Author: Momo Chan

1 The day my aunt Teri’s heart began to fail, my father strapped my mother to an operating table, forced a heart transplant, and bought Teri another ten years of life. From that day on, I ran away from home and buried myself in my studies. I graduated at the top of my class and secured a fellowship at the prestigious Medical Research Institute. Ten years later, I developed a fully functional artificial heart. As a highly sought-after specialist, countless desperate souls begged at my door, all vying for a slot to receive the artificial heart. My assistant, Lexi, handed me the latest batch of applications. At the very top of the stack, in bold letters, was my aunt’s name. I took a pen, drew a heavy line through her name, and said, “Denied. Block her permanently.” The applications were sorted by the size of the donation offered. The only reason Teri’s name was at the top was because my biological father, Victor, had offered an astronomical sum. Yet, I crossed it out without a second thought. She had lived on my mother’s stolen heart for a decade. It was time to pay the debt. Lexi took the paper back, her eyes widening as she stared at the dark ink. “Dr. Eva, Vargas MedTech is offering a one-billion-dollar endowment for our research.” “They want to distribute it over ten years, a hundred million annually.” “If we take this, we won’t just secure our funding. We could double the number of charity surgeries we perform every year.” I stared at Lexi until her voice trailed off into a whisper. Ten years. It had been exactly ten years since my mother died. My gaze drifted to the frame on my desk. The original family photo had been torn in half, leaving only a bright, smiling woman holding her young daughter. “I’ll handle the funding,” I said quietly. “But this application is permanently blacklisted.” Lexi looked bewildered. When the artificial heart first launched, I established a strict rule: a fixed portion of our budget must be reserved annually to provide free surgeries for pediatric heart patients. Accepting the Vargas deal meant saving dozens of innocent children, yet I was turning it down. Seeing the absolute resolve in my eyes, Lexi hesitated. “Should I draft the rejection letter to Vargas MedTech?” “Yes,” I replied. She left my office, glancing back at me with concern. A moment later, a notification popped up on my screen. The system’s blacklist count had changed from zero to one. Lexi had been with me since the project’s inception, but she didn’t know the truth. That charity rule wasn’t just policy. It was a tribute to my mother’s soul. I poured my life into this research to prevent another tragedy like the one that took my mother. She was only thirty-eight when she died. The night it happened, I had just received my college acceptance letter. We stayed up late in her bed, talking about my dreams of medical school. I fell asleep beside her, completely unaware when my father dragged her away. By the time I woke up the next morning, the surgery was over. Teri was alive, my mother was a pile of ashes, and I never even got to say goodbye. Instead, I was forced to face my aunt. When she woke in the recovery room, I watched my father rush to her side, weeping with joy as he held her hand. Teri looked at me and promised she would care for me in my mother’s place. But she wasn’t my mother. I would never have a mother again. Once the horrifying truth came to light, I packed my bags and fled. I changed my major to cardiothoracic medicine. From that day on, I consumed textbook after textbook, studying anatomical specimens and tracing the pathways of human hearts until my eyes burned. My life became a relentless cycle of libraries and study rooms, starting at dawn and ending past midnight. I lived like that for eight years. By graduation, I had designed the first prototype. It took another two years of grueling trials and regulatory hurdles to finally bring it to the public. Ten years. I hadn’t seen either of them in a decade. Until today. I sat back down at my desk and pulled up my computer. A clean folder of new patient files was waiting in my inbox, but my hand moved on its own, clicking on the archived Vargas application. When the scan of Teri’s face appeared on my screen, mirroring my mother’s features so closely, a tear slipped past my lashes and splashed onto the keyboard. My phone began to buzz. Lexi knocked twice before bursting in, her face flushed with panic. “Dr. Eva, someone from Vargas MedTech is on the line. I don’t know how they bypassed our system to get your direct number, I couldn’t stop them.” I stared at the vibrating screen. With a slow sweep of my finger, I wiped away the tears. “It’s fine,” I said quietly. Ten years was long enough. “It’s time we had a talk.” 2 I swiped to answer. A voice, both intimately familiar and chillingly distant, filled the line. “Are you the lead developer of the artificial heart? I’m Victor. I assume you know who I am.” “I do,” I replied smoothly. “What is your price? Money? Status? Recognition? I can donate fifteen million, twenty million, call it a blessing for my ailing wife. I’m close friends with your board director. Accept this patient, and I can guarantee you a fast track to department head. Think it over.” When I offered only silence, he immediately tried to sweeten the pot. “In addition to all of that, I can personally transfer shares of Vargas MedTech to your name.” A small, cold smile touched my lips as I cut him off for the first time. “Mr. Victor, those things don’t interest me.” The line went dead silent for a few seconds. “Then tell me what you want,” he demanded. “Name your price.” I chuckled softly. “It isn’t a matter of money. It’s the patient. I won’t operate on her.” Victor let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh. “You won’t? I’ve done my research. You’re the only surgeon capable of performing this specific implantation. Now you’re telling me you won’t do it? Are you playing games with me?” He paused, likely remembering he was the one begging, and forced his tone to soften. “Look, if you do this, if you save her life, I will sign over five percent of Vargas MedTech to you immediately. That is more wealth than you could earn in several lifetimes.” I repeated my words, slowly and deliberately. “Mr. Victor, money is not the issue here.” “Then what is the issue?” Victor practically roared through the receiver. “You’re a doctor! It’s your duty to save lives! Refusing to treat her is no different from murder!” He took a few ragged breaths before continuing, his tone turning venomous. “I’ve looked into your history. I know you’ve bled for this project. You’re deeply in debt from a high-stakes funding agreement you signed years ago, one you still haven’t cleared. I even know you recklessly tested experimental materials on yourself, nearly dying from anaphylactic shock. That funding agreement expires this year, doesn’t it?” “Vargas MedTech is the heavyweight in this industry. With a single word from me, I can ensure no venture capitalist touches your lab. Once I cut off your financial oxygen, your funding dries up. Your project, your career, everything you are will be utterly ruined.” “Is that so?” I let out a soft laugh. “Then you don’t need to trouble yourself on my behalf, Mr. Victor. But if I go down, the woman you’re so desperate to save will go down long before I do. Go ahead and try your worst.” Silence stretched over the line, punctuated only by his heavy, rapid breathing. “What do you actually want? What will it take for you to perform this surgery?” “I’ve already told you,” I said. “No.” A sudden realization seemed to strike him. “Who are you? Do we know each other? Have I crossed you in the past?” My silence only solidified his suspicion. “I don’t care who you are,” he snarled, his patience snapping. “You will save her, whether you want to or not. I expect you to be in that operating room within three hours. If you aren’t, you will face the consequences.” “I’ll be waiting,” I said calmly. I pressed the end-call button, cutting off his threats with a dial tone. I wasn’t afraid of Victor digging into my background. My research was under federal security clearance, and my true identity was classified. I opened an encrypted application on my desktop. Inside lay the puzzle pieces of the truth I had painstakingly gathered over the past ten years, evidence Victor believed he had swept away long ago. It was more than enough to dismantle Vargas MedTech and send both Victor and Teri straight to prison. One click would ruin their reputations instantly. Looking at the torn photo at the corner of my desk, I whispered to the empty room. “I know, Mom. Your heart must be so tired of beating inside her. But please, just wait a little longer. I still have a part to play.” “The fall is always most devastating from the highest peak. Only when Victor feels the exact pain I felt will he truly begin to pay.” 3 Three hours came and went. Victor didn’t get his surgery, but his retaliation arrived right on schedule. A group of federal investigators marched into my office, their expressions stern and uncompromising. “Dr. Eva, an internal whistleblower has filed a formal complaint accusing you of embezzling state research grants. You need to come with us for questioning.” Before I could open my mouth, Lexi stepped forward defensively. “That’s impossible!” Her eyes were wide with shock as she blocked the investigators. “You must have the wrong person! Anyone else in this facility might be capable of that, but not Dr. Eva!” She was on the verge of tears. “A few years ago when our budget ran dry, Dr. Eva sold her own house to keep us afloat. She even pawned her own mother’s heirlooms just to cover the security deposit for our funding.” “Lexi, that’s enough,” I said sharply. She fell silent, tears spilling over her cheeks. I looked around the room. Several members of my research team lowered their gaze, unable to meet my eyes. I had handpicked every one of them, guiding them from the project’s infancy. I had treated them with nothing but fairness and respect. “You all did great,” I murmured, my voice dripping with cold irony. “I won’t forget this.” They confiscated my access cards and seized my research servers. To ensure I didn’t leave the country, they held my passport. Later that evening, Victor’s call came through. “Ready to surrender?” “Never,” I said, and hung up. The next morning, Victor uploaded a video statement to social media. With tears streaming down his face, he pleaded desperately for his wife’s life. “I don’t know what grudge this doctor holds against me, but my wife is completely innocent. She has been confined to a hospital bed for ten long years, watching the world go by through a window.” “Her only wish is to feel the ocean breeze one last time, to see the snow.” “I beg of you, give her that chance. If you agree to perform the surgery, Vargas MedTech will donate three hundred million dollars to artificial heart research and charity care.” The video spread like wildfire, igniting public outrage. With paid bots steering the narrative, I became public enemy number one overnight. The comment sections were brutal. “Who is this doctor? Sounds like a bitter, miserable creature. How can someone be so heartless?” “A human life is on the line, and she’s playing god. Absolutely disgusting.” “Vargas MedTech, tell us where she is! If she won’t do the surgery, we’ll drag her to the hospital ourselves!” “Isn’t saving lives literally a doctor’s job? Revoke her medical license immediately!” “If you have zero empathy, you don’t deserve to live.” It didn’t take long for internet vigilantes to dox me. My name, Eva Vargas, my license plate, and my position at the research institute were posted online for the world to see. Once news of my suspension and embezzlement investigation leaked, angry protesters began gathering near my apartment’s parking garage. The moment I stepped out of the building, rotten eggs and garbage rained down on me. “Monster! You have no right to practice medicine!” “Get out of our city!” In the span of forty-eight hours, I had become a pariah, hunted by the very public I had spent ten years trying to save. 4 I barely managed to scramble into my car and lock the doors before my phone rang again. Victor’s name flashed on the screen. “How does it feel to be the most hated woman in the country? Ready to yield, my dear daughter?” “Shut up,” I hissed, gripping the steering wheel. “Hearing that word come out of your mouth makes me physically sick.” “Does it? That’s rather hurtful. But whether you like it or not, I am your father.” Victor let out a soft laugh, then sighed. “I suggest you agree to my terms soon. After all, if we can’t use the artificial heart, there is always another way to save her.” “Then go find someone else to do your dirty work,” I spat. I ended the call and put the car in drive, but as I pulled out of the garage, I noticed several dark SUVs tailing me. Within minutes, they boxed me in on the highway, forcing my sedan to a screeching halt. The door of the leading black SUV swung open, and a man stepped out. It was Victor. He leaned against the hood of his car, adjusting his cuffs. “Since you refused to do this the easy way, we’ll have to do it the hard way.” Before I could hit the lock button, his bodyguards shattered my driver’s side window, dragged me out, and threw me into the back of his vehicle. Victor climbed in right next to me. “I really wanted you to live, Eva. I truly did. All you had to do was cooperate. But since you’ve chosen to be stubborn, and we have no artificial heart, your own heart will have to replace your mother’s.” My hands were bound tightly behind my back, leaving me with nothing but a lethal glare. “That’s how my mother died ten years ago, wasn’t it?” Victor clipped the end of a cigar, lit it, and took a long, slow drag. He blew a thick cloud of smoke into the tight cabin. “You’re smart, Eva. But just like Judith, you’re far too stubborn.” He glanced at me sideways. “I tried to reason with her. But she refused to listen. She claimed she had promised to take you on a graduation trip, insisting she would only donate her heart after she returned.” “She thought I was an idiot, unable to see she was just trying to buy time. She wanted to stall until Teri died so she could keep living. How could I let that happen?” Rage boiled inside me, threatening to burst. “So you kidnapped her, strapped her down, and stole her heart to keep Teri alive!” “Exactly. Though I must admit, Judith’s heart proved to be just as fragile as she was. Ten years was all it could manage.” Victor turned to look at me, his eyes as cold as stone. “Fortunately, when the doctors told me about her genetic match back then, I made sure she gave birth to you first. Now that her heart is failing, yours will do nicely. If you hadn’t run away a decade ago, I wouldn’t have had to waste so much time chasing after that artificial heart project in the first place.” I gritted my teeth, staring directly into his hollow eyes. “The embezzlement charges, the media campaign, the doxing, it was all you.” He smiled. “But you already knew that, didn’t you?” The SUV pulled into the secluded courtyard of a private clinic, the facility where Teri was being kept. Victor’s men pulled me out of the car. He caught my chin, forcing me to look at him. “Don’t worry, Eva. You will sign a voluntary donor agreement, just like your mother did. When the media reports on your passing, they will say you gave your life to atone for your crimes. It will be poetic.” I spat at his feet, shouting over the roar of the wind. “You will regret this, Victor! You are going to pay for every single thing you’ve done!” He didn’t bother responding. He simply pushed me toward the waiting surgeons. “I’ll be waiting,” he muttered. As soon as my back was turned to him, a cold grin spread across my face. Deep inside my coat pocket, my phone’s screen was glowing, transmitting a live broadcast signal to a secure server. Every confession, every threat, and every detail of how he murdered my mother was currently being broadcasted live to the entire country. They dragged me into the sterile operating room where Teri lay hooked up to a life-support monitor. Seeing me, she wept, reaching her trembling hand toward Victor. “Thank goodness you found her. We can finally be a family again.” She was never innocent. She knew where her first heart came from, and she knew exactly where this one was coming from now. I stared at her, engraving her twisted face into my mind. They strapped me to the cold steel table. The anesthesiologist prepped the syringe, the cold metal needle resting against the vein on the back of my hand. Just as the plunger was about to be pressed, the heavy silence of the corridor shattered. My rescue had arrived. The double doors of the operating room burst open, slamming against the walls with a violent crash. “Police! Nobody move! Put your hands where we can see them!”

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1 The day before our wedding, my fiancé saved my life by throwing himself in front of a speeding car. The impact left him with severe brain trauma, trapping him in a deep coma. A newly developed neurological therapy offered a desperate chance: transferring my consciousness directly into his mind to wake him from the inside out. Before the connection was established, the lead researcher gave me a final, solemn warning. “The human mind is a labyrinth, Gloria, especially when you descend into the subconscious. There is no telling what you might find, or what could go wrong.” “One wrong step, and you could end up with permanent cognitive damage of your own.” I offered a weak, trembling smile. “I’d like to see that idiot try to hurt me.” The machine hummed, my brainwaves aligning with his. When I opened my eyes, a hand was waving right in front of my face. A teenage Jasper, wearing a crisp high school uniform, was staring at me with a look of pure confusion. “Gloria? Hey, are you zoning out on me?” I had materialized in the middle of our old high school classroom. I grabbed his hand, panic driving my voice. “Jasper, listen to me. You’re in a coma right now. We need to…” But he cut me off, leaning in close to whisper in my ear. “Did you give the love letter to Mia yet?” A soft, boyish blush crept across his pale cheeks. The words died in my throat. Mia was my best friend. For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. Before entering, the medical team had explained that this simulated reality was built entirely from the raw materials of his subconscious. Every event, every character, and every relationship here held a profound meaning. Nothing was random. Yet, knowing that only made the cold dread pooling in my chest worse. Why was my partner of ten years, the man I was supposed to marry tomorrow, writing love letters to my best friend in his deepest subconscious? I forced the rising panic down, telling myself it was just a glitch. The human mind is a chaotic web. Writing a letter to Mia in a dream didn’t mean he loved her in reality. I squeezed his hand, determined to stay on track. “Jasper, none of this is real. You are twenty-eight, not eighteen. Your brain created this world after a terrible accident. You need to wake up.” According to clinical data, direct confrontation was the fastest and most reliable method to break the simulation. Ninety percent of patients responded immediately, especially when the message came from the person they cherished most. Jasper had told me a thousand times that I was his entire world. When that car had barreled toward us, he hadn’t hesitated for a single second before shoving me out of harm’s way. That was why I had risked my own sanity, defying my family’s pleas, to come in here and save him. I held my breath, watching his eyes, my heart drumming against my ribs. The doctors said that if the protocol worked, the illusion would fracture right now. But a full minute crawled by. Jasper merely stared at me, his lips twitching before he burst into a loud, bright laugh. “Gloria, have you been binge-watching those sci-fi flicks again?” “What do you mean, a fake world? I think I know the difference between reality and a dream.” He reached out, pressing the back of his hand to my forehead. “No fever. Why are you talking nonsense in the middle of the day?” Frustrated, I grabbed his arm and gave it a sharp pinch. “I’m telling you the truth!” “Ow, okay, okay, uncle!” he laughed, rubbing his arm. “Fine, let’s say you’re telling the truth. Can you just tell me if you delivered the letter to Mia yet?” My hand froze. A dull ache bloomed in my chest. Jasper was smiling, but his eyes were filled with an intense, quiet sincerity. I knew that look all too well. He had worn that exact expression when he promised me we would get into the same university. True to his word, he dragged his grades from the bottom of the class to the top three in a single semester. He had worn it when he vowed to show me the snow-capped peaks of the Alps. He worked three jobs throughout his freshman year, and that winter, we stood together at the summit, the cold wind whipping around us as he swore he would build a fortune so I would never have to worry about a thing. And he had done it, building a multi-million-dollar firm by his junior year, making me the envy of everyone we knew. Now, he was looking at me with that same relentless determination, asking about a love letter to Mia. He wasn’t playing. He meant every word. A bucket of icy water seemed to pour down my spine, freezing me in place. The chatter of the classroom faded into a distant hum. Suddenly, Jasper smiled, waving toward the doorway. “Mia!” 2 I shuddered, snapped back to reality. Mia was standing by the classroom door, offering us a gentle wave. Jasper stared at her, a goofy, love-struck grin plastered across his face. When the warning bell rang, Mia headed back to her own hall. Jasper rubbed his palms together nervously. “You have to give it to her today, Gloria. If you don’t, I’m going to lose my mind and just blurt it out to her face.” Another sharp prick of pain hit my heart. I remained silent for a long moment before looking up at him. “Jasper, what exactly am I to you?” He blinked, then laughed, throwing an arm around my shoulders. “My best bro, obviously! Did you forget our sacred bond? Why else would I trust you with my love letters? You’re the only one I can count on.” A bitter smile touched my lips. The ten years of passionate, devoted love I thought we shared was nothing but a friendship in his subconscious. I used to love his smile. It had always been my anchor. Now, that bright, familiar grin felt like a handful of thorns pressed deep into my skin. When the final bell rang, Mia came to find me. We lived in the same neighborhood and always walked home together. As Jasper walked away, he gave me a series of desperate, pleading looks. I ignored him, my chest tight with a suffocating weight. On the walk home, I finally pulled the envelope from my bag and handed it to Mia. I knew this version of her was just a projection of his mind. But I needed to see how the Mia in his subconscious would respond. She slid the letter out, reading it slowly. Then, she carefully folded it and tucked it into her pocket. I watched her face, clinging to the tiniest, desperate hope that this was all a misunderstanding. “What are you going to do?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. Mia remained quiet for a few seconds, a soft blush spreading across her cheeks. “Actually,” she murmured, “I’ve liked him for a while too.” My stomach dropped. My mind went completely blank. I pinched my arm hard, desperately reminding myself that this Mia wasn’t real. She was a figment of Jasper’s imagination. The real Mia would never do this. In high school, when I first confessed my feelings for Jasper, she had been my biggest cheerleader. And for our wedding, she had spent months helping me plan every detail as if it were her own. But the emotion on this projection’s face was terrifyingly genuine. Was his subconscious somehow creating a perfect, realistic simulation of the future, or had Jasper already confessed to her in the real world long before his accident? The dull ache in my chest sharpened into a piercing physical pain, radiating up into my temples. A loud, high-pitched ringing filled my ears. Through the static, I faintly heard the lead researcher’s panicked voice in my earpiece. “Her vitals are spiking! Gloria, you need to stabilize, please!” “Gloria, are you okay?” Mia’s voice dragged me back as she caught my elbow to keep me from stumbling. Suddenly, a gruff voice blocked our path. “Well, look what we have here. A couple of pretty schoolgirls. How about you share some of that pocket money with us?” I looked up through the haze, spotting three rough-looking thugs blocking the alleyway. The scene felt dizzyingly familiar. Mia took a terrified step back, clutching her bag to her chest. “We don’t have any money!” “Don’t lie to me, sweetheart. Give it over!” One of the thugs lunged, ripping the bag from her hands and throwing her to the ground. I stepped forward to intervene, but another man shoved me hard. I fell onto the gravel, the sharp rocks tearing through my palms. I gasped at the stinging pain. Before they could do anything else, the sound of heavy, rapid footsteps echoed down the street. A flurry of violence followed. By the time I raised my head, Jasper was standing over us. His uniform was disheveled, a smear of blood on his cheek, and his eyes were wild with fury. “Touch her again,” he growled, standing directly in front of Mia, “and I’ll kill you.” I stared at his back, my blood running cold as I pressed my scraped palms into the dirt. I remembered this day. In high school, Mia and I really had been cornered by muggers. But back then, the girl Jasper had shielded with his life was me. 3 In Jasper’s mind, he was invincible. The thugs were quickly beaten back and fled down the alley. As soon as they were gone, Jasper spun around, grabbing Mia’s shoulders and checking her over with frantic concern. “Are you hurt? Did they touch you?” Mia shook her head, her gaze drifting over his shoulder toward me. Jasper finally looked my way, his pupils contracting slightly. “Gloria, are you okay?” I didn’t understand why, but even though this was a virtual world, the scrapes on my hands stung worse than any physical injury I had ever suffered. I had always been incredibly sensitive to pain, the kind of person who cried during simple blood tests. Jasper used to tease me about it, but he would always pull me close, cradling my head against his chest and stroking my hair. “It’s okay, it’s okay, I’m here,” he would whisper. But now, all I got was a flat, distant inquiry. A sudden wave of irrational anger washed over me. Tears welled in my eyes as I screamed at him, “Jasper, it hurts! It hurts so much!” Why aren’t you comforting me? He looked startled, taking a step toward me to look at my bloody palms. But before he could reach me, Mia let out a soft gasp, cradling her hand. During the struggle, her finger had been nicked by the zipper of her bag. Jasper froze, his eyes immediately darting back to her. He forgot about me in an instant, his face pale with panic. “Let me see! Is it bad?” “Come on, we’re going to the clinic right now!” He took her hand, pulling her down the street without looking back. The air felt like it was being sucked from my lungs, leaving me struggling to breathe. That night, Jasper knocked on my door. He stood on the porch, handing me a small paper bag filled with ointments and bandages. “I know you hate scars,” he said gently. “I bought the expensive stuff. It won’t leave a mark.” I took the bag silently, my movements robotic. Then, a goofy, boyish grin spread across his face as he scratched the back of his neck. “Mia accepted my confession. I wanted you to be the first to know the good news.” Every drop of warmth drained from my body. “Why?” the word slipped out before I could stop it. Jasper blinked in confusion. “What do you mean, why? You’ve always known I liked Mia.” “We made a pact to get into the same college so we could be together after graduation.” “Oh, and she mentioned she wants to see the Alps, so I’m planning to work part-time next year to save up and take her. Don’t worry, though, I haven’t forgotten about my best bro. I’ll make sure you come along…” “Jasper, you’re wrong,” I interrupted, my voice trembling as the dam broke. Tears cascaded down my cheeks. He panicked, reaching out tentatively. “Gloria? Why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?” “Tell me who it was. I’ll take care of them!” “The person you love is me,” I choked out. He froze, taking a step back as if he had been slapped. “What are you talking about? We’re friends, Gloria. We’ve always been friends.” I stared into his eyes, refusing to let him look away as I tried one last time. “This is a simulation, Jasper! In the real world, you were in a horrific car accident. You’re in a coma. I risked my life to come in here and bring you back. Please, you have to believe me. Wake up!” “Have you forgotten? We’ve been together for ten years. We were supposed to be married tomorrow!” Jasper’s eyes widened in sheer disbelief. He let out a heavy sigh, gently patting my shoulder. “Gloria, are you cracking under the stress of final exams?” “I’ve loved Mia from the moment I met her.” “How could I ever be with you, let alone marry you?” A sudden, high-pitched ringing filled my ears. The words of the lead researcher echoed in my mind: “Everyone’s subconscious harbors secrets they would never share in the waking world. The truth might destroy you, Gloria. If it becomes too much, tell us, and we will pull you out.” I had expected many things, but I never could have imagined that his entire universe was built around Mia. 4 Time in the subconscious was fluid, skipping forward in giant leaps. In the blink of an eye, high school graduation was behind us. Jasper and Mia had been accepted into the same university, while I ended up at a neighboring college. During our freshman winter break, they both posted pictures of the snowy peaks of the Alps. Jasper changed his profile background to a silhouette of the two of them standing side by side against the white landscape. I remembered when I had begged him to change his background to a photo of us, and he had held my hands, pleading with me. “Gloria, honey, let’s keep it private. I don’t want my business clients thinking I’m unprofessional or soft.” I had agreed. But apparently, he wasn’t afraid of being soft when it came to Mia. The three of us still met up occasionally, just like we used to during our college years. We even went to the same late-night diner. The only difference was that Mia was the one sitting beside him, her hand tucked into his. Every time Jasper had a few drinks, he would sling an arm around my shoulder and say, “I owe it all to you, Gloria. If you hadn’t delivered that letter, I never would have won her heart.” I would just smile and take another sip of my drink, forcing the bitterness back down. As the years blurred past, my shattered heart grew numb. I still occasionally brought up the truth, telling him that this world wasn’t real. He had grown used to it, nodding along with an amused smile. But on the ninety-ninth time I told him, his reaction was different. He was slightly flushed from the alcohol, looking at me with a rare intensity. “Gloria, sometimes I wonder. What if you’re right? What if this really is a dream world?” My heart leaped into my throat. If he had even a shred of doubt, the illusion would start to crack. He could wake up. He set his glass down on the wooden table with a soft clink. “Honestly, I think I’d be okay with that,” he said. The hope in my chest froze. “I have the career I wanted, and I have the woman I love. Why would I care if it’s an illusion? If the real world is any different from this, I’d rather never wake up.” My heart sank into a dark abyss. Numbing myself with another glass of wine, I asked, “What if in the real world, you and I are engaged? What if we were about to be married? Would you still choose to stay asleep?” He was quiet for a few seconds before letting out a soft chuckle. “You’re doing it again, Gloria. I’ve told you a thousand times, my heart belongs to Mia. I care about you, of course, but only as a friend.” Listening to his absolute certainty, the desire to save him began to wither away. Not long after, Mia called me, her voice trembling with excitement as she told me Jasper had proposed. I forced myself to offer congratulations. She begged me to go bridal gown shopping with her. By some cruel twist of fate, the boutique she chose was the exact same shop where I had tried on my wedding dress in reality. In the real world, Jasper had accompanied me there, watching me try on gown after gown, smiling warmly at each one. “My Gloria looks beautiful in everything,” he had said. “My Mia looks beautiful in everything!” The voice shattered my daydream. Jasper had appeared out of nowhere, staring at Mia with a look of pure adoration as she modeled a lace gown. He turned, finally noticing me standing nearby. Leaning his chin on his hand, he smirked. “Gloria, why don’t you try one on too?” Before I could decline, Mia clapped her hands. “Yes! Oh, you have to try this one on!” A faint hope flickered in the ashes of my heart. Maybe, just maybe, if he saw me in a wedding gown, his memories would spark. With that final, desperate wish, I let the stylist slip the heavy white satin over my shoulders and stepped out from behind the curtain. But when I opened my eyes, I didn’t see Jasper looking at me. He was holding Mia, whispering in her ear as she laughed, their bodies pressed close together. The world around them seemed to fade into a blur, leaving me as nothing more than a background prop in their perfect romance. The gown felt like a shroud of needles, drawing blood from every inch of my skin. I let out a quiet breath, pulled out my phone, and dialed the emergency frequency. The call connected instantly. “Miss Cross,” the lead researcher’s voice sounded in my ear. “Pull me out,” I said quietly. “I’m not the one who can wake him.” The moment I hung up, the glass doors of the boutique swung open. A tall, slender man in a dark suit walked in, making a straight path toward me. It was Lucas, the researcher overseeing my therapy. “Miss Cross, let’s go home,” he said, extending his arm. We turned to leave, but before we could take more than two steps, a hand clamped down on my wrist. Jasper had pulled away from Mia. His brow was furrowed, his eyes darting between me and Lucas with a sharp, possessive glare I recognized all too well. “Gloria,” he demanded, his voice dropping an octave. “Who is this guy?”

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1 I have a mild hearing impairment, my right ear nearly deaf. As kids, Lonny always stood to my right. “That way,” he’d say, “if anyone talks behind your back, I’ll hear it first.” Years later, we were engaged, invitations printed. Everyone envied my childhood sweetheart who’d shielded me for over a decade. Then Hailey joined his firm. Striking, vibrant, with an easy smile, she eyed my hearing aid before teasing, “With that on, does she even hear your sweet nothings?” My face paled; Lonny frowned mildly. “She speaks without thinking,” he murmured. “Don’t mind her.” At the wedding rehearsal, I stood outside the double doors as Hailey read my vows aloud. “Lonny, I promise to be your ears, your cane, your favorite little headache.” Laughter rang out; even Lonny chuckled. “Quit messing with her words,” he said, no bite in his tone. “She’ll be hurt if she hears.” Hailey tilted her head, mock-innocent. “So, are you still marrying her?” Lonny paused two agonizing seconds. “Invitations are out,” he said quietly. “What else can I do?” I stood at the corridor’s end, watching rain drip from the white umbrella he’d bought me. The rain had stopped. Suddenly, I didn’t want to go inside anymore. Lonny walked out of the hall a few minutes later, finding me standing there, quietly wiping the water from my hands. He froze for a second. “When did you get here?” I looked up at him. “Just now.” Hailey followed him out, her smile perfectly natural. “Iris! We were just joking around inside. You didn’t hear us, did you?” She deliberately moved to my right side, positioning herself in the dead zone of my hearing. Lonny frowned, casting a warning glance at her. “Stop it.” Hailey playfully stuck out her tongue. “Fine, I’ll stop. Since Iris has bad ears, I’ll make sure to always stand on her left from now on.” She phrased it like a favor, but the bridesmaids and groomsmen behind them let out quiet snickers. I looked at Lonny. Years ago, if anyone so much as hinted at a joke about my hearing, Lonny would be the first to glare them down. He used to tell me that my hearing loss was not my fault, and that the people who lacked basic manners were the ones who should feel ashamed. But now, he merely snatched the vow sheet from Hailey’s hands and handed it back to me. “Don’t overthink it. She just has a big mouth.” I took the paper. The elegant cursive I had spent nights drafting was now heavily scribbled over. Where I had written, Thank you for being my right ear for the last fifteen years, Hailey had crossed it out and penned, Thank you for tolerating my annoying self for the last fifteen years. I pressed my thumb against the ink, which was slightly smudged by the damp air. Lonny noticed and reached for the sheet. “I’ll have them print a fresh copy.” I stepped back, pulling the paper out of his reach. “No need.” His hand hovered in the air, stiffening. “Iris.” He used my full name. It was his tell, his way of letting me know he was losing his patience. Hailey coughed softly beside him. “Lonny, don’t be harsh on Iris. She probably feels like I’m stealing her spotlight.” Lonny rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Did I say anything wrong?” Hailey smiled knowingly. “Well, it’s rehearsal day, and everyone was crowding around me. It’s only natural for Iris to feel a bit left out.” One of the groomsmen stepped in to play peacemaker. “Alright, alright, just pre-wedding jitters. Don’t be mad, bride-to-be. Lonny treats you like a queen.” As if reminded of his duty, Lonny stepped forward and took my hand. “Come on. Let me drive you home. It’s pouring.” His palm was still warm, but my mind was stuck on his words from moments ago. The invitations are already out. What else am I supposed to do? He was marrying me to avoid a scene, not because he actually wanted to. I gently pulled my hand from his grip. “No thanks. I’ll get back on my own.” Lonny looked down at his empty hand, his expression darkening. “What is it this time?” This time. The words echoed in my ears, sending a sharp, familiar buzz through my head. Hailey stepped forward, her voice softening into a sweet, apologetic tone. “Iris, I really didn’t mean to upset you. How about I apologize properly?” She began to bend her knees in a mock bow, and Lonny immediately caught her by the arm to stop her. Hailey leaned in slightly against his arm, tilting her head to wink at me. “See? He still cares about me.” The corridor fell dead silent. Lonny quickly let go of her, looking highly uncomfortable. “Iris, she’s just talking nonsense.” I nodded. He stared at me, almost waiting for me to start screaming, to throw the tantrum he expected. But I did not. I folded the ruined vows, placed them neatly in my bag, and said, “I’m leaving.” Lonny blocked my path. “The wedding is in three days, and you’re throwing a fit over this?” My eyes fell on his wrist. He was wearing the watch I had saved up to buy him for his birthday last year. Inside the leather strap, I had engraved a tiny message: A promise for a lifetime. He had teased me back then, calling it overly cheesy, yet he had worn it every single day since. Now, that same wrist was barring my exit like a locked gate. “Lonny,” I said quietly, “I’m just tired.” His scowl deepened. “If you’re tired, go home and get some sleep. Stop acting up when we have so much to do.” Hailey peeked out from behind his shoulder. “Iris, the schedule is going to be brutal these next few days. If you’re not feeling up to it, I can always stand in for you during the rehearsals. I already have the vows down anyway.” Someone in the background laughed. Lonny did not join in this time, but he did not stop her either. I looked away from him, reaching for my umbrella. One of the metal ribs had been bent out of shape when someone bumped into it earlier. When I popped it open, the canopy tilted awkwardly to one side. I stared at the crooked frame for a second, then stepped out into the rain. Behind me, Lonny’s voice cut through the downpour. “Iris! If you walk away today, don’t expect me to come crawling back to coax you!” I paused for a brief second, then kept walking. The following morning, the wedding coordinator called to ask for final confirmation on the names for the main backdrop. When I arrived at the venue, Hailey was standing in the center of the grand ballroom. She was wearing a stunning white satin dress. It was not a wedding gown, but it looked close enough to make her look like the bride. Lonny was sitting in the front row, reviewing the schedule. The coordinator let out a massive sigh of relief when she saw me. “Ms. Iris, thank goodness you’re here. Ms. Hailey wants to change the backdrop to a design she created, but we couldn’t proceed without your approval.” I looked up at the stage. The original backdrop read: Lonny & Iris. It had been replaced by a sleek, minimalist English quote. In the lower corner, in tiny font, my name was practically invisible. Hailey walked over, offering a sweet explanation. “Iris, don’t get the wrong idea. I just thought putting two names together on a huge board looked a bit tacky. A wedding should feel elegant and high-fashion.” Before I could even speak, Lonny raised his head from the papers. “I’ve reviewed it. It looks great.” The coordinator looked incredibly uncomfortable. “But this is the main backdrop. If the bride’s name is too small, it won’t show up in the photography.” Hailey immediately cast her eyes downward, looking crestfallen. “Forget it then. I was only trying to help. Since Iris has hearing issues, I know communication is probably hard for her.” Lonny snapped the folder shut. “We’re going with Hailey’s version.” I looked at him. “Lonny, this is my wedding.” “It’s my wedding too,” he replied coldly. The words blocked any reply I had. Hailey walked over and wrapped her arm snugly around mine. “Iris, don’t be so tense. A wedding is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. If you keep scowling like this, you’re going to wear Lonny out.” She was standing so close that the heavy scent of her perfume burned my nose. I pulled my arm back, keeping my voice steady. “I don’t like the design.” Hailey’s eyes welled with tears instantly. “Do you… not like me either, then?” Lonny stood up, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. “Iris, stop taking your anger out on her.” “I only said I don’t like the design.” “You know she was just trying to help.” Lonny walked over, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “The wedding is in three days. Do you really have to humiliate everyone over a piece of cardboard?” The surrounding staff members quickly looked down, pretending to be busy, but I knew they were hanging on every word. My ears could not catch the quietest whispers, but I could feel their judging gazes. They felt like tiny needles pressing into my skin. Hailey wiped her eyes. “Let’s just use Iris’s design, Lonny. She’s always been sensitive.” Sensitive. Years ago, Lonny used to tell me that I was not sensitive—that other people were just incredibly rude. Now, he stood on the other side, using his silence to tell me that I was, indeed, the problem. I pulled the original design draft from my bag and handed it directly to the coordinator. “Use this.” Lonny’s face hardened. “Iris.” I did not look at him. “I signed the contract, and I paid the deposit. We are doing it my way.” It was the first time I had ever openly defied him in public. Lonny looked momentarily stunned. “Are you really going to be this petty?” Hailey stepped between us, pulling on his sleeve. “Lonny, don’t fight. I’ll just step back, okay? I don’t want to cause trouble.” She turned to walk away, but Lonny immediately grabbed her by the wrist. “No one is asking you to leave.” He held her tightly, his hand wrapping fully around her wrist, as if terrified she would be wronged. The coordinator stood there, looking entirely lost. “So… which version are we printing?” Lonny stared at me. “Iris, don’t push things to a point where we can’t save face.” We can’t save face. It was always about the presentation. Our entire twenty-year relationship had apparently simmered down to a mere performance. I slowly placed the original draft back into my bag. “Do whatever you want.” Lonny’s shoulders relaxed slightly, looking as if he had finally won a exhausting argument. Hailey smiled brightly. “Don’t worry, Iris, I’ll make sure your wedding is absolutely beautiful.” Before leaving the ballroom, I took one last look at the stage. The cold white spotlights hit the new backdrop, highlighting the sleek English letters. My name was so small it was practically a speck. I stood there, and for the first time, I felt a strange sense of peace. If it was invisible, I did not have to look at it anymore. My phone buzzed in my hand. It was a private message from the coordinator. Ms. Iris, if you wish to cancel the booking, the contract allows a sixty percent refund of the deposit, but we need your final confirmation by five p.m. today. I stared at the message for a long time, my thumb hovering over the screen. “Iris,” Lonny’s voice called out from behind me. “Send me Hailey’s measurements for her bridesmaid dress.” I turned around. “Hailey isn’t a bridesmaid.” “We’re adding her last-minute,” he said casually. “What’s the big deal?” Hailey stood beside him, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. “If Iris doesn’t want me, it’s fine. I don’t have to be a bridesmaid.” Lonny looked at her. “Don’t say that.” Then, he looked back at me. “It’s just a dress, Iris.” Just a dress. Just a vow. Just a backdrop. Just an umbrella. It seemed that anything belonging to me could be easily reduced to a “just” the moment Hailey wanted it. I unlocked my phone, copied the contact information for the boutique, and sent it to him. Lonny’s expression softened instantly. “See? That wasn’t so hard.” I did not say a word. That afternoon, I went back to our shared apartment to pack up the wedding supplies. The living room was piled high with cardboard boxes. There were customized candy boxes, table cards, guest registries, and a thick, heavy photo album. I had made that album myself, compiling memories from elementary school to college. On the very first page was a photo of Lonny standing to my right, leaning over to block a paper ball thrown by some rowdy boys in our class. On the back, I had written: He was the first voice I ever truly heard. I had genuinely believed that back then. The doorbell rang. When I opened it, Hailey was standing on the threshold, flanked by two assistants from the wedding agency. She held up a shopping bag with a smile. “Iris, I came to pick up the bridesmaid dress, and I thought I’d see if you needed any help packing.” I did not step aside. “No need.” Hailey peeked over my shoulder. “Wow, you have so much stuff.” Before I could stop her, she squeezed past me into the apartment. The two assistants stood awkwardly at the door. Hailey’s eyes immediately caught the photo album on the coffee table. She flipped open the first page and giggled. “You guys looked so goofy when you were kids.” I walked over and shut the album firmly. “Don’t touch that.” She blinked, looking startled. “Is it really that precious?” Lonny’s voice echoed from the hallway. “Hailey, weren’t you just picking up the dress?” He had followed her up. Hailey immediately shrank back, hiding her hands behind her back. “I was just looking. I think Iris is mad at me.” Lonny looked at me, his eyes tired. “She was just curious, Iris.” I clutched the album to my chest. “I said, don’t touch it.” Lonny’s face darkened. “Iris, when is this tantrum going to end? No one is trying to steal your things.” Hailey whispered softly, “Lonny, don’t scold her. Maybe because she’s always had trouble hearing, she feels insecure about her belongings.” Lonny did not object. He stood there, silent for two long seconds. And those two seconds were enough. They were long enough for me to realize that he agreed with her. Hailey reached into a bag and pulled out a delicate white camellia boutonniere. “Oh, Iris, can I have this? It’s so pretty.” That boutonniere was meant for the bride. I had loved white camellias for as long as I could remember. Since I was little, I had a habit of mishearing things. Once, when we were kids, I had misheard Lonny. I thought he said camellia when he actually said I’ll keep you safe. Ever since, he bought me a white camellia on my birthday, reminding me: I’ll keep you safe. Now, Hailey was holding it in her hand, smiling as she asked if she could have it. My voice was dead quiet, but entirely firm. “No.” Lonny stepped forward. “If she likes it, let her have it. We can have the florist make another one for the wedding.” I looked up, meeting his eyes. “Lonny, you chose this one.” He froze. Hailey looked between the two of us, a smug smile playing on her lips. “Oh, you chose it? Now I love it even more.” She pinned it directly onto her white dress. “Does it look good?” Lonny did not answer, but he did not tell her to take it off either. The photo album in my arms suddenly felt incredibly heavy. My wrists ached under the weight. I knelt down, placed the album back into one of the cardboard boxes, and pulled out my phone. I opened the chat with the wedding coordinator. If I cancel, I need to confirm by five p.m., correct? The reply was instant. Yes, Ms. Iris. Before I could type another word, Lonny snatched the phone from my hand. “Who are you messaging?” The screen was still lit, and the text was fully visible. The living room fell into a suffocating silence. Lonny stared at the screen, his voice dropping to a dangerous register. “Iris, what is the meaning of this?” I reached out to grab my phone, but he lifted it out of my reach. “Answer me.” Hailey leaned over to glance at the screen, letting out a gasp. “Cancel the wedding? Iris, you’re joking, right?” I looked at Lonny. “Give me my phone.” He did not budge. “You’re canceling our wedding over a few minor disagreements?” Minor disagreements. A dry, bitter laugh escaped my lips. “Yes. Minor.” Lonny’s face turned incredibly ugly. “Iris, do not use this to threaten me.” “I am not threatening you.” “Then what do you call this?” He slammed the phone onto the coffee table, his finger pointing at the screen. “You know our families have already booked their flights. The venue is paid for, and hundreds of invitations have been sent out. You canceling now is just a desperate attempt to humiliate me.” My eyes drifted to the white camellia pinned to Hailey’s chest. The urge to argue simply vanished. “I won’t humiliate you.” I should have realized much sooner that he did not care about my pain. He only cared about saving face. Hailey gently tugged at Lonny’s sleeve. “Lonny, don’t be angry. Iris probably just wants you to coax her a little.” Lonny let out a cold, humorless laugh. “Haven’t I spent my entire life coaxing her?” He glared at me, his voice tight. “Iris, you’ve been doing this since we were kids. Every time you can’t hear, I have to repeat myself. Every time you’re unhappy, I have to guess why. If anyone so much as looks at you wrong, you start crying. I used to think you needed me, but now, it’s just exhausting.” A loud, high-pitched ring echoed in my right ear. I heard every single word perfectly. Hailey added in a quiet voice, “Honestly, Lonny is pretty pitiable. He’s taken care of you for so many years. Surely he deserves to have some say in his own wedding.” Lonny did not deny it. My gaze drifted to the white umbrella leaning against the doorframe, its crooked rib sticking out awkwardly. When he gave it to me, he told me that even if it rained and he wasn’t there, he would always protect me. I walked over and picked it up. Lonny’s brow furrowed. “You’re leaving again?” I did not answer. I simply held the umbrella out to him. He did not reach for it. I set it down carefully at his feet. “I’m returning this to you.” Lonny’s pupils dilated. “Iris, are you serious?” Hailey suddenly bent down and picked up the umbrella. “This thing is so old, and the frame is completely bent.” She popped it open, and the canopy warped violently. “No wonder Iris doesn’t want it anymore.” My voice went cold. “Put it down.” Hailey flinched at my tone. Her hand slipped, and the umbrella dropped to the floor. The tip struck the sharp wooden leg of the coffee table with a loud crack. The remaining support ribs snapped completely. The apartment fell dead silent, save for the low hum of the air conditioner. Lonny stared down at the ruined umbrella, his expression finally shifting into something resembling panic. But Hailey was quicker to react. Her eyes flooded with tears. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Iris, please don’t look at me like that. You’re scaring me.” Lonny immediately stepped in front of her, shielding her from my view. “Iris, it’s just an old umbrella. If it’s broken, I’ll buy you a new one.” I stared at him for a long, quiet moment, then nodded. “Okay.” His frustration flared again. “Stop being so passive-aggressive.” I knelt on the floor, gathering the sharp, broken metal ribs one by one. The jagged edges scraped against my fingertips, leaving a dull, stinging pain. Lonny reached down to pull me up. “Stop picking them up. You’ll cut yourself.” I pulled my hand back, avoiding his touch. “No need.” Hailey whispered behind him, “Lonny, maybe I should leave. I feel like Iris really hates me.” Lonny rubbed his temples. “I’ll walk you down.” He turned back to me, his voice firm. “Stay here and calm down. The wedding is still on. Stop making a scene.” He reached the front door and paused, looking back. “Iris, I know you can’t live without me. When you’ve cooled off, call me.” The door clicked shut. The silence in the apartment was absolute. I tossed the broken pieces of the umbrella into a trash bag, walked back to the coffee table, and picked up my phone. The coordinator’s final text was on the screen. Ms. Iris, you have ten minutes left. I pressed the microphone icon and recorded a brief, flat voice note. “Cancel it.”

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Twenty years ago, my baby girl, who could barely even take her first steps, died in that freezing, sterile emergency room. She could have lived. The St. Jude Foundation had already approved her Compassionate Use Grant. The lifesaving funds had been wired to the hospital’s account. But the night before her surgery, her name was secretly replaced, and the funds were withdrawn. Only later did I find out that the people who stole her spot were my own brother, Thomas, and his wife, Samantha. They traded my daughter’s life for their own son’s chance to survive. Back then, Samantha pointed her designer-clad finger at my face, waving a forged approval letter, and sneered, “This is just how life is, Lynn. Your daughter was born cheap. Don’t blame us for having better luck.” I didn’t cry. I didn’t make a scene. Instead, I spent twenty long years clawing my way up to where I am today—the Chief Director of the Compassionate Use Program at the State Medical Board. Today, Samantha’s son lies in the ICU, desperately waiting for the only dose of a rare, federally funded gene-therapy drug in the entire state. I looked down at the familiar name on the application form, picked up my red pen, and drew a massive, cold “X” right across it. 0

“Director Mitchell, are you out of your mind? You signed the wrong box!” My assistant, Dr. Julian Carter, practically jumped out of his chair. His eyes were glued to the red-stamped document in my hand. “This is the final allocation sheet for ‘NeoGenesis-1’! Tyler Mitchell’s bio-markers rank number one in the state! The system automatically flagged him as the perfect match!” Julian leaned over my desk, slamming his hands down, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “You signing ‘REJECTED’ in that box… do you have any idea what that means?” “It means this patient does not qualify for our free compassionate-use drug program,” I replied. I didn’t even look up. My voice was as flat as if I were commenting on the weather. Julian was completely dumbfounded. “How does he not qualify? Is it a genetic mismatch? Is his body too weak to tolerate it? Director Mitchell, the federal government only gives our state one single dose of this drug a year. It’s worth 1.2 million dollars, fully covered! It’s his only lifeline!” I raised my head. My gaze drifted past Julian, landing on the young man sitting in the waiting area outside my glass office. It was Tyler Mitchell. Through the glass door, the hope on his pale face instantly shattered the moment he saw me shake my head. “Director Mitchell…” Julian tried to argue again, but I tossed the file folder right back into his chest. “I said he doesn’t qualify, so he doesn’t. The applicant’s paperwork is compromised.” The office door pushed open. Tyler looked ghostly pale, his breathing shallow and ragged. He held onto the doorframe, his voice trembling violently. “Aunt Lynn… is there something wrong with my lab results?” I looked at him. He was twenty. The prime of his life. But unfortunately, he had inherited the worst genetic defect of the Mitchell family. I flipped open his background file, my fingers tapping heavily on the names listed under parents: “Father: Thomas Mitchell,” “Mother: Samantha Vance.” “Your application failed the review,” I said coldly. Tyler froze, taking two desperate steps forward. “How is that possible? My parents did everything. They notarized all our financial assets, they even put up our two estates in the Hamptons as collateral to prove that although we have money, we fully meet the criteria for emergency compassionate relief…” “Did they submit these documents themselves?” “Yes.” I let out a cold laugh and threw my pen onto the desk. “Then it’s officially over. You’re not getting it.” Julian was practically shaking with anxiety. “Director Mitchell, what the hell are you playing at? This file went through initial, secondary, and final reviews! Five department heads signed off on this! Who are you to reject it with a single word?” “Because I am the Chief Director of the Compassionate Use Program,” I said, leaning back in my leather chair, staring at him coldly. “And I hold the veto power.” Julian gasped, his face turning from anxious to furious. He looked around the room. The other assistants in the office quickly bowed their heads, pretending to be buried in their work. No one dared to make eye contact. “This is murder! Do you even know who Tyler’s father is? He’s the CEO of Vance Enterprises!” “Dr. Carter,” I cut him off, my voice sharp as a whip. “Are you a doctor of this state hospital, or are you a lapdog for Vance Enterprises?” Julian’s face instantly flushed a deep, angry purple. Tyler’s eyes were red, fighting back tears as he struggled to stand straight. “Aunt Lynn, if my parents missed some paperwork, I’ll call them right now to fix it. If my medical evaluation is being questioned, I can do another bone marrow biopsy. Please. Just give me a straight answer. I want to live.” He lowered himself completely, begging for his life. Looking at his face, my mind suddenly flashed back to twenty years ago. Back then, I was ten thousand times more pathetic than he was now. I had knelt in the pouring rain on the concrete steps of the foundation’s office, desperately grabbing the director’s leg, banging my head on the ground until I bled. *”Please, just check the accounts! The grant was approved! Why is it suddenly gone? My daughter is on a ventilator, she can’t wait!”* No one even looked at me. The security guards dragged me through the mud like a dead dog. I closed my eyes, forcing those blood-soaked memories back into the dark corners of my mind. When I opened them again, I looked at Tyler. “I’ve made myself clear. You do not qualify. Get out.” 0

Tyler’s tears finally spilled over. He bit his lip hard, turned around, and stumbled out of the room. A nurse gasped in the hallway outside. He must have tripped and fallen. Julian pointed a trembling finger at my face. “Fine. Great. Lynn Mitchell, everything you did today is going straight to Dean Henderson. Don’t think you can play god just because you sit in this chair!” I pulled out a sanitizing wipe and slowly, methodically cleaned my fingers. “The door is on your left. Don’t let it hit you on the way out.” Julian slammed the door shut. Less than five minutes later, I could hear him shouting into his phone from the stairwell down the hall. He was so loud the entire floor could hear. “Mrs. Vance, it’s Julian. I’m so sorry, there’s a massive issue with the drug allocation… Director Mitchell refuses to sign off. You and Mr. Mitchell need to get down here right now. I can’t keep this under wraps anymore.” I tossed the used wipe into the trash, spun my chair around, and looked out the window. Twenty years. I had waited for this phone call until my very bones felt restless. The next morning, the moment I walked into my office, Julian snuck in with a smug, mocking grin on his face. “Director Mitchell, Mrs. Vance asked me to deliver a message.” “Speak.” Julian choked on his words for a second, forcing his anger down. “Mrs. Vance said, mother to mother, she hopes you can understand. If Tyler’s drug gets approved, she will personally fund and donate the most advanced PET-CT scanner to our radiology department.” I flipped open the medical chart on my desk. “A PET-CT scanner? That’s over three million dollars.” “Exactly!” Julian’s eyes lit up. “Mrs. Vance promised it personally. No take-backs.” “Must be nice to be that rich,” I sneered. Thinking I was tempted, Julian leaned in closer. “Director, let’s be real. Tyler’s medical profile is flawless. You sign the paper, everyone wins. It’s good for the hospital, and it’s even better for your next performance review. Dean Henderson’s new research lab is still waiting on Vance Enterprises’ phase-two funding, you know.” I stopped writing and stared directly into his eyes. “Dr. Carter, how many years have you been in this field?” “Six… six years.” “Six years. And have you ever seen me, Lynn Mitchell, sign off on a single document in exchange for money?” The smile on Julian’s face froze. “I don’t care how much Samantha Vance is paying you under the table. But in this office, her money is nothing but garbage.” Julian shook with rage, his mouth opening and closing but no words came out. Finally, he sneered, spun on his heel, and slammed the door. The office fell silent. I unlocked the bottom drawer of my desk, entered my passcode, and pulled out a plain black folder. Inside, there were no medical charts or hospital documents. There were only yellowed, decades-old bank receipts, blurry photos, and a few USB drives containing recorded calls. This was the evidence I had spent more than seven thousand days digging out from the depths of hell. I thought I would have to wait longer for the Mitchell family to make a mistake. But God had eyes. Tyler’s illness relapsed, and this specific drug was his only hope. At two in the afternoon, my office landline rang. “Hello, is this Director Mitchell of the Compassionate Use Program?” The voice on the other end was dripping with the same high-and-mighty arrogance I remembered. Twenty years, and Samantha’s tone of talking down to people hadn’t changed at all. Back then, my ex-husband had begged her, kneeling in front of her BMW. She had rolled down the window, thrown a few hundred-dollar bills in his face, and said: *”The kid is dead anyway. Just make another one. If you dare come to my office and make a scene again, I’ll make sure you lose your job sweeping the streets!”* “Speaking,” I said, gripping the receiver. “This is Samantha Vance, Tyler’s mother. I want to discuss my son’s drug approval with you in person. Tomorrow morning, 9:00 AM. Be in your office.” It wasn’t a request. It was an order. “Of course,” I smiled. “I’ll be waiting.” “My husband will be joining me. We expect a reasonable explanation from you, Director Mitchell.” “I promise you’ll get exactly what you deserve.” I hung up, walked over to the restroom, and looked in the mirror. The woman staring back had short, sharp hair and cold, icy eyes. At forty-five, I was no longer that pathetic girl in a faded T-shirt with a ponytail, weeping and begging for mercy. More than that, back then, to them, I was just a poor relative from the countryside whose name wasn’t even worth remembering. How could they possibly recognize me now? 0

The next morning at exactly 9:00 AM, my office door was kicked open. Samantha strutted in on four-inch heels, clutching a limited-edition Hermès Birkin bag, looking like she owned the place. My brother, Thomas, followed closely behind in a tailored suit, looking every bit the successful billionaire. “So, you’re Director Mitchell?” Samantha looked me up and down, pulled out a chair, and sat down without a single polite word. “I don’t beat around the bush. You made things difficult for my son yesterday, and he didn’t sleep a wink last night. How are you going to make this right?” I took a sip of water from my mug. “How would you like to settle it, Mrs. Vance?” Samantha slammed a thick stack of medical reports onto my desk. “This is a joint evaluation from the top medical specialists in the state! Tyler is a one hundred percent match! What right do you have to block us at the final stage? Who do you think you are?” Thomas gently pulled her sleeve, trying to play the reasonable gentleman. “Director Mitchell, my wife is just worried sick about our boy. She’s a bit emotional. We came here today to find a solution.” He pulled out another chair and sat down, folding his hands on my desk. “My son’s condition is critical. If there’s some misunderstanding, let’s lay it all out on the table.” I pushed the stack of reports aside. “Mr. Mitchell, Mrs. Vance. I made my decision clear in the file. Tyler does not qualify.” “Bullshit!” Samantha slammed her hand on the desk. “You just want money, don’t you? Name your price! Stop acting so damn righteous!” Thomas quickly tried to smooth things over. “Director Mitchell, I understand your position carries a lot of pressure and many things to consider. But rules are made by people. If your department needs funding for research, or if you personally… have some expenses that are hard to talk about, Vance Enterprises can take care of it.” “Like what?” I asked with a half-smile. “For instance, a luxury apartment in Manhattan, or perhaps your children want to go to an Ivy League school…” Thomas lowered his voice, offering the bait. “Are you openly bribing a state official, Mr. Mitchell?” Thomas’s face stiffened, and he let out a dry laugh. “You misunderstand, Director. It’s a perfectly legal philanthropic donation…” “Stop wasting your breath on her!” Samantha snapped impatiently, glaring at me. “Just tell me, how much money will it take for you to sign? Five million? Ten million?” The office fell into a dead, heavy silence. I set my mug down, stood up, and looked down at the wealthy couple. “Mrs. Vance, this is the State Medical Board, not a flea market for Vance Enterprises. Take your dirty money and get out.” Samantha gasped in disbelief, then laughed mockingly as she stood up, pointing her finger at my nose. “You ungrateful bitch! Who do you think you are? A low-level director, and you actually think you’re hot shit?” “I’m warning you for the last time. You are signing that paper today, whether you like it or not! If you don’t, I will make sure you never practice medicine in this country again!” The utter disregard for human life in her eyes was identical to twenty years ago. “Samantha Vance,” I said, calling her by her full name. She froze. “Tyler Mitchell’s application is permanently denied. If you don’t like it, go file a complaint with the Department of Health.” Samantha’s face turned white with rage, her chest heaving. “Fine! Just you wait!” She spun around to leave, but stopped at the door, turning back to hiss, “Let’s see how many more days you get to wear that white coat!” Thomas gave me a long, dark look filled with malice. “Director Mitchell, you’ve chosen a very dangerous path.” The moment they left, Julian slipped back into the room, sweating profusely. “Director! Are you crazy? You just completely crossed Samantha Vance! Her family holds massive political sway in this state. You’re committing career suicide!” “Dr. Carter,” I sat back down, opening my computer. “Take a guess. What do you think her next move will be?” Julian swallowed hard. “What else? Use her connections to pressure you, and get the media to destroy you!” I nodded. “Excellent. Let’s make sure she plays it as big as possible.” 0

At three in the afternoon, I was summoned to Dean Henderson’s office. When I opened the door, Samantha was sitting on the leather sofa, sipping tea, while Thomas stood by the window, smoking a cigar. Dean Henderson sat behind his mahogany desk, his forehead creased into deep lines. “Lynn, come in, take a seat,” the Dean said, pointing to the chair opposite him. “Speak freely, Dean. I’ll stand,” I replied. The Dean cleared his throat. “Well, Mrs. Vance just brought a serious issue to my attention. She claims you have a personal bias in the drug allocation process, and that you are intentionally blocking her son’s lifesaving medication. This is reflecting very poorly on our institution.” “I am following the regulations. What bias?” Samantha slammed her teacup onto the glass table. “Regulations? Every specialist in this state says my son is the perfect fit, and you’re the only one saying no! If that’s not bias, what is? Did you take a bribe from someone else to sell our drug under the table?” Dean Henderson waved his hands frantically. “Mrs. Vance, please, let’s not throw accusations. Lynn isn’t that kind of person. But Lynn, Tyler’s condition is indeed critical. You must give us a reasonable explanation.” “My explanation is in the file. Non-compliant paperwork.” Samantha bolted upright and marched right up to my face. “Do you think your position here is secure?” She leaned in, whispering so only the three of us could hear: “Let me tell you something. Crushing you is easier than stepping on an ant. Bow your head, apologize, sign the paper, and I’ll pretend today never happened. Otherwise…” “Otherwise what?” I met her icy glare. Samantha suddenly laughed, a vicious, triumphant sound. “Otherwise, by tomorrow, everyone in this state will know that the Director of the Compassionate Use Program at this hospital is a corrupt, heartless murderer. I wonder if the families of the patients who didn’t get the drug will come and tear you apart?” Dean Henderson panicked. “Mrs. Vance, please, let’s not be rash…” “There’s nothing to talk about!” Samantha turned to the Dean. “Dean Henderson, I’m putting it on the line today. If my son doesn’t get that drug, the fifty-million-dollar endowment Vance Enterprises promised for your new medical wing is officially canceled!” Dean Henderson’s face drained of all color. “Lynn!” The Dean slammed his hand on the desk. “What the hell are you holding out for? Sign the damn paper!” I looked at the panicked Dean, and then at the smug, victorious Samantha. “No.” Samantha let out a cold laugh, pulled out her phone, and put it on speaker. “Hey, is this the lead editor at *The Daily Chronicle*? I have a massive story for you. The Director of the Compassionate Use Program at the state hospital is abusing her power and letting a young boy die out of spite. Yes, I have all the proof ready. I’ll send it over now.” She hung up and looked at me with pure malice. “Get ready to be ruined, Mitchell.” Thomas walked over, patting Samantha on the shoulder, looking at me with cold pity. “Director Mitchell, you should have left yourself a way out. Since you insisted on putting yourself in a corner, don’t blame us.” The two of them walked out, heads held high. Dean Henderson collapsed back into his chair, his hand trembling as he pointed at me. “Lynn! You’re usually so smart! Why the hell are you acting like an idiot now? Do you know how important that fifty million is to this hospital? How am I supposed to defend you when the news breaks tomorrow?” I turned toward the door. “You don’t have to defend me, Dean.” “What do you mean?” I looked back over my shoulder and smiled. “Because I’m the one who lit the match.”

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I was scrolling through Reddit on my phone when a trending post caught my eye in the local community sub. “I’m an Uber driver. I’m looking for a woman named Natalie who lives at The Aspen Apartments.” “Just so you know, your fiancé married his childhood best friend seven years ago. They already have a son and a daughter together.” The comments were blowing up instantly. “Holy crap, this is wild.” “OP, give us more details! There are probably fifty girls named Natalie in that complex.” The original poster replied: “The guy has a distinctive birthmark right under his left eye. I didn’t get a good look at the woman because he was holding her close in his arms the entire ride.” Staring at the screen, a cold shiver ran down my spine. It took me a few seconds to process the words, but the realization hit me like a physical blow. The man they were describing… was Carter. My fiancé. My hands shook so violently I could barely hold my phone. No wonder. Every single time I brought up our wedding date, Carter would get annoyed and tell me there was no rush. It turned out he already had a whole other family waiting for him. Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a text notification. “Hi Natalie, this is the bridal boutique. Your wedding dress has been altered to your measurements. When would you like to come in for your final fitting?” I blinked, trying to force back the hot, stinging tears in my eyes. “Cancel it,” I typed back. “And process the refund.” If he couldn’t give me a real home, I would find someone else who could.

It was past 1:00 AM when Carter finally got home. Seeing me still sitting in the living room, he kicked off his shoes and asked casually, “The boutique called me. They said you canceled the wedding dress? What’s wrong with it?” I looked up at him, my voice completely flat. “I just realized I don’t want it anymore.” He frowned, instantly irritated. “You were the one begging me to get married, and now the wedding is literally next week. Can you stop acting on a whim?” “Didn’t you choose that dress yourself? What kind of drama are you trying to stir up now?” The mug of coffee in my hands had gone ice cold. Yes, I was the one who picked it out. But it wasn’t the dress I actually wanted. During our three fitting appointments, he had brought Chloe along every single time. I wanted a sleek, elegant satin gown. Chloe insisted that a puffy lace tulle dress was much better. So, Carter spent the entire time subtly and not-so-subtly pressuring me into choosing the tulle. I wanted a simple white-gold band. Chloe said she preferred a classic diamond solitaire. So, behind my back, Carter switched the ring order. I slowly set my coffee mug down on the table and looked him straight in the eye. “Carter, I hate tulle. I’ve always wanted satin.” His hands paused as he unbuttoned his coat. His face immediately darkened with impatience. “Are you seriously throwing a tantrum over a fabric?” “Yes. Over this exact fabric.” “Natalie, if you’re really that bored and have nothing better to do, I can ask Chloe to sign you up for a domestic etiquette class. They teach you how to actually support your husband instead of picking fights.” I stared at him. “Like how Chloe supports you?” For the past ten years, no matter what I did, Carter would always compare me to Chloe. My cooking was never as good as Chloe’s. My housekeeping skills were nothing compared to hers. He even had the nerve to say these things right in front of my parents. Once, my mom took me aside and quietly asked if I wanted to reconsider my relationship with him. But I refused. Because I could never forget the night I casually mentioned wanting late-night spicy wings, and he drove twenty miles through a torrential thunderstorm just to bring them to me. I still remembered when he only had $20 left in his bank account, but he spent $19 to buy me a box of organic cherries from Whole Foods because he knew they were my favorite. Carter sat down across from me, sighing heavily. “Is it really that hard for you to admit that Chloe is just more capable than you?” “Then why the hell are you with me?!” I screamed back, my eyes burning with tears. Carter seemed to realize he had gone too far. He let out a long breath, softening his voice. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “Fine. If you don’t like the dress, you don’t like it. Chloe knows a few high-end bridal designers. I’ll ask her tomorrow if she can rush a new one before next week.” I tried my best to swallow the bitter, suffocating pain rising in my chest. “Oh, perfect. So she can have another chance to design a dress she loves? Who knows, maybe she’ll just wear it herself.” Carter’s expression finally cracked. Underneath his sudden anger, I saw a flash of sheer guilt. “Do you really have to be this toxic tonight?” I almost wanted to laugh. Carter was always like this. The moment Chloe was involved, he could spin black into white. Wrong became right. And his protection was something I would never, ever receive.

The argument ended with him slamming the door and storming out. The next morning, when I woke up, the sound of children laughing and shouting echoed from the living room. I opened my bedroom door and found my neat, clean apartment in absolute chaos. The hand-woven throw blanket that Carter had supposedly custom-ordered for me was currently being trampled under the dirty shoes of Chloe’s young daughter. “Oh, Natalie, you’re finally awake!” Chloe chirped, looking up. Before I could say anything, she turned toward the kitchen and called out, “Carter! Natalie’s up. Serve another bowl of oatmeal!” Carter walked out of the kitchen, looking incredibly awkward. “Uh… I only made enough for the four of us.” “There’s some leftover peanut butter toast in the pantry. You want that?” I shook my head. “No, thanks. You guys go ahead.” He set his bowl down and walked over to me. “Are you still mad at me?” “Even if you’re mad, you shouldn’t skip breakfast. Especially with your sensitive stomach.” I looked at him. At that moment, my chest felt like it was packed with heavy, wet cotton. I could barely breathe. I let out a slow, cold breath. “Carter, do you even remember what I’m allergic to?” He froze for two seconds, a sudden flash of panic crossing his face. “Oh… right. Babe, I’m sorry. I forgot.” He didn’t forget. He just never cared enough to remember. He couldn’t remember that peanut butter could literally send me into anaphylactic shock. Yet, he never failed to deliver a warm cup of ginger tea to Chloe on the exact day her period started every single month. “If you don’t want to eat, then don’t. Why do you always have to make my mom and dad feel bad?” The little boy speaking was Chloe’s seven-year-old son, Mason. His presence was a loud, mocking reminder of how incredibly stupid I had been. I had once asked Carter why Chloe’s children carried his last name, Miller. At the time, he had told me: “Chloe and I made a pact when we were younger. We promised we’d be co-parents to each other’s kids if anything happened. Since their biological father walked out and they don’t have a dad, it’s only right they take my name so they don’t get bullied at school.” And back then, like an idiot, I believed him. Chloe gave me an apologetic, sweet smile. “Kids are just protective of their parents. Don’t take it personally, Natalie.” I didn’t say a word. I grabbed my purse and walked toward the front door. “Where are you going?” Carter grabbed my wrist. “I’m hungry.” His grip slowly loosened, and he didn’t ask anything else. “Come back early.” The only response he got was the sound of the door slamming shut. I drove to the local diner that Carter and I used to visit every weekend. I ordered a plate of blueberry pancakes, crispy bacon, and a hot mug of black coffee. “Carter came in a while ago,” Bob, the diner owner, said as he brought my food. “I was wondering why you weren’t with him.” “But hey, glad to see you today!” I swallowed a bite of pancake and forced a polite smile. “Your pancakes are the best in town, Bob. Of course I’d come back.” Bob grinned widely. “Then how come you didn’t join him last time?” “He was here with a woman and two kids. I honestly thought that was you…” Behind him, his wife, Mary, quickly tugged at his apron. Bob realized his mistake instantly, his face turning red. “Anyway! You need anything else, sweetheart? On the house!” I shook my head. “I’m good, Bob. Thank you. I have to run.” My schedule for the day was packed. 10:00 AM: Hair and makeup trial. 1:00 PM: Wedding photoshoot. And in the evening, I had to finalize the guest list and RSVPs. Fortunately, I wasn’t doing any of this alone anymore.

At 8:00 PM, Carter called me. The background was incredibly noisy, filled with the shrieks and laughter of children. “Where are you? My mom wants us to come over for Thanksgiving dinner.” Anticipating my refusal, Carter quickly added, “Mom specifically told me to make sure you come with me.” “I’m at the bridal salon.” “Send me the address. I’ll pick you up.” After a brief silence, I texted him the address. Carter arrived incredibly fast, almost as if he had already been waiting nearby. I walked up to the car and reached for the front passenger door. It was locked. As I reached for it a second time, the window rolled down. “I’m so sorry, Natalie,” Chloe said with a sweet, helpless smile from the passenger seat. “I get terrible motion sickness if I sit in the back. Do you mind?” I stood there, motionless. Carter cleared his throat. “Natalie, she gets sick easily. Just let her have the seat.” Let her have it? I hadn’t said a single word, yet somehow, I was the one being difficult. Carter frowned impatiently. “My parents are waiting. Just get in, quickly.” I turned and opened the back door. There were three seats in the back. Two of them were taken up by bulky child safety seats. The remaining middle seat was piled high with shopping bags and toys. Chloe turned around, looking embarrassed. “Carter took us to the theme park today, and the kids got a little carried away with the souvenirs.” “You don’t mind squeezing in a bit, do you, Natalie?” It was only then that I noticed all four of them were wearing matching family outfits. I didn’t say a word. I squeezed into the tight space, closed my eyes, and leaned my head against the cold window. During the entire drive, the two of them chatted happily about parenting styles and planning their next summer vacation. Not once was I included in any of those plans. The moment we walked through the door, Carter’s mother, Mrs. Miller, rushed over with a huge smile. “Chloe, darling! You’re finally here! Come in, come in!” “And look at my beautiful grandbaby boy and girl!” Mrs. Miller completely bypassed me, pulling Chloe toward the dining room. Carter followed right behind, carrying the kids. I was left standing at the entrance like an invisible ghost. At the dinner table, Mr. and Mrs. Miller sat at the head. Carter sat next to Chloe and the kids. I was placed at the very end of the long table, next to the kitchen door. “Chloe, try this. I made all of your favorites tonight!” Mrs. Miller said warmly. I glanced over the table. They had invited me under the guise of a family holiday, yet there wasn’t a single dish on the table that I wasn’t allergic to or that I actually liked. “Natalie,” Mrs. Miller suddenly spoke up, her voice dropping its warmth. “I heard you canceled the dress Chloe worked so hard to find for you?” I took a sip of my water. “Yes.” Mrs. Miller’s brow furrowed in deep disapproval. “How could you just cancel it like that? Do you have any idea how much time and effort Chloe put into picking that out for you? You are so ungrateful.” I set my glass down, my voice quiet but firm. “Because it’s my wedding.” Mrs. Miller pointed a finger at me, her face red. “You are such an stubborn, difficult girl!” Carter didn’t even look up. He was fully occupied cutting the steak on Chloe’s plate and feeding the kids. After the miserable dinner finally ended, Mrs. Miller immediately told me to clean up the table and wash the dishes. Meanwhile, Chloe sat comfortably in the living room, eating fresh fruit that Carter was peeling for her. Suddenly, my lower abdomen cramped painfully. My phone buzzed. A custom alarm went off, and Carter’s recorded voice played through the speaker: “Hey babe, your period is starting today. Remember to stay warm and don’t touch cold water, okay?” Carter had set that reminder himself years ago. He had said, “I have a terrible memory, so this way I won’t ever forget to look after you.” But now I realized it wasn’t about his memory. He just never kept me in his heart. He remembered Chloe’s favorite foods, the exact dates of her cycle, and every little preference of those two kids. He just couldn’t remember mine. “Let me take over. Go rest.” Carter suddenly appeared and took the dish towel from my hand. In the living room, Chloe and Mrs. Miller were playing with Lego blocks with the kids. Mr. Miller was sitting on the patio, peacefully sipping his tea. Only I stood there, feeling like an unwanted intruder in someone else’s perfect family. At 9:00 PM, a massive storm rolled in, rain lashing against the windows. “Chloe, you and the kids are staying here tonight,” Mrs. Miller announced. Chloe shot a quick, guilty glance at me. “But there’s only Carter’s room. Where will he sleep?” Mrs. Miller patted her hand reassuringly. “Natalie isn’t married into the family yet, so it’s not appropriate for her to sleep over anyway. Carter can just sleep on the couch.” Then, she turned to me with a fake, polite smile. “Natalie, it’s getting late and the storm is bad. It’s not safe for a girl to drive alone, so I won’t keep you any longer.” I nodded, grabbed my purse, and walked out without another word. Carter ran out after me, grabbing my arm in the hallway. “Natalie, don’t overthink this. My mom is just looking out for your reputation.” I violently shook his hand off and took a step back.

“Carter, do you really not see how differently your family treats me compared to Chloe?” “Or is the truth just that the daughter-in-law you all wanted was never me, but her?” A flash of pure guilt washed over Carter’s face, and his voice became stiff. “How can you say something so ridiculous? My mom just treats Chloe like her own daughter.” “Look, if we made you feel bad, I apologize.” He leaned down to meet my eyes, softening his tone. “I know you can be a bit sensitive and jealous. I’ll make sure to pay more attention next time, okay?” “Don’t frown so much. You’re going to be the most beautiful bride next week.” “Carter,” I said quietly, “I already canceled the entire wedding.” He chuckled, not taking me seriously at all. “I know. Didn’t you just book a different venue and dress today? I saw the charge.” But the groom wasn’t him anymore. I opened my mouth, but the words stayed trapped in my throat. I chose to stay silent. As Carter escorted me to my Uber, I called out to him just before closing the door. “Carter, come home early tomorrow morning.” He frowned. “Is something wrong? I promised Mason I’d take him to the arcade tomorrow morning.” I looked at him, a bitter taste filling my mouth. Mason had only mentioned the arcade once at the dinner table, and Carter remembered it perfectly. But the appointment I had reminded him of multiple times was completely wiped from his brain. “Tomorrow morning is my post-surgery checkup for my fractured wrist.” He froze, looking incredibly conflicted. “Can… can you reschedule it to the afternoon? I really don’t want to break my promise to a kid.” “Never mind. I’ll go talk to Mason tonight and see if we can go to the arcade later. I’ll text you in the morning.” But I never received that text. I waited until noon the next day, alone. I went to the hospital by myself, registered, and waited in line for an hour. After the examination, the doctor’s face was grim. “The bone isn’t healing well at all. Have you not been resting it?” I remained silent for a moment. “I’ve been busy… preparing for a wedding next week.” “Can’t the groom handle those things? Let me be blunt, if you keep straining this wrist, you’re looking at permanent nerve damage.” Holding my medical report, I sat on the hallway bench for a long time before finally heading back to the apartment. The moment I pushed the door open, a small white dog rushed out, barking aggressively at me. Having been severely bitten by a stray dog when I was a child, my survival instinct kicked in. I reflexively kicked the dog away. Mason was the first to run out of the bedroom. Seeing the dog whimpering on the floor, he screamed in rage and charged straight at me, slamming his body into mine. I instinctively raised my hands to protect myself. The next second, the color drained from my face. A sharp, white-hot agony shot through my newly set wrist. Carter was the second to run out. He didn’t even look at me. His entire focus was on comforting the crying boy. “It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s going to take the dog to the vet right now.” He scooped up the dog with one arm and pulled Mason with the other, rushing toward the door. “Stop,” I gasped, holding my throbbing wrist. Carter turned, his face contorted in anger. “Get out of the way!” I didn’t back down. Instead, I stepped forward and pointed at the silver necklace dangling from the dog’s collar. “Give that back to me.” “Are you out of your mind?! It’s just a stupid necklace!” Carter yelled. Just a stupid necklace? I was raised by my grandma, and that necklace was the only thing she left me before she passed away. The day Grandma gave it to me, Carter was standing right there. He had sworn to her that he would love me forever and never let anyone hurt me. Yet now, the person hurting me the most was him. Carter violently ripped the necklace off the dog’s collar. The string snapped, and the silver pendant fell to the hardwood floor with a sharp metallic clink. As he turned his back to leave, I screamed after him with every ounce of strength I had left: “Carter! If you walk out of this door today, the wedding is officially off!” He didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t look back. For the next few days, Carter never came back to the apartment. And I used that time to pack up every single thing I owned and moved out of the home I had spent years decorating. The night before the wedding, Carter finally sent me a text. “I have to take Mason for his kindergarten physical tomorrow morning, so I might be a bit late. Just take the bridesmaids and go straight to the venue.” I didn’t bother replying. I blocked his number and deleted him from my contacts. The next morning, when the groomsmen arrived at my apartment to pick up the bride, no one answered the door. One of them eventually climbed through a window, only to find the entire apartment completely empty. Panic finally set in, and someone called Carter. “Carter, bro… Natalie is gone. She’s not here.”

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He dropped to his knees right there under my apartment building. In front of Aiden Hall. That man who had spent three years married to me without ever truly looking at me. That man who had treated me like air for the sake of Sophie Dane. Now the president of Cole Capital was kneeling in the rain, soaked through, apologizing again and again like his life depended on it. How funny. Where was he when his mother humiliated me with money? Where was he when I spent night after night alone in an empty house, unable to sleep? Now that I had dragged him into court and ruined his reputation, he suddenly wanted to call it love? I looked at his bloodshot eyes and felt nothing. Only contempt. Love that comes too late is cheaper than dirt. What he did not know was that my revenge had only just begun. And he knew even less about the real tragedy behind our marriage. The whole thing had been a lie from the start, staged by the people closest to him. 0 My thirty-second birthday happened to be the third anniversary of my marriage to Grayson Cole. At five o’clock sharp, I left work and went to the grocery store. I bought sea bass, asparagus, and a small cut of steak. Every one of them was something he had once mentioned at dinner in passing. I remembered everything. Back at the suburban villa everyone called home, the silence felt like another kind of weather. The housekeeper had already left. There was no sound in that huge place except my breathing. I changed out of my lawyer’s suit, tied on an apron, and walked into the kitchen. For one brief second, I caught my own reflection and nearly laughed. In court I fought over property division and dignity for other women. At home I played the role of a good wife waiting for her husband to come back. I had been performing that part for three years. Long enough to nearly believe it. At eight, the table was set. Four dishes. One soup. A glass of red wine for me. I waited. At nine, the food went cold. I reheated everything. At ten, it went cold again. This time I left it there. It takes three minutes to reheat a dish. How long does it take to warm a dead heart? At ten-thirty, the code lock at the front door beeped. He was home. His steps were steady as always. He smelled like a sweet floral perfume that was not his. My stomach turned. He glanced at the table, then tossed me a branded envelope from some luxury department store. “Allowance,” he said. That was his preferred way to fulfill his duty as a husband. Efficient. Convenient. Emotionless. I looked up at him. “Grayson, do you remember what today is?” He paused while loosening his tie, frowned as if he had been handed a difficult equation, then gave up. “Not important.” Then he went upstairs. Not important. My birthday was not important. Our wedding anniversary was not important. The evening I had spent preparing everything was not important. I poured my wine down in one swallow, got up, and dumped the fish, the asparagus, the steak, and the soup into the trash one by one. It sounded like a funeral. A quick, careless one for a three-year marriage. Then I messaged my best friend Chloe Benson. I decided. 0

The next morning, I was in court at nine o’clock sharp. My client was a woman who had survived ten years of domestic abuse. Broken nose twice. Cigarette burns on both arms. Her husband refused to divorce her unless she surrendered her property rights and gave up their child. She trembled in the hallway before the hearing. “Ms. Sutton… I’m scared.” I squeezed her hand. “Don’t be. From today on, no one touches you again. I will get back everything they took from you.” The opposing counsel tried to call ten years of violence “ordinary marital conflict.” I answered with hospital reports, witness recordings, bloody clothing, and screenshots of the husband’s drunken boasts about how he disciplined his wife. By closing argument, the room was silent. “The law is not here to excuse power,” I said. “It is here to protect the weak. Marriage should never become a cover for violence. My client is not here for pity. She is here for justice, dignity, and what is hers.” We won. Seventy percent of the marital property to my client. Full custody of the child. Monthly support. A restraining order. When I got back to Benson & Sutton, Chloe already had coffee waiting. She was my law school friend, my best friend, and my partner. “So Her Majesty has returned victorious?” I dropped into the sofa. “Her Majesty is exhausted.” Chloe tilted her head. “You go into court and tear men apart for other women, then go home and let your own husband ignore your existence. Terrible business model, Mia.” “Exactly,” I said. “So I’m done.” I opened a blank document and typed five words: Divorce Settlement Agreement. Chloe watched quietly for a long moment, then only said, “Fine. Tonight I’m buying dinner. And none of it is cooked by you.” 0

The first draft came fast. Clear logic. Clean clauses. When I reached the property section, I stopped. The villa. The luxury cars. The unlimited secondary card Grayson had given me. Three years ago, my family put a price on me. Three hundred thousand dollars. Now I was buying myself back. So I wrote a single sentence: I voluntarily waive all rights to division of marital property. Not because I was noble. Because I wanted nothing tying me to him anymore, least of all money. I needed the policy number from the one insurance plan we held jointly, so I texted Grayson. Where’s the insurance contract? Study. Third cabinet on the left. It was the first time in three years I had entered his study. The room smelled like his cologne and looked exactly like him. Dark, precise, expensive, and completely lifeless. I found the contract. Then I noticed the top drawer of his desk. Unlocked. That was unusual for Grayson. I opened it. Inside was a velvet box. Inside the box was a silver photo frame. In the picture, Grayson was smiling. Really smiling. It was a version of his face I had never seen. In his arms was Sophie Dane in a white dress, laughing into the camera. His fiancée who had run the night before their wedding. His great unfinished love. On the back of the frame was an engraved line in his handwriting. My Sophie. My only one. I stood there holding it while the last of my self-deception died quietly. I was not even a substitute. I had been a temporary bandage over a social embarrassment. I put the frame back exactly as I found it and walked downstairs. Grayson was in the living room watching financial news. “Found it?” “Yes.” I set the insurance contract down and looked him in the eye. “Grayson, we need to talk.” 0

He turned off the television. The silence that followed was immediate and heavy. “About what?” I did not answer directly. “We’re going to the main house this weekend.” That was the Cole family rule. First weekend of every month. For three years it had felt like attending a funeral. This time, I needed to go. I needed the right opening. At lunch the next day, Evelyn Cole finally raised the subject she always circled sooner or later. “Mia, you’ve been married to Grayson for three years now. Why is there still no child? This family needs an heir.” Every relative at the table looked at me. Sympathy. Curiosity. Mockery. I looked only at my husband. He lowered his head and drank his soup, as if his mother were speaking about the weather and not about his wife sitting three feet away. That was Grayson. Every time this family made me bleed, he chose silence. Not a bystander. An accomplice. I smiled politely and said, “You’re right. I haven’t done well enough.” Evelyn seemed pleased by my obedience. On the drive home, Grayson finally said, “Don’t take what my mother says seriously.” I laughed. “I don’t. I just finally understood something. We need to talk. Properly this time.”

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Blurb: Joanna Stone chased Ethan Quinn for seven years, suffering cold looks and humiliation, just to complete the system mission and resurrect her true lover Liam White. One week before the wedding, Ethan’s old love Serena Blair returned to the city. He ruined Joanna’s career for Serena, forced her to apologize in public, and even let Serena try on the wedding dress she designed herself. Joanna endured it all because she just wanted the wedding to go smoothly. But on the wedding day, Ethan abandoned her in public for Serena, destroying her last hope with his own hands. After the mission failed, Joanna completely disappeared. Later, Ethan learned that the woman he had never cherished had never come to love him from the beginning. “Welcome to my food livestream channel. Today I will show you one of Graybridge’s hardest-to-book fine dining restaurants…” Joanna Stone showed her iconic smile to the camera, with several exquisite and picturesque dishes in front of her. As a leading food streamer with over 10 million fans on the Internet, her livestream online audience instantly exceeded 100,000. Just as she was about to take her first bite, the private room door was suddenly pushed open. There was a burst of chaotic footsteps and joking laughter. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Quinn’s shadow. What, he doesn’t have time for you today, so you came here to smile for money?” Joanna’s hand holding the knife and fork paused, and the smile froze on her face. The visitors were several well-known wealthy men from Graybridge, and the one in the middle was her fiancé whom she had been chasing for seven years and who was about to get married in a week — Ethan Quinn. Ethan was wearing a neatly tailored black haute couture suit, with a stern look on his face, and undisguised indifference and boredom in his dark eyes. He just glanced at her, as if looking at a cheap ornament. “Ethan, your fiancée is so down-to-earth. The bride-to-be of the Quinn family is not ashamed to advertise the restaurant online every day.” The person next to him deliberately raised his voice. The livestream barrage exploded instantly. [What is going on? Anna is engaged to the president of Quinn Group?] [These people are awful. Since when is being a food streamer shameful?] [Look at Quinn’s face. He clearly can’t stand her. Is she the one clinging to him?] Joanna took a deep breath, ignored the harsh taunts, and just looked at Ethan quietly. “I’m working.” Her voice was soft but enough for everyone to hear clearly. Ethan walked up to her and looked down at her condescendingly. He stretched out his slender fingers and pressed directly on her phone holder, with a cold tone: “Turn it off.” “I have signed a contract for this promotion, and the penalty fee…” “I told you to shut it down.” Ethan cut her off, anger flashing in his eyes. “Joanna, have you forgotten who you are? The Quinn family does not need someone chasing attention online.” A sharp pain stabbed through Joanna’s chest, like a cluster of fine needles. Joanna pursed her lips, looked at his cold face, and finally reached out and forcibly cut off the livestream in front of 100,000 viewers. The moment the screen went black, the room burst into laughter. “Hahaha, Ethan really trained her well. So obedient. He says turn it off, and she turns it off.” “Since the livestream is off, why don’t you serve us today, Ms. Food Streamer? We haven’t eaten yet. Clear this table and serve us again.” This blatant humiliation made Joanna’s fingertips dig deep into her palms. She looked up at Ethan, trying to find a hint of protection in his eyes. No. Ethan just walked to the main seat and sat down, leaning against the back of the chair lazily, and coldly uttered two words: “Pour the wine.” He acquiesced in their humiliation. In fact, he was the leader of this humiliation. Joanna felt a little sore in her eyes, but she held it back. She stood up, picked up the decanter on the table, walked to Ethan, bent slightly, and slowly poured the red wine into his glass. “That’s right. Know your position.” The young master next to him laughed more and more crazily. Joanna was like a soulless puppet, mechanically pouring wine and serving dishes for them, and listened to their bottomless belittling of her career and origins. [Ding—] A mechanical electronic tone suddenly rang in her mind. [Host, mission progress has reached 99%. As long as your wedding to Ethan is completed in one week, you will receive the final reward.] Hearing this sound, Joanna’s tense body miraculously relaxed. It doesn’t matter, she told herself. As long as she can get through this week, as long as the wedding goes smoothly, she can complete the system’s mission. She didn’t care how Ethan humiliated her, nor did she care whether he loved her or not. She did all this, endured all the injustice and followed him for seven years, just in exchange for the only reward — resurrecting her true lover, Liam White. “Enough. Looking at you ruins my appetite.” Ethan suddenly set down his glass with a sharp clink. He stood without sparing her another glance. “Go settle the bill, then get out.” Joanna lowered her head and responded softly: “Okay.” She turned towards the bar and settled the six-figure bill. When she walked out of the restaurant, it started to rain heavily outside. The cold rain hit her face, but she didn’t hide. She just looked at the countdown on the screen of her phone. Seven days left. Liam, wait for me.

The villa was eerily empty and unpopular late at night. Joanna took a hot bath, put on clean home clothes, and sat on the sofa in the living room to wait for Ethan. Today is their third engagement anniversary. On the coffee table were cakes she had made by herself, as well as a table of completely cold dishes. She waited until two o’clock in the morning, but there was no movement at the gate. She picked up her phone and opened her chat with Ethan. The last message was still the one she had sent that afternoon: [Come home early today. I made your favorite dishes.] There had been no reply. Just when she was about to throw away the cold meal, her phone suddenly vibrated. It’s not Ethan’s message, but a push that the social platform pays special attention to. She clicked on the screen and what came into view was a high-definition photo taken secretly at the airport. In the photo, Ethan, who has always been mysophobic and doesn’t like to be touched by others, is holding a woman wearing a white windbreaker tightly in his arms. His eyes were full of enthusiasm and lost treasure that Joanna had never seen in the past seven years. The woman was wearing sunglasses, but Joanna recognized her at a glance—Serena Blair, Ethan’s first love, and the old obsession in his heart that he couldn’t touch or forget. Three years ago, Serena dumped Ethan without mercy and went abroad to study in order to pursue her dream of dancing. Ethan stood in the heavy rain all night with a high fever. Joanna took care of him sleeplessly for three days and three nights. Later, he agreed to Joanna’s proposal. Everyone said that Joanna finally warmed up the iceberg after seven years of humility. But only Joanna knew that he was just angry. Now, Serena is back. Joanna looked at the photo quietly, and there was no heartbreaking feeling in her heart as she expected, only a kind of numbness that finally fell to the ground. There was a beeping sound from the door combination lock. Ethan walked in with a chill, his suit jacket hanging on his arms, the collar of his shirt slightly open, showing a rare mixture of exhaustion and excitement. Seeing Joanna sitting on the sofa, the emotion on his face instantly calmed down and returned to his frosty look. “Why haven’t you slept yet?” He said calmly. “Waiting for you.” Joanna stood up and pointed to the cake on the table, “Today is the engagement anniversary.” Ethan’s eyes stayed on the cake for a second, then moved away, and said impatiently: “I forgot. I’m very tired, so I went to take a shower first.” He didn’t explain or apologize. “Ethan.” Joanna stopped him, “Serena is back, right?” Ethan’s steps suddenly stopped. He turned around and his eyes instantly became sharp, as if he was examining a prisoner who had crossed the line: “Are you investigating me?” “You guys have become a hot topic.” Joanna raised her phone. Ethan saw the photo on the screen clearly. Instead of being embarrassed by being exposed, Ethan sneered confidently: “Since you saw it, I won’t hide it from you. Serena has just returned to this city and is not emotionally stable. I will spend more time with her during this time.” “What about our wedding?” Joanna asked the question she was most concerned about. “The wedding is as usual.” Ethan tugged on his tie, with a pity-like compensatory arrogance in his voice, “Joanna, you should be content. Mrs. Quinn’s position is yours. For the rest, you’d better not expect anything else, and don’t disturb Serena.” After saying that, he went upstairs without looking back. Joanna stood there, looking at the exquisite cake on the table, and suddenly felt a little funny. She picked up the knife, cut a piece of cake and stuffed it into her mouth. It’s so sweet that it tastes bitter. Ethan thought she loved him so much that she had no dignity, and thought she couldn’t live without him. But he didn’t know that what she wanted was never his love, nor the position of Mrs. Quinn. [Host, emotional fluctuation detected in the male lead. Please stabilize the plot and make sure the wedding proceeds smoothly.] The system’s voice sounded at the right moment. “I know.” Joanna swallowed the bitter cake and poured the rest into the trash can. As long as he didn’t cancel the wedding, she didn’t care who he accompanied or who he loved. After washing and lying on the bed, Joanna closed her eyes, and Liam’s gentle and jade-like face appeared in her mind. “Anna, when I get better, we will go to the beach to watch the sunrise.” Those were the last words Liam said to her before he died. For this promise, she endured seven years in this cold world. Come on, Liam. Six days to go.

In the early morning, she was awakened by a series of phone calls from her agent Maya Reed. “Joanna, look at the social media platform! The producer of the global food documentary “Flavor Search” that you have been preparing for half a year suddenly and unilaterally announced a replacement!” She sat up suddenly, no longer feeling sleepy. “Flavor Pathfinding” is the most important part of her career. In order to win the position of the resident host, she did not rest for more than half a year. She traveled to many countries to test dishes and write plans. She even suffered from acute gastritis due to overwork. The producer just confirmed the final contract with her yesterday, so why did she suddenly change her? She quickly opened her social media platform, and the first one on the hot topic list was: #Serena Blair airborne flavor search# Click on it to see the latest official announcement released by the producer. The picture is of Serena Blair wearing a white dress and smiling innocently. The comment section was in an uproar. Her fans were frantically defending their rights, while Serena’s fans were mocking her for not having enough status and saying that Internet celebrities should not touch porcelain artists. Her fingers were trembling slightly, and she immediately dialed the number of the producer’s chief director. “Director Harris, what on earth is going on? Hasn’t our contract already…” “Ms. Stone, I’m really sorry.” Director Harris’ tone was helpless and flattering, “This is not something we can decide. Quinn Group suddenly fully acquired the production company last night, and Mr. Quinn personally said that he would give this position to Miss Serena.” There was a bang. Her mind went blank. She hung up the phone, took a taxi and rushed to the Quinn Group headquarters without even changing her clothes. Arriving at the executive’s office unimpeded, she pushed open the door to Ethan Quinn’s office. In the office, Ethan Quinn was sitting on a large leather chair, while Serena Blair was sitting on the sofa next to him, holding a cup of coffee in her hand, and the two were talking and laughing. Seeing her barging in, Serena immediately put down her coffee cup and shrank behind Ethan. “Ethan…” Her voice was delicate. Ethan’s face instantly darkened and he stared at her coldly: “Who taught you the rule of not knocking when you enter?” “Why?” She ignored his scolding and walked straight to the desk, staring at him. “”Flavor Pathfinding” is the hard work I have been preparing for half a year. Why did you give it to her with just one sentence?” Ethan leaned back in his chair, his eyes contemptuous: “I am an investor.” He stood up, walked to Serena, patted her shoulder gently, and when he looked at her again, there was only coldness in his eyes. “Serena has just returned to this city and needs a program with a wide audience coverage to regain her popularity. As a blogger of a broken shop, what is the use of such resources? It’s just to eat and Drink.” “Potan shop blogger?” She laughed angrily, but her eyes were red, “Ethan Quinn, that is my career! It was the opportunity I bought after spending countless late nights and getting rejected! In order to please her, are you going to destroy my hard work?” “Watch your words.” Ethan frowned and said in a serious tone, “Serena is a classical dancer, and her temperament is more suitable for this kind of high-end documentary than you. If you want resources, I will ask my assistant to arrange the promotion of several big-name skin care products for you. Don’t make trouble here.” “I don’t want promotion, I just want “Flavor Pathfinding”.” She looked at him stubbornly. At this time, Serena gently pulled Ethan’s sleeve, her eyes were slightly red: “Ethan, forget it, since Ms. Stone likes it so much, I will just give it back to her. I don’t want to affect your relationship because of me.” “Don’t give in.” Ethan held Serena’s hand in his hand and looked at her sharply. “Joanna, do you have to be so fussy about it? Serena has suffered a lot abroad. What’s wrong with me compensating her with a show? As my future wife, you don’t even have this generosity?” What ridiculous logic. He used her hard work to compensate for his obsession with his old love, and blamed her for not being generous enough. She looked at the two people’s clasped hands, and her heart seemed to be clenched tightly by a big invisible hand, which was so painful that she couldn’t breathe. This is the man she has been conquering for seven years. Cold-blooded, selfish, trampling on her dignity and hard work. “Okay, I’m generous.” She took a deep breath and pushed back the tears in her eyes. She looked at Ethan and said word by word, “Ethan Quinn, I gave this program to her.” Ethan was stunned for a moment, as if he didn’t expect that she would compromise so easily. He looked at her eyes that were so calm that they were almost lifeless, and he felt inexplicably irritated in his heart. “You know what’s going on.” He snorted coldly. Without looking at them again, she turned and walked out of the office. The moment she closed the door, she leaned against the cold wall, gasping for air. It doesn’t matter, she told herself again. Five days to go. Once the mission is completed, she will no longer have to suffer this kind of torture.

The storm of substitutions in “Flavour Pathfinding” has not subsided yet, and an even bigger storm is following. That afternoon, Serena Blair posted a photo of herself on an IV at the hospital, with the caption: [My first big meal after returning to this city, and I ended up spending it in the ER. Everyone, please be careful about restaurant hygiene.] In the background, the takeout bag from a well-known private restaurant was faintly visible. And this private restaurant was the one she had strongly recommended in the livestream the day before yesterday. Serena’s fans immediately rushed into her social account like sharks smelling blood. [Shameless blogger! She took dirty money to recommend a trash restaurant and gave our Serena food poisoning!][People like this will promote anything for money. This is practically attempted murder for profit!][Ban Joanna! Make her disappear from public view!] In just two hours, the terms #Joanna Stone Fake Store Visit# and #Serena Blair Food Poisoning became hot topics on social platforms. The reputation she had accumulated for seven years was about to collapse in an instant. She immediately contacted the owner of the restaurant and verified the monitoring and meal delivery records of the day. All ingredients had strict inspection and quarantine certificates, and there was no possibility of food poisoning. This is a complete frame-up. She had just compiled the clarification evidence and was ready to release it when the door of the villa was pushed open violently. Ethan Quinn strode in with violent anger, grabbed the laptop from her hand, and smashed it to the ground. There was a loud “bang” and the screen shattered instantly. “Ethan Quinn, why are you crazy!” She stood up and looked at him angrily. “Am I crazy?” Ethan grabbed her chin with such force that he almost crushed her bones, his eyes were scarlet. “Joanna, do you dare to say that Serena’s food poisoning was not caused by you? Because I gave her the show, you held a grudge and deliberately recommended that unclean restaurant to her!” “I didn’t!” She was forced to raise her head, tears welling up in her eyes because of the pain, “There’s nothing wrong with that restaurant, it’s her who is acting!” “Bang!” A hospital diagnosis report was thrown hard on her face, and the sharp edge of the paper scratched her cheek, leaving a thin trail of blood. “It says acute gastroenteritis in black and white, and you still dare to quibble!” Ethan’s voice was as cold as ice. “Joanna, I only thought you were clingy and humble before, but I didn’t expect you to be so vicious!” She didn’t read the report. She knew that with Ethan’s methods, it would be easy to get a fake medical certificate. He didn’t care about the truth at all, he only cared that Serena had been wronged. “What do you want?” Her voice was as light as a gust of wind, revealing deep weakness. “Apologize.” Ethan let go of his hand, took out a handkerchief and wiped his fingers in disgust, “Start a livestream immediately and apologize to Serena in front of the entire network. Admit that you took the black money and made false publicity.” Her eyes suddenly widened and she looked at him in disbelief. Admitting to false advertising would have completely ruined her career in the content industry. The credibility she has accumulated step by step over the past seven years will be destroyed in one day! “Ethan Quinn, you are forcing me to death.” She was shaking all over. “You owe her this.” Ethan showed no mercy. “If you don’t do it, I will have the entire local media ban you tomorrow. Guess whether the penalty fee you face will make you go to jail?” He is threatening her with what she cares about most… More importantly, if she is banned from the entire network or even faces a lawsuit, the wedding in a week will definitely be affected, and the system’s mission will fail. Joanna looked at the man in front of her who she had loved for seven years but was so cruel to her. The last spark in her heart went out completely. “Okay, I apologize.” Ten minutes later, she started the livestream. She had no makeup, there was a faint bloodstain on her cheek, and her face was as pale as paper. Millions of people flooded into the livestream instantly, and the barrage was full of unsightly abuse. Ethan stood outside the camera, watching her coldly. She bowed deeply to the camera. “I’m sorry. It was me who accepted sponsorship from the restaurant and carried out false publicity, which caused Ms. Serena’s physical harm. I am here to solemnly apologize to Ms. Serena and all the fans who trust me.” Every word seemed to linger in her soul. She personally tore her seven years of hard work into pieces in front of everyone. The comments in the barrage were loud and loud, and the rate of followers dropping was visible to the naked eye. Ethan looked at her obedient look, but his heart was not as happy as he expected. Instead, he felt as if he was blocked by something and felt uncomfortable. After the livestream ended, she slumped on the chair, like a rag doll whose soul had been drained. Ethan walked up to her and said condescendingly: “Recognize the reality early and stop doing these little tricks. Just wait and be your bride.” She didn’t look up, just looked at the countdown to the wedding on her phone. Four days to go. Liam, she’s so tired. But for you, she can endure anything.

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My fiancé, Evan Carter, was sleeping with my half-sister, Sophia Lynn. At our engagement party, in front of every notable name in the city, I put their intimate video up on the big screen. Overnight, I became the laughingstock of Bay City — and the Lynn family threw me headfirst into Polaris Tech, a company teetering on the edge of bankruptcy. In the middle of a downpour, I picked up a dangerous stranger and paid him half a million dollars to be my security consultant. He was quiet. He was ruthless. He noticed everything. When people came for me, he stepped up. When I was set up, he had my back. When I was accused of stealing someone else’s work, he took every bit of the blame himself. I told him to leave. All he said was, “I’ll make sure you win.” It wasn’t until every truth came to light that I finally understood — the rough stranger I’d pulled off the street was the real power behind Deep Bay Capital. Chapter 1 The night of the engagement party, I blew the whole thing up myself. I put the video on the ballroom screen — footage of my fiancé tangled up with my half-sister, right in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of their hotel room. Hundreds of people in that room. Every face that mattered in Bay City. I was wearing a custom gown worth seven figures and four-inch heels. I walked up to that stage in dead silence. Evan Carter rushed at me to grab the remote. I stepped aside and cracked him across the face with the back of my hand. The sound rang through the whole room over the premium sound system. The screen was supposed to play our love story highlight reel. Instead, it was playing high-definition security footage — the night before, the eve of our engagement party, him and my sister Sophia Lynn kissing by the window. Sophia hiked up her skirt and ran onto the stage, eyes red, reaching out to grab me. I stepped back. “Don’t touch me,” I said coldly. “You disgust me.” Evan stood there with his hand over his cheek, staring at me like he couldn’t believe what was happening. He thought I’d swallow it. That I’d keep my mouth shut to protect the Lynn family’s stake in the business. I picked up the microphone and looked out over the crowd — my father’s face had gone gray, and the guests were already whispering. “In front of everyone here tonight, I’m making this official — the engagement is over. I don’t want any part of this anymore.” I ripped the diamond necklace off my neck and threw it at Evan’s face. Then I turned and walked out of the ballroom. I pushed through the hotel doors and the rain hit me like a wall. No umbrella. No driver. For twenty-four years — ever since my mother died and that woman moved in with Sophia — I had been playing dumb. Keeping my head down. Pretending not to see. I was done pretending. I stood in the rain, shaking from the cold, my stomach cramping so badly I could barely breathe. I’d starved myself for three days to fit into that dress. A beat-up black SUV pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down. The smell of cheap tobacco drifted out. The man in the driver’s seat was wearing a faded black tank top. There was a jagged scar running down his arm. He wasn’t looking at me — he had a cigarette between his lips and his eyes fixed somewhere out in the rain. His profile was sharp enough to cut glass. “You getting in?” His voice was low and rough. I hesitated for a second, then pulled open the door and dropped into the passenger seat. “Drive.” He turned and looked at me. His eyes were black and flat, and the only thing in them was contempt. “My car. I don’t give rides to crazy women in wedding dresses.” I almost laughed. I reached into my clutch, pulled out a black card, and slapped it on the dashboard. “PIN is six zeros. There’s a million dollars on it. Get me out of here. Right now.” He looked at the card. His brow creased slightly, like he was looking at something unpleasant. Half a minute passed. He stubbed out his cigarette. “Buckle up.” The SUV roared out into the storm. Chapter 2 The inside of the car smelled like motor oil and tobacco — rough, but not unpleasant. I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes. The pain in my stomach was getting worse. I curled in on myself and pressed hard against my abdomen, trying to hold it together. “Where to?” he asked, out of nowhere. “Doesn’t matter.” I said it through clenched teeth. The car jerked to a hard stop at the side of the road. He got out. A few minutes later he came back, damp from the rain, and tossed a plastic bag into my lap. “Eat.” I opened it. Inside was a container of hot noodle soup, still steaming, and a box of antacids. I just stared at it. How did he know my stomach was hurting? “You’ve been holding your stomach the whole time. You’re white as a ghost.” His tone hadn’t warmed at all. “I don’t want a body in my car. Bad enough already.” I looked down at the soup in my hands, and my eyes started to sting. Three years together, and my fiancé never once knew I had a serious stomach condition. A complete stranger figured it out in ten minutes. I didn’t say anything. I just ate — fast, barely stopping to breathe. Cheap noodles and hot broth. Better than anything on the table at that party tonight. By the time I finished and took the antacids, I finally felt like a human being again. I turned and looked at him properly. He was young — twenty-two, twenty-three at most — but his eyes were deep and still, like the bottom of a dry well. No light in them at all. “What’s your name?” I asked. “Luca Hale.” He kept his eyes on the road ahead. “Luca Hale.” I turned the name over in my mouth. “Good name. Has an edge to it.” I pulled out a napkin and wiped my lips. “One million. Three months of your time. You in?” He finally turned to look at me, eyes sharp with suspicion. “For what?” “My driver. Security consultant. And someone to put down a few dogs that don’t know their place.” The Lynn family and Carter family alliance had fallen apart. My father wasn’t going to let that slide. Sophia and Evan would be working against me from the shadows, too. I needed someone outside that world — someone who could protect me. This Luca Hale had something about him. A recklessness. Like he had nothing left to lose. He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t need a million. Five hundred thousand. Half upfront, the rest when the three months are up.” That surprised me. “Deal.” “So.” He glanced over. “Where to?” I gave him an address. “East side. Polaris Tech.” It was a subsidiary under the Lynn family — barely staying afloat, bleeding out. My father had arranged it in advance, his way of punishing me for blowing up the engagement party. His idea of exile. He thought throwing me into that wreck of a company would break me. Make me crawl back. He was wrong. Polaris Tech was exactly where I was going to tear off the mask and start burning everything down. The car pulled back onto the road. The rain was easing up. I watched the city blur past the window, a cold smile pulling at the corner of my mouth. Evan Carter. Sophia Lynn. Everything you took from me — I’m coming to collect. With interest. Chapter 3 The Polaris Tech office building looked like a relic from the last century. Paint peeling off the walls. The elevator plastered with flyers and ads. I walked ahead, heels clicking against the floor. Luca followed silently behind me in a black tank top, like an immovable wall of darkness. I pushed open the conference room door and walked into a haze of smoke. A group of department managers were huddled around a table playing cards. The surface was buried under cigarette ash and takeout containers. Not one of them looked up when I walked in. “Well, well. If it isn’t the precious Miss Lynn.” It was Martin Beck, the head of the project department. “What’s the occasion? Did you actually find time in your busy schedule to grace our little dump with a visit?” He was a distant relative on Sophia’s mother’s side — planted here to skim off the top. I ignored him and walked straight to the head of the table. “Put your cards down.” Nobody moved. Martin even blew a smug smoke ring in my direction. I turned and looked at Luca. Just one look. That was enough. Luca crossed the room to where Martin was sitting. Without a word, he reached out, grabbed Martin by the collar, and hauled him clean out of his chair like he weighed nothing. “What the hell — let go of me!” Martin shrieked. Luca didn’t waste words. He grabbed Martin by the head and slammed it into the conference table. Bang. Cards and ashtrays scattered across the floor. Martin slumped over the table, bleeding, moaning into the surface. The room went dead silent. The other managers sat frozen, faces drained of color, not daring to breathe. “Now.” I leaned back in my chair and studied my fresh manicure. “Can we have a conversation?” “Starting today, I run Polaris Tech. Martin Beck — you’re fired. Pack your things and get out. The rest of you: I want every financial report and project status update from the past three years on my desk within thirty minutes. Anyone who can’t make that happen can follow him out the door.” I stood, walked out of the conference room, and didn’t look back. Luca released his grip and dropped Martin on the floor like a bag of trash, then fell into step behind me without rushing. Back in the executive office, thick with dust. I looked at Luca standing in the doorway like a dark sentinel. “Nice work.” “I get paid to work.” His tone was flat, like he’d just stepped on an ant. Over the next week, I tore through Polaris Tech like a storm. Every dead-weight freeloader was cut. Performance reviews were rewritten from the ground up. The people who’d been waiting to watch me fail went quiet. They finally understood — the so-called spoiled little rich girl who only knew how to shop was actually a viper. And she ate people alive. Throughout all of it, Luca never left my side. He barely spoke. Almost never initiated conversation. But he always had a glass of warm water ready when I needed it, and whenever I stayed late into the night, a hot meal would appear on my desk without a word. He functioned like a machine with no feelings — executing every instruction with perfect precision. But sometimes, in an unguarded moment, I’d catch him watching me. His gaze was deep and still, like he was looking through me at someone else — or like he was holding something back. Something that could break through at any moment. It unsettled me. I was used to having control over everything. But Luca was a variable I couldn’t calculate. He was too quiet. The kind of quiet that made your skin crawl. That afternoon, I was working through a proposal for a core AI algorithm. This was Polaris Tech’s only shot at survival. If we could win next month’s city contract bid, the company could turn everything around. But our current dev team couldn’t write the low-level code the contract required. Not even close. I pressed my fingers against my temples, frustration building to a breaking point. Then the office door opened. Luca stepped in. “Miss Lynn. Evan Carter is here.” The moment I heard that name, my expression went cold. “What does he want?” “He says he has a gift for you.” Luca stepped aside. Evan walked in wearing a tailored suit, looking every bit the part. Sophia was right behind him, their fingers laced together, the two of them practically glowing — like they’d shown up specifically to rub it in my face. I let out a short laugh and settled back into my chair. “Mr. Carter and Sophia — what a surprise. The engagement party never happened, so you two decided to honeymoon in my little dump instead?” Chapter 4 Evan Carter’s expression flickered for just a second before that sickening smile slid back into place. “Summer, you’re still upset with me. What happened that day — it was all a misunderstanding.” “A misunderstanding?” I raised an eyebrow. “When you had Sophia pinned against that glass wall, were you giving her CPR?” Sophia’s eyes went red instantly. “Summer, please don’t talk about Evan like that. It’s my fault — I couldn’t control my emotions—” “Shut up.” I cut her off, my voice ice-cold. “Nobody asked you. Put away the whole poor-little-me act. It makes me sick.” She shrank at my words, shoulders pulling in, and slipped behind Evan with a soft whimper, tears starting to fall. Evan pulled her close immediately, and the look he gave me was pure, undisguised contempt. “Summer Lynn, you used to be spoiled, sure — but at least you had some decency. When did you turn so cruel?” I almost laughed. “You two have a lot of nerve asking me that.” I wasn’t going to waste any more breath on them. “Say what you came to say and get out.” Evan drew a slow breath and pulled a document from his briefcase, slapping it onto my desk. “The city contract bid next month — it’s already been decided. Carter Tech has it locked.” He looked down at me with this smug, almost pitying satisfaction in his eyes. “I know you took over Polaris Tech to prove something to your father. But that company is a mess from the ground up. You have no shot.” “All you have to do is back down. Apologize to me. Sign over the development rights to the Lynn family property.” “Do that, and I’ll consider throwing Polaris a few scraps from the project. Enough to save face with your dad.” I stared at the document on the desk. My fingertips went cold. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. He didn’t just want to ruin me — he wanted to grind my dignity into nothing. Wanted me to crawl and beg. “Get out.” Two words. That was all. Evan’s face darkened like a storm rolling in. “Summer Lynn, don’t push your luck! You really think you’re still the spoiled little princess of the Lynn family? You’re nothing. You got thrown out like garbage!” He lunged forward, hand shooting out to grab my wrist. But he never made contact. A hand — knuckles sharp, grip like iron — clamped around his wrist and stopped him cold. Luca Hale. I hadn’t even heard him move. He was already beside me, his body squarely between me and Evan. “She told you to get out.” Luca’s voice was low. Dangerously quiet. Evan yanked hard against his grip — once, twice — and went nowhere. His face flushed with humiliation and fury. He jabbed a finger at Luca’s face. “Who the hell are you? You’re a security consultant. You don’t get to put your hands on me.” Luca didn’t bother to respond. His eyes went flat, and in one sharp motion, he twisted his wrist. A clean, brutal crack. Evan screamed and hit the floor on his knees, his wrist wrenched out of the socket. “Evan!” Sophia shrieked and threw herself toward him, face drained white. Luca looked down at the two of them with the same expression you’d give a pair of insects on the pavement. “Stay down. Next time it won’t just be the wrist.” Evan was drenched in sweat, trembling, eyes burning with hatred as he glared up at me and Luca. “Summer Lynn — you’ll regret this. I will make sure you can’t show your face in Bay City again.” He snarled the words through gritted teeth. Then, leaning on Sophia, he stumbled out of the executive office in a mess of pride and pain. Silence settled back over the room. I watched Luca. He stood there shaking out his wrist like he’d just tossed out a bag of trash. “You went too far,” I said, pressing my fingers to my temple. “The Carters aren’t going to let this go.” Luca turned and looked at me — really looked at me — his eyes sharp and burning with something I couldn’t quite name. “He was going to touch you.” Each word deliberate. “You’re paying me. I don’t let anyone touch you.” My heart skipped — just once, just slightly — and I turned away before he could see it. “There’s a dinner tonight,” I said, forcing the subject somewhere else. “You’re coming with me.” I had no choice. To get the funding that could save the company, I had to meet Harris — one of the most notoriously difficult investors in the circuit. Eight o’clock. A private room at the Bay Club. The lights were low, and the air was thick with the smell of alcohol. Harris was a bald man somewhere in his fifties. From the moment I walked through the door, his eyes had been crawling over me and not stopping. I kept my expression neutral and my glass in hand, playing the game through gritted teeth. “Miss Lynn,” he said, drawing it out, “I know Polaris Tech’s situation. The risk is just too high.” As he spoke, his hand drifted to my knee. “But then again… if you were to ask me yourself, personally, maybe we could work something out…” He leaned in closer. His breath hit my face, stale and suffocating. My stomach turned. I was just about to grab the wine bottle off the table and smash it over his head when the door to the private room was kicked wide open. The bang made everyone jump. Luca Hale stood in the doorway. The light from the room caught him—tight muscles, eyes cold as ice. He crossed the room in long strides, grabbed Harris by the hair, and dragged him straight off the couch. “What are you doing! Security! Security!” Harris shrieked at the top of his lungs. Luca didn’t bother responding. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey off the table and smashed it over Harris’s head. Glass shards, alcohol, and blood ran down Harris’s face. The entire room went dead silent. Luca tossed aside the broken glass and slowly, methodically wiped his hands with a napkin. Then he turned and looked at me. One word: “Let’s go.” His tone left no room for argument.

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Ethan Holt had never imagined that Evie Sterling would one day walk away from him. He had funded her for ten years, caged her for ten years, and convinced himself she would wait forever. For Sophia Grant, he slapped Evie, locked her up, and stripped away the last voting shares her family had left her. He trampled all over her love and still believed she would come back. Only after Lucas Grant took her into his protection, married her, and placed an empire in her hands did Ethan finally lose his mind. He wrecked his own legacy, survived a fall into the sea, and crawled back from hell like a possessive ghost, all for one purpose. To take her back. Evie only gave him one answer. “Ethan, the debt is repaid. We will never see each other again.” The world called him a madman for chasing after his lost love. Lucas Grant only held his wife closer and said with lazy contempt, “Ethan’s taste has always been terrible. Lucky for me, he let me steal the prize.” Everyone in Harbor City knew Evie Sterling was Ethan Holt’s pretty little ornament. What no one knew was that the obedient face he kept beside him had spent three years tangled in a secret affair with the man who had sponsored her since childhood. That night, Ethan returned from Wall Street after three years abroad. The first event on his schedule was a private charity cruise. In the VIP suite on the top deck, the air itself felt overheated. Evie was pinned against the glass with her wrists tied by his necktie, the city lights glittering behind her and Ethan’s cold, handsome face burning with possessive madness in front of her. “Ethan… that hurts…” He bit down at the back of her neck in answer. “Three years apart and you’ve already forgotten how to please me?” She cried quietly and let the tears fall. For three years she had lived on one sentence alone. Wait for me to come back. She had turned away every admirer and spent those years like a doll suspended on strings. When he was done, Ethan buttoned his shirt and put his mask back on. Then he lit a cigar and said, as casually as if he were discussing the weather, “Tomorrow the Holt and Grant families will formally announce the marriage alliance.” Her hands froze over the hem of her dress. “You’re getting married?” “Yes.” He looked down at her without emotion. “I’m marrying Sophia Grant. You’re marrying her brother, Lucas Grant.” The room spun. Lucas Grant. The ruthless head of the Grant family. “Why?” she whispered. “You told me to wait for you.” “I told you what I needed to tell you.” His voice turned colder. “Sophia is different. She’s clean. She can stand beside me in public. You can’t. The Holt family supported you for ten years. It’s time you repaid that debt.” Clean. That word sliced her open. So that was all she had ever been to him. A dirty little secret. She barely knew how she got out of the suite. Her dress hung crooked. The mark on her neck burned. Tears blurred her vision. At the corner of the hall, she ran straight into a broad chest that smelled faintly of cedar. She looked up and found herself face-to-face with a man in a black overcoat, tall, controlled, and dangerous in a way that did not need to be announced. His gaze dropped to the bite mark on her neck. Then his mouth curved. “Ethan’s taste,” he said softly, “is still as bad as ever.”

She knew who he was immediately. Lucas Grant. Sophia’s brother. Her future fiancé by arrangement. He studied her for a moment, then removed his coat and draped it over her shoulders. “Cover yourself,” he said. “I’d rather tomorrow’s headlines not say my fiancée showed up wearing another man’s marks.” She fled in humiliation. Back in the ballroom, the crowd had gathered around the staircase. Ethan stood there in a dark suit with Sophia on his arm. Sophia was all white silk and sweetness, the kind of beauty that looked fragile until you looked too closely. Evie stood in the shadows and tried not to look. Sophia noticed her anyway. “Ethan, that must be Evie,” she said with a smile. “You always said she was your best-behaved girl.” Ethan’s eyes dropped to Lucas’s coat over Evie’s shoulders, and his face darkened at once. “Where did you get that?” Before Evie could answer, Sophia covered her mouth and said with mock innocence, “That looks like my brother’s coat. Evie, were you with him just now?” Ethan leaned close enough that only she could hear him. “I told you to marry Lucas. I did not tell you to throw yourself at him.” Her heart dropped to the floor. He did not ask. He did not listen. He judged. So she smiled. “If you’re giving me away,” she said coolly, “wouldn’t it make sense to start pleasing my future husband early?” For the first time that night, Ethan looked shaken. Sophia saw it and smiled even more sweetly. “Come with me, Evie. Let’s talk about your wedding.” She led her out to the deck. The instant they reached a deserted corner, Sophia dropped the act. She raised her hand and showed off a huge pink diamond ring. “Ethan bought it at Sotheby’s for me,” she said. “Did you think sleeping with him for three years would make you special? You’re nothing but a bankrupt orphan he kept around.”

Evie recognized the diamond instantly. Years earlier, Ethan had sent her a picture of it from Europe and said, This stone would suit you. She had waited for months. Now it was on someone else’s hand. “Finished showing off?” Evie asked quietly. She tried to leave. Sophia grabbed her wrist. “As long as I’m here, you’ll never have a good life.” Then, with perfect timing, Sophia screamed. “Evie! What are you doing?” She let herself fall backward over the deck rail and into the heated pool below. The splash was enormous. “Sophia!” Ethan’s roar came from behind Evie. He jumped into the water, dragged Sophia out, and cradled her against him while she trembled and cried and pointed at Evie. “I only wanted to talk to her. Why would she push me?” The crowd gathered at once. Whispers spread. Ethan crossed the deck in three strides and slapped Evie so hard she hit the ground. Blood filled her mouth. “I didn’t push her,” she said, hand pressed to her swollen cheek. “She jumped.” “Shut up. Sophia can’t even swim. You think she’d risk her life just to frame you?” Ten years of attachment lost to one tear from another woman. He ordered his guards to drag her away. “Put her in the cold storage room. Let her cool off.” It was the ship’s frozen supply compartment. The metal door slammed shut behind her. The freezing air cut through her thin dress at once. Curled in the corner, shaking, she remembered something Ethan had once told her when she was ten and half-frozen in the snow. As long as I’m here, you’ll never be cold again. So vows expired too. By the time her breathing turned shallow and her consciousness started slipping, the heavy steel door exploded open. A tall silhouette stood in the flood of light beyond.

Lucas Grant walked into the freezer and found her half-conscious in the frost. His entire expression changed. He wrapped her in his coat, lifted her into his arms, and carried her out. When Holt security tried to stop him, he gave them one word. “Move.” His men raised guns. The guards backed off. “Anyone who touches my fiancée,” Lucas said, “goes overboard.” Meanwhile, upstairs, Ethan had just calmed Sophia when his assistant rushed in white-faced. “Mr. Grant broke into the freezer and took Ms. Sterling.” Ethan overturned the table so hard the glass exploded. His heart had been uneasy from the moment she was locked in there. Now he finally knew why. When Evie woke up, she was in a warm bedroom under expensive sheets with an IV in her hand. Lucas sat nearby, turning a silver lighter between his fingers. “You saved me.” “More accurately,” he said, “I saved my future wife.” He stepped closer and touched the swelling on her face with startling gentleness. “Do you see Ethan Holt clearly now? Ten years of obedience almost bought you a freezing death.” “I see him clearly now.” He bent close and lowered his voice. “Then make a deal with me. Marry me, and I’ll give you the power to crush Ethan Holt and Sophia Grant under your heel.” She looked him straight in the eyes. “All right.” That was the moment everything changed.

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My former best friend, Scarlett Vance, whom I hadn’t spoken to in ten years, suddenly sent me a friend request on Snapchat. [I was wrong back then. I shouldn’t have stolen Logan from you, and I shouldn’t have hidden your Harvard acceptance letter.] [I was out of my mind. I was just so jealous of you. You had everything, and even the guy I secretly liked was in love with you.] [I don’t know how you’re doing now, but I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.] At the same exact time, a FaceTime call request from my husband, Ethan Carter, popped up. “Scarlett has leukemia, Nora. She needs a bone marrow transplant, and you’re a match. For the sake of our five years of marriage, please help her.” Ethan pleaded with me when he got home. “I ran the tests. Only your marrow matches hers.” “Scarlett is an orphan, Nora. She doesn’t have a family like you do. You’re not just going to watch her die, are you?” I suppressed the storm of emotions swirling inside me and stared at him. “Why you? Why are you doing this too…” He gave a faint, gentle smile and casually stroked my hair. “Because Scarlett is the one I love.” “My sweet, naive girl. I’ve been cheating on you with her for three years. Did you really not notice?”

I didn’t even have time to process his words. Ethan looked at me with that familiar, doting gaze and tapped my phone screen, accepting Scarlett’s friend request on my behalf. I stared at him in disbelief. I couldn’t believe this was the man I had been married to for five years. “Do you even know what Scarlett did to me in the past?” I demanded, my voice trembling. He looked down at his phone. On his screen, a chat bubble from Scarlett lit up. A subconscious smile played on his lips. “Of course I know.” “But don’t worry, you’re still my wife.” “You’re not losing anything, Nora. Except for my love, you still have everything else.” The glass in my hand shattered on the floor. Ethan walked over, scooped me up effortlessly, and placed me on the sofa. My vision blurred as tears fell uncontrollably. “So both of you… both of my husbands… are doing this to me for her?” He knelt beside the sofa, looking up at me. He gently wiped the tears from my cheeks with his thumb. “Don’t cry. Don’t make a big deal out of a little bone marrow. You’ll recover after a few months of rest.” I slapped his hand away. He paused, then stood up, his face darkening with annoyance. “I’ll just be direct with you. Scarlett is pregnant with my baby.” “You know how desperately I’ve wanted a child.” “Scarlett’s condition is critical right now. I need you to save her.” Pregnant? My hand instinctively went to my lower stomach. Just this morning, I had sat in the bathroom for an hour, staring at the two pink lines on the pregnancy test. I had imagined a million ways to tell him. Would he be happy? Would he pick me up and spin me around? I had even booked a reservation at his favorite steakhouse for tonight. But in the end… Scarlett was pregnant with his child. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. Scarlett sent another message: [I’m sorry, Nora. I know nothing I say can make up for it.] [But I really can’t wait anymore. Please, save my baby.] The glare of the phone screen pierced my eyes. Her message sat there silently. Ten years. I thought this name had completely vanished from my life. I shouldn’t have stolen Logan from you, and I shouldn’t have hidden your Harvard acceptance letter. I stared at those words, my fingertips shaking. That summer, with my perfect SAT score, I had only applied to Harvard. But as the summer ended, my acceptance letter never arrived. By then, only a local state college would take me. I cried for weeks, thinking I just wasn’t good enough, and ended up going to that mediocre college. My boyfriend at the time, Logan Bennett, went to the same college to comfort me. We eventually got married. But seven years later, Scarlett got pregnant with his child. I had a breakdown, got a divorce, and cut Scarlett out of my life completely. And now, history was repeating itself. Ethan continued, his voice cold. “She’s never been loved since she was a kid. I’m just doing the right thing. There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” “Nora, you’ll help her, right?” For a second, I wanted to tell him that I was pregnant too. I wanted to see his reaction. But his phone screen was still lit up, displaying a lock screen photo of him and Scarlett laughing together. I finally nodded. “Okay.” He was stunned for a moment, then smiled and patted my head. “I knew you’d agree. You’ve always been so sensible.”

Yes, I had always been sensible. So sensible that I had let Scarlett take Logan, and now, I was letting her take Ethan too. I thought I would never cross paths with them again. But fate loved to play sick jokes. When I went to the clinic to get an abortion. I ran into Logan and Ethan, both of them accompanying Scarlett for her prenatal checkup. My brain went completely numb. I instinctively took a step back. The three of them looked up at the same time and saw me. Instinctively, both men stepped in front of Scarlett, shielding her behind their backs. Seeing this, a bitter pang of grief shot through my chest. Ultimately, it was Scarlett who broke the silence. “Nora? Long time no see.” She stood up, and Logan immediately reached out to support her waist. “What are you doing here? Are you feeling sick?” she asked. I didn’t say a word. She smiled, her eyes drifting from my face down to the medical consent form crumpled in my hand. “Nora, I’ve wanted to apologize to you in person for all these years.” Her eyes welled with tears, her voice trembling. “What happened back then was all my fault. I was too young, too jealous of you. You had a good family, perfect grades—you were always the chosen one.” She paused, looking down, her eyelashes fluttering. “Do you know how it feels to watch someone else’s happiness from the gutters? I envied you so much. So when you actively tried to be my friend, I didn’t know what to feel.” She looked up, her eyes red. “I felt resentful. Why did you have everything and still get to play the savior to me? So, I wanted to take everything from you.” Ethan frowned, throwing a brief glance at the surgical form in my hand. He took off his coat and draped it over Scarlett’s shoulders. “Don’t talk about the past. Your health comes first.” She gently pushed Ethan away and stepped closer, whispering in my ear. “But things are different now.” “Nora Miller, no matter how perfect you are, you always end up abandoned.” “I’m so sorry, but I’ve stolen your husband again.” Then she stepped back, her voice laced with tears. “Nora, I’m so sorry. Please don’t blame Ethan. It’s all my fault.” I couldn’t stand her pathetic act anymore. Before I realized what I was doing, my hand pushed her shoulder. Scarlett’s body toppled backward. She clutched her stomach. “It hurts!” Logan and Ethan immediately shoved me to the floor, rushing toward Scarlett without a backward glance. I hit the hard floor, a sharp pain shooting through my wrist. “Scarlett!” “Call a doctor! Logan, go get a doctor!” Nurses rushed over with a gurney. They lifted Scarlett onto it. Ethan held her hand tightly, running alongside the gurney. Then, his leather shoes stopped right in front of me. “I warned you.” “Her body can’t handle any accidents.” He knelt down and grabbed my wrist. His grip was so tight my bones ached. “If anything happens to my baby, you’ll pay for it.” I looked up into his eyes. They were filled with absolute hatred. I couldn’t see a single trace of the man who used to love me.

Scarlett miscarried. Ethan stood against the hospital wall, his hands buried in his hair. Logan sat on the other side, his eyes bloodshot. Both of their hearts belonged to Scarlett. But I didn’t need their love anymore. My wrist was still throbbing, and my palm was scraped raw from the fall. Neither of them asked if I was okay. They just stared at me. “Are you happy now?” Ethan hissed. “She was the one who—” Before I could finish, a sharp slap stung my face. My ears rang. My head whipped to the side, the taste of blood filling my mouth. I stared at him in utter disbelief. Ethan’s hand froze in mid-air. It took him a long moment to realize what he had done. He suddenly lunged forward and hugged me tight. “Nora, I’m sorry.” Just then, Scarlett’s door opened, and she stood there watching us. Ethan pulled away, adjusting his collar as if nothing had happened. “Nora, go home and wait for me.” “I’ll explain everything once I handle things here.” He turned and walked away. Logan glared at me before following him into the room. Why did they treat me like this? Ethan, you used to love me the most. On the day I divorced Logan, a crowd of people had gathered to watch the drama. Scarlett had clung to Logan’s arm, her belly slightly showing. “Look at yourself, Nora. Do you really think you’re worthy of me?” Logan had sneered. People were filming us on their phones. I stood there, wanting to scream that they were wrong. They were the ones who cheated. But my throat locked up, and my whole body shook. Then, a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me out of the crowd. Ethan stood in front of me, shielding me from Logan and Scarlett. He wiped my tears, his brow furrowed with pure anger toward them. “They aren’t worth your tears.” “Never cry for them again.” He hated Logan, he hated Scarlett, and he hated anyone who made me cry. He took off his suit jacket and draped it over my shoulders. It was big enough to wrap around my entire body. “Come on. I’m taking you home.” I had just miscarried back then too. It was Logan’s baby. On the day I found out he was cheating, I fell down the stairs. The baby was gone. While Logan and Scarlett were making out in front of the hospital, I was signing the surgery consent form alone in my hospital bed. No one came to pick me up when I was discharged. I sat on the hospital steps alone, scrolling through my contacts, not knowing who to call. Finally, I dialed Ethan. He was my senior in college, but we rarely spoke after graduation. The phone rang for a long time before he picked up. “Ethan.” “Can you… can you come pick me up?” He didn’t hesitate. “Where are you?” Twenty minutes later, his car pulled up. When I got in, he looked at me and said, “From now on, if anything happens, call me first.” After that, he pursued me for a year. He drove me to work every day. He took me to different restaurants every weekend. When I worked late, he would park his car downstairs and wait. “As soon as you walk out, you’ll see my headlights,” he said. “You’ll never feel alone.” “I will be your most loyal partner. I will never let you suffer.” During that time, he was there every single second. He would call me to soothe my insomnia. When Logan and Scarlett posted photos of their happily-ever-after on Instagram, Ethan took my phone and blocked them both. “Don’t look at garbage. It hurts your eyes.” So when he knelt on one knee and slid the ring onto my finger, I didn’t hesitate. I thought, maybe God didn’t entirely abandon me. Only now did I realize that our five-year marriage was a complete joke.

On the day Scarlett was discharged, Ethan came home. He sat across from me, silent for a long time before finally speaking. “Why did you push her?” “Did you do it on purpose?” He stood up, walked over, and looked down at me. “Nora, you owe me a child. You have to pay me back.” I looked at him, a dull ache spreading through my chest. “Is this the explanation you promised me?” “Fine. How do you want me to pay you back?” He reached out, gently stroking my hair. “You still have your bone marrow.” “Save Scarlett first. Once you recover…” “You can have my baby.” Whenever I was sad, he would stroke my hair like this. Now, as he did the exact same gesture, a wave of intense nausea washed over me. “Ethan, Scarlett ruined my life!” He cut me off. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love her.” He paused, a faint smile actually appearing on his lips. “Do you think it was a coincidence that I showed up to rescue you five years ago?” I froze. “It wasn’t a coincidence.” “I’ve always loved Scarlett. Since college.” “But she only had eyes for Logan.” He knelt down, leveling his gaze with mine. “Do you know how long I waited?” “I waited until she was with Logan. I waited until they wrecked your marriage. I waited until she finally came to me.” “Every single day of our five years together, I was thinking of her.” He paused, as if reminiscing about something beautiful. “You thought I was saving you.” “I was just biding my time.” I bit my lip so hard it bled, but my tears kept falling. He stood up. “I’ve already arranged the bone marrow transplant with the hospital.” He walked to the door to change his shoes. “By the way.” “Don’t think about running. And don’t think about suing me.” “You know what I’m capable of.” Sitting in the darkness, I finally dialed a number. “Robert.” “Draft a divorce agreement for me.” The next day, Ethan took me to the hospital. He made me check in early for pre-op testing. He packed my hospital bag with practiced ease. But he said he wouldn’t stay with me because he had to look after Scarlett. “She’s terrified of pain. She needs someone by her side before her procedure.” My phone buzzed. A message from Scarlett. [Nora, thank you for donating your marrow to me.] [I’ll take good care of Ethan for you.] [Consider it my way of paying you back.] [To be honest, I don’t really envy you anymore. After all, everything you ever owned now belongs to me.] [Oh, I saw your surgical slip the other day. You’re pregnant, aren’t you? What a pity. You won’t be able to keep this baby.] I deleted the message. The next day, right after the bone marrow donation, I went straight to the operating room for my abortion. By the time the nurses found me, I was hemorrhaging. Emergency resuscitation. Blood transfusions. The rapid, frantic beeping of the heart monitor filled the room. Ethan was waiting outside Scarlett’s transplant room when his phone rang. It was a nurse. She told him his wife was in critical condition from a massive hemorrhage. But he just hung up, assuming it was nothing serious. When Scarlett was wheeled out of the operating room, Ethan held her hand. She was pale, her lips dry. He leaned down to kiss the back of her hand. “It’s over.” “We can finally be together.” Scarlett offered a weak smile. “Where’s Nora?” Ethan glanced at his phone. Suddenly, he stood up. “I need to make a call.” He walked to the end of the hallway and dialed the hospital’s internal line. “My wife…” “Mr. Carter,” the nurse’s voice was frantic. “Your wife is in the ICU. She’s not out of danger yet.” “She went straight to get an abortion right after donating her marrow! She is in extreme danger right now!”

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