Author: Momo Chan

Pregnancy three months in, I was in a severe car accident. I called my husband, Ethan, but he simply condemned me impatiently: “Lily, will you ever quit with the theatrics? Inventing a car accident just to get me to come home? Seriously?” Just as the call was about to disconnect, I heard him turn and say to another woman: “Don’t worry, darling, it’s just a scratch. The doctor will be right here.” The searing pain ripped through my abdomen, and a sudden, warm gush drained the last bit of heat from me. Our baby was gone. I was too greedy. I thought one life could make him turn back to me, but I was abandoned once again. I suddenly smiled. Maybe it was for the best. He finally didn’t have to be annoyed by me anymore. And I no longer had to pretend to love him. Lily POV When I woke up, the world was upside down. I was trapped in the twisted driver’s seat, an agonizing pain in my abdomen threatening to tear me apart. In that moment, I felt something incredibly important being ripped from my body. It was the secret I’d kept for three months. My hands trembled as I painstakingly fumbled for my phone amidst the shattered glass. The screen was cracked, but it still lit up. The name at the top of my contacts: Ethan. He was my husband, and my only family in this world. The phone rang for a long time before he finally answered. “What is it?” His voice was deep and cold, laced with impatience. “Ethan… help me…” My voice was hoarse and broken, a sob catching in my throat, “I’m on the Coast Highway… I was in a car accident, there’s so much blood…” A flurry of footsteps sounded from his end, followed by a woman’s delicate sniffle: “Ethan, it hurts so much, am I going to be disfigured?” Ethan’s tone instantly changed, becoming soft and anxious: “Don’t worry, it’s just a scratch. The doctor will be right here.” When he spoke to me again, his voice turned icy cold. “Lily, will you ever quit with the theatrics? Inventing a car accident just to get me to come home? Seriously?” My heart felt like it was being squeezed by a giant hand: “I’m not… it’s real, save the baby…” “Baby?” Ethan gave a cold laugh. “What baby? Are you still dreaming? You used to cry over a paper cut. This car accident story is too fake. I’m busy. Stop being so unreasonable.” “Beep—beep—” The call disconnected. My phone slipped from my fingertips, falling into the growing pool of blood. I closed my eyes in despair. I’d forgotten. In Ethan’s eyes, I, Lily, was a conniving woman, but Scarlett? She was the frail, helpless damsel in distress who needed his constant protection. The cramping in my abdomen hit its peak, and a hot gush of blood stole the last bit of warmth from me. In the last second before my consciousness faded, I thought: Ethan, this time, I won’t cause any more trouble. Truly, no more trouble. The hospital hallway was blindingly white. “Where’s the family? Why haven’t they come to sign yet? Look at the time!” The nurse’s anxious shouts echoed in my ears. I painstakingly opened my eyes; the lights on the ceiling made me feel nauseous. “Doctor, she’s awake!” The attending physician, Dr. Miller, was a middle-aged man. His brows were furrowed, and his gaze towards me was filled with sympathy and solemnity. “Ms. Reed, have you reached your family? Although the emergency miscarriage surgery is complete, you’ve lost a lot of blood, and furthermore…” Dr. Miller paused, seemingly choosing his words carefully, “we found some abnormal indicators in your blood tests. It’s confirmed to be acute myeloid leukemia. You need chemotherapy immediately.” The air was dead silent. I lay on the hospital bed, my face even paler than the sheets. I reached down to touch my flat abdomen, empty now, even that faint connection was severed. Emergency miscarriage. Leukemia. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor, always picking on the most unfortunate. “No family,” I said, my voice as light as smoke. “I’ll sign myself.” Dr. Miller was taken aback: “This is a serious matter. Where’s your husband? The kind person who brought you to the hospital said they saw his number at the top of your phone.” “He’s dead,” I stated, my voice devoid of emotion. Dr. Miller seemed choked. He looked at me, a woman so weak she looked as if she could die at any moment, sighed, and handed me the pen. My hand trembled as I held the pen, every word I wrote was shaky and distorted. After signing, I felt as if all my strength had drained away, and I collapsed onto the pillow. My phone vibrated on the bedside table. “Ethan” flashed across the screen. Before, I would have answered ecstatically, even if all I heard were cold words. But now, it just felt like noise. I pressed the answer button. Before I could even speak, a barrage of questions was hurled at me. “Lily, where the hell have you been? Scarlett got scared looking for your cat. If you don’t come back and apologize, you can kiss your spot as my wife goodbye.” So it was for Scarlett. Always Scarlett. I looked at the IV drip, and suddenly chuckled. “What’s so funny?” Ethan seemed infuriated by my laughter. “I’m talking to you about something serious!” “Ethan,” I interrupted him, my tone frighteningly calm, “You don’t need to kick me out. I’ve already cleared out the spot.” “What do you mean?” “It means,” I said, looking out at the dark night sky, “I want a divorce.”

Ethan POV It was already three in the morning when I returned to the mansion. The living room lights were off, everything was pitch black. Normally, no matter how late it was, Lily would leave a warm yellow floor lamp on, curled up on the sofa waiting for me. She’d hand me a hot coffee the moment I walked in. Today, there were no lights, no coffee, and no one. I irritably yanked off my tie and tossed my jacket onto the sofa. “Trying to attract my attention by pretending not to care,” I scoffed coldly. I assumed Lily was still sulking about me hanging up on her earlier. She was always like this, narrow-minded, easily jealous. The moment I showed Scarlett even a little kindness, she would turn the house upside down. I went upstairs and pushed open the bedroom door. Empty. The bed was perfectly made, not a single crease, as if no one had ever slept in it. My brow twitched. I saw a document on the bedside table. In the moonlight, five bolded, capitalized words on the cover stabbed at my eyes—”Divorce Agreement.” Was this woman insane? I picked up the agreement and flipped it open. Relinquishing all assets. She wanted nothing but a few clothes. The house, the cars, the Reed Group shares, even the jewelry I’d given her over the years—all left behind. And in the signature section, the handwriting was somewhat sloppy, with a few dried bloodstains. Blood? My heart inexplicably tightened, then was immediately drowned by a surge of anger. Another one of her tricks! Using red ink to fake blood, using divorce to force my hand. Lily, is this all you’ve got? I pulled out my phone and dialed Lily’s number. “Sorry, the subscriber you dialed is currently unavailable.” “Fine, just fine.” I laughed in anger, slamming the agreement onto the floor. “Lily, go ahead and hide your whole life. Don’t come back begging me!” I was woken up the next morning by Scarlett’s call. “Ethan, if I accidentally lost the cat you gave Lily… is Lily angry? My head feels so dizzy, do I have a concussion…?” I rubbed my temples, suppressing the irritation bubbling inside me: “Stop overthinking. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up.” “I’m at the hospital.” When I arrived, Scarlett was sitting in a wheelchair, her leg wrapped in bandages. It was just a scratch, but she was bandaged up like she’d broken her leg. “Ethan!” Scarlett, her eyes red-rimmed, threw herself into my arms. I instinctively flinched, the “bloodstains” I’d seen last night inexplicably flashing in my mind. “What did the doctor say?” I asked. “The doctor said I need bed rest… Oh, right, where’s Lily? I want to apologize to her in person, I shouldn’t have tried to catch her cat…” My face darkened: “Don’t bother with her.” Just then, a hospital bed was pushed down the corridor. The person lying on it was extremely thin, wearing an oxygen mask, her hands covered in needle marks. My gaze casually swept over her, and I froze, as if struck by lightning. That pale, lifeless face was unmistakably Lily’s.

Lily POV I was woken by pain. The chemotherapy side effects hit hard, like a thousand ants were crawling and biting deep within my bones. I opened my eyes, and a tall figure appeared in my blurry vision. Before I could even make him out, his cold voice cut through the air. “You’re really going all out for your act. Where did you learn this trick? Pretending to have a terminal illness?” My vision slowly focused. Ethan stood at the foot of the bed, looking at me arrogantly, his eyes filled with mockery and disdain. Scarlett sat beside him in a wheelchair, looking at me with feigned timidity. “Lily, don’t scare Ethan. Please, get up,” Scarlett said softly. “I know you hate me, but I really didn’t mean to…” I pulled off my oxygen mask, my throat as parched as if I’d swallowed sand. “Get out.” Just one word, but it took all my remaining strength. Ethan’s face turned dark. He quickly walked over and roughly grabbed my wrist. “Lily! How long are you going to keep this up? Scarlett’s leg is hurt badly and she still came to see you, what kind of attitude is that?” His grip was strong, right on my IV site. Blood immediately surged back, staining the IV tube crimson. I let out a muffled groan of pain, cold sweat beading on my forehead. “Let go…” “No!” Ethan glared at me. “I want you to apologize to Scarlett right now!” “Ethan, are you blind?” I looked up, those eyes once full of love now only held a desolate emptiness. “Can’t you see I’m bleeding?” Ethan froze, looking down. Fresh blood dripped down my hand, spreading into bright red stains on the clean white sheets. The blood was too real, too stark to be mere red ink. He seemed to instinctively loosen his grip. “Ethan…” Scarlett suddenly clutched her chest, gasping for air. “I… I can’t breathe…” Ethan’s attention instantly shifted. He turned to support Scarlett. “What’s wrong? What’s bothering you?” “Maybe it’s the strong smell of medicine here, Lily…” Scarlett leaned weakly against him. Ethan looked back at me, his gaze cold: “If you love the hospital so much, feel free to stay here as long as you like. Come talk to me when you’ve learned to behave.” With that, he picked up Scarlett and walked away without a backward glance. I watched his retreating back, and my tears finally broke free, falling in large drops. Ethan, you’ll never know, this might be the last time I ever see you. Perhaps it was for the best. Now, I truly had given up all hope. Over the next week, Ethan didn’t reappear. My body grew weaker. Chemotherapy caused massive hair loss, so I just bought a hat to cover it. Dr. Miller urged me to contact family, as the upcoming bone marrow transplant required a match. I shook my head. I was an orphan; where would I find a relative to match? That afternoon, the hospital room door opened. It wasn’t Ethan, but Ethan’s male assistant, Mark. Mark looked at my skeletal form on the bed, a flicker of something that looked like regret in his eyes, but he remained strictly professional as he produced a document. “Ms. Reed, Mr. Reed said that as long as you sign this understanding letter, admitting that the car accident was due to your own mishandling and had nothing to do with Scarlett, he would agree… not to divorce.”

Lily POV I froze for a moment, then began to tremble with laughter. So that was it. The car involved in the accident that day belonged to Scarlett? No wonder Scarlett was also on the Coast Highway that day, no wonder she only had minor scrapes. Ethan was afraid I’d sue Scarlett, so he came to silence me. “Not divorce?” I asked, as if I’d heard the funniest joke. “What makes him think I still care about being his wife?” Mark looked a little awkward: “Mr. Reed said you shouldn’t be stubborn. Without the Reed family, you won’t even be able to afford your medical bills.” “Tell him,” I pulled the already signed divorce agreement from under my pillow and flung it at Mark, “I’ve already signed it. I can afford these medical bills even if I have to sell my blood! Tell him to take his first love and disappear as far away as possible!” Mark scurried away in a hurry. I pulled out the IV needle in my hand. Blood welled up, but I felt no pain. I couldn’t die in this hospital. If I died here, that lunatic Ethan would surely discard my ashes anywhere, or force me to make room for Scarlett. I wanted to find a clean place to go quietly. That evening, I seized the opportunity during the nurses’ shift change and secretly slipped out of the hospital. The wind on the Coast Highway was strong, carrying the salty scent of the ocean. This was where Ethan and I first met, and also where I had my car accident and miscarriage. Round and round, the end had returned to the beginning. Just then, a black luxury car screeched to a halt beside me. The door opened, and Ethan, his face contorted with fury, rushed out and grabbed my arm. “Lily! You think you’re so smart? Daring to escape from the hospital?” Ethan must have just received the call from the hospital about a missing patient. He probably drove here inexplicably, never expecting to actually find me. In the car’s headlights, he saw me. Thin. Too thin. Like a fragile sheet of paper, ready to crumble in the wind. I looked up, my pale face beneath the brim of my hat devoid of any expression. “Ethan, let go.” “Come back with me!” Ethan seemed panicked. “As long as you’re obedient, I won’t pursue what happened before…” “Not pursue?” I laughed, tears streaming down my face, then a sudden gush of blood sprayed from my mouth, staining Ethan’s white shirt. Ethan’s pupils seemed to constrict, and he froze. “Lily?!” My body softly collapsed, like a kite whose string had been cut. This time, I wasn’t acting. Ethan caught my falling body, his palm touching something wet and warm. It was blood. An incessant flow of blood, gushing from my nose and the corners of my mouth, unstoppable. “Ethan…” In his arms, my eyes unfocused as I gazed at the night sky. “If there’s a next life… I never want to meet you again…”

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A massive sandstorm was about to hit the Crimson Sands Wilderness, but my husband, Mark, suddenly suggested we take a family trip there. He wanted to take maternity photos for his sister-in-law, Tiffany, who was due soon. He believed it would help her win “Top Pregnancy Influencer” and become a million-follower influencer. But going there now, with the sandstorm imminent, meant everyone would be swallowed by the swirling sands. We’d all die together in that desolate place. In my past life, as a geological engineer, I tried desperately to stop them. All I got was Mark’s furious retort: “If you make one more fuss, get out of this house!” My in-laws, David and Susan, also yelled at me: “You just can’t stand to see Tiffany do well, can you? Afraid she’ll become a big influencer and overshadow you!” Ignoring their insults, I called the authorities and reported them for trespassing in a restricted zone, finally stopping them. Tiffany gave birth smoothly, and the whole family was overjoyed. But at the baby’s welcome home party, she stabbed me in the back. When the police arrived, Mark and the entire family gave a unified statement: “She’s mentally unstable. She suddenly went crazy and tried to kill Tiffany, so Tiffany acted in self-defense!” Tiffany seized the opportunity to play the victim, truly becoming an influencer. The whole family lived an enviable life. My mom, Eleanor, tried to get justice for me, but she was slandered, accused of extortion and causing trouble. She eventually suffered a fatal stroke on the street, overcome with grief and rage. Only after I died did I realize it was all Tiffany’s scheme. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day Mark suggested the family trip to the Crimson Sands Wilderness. This time, I’d just watch these ungrateful monsters vanish in the sandstorm!

As I lay dying, barely clinging to life, Tiffany crouched down, a cold smile playing on her lips as she leaned close to my ear: “Sarah, I already bought life insurance for everyone in the family. That’s why I suggested the Crimson Sands Wilderness. Only if you all die can I get the insurance money.” “You ruined my get-rich-quick dream, so go and be buried with my path to wealth!” Tiffany plunged the utility knife into my lower abdomen again, and blood gushed out. Filled with bitterness and fury, I closed my eyes amidst the joyful sounds of the celebration party. The next second, a sharp voice exploded in my ear: “Sarah, are you really that jealous of me?” “The Crimson Sands Wilderness has such amazing scenery. If I take photos there, I’m sure I’ll be named ‘Top Pregnancy Influencer.’” “You’re just afraid I’ll become a huge influencer and make you look completely useless, aren’t you?” I froze, a sudden realization washing over me: I had been reborn. And I was back to the day Mark wanted to take the whole family to the Crimson Sands Wilderness for Tiffany’s sake. Everyone in the family looked at me with cold eyes. The sunlight in the living room was dazzling, yet I felt a chill spread through my body. I gritted my teeth, my eyes stinging as I looked at them. In my previous life, I was willing to sacrifice my reputation, even calling the authorities to keep them safe. Afterward, Tiffany had a safe delivery, and the whole family was fine. But what I got in return was a knife in my back at the baby’s welcome home party. Recalling everything from my past life, I smoothed my brows, a slow smile curving my lips: “If you’re so determined to go, then go ahead.” “I have work tomorrow, so I won’t worry about it.” Seeing my calm demeanor, Tiffany was momentarily stunned. But then she quickly smiled: “I knew it! It’s just a trip, Sarah would definitely support it.” I listened to her words, a cold laugh echoing in my heart. A once-in-a-century super sandstorm was about to hit the Crimson Sands Wilderness. Once they went in, it wouldn’t be an influencer dream waiting for them. It would be the entire family buried alive by yellow sand, their bodies never to be found. But you can’t reason with people who are determined to destroy themselves. If they want to die, let them. I was about to go back to my bedroom to rest when Mark suddenly stopped me, his face grim: “No, you have to come with us.” Susan looked puzzled: “Why does she need to come? She’ll just get in the way.” Mark sneered: “She’s always stirring up drama. What if we leave, and she reports us for trespassing in a restricted zone the moment our backs are turned?” “Don’t you remember? Tiffany once mentioned using DIY baby food to feed the baby, and Sarah went crazy, repeatedly emphasizing the dangers of homemade formula. She insisted Tiffany listen to her.” The whole family’s eyes on me immediately changed. A wave of coldness washed over me. Before, I’d warned them because improper DIY baby food could lead to developmental delays for the baby. If Tiffany had followed through, it would have harmed the child. That’s why I repeatedly stressed the importance of proper, scientifically balanced feeding, using commercial formula. I never thought they’d see it as me just being a busybody. “We’ll buy her ticket too. She’ll come with us.” Mark grabbed my phone, giving me no time to react, and bought my ticket directly. Then, he locked me in the bedroom and told the others outside: “Alright, now we don’t have to worry about her messing things up.” “Tiffany, quickly think about what poses you’ll strike at Crimson Sands Wilderness, and how to get the best photos!” The living room immediately erupted in cheers, as if they had already returned from the Crimson Sands Wilderness with fame and fortune. But they didn’t know that I had received deployment orders from the Geological Bureau half a month ago. I was tasked with setting up monitoring equipment in the core zone of the Crimson Sands Wilderness, and a helicopter would arrive on time to evacuate me. As for them, with no rescue measures, I wondered if they’d still be laughing when the sandstorm hit. My eyes stinging, I shakily dialed my mom’s number. Recalling how in my past life, Eleanor tried to get justice for me, only to be slandered, accused of extortion, and eventually died of a stroke on the street, tears streamed down my face. This time, I would make these ungrateful monsters pay for their actions! They must be annihilated! The next morning, everyone gathered at the airport. After landing, we drove straight towards the Crimson Sands Wilderness. Tiffany was busy touching up her makeup and taking selfies. Mark was attentively holding an umbrella and offering her water. Susan kept taking photos with her phone, muttering, “My Tiffany is going to be a big influencer.” Just then, everyone’s phones chimed with a “ding–.” Emergency news alert: [RED ALERT: MASSIVE SANDSTORM IMMINENT IN CRIMSON SANDS WILDERNESS. ALL PERSONNEL MUST EVACUATE IMMEDIATELY!]

In my past life, it was precisely because I knew the sandstorm was coming that I desperately urged everyone not to go to the Crimson Sands Wilderness. Now, without my interference, they had actually entered deep into the Crimson Sands Wilderness. For them to return safely, it would take nothing short of a miracle. After getting out of the car, Tiffany handed me a bottle of water, her face full of false remorse: “Sarah, I’m so sorry, pulling everyone into this adventure.” “I just wanted so badly to win ‘Top Pregnancy Influencer’ and become an influencer, to bring our family a good life. You won’t blame me, will you?” Before I could speak, Mark snatched the water bottle from her hand: “Tiffany, you didn’t do anything wrong, why are you apologizing?” “Selfish people like her don’t deserve your water!” Susan also chimed in to comfort her: “That’s right, we all came willingly. Once you’re famous, we’ll all enjoy the benefits.” “You remember us, and we’ll remember your kindness. Not like some people, who have hearts of stone.” Listening to their sarcastic remarks, I just smirked. Oh, wonderful! Just wonderful! I wondered if they would still be able to say such things when the sandstorm came crashing down. Tiffany’s influencer dream would cost them their most precious lives. This moment of absurd fantasy was destined to bring them the bitter fruit of being buried in the desert. They ate snacks and drank sodas, treating the Crimson Sands Wilderness like a photo op for their social media. But the wind grew stronger, and the sand blotted out the sun, visibility dropping rapidly. “Latest update: The sandstorm has been upgraded to a red alert. This area will be completely swallowed up soon.” “We need to turn back immediately, we might still make it.” Mark said, looking at his phone, his face grim. Susan was incredulous: “No… impossible. Isn’t the Crimson Sands Wilderness a tourist spot now?” At this moment, everyone began to panic. “What do we do? If we get trapped in the sandstorm, are we all going to die?” “Mark, quickly think of something! I don’t want to die here!” Mark gritted his teeth, his forehead covered in cold sweat: “To survive, we have to rush out before the storm fully hits.” I watched everything unfold before me, finding it amusing. Before, I had patiently urged them not to come, but they thought I was meddling. Now, with disaster upon them, they finally started to get anxious. Just then, Tiffany suddenly spoke with confidence: “Don’t worry, everyone, I know a place to shelter from the wind, it’s absolutely safe!” “We’ll leave after the storm passes!” Hearing her, everyone immediately breathed a sigh of relief. As if Tiffany’s words were gospel truth, they all believed her without question. I knew that in their eyes, I was just a meddling, malicious sister-in-law. And Tiffany, she was the perfect family member. I would manage their diets, encouraging them to eat less oil and spice, but Tiffany wouldn’t. I specifically got a sandstorm warning from my colleagues at the Geological Bureau, but it meant less than Tiffany’s casual “It’ll be fine.” Even my reminder for her to cut down on screen time and get more rest would be twisted into me deliberately targeting her. “Tiffany always has a solution. Not like some people, who just stand there like idiots when something happens, completely useless.” Mark said excitedly, as if he had grasped a lifeline, while not forgetting to belittle me. I sneered inwardly, clutching my phone. Here, with sand everywhere, barely able to tell north from south, and you really believe Tiffany can find some kind of shelter?

Unsurprisingly, The “safe place” Tiffany mentioned was completely useless. The sandstorm grew fiercer, visibility dropping to almost zero. Everyone’s faces turned pale. Every howl of the wind outside the window made their faces whiter. “Are we really not going to get out?” Susan asked, her face filled with despair, but only received a harsh, “Shut up!” from Mark. If they hadn’t insisted on recklessly venturing into the restricted zone, none of this would be happening. The car swayed violently in the sandstorm, then finally sputtered to a halt. Mark sat in the driver’s seat, his face ashen, looking at the swirling sand in disbelief: “How could this happen?” Susan tried to push open the car door and run out, but Mark grabbed her arm. “Are you crazy? Going out there is certain death!” The others slumped in their seats, trembling. This was a once-in-a-century super sandstorm. Encountering it meant certain death. I watched them with a cold smile, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Weren’t you all so eager to come to this godforsaken place with Tiffany to die? Why are you all cowering now? At that moment, Mark forced himself to shout: “Don’t panic! We still have the car. When the wind dies down a bit, we’ll find somewhere to shelter.” Everyone’s expressions immediately brightened. But before they could do anything, a dull thud echoed in the distance. A car not far away was overturned. Mark’s face turned even paler. He finally couldn’t hold it in and roared at Tiffany: “This is all your fault! Insisting on taking these stupid maternity photos!” Tiffany also lost her temper: “Weren’t you the most enthusiastic about it? Now you’re blaming me?” “I was enthusiastic? You were the one who kept talking about ‘Top Pregnancy Influencer’ every single day!” “Enough!” Susan shrieked, cutting them off. “Is this really the time to argue?!” Tiffany huddled in the back seat, her eyes suddenly darting to me. She pointed and yelled: “It’s all Sarah’s fault! She’s a geological engineer, she must have known about the sandstorm early!” “But she didn’t stop us, she just wanted to watch us die!”

I found her words utterly preposterous. “You’re making things up–” But before I could finish, Mark grabbed my neck, pressing me against the car door: “Sarah, you venomous woman!” “You deliberately planned to kill our whole family, didn’t you?!” Tiffany, with a tearful voice, added fuel to the fire: “I know you’ve always been jealous of me, but you can’t joke around with our entire family’s lives!” Mark’s hand tightened around my neck. I gasped for air, my head hitting the car window with a thud. Blood trickled down my forehead. “Sarah, even if we all die here today, I’m going to send you on your way first!” He slammed my head against the car window again and again, making my vision swim. But I knew I couldn’t give in now. Otherwise, they would beat me to death right here! I gritted my teeth and shouted: “You all came here yourselves!” “Shut up!” Mark screamed, like a madman. Tiffany also yelled: “It’s all your fault! You’re the one who killed our whole family!” Susan lunged forward, hitting me: “How could you be so heartless!” The three of them surrounded me, hitting and cursing, as if being trapped here was all my fault. David also started cursing, and a few of them even began insulting my mother. “Eleanor’s no good either, raising such a wicked woman!” “A whole family of awful people!” Just as Mark raised his fist again, a tremendous roaring sound came from the sky. A helicopter sliced through the swirling sand, landing steadily not far away. Mark’s eyes lit up. Susan scrambled to her feet. Tiffany screamed and ran towards the helicopter. “Help! Save us!” The cabin door opened, and a rescue team member jumped out. He glanced at the four of them, frowning: “The helicopter only has room for four more people.” The words had barely left his mouth when Mark grabbed Susan: “Susan, you and I go first!” Tiffany shrieked: “Why should you? I’m carrying your family’s blood! Let me go first!” “Shut up!” Mark snapped at her. “Is the baby’s life more important than mine?!” David also squeezed forward, trembling: “I… I’m the oldest, let me go first!” The four of them started arguing, none willing to give way. Just then, Susan suddenly looked at me, her eyes vicious: “Just leave her behind. The four of us can go up, right?” Tiffany quickly seconded: “Exactly, she’s the one who deserves to die. Make her wait for the next trip!” The four of them reached an agreement and looked at the rescue team member in unison: “Leave her! She deserves to die, she doesn’t deserve to get on the helicopter!” I leaned against the car door, blood still flowing from my forehead, watching their performance with cold eyes. The rescue team member finally shouted impatiently: “Enough! This helicopter is ordered to pick up *one person*, not for you to get on as you please!” Then, he looked directly at me: “Engineer Johnson, we’re from the Geological Bureau, sent to pick you up. Please board.” Mark’s face went white. Susan’s mouth hung open, speechless. Tiffany collapsed to the ground. The rescue team member added: “There are three more seats, but who gets on is up to Engineer Johnson.”

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My wife, after three months apart, pushed me away impatiently when I tried to get close. “Just got back and already focused on this? I’m sick of it.” She ran off right after saying that, and I instantly realized I’d been too pushy. I knew Ava had always been distant when it came to intimacy, and I admit I lost control this time. So I sent dozens of apologies, but my messages went unanswered. Just as I was about to go look for her, my phone buzzed with a video. In the video, Ava was kneeling in front of a man. His back was to the camera, so I couldn’t see his face, but he felt vaguely familiar. “Please, just take me, okay? See, I really didn’t let him touch me just now. He’s been starving for a month, but I only want your touch.” Watching Ava, completely different from how she was with me, all my long-buried memories came flooding back. Before, when I tried to hold her hand, she’d say, “Don’t you get it? I don’t like physical intimacy. Why do you insist on disgusting me?” Even our intimacy was rationed, a scheduled, monthly affair. At first, I felt frustrated, but eventually, I just accepted it. I never imagined, though, that it was all a lie. She wasn’t frigid; she just didn’t want me close. The thought made me sick to my stomach. It seemed she’d forgotten how our marriage even came to be.

I immediately sent Ava a SnapChat message: [Ava, do you remember who you are?] My tone was flat, devoid of emotion. Ava didn’t play dead this time. She replied instantly: [I’m your wife, but I’m also a person. If your sex drive is that strong, I don’t mind you going out to find someone to release it with.] I laughed bitterly at that reply. I immediately sent the video over: [Ten minutes. I want a reasonable explanation. Otherwise, our alliance ends here.] Yes, we were just an alliance marriage. She was just leveraging my affection to act completely without restraint. But I wasn’t desperate for her either. Since she chose another man, as her husband who once liked her, I naturally had to grant her wish. After sending the message, I went straight to the bathroom. When I came out, Ava was already back. Ava, with a slightly flushed face, reached out to hug me. I felt disgusted and instinctively recoiled. “Care to explain?” “Honey, I lost a game, and that was my punishment.” Ava batted her eyelashes at me. “Not being intimate with me was the punishment, or kneeling in front of him and begging him to take you was the punishment?” I looked at Ava expressionlessly. Faced with my questioning, Ava’s face instantly hardened. “Ethan, are you trying to humiliate me? I told you it was a punishment, and you’re still being so aggressive. Don’t you believe me?” “Then tell me, how am I supposed to believe you?” I tossed my phone onto the table. Another video was playing on the screen. I’d asked my assistant to investigate it before I showered. The man in the video was Caleb, an intern Ava managed. From his back, he seemed to be the same man Ava was kneeling for. I remembered Caleb had joined the company six months ago. Back then, Ava had told me, “Honey, Caleb is my mentor’s son. We have to give him a chance.” I hadn’t thought much of it, but I never expected she’d repeatedly ditch me because of him. In this video, the two of them were tightly embracing. I wanted to see how Ava would explain this. “You’re tracking me?” Ava’s face changed drastically the moment she saw the video. “I’m your wife, not your servant. How dare you track me? Even if I’m your wife, can’t I hug someone else?” “Ethan, your mind is so twisted.” Ava angrily turned and left. The room fell silent with her departure. Actually, our families were quite well-matched in terms of social standing, and Ava and I had known each other since childhood. Although Ava was the one who initially proposed the alliance, I wasn’t against it.

“Ethan, I know your family picked someone else for your alliance, and I don’t like the person my family picked for mine. Rather than marry that person, I’d rather marry you.” Ava then listed ten benefits of marrying her. I thought about it, and she made some good points, so I turned around and married Ava. For three years after the wedding, we got along well. Our recent frequent friction was mainly because both families wanted children. This was something Ava and I had agreed upon. I just hadn’t expected my kindness to make her get a little too comfortable, taking advantage of my kindness. I absolutely detest deceit and betrayal. Since Ava was showing signs of it, she couldn’t stay. I contacted my assistant to organize all current joint projects between our families. Divorce was fine, but it couldn’t affect the company. By the time I finished all that, it was past midnight. I crashed into bed and slept. Ava didn’t come home all night. I was woken up by noise in the morning. Ava glared at me, full of indignation. “I told you Caleb is just my assistant. Why do you have to target him? You’re the head of the company, don’t you think your behavior is beneath you?” My morning grumpiness wouldn’t allow Ava to say more. “Shut up.” I roared, and Ava instantly froze. After a long moment, she finally spoke, “You, Ethan, don’t you think you’ve done anything wrong? “Do you know that because of you, Caleb is now being criticized for using connections?” “Isn’t he?” I’d seen Caleb’s resume. With his qualifications, getting into our company wouldn’t have been easy. “I already told you, I only let Caleb in because of my mentor! But do you know how many projects he’s brought to the company since then?” Ava, at this moment, was like Caleb’s fiercest protector, completely biased towards that man. I listened as Ava painstakingly detailed the projects Caleb had supposedly closed. If I wasn’t mistaken, those projects were already secured; Caleb had only gone to deliver the contracts. Thinking of this, I grew interested. “Oh really? Then let Caleb prove himself. The North City project is currently being negotiated. As long as he closes it, I guarantee I won’t bother him.” “You said it!” I nodded, and Ava rushed out in a hurry. From that day on, Ava started staying out every night. Each time I asked, she’d say, “Busy.” She seemed to forget that I was the CEO, and she was only a VP. How could a VP be busier than me? I didn’t expose Ava, but I didn’t expect her to completely disregard my reputation. That night, I had a meeting with Mr. Davis, and Ava actually showed up. I was confused when she raised her hand and gestured for Caleb to join our table. “Mr. Davis, this is Caleb from our project department. He’s my assistant, and he’s been in charge of our company’s projects recently. He’s very young and promising. From now on, all your company’s projects will be handled by him.” Ava said all this without any regard for my presence. Mr. Davis was a shrewd one. He looked at me, then at Ava, and finally his gaze settled on Caleb. “The youth truly are promising.” But Mr. Davis didn’t agree to Ava’s proposal. She became anxious and whispered to me, “Ethan, Caleb is about to close the North City project. If Mr. Davis’s projects are now managed by Caleb, he won’t have to feel inferior anymore.” “Get out.” I couldn’t take it anymore. Everyone in the company knew Mr. Davis’s project was crucial for our company’s revenue in the second half of the year. I had warned everyone, “The most important thing right now is Mr. Davis.” No one had messed up during the project negotiations, yet I never expected Ava to pull this stunt at the very end.

My voice was soft, but Ava pretended not to hear, continuing to boast about Caleb to Mr. Davis. Caleb, too, was brimming with confidence, nodding repeatedly. “Yes, Mr. Davis, rest assured, if the project is entrusted to me, I will definitely satisfy you.” “Oh, really? How will you satisfy me?” Mr. Davis was in a playful mood, and I didn’t stop him, just watching Caleb make a total fool of himself. Once Caleb had talked himself hoarse, Ava interjected, “Mr. Davis, to show our sincerity, I’ll drink to that.” Ava blurted it out without thinking, then quickly downed several glasses. This made me think of our wedding day. My friends were teasing us into drinking, and Ava’s face had darkened. “I’m allergic to alcohol.” After that, Ava never touched a drop of alcohol in front of me. Now, she wasn’t allergic anymore. Mr. Davis, sensing something was off, finally looked at me. Without a word, I gave my assistant a look, and Ava and Caleb were escorted out. Before leaving, Ava looked at me resentfully. “You said you’d let Caleb be in charge! What’s the meaning of sabotaging it now? Are you trying to force me to side with Caleb?” Ava sounded like she’d completely lost her mind, and her words solidified my resolve for a divorce. After Ava was gone, Mr. Davis and I were finally able to discuss the project properly. An hour later, I saw Mr. Davis off and went home. When I arrived, I found Caleb there. He was curled up on the sofa, looking utterly wronged. “Mr. Grey, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude, but Ms. Black had too much to drink, and I didn’t dare leave her alone. I was afraid something might happen to her.” “Fine, you can take care of her then.” I left that remark and went straight upstairs to the master bedroom. I didn’t bother with Ava and Caleb that night. The two of them were quite “considerate,” sleeping together. I pushed open the guest room door and saw them lying on the bed. I calmly took pictures. Ava was startled awake and looked at me unhappily. “What are you doing?” “Taking commemorative photos of my wife and her intern.” Only then did Ava see Caleb beside her. But Ava didn’t seem to find anything wrong with it. She even complained about me. “Can’t you see Caleb is still resting? He took care of me for so long last night. What’s wrong with him sleeping a little longer now? You’re so selfish, Ethan.” The old saying was indeed true: never argue with a fool. Perhaps Ava genuinely believed that sleeping in the same bed with another man in front of her husband wasn’t a big deal, but I cared. So I immediately called my parents and told them I wanted a divorce. My parents only asked one question: “Are you sure?” “Yes.” “Alright. Just don’t let it affect the company.” During this time, I had already contacted Daniel, Ava’s elder brother. I hinted at my intention to divorce. Daniel was instantly shocked. “You cheated?” I rolled my eyes at Daniel. “Your sister cheated.” Daniel was speechless. I warned Daniel, “Don’t tell Ava about this yet. As long as it doesn’t affect our projects, Ava and I can get a secret divorce.” Daniel finally agreed. And now, only the last step remained. While preparing the divorce papers, I also traced the account that first sent me the video. It was Caleb. It seemed he was truly desperate to take my place. That day, I stumbled upon Caleb’s video account. I never expected him to be a small influencer.

His account documented his daily life with Ava. Netizens affectionately called them [The Internet Boss and Subordinate Love Story]. Everyone wanted to see their office romance. And through those posts, I confirmed that Ava and Caleb had been secretly involved for a long time. One video, in particular, caught my attention. It was Caleb’s birthday, and Ava was with him the entire time. Their intimate interactions made even me, an outsider, envious. If I weren’t Ava’s husband, I would have applauded them. That day was also my birthday, but Ava had said, “You don’t celebrate your birthday every year. How did you celebrate before we got married? You can’t live without me now? I have something very important to do. You can find anyone you want to celebrate your birthday with.” Now that we were about to separate, I didn’t feel much about it. After all, this relationship started as an alliance. If it were true love, I’d be devastated. I thought Ava might do something extreme for Caleb to get the project, but I never expected her to risk her own reputation. She told the North City project manager, “Caleb is the most important person to me, more important than my husband. If this project is assigned to him, our family will prioritize working with your company in the future.” The other party was indeed hesitant and immediately called me and Daniel to confirm. We both denied it flatly. Ava called me, furious. “Ethan, do you think your dirty tricks will make me give up? I’m telling you, targeting Caleb is targeting me! If you keep this up, we’re getting a divorce!” “Fine, let’s get a divorce.” I immediately sent over the divorce papers I had already prepared. Ava’s tone changed completely after seeing the papers. “You… you want to divorce me? Ethan, we’re an alliance. Do you know how many projects our families have tied together? What good will divorcing me do you?” “That’s none of your business. After all, even for an alliance, I don’t like being associated with filth.” “You…” Ava felt utterly insulted. She wanted to retort, but I sent her the latest video. Since we were divorcing anyway, to prevent Ava from causing trouble, I naturally had to investigate properly. I didn’t realize how bad it was until I started digging. Ava and Caleb were even more intimate than I’d imagined. She had even pulled a lot of strings for Caleb after he joined the company. And this latest video was of them sleeping together. After watching the video, Ava was silent for a long time. After a while, she stammered an explanation. “I was drunk that day. If Caleb hadn’t helped me, I might have been… with other men…” “Enough.” I didn’t want to hear such absurd claims. “Sign the papers and get out.” With that, I hung up. I thought things had reached a point where Ava would quietly sign the divorce papers, but I never expected Ava to pull a desperate stunt. My assistant called just as Mr. Davis, the North City representatives, and I were signing the contract. All three of us received calls simultaneously. We keenly sensed something was wrong and picked up at the same time. The next moment, my face changed drastically. “Could you repeat that?”

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A week before Christmas, I fired everyone. Because in my last life, Jenny suddenly grabbed my hand, sobbing and pleading: “Audrey, please, take me home quickly! My mother ate the chocolate cake from your holiday gift box and now she’s dying!” I panicked instantly. I rushed her home and gave her a hundred thousand dollars in emergency cash. But when we arrived, her mother had already passed away. The very next day, her husband was outside my company holding signs protesting: “Killer Company, Justice for My Mother!” The video went viral, and I became a target of online bullying across the entire internet. My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Reed, were also implicated. Netizens constantly threatened them, sending harassment texts and even death threats. But her entire family remained relentless. They claimed I was responsible for her mother’s death and demanded two million dollars in compensation. Eventually, I had a mental breakdown and jumped off a bridge, ending my life. When I opened my eyes again, I threw out all the prepared cake gift boxes. Back in my office, I said calmly: “Today will be everyone’s last day of work. Please go to accounting now to settle your final pay.” 1 The moment I finished speaking, the previously quiet office instantly erupted. “Ms. Reed, what do you mean? You’re kidding, right?” “Why?! Didn’t we just meet our targets this month? You’re just firing us?” “Yeah, exactly! Christmas is right around the corner. If you fire us now, where are we supposed to find new jobs?” Amidst the noisy protests, Jenny clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes filled with confusion. She grabbed my arm. “Audrey, what is this about? Why are you firing us?” Her expression was identical to my past life. I stared at her face. In my last life, I was completely fooled by this very look. My heart had been in turmoil then. I immediately drove her home, even stopping on the way to withdraw a hundred thousand dollars in cash to give her. When we arrived downstairs at her house, the doctor who had rushed there shook his head. Her mother was already gone. The next day, she and her husband, Kevin, were blocking my company entrance, holding protest signs. “Poisonous Cake Killer! Justice for My Mother-in-Law!” A dozen relatives were behind him. Some were live-streaming on their phones, others were throwing paint on my company’s door. The video went viral on social media that very day. In no time, it racked up over 500 million views. All my personal information was leaked online. Every single comment in the comments section cursed me. My partners called that day, terminating our collaborations. I didn’t even get a chance to explain. My company’s funding dried up, and I went bankrupt overnight. Kevin even showed up at my house, causing trouble. “You killed my mother-in-law, and my wife is now suffering from mental anguish.” “You need to compensate us two million dollars. Otherwise, your whole family won’t have it easy.” My parents, Mr. and Mrs. Reed, were verbally assaulted outside our apartment building, and our front door was plastered with printed threat notes. It caused my parents to have heart attacks, and our family became pariahs. Jenny lay in bed, crying and posting videos accusing me. “Audrey, I trusted you so much. How could you kill my mother…” Under the endless online bullying and real-life pressure, I had a mental breakdown and jumped off a bridge spanning the river. Now, Jenny was still clutching my arm. Exactly the same as my past life. I pulled my arm free from her grasp. “It’s my company. I’ll close it whenever I want. Do I need to explain myself to you?” Jenny froze. Her tears still clung to her eyelashes, and her expression instantly stiffened. Brenda from the planning department quickly spoke up, agitated. “Ms. Reed, how can you say that?! Jenny is usually the hardest worker!” “Besides, you’re firing all of us right before Christmas. What are we supposed to do, starve?” I smiled. “Didn’t I say accounting would give you severance pay? Is that not enough?” Brenda’s mouth twitched, but she remained silent. Jenny regained her composure and started crying even harder. “Audrey, is there something I did wrong? I can change! Please don’t fire me…” 2 I looked at her, my lips twitching. “Like I said, the company is closing. Besides, you’re not the only one being let go.” Seeing that I wasn’t falling for her act, her face darkened, and she shouted: “But we just won the Best New Business of the Year Award last month!” This prompted others to agree. “Yeah, Ms. Reed, this is really unfair. You don’t want to pay bonuses, so you just fire everyone?” “Exactly! I was counting on this month’s paycheck for rent!” “Audrey, please reconsider. Don’t be so impulsive.” All eyes turned to me. Jenny reacted even faster. “Audrey, if you don’t want to see me, I’ll leave. I really won’t force you…” Her voice was soft and trembling: “But everyone has families to support. How can you be so heartless?” As she spoke, she seemed about to collapse. Brenda quickly rushed over to steady her, then shot me a glare. Mike also chimed in: “Exactly. Running a company isn’t playing house. You can’t just close it down like that. Do you have to be so ruthless?” Mr. Davies, the HR manager, slowly took a sip from his mug. His voice was neither loud nor soft, but just loud enough for everyone to hear. “Some people look mighty when receiving awards, but when it’s time to pay out, they suddenly want to disappear. ‘Closing down’? Who would believe that?” I didn’t say anything. I founded this company, and I considered our employee benefits to be among the best. We never lacked in material perks or care. Every holiday, including employee birthdays, we unfailingly gave everyone a $200 gift card along with a carefully selected gift box. I watched this group of people with cold eyes. But in my past life, Brenda was the first person to leak my address in the neighborhood forum. She even told neighbors, “Our boss is vicious and cruel. You should stay away from her.” Later, when someone dug up my parents’ information, Mr. Davies added, “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. That whole family is rotten.” Now they stood here surrounding me. As if I truly were some cold-blooded, ruthless evil boss. There wasn’t a ripple in my heart. I simply said flatly: “I have nothing else to say. You can go.” Just then, Jenny’s phone rang. As soon as she answered, her face instantly turned pale. “Mom! Mom, what’s wrong?! Don’t scare me!” The people around her started to panic. “What’s going on?” someone asked. I was momentarily dazed. After the incident in my past life, I quickly learned everything about allergies. I read dozens of books and watched hundreds of educational videos. The videos explained that peanut allergy is an immediate allergic reaction, and severe cases can cause anaphylaxis and suffocation within minutes. But they had insisted it was because the cake I sent was problematic, and I had felt incredibly guilty and heartbroken. It wasn’t until after I died and floated in the air that I saw Jenny and her husband Kevin counting money at home. 3 “You’re so clever. Knowing your mother had a peanut allergy, you deliberately swapped out the original cake in the gift box for one with peanuts.” “Now look, the company’s ruined, and we extorted two million dollars.” Jenny had said with a laugh. “Well, she was the boss, and she was so easy to fool.” It turned out, from the very beginning, they had been waiting for me, a perfect mark, to fall into their trap. Jenny’s cries snapped me out of my memory. Jenny grabbed Brenda’s hand. “My mother ate the company’s gift box cake, and it had peanuts! My mother has a nut allergy, and now… now she’s dying!” “Audrey! What were you thinking?! I kindly took your discarded cake home for my mother to eat. Why did you poison her?” At that, the office fell silent for a few seconds. “Oh my god! The gift box Ms. Reed sent had a problem?!” Mike quickly followed up. “I knew something was up when Ms. Reed suddenly threw out all the gift boxes today! She was trying to destroy evidence!” “This is outrageous! Even if she didn’t give them to us, Jenny taking one home caused this. It’s a complete disregard for human life!” “I knew something was off when she suddenly wanted to fire us. She knew what she did and was trying to escape!” I stood there, watching Jenny. She kept repeating the same phrase: “My mother collapsed after eating it. What do I do?” Brenda hugged her, comforting her while glaring at me. “Ms. Reed! You need to give us an explanation right now! If anything happens to Jenny’s mother, you’ll be a murderer!” “Exactly! Give us an explanation!” “Call 911! Call 911 right now!” Mike pulled out his phone, making to dial 91

I frowned, taking a step closer to Jenny. She slumped to the floor, looking up at me. I looked at her, my voice flat. “Jenny, are you saying your mother ate a peanut-containing cake from my gift box and is now unwell?” Jenny’s sobs abruptly stopped. She looked at me, confused. Brenda and the others were still in the dark, and they started to protest again. “Ms. Reed, what are you doing?! Are you threatening her?” “Let’s talk this out. Why are you getting so close?” I straightened up, ignoring their shouts, and calmly looked at Jenny. “Did you call 911? Your mother needs emergency medical attention right now, not for you to be crying here.” Jenny seemed reminded, fumbling for her phone in her pocket, but her hands were shaking so much she couldn’t even unlock it. Mike quickly snatched the phone and dialed 911. Jenny was helped up by her colleagues, stumbling as she rushed home. Before leaving, she shot me another look, pure venom, as if she wanted to tear me apart. Less than two hours after she left, my phone started buzzing wildly. I opened TikTok, and “Evil Boss Poisons Mother” was the top trending topic. Clicking on the first live stream video, I saw Kevin standing downstairs from our company. “Ruthless Company, Snake-Hearted Boss, Poisonous Cake Murder, Inexcusable!” Jenny was wailing on the ground, surrounded by a dozen relatives. The spectacle was even more dramatic than in my past life. The number of live stream viewers still topped a hundred thousand. 4 “Damn! Another food safety issue! They have to investigate thoroughly!” “I think I’ve seen this boss before. She’s a pretty young woman. How could her heart be so cruel?” “What’s her company called? Where’s the address? We have to go after her!” In the live stream footage, Brenda and Mike were talking to the camera, exaggerating everything that had just happened. “Jenny usually works the hardest, and she’s such a good person. I can’t believe something like this happened to her.” “Our boss, Audrey Reed, she suddenly wanted to fire all of us today. I think she had a guilty conscience and was trying to escape!” “Exactly! She bought cheap, uncertified cakes that killed someone, and she wants to run away without paying compensation!” “Right! Jenny is usually so filial. She kindly brought company perks home, and now her own mother is gone. It’s too tragic!” A ripple of uproar spread through the crowd. “She’s fleeing from justice!” “Drag her out! Make her go to jail!” “She doesn’t deserve to live!” I watched the farce calmly from upstairs. My phone rang. It was my mother, her voice tearful: “Audrey, is what they’re saying online true? Come home quickly. Don’t stay out there. A lot of people are saying they’re coming for you…” “Don’t worry, Mom. They won’t have time to look for me soon.” I hung up and dialed another number. “You can start.” Kevin, with a large group of people, stormed straight up the stairs. The moment Kevin saw me, he lunged, but was intercepted by the police who had arrived just in time. “Audrey Reed! You murderer! My mother’s dead! She died after eating your cake! It had peanuts!” Jenny was behind him, crying uncontrollably. “You’ll pay for my mother’s life! Two million dollars! Not a penny less!” I looked at them and suddenly smiled. I took a USB drive from my bag and dangled it in front of everyone. Then I looked at Jenny and asked, word by word: “You said the cake I sent had peanuts?” Jenny insisted. “That’s right! It was you! You killed my mother!” I nodded and continued. “But the custom holiday dessert boxes I ordered came in vanilla, chocolate, and berry flavors. To prevent any accidents, I specifically instructed the manufacturer not to include any nut ingredients, and every batch had a quality inspection report.” “So tell me, how did your mother eat peanuts and suffer an allergic reaction?” Jenny froze, but quickly she asserted again. “My mother died after eating your gift box! Don’t try to fob me off with some fake report!” “A lousy report could be faked anywhere!” “If you weren’t guilty, why would you suddenly fire all your employees? I think you’re trying to flee from justice!” At that, everyone nodded in agreement. The lead police officer also frowned. I didn’t care, looking up at Jenny and smiling. “Jenny, you really won’t admit it until faced with undeniable proof. Then take a look at this.”

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Seven years of marriage, and Ethan Thorne had no idea that everyone in my family, except for me, was completely unhinged. My father was a ruthless mob boss, and my brother was a twisted psychopath who collected bodies. After my mother’s death, they raised me as their princess. They always said anyone who dared hurt me would be stripped to the bone, sliced piece by piece, and left to wish for death! On the day I went into labor, Ethan’s little assistant, Sophia Davis, managed to call away every single doctor in the hospital because of a… well, a torn private part. I clutched his hand, terrified. “Ethan, please, get the doctors back. If my family finds out what you’re doing to me, you’re dead!” But Ethan Thorne just sneered and shook off my hand. “Still lying! I’m a billionaire now, even the mayor answers to me. Why would I be scared of them?” “Last time, Sophia fainted from low blood sugar, and you forced me to attend a meeting with our partners. Now it’s your turn to give birth, can’t you just suck it up?” He straightened up and said sternly, “Since you’re so ‘considerate of the bigger picture,’ just wait until Sophia recovers, then give birth. You won’t die!” The ward door slammed shut with a bang, and excruciating pain instantly ripped through my abdomen. Trembling, I fumbled for the emergency trigger button hidden in my necklace pendant, pressing it with my last ounce of strength. Ethan Thorne had no idea that hitting that button wouldn’t bring regular bodyguards. It would unleash the Shadow Raven Mercenaries, feared across the globe!

Ethan Thorne didn’t return until late into the night. Dragging my body, which was steadily leaking blood, I painstakingly crawled to the door. I looked up and saw Ethan’s secretary, Mark Stevens, leaning against the wall, his eyes as cold as ice. “Please… call a doctor… my baby… my baby is dying…” I reached out to grab his pant leg, my fingertips trembling uncontrollably. Mark kicked my hand away, his disgust practically dripping from his eyes. “All the doctors in the hospital have been called by Mr. Thorne to treat Miss Davis. Madam should just wait patiently here.” The blood beneath me flowed more and more, and my stomach felt like it was being sliced by a dull knife, twisting with spasms of pain. “I’m about to give birth! What kind of injury could she possibly have that’s more important than a woman giving birth?!” He sneered. “Madam, you didn’t know? Last night, Mr. Thorne had quite a session with Miss Davis, and her private parts were severely torn. Mr. Thorne was heartbroken and immediately ordered all doctors to stay by her side without leaving.” “You… said what?” My mind went blank with a buzz, as if I’d plunged into an ice-cold abyss. The excruciating pain in my stomach couldn’t even overpower the suffocating tightness in my chest. I clutched his pant leg tightly, pleading humbly. “Please call Ethan Thorne. Tell him to come see me and the baby, even if just for a moment…” “Don’t bother, Madam.” Mark’s voice was chilling. “With Miss Davis, a beauty, in his arms, why would Mr. Thorne care about you? You and this child, if you don’t die, just bear it. If you do, it’s what you deserve.” His words were like a sharp knife slicing into my heart. Yes, Ethan Thorne wouldn’t care about me. He was completely consumed by Sophia now, so how could he possibly come save me? I opened my mouth, wanting to say more. But the severe blood loss made my vision suddenly go black, and I completely passed out.

In my dream, I felt like I was falling into a bottomless abyss. When I opened my eyes again. I saw Dad crouching by the villa pool, tossing a bloody piece of meat into the water. The fish were eating until their bellies were round, their scales glowing with a strange, eerie red hue. He turned, smiling at me, and said those fish, fed on human flesh, had the most beautiful scales, perfect for my bookmarks. My brother leaned outside the glass door, showing off a bracelet he’d made from human bones. Back then, I had just experienced my mother’s sudden death right in front of me and was most afraid of the dark. No matter how late Ethan’s work dinners ran, he would always come home early to stay by my side, waking up before dawn the next day to go to work. I casually mentioned I liked the starry sky, and he immediately spent millions to buy an observatory in the city outskirts, giving it to me as a birthday gift. A wealthy heiress, wanting to be with him, offered a multi-billion dollar project, pressuring him to break up with me. To give me a sense of security, he immediately blocked her and declared publicly, “The only woman I will ever love is Eleanor Moretti.” I believed him. So I kept it from my family, accompanied him as he built his fortune from scratch, acted as his shield against countless schemes, and even proactively cut ties with my family for him. He hugged me countless times, saying, “Ellie, once the company goes public, I’ll take you on a world tour and pamper you like a princess.” But now? That man who swore he’d never betray me was watching me bleed to death in a hospital bed, all for another woman! In a haze, I heard a baby’s cry. The next moment, I was violently pulled back to reality. Looking at Mark Stevens beside me, I forced myself to speak through the pain. “Mark, my father personally picked you to be my bodyguard all those years ago. You know exactly what my family is capable of.” He didn’t speak. But his trembling hands gave away his terror completely. “What do I want to do?” My pale face twisted into a sneer. “My father and brother will be here any minute. If you don’t get the doctors now, when they arrive, you’ll have nowhere to be buried!” Mark instantly trembled all over, scrambling to go find a doctor. Just as he reached the door, he seemed to remember something. He suddenly let out a chilling laugh, then turned and viciously slapped me across the face! A sharp smack echoed, and my head snapped to the side from the blow. “This is Mr. Thorne’s private hospital, built just for you! It’s deep in the wilderness – not even satellites can find it, let alone any divine intervention!” I gasped for breath, staring at him, weak but with fierce resolve. “You’re too late, all of you. I already sent out my location.” His face instantly turned ghostly pale, his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the floor, his eyes wide with terror as if he’d seen a ghost. “This… this isn’t real…” I gritted my teeth, every word causing me to break out in a cold sweat from the pain. “Go get the doctors now. When my father arrives, I’ll put in a good word for you, and you might just get to keep your worthless life. Otherwise… next year this very day will be your death anniversary!” Mark was terrified out of his mind. He fumbled for his phone, scrambling on all fours, and bolted out like a madman. I lay limp on the bed, the cramping in my stomach like a knife twisting inside me. But the knot in my stomach finally loosened a bit.

When Mark finally pushed the doctor in, seeing me covered in blood, he instantly exploded! “Are you insane?!” He practically stomped his foot, pointing at my belly in exasperation. “This pregnant woman is almost gone! The baby’s in a breech position. Five more minutes, and it’ll be a double tragedy!” The doctor quickly felt my pulse, then pried open my eyelids and shouted, “Quick, get the delivery kit! And the strong stimulant! She needs to stay awake. No more complications!” A needle jabbed, and cool medicine flowed in. My mind went blank for a moment, then instantly cleared. Finally, my baby and I were saved… The doctor had just picked up a scalpel when the ward door was kicked open with a bang! Sophia’s mother, Brenda Davis, suddenly burst in and roughly pushed the doctor to the ground. “Ethan and my daughter were at it until dawn last night! Her wound tore open again, and now she can’t even stand! I order you to go save her right now, or I swear I’ll make sure you’re run out of this city!” She turned and glared at me, her face practically overflowing with triumph. “My daughter is Mr. Thorne’s favorite trophy wife! He said every doctor in this city has to prioritize her!” She then scornfully kicked my stomach, her eyes filled with utter disdain. “Eleanor Moretti, don’t think that just because you have a face that could launch a thousand ships and helped Mr. Thorne build his fortune from scratch, you’re something special! Look at what you are, do you really think you deserve to be Mrs. Thorne?” I convulsed in pain, but with my last ounce of strength, I spat fiercely at her greasy face. Brenda’s face instantly turned green with rage. She raised her hand to strike me. “You wretched btch! Today, I’ll teach you a good lesson for my daughter and show you who the real mistress of the Thorne household is!” Mark, terrified, pounced and desperately held her back. “Madam is almost gone! If you lay another hand on her, she and the baby will die!” “So what?” She let out a twisted laugh, calling two bodyguards from outside the door. “Hold her down for me! You dare steal my daughter’s man? Today, I’ll show you what it means to wish you were dead!” Two burly men rushed in, pinning my arms and legs down. I was utterly powerless, able only to watch as she picked up a solid wooden stick from the corner. “Childbirth is always painful for women, isn’t it? Whining like a stuck pig, so delicate!” “So what if the baby’s breech?” She viciously patted my face, then jabbed the wooden stick directly into my stomach. “Just roll it a few times with this stick, and the baby will come out, won’t it?” My pupils constricted, and I struggled desperately. “You wouldn’t dare! Ethan will kill you if he finds out!” She laughed even crazier, raising the wooden stick and brutally rolling it over my swollen belly! “My daughter is Mr. Thorne’s darling! You and this bastard child die, and he’ll be delighted!” The moment the stick pressed against my belly, I screamed in agony. My internal organs felt dislocated, and the baby inside struggled violently for a moment, then went completely still! “No! My baby!” I screamed with heart-wrenching anguish, tears mixing with sweat as they streamed down my face. She ignored me, continuing to roll the wooden stick over my stomach again and again. Each strike was full of force, my belly burned, and my insides felt like they were being shredded. I convulsed all over, my consciousness fading! Mark was terrified, cold sweat dripping, his legs trembling nonstop. “Stop hitting her! She’ll really die if this continues!” “Get lost!” Brenda kicked him away, then raised the wooden stick, aiming to jab it at my private parts. “Might as well finish the job! Make sure you can never have children again, then let’s see if Mr. Thorne still wants you!” Just as the stick was about to fall again, a furious roar came from behind her. “Ellie!!”

Donovan Moretti stepped forward and violently shoved Brenda Davis aside. “Mr. Thorne… why are you here?” The blood I’d lost soaked through the sheets, and my stomach was red and purple from the beating, swollen to a horrifying size. Ethan looked at me, his eyes bloodshot, then whipped his head around and roared. “Who gave you the nerve to touch my woman and my child?!” Sophia, her face streaked with tears, tugged at Ethan’s sleeve. “Ethan, please don’t blame my mom. If you’re going to punish anyone, punish me. It’s all my fault, I couldn’t stop her…” Sophia cried breathlessly, then suddenly changed her tone. “But Ellie always hits and scolds me, saying I’m a vixen and not good enough for you… When my mom came to visit, she even hit my mom! I don’t know what I did wrong, why does Ellie hate me so much?!” As she spoke, she rolled up her sleeve, revealing a few faint old scars on her arm. “These are all from when Ellie used to hit me. I never dared to tell you, afraid it would make things difficult for you. My mom was just so upset, she lost her head for a moment, she really didn’t mean it…” Ethan’s eyes instantly turned bone-chillingly cold. He stared at me intently, his voice filled with disappointment. “Eleanor Moretti, I thought you were just spoiled, but I never imagined you were so vicious!” Those words were like an ice pick plunging into my heart! And with them, my last shred of hope for him shattered into dust! Ethan’s gaze hardened. “It seems I’ve pampered you too much, allowing you to become so lawless! You need to learn a lesson and remember your place! Whatever Sophia wants to do to punish you, you’ll take it!” I stared at him, unable to believe it. “Ethan, are you blind?! They were trying to kill our baby!” Seeing this, Sophia sobbed softly. “Ethan, Ellie is just too distraught…” I lay in a pool of blood, my heart filled with despair. “Dad… Silas… where are you…?” As the last tear slipped from my eye, I stopped struggling. “BOOM—!” A sudden thunderous crash erupted from outside the door! The main door was blasted to splinters, wood shrapnel flying everywhere! My father, Donovan, burst in, covered in blood. His eyes swept over Sophia and a stunned Ethan. When they finally landed on my barely-breathing form, they instantly turned scarlet. “Looks like my fish have fresh bait again!” My brother, Silas, strolled in behind him, his eyes fixated on Sophia. “That face… if you took it off to make a lampshade, it would be absolutely perfect!”

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In my previous life, I was finally recognized and brought back into the Sterling family. My biological brother, Joseph, accused me of causing Grace’s illness to protect her, his adopted sister. My biological parents believed him and kicked me out. Not long after, I died on the streets from my illness. When I woke up again, I was back on the day I was taken into the Sterling family. Joseph stood in front of my parents, pointing at me and saying, “Mom, Dad, she’s not my sister at all!” My parents gave me a disappointed look, then turned and walked away. I stood there, didn’t pull out the sapphire necklace that could prove my identity, and quietly walked back to the orphanage. Twenty years later, I became a leading internal medicine specialist in the country. The man sitting opposite me handed over a medical record, his voice trembling: “Doctor Harper, please, I beg you, save my sister.” I paused when I saw the name. My gaze fell on his haggard face. After staring for a long time, I finally looked at the man and said, “I’m not taking this patient.”

Joseph froze. “What did you say?” I closed the medical record and pushed it back to him. “I’m not taking this patient.” The consultation room fell silent. Joseph stared at me, his brows furrowing tighter and tighter. Grace, in the wheelchair, looked a bit pale, but it was clear she had decent energy. Twenty years. They’d lived truly well. Joseph had become the heir to the Sterling Group, and Grace was the apple of their eye, cherished by the entire family. And they probably would never recognize that the woman sitting before them, the Head of Internal Medicine wearing glasses, was the real daughter they’d locked out of their home all those years ago. “I know you’re the most authoritative internist, and it’s not easy to get an appointment with you.” “But don’t worry, money isn’t an issue. As long as you can cure Grace, name your price.” Joseph placed a black card on my desk, held between two fingers. I glanced down, then looked up at him. “The hospital has its rules. And I’m not taking her case because her condition falls outside my specialty.” “What do you mean?” Joseph was stunned again. “I’ve made inquiries. You’ve even brought back patients with late-stage heart failure.” “Grace only has a heart murmur and occasional angina. Are you telling me you can’t treat her?” Grace coughed twice, tugging on Joseph’s sleeve. “Joseph, it’s fine… I don’t want you to have to beg and grovel for me…” This act was identical to how she looked in my previous life when she falsely accused me of pushing her down the stairs. Joseph’s heart ached for her. He squeezed her hand, then looked back at me, his gaze like daggers. “Dr. Harper, is it not enough money? Fine, I’ll propose something else.” “If you accept Grace as a patient today, tomorrow, the Sterling Group will donate thirty million to your Cardiology Department for new equipment.” “Is that condition good enough?” A few intern doctors nearby gasped, but I didn’t even bat an eye. “Mr. Sterling, when I choose a patient, I look at the illness, not the money.” “I’m not treating your sister’s condition. Take the card and leave.” Joseph scoffed, his eyes filled with extreme disdain. “You just don’t have the confidence to cure Grace, do you? ‘Top expert’? I bet it’s all hype!” “Joseph, stop talking, my chest hurts…” Grace clutched her chest, breathing heavily. “Grace!” Joseph panicked, quickly motioning for the bodyguards to push the wheelchair. As he reached the door, he turned back and glared at me. After they left, I touched the cold sapphire necklace in my pocket. The next morning, right after I finished my rounds, Director Davies, who was usually all smiles, walked into my office with a grim expression. “Harper, you’re fired.” I stopped writing and looked up at him. “Reason?” “Reason?” The director snorted coldly. “What kind of attitude did you have towards Mr. Sterling yesterday? As a doctor, do you have any ethics, any humanitarian spirit? To refuse a seriously ill patient!” My gaze shifted downwards, catching sight of the brand-new watch on his wrist, which hadn’t been there yesterday. I understood. “How much did he pay you?” My tone was flat. The director’s face changed, then flushed with anger. “What nonsense! This is the hospital board’s decision! Pack your things and get out now!”

I didn’t say anything. I took off my lab coat, folded it, placed it on the back of my chair, picked up my car keys from the desk, and turned to leave. Joseph stood by a pillar in the middle of the hospital lobby, wearing sunglasses, one hand casually in his pocket. He was clearly waiting for me. Seeing me walk over, hugging a cardboard box, he took off his sunglasses, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Dr. Harper, leaving work so early?” “Yesterday, when you rejected me, you seemed pretty tough, didn’t you? How is it that today you can’t even keep your job?” He leaned in a little, lowering his voice. “Harper, starting today, no hospital in this country will dare to hire you.” He watched me, waiting to see a look of panic on my face, waiting for me to beg. But I didn’t. I just looked at him calmly. He frowned, seemingly displeased with my reaction. “However, I can offer you one last path.” “Come to my house, be Grace’s private doctor, on call twenty-four hours a day.” “Cure her, and I guarantee you’ll be set for life. What do you say?” I suddenly chuckled. “Joseph.” He paused. “Do you really think your family is the only one with money in this world?” I didn’t waste any more words, walking past him and out of the hospital. He didn’t know that I wasn’t just the Vice Director of this hospital or a famous internist in this city. I was also Mr. Allegri’s only adopted daughter, the head of the Allegri Medical Group. I came to this public hospital merely to hone my skills and complete the assessment Mr. Allegri had set for me. In the entire national medical field, the Allegri family was the true power. Blacklist me? Ridiculous. That evening, as I was scrolling through my phone, a trending topic about me popped up: Top Expert Refuses to Save Life, City Central Hospital’s Dr. Harper Accused of Bribery, Cold-Blooded Demon with No Medical Ethics. A video was going viral across the entire internet. It showed: Grace sitting in a wheelchair, her face haggard and distressed, constantly clutching her chest. Joseph was beside her, pleading with me to treat her: “Dr. Harper, please save my sister, we have money…” Then the camera cut to me, showing only a cold image: “I’m not taking her. Take the card and leave.” Immediately after, an account claiming to be an “insider” broke the news: “I’m an internal employee at City Central Hospital. This doctor is no good at all. She secretly demands money from patients!” “The Sterling family didn’t pay her enough, so she refused to treat the patient! The director found out about her misconduct and fired her this morning!” The comment section below was almost entirely filled with insults directed at me. “Viper! How can a woman like this even be a doctor?” “Even capitalists have more conscience than her! This doctor has no heart! Demanding a thorough investigation!” “Heard she got blacklisted across the internet, serves her right! Such scum should just die!” Grace also posted a tweet. The accompanying photo showed a pale, almost bluish wrist with an IV drip. The text read: “Perhaps my life is counting down, but I still believe there’s light in this world. I don’t blame Dr. Harper; it’s just my bad luck.” Countless people swarmed my account. My DMs were full of curses, morphed death photos, and other hateful messages. I scoffed internally. It was Director Davies who took Joseph’s bribe to fire me, yet he turned around and smeared my name. I’d experienced the same trick in my previous life. Grace had an “episode,” and he blamed it on me, then edited videos and fabricated lies to post online, ruining my reputation completely. I called Joseph. It rang several times before he picked up. His scornful and triumphant voice came through: “What? Dr. Harper finally giving up?” I didn’t respond to that. I just said, “Joseph, I agree to treat Grace.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end, then a burst of even more arrogant laughter. “If you knew this would happen, why resist in the first place?” I cut Joseph off. “But I have one condition. I want this consultation live-streamed across the entire internet.” The laughter on the other end ceased abruptly. “Live stream?” His voice turned cold. “Harper, you’re being trashed online right now. Are you live-streaming because you haven’t been insulted enough?” I looked out the window, a slow smile forming on my lips. “A live stream. In front of millions of people, I’ll humbly treat your family member. Isn’t that what you want?” “I can use this opportunity to publicly admit my mistakes and find a way out for myself.” Joseph was silent. After a few seconds, he let out a highly amused hum. “Harper, you really know how to play the game.” “Fine, since you want to publicly embarrass yourself, I’ll allow it.” “However,” I shifted my tone, “we must keep the live stream a secret from Grace. She’s a patient; knowing so many people are watching might make her emotional.” “If anything happens to her because of that, I won’t be responsible.” Joseph didn’t think much of it and readily agreed. The next morning, I arrived at the consultation location Joseph had set: the VIP ward floor on the top of City Central Hospital. Two familiar faces stood at the door. A man and a woman, both in their fifties. The man was tall, wearing a dark gray cashmere coat. The woman wore an elegant navy trench coat, exuding grace. “You’re Dr. Harper?” Eleanor, Joseph’s mother, asked in a gentle voice. I nodded. “That’s me.” She looked me up and down, then nodded slightly. “I’m Grace’s mother. I’ve heard about you.” “Dr. Harper, Grace is a child we raised since she was small. We are sincere in inviting you here today.” She took a business card from her bag and offered it to me. I didn’t take it, and she didn’t seem bothered. “Cure Grace, and fame and fortune are no issue.” “I’ll take care of you being fired from City Central Hospital.” “And I can guarantee that the Sterling Group’s resources within the national healthcare system will be at your disposal.” “This is the Sterling family’s sincerity.” I glanced at her. Unfortunately, I lacked none of what she offered. “Mrs. Sterling, I’m here to treat a patient today. We can discuss other matters after the consultation.” Eleanor’s eyes flickered but quickly returned to composure. Richard, Joseph’s father, cleared his throat when he heard me say that. His gaze wasn’t as gentle as Eleanor’s. “Harper, what my wife said is her intention.” “My intention is, if you can cure Grace’s illness, our family will not treat you unfairly.” He paused. “Your reputation is already in tatters. This live stream today, which you requested, is your last chance.” “If you can’t cure her, there will be no place for you in the entire medical industry.” I just stood there, meeting his gaze for three seconds. “Mr. Sterling, whether I can cure her or not, we’ll only know after the examination.” With that, I walked past him and pushed open the door to the ward. He frowned slightly, as if pondering something. Then he and Eleanor followed me in. Once inside, they didn’t say another word, but sat quietly to the side. Joseph was sitting on the sofa, peeling an apple. He glanced at me, then his eyes flickered towards the air conditioning vent, and then at the decorative ornament on the bedside table. He must have hidden the camera there.

At this very moment, a live stream channel was already open online. The title read: Cold-Blooded Medical Expert Dr. Harper Publicly Submits, Live Consultation Session. Because the Sterling Group was actively promoting it, coupled with the lingering heat from yesterday’s trending topic, countless netizens were fuming. Less than ten minutes after starting, millions of people flooded in, and the comments scrolled like a blizzard. “This scumbag finally backed down! Capitalism did a great job this time!” “Let’s all watch how this quack begs for mercy!” “My heart aches for Grace, having to face this demonic doctor.” Grace lay on the hospital bed, her face still haggard and pale. Seeing me, she flinched. “Joseph…” She had no idea that millions of eyes were watching her. “Don’t be afraid. She’s here to treat you this time.” Joseph handed her the apple, then stood up and walked over to me. Knowing he was on camera, he adopted a very arrogant posture. “Harper, start now. Hurry up and treat Grace.” “If you can’t cure her, you’ll be out of the medical field forever.” I ignored him, walking straight to the medical cart beside the bed. As I put on my gloves, I gave him a cold glance. Joseph gritted his teeth, but mindful of the camera, he restrained himself from reacting, just letting out a cold scoff. He stepped back, hands in his pockets, and the room fell silent. With my back to the hidden camera, I picked up the stethoscope and placed it on Grace’s chest. “Breathe in. Breathe out.” Grace was very cooperative, her breathing especially heavy, her brows furrowed. The comments again filled with sympathy for her and insults for me. I put down the stethoscope and picked up the stack of medical reports the Sterling family had accumulated from various hospitals over the years. Late-stage heart failure, myocardial ischemia. The diagnoses were increasingly severe. I flipped through them page by page, my brows slowly drawing together. After about five minutes, I threw the stack of reports onto the bed with a smack. Taking off my gloves, I turned around. “Grace, your condition is indeed quite difficult to treat.” Joseph scoffed towards the camera. “What do you mean? Aren’t you an authority? Even you can’t cure her? I think you’re just a quack!” The comments started flooding in again: “Quack! She really is a quack!” “She’s just trying to shirk responsibility! The Sterling family should blacklist her quickly!” I ignored them and said softly, “Because your sister isn’t sick at all.”

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“Mia madre è una maiale grassa e imponente.” Outside the kindergarten, my six-year-old son introduced me to the other kids in Italian. The kids didn’t understand, they just laughed along. I understood, because every single sound in that sentence was something I had taught him. I stood outside the school gate, seven months pregnant, my heart aching. Orwell saw me, and the smile instantly vanished from his face. I reached out for his backpack. But he pulled it behind him, wrinkling his nose. “Mom, you smell.” I froze. It’s easy to sweat in the late stages of pregnancy, but I’d definitely changed before leaving. A child nearby asked him, “Is that your mom?” Orwell didn’t answer right away. After a few seconds, he looked down and mumbled, “Yeah.” He said it reluctantly, as if admitting I was his mom was something shameful. I looked at him. “Who taught you that Italian phrase just now?” His eyes flickered. “What Italian phrase?” “You said I was like a fat pig.” He lowered his head, kicking at the leaves on the ground, saying nothing. I asked again, “Did Dad say it?” Orwell pursed his lips. “Everyone says that. Eleanor said you’re getting less like your old self since you got pregnant with my sister.” My belly gave a gentle kick. I leaned against the railing beside me. Suddenly, the burning sensation in my palm didn’t hurt as much. What truly hurt was that I had personally taught him to speak. But after he learned, the first thing he learned was how to despise me.

My name is Chloe. Before I got married, I was an Italian translator. The year Fisher first started his company, he couldn’t even write a proper business email. The first time we met an Italian client, everything from how to greet them, how to quote prices, to how to write the after-sales terms – I guided him through every single step. That night, the client changed their requirements at the last minute, and Fisher paced anxiously in the living room. I sat at the computer, revising the proposal from scratch, then translating it sentence by sentence into Italian. At two in the morning, he was asleep on the sofa. I was still replying to emails for him. Later, when the deal was signed, he got drunk at dinner and slapped his chest, saying, “Good thing I kept my cool.” I just smiled back then. Now that I think about it, he didn’t forget my contribution. He just never planned to credit me for it. Later, the company grew bigger and bigger. Fisher bought a new car, moved into a mansion, and everyone around him called him Mr. Fisher. After I got pregnant with Orwell, Eleanor, my mother-in-law, advised me to quit my job. “The first three years of a child’s life are crucial. Can you really trust strangers to raise them?” Fisher also said, “You just stay home and rest for a few years. I’ll make the money.” I believed him. And that ‘rest’ lasted for six years. In those six years, I raised Orwell from a crying infant into a bright, accomplished child. He played piano, played chess, and spoke foreign languages. His kindergarten teachers praised his intelligence, and relatives praised Fisher for his parenting. Eleanor always grinned from ear to ear, “Our family’s kids are just different.” No one ever mentioned me. Occasionally someone would ask, “Wasn’t Chloe a translator before?” Eleanor would cut in, “She’s got it good now, staying home with the kids. How hard can that be?” I used to smile, thinking there was no need to be petty with family. Until today, when Orwell used the Italian I taught him to insult me. He reached out again, “Mom, I want ice cream.” Before, when he reached out, I would immediately take his backpack, water bottle, and jacket, then ask him if he’d been good at school today. Today, I didn’t move. “No ice cream today.” He looked up at me. “Why?” “Because you just humiliated me.” He looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected me to say that. “But I didn’t say it in English.” I looked at him. “Using a different language doesn’t make it less hurtful.” His face flushed. “You’re mean. Eleanor says you’re always complaining since you got pregnant with my sister.” I opened the car door. “Get in.” He stood still. Before, when he did this, I would crouch down and coax him. Today, I just put his backpack in the car. “If you don’t get in, you can walk home.” Orwell froze. He looked at me as if it was the first time he’d ever heard me say something like that. Three seconds later, he cried. Loudly. Many parents at the school gate looked our way. I didn’t comfort him; I waited for him to cry. Eventually, he got tired of crying and climbed into the backseat. Halfway home, he deliberately unscrewed his water bottle cap, spilling water all over. I glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “You clean it up when we get home.” He said, “This is Dad’s car.” I said, “You’re the one who dirtied it.” He widened his eyes. “You never used to be like this.” The traffic light ahead turned red, and I hit the brakes. “I never knew you all would be like this, either.”

Back home, Eleanor was watching TV in the living room. Orwell immediately ran to complain. “Eleanor, Mom wouldn’t let me have ice cream, and she told me to clean the car!” Eleanor immediately put down the remote. “Chloe, why are you so impatient just because you’re pregnant? What’s wrong with Orwell wanting some ice cream?” I changed my shoes and placed my prenatal check-up book on the entryway cabinet. “He insulted me at the kindergarten gate today.” Eleanor frowned. “What could he have said to insult you?” I looked at her. “He said I was like a fat pig.” Her face stiffened, just for a moment. But I saw it. She knew. At least, she’d heard similar words before. Sure enough, the next second, she started to cover it up. “He’s just a kid, what does he know? He must have learned it from a cartoon.” “He said Fisher said it.” Eleanor’s face instantly darkened. “Don’t blame everything on Fisher. He’s so busy at work every day, when would he have time to teach the kid stuff like that?” I asked, “Then what about Mia?” The living room fell silent, the TV still playing laughter. None of us spoke. Mia, Fisher’s administrative assistant. Twenty-six years old, always wearing white dresses, speaking softly. Last month, she came to the house to deliver documents and brought Orwell a LEGO set. Orwell was thrilled all evening. At the time, I even laughed and said, “You’re so good with kids.” Now that I think about it, she really was good at charming people. A LEGO set and a few sweet words were enough to make a six-year-old remember her kindness. Meanwhile, all the sleepless nights I’d pulled, the meals I’d cooked, the hospital visits I’d made, the classes I’d attended – all of it just became “what a mother is supposed to do.” Orwell ran to grab the remote. “Eleanor, I want to watch cartoons.” I said, “No cartoons today.” Eleanor shielded him. “He’s been at school all day, what’s wrong with him relaxing a bit?” I took the remote. “He humiliated me today, so no cartoons.” Eleanor got agitated. “Why are you arguing with a six-year-old?” I looked at her. “When you were teaching him to look down on me, why didn’t you remember he was only six?” Her face turned ugly. “Don’t spread lies.” I ignored her. I went into the kitchen and cooked myself a bowl of pasta. Only one bowl. Eleanor stood at the doorway. “What’s Orwell eating tonight?” “You make him something.” She looked like she didn’t understand. “Didn’t you already cook?” “I only cooked for myself.” “Chloe, what do you mean?” I brought the pasta out and sat at the dining table. “It means that from today on, whoever feels sorry for him can cook for him.” Orwell sat on the sofa, staring at me, bewildered. I never used to let him go hungry. Even if he’d just thrown a tantrum at me, broken a knife or fork, I’d turn around and go into the kitchen to make him pudding, pan-fry a steak, or cut fruit. Today, I didn’t. Eleanor angrily went into the kitchen and started clanking pots. Ten minutes later, she brought out a plate of burnt steak. Orwell took a bite, frowning. “It tastes awful.” Eleanor’s face hardened. “Eat it anyway.” He looked at me. “Mom, I want your cooking.” I lowered my head and ate my pasta. “Not today.” His eyes reddened. “You don’t love me anymore.” That sentence used to work wonders on me. As soon as he asked if Mom didn’t love him anymore, I’d panic. I’d hug him, kiss him, and explain a hundred times that I loved him. Today, I just put down my knife and fork. “Love doesn’t mean you get to hurt me whenever you want.” He didn’t understand. But he knew, crying wouldn’t work this time.

Fisher returned at nine in the evening, carrying a paper bag. I recognized it at a glance; it was from the dessert shop Mia often bought from. Orwell rushed over. “Dad!” Fisher bent down to hug him, handing him the paper bag. “Mia got you this.” Orwell happily tore it open. Inside was a box of macarons. Eleanor smiled. “Mia is so thoughtful.” I sat on the sofa. “Fisher, we need to talk.” He paused while taking off his jacket. “About what?” “About what you’ve been saying about me in front of the kid.” Fisher glanced at Orwell. “What did Orwell say now?” I repeated the Italian phrase. His expression wasn’t shocked, just impatient at being exposed. “Chloe, can you just not be so sensitive right now?” I asked, “Did you say it or not?” He tugged at his tie. “Just joking around.” “Joking around with whom?” He didn’t speak. I answered for him. “Mia?” Eleanor immediately cut in. “Why are you bringing up Mia? She’s a good, decent girl, don’t think the worst of people.” I looked at her. “She’s so decent she buys Orwell desserts and teaches him to compare her to me?” Fisher frowned. “You’re getting more and more unpleasant.” I gave a small laugh. “I’m already like a pig, how much more unpleasant can I get?” Fisher was speechless. Orwell sat to the side, holding a macaron. He looked at me, then at his dad. Finally, he mumbled, “Mom, don’t argue.” I asked, “Why not?” He said, “Dad works really hard to earn money.” A six-year-old wouldn’t randomly feel sorry for a dad who “works really hard to earn money.” Unless someone taught him that every day. I looked at Eleanor. She avoided my gaze. I suddenly understood that Orwell hadn’t turned out like this overnight. He had simply learned, word by word, the daily contempt that the adults in this house let slip. I stood up. “Fisher, let’s get a divorce.” The TV was still laughing, but no one in the living room responded. A few seconds later, Eleanor was the first to shriek, “Are you crazy?” Fisher stared at me. “Just because of one sentence from the kid?” I looked at him. “It’s not just one sentence.” That sentence was just the final straw. It was when I finally heard clearly how much badmouthing this family had been doing behind my back.

Fisher didn’t take the divorce seriously; he even chuckled. “Chloe, you’re pregnant now, your emotions are unstable. I won’t argue with you.” I nodded. “Then let’s talk when I’m stable.” He thought that was the end of it. The next morning, he still tossed his worn shirt into the laundry basket. “Iron the blue one for me this afternoon. I have a dinner engagement tonight.” I stood at the sink, brushing my teeth. “Iron it yourself.” He froze. “What?” I spat out my mouthwash. “I said, iron it yourself.” Fisher frowned. “Chloe, don’t take your anger out on our daily life.” I looked at him in the mirror. “The clothes are yours, the dinner is yours, your reputation is yours. How did it become my daily life?” His face darkened. “You’re home all day, and you can’t even do this much?” I put my toothbrush back in the cup. “I’m home, but I’m not your household assistant.” He stared at me for a long time, then sneered. “Fine, you win.” After that day, the house quickly descended into chaos. Fisher couldn’t find his socks. Eleanor forgot to pack Orwell’s water bottle. No one set up Orwell’s online class equipment beforehand, and the teacher called his name for ages, but his microphone was still off. Who filled the water bottle? Who matched the socks? Who set up the equipment before class? No one asked. They just thought that’s how things were supposed to be. At 7:40 PM, Orwell called me from his room. “Mom, Italian class is about to start!” I walked to the door. “Not accompanying you today.” He froze. “Why?” “You’ll go by yourself from now on.” “I can’t!” I said, “You can insult people in Italian, so you must be learning well.” His face instantly flushed. “I don’t want to go by myself! The teacher said a parent has to be there!” “Then have your dad go.” Orwell opened his mouth. He knew his dad wouldn’t go. Fisher was busy, and Eleanor didn’t speak a foreign language. The only person in the house who could follow his entire lesson was me. Before, when he didn’t study well, I was more anxious than he was. I’d message the teacher, take notes, record the class afterwards, and organize his mistakes. He just had to sit there and wait for me to spoon-feed him the knowledge. Now that I wasn’t spoon-feeding him, he panicked. “Mom, I won’t say bad things about you anymore, okay? Please come to class with me?” I looked at him. “An apology isn’t meant to buy a service.” He didn’t understand the words. But he understood that I wouldn’t be there. That evening, the teacher called me. “Chloe, Orwell wasn’t doing very well today.” I said, “For future academic matters, please contact his father directly.” Five minutes later, Fisher’s phone rang. He was in his study on a video call. I heard him say in a hushed voice, “For things like the kid’s studies, just contact his mom.” The teacher must have said something, because Fisher looked my way. I sat on the sofa, slowly drinking water. He hung up, his tone harsh. “Chloe, do you have to drag the kid into this too?” I said, “The child isn’t just mine.” “But you always handled it before?” “So I was wrong before.” Fisher laughed in exasperation. “You’re just going to stop taking care of it now?” I put down my cup. “Yes.” He looked at me as if he were seeing me for the first time. Perhaps in his eyes, Chloe shouldn’t say “yes.” Chloe should explain, should feel wronged, should say, “That’s not what I meant.” But I didn’t want to explain anymore.

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I was a renowned gynecologist, widely recognized for my flawless delivery record spanning ten years. Until that day, I was accused of malpractice during surgery, resulting in a double fatality, claiming both mother and unborn child. But the truth was, the patient was already dead when I arrived. With all the evidence – witness testimonies, physical evidence, and surveillance footage – stacked against me, I was utterly defenseless. Overnight, my reputation was ruined, and I was sentenced to death. My parents, unable to bear the immense pressure, jumped to their deaths three days after my execution. When I opened my eyes again, I was back in my car, rushing to the hospital. Up ahead, traffic officers were directing vehicles at the intersection. I gritted my teeth and slammed my arm into the steering wheel. I heard a sharp *snap*, and clearly felt my right arm… fracture. Rather than waiting for death, I chose self-mutilation. One arm, for a chance at life. In the moment of my execution, only one thought consumed me: ‘Innocent.’ My name is Eliza, thirty-four years old, Chief of Gynecology at the hospital, and a candidate for Deputy Director. For ten consecutive years, I had a perfect delivery record. Even my fiancé was the hospital’s top surgeon, universally acclaimed. Everyone said I was blessed with a good life. Career, love, future – everything was top-tier. I, too, believed my life was exceptionally lucky. Yet, at that very moment, my perfect life ended. But I hadn’t made a surgical error, because the patient was already dead when I arrived. No one believed me. Witness testimonies, physical evidence, surveillance footage – it was all there. The investigation team claimed I had administered an overdose of anesthetic. My fingerprints were on the syringe, and the cameras captured me entering the operating room. Even my fiancé, Marcus, testified in court, accusing me of violating protocols: “Eliza was frantic, snatching up every surgery she could, all to secure that Deputy Director position.” “She was in a terrible state that day, I warned her, but she wouldn’t listen… She said once this surgery was done, the promotion would be hers.” “I never thought something like this would happen… I thought she was at least a doctor with a conscience…” I desperately tried to refute him, but his accusations sounded so genuine. Everyone believed him, praised him for putting justice above personal ties, and called me a monster. It wasn’t until after my death that I learned the truth. That surgery, it turns out, was performed by his junior colleague, Sophia. The patient was Sophia’s, the anesthetic was administered by her, and the surgical error was hers. Marcus, to protect her, hastily called me in, intending for me to take the fall for her. He had tampered with the surveillance footage, and he had swapped the syringe to one with my fingerprints. Everything was a setup, an elaborate trap! All to make me a scapegoat for his beloved Sophia. The day my death sentence was handed down, my parents were surrounded by reporters and the victim’s family outside the courthouse. They were unable to bear the immense pressure. Three days after my execution, they jumped to their deaths. My soul could only watch helplessly, unable to do anything. I was filled with hatred, with injustice; I couldn’t rest in peace. As extreme rage consumed me, I suddenly opened my eyes. The dim streetlights shone into the car window. I grabbed my phone: March 29th, 2026, 9:22 PM. I had been reborn. Reborn to thirty minutes before I was to drive to the hospital for the surgery.

I sat in the driver’s seat, my heart hammering against my ribs, threatening to burst from my chest. Suddenly, my phone vibrated. Marcus’s name flashed across the screen. “Eliza, where are you?” “The patient is about to deliver, and the family specifically asked for you, saying they came for your reputation.” “Pre-op preparations are all done, just waiting for you to get on stage!” His voice was hurried, completely unlike the usually calm and elegant top surgeon. I knew why. At this point in the original timeline, the patient was already dead. Dead by the hands of his beloved Sophia, and he was rushing me there to take the blame. “On the road, traffic.” My voice was so calm it sounded unfamiliar even to myself. “Hurry up and get here!” “At this crucial point, as soon as this surgery is done, your Deputy Director nomination is secure.” “Then, my parents won’t object to us getting married anymore. Hurry, you need to be fast!” He lowered his voice, as if offering a bribe. In my previous life, I was deceived by those very words, rushing into the operating room like an idiot, and then falling headfirst into the trap he’d dug for me. I hung up and checked the time, 9:26 PM. Twenty-six minutes remained until the fateful surgery of my past life. I sat in the driver’s seat, my fingers trembling uncontrollably. The scenes from my death in the previous life replayed in my mind. The needle piercing my vein. My parents plummeting from the rooftop. Marcus accusing me in court, saying I was frantic for surgeries to get a promotion. If I stepped into that operating room before 9:52 PM, all the evidence would condemn me. No! Not this time. I absolutely would not repeat the same mistakes. But what could I do now? I couldn’t go to the hospital. I couldn’t enter that operating room. I couldn’t touch that surgery. Because they had meticulously planned every step. The moment I arrived, I would walk right into their trap. The evidence would automatically converge, leaving me no room to fight back. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. I needed an airtight alibi at 9:52 PM. What kind of alibi would be ironclad? One that could prevent their false accusations? One that would turn all his arrangements into a joke? I looked up and saw traffic officers directing cars at the intersection ahead. Suddenly, an idea formed in my mind. I would injure myself. I would be sent to the emergency room. I would be lying on someone else’s operating table. Only then, at 9:52 PM, would I be fully documented in the ER by doctors, nurses, and surveillance, instead of being framed in the operating room. One arm, for one life – this was the only way out. Without a moment’s hesitation, I gritted my teeth and violently slammed my right arm into the steering wheel.

I heard a sharp *snap*, and clearly felt the bone break. Excruciating pain instantly exploded, and cold sweat immediately drenched me. My vision blurred, and I nearly passed out. Enduring the sharp pain, I used my left hand to press the horn twice. My arm was broken; I was a patient. There was no way I could be performing surgery! The traffic officer ahead immediately noticed the anomaly and hurried over to tap on my car window. “What’s wrong? Do you need help?” I was in too much pain to speak, my face pale, my forehead covered in sweat. I pointed to my right arm with my left hand. The officer’s expression changed immediately when he saw the unnatural angle of my arm: “A broken arm? How did this happen?” I didn’t answer, just shook my head in agony. Without another word, the officer spoke into his walkie-talkie: “Injured person at the intersection, right arm broken, needs immediate medical attention!” Soon, an ambulance arrived, and I was loaded onto a stretcher. Red and blue lights flashed as it sped toward the hospital with sirens blaring. I lay on the stretcher, drenched in cold sweat, my right arm burning with pain. But the enormous weight on my heart had finally lifted. At 9:52 PM, I would be entering the ER. No matter how perfect their setup, they couldn’t make me be in two places at once. Ten minutes later, I was taken into the treatment room. Doctors and nurses surrounded me, cutting open my sleeve. X-rays, anesthetic, reduction. People came and went in the treatment room. I was shaking from the pain, but my consciousness remained clear. I glanced at the clock on the wall: 9:49 PM. Only three minutes remained until the patient’s fabricated time of death in Marcus’s timeline. In my previous life, I would have been entering the operating room at this exact moment, captured by surveillance video. Coupled with the physical evidence bearing my fingerprints, intentionally placed by Marcus, I would have been utterly defenseless. But in this life, I was in the treatment room. Two traffic officers, three medical personnel, and seven surveillance cameras would all serve as my alibi. “Sign here.” The nurse handed me the admission consent form. I caught a glimpse of the wall clock with my peripheral vision: 9:52 PM. It was precisely the time Marcus had fabricated as the patient’s death in my past life. I signed my name, clicked submit, and the time froze at 9:52 PM. It was done! At the exact time of the patient’s death, I was in the treatment room. With surveillance footage, medical records, and full documentation from the medical staff. Marcus couldn’t talk his way out of this; he couldn’t make me appear in two places at once. Just as I was about to breathe a sigh of relief, my phone rang. It was Marcus. I glanced at it, but didn’t answer. He must be frantic now, right? His beloved Sophia’s malpractice had resulted in a double fatality, and he wanted me to take the blame, but couldn’t find me. Serves him right! I simply turned off my phone. By the time the reduction was done and the cast was applied, it was past ten o’clock. I leaned back on the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. In my previous life, at this time, I would have already been taken away by the police, and the news would have broken. “Women’s Hospital Chief Doctor Eliza’s Malpractice Leads to Patient’s Death!” But in this life, I never entered the operating room. I was alive, and I was innocent. My parents wouldn’t die either. I closed my eyes, wondering what was happening in the operating room. But I could guess that Marcus hadn’t been idle. He must have changed his plan, intending to shift the blame for the operating room malpractice and patient’s death onto me. Sure enough, a moment later, hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway. The door burst open, and a police officer in uniform entered first. “Eliza?” He flashed his badge and said: “We’re from the Criminal Investigations Unit.” “Someone just reported a medical accident at the hospital, resulting in a patient’s death, and you are suspected of violating protocols.” “Please cooperate with the investigation and come with us.”

Hearing that, all the surrounding nurses froze. I, however, remained exceptionally calm, because I had already been through this once. Only this time, I hadn’t gone into the hospital’s operating room; I had a solid alibi. “Medical accident?” I feigned confusion, asking, “What medical accident?” “An hour ago, at 9:52 PM, a surgery you performed resulted in the patient’s death on the operating table.” “The cause of death was an anesthetic overdose, leading directly to cardiac arrest.” The detective stated in a cold voice: “Surgeon Marcus identified you as the one who performed this surgery, and the syringe used to inject the anesthetic also has your fingerprints on it.” I listened quietly. Every detail was exactly the same as in my previous life. If this were my past life, I would have already collapsed by now. I would have frantically tried to explain. But now, I just looked up, calmly meeting his gaze: “You said, what was the patient’s time of death?” The detective paused: “The surgical record shows 9:52 PM.” 9:52 PM? I almost laughed out loud. 9:52 PM was when I signed the admission consent form. The detective said no more, raising a hand to signal the people behind him to step forward: “Take her back to the station for interrogation.” Just then, a nurse suddenly reached out to stop them: “Wait a minute.” He slapped the patient’s medical record onto the table, pointed to the signature time on it, and asked: “This patient broke her right arm at 9:26 PM and was undergoing fracture reduction in the treatment room at 9:52 PM.” “X-rays, surveillance, medical staff signatures, it’s all here.” “Now you tell me, how could she simultaneously be in the operating room causing someone’s death?” The detective was about to speak when someone suddenly rushed in from outside the door – Marcus. He grabbed my wrist, looking utterly distraught: “Eliza, the patient is dead! Don’t you know that?” “You need to cooperate with the investigation right now and explain everything clearly, and you might get a lighter sentence!” His words, on the surface, seemed to be for my good, but in reality, every word was cementing my status as a murderer. I sneered and retorted, “The patient’s death has nothing to do with me. I never even entered the operating room.” Marcus’s face changed, and his grip on my hand tightened further: “Eliza, don’t talk nonsense in front of the police.” “And all the evidence points to you now. If you confess, the judge will consider a reduced sentence…” Saying this, he turned his head to the detective, his tone earnest: “Officer, she might just be confused right now… I’m advising her, I’m advising her to confess… Will confessing lead to a reduced sentence?” Reduced sentence? He wished for my immediate execution. Taking a deep breath, I was about to produce the evidence to shut him up. But Sophia followed closely behind, bringing the patient’s family with her: “Eliza, I know you wanted to snatch this surgery to prove yourself… but how could you…” “How could you gamble with the lives of the patient and her baby for a promotion…” As if things weren’t chaotic enough, she threw another accusation my way: “Actually… the patient and baby could have been saved, but Eliza… made frequent errors, which led to the patient… a double fatality…” Hearing that, anger flared within me. Staring at her, I said each word distinctly: “Sophia, you were the one who performed that surgery.” “You were the one whose error led to the patient’s death, not me.” Her face paled, and her tears fell even harder. She retreated half a step, shrinking behind Marcus, whimpering softly: “Eliza… how could you accuse me… This was clearly your doing…” Marcus immediately stepped in front of her, glaring at me: “Eliza, how long are you going to keep this up?!” I wasn’t “keeping it up.” But I didn’t get a chance to explain. Because the patient’s family was too emotional; they lunged at me without thinking: “It was you! You killed my wife!” A middle-aged man suddenly rushed up, his eyes bloodshot, and kicked my newly bandaged right arm. Pain. Excruciating pain. My newly bandaged arm was broken again. The pain made my vision blur, and cold sweat instantly drenched me. I gritted my teeth, trying to explain: “I didn’t… kill anyone… It wasn’t me!” But no one listened. The patient’s mother even dropped to her knees, pounding the floor and wailing uncontrollably: “Oh, God, my daughter was only twenty-six!” “Her baby never even saw this world! How can this murderer still be alive?!” Cries, curses, and attempts to break up the fight mixed together. The room instantly descended into pandemonium. All eyes were on me, as if I were a heinous criminal. I clutched my right arm, leaning against the wall, trembling from the pain. And the patient’s husband, still agitated, was about to kick me again. “Stop!” The detective finally reacted, reaching out to separate the family members, and said: “This patient broke her right arm at 9:26 PM and was undergoing fracture reduction in the treatment room at 9:52 PM.” “X-rays, surveillance, medical staff signatures, it’s all here. She couldn’t possibly have been on the operating table causing someone’s death!” The room fell silent instantly. Marcus’s face turned white. Sophia completely froze.

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At my mom’s funeral, my fiancée Georgina suddenly spoke. “Actually, your mom had a heart attack because she walked in on Phillips and me having sex.” My eyes widened in disbelief. Phillips was my mom’s boyfriend. My girlfriend cheated on me with my mom’s boyfriend? Georgina continued, “Phillips and I were a couple since college. He only had to date your mom because he needed to save money for his family’s medical treatment.” “Your mom struggled for forty minutes when she collapsed at the door. But we were too engrossed to hear anything, and by the time we found her, she was gone.” She looked at Mom’s portrait without a trace of guilt, a smile playing on her lips. “Your mom monopolized the man I loved for five years, and I played her son for five years. We’re even.” “Now that I’ve achieved success and Phillips is free, I’m going to marry him.” Seeing that I didn’t speak, Georgina took my hand. “Don’t worry, our wedding will still happen, so you won’t lose face in front of your friends.” “But the marriage certificate, I can only register with Phillips.”

I clutched my chest, letting out a mournful gasp. “Why are you telling me this now?” Georgina lowered her gaze and chuckled softly, her fingertips hooking my chin. “Probably just to see the expression on your face right now.” “Back then, I dropped out of college and gave all my tuition money to Phillips, but it still wasn’t enough to treat his father’s illness. But your mom took advantage of the situation and forced him to be with her.” “I was just as heartbroken back then.” She swept her gaze towards Mom’s portrait, her eyes glinting with a winner’s disdain. “Now, let her watch her son like this. Consider it my final revenge.” My heart was torn to shreds by those words. Back then, I turned down an engagement arranged by my elders long ago. I specifically fell for Georgina, who was just the owner of a small shooting club. Mom doted on me, providing her with startup capital, connecting her with valuable contacts, showering her with resources, and supporting her company every step of the way until it became successful. Georgina said meeting me was her greatest fortune, and that she and Mom would be the ‘big trees’ behind me, protecting and loving me for life. Now another tree had fallen because of her. Yet she told me that five years of affection was nothing but revenge. Georgina raised a hand to wipe away my tears. “Why are you crying? I never said I don’t like you. But I couldn’t protect Phillips back then, so you have to give me a chance to make up for that regret.” “Besides, you’re too tame in bed. I was always afraid of hurting you, so I had to go to him to really let loose. Isn’t it great that someone can share that burden with you?” Looking at her familiar yet strange face, a chill suddenly ran down my spine. Georgina was about to say more, but Phillips suddenly appeared and yelled, “Enough! What does his mom’s mistake have to do with him? Can’t you see he’s trembling?!” He guiltily took my hand. “Stephenson, I didn’t mean to keep it from you, I just didn’t want to hurt you.” “I swear, registering our marriage is just to fulfill Georgina’s and my long-held wish. Once we’re registered, I’ll divorce her right away, okay?” But Georgina grabbed his wrist, her voice commanding and strong. “Impossible! I’ve waited five years for you; I’m not letting go this time!” Watching her unabashedly declare her possessiveness over another man, I gave a self-deprecating laugh. Phillips used to be our part-time driver. Like Georgina, he was only four years older than me. His physique was as fiery as his temper, and he brought a lot of vitality to our stagnant home. Initially, when I learned he became my mom’s boyfriend, I was resistant. But when my cousin mocked me as a fatherless bastard, Phillips grabbed a bottle and rushed over, getting his own head busted. He said my mom was the gentlest and most beautiful person he had ever met. Age doesn’t hinder true love; he genuinely liked my mom and truly cared for me. I slowly accepted him, treating him as a confidant, sharing all my secret thoughts. Now he says it was all my mom’s fault. How ridiculous. “Don’t touch me! You’re disgusting!” I yanked my hand away, my voice trembling. “Get out! You’ll get what’s coming to you!” Seeing me frantically wiping my hands on my clothes, Phillips’s face changed. Georgina shielded him behind her, frowning. “Phillips already gave up the wedding for you. He just wants to register the marriage. In the eyes of outsiders, you’ll still be the future man of the house.” “You’re emotionally unstable right now, so it’s good to calm down. Phillips can stay with me these next few days.” “But Stephenson, your mom’s gone, and now I’m the only one you can rely on. Don’t be so headstrong.” They left hand in hand. In her portrait, Mom’s face was still so kind. I finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst into tears. “Mom, I’m so stupid, aren’t I?” “Played by my lover and friend for so long, and I dragged you into it too.” But I couldn’t fall apart. Mom was gone, and someone still needed to keep the company afloat. But the next morning, I received a text from a friend. “Stephenson, why was your family company’s sign taken down? Are you changing the name?”

When I stormed into the CEO’s office, Phillips was wearing the wedding suit that was originally meant for me, and Georgina was pressing him into a kiss. His neck and collarbone were covered in hickeys. Georgina raised an eyebrow slightly. “What are you doing here?” How ridiculous. They were in my family’s company, sitting in what used to be my mom’s office, asking me why *I* was there? Phillips nervously stood up, trying to explain. “Stephenson, don’t overthink it. I can’t have a wedding with Georgina.” “She said it would look good on me, and wanted to try it on. I’ll go take it off and give it back to you right now.” He made a move to go to the break room, but Georgina wrapped her arms around his waist. “Return what? It was custom-made to your measurements. We’ll wear this for our commemorative photos when we register our marriage in a few days. Stephenson doesn’t have your physique; he couldn’t pull it off.” “There are plenty of suits for sale outside. He can just buy one then. If he really likes this one, after you’re done with it, we can alter the size for him. The wedding is at the end of the month, anyway.” This suit was custom-designed by Georgina, who personally flew abroad to find a designer. I was afraid she wouldn’t know my measurements, so I specifically wrote her a note. But Georgina casually tossed it into the trash, then, pretending to be angry, she kissed me fiercely. “Your size? How could I not know it? Who are you looking down on?” “Penalty: you have to kiss me.” As sweet as it felt then, that’s how heartbroken I was now. The ‘darling’ she spoke of, turned out to be someone else. I took a deep breath, and suppressing my nausea, I asked, “What right do you have to order the removal of my family company’s sign? And by what authority are you sitting here?” Phillips bit his lip and spoke softly, “Stephenson, Georgina is now the new CEO.” I froze, unable to comprehend what she meant for a moment. Georgina has her own company, why would she become the CEO of my family’s company? And when did she acquire the shares? “Stephenson, last month, your family’s company first lost a key client, then couldn’t collect payments from downstream suppliers, leading to a sharp drop in revenue and widespread internal unrest.” “Compounded by your mom’s sudden death, negative news spread like wildfire, and many shareholders were dumping their stocks at low prices. I was the one who bought them back in time.” As if sensing my confusion, Georgina got up and adjusted her collar. “Now I hold 40% of the shares, more than what your mom left you. The board members are smart people; they know who can lead the company to greater success.” “I can not only bring back the key client and collect the outstanding payments, but also promise them higher returns.” Georgina cupped my face, her eyes glinting with amusement. “But Stephenson, what can you offer them? Your tears?” “You’re a hothouse flower, pampered and overprotected by your mom.” “You don’t even understand business operations, how can you handle the cutthroat world of commerce?” “Be a good boy. From now on, you just need to stay home, enjoy life, and collect your dividends at the end of the year.” “As for outside engagements, Phillips will accompany me. He’s more suited for such occasions than you.” I couldn’t stop trembling all over. I might not understand, but I wasn’t an idiot. Georgina had revealed her hatred for Mom yesterday, and she had always been ambitious. Every single one of these incidents was clearly her doing. But watching her paint herself as a savior with such understatement, my heart still ached with spasms. That year, in my senior year of college, my classmates and I went to a nearby small shooting club. One of the girls who I had rejected before scoffed, “Oh, Stephenson, you actually dare to touch a gun? Can you even use one?” “Don’t wet yourself again. Even if you begged to be with me, I’d still find you disgusting.” That’s when Georgina appeared. She steadied my hand and fired nine shots, hitting the bullseye every single time. On the tenth shot, the muzzle suddenly turned, pointing directly at the girl’s head. Though I was terrified, I quickly nudged the barrel away, and the bullet whizzed past her ear. The girl’s face went pale with fright, her pants were soaked, emitting an unpleasant smell. Georgina lowered her gaze and chuckled softly, “Look, now it’s you, a pathetic coward who only bullies the weak and fears the strong, who should be thanking someone for their kindness and innocence.”

I asked her why she helped me, and she winked at me, joking, “Ever read fairy tales? A gentle little prince always has a Rose Knight to protect him.” Later, when we were together, she really did give me a strong sense of security. But reality isn’t a fairy tale. The Rose Knight’s sharp sword ultimately turned against the Little Prince. I clenched my hands, letting my fingernails dig into my flesh. “Georgina, I’d rather die than be your other man.” Before she could speak, Phillips grabbed me, trying to mediate. “Stephenson, don’t be so headstrong. We’re trying to protect you.” Phillips’s family was poor. His brother once showed up, wanting to forcibly marry him off to an old woman. When I went to rescue him, I was stabbed in the lower abdomen, completely losing my ability to have children. If Georgina hadn’t arrived with people in time, I might not have even survived. Phillips stayed by my hospital bed, crying his eyes out. “Stephenson, you took that knife for me. For the rest of my life, I’ll shield you from all hardships.” Hearing that, I gave a self-deprecating laugh, then raised my hand and slapped him. “Your ‘protection’ means betraying my mom and wanting me to be your other man with your fiancée?” “Phillips, I really regret not letting that knife kill you back then.” Phillips’s face paled, and his eyes instantly welled up. Georgina sprang up, giving me a forceful shove. She shielded him behind her, saying coldly, “Stephenson, apologize!” “No! You two scumbags are the ones who should apologize!” Georgina’s face completely darkened, and she sneered, “Stephenson, you’ve really been spoiled by your mom. It’s okay, I’ll make you grow up.” “Now get out immediately, don’t keep me from comforting Phillips.” I stumbled out of the office building, dazed, and looked up at the company sign. My parents started their business shortly after I was born. They named the company HAPPY, hoping I’d have a safe and happy life forever. It was their boundless love for me. But now, HAPPY was gone. The new name replacing it was ‘G&P’. Georgina’s heart, belongs to Phillips. Five years of genuine devotion, nothing but a premeditated revenge. Even the company Mom built from the ground up became a tool for them to flaunt their affection. I dialed a number. “Hello, I accept your proposal. I’ll fly to Los Angeles this week and marry you.” “I don’t need any dowry; I just need your help with something.” Not wanting to return to that empty house, I went to the cemetery on the outskirts of the city. But as soon as I arrived, I found a group of people vandalizing Mom’s gravestone. They were live-streaming on their phones, filled with righteous indignation. “We found that slut’s grave!” “That bitch was lucky to die so early, but we won’t let her off easy. Justice may be delayed, but it will come!” Only then did I realize that Mom and I were both trending on social media, being publicly shamed. There were photos of Mom kindly giving Phillips money for his family’s medical treatment. And photos of me slapping Phillips in the office. Back then, Phillips cried tears of gratitude, saying he wanted to repay Mom. I clearly remember Mom saying there was no need, that it wasn’t easy for young people to make their way in the world. But now it was being twisted, claiming my mom, relying on her wealth, had coerced and intimidated a young boy into becoming her lover. Even Phillips’s swollen eyes were portrayed as him being resentful but unable to speak out, suffering immense grievances. They praised Georgina as a heroine who had endured humiliation for years, finally achieving success and reclaiming her love. They praised her for changing the company name so well. And Mom became a social pariah, reviled by everyone. My phone kept buzzing with messages, all from elders who used to be close with Mom, and friends, trying to confirm the facts. But I couldn’t respond, because that person was excitedly shouting, “Want to see this slut’s body completely destroyed?!” “If we get over 500 likes, a few of us will immediately dig up her ashes!”

That’s enough! Seriously, enough! I couldn’t bear to listen anymore. Just as I was about to rush over, I was suddenly pulled back forcefully. Georgina, followed by several bodyguards, frowned at me. “Are you crazy? Those are all agitated men, who can you stop? You’ll just get hurt for nothing!” I forcefully shook off her hand and yelled, “Don’t pretend to be kind! Do you think I don’t know that all of this is your doing?!” “Georgina, my mom never forced Phillips; it was all his choice!” “My mom was kind to you; how can you do this to her?!” Exposed by me, Georgina showed no sign of guilt. She sneered. “It’s precisely because I considered that, that I didn’t do it myself. Compared to how your mom snatched Phillips away from me back then, I’ve been quite lenient.” “You’re her son, of course you’d say that. But I believe Phillips; he wouldn’t lie to me.” “Since you know now, Stephenson, you should know what to do.” That person immediately shrieked excitedly, “Holy cow, thanks to this righteous person, we’re only 100 away now! Everyone, push harder!” “Every second you hesitate is a show of leniency toward this slut!” I clenched my fists suddenly. She would actually go through with it! Taking a deep breath, I said, “Okay, I’ll go apologize to Phillips.” To my surprise, Georgina shook her head. “Phillips is kind-hearted. He knows you’re sensitive, so an apology isn’t necessary.” “You just need to give him the 15% shares your mom left you, as an apology.” I looked at her in disbelief. “Georgina, that’s the last thing my mom left me.” She gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “Silly, with me taking care of you, what good are those things to you?” “Your mom took up five years of Phillips’s youth; consider it compensation for him. You love me so much, you wouldn’t disappoint me, right?” Her tone was as gentle as ever, but I detected a full measure of coldness. In the live stream, they were only fifty likes short of five hundred. Georgina raised her phone again, her fingertip hovering lightly over the ‘Boost’ button. “Stephenson, Phillips is waiting for me. I can only give you three seconds.” “Three.” “Two.” My sharp fingernails dug into my flesh, and blood seeped out. “Okay, I promise!” Georgina made a satisfied call, shutting down that person’s live stream and removing all trending topics. At the same time, she ordered her bodyguards to drive away the crowd causing trouble at the cemetery. Watching me sign the contract, she pinched my cheek. “I just love how obedient and kind you are.” “See? Now, besides me, you have no one else to rely on. Be this good in the future, okay? I’ll take good care of you, just like your mom would have.” “City Hall on Friday, help Phillips and me with photos. Don’t be late. I promise you, I’ll give you a grand wedding at the end of the month.” After Georgina left, I staggered to Mom’s gravestone. I tried my best to wipe the paint off her photo on the gravestone with my sleeve. But unexpectedly, those people from earlier returned, carrying shovels. “So you’re her son.” “Your mom monopolized that young man, and you stole someone else’s girlfriend. Your whole family is shameless trash!” “Don’t think that just because you got the live stream shut down, we’ll let her off the hook. Today, we’ll turn her to dust and exact heavenly justice!” Terrified, I tried to stop them, but they shoved me down. In a blink of an eye, the gravestone was shattered to pieces. In my helplessness, I called Georgina. It took a long time for her to answer. “Georgina, help me, those people are back, they’re going to my mom’s…” “That’s enough, Stephenson. Don’t bring up your mom again; it’s disgusting to hear. Because of you, Phillips’s red marks still haven’t faded from his face.” “He’s worried sick it’ll affect the photos on registration day. I’m busy helping him apply compresses. Instead of discussing dead people, you should practice your photography skills!” My hand dropped limply. While holding me down, those people laughed as they smashed Mom’s urn to smithereens. Even her ashes were defiled by their filth. The sky suddenly unleashed a torrential downpour, washing everything away in the blink of an eye. Only then, muttering curses about bad luck, did they toss me aside. I knelt numbly on the ground, clutching a shattered piece of the gravestone inscribed with Mom’s name. My tears instantly burst forth. “Mom, I’m sorry.” “Give me some time; I will definitely get justice for you!” On Friday, City Hall was packed with people. Because Georgina and Phillips were finally getting their happy ending, many media outlets and curious onlookers came to witness the moment. “True love really can overcome all obstacles; after all the twists and turns, they’re still together.” “I always felt Stephenson was too soft-looking; he could never handle a sexy beauty like Ms. Georgina. It has to be a hunk like Phillips.” “Where did Stephenson go? Wasn’t he supposed to take photos for the happy couple? Maybe he realized how shameless he and his mom are and dared not show his face?” Hearing that, Georgina suddenly found it a bit grating. She gave a cold glance, then lowered her gaze to check the time. It was already half an hour past the agreed time. These past few days, I hadn’t sent her a single message. I had always been a good boy, and very dependent on her. Even when angry, I was always the first to back down. It was precisely because of this that Georgina was convinced I would never leave her. But this time, a sudden unease stirred within her. Just as she was about to call me, a reporter from some media outlet suddenly raised their phone and shouted, “Oh my god, Stephenson just registered his marriage with the Casino Magnate’s daughter!”

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My boyfriend’s face was full of impatience when he ditched me at our anniversary dinner because of a call from his childhood sweetheart. “I was with you through thick and thin. She just got fired and is a mess. What’s the big deal about being a little understanding?” I froze, pulling at the corners of my stiff lips. There it was again: “I was with you through thick and thin.” Ever since we pulled through the toughest times of our startup three years ago, that phrase had been his golden ticket out of any argument. I had a high fever and urgently needed to go to the hospital. But he drove to pick up his drunk childhood sweetheart: “I lived in a leaky basement with you. Why are you making a fuss about taking a cab to the ER by yourself?” I worked overtime for a month straight, my stomach hurt so bad I broke out in a cold sweat. But he brought homemade chicken soup to Chloe, who was suffering from period cramps: “I ate expired bread with you for six months. Are you really going to fuss over a bowl of soup with her?” Now, watching him rush out of the restaurant without a backward glance, I coldly called the waiter for the check. He probably forgot. Today was the day I said yes to his proposal. I managed a bitter smile and took off the diamond ring on my finger. If he loved suffering so much. Then he could forget about touching a single penny of our future wealth.

“Send over that haute couture necklace. Chloe just got fired, she’s really upset, she needs something to distract her.” “I was there for you during your severe depression. Are you really going to fuss over a necklace?” Ethan’s SnapChat lit up on the screen. I stared at those words, my fingertips trembling. He always did this, skillfully rewriting history, portraying himself as a long-suffering savior. But he forgot why I had severe depression in the first place. It was to secure investments for him. I drank with investors until my stomach bled, ending up in the hospital for half a month. It was to cover the financial collapse caused by his poor decisions. I sold the heirlooms my grandmother left me, and for six months straight, I slept only three hours a day. Now, he was taking the money I risked my life for, to comfort another woman. I didn’t reply, slamming my foot on the gas. I turned the car around and drove towards the villa, our dream home we’d just gotten the keys to last month. The moment I pushed open the door, the villa was brightly lit. I froze in the entryway, my blood turning to ice instantly. Chloe was wearing the wedding dress I’d finalized after thirteen rounds of revisions. She stood in front of the massive floor-to-ceiling mirror. Ethan was half-kneeling on the floor, carefully adjusting the hem of her skirt. Hearing the door open, Chloe’s eyes immediately welled up: “Scarlett, please don’t get the wrong idea.” “I was so upset about getting fired today. Ethan said this wedding dress was beautiful and told me to try it on to feel a moment of happiness…” “I’ll take it off right away.” She said she’d take it off, but her hands clutched the skirt tightly. A tear splashed onto Ethan’s hand. Ethan immediately stood up, shielding her behind him: “Scarlett, what are you doing back? Who are you glaring at with that sour face?” “Chloe is already feeling down. Can you stop being so harsh and unforgiving?” I looked at my cherished wedding dress, being trampled under her feet. My voice was cold, like ice: “Take it off.” “Are you insane?!” Ethan roared, lunging forward and grabbing my wrist. “It’s just a dress!” “When we were at our lowest during the startup, I lived with you in a leaky basement and ate moldy bread.” “Now you’re upset about lending a wedding dress to Chloe? Why are you suddenly so materialistic?” Materialistic, huh? What a joke.

I forcefully yanked my hand away from him, stepping closer: “Ethan, you ate moldy bread because you spent all our remaining money paying off your mom’s gambling debts!” “The night the basement flooded, I had a 102-degree fever, scooping water out with a bucket, while you were at the internet cafe playing games, escaping reality!” “How dare you use my suffering to manipulate me into backing down!” I suddenly reached out, grabbing the neckline of the wedding dress Chloe was wearing. “Ah!” Chloe shrieked. “Scarlett! Don’t you dare touch her!” A flicker of panic crossed Ethan’s eyes. He didn’t hesitate, raising his hand and shoving my shoulder hard. He put all his strength into that push. I was caught off guard, tumbling backward. I crashed heavily into the glass display cabinet behind me. Glass shards instantly cut my arm and the side of my face. Blood dripped onto the expensive carpet. But what pierced me to the core was the cheap clay figurine inside the cabinet. It was a token of his promise to love me forever, molded by Ethan himself during our first year of startup. Now, it lay mixed with shattered glass. Smashed to pieces, beyond repair. The air was dead silent. Ethan looked at the blood on my face, his fingers freezing for a moment. But the next second, Chloe tugged on his sleeve, letting out a soft sob. He looked down at me, sprawled in a pool of blood, his voice full of impatience: “Scarlett, you brought this on yourself.” “You’re not just selfish; now you’re acting like a shrew.” “You’d better stay in this house and think about what you’ve done. Don’t come looking for me until you’ve learned to be more understanding.” With that, he didn’t even glance at me. He took off his suit jacket, draped it over Chloe, and escorted her out of the villa without looking back. I sat amidst the wreckage, not crying. The wound on my face hurt, but that rotten piece of my heart that had festered for three years. It was finally completely excised at that moment. I grabbed a tissue from the coffee table to cover my bleeding face. With my other uninjured hand, I pulled out my phone and dialed my lawyer. “Mr. Harrison.” The voice on the other end was respectful. I looked at the shattered clay on the floor, my voice calm: “Initiate the asset divestment procedure in three days.” “All supplementary credit cards under Ethan’s name will be frozen in three days.” The lawyer on the other end gasped: “Ms. Scarlett, have you finally decided?” I pulled at the corner of my mouth, blood seeping through the tissue. “Yes.” I coldly watched Ethan’s departing taillights outside the floor-to-ceiling window.

I sat amidst the wreckage, watching Ethan’s taillights disappear into the night. The wound on my face was still bleeding, dripping onto the smashed clay figurine. He had molded it bit by bit during the year I suffered from severe depression. He said, “Scarlett, even if it breaks, I can put you back together.” But now, he was the one who had shattered me. I didn’t call an ambulance. I just grabbed a random bandage and pressed it to my face. Ignoring the searing pain, I painstakingly picked up the fragments of the figurine. Tiny shards of glass dug into my fingertips; the pain was intense, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. At three in the morning, Ethan’s call came in. I thought he’d at least ask about my injuries. But the moment I answered, his irritated voice barraged me: “Have you made enough of a scene? Chloe’s heart condition flared up because your crazy act scared her tonight!” “You need to move out first thing tomorrow morning and clear out the master bedroom. I’m bringing her back to rest.” I clutched my phone tightly, my knuckles white: “Ethan, that’s our home.” “It’s just a place to live!” “I was there for you during your darkest days, when you wanted to die. Now you’re unwilling to even give up a room?” “Scarlett, what is your heart made of? How can you be so cold-blooded!” “Beep—beep—” The call was mercilessly cut off. The next morning, I was still running a low fever when the front door was unlocked. Ethan walked in brazenly with Chloe. Chloe wasn’t just wearing my haute couture wedding dress. She even had the pearl necklace my grandmother left me around her neck. “What are you still doing standing here?” Ethan frowned, directing the movers to unceremoniously throw my suitcases out the door. “Chloe can’t stand the smell of your perfumes. I had everything of yours thrown out.” I abruptly stood up, my gaze fixed on the necklace around Chloe’s neck: “Take that off your neck.” That was the last memento my grandmother left me. Chloe instinctively covered her neck, tears instantly flowing: “Ethan, this was your calming gift to me last night, I…” “Scarlett! Don’t push your luck!” Ethan shielded her, his eyes filled with disgust. “It’s just a cheap necklace. I’ve been through so much with you, what’s wrong with giving Chloe a necklace to make her happy?” “That’s my grandmother’s heirloom!” I screamed, my eyes burning red. I rushed forward a few steps and grabbed Chloe’s collar. “Slap!” I didn’t hesitate, raising my hand and delivering a brutal slap across Chloe’s face! The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the living room. Chloe shrieked, covering her face and falling to the floor. That slap made my palm tingle. If talking reason failed, I would use the most direct method. But my hand hadn’t even dropped when Ethan’s eyes instantly turned red. He lunged forward, returning an even harder slap that snapped across my face! “Scarlett, how dare you hit her?!” I was already feverish, and the blow made me lose my balance, sending me crashing against the doorframe. The wound that had just clotted last night tore open again, blood trickling down my chin onto my sweater. I froze. In all our time together. This was the first time he had laid a hand on me. It felt like a knife had been plunged into my heart. I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood in my mouth, and my ears rang. Ethan looked at the blood on my face, his fingers stiff for a moment. He let go, as if he’d touched something foul, and disgustedly wiped his hands. Then he turned, cradling Chloe in his arms with a pained expression. “Get out. Don’t show your face to Chloe again until you learn how to act like a decent human being.” “Bang!” The security door slammed shut in front of me. Cold rain lashed mercilessly against my thin clothes. I was soaked, blood from my face mixing with rainwater as it streamed down. I coldly stared at the closed door, then pulled out my phone. I dialed the number of a secondhand salvage company. “Hello, Villa 3, smash and haul away all the valuable furniture, appliances, and all that junk high-end men’s clothing in the walk-in closet.” “Yes, anything I paid for, smash it all and take it. Don’t leave a single piece!” I hung up, then turned and walked into the rain.

Less than twenty minutes later, four trucks pulled up to the villa. Dozens of workers, armed with sledgehammers and crowbars, jumped out. The foreman ran up to me, pausing at the sight of my blood-streaked face: “Boss, is this the place?” I pointed at the door, my voice cold and flat: “Break it open.” “All the valuable furniture and appliances inside, and the men’s high-end clothing in the walk-in closet—anything I paid for, smash it all and drag it out, not a single piece left!” “Got it!” With a massive crash, the door was broken open by a sledgehammer. Chloe’s scream instantly echoed from inside the villa. I walked back into the house step by step, cold rainwater dripping from my clothes, forming puddles on the floor. In the living room, the workers had already started. A million-dollar imported leather sofa was ripped to shreds by sharp blades. The crystal chandelier crashed to the floor, sending shattered glass everywhere. Ethan clutched Chloe tightly, his eyes bloodshot as he roared at me: “Scarlett! Are you insane?! How dare you trespass!” “Trespass?” I looked at him coldly. “Ethan, I paid the down payment for this villa, and I chose every piece of furniture here.” “Things I bought with my own money, I’m disgusted by them, so I’m smashing them for the noise. Are you going to call the police on me?” Several workers had already rushed into the walk-in closet. They threw all of Ethan’s custom suits and rare sneakers into the muddy water and stomped on them. Ethan watched his meticulously maintained image being mercilessly trampled, trembling with rage. He lunged at me: “Scarlett, you’re just flaunting your dirty money!” “When we were at our lowest during the startup, I lived with you in a leaky basement and ate moldy bread!” “Are you going to be so ruthless over these material possessions?!” There it was again. That line, his golden ticket, the one that moved him to tears. “Ethan, how dare you even mention the basement?” Ethan flinched, stepping back. His face instantly went pale, his lips trembling, unable to utter a word. I ignored him, walking straight to Chloe, who was paralyzed with fear on the floor. Chloe instinctively recoiled. Her hands clamped tightly over the pearl necklace on her neck: “Scarlett… please don’t hit me… I’ll take it off, I’ll take off the wedding dress right away…” “Too late. Anything you’ve worn, I find disgusting.” I bent down, my eyes icy. “Give me back the necklace.” Chloe was crying uncontrollably, looking to Ethan for help. Ethan tried to step forward, but two workers with crowbars subtly blocked his way. “You won’t give it to me?” I sneered, suddenly reaching out and grabbing the pearl necklace, pulling hard! The fragile string snapped instantly. The pearls scattered across the floor like my seven years of devotion, wasted on a dog. This was the last memento my grandmother left me. Now, it was completely destroyed. My heart felt like it was being torn apart by bare hands. The pain made my breathing tremble. But I swallowed it, not letting a single tear fall. “Scarlett, you’re going too far!” Ethan looked at the utter chaos, finally losing his temper. “Smash it all.” I turned around, walking step by step into the curtain of rain. “Smash everything. Let’s make some noise for Mr. Ethan and Ms. Chloe.” Behind me, Chloe’s hysterical cries erupted. “Scarlett! Scarlett, wait!”

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