Author: Momo Chan

A wolf is a wolf. No matter how well it disguises itself as an innocent little rabbit, one day the mask will come off. If I had known he would grow up to devour me completely, I should have hardened my heart back then and let him fend for himself. We met at the orphanage, and after that, he just stuck to me. Looking at the guy seven years younger than me, I got a headache. Maybe I should just ditch him. I had no reason to sacrifice my whole life for some kid. But Jake, sitting on the couch, seemed to read my mind. His gloomy eyes suddenly turned red. He yanked me close, wrapped his arms around my waist, buried his head in my chest, and started sobbing quietly. “Are you leaving me too?” At fifteen, Jake was already taller than me. His hands behind my waist felt like red-hot iron, burning me all over. “Jake…” This brat even rubbed against my chest a few times. A jolt of electricity shot through me, making my whole body tingle. “Fine, fine! One more mouth to feed. I’ll take care of you for three more years. Once you’re an adult, you’re on your own!” Back then, I was too busy worrying about our future to notice the sly smile on Jake’s face buried in my softness.

“Emily, why aren’t you up yet? Didn’t you say yesterday you had something early today?” Jake was already waking me up first thing in the morning. Half-asleep, I snapped my eyes open the second he opened the door, quickly wrapping myself tight in the blanket, only my head poking out as I gave him an awkward smile. “I’m about to get up. You go out first.” Jake shot me a searching look. My heart was pounding. They say women hit their prime at thirty, and it’s true. I’m thirty now, living with Jake all these years, never finding the right boyfriend. Adults have needs. Last night, I took care of things in bed. At the height of it, my panties had vanished somewhere. Right now, I was completely bare under the covers. Him staring at me like that stirred something strange inside. It hit me suddenly: Jake had grown up. He was a full-grown man. “Why’s your face red? What are you getting up so early for?” Jake’s handsome face got closer and closer. My heart hammered. I gripped the blanket edge tight and closed my eyes. Warmth touched my forehead, breath brushing my face, tickling. I opened my eyes. My gaze landed on his straight nose and thin lips. He was pressing his forehead to mine. “No fever.” He was just checking my temperature. I let out a breath, but a little disappointment crept in too. “I’ve got a blind date. You always used to say you were too young for me to date anyone. Now you’re twenty-three. It’s not too much for me to find someone, right?” Jake’s face, about to pull away, came back. His strong arms braced on either side of my pillow. I watched his Adam’s apple bob. That clean, woody cologne only he wore filled my nose. This position was exactly like the one I’d seen in a video yesterday… Just the thought sent a warm rush straight to my core. Something threatened to spill out. I squeezed my thighs together in shame, avoiding his eyes. After a long pause, his low, husky voice sounded by my ear. “Breakfast is ready.” Jake left my room. I threw off the blanket, panting from the heat. Even after getting dressed, I still couldn’t find those soaked panties from last night. No big deal. Probably stuck in some crevice. They didn’t grow legs and walk out. I did careful makeup, picked a light blue sweater dress that hugged my figure, slipped on sheer nude stockings, and fixed my loose wavy hair. In the mirror, the pretty woman struggled with her necklace. “Jake, help me.” He stepped behind me, pinning me between the sink and his body. His fingers were cool from washing his hands. They brushed my hair aside, grazed my neck, then took the necklace ends from me. The touch made me shiver. “Hold still.” He murmured near my ear, so close that one turn of my head and I could kiss those thin lips… I zoned out watching him in the mirror, focused on fastening the clasp. “Done.” His hands rested on my shoulders. We smiled at our reflection together. We were so close. Leaning against his chest, I felt his strong heartbeat. The boy who once barely reached my height had quietly become a man. Standing together, we looked like a couple in love. Staring at us, I lost myself…

“Miss Emily?” Someone pulled me out of my daydream. The guy across the table looked annoyed. “Sorry, I didn’t sleep well last night. What did you say?” “I said we’re not getting any younger. My mom wants you to marry into our family soon and give her a couple grandsons. Sure, you’re very pretty, Miss Emily, but with your background and age, you’re not likely to find anyone better. Think it over and let me know. I’ve got another date to get to. Bye.” He rambled on, then got up and left. I even paid for his coffee. What a loser. Fuming, I called my best friend. We did spa treatments, caught a movie, had a candlelit dinner. Thinking of that jerk, I snapped a few cute pics and posted on social media: [Thanks babe, heading to the bar next. Such a full, happy day! xoxo~] At the bar, we clinked glasses. She asked my plans. “What plans? Keep dating, I guess. Lately I’ve been desperate. I need a strong, fit guy!” “Strong and fit? Isn’t Jake right there? Only seven years apart. You’ve known him forever—safe choice…” She teased me about Jake, but her words rippled through my calm heart like a stone dropped in a lake. Suddenly I really wanted to see him. I ditched my friend and took a cab home. The house was dark. I tripped over shoes at the entryway and nearly fell, landing in warm, solid arms. Buzzed from drinks, I ran my hands all over Jake. Had he been working out secretly? I felt abs. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven… A low groan escaped him. He caught my wandering hands. His breathing grew heavy in my ear. Maybe my alcohol rubbed off on him, because he gripped my waist and kissed me wildly, like he wanted to swallow me whole. “Jake…” Why did I start this? I raised him! He’s young and hot-blooded. I can’t mess up. With the last of my morals, I pushed him away. But he pinned me against the door, one hand holding both of mine above my head. “Who’s your ‘babe’? Who’d you go to the bar with tonight?” In the dark, I couldn’t see his face, but anger laced his voice. He’d never spoken to me like that. A thought hit me—could Jake actually like me? Alcohol slowed my brain. I didn’t know how to handle us, so I closed my eyes and pretended to pass out. He sighed helplessly, scooped me up gently, and laid me in bed. He didn’t do anything else, but before leaving, he brushed a light kiss on my lips. My eyelids grew heavy. I drifted off and, unsurprisingly, dreamed of Jake. Little Jake always trailed me calling “Sis, sis.” Grown-up Jake only called my name in that deep, sexy voice: “Emily.” When had he stopped calling me sis?

Next morning my head throbbed. Coming out of my room, I saw Jake had breakfast ready on the table. “Up? Eat. All your favorites.” He acted so normal I wondered if last night was just my fantasy. “Our Jake’s so domestic. Some lucky girl’s gonna snag you.” I teased, testing him. He went quiet. Awkwardness filled the air. I sat and sipped oatmeal silently. “Emily, since I’m so great, how about you take me?” My heart jumped. I couldn’t look up, nearly burying my face in the bowl. “What are you saying? I’m seven years older…” “So what?” He cut me off, pulled out the chair beside me, and sat. That nice woody scent filled my nose again. “Emily, I’ve liked you for a long time. If other guys are okay, why not me?” His sudden confession left me flustered and annoyed. His gaze burned too hot, making my cheeks blaze. But I couldn’t accept this yet. We both needed space. I made an excuse about work and fled the house, staying away four whole days. After living together over ten years, Jake knew me. He gave me time, didn’t push. Those four days I went on more dates, thinking a boyfriend would make him back off. But the guys were worse than ever—ugly and full of themselves. Compared to them, I started considering Jake’s offer. At least he was handsome, young, energetic, and could satisfy me. Days were painful with bad dates. Nights were torture. Staying at my friend’s, I heard her and her husband every night through the wall. They tried to keep quiet because of me, but the muffled sounds crawled into my ears anyway. The guilty thrill of listening only made it worse… I couldn’t stay there. I had to go home. To avoid awkwardness, I picked midnight. I crept in like a thief, quietly opening and closing the door. Then a familiar voice hit me. “Oh baby, I love you so much. I’ve wanted to do this to you forever…” Jake sounded pleased yet tormented, mixed with rhythmic heavy breathing that struck my nerves. Heat flooded me. My panties soaked through. My body wanted him, but anger burned hotter. He claimed to like me, yet four days apart and he brought another woman home? Furious, I stormed barefoot to his room. The door was ajar. Through the crack, I saw him. Naked on the bed, right hand stroking himself steadily, left hand holding fabric to his nose, inhaling deep. Eyes closed, brows furrowed, face twisted in an expression I’d never seen. He kissed the cloth. In the dim light, I recognized it. My body grew even wetter. Those were the panties I lost days ago! How did Jake have them? He was… “Ah…” “Emily, I love you…” His voice rose. His hand sped up. A white arc shot through the air. He finished, panting hard, eyes opening. Our gazes locked. I should have left, stopped watching. But my legs stayed rooted. My eyes couldn’t leave his body. First time seeing a grown man’s body in real life—strong, beautiful. I imagined being held by it. Jake grabbed his robe, put it on, opened the door, and stood before me. He towered a full head over me, blocking the light. I looked up at his shadowed face. My heart pounded again. I always knew he was gorgeous. After staring at him so long, how could I settle for the losers out there? Suddenly he pulled me into a tight embrace, bending to rest his head on my shoulder and neck. Hot breath tickled me. I squirmed. He held tighter, like reclaiming lost treasure. I thought I felt wetness on my shoulder. I reached up and rubbed his hair like when he was little. “Jake, I’m home.”

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Late that night, exhausted after a surgery, I saw my phone light up with a notification. It was from my intern. “I’m getting married tomorrow. Everyone must come!” Too tired to argue, I replied. “Congratulations. Unfortunately, I have a prior commitment.” But my intern threatened me. “You dare refuse? My fiancé is a major investor in this hospital. One word from me, and your career here is over. But if you show up tomorrow and work the serving line, I might reconsider.” Then, she flooded the entire hospital staff chat with wedding photos. I froze. The groom in the photos was my husband. The man I had lifted from nothing. The man I had built a life for. And here he was, throwing a wedding for his mistress? I immediately replied in the group chat. “Sweetie, I’ll be at your wedding tomorrow, right on time. I’ve prepared a grand gift just for you!” I arrived home to an empty house. It seemed my husband, Daniel Hayes, was still busy with his wedding preparations. When we first met, he was a broke college student. The investor he’d become existed only because of my family’s money. I smirked and called Mr. Jenkins, our butler. “Freeze all assets under Daniel’s name. Cancel every credit card. And prepare a grand gift for me. Have it delivered to the hotel hosting the wedding tomorrow.” The next morning, as I was walking out the door, a text from Daniel came through. “You’ve been working so many surgeries lately, you must be exhausted, my love. I’ll bring you a gift when I return from my business trip.” He played the role of the caring husband as usual. I replied. “Sure, I’ve got a little surprise for you too.” At the wedding reception, my intern, Tiffany Miller, held court in her white gown, glowing with triumph as she held court before our hospital colleagues. “My husband is the biggest investor in our hospital. I promise he’ll give everyone a raise soon.” Someone spotted me and immediately mocked. “Well, look who finally showed up. Dr. Reed, weren’t you too busy to attend?” A nurse beside her, eager to curry favor, tittered. “Oh, I heard she came to work. As part of the serving staff for Tiffany.” I couldn’t be bothered with these pathetic clowns. But when Tiffany saw my haute couture Chanel dress, her eyes flared with jealousy. “Fake designer? This is what you should be wearing!” She threw a grease-stained server uniform at me. Before I could react, she lunged, tearing at my collar, a sneer twisting her lips. “Old hag, nobody wants to see your body anyway, why don’t you just strip and change right here in front of everyone!” My strap instantly loosened, a large patch of skin exposed to the air. Gasps filled the room, and several leering, disgusting gazes immediately latched onto me. I shoved her away, clutching my dress. Then I grabbed her arm and dragged her toward the massive gift box. A foul, rotting smell drifted from it. I opened it slowly, deliberately. Inside were rotten cucumbers, black-spotted, soft and shriveled. Tiffany’s face instantly turned ashen. “Rachel Reed!” I replied. “Don’t you love used, rotten cucumbers? Here are 365 of them. One for every day of the year. That should be plenty to satisfy you.” Tiffany erupted in a furious scream. “Rachel! What are you saying? Who wants rotten cucumbers? You came here today just to start a fight!” “You’re just an old hag dumped by a man, jealous that I’m young, beautiful, and marrying well!” “I’m telling you, my husband will be here any minute, and with one word, he can get you fired from the hospital!” Tiffany was trembling with rage, lunging at me, trying to slap my face. I sidestepped, a cold smirk playing on my lips. “We’ll see who gets fired.” Tiffany exploded. “You bitch! You lunatic!” “You’re just jealous I snagged a rich man like Mr. Hayes, so you’re resorting to these pathetic tricks just to get attention!” I rolled my eyes. Her voice was grating on my nerves. “Tiffany, let me just confirm something. Are you absolutely sure you want to marry this man?” She lifted her chin, a picture of arrogant triumph. “Obviously. My Daniel is the hospital’s primary investor. Billions. The kind of wealth a doctor like you could never earn in your lifetime. Money comes easy to him.” “Marrying him makes me the rightful Mrs. Hayes, someone all of you will have to look up to!” A chorus of eager agreement rose from her clique. “Tiffany was born for this life. Unlike some, who at her age are still gold-digging!” “Dr. Reed, after this spectacle, how do you plan to stay in the department?” “Offending the investor’s wife? Your career here is finished.”

How utterly laughable. They accuse me of gold-digging? I wonder what expressions they’d wear if they knew I was the silent capital behind Daniel’s empire. My sole dream, since I was a child, has been to heal. This hospital was my father’s graduation gift. A place built for my ideals, a sanctuary where I could practice medicine without distractions. Daniel? What kind of investor was he? He was nothing more than a stray I could kick out anytime. Tiffany, seeing my silence, thought I was scared, and her smugness grew. She pulled out her phone, dialed a number, and deliberately put it on speakerphone. “Honey, where are you? I’m being bullied, hurry up and come!” “That Rachel from our department, she came to our wedding and caused a huge scene!” Daniel’s voice on the other end immediately panicked. “What? Rachel? Baby, don’t worry, I’ll be right there! Please, don’t let there be any conflict!” After hanging up, Tiffany’s chin lifted even higher. “Did you hear that? My husband is coming right now! Rachel, you’re dead today!” “Not only will you be kicked out of the hospital, but I’ll make sure you can’t work in the entire medical field!” The colleagues started whispering and pointing at me. “Oh no, she really pissed Daniel off now.” “Dr. Reed usually seems so smart, why is she so impulsive today?” “She’s in her thirties, acting like a teenager, jealous over a guy! What makes her think she can compare to Tiffany?” Tiffany looked at me provocatively. “Rachel, I’m giving you one last chance. For the sake of our time as colleagues, get down on your knees and apologize to me right now.” “And eat these damn rotten cucumbers, and I might consider asking my husband not to kick you out of the hospital.” “Otherwise, you’ll really pay for this!” I took a step forward, looking directly into her eyes. “You want me to kneel to you?” “Do you really think you’re worthy?” The next second, I yanked the marriage license from my bag and flung it at her face. “Open your eyes. The man you call your billionaire husband, Daniel, is legally married to me.” “You, you’re nothing but a mistress!”

The document hit Tiffany’s face, then fluttered to the floor. Tiffany froze for a heartbeat, then burst into exaggerated laughter. “Hah! Rachel, are you so desperate for a man you’ve gone insane?” “You actually forged it? Pathetic!” She snatched it up, her eyes skating over the text without truly seeing. “Fantasizing about my husband? Have you no dignity.” “I’d heard rumors about unhinged female doctors at this hospital. I never imagined it was you!” “Knowing my husband is an investor, you’ve completely lost all shame! What, are you going to drop your pants and spread your legs the moment you see him in person?” She turned to the surrounding guests and colleagues. “Everyone, judge for yourselves! This woman, just because she’s a senior in the department, is forging documents and spreading rumors that my husband is hers! Isn’t that ridiculous?” A doctor who usually flattered Tiffany immediately stepped forward. “Dr. Reed, we’ve known each other for years, how did we never realize you were so vile?” “Daniel is a powerful man! How could he ever be interested in an old hag like you! I advise you to leave now! Don’t make a fool of yourself here!” A group of people immediately started pushing and shoving me. “Get out! Don’t soil Tiffany’s wedding!” “You ungrateful, cheap whore!” I stumbled from the push, my lower back directly hitting the corner of a table. The exhaustion from ten hours of high-intensity surgery made my vision swim. I leaned against the wall, barely able to stand. Tiffany turned and splashed a glass of champagne in my face. “Hurry up and kneel to admit your mistake! I’ll be merciful and let you keep the job of waiting tables here at the wedding!” Just then, an unexpected person appeared. “Rachel, what are you doing here?”

I turned around, and froze. It was my mentor, Professor Peterson, a titan in the medical field. Ignoring the champagne on my face, I rushed to greet him. “Professor, what brings you here?” My mentor was the person I respected most. He had written my recommendation letter when I went abroad for advanced studies. He was like a father and a mentor to me. Professor Peterson patted my hand and sighed. “I heard a junior colleague was celebrating her marriage. I thought I’d come to offer my congratulations.” “I never imagined…” His gaze swept over the rotten cucumbers and Tiffany, who glared with resentment, and his brow furrowed. Tiffany immediately rushed over, sobbing. “Professor, you have to help me! She’s using her seniority to bully me!” Professor Peterson was known for protecting his own, especially the younger doctors in his department. “Rachel, what’s going on? Even if there’s a conflict, you shouldn’t be causing a scene at someone’s wedding.” Before I could explain, Tiffany twisted the truth. “Professor, Rachel is a total lunatic! She’s after my husband and came here to throw a fit and cause a scene! She even sent rotten cucumbers to insult me!” The colleagues around her also echoed her, twisting the truth. Professor Peterson listened to their words, his expression filled with disappointment towards me. “Rachel, you’re a cornerstone of our department, a role model for younger doctors. How could you do something so inappropriate?” “Quickly, apologize to her and take those things away.” A chill spread through my heart. Even my most respected mentor, without knowing the full truth, chose to believe Tiffany, the one who seemed like the victim. Tiffany then stepped forward, slamming a wine bottle directly onto my head. “You’re destroying our happiness. Don’t you know that brings bad karma, Dr. Reed?” “Daniel’s baby in my belly is three months old! It’s too late for you to try and get into his bed now!” Tiffany and her colleagues forced my head down to the ground. Glass fragments from the bottle instantly cut my face. But I just burst out laughing. How utterly hilarious! Pregnant? I pulled out my phone, ignoring the pain in my face, and sent a message to Mr. Jenkins. Tiffany froze, surprised by my laughter. I seized the opportunity to push her away and get back up. My eyes swept over the assembled crowd before locking onto Tiffany’s belly. “Since you want this child so badly, and you’re so desperate to be Mrs. Hayes…” “Then I’ll give you another grand gift.” Tiffany panicked. “What are you doing? What is this?” Seconds later, the hotel’s large screen lit up. Tiffany’s face paled the instant she saw what was on it. Daniel, who had just arrived, froze, his eyes locked on the screen.

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He crashed his car and lost his memory the day he chased after the woman he’d always loved. That same day, his mother and I made a deal. She offered a billion dollars. I’d take care of him, marry him, and give him heirs. For five years, we built a happy life. So happy that I forgot it began as a transaction. I let myself believe we were truly, madly in love. Then he saw a photograph of her. And he remembered everything. The day I got the positive pregnancy test, I watched him pull that woman into his arms and kiss her with deep affection. Jade POV It was my fifth year as Julian Hayes’s wife. The moment I confirmed his memory had returned, I called my employer. “Your divorce from Julian will be finalized within a month. I’ll send you the visa paperwork along with it.” My grip tightened on the phone. “Understood, Mrs. Hayes. Thank you.” A slight hesitation from the other end. “Are you certain? You truly want to divorce him?” My eyes closed, long lashes brushing against my skin. “Our agreement was clear. I may leave once I’m carrying his child.” “Very well. Once the child is born abroad, our arrangement will be concluded in full.” Not long after the call ended, my phone buzzed with a transfer notification. A billion dollars. And it wasn’t even the final payment. It was enough for lifetimes. Suddenly, a deep voice came from behind me. “Who was that?” My heart clenched. I turned. Julian stood in the doorway of our bedroom, having entered without a sound. He was impeccably dressed in a suit, tall and handsome, exuding an air of effortless sophistication and raw power. I managed a smooth, practiced smile. “Just a friend.” His gaze dropped to my hand.. “What’s that?” “Our five-year anniversary itinerary.” I folded the positive pregnancy test I’d been clutching and held it out to him. “Want to see it?” Julian didn’t move. His eyes, fixed on mine, were a turbulent, unreadable storm. “Cancel the anniversary plans. I don’t have the time.” But just half a month ago, he’d cleared his entire schedule for it. Ten days ago, we were still sweetly planning how we’d celebrate. His phone suddenly rang. Julian saw the caller ID, and his usually sharp eyes softened, a tenderness I hadn’t seen in days blooming within them. “I have to go out for something. Don’t wait for me for dinner tonight.” With that, he answered his phone and strode out, leaving me behind. Watching his retreating back, my heart felt like it was being pricked by countless tiny needles, a suffocating, unbearable pain. Julian and I had been inseparable, a loving couple for five years. Until five days ago, when everything changed. I don’t know where he got Isabella Stone’s photo, but upon seeing her face, he recovered from his five years of amnesia, remembering his first love. I’d vaguely heard that he and Isabella were once a perfect match. But five years ago, Isabella’s family went camping with Julian’s father. They were accidentally kidnapped by an anti-social, wealth-hating extremist. To save their own lives, Isabella’s family betrayed Mr. Hayes’s identity as Emerald City’s wealthiest man, leading to him being brutally murdered and dismembered by the extremist. The Hayes family was furious, unleashing their full power to ensure the perpetrators suffered a fate ten times worse. Isabella’s parents also quietly died in prison. Only Isabella was protected by Julian. And the day Isabella was forcibly sent abroad by Mrs. Hayes, Julian frantically chased after her, ending up in a car crash. When he woke up, he’d forgotten everything. That’s when Mrs. Hayes found me, and they made their deal. At the time, I didn’t know the inside story and even laughed, thinking Mrs. Hayes was desperate for grandchildren. Mrs. Hayes had said, “You don’t understand how deeply Isabella is ingrained in Julian’s heart. Any woman can marry into the Hayes family and bear a Hayes child, except her.” Over the years, to prevent Julian from ever getting involved with Isabella again, Mrs. Hayes had acted with ruthless efficiency, not only erasing all traces of Isabella’s existence but also making it clear in their social circles. Anyone in Emerald City who dared to mention Isabella again would be crossing the Hayes family. But after five years of peace, Julian still recovered his memory. After remembering everything, he almost immediately flew abroad. Just yesterday, I found out I was pregnant and heard he was returning. I eagerly rushed to the airport to meet him, only to see him walking out of the VIP lounge hand-in-hand with a woman. I drove after them, only to discover Julian hadn’t just brought Isabella back from abroad, but had settled her in a secluded villa he owned. Seeing him carefully hide Isabella away, my heart plummeted to my stomach. Right then, I knew it was time for me to leave.

Jade POV I packed up everything Julian had given me over the past five years. Except for the designer bags and sparkling jewelry, I told Maria to throw everything else away. Maria picked up a glass jar filled with paper stars and asked, “Ms. Miller, are these to be thrown away too?” Those colorful paper stars were ones I’d taught Julian to fold when he was hospitalized after his car crash. I remembered him then, newly amnesiac, with a volatile and erratic temper, no one could get close to him. The moment I pushed open his hospital room door, he’ threw a cup at me, hitting my forehead and breaking the skin, telling me to get out. Blood streamed down my forehead, but I wasn’t angry or upset. Instead, my gaze was soft as I asked if he’d hurt his hand. With the most gentle patience, I taught him to fold paper stars, accompanied him during his physical therapy, massaged his head when he had headaches, told him stories when he couldn’t sleep, and personally cooked him nutritious meals, ensuring no two were the same for a week straight. I attended to every little detail, never once complaining, finally earning his acceptance and affection. I still remember the day he was discharged. Julian knelt before me, holding a jar full of paper stars. “I told myself I’d fold one star for every bit more I loved you. Once the jar was full, I’d propose.” “Now it’s full, Jade. Will you marry me?” His words were sincere and profound, his eyes overflowing with a tender devotion that felt boundless. Our five years of marriage had been wonderfully happy, like a dream. But now, it was time for the dream to end. I softly told Maria, “Just throw them all away.” “Alright.” The call came just as I’d settled in for the night. It was Mr. Peterson, the butler. “Mrs. Hayes’s having Mr. Hayes disciplined. Severely. Please come and intervene!” I dressed and rushed back to the Hayes estate. From Mr. Peterson, I learned that Julian had tried to sneak Isabella back, but had failed to keep it from Mrs. Hayes. She had Isabella seized. Julian had raced home to plead for her. Mrs. Hayes was furious. “How dare you bring that woman back? Do you have no respect for your father’s memory?” “It was Isabella’s parents who harmed Dad. They’ve already paid the price. Isabella is innocent.” “Innocent? The daughter of the people who killed your father? She bears some of the blame too! Protecting her like this, you’re not only disrespecting your father but also Jade, who has stood by you all these years!” Julian frowned for a moment, his expression complicated, but his words were entirely in defense of Isabella. “Isabella has suffered enough these past few years abroad. I can’t abandon her.” Mrs. Hayes’s voice was sharp, her eyes blazing. “Are you saying you intend to protect her no matter what?” “If you still refuse to let Isabella go, then let me atone for her. I’m willing to accept any punishment, I only ask that you release her and don’t trouble her further.” I never imagined he would go this far for Isabella. His words stunned me, and Mrs. Hayes nearly fainted from rage. “Don’t you know, Jade… she…” “Mom!” Just as Mrs. Hayes was about to blurt out the fact of my pregnancy, my face changed dramatically, and I quickly interrupted her. I walked over, forcing a strained smile to soothe her. “We can talk this over. Please don’t be angry. It’s not worth ruining your health.” If Julian were to find out I was pregnant, the memory-recovered Julian probably wouldn’t let this child be born. Mrs. Hayes must have realized this too. She swallowed her words and angrily demanded of Julian, “Are you truly willing to accept punishment for Isabella?” Julian’s answer was swift and unyielding. “Yes.” “Fine then, I’ll grant your wish!” The Hayes family’s punishments were severe. He endured it in near-silence, teeth gritted, breath a ragged hiss, until the blood loss dragged him into unconsciousness. Throughout the ordeal, he gritted his teeth, not uttering a single sound, until he was barely clinging to life, losing consciousness from blood loss. After, they rushed the unconscious Julian to the hospital. Despite my pregnancy, I stayed by his bedside day and night, taking care of him. The peace shattered the next afternoon. The door to his room flew open without warning. The moment I turned, a sharp, unexpected slap landed across my face. Isabella stood there, fury incarnate. “You! You’re his wife! You were there! How could you just stand there and watch? How could you let them beat him within an inch of his life without saying a word? What kind of monster are you?!”

Jade POV I barely hesitated, raising my hand and slapping her back. “If it weren’t for you, would he have been punished? What right do you have to question me for not pleading for him?” Unexpectedly, Isabella was stunned that I’d hit her back, then became even angrier. “Jade, Julian has been so good to you these past few years. Is this how you repay him?” “What do you want me to do?” I wanted to plead for him, but he willingly accepted the punishment for the daughter of the woman who killed his own father. How could I possibly utter a single word of appeal? Isabella accused me furiously. “I never realized you were so cold-blooded. You don’t deserve to be with him!” I sneered. “I don’t deserve to be with him, but you, the daughter of his enemy, do?” “Enough!” Julian had woken up at some point. Isabella’s eyes immediately welled up, and she burst into tears, throwing herself into his arms. “Julian, you’re finally awake! Do you know how much you scared me?” Julian gently patted her back, his voice soft and low. “Did my mom bother you again?” Isabella shook her head, still crying. “After you accepted the punishment, Mrs. Hayes had her people release me.” Julian let out a sigh of relief. “That’s good.” Mrs. Hayes must have released Isabella because she didn’t want to completely alienate her only son and heir for her sake. Julian allowed Isabella to cling to his battered body. The scene looked like a loving couple, while I felt like an outsider, out of place and unwelcome. A heavy, suffocating feeling settled in my chest, and I felt a piercing, burning pain from the Datura tattoo on my ankle. So I quietly turned and left the hospital room. Julian stayed in the hospital for several days, and Isabella remained by his side for all of them. I knew better than to intrude on them at the hospital. I hired a nurse and had Maria deliver his meals three times a day. Maria also updated me on his recovery. One day, while I was engrossed in my sketches, Mrs. Hayes called. Mrs. Hayes asked about the baby. “The doctor said everything’s fine, no issues.” “You need to make sure you’re getting enough nutrition. Let me know immediately if anything changes.” “Okay.” Mrs. Hayes was silent for a moment. “Julian is being discharged today. Aren’t you going to pick him up?” My gaze fell, and the tattoo on my ankle seemed to throb faintly again. I pressed my lips together. “With Isabella there, I’d just be in the way. Besides, we’re getting divorced soon.” Mrs. Hayes sighed. “Jade, I’ve seen your and Julian’s feelings for each other over these years. If you’re willing to stay by his side, I can assure you, no one will be able to touch your position as Mrs. Hayes.” But no one could guarantee that Julian’s heart wouldn’t belong to Isabella. “Mrs. Hayes, our original agreement was simply for me to bear his child, take the money, and leave. That’s all.” To the world, I called her “Mom.” In private, I maintained a wall of polite distance-she remained “Mrs. Hayes.” I used the formality as a mantra, a reminder: This began as a transaction. Don’t get lost in the role. But after five years, I had gotten lost. Profoundly so. I had begun to imagine a real life, a real future with him. No one knew that my agreement with Mrs. Hayes wasn’t just about the money. I had actually met Julian when I was very young. Many years ago, he’d taken up residence in my heart. But as it turned out, what wasn’t mine would never truly be mine. After hanging up with Mrs. Hayes, I put down my pen and drove out of the villa. I found a tattoo parlor on the side of the road. The owner looked at the tattoo on my ankle. “This flower is beautifully and carefully done. Are you sure you want to remove it?” I said flatly, “Remove it.” “Alright. It’s going to hurt a bit, so bear with it.” I looked at the tattoo on my ankle. Julian had learned the art for me, etching a black datura onto my skin himself during our first married year. He’d asked what I wanted. I’d said a black datura. Julian had looked puzzled. “Why this flower? Does it mean something to you?” I’d smiled. “No. I just like it.” He never knew its meaning: a wandering love, a desperate passion that sees its own end clearly. Just like my love for him. Now the dream was over. My love for him was fading, wilting like the datura blossom vanishing from my skin. I left the tattoo parlor, the ghost of the needle’s sting still on my arm. I hadn’t even reached my car when a Bentley glided to the curb. The door opened, and Julian stepped out. He looked quite surprised. “Jade? What are you doing here?”

Jade POV As soon as he asked, Julian seemed to remember something, and his handsome face clouded over. “Are you following me?” I was about to say no. Isabella got out of the car. “I think it’s just a coincidence. Ms. Miller wouldn’t stoop to following us.” “It is a coincidence. I’ll be going now, you two carry on.” I turned to leave, but Isabella grabbed my arm. “We haven’t formally met. Since we’ve run into each other, why don’t you join us for a meal, Ms. Miller?” She turned to the tall, imposing man beside her. “Julian, you don’t mind if I invite Ms. Miller, do you?” Julian’s eyes flickered with a complex expression for a few seconds, but ultimately, he didn’t refuse her suggestion. I was led into the restaurant. After we ordered, Isabella smiled at me. “Ms. Miller, you might not know, but Julian and I started dating in college. Many of our friends envied our relationship.” “These past few years, even though I was far away abroad due to unavoidable circumstances, I’ve heard things about you and Julian.” “Ms. Miller, I’m very grateful that you took such good care of Julian these past few years.” Seeing her openly grasp Julian’s hand, I immediately understood. Isabella had invited me to this meal to stake her claim. I noticed Julian made no move to pull his hand away. I wasn’t surprised, yet my heart still ached as if tiny ants were gnawing at it. I didn’t reply, instead making an excuse to go to the restroom. When I came out of the restroom, I saw Julian, tall and imposing, leaning against the wall. His eyes were murky. “Jade, Isabella and I-” “You don’t need to explain. I understand.” I tried to leave, but he suddenly grabbed my wrist. “I know this isn’t fair to you, but she suffered so much alone abroad these past few years. If I hadn’t brought her back, she wouldn’t have survived out there.” A bitter ache tightened in my chest, forcing my gaze up to his. “Do you truly believe the Hayes would ever accept her?” He knew the answer. The Hayes would never accept Isabella. His lips thinned. “You will remain my wife. I won’t divorce you over this. But my heart…” But his heart was no longer mine. I thought of the past five years, how he’d rejected all flirtatious advances from other women for me, openly declaring I was his one and only, both in public and private. He remembered my every preference, my annual birthday, and every single one of our anniversaries. Even things I’d forgotten myself, he would meticulously remember for me. Yet that profound, devoted love was no longer exclusively mine. I forced a smile. “Tomorrow is our wedding anniversary.” “Jade…” “Just one more anniversary with me.” One last time. Because there would never be another. Let this be our final toast to what we once were. Julian was silent for a moment, then agreed. He released my hand, and I walked out of the restroom first, returning to our table. Julian and I leaving our seats one after the other had already displeased Isabella. Isabella watched me coldly. “What did you say to Julian?” I replied coolly, “None of your business.” “Jade, can’t you see by now? Julian loves me. I should be his wife! You’re just a thief who took advantage of his amnesia to steal five years of his affection for me!” Facing Isabella’s almost twisted fury, I sneered, “A thief is still better than the daughter of his enemy, isn’t she?” “Then I’ll make you see clearly whether it’s you, the thief, who matters more to him, or me, the daughter of his enemy!” Isabella exploded. She seized my wrists and slammed my palms down onto the red-hot stove burner. I didn’t even have time to react. A white-hot, violent agony shot up my arms and seared itself into my mind. Out of the corner of my watering eyes, I saw Julian rush over. Sensing him, Isabella instantly released me. With deliberate, chilling calm, she pressed her own hand onto the burner. A sharp, theatrical scream tore from her. “Isabella!” Julian was at her side in an instant. He saw her scalded hand, scooped her into his arms, and rushed out. “Julian-” I wanted to call out to him, but he was already gone. He never once looked back at me, even though my burns were far worse. Cold sweat drenched me. The pain ripped through every nerve, and soon, I fainted.

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Accidentally Stumbling into the Cow Herd Group, My gentle and virtuous sister-in-law is actually the top S-grade cow in there! Her job is surprisingly so thrilling! And my brother has no idea, even urging her to keep taking those supplements. Seeing her milk cravings gradually intensify, I could no longer hold back… I was playing with my newborn nephew, when a friend sent me a sleazy emoji, asking if I wanted some milk. I thought maybe my buddy Zach had a good source, perfect for buying some for my nephew, so I said sure, send the link. No link came, but an invite to join a group did. A QR code for a group called “Milk Cow Herd.” I couldn’t help but wonder, is it fresh-squeezed? Out of curiosity, I joined the chat. While waiting, I asked my friend what kind of milk it was and how the quality was. “I’m buying it for my little nephew, quality has to be top-notch!” Unexpectedly, Zach burst out laughing: “No way, no way, you really can’t tell what kind of milk this is?!” I frowned: “Stop teasing, just tell me!” Zach chuckled and dodged: “You’ll know once you join the group in a bit. Don’t blame me for not warning you—better find a private spot.” Knowing Zach’s personality, I figured it wasn’t that simple. Sure enough, after joining, it blew my mind. I went back to my room, locked the door, and as soon as I entered, a few messages popped up. “A-grade milk is pretty good, fragrant and thick.” “You’re new, right? I suggest trying S-grade—that taste is extra smooth, but S-grade is the most expensive.” “How expensive?” “One cup ten grand, direct five grand? Wait, no—$1,000 a cup, direct $5,000.” “Holy crap, but if it’s as good as you say, it’s worth it.” What the hell, milk at $1,000 a cup? The most expensive formula I’ve seen is like $100 a can. $1,000 a cup—this is sky-high! Scammers! Just as I was about to leave the group and report it, a chat log was sent. The group owner @ me: “Welcome new friend, check the chat history above for cow photos and prices. Like one, DM me.” I excitedly clicked in, wanting to see what milk was worth more than gold. What caught my eye was a photo of massive breasts! Snow-white peaks with a pink pearl right in the middle, a milky white droplet oozing from the tip of the pink pearl, making your mouth water. I sharp-eyed spotted a small star-shaped tattoo in the cleavage. This woman is so wild! Tattooing right in the middle of her chest. Below the photo: “S-grade, $1,000 a cup, direct $5,000.” Scrolling down, photos labeled A, B, C, D, all kinds. They were all stunning, but none compared to the first S-grade I saw. The round, full, perky curve really made you want to grab and knead hard. Looking at these photos had my face flushing, heart pounding, swallowing saliva repeatedly. I quickly called Zach; he seemed to be waiting, picked up in a second. “What the hell are you playing at?” My voice was trembling, body getting hotter, my lower half tightening as expected. Zach let out a wicked laugh: “Hahaha, how’s that? From your voice, I know you’re satisfied.” I was about to curse him out for this messed-up stuff—getting caught would be fun in jail. Then a door-opening sound came from outside, my heart jumped to my throat, I hung up immediately. I suddenly remembered—I came home specifically to see my newborn nephew, hadn’t told my brother yet. Hope they didn’t hear? In that moment, a sucking sound came from outside, seemed like in the living room. I held my breath, cracked the door to peek.

From the crack in my door, I saw a woman on the sofa across the hall. Her body curved in a perfect S shape. She cradled my newborn nephew in her arms. His tiny mouth latched onto her pink nipple. He sucked steadily. Each pull made her full, pale breast lift and fall in a slow, hypnotic rhythm. My gaze drifted lower without permission. Lingering on the soft swell. The way her skin flushed warm under his feeding. Then recognition hit. This was my sister-in-law. Heat flooded my face. I jerked back from the door. But my ears still burned. Pulse loud in my head. Something tugged at memory. I leaned forward again. Peeked carefully. My eyes fixed on her cleavage. There it was. A small star-shaped tattoo nestled right in the center. My stomach dropped. It matched the tattoo on the S-grade cow from the group photos. Exact spot. Same delicate lines. The curve of her breasts rose identical to those pictures. Full. Firm. Perky in the same impossible way. Skin so smooth it begged to be touched. Nipple still glistening from my nephew’s mouth. A sharp ache twisted low in my gut. Desire mixed with shock. I couldn’t tear my eyes away. Every gentle bounce as she shifted sent a jolt through me. While I stood frozen, my phone rang loudly. The sound shattered the quiet. My heart slammed against my ribs.It was that idiot Zach! I panicked trying to silence it, then my sister-in-law’s voice rang out. “Who is it?” I turned off the phone, cleared my throat, and shouted out. “It’s me.” “ Ethan? You came back without saying anything.” I awkwardly replied: “Too tired, came to see the little guy and fell asleep.” Opening the door, my sister-in-law had already dressed, though a few drops of liquid still lingered on her jeans, unwiped. She’d put my nephew back in his room, asked what I wanted to eat—she’d cook. She wore tight jeans outlining perfect curves, a white blouse stretched to the limit by two massive melons, like they’d burst any second. Thinking she’s the top S-grade in the cow group, I choked. Emily was my brother’s second wife, kind, gentle, virtuous—no flaws. But if she’s doing that behind his back, I’ll find evidence and make her divorce my brother! All sorts of thoughts jumbled my mind. “There is no need, I’ll go back to sleep.” She nodded without saying more. I went to my room, opened my phone—Zach had sent several voice messages. Clicked the first: Zach still laughing. “Hey hey, you shy or what? Hahaha, didn’t think you’d be so innocent.” “I warn you, don’t report it! Heard someone did before—useless, and got a leg broken.” “Anyway, I haven’t tried yet.” He muttered low. Then Zach explained: $1,000 for fresh-squeezed to drink, $5,000 definitely direct from the source. Finally, seeing no reply, teased: “Where’d you go? Couldn’t handle it and went to jerk off?” I twitched, cursed: “You jerk off!” Ignored him after, reopened the group, found that photo again. The round curve, pink tips—identical to my sister-in-law’s. To confirm if S-grade was her, I messaged Zach to book S-grade, record the squeezing process. Then gritted teeth, transferred $1,000. Free milk—Zach happily agreed! Soon Zach said booked, time tomorrow 3 PM. Evening, my brother came home. I looked gloomy, not knowing how to speak. “Darling, remember to take the supplements I bought.” My brother set the fancy bottle on the table, eyes soft on Emily. I couldn’t help the quiet task. “She probably doesn’t need more, right?” Those breasts of hers were already massive, heavy and round, straining every button on her blouse. They looked bigger than my nephew’s head. Any more growth and the fabric wouldn’t stand a chance. Truth was, my brother looked worn out. Thinner since last time. Cheeks hollow. He was the one who needed boosting. He waved me off. “You wouldn’t understand.” I let it drop. Later that night, fresh from the shower, I collapsed on the bed. Phone lit up. Video from Zach. S-grade teaser, he wrote. I hit play. Pink sheer lingerie clung to her body. Thin fabric hid nothing. Full breasts swayed with every slow twist of her hips. Nipples dark against the pale material. Hard. Begging attention. She moved closer to the camera. Breath hitching audible. One hand slid up. Fingers hooked the strap. Pulled it down. A perfect breast spilled free. Heavy. Glistening at the tip with a bead of milk. She cupped it from below. Lifted. Squeezed gently. The pearl-hard nipple pointed straight at me. Another drop formed. Swelled. Fell. Her soft moan filled my ears. She pushed the breast toward the lens. Closer. Closer. Until the screen was nothing but soft, wet skin. Video cut to black. Heat slammed through me. Cock throbbed hard against my thigh. I pictured Emily in that lingerie. Those same full tits in my hands. Milk warm on my tongue. Imagined pinning her down. Sucking until she gasped my name. Tomorrow Zach would taste her for a thousand bucks. Direct from the source. Jealousy burned hot. Mixed with raw want. My hand moved down without thinking. Gripped tight. One stroke and I knew a cold shower wouldn’t be enough tonight. I needed her. Soon.

Next day, 2 PM. I reminded Zach to record—for evidence to show brother. But this guy no reply till 2:30. Seeing sister-in-law already out, I was antsy like on hot coals. Damn! Unreliable at crucial moment! Called Zach frantically, finally connected at 2:45. Zach weakly said he couldn’t go—got hit by a car just leaving. “What the hell, such coincidence??” Clenched fist—only me then. “Alright bro, rest; I’ll visit after.” “Wait—” Hung up, vaguely heard two words before disconnect. But anxious to reach by 3, ignored. Arrived exactly 3:01 at the door. Rushed, just threw on mask and sunglasses. Hope not recognized. Nervous, rubbing hands, rang doorbell. After a while, door opened. It was sister-in-law Emily. I lowered eyes disappointed. My brother treats her well, buys expensive supplements without question. Plus, he’s a factory owner, good salary. If in trouble, tell him—why do this? But in a flash, hid emotions, stared straight at Emily. She wore last night’s pink sheer, with her gentle calm face—made you want to hurt her bad. Wearing so little—not afraid clients go further while drinking?? “Mr. Zach, not coming in?” Sister-in-law unconsciously rubbed shoulders, her two melons squeezed together by arms. Her scent filled my nose. Entered, Emily pulled a black blindfold from bag, covered eyes. Sat on bed, lifted one side, exposed full melon. “Mr. Zach, I know you don’t want face seen—I blindfolded, come quick!” “Huh?” Her actions stunned me. Isn’t $1,000 just one cup? Her pose—like ready for direct mouth. She hesitated: “Mr. Zach, your $5,000 allows direct…” Suddenly, she smirked, grabbed me to bed, flipped and straddled. “Zach, don’t be shy.” “Once, there’ll be twice.” “I’m amazing.” She cooed, leaned down. Before I spoke, mouth blocked. Felt soft skin spreading over body, instinctively gripped her slim waist, making Emily moan. The big thing in mouth kept pushing in.

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I was harassed by a stranger on the subway, almost assaulted, when he showed up. He was the guy I’d been crushing on for over two years— my best friend’s cousin. With this kind of proximity, I had the advantage, so I made my move, seducing him in every way until I finally got him into bed. “Whew… just made it!” I squeezed onto the crowded subway, panting as I sat down and reached for my phone to text my bestie. But as I glanced down, I realized something was seriously wrong. My full, pale cleavage had two obvious points sticking out! To look good for reuniting with my long-lost best friend, I’d dressed up carefully today. Wanting cute photos, I wore a low-cut halter top with nipple pasties underneath, but now somehow… The train jolted, and without any real support, they started bouncing. That’s when a sketchy guy in a face mask shuffled over from the other side and sat next to me. I quickly hunched over, trying to hide it, terrified he’d notice. But the next second, a big hand landed on my back. Then it slid down, squeezing my waist—not too hard, not too soft. “Ah…” I couldn’t hold back a soft moan. Realizing what happened, I clapped a hand over my mouth. But the guy grabbed my wrist with his rough hand and pulled it toward him. My hand was forced onto his belt buckle. “You…” I started to yell, but he covered my mouth and leaned in close to my ear, whispering slowly: “Go ahead and scream if you’re not afraid of embarrassing yourself. Better yet, let the whole train know you’re going out braless.” “You don’t want this getting filmed and posted online, do you?” He had a point. The train wasn’t empty—if things escalated and it went viral, my life would be ruined. But this was public transportation; even if he had bad intentions, he couldn’t do much. Seeing me quiet down, the creep smirked triumphantly, let go, and pulled down his mask, revealing yellowed teeth. I gagged in disgust, but that seemed to piss him off. One hand clamped the back of my neck while the other unzipped his pants! My head couldn’t resist the pressure; I was forced to bend down, inching closer to his foul-smelling crotch. That’s when it hit me—I’d been wrong from the start. Endless tolerance only gets you hurt! Better to be embarrassed than assaulted by a stranger! “Help! Help!” I screamed. As I struggled desperately, the hand on my neck suddenly went limp. Then I was yanked into a warm embrace. “Get lost now, or I’m calling the cops.” A deep, attractive male voice sounded in my ear. The pervert was all bark and no bite; hearing that, he zipped up frantically and bolted off at the next stop. “You okay?” The guy’s tone was incredibly gentle. I slowly looked up at him. The moment I saw his face, I froze. I knew him—not just knew him, he was the senior I’d crushed on for over two years in college—Michael Gao! “I-I’m fine, thank you.” I looked down, mortified, wishing the floor would swallow me. Then I felt warmth on my shoulders. He took off his jacket and draped it over me. He glanced at me thoughtfully, then held out his phone. On the screen was a photo—a selfie of me and my best friend. “Sarah Jenkins is my cousin. She mentioned her bestie was coming today—it must be you.” “I’ve been staying at her place these days. Come. Come on, let’s head back together.” The guy I’d crushed on was my best friend’s cousin! Yeah, I’d told Sarah about my crush, but never showed her his photo and always just called him “senior.” If I’d known this connection, I’d have made a move ages ago! But… it probably wasn’t too late now. I gave him a shy glance and nodded.

Besties reuniting means drinks all around. Michael drank plenty too. By the end, Sarah passed out face-down on the table. But I wasn’t drunk. I knew some things you can only pull off pretending to be wasted. So I pressed a palm to my forehead. Acted dizzy. Slumped straight into his lap. My head rested against his thigh. Warm. Firm. “You’ve had too much.” Alcohol gave me courage. I reached up. Touched his face. “You’re so handsome, Michael.” Fingers slid slow down his cheek. Over stubble. Down his throat. Felt his Adam’s apple bob. Lower still. Along collarbone. Over the hard planes of his chest. When I reached his abs, his large hand clamped mine fast. “You’re drunk.” Voice low. Rough. Sexy as sin. “Let me take you to your room.” “Okay… to the room.” I pouted. “But I can’t walk. Carry me.” He didn’t hesitate. Arms slid under me. Lifted me effortless. “Good. I’ll carry you.” Michael stared down. Desire burned open in his eyes. Dark. Hungry. My heart raced. Thought I’d won. But then his gaze cleared. Control snapped back. He carried me inside. Laid me gentle on the bed. Knelt. Slipped off my shoes one by one. Tucked the blanket over me. Stood to leave. I kicked the covers off. Whined soft. “Michael… don’t go. I’m so hot…” “These clothes… too tight. Hard to take off…” “Michael… Michael…” I sat up swaying. Grabbed his hand. Yanked hard. He wasn’t ready. Stumbled forward. Fell over me. His full weight pinned me a second. Then he caught himself on one arm. But his free hand landed perfect—right on my soft chest. Palm pressed warm through thin fabric. Nipple hardened instant under the pressure. Electricity shot everywhere. Tingles. Heat. Wet rush between my thighs. Breath caught. Body arched up into his touch without thinking. He froze. Eyes locked on mine. Pupils blown wide. I couldn’t stop now. Too far gone. My smaller hand covered his big one. Guided it. Pressed firmer. Made him squeeze. Soft flesh filled his palm. I moaned quiet. “Michael…” Voice breathy. “Does that feel good?” “Mmm, ye—” Before he finished, he pinched himself hard and jumped off me. “Sorry, I drank too much. Rest well—I’m going.” He fled the room like he was escaping. I sighed and flopped back. Was I really not attractive to him at all? Or did he prefer sweet and innocent types, not aggressive ones? If so, tomorrow morning I’d apologize! No, that would be too obvious. I’d pretend I blacked out from drinking—remember nothing. Then build a pure, sweet-girl image and slowly break down his defenses until he fell for me! Lost in thought, I heard strange noises. Listening closely, they were coming from next door—Michael’s room! I tiptoed to his door; it was ajar, a small crack open. Peeking in, my eyes widened. Michael was shirtless, leaning against the headboard, lower half covered by a gray blanket, his hand moving rhythmically under it. Guys need release sometimes—understandable. But what shocked me: as his movements lifted the blanket edge, I saw he was holding something purple. That purple was my lace thong with ties—I’d just washed it and hung it on the balcony tonight! Smiling, I gently pushed the door open.

The door slid open silently. Michael had his head thrown back in pleasure, oblivious to me entering. Seeing him like that made me itch with desire—this man was irresistible no matter what. I crept slowly toward the bed. Just as I reached the edge, he sensed something and snapped his eyes open. The second he saw me, panic hit. Michael’s face flushed; he clutched the sheet tight around his waist. He tried to stand, but the blanket was too small—if he did, his back would be fully exposed. So he stayed seated, eyes darting away, refusing to look at me. Like a kid caught misbehaving. I bent down and picked up the thong he’d dropped in his panic. “Oh! Michael, this… isn’t this mine…” I pretended to be shy, coquettishly tossing it into his lap. “You’re so bad! Stealing my panties to do naughty things! I hate you…” “Sorry, I… I…” To my surprise, Michael just apologized—no excuses. No wonder I picked him—he was a good guy! I sat on the bed and pressed a finger to his lips. “Michael, I’m not mad. I just… don’t understand.” “Understand what?” he asked. I stared intensely and leaned closer: “I just don’t get it—I’m right here. Why use my panties when you could have me?” “And if you’re using those, you need the set—can’t do without the bra, right?” As I spoke, I reached back, unclasped my bra, and slid it off my arms. Then, teasingly pinching the strap, I dangled it in front of him. If he was holding back before, he completely lost it now. His eyes burned with raw desire, ready to consume me. He flipped me onto the bed. Roughly snatching the bra, he pinned both my wrists above my head with one hand. “Michael, what are you doing?” I asked innocently. He smirked, leaning close to my ear: “You.” Then he bit my earlobe.

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Three years ago, at a product launch, I punched my ex-wife Victoria’s then-boyfriend, Blake, so hard he went deaf in one ear. I was detained. Victoria filed for divorce the next morning. From a jail cell, I learned she’d married him. My friends knew how possessive I was, and they expected me to reclaim Victoria the moment I got out. Instead, I disappeared. Until my name was called out at a bustling tourist spot. “How many skewers do you want?” I asked politely, “And do you want extra spice?” Victoria’s eyes welled up. “You…you even forgot I never eat spicy food?” … My voice remained perfectly even, a flat professional courtesy. “Apologies. We serve hundreds of people a night. Safer to ask than to assume.” For a moment, the only sound was her sharp, indrawn breath, followed by the restless shuffle of the queue behind her. “Are you going to order or not? This is the TikTok spot. Move it or lose your spot.” Victoria stared at me for a long time, her eyes aching, before she finally lowered her head and quickly ordered a few skewers. “No spice.” I offered a polite smile. “Seven to ten minutes. Please wait over there.” With that, I bent my head, focused on the grill. Every movement was precise and efficient. Victoria stared at my cracked, swollen hands, then suddenly snatched the skewer right out of them. “Alex! Stop doing this!” I snatched the skewer back, a deep frown creasing my forehead. “Ma’am, please don’t interrupt my work. There are many other customers waiting.” The customer in line behind her sounded annoyed. “Are you out of your mind? You’re stopping the owner from making a living, do you want him to starve?” Victoria looked as if she’d been stung. “What do you guys know? Alex is completely wasting his talent here! You couldn’t possibly understand his ambitions.” The customers eyed me with amusement. “What, his old flame?” “I used to have big ambitions too, but now I drive a taxi every day.” “Right? I wanted to be a billionaire, but now I’m buried under loans.” Victoria looked at these people as if they were idiots, her eyes filled with disdain. “There’s no reasoning with you people.” She turned back to me, her eyes shining with fervor. “Alex, I…I believe you’re not doing this willingly. The code and programs you developed are the most brilliant things in the world. If you wanted to, you could make millions in a snap. Why are you wasting yourself here?” Before I could answer, her eyes reddened with self-reproach. “Is it because of me?” “I know what happened back then hit you hard, but I never imagined you’d fall into such despair, to end up like this…” Her eyes were filled with pity, as if I was doing something utterly degrading. My gaze remained calm. “Ma’am, if you don’t want to eat, I can cancel your order. Please don’t interfere with my business.” Victoria froze completely, her eyes a mix of disbelief and sorrow. She sat back down, tears welling up. “Who said I’m not eating? I want to eat.” I turned and continued to finish the skewers in my hand. Victoria ate while shedding tears, her eyes frequently darting towards me, hoping I would comfort her like I used to. But I only slightly frowned, then refilled her tissue box. “Ma’am, if you need help, there’s a police station about five hundred yards away.” At my words, Victoria finally couldn’t bear my indifference. She covered her face and ran off. It wasn’t until I was about to pack up my stall. Victoria, who had been hiding in the shadows for a long time, suddenly spoke. “How long have you been doing this?” She pulled out a stack of cash and placed it in front of me. “I’m here on vacation. If you spend two hours showing me around, you’ll earn more than you do with this stall.”

My gaze landed on the thick wad of cash. Three, maybe four thousand. Enough for the doll Lily had been eyeing for weeks. The skewers were sold out. Only an idiot would walk away from honest money. “Alright, I know this place inside out.” I smiled, taking the money, not feeling any embarrassment. Victoria’s voice was unsteady. “You…you never used to care about money like this. Small money.” “There was that time…some heir tried to buy me a drink for half a million. You broke a million-dollar bottle of cognac over his head. It cost us a deal worth ten times that.” Looking at my grease-stained, cheap T-shirt, her expression was indescribable. “Your skin is sensitive. You couldn’t wear cheap polyester. You only wore tailored pure wool suits, and even a pair of plain socks cost enough to buy your entire stall.” She couldn’t understand how the once dashing, extravagant man could have changed so much. I didn’t respond, just smiled and pointed towards the building on the distant cliff, like a castle in the clouds. “That structure, built right on the cliff face, is a local landmark.” I naturally introduced the attraction to her, then turned back to ask. “Have you been up there?” Victoria had been watching me, and she shook her head blankly. “Go take a look. When you see the vast world spread out before your eyes, you’ll understand.” I once thought I could never let go of Victoria. Now, thinking back, it was truly laughable. Victoria met my honest gaze, devoid of any love, and felt a pang in her heart. “Okay.” On the way up the mountain, I acted like a dutiful guide, enthusiastically telling her about the local culture and traditions. When we passed other vendors, I’d greet them cheerfully. “Alex, moonlighting as a guide again?” “Young people certainly have stamina, working late guiding tourists up the mountain for extra cash.” Victoria looked at my slender profile and quietly asked. “Do you often work as a guide?” I answered frankly. “Sometimes I show tourists around, but none of them are as generous as you.” I flashed a wide, genuine smile. Victoria finally realized, at that moment, that I was genuinely happy about this small sum of money I would have scorned before. It wasn’t about trying to get a rise out of her. “Alex, don’t be like this.” She suddenly grabbed my hand, her voice earnest. “Even if we’re divorced, I don’t want to see you fall apart like this.” “You’re not an ordinary person. Even if you’ve been to prison, you can still make a comeback.” She pulled out her phone and quickly typed in a bank account number. “I was always afraid to contact you. I thought you were doing well, but I never expected you to…This money is what I owe you. Take it and start a new business.” Without a moment’s hesitation, she typed in the amount: five million. I just watched Victoria, silent. She thought I was silently accepting the money, but then her phone screen flashed a notification: the recipient’s bank account was closed. She was completely stunned. “Alex…do you hate me?” She looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears. “This is the account you opened when you proposed. The number was my birthday and lucky numbers. You said you’d keep it forever, that every time you spent money, it was saving happiness for me. Don’t you want me to be happy anymore?” My gaze calmly shifted to the man behind her. “Your happiness is here.”

Victoria paused, then slowly turned her head. Blake stood quietly not far away, extending his hand to her. “Honey, I’ve been waiting for you up here.” He pulled out his phone. “I messaged you hours ago to meet at the summit. I didn’t expect you to take so long to come up. I was worried something had happened to you.” Victoria stared at me blankly, my words echoing in her mind. So brief, yet so hurtful. Seeing Victoria didn’t move, Blake walked forward and took her hand, then whispered intimately in her ear. “Who’s this?” Compared to three years ago, I had a few more lines of hardship on my face, but my looks hadn’t really changed. Blake, however, deliberately pretended not to recognize me. Victoria stiffly introduced me. “This…this is Alex.” Blake gasped dramatically, covering his mouth. “My God, Alex. What happened to you? You look…weathered.” His disgusted gaze fell on my faded T-shirt. “Adidai? Alex, really. If you can’t afford the real thing, must you try quite so hard? Wearing such an obvious counterfeit…it’s just sad.” Then he realized he’d said the wrong thing and shrank back behind Victoria, looking scared. “I’m always blunt, I didn’t mean any harm. Please don’t hit me again. Victoria spent millions getting me a cochlear implant.” Blake’s eyes were full of provocation, but I didn’t react at all. Victoria had always considered Blake’s bluntness a virtue, but now it sounded grating. “Blake, enough.” Blake rolled his eyes at me impatiently, then whined to Victoria. “Okay, my dearest wife, it’s my fault, I spoke without thinking. But Alex really has changed so much from three years ago. I was just too shocked.” Blake pulled a premium black card from his pocket. “I just heard Victoria wants to help you, but your bank account must have been frozen three years ago, right? This card has five million in it. It should be enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life.” I reached out to push the card back, but Blake sneered, then let go. The bank card slapped against the muddy ground. Blake looked at me apologetically. “Oops, my hand slipped.” “I remember you used to be a germaphobe. But I guess after selling BBQ for so long, you wouldn’t have that anymore, huh?” “I heard street food from stalls is often unsanitary and disgusting. You don’t mind selling this stuff for money, and you’re quite hardy.” The customers nearby, holding their skewers, all looked disgusted, questioning their food. My gaze instantly hardened, fixed on him. Victoria thought I was about to hit Blake, and she nervously shielded him. I picked up the mud-stained bank card and tossed it into Blake’s chest. “Every ingredient here passes inspection,” I said, my voice calm and firm. “If you have proof of wrongdoing, feel free to report it.” My response seemed to tip the scales. Customers stepped forward to defend me. “The lamb and beef skewers here are freshly cut and skewered by the owner early in the morning. We all saw it!” “He even livestreams the whole process-from buying the meat at the market to marinating it. Everything’s clean. There’s nothing unsanitary about this place!” Blake tried to say something else, but Victoria, her face hardened, pulled him back. “Blake, that’s enough.” Blake reluctantly shut his mouth, not daring to say more. Victoria looked at my eyes, devoid of any warmth, and her fingers slowly tightened. “I apologize for disturbing you today. It won’t happen again.” “You…you’ve changed so much.”

Three years ago, Victoria promised that after the product launch, she’d announce our marriage to the media. But when I changed into my clothes, I saw Victoria walk onto the stage with Blake. She not only praised him as a tech genius but also blushed and looked down when reporters asked about her love life, letting the public assume they were a couple. I wanted to suppress my anger and confront her after the press conference. But then an intimate photo of Victoria suddenly appeared on my phone. The man in it was Blake, on stage, smirking at me, as if I was already a defeated man. Back then, I was young, hot-headed, and couldn’t stand any disrespect. I stormed onto the stage and landed punch after punch on Blake’s face, beating him senseless. Victoria also recalled the scene, giving me a bitter, slightly fearful smile. “If you had been as calm then as you are now, maybe we wouldn’t have ended up this way.” As soon as she said that, Blake’s face instantly went pale. I remained silent, not responding, inwardly calculating how much time I had left. Her eyes, complex, lingered on me, then she finally sighed. “Blake’s behavior just now was inappropriate. I apologize for him.” She took the card from Blake’s hand, carefully wiped it clean, then handed it to me. “Please take it. If you don’t, I’ll feel terrible.” Blake’s eyes were red with anger, but he still pretended to be magnanimous. My gaze was calm as I looked at Victoria, then I stepped back, creating distance between us. “Since your husband is here, I won’t bother you two anymore.” “I don’t need this money.” Saying that, I pulled out a few bills from the money Victoria had just given me. “I originally planned to be your guide for two hours. It’s half an hour short, so I’m returning a quarter of the money.” I pressed the money into Victoria’s hand and turned to leave. “Alex!” She yelled at me. “Can’t you just give in a little!” “Three years ago, just because Blake went on stage before you to introduce himself, you beat him deaf and refused to apologize.” “And now, because of your pride, you’re refusing my help.” “Don’t you know you’re only hurting yourself?” “Didn’t you say you wanted to build a career, to make something of yourself? Look at you now…Your mom’s dying wish was to see you settled down with a family, have you forgotten?” Seeing the shift in my expression, Seeing the shift in my expression, Victoria pressed on. “Take this. Live a decent life. Find a wife, have a child. Consider it…my compensation.” Just as she was about to press the card into my hand, a little girl rushed into my arms. “Daddy, why aren’t you home yet? Mommy and I were so worried about you.” I broke into a wide smile, hugging my daughter and kissing her. “I’ll take you home right now.” Victoria’s expression instantly froze, and her voice trembled. “This…is this your daughter?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “327544”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #现实主义Realistic #校园School #重生Reborn

I decided to give up applying to the same university as Ethan and chose the school of my own dreams. My parents were surprised—I had finally come to my senses. Only I knew that in my previous life, I had chased him to the train station; my parents followed me and died in a car accident on the way home. I was forced into marriage, gave birth, dropped out of school, and spent twenty years carrying the entire family alone. In the end, my husband smashed my head with his own hands. When I opened my eyes again, I was back at the moment of decision. This time, I will no longer be bound by the past, nor will I save his life. The day I changed my college application, my dad walked into the study, glanced at me, and nodded approvingly. “Good. With your Stanford acceptance, you should attend a top university! Stop chasing after that Carter boy. What’s so great about him anyway?” My mom, hearing this from the kitchen, rushed in and pulled my dad away, giving him a stern look. I watched my parents leave, smiling, but suddenly felt a lump in my throat. In my previous life, I had run out late at night to find Ethan at the train station. My parents, searching for me, were killed by a drunk truck driver. I never got to see them one last time. Fighting back tears, I moved the mouse and clicked the confirm button to change my college application without hesitation.

In my previous life, Ethan, my childhood sweetheart, suddenly announced he wanted to become a singer and pursue his dreams in New York. But before that, he had always said being with me and attending the same college was his dream. I had even wasted my Ivy League admission to apply to the same average state college as him. But two days before the acceptance letters arrived, he suddenly said he was going to New York to chase his dreams. His sick parents, Mr. and Mrs. Carter, came knocking on our door in the middle of the night, begging me to help find their son. In my previous life, I went. My parents, worried about me, followed and ended up in a car accident. Ethan was later found by me. When he heard his parents say that my parents’ deaths were his fault, they insisted he had to make it up to me. So they forced Ethan to get engaged to me, planning for us to marry right after college graduation. But I got pregnant in my sophomore year and had to take a break from school. We hastily got married, I went through pregnancy and childbirth, and took care of the baby. Two years flew by, and just as I was excitedly planning to return to school, his parents fell seriously ill and came to stay with us for treatment. Ethan said to me: “They’re my parents, they need help now. We’re family. It’s what you do.” As for himself, he always claimed work was too busy, that he needed to make money for “our future,” pushing the full burden of caring for his parents and our child onto me. At the time, to save Ethan’s face, I didn’t mention that his monthly salary of $3,500 wasn’t even enough to cover the children’s formula and normal household expenses. Later, I had to sell our old house to pay for his parents’ medical bills and raise our two children. But while I gave up my education and struggled to manage the whole family, he was out making a bunch of fair-weather friends with his meager $3,500 salary. What little money he had left, he spent on making music, claiming he was fulfilling his dream. Crushed by the pressure of family life and after several failed attempts at communication, we started having huge fights. Things got so bad that our marriage counselor even suggested a trial separation, and Ethan’s boss had warned him that his personal issues were affecting the team. He began calling me bitter and narrow-minded, saying if it wasn’t for me forcing him to come back, he would have already become a big star in New York. He even accused me of using my parents’ death to emotionally blackmail him into marrying me. I didn’t hold back either, calling him delusional, saying his terrible voice made his dream of becoming a singer nothing but a pipe dream! When he brought up my parents’ death, I went crazy, lunging at him to shut him up, only to be violently pushed away. After that, Ethan deliberately started staying away from home. His parents, unable to see their son, blamed everything on me, complaining that I was immature and petty, only knowing how to anger their son. They completely forgot how they had begged me to find their son in the first place. In this miserable life, I gritted my teeth and tightened my belt to do odd jobs and earn money to support the family. But the children I had worked so hard to raise were never close to me, instead being affectionate towards the irresponsible Ethan. I thought the children would understand when they grew up, but I waited for over twenty years, until they were married with families of their own. But they competed to have Ethan live with them, while remaining cold and distant towards me. “Mom, you controlled us too much in the past. We don’t want to hear your lectures anymore.” “Dad’s youthful dreams were stifled by you. Now that he’s older, we want to take him to New York to chase his dreams again.” “Grandpa and Grandma were right. You just want everyone to live according to your plans. You’re so selfish!” I never expected my children to say such things. Devastated, I returned home to find Ethan smugly packing his bags, gloating that he was about to leave me for a better life. After dedicating over twenty years to this family, all I was left with was a reputation for being selfish and controlling. Why did Ethan get to be so carefree? Never taking care of the family or responsibilities, yet ending up as the open-minded father in our children’s eyes? I rushed forward and pushed Ethan. He was stunned for a moment, then immediately grabbed a vase and smashed it towards me. “Damn you, you dare to lay hands on me? I’ll beat you to death…” So our deaths were actually the consequence of our mutual assault. As we both fell to the ground, I was still praying in my heart: if there’s a next life, please don’t let me meet Ethan again.

The day I was reborn happened to be the day I changed my college application. Seeing my parents still by my side, I was determined not to get involved with anything related to Ethan again. After the college entrance exam, parties came one after another. I had just finished a gathering with close classmates when I saw Ethan in the distance, laughing and chatting with his buddies. “I heard Ethan isn’t going to college. He’s going to New York to be a singer!” “Wow, isn’t that the trendy thing now, chasing dreams in the big city? If he becomes a big star, should we ask for some autographed photos now to keep as investments?” “Chloe, didn’t you grow up with Ethan? Did you know he was going to New York?” My friend nudged me, and my gaze happened to meet Ethan’s as he turned his head. With just that one look, I was certain that Ethan had also been reborn. “I don’t know. I have something to do. I’m leaving first.” I turned away without a second thought. If he wants to go to New York, let him go. What does his life have to do with me?

As the day of Ethan’s departure drew near, I whined to my parents about missing Grandma and wanting them to take me to see the new pony at her place. My parents always doted on me, so they packed up without hesitation and took me out. Just then, Mrs. Carter opened her door and was surprised to see us leaving. “Going out?” My dad nodded with a smile, “The kid misses her grandma, so we’re going for a few days.” Mrs. Carter smiled and nodded, watching us leave. I pretended to be nonchalant, but in reality, I was clenching my fists tightly in hatred, trying not to let my emotions show. It was laughable how in my previous life, I thought Mrs. Carter truly cared for me. It wasn’t until later that I realized her intentions were never pure from the beginning. She had long had her eye on our house, which was why she worked so hard to bring Ethan and me together after my parents passed away. Back then, having lost my parents, I was crying every day. The gentle and good-natured Mrs. Carter took care of me daily, making me let down all my defenses. Add to that my feelings for Ethan, and I naturally agreed. Little did I know that they had been planning this all along. I took a deep breath, hiding the slight trembling caused by my anger, and started chatting with my parents about Grandma’s new pony, while catching a glimpse of Ethan hurrying away out of the corner of my eye. Ethan must have realized that I had also been reborn, so he had to move up his plan to run away and chase his dreams. My parents and I had just arrived at Grandma’s house and were enjoying dinner when Mom received a call from Mrs. Carter. “Ethan is insisting on going to New York to be a singer. He’s not going to college anymore. Now he’s acting like it’s a matter of life and death, and his father and I can’t talk him out of it… Could you ask Chloe to come back and try to persuade him? After all, the two kids are close, and Ethan listens to Chloe!” The script was almost identical to my previous life. Mom looked at me, a bit troubled. After all, it wasn’t easy to go back at this time from the countryside. I calmly put down my fork and took the phone from Mom’s hand. “Mrs. Carter, this is Ethan’s own decision. I have no right to interfere, and even if I did, he would resent me for it. I think you should respect his choice!” I hung up decisively, not forgetting to block Mrs. Carter’s number. My swift series of actions left even my parents stunned. Grandma was the first to speak up, telling them to continue eating, muttering that other people’s business is their own karma, and we shouldn’t interfere. I thought Grandma’s words couldn’t be more right! After dinner, I was crouching in the yard, petting the dog’s soft head, when my parents came over. “Chloe, what’s been going on with you lately…” Mom hesitated, “It feels like you’re different somehow.” Dad didn’t say anything, but he looked at me with concern. Their gaze made my nose tingle, and as I wiped my eyes, I realized there were actually tears. “Mom, Dad, let me tell you something. I had a dream.” I lied about having a dream and told them everything that happened in my previous life. When they learned that after their deaths, I had been manipulated by the Carter family all along, Dad’s face turned as black as the bottom of a pot. They always believed me, especially since I said the story began with Ethan wanting to go to New York and Mrs. Carter begging me to find him. They also understood why I suddenly wanted to come to Grandma’s house and why I adamantly refused to go find Ethan. “Oh, my dear child, my precious baby.” My mom was always easily moved to tears. Even though she knew it was just a dream, she quickly hugged me, her tears falling on my head one by one, feeling incredibly sorry for me. Dad lit a cigarette nearby and made a decision. “Chloe having this dream might mean that the Carter family is bad luck for us. I’ve decided, we’ll move as soon as we get back! Get far away from them.” I didn’t expect my parents to support me to this extent. My nose tingled, and I nodded tearfully. At the same time, I hugged Mom tighter, feeling her warmth. We stayed in the countryside for half a month, and I noticeably tanned quite a bit. When we left, Grandma packed a car full of food for us. We still had to live in the old house for a while before moving. As soon as we arrived at our front door, Mrs. Carter quickly opened her door. With red, teary eyes, she looked at us, unable to hide the traces of resentment in her gaze.

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After the divorce, he barged into my home with a knife in his hand. He said, “You think getting divorced means you can get rid of me?” “I’m telling you right now—you’ll never escape me for the rest of your life.” In that moment, I finally realized— he had never seen me as a person. I was nothing more than something he had lost control of and was determined to take back. What he didn’t know was this: it was nothing but a trap I had set, meant to get rid of him once and for all. 0 Lucas and I had fallen in love naturally. We worked for the same company but in different departments. One day, we met while collaborating on the same project. That was when Lucas fell for me, head over heels. He went out of his way to win my affection. At 28, I wasn’t getting any younger, and my parents were pressing me to settle down. They even threatened to set me up with someone if I didn’t bring home a boyfriend for the holidays. Lucas, tall and broad-shouldered with a bright, charming demeanor, had exactly the look that melted my heart. It didn’t take long for me to agree to date him. We dated for two years, meeting each other’s families during that time. Eventually, under pressure from both sides, we tied the knot. This year marked our first New Year’s as a married couple. As a daughter living away from home, I couldn’t help but yearn to spend the holidays with my parents. So I suggested to Lucas that we visit his family first, then head to my parents’ place in Oakridge on December 31. Initially, Lucas wasn’t thrilled with the idea, but my persistent coaxing won him over. To sweeten the deal, I bought him the gaming console he’d been eyeing for months but had been too frugal to buy. Once he had that console, a grin never left his face. With the plans finalized, I threw myself into getting everything ready for the trip. Finally, on December 24, we packed up the car and drove to Dry Creek, KY, where Lucas’s family lived. His parents and sisters were delighted to see us, especially since I had thoughtfully prepared expensive gifts for everyone. The first few days at their house were pleasant. Then came December 31. I didn’t want to risk getting stuck in a traffic jam, so on December 30, I loaded everything we’d need for my parents’ house into the car. That night, I encouraged Lucas to get a good night’s rest so we could hit the road early. The thought of reuniting with my family after six months filled me with so much joy that I couldn’t sleep. The alarm rang early, and I sprang out of bed. Lucas was still asleep, so I gently woke him up. “Babe, I’m going to wash up. You should get up too, freshen up, and we’ll grab a quick bite before heading out.” I was too excited to notice the odd expression flickering across his face. After washing up and getting dressed, I waited for a long while, but Lucas didn’t come out. By the time I checked the clock, it was already 9:30 a.m. Worried about holiday traffic, I went back to the bedroom to wake him. When I opened the door, I found Lucas burrowed under the covers, snoring so loudly it could shake the walls. Peeling back the blanket, I saw the dark circles under his eyes and remembered how hard he’d worked preparing for the holidays. Feeling a twinge of guilt, I decided we could leave after lunch. Quietly, I tucked him back in and left the room. In the yard, I called my parents to let them know we’d be late and went to the kitchen to prepare lunch. 0

After lunch, I began urging Lucas to start driving me back to my parents’ place. “Everything’s packed. You just need to drive,” I said, grabbing his arm and leading him toward the car. “It’s a long trip, but you can drive the first leg. When we get to a rest area, we’ll swap, and I’ll take over. That way, we won’t get too tired, and we might even make it in time for dinner!” I was so caught up in my excitement that I didn’t notice the growing irritation on Lucas’s face. As we approached the yard gate, he suddenly pulled his arm away and bellowed, “I’m not going!” The force of his words stunned me. I froze for a moment, staring at him in disbelief. “What did you say?” I stammered. His face was etched with frustration. Without sparing me a glance, he repeated, “I said, I’m not going,” and turned to walk back into the house. I hurried after him, grabbing his arm again. “Lucas Mills! What do you mean, you’re not going? You promised we’d spend New Year’s at my parents’ house! What’s this all about?” He yanked his arm free and snapped, “I said I’m not going because I don’t feel like it. Can’t you understand that?” He stormed off, leaving me standing there, stunned by his blunt dismissal. As I watched him walk away, realization hit me like a ton of bricks. The promise to spend New Year’s Eve with my family had been a lie. He had lured me to Dry Creek, far from my parents in Oakridge, knowing I’d be trapped. Without the car keys, and with the holiday rush making it impossible to buy a bus ticket, I had no way of leaving. It was all a calculated move to ensure that I had no choice but to stay here for New Year’s. Fury welled up inside me. I charged toward him and kicked him hard in the leg. “Lucas Mills! You planned this, didn’t you? You never intended to visit my parents, did you? You lied to me!” Lucas winced but quickly switched tactics, his tone softening as he tried to pacify me. “Maya, think about it. You’re my wife now. You do as I say. We’re staying here.” I let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not how my family works! My parents, my brother, and my sister all want me to come home. Just because your family doesn’t want their daughters back doesn’t mean mine feels the same way!” Seeing that I wasn’t backing down, Lucas tried again, his voice turning cold. “Maya, if you leave, what will people here think? What will they say about me? About my parents? Can’t you just give me this one year? Stay here, for my sake.” “Your sake?” I snapped, glaring at him. “Your reputation? That’s what this is about? You agreed to go, and now you’re backing out. You’re disgusting!” Lucas’s expression darkened, but he admitted, “If I hadn’t agreed, you would’ve argued endlessly. So yeah, I said yes to keep you quiet.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you seriously trying to pin this on me?!” I demanded. To my shock, he nodded. “Well, yeah. Who else am I supposed to blame, Maya?” A laugh bubbled out of me, bitter and furious. “Lucas Mills, you have the nerve to blame me for your lies? You’re unbelievable!” Before I could say more, a commotion drew my attention. Lucas’s parents, Patricia and Robert, along with his sisters, Chloe and Hailey, poured out of the house. Their expressions ranged from smug satisfaction to thinly veiled disdain. Clearly, they’d overheard the argument. Lucas’s ego couldn’t take the hit. His face twisted in anger, and before I could react, he slapped me across the face. The force of the blow left me reeling, tears springing to my eyes. “You coward!” I yelled, clutching my stinging cheek. Furious, I raised my hand to strike back, but he grabbed my wrist and twisted it sharply. Pain shot through my arm. Before I could cry out, a heavy blow landed on my head. The world spun, and my vision blurred. The fireplace poker he’d swung at me clattered to the ground as I crumpled. The moment I hit the dirt, his kicks and punches started raining down. “You don’t listen!” he shouted. “You had to keep pushing me!” “You’re desperate to go back to Oakridge? Why? Got a lover waiting for you?” “You’re nothing but trouble!” I curled into a ball, shielding my head with my hands, trying to endure the relentless assault. Amid the chaos, I heard his family’s voices, loud and gleeful. “Teach her a lesson, Lucas! She needs to learn to obey!” Patricia crowed. “Don’t hit her too hard, son. You don’t want her too bruised for tonight,” Robert added, laughing cruelly. “She needs this,” Chloe chimed in. “Who does she think she is, trying to go back to her parents’ house?” “Hit her harder, Lucas!” Hailey yelled. “If she’s still moving, you’re not doing it right!” Their taunts echoed around me as I lay there, battered and broken. It was in that moment I realized the full extent of the nightmare I’d walked into. This family wasn’t just cruel—they were monsters. I tried to push myself up, to fight back, but the dizziness overwhelmed me. The first blow to my head must have caused a concussion. My vision swam, and darkness crept in. As my consciousness slipped away, I heard their laughter, loud and unrelenting, as they returned to the house. I was left alone in the yard, discarded like trash. 0

The winter wind bit into my skin like icy needles, making every part of me ache. The cold night air howled through the yard as I slowly opened my eyes. It was a moonless, star-filled night. I was still lying in the corner of the Mills’ yard, abandoned and forgotten. Inside the house, Lucas’s family was gathered, enjoying their New Year’s Eve dinner and watching the ball drop on TV. The pain radiating from my body brought me fully back to my senses. I tried to move, wincing as I propped myself up against the corner of the wall. The sting in my head and the bruises on my body were made worse by the bitter wind cutting through my clothes. I was cold to my core—inside and out. That’s when everything became clear. The Mills weren’t just cruel. They were monsters. They had stood by as Lucas beat me, egging him on, as if my suffering were a spectator sport. This was their way of showing me my place. In their eyes, now that I was married to Lucas, I belonged to him—and by extension, to them. If I dared to resist their rules, they’d punish me however they wanted. I wasn’t a wife to them. I was their servant, their obedient daughter-in-law, their personal ATM. I looked through the window at their cheerful gathering. Holding onto the wall for support, I moved as silently as possible. Fortunately, Lucas’s bedroom was far enough from the dining room that they couldn’t hear me. I crept into his room, my fingers trembling as I rummaged through his clothes. Finally, I felt the cold metal of the car keys in his pocket. With the keys secured, I grabbed my phone and purse. In the dark, I slipped back out of the bedroom and toward the main gate. Luckily, the gate wasn’t fully shut, just left slightly ajar. I nudged it open just enough to squeeze through, keeping as quiet as possible. Once outside, I ran. I ran as fast as my battered body would allow, heading for the community parking lot where all the neighbors parked their cars. The moonlight guided me, and the pain in my body spurred me on. When I finally reached the car, I climbed in and locked the doors. My hands shook as I inserted the key into the ignition. For the first time all night, I allowed myself a small sigh of relief. I pulled myself together and started driving, leaving Dry Creek and the Mills far behind. On the way, I called my parents. Through tears and sobs, I recounted everything that had happened. On the other end of the line, my dad’s furious voice shouted curses while my mom and siblings exclaimed in outrage. They told me to head straight for my house in Knoxville, where I’d be safe, and assured me they’d come the next day with the whole family to confront the Mills. By the time I reached my house, I was emotionally and physically drained. I barely managed to crawl into bed before sleep claimed me, the tension finally leaving my body. 0

I woke up to the smell of food—a warm, comforting scent that coaxed me from sleep. When I opened my eyes, my mom was sitting by my bedside, holding a bowl of my favorite chicken and rice soup. “Maya, you’re awake,” she said gently, setting the bowl on the nightstand and helping me sit up. Her eyes filled with worry as she brushed a hand over my forehead. “Eat a little, sweetie, and then get some more rest,” she said softly. I nodded, taking the bowl and sipping the soup. Its warmth spread through me, easing the chill in my soul. I had just finished eating when a loud shout echoed from the living room. “I’ll kill his sorry ass!” It was my dad. A loud slap of a hand hitting the table followed. I quickly got dressed and went downstairs with my mom. The living room was packed with family members, all of whom had rushed over after hearing what happened. My dad, his temper blazing as usual, had already been yelling for a solid ten minutes, supported by my uncles. When I entered the room, everyone turned to look at me, their faces filled with anger and concern. My uncles pulled out their phones, calling their kids and urging them to bring more people over for support. My sister and cousins hurried over to help me to the couch. As women, they understood my pain on a deeper level, and their expressions mirrored my own outrage and sorrow. Soon, the house was overflowing with family members, especially my brothers and male cousins, who came ready to back me up. Everyone turned to me, asking what I wanted to do next. “Maya, whatever you decide, we’re with you,” my cousin Ryan said firmly. “Yeah, Maya! This is outrageous! Who just beats someone like that?” another chimed in. The room buzzed with voices, all discussing how to handle the Mills and get justice for me. My parents were the most decisive of all. “Maya, you need to divorce that bastard,” my dad said firmly. “We’ll support you,” my mom added. “We’re not too old to work, and we’ve got good pensions. We can take care of you, no problem.” My siblings chimed in, agreeing wholeheartedly. “Maya, I’ll send you money every month if it comes to that,” Nathan promised. “Same here,” Chloe added. “Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen.” “Divorce him, Maya,” they said in unison. They handed me their credit cards without hesitation. “Here, use these. Buy whatever you need,” Chloe insisted. I leaned back on the couch, their unwavering support filling me with newfound resolve. “You don’t need to worry. I’m divorcing him, no question about it. And I’ll make sure to get every cent I deserve from that scumbag!” My determination reassured them, and they began making plans to confront Lucas’s family. Just as we were about to leave, my phone rang. It was Lucas. I smirked, put him on speaker, and answered. “What do you want, Lucas?” “Maya Reyes! Where the hell are you?!” he bellowed. “Where are my car keys? Where’s the car? Did you seriously steal my car? You’d better get your ass back here, or I’ll break your legs!” Everyone in the room fell silent, listening as he ranted. “It’s just New Year’s! You’re throwing a fit because I wouldn’t take you home? You know wives are supposed to stay with their husband’s family for the holidays!” “And don’t make a big deal about me hitting you. That’s just how things are! A wife needs to be taught a lesson now and then!” “You didn’t die, did you? Didn’t break any bones? So what’s the problem? You should be thanking me for teaching you a lesson!” “Get your ass back here and start cooking dinner. Everyone’s waiting for you!” Before he could hang up, my dad snatched the phone. “So hitting my daughter was for her own good, huh? Should I come over and ‘teach’ you a lesson by breaking a few bones?” “Why don’t you go clean a toilet with that dirty mouth of yours instead of talking about my daughter?” “Though I suppose it’s hard for you to tell the difference between your brain and your gut. They’re both full of crap!” Lucas was left stammering, completely out of comebacks. “D-Dad, it’s not like that… Maya must’ve exaggerated. You’re misunderstanding the situation…” Before he could continue, my mom grabbed the phone. “My daughter doesn’t lie, you spineless coward. You’d better prepare yourself!” She slammed the phone down and pulled us all toward the door.

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My husband brought his mistress home for the night. Finding our son an inconvenience, he locked him inside an airtight closet. Twelve hours later, the child’s fingernails were torn, bones exposed, and he died alone in the dark. When I called his father to come back and identify the body, he laughed on the phone and said, “You’ll really make up any lie, won’t you?” I was on a business trip overseas when I got a call from Amanda, our housekeeper. She told me something had happened to my son and urged me to come home immediately. I booked the nearest flight, rushing frantically to the hospital. All I saw was the red light glowing above the operating room door. Soon, the light went out, and the doctor emerged, his voice heavy with sorrow as he looked at us. “Please accept our deepest condolences. We did everything we could.” I felt utterly frozen, my fingertips numb, a sudden acid reflux rising in my stomach, and my heart felt like it was clutched by a giant hand. I fought to stay conscious, my fingernails digging deep into my palms. Mr. and Mrs. Carter, Ethan’s parents, who had rushed back from out of town, saw the scene. They were furious, demanding to know from Amanda what had happened. Amanda, seeing my pale face, quickly stepped forward to support me, then began to explain to Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Mr. Carter brought Ms. Miller home to stay. Little Liam accidentally snagged her stockings while playing with his toy plane, so Mr. Carter locked Liam in the closet.” My mind went blank with a loud buzz, and my legs gave out, sending me to my knees. Our house had a custom-built, solid wood closet. It was heavy and airtight. According to Amanda, Liam had been locked inside for at least a dozen hours. “That animal! Chloe, call him! Tell him to get back here!” I fumbled for my phone, my trembling fingers hitting the wrong buttons several times. When the call connected, Ethan’s impatient voice answered. “Why are you calling? Are you looking for another fight?” My voice was hollow. “Our son… he’s dead.” Ethan on the other end scoffed. “You’ll really say any lie to stop me from being with Madison, won’t you?” Before I could speak, I heard Madison Miller’s voice in the background. “Ethan, did you book the hotel?” I heard Ethan’s doting voice. “All set. This time, no one unimportant will ruin our trip.” Madison whined playfully. “Last time, your family kept calling and bothering us. That won’t happen again, right?” “Don’t worry, I’ll block her number soon.” Madison’s tinkling laugh carried through the phone, her voice syrupy sweet. “My stockings got ruined yesterday. You’ll have to make it up to me today, big time.”

Beside me, Mrs. Carter’s lips trembled with rage. She snatched the phone from my hand. “Do you even know what happened to your son?! You’re still out there with that hussy!” Ethan’s voice was cold, filled with impatience. “So he was locked up for a bit. What’s the big deal? If Chloe hadn’t corrupted our son, making him intentionally target Madison, why would I have punished him?” “Mom, can you stop being so ridiculous? I married her back just as you wanted. What more do you want?” Mr. Carter’s face turned crimson with anger. He roared, “You get back here right now!” But from the other end, I heard Madison’s tearful voice. “Ethan, is it your family causing trouble again?” Ethan sighed impatiently. “Dad, Mom, please stop this nonsense. Madison and I will be back after our trip.” The call disconnected. I felt completely hollowed out, staring despairingly at Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Liam is gone. I have nothing left. Let me go.” Just then, the police arrived, having received a call. They took us to the station. Soon, the autopsy results came out. “The deceased’s cause of death was asphyxiation in a confined space. His fingernails were torn off, flesh ripped, and bones exposed. This indicates extreme struggle and attempts to break free before death.” “We’ve taken the house’s housekeeper in for questioning. Now, please tell us what you know.” After ensuring we weren’t deliberately abusing the child, the police’s attitude softened considerably. Amanda, who had been summoned, was in tears. “Mr. Carter was the one who locked the child in the closet. And to prevent us from letting the child out, he sent all of us away.” “I was worried about Liam, so after Mr. Carter left, I immediately rushed back to let him out.” “When I opened the closet, there was blood everywhere, and the child’s face was blue.” I couldn’t imagine what Liam had endured in that closet. He must have been so scared and in so much pain. He must have been screaming for his mom to save him in his last moments.

For a moment, the world spun around me, my head buzzing, and my body felt like dead weight, collapsing onto the police station chair. Mrs. Carter, seeing my state, couldn’t bear it and pulled me into her embrace. Finally, Mr. Carter spoke. “Chloe, it’s our fault. Our family failed to raise Ethan properly.” I covered my face with my hands, large tears rolling down my cheeks, and I sobbed, gut-wrenching cries tearing from my throat. Fifteen years ago, my parents died, leaving behind a vast inheritance. My relatives swarmed me, like vultures circling prey. At that time, Ethan and I were practically childhood sweethearts. Mr. and Mrs. Carter stepped in, helping me secure my parents’ legacy. The day Mr. and Mrs. Carter brought me home, Ethan held my hand, his eyes filled with love and a firm determination to protect me. He had promised then that he would be good to me forever, that he would always protect me. But after our son was born, he grew increasingly distant and busy. Until I saw him, the man who claimed to be in a meeting, with his arm around Madison Miller, splurging cash at the mall. I screamed, demanding to know why he was doing this to me, but he just shoved me away in disgust, looking down on me with contempt. “Enough. Look at yourself. You don’t hold a candle to Madison.” In that moment, I suddenly understood that all the love we once shared had vanished like smoke. Yet, a sliver of hope lingered in my heart. I quietly stayed home, caring for our child, managing Ethan’s life, hoping that one day he would change his mind. But this time, for Madison Miller, he actually laid hands on his own child. Mr. Carter lowered his head, his face etched with sorrow, his voice choked. “Our child was killed by him. How could our family produce such an animal?” “Tomorrow, after Liam’s cremation, if you wish to leave, take his ashes with you. Our family has wronged you greatly.” I struggled to my feet, bowing deeply to Mr. and Mrs. Carter. “Thank you for your help all those years ago. I’m taking Liam and leaving this place. I won’t be coming back. Please take good care of yourselves.”

Back home, Ethan’s call came in. “Chloe Hayes, how long are you going to keep up this act? Tell Dad to unblock my cards!” Ethan heard my silence and roared impatiently. “Have you had enough yet?! If you keep this up, we’re getting a divorce. Madison already has my child anyway. You can just take that dead weight of yours and get out of the Carter family!” My voice was calm, numb. “The child is dead.” He scoffed dismissively. “Are you going to claim I killed him, too?” “You’ll really say anything to break up Madison and me.” He hung up, the phone beeping. At the same time, Mr. Bennett, the lawyer Mr. Carter sent, handed me the divorce papers. I signed my name without the slightest hesitation, my mind replaying Liam’s voice. It was Father’s Day. Liam had clumsily made Ethan a handmade card, but Ethan never came home. To this day, I still remember Liam’s disappointed eyes. “Mommy, does Daddy not like me?” “Why does Daddy never play with me or hug me? All the kids in my class get hugs from their Daddies.” I was physically and mentally exhausted. I curled up on Liam’s small bed, the one he slept in before, and fell asleep. The next day, Liam’s body was sent for cremation. As the incinerator hummed, I felt my own heart being burned into a handful of ashes. The staff handed me a delicate ceramic urn. The child who had just recently called me “Mommy” in his sweet, baby voice was now nothing but a cold urn. Mr. and Mrs. Carter wiped their tears, looking as if they had aged ten years overnight. They gently caressed the urn. “After you bury Liam, could you please tell us the address? He is our grandson, after all.” I nodded, my voice choked with emotion. “I only have one request: don’t tell Ethan where Liam is buried.”

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Life Drawing. Every art student knows exactly what I’m talking about. But have you ever wondered why nude models are typically older? I know what you’re thinking. But beyond that, there’s another critical factor. Younger bodies are just more alluring. Professor Yang was a renowned artist brought in from the city to teach at our local academy. By day, I was just one of his many students. But by night, I was his private model. To be blunt, his nude model. At first, I felt incredibly shy, but under Professor Yang’s professional guidance, I gradually grew more confident. When it came to his art, Professor Yang was always extremely serious. During our sessions, I’d constantly adjust my poses to meet his standards until he was satisfied. And inevitably, there was physical contact. I initially thought, “It’s for art— a small sacrifice is nothing.” But as Professor Yang’s actions became bolder, I began to realize. Things were spiraling out of control. My name is Zhang Xuan, and I’m an art student. My grades were so poor that getting into college felt impossible. This was my only shortcut. As my teachers put it, this was my only way to change my life. At the time, I felt resentful, thinking they were belittling me. But later, I had to admit. This path truly altered the course of my life for decades to come. To boost our acceptance rates into top art programs, the school hired the city’s most famous artist to teach us. His name was Yang Bowen. He looked exactly as his title suggested – refined and thoughtful. Because he’d previously taught at well-known academies, we respectfully called him Professor Yang. Unlike other famous artists. Professor Yang was famous for his nude paintings. The young women he painted always had stunning curves, but what always stood out was that the models’ faces were never shown in his art. Yet, this very characteristic sparked countless men’s imaginations. Once, during a city interview, Professor Yang was asked if he’d personally studied the female form to portray it with such exquisite detail. He’d always brush it off with a smile. He always claimed that imagination was vital for an artist, and that his paintings were purely from his mind, without any external reference. But I knew he was lying. Because the nude models in his paintings were all based on real life. And that person was me.

Nude models aren’t uncommon in the art world, but young women rarely take on the role. Even if it’s for the sake of art, it’s hard for young people to put themselves in that position. So, my role as Professor Yang’s private nude model was kept entirely secret. He didn’t want his methods questioned. And I certainly didn’t want my nude body exposed to the public. The fact that the models’ faces never appeared in his paintings was the only decency Professor Yang afforded me. Besides teaching, Professor Yang did most of his creative work late at night. First, because midnight brought more inspiration. Second, it made it easier for me to sneak into the school’s art studio when no one else was around. Under the guise of private lessons, I provided him with material for his art. When I completed the last stroke of a drawing, Professor Yang praised it as he looked at the canvas, “You’ve improved again. At this rate, your spot at a top art academy is secured.” Professor Yang never held back praise, but he never praised a piece of art lightly either. So when he said that, I knew my admission was a sure thing. “Alright, that’s enough for this session. Now it’s time for your payment,” Professor Yang said, turning his gaze to me, his eyes full of impatience. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, and no free lessons either. My payment for Professor Yang’s tutoring was an entire night as his model. Despite my shyness and hesitation, I had to do it to achieve my dream of getting into a top art school. So, under Professor Yang’s watchful eyes, I removed my clothes one by one. Until I was down to just my lingerie, Professor Yang suddenly called out, “Stop.” I looked up, confused, meeting his gaze. His eyes lit up as if he’d discovered a priceless treasure. “Don’t take off any more,” he interrupted. “Just like that. It leaves more to the imagination.” I was positioned on a chair. Before the actual creation began, I’d be adjusted for almost an hour. Professor Yang’s dedication to art bordered on obsession. From my posture to the expression I should hold, he meticulously controlled every detail. Until he achieved his ideal state, he would never begin to draw. Professor Yang stood before me, carefully examining my body. Any imperfections, no matter how small, would be adjusted. The accidental brush of his fingers against my skin always made my limbs stiffen even more. Whenever this happened, Professor Yang would snap, “If you don’t relax, we’ll be stuck like this all night.” I could only tell myself to relax, reminding myself that it was all just for art. Outside this studio, no one would know whose body was in the painting. So, I met Professor Yang’s gaze, and my movements gradually grew bolder. “Yes, exactly!” Professor Yang clapped his hands. “Exaggerate the expression a bit more. You need to show that delicate shyness, that coy femininity.” “Your eyes— make them more alluring.” “Widen your movements, yes, hold it right there.” Although the model’s face would never appear in the painting, Professor Yang always said that only when the model’s expression was right would the painting truly come alive. Professor Yang directed me while his hands moved constantly. Holding the same pose for so long made my body tremble uncontrollably. It wasn’t until Professor Yang stopped drawing, staring intently at the canvas, that I realized the creation was complete. Only this time, his expression wasn’t good. “What’s wrong?” I got up from the chair and walked to his side to look at the artwork with him. “Don’t you feel like something’s missing?” Professor Yang suddenly asked. I looked at him, confused. In my eyes, this painting was already an unattainable masterpiece among our peers. I truly didn’t understand Professor Yang’s demanding standards. My shoulder suddenly felt heavy as Professor Yang placed both hands on them. “That delicate shyness,” His gaze circled my body, then settled on my face. “Yes, you lack that maidenly demureness.” Then, he took another step closer to me. “I think you need help finding that feeling.”

“What feeling?” “The feeling of shyness.” In the interrogation room, Detective Chen, who was questioning me, frowned deeply. After a long pause, he spoke again, “Is it what I think it is?” My throat felt dry, and I couldn’t speak for a moment, only managing a slight nod. “From what I understand, you had just turned eighteen,” he looked at me, enunciating each word. “So if something really happened that night, he was committing a crime.” Yes, how could Professor Yang do something that would ruin his reputation? “So, nothing happened that night.” A flicker of surprise crossed Detective Chen’s face, but he quickly regained his composure. He raised his chin slightly, motioning for me to continue. That night, Professor Yang’s gaze roamed over my body, naked and raw. Like a hunter, cornering its prey. After a tense standoff, he asked, “Do you want our relationship to go a step further?” Even as an inexperienced young woman, I understood what Professor Yang implied. I froze, caught off guard, standing there unsure what to do. “I know you come from a difficult family background, and everyone has low expectations for your studies. I imagine…” he looked at me, each word deliberate, “you’re working so hard to prove them wrong, aren’t you?” It was phrased as a question, yet I heard it as a statement of fact from Professor Yang’s mouth. Professor Yang was right. The reason I swallowed my pride to be his nude model was indeed to gain more respect. I had a dysfunctional family background; my parents divorced, and I lived with my father. Because my academic performance was poor, no one supported me continuing school – not even my teachers. So, I had to make those who looked down on me feel ashamed. Professor Yang understood me too well. But… I never intended to sell my body. Professor Yang didn’t say anything, just watched me, seemingly waiting for my answer. Perhaps too impatient for my response, his fingers slid down my arm, then seized both my hands. “I can give you better inspiration for your art. If you agree, I’ll guarantee you get into your dream college.” He looked at me, his eyes filled with an unsettling blend of artistic fervor and raw desire. Before I graduated, I still needed Professor Yang’s guidance. Instead of outright refusing, I said, “I… I’m not eighteen yet.” But artists are notoriously stubborn. “It doesn’t matter,” Professor Yang tightened his grip, and I felt my arm might shatter. “I’ll wait until you turn eighteen.” He knew my eighteenth birthday was next month. He said, on the day I turned eighteen, I should give myself to him as a gift. That day, I suddenly realized that Professor Yang was not someone I could afford to provoke. “So, you agreed to it?” DetectiveChen’s eyes widened in disbelief, as if he’d heard something incredible. I looked at him, a bitter smile on my face. “DetectiveChen, I never had a choice.” I knew Professor Yang was a married man with a daughter. If I agreed to his terms, I would become the other woman. Even with my intense desire for a top art education, I didn’t want to do something immoral. Without much hesitation, I began to refuse again. “Professor Yang, I can’t…” Before I finished speaking, the grip on my wrist suddenly loosened. Professor Yang released my wrist, and his expression instantly changed. “I advise you to think carefully before you answer me,” he said, looking at me impassively, his voice devoid of warmth. He walked over to the canvas and carefully examined the nude woman’s body in the painting. “I suddenly feel that such a beautiful painting is somewhat incomplete without a face,” he abruptly turned, his eyes fixed on me like a viper’s. “How about I complete it for you?” My heart clenched instantly, and my eyes widened in terror. If the full image of that painting were ever to be made public, forget college, I’d struggle to even continue living in this city. I never imagined Professor Yang would resort to threatening me like this. I frantically shook my head, my voice choked with tears, begging him not to do it. But Professor Yang merely stood there, his gaze a mocking smile, as he scrutinized my body from head to toe. In that moment, I knew I truly had no choice. After a moment’s thought, I slowly approached Professor Yang. Under his slightly surprised gaze, I stood on tiptoe and wrapped my arms around his neck. In a voice only he and I could hear, I whispered, “Okay.” I promised Professor Yang that on my eighteenth birthday, I would give myself to him.

“But actually, you had already decided to kill him that day.” In the interrogation room, Detective Chen looked at me with a somber gaze. I stared at a blank spot on the floor, my hands unconsciously clenching. When I looked up, I met Detective Chen’s eyes. I slowly shook my head. “I never planned that.” Influenced by my dysfunctional family, I was, like Professor Yang, an extreme egoist. Professor Yang wasn’t worth risking my entire future for. “So what exactly happened that night?” Detective Chen clearly didn’t believe my story. “The night Professor Yang was found, only you and he were in the studio.” I lowered my head again, my fingernails digging deeply into my flesh. What happened that night was like a nightmare to me. My eighteenth birthday was no different from any other day. By day, I was one of Professor Yang’s many ordinary students: he taught, and I listened. Until the final evening class bell rang, and students gradually left the studio, leaving just Professor Yang and me, our eyes meeting. He stood at the podium, his lips silently opening and closing. I quickly read his lips: “Are you ready?” Under his raw, scrutinizing gaze, I began to remove my outer clothes, one by one. I couldn’t tell if it was shame or something else, but my face felt flushed. With only one piece of clothing left, Professor Yang stopped me, “No rush.” Under my puzzled gaze, Professor Yang walked to the canvas. He smiled, “You look exceptionally captivating right now.” I don’t think I truly knew what Professor Yang was like in his private life. But his talent and passion for painting were undeniable. He always seemed able to create art anytime, anywhere. I held my pose, and Professor Yang sat before his canvas, both of us in a rare, unspoken understanding. Occasionally, he would look up at me, his face betraying no emotion. I knew that usually, in such cases, he was deep in thought, immersed in his creation. “And then? How did you end up drinking?” Detective Chen’s eyes were full of suspicion. I lowered my head, biting my lip. After every completed painting, he was always exceptionally excited. So that day, Professor Yang suggested we have a drink, a small celebration for our “first time.” Before I could react, he turned off the lights and led me to a corner of the studio. He looked at me, filling my glass with wine. “Have some. Girls are most enchanting when they’re a little tipsy.” I looked at the liquid in the glass, hesitating. I knew I probably couldn’t escape that night. Professor Yang downed his drink in one gulp. For some reason, I felt a surge of fear. If what happened between Professor Yang and me that night were discovered by a third party, I would undoubtedly be the one most affected. Thinking this, I suddenly stood up. “Professor Yang, can you wait for me for a moment?” Professor Yang’s eyes showed confusion, and I quickly explained, “I’ve been holding the same pose for a long time, and I’ve started to sweat. I want to go back to my dorm to wash up first.” I paused, then added, “And change my clothes.” Professor Yang clearly looked impatient, finishing the last sip of his wine. Just when I thought Professor Yang would scold me, he simply waved his hand. “Girls are so much trouble. Go quickly and come right back.” I hadn’t expected Professor Yang to agree so readily, and a wave of secret relief washed over me. Without bothering to straighten my clothes, I stumbled out of the studio in a panic. Although it was just an excuse, I probably couldn’t avoid what was coming that night. Still, having some time to breathe was a good thing. While washing up in my dorm, I secretly prayed that Professor Yang was already drunk and passed out. Maybe… I could still escape. On my way back to the studio, my heart pounded with anxiety. I was terrified of what awaited me that night. But to my shock, the moment I stepped into the studio, I froze. I never imagined I’d encounter an even more terrifying situation. On the table, wine glasses lay scattered. And Professor Yang lay on the floor, his arms limp at his sides. I initially thought Professor Yang was just drunk, so I tried to pull him up. But no matter how I called him, he didn’t react at all.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “327540”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #擦边Steamy #现实主义Realistic #校园School