning two maids to attend her every need, thus elevating her presence within the manor to one of startling prominence. Meanwhile, I retreated into seclusion, meticulously enacting my plan as the unmistakable signs of my pregnancy grew more conspicuous. One day, as I lingered in the garden, lost in the vibrant beauty of the flowers, an unexpected figure emerged from the shadows. She was a vision of poise and vitality, her radiant complexion glowing under the sun. With a chilling smile, she approached and said, “Sister, how have you relished these past three years, hoarding my husband for yourself?” I had no wish to engage with her, but Seraphina sighed, her demeanor as serene as a drifting breeze. She took a few deliberate steps back, each movement as light and deliberate as a whisper. “But now that I’ve returned,” she said with an almost ethereal calm, “isn’t it time for you to step aside?” Before I could respond, she turned on her heel, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. Moments later, the sharp sound of shattering ice echoed through the garden as the pond’s surface gave way beneath her. Seraphina’s screams pierced the air as she floundered in the freezing water. She accused me of pushing her—a ludicrous, transparent scheme that once would have made me scoff at its sheer amateurishness. But Adrian, blinded by his guilt and her theatrics, believed her without hesitation. When he stormed in, fury crackling in his eyes, I remained unnervingly calm. “I didn’t do it,” I said, my voice steady as a stone. His fists, once clenched with the intent to shatter, slowly relaxed. He frowned, the anger in his gaze flickering before finally dimming. “Very well,” he murmured, almost to himself. “I believe you.” But before the fragile truce between us could settle, a servant burst through the door, breathless and frantic. “General! Lady Seraphina has been struck by a sudden fever—she’s unconscious!” Without a word, his eyes widened in alarm, and he spun on his heel, racing to her side. He never looked back, and once again, I was left in the shadows of his unyielding devotion, abandoned and forgotten. 4. That night, the snow on the roof began to melt, the dripping water a mournful rhythm in the silence. The intricately carved bed Adrian had commissioned for me sat cold and unused in the west wing, its wood groaning and creaking as if echoing the weight of unspoken sorrow. I lay awake, my hand resting on my still-flat abdomen, feeling the two heartbeats flutter within me. What had once been the promise of a life I yearned for had transformed into a silent burden, a grief that grew with every pulse. Each beat was a reminder of the love that had withered, leaving me to cradle the remnants of a future that no longer felt like my own. Moonrise Manor, which should have been shrouded in darkness after curfew, defiantly kept its lights burning through the night. The windows glowed like haunting beacons, casting eerie shadows across the grounds. I, sleepless and restless, stood at a distance, my eyes fixed on that solitary blaze. It was as if I were staring into the last flicker of light in a vast, unforgiving abyss—one final, desperate spark before the encroaching darkness swallowed it whole. The next morning, Adrian was summoned to the King. Word quickly spread that he had left the palace with a spring in his step, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. The news cut through the morning air like a bitter wind, chilling me to the bone. I knelt before the altar in the courtyard, my lips moving in silent prayers, seeking solace in the whispered words.Then, amidst the stillness, I heard footsteps approaching, slow and deliberate, echoing like a distant thunderclap. My pulse quickened, each beat heavy with dread. I looked up at the idol towering above, my chants steady and unwavering, as if each word could shield me from the venom in her voice. I tried to drown her out, focusing on the ancient prayers that had always brought me peace. But Seraphina wasn’t one to be ignored. She leaned in, her breath hot against my ear, her words a blade meant to cut deep. “The General was so strong in bed last night, so thoughtful,” she whispered, her voice dripping with malice. “He told me to be patient, and I couldn’t have been more satisfied.” I sneered, “He once scorned you as a mere courtesan. Now that you’re back in his favor, you cling to the illusion that your beauty is eternal and his love unshakeable?” Seraphina’s smile was a whisper of enigma. “Sister, your virtue blinds you. Haven’t you learned? It’s not mere beauty that engraves a memory, but the shadows we cast in the depths of his desires.” I sneered, “He once despised you for being a courtesan. Now, with your beauty restored and his favor regained, you’re so sure that your allure will never falter and his love will never fade?” Seraphina’s smile was a cryptic curl of her lips. “Sister, your virtue is admirable, but naive. What makes a man remember isn’t simply the surface of beauty, but the depths of desire that linger long after the visage has dimmed.” I recalled the potion she had used and an unsettling clarity washed over me. She was now an enchantress in her own right, her voice a melody laced with honey. No wonder even the most astute men fell prey to the spell of such breathtaking beauty. Adrian never graced my room again, his absence a chilling testament to rejection. Whispers reached me of his ascendancy; his command of the Royal Guard had earned him unprecedented favor. For his valor in battle, the King had granted him any reward he desired. Adrian approached the throne and, with a demeanor both resolute and humble, he rejected land and gold. Instead, he knelt and made a singular request to take Seraphina as his second formal wife. The entire city was enraptured by Adrian’s profound display of love and loyalty, marveling at his ability to harmonize his affections between his new love and longstanding duties. With a flourish befitting the grandeur of his promises, Adrian vowed to bestow upon Seraphina the most opulent wedding the city had ever witnessed. On that fateful day, with falcons soaring as messengers and blossoms scattered like silent witnesses, a resplendent carriage wound its way through the infamous Red Lantern Alley—a place where a young general’s marriage to a courtesan was an unprecedented spectacle. Disguised, I melded with the shadows of the alley, my gaze as icy as the winter wind, dissecting every moment of the unfolding drama. Adrian arrived astride a horse of unparalleled magnificence, his presence commanding as he thundered down the alley. The street was awash with the glint of a thousand silver coins, which he brandished with an air of disdainful arrogance.His demand was as audacious as it was clear: he sought to purchase Seraphina’s freedom, This was his entire savings from two years of military service and rewards, plus a substantial loan. Yet, despite his apparent triumph, the master’s demeanor was chillingly indifferent to the money. He watched with a cold, detached air as his men counted the coins, scarcely bothering to acknowledge their labor. With a scornful sneer, he declared, “You’re merely fortunate to have reclaimed the beauty.” In a gesture of haughty contempt, he crumpled the contract and hurled it over the high balcony, letting it cascade into the abyss below. The finality in his voice cut through the air like a blade: “Take her away.” “The General has declared that we are meant to be together for life. You may remain in the manor, but don’t harbor any illusions. You and the General are as good as divorced.” Facing her provocation, I offered a faint, enigmatic smile. “So be it. I can only hope he truly cherishes you.” Seraphina, eager to underscore her triumph, retorted with a haughty gleam in her eye, “He sacrificed all his military honors just to make me his equal wife. If that isn’t the very essence of true love, then what is?” I remained silent, my gaze unwavering as I pointed to the wooden box resting on the ground, filled with the hairpins and jade ornaments Adrian had gifted me. “Please, return these to him.” I lowered my gaze, a hint of melancholy in my voice. “It’s a pity, though, that the kites he crafted for me, the summer fireflies he once placed in my hands, and the hurried love letters from the battlefield… those are treasures that can never be reclaimed.” In days gone by, Adrian would rise before dawn to train, unfazed by the harshest weather. I would silently accompany him, offering a towel when his grueling session ended. I knew he was the kingdom’s backbone, the stalwart guardian of the realm. But now, he was consumed by Seraphina’s presence day and night, resorting to potions to sustain his vigor. It was as though the very essence of life had been siphoned from him; dark circles etched deep beneath his eyes, a haunting reminder of his age, despite his youth As my morning sickness intensified, I instructed Liana to procure a potion to end the pregnancy and arrange for a medical retreat. During this time, I had been surreptitiously poisoning Adrian’s food with a concoction designed to render him infertile, ensuring he could no longer father children. The moment had come to conclude this chapter. That day, while Adrian and Seraphina were enshrouded in their daytime indulgences, I took the divorce papers I had meticulously prepared. I stamped them with Adrian’s seal in his study, a final act of ruthless precision. With a steely resolve, I departed, leaving the documents behind like a cold declaration of finality. As I reached the door, a sudden, excruciating pain gripped my abdomen, and I felt warm, sticky blood flowing down. I was struck by a sudden realization—how could this be? I hadn’t taken the potion yet. Who had poisoned me? Adrian burst through the door, his face a mask of panic as he saw me sprawled on the floor, drenched in a pool of my own blood. “Elara, what’s happening?” he cried out, desperation tinged in his voice. But before he could reach me, a brutal kick sent him crashing to the ground, his body convulsing as he coughed up blood. The impact was jarring, and the scene blurred with the sharp sting of pain. As I lay curled on the cold floor, tears streamed down my face, mingling with the blood, my vision darkening with the weight of anguish A cold drop fell onto my eyelid, but it was not my own. “Don’t be afraid,” a voice murmured gently. “I’ll take you away.” Warm arms enveloped me, the heat of his body radiating intensely, nearly stealing my breath away. For a fleeting moment, my vision cleared enough to catch the face of the man holding me. It was the enigmatic master from Moonrise Manor, the very one I had glimpsed that fateful day. .6 This time, however, there was no trace of those vibrant or the seductive allure. His appearance had changed, now possessing a more masculine edge, though I recognized him instantly from the clarity in his eyes. He held me firmly as he stood, his gaze sharp as he glanced back at the man behind us. “Where are you taking Elara? Put her down! She is the lady of this house and must stay here to recover. She cannot go anywhere!” Adrian’s frantic shouts echoed behind us as he clung desperately to the man’s leg. But the master swiftly kicked him aside. Adrian, weakened by his excessive indulgence, struggled to stand, his face twisted in fury, yet unable to do anything.

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