Author: Momo Chan

My sister’s school was holding a charity sale. She came home clutching a love letter, holding it up like it was a priceless treasure she’d found. “Look, Summer!” she chirped, her eyes wide with excitement. “The name on this letter is just like yours!” I stared at the eight-year-old love letter and fell into a daze. The sender’s name at the bottom was Liam Scott. Wasn’t that my ice-cold deskmate from high school? And now, my ice-cold boss? I was about to ask Lexie for details when a call came through to our home phone. A kid’s frantic sobs erupted from the other end. “My Uncle Alex is going to kill me! I’ll give you a hundred dollars, just please give that love letter back!” Our entire team got chewed out because of an intern’s mistake. As team lead, I bore the brunt of the scolding. When I finally trudged out of the boss’s office, feeling completely deflated, my intern, Chloe, looked like she was about to burst into tears. “Ms. Summer, I’m so sorry. I dragged you down with me.” I saw the dark circles under her eyes. The workload had been intense lately, and our entire team had been working overtime. She hadn’t gotten any rest either. I waved a hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I’m used to getting yelled at. It barely stings anymore…” “Is that so?” A low, deep voice cut through the air. Chloe flinched, startled. My body tensed. I looked up to see Liam Scott pushing open his office door, his brow slightly furrowed as he watched me. Ugh… a stone-cold, unreadable face. Just looking at him made my blood boil. I forced a smile. “…No, it’s not.” Liam stared at me for a few seconds, then closed his office door. Later, when I stepped out to get some water, I overheard a few interns whispering: “The boss is so harsh on Director Summer.” “Director Summer must have a strong heart. If it were me, I couldn’t handle it.” “I heard Director Summer and the boss used to be high school classmates.” “Really? No way! The boss curses out his old classmate without holding back at all. He’s a monster!” I shrugged. Tell me about it. Liam Scott was, indeed, a monster. And he wasn’t just any high school classmate. We’d been deskmates for three whole years! Yet he still showed me zero mercy. I was about to leave when their conversation took a turn. “Oh, right, I heard the boss is engaged.” “I saw his fiancée drop him off at the company a while ago!” “What? The ice-cold Mr. Scott has a fiancée?” My steps faltered. My fingers, gripping my water cup, curled involuntarily. I looked towards the office at the end of the hallway. For some reason, my chest felt heavy and tight.

After a month of grueling work, the project finally made significant progress. The company gave us five days off. The interns were so excited they nearly cried. I politely declined their invitation for a celebratory dinner, packed my bags, and drove straight back to my hometown. I hadn’t been back in half a year. Luckily, my hometown was only about sixty miles from the city where I worked, a four-hour drive. It was late at night when I arrived home. My sudden return startled my mom, who happily went to make up my bed, while my dad hummed a tune as he headed to the kitchen to fix me a late-night snack. I put away my luggage and quietly pushed open the door to a small room. By the light from the living room, I saw a little girl buried under her covers, sleeping peacefully and adorably. Lexie was an unexpected blessing my parents had when I was in high school. Suddenly having such a young sister was a big adjustment at first. But as Lexie grew up, she became more and more adorable, inheriting my mom’s patience and my dad’s intelligence perfectly. And she was so clingy. She always thought of me first whenever she got something good. The next morning, I groggily opened my eyes at the sound of movement and saw Lexie perched by my bed. Her eyes were bright, staring at me without blinking. “Summer, you’re back!” “Yeah.” I closed my eyes again. “Be a good girl, Sis. I need to sleep a little longer.” “Okay! I’m going to school now. I’ll bring you a present when I get back!” I mumbled a reply. Lexie quietly tiptoed out, carefully closing the door behind her. This little kid, she’s so thoughtful. Looks like she has quite a bit of allowance, to be able to bring me a gift? I was a little excited. By the time I got up, it was almost 11 AM. Lexie was picked up from school by Dad. Mom and Dad asked me to watch her for a bit, then they went to the supermarket together. As soon as they left, Lexie eagerly pulled something out of her backpack and mysteriously scooted closer to me. “Summer, guess what gift I brought you?” How was I supposed to guess that? I was about to blurt out a random answer when she couldn’t hold back anymore, holding up an envelope in front of me. “Summer, look! Your name is written on it!” I froze for a moment, then took the letter. The paper was a bit yellowed, looking like it was from years ago. The front of the envelope read, “To Summer.” My name? What are the chances of finding someone with such an uncommon name? Lexie chattered on. “Our school held a charity sale today. We brought old stuff from home that we didn’t need anymore, and students could buy whatever they wanted. All the money we raise will be donated to a charity! “My deskmate brought a lot of stuff—old books, old stationery. I found this letter inside a book and bought it for five dollars.” Lexie looked at me, expecting praise. “Summer! Do you like it?”

My first thought was, it must be a coincidence. Growing up, I was never considered pretty in class. I always wore thick glasses and had an introverted, quiet personality. I never knew how to respond when others tried to talk to me. So, no boy had ever sent me a love letter. I held the letter, feeling a little flustered. But Lexie was already urging me. “Summer, open it quickly!” “That’s not right…” After all, it was someone else’s property. Especially something as private as a love letter. “But I worked so hard to find it, and it cost me a whole week’s allowance!” Kids are impatient. She snatched the letter from my hand and ripped it open in two swift motions. Then she shoved it back into my hand. “Summer, read it to me.” “My classmate said he got it from his Uncle Alex’s treasure chest, and it’s full of good stuff, so this must be good too.” I was about to refuse, but my gaze caught the signature at the end of the letter. The handwriting was neat and elegant—Liam Scott. It was like a lightning bolt striking my mind. I stood frozen for several seconds before my gaze stiffly moved upward to the contents of the letter: [Summer, this is our third year as deskmates…] I slapped my hand over the letter, my face turning crimson, feeling like it was about to explode. My sister was still urging, “Summer, read it! I want to hear it too!”

I sent my sister away, clutching the envelope, and rushed into my room. I opened the window and stood there, letting the wind blow over me for a long time, but my heart still wouldn’t settle. I looked at the letter again. I was absolutely certain it was written by Liam Scott. After all, my handwriting in high school looked like chicken scratch. My English teacher couldn’t stand it and made me use Liam’s homework as a model for my handwriting for an entire semester. I could recognize his handwriting even if it were burned to ashes. But, why? Why would Liam Scott have liked me in high school? My thoughts drifted, and I remembered the first time I met Liam at the beginning of freshman year. Back then, I came alone from a small, rural town to a top-ranked city high school. I was carrying an oversized, worn-out canvas bag that seemed to contain everything I owned. I couldn’t carry it anymore by the time I reached the school gate, so I just started dragging it. But I overestimated the quality of that canvas bag. With immense friction against the ground, the bag ripped. I walked a long way before realizing the weight felt off. I turned around to see my belongings scattered all along the path. Books, stationery, toiletries, a lunchbox… Students around me were watching, laughter constantly echoing. “Oh my god, a country bumpkin came to the city.” “That bag is something else, seriously.” My face turned beet red. I knelt down and started retracing my steps, picking things up. I hadn’t picked up much when I bumped head-on into a boy walking toward me. The boy had a backpack, a handsome face, and was quite tall. He was holding a stack of miscellaneous items and calmly said, “I picked up what was ahead.” He looked over my shoulder at the ripped bag on the ground. “Do you have any other bags?” I awkwardly shook my head, barely daring to look at him. He thought for a moment, took a few books out of his backpack, and handed the backpack to me. “You can use this for now.” Confused, I took the boy’s black backpack and looked up blankly. “How do I give it back to you?” The boy pointed to the book I had just picked up. “Aren’t you in Freshman Class 3 too?” I froze, instinctively looking at his book. His class and name were on the cover. Freshman Class 3, Liam Scott. … To be honest, I was the one who liked him first. Unfortunately, that secret crush ended for various reasons. After graduating from college, I joined a small, obscure company for an internship, only to unexpectedly run into him again.

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My fiancé and my own brother hated me for ten years. They firmly believed I’d bullied the sweet, innocent girl they adored. And on my engagement party, they exposed my so-called crimes to the world. “She’s nothing but a bully, a disgrace to her school!” In the live-streamed video, the innocent girl smiled through tears: “I don’t blame her anymore.” “But hey, bygones are bygones. I’m over it now.” She became an overnight sensation. I, however, was condemned by all, doused with acid by extreme fans, and in despair, I dragged her to hell with me. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my senior year of high school. The innocent girl was pouring water over her head, smiling as she asked me: “Have you figured out how you’re going to apologize to me?” I snapped right there. Grabbing her hair, I dragged her into the restroom, forcing her head into the toilet bowl: “Let me show you what real bullying looks like.” “Your mouth’s so dirty. Remember to wash it clean before you go tattling.”

My last memory of my previous life. It was the agonizing, near-death pain of sulfuric acid splashing into my eyes. Through the blurring vision and immense agony, I found Lily Adams, who was shielded behind my brother. Then I grabbed a cake knife, charged at her, and plunged it into her chest. “Let’s go to hell together!” … When I reopened my eyes. The remarkably clear sight before me made me freeze for two seconds. Until I saw a much younger Lily Adams not far away. She was wearing a faded school uniform, turning on a faucet and pouring water over her head. As she poured, she smiled and asked me, “Who do you think they’ll believe, me or you?” It clicked instantly. So, it was this day. The beginning of when I was labeled her bully in my previous life. Seeing me standing frozen, Lily’s smile deepened: “Have you thought about how you’re going to apologize to me, Miss Fancy Pants?—Ah!” All the old and new hatred surged through me. I charged forward, grabbed her hair, and dragged her into the restroom. Amidst her sudden, shrill scream, I shoved her entire face into the toilet bowl. “Just pouring some cold water on your head, and you think you can frame me? Here, let me personally teach you what real bullying is.” Lily thrashed wildly, her arms pumping like pistons, but she couldn’t break free from my grip. She could only keep her face buried in the murky water, her mouth making muffled sounds: “Scarlett Hayes, let me go… *gurgle*… *retch*—” I laughed maniacally, head thrown back: “Your mouth’s so dirty! Remember to wash it clean before you go tattling later!” Whether this was a trip back in time or a post-death hallucination. It didn’t matter. I had utterly lost it.

In my previous life, I died on the most glorious day of my career. That day, I’d just won my third Best Actress award. I was wearing a couture gown, standing beside my childhood sweetheart fiancé, Liam Davies, at our grand engagement party, which was live-streamed across the internet. Then he announced to everyone: “I would never get engaged to a disgrace who bullied her classmates in high school.” Before my disbelieving eyes. Lily Adams walked out from the audience. With tears in her eyes, she looked up and smiled: “Scarlett Hayes, do you remember me? It’s Lily Adams, the girl you bullied for ten years.” “You probably never imagined that one day I’d stand on equal footing with you.” “But it’s okay, I don’t blame you anymore.” “But hey, bygones are bygones. I’m over it now.” Live-streamed across the internet, she became an overnight sensation. Before I could even react, a swarm of reporters, arranged by my brother and Liam, rushed in and surrounded me. “Miss Hayes, we hear you still have a habit of bullying new people on set?” “Someone recently photographed you at the hospital for a gynecological visit. Was it due to an unsavory private life and a dirty disease?” An extreme fan burst from the crowd and splashed sulfuric acid onto my face: “Bitch, die!” The liquid splashed, and an overwhelming, searing pain clung to my face. My vision never cleared up again. Falling from heaven to hell happened in an instant.

Snapping back to reality, I released my grip. Watching Lily Adams collapse to the ground, her breath faint. That innocent, pure little face was now smeared with filth. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Cry, throw a fit, go tell the whole world I bullied you with that face—go on!” My voice abruptly rose at the end. Recalling the pain of my features dissolving from the acid in my past life, I stomped on her face twice more. Only then did I turn and leave. Downstairs from the school building, my desk mate, Chloe Miller, was waiting for me: “Gym class started ages ago, what were you doing upstairs?” I said casually, “Oh, just bullied a new transfer student.” She turned her head, shocked: “What?!” I replied, “A famous philosopher once said, ‘When the whole world thinks you’re a bully, you might as well really be one.’” “A philosopher… said that…?” “It doesn’t matter.” Chloe and I walked to the edge of the sports field, where we ran straight into Liam Davies. He wasn’t in my class. But everyone at school knew he was Scarlett Hayes’ childhood sweetheart boyfriend. Liam’s gaze slid across my face, then subtly, almost imperceptibly, landed behind me: “Scarlett, why are you so late? Oh, and I heard there’s a new transfer student in your class?” In my previous life, every time Lily Adams slandered me. He would always tell me to apologize to Lily, to just smooth things over. Seemingly on my side. But in reality, with just a few words, he sealed my fate as a bully. Thinking of this, I raised my hand without warning and slapped him. “?!” Chloe, standing beside me, was shocked again. Liam’s expression didn’t change, only his eyes briefly hardened, then he acted as if nothing had happened. He intimately leaned down, rubbing his cheek against mine: “What’s wrong, Scarlett? Are you in a bad mood?”

In my previous life, it was much later that I found out. When Liam Davies was a child, his mother abandoned him at an amusement park, and he was briefly taken in by an orphanage. There, he met a bright and cheerful little girl. She slept in the same bed as him and gave him a piece of candy. She was the only light in his life. This light was Lily Adams. And on her very first day transferring to our school, Liam recognized her. He always deeply believed Lily’s claims that I bullied her and hated me to the bone. Yet, constrained by his status as an illegitimate son, he had to swallow his pride and curry favor with me. Because he needed to secure his position in his family through an alliance with me. Thinking of this, I said, “Let’s break up.” His pupils suddenly constricted: “…Why? Give me a reason, Scarlett.” I pulled out a tissue and wiped my cheek where he had rubbed it, one slow wipe after another: “I don’t want to date the son of a homewrecker. It feels dirty. Is that reason enough?” After I left, Chloe Miller cautiously asked if I was possessed. I wasn’t surprised she asked that. Because in high school, I had loved Liam Davies so openly and intensely.

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Scarlett had strung me along for seven years. Then she said she was bored and went after a younger, more handsome college guy. This time, I didn’t make a scene. I tossed the diamond ring I’d bought for her and cut up the wedding dress I’d picked out. Late that night, I boarded a plane and left NYC. Her friends were all placing bets on how long it would take for me to crawl back. Scarlett just smiled, arrogant as ever: “Alex will be back begging like a dog in less than a day.” But day after day passed, and I remained out of touch. She couldn’t sit still anymore and called my phone: “Alex, had enough fun? Come back…” A soft, shy female voice cut her off: “Ms. Reed, you should apologize early, or someone else will snatch him away.” Scarlett gripped her phone, her voice trembling: “Who is this? Let Alex take the call!” Serena leaned in and kissed me: “He can’t. He needs his rest. If it’s important, you’ll have to wait for me to kiss him awake.” It was my seventh year with Scarlett. I’d bought a diamond ring and her favorite wedding dress, mustering up the courage to propose. But bad luck, I arrived a few minutes late to the party that day. Just in time to overhear her chatting with her friends. “Alex? Oh, that guy’s so predictable. I got bored ages ago.” Scarlett sipped her red wine, a haughty smile on her face: “Seven years. Wouldn’t you be tired of it?” Her friends all burst into laughter: “You’ve got a point. Seven years, even the hottest guy would lose his flavor.” “But Alex really is handsome.” “And his body’s great too. At Scarlett’s birthday last time, he wore a full black suit, looked even better than those movie stars!” “Seriously, Scarlett, you used to be so obsessed with him. Can you really let him go?” Scarlett’s voice was flat: “Have I ever lied?” Her friend immediately changed tack: “Then… if I went after Alex, you wouldn’t mind, right?” “Go for it,” Scarlett took another sip of wine, speaking slowly. “As long as you’re not grossed out.” “Seriously? Aren’t you ashamed? Taking her sloppy seconds, someone Scarlett’s already bored with?” Another wave of laughter. I didn’t go into the private room that night. I made up an excuse and went home early. Scarlett hung up the phone without asking a single question. I guess that night, my burning heart finally died out.

Within a couple of days, the gossip started flying around our social circle. Scarlett was seeing a sophomore college guy. Maybe he was sheltered, but faced with money and vanity, the guy fell for it in no time. At a friend’s gathering, Scarlett showed up with him. The moment they walked in, everyone went quiet. A few of my closer friends looked at me with concern. I smiled. “Why’s everyone so quiet? What are you looking at me for?” Scarlett wrapped an arm around the guy and sat down, then finally looked at me directly: “Alex, today’s a good chance, so I’ll just lay it all out.” “Okay, go ahead.” “These years of breaking up and getting back together have been meaningless. The feelings faded long ago.” I clenched my hand tightly, the ring hidden in my palm digging deep into my skin. But I couldn’t feel the pain. “You’re not as young as him, and not as cheerful. I truly like him.” Scarlett held the guy’s hand, her eyes full of affection. I nodded lightly: “Okay, I get it.” “We can still be friends in the future. If you need anything, you can always find me.” “No thanks.” I chuckled softly and stood up: “Since we’ve broken up, let’s make it a clean break. Save people from getting the wrong idea.” Scarlett raised an eyebrow, surprised, then after a moment, said: “Fair enough.” “Then you guys can hang out. I’ll head back.” “Want me to walk you out?” “No need, I’ll just take a taxi.” As I walked out of the room and closed the door, I heard someone ask, “How long do you think Alex will last this time?” “Two days?” “He seems genuinely angry this time. I’ll bet five days.” Scarlett glanced at the door, which wasn’t fully closed, and smiled dismissively: “Alex will definitely come back like a dog in less than three days.” “Hasn’t it always been like this for years?” The people inside chimed in: “True, how could Alex leave you? Everyone knows he loves you like crazy…” I gave a self-deprecating laugh and hurried towards the elevator.

Back at my apartment, I pulled out the wedding dress she had always loved. And simply cut it up. After all, keeping it here would only be an eyesore for Scarlett. When I finally left, I thought for a moment and left her a note. This apartment and everything in it was hers to dispose of as she pleased, no need to ask me. I booked a red-eye flight, leaving NYC behind and returning to that familiar city.

My buddy, Jake, got the word and threw a gathering that night. It was all old classmates and friends. A few rounds in, the door opened again. A couple of guys immediately brightened: “Serena? You’re a rare sight!” “Yeah, Ms. Serena, what brings you here tonight?” Serena’s cheeks were slightly flushed. “I was just doing some business next door, heard about the old classmates gathering, so I came to join the fun.” As she spoke, her gaze lingered on me for a moment before slowly moving away. Jake nudged me quietly: “Alex, Serena’s here for you, isn’t she?” I forced myself to look at her. She was a little taller than Scarlett, and had a better figure. I squinted for a bit, then looked away and shook my head: “No way. We haven’t kept in touch for years.” But Jake ignored me and called out to Serena directly: “Hey, campus queen, could you give Alex a ride later?” “We’ve all been drinking, and we don’t want him to get ripped off by a ride-share.” Serena’s gaze crossed over everyone and landed on my face. After about two seconds, I saw her nod: “Okay.” “Thanks, campus queen.” Jake sat down with a grin and whispered to me: “Alex, why should Scarlett be able to play the field, but you can’t have a second chance at love?” “Besides, a beauty like Serena, it’d be a crime not to go for it.” “How do you know she’d be interested in me?” Jake gave a mischievous grin: “The way she looked at you just now, it was like she wanted to devour you!” “Trust my experience, man.” 4 The gathering ended, and Serena drove me back to my hotel. When we arrived downstairs, I unbuckled my seatbelt, And thanked her: “Thanks for the ride tonight.”

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To bring an end to the brutal war, I volunteered to become a peace bride, marrying Kael, the formidable chieftain of the Wolfen Clans, my childhood companion. Kael, a whirlwind of raw power, pinned me to the open plains. For three days and three nights, he took me until I faded into unconsciousness. I truly believed Kael loved me. But later, it was *he* who led a hundred thousand beast warriors, their iron hooves trampling through the heart of Aethelgard. He forced my head back, making me watch in horror: my King, torn apart by the wolves until his head was gone. My brother, the Crown Prince, cut down, his body trampled into unrecognizable pulp beneath their horses. Those savages even stripped my Queen Mother bare, shaming her until blood streamed from her legs… Kael smiled at me, yet his eyes held no trace of emotion: “Lyra, did you truly believe your beauty, magnificent enough to topple kingdoms, could ever capture my heart?” “Your royal family slaughtered countless of my kin. You offer only yourself in return, yet you dare to dream of erasing this ocean of blood and vengeance!” In the end, Kael united the lands, and he had his beloved Queen. He locked me away in the forgotten chambers, stripped of my title and my very name. Every time I tried to end my life, he’d exhume a corpse from the royal crypts and grind their bones to dust before me. “You will not die without my command!” I stopped struggling. Anyway, there were only three days left until the potent poison, which I had consumed years ago to save him, finally claimed my life. *** Lena’s birthday feast. Kael granted me a rare reprieve from my solitary prison. My eyes burned as I watched the woman on the high platform, adorned with an ornate, feathered circlet – a sacred relic of my Queen Mother. “Impudent wretch! Bow before His Majesty and the Queen!” Someone brutally kicked me. My knees slammed against the stone floor, my forehead touching the ground as I numbly performed a deep bow. Kael didn’t let me rise, his face expressionless: “Lyra, you’re late by a good fifteen minutes. Are you deliberately trying to disrespect Lena?” “This slave deserves death.” I knocked my head against the floor again. I didn’t bother explaining that my legs were weakened, and walking all the way from my secluded chambers would take at least a couple of hours. Kael’s face twisted into a sneer. “You’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?” The last time I disobeyed, he’d locked me in a beast cage and bled me half-dry to quench the thirst of his monstrous hounds. When I was on the brink of death, he’d then order his men to scour the lands for the rarest herbs and potent elixirs, barely clinging to my life. “My dear sister, please rise. You were once a princess, precious as a gem. Even with your kingdom fallen, why do you still act like a lowly servant?” Lena herself helped me up, her words dripping with false kindness, twisting the knife deep into my most painful wound. She spotted the wolf fang bracelet coiled around my wrist, and a flicker of covetousness crossed her eyes. She said she adored it and wanted it as a birthday gift. I glanced at Kael. He showed no reaction. This was a gift from Kael himself, an ancient heirloom of his clan. Each fang was said to be a potent remedy, carrying a unique, enduring scent that never faded. 2. Long-term wear was believed to soothe pain and extend one’s lifespan. I’d always been frail since childhood, and when he gave it to me, he’d wished for my lifelong peace and health. “If Her Majesty desires it, how could this slave refuse?” I removed it from my wrist and placed it into Lena’s outstretched hand. As I withdrew my gaze, I faintly heard the sound of a spilled goblet from the high platform. Lena toyed with the wolf fang bracelet, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. “Oh, right, I recall you were once famed as ‘Aethelgard’s Enchantress,’ weren’t you? Why don’t you grace us with a performance?” I numbly endured the malicious, spectating gazes from across the banquet hall. There were commanders from the Wolfen Clans. And also the traitors who, from within, had opened Aethelgard’s city gates. But I had no right to refuse. A bowl of steaming broth, just served, splashed over me. It scalded my skin instantly, peeling it back. “What are you standing there for, dumbstruck? A fallen royal, still daring to act like a spoiled princess? You’re lucky to be breathing, don’t push your luck!” As if I felt no pain, I rose on my tiptoes. I transformed myself into a dancer, a plaything for their amusement. The Wolfen Clans had an open, wild culture, and those barbarians still weren’t satisfied. They cheered, urging me to strip. Kael’s gaze, cold and dark, lingered on me from afar. It was his silent permission. I bit my lip, then began to unfasten my belt. My clothes, clinging to my scalded skin, ripped as I tore them off, leaving raw, bleeding patches. Piece by piece, I undressed in this very Throne Room, a place filled with countless beautiful memories of my past. Tears finally fell. Only when the banquet ended was I permitted to stop. Kael walked towards me, reeking of wine. His icy fingertips brushed against the damp streaks on my face, wiping away a single tear. But his voice was utterly devoid of feeling: “Lyra, are you deliberately trying to play for pity in front of me?” “This slave… wouldn’t dare.” But as the words left my lips, my old ailment flared up again. I coughed up blood right in front of him, feeling as though my entire insides were being torn out. Kael recoiled in disgust, his sneer deepening. “I’ve seen this sickly, pathetic state of yours for ten years. Haven’t you had enough of pretending?” I once believed he despised the women of the Central Kingdoms, hated my delicate nature and my weakness. Yet, for Lena, he was endlessly devoted. Lena would just lightly frown, and the royal healers would already be waiting at her door, ready to drop everything. The parasites gnawed at me. My body trembled, cold sweat pouring from my forehead. Before I lost consciousness, I thought I saw a flicker of panic in Kael’s eyes. He gritted his teeth, his voice a low growl: “Lyra, I won’t let you die easily. You will live, and you will atone!” But I couldn’t atone anymore… In two more days, I would surely die. The next morning, I woke up to find my burns had been treated. 3. I vaguely realized this wasn’t my solitary prison, but the King’s royal chambers. I remembered when my King was still alive, he often held my brother and me in this very room, teaching us to read and write. My Queen Mother would bring me warm, fragrant honey cakes she’d baked herself. But I couldn’t even recall their taste anymore. “You’re awake.” Kael approached, his face expressionless. He gripped my jaw, pouring a bowl of incredibly bitter blood-tonic medicine down my throat. His strength was immense. I choked, my eyes stinging red. “Lyra, don’t look at me with such pitiful eyes.” Kael sneered. “Even if your hands are clean, unstained by my kin’s blood, as long as you were born into that royal family, you are not innocent.” The day our kingdom fell, he slaughtered every last royal bloodline of the former regime. Even the fully formed child in my womb, his own flesh and blood, he did not spare. Only I was left alive. I didn’t understand… was this love, or hatred? It must be hatred. That’s why he later made me soak night after night in freezing, potent herbal baths, designed to steal away my ability to bear children. He wanted me to be completely barren. He didn’t want me to bear his children. He despised me, my lineage tainted. I wiped the medicine from the corner of my mouth. Before I could speak, a joyous shout came from outside. “Your Majesty! The royal healers have confirmed Her Majesty Lena is with child!” Kael’s expression froze, then his voice filled with excitement: “Are you serious? Lena is pregnant?” My gaze was distant, watching the joy of a new father spread across his face. Perhaps the parasites began gnawing again, for my hand instinctively clutched my chest. It hurt so much. I had intended to die alone in my desolate prison when the poison finally took hold. But Kael, of all times, sent me to attend to Lena now. He knew exactly how to inflict the cruelest torment upon me. A swift death would have been merciful. Instead, he wanted me to witness, with my own eyes, other women bearing his children. While our own child, whom he’d personally ripped from my womb, lay buried on the back hill, a lone, unmarked grave, not even a simple headstone. Lena smiled at me, a soft, saccharine smile. “You, born of nobility, my dear sister, His Majesty asks you to serve me, but I couldn’t possibly make you do menial tasks. Just clean up the fallen petals in the front courtyard.” I picked up the broom, looking at the courtyard blanketed in peach blossoms. Other palace maids openly rolled their eyes at me, their voices filled with disdain. “A princess from the fallen regime, she’s lucky to be left to rot in her cold palace. Only our Queen is kind enough to call her ‘sister.’” “Noble born? Ha! She’s clearly lower than the cheapest concubine, utterly despised by His Majesty. If I were her, I wouldn’t have the audacity to cling to life so shamelessly.” Red rashes slowly began to appear on my skin. I gasped for breath, and suddenly felt a warm liquid trickling from my nose. I reached up, touching it, and froze. “Ah!” 4. Lena saw the blood covering my face and was instantly overcome with feigned shock. When Kael rushed in, he slapped me without a word, his force so great it sent me sprawling to the ground, scattering a flurry of peach petals. I began to cough.

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Our dream home, months in the making, was finally ready. Owen, completely ignoring my glare, insisted on letting his drunken childhood best friend stay the night. His excuse? She had nowhere else to go. He couldn’t just leave her on the street. The moment his best friend, Harper, sprawled across *our* wedding bed, I told him the wedding was off. “Clara, can you stop overreacting for once?” “Are you really going to cancel the wedding?” I looked at him. “Yes, I am. Cancel it.” “There’s no point in us lying to ourselves anymore. This is over.” I stood at the bedroom doorway, my fingers digging into the doorframe, knuckles white. Owen’s childhood best friend was lying on the wedding bed I had carefully chosen. She was wearing a dark blue silk pajama set, the one I’d bought for our honeymoon. Our initials were even embroidered on the cuffs. And now, it hung loosely on another woman’s body. Owen stood beside the bed, his hair a mess, his pajama collar askew, like he’d just been… tangled with. “What’s with that face? Harper drank too much last night, she had nowhere to go. I couldn’t just leave her on the street, could I?” I didn’t speak, my gaze shifting from his face to the bed. Harper looked like she’d just woken up, rubbing her forehead as she sat up. Her voice dripped with fake apology: “Clara, I’m so sorry, I totally blacked out last night… Did I do anything out of line?” Her mouth mumbled apologies, but her eyes flicked past me to Owen, a smirk playing on her lips, a clear hint of triumph. I stared at her, my voice chillingly cold. “Out of line? Like lying on my wedding bed, wearing my bridal pajamas?” Owen’s face darkened, and he cut me off. “She just borrowed them! Do you have to be so dramatic?” His voice rose, laced with sharp anger. “We’ve been planning this wedding for half a year, and you’re going to cancel it over something so small?” I didn’t rush to argue. Instead, I pulled out my phone from my pocket, swiped a few times on the screen, and handed it to him. “These are your SnapChat messages from the past three months.” My voice was ice-cold, a quiet menace beneath the surface. “You went out seventeen times in total. Every single time, the excuse was ‘helping Harper with her relationship problems.’” Owen’s face twitched, but he quickly jutted out his chin. “So what? She got dumped. As her best friend, am I not allowed to comfort her?” “And you had to stay out all night, every single time?” I stared him down. “Last Friday, I left work early. I saw her in your car, and your hand was on her *thigh*.” A flicker of panic crossed Owen’s eyes. “That was an accident! I just bumped her!” “An accident?” A humorless laugh escaped me. “Then why did you immediately drive away, looking so nervous in your rearview mirror?” Owen’s breath hitched, and his fingers unconsciously tightened on the hem of his pajamas. Harper conveniently cut in, her voice dripping with feigned distress. “Clara, you’ve really misunderstood. Owen and I have been friends for over twenty years, how could we ever…” “Twenty years?” I cut her off, my gaze sharp. “But the way you look at him, it’s never been like a friend.” Harper chose that moment to throw off the covers and get out of bed. The hem of the dark blue silk pajamas brushed the sheets, leaving a fresh wrinkle. She stood barefoot on the floor, her back deliberately straightened, a hidden boast in her posture. “Clara, please don’t be mad. I’ll leave right away. I won’t bother you two anymore.” “Stop.” I stepped aside, blocking the doorway, my face icy. “Take off the pajamas.” Owen shrieked. “Clara! Are you crazy? What do you expect her to wear if she takes them off?!” “That’s her problem.” I stared directly into Harper’s eyes. “My things, once tainted, are fit for the trash. They’re definitely not for someone else’s body.” Harper’s face instantly flushed a mottled red. Her clenched fingers went white, and she gasped for air, but she didn’t dare meet my gaze. Owen suddenly lunged, grabbing my shoulders, his nails digging into my skin. “What do you want? Are you really going to burn everything down over a pair of pajamas?”

“Ha…” I let out a cold laugh, shrugged him off, and walked out of the room. The early autumn night wind carried a chill. I stood under a streetlamp, slowly, almost deliberately, pulling my wind-blown collar tighter. My fingertips traced the cold fabric, each movement slow and deliberate, as if I was fighting with myself. Harper reeked of Owen’s cologne. Our wedding bed was a mess because of them, and he was still defending her. “Clara!” The sound of his dress shoes rapidly approached. I turned back to see Owen standing a few steps away. He stood there in the cold wind, his shoulders trembling slightly, his chest heaving, as if he’d just run a long distance. “Let’s talk,” his voice softened. I let out a long breath, saying nothing. He walked closer, his hand suddenly gripping my arm tightly, as if afraid I’d shake him off. “There’s really nothing going on between Harper and me,” he said, his voice low, almost pleading. “She was just drunk. I couldn’t just leave her…” “Drunk?” I scoffed. “So drunk she can lie on our wedding bed? So drunk she can make you stay out all night? So drunk she can—” I yanked my arm away, pressing my thumb hard into the skin on his inner wrist—there was a faint bruise there, like someone had gripped him tightly. His eyes flickered, and he instinctively tried to pull his hand back, but I held firm. “Was this an ‘accident’ too?” His face shifted, and then he pulled away, his voice suddenly rough. “Are you ever going to let this go?!” He took a deep breath, as if trying to keep calm. “You’re going to cancel our wedding just because of a misunderstanding? We’ve been together for three years. Do you really trust me so little? Besides, she’s already gone home!” “Misunderstanding?” I stared into his eyes. “Alright, prove it to me.” “Block Harper now. Delete all her contacts. Don’t see her again.” His expression froze. “No way,” he blurted out almost instantly. “She’s my most important friend. We’ve known each other for twenty years. You want me to just cut her off?” “Most important friend?” I forced a smile. “More important than your fiancée?” He opened his mouth, but before he could speak, his phone suddenly rang. He glanced down at the screen, and his face instantly changed—it was Harper. “Hello? Harper? What’s wrong?” He answered the phone, his worry barely hidden. Harper’s faint, dramatically pained groans trickled through the phone. “Owen… I fell… My head’s spinning…” “Don’t move! I’m coming right now!” He hung up, turning to leave. I grabbed him. “Owen.” My voice was as cold as ice. “If you go to her today, we are completely over.” He stopped, turning back to look at me, his eyes filled with struggle. Three seconds. Five seconds. “I’m sorry…” he finally murmured, then added, “I’ll be right back.” He ran toward the road without a backward glance, hailing a taxi. The moment the car door closed, I pulled out my phone and dialed the wedding planning company. “Hello, Mr. Thompson? Yes, it’s Clara Ruan.” I stared at the disappearing taxi, my voice terrifyingly calm. “Cancel all wedding arrangements. I’ll still pay the full fee.” The night wind swirled fallen leaves around my feet. I stood under the streetlamp, watching my shadow stretch long, long, across the pavement.

Owen never came back after he left. It wasn’t until 2 AM that I saw Harper’s Ins story. In the photo, she was half-undressed, curled up in a man’s arms. A shadow obscured half the man’s face, but his build was all too familiar. That Ins story was like a dull blade, slowly slicing through my nerves. I gripped my phone tightly, my fingers trembling. Just then, my company called, saying there was an urgent project requiring me to travel abroad for a week. I agreed with almost no hesitation. Getting away from here, even temporarily, was better than staring at an empty room, lost in my own thoughts. Before boarding, my phone vibrated. An audio file from an unknown number. I tapped it. The next second, Harper’s voice spilled from the receiver. Moans, mixed with a man’s low gasps. I slammed my screen off, but those sounds had already taken root in my mind. I switched off my phone for the flight. When the plane landed, I turned it back on. Dozens of missed calls popped up on the screen, all from Owen. I scoffed, ignoring them. But a moment later, his call came through again. “Why did you leave without saying anything?” His voice was accusatory, with a hint of an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “I thought you already made that clear?” My voice was calm. “Clear about what?” He paused for a second. “Just because I went to Harper?” “Didn’t you two have fun? Do you even have time to think about me?” I sneered. “Clara, you’ve misunderstood. She was already drunk, and I was worried something would happen to her.” “I’m her best friend, I couldn’t just leave her!” Owen was still trying to explain on the phone. “Good enough to roll around in bed together? Owen, we’re done.” I hung up the phone, then forwarded that audio file to him. For the next few minutes, my phone vibrated nonstop. **[It’s not what you think!]** **[Let me explain!]** **[That audio is fake! Someone’s trying to frame me!]** I didn’t reply to a single one. Soon enough, his tone changed. **[Fine. If you don’t trust me, then there’s nothing more to say.]** **[Hope you don’t regret this!]** I blocked him directly. A week later, I dragged my suitcase back home. The moment I inserted the key into the lock, I heard a rustling sound from inside, followed by low laughter. I pushed the door open. In the living room, clothes were scattered everywhere. On the sofa, Harper was wrapped around Owen, both of them disheveled, her lipstick smeared on his collarbone. The air solidified. Owen jerked upright, his face pale. “You… you’re back?” I stood in the doorway and slowly smiled. “Looks like I’m back at just the right time.” Harper was wearing my bathrobe, my slippers on her feet, and holding my whiskey glass. The amber liquid swirled in the light. She grinned at me, a deliberate display of triumph.

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For seven years, I lived under a different name overseas. Now, to celebrate my sister’s graduation, I secretly came back home. I went straight to the Art Authentication Gallery where she was interning, only to find the three prospective fiancés I’d arranged for her years ago, sneering and mocking her. “You ungrateful brat, you’re nothing but trouble! Stealing Serena’s clients was bad enough, but how dare you accuse her of stealing artifacts?” “You’re such a lowlife, no one would touch you even if you were naked on the streets!” “Serena comes from a respectable family, unlike you. A commoner like you shouldn’t dream of marrying into our league!” Behind the three men, Serena Vance stood, tears streaming down her face, looking utterly wronged. “I treated you like a sister, and yet you slander me like this…” The crowd around them pointed and whispered, their judgment heavy in the air. After returning home, I’d planned to surprise my sister at her internship and scout the local antique market for future investments. But no sooner had I stepped into the firm’s showroom than I walked straight into this drama. My sister, Chloe Adams, was being openly ridiculed by the onlookers. Some even thrust their phones in her face, recording short videos. Her face was pale, and beneath her feet lay an ancient painting, covered in muddy footprints. The three men leading the charge were the prospective fiancés I’d chosen for her before I left the country: Brandon Hayes, Kyle Jensen, and Liam O’Connell. All of them were either rich or well-connected. Beside them, Serena Vance sobbed uncontrollably, pouring out her grievances. The three prospective fiancés launched into Chloe, one after another: “Chloe Adams, you better explain yourself!” “You secretly took a five-million-dollar appraisal fee, then swapped the original, and now you’re trying to deny it?” As he spoke, one of them pulled out a voice recorder. The next second, an edited recording played through the speakers. “The money’s in your account, the goods are yours.” It was a woman’s voice, and if you listened closely, it sounded exactly like Chloe’s. Then he pulled up a transfer screenshot, clearly showing “Five Million Dollars.” Instantly, the crowd erupted, whispering and loudly accusing my sister. “You pocketed the appraisal fee AND stole the painting? Talk about being greedy and shameless! How low can you get?” “Using such tactics in an appraisal firm is utterly despicable!” “Who knows? With all this evidence, how can she possibly deny it?!” Chloe clutched the hem of her shirt, biting her lip, her face a mask of humiliation. “I didn’t do it, this is slander…” Before she could finish, Serena burst into even louder sobs. “If I’m making this up, everyone is welcome to check! This authentic Tang Palace Lady painting is a genuine piece worth eight million dollars, and now it’s a fake! She was the only one who appraised it; isn’t it obvious she swapped it?!” The onlookers even raised their phones, live-streaming the scene. My eyes narrowed. I spotted a tiny, almost invisible mark on the edge of the painting. That was the Vance family’s signature forgery technique. Only an expert would notice it. It suddenly clicked. The girl standing there was Serena Vance, the daughter of our next-door neighbors. Years ago, my family owned a vast collection, which made our rivals jealous. They conspired against my parents, setting a trap that ultimately led to their deaths. To survive, I sold off all our family assets for a pittance and went into hiding overseas, living completely off the grid. Before leaving, I had to entrust my sister to the Vance family as their foster daughter, and arranged for the sons of three families we’d been close to for generations – the Hayes, Jensens, and O’Connells – to look after her. But judging by what I was seeing now, was this how they “looked after” my sister? I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Get the owner of this appraisal firm here, now!” “Tsk tsk tsk, you think just holding a magnifying glass and waving it around makes you an appraiser? You’re nothing but a charlatan!” Brandon Hayes sneered, grabbing the magnifying glass Chloe had used and tossing it into a trash can. Chloe gritted her teeth, tears welling in her eyes. Seeing this, Brandon seemed to think it wasn’t dramatic enough. He turned to the operating desk. “Since the painting can’t be appraised now, why don’t we look at something more interesting instead?” Before he finished speaking, he tapped a few keys on the computer, and a set of high-definition pictures popped up on the large screen. They were explicit photos of my sister in the shower! The scene immediately exploded into chaos, mixed with crude jokes and cheers. “Holy hell, this is way better than any old painting!” “If I could sleep with her for a night, that’d be incredible!” Brandon Hayes remained unruffled, speaking slowly. “Chloe Adams, since you like stealing things and playing risky games, you won’t mind if everyone else gets a thrill, right?” Someone whistled, others started taking pictures, and the situation quickly spiraled out of control. My fists clenched instinctively, my knuckles turning white. I remembered Brandon Hayes was the one Chloe liked most when they were kids. I turned and called my assistant, instructing him to immediately investigate what was going on. “Brandon Hayes, didn’t you say you’d marry me if we had a child? Are you trying to ruin me now?!” Chloe’s voice trembled as she asked. Brandon laughed wildly, a cruel, mocking glint in his eyes. “You actually believe what a guy says in bed? Who knows how many men you’ve slept with?” Chloe was trembling with rage. “You bastard! What exactly do you want?!” she screamed. “Simple. Transfer five million dollars back to the Vance family’s account, and publicly admit you swapped the painting and faked the appraisal. Do that, and I’ll take the photos down immediately. Otherwise, I’ll add another one every minute.”

“Wow, how exciting! Can’t wait!” “From what Chloe said, Brandon actually slept with her. Who does she think she is, trying to marry into the Hayes family?” “I heard Chloe is just a foster kid the Vances took in, but she actually dared to scheme against their real daughter?” “I heard she even tried to steal Serena’s boyfriends. Everyone knows those three guys are crazy about Serena.” But before the crowd could finish gossiping, my sister’s photos suddenly flooded the Antique Exchange SnapChat group. My phone buzzed relentlessly, flooded with vile, malicious gossip and rumors. “Brandon Hayes, have you lost your mind?!” Chloe’s eyes turned red. “Chloe Adams, if you want to stay in this industry, get on your knees and apologize to Serena right now, plus five million in compensation. Otherwise, I’ll post all these photos online! If you don’t care about the shame, keep refusing…” Chloe lowered her head, but then, after a long moment, she looked up, surprisingly calm. “Apologize? You’re dreaming. I have evidence that Serena was the one who swapped the painting. As for compensation, there’s no telling who will be paying whom.” “Ha, evidence? If you really had evidence, you would’ve shown it already. Why would your appraisal qualifications almost be revoked? Stop acting, Chloe Adams, stop deluding yourself.” The onlookers chimed in, enjoying the show. “Yeah, if you’ve got proof, spill it, don’t just run your mouth.” Chloe ignored them, only letting out a cold laugh. “Since we’re talking about compensation, Serena Vance, you’ve pulled off countless switcheroos like this before! If you had to pay for all of them, you’d be bankrupt a hundred times over!” The atmosphere went strangely silent for a few seconds. Brandon Hayes was the first to speak, his voice filled with sympathy and indignation. “Chloe Adams, you’re being far too aggressive! Serena is older than you, she’s your sister! How can you make such baseless accusations?!” But his words only fueled Chloe’s anger. She was trembling. “Brandon Hayes, I must have been blind to ever like a beast like you!” “Chloe, don’t misunderstand. I’m just being objective. If you can provide evidence, of course I’ll help you.” Chloe’s face went pale, and her voice trembled. “Brandon Hayes, considering our families have been close for generations, can’t you… not be so cruel?” “Of course…” He drawled playfully, then paused, changing his tone. “Besides the photos, I have videos too. Does everyone want to see them?” The crowd instantly erupted. “Yes! She’s got a great body!” At this moment, my assistant, Ryan, who had been investigating the authenticity of the photos, reported quietly: “Ms. Sterling, we checked the photos. No tampering, they’re original uploads.” “How did Chloe get these kinds of photos?” “Brandon Hayes is behind it. He didn’t just trick Miss Adams; I heard he’s brought dozens of young women to his bed. The guy’s a total playboy, he must have countless explicit photos.” Ryan’s face was grim as he cursed under his breath. I took a deep breath and asked, “Has the appraisal firm owner arrived?” “Still on the way.” “Add this: if he’s not here within ten minutes, I’ll smash everything in this place!” “Understood. I’ll relay that immediately.” The crowd continued to buzz, all eyes on Chloe Adams and Serena Vance, waiting for the next round of drama. “I can overlook the things you’ve stolen before, but this painting isn’t something your Vance family can touch. It was part of my family’s collection, and my sister will definitely come back to claim it.” The moment Chloe finished speaking, Brandon Hayes and the others burst into laughter. “You’re trying to make me die laughing! Your sister abandoned you and fled overseas years ago; by now, she’s probably dead in some ditch.” “Even if she’s alive, it’s been so long, and she hasn’t come looking for you. She’s probably too poor to survive, much less come back for you, hahaha.” Chloe’s eyes flashed with fierce light as she glared at them. “You don’t need to worry about whether my sister’s alive, but if you don’t hand over that painting, I’ll give the police evidence of all the things you’ve stolen before!” Serena Vance’s face instantly twisted into an ugly mask, but she still puffed out her neck and shrieked: “Chloe Adams, I haven’t done anything! You’re clearly slandering me now!” Just then, a portly, greasy middle-aged man pushed through the crowd and strode in. “What’s all this racket about? Disperse, now!”

“Mr. Davies, please, you’re the manager, tell us, isn’t it Chloe Adams who’s behind this artifact theft and swap?” Serena Vance called out to the man. Mr. Davies’ face immediately stiffened, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. “Mr. Davies, just tell the truth…” Serena Vance whispered something to him, and he finally nodded in agreement, speaking up: “Indeed… Chloe Adams did swap the ancient painting. There are major loopholes in the appraisal firm’s management, and we will handle this with the utmost severity!” At that moment, the crowd erupted in an uproar, low murmurs spreading like wildfire. “Mr. Davies, you’re talking nonsense! I absolutely did not…” Chloe’s voice was firm and clear. Serena Vance’s lips curled into a sneer as she slowly approached. “Chloe Adams, if you’re still going to be stubborn, why don’t we search you? Everyone here knows you’re the prime suspect!” As soon as she spoke, the three men beside her snickered. Kyle Jensen tutted. “Since Chloe Adams is a suspect, why don’t we search her publicly? Let’s see if she’s hiding the ancient painting on her person?” The surrounding crowd clamored, “Yeah! She claims she has evidence but can’t produce it. If she’s so brave, let us search her!” Chloe, furious, retorted, “Serena Vance, if you’re not convinced, let’s sign a gambling agreement. Whoever is proven to have swapped the artifact will pay the other ten million. Do you dare?” After she spoke, Brandon Hayes sneered, “Oh? You dare to gamble? So you’re that rich? Well, use that ten million to get your photos back! Otherwise, I’ll publish them one by one online and let the whole world see your explicit pictures.” A female colleague added fuel to the fire, “Manager, we have eyewitnesses and physical evidence right here. You must stand up for Serena!” Mr. Davies’ face was ashen. After hesitating for half a minute, he said coldly, “Chloe Adams, the evidence is strongly against you now. If you admit it, you might get a lighter sentence.” Suddenly, all eyes fell on my sister. Some people were already eager to approach her. Chloe’s face was pale, and she retreated two steps. “You… don’t come any closer!” Serena Vance sharply interjected from the side: “Chloe Adams, I saw you sneaking around last night. If you’re innocent, are you willing to let an expert publicly search your clothes?” Kyle Jensen also spoke up for her, “How about this, you strip down and let us inspect you. If you’re innocent in the end, we’ll call it even. But if it’s confirmed you stole something, all your assets will belong to me.” Chloe scoffed, a look of disdain on her face. “Serena Vance, since we’re making a bet, let’s be clear upfront. All my assets as your stake is fine, but you should reciprocate fairly. Your total shares in the Vance Group are only 5%, which probably isn’t enough, is it?”

Brandon Hayes’ lips curved into a smile. “My three art galleries operate with top museums across multiple countries. Their market value alone leaves you in the dust.” Kyle Jensen and Liam O’Connell quickly chimed in. “My Jensen family’s malls are also on the line.” “And my O’Connell family’s villas as well!” Brandon Hayes proudly spoke again, “Don’t forget, Chloe Adams, I still have those photos of you. If I win today, this wager, at the very least, needs to double.” The crowd whispered amongst themselves, full of taunts and eager anticipation for the show. Serena Vance sneered, bending down close to Chloe Adams’ ear, whispering provocatively, “What, Chloe Adams, chicken out? If you admit you’re incapable now, it’s not too late. Be obedient, sign the voluntary transfer agreement, then kneel and kowtow three times to me, and today’s matter will be over. Maybe you can even keep some dignity.” My sister clenched her fists, her nails digging hard into her palms. A moment later, she pulled out a red file and let out a cold laugh. “One last chance. Do you still want to bet?” Brandon Hayes stretched his neck, staring intently at the file. The surrounding whispers suddenly erupted: “Isn’t that… a Judicial Appraisal Center’s evidence collection order?!” “Seriously? How does Chloe Adams have that kind of authority?” Someone questioned. “She’s probably just trying to scare people with a fake document, even resorting to this?” Serena Vance chuckled without humor. “Don’t you dare pretend you have any authority with some flimsy piece of paper. What can a crumpled piece of paper prove?” With that, she raised her hand and slapped my sister across the face. Chloe stumbled and fell to the ground. I quickly rushed forward to help her up. Chloe recognized me and was about to call me “sister,” but I stopped her with a glance. Serena Vance, however, laughed mockingly from behind me. “Oh! Look who it is! Isn’t this Chloe Adams’ useless sister who’s been fooling around somewhere unknown?” My eyes coldly swept over them. I sneered, “You’ve got a lot of nerve! Who gave you the courage to hit someone?” The three men stood protectively in front of Serena Vance. Liam O’Connell scoffed, “Where did this psycho come from? Here to cause trouble, are we? I’ll teach you a lesson!” Before he could make a move, Mr. Jenkins, the appraisal firm owner, finally arrived, albeit belatedly. “Ms. Sterling, my apologies, my apologies. I just finished a meeting, I’m late. What brings you here?” When Mr. Jenkins addressed me by my name, a wave of shock rippled through the onlookers. I didn’t give him a pleasant look. I asked coolly, “Mr. Jenkins, your firm certainly has a knack for chaos these days. I’m truly impressed.” “I’m truly sorry to have made you witness this!” Mr. Jenkins said, squeezing through the crowd and loudly signaling, “That’s enough gawking, everyone, disperse! We have an important guest today, don’t embarrass the company!” He spotted Mr. Davies not far away and frowned. “Why are you still standing there watching the show? Shouldn’t you be maintaining order?” Mr. Davies was momentarily speechless. “I was just handling a conflict between colleagues. This Chloe Adams…” “Shut up!” Mr. Jenkins’ face darkened. “Keep meddling, and I’ll fire you on the spot, believe me?!” Chloe, however, seized the opportunity and loudly declared: “Mr. Jenkins, Serena Vance swapped a client’s original with a fake! You must uphold justice today!” Mr. Jenkins’ brows furrowed, a difficult expression on his face. “Chloe, I’ll resolve this for you, but not now. We have important guests. Why don’t you go back for now?” “Mr. Jenkins, is this how you handle things?” Mr. Jenkins quickly explained, “They’re making a mess here, I’ll clear them out immediately.” I said coldly: “Mr. Jenkins, given the chaos here today, I can’t help but notice someone’s crying injustice. And it just so happens everyone is here. Why don’t you clear her name right now?” Brandon Hayes quickly interjected: “Chloe Adams, don’t think you can scare people with a fake investigation order. If you don’t have the guts, just admit defeat early! Apologize to Serena and clear her name!” Mr. Jenkins finally understood the full story and said sternly, “Chloe Adams, quickly return the real painting to the client, don’t delay things and bring bad publicity to our company.” My face instantly darkened. “Mr. Jenkins, since so many people are here, why don’t we continue the wager? A clear win or loss would serve to set an example and clean up this mess.” The onlookers, seeing the tension escalate, grew excited and chanted: “Boss, judge it fairly! We want to see what happens next!” Mr. Jenkins, seeing everyone’s interest growing, and at my insistence, could only give a helpless, wry smile. “Since Ms. Sterling has spoken, this matter will proceed. I will serve as the impartial arbiter.” I stepped forward, helped my sister up, and embraced her. “Who’s that new woman? Mr. Jenkins is practically bowing to her.” “Never seen her before. Probably some company bigwig. But… I saw her and Chloe Adams exchanging glances earlier, like they know each other?” Mr. Jenkins adjusted his glasses, a hint of impatience in his voice.

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I was pulled into an apocalypse game with my entire class. The group chat title was `[Zombie Siege]`. Everyone else picked weapon depots, military bases, or reinforced prisons as their safe houses. I chose the most indefensible spot: the Downtown Hospital. The school’s queen bee scoffed, saying my bleeding heart was acting up, wanting to save lives even in an apocalypse. She bet I wouldn’t survive the first night. When it came to weapons, everyone snatched up guns, knives, or explosives. I picked the only support item: a `Basic Antibiotic Preparation Guide`. The group chat immediately kicked me out. Nobody wanted a deadweight doctor. But after the first zombie wave, everyone saw the group chat title reset: `[Plague Apocalypse]`. *** 01: `[Welcome, hosts, to the Apocalypse Game.]` `[Game Name: Zombie Siege.]` A cold, mechanical voice echoed in every classmate’s mind. The next second, our phones lit up simultaneously. A new 50-person group chat was forcefully created. `[Survive one week in the game, and you’ll receive a one hundred million dollar prize.]` As if predicting our doubt, the system dropped a massive red packet into the chat. “Holy sh*t! A million bucks!” “Seriously? Grab it!” The previously dead-silent chat instantly exploded. Everyone was frantically tapping their screens. “I’m rich! In a week, I’ll be a billionaire!” “Let the game start! I can’t wait!” A wave of greed spread through the group. Only Asher, the class vice-president, remained rational. “What if… we fail?” `[If all hosts are eliminated, the game restarts. If a winner emerges, the game closes. Hosts who quit midway must repay ten times the received reward.]` The chat blew up. A few students who were too slow to grab the red packet started cursing. “Scammers! This is a trap! I’m quitting the group!” One student who’d snagged the money gloated, typing: “Go ahead, quit. Let’s see if you really have to pay back ten million.” Half an hour passed. The group chat still had 50 people. Nobody dared to risk it. The system ignored the uproar and directly popped up the first option. `[Please select your safe house:]` `1. City Prison, with high walls and electric fences.` `2. Underground Military Base, with a sturdy entrance.` `3. Large Weapon Depot, ample ammunition.` `4. Downtown Hospital, no special defenses.` `5. Suburban Villa, comfortable environment.` Brittany, the school’s queen bee, was the first to speak up, her voice sharp and domineering. “Listen up, everyone! Pick the prison! That place is built for the apocalypse! Anyone who follows me, I’ll make sure they survive!” She usually ran the class with an iron fist, and now she naturally took on the role of leader. “Brittany’s right! Prison it is!” “Yeah, the prison’s the safest!” Over a dozen of her cronies immediately followed suit. Most other classmates hesitated for a moment, then also chose the prison or military base. Next to “Downtown Hospital” on the option list, the number remained stubbornly at 0. Until my avatar lit up. `[Chloe, has selected ‘Downtown Hospital’.]` The group went silent for a second, then erupted into massive jeers. Brittany immediately tagged me, her tone overly dramatic. “@Chloe, Class President, is your bleeding heart acting up again?” “It’s the apocalypse, and you still wanna play Florence Nightingale? You’re uniquely stupid!” “Hahahaha, does she think this is some kind of make-believe game?” “Maybe she wants to inspire the zombies with her kindness?” The mockery flooded in like a tide. No one understood my choice, and no one wanted to associate with this “idiot.” Five minutes later, the options closed. `[Safe house selection concluded. Now, choose your initial weapon.]` `M1911 Pistol (includes 20 rounds)` `Machete` `Fire Axe` `Military Crossbow (includes 10 bolts)` `Basic Antibiotic Preparation Guide` “No question! Gotta be a gun!” “A knife’s most practical, bullets run out!” Brittany snatched a machete and posted a photo in the group chat. The blade gleamed wickedly. “Just you wait, this chick’s gonna carve up every single zombie!” I made my choice again. `[Chloe, has selected ‘Basic Antibiotic Preparation Guide’.]` This time, the group completely lost it. “Pfft! A useless book? She’s really lost it!” “I take back what I said, she’s not stupid, she’s crazy!” “She’s such a liability, whoever teams up with her is screwed!” Even Asher, who had been silent, couldn’t resist DMing me. “Chloe, don’t be reckless, your life’s on the line!” I didn’t reply. Brittany started a poll in the group. “See? This woman is completely useless! Raise your hand if you agree to kick this deadweight ‘doctor’ out of the team!” `[Poll Initiator: Brittany.]` `[Poll Topic: Should Chloe be considered a team burden and rejected for any form of cooperation?]` `[Agree: 49 votes.]` `[Disagree: 0 votes.]` The system’s cold notification sealed my fate. I became the class’s lone wolf. Everyone had decided I was the first night’s casualty. *** 02: The game began. A few hoarse growls came from outside the hospital. Zombies. But they moved slowly, joints stiff, their roars weak. Like a bunch of patients who’d just snuck out of a nursing home. Over at the prison, Brittany’s wild laughter echoed in the group chat. “That’s it? *These* pathetic things are zombies?” She posted a photo. In the picture, her foot was on a zombie’s head, the machete completely clean, her face filled with disdain. “@Chloe, see that? That’s what real strength looks like.” “You’re probably cowering in some corner of the hospital right now, right? Beg me, call me Queen B, and when I get tired of killing, maybe I’ll consider saving you.” Her cronies immediately started showering her with praise. “Queen B is awesome! These zombies aren’t even a warm-up for her!” “This game is too easy! A hundred million in the bag!” Other teams also reported “victories.” “Weapon depot’s cleared too, barely used any guns.” “The military base is super safe, zombies can’t even get in.” The group chat was filled with a lively atmosphere, as if the hundred million dollar prize was already in their pockets. The topic quickly shifted to how the money would be divided after they won. Brittany domineeringly declared: “After we clear this, all resources go to me for allocation. Any objections?” A student at the weapon depot scoffed: “Why you? We have the most guns here, *we* should get the credit!” Another at the military base also spoke up: “Exactly, Brittany. You have numbers, but you can’t make all the calls, can you?” Brittany sneered. “Disagree? Fine, when the game ends, go brave the outside world yourselves. Don’t expect a single grain of rice from me!” Asher tried to smooth things over. “Guys, let’s not argue. We’re all classmates. Let’s talk it out.” Brittany immediately turned on him. “Asher, why are you playing the nice guy? Hypocrite! Are you still holding a torch for Chloe?” “Let me tell you, when we clear this, the meds in her hospital might be worth a fortune. They’ll all be mine!” The group chat drama spiraled. I ignored it. The hospital I was in was eerily silent. My first move was to lock all external doors and windows, barricading them tightly with hospital beds and cabinets. Then, I pushed a medical trolley towards the pharmacy. “Amoxicillin, Cefazolin, Penicillin…” I muttered to myself, sweeping box after box of antibiotic raw materials into the trolley. Distilled water, medical alcohol, sterile syringes, petri dishes, centrifuges, microscopes… I emptied out everything from the lab and the sterile storage room, item by item. I found an ICU intensive care unit with its own fresh air system. This would be my temporary lab. I moved all the supplies inside and locked the door again. Outside, the survivors were reveling. But I was calmly preparing the only “ammunition” for an invisible war. I opened the thick `Basic Antibiotic Preparation Guide` and began a pharmacological analysis, cross-referencing my list of supplies. *** 03: Game Day Two. The temperature plummeted. A cold, fine rain began to fall. Someone in the group chat started complaining. “Damn, why’s it suddenly so cold? I think I’m getting a cold.” It was one of Brittany’s goons, his voice thick with congestion. Brittany immediately snapped: “Useless! You’re getting sick after killing a few zombies? Drink some hot water, don’t spread it to us!” The guy didn’t dare to speak again. Another weak voice piped up: “Brittany, I… I feel really bad too, my head’s throbbing.” Brittany’s voice grew even more impatient: “Want hot water? How many zombies did you kill today? If you didn’t contribute, just suck it up!” The voice vanished instantly. But soon, more and more people spoke up, the group chat filled with suppressed coughs. “I feel a little dizzy too, no energy.” “Cough, cough… I’m coughing too, my throat feels like it’s being cut with a knife.” “I have a fever, 102 degrees! Anyone have fever reducers? I’ll trade a can of spam for it!” As soon as the requests for medicine appeared, the group chat went silent for a brief moment, then was quickly swallowed by greed. “One can isn’t enough? At least three!” Everyone blamed it on “getting wet,” “staying up late,” or “a common cold.” “Must be from getting wet yesterday, so unlucky,” someone tried to comfort themselves. No one thought deeper. They continued to hunt the weak, frail zombies outside the prison, arguing endlessly over the resources dropped by them. “I saw this bottle of water first!” “Bullshit! I ripped it off that zombie myself!” Brittany roared, cutting off the argument: “Shut the f*** up, all of you! All supplies go to me! I’ll distribute them! Anyone who dares to hoard, don’t blame my knife for being merciless!” Asher vaguely sensed something was off. He warned everyone in the chat: “Guys, practice good hygiene. It’s best not to directly touch zombie fluids or blood.” A hesitant voice echoed him: “The class vice-president makes sense, better safe than sorry…” His words were cut off by Brittany before he could finish. “Makes sense my ass!” She jumped back in to mock Asher, “The vice-president’s just a coward, these zombies’ blood is cold, what kind of virus could they possibly have?” “I bet you’re just jealous we’re getting more kills and looking for an excuse to make us stop, right?” Brittany’s tone turned vicious: “Asher, if you dare to spread dissent and rattle everyone’s nerves again, watch it, or I’ll be the first one to toss you to the zombies!” Asher fell completely silent. I turned off my phone, blocking out the foolish arguments in the group chat. Inside the ICU ward, where I was, it was warm and dry. I was wearing a full set of protective gear I’d found in the operating room, goggles and double-layered gloves, sitting at the microscope. Under the lens was an air sample I’d collected from the hospital’s ventilation system. In a constant-temperature petri dish, a never-before-seen, strangely shaped superbug was dividing and reproducing at a visible rate. Their edges were oddly serrated, like tiny, deadly gears. It was them, alright. I put down the microscope and glanced at the gloomy sky outside the window. I knew their time was running out. I took a deep breath. The air was filled with a death they couldn’t see. I no longer hesitated. I lit the alcohol lamp, its blue flame dancing quietly. I began the initial separation and purification experiments for the antibiotics, following the guide’s procedures. Glassware clinked softly as I worked. The sound was like Death’s countdown. *** 04: Game Day Three. Panic completely erupted. “Help! I can’t breathe!” “Someone save me… I feel like my lungs are going to explode…” Over half the people in the group chat were sick. High fever, severe coughing, difficulty breathing, full-body aches. The symptoms were a hundred times worse than the most severe flu. Suddenly, a student in the prison let out a terrified scream. “My arm! The cut I got from a zombie yesterday, it healed!” Another person yelled too: “Me too! I got bit, and I’m absolutely fine now!” A girl typed shakily: “What in the world is going on?” Something even more terrifying happened. Someone who hadn’t spoken much suddenly piped up: “Wait… haven’t you guys noticed? The sickest ones… are the ones who killed the most zombies before!” “Brittany! And her cronies! They’re all about to die!” This sentence was like a lightning bolt, waking everyone up. The strongest people, those who killed the most zombies and had the most contact with corpses, were the ones who got the sickest. Brittany, the first to fall ill, was now coughing so hard she couldn’t type a full sentence. Everyone finally realized that the threat wasn’t the zombies at all! “How can this be? What kind of sickness is this?” “Help! Someone save me! I feel like I’m going to die!” “Medicine! The hospital! Chloe must have medicine!” The group chat was filled with wails and pleas for help, despair spreading like a plague. Some began to regret, screaming curses hysterically. “If only… if only I had picked the hospital… Why did I trust that idiot Brittany?!” “@Brittany! You b*tch! This is all your fault! I’ll never forgive you, even in death!” “What’s the point of saying that now! Think of a solution, quick!” Brittany, already on her last breath, used her remaining strength to type in the group chat, every word dripping with venom. “@Asher! Can’t you… cough cough… teleport?!” “Get to the hospital! Grab that b*tch Chloe… drag her over here! Force her to give us the medicine… save us!” “If you don’t go… you’re next to die!” Asher’s voice was filled with despair. “It’s useless… The hospital is surrounded by zombies, thick as a wall… I can’t get in…” “And we don’t even know what this sickness is, or what medicine to use… We’re doomed!” Just as everyone plunged into despair, and the group chat was completely drowned out by cries and curses… A cold system notification appeared at the top of everyone’s phone screen. Unequivocal, like a divine decree. `[Group chat title has been reset from ‘Zombie Siege’ to ‘Plague Apocalypse’.]` The entire group chat fell into a deathly silence. Everyone seemed to have been choked, the uproar instantly ceasing. Immediately after, a second announcement popped up. `[WARNING: Scratches or bites from zombies will not lead to infection.]` `[The true threat is the highly antibiotic-resistant Y-3 Superbug, which has spread through the air in all areas.]` The group chat remained utterly silent. Everyone could hear their own hearts pounding and teeth chattering. A few seconds later, the final announcement, like a crushing blow, completely shattered their last shred of hope. `[Friendly Reminder: The currently known, and only potentially effective, treatment plan is recorded in the ‘Basic Antibiotic Preparation Guide’.]` *** 05: `[Friendly Reminder: The currently known, and only potentially effective, treatment plan is recorded in the ‘Basic Antibiotic Preparation Guide’.]` After the deathly silence, came a collapsing roar of utter breakdown.

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Seven years into my marriage with Julian Thorne, I discovered he had a seven-year-old child. And I wasn’t the mother. “Ma’am, we can’t process this child’s official registration.” I froze. “What do you mean? My husband and I only have this one child, our baby!” The clerk double-checked, her expression turning rather knowing. “You certainly only have this one child. But Mr. Thorne isn’t… single.” “He has another seven-year-old son. His mother’s name is Seraphina Cross. Do you know her?” I was stunned, a faint twitch at the corner of my mouth. Seraphina Cross? Of course, I knew her. Julian and I were practically destined for each other, childhood sweethearts from families that had always approved of our match. And Seraphina Cross? She was the cheap bar hostess Julian had a one-night stand with, that one time we had a huge fight, and he went out to drown his sorrows. The moment I stepped out of the registration office, I called my childhood best friend. “Time for a new dad for my kid. Are you in?”

“Scarlett, what do you mean by this?!” Julian Thorne, my husband, called out from behind me, his voice incredulous. “I told you, I had an important company meeting today, that’s why I couldn’t come with you to register the baby!” “What are you throwing a fit about now?!” I looked at the man in front of me, dressed head-to-toe in athletic wear, and couldn’t help but want to laugh. Wearing a tracksuit to a company meeting? That lie was just pathetic! What’s more, that exact tracksuit Julian was wearing, was identical to the matching family outfit Seraphina Cross had shared on her Ins stories that very morning. “Julian Thorne, let’s get a divorce!” I tossed the freshly printed divorce papers onto the table in front of him. Julian actually laughed. “Divorce again? What number is this?!” He picked up the divorce papers, not hesitating for a second, and dramatically scrawled his name. “The 99th? The 999th? Or the 9,999th? Scarlett, can’t you come up with a new trick? I’m so bored of playing this game with you.” “We’ve been married for seven years, and now we have a baby. You can’t live without me!” Watching the triumphant smile on Julian’s face, a bitter pang twisted in my heart. Yeah, seven years. Everyone knew I loved Julian Thorne. Even he was that confident. But this time, I was truly ready to let go. “No one is indispensable.” “And as for my child’s father, he doesn’t *have* to be you!” My words made Julian’s face instantly darken. He was about to argue, when a little boy’s voice called out from nearby: “Daddy Julian!” Julian Thorne’s expression abruptly changed. It was Seraphina Cross and her son. “Julian, Leo insisted on bringing you the medal from the parent-child sports day himself, and… he said he wants to celebrate with you. If you’re busy, you don’t have to…” Seraphina put on an act of hesitation, as if she was troubled, but her eyes held an unmistakable glimmer of expectation. The little boy tugged on Julian’s sleeve, pouting adorably. “Daddy Julian, please, please come…” Julian didn’t respond, instead, he looked at me with a guilty expression. “Scarlett, you know… Leo doesn’t have a dad, that’s why I…” “I was just worried you’d get the wrong idea, that’s why…” A mocking smile curled my lips. If it had been before, if Julian had lied to me, I would have thrown a huge tantrum, demanded answers, and pursued it to the very end. But now, I was too tired to even bother. “Didn’t he ask you to celebrate? Go on.” I said blandly, turning to leave. But Julian grabbed my arm. “Don’t overthink this, Leo just wants to share his joy with me.” Seraphina also spoke up. “That’s right, Scarlett, please don’t misunderstand. Mr. Thorne just pities me.” On the surface, she looked innocent, but deep in her eyes was a mix of provocation and smugness. Exactly the same as the first time I met her seven years ago.

Seven years ago, during the first time Julian and I had a big fight, I flew all night, crossing the Pacific Ocean to find him. But in the furthest corner of a club booth, I saw him passionately kissing a half-naked, delinquent-looking bar hostess. That bar hostess was Seraphina Cross. After I walked in on them, Julian, in front of hundreds of people in the club, knelt down and slapped himself repeatedly. “I just came here to drink and relax…” “I swear, it was just the alcohol between me and that bar hostess, it meant nothing!” He kept slapping himself, blood oozing from the corner of his mouth, his cheeks red and horribly swollen. My heart softened, and I forgave him. Just when I thought it was an insignificant little incident, three years ago, I saw Seraphina Cross again at Pei Corp’s exclusive club. That bar hostess had become the general manager of the club. I confronted Julian. “Hiring is HR’s responsibility, it has nothing to do with me.” “And besides, I heard she’s a single mom, and it’s not easy for her to make it here in the city with a child…” I looked at his open, seemingly honest eyes, and once again, I chose to forgive him. Until now, looking at the “family of three” in front of me, I just felt like an incurable fool. Seeing my silence, Seraphina’s eyes welled up with tears, looking utterly wronged. “My son and I are all alone, Mr. Thorne was just being kind by helping us.” “You know, the kids at the kindergarten pick on Leo because he doesn’t have a dad, so this parent-child sports event was so important to him.” “Don’t blame Mr. Thorne either, he didn’t mean to not be with you. These past two days, he’s been with Leo practicing all night, he’s really tired.” Practicing all night? I glanced at Julian, who looked visibly flustered, and couldn’t help but laugh out loud. “Julian Thorne, yesterday you didn’t come home, and told me you were working overtime at the company?” “The day before yesterday, you didn’t come home, and told me a colleague was sick?” “The day before that, you didn’t come home, and told me you were on an urgent business trip?” “Does it hurt to be slapped in the face like this?” “So, you’ve been at Seraphina Cross’s house all these days.” “Julian Thorne, how much of what you’ve said is true, and how much is lies?” “Is this your biological son?” Julian Thorne’s face changed instantly. A flicker of guilt crossed his face, but he quickly forced himself to calm down. “Scarlett, I know you’re jealous about today, but you can’t just make things up!” “If you keep this up, I’ll get angry.” Seraphina also looked regretful and helpless. “I’m so sorry, Sister Scarlett. I talked too much. If you want to blame someone, blame me, not Mr. Thorne.” As she spoke, she shed tears of injustice. “Seraphina.” Julian Thorne fumbled for a tissue to wipe her tears. “It’s not your fault, Scarlett just overthinks everything.” His voice was so gentle, I’d never heard him speak to me that way. I felt a chill spread from my feet throughout my entire body, a piercing cold to the bone. Without another word, I turned and left. And as soon as I got home, about to pack my bags, I scrolled past Seraphina’s Ins post: “They say a dad is his child’s superhero. Today was another day where happiness became tangible!” “Thank you, Daddy, for Leo’s championship gift!” The accompanying photo showed Julian Thorne, Seraphina, and their son together. The three of them were huddled close, looking perfectly harmonious. I let out a bitter laugh, about to put my phone away, “Ding—” It was a SnapChat message from Julian Thorne. “Scarlett, don’t be mad. I bought a gift for the baby, I’ll bring it back for you later.” I looked at the baby clothes in the photo. It was the free gift that was in the corner of Seraphina’s picture. I tightly hugged my sleeping child, my vision blurred by tears. I took a photo of the divorce papers Julian had signed, and sent it to my best friend, Blake Miller. The next second, my phone rang. “Julian Thorne, that scumbag, did he bully you?!” “Come back to Seaside City, don’t be scared! I’ve got you and the baby covered, little lady!” Over the years, because Julian was possessive, I had practically cut off contact with all my friends, especially my best friend, Blake Miller. Hearing that familiar voice on the other end of the line, the tears I had held back for so long finally burst forth. “Don’t cry!” “Give me seven days. I’ll get everything ready in Seaside City, then I’ll come pick you up!” I agreed. I also needed some time to sort everything out.

The next two days, I was constantly on the move. One evening, when I came home to grab some documents, as soon as I opened the door, I saw a frantic Julian Thorne. Seeing us return, he immediately rushed over. “Scarlett, where have you been these past two days! Why couldn’t I reach you? Do you know how worried I was?!” He then leaned down to the baby. “Baby, you have to help Daddy scold your mom. Daddy was so worried he almost called the police!” Looking at him, I felt a wave of dizziness. It used to be like this. If I disappeared for more than half an hour, Julian would go crazy with worry. Others used to tease him, called him ‘Mr. Devoted’ because he was so obsessed with me. But back then, I only felt fortunate, grateful that I had found someone who truly cared about me. But now… Thinking of Seraphina and her son, my eyes dimmed. Turns out, the ‘wife-obsessed’ guy who doted on his wife, could also just be putting on an act. Julian Thorne loved me, I believed that, but his love wasn’t exclusive to me. At that thought, my heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, a sharp pain. It took a long time to calm down before I spoke. “I just went out for a walk. It was nothing big, so I didn’t tell you.” Julian Thorne finally sighed in relief. “Good that it’s nothing serious. Just don’t make me worry like that again next time.” He skillfully took the baby from my arms. “Baby, did you not eat enough with Mommy outside these past few days? You look so thin.” “Wait here, Daddy’s going to make you some formula.” As he spoke, he expertly started boiling water and preparing the formula. I stood to the side, quietly watching everything unfold. Seven years of trying to conceive, I had imagined this scene countless times, it had sustained me through one breakdown after another. Now, it was truly happening right in front of me, but, how much sincerity was actually in it, even I couldn’t tell anymore. “Ringtone—” A frantic phone ring broke my thoughts. I glanced at the caller ID, Julian Thorne’s expression instantly turned anxious, his hand shook, and the freshly made boiling hot formula splashed onto the baby. The baby immediately burst into tears. But Julian Thorne didn’t immediately check the baby’s injury. He just casually handed the baby back to me, then quickly walked to the balcony with his phone. After a long while, he came out. “I’m sorry, Scarlett, something came up with the company project. I have to go deal with it right away.” Then he perfunctorily kissed the baby’s face. “Baby, let Mommy help you with that. Daddy has to go now.” With that, he hurriedly left. He didn’t notice my livid face, nor did he notice the obvious burn on the baby’s skin. And I had seen the caller ID clearly just now. It was saved as “Seraphina.”

But now, I had no energy to dwell on any of it. Seeing the burn on the baby’s skin, I quickly hailed a cab to the hospital. After getting the wound treated, as I was preparing to go home, a familiar figure caught my attention. It was Julian Thorne. His expression was serious and focused, and the hospital’s medical team was explaining something to him. Passing medical staff whispered to each other: “I heard Mr. Thorne’s son just had a slight cough, and he worriedly brought in all the specialists from the city, and even booked an entire VIP floor.” “Looking at how worried Mr. Thorne is, you can tell he’s a good dad and a good husband at home.” “I’m so envious. If only I could marry such a family-oriented husband in this lifetime.” … I gripped my hands tightly, my nails digging into my palms, drawing faint traces of blood, but I felt no pain whatsoever. Only a bone-deep chill. Family-oriented? Good dad? Good husband? How utterly laughable. They probably didn’t know, Julian Thorne’s ‘family-oriented’ meant the home he built with a bar hostess, and my child’s burn was completely ignored by him, this so-called ‘good dad’ was a good dad to the son he had with someone else! Just then, Seraphina Cross walked out of the ward, her eyes tearful, and she linked her arm through Julian’s. “Mr. Thorne, thank goodness you were here today, otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to do.” “It’s just that, with this delay, you won’t have time to go back and accompany Sister Scarlett again…” “And she has that kind of personality, she’ll definitely throw a tantrum again…” “I’m sorry, it’s all my fault. When I was pregnant, I was so weak, which caused Leo to get sick every other day…” She hadn’t finished speaking when Julian Thorne cut her off. “Don’t blame yourself. I’ll stay with Leo tonight. You should go rest.” He put an arm around Seraphina’s shoulders, patiently comforting her. “What about Sister Scarlett and her baby then…?” A flicker of hesitation crossed Julian Thorne’s eyes, but it quickly vanished. “I’ll explain to her.” “Leo is my biological son, isn’t it only natural for me to take care of him?” The voice wasn’t loud, but every word still reached my ears clearly. It was like a bolt of lightning from a clear sky, shattering what little sanity I had left. Biological son! Julian Thorne, so when I’m not around, you don’t even bother to pretend anymore!

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After my twin sister died of cancer, my family manipulated me onto my brother-in-law’s bed. The next day, I knelt naked before Julian Vance, begging him for a chance at life. His dark eyes lingered on my face, a mirror image of the woman he’d lost. A flicker of something — yearning? — crossed his features, and he took me into the Vance family. For ten years, I tirelessly managed their daily lives, serving both father and son. Then, when I was pregnant again, Julian Vance tore up the lab results. “Get rid of the child.” But his stepson, Leo, who always seemed to despise me, stepped in front of me. “Don’t hurt Mom!” Yet, when I was six months pregnant, after drinking the porridge Leo himself had prepared for me, I bled uncontrollably. A cruel satisfaction spread across Leo Vance’s childish face. “Finally, this day has come. Disappointed, aren’t you?” “I only recognize Dr. Serena Wells as my mother. As for you? Just die!” What he didn’t know was that I married into the Vance family for one reason: to avenge my sister.

As consciousness slowly returned, my eyes met Julian Vance’s grim stare. He carried the distinct scent of Serena Wells’s perfume. Our gazes locked, and a trace of lingering memory still clung to his face. Seeing me instinctively touch my stomach, Julian Vance’s expression immediately hardened. “Awake?” “Leo is still just a child. It was only an embryo, don’t hold it against him.” I lowered my gaze, a sorrowful expression on my face. But inside, I let out a sigh of relief. It was for the best. This child was never meant to stay. “The doctor said you’ve completely lost your fertility after this miscarriage. That’s good, actually.” “Now you’re no longer a threat to Leo, and he’ll be more affectionate towards you.” My face remained indifferent; I had long prepared myself for this. This wasn’t the first child I’d lost. Only after marrying into the Vance family did I realize what a monster Julian Vance was, despite his ruthlessness in the corporate world. Because I bore an uncanny resemblance to my sister, he often, in a haze of twisted obsession, used me to vent his frustrations over the sister he loved but could never truly possess. To satisfy his perverse desires, he forced me to take special medication that induced lactation. But the drug also damaged my body. Every time I became pregnant, I would experience a threatened miscarriage within three months. The fact that this child lasted six months inside me was a miracle. At the loss of this tenacious little life, I wasn’t sure whether to feel relief or regret. Seeing my prolonged silence, Julian Vance grew impatient. He pressed down on my shoulders, one hand ruthlessly clamping my throat. “Clara Davies, don’t try my patience.” “As compensation, I’ll agree to collaborate with the Davies family on the new downtown project.” “You schemed your way into my bed, didn’t you? Just so your family wouldn’t lose out on profits after your sister died?” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the bedsheet. He had no idea. I wished nothing more than for the Davies family to collapse. Years ago, my sister had a first love, a relationship of many years, and they were on the verge of getting married. But Julian Vance, fixated on a minor favor my sister had once done for him, insisted on marrying her once he regained power. For the sake of profit, our father broke them apart, even orchestrating a car accident that sent her fiancé plunging off a cliff. Consumed by despair, my sister finally agreed to marry into the Vance family. I’ll never forget the day of the wedding, seeing my sister in her pure white gown, forcing a smile and still trying to comfort me. “Mr. Vance loves me so much, he’ll surely treat me well after we’re married. Don’t worry.” I was so naive then. I actually believed my sister’s words, thinking she’d still find happiness in the Vance household. But when I saw her again, she was covered in injuries. She barely managed to beg me to look after Leo Vance before she took her last breath. Driven by hatred, I married Julian Vance, and for years, I constantly humbled myself and acted subservient within the Vance family, slowly lulling him into a false sense of security. And finally, I found the compromising evidence: his illegal research into mind-altering drugs. I lowered my head, suppressing the raging hatred in my eyes. When I looked up again, my face had returned to its usual docile expression. “I married you… it was never for profit.” “I just hoped that one day, you would see my feelings for you.” My suffering from unrequited love seemed to amuse him. He sighed regretfully. “If only your sister had been half as obedient as you, I wouldn’t have had to resort to such drastic measures.” “On the day the collaboration is announced, you will attend as Mrs. Vance.” I forced a faint smile. The day that new project launches will be the day of your public downfall, Julian Vance.

The day I was discharged, I handled the paperwork alone. My phone, in my purse, kept buzzing. I opened it to find a barrage of photos from Serena Wells. She and Julian and Leo were all in matching outfits. Lately, they’d gone on an expedition to Antarctica, seen the Northern Lights in Iceland, and watched dolphins leap from the water in Alaska. Serena’s message read: “Julian and I have known each other since childhood. If I hadn’t gone abroad, how would you and that short-lived sister of yours have managed to swoop in?” “Everything that belongs to me, I’ll take back, little by little!” The image of my sister’s emaciated face before she died flashed in my mind, and my heart felt as if it were being torn to shreds by a sharp blade. These were all places my sister had longed to visit in her lifetime, but Julian Vance had held her captive, never allowing her to fulfill those wishes until her dying day. I opened Ins, and the very first post was a photo of Leo Vance and Serena Wells. He was nestled in her embrace, a joyful smile plastered on his face. “Happy Birthday, Serena Mom!” My nose stung. I stared blankly at the photo until my phone screen went dark, then snapped back to reality. They had all forgotten. Today was also my sister’s death anniversary. I suppressed the disappointment festering in my heart and took a cab to the Vance family cemetery. My sister had loved freedom more than anything, but Julian Vance refused to honor her dying wish of having her ashes scattered at sea. “Elara Davies will never escape my grasp, not in this life, nor in any other.” Touching the necklace around my neck, my voice was hoarse. “Sister, I’ll be able to avenge you very soon.” Back at the mansion, I heard cheerful laughter from the living room before I even pushed open the door. But the moment I stepped inside, the sounds abruptly ceased. Julian Vance’s lips thinned. “You’re back just in time. It’s Serena’s birthday today. As Leo’s mother, you should at least show some appreciation to his private doctor.” “Though you’re useless in most regards, your cooking is somewhat presentable. You’ll prepare tonight’s dinner.” But Leo Vance hurled a teacup at me from the table. “This woman isn’t my mom! I only recognize Serena Mom!” Warm blood trickled down my temple, and a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my heart. When I first married into the Vance family, Leo Vance was quite fond of me. But after he fell gravely ill at age seven, he woke up no longer recognizing me. Serena Wells rose and walked towards me. Still wearing her matching outfit, she subtly pulled my hand, a silent boast. “Leo is still young and speaks his mind. I hope you’ll be patient with him, sister.” I pulled my hand away, my voice cold. “I only have one sister, and she’s dead.” “If you want to be my sister, you’ll have to ask her in her grave if she agrees.” A flicker of discomfort crossed Serena’s face. She took two steps back, casting a helpless glance at Julian and Leo. As she turned, I noticed the gemstone necklace around her neck. I lunged, grabbing it. My voice trembled. “My sister’s keepsake! How did you get this?!” Serena cried out in pain. Leo Vance immediately charged, knocking me to the ground like an enraged bull calf. “This is something Mom left for me! Whoever I give it to, that’s my new mom!” “I’ve been wanting to give it to Serena Mom as a birthday gift!” “As for you, you scheming woman, don’t ever think I’ll acknowledge you!” My heart chilled to the bone. I pressed my hand tightly against my chest, trying to relieve the suffocating despair that engulfed me. “You only remember that today is Serena’s birthday.” “But do you remember that today is your mother’s death anniversary?!”

Leo Vance’s small face immediately went pale. But the next second, he roared at me. “Shut your mouth! You’re not worthy of mentioning my mother!” I raised my hand, and with a loud crack, five angry red marks appeared on his face. I looked at him with profound disappointment. “I am your mother’s biological sister. Your aunt.” “The same blood runs through our veins. We were the closest people in the world. How can I not mention her?” My gaze swept over them, one by one. “If I’m not worthy, then neither are you!” “Leo Vance, you are her only son, yet on her death anniversary, you embrace another woman as your mother. Are you worthy of mentioning her?!” I then pointed at Julian Vance, but before I could speak, he cut me off. “Enough!” “My heir is not for you to lecture.” “Someone, bring the discipline.” The barbed iron whip was brought in, and the servants forcibly bound me. Julian Vance put on white gloves, looking at me as if I were already dead. “After all these years, have you still not learned what to say and what not to say?” He raised the whip and lashed it hard across my back. One lash, two lashes. Each strike tore away a piece of raw, bleeding flesh, and my screams echoed through the villa. After ninety-nine lashes, my back was a mangled mess of wounds. I lay in a pool of blood, my breathing barely perceptible. Julian Vance tossed the whip away, his voice cold. “Take the madam downstairs.” Leo Vance let out a cruel, maniacal laugh. “You wretched woman! You deserve this!” Tears streamed uncontrollably down my face. Every inch of my body screamed in agony, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. His words were like sharp blades, each one a cold, gleaming knife, gouging out my heart until it bled. I was dragged into the utility room by a maid. She spat at me and tossed me onto a wooden plank to die. “Gold-digging homewrecker! You couldn’t wait to jump into his bed before the former madam’s grave was even dug! You deserve it!” Not long after she left, a click echoed, and the door opened again. Serena Wells’s hateful face came into view. I turned my head away, unwilling to look at her. But she leaned down, whispering into my ear like a venomous snake flicking its tongue. “I didn’t even care about your sister. As for you, I care even less.” “You don’t know, do you? At first, Julian really was good to her.” “It was I who framed her for still pining over her first love, which made Julian harden his heart and kill her.” I completely lost all reason, struggling to get up and fight her. Serena immediately stumbled and fell. Just then, Leo Vance pushed open the door. He walked in to see Serena on the ground. He yelled furiously. “Evil woman! Serena Mom came here out of kindness to put medicine on you, how could you be so ungrateful!” I screamed, my voice raw. “Serena killed your own mother! Are you still going to protect her like this?!” Serena feigned sorrow. “Clara, I know you don’t like Leo being close to me, and you’re trying every way to get rid of me.” “But Leo’s mother died of cancer, and I was studying abroad at the time. How could I have possibly harmed her?” With that, she covered her face and began to sob. But through her fingers, I saw her cast a defiant smile at me. In an instant, my entire being felt like it was boiling with rage. But just as I gathered every last ounce of strength to make Serena pay, a bucket of saltwater was thrown squarely in my face. The icy water streamed down my back, and instantly, a pain like a thousand ants gnawing at my flesh erupted from my wounds. Leo Vance burst into cruel laughter. “High-concentration saltwater, specially prepared for you! Do you like it?!” Immense agony pierced through my flesh, and my eyes filled with profound disappointment as I looked at Leo Vance. He was my sister’s only child. On her deathbed, my sister had even begged me to be his safety net. His hatred for me was truly chilling.

Leo Vance seemed stung by the disappointment in my eyes, his gaze flickering for a moment. But he quickly recovered, anger spreading across his face. He threw a divorce agreement in front of me, his cold, dark eyes identical to Julian Vance’s. “Sign this divorce agreement and get out of the Vance family. Make way for Serena Mom!” I gritted my teeth. “No, not yet…” Leo Vance thought it was an excuse to buy time. He raged. “Then don’t blame me for being rough!” He ordered someone to bring a bucket of water and mercilessly pushed my head into it. One minute… two minutes… Bubbles gurgled to the surface. In my blurred consciousness, I thought I saw a younger Leo, smiling sweetly at me. “Auntie.” But when my head was pulled out again, his face was utterly ruthless. “Still not agreeing?” I bit my lip hard, enunciating each word. “Never.” Leo Vance’s lips thinned into a straight line, and he pushed me back into the water. After continuous torture, I was barely breathing. Seeing that I wouldn’t yield, he snorted coldly. “I’ll come back another day to take good care of you, until you agree.” He sneered. “Mom.” Before completely falling into unconsciousness, I clutched the necklace concealing the chip, thinking: “Don’t worry. The day I avenge sister is the day I leave.” “I won’t spare Julian Vance, and I don’t want you either.” … On the day the new project launched, as I was leaving the house, I coincidentally ran into Leo Vance, who was heading to school. A malicious glint flashed in his eyes. My heart suddenly lurched. But when I looked again, his small face had already changed to one of docile obedience. “Goodbye, Dad. Goodbye, Mom.” I suppressed the strange feeling in my heart, took a deep breath, and got into the car heading downtown. This project collaboration was incredibly important. The attendees at the ribbon-cutting ceremony were all prominent figures from various industries. I hadn’t found the exact location of the lab, so the evidence I had wouldn’t be a devastating blow to Julian Vance on its own. But with the complex web of powerful figures present today, if I merely hinted at the truth, many rivals would surely launch their own investigations. This was my perfect opportunity to bring Julian Vance down. My entire body trembled with excitement, revenge so close. When it was my turn to speak, the screen behind me changed. A collective gasp swept through the crowd. I picked up the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, I am here to report Julian Vance for illegally researching mind-control drugs for unfair competition and personal gain…” But the crowd’s expressions weren’t outrage; instead, they were a gossipy, entertained curiosity, as if watching a show. I sensed something was wrong. I turned around, and when I saw what was on the screen, my blood ran cold. The large screen behind me displayed not the content extracted from my chip, but rather, my sister, covered in wounds.

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My wife’s assistant linked a bizarre system to me. Every time I got angry, his bank account would rake in massive amounts of money, directly proportional to my fury. He’d deliberately flirt with my wife, infuriating me so much I had a heart attack in the middle of the night and ended up in the hospital. Meanwhile, his bank account had three million dollars wired in, and he was so thrilled he posted three SnapChat stories. After I was revived, I confronted my wife, but she just sneered at me with contempt: “Oh, so Kyle’s account gets more money the angrier you get? Why don’t you admit he’s just working hard to achieve all this?” “If you had even half of Kyle’s drive, you wouldn’t still be just a project manager.” Later, when he was short ten million to acquire my wife’s company, he deliberately sent me a hotel room number. He wanted me to walk in on them, trigger another heart attack, and die on the spot. But when I woke up, I was back on the day I first saw Kyle with Charlotte. The familiar ache in my chest was exactly as I remembered. This time, I just made them hold each other even tighter: “You two are made for each other. Seriously, just lock it down.”

When I opened my eyes, Kyle Miller was wrapping an arm around Charlotte Peterson’s waist. The scene was so familiar, so vivid, it made my heart clench with a sudden, sharp pain. Sunlight streamed through the coffee shop window, bathing them in a warm glow. Charlotte was beaming, and Kyle’s hand was unmistakably possessive, a blatant declaration of ownership wrapped around her waist. “Mr. Sterling? Are you alright? You look a little pale.” Emily, my secretary, pulled me back to reality. I touched my chest. The agonizing phantom pain from my last life’s heart attack still lingered there. I had died, then I lived again, returning to this crucial moment… The day I first discovered Charlotte and Kyle’s affair. And just half a month prior, Charlotte had tricked me into signing divorce papers, claiming it was for the company’s IPO and stock division. We were in the cooling-off period. “I’m fine.” I took a deep breath. “Let’s go say hello.” In my previous life, when I saw this, I stormed over, furious, demanding Charlotte explain herself. My explosive rage instantly added half a million to Kyle’s account. Charlotte, meanwhile, looked at me like I was insane, accusing me of being “paranoid,” “making a huge deal out of nothing,” and “overly jealous.” This time, I walked towards them with a steady pace, a polite smile plastered on my face. “Charlotte, what a coincidence.” My voice was so calm, it even surprised me. It seems when you stop loving someone, you gain this strange calm. Charlotte visibly stiffened, quickly retreating half a step from Kyle. “Blake? Why are you here? You didn’t tell me?” “My apologies, I had a client meeting.” After saying it, I found it almost laughable myself. Apologizing had become a habit with Charlotte. If her clothes weren’t ironed perfectly, I’d apologize; if the restaurant I booked wasn’t good, I’d apologize; if I failed to make a name for myself, I’d apologize. I chuckled bitterly, shaking my head, then turned my gaze to Kyle and extended a hand. “Mr. Miller, long time no see.” A flicker of surprise crossed Kyle’s eyes; he clearly hadn’t expected me to be so composed. He hesitated before shaking my hand. “Mr. Sterling, good to see you.” I felt the familiar pang in my chest, but this time, my expression didn’t change. I knew this feeling too well. Even after everything from my previous life, I kept telling myself not to get angry. But with the undeniable betrayal staring me in the face, who could really control it? “Buddy, if you like her so much, hold her tighter.” I suddenly reached out, giving them a slight push, forcing them closer together. My voice was cheerful, as if I were genuinely wishing them well. “You two are perfect for each other. Seriously, just lock it down.” Charlotte’s face instantly went chalk white. “Blake Sterling! What are you talking about!” “Just kidding.” I shrugged. “You two carry on, my client’s waiting.” As I turned to leave, I caught Kyle’s expression in my peripheral vision—he looked like he’d just swallowed something foul. Back in my car, I opened my banking app, logging into an account I hadn’t used in ages. The digits displayed on the screen made Emily, sitting in the front, gasp. A nine-figure balance, with a string of zeros after the first digit. “Mr. Sterling, this is…” Emily was my personal secretary, the only subordinate who followed me to this new company. “Just a little something I’ve been saving. Time to stir things up.” I said casually, then dialed an international number. “Mike, I’m ready to take over the Asia operations again.” “Excellent, Blake. Wall Street is ready for its King to return.”

Hanging up the call, I glanced towards the coffee shop. Charlotte once said she hated rich people and preferred a simple, real life. So, for five years, I had hidden my true identity. I pursued and married her under the guise of being a regular project manager at Zheng Corp, earning just a few thousand a month. At the same time, to revive the nearly collapsed Zheng Corp, I secretly funneled many projects to them. Zheng Corp, from an obscure small company, soared to become the well-known Zheng Group. For Charlotte, I even stopped touching my bank accounts, working diligently, using every penny of my hard-earned salary to please her. But later, her appetite grew, and the luxury items she brought home increased. Yet she seemed to be convinced I was just a poor office worker, not even bothering to tell me the origin of those bags and jewelry. Only later did I discover she was getting hot and heavy with that assistant who profited off my rage. “Emily, look into two things for me.” My voice was eerily calm. “First, the exact relationship between Charlotte Peterson and Kyle Miller; second, Kyle Miller’s financial movements over the past six months.” Three days later, Emily placed the investigation report on my desk. The photos showed Charlotte and Kyle kissing at a hotel entrance. The bank statements showed that every time we argued, a mysterious sum of money would appear in Kyle’s account, its amount directly proportional to my level of anger. “And this.” Emily handed me a USB drive. “Mr. Miller attended a mystic gathering last month. He supposedly sought out some powerful system from a spiritual guru.” I inserted the USB. In the video, Kyle was smugly showing off to a friend: “That fool Sterling gets me rich the angrier he gets! Yesterday, he saw me getting close to Charlotte, and he instantly exploded, giving me half a million!” A sharp pang of pain shot through my chest again, but this time, I smiled. So that’s how it was. This was the thing that killed me in my previous life. An evil system that converted my emotions into money. “Mr. Sterling, what are you planning…?” “Give them enough rope to hang themselves. That’s ancient wisdom, learn it.” I closed my laptop, smiling. The next morning, I stood before my walk-in closet, my fingers tracing the fabric of a long-forgotten custom-tailored suit. Five years. This six-figure power suit was finally going to see the light of day again. As I walked through the company’s revolving doors, the front desk receptionist’s coffee cup *crashed* to the floor. “Mr. S-Sterling?” A new intern in the elevator gaped. “You’re…?” I deliberately tugged at my cuff, revealing the gleaming Patek Philippe watch face. “What? Don’t you recognize me?” The crowded elevator suddenly fell silent. Someone whispered, “That watch alone could buy a house…” “Just a knock-off.” Mr. Hayes, the head of marketing, suddenly sneered. “He even skipped out on splitting the bill at our last team outing. Now he’s trying to act rich?” “Mr. Hayes, perhaps you should focus on explaining that fifty thousand dollars in entertainment expenses from last month.” I smiled, pressing the button for the executive floor, letting their scrutinizing gazes sweep over me. When the elevator stopped on the 38th floor, laughter erupted behind me. “He’s definitely going to get chewed out. Ms. Peterson hates his cheap, struggling appearance!” Pushing open the frosted glass door of the CEO’s office, I saw Charlotte sitting on Kyle’s lap, feeding him strawberries. The moment she saw me, she sprang up as if she’d been electrocuted. “Blake Sterling!” She grabbed a folder and threw it at me. “Who gave you permission to come to the company dressed like that? If clients see us, they’ll think Zheng Corp is so pathetic, our managers can’t even afford decent suits!”

Kyle slowly wiped strawberry juice from the corner of his mouth. “Don’t get upset, Charlotte. Blake’s outfit is probably rented.” He walked over and squeezed my suit fabric hard. “Tsk, tsk, it’s a pretty good replica, actually.” Charlotte suddenly sneered. “I knew it looked familiar! Mr. Mike Sterling, from Sterling Corp, wore that exact style at the finance summit last week, didn’t he?” She reached out and tugged at my tie. “You shameless thing, wearing a knock-off to my company, trying to parade around and con people!” I looked at Charlotte, her face red with fury. “Did it ever occur to you that it might be real?” Charlotte scoffed. “You had to save up for half a year just to buy me a five-thousand-dollar bracelet. Do you even know how much a real one of these costs?” Kyle also stood up and pushed me. “Didn’t Charlotte tell you not to come near her office? Why are you clinging to her like a stray dog? No wonder you’re still just a petty project manager after all these years.” I pulled out a folder. “Wait, you two will be interested in this.” I placed the folder on her desk. “Sterling Corp is very interested in the smart campus project. They’re willing to invest eighty million.” Charlotte’s eyelashes trembled violently. “You know people from Sterling Corp?” “He probably knows a janitor there?” Kyle burst out laughing. “Don’t try to act like a big shot! He couldn’t even afford the seafood buffet at the last team outing!” Charlotte echoed his laughter from beside him, and I suddenly found it incredibly ironic. Five years. Charlotte still didn’t know I was allergic to seafood. The CFO happened to walk in to deliver reports and sneered when he heard the conversation: “Mr. Sterling’s paychecks are still controlled by Ms. Peterson, where would he get money for designer brands?” Charlotte seemed to regain her composure, her heels clicking as she strode towards me. “Listen, take off that cheap fake outfit right now!” She suddenly ripped open my suit jacket. “Don’t embarrass yourself here anymor…!” She stopped abruptly, seeing the Patek Philippe watch on my wrist beneath the suit. “This watch?” she asked, incredulously. Kyle saw it too. He leaned in to examine my watch. “This fake is pretty convincing. Did you steal it from a client?” Charlotte, as if waking from a dream, pushed me out of the office: “Take your fake watch and fake suit, and get out!” I looked at the room full of clueless people. Just wait. Soon enough, you’ll know who’s real and who’s fake. A few days later, it was the company’s annual gala. I stood in a corner, holding a glass of champagne. The rented suit’s sleeve was already fraying, but I had no choice but to wear it. Charlotte had specifically texted me last night, demanding I “don’t wear your cheap junk and embarrass me.” If she knew that the “cheap junk” she disdained was a custom-tailored suit she couldn’t afford with three years of her salary… I wondered what her expression would be then.

“Now, please welcome the best project team of the year to the stage!” The host’s voice boomed. I adjusted my tie. I had pulled four months of all-nighters, averaging three hours of sleep a day, to complete this smart campus project that Sterling Corp was eyeing for investment. I’d finished it just before the deadline. Although it was credited to the team, everyone knew the core solution came from my hands. All to make my grandfather proud. “Let’s welcome the project lead, Kyle Miller! From today, he’s promoted to Director!” Applause thundered. My champagne glass, half-raised, froze in mid-air. On stage, Kyle, dressed in a custom-tailored suit, was bowing gracefully. On the large screen displaying the project summary, my name was listed last, marked as “material compilation.” “And a special thanks to my amazing partner.” Kyle suddenly blew a kiss towards the audience, and the camera promptly cut to the main table, where Charlotte was covering her mouth, giggling coyly. My heart clenched painfully. I fumbled for a pill and swallowed it. Just then, a microphone was thrust in front of me. “Mr. Sterling, as a team member, what are your thoughts?” The host was clearly unaware of the situation. “I hear you pulled several all-nighters?” The entire room fell silent. I saw Kyle’s narrowed eyes and Charlotte’s suddenly changing expression. “It was all thanks to Director Miller and Ms. Peterson’s excellent leadership.” I put on a perfectly timed expression of humility. “I just helped out a bit. Nothing worth everyone’s attention.” Kyle immediately beamed, and Charlotte’s expression shifted from tense to subtly contemptuous. She elegantly stood up, her high heels clicking. “My Blake,” she said, leaning intimately on my shoulder, her voice carried through the microphone to the entire room, “his biggest strength is knowing his place.” Her fingers dug hard into my shoulder blade. “After all, being a kept man is a real skill, right?” Laughter, like a tidal wave, crashed over me. I maintained my smile, the metallic taste of blood filling my mouth. I hadn’t even realized I’d bitten the inside of my cheek. Kyle’s phone buzzed with a notification. He glanced at it, a wild grin spreading across his face. I knew what it was. My rage was being converted in real-time into numbers in his account. “Oh, right,” Charlotte said, turning back as she walked away. “Tomorrow’s our wedding anniversary. I booked a table at a Michelin-starred restaurant.” Her red lips curved into a smirk. “Don’t be late.” Of course, she wouldn’t show up. Last life, I waited four hours that day, only to receive a text from Kyle. It contained a hotel room number. I had gathered evidence of their affair, but my heart couldn’t take any more shocks. I died right outside that hotel room, becoming the laughingstock of the entire city. But this time, I had a surprise prepared. The next evening, I used half a year’s savings to buy Charlotte the Cartier necklace she had admired in a store last week. I waited at the restaurant until closing.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “297229”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #现实主义Realistic #浪漫Romance