Author: Momo Chan

Scrolling through Instagram before bed, I saw a viral post on my feed: “How did you get revenge on that toxic female boss at your office?” The top anonymous answer was incredibly arrogant: [I stole her fiancé! Who told her to be such a bitter, micromanaging bitch at work every day?] [I just pretended to pass out from low blood sugar right in front of his car when he came to pick her up from work. He completely fell for me right then and there.] [Later, I resigned, telling everyone I was moving back to my hometown in the Midwest to get married. In reality, I’m currently living in the luxury penthouse he bought me in New York, trying for a baby.] [She’s still sending out digital invitations in our group chat for their wedding next month. Lmao, she has no idea that I have his primary bank card.] [Love doesn’t care who got there first. The one who isn’t loved is the real interloper.] At the bottom of the post was a photo of a man’s back as he cooked in a kitchen. But the tiny, mended sunflower embroidery on the hem of his jacket caught my eye instantly. That was Carter, my fiancé of seven years. The man I was supposed to sign our marriage papers with next month.

I stared blankly at the slightly crooked sunflower embroidery on the screen. In that single second, it felt like all the blood in my body was rushing backward. My fingertips went completely numb. I embroidered that sunflower myself. It was an anniversary gift I bought him last year. Somehow, he got a small tear in it. I told him I’d just buy him a new one, but he insisted this one was too sentimental. He begged me to mend it for him. Back then, looking at the flower I sewed on, his eyes were full of happiness. He hugged me tightly and said, “Now the whole world knows I have the most caring wife.” But now, wearing that very jacket—the one he claimed meant the world to him—he was standing in another woman’s kitchen. Cooking for her. I forced myself to look away from that burning sunflower and re-read the anonymous post. [Pretended to pass out in front of his car.] [Resigned to go back to her hometown to get married.] [Still sending out digital invitations in the group chat.] These shattered pieces of information quickly formed a face in my mind—Amber. I clicked on the anonymous poster’s profile. Although her main page was set to private, I could still see her recently liked posts. They were all baby strollers, maternity clothes, and reviews of a luxury high-rise building in downtown Manhattan. Amber. Carter. Wow. You two are truly something else. The next morning, sitting in my private office, I pulled up Amber’s HR file from before she resigned. Looking at the girl smiling so innocently in her ID photo, the corner of my mouth twitched. When Amber interviewed, she seemed extremely sharp. The CEO was thrilled and specifically asked me, the top sales director, to mentor her personally. But after she joined, while she was great at sweet-talking clients, her actual deliverables were an absolute joke. She used AI to generate her proposals, forcing the entire team to pull all-nighters to fix her mess. Once, she almost cost the company a million-dollar deal because she didn’t bother to double-check the contract clauses. Yet, because she was incredibly skilled at playing the victim and kissing up to the executives, she never got punished. Instead, my entire sales team had to take the fall for her mistakes. I used to think she had potential, just lacked discipline. So, I was very strict with her. I wanted to curb her vanity and greed, hoping she would ground herself and eventually build a real career in this cutthroat industry. I even shared my years of compiled client resources, pitch decks, and industry secrets with her without holding anything back. I wanted her to take fewer detours and stand on her own two feet. As it turned out, she hadn’t changed at all. She just channeled all her resentment into a twisted plot against me. When a person’s mind is rotten, you can’t straighten it. Everything I invested in her was a complete waste of time. To her, Carter wasn’t just a tool to get back at me; he was her shortcut to an easy life. I closed my eyes, and a rainy day from six months ago flashed in my mind. That day, Carter drove to the office to pick me up. Amber happened to be walking down the stairs right behind me. Just as Carter’s car pulled up to the curb, Amber’s body suddenly went limp, and she collapsed right in front of his hood. Carter was terrified. He jumped out of the car immediately to check on her. Amber leaned weakly against Carter’s arm, her pale little face looking up. “I’m so sorry, Stella… I stayed up all night to finish that report you wanted. I skipped lunch and my blood sugar crashed…” My mind was completely on work back then. Seeing her looking so pitiful, I told Carter to drive her to the ER while I took an Uber home. Now that I think about it, that wasn’t low blood sugar. That was a meticulously calculated trap! And from that day on, Carter began asking about Amber constantly, saying things like, “It’s not easy for a young girl to make it in the city alone.” I thought he was just being compassionate. As it turns out, a man’s compassion is just a free pass for him to cheat.

I let out a cold laugh, opened my laptop, and logged into my joint account with Carter. This was the account we set up to save for our future house. I put in $2,000 every month, and Carter was supposed to put in $1,500. The balance was completely intact. But in her post, Amber clearly wrote: [I have his primary bank card.] Then it hit me. Besides his base salary, Carter received a massive quarterly bonus and commission check. Six months ago, he came home looking miserable, telling me his company was struggling and all bonuses were delayed or canceled. To ease his financial stress, I paid for almost all our dates, the new furniture, and the wedding venue deposits over the past six months. I picked up my phone and texted a contact who worked in finance at Carter’s company. Ten minutes later, she replied: [Stella, Carter’s department has been absolutely crushing it these past two quarters. Not only were their bonuses not cut, but his payout doubled last month. It was deposited directly into his personal account ending in 8892.] Reading the text, I laughed out of pure anger. Using my money to pay for our wedding, while using his own bonuses to buy a luxury penthouse for his pregnant mistress? Carter, you really are a piece of work. In the afternoon, I requested a half-day off from the boss. Based on the luxury building reviews Amber liked and the corner of the river view she occasionally showed off on her private Instagram, it took me less than two hours to pinpoint her exact location—Waterfront Place, one of the most expensive luxury complexes in the city. I parked my car in a shaded spot across the street, put on my sunglasses, and quietly watched the building’s driveway. I didn’t call Carter to confront him, nor did I start a screaming match on Snapchat. Before securing the evidence that could destroy them completely, throwing a tantrum is just a rookie mistake that tips them off. At 4:30 PM. A familiar black Audi slowly rolled out of the parking garage. It was Carter’s car. I knew the license plate by heart. I immediately started my engine and trailed him from a safe distance. The Audi made a few turns and finally pulled into the underground garage of a high-end private maternity hospital downtown. I sat in my car, watching Carter step out of the driver’s seat. He was wearing a high-quality designer blazer today, his hair styled to perfection. He walked briskly to the passenger side, gently pulled the door open, and even placed his hand over the roof to shield her head. Then, a foot in a flat designer shoe stepped out. Amber. She was wearing a loose maternity dress under a knit cardigan. Her once-slender waist now had a very prominent bump. Looking at the size, she was at least four months pregnant. Carter immediately wrapped his arm around her waist. Amber leaned naturally into his chest, looking up at him with a sweet, sugary smile. Carter bent down and planted an incredibly tender kiss on her forehead. Watching this scene, I felt my heart tighten as if gripped by an invisible fist. Every breath I took tasted like iron. Four months. Four months ago, Carter was down on one knee proposing to me, exchanging engagement rings in front of all our family and friends. During the day, he knelt before me and promised, “Stella, I will protect you with my life.” At night, he climbed into Amber’s bed, planting the seeds of their so-called “true love.” I raised my phone, adjusted the zoom, and perfectly recorded the footage of them hugging, kissing, and her very visible baby bump. Memories of our past conversations flooded my mind. I was highly career-oriented and in a crucial period for a promotion. I had clearly stated that I wouldn’t consider having kids for at least five years. Carter had held my hand back then, his eyes full of understanding: “Stella, I love you for who you are, not to turn you into a baby machine. Go chase your career. I’ll be your strongest supporter.” It wasn’t understanding. It was just that the traditional, submissive wife-and-child fantasy he actually wanted was already being fulfilled by Amber. He wanted me, the glamorous, high-earning sales director fiancée, to boost his social status and split his financial burdens. At the same time, he wanted Amber—a girl who worshipped him, depended on him, and was willing to get pregnant—to feed his fragile male ego. I watched them walk cold-faced into the elevator lobby. I pushed my car door open and followed them.

The VIP waiting area of the private hospital was quiet and luxurious. Wearing a face mask and a designer bucket hat, I sat on a sofa a few yards behind them, using a luxury parenting magazine as cover. “Carter, the baby kicked me again today.” Amber leaned against Carter’s shoulder, pulling his hand onto her belly. Her voice was pure honey. “Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?” Carter’s eyes were filled with the soft glow of a doting father. “I’ll love whatever it is. As long as you’re the one giving birth, it’s my treasure.” “But… what about Stella?” Amber suddenly sighed, her tone dripping with mock guilt and sadness. “Your wedding is next month. The invitations are already out in the office group chat. It hurts so much to see it. Carter, maybe I should just leave. I don’t want to be the home-wrecking mistress…” As she spoke, her eyes welled up with tears on cue. “Don’t talk like that!” Carter immediately pulled her into a tight, protective hug. He lowered his voice, but a hint of irritation slipped through: “Stella and I have been together for seven years. The spark died a long time ago. All she cares about are KPIs and promotions. She’s as aggressive as a man. Being with her suffocates me every single day.” “Amber, only when I’m with you do I feel like a real man who is needed.” Carter stroked Amber’s hair, making a grand promise: “Don’t worry. You’re carrying my family’s first grandchild. My mother has been complaining about Stella refusing to have kids for years anyway. I’ll find a time to break up with her in the next few days. The wedding is off. That penthouse is my gift to you, and all my paychecks will go to you from now on.” “Really? Carter, you’re the best!” Amber smiled through her tears and planted a loud kiss on Carter’s cheek. Sitting behind them, listening to this jaw-dropping confession of “true love,” I almost laughed out loud. Years ago, when his startup failed and he was $500,000 in debt, I was the one who ate expired bread with him for a year. I was the one who drank with clients day and night until I got a stomach ulcer just to help him clear his debt. Why didn’t he complain that I was “too aggressive” back then? Now that he’s successful, he looks down on me for being “too masculine”? I set the magazine down, stood up, and walked toward them. The sharp click of my designer heels echoed loudly in the quiet waiting area. Carter was busy peeling an orange for Amber. Hearing the footsteps, he subconsciously looked up. The moment he realized who was standing in front of him, the orange in his hand slipped, hitting the floor and rolling far away. “St… Stella?”

Amber followed his gaze. The second her eyes met mine, she flinched in terror, wrapping both hands tightly around her stomach as if she had just seen a ghost. I looked down at the pathetic couple. I didn’t scream like a hysterical housewife, nor did I throw a tantrum. I simply pulled off my face mask slowly, letting a cold, mocking smile spread across my face. “What a coincidence, Carter.” My eyes swept over Amber’s swollen stomach, my voice deadly calm. “Taking my former intern for her prenatal checkup? Tell me, should we reserve the VIP table for her baby at our wedding next month?” The waiting area fell into a tomb-like silence. Carter bolted upright so fast he knocked his chair backward. He instinctively reached out to grab my hand, but froze mid-air when he saw the icy glare in my eyes. “Stella… let me explain. It’s not what you think…” Carter’s voice was dry, as if he had swallowed a handful of sand. His handsome, usually confident face was now pale with sheer panic. “Not what I think? Then what is it?” I chuckled softly, my gaze slowly drifting over his old jacket with the sunflower embroidery. “Is it her passing out in front of your car and magically landing in your bed? Or is it you wearing the jacket I mended while cooking her organic meals in your luxury penthouse?” Hearing this, Carter’s face turned completely white. He stared at me in disbelief. He clearly didn’t expect me to know about the penthouse. Seeing this, Amber’s eyes watered instantly. She stood up, holding her lower back. She looked at me with a fragile, weeping expression. “Stella, please don’t blame Carter. It’s all my fault. I couldn’t help falling in love with him. I know I don’t deserve him. I’ll leave right now. I promise I won’t get in the way of your wedding…” As she spoke, she took a delicate step forward, feigning dizziness, and fell perfectly into Carter’s arms. “Amber! Watch the baby!” Carter caught her instinctively, then looked up at me with a flash of anger. “Stella! If you have a problem, take it out on me! Amber is pregnant, stop attacking her with your passive-aggressive remarks!” Looking at the tragic star-crossed lovers before me, I felt nothing but pure disgust. “Take it out on you? You think you’re worth my time?” I took a step back, as if avoiding some filthy disease, and looked coldly at Amber. “Your anonymous Reddit post was beautifully written. ‘The one who isn’t loved is the real interloper,’ right?” Amber’s face instantly froze. She forgot to fake-cry, her eyes widening in pure horror. “Since you’re so brave in chasing your true love, I’ll happily make it happen for you.” I pulled a piece of paper from my Chanel bag—a printout of our joint bank account statements I had printed in the car—and slapped it directly across Carter’s face. The sharp edge of the paper grazed his cheek before fluttering to the floor. “Carter, consider these seven years a very expensive lesson for me. It’s like I threw my money to a stray dog.” I stared at him, pronouncing every word with deadly precision. “The wedding is off. My lawyer will contact you tomorrow morning at nine. Every single dollar that belongs to me, you will return. And the debt you owe me, you will pay back with interest. I will strip you clean.” Without waiting for Carter’s desperate cries behind me, or looking at Amber’s horrified, pale face, I turned around. With my spine perfectly straight, I walked out of the hospital on my high heels, never looking back.

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The bulldozer crushed the sign above the boxing gym before I had even finished unwrapping the white hand wraps from my fists. Dust filled the air, burning my eyes as the last thing my father had left me was reduced to rubble. Julian Vance stood beneath a black umbrella beside his Maybach, his tailored suit immaculate. “Keep tearing it down,” he said. “Sienna wants to build a ballet studio here. This dump of a boxing gym doesn’t suit her.” I rushed toward him, only to be stopped by his bodyguards. “You promised me before we got married—” “It was nothing more than a business marriage,” he cut in, his voice as cold as ice. “Did you really think you were my wife?” I collapsed onto the muddy ground. In my previous life, he had died in the cage trying to save me. Blood had poured from his mouth as he begged with his dying breath, “Valerie… if there’s another life, please look back at me.” But in this life, he forced me to serve as his mistress’s bodyguard. He made me kneel in the rain, picking up the championship boxing gloves she had tossed onto the ground. “Julian Vance…” I stared at his retreating figure, my voice trembling. “Were you… reborn too?” He turned around, looking at me as though I had lost my mind. “Reborn? What the hell are you talking about? Did boxing scramble your brain?” I slowly closed my eyes. Blood seeped from where my fingernails had dug into my palms. He hadn’t been reborn. He simply… didn’t love me anymore.

Valerie POV The deafening roar of the bulldozers shook the ground. Dust billowed into the air, blotting out half the sky and making my throat burn with every breath. My hands were still wrapped in white boxing tape. I stared, heartbroken, at the shattered sign lying in the dirt. Titan Muay Thai Gym. This place was my father’s final legacy. It was where I grew up. Every wooden plank, every heavy sandbag, was soaked with my sweat and tears from countless days and nights. And now, it was being ruthlessly torn to pieces. Julian Vance stood by his black Maybach, holding a long-handled black umbrella. He looked tall, sharp, and cold in his bespoke black suit. It was as if the building collapsing before him wasn’t his wife’s entire life, but just a pile of worthless garbage. “Keep digging,” Julian’s voice was completely devoid of warmth, cutting through the mechanical roar straight into my ears. “I want this lot completely cleared before sunset.” “Julian!” I screamed, lunging forward with bloodshot eyes. Two burly security guards in black suits instantly blocked me, pinning me down. “Are you insane?! This is my father’s gym! You promised me before we married that you would protect it forever!” Julian tilted his head slightly. His deep, cold eyes swept over my trembling, tear-streaked face. A mocking sneer touched his lips. “Sienna likes this location. She wants to build a private ballet studio here. A sweaty, violent gym is an eyesore. It doesn’t suit her elegance.” The words hit me like a physical blow. The blood drained from my face, and my hands went completely numb. Sienna Pierce. The mistress he kept hidden away. The woman who pretended to be too weak to open a water bottle, yet could effortlessly steal everything I owned. “Just for her?” My voice cracked, shaking violently. I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms, drawing blood. “Julian, we are married! You’re destroying my father’s legacy for some girl on the side?” “This is just a marriage of convenience,” Julian interrupted, his tone dripping with impatience. “Did you actually start believing you’re my real wife? Why would I let your father’s junk get in the way of making the woman I love happy?” I collapsed onto the muddy ground. I stared at the man who used to hold me whenever I frowned. Now, my tears finally fell. “Julian, you used to love me so much. Why? Why did you stop?” Julian paused for a fraction of a second. He didn’t turn around, only letting out a cold laugh. “When did I ever love you?” Never loved me? How is that possible? In my past life, I was blind. I ignored Julian’s deep love and fell for Luke Sterling, a guy I grew up with. I resisted my marriage to Julian, treated him with cold silence, and even threw fights on purpose just to humiliate him. In the end, I fell for Luke’s lies and ran away with him. But Luke never loved me. He used me to destroy Julian. He dragged me to Mexico, throwing me into a underground death-match cage, using my life to force Julian to show up. That day, Julian, a man so proud he couldn’t stand a single wrinkle on his suit, walked into that bloody cage just to save my life. He didn’t even fight back. He let those ruthless killers break his bones and tear him apart. Before he died, with a mouth full of blood, he kissed my hand through the iron mesh. His eyes were filled with desperate love. “Valerie… in the next life… will you please look at me?” Then, I woke up. I had reborn. I came back to the first year of our marriage. I was ecstatic. I blocked Luke on everything, quit the dangerous underground fight circuits, and tried my best to be a good housewife. My entire world revolved around Julian. I swore to give him all the love I owed him. But he had changed. He stopped coming home. He was cold, cruel, and openly paraded Sienna around town. Now, he was tearing down my gym for her. Staring at the ruins of my gym, a wild, terrifying thought suddenly crossed my mind. “Julian,” I stared intensely at his back, my voice trembling. “Did you regress too?” Julian’s shoulders stiffened for a split second. He turned around, looking at me like I was a lunatic. “Regress? Valerie, did you take too many hits to the head in the ring?” His mask was perfect. Not a single eyelash flickered. I let out a bitter laugh and closed my eyes. Right. If he had kept the memories of his past life, how could he ever treat me like this? The truth was simple. He just didn’t love me anymore. Fine. If he wanted to let go, so would I.

Valerie POV I don’t even remember how I walked back to the penthouse. When I pushed the door open, the massive living room was empty and freezing cold. I didn’t bother changing my muddy clothes. I went straight up to the master bedroom on the second floor, pulled my suitcase out of the closet, and started packing. Honestly, there wasn’t much to take. Over the past year, I had bought expensive dresses and jewelry just to please him. I left all of them behind. I only packed a few of my usual athletic sets and my training gear. Once I finished, I sat at the desk, pulled out a blank sheet of paper, and slowly wrote out a divorce agreement. I wanted nothing. I would walk away with zero assets. I only wanted my freedom. The scratch of the pen on the paper sounded incredibly loud in the silent room, echoing the sound of my heart ripping apart. Suddenly, a high-pitched, giggling voice came from the hallway. Julian walked in, his arm wrapped around Sienna. She was wearing a pristine white dress, looking like a fragile doll. The moment she saw me standing by the stairs, she flinched like a scared rabbit, burying herself in Julian’s chest. “Julian, Valerie’s hands are covered in scars, and she’s glaring at me. Is she going to hit me? I’m so scared.” Sienna whimpered, clutching his sleeve. Julian immediately shielded her behind him, glaring up at me with a deep frown. “What are you doing up here? Starting today, you move to the maid’s quarters on the first floor. Stay out of Sienna’s sight. You’re scaring her.” My knuckles turned white as I gripped the banister. The actual Mrs. Vance, kicked out of her own room and sent to live in the maid’s quarters. How pathetic. I didn’t scream or fight like I used to. I simply walked downstairs and handed him the paper. “Sign it.” Julian glanced at the title, Divorce Agreement. A flash of dark anger crossed his eyes, but he quickly covered it with a sneer. “Playing hard to get? Valerie, do you think this pathetic stunt will get my attention? Fine. You want it, you got it.” Without even reading the terms, he grabbed the pen and violently scribbled his signature. Sienna stared at the paper, a look of pure triumph flashing in her eyes. She scanned the living room, and her gaze landed on the glass display case by the wall. Inside was my national championship belt and my red boxing gloves from when I won the tournament at eighteen. “Julian, those gloves look so old and dirty,” Sienna complained, holding her nose with a look of disgust. “They probably smell like sweat. It completely ruins the vibe of this beautiful room.” Julian didn’t even blink. He casually looked at the maid. “Throw them out.” “Julian!” I gasped, staring at him in disbelief. “Those are my championship gloves! They were an eighteen birthday gift from my dad!” “Throw them out,” he repeated, his voice cold and cutting. The maid didn’t dare argue. She quickly opened the case, grabbed the gloves that held all my youth and glory, and threw them out the front door into the pouring rain. “No!” I lost my mind. I sprinted out into the storm, desperate, clawing through the mud on the lawn. The freezing rain drenched me to the bone. In our past life, I had tossed these gloves into a dusty corner. But Julian had picked them up, custom-ordered a temperature-controlled glass case for them, and wiped them down himself every single day. He had told me, “My Valerie is a queen. I will guard your glory forever.” But now, he was the one throwing my glory into the trash. I finally found the mud-soaked gloves, hugging them tightly against my chest as I sobbed on my knees in the rain. Inside the warm house, through the massive glass windows, Julian was gently drying Sienna’s hair with a towel. He didn’t give me a single glance.

Valerie POV After standing in the rain all night, I woke up with a fever of a hundred and four degrees. The next morning, dragging my heavy body, I went to the hospital alone. As I sat on the plastic chairs in the hallway waiting for my name to be called, I saw Julian coming from the other end, gently carrying Sienna in his arms. Sienna clung to him with tears in her eyes, looking incredibly pitiful. All because she had a tiny blister on her heel from wearing new heels. Julian looked up and caught sight of me. When he saw my deathly pale face, his brows knitted into a tight knot. “Are you stalking us now? Valerie, can you get any more pathetic?” My head was spinning from the fever, and I didn’t even have the energy to argue. I just gave him a dead, cold look and walked into the doctor’s office. The doctor looked at my MRI scan and sighed heavily. “Valerie, the old injury in your left shoulder has worsened severely due to the cold and stress. If you don’t rest immediately, you won’t just lose the ability to fight. You will struggle to even lift groceries. Your career in the ring is over.” I nodded numbly. I didn’t care anymore. I had already lost my ring. The moment I stepped out of the office, Julian blocked my path. He glanced at the prescription in my hand, his eyes flickering for a second, but his face quickly turned cold again. “Since you have so much free time to follow me to the hospital, do something useful,” he commanded. “Sienna is attending a high-end jewelry gala tonight. You’re going to be her personal bodyguard.” I let out a dry, raspy laugh. “Julian, I am legally your wife, and you want me to be a bodyguard for your mistress? What do you take me for?” “You want to say no?” Julian took a step forward, his tall frame towering over me with immense pressure. His voice was laced with ice. “Your old coach is on life support in the ICU. It costs three thousand dollars a day. What do you think happens if I stop paying his medical bills today? Will he survive the night?” My heart stopped. I stared at him, horrified. My coach had ended up in a vegetative state after a car accident while trying to save me. In our past life, Julian had treated my coach like his own father, flying in the best neurosurgeons from around the world to treat him. “You’re using my coach’s life to black-mail me?” My voice shook violently. “Are you doing the job or not?” Julian’s eyes were completely emotionless. I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. Finally, I closed my eyes and forced out a single word. “Yes.” The gala was incredibly lavish. I wore a cheap black suit, standing behind Sienna like an invisible shadow, my face expressionless. The whispers from the crowd cut through the air like knives: “Isn’t that Julian Vance’s wife? Why is she acting like a bodyguard for his mistress?” “I heard Julian doesn’t care about her at all. She’s just a classless street fighter anyway. She doesn’t have Sienna’s elegance.” Julian bid ten million dollars without even blinking to win a pink diamond necklace called “The Heart of the Ocean” for Sienna. Sienna wore it like a proud peacock, parading through the crowd to show off. Suddenly, chaos erupted! A crazed hater surged from the crowd, holding a bottle of clear liquid, his face twisted in rage as he lunged straight at Sienna! “Go to hell, you homewrecker!” “Ahhh!” Sienna screamed, her face pale with terror. My fighter instincts kicked in faster than my brain. I bolted forward, executing a flawless, powerful front kick that sent the man flying back. The bottle smashed onto the marble floor, hissing and bubbling. It was highly concentrated acid! The danger was averted, and the room gasped in shock. But as Sienna fell backward, she purposely tripped herself, landing on a piece of broken glass. A tiny cut appeared on her palm. “It hurts. Julian, it hurts so much.” she sobbed hysterically. Julian pushed through the crowd like a madman, shoving me out of the way so hard I hit the wall. He gathered Sienna in his arms. Once he saw she only had a scratch, he whipped his head around to glare at me, his eyes filled with pure rage. “Did you do that on purpose?!” I froze, staring at him in shock. “I just saved her life.” “You could have stopped him sooner! You were jealous of her, so you hesitated on purpose to let her get hurt!” Julian hissed, pointing at the shattered glass on the floor. His voice was cold as death. “Apologize to Sienna. Now.” The entire room went dead silent. Everyone watched us, waiting for the drama. Forcing a proud national champion to publicly apologize to a mistress? This was worse than killing me. I stood tall, my eyes red, stubbornly staring back at him. “I did nothing wrong.” “No apology?” Julian sneered, pulling out his phone. “Fine. I’ll call the hospital to pull the plug on your coach right now.” “No!” I broke. Under the mocking, disgusted stares of New York’s elite, I slowly bent my spine, the spine that had never bent for anyone in the ring. I bowed deeply to Sienna. “I’m sorry.” In that moment, I felt my dignity shatter into dust, never to be pieced back together.

Valerie POV Back at the penthouse, Sienna was still crying in Julian’s arms. “Julian, every time I close my eyes, I see that psycho with the acid… I’m so scared. I won’t be able to sleep tonight,” she whimpered, clutching his shirt. But over his shoulder, I saw the wicked, triumphant smirk on her face. Julian kissed her forehead gently, his voice incredibly soft. “Don’t worry, baby. I’m here. No one will ever hurt you.” Sienna peeked at me as I stood soaking wet by the door. “But… I still feel unsafe. Can Valerie guard my door tonight? She’s a champion. If she’s standing guard outside, I’ll feel safe enough to sleep.” Without a second thought, Julian turned to me, his eyes icy. “You heard her. Go stand guard outside her door.” My left shoulder felt like it was being pierced by a thousand needles. The fever made my vision blur, and cold sweat drenched my suit jacket. “Julian, I have a high fever, and my shoulder injury is flaring up. The doctor said I can’t stand for long…” I pleaded, clinging to one last shred of hope. “Stop acting,” Julian snapped, disgust written all over his face. “Standing for one night won’t kill you. If Sienna doesn’t sleep well tonight, you will pay for it.” The door slammed shut in my face, locking me out in the cold hallway. I slid down against the freezing wall. Listening to Julian’s soft, comforting voice inside the room, my tears fell silently. In our past life, I had sprained my ankle during a match. Julian’s eyes had gone red with worry. He had canceled a billion-dollar merger meeting, stayed awake for three days and nights, and read medical books just to learn how to massage my ankle. He had told me, “Valerie, when you hurt, my heart bleeds. You are never allowed to get hurt again, okay?” But now, he made me stand outside like a dog, guarding his mistress with a broken shoulder. I stood there the entire night. My legs went completely numb, and the agony in my shoulder almost made me pass out several times, but I bit my lip and forced myself to endure. At dawn, the door finally opened. Julian walked out. Seeing me collapsed on the floor, pale as a ghost and barely breathing, he spoke with absolute indifference. “Get up and stop acting pathetic. Go make breakfast.” He stepped right over my body and walked downstairs without looking back. A video of me apologizing to Sienna had been maliciously edited and leaked onto Instagram and TikTok, instantly trending. I only found out later that my gym friend, Felix, had seen the video. His temper flared, and he drove straight to the Vance Group’s underground parking garage, cornering Julian as he got out of his car. “Julian, you absolute piece of garbage! Valerie is a champion! How dare you humiliate her like that!” Felix threw a brutal punch, cracking Julian right across the jaw and drawing blood. But Felix was outnumbered. Within seconds, a dozen trained security guards pinned him to the concrete floor. Julian wiped the blood from his mouth, a dark, murderous look in his eyes. “Call the police. Press charges for assault. I want him to rot in prison. He will never fight in a ring again.” When I got the news, I didn’t even put on shoes. I ran like crazy to the Vance Group headquarters and burst into Julian’s office. Staring at the powerful man sitting on his leather sofa, I bowed my head. My voice was filled with desperate pleading. “Julian, it was all my fault. Felix is only twenty. He has a shot at the world championships. Please, drop the charges.” Julian spun his wedding ring around his finger, looking at me with a cruel smirk. “Drop them? Sure. But Sienna was terrified by his violence. You need to show some sincerity to make it up to her.” “What do you want?” “Do a live stream and announce your permanent retirement from fighting,” Julian said, his eyes locking onto mine with absolute malice. “And then, in front of everyone on camera, cut your championship belt into pieces.” I whipped my head up, staring at him in sheer disbelief. The championship belt was the honor I had fought for with my life. It was my father’s proudest achievement before he died! He wanted to completely crush my soul! “Julian, just kill me instead…” I shook violently, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t want to? Fine. Then go visit Felix in prison.” Ten minutes later, I started the live stream. In front of hundreds of thousands of shocked fans, my face completely blank with despair, I picked up the heavy shears. Snip. Snip. The golden belt fell apart in pieces, and along with it, the last spark of life inside me died.

Valerie POV The divorce was set to be finalized in three days. I had already booked one-way tickets to Costa Rica. I was going to take my coach and Felix with me, leaving this toxic city forever. Before leaving, Julian’s grandfather, Arthur Vance, who had always loved me, called. He asked me to come to the family estate to say goodbye. Arthur was the only Vance who had ever been kind to me, so I couldn’t say no. But I didn’t expect Sienna to secretly follow me there. While I was in the kitchen brewing tea for Arthur, a sudden shriek echoed from the grand staircase. “Ahhh!” I ran out, only to see Arthur tumbling down the stairs, his head bleeding as he fell unconscious on the marble floor. Sienna was sitting on the steps above, crying hysterically and shaking like a leaf. Julian rushed into the foyer. Seeing his grandfather bleeding on the floor, he screamed, “Grandpa!” Sienna immediately threw herself into his arms, pointing at me while sobbing. “Julian! Valerie was angry because Grandpa praised me. She used her Muay Thai roundhouse kick to shove him down the stairs! I tried to stop her, but I couldn’t…” “I didn’t do it!” I gasped, shocked. “She pushed him! I didn’t even touch him!” “Shut up!” Julian’s eyes were bloodshot. He slammed his fist against the wall next to me, his knuckles split and bleeding. “Valerie, you can hate me all you want, but Grandpa was always good to you! How could you do this to an old man? You are a monster!” He grabbed my collar like I was a dead dog and dragged me down to the basement of the estate. My father’s ashes were temporarily stored there in a wooden urn. “A toxic woman like you deserves to be punished!” Julian grabbed a heavy metal hammer from a toolbox in the corner and marched toward my father’s urn. My pupils dilated. I threw myself at his feet, wrapping my arms around his legs. “Julian! No! Hit me, sue me, do whatever you want to me, but please don’t touch my dad’s urn! I beg you!” “Get off me!” Julian kicked me away, raised the hammer high, and brought it down hard! Smash! Wood splinters flew everywhere. The urn shattered, and the grey ashes spilled across the concrete floor. “Dad!” I let out a blood-curdling scream. The sheer shock and grief caused a wave of nausea, and I spat out a mouthful of blood before collapsing onto the shattered remains of my father’s urn, passing out completely. Because of a blind spot in the security cameras by the staircase, the police couldn’t find definitive proof that I had pushed Arthur. They had to release me after forty-eight hours. Arthur was now in a coma, kept alive only by machines. Julian was waiting outside the police station. Seeing my pale, exhausted state, a flicker of complicated emotion crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by cold hostility. He threw three plane tickets in my face. The destination was a dangerous, war-torn country in the Middle East. “Take your vegetable coach and your little friend Felix and get out of the country,” Julian said coldly, looking at me like I was already dead. “Don’t come back until you’ve learned how to be human.” I didn’t argue. I didn’t cry. I silently knelt down, picked up the tickets one by one, and wiped the dirt off them. “Okay,” I whispered, my voice as light as a breeze. Seeing how compliant I was, Julian turned and walked away. At the airport. Without a second thought, I tossed Julian’s three tickets into the trash can. I pulled out the tickets to Costa Rica that I had bought days ago. I handed the signed divorce papers to Felix and touched his head. “Let’s go. Let’s go home.” As the plane took off and soared into the sky, I looked at the thick clouds outside the window and closed my eyes. Julian, in this life, I have paid back everything I owed you. Goodbye forever.

Julian POV In the VIP room of St. Jude’s Hospital in New York. I was sitting by Sienna’s bedside, peeling an apple for her, when the TV on the wall suddenly broke into a breaking news broadcast: “We have breaking news. Flight MU789, bound for the Middle East from JFK, crashed into the Atlantic Ocean forty minutes after takeoff due to extreme weather. All 150 passengers and crew members on board are confirmed dead…” Drop. The apple slipped from my hand. The sharp knife sliced across my finger, and blood began to pour, but I didn’t feel a thing. Flight MU789… That was the exact flight I had booked for Valerie! “All confirmed dead…” I stared blankly at the cold numbers on the screen. My brain exploded, and the blood in my veins completely froze. Drip, drip… Blood dripped from my finger onto the white floor tiles, but I felt absolutely no pain. “All confirmed dead…” The words replayed in my mind like a rusty saw cutting through my skull. I stood up abruptly, but my legs gave out, and I fell hard to my knees. “No, it’s not possible!” I scrambled back to my feet like a lunatic. Ignoring my coat, I stumbled out of the room. Sienna gasped in shock, grabbing my sleeve. “Julian, where are you going? My hand is still hurting…” “Get off me!” I yelled with bloodshot eyes, shoving her away so hard she tumbled onto the floor. I didn’t even look back as I bolted toward the parking garage. I pushed my Maybach to its absolute limit on the highway, running dozens of red lights. The tires screeched violently as I slammed on the brakes in front of the airline’s headquarters. I stormed into the lobby, grabbing the manager by his collar. My voice was raspy, like sandpaper. “Give me the passenger manifest for Flight MU789! Now!” The manager trembled violently, pulling up the system. “M-Mr. Vance… Valerie Miller, her coach, and Felix… they are all on the list. They all boarded the plane…” Boom. The last string of sanity in my mind snapped. My hands lost all strength, and I stumbled back, my tall frame shaking violently. It was me. I was the one who bought those tickets. I was the one who threw them in her face. I was the one who forced her onto that death flight! “Julian, in this life, I have paid back everything I owed you.” Valerie’s calm, dead eyes before she left flashed in my mind. She hadn’t cried. She hadn’t fought back. Because she had already decided to die! “Valerie…” I clutched my chest. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, making it impossible to breathe. I bent over, letting out a desperate, guttural scream. “Ahhh!” That night, I deployed all of the Vance family’s private jets and rescue teams to search the crash site. For two solid weeks. I searched the debris-filled ocean like a madman, refusing to sleep. I watched as bloated, unrecognizable bodies were pulled from the water. Every time they pulled back a white sheet, my soul died a little more. But Valerie was never found. The rescue captain sighed, walking up to me. My eyes were sunken, and my face was covered in rough stubble. “Mr. Vance, let it go. With an explosion of that magnitude, most of them were… vaporized. There wouldn’t even be ashes left.” Vaporized. Not even ashes left. My body went rigid, and I collapsed onto the deck.

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After my daughter died, I finally became exactly what Alpha James Sterling wanted me to be. He kissed his human adoptive sister. I acted like I didn’t see a thing. He slept with her. I was even willing to buy them condoms. Everyone in the pack praised me for being mature and generous. James finally let his guard down around me. But I used that exact moment to escape, fleeing to the Forbidden Zone for five whole years. Five years later, I returned. James knelt in the freezing snow, begging for my forgiveness. I only gently wrapped my arm around the man beside me and smiled. “Alpha James, long time no see. Meet my true mate, Alpha King Zane.” Elena POV After my daughter died, I finally became exactly what James wanted me to be. He stayed out partying with his friends until midnight. I stopped asking when he would be back, and I stopped caring who he was with. When he got drunk and mumbled “Clara” in his sleep, I didn’t throw a tantrum anymore. Even when I was ambushed and severely injured outside, I dragged my bleeding body back to the packhouse alone, quiet as a ghost, and patched myself up. Gamma Frank looked at my wounds, his eyes filled with worry. “Luna Elena, should I call Alpha James?” James? I let out a soft laugh. It was self-deprecating, but mostly, it was the sweet taste of letting go. “No need,” I whispered. “We aren’t close.” Frank opened his mouth to protest, but eventually closed it. As my second-in-command, he knew exactly what had happened in this pack. He knew the hell I had been through. Once he left, the bedroom fell back into a suffocating silence. I closed my eyes. My daughter’s sweet, smiling face flashed across my mind. I could still hear her tiny voice calling me “Mommy.” But right after that came James’s cold, heartless face. “Elena, Anna needs the antidote. Only Clara has the cure. But she has one condition.” “She wants you to leave.” “Your departure in exchange for Anna’s life. It’s a fair trade, isn’t it?” Fair? What a joke! When had James ever been fair to me? Only after I married him did I find out that his heart belonged to Clara, the fragile, helpless human girl his parents had adopted. I had been naive enough to believe that since we were fated mates, my love would eventually be enough to win him over. But five years of marriage only brought me to a point where he forced me to choose between my daughter’s life and my marriage. If he hated me so much, why did he accept me in the first place? In the end, I agreed to leave. I gave up my title as Luna just so he would save our daughter. But he lied to me. At the very last minute, Clara smiled and claimed she actually didn’t have the cure. And James? He just patted my shoulder and said indifferently, “Clara is just a human. How could she get her hands on Wolfbane? We’ll find another way.” Another way? The poison in Anna’s tiny veins was spreading every second. There was no time. Two weeks ago, Anna took her last breath in my arms. At that exact moment, my heart died with her. “Luna, the Alpha is here,” Frank’s voice called gently from the door. I opened my eyes and, right on cue, James was standing at the doorway. He was still painfully handsome. His black wool coat made him look tall and imposing, but there was a dark, irritable shadow lingering between his eyes. The silver glow in his eyes faded as he walked over to my bed. He looked down at me, his tone laced with his usual accusation. “Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt? If the pack warriors hadn’t informed me, how long were you planning to hide this?” I stared back at him. I knew he was only here because his wolf demanded it. If this were the past, I would have been thrilled by his concern. But now, even my inner wolf remained dead silent. “Alpha James is a busy man. I didn’t want to bother you with such trivial matters.” I paused, adding coldly, “Besides, we are over. I won’t be your Luna for much longer.” I emphasized the title “Alpha James” to draw a clear line between us. I knew he hated this version of me. In his memory, I was always the girl who blushed at his slightest touch, who waited up all night with a warm plate of food, and who cried under the blanket whenever Clara made an intimate phone call to him. Back then, he found me annoying. He said I was too dramatic, too clingy to be a proper Luna. But now, I was exactly what he wanted. I didn’t care about his life, and I didn’t need him when I was sick. Yet, he looked furious. “I haven’t accepted your rejection yet! We are still mates! Even if we end things, I am still Anna’s father!” James growled, desperately trying to use our dead daughter to hold onto the last thread of our connection. At the mention of Anna, my body stiffened, but I quickly forced myself to calm down. “Anna doesn’t need a father anymore.” I lowered my gaze to hide the raw grief in my eyes. “James, the moment you chose Clara over Anna, you lost the right to be her father.” “You!” James’s face turned pale. He wanted to snap back, but no words came out. Just then, his phone buzzed. It was his custom ringtone for Clara. He instinctively glanced at me. I had already turned my face to the window, ignoring him completely. James answered the phone, his voice instantly softening. “Clara? What’s wrong?” Clara’s weak, sobbing voice echoed through the quiet room. “My chest hurts so much. James, I’m scared. Can you come over?” James frowned. “I’ll be right there.” He hung up, swallowed hard, and looked at me as if he wanted to explain. I spoke first. “Go. I have plenty of people to look after me.” He couldn’t say a word. The moment the door slammed shut, a single tear finally escaped my eye. It wasn’t for him. It was for the foolish girl who had loved him so blindly, and for the sweet little daughter who never got the chance to grow up. I reached under my pillow, pulled out my phone, and dialed a number. “Professor Charles, I accept the Royal Council’s assignment. I’ll go to the Forbidden Zone for the Wolfbane research project.”

Elena POV The Forbidden Zone. It was the only place in the world where werewolves dared not step. It was created ten years ago during a brutal war between two massive packs. One side had used a highly volatile, mutated strain of Wolfsbane. But they didn’t realize the poison was airborne. It infected everyone in the area. Most died instantly. The survivors went completely feral, turning into mindless rogues. The 18-year-old prince had personally led his royal guards to settle down the battle, forcing all packs to migrate. He then gathered the top healers and scholars in the country to establish a research base right on the border of the contaminated zone. On the phone, my former herbology professor from the Werewolf Academy spoke in a serious tone. “Elena, this project is funded directly by the Royal Family. It requires a five-year commitment. During this time, you will be under strict NDA. You cannot contact anyone from the outside world. It means cutting off your entire past, including your family. Are you absolutely sure about this?” I gripped my phone tightly. “I am absolutely sure.” “But you rejected this offer three times before just to stay by James’s side. Are you really ready to leave everything behind for five years?” Ready? What was left for me here? My heart was dead. “Professor, James and I are done. You don’t have to worry about him.” “What? You mean that bastard actually rejected you?” In the werewolf world, it was incredibly rare for fated mates to separate. Most wolves remained fiercely loyal to their mates, finding peace and happiness only in their other half. But James chose a human. My inner wolf let out a painful whimper, mourning the injustice of our fate. This was exactly why I had to leave. I couldn’t stay here and let my wolf suffer his humiliation day after day. “Don’t be angry, Professor. I am the one leaving him.” “Fine. I understand. Your departure is scheduled for the fifth of next month. I’ll email you the NDAs. Once you sign, there’s no turning back.” The call ended, and the email arrived seconds later. Without a shred of hesitation, I signed my name. As the screen went black, it reflected my pale, hollow face. James and I had met at our graduation ball. He was the young, powerful Alpha of the Ironridge Pack, and I was the top graduate of the Academy. The Moon Goddess had chosen me to be his fated mate. I still remembered how he walked up to me, pulling me into his arms and kissing me passionately, whispering, “Mine.” My wolf had howled with joy back then. We actually had a sweet honeymoon phase. But shortly after I got pregnant, I accidentally overheard a heated argument between James and his mother outside his study. “…Elena is your fated mate! She is brilliant and perfect for the Luna title!” “But I don’t love her, Mom! You know who has my heart!” “That’s exactly why I’m stepping in! You either treat Elena right, or I will send Clara to a place where you will never find her!” That was the day I realized James was hopelessly in love with Clara. Even though his wolf craved my scent, his heart belonged to her. And yet, I had foolishly stayed, believing that my love could change his mind. Now, reality had slapped me in the face and taken my daughter’s life. I didn’t wait for James to come home. I grabbed a large cardboard box and began packing up everything that no longer mattered to me. I carried the heavy box to the trash incinerator behind the packhouse and threw it in. Suddenly, a loud screech of brakes echoed through the yard. “What are you doing?” James demanded, slamming his car door shut and rushing toward me. He looked inside the incinerator and saw the items I had thrown away. Our first date souvenirs. The little gifts he brought me from his business trips. Our honeymoon photos. And even my diaries. “Elena, have you lost your mind?” James stared at me in disbelief. “You used to treasure these things. Why are you throwing them away?”

Elena POV “It’s nothing,” I said, not even looking at him. “These things used to be valuable to me, but now they are just trash. There’s no point in keeping trash.” I turned to walk back inside, but James quickly caught up and grabbed my wrist. “Elena!” he yelled at the staircase, pulling me back. “How long are you going to keep acting like this? I am grieving Anna too! I am her father! Do you think you’re the only one hurting?” “You’re hurting?” I repeated, looking at him as if he had just said the funniest joke in the world. “If you actually cared about Anna, you would have believed me instead of Clara! You missed the only window to save our daughter!” I still remembered the day I figured out the toxin in Anna’s body was a rare form of Wolfbane. I realized the only cure was the blood of the person who poisoned her. And I knew, without a doubt, it was Clara. But when I told James, he had scoffed. “Clara is a fragile human. She doesn’t even know what Wolfbane is! Your jealousy is making you delusional, Elena!” He refused to believe his precious Clara could do such a thing. “Elena, please, stop this,” James sighed, pulling me into a tight embrace, his voice softening. “We are still young. We can have another baby. We can…” “Don’t touch me! You disgust me, James!” His words triggered something violent inside me. I shoved him away with all my strength. Unprepared, James stumbled back, hitting his back against the wooden banister. He stared at me, shocked. I let out a cold laugh. “James, let me make this very clear. I, Elena Vance, formally reject you as my mate and my Alpha. If you don’t accept it, I will find another way to break this bond. You can have babies with whoever you want, but it will never be me.” My only child was Anna. And she was dead. Seeing the cold determination in my eyes, James panicked. “I only asked you to leave back then to trick Clara into giving up the antidote! I didn’t think she would actually lie about it…” He swallowed hard. “I will never accept your rejection. We are not breaking up.” Too late. What James didn’t know was that I had already submitted a petition to the Lycan Council. If he refused my rejection, I would ask the Alpha King himself to sever our bond. I ignored him, turned around, and locked myself in my bedroom. “Elena!” James tried to follow, but his phone rang again. He pulled it out and answered irritably. “Clara, what is it now?” “If your stomach hurts, go to the hospital! I am not a doctor!” I didn’t care what Clara said next. All I heard was the sound of James leaving the packhouse once again. This had happened too many times to count. Over the years, Clara had used every excuse, chest pain, panic attacks, fevers, to drag James away whenever Anna and I needed him. In the past, I would cry, scream, and smash things in the house. But now, my heart was a flatline. When you truly stop caring, the things that used to drive you crazy don’t even make you flinch.

Elena POV The next afternoon, James came home early. He told me he had booked my favorite French restaurant and hired the violinist I loved to play for us. “Go change your clothes. Let’s go out,” he said. “I’m not going,” I replied instantly. “Elena, you’ve been locking yourself in this room since the funeral. You’re going to make yourself sick,” he said, his eyes filled with genuine worry. “Just come out for some fresh air, okay?” How ironic. I had spent years begging for his attention, and now that my heart was completely dead, he was suddenly playing the caring husband. Before I could refuse again, he grabbed my hand and practically pulled me into his car. “It doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. It’s just the two of us anyway.” I tried to pull away, but his grip was too tight. But when we arrived at the restaurant and the hostess led us to our table, I froze. Sitting at the table, wearing a delicate white dress, was Clara. I turned to James and smiled mockingly. “So this is your idea of ‘fresh air’?” “She feels incredibly guilty about what happened to Anna,” James whispered, tightening his grip on my wrist. “When she heard I was taking you out, she begged me to let her come. She wants to apologize to you face-to-face.” Clara stood up, her eyes immediately welling with tears. “Elena, I am so, so sorry… I know nothing can bring Anna back, but I truly want to make it up to you…” “Shut up!” I snapped, slapping her hand away. “Apologize? Make it up to me? What kind of game are you playing now, Clara?” Clara’s tears fell instantly. “I know you’ve always hated me, and I know you blame me for Anna’s death… but losing Anna broke my heart too…” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. “Enough, Clara! If you’re actually sorry, go kneel at Anna’s grave! Don’t bring your pathetic acting in front of me!” Clara froze, then looked at James with a trembling lip. “James…” James frowned, looking at me as if I was being entirely unreasonable. “Elena, she came here in good faith. Can’t we just leave the past in the past? We are family.” “Who is her family?” I interrupted, my eyes cold as ice. “My only family was my daughter, and she is dead.” The air in the restaurant turned freezing cold. Without another word, James grabbed my shoulders and forced me into my seat. “We didn’t come here to fight. Sit down, eat, and listen to the music.” He clapped his hands, and the waiters began serving the dishes. The violinist started playing a beautiful, soft melody. The food was everything I used to love, and the music was perfect. But I couldn’t swallow a single bite. Sitting across from Clara made me feel physically ill. Halfway through the dinner, I excused myself to the restroom. When I walked out, Clara was waiting for me by the door. The weak, tearful girl was gone. Instead, she had a smug, wicked smirk on her face. “How does it feel, Elena?” Clara whispered, leaning in. “To have hope dangled in front of you, only to have it ripped away into total despair? It must hurt like hell, right?”

Elena POV I didn’t even want to look at her. I tried to walk past her, but she stepped in my way. “You know,” Clara sighed fake-sadly, “Anna had such a beautiful little face. Those cute little dimples when she laughed… It’s such a pity she had to die so young.” My heart, which I thought was numb, shattered all over again at the mention of my daughter. I glared at her. “You never had the cure, did you? You set me up from the start just to watch me suffer, didn’t you?” “So what if I did?” Clara smirked. “James and I are the ones who belong together. You’re just an annoyance the Moon Goddess forced on him. That little brat you gave birth to was a mistake anyway. She deserved to die.” She leaned closer, her eyes glittering with malice. “Oh, by the way… did I mention? The poison inside your daughter… was cultivated using James’s own blood. The only antidote was his blood too.” “Clara!!” A mistake? Deserved to die? And the poison was made from James’s blood? Every ounce of my sanity snapped. I raised my hand and slapped Clara across the face with all my strength. The force of the slap sent her stumbling back. “You.” She clutched her red cheek, but instead of fighting back, she immediately burst into tears, a triumphant gleam flashing in her eyes. “What do you think you’re doing!” a furious voice roared from behind. Before I could react, a heavy hand grabbed my shoulder and violently shoved me away. I lost my balance and crashed hard against the brick wall. My head hit the solid surface with a sickening thud, making my vision go completely black for a second. Realizing he might have pushed me too hard, James froze. “Elena, I…” Suddenly, the heavy, gilded painting hanging on the wall above me shook. The wire snapped, and the massive frame came crashing down. “Watch out!” James yelled. His protective instincts kicked in, but instead of saving me, he instinctively lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Clara and shielding her with his body, turning his back to me. The heavy painting crashed directly onto my head. I didn’t even feel the pain before darkness swallowed me whole. When I finally opened my eyes, I was back in my bedroom at the packhouse. My head felt like it was about to explode. “You’re awake,” James’s voice came from the bedside, sounding relieved. I stared at the ceiling, not moving a muscle. “Does it hurt anywhere?” His eyes were glowing silver, meaning his wolf was currently in control. I shook my head slowly, watching as the silver faded and James’s human consciousness took over. He reached out to touch my forehead, but I flinched, turning my head away. James’s hand froze in mid-air, a flash of anger crossing his face before he suppressed it. He pulled his hand back and said in a cold, lecturing tone: “No matter how much you hate Clara, you shouldn’t have hit her. She is just a fragile human, and you are a werewolf. You could have killed her! How could you be so cruel?” I wanted to laugh, but I didn’t even have the energy. Of course. To him, Clara was always the victim who needed protection, and I was the violent monster. Even when he literally shielded Clara and let a heavy painting crush me, he didn’t care. “Do you know what she said to me?” I asked, turning my gaze to him. James scoffed. “What could she possibly say? She wanted to apologize, and she brought up Anna, which made you upset. I know you’re grieving, Elena, but Clara is…” “She said,” I interrupted, “that Anna was a mistake who deserved to die.” “How dare she say that?!” his wolf roared in my mind. But I knew it wasn’t James speaking. I was sick of the constant conflict between him and his wolf. “She also said that she was the one who poisoned Anna.”

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I heard my husband, Richard, charged a hundred dollars an hour for private tutoring. A student of his, Chloe, was practically begging me to save a spot for her. In my past life, I felt sorry for her and agreed. A month later, rumors spread like wildfire across the school that Richard had put his hands on her during their tutoring sessions. The day the school issued the official suspension notice, Richard locked himself in his study and never stood on a teacher’s podium again. Our daughter, Hailey, was pointed at by her classmates, who whispered, “Your dad’s a creep.” She cried every day and refused to go to school. My mother-in-law, Nancy, had trash thrown at her at the local grocery store. The neighbors avoided us like the plague. Meanwhile, Chloe took a minor bruise report to a local news station for an exclusive “brave girl speaks out” interview. She walked away with a $300,000 settlement from the school and was praised all over TikTok as a hero for “speaking her truth.” But now, I had been reborn. Chloe pushed open my office door, looking desperate. “Please, Sophia, just let me join Richard’s prep class! I really, really need this…” I sat behind my desk, my face completely expressionless. “Sorry, we aren’t doing private tutoring this year.”

Chloe froze. She clearly didn’t expect me to reject her so flatly. The office was dead silent. Paul, who worked at the desk next to mine, peeked over his partition. Chloe lowered her head, clutching the straps of her backpack so hard her knuckles turned white. Her voice sounded fragile, like it was about to crack. “But I asked around… they said Mr. Richard always takes a prep group before the SATs.” “My math score is terrible. He’s the only teacher whose explanations actually make sense to me.” “Sophia, I know my family isn’t rich, but I’ll find a way to pay the tuition. I promise.” I had heard this exact speech in my past life. Back then, I was stupid. I thought I was helping a struggling kid survive the college admissions race. I had even paid for her first week’s fees out of my own pocket. And what did I get in return? She dragged Richard into the mud and stepped on my family’s bleeding bodies to climb her way to fame. Looking at her watery, innocent eyes now, my stomach churned with pure disgust. “Chloe, the school adjusted the curriculum this year. Richard is not taking any extra students.” Her lips trembled. “Can I just stand in the back of the classroom then? I won’t take up a seat, and I won’t distract anyone.” “No.” “What if I only listen to the last ten minutes of—” “No.” With every “no” I dropped, the look of victimization on her face grew deeper. Soon, a few other teachers gathered near the office door. One of them whispered to me, “Sophia, she’s practically begging you. Don’t be so heartless.” “Yeah, her scores are tanking. If she doesn’t get them up, she’ll have to retake the SAT next year. Poor girl.” “Richard is used to working hard anyway. One more student won’t hurt him.” I looked up at them. In my past life, it was these exact guilt trips that backed me into a corner. “Just help her.” “You’re both educators, you shouldn’t just care about the money.” “It’s a kid’s future, don’t be so cold.” Yet, when the scandal broke, these were the very first people to run away and delete us from their contacts. No one remembered that they were the ones who forced her into our lives in the first place. Seeing people take her side, Chloe’s tears fell even faster. “I don’t want to cause trouble, Sophia.” “I just really want to go to a good college.” “My dad’s back is ruined from construction work, and my mom washes dishes at a diner. They told me if I don’t get a scholarship, I can’t go.” She bent forward, trying to give me a dramatic, apologetic bow. I moved fast, stepping aside to avoid it. “Don’t do that.” She froze mid-motion, a flash of humiliation crossing her eyes. I stared at her coldly. “If you want to study, do it. But don’t put on a show in my office.” Just then, Mr. Harrison, the Vice Principal, walked in, frowning. “What’s going on here?” Chloe looked at him like he was her savior and immediately turned to him. “Mr. Harrison, I wanted to sign up for Mr. Richard’s math prep class, but Sophia said he’s not doing it this year.” Mr. Harrison glanced at me. “Not doing it? Why wasn’t I informed?” I replied calmly, “Richard’s schedule is completely packed. He doesn’t have the time or energy for extra work.” Mr. Harrison’s face darkened. “Sophia, you work in administration. You know we have to look at the bigger picture. Chloe is one of our priority students this semester.” “Richard is one of our top teachers. He shouldn’t be picky about his students.” I let out a soft laugh. “Mr. Harrison, are we talking about an officially approved school program, or an unofficial private arrangement?” He choked on his words, unable to answer. The office went completely silent. Private prep schools have incredibly strict rules. Any after-school tutoring must go through the school’s billing system. Schedules, invoices, and parental consent forms are mandatory. In my past life, Chloe’s smartest move was framing a standard after-school Q&A session as a “private, secret meeting.” This time, I was going to leave her zero gray areas. Mr. Harrison cleared his throat. “Of course it’s an official school program.” “Great. Then we’ll follow standard protocol. We’ll use the AV recording room. We need her parents’ signed consent, and all tutoring sessions must take place directly under the school’s security cameras.” Chloe snapped her head up, her face turning pale for a split second. But Mr. Harrison didn’t notice. He just nodded. “Fine. Let’s do that.” I looked at Chloe. “Hear that? If you really want to study, we play by the rules.” She bit her lip, waiting a long time before finally nodding. “Okay.” But the sheer resentment in her eyes did not escape me.

That night, I pulled Richard out onto the balcony. He had just finished grading a mountain of tests. His glasses were still resting on the bridge of his nose, and he looked exhausted. “What’s wrong, babe?” I looked at him, my throat tightening. The last time he stood on a podium in my past life, he looked exactly like this. A crisp white shirt, black-rimmed glasses, and chalk dust on his cuffs. But later, he would flinch every time his phone buzzed. The vile comments online had acted like razor blades, slicing away his dignity piece by piece. He had done absolutely nothing wrong, yet he was forced to explain himself over and over again to a mob that didn’t care. “There’s no smoke without fire,” they had said. I took a deep breath. “Starting tomorrow, you are never to be in a room alone with Chloe. Not even for a second.” Richard blinked in confusion. “Chloe? The girl who came by today?” “Yes.” “Is something wrong with her?” I wanted to tell him everything about the past life. But the words got stuck in my throat, coming out as, “I had a really terrible nightmare.” He didn’t laugh at me. Richard was always like that. Even when things sounded ridiculous, he would listen to me seriously. I described what Chloe might do, framing it as a “dream.” He said he would be careful. I shook my head. “Being careful isn’t enough.” I slid a piece of paper across the table to him. It was a list of ten rules I had drafted. As Richard read through them, his brow furrowed deeper and deeper. “Sophia, do you know something I don’t?” I stared into his eyes. “I just know that human nature is sometimes much harder to solve than any math equation.” He fell silent for a long time, then folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket. “I trust you. I’ll do it.” The next day, Chloe officially joined the six-person AP Calculus prep group. I personally moved the class to the third-floor AV room. When Chloe signed the attendance sheet, her fingers hesitated. I stood beside her. “Any questions?” She looked up, offering a sweet, innocent smile. “No, Sophia. You’ve thought of everything.” I smiled back. “We have to protect our students. And our teachers.” The voice recorders were standard school equipment. Serial numbers, check-out times, and return logs—everything was strictly documented. They were meant for resolving classroom disputes, but in my past life, nobody had thought to use them. This time, I wasn’t letting a single detail slip through the cracks. For the next two weeks, Chloe was on her best behavior. She was so quiet that I almost thought I had successfully rewritten our destiny. But by the third week, she started testing the waters. When the bell rang and the other students packed up and left, Chloe stayed behind, holding her workbook. “Mr. Richard, could you explain this problem to me one more time?” Richard glanced at the door. The female teaching assistant I had assigned immediately stepped into the room. “I’ll stay and listen too,” the assistant said with a polite smile. Chloe’s expression stiffened. “Never mind. I’ll just figure it out at home.” Another time, she collapsed in the hallway, clutching her stomach right as Richard was walking by. “Mr. Richard, I feel so dizzy…” Before Richard could even speak, I stepped out from around the corner, with the school nurse right behind me. “What’s wrong? Let’s get you to the clinic.” Chloe gasped when she saw me, panic flitting across her face. “I… I think my blood sugar is just low. I’ll be fine if I sit down.” Then, she started sending late-night messages to Richard on Snapchat. [Mr. Richard, I really can’t take this pressure anymore.] [I don’t want to live.] [Can we please just talk? Just between us. Please don’t tell anyone.] In my past life, these exact screenshots were leaked and edited into a viral video. “If their relationship was totally innocent, why did she only reach out to him?” the internet had screamed. This time, Richard didn’t reply. Instead, he took screenshots and posted them directly into the school administration’s group chat, tagging the school counselor and Chloe’s homeroom teacher. Within ten minutes, the school counselor contacted Chloe’s parents. When Chloe came to school the next day, her eyes were red and swollen. She marched up to my desk, her voice dropping to a cold whisper. “Sophia, I trusted Mr. Richard. Why did you have to turn this into such a massive deal?” I looked up. “Because your life is more important than your secrets.” She stared at me. At that moment, the fragile, victimized mask she wore slipped, just for a second. “You really know how to play the saint, don’t you?” I closed my file folder. “And you really know how to act.” Her expression shifted, but then she quickly lowered her head and let out a soft, mocking laugh. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I ignored her. But I knew she wouldn’t be able to hold back much longer.

A month later, on a Friday afternoon, the parent group chats exploded. I was in the administration office verifying the schedule for the next week when my phone started vibrating violently. Seconds later, someone dropped a link into the school’s public forum. The headline made my eyes burn. [Eighteen-Year-Old Prep School Student Breaks Down: ‘I’m Too Terrified to Go to Class After What My Math Teacher Did to Me’] The thumbnail of the video showed Chloe in her school uniform, her eyes swollen like plums, sobbing into the camera. “I hesitated for so long… I didn’t know if I should speak up,” she whimpered. “He’s a highly respected teacher, and I’m just a student. That night, after everyone left, he kept me behind…” She didn’t finish the sentence. But the silence she left was more damaging than any direct accusation. The comment section was already in a state of absolute fury. [Another monster hiding behind a teaching license.] [The school needs to fire him immediately!] [It takes so much courage for a young girl to stand up like this.] [Doesn’t this guy have a daughter of his own? Does she know what a creep her father is?] My hands shook so violently I almost dropped my phone. The ghost of the internet mob from my past life was clawing its way back to me. A second later, Richard called. His voice was steady, but noticeably hoarse. “Sophia, don’t look at the internet.” I could hear a massive commotion on his end of the line. People were shouting in the hallway: “Mr. Richard, did you really do it?” “Is the school calling the police?” “Are Chloe’s medical reports real?” I closed my eyes, forcing myself to breathe. “Where are you right now?” “The third-floor conference room. Mr. Harrison called me in to explain.” “Don’t say a word. Wait for me.” I slammed the phone down and ran out of the office. As I passed the middle school building, I saw my daughter, Hailey, sitting in the corner of her counselor’s office. She was clutching her backpack, her eyes bloodshot from crying. On the desk in front of her lay a crumpled piece of paper. Scrawled on it in black marker were the words: Creep’s Daughter. My brain went entirely numb. In my past life, this was the exact moment Hailey stopped going to school. She had locked herself in her room, asking me over and over again, “Mom, Dad isn’t a bad guy, right? Tell me he didn’t do it.” I walked in and knelt in front of her. “Hailey.” The moment she saw me, she burst into tears. “Mom, everyone is saying Dad did something horrible…” I pulled her into a tight embrace. “Your father did nothing wrong.” “And this time, I am going to make sure everyone shuts their mouths.” Her tiny body trembled in my arms. I handed her over to a colleague I trusted completely, then turned and stormed upstairs. The hallway outside the conference room was packed with people. Parents, teachers, board members, and a few strangers holding up smartphones to film. One woman in a beige blazer and heavy makeup had her phone camera pointed directly at the closed door. I recognized her instantly. Amber, a local influencer who specialized in “social justice” content. She was also Chloe’s cousin. In my past life, she was the mastermind who packaged Chloe as the ultimate victim. She had edited out all the logical loopholes in Chloe’s story, leaving only tears and dramatic silences. She had gained millions of followers off those viral videos. Later, she even launched a masterclass on her TikTok, teaching young girls “how to protect themselves from predators,” making a fortune in the process. As I approached, Amber was speaking directly into her livestream. “We are currently live outside the administration building at prep school.” “The teacher in question is inside, but the school administration has been completely silent. We have to ask: is academic prestige being used as a shield to protect a predator?” The surrounding parents started chanting in agreement. “Make him come out!” “Stop hiding him!” “Suspend him now!” I pushed the heavy double doors open. Inside the conference room, Richard sat on one side, his face completely pale. Mr. Harrison stood at the head of the table, sweating profusely. Chloe was curled up in a corner, a blanket draped over her shoulders, her body shaking as she sobbed. Next to her lay a medical report. Soft tissue contusion. I looked at those words and wanted to laugh. They didn’t even bother to change their script from my past life. Mr. Harrison looked at me like I was a ticking time bomb. “Sophia, thank god you’re here.” “The situation is completely out of hand. You need to convince Richard.” I asked coldly, “Convince him to do what?” He lowered his voice, leaning in. “Just have him issue a temporary apology and step down for a few days.” “The school will offer Chloe some financial compensation to quiet down the media. We need to stop this from escalating.” I stared at him. “Richard did absolutely nothing. Why on earth should he apologize?” Mr. Harrison’s face turned red. “This is not the time to be stubborn, Sophia!” Chloe suddenly let out a loud, dramatic wail. “Sophia… do you think I’m lying?” She lifted her face, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I know you’re his wife. Of course you don’t believe me.” “But what girl would ever make up something like this? Why would I put myself through this nightmare?” Amber’s camera immediately shoved past the doorway, aiming straight at my face. “Sophia, as a woman, why is your first instinct to protect your husband instead of supporting a vulnerable student?” I looked straight into the camera lens. In my past life, this exact question had nailed me to a cross. The moment I tried to defend my husband, the internet branded me as an “enabler” and an “accomplice.” This time, I wasn’t going to let them control the narrative. I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and dialed 911 right in front of everyone. “Yes, I’d like to report a crime.” “We have an active case of extortion, defamation, and malicious slander taking place right now.” The entire conference room went dead silent. Chloe’s crying abruptly stopped. Amber’s smug smile froze on her face.

Mr. Harrison was the first to panic. “Sophia! Are you insane?” “We haven’t even investigated this internally yet! Why are you calling the police?” I looked at him with sheer disgust. “Exactly. It hasn’t been investigated, which is why the police need to handle it.” “Or were you planning to play judge, jury, and executioner in this conference room?” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. Amber recovered quickly, pivoting her phone back to me. “Are you all seeing this? The moment a victim speaks out, the school administrator calls the police to intimidate her. Is this how they silence victims?” I walked right up to her face. “Miss Amber, you’d better save this livestream raw.” “You are filming minors without consent, disrupting school operations, and actively inciting a targeted harassment campaign against a teacher’s family. My lawyer will be receiving a copy of every single second of this.” Her expression soured. “Who do you think you’re threatening?” I smiled. “Try me.” Chloe started sobbing loudly again. “I don’t want the police involved! I just wanted an apology!” Hearing this, the parents outside started murmuring again. “Look how terrified she is.” “Calling the police is just going to traumatize her more.” “The school can’t use the law to bully a student.” I suddenly raised my voice, cutting through the noise. “Chloe.” She flinched. I locked eyes with her. “In your viral video, you claimed that on the night of March 27th, after after-school tutoring ended, Richard kept you alone in the third-floor classroom. Is that correct?” She bit her lip, then nodded. “Yes.” “Are you absolutely sure?” “Yes.” “And you claim there was no one else in the room but the two of you?” Her face went pale for a split second, but she forced herself to double down. “Yes.” Richard stood up abruptly. “I did not—” I pressed a hand firmly on his shoulder, keeping him grounded. “Easy, Richard.” Then, I turned to Mr. Harrison. “Mr. Harrison, pull up the security footage from the third-floor hallway from that night.” Mr. Harrison frowned. “Sophia, the hallway cameras only show people entering and leaving. They can’t prove what happened inside the classroom.” A flash of smug satisfaction crossed Chloe’s eyes. She thought she had won. She knew she hadn’t done anything suspicious on the hallway cameras, and she knew the cameras couldn’t see into the corners of the classroom. She knew that allegations like this succeeded because they were impossible to disprove. As long as she stuck to her story, Richard would never be able to wash the dirt off his name. But what she didn’t know was that I had been planning for this exact day for an entire month. Two police officers arrived shortly after. “Who called 911?” I raised my hand. “I did.” I gave them a quick, clear summary of the situation and handed over a sealed manila envelope I had prepared in advance. As the officers flipped through the documents, their expressions became incredibly serious. Mr. Harrison wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Officers, the public backlash online is severe right now. Maybe we should just suspend Richard first to prevent—” “No,” I interrupted him flatly. He glared at me. I ignored him, looking directly at the officers. “Officers, Chloe is accusing my husband of an incident that allegedly occurred after 9:45 PM on March 27th.” “That class took place in the AV recording room. All students signed a consent form prior to starting the program.” “I am officially requesting that we play the audio recording from that classroom from that night, right here, right now.” Chloe’s head snapped up. Amber’s hand holding the phone began to tremble. “Classroom recording?” Chloe’s voice pitched high, laced with sudden panic. “But… I thought the mic was turned off after class ended!” I stared at her, my voice ice-cold. “The notice on the door is very clear, Chloe.” “The audio equipment automatically records from the start of class until thirty minutes after the room is cleared. You signed the agreement yourself.” The color completely drained from her face. Amber tried to salvage the situation, yelling, “How do we know you didn’t tamper with the audio?” I reached into my bag and pulled out a sealed, transparent evidence bag. “The voice recorder used that night was checked out by the teaching assistant according to school protocol, and sealed immediately upon return.” “The seal, the log, and the serial numbers are all fully documented.” I looked around the room. “Chloe, didn’t you want justice?” “Let’s listen to what actually happened in that room.”

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On the eve of my engagement party to my fiancé, Brooks, our friends put together a “Mystery Box Game.” Each guy put a gift inside a box, and the girls drew them at random. When I opened mine, there was only a thin slip of paper inside: [Thank you for participating.] Brooks rubbed my hair gently. “Still as unlucky as ever, babe.” Bryant, my best friend since kindergarten, lowered his voice too. “It’s just a game, Alice. Don’t let it ruin your night.” Then it was Michelle’s turn. She opened her box. Inside was a pink diamond necklace Brooks had personally picked out, and a voucher for a couple’s getaway to Maui—a trip I had been begging Brooks to take me on for three years. There was also a card written by Bryant: [We will always protect you.] I forced a tight smile and set my empty box back on the table. It was just a lucky draw, right? It was all about luck. Until I went to the restroom and overheard the coordinator in the lounge checking the guest list. “Mr. Brooks, did we distribute the boxes correctly?” “The one with the gifts goes to Miss Michelle. The empty one goes to Miss Alice.” Brooks gave a casual “Yeah.” Bryant chimed in with a chuckle, “Perfect.” Standing outside the door, I quietly tore the paper slip into pieces. I’m canceling the wedding. This little game of luck they rigged? I’m not playing anymore.

When I walked back into the VIP room, everyone was crowding around Michelle, taking photos. The pink diamond necklace rested against her collarbone, sparkling like a teardrop being cradled in someone’s palm. Someone teased, “Brooks, you have crazy good luck. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were proposing to Michelle tonight.” Michelle’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. “Don’t say that. It’ll make Alice uncomfortable.” The moment she spoke, every eye in the room shifted to me. Seeing me walk in, Brooks frowned slightly. “Why are you standing by the door?” “Anyone would think someone was bullying you.” I looked at him, suddenly finding it hilarious. I was the one who got hurt, yet even my silence was treated as me throwing a tantrum. So, I didn’t move. Brooks’ brow furrowed deeper. Bryant stood up first and walked over to me. He had gentle eyes and always seemed to look at people with a warm smile. Before I turned eighteen, I always believed Bryant was the last person on earth who would ever embarrass me. But now, he bent down, keeping his voice incredibly low. “Alice, don’t make a scene and embarrass Brooks tonight.” I looked up at him. “Did I say anything?” Bryant choked on his words. Michelle clutched the necklace, her tears falling faster. “Alice, let me give the necklace back to you. I shouldn’t have taken it anyway.” The moment her hand touched the clasp, Brooks spoke coldly. “Keep it on.” Then Brooks turned to me. “The game decided who got it. That’s it.” I let out a soft chuckle. The room went dead silent. Brooks’ gaze turned icy. Bryant frowned. “Alice, it’s just a game. Do you have to make things so ugly?” He stepped in front of Michelle, shielding her. His voice was still soft, but it felt like a cold blade pressed against my throat. “Michelle has been insecure since she was a kid. She’s finally happy for once. Can’t you just let her have this?” There it was again. That same old line. I couldn’t help but look at Michelle. She was hiding behind Brooks, tears still hanging on her lashes, but the look she shot me was filled with a smug, silent triumph. A second later, Brooks stood up and walked over to me. He smelled of cold cedarwood. I was the one who chose that cologne for him. I told him it suited him—clean and sophisticated. But he used to complain it was too subtle. Later, Michelle said she liked it. He had been wearing it for three years now. He reached out, trying to ruffle my hair like he always did. I tilted my head and stepped back, dodging his hand. Someone in the room gasped. Brooks’ expression finally darkened completely. “I’ll be there for your bridal fitting tomorrow.” I looked up into his eyes. “You actually remember?” He stared back as if I had just said something ridiculous. “When have I ever forgotten a promise I made to you?” Just then, Michelle let out a soft cough. Brooks turned around instantly. “What’s wrong?” Michelle shook her head. “Nothing. My neck is just a little itchy. Maybe I’m not used to the necklace yet.” Brooks picked up his coat from the couch and draped it over her shoulders. Bryant looked at my pale face and sighed. “Alice, stop overthinking.” “Brooks is marrying you tomorrow. Michelle is just like a little sister to us.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Does a ‘little sister’ accept a pink diamond handpicked by the fiancé?” The smile faded from Bryant’s face. “Do you have to be so bitter?” Brooks looked back, his voice dropping to a warning whisper. “Alice, that’s enough.” Suddenly, I didn’t want to say another word. In this game of theirs, even after being humiliated, I was expected to smile and say, “Oh, I guess I’m just unlucky.” When the party ended, Brooks drove Michelle to the hospital. Her neck had broken out in a small red rash. Bryant stayed behind to take me home. As we reached the exit, he took off his scarf and wrapped it around my neck. “The wind is cold tonight. Don’t catch a cold.” I stared down at the scarf. He always did this. Just when I was about to give up on him completely, he would throw me a tiny crumb of warmth. And in the next second, he would push me right back into the dark. Sure enough, once the scarf was secured, he said, “Alice, don’t take tonight to heart.” “You know Brooks. He’s cold on the outside, but he cares about you.” “He’s going to your fitting tomorrow, and you guys are getting your marriage license the day after.” “You’ve already won. Stop fighting Michelle over these little things.” I looked at him. “What exactly did I win?” Bryant froze. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Because even he couldn’t answer that.

The next morning, I went to the bridal boutique alone. When the stylist pulled the main wedding gown out of the dust bag, her eyes lit up. “Miss Alice, this is absolutely perfect for you. Is Mr. Brooks joining us today?” I hesitated. “He’ll be here.” That was the very last time I would ever make excuses for him. But ten o’clock came, and he wasn’t there. At ten-thirty, his assistant sent a text: [Miss Alice, Mr. Brooks has an urgent matter to attend to. He might not make it today.] I dialed Brooks’ number. He actually picked up. But over the line, I could hear Michelle’s muffled whimpers in the background. “Alice, I’m at the hospital,” Brooks said. I gripped my phone tightly. “What happened to you?” “Not me. It’s Michelle. She had an allergic reaction to that necklace last night. Her neck is severely swollen.” I looked down at the wedding gown I was wearing. The corset was laced so tightly it made it hard to breathe. “Today is our wedding fitting.” The line went silent for a moment. Then, Brooks let out a heavy sigh. “Alice, don’t compare yourself to her.” “You’re the one registering the marriage with me tomorrow. You’re the one who will stand beside me at the altar.” “Michelle is sick, and I’m just staying with her for a bit. Do you really have so little security in our relationship?” A lump formed in my throat, choking me. Just then, a stylist walked over, holding a box. “Miss Alice, Mr. Brooks just had this delivered.” Inside was a pair of off-white satin wedding heels. The heels weren’t too high, and there were blister pads pre-applied to the back of the shoes. A card lay next to them: [Your heels blister easily. Don’t wear them too high.] Staring at the card, a sharp ache bloomed in my chest. So he did remember. When I was eighteen, the first time I wore high heels, my heels ended up bloody and raw. On the phone, his voice softened. “Did you get the shoes?” “Yeah,” I whispered. “Be good,” he said, coaxing me. “I’ll come home and have dinner with you tonight.” Before I could reply, Michelle’s voice drifted through the receiver. “Brooks, is my neck going to scar?” Brooks immediately turned away from the phone. “No, let me see.” The call clicked dead. I looked down at the shoes. The shoes fit perfectly. But the man who sent them never showed up. At 3:00 PM, Bryant arrived. By then, I had already finished trying on all the dresses. Bryant pushed the door open, and when he saw me, his eyes widened slightly. “You look beautiful.” He walked closer and looked down at my feet. His brow furrowed instantly. “Did you get blisters again?” He knelt down, pulling a tin of Band-Aids from his pocket. “Don’t move.” He applied the bandage with extreme gentleness, a routine he had mastered years ago. Once done, he looked up at me. “Does it hurt?” I didn’t answer. Bryant stood up and helped me up. “Let’s get in the car. It’s freezing outside.” It was pouring. He tilted the umbrella completely over my side, leaving his own shoulder soaked within seconds. I followed him to the car. Just as I was about to slide in, I noticed a white plush lamb sitting on the passenger seat. I froze. Bryant hesitated for a split second, then quickly held the door open, speaking in a casual, dismissing tone. “Just sit in the back.” I stared at the toy. “It can’t sit in the back?” Bryant went stiff. “Don’t start, Alice. Michelle has been waiting for this toy all afternoon.” “So, I sit in the back, and the toy gets the front seat?” He sighed deeply. “Alice, you’re different.” “You’re stronger than her.” Tears stung the back of my eyes. But I reached out and pushed his hand off the car door. “Bryant, I don’t want to be strong today.” The warmth on his face vanished. “Don’t make this hard for me.” I smiled weakly. “You always tell me to be understanding. Why do you never tell her to be understanding?” Bryant was silent for two seconds. Then, he said: “Because she actually cries.” I nodded slowly. “And I don’t.” I hugged my wedding gown bag tightly, turned around, and walked into the rain. The downpour was heavy. Within steps, the back of my heels began to throb with pain. I didn’t look back, and Bryant didn’t chase after me. Honestly, it didn’t matter anymore. Twenty minutes later, Michelle posted on her Instagram. In the photo, the white plush lamb was sitting clean and cozy next to her hospital bed. Her caption read: [Someone ran through the storm just to bring me this. He said he won’t rest until my pain is gone.] I stood by the side of the road, holding my heavy dress garment bag, my feet completely numb from the cold and pain. The boutique assistant ran out, handing me a small paper bag. “Miss Alice! You forgot your veil!” I took it. At that exact moment, I decided I didn’t want to register the marriage anymore.

But the next morning, I still went to City Hall. I just wanted to see, with my own eyes, if he would actually show up. At 9:15 AM, I saw Brooks’ car pull up across the street. When the car door opened, my chest loosened. I even subconsciously smoothed down my hair. Honestly, if he had just walked up to me and said, “Alice, I’m here,” I might have swallowed all of last night’s pain and pushed forward. But then his phone rang. Brooks answered it. I didn’t know what Michelle said on the other end, but his face turned pale. In the next second, he got right back into the car and drove away. The sound of the car door shutting was quiet, but it felt like a sledgehammer to my heart. Ten minutes later, Michelle posted on Instagram. [I told him I didn’t want to be alone, and he actually came back for me.] The photo showed Brooks holding her hand while she was hooked up to an IV. At 9:40 AM, Bryant rushed to City Hall. When he got out of his car, his face was lined with exhaustion, looking like he hadn’t slept. “Stop waiting, Alice. Brooks isn’t coming today.” I stared at him. “I saw him.” Bryant was stunned. He opened his mouth, but in the end, he only said, “Michelle’s allergy flared up again last night. She can’t handle any stress right now.” I asked quietly, “But I can?” He frowned. “Alice, stop asking things like that.” He stepped closer, his voice taking on a coaxing tone. “You’re the one getting the wedding, the title, and the name Mrs. Brooks.” “What does Michelle have? She only has us as her friends.” I packed up my ID, turned, and walked away. Bryant grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “The wedding planning company.” He let out a sigh of relief. “To finalize the schedule?” “Yeah,” I murmured. His face softened. “Good. Don’t ruin the big day. If you make a scene, you’re the one who will look bad.” At the wedding planner’s office, the coordinator looked incredibly uncomfortable. She pushed her tablet toward me to show me the screen. On the screen was a giant photo of Brooks standing in the middle, with me on his left and Michelle on his right. The photo was taken at Michelle’s birthday party last year. She was wearing a white dress, holding Brooks’ arm, looking like the real bride. I was standing off to the side, still holding the knife we used to cut her cake. The welcome sign had been changed too: [Thank you for witnessing our ten years together.] But why did “our ten years” have to include Michelle? I scrolled through the itinerary. Everything had been modified. In our wedding vows, there was even a paragraph dedicated to thanking Michelle. I looked at the coordinator. “Who approved this?” The coordinator said timidly, “Mr. Brooks did.” Seeing my face turn pale, Bryant immediately spoke up. “It’s just the welcome area, not the main stage.” “Michelle never had a real family. She just wanted to feel included.” I looked at him. “It’s my wedding. Why does she need to feel included?” Bryant’s voice grew heavy. “Alice, don’t be so petty.” Just then, Brooks called my phone. The moment I picked up, he asked, “Did you see the new itinerary?” “I did.” “Michelle cried all night, saying she felt like an outsider. I had them add a few photos.” I asked, “Do you think that’s appropriate?” “What’s wrong with it?” he snapped, his voice filled with impatience. “She’s your maid of honor, and she’s our mutual friend. You’re marrying me tomorrow, Alice, not a digital screen.” I kept scrolling. When I reached the jewelry confirmation page, my fingers froze. The note read: [Pearl earrings to be worn by Miss Michelle for the wedding promo video shoot.] Those pearl earrings were a family heirloom left to me by my mother. Before she passed away, she told me she wanted me to wear them on my wedding day. It was my “Something Old.” I asked, “Why is Michelle wearing my mother’s earrings?” Brooks was silent for a moment. “She’s just modeling them for the promo…” I cut him off. “Those belong to my mother.” “I know.” I let out a bitter laugh. “You know, and you still let her wear them?” Over the phone, Michelle started crying softly. “Brooks, forget it. I won’t wear them. I don’t want to make Alice mad…” Brooks’ voice softened instantly as he comforted her. “Don’t say that.” When he spoke to me again, his voice was like ice. “Alice, Michelle was just trying to help you test them out. Do you have to be so harsh?” I said, “Get them back. Now.” Brooks didn’t reply. Standing next to me, Bryant suddenly spoke up. “Alice, if your mother were still here, she wouldn’t pick a fight with a young girl over this.” I whipped my head around to look at him. The conference room went dead silent. Bryant flinched under my gaze, but he kept pushing. “Am I wrong? Your mother would have wanted you to be the bigger person.” “If she saw you making such a massive scene over a pair of earrings, she wouldn’t be happy either.” Slap! I slapped him across the face. On the other end of the line, Brooks roared, “Alice! Did you just put your hands on him?!” Bryant stumbled back, his hand on his cheek, his eyes wide with utter shock. “Alice… I don’t even recognize you anymore!” I didn’t answer him. I grabbed my bag and walked out. Behind me, Brooks’ voice came through the phone: “If you walk out now, don’t expect me home tonight.” I paused for a fraction of a second. “Whatever.”

At 11:00 PM, Brooks wasn’t home. I sat in the living room of our new house, flipping through the wedding program from start to finish. My name only appeared twice. This didn’t look like a wedding between Brooks and me. It looked like a celebration of three people. At 1:00 AM, the front door unlocked. Brooks walked in, smelling heavily of hospital sanitizer. Seeing me still sitting there, he frowned. “You’re still up?” I asked, “Where are the earrings?” He stopped unbuttoning his collar. “Michelle has to shoot the promo video tomorrow morning. They’re staying with her tonight.” I stood up. “Get them back. Now.” Brooks’ face darkened, the last of his patience completely evaporating. “Alice, I am marrying you tomorrow!” “What more do you want?!” I said, “I want my mother’s things.” Brooks let out a cold, arrogant chuckle that cut like a knife. “She’s literally just wearing them for a video, and you can’t even handle that?” “Alice, don’t be so greedy.” I stared at him, dumbfounded. To him, wanting my deceased mother’s heirloom back was “greedy.” Right then, Bryant called Brooks. His voice was frantic. “Brooks, we have a problem.” “Michelle says the earrings are gone.” My entire body went rigid. Half an hour later, we rushed to the hotel dressing room. Michelle was sitting in front of the vanity mirror, wrapped in Brooks’ coat, her eyes swollen red from crying. The vanity table was a complete mess. But the pearl earrings were nowhere to be seen. I looked at the stylist. “Where’s the security footage?” The stylist kept her head down. “The cameras broke this afternoon.” How convenient. I looked at Michelle. “Give them back to me.” Tears streamed down Michelle’s face. “Alice, I swear I didn’t take them!” “Then we call the police.” Michelle’s face turned pale. She suddenly stood up and made a move to throw herself against the wall. “It’s all my fault! I shouldn’t have touched Alice’s things! I should just die!” Brooks caught her in his arms, and Bryant rushed over to help hold her back. The two of them shielded her, one on each side, keeping her safe in the middle. Brooks looked back at me, his eyes colder than ice. “Apologize.” I thought I had misheard him. “What did you say?” “Apologize to her.” He said it slowly, emphasizing every word. “She is already having a breakdown. How much further do you want to push her?” I stared at him. “Brooks, she lost my mother’s only keepsake.” “She said it wasn’t on purpose!” “And you just believe her?!” “Do you have any proof that she did it on purpose?” I was speechless. Bryant pleaded in a low voice, “Alice, just swallow your pride.” “You’ve already won. Why do you have to make things so hard for her?” Looking at them, an overwhelming wave of exhaustion washed over me. Michelle was clearly the one winning everything, yet everyone treated her like the victim. So, I nodded. I didn’t want to fight anymore. “Fine.” The dressing room went quiet. Brooks frowned, clearly not expecting me to give in so easily. Even Bryant looked stunned. I turned to Michelle. She was still shrinking behind Brooks, tears pooling in her eyes. I said, “I’m sorry.” Bryant stared at me, his lips parting. “Alice…” I didn’t look at them again. I slipped off my engagement ring and placed it quietly on the vanity. “The wedding can go on tomorrow.” “Don’t let me ruin your fun.” I turned and walked out. Brooks looked like he wanted to chase after me. But Michelle suddenly clutched her neck, her voice trembling, “Brooks, it hurts so bad…” Brooks immediately turned back to her, and Bryant instantly focused all his attention on her. In that split second, I stepped out of the room. By the time they looked up again, the door had closed, and I was gone. That night, I went back to the house and canceled every single wedding vendor, one by one. The wedding planner took my call at 3:00 AM, her voice trembling with panic. “Does Mr. Brooks know about this?” “He doesn’t need to.” Before the sun rose, I dragged my suitcase and left the city. On the morning of the wedding, at 10:00 AM. Brooks went to the jewelry store himself and picked out a pear-cut diamond ring. He stared down at the ring, his voice quiet. “She’s loved this cut since she was eighteen.” Bryant stood beside him, holding a long, black umbrella. My name was engraved on the handle. He smiled softly. “This should work too.” “She’s remembered that rainy night when we were eighteen for so many years.” Brooks shot him a look. “You still remember that?” Bryant’s smile faded a bit. “Yeah.” He paused, then added, “She apologized way too quickly last night.” Brooks scoffed. “She was just tired.” “After throwing a tantrum all night, she needed a way out.” Bryant nodded. “True.” He forced a laugh. “Alice has a soft heart.” “With you giving her the ring and me giving her the umbrella, she won’t be able to stay mad once she sees them.” But when the two arrived at the hotel venue, they found the staff taking down the wedding decorations. Brooks froze. “Who told you to tear this down?” The coordinator was shocked to see him. “Mr. Brooks… wasn’t the wedding canceled?”

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I hid my identity as the sole heiress to the Kingswell Group—one of the most powerful Wall Street empires—and spent five years living in a cramped apartment with Carter Miller, helping him build his tech startup from scratch. Finally, our company, Atlas Tech, was about to go public on Nasdaq. But at the IPO celebration party, he went down on one knee and proposed to Tiffany Vance, the daughter of a wealthy real estate developer. After the proposal, he dragged me into a quiet corner and handed me a non-disclosure agreement. “Tiffany is bringing a hundred million dollars in Series C funding to Atlas Tech,” Carter said, his eyes cold and transactional. “What do you have to offer, Stella? You’re just an orphan. Sign this. I’ll buy you a luxury condo in downtown Manhattan and give you a hundred thousand dollars a month. Just stay in the shadows and be my good girl.” I looked at his arrogant, smug face and burst out laughing. “Carter, did you forget? I wrote every single line of the core AI algorithm that made this company worth billions.” He thought I was just a nobody with no background. He had no idea that with one single phone call, the tech empire he was so proud of would crumble into dust.

On the stage, Carter raised his champagne glass. The spotlight hit him perfectly, making him look like the king of the world. “Tonight is not just the fifth-anniversary celebration of Atlas Tech,” Carter announced into the microphone, his voice dripping with confidence. “It is also the most important day of my life.” He looked down at the VIP section with deep, calculated affection. “Tiffany, will you marry me?” The ballroom erupted into deafening applause. Wearing a custom Dior gown, Tiffany walked up to the stage like a proud princess, lifting her skirt. Carter dropped to one knee, pulled out a massive Harry Winston diamond ring, and slipped it onto her finger. I stood in the dark corner of the hall, holding a glass of warm water I had poured for him because his stomach had been acting up earlier. A sharp, stabbing pain hit my stomach. Five years ago, Carter was just a broke college kid who couldn’t even pay his rent. I hid my identity as the Kingswell Group heiress and squeezed into a damp, freezing basement with him. We had no heating in the winter. My fingers got frostbitten, but I still kept typing on my keyboard to write the very first code for Atlas Tech. Back then, he held my hands and said, “Stella, when the company goes public, I will give you the grandest wedding in New York.” Now, the company was going public. But the bride wasn’t me. At the back exit of the ballroom, Carter blocked me in the hallway. He handed me a folder. “Stella, you’re a smart girl. You should understand my situation,” he said smoothly. “The Vance family can bring a hundred million dollars to Atlas Tech. That’s our ticket to securing our Nasdaq listing.” “You’re just an orphan who had to work three part-time jobs just to pay for college. You can’t help me scale this company.” I looked at the “Voluntary Settlement and Non-Disclosure Agreement” in my hands and laughed from sheer anger. “So, you’re throwing me away like trash?” Carter frowned, clearly annoyed by my attitude. “Don’t put it so harshly. The agreement states that the apartment in Tribeca is yours, and I’ll wire a hundred thousand dollars to your bank account every month.” “As long as you play nice and don’t make a scene in front of Tiffany, nothing will change between us. Except for the marriage license.” I raised my hand and slapped him across the face. “SMACK!” “Carter, you disgust me.” Carter’s head snapped to the side. His expression instantly darkened. “Stella! Don’t push your luck!” he hissed, grabbing my wrist. “Without me, you’d still be working retail in some sketchy neighborhood! A hundred thousand a month? You couldn’t make that money even if you sold your soul!” I clenched my fists so hard my nails dug into my palms. “Did you forget, Carter? The core AI algorithm of Atlas Tech was written by me, and me alone.” I reached into my collar and pulled out a cheap plastic hair clip hanging from a string around my neck. That was a five-dollar gift he bought me during our first year of starting the company. “You told me this clip was our promise. You said you’d replace it with a real crown one day.” Carter let out a cruel laugh. He snatched the clip from my neck, threw it onto the marble floor, and crushed it under his shiny leather shoe. “Cheap trash. It looks pathetic.” “Wake up and face reality, Stella. Your code is valuable, but Tiffany’s hundred million dollars can buy me into high society.” “Tomorrow, hand over the master access codes of the core algorithm to the tech department. Otherwise, you won’t get a single penny.” I stared at him coldly. “And if I refuse?” Carter snapped his fingers. Four massive, burly security guards stepped out from the shadows of the hallway. “Take Miss Kingswell to the basement archive room so she can cool down. Nobody opens that door without my permission.”

“Carter! This is kidnapping! You won’t get away with this!” I shouted. But the guards didn’t give me a chance to fight back. They grabbed my arms and dragged me down to the basement. “I’m doing this for your own good, Stella. Once the opening bell rings next week, I’ll let you out,” Carter said, adjusting his Tom Ford tie as he turned back toward the bright, glamorous ballroom. “When you’re ready to talk, write down the password.” The heavy steel door of the basement archive room slammed shut. “CLANG!” Total silence. There were no windows, no cell service, only a dim motion-sensor light overhead. The AC was blasting, making the room feel like an icebox. I was thrown onto the cold concrete floor. The pain in my stomach suddenly intensified, crawling down to my lower abdomen. A sharp, throbbing cramp made me gasp. I curled up in the corner, clutching my stomach as cold sweat soaked my back. With trembling hands, I reached into my pocket and touched the folded ultrasound report. I had just gotten it from the hospital this afternoon. I was six weeks pregnant. I had planned to tell him the good news at the celebration party tonight. What a pathetic joke. “Baby… you chose the worst time to come,” I whispered, tears finally streaming down my cheeks. The next morning, the steel door groaned open. Carter walked in, holding a glass of warm milk. “Have you thought it through?” He looked down at me, his eyes completely devoid of warmth. I held onto the metal shelving and forced myself to stand up. “Carter, I’m pregnant.” Carter froze for a second, then his brows knitted tightly together. “Stella, are you seriously making up a lie like this just to keep the password?” I crumpled the ultrasound report and threw it at his face. “See for yourself!” Carter caught the paper. As he read the medical stamp, his expression shifted. But there was no joy in his eyes. Only panic and irritation. “Get rid of it,” he said coldly. I stared at him in disbelief. “What did you say?” “I said, get an abortion!” Carter raised his voice, his face twisting. “Tiffany hates kids. If she finds out you’re pregnant, the Vance family will pull their funding immediately!” “Stella, do not ruin my life right now!” My body was shaking violently. I pointed at the open door. “Get out! Get the hell out of here!” Carter sneered. “If you don’t hand over the password, you can rot in this room.” He turned and walked out, locking the steel door behind him. I collapsed onto the floor, swallowed by a wave of absolute despair. This was the man I had loved for five years. For money and status, he didn’t hesitate for a second to kill his own child.

I lost track of time. The steel door opened again. The bright light blinded me temporarily, and I shielded my eyes. The sharp click of high heels echoed in the empty room. Tiffany Vance walked in, wearing a Chanel tweed suit. She pinched her nose, looking at me with pure disgust. Two muscular bodyguards followed closely behind her. “Oh, so this is the pathetic rat who’s been begging Carter for scraps?” Tiffany walked up to me and kicked my leg with the toe of her designer heel. “You look so cheap. I have no idea how Carter tolerated you for five years.” I glared at her. “What are you doing here?” Tiffany giggled, pulled a document from her Hermès Birkin bag, and threw it in my face. “Just checking on the loser.” “And, helping you take care of the mistake in your stomach.” I looked down at the paper. It was an “Authorization for Termination of Pregnancy”. At the bottom right corner, Carter’s signature was written in bold, familiar cursive. “No… he wouldn’t…” My head spun, and my blood ran ice-cold. “Why wouldn’t he?” Tiffany knelt down, grabbing my chin tightly. Her long acrylic nails dug into my skin. “Carter said as long as it makes me happy, you and your bastard child are nothing but trash.” “My family has a reputation to protect. We can’t have a low-life woman giving birth to my fiancé’s child.” She stood up and wiped her hands with a wet tissue, looking disgusted. “Do it. Carter said as long as she has enough breath to write down the password, she doesn’t need anything else.” The two bodyguards immediately pounced on me like wolves. “Get off of me! This is assault!” I screamed, kicking and scratching with everything I had. But I hadn’t eaten in days. I was no match for two grown men. One guard pinned my shoulders to the ground, while the other raised his heavy boot and stomped hard on my abdomen. “AHHH!” An agonizing pain ripped through my body. I screamed, curling up into a tight ball. “Keep going until she miscarries,” Tiffany ordered coldly from the side. Another heavy kick landed on my stomach. Something warm and wet started flowing down my thighs, quickly soaking through my pants and pooling onto the concrete floor in a gruesome crimson stain. “My baby… help…” I weakly stretched out my hand, trying to grab onto anything. Tiffany walked over and stepped on my hand, grinding her heel into my knuckles. “Scream all you want. Nobody is coming to save you.” “Remember this pain, Stella. Know your place, and don’t try to climb into a world you don’t belong in.” She laughed, turning on her heel and leaving with her guards. The steel door slammed shut again. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my consciousness fading. My life was draining away. With the last bit of my strength, I reached into the hidden lining of my bra and pressed a tiny panic button. It was the exclusive GPS tracker for the sole heir of the Kingswell Group. “Beep—” A faint blue light flickered once. I closed my eyes, a single tear of blood slipping down my cheek. “Carter. Tiffany.” “You will pay for this with your lives.”

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Married for seven years, Julian Sterling and I tried every single way to get pregnant, but nothing worked. Looking at my body, bloated from all the hormone injections and medications, Julian’s eyes would turn red. He’d hug me and say, “Claire, it’s all my fault. My sperm count is practically zero. I can never make you a mother in this lifetime. But I swear, I will love you with my entire life to make up for it.” I believed him. For his sake, I gave up on having children. I even locked up the beachfront Malibu mansion I had fully decorated for a future baby, just to cut off any painful memories. Until today, when I received a call from the prestigious Royal Swan Ballet Academy. “Mrs. Jian, your daughter Lily just pushed her dance partner off the three-foot-high stage! The other child has a broken leg. Please come with Mr. Sterling immediately!” My brain went completely numb. I had never been pregnant. Where the hell did a daughter come from? I rushed to the academy, only to see my supposedly sterile husband holding a beautiful little girl tightly in his arms, shielding her. And standing right next to them was his unforgettable first love—Evelyn Ward. On the incident report, the home address listed was none other than my private Malibu mansion. It turned out that my compromise, my mansion, and my money were nothing but a cozy nest he had built for another woman! Well. I’m going to see how deeply in love you two really are once my money is completely out of the picture.

The lights at the charity gala were blinding. On stage, the auctioneer was holding up a crystal angel statue, his voice booming through the microphone: “Six million dollars! Offered by Mrs. Claire Jian! Do I hear any higher bids?” I held up my paddle, my expression calm. Julian had been staring at this angel statue in the catalog for days. He told me his mother had been suffering from terrible migraines lately, and he wanted to win the auction to give it to her as a peace offering to soothe her mind. In our seven years of marriage, Julian had treated me incredibly well. His only flaw was his diagnosed male infertility. To make up for this regret, his love for me was almost pathologically obsessive. And because I loved him, I went out of my way to be the perfect daughter-in-law. I didn’t even blink when paying the hundreds of thousands of dollars for his mother Beatrice’s annual “wellness spa retreats.” “Buzz!” The moment the gavel fell, my phone vibrated violently inside my clutch. It was an unknown number. I lifted my gown and walked out to the terrace of the banquet hall to answer it. “Hello, is this Claire Jian?” a sharp, anxious female voice demanded over the line. “This is the Royal Swan Ballet Academy! Your daughter, Lily Sterling, pushed the lead dancer off the stage during rehearsal! The other girl has a broken leg, and her parents have already called the cops. You and Julian Sterling need to get here right now!” The early autumn night wind blew over me, but I felt like I had been plunged straight into an ice bath. “You have the wrong number,” I said, my fingers gripping the phone so hard they turned white. “I don’t have a daughter.” “That’s impossible!” The woman immediately read off a list of information. “Lily Sterling, seven years old. Father: Julian Sterling. Mother: Evelyn Ward. The emergency contact listed under your name, Claire Jian, with this exact phone number! Mrs. Jian, your kid caused a massive accident. Playing dumb won’t get you out of this!” Julian Sterling. Evelyn Ward. These two names were like poison-tipped nails driven violently into my eardrums. Evelyn was Julian’s college sweetheart. Seven years ago, when Julian proposed to me, he deleted all her contact info right in front of me and swore they would never see each other again. But now, not only were they seeing each other, they had a seven-year-old daughter? “Mrs. Jian? Are you still there?!” “Send me the address.” I hung up. The cold wind against my back made me shiver, but my mind was suddenly incredibly clear. Without even picking up the angel statue I had just won, I stepped into my high heels and walked straight into the dark night.

The Royal Swan Ballet Academy was located in the most expensive district downtown. When I pushed open the heavy doors of the rehearsal hall, the room was already in absolute chaos. “You need to give us an explanation today! My daughter is supposed to audition for top international companies, and now her leg is broken! Can you even afford to compensate for that?!” A woman dripping in diamonds was pointing her finger and screaming at a man. The man, who was bowing his head and repeatedly apologizing, was Julian. The very same Julian who, before leaving the house, had kissed my forehead and told me he had to work late at the office. And hiding behind him was a little girl dressed in a custom white swan tutu. She was clutching the hem of Julian’s designer suit jacket, sobbing uncontrollably. “Daddy, I didn’t mean to… I’m scared…” “Don’t be scared, Lily. Daddy’s here. Daddy will protect you.” Julian knelt down, his heart clearly breaking for her. He pulled her into his arms, reached into his pocket, pulled out a strawberry gummy, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth. Standing at the doorway, my stomach turned. Julian had severe OCD and absolutely hated sweets. He would frown even if I ate a single piece of candy near him. Yet, in the pocket of his hundred-thousand-dollar custom suit, he kept strawberry gummies just to comfort this little girl. “Oh, my poor baby! Who dares to bully my sweet granddaughter!” A familiar figure suddenly rushed in from the hallway. My mother-in-law, Beatrice, who was supposed to be resting at a private high-end wellness clinic because she “couldn’t handle the outside draft,” was running like a track star. She was holding a pink thermos and immediately threw her arms around Lily, kissing her face. “Mom.” I walked forward, my heels clicking sharply against the hardwood floor. My voice was like ice. The room fell into a dead silence. Beatrice froze. Julian snapped his head up. The moment his eyes met mine, every drop of color drained from his face, and his pupils shook with sheer terror. “Cl… Claire? What are you doing here?” He instinctively let go of the little girl and tried to stand up to walk toward me, but a fragile-looking woman next to him quickly grabbed his arm. She was wearing a simple, elegant white dress, her eyes red and tearful. It was Evelyn Ward. “Claire…” Evelyn looked at me timidly, tears streaming down her face. “It’s all my fault. Please don’t blame Julian. The child is innocent…” I ignored her completely and stared straight into Julian’s eyes. “Julian, weren’t you working late at the office?” I took a step closer, backing him down. “Aren’t you sterile? Didn’t you say I was the only woman you’d ever have in this life?” Panic took over Julian. He violently shook off Evelyn’s hand and rushed over, trying to grab my shoulders. “Claire, let me explain! It’s not what you think! Lily is Evelyn’s child with another man. That man ran out on them, and Evelyn was struggling so hard on her own. I was just… just helping out an old classmate. I’m only her father on paper!” “On paper?” I let out a cold laugh and turned my gaze to the family showcase board on the rehearsal hall wall. Right in the center hung a massive family portrait. Julian was in casual wear, holding a beaming Lily, while Evelyn leaned her head happily on his shoulder. Underneath the photo, the home address was clearly printed: “Malibu Mansion, Rose Garden No. 1.” That mansion was my pre-marital property. It was the only inheritance my late parents had left me!

“Julian, you’re not just her dad on paper. You actually used my private mansion to register her school records?” My voice wasn’t loud, but every word cut like a knife. Julian’s face was whiter than paper. He shook his head frantically. “Claire, don’t misunderstand! That mansion has been sitting empty anyway. To get Lily into this academy, we had to show proof of a multi-million-dollar property. I only borrowed the address! They have never actually lived there, I swear!” “Yes, exactly!” Beatrice chimed in, quickly finding her voice. “Claire, don’t be so petty. You can’t even get pregnant anyway. T he Sterling family needs an heir! Even if Lily isn’t Julian’s biological child, she calls me Grandma. What’s wrong with me loving her? What’s wrong with using an empty house address?” I looked at this mother and son, feeling a wave of sheer absurdity. “I” couldn’t get pregnant? Years ago, during our fertility checks, Julian was the one whose medical report showed zero active sperm. He had literally knelt in the pouring rain, slapping his own face, begging me not to leave him. To save his pride, I had told everyone that my body was too weak to carry a child. And now, they were throwing that lie back in my face as if it were my fault. “Are you Claire Jian?” the mother of the injured girl sneered, looking at us. “I don’t care about your family drama. But today, if I don’t get three million dollars in compensation, this isn’t over! Since that mansion is yours, you are paying for this!” The school administrator also stepped up, handing me an incident liability form. “Mrs. Jian, since you are listed as the primary emergency contact and the owner of the registered property, please sign here.” I looked down at the paper. “Mother’s Name: Claire Jian.” “Contact Number: My private cell number.” “Home Address: Rose Garden No. 1.” They hadn’t just stolen my house; they had stolen my identity. Evelyn had been walking around using my name, enjoying the social status of being Mrs. Sterling! I pulled out my phone and took high-definition photos of the liability form, the family portrait on the wall, and the three guilty faces in front of me. “Claire, what the hell are you doing?!” Julian lunged to grab my phone. I stepped back, dodging his hands. My eyes were dead. “Julian, I’m not signing this, and I’m not paying a single penny.” I looked around the room, making sure my voice was clear enough for everyone to hear. “I, Claire Jian, am declaring right now. I do not have any children. This girl, Lily, has absolutely nothing to do with me. As for the Rose Garden No. 1 mansion, I have never authorized anyone to use it. If you dare forge my signature on any documents, I will see you in federal court.” Without giving Julian another glance, I turned on my heels and walked out into the night. The cold wind hit me again. I kept my back straight, but my tears finally broke free, streaming down my face. Seven years of marriage. Seven years of devotion. It was all a meticulously planned scam.

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Seven years of love, and I personally pushed Julian Vance to the absolute peak of Hollywood. On the day he bid fifty million dollars for a legendary, flawless pink diamond at a charity auction, the entire internet was waiting for him to propose to me. Even I thought this would be the perfect fairytale ending to our seven-year romance. But under the blinding spotlights, he walked right past me. He placed the pink diamond necklace around the neck of Chloe White—a helpless, naive rookie who had just debuted. “This necklace is too heavy for you to wear, Selena. You don’t need it. Chloe needs it more.” I wanted to fight back, but I soon realized he had already secretly transferred my movie contracts, my connections, and even my life’s work to her. It wasn’t until a raging fire broke out on the set of a survival reality show that the truth fully hit me. I was left struggling in the smoke, screaming for help, while Julian carried Chloe—who had nothing but a tiny scratch on her knee—out of the flames without once looking back. At that moment, my heart died. He forgot one thing. Everything he owned was given to him by me. I could build him up to the highest peak, and I could drag him down to the deepest hell.

The Metropolitan Charity Gala was a glittering sea of luxury. The massive crystal chandeliers cast a mesmerizing glow over the room. The wealthiest elites, tech billionaires, and A-list celebrities of New York were all gathered here. I was wearing an haute couture, star-embellished gown, sitting in the center of the very front row. Sitting right next to me was Julian Vance—the newly crowned Oscar-winning actor, the man of the hour, and my boyfriend of seven years. “Next up is our final masterpiece of the night—the legendary Pink Hope Diamond! We will start the bidding at ten million dollars!” The auctioneer’s voice echoed through the grand hall. A month ago, rumors had already flooded Snapchat and Instagram. Everyone said Julian was going to buy this diamond to propose to me on this live-streamed night. “Twenty million!” “Thirty million!” “Forty million!” The bids kept rising, pushing the atmosphere to a fever pitch. Julian hadn’t raised his paddle yet. He just leaned back in his seat, looking effortless and handsome, gently stroking my knuckles with his thumb. His hand was warm. It was a touch that always made me feel safe. When the price stopped at forty-five million, the room fell quiet. Finally, Julian slowly raised his paddle. His voice was deep and commanding: “Fifty million.” The crowd gasped. Countless cameras instantly spun toward us. Flashbulbs went off like wild lightning, making the room as bright as day. The live chat on the streaming platforms was exploding. The screen was covered in comments like: “OMG! Propose! Propose!” “They are literal goals!” The auctioneer’s voice trembled with excitement. “Fifty million! Mr. Julian Vance bids fifty million! Any higher bids? Going once… twice… sold!” The moment the gavel hit, the room erupted into thunderous applause. I turned to look at Julian, my heart beating so fast it felt like it would burst out of my chest. Seven years. From the days when he had nothing, to now, standing at the absolute peak of the entertainment industry. I had shared cold, cheap takeout with him in leaky basements. I had drunk myself to stomach bleeding at corporate dinners just to secure auditions for him. Now, was he finally going to keep his promise to marry me? Julian stood up. Under the watchful eyes of the world, he took the velvet box containing the pink diamond from the model. He turned around, his deep eyes looking in my direction. My breath caught. My eyes grew hot, and I even began to raise my hand, ready for him to slide a ring on it. But Julian walked right past me. A cold draft swept by as his suit jacket brushed against my arm, taking all the warmth from my body with it. I froze. My mind went completely blank. To the absolute shock of the audience, Julian walked to a quiet corner in the second row. Sitting there was a young, rookie actress wearing a simple white lace dress, looking like a frightened little deer. Chloe White. Julian stopped in front of her and opened the velvet box. The pink diamond sparkled brilliantly under the lights. It hurt my eyes to even look at it. “For you, Chloe.” Julian’s voice wasn’t loud, but through the microphone he was wearing, it echoed clearly through the entire hall. The silence in the room was deafening. Even the camera flashes stopped for a second. Chloe covered her mouth, her eyes instantly turning red as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Julian… this is too expensive. I can’t take this…” She shook her head, looking incredibly fragile and adorable. But Julian smiled warmly. It was a gentle, adoring smile he had never once shown me. With his own hands, he put the fifty-million-dollar necklace around Chloe’s slender neck. “Take it. You just started your career. You need something to give you confidence. Think of this necklace as my encouragement to a promising talent.” He said it so grandly, so righteously. Then, he turned his head and looked at me, still frozen in my seat. There was no guilt in his eyes. Instead, there was only a cold, condescending look of charity. “Selena, you’re already an Oscar winner. You have everything. This necklace is too heavy for you; you don’t need it. Chloe needs it more to light up her path ahead. You’re always so generous, I’m sure you don’t mind, right?” I looked at his familiar face, suddenly feeling like he was a complete stranger. My heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible hand, crushed into tiny pieces. I could barely breathe. “I don’t mind?” He took the pink diamond I had waited years for, on the night everyone expected him to propose, and gave it to a rookie who had done nothing but copy me and talk trash about me behind my back. And he had the nerve to ask if I minded? I bit my lower lip so hard that I tasted iron. But I didn’t scream. I didn’t run away crying. I am Selena Shaw. I never let anyone see me defeated. I slowly stood up, smoothed down the wrinkles of my gown, and kept my spine perfectly straight. Under the strange glances of the crowd, I walked right up to Julian. “Julian,” I said. My voice was terrifyingly calm. “Since you love playing the generous hero so much, I hope the two of you stay locked together forever.” Without waiting for his face to turn pale, and ignoring Chloe’s fake gasp of shock, I turned around. Stepping in my five-inch heels, I walked out of the gala, head held high. The moment I reached my private dressing room backstage, all the strength was drained from my body. I collapsed onto the sofa, my hands shaking uncontrollably. Julian’s spare jacket was still draped over the back of the couch. I took a deep breath, wanting to throw his trash jacket into the bin. But as I grabbed it, a neatly folded document slipped out of the inner pocket. There was no title on the front, only a stamp: “Project: Eclipse” As if possessed, I opened it. With just one look, the blood in my veins completely froze. “Step 1: Gradually strip Selena Shaw of her major brand endorsements. Under the excuse of “rebranding,” quietly transfer these contracts to Chloe White.” “Step 2: Use Selena’s social media traffic and industry connections to build hype for Chloe’s new movie. If necessary, leak negative rumors about Selena to make Chloe look pure and innocent.” “Step 3: On the day Chloe wins Best Actress, officially announce the breakup with Selena, securing Chloe’s place as the new queen of Hollywood.” At the bottom of the page was Julian’s signature. The date was from six months ago. Six months ago—right when Chloe first signed with his agency. I stared at the document, and a dark, hysterical laugh escaped my lips. Tears fell from my eyes, blurring the signature of the man I had loved for seven years. He didn’t just stop loving me. He had been planning this. He was systematically draining my life, my career, and my influence to build up his new girl. He wanted to destroy me to make her a star. Julian Vance, you are a monster.

Late at night, a heavy storm raged outside. The wind violently slapped sheets of rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows of the villa, making an eerie, pounding sound. I sat in the pitch-black living room, refusing to turn on the lights. Next to my feet were two packed suitcases. At 2:00 AM, the electronic lock on the front door clicked open. Julian walked in, smelling of rain and expensive cologne. He casually loosened his tie and flicked on the living room lights. The sudden brightness made me squint. He saw me sitting on the couch, and then his eyes landed on the suitcases. His movements paused, and his brow instantly furrowed. His voice was filled with irritation. “Selena, what kind of drama are you pulling now?” “I already explained the auction to you. Chloe is just a rookie. What’s wrong with me helping her out? You’re the veteran here. Did you really have to embarrass me in front of everyone tonight?” As he spoke, he poured himself a glass of whiskey at the bar. He sounded so righteous, as if I were the one who had committed a crime. I looked at him—this man I once thought I would grow old with. “Explain?” I let out a cold laugh and threw the “Project: Eclipse” documents directly at his face. The sharp edge of the paper sliced across his cheek, leaving a thin red line. The sheets scattered all over the floor. Julian looked down, and when he realized what the papers were, his pupils shrunk. He snapped his head up, his mask of calm sophistication finally cracking. “You went through my things?” he growled. “If I hadn’t, how would I have known that my boyfriend of seven years was planning to ruin my life for a girl he met six months ago?” I stood up, walking toward him step by step. “Julian, did you think I was an idiot? Did you think I would let you ruin me and thank you for it?” Julian’s throat moved as he swallowed hard, a flash of panic in his eyes. But he quickly forced himself to look calm, even reaching out to grab my hand. “Selena, let me explain. This plan… it’s just a standard business strategy from the agency. You’re already at the top. You don’t need these resources anymore. But Chloe is different. She’s fragile. She needs protection.” “Fragile?” I slapped his hand away, my eyes as cold as ice. “She’s fragile, so you stole my global luxury cosmetics contract and gave it to her?” “She’s fragile, so you paid tabloids to spread rumors that I was a diva on set, just to make her look sweet and hardworking?” “Julian, you’re not protecting her. You’re trying to destroy me!” Julian’s face went completely dark. His controlling ego was triggered. “Selena, don’t be ungrateful! Everything you have right now—which part of it didn’t come from me? Without me, do you think you’d be where you are today?” He pointed a finger at me, his words cutting like knives. I looked at him, feeling a deep, hollow sadness. “Julian, have you forgotten? Years ago, you were the one kneeling in the snow outside a director’s office, begging for a five-minute audition. I was the one who used my own salary to buy you a supporting role!” “When you were framed in that media scandal and almost canceled, I was the one who used every single connection I had, begging people face-to-face to save your career!” “I made you who you are, and now you have the nerve to say you gave me everything?” I grabbed the whiskey glass from the bar and smashed it onto the floor. With a loud shatter, glass flew everywhere, and the amber liquid spilled across the floor—just like our broken seven years. Julian was stunned by my anger and took a step back. “You’re crazy, Selena. You’re completely out of your mind.” He took a deep breath, returning to his cold, arrogant tone. “Fine. Since you’ve seen it, I have nothing to hide. Let’s take some space. You need to calm down. As for the contracts, I’ll compensate you.” “Compensate?” I grabbed the handle of my suitcase, my back straight, looking like a queen going to war. “Julian, keep your disgusting charity to yourself. As of tonight, we are done.” “You better pray your little rookie can stay hidden under your wing forever. Because if she flies out, I will show both of you what happens when you cross me.” Dragging my suitcases, I walked straight out into the pouring rain. Behind me, Julian’s furious roar echoed through the storm: “Selena! If you walk out that door, don’t ever think about coming back! Let’s see how long you can last in this town without me!” I didn’t look back. The freezing rain drenched my face, but it couldn’t put out the fire of revenge burning in my chest. “How long can I last?” “Julian, I will outlast both of you.” “I will stand at the absolute top and watch you slide into the mud.”

The morning after I left Julian, the retaliation came exactly as expected. My agent, Harper, walked into my apartment with red eyes and threw a stack of termination papers on the table. “Selena, Julian is going crazy. He used all his industry backing. Overnight, he got your remaining five brand deals canceled. Even the massive sci-fi movie you were supposed to star in has recast you with Chloe.” I calmly flipped through the contracts. The cancellation fees were in the millions. Julian was trying to completely blacklist me, forcing me to crawl back to him. “That’s not all,” Harper’s voice shook. “The internet is flooded with fake news about you. They’re saying you’re jealous of rookies, that you threw a tantrum at the gala, and they’re even hinting that you have an old billionaire sugar daddy…” I opened Snapchat and Twitter. Eight out of the top ten trending topics were about me. “SelenaShawGalaTantrum” “CancelSelenaShaw” “PoorChloe” At 3:00 AM, Chloe had posted a selfie with red, teary eyes: “I will always respect my seniors’ advice. I will work harder and not let anyone down.” Under her post, Julian’s fanboys and paid bots were leaving nasty comments: “Selena is just a bitter, aging actress who’s jealous of Chloe’s beauty!” “Bullying rookies? Cancel her forever!” “Julian finally saw her true colors. Good riddance!” I looked at the toxic comments, a cold smile appearing on my face. This was Julian’s play. Destroy my career, then ruin my reputation. “Harper, how much money do we have left in the business account?” I asked. Harper paused. “After paying off the fees, we won’t even be able to pay next month’s rent for the studio. Selena… maybe you should just talk to Julian? You guys were together for seven years…” “Never,” I cut her off. “I would rather starve than beg that piece of trash for mercy.” Just then, Harper’s phone rang. She picked it up, her face changing expressions rapidly. After she hung up, she looked at me, hesitating. “What is it?” “It’s… the production team of “Wilderness Survival”,” Harper bit her lip. “They’re offering to pay triple your usual rate to guest-star in the premiere episode. But…” “But what?” “But Chloe is a permanent cast member on that show. And you know how dangerous that show is. It’s unscripted, real-deal wilderness survival.” I understood instantly. This wasn’t a sudden lucky break. This was a trap set up by Julian. He knew I was broke. He was using the massive paycheck as bait to get me onto a show where I would be forced to make Chloe look good, get humiliated, and become the laughingstock of the internet. “We should decline. It’s too dangerous,” Harper said, worried. “No,” I raised my head, a dangerous spark in my eyes. “Accept it. Why wouldn’t we?” Since they wanted to play, I was going to play with them until the very end. I wanted to hit them the hardest when they thought they were winning.

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At the celebration banquet, Ethan stood on the stage, held the microphone, and said his only wish was to get a new wife. I froze in place. Beneath the stage, a young intern giggled loudly. “See, Mr. Miller? I told you. An old woman like her would be scared out of her mind the second she hears you don’t want her anymore.” “A bet’s a bet, Mr. Miller! You placed the highest bet, so Venmo me that $5,200 right now!” The crowd burst into laughter. Ethan didn’t even look at me. He walked straight down the stage. After transferring the money on his phone, he gently ruffled the young girl’s hair with pure fondness in his eyes. Only after doing all of this did he finally turn to look at me, his tone completely casual. “Rachel, it was just to liven up the atmosphere. She’s just a kid who likes to play around. Don’t take it personally.” He was absolutely sure that, just like in the past, I would swallow my pride, choke down the humiliation, and let it go. But this time, I picked up the microphone and spoke calmly: “What a coincidence, Ethan.” “How did you know that my wish is exactly the same as yours?”

The laughter in the room stopped instantly. Ethan’s face turned incredibly pale. He was the first to speak, his voice sharp: “Everyone was just joking. Why are you making a scene?” Before I could even reply, he waved his hand dismissively, his tone bordering on cruel: “Our Managing Director, Rachel, has been emotionally unstable lately. I apologize on her behalf.” Chloe tilted her head, looking at me with a sweet, mocking smile: “Could she be going through menopause? Mr. Miller, do you smell that retirement home scent on her when you sleep at night?” After saying that, she quickly covered her mouth, pretending to look innocent. Ethan gave her a fake, gentle scold: “Chloe, don’t talk like that.” But looking at the warmth and indulgence in his eyes, there wasn’t a single shred of real anger in his voice. It was pure, unfiltered favoritism. Chloe easily picked up on Ethan’s protection, which only made her act more spoiled and arrogant. People around us started whispering and snickering, throwing mocking glances at me. A sharp pain pierced my chest, spreading through my entire body. Ten years. I had stayed by his side, watching him go from having absolutely nothing to building a multi-million-dollar company. And yet, all I got in return was him protecting another young girl in public, while dragging my dignity through the mud. I pushed down the bitterness in my throat, took a deep breath, and spoke coldly: “Chloe, for public gambling, defamation, and slander—you should know that I can not only fire you right now, but I can also have my lawyers destroy you.” Chloe’s face turned instantly white. She instinctively hid behind Ethan. The sight of their intimacy burned my eyes. In the next second, Ethan stepped forward. Just like the way he used to protect me, he shielded Chloe completely behind his broad shoulders. “Rachel, cut the boss act. Ten years ago, when you got fired over a stupid two-hundred-dollar mistake and cried your eyes out, weren’t you the one begging?” Looking at him now, I felt nothing but a hollow sense of mockery. Yes. If Ethan hadn’t beaten someone up back then, I wouldn’t have been fired, and I wouldn’t have almost starved to death because I couldn’t afford the rent. Back then, he had cupped my tear-stained face in his hands, his eyes fierce and dead serious as he promised: “If anyone ever dares to disrespect you again, I’ll risk my life to make them pay.” But now, the very man who swore to protect me for the rest of my life was holding up the umbrella for the person stabbing me. How ironic. Ethan didn’t want to argue with me in public anymore. He grabbed my wrist and dragged me into the private VIP lounge next door. He threw me onto the leather sofa. My high heels scraped against my ankle, drawing blood. I gasped in pain. Ethan paused for a second, but his voice remained cold and hard: “You can’t even walk in heels, yet you insist on wearing them. You love making things hard for yourself, no wonder you’re always targeting a young girl.” “If you’re done throwing a tantrum, go home. I have things to take care of.” Without another glance, he turned on his heel and walked out. I sat frozen on the sofa for a long time before finally pulling out my phone. My Snapchat was filled with updates from the company employees. Chloe’s post was right at the top. It had two photos. One was a screenshot of the $5,200 Venmo transfer, captioned: [From the man I admire the most~] The other was a selfie of her and Ethan, standing extremely close. Chloe’s cheeks were flushed, and Ethan was looking down at her with a gentle smile. The comment section was filled with her friends dropping passive-aggressive hints about how I had a horrible temper and lacked any charm. I looked down at the beautiful but painfully tight high heels on my feet, and the truth finally sank in. Some people are meant to share your struggles, but they can never share your success. The warmth we once shared and the vows he made were real. But his current coldness and his betrayal were just as real. I opened my phone. The reservation for the luxury cruise tickets for two was still sitting in my app. I had tried countless times to piece back together this broken, ten-year relationship. But now, with a simple tap of my finger, I canceled Ethan’s ticket. Then, I messaged my divorce lawyer. For the rest of this journey, I would never wait for anyone again.

It was past midnight when I got home. That night, I dreamed of the heavy blizzard from ten years ago. In our tiny, cramped apartment, Ethan and I huddled together for warmth. We had no parents to help us, no wealthy backgrounds, nothing but our own two hands to fight for a future. Back then, I was always insecure because I was five years older than him. But one day, he came home, mysteriously pulled open his shirt, and showed me his chest. It was still bleeding, but my name, Rachel, was freshly tattooed over his heart. His eyes were incredibly bright as he wrapped his arms around me and whispered: “Don’t be scared anymore. If I ever stop loving you, Ethan Miller, my life won’t have any meaning left.” Those days of struggling in the mud and keeping each other warm flashed through my dreams over and over again. When I opened my eyes, I was brought back to the shattered reality of ten years later. Ethan was sitting by the edge of the bed, his voice completely devoid of emotion: “If I don’t come home, you just hide under the blanket and cry? Rachel, would it kill you to just back down for once?” I turned my back to him, refusing to say a word. He let out a heavy sigh, leaned back against the sofa, and said casually: “Rachel, you can’t even get pregnant. Honestly, I’ve already done more than enough for you over the years.” “Besides, I came back to tell you that Chloe is pregnant. Don’t go looking for trouble with her.” His tone was so casual, yet his words stabbed directly into my deepest wound. I bolted up, grabbed the bedside lamp, and hurled it straight at him. My voice shook violently: “Ethan! If I hadn’t walked through a raging blizzard for two hours to secure that contract for your business, my child would be here calling me ‘Mom’ right now!” “How can you even say that to me? Are you even human?!” Perhaps the raw agony on my face was too obvious. Looking at my bloodshot eyes, his expression finally softened slightly. “I can’t spend my entire life tied to a woman who brings nothing to the table anymore. You know how it is. Even the most loyal man gets tired.” Wiping away the tears from the corners of my eyes, I let out a mocking laugh: “What? Do you want me to get down on my knees and thank you?” The annoyance in his eyes flared up again. “Are you done yet? Losing that baby was your own fault for not being careful. You brought that on yourself!” “Chloe is so much younger than you, yet she’s gentle and understanding. Look at yourself now! You’re completely unreasonable!” He slammed the door and left. I didn’t sleep a wink that night. The next morning, the moment I walked into the office, Chloe was already waiting for me. Holding a cup of hot coffee, she gave me a smug, malicious smile: “Rachel, Ethan told me last night to focus on prenatal care for the baby. I guess he’s really sick of women like you~” Without even looking up, I snapped back: “Prenatal care? Teaching the kid how to be a homewrecker just like you?” Chloe’s expression turned nasty. Just as she was about to snap back, she heard Ethan’s footsteps approaching from behind. With a sudden gasp, she threw herself forward, spilling the scalding coffee all over my arm. My skin turned instantly red and began to blister. She grabbed my wrists, her fingernails digging deep into my flesh: “Rachel, I truly came here to apologize. Even if you hate me, please, for the sake of the baby, just let me go!” Ethan kicked my office door open and roared at me: “Rachel! Don’t push your luck! Do you really think you own this place?!” “I’m telling you, if anything happens to Chloe or the baby, I will make you pay!” With that, he scooped Chloe into his arms and walked out in front of everyone. Employees gathered in the hallway, whispering and watching the drama. My arm throbbed with intense pain. A wave of overwhelming despair washed over me, followed by a sudden, sharp pain in my lower abdomen. My vision went black, and I collapsed onto the floor. When I woke up, I was lying in a hospital bed. As I struggled to sit up, a nurse rushed over and gently pushed me back down. She said: “You’re pregnant. You need to rest. Stop working yourself to death.” I froze, staring at her in complete disbelief. Right at that moment, Ethan’s voice echoed from outside the ward.

Ethan pushed the door open, his eyes completely cold. “Rachel, you really love playing the victim, don’t you? The moment Chloe gets hospitalized, you put yourself in a hospital bed too. Are you that desperate for attention?” I looked up at him. For a split second, I wanted to tell him that I was pregnant. But his baseless accusations made me shut my mouth. I had nothing left to say to him. Whatever love and warmth I once had for him had already decayed in my throat after his countless acts of betrayal. Seeing my silence, his expression grew even colder. He turned to leave. “Whatever. Play your little games all you want. I’m not playing along.” The room fell into a dead silence. I slowly placed my hand over my still-flat stomach. The moment I get discharged, I’m taking my baby and leaving. Leaving Ethan, and leaving this place of heartbreak. Overwhelmed by exhaustion, I drifted off to sleep. When I woke up again, it was pitch black outside. Standing right beside my bed, holding my pregnancy test results, was Chloe. Sensing that I was awake, she whipped her head toward me, her eyes filled with venom and jealousy. “Rachel, why do you have to ruin everything for me right now?!” I tried to sit up, but my body felt completely drained of energy. Seeing my movement, Chloe assumed I was going to find Ethan. She stepped forward, blocking me, her voice distorted with rage: “You shameless bitch! You refuse to sign the divorce papers, and now you want to use this brat to keep your position?!” I didn’t want to waste my breath on her. I reached out to press the call button on the headboard. But Chloe shrieked and threw herself at me. “Since you won’t listen, you and your little brat can go to hell!” The sudden force of her impact knocked me off balance. I fell off the bed, my lower abdomen slamming violently against the sharp corner of the bedside table. An excruciating pain exploded from my abdomen, radiating through my entire body. As the room spun, I felt a warm gush of fluid between my legs. The ward door was suddenly pushed open, and Ethan rushed in. I saw him frown, stepping toward me. “Ethan… save my baby…” Before I could finish, Chloe grabbed Ethan’s arm tightly. Clutching her own stomach, she sobbed pitifully: “Ethan, don’t blame Rachel… Loving you was my fault to begin with. If punishing me makes her happy, I don’t mind.” “But Ethan, my stomach hurts so bad… Is our baby going to be okay…?” Her tears streamed down her face as she whimpered. Ethan’s face turned incredibly pale. The slight worry in his eyes when he looked at me instantly turned into disgust. “Rachel, just because you lost your baby years ago doesn’t mean everyone has to suffer for your bitterness! You’ve gone too far this time!” “I couldn’t save our first child, but I will not lose this one!” He carefully picked Chloe up in his arms and rushed out of the room. The door slammed shut, leaving me entirely alone. The sticky, warm blood soaked through my clothes. I slowly closed my eyes. I knew this baby was gone too. When I was finally woken up by my phone, it was a voice message from Ethan. There was no apology, no worry. Just a casual, dismissive tone: “Chloe wanted to go to the beach, so I’m taking her trip. No one is watching your little performance anymore, so stop acting.” I slowly put my phone down and placed my hand over my empty stomach. My heart didn’t hurt anymore. There was only a vast, endless numbness. I opened my contacts, found my best friend, Lily, who lived abroad, and transferred all my business shares and assets to her. I had originally wanted to keep some dignity and get a peaceful divorce. But now, there was no need for that.

In the days that followed, besides recovering, I focused entirely on drafting the divorce agreement and finalizing the asset transfer. Once everything was settled, I went back to the apartment to pack my things. The place was a mess, filled with traces of the two of them. I ignored it all and packed quietly. There was no nostalgia, no regret. Halfway through packing, Ethan called. “Chloe is pregnant and it’s not convenient for her to move around. Pack your things and get out. She’s moving in.” I picked up our framed wedding photo from the wall, tossed it into the trash can, and said calmly: “Okay.” Silence fell on the other end of the line. He clearly didn’t expect me to agree so easily. After all, during our ten years together, whenever something like this happened, I would fight him tooth and nail. Ethan’s voice carried a hint of surprise: “This is our wedding house. Have you forgotten?” My hand paused for a second. A bone-chilling coldness swept through me. So he did remember what this home meant to me. Yet, he still chose to trample over my boundaries in the most humiliating way possible. I took a deep breath and said softly: “It’s fine. Do whatever you want.” My compliance seemed to anger him even more. “Fine! Great! Since you don’t care about anything anymore, then hand over your Managing Director position to Chloe too!” I didn’t say another word. I hung up, labeled my boxes, and called the moving company. My cruise was leaving in five hours. Just as I was about to walk out the door, a group of workers pushed their way in and started smashing the place up. I blocked them, frowning: “Who gave you permission to break into my apartment?” One of the workers replied without looking up: “Mr. Miller’s orders. We’re tearing this place down to remodel it exactly how Ms. Chloe wants it.” Right then, Chloe appeared at the doorway with a smug smile on her face: “Rachel, no matter how hard you try, Ethan still chose me in the end. Just give up.” Looking at her arrogant face, I found it hilarious. I didn’t bother arguing with her and walked toward the elevator. But as soon as the doors opened, I ran straight into Ethan. “Where are you going?” he demanded. “Business trip.” Hearing my reply, he relaxed his grip on my arm and said arrogantly: “Don’t think you can skip Chloe’s promotion ceremony by using a business trip as an excuse. You have to be there!” I didn’t even spare him a glance as I stepped into the elevator. After all, how could he know that I would be boarding a luxury cruise this afternoon? And once the cruise trip ended, I would fly straight to the country where Lily lived. I was never coming back. Ethan stared at my retreating figure, his voice filled with threats and spite: “Rachel, you better not regret this! Even if you come back crying and begging me on your knees, I won’t take you back!” The elevator doors closed, heading down. I completely shut out the place that held all my youth and agony. Ethan thought I was just throwing another tantrum and decided to play a game of chicken with me. By the time Chloe’s promotion meeting started, all the company executives had arrived. Chloe clutched her stomach, looking weakly at Ethan: “Ethan, is Rachel not coming because of me? It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have accepted this promotion…” Ethan’s brows furrowed deeply, his face dark with anger. “She’s crossed the line this time, bringing her personal tantrums into a board meeting. When she gets back, I’ll make sure she apologizes to you.” He spoke with absolute certainty, as if I would walk through that door in the next second, crying and admitting my mistakes. Just then, there was a soft knock on the door. The receptionist walked in holding a package. “Mr. Miller, a courier just delivered this. They said it’s a special gift for you and must be signed by you personally.” Ethan’s eyes lit up slightly, and a smirk played on his lips. He was sure this was my way of begging for forgiveness. Once again, he thought he had won. With a hint of anticipation in his voice, he said: “Open it.” The assistant opened the package, but in the next second, her expression froze. Inside, there were no flowers, no apology note. Just two documents. A signed divorce agreement, and a share transfer document.

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In the final split-second of the grouping game, Daphne didn’t hesitate. She shoved me away. For the tenth time that night, she singled Jesse out of the crowd and pulled him into her arms. Jesse—my half-brother, the son of the woman who tore my parents’ marriage apart. She had turned a simple party game into a private chase between the two of them. Her excuse was always the same: “Losers have to take the penalty, Logan. He and his mother treated you like garbage, so I’m just giving him a taste of his own medicine.” But when Jesse, dripping wet and shivering under the giant suspended water bucket, finally broke down and sobbed, her face changed. She lunged forward, throwing her body over his to shield him. The lounge fell dead silent. The look on everyone’s faces made me feel like the ultimate punchline. “Look at how the campus queen looks at his little brother! Are Logan and Daphne even actually together? I swear those relationship photos he posts are AI-generated. Why else has Daphne never once acknowledged them?” “For real, Logan’s Instagram feed is just a collection of a desperate simp’s delusions. It’s wild!” I looked at Daphne, waiting for her to say something, but her eyes were locked entirely on Jesse. Her voice carried a manufactured sharpness: “What are you crying for? Logan didn’t even cry when your mother kicked him and his mom out.” But I saw it. I saw the raw, aching tenderness in her eyes. I swallowed the bitter lump in my throat, pulled out my phone, and wiped my feed. “You’re right,” I whispered to no one in particular. “Daphne and I were never actually together.” Maybe it was time to listen to my mother, leave the country, and accept the family match she’d arranged for me. … Daphne used to despise home-wreckers. When she first learned that my mother and I had been cast out of our own home because of Jesse and his mother, her protective rage was terrifying. She had literally grabbed a chair, marched over to my father’s office, and cracked his head open. Since then, she’d never given Jesse a single break. She targeted him at every turn, fighting my battles for me. But now, amidst the snickers of our classmates, she was gently, helplessly wiping the tears from my bastard brother’s face. Once Jesse’s sobbing quieted to a whimper, Daphne finally let out a sigh of relief. She slid back over and sat down beside me. “What were you guys talking about?” she asked. Before I could utter a word, our classmates chimed in, their voices dripping with mockery. “We were just saying how you and Logan are basically strangers.” “Yeah, Daphne, did you know? Logan’s been posting couple goals on his feed every other day. Talk about living in a fantasy world. It’s hilarious!” Daphne’s face was half-shadowed by the dim neon lighting of the lounge. Her expression was unreadable, her tone utterly detached. “Really?” she said, swirling her drink. “Then he should probably delete them.” The lounge erupted into a chorus of laughter. “See! I told you! Why would a girl like Daphne ever date a clinger like him?” “Honestly, she and Jesse make way more sense. Enemies to lovers, right?” In the middle of the mockery, my eyes stung with hot, rising tears. Over the last two years, Daphne had never explicitly forbidden me from posting about us. But whenever I begged her to post something in return, she’d always offer the same rehearsed line: “My social media is strictly professional, Logan. It’s for my professors and internship coordinators. It’s not appropriate to post relationship stuff. Your posts are enough for both of us.” So I would settle for the bare minimum, asking her to at least like my photos. She never did. And when I called her out on it, she would pull me close, whispering, “You know I hate scrolling through social media. As long as the people who matter know we’re together, who cares?” And so, for two years, I performed a solo play to an empty theater. Sensing the sudden shift in my mood, Daphne reached under the table, her fingers slipping into mine, squeezing reassuringly. “I was just joking,” she murmured, her voice soft and coaxing. “They’re just being assholes. Don’t take it to heart.” “I just took on a major research project under my adviser. If the department heads think I’m distracted by a public relationship, it’ll hurt my standing.” “Be good, Logan. Just wait until the semester ends, and I’ll explain everything to them.” But this time, the words didn’t soothe me. They felt like hollow, well-worn scripts. My nails bit deep into my palms. Forcing down the sob catching in my chest, I whispered, “Don’t bother.” Right there, in front of her, I opened my profile and deleted every single post, every photo, every mention of her name. I stood up to leave, my hands trembling as I shot a text to my mother across the Atlantic: Mom, I’ll take the flight. I’m ready to move and meet the person you chose for me. The moment I stepped out of the lounge, the cool night air hit me, and the tears I’d been holding back finally broke. Before I could make it to the curb, a firm hand gripped my wrist. It was Daphne, panting slightly. “Logan, where are you going? We agreed I was driving you home!” I wrenched my arm back with everything I had. “Don’t touch me!” Daphne froze, finally seeing the tear tracks shining on my face. Her breath hitched. “Are you seriously crying over a deleted post?” “Daphne, you’re in love with Jesse, aren’t you?” “Are you insane?” she snapped instantly. “He’s the bastard who ruined your family. I despise him!” She stopped, her posture softening as she stepped closer to wrap her arms around me. Her tone turned into that familiar, soothing caress. “Look, I’m sorry. Stop being difficult, let’s just go back inside.” “I’ll go back in there and tell them we’re together, okay? Right now.” Looking into her eyes, I saw the ghost of the girl who had always put me first. I remembered freshman year of high school, when I had slapped Jesse’s mother during an argument and my father locked me in my room for three days without food. It was Daphne who climbed the trellis to my window, sneaking in meals and eventually calling the police to force my father to let us go. Sophomore year, when Jesse played the victim, turning the entire grade against me. Daphne didn’t say a word; she walked right into the classroom, smashed his desk, threw his backpack in the dumpster, and told him, That’s what actual bullying looks like. Junior year, when Jesse lured me up into the mountain trails on a false pretext and abandoned me. Daphne drove all night—ignoring the fact that she had her SATs the next morning—and carried me down the mountain path on her back, step by painful step. Those memories were etched into my bones. My heart wavered, aching with the desperate hope that the girl who carried me through the dark wouldn’t do this to me. “Come on,” she whispered, tugging gently. “Everyone’s waiting. Once this is over, we’ll go home together.” I clenched my fists and let her lead me back into the private room. The second the door swung open, a massive slab of cake slammed directly into my face. Thick icing clogged my nose and mouth, suffocating me. The sugary grease stung my eyes, and the sticky weight of it dragged down my clothes. I stood there, utterly humiliated. As I blindly tried to scrape the frosting from my eyes, the room exploded into vicious laughter. “Oh my god, look at him! That is priceless! He’s actually trying to eat it off his face, that’s disgusting!” “Classic Daphne! One little sweet talk and he comes running back like a puppy. Otherwise, we wouldn’t even have gotten this show!” The shame burned through my chest. Then I saw Daphne. She was leaning against the bar, her shoulders shaking with laughter. My voice shook, thick with tears. “Why?” Before Daphne could answer, Jesse’s smug, lighthearted voice cut through. “Come on, Logan. Everyone took their punishment tonight except you. You ran away. That’s not fair, is it?” “So I asked Daphne to bring you back.” My mind went entirely blank. I stared at Daphne, desperately searching her face, but her warmth had vanished, replaced by a cold, detached look. “Logan,” she said flatly, “if you play the game, you have to follow the rules.” Something inside me shattered, a clean, silent break. She hadn’t brought me back to clear the air. She hadn’t brought me back to declare her love. She brought me back because Jesse said it wasn’t fair. I was brought back to be their entertainment. A soft sigh sounded beside me as a heavy jacket was thrown over my head. Daphne’s voice was neutral, her expression carefully blank. “Clean yourself up. Stop making a scene.” But as the jacket slid down, my eyes caught her exposed collarbone. Written there, in bold, black Sharpie, were the words: Jesse’s property. Daphne noticed where I was looking. She let out a soft, amused scoff. “You missed it. I lost a drinking game to Jesse while you were gone. This was my dare. Kid’s got a weird mind, honestly. I don’t know what goes on in his head.” But Daphne’s tolerance for alcohol was legendary. She was a vault. I remembered a fraternity fundraiser where she systematically drank an entire table of recruiters under the table without her cheeks even flushing. And Jesse? If I remembered correctly, he was severely allergic to alcohol. If Daphne hadn’t wanted to lose, Jesse could never have outdrunk her. When we played games in private, she wouldn’t even let me draw a tiny flower on her wrist. Yet here she was, letting Jesse write something so degrading on her bare skin. The pain in my chest was dull and heavy, like my lungs had been stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t speak. But Jesse wasn’t done playing. “Hey, you deserved it for throwing me under the bus earlier! That mark stays on for at least a month, Daphne! I’m getting back at you for everything. If I don’t make you cry by the end of this semester, my name isn’t Jesse!” Daphne smirked. “Oh yeah? Who was the one crying like a lost puppy five minutes ago?” He let out an embarrassed shriek and lunged at her, swatting at her arm. In the scuffle, his shoulder shoved hard against me. I stumbled backward, the sharp edge of the mahogany table cutting violently into my lower back. The pain was so sharp it drew cold sweat on my forehead. Through my blurred vision, I watched them. Daphne was laughing, batting him away, completely oblivious to the fact that I was hurting. The last embers of my hope died. She kept saying she hated him. But her body, her laughter, her focus—they all belonged to him now. The background chatter of the room drifted back in: “Daphne’s basically throwing herself at him. Unlike some people who beg for scraps and still get ignored. If I were Logan, I’d take the hint and leave. It’s embarrassing.” “Wait, if Daphne likes Jesse, why was she always so brutal to him before?” “Dude, you don’t get girls. When you like someone, you pick on them. That way, they’re forced to look at you.” In the past, I would have laughed that off. You don’t hurt the people you love. But now, the truth was staring me in the face. People change. Hearts rot. A notification vibrated in my pocket. It was a flight confirmation from my mother. Logan, the ticket is booked. Tomorrow morning. I looked up at Daphne, who had already forgotten I was in the room, deeply engrossed in a new round of some party game with Jesse. I looked down and typed back: Okay. If her heart had moved on, I didn’t want the leftover pieces anyway. By the time I got back to our shared apartment, the rain was pouring, soaking me to the bone. Daphne’s text thread remained completely silent. She hadn’t even realized I was gone. I briefly thought about sending her a formal breakup text, but decided against it. In the eyes of the world, we had never been together anyway. Then, a special notification popped up. Daphne had posted on her Instagram. It was a photo of two hands, fingers tightly locked. No caption. Immediately beneath it, her roommate had posted a video. In the clip, Daphne and Jesse were holding their breath, their fingers still intertwined. Daphne leaned in, tickling his side, making him squirm and laugh. “You’re cheating! You know I’m ticklish there!” he gasped. The roommate’s caption read: The tension in this room is insane. I am literally screaming! I stared at the screen until my fingers turned white from gripping the phone. So, she was capable of posting her life online. She just didn’t want to post me. I don’t know how long I sat there on the cold hardwood floor. Until the front door was kicked open with a violent bang. Daphne stormed in, her eyes wild with rage. She grabbed my collar, dragging me to my feet, and shoved her phone in my face. “Did you do this? Did you leak the story about Jesse being a bastard? You actually wrote that he’s trying to steal your girlfriend! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? He’s so hysterical he’s threatening to jump!” I looked blankly at the screen. It was an old account of mine that I hadn’t used in years. “I didn’t write that,” I said quietly. “It’s your account! Who else could have done it!” Daphne’s face was flushed, her jaw tight with disgust. “I’ve helped you get back at him so many times, Logan. Isn’t that enough? This is someone’s life! How could you be this petty?” “Delete the post right now, and post a public apology clarifying everything!” My nails dug into my palms. “Clarify? Clarify what, Daphne?” “Even if I did write it, is any of it a lie? Is he not a bastard? Did his mother not destroy my family?” Daphne looked at me like I was a monster. “He was just a kid! He didn’t choose his mother! He shouldn’t have to pay for her sins. If he had a choice, do you think he’d choose to be born illegitimate?” Seeing my silence, her expression went completely cold. “Fine. If you won’t clear his name, I’ll do it myself.” She snatched my phone out of my hand. I lunged to grab it back, but she held it high, pinning me against the wall with her body weight. Right in front of my face, she typed out a statement on my account: Everything I said about Jesse was a lie born out of jealousy. His mother never ruined my family. He is my brother, and Daphne and I were never together. I projected a fantasy of us being in a relationship. My accusations of him being a homewrecker are completely baseless. She pressed send. Then she mass-forwarded it to our entire school group chat. I lost it. I screamed, I thrashed, I pushed her with everything I had. My mother, being overseas, might not see the gossip sites, but she kept an eye on my social feed. If she saw this… the sheer humiliation she would feel on my behalf was too much to bear. I fought wildly to get the phone back, but Daphne caught my wrists and locked them behind my back, trapping me against her chest. “Shh, calm down,” she whispered, her voice suddenly switching back to that tender, suffocating warmth. “Once this blows over, it’ll be fine. Let Jesse’s head clear, and I’ll explain things to everyone. Then we’ll get married, okay? Just you and me.” With her free hand, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black velvet box. Inside was a ring. The ring I had dreamed of for two long years. Tears streamed down my face. I had imagined her proposing a thousand times, but never like this. No romance, no flowers, just a rushed gesture in a cold room, the ring clearly the wrong size. Even when she spoke of marriage, her mind was entirely on saving another man. My phone started ringing, breaking the silence. “Daphne! Jesse’s on the ledge of the dorm window! He won’t come down unless you come right now!” Daphne’s face went pale. She shoved the velvet box into my hand, gave me a hurried, desperate look, and ran out the door without another word. I stood in the empty apartment, the heavy silence settling around me. I looked at the ring, then let out a hollow laugh that quickly turned into a sob. “No, Daphne,” I whispered to the empty hallway. “I’m not marrying you.” I threw the ring directly into the trash can. I slid down to the floor, picked up my phone, and began deleting the post she had forced onto my feed. But the damage was done. The notifications were already pouring in—insults, threats, mockery. With shaking hands, I blocked the incoming messages. Then, I dug through my cloud storage. I found the voice memo from the night Daphne agreed to be my girlfriend. I had been so ecstatic, so afraid she’d take it back, that I made her repeat her confession so I could record it. I never thought I’d use it as a weapon. I uploaded the audio file, alongside the video of Daphne and Jesse tickling each other, to my feed. Underneath, I wrote: You can decide who the real liar is. Daphne and I were together for two years. But as of today, we are done. The internet erupted. Within seconds, Daphne’s name flashed on my screen. I blocked her number immediately, grabbed my suitcase, and walked out to the waiting Uber. As we drove down the highway, I saw her blue sports car speeding in the opposite direction, hurtling toward the apartment. For a brief second, our cars aligned, and I caught a glimpse of her panicked face. Goodbye, Daphne, I thought, looking away. We are finally over.

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