Author: Momo Chan

1 I was heading to administration to ask why every male colleague had received flowers from the CEO’s girlfriend except me, when I overheard breakroom talk. They said CEO Schmidt’s boyfriend was upset because I kept visiting her office. To placate him, she supposedly used my flower budget to buy a huge bouquet for an intern, Jay Cloud. Someone even called me an old man shamelessly chasing the CEO. I’m a tech lead—this was blatant targeting. I froze, recalling Jay Cloud’s enormous bouquet this morning, a chill in my heart. Since the company started, Olivia Schmidt had never sent me flowers. Not today, and she couldn’t even spare time for our anniversary dinner. Lately, even during our intimate moments, she’d cut things short, preoccupied with the company’s new tech challenges, fearing our competitor, the Hayes Group, would get ahead. I’d joined her company with my top-tier tech, turning down a lucrative offer from Hayes because I sympathized with her startup struggles. I became a workaholic, agreed to a secret marriage—all so she could focus without social distractions. But what happened? Faced with malicious gossip, she stayed silent and distant, yet showed obvious favoritism toward intern Jay Cloud. I looked at the hard drive in my hand, holding the latest tech updates, took a deep breath, and called the Hayes Group. “I agree to the technical equity investment. The partnership is settled!” … There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. Katherine Hayes, often called the “Ice Queen of Tech,” couldn’t hide the excitement in her voice. “Ethan, you won’t regret this. I promise, your decision will be the best one you’ve ever made! Tomorrow is the East Coast bid. With your tech, we’ve got this!” No sooner had I agreed than the phone was snatched from my hand. I turned to meet Olivia Schmidt’s icy gaze, with a group of gloating employees standing behind her. She hung up my call without even looking, her tone frigid. “It’s just a bouquet of flowers. As a technical lead, do you really need to cause a scene with HR over this? If word gets out, people will think Jay is giving you trouble. What kind of impression would that make?” A bitter smile played on my lips—I hadn’t even succeeded in reaching HR, and she was already this concerned for Jay Cloud. Yet, for the past year, colleagues had branded me as an older, deluded man trying to break up her relationship, spreading vile rumors, and she had acted as if she were deaf. Seeing the boss furious, the others naturally understood and joined in the verbal assault. “Mr. Borges is such an old man, he probably never received flowers before, that’s why he cares so much, right?” “Are home-wreckers all so shameless? CEO Schmidt is avoiding suspicion and doesn’t want to give you flowers, but you still keep clinging on!” “Jay and us, young and handsome, are the ones who deserve perks. What are you, an old, faded gold-digger, even thinking about?” Every word felt like a thousand arrows piercing my heart, yet Olivia Schmidt’s face remained utterly impassive—I instantly realized that perhaps they were merely speaking her mind, which was why she was so calm. I trembled with anger, my cold gaze fixed on the woman I had been married to for seven years. “I’m also a male employee of this company. Is there a problem with me fighting for the benefits I’m entitled to?” Seeing my eyes redden, a flicker of emotion finally crossed Olivia Schmidt’s face, and she sighed softly. “If you really want…” Jay Cloud suddenly appeared, holding that bouquet of flowers, his eyes red, and interrupted her. “Mr. Borges, it’s my fault. I’m just an intern; I don’t deserve this! If you like it, it’s yours. Please don’t use your supervisor position to pressure me. I’m really scared!” His close colleagues at the company also stepped forward, snidely complaining. “CEO Schmidt, as soon as Jay received the flowers this morning, Mr. Borges made him print hundreds of pages of garbled documents within an hour. Jay’s back was breaking standing by the printer, but the printout was clearly just useless paper that no one would read. Isn’t this obvious workplace bullying?” Olivia Schmidt saw the stack of half-printed documents on the table, and that flicker of emotion instantly vanished. She snatched a stack, glaring at the indecipherable content, tore it to shreds in anger, and showered me with the pieces. “And I thought about compensating you! Our Schmidt company has always prided itself on employee welfare. You, a cruel individual who bullies subordinates, are an absolute disgrace!” Behind the fluttering paper fragments, Jay Cloud and his allies wore triumphant smiles. But Olivia Schmidt didn’t know that the papers contained my latest technical report, which I had slaved over for five sleepless nights. I had asked the intern to print it this morning because I wanted to submit it to East Coast Group, the largest client in the industry, before their bid deadline, securing the project directly. She grabbed another stack of papers and slapped me hard across the face with them. “Apologize to Jay, now!” The sharp edges of the A4 paper left several red marks on my face, but the stinging pain was nothing compared to the desolation in my heart. I bent down to pick up the documents I had painstakingly worked on, my voice as cold as my heart. “He didn’t print the files within the hour as I requested this morning because he was showing off his flowers. He’s the one who should apologize!” Olivia Schmidt’s face grew even darker. She stepped forward and grabbed my collar. “Ethan Borges, when did you become so hypocritical and malicious? You’re clearly in the wrong, willing to throw away all your dignity just for a bit of jealousy? Kneel down and apologize to Jay, and I… I might still let you stay on the team!” That group of sycophants erupted. “You rotten mistress, using your authority to bully the rightful person, and you still have the nerve to demand an apology?!” “A pile of waste paper, wasting company resources and disrupting our work. What kind of selfish wretch deserves to be a lead?” “You usually know you’re cheap, not wanting salary or benefits, just throwing yourself at CEO Schmidt. But today, for a bouquet, you finally couldn’t keep up the act, could you?” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly—when Olivia and I got married, she was dirt poor, but knowing I liked flowers, she’d often pick wild ones for me. Those days were humble, but our hearts were rich. Then she decided to start her own business, pinching every penny, with no time to give me flowers. As an already renowned tech expert in the industry, I had no choice but to invest my money and efforts to support her. It wasn’t until last year, when the company started to gain traction, expanding its team and hiring many interns, aiming to capture the market. I watched her journey, knowing her struggles as an entrepreneur, so I joined Schmidt Inc. without a salary, giving all my benefits to new hires. Even when rumors about her and Jay Cloud reached my ears, even when I knew Jay, an intern, could expense anything in the company without receipts or limits, even when he couldn’t even manage basic printing after a year, but still received a sports car as a year-end bonus—Olivia’s explanation of “to empathize with subordinates and boost team cohesion” was enough for me. But today, this benefit, I always thought she remembered my preferences and wouldn’t leave me out. Yet, I realized that all my years of patient support only earned me disdain in everyone’s eyes. I pointed at the data on the file, my heart aching as I looked at Olivia Schmidt. “This is a technical report I poured my heart and soul into. If he had followed my time requirements this morning, this document alone would have secured the East Coast bid ahead of schedule. Now it’s all ruined. Shouldn’t he be the one leaving?” Seeing me point at Jay Cloud, he rolled his eyes, tears streaming down his face. “Mr. Borges, just because I have CEO Schmidt’s favor, you’re setting such a malicious trap to harm me? No wonder you gave me a deadline to print so many documents—it was to blame me for not developing the software CEO Schmidt needed, fearing failure in tomorrow’s bid! Are you trying to hurt me so badly just to cling to CEO Schmidt?” Others chimed in. “I heard CEO Schmidt has been unhappy with the tech department for a year for not breaking through this bottleneck. This old man is really cunning, using Jay as a scapegoat!” “So it didn’t matter if the printout was garbled; it was just a way to give Jay an impossible task and shift the blame!” “He’s so malicious! No wonder he wanted to be a mistress and climb the ladder quickly; turns out he knew he was incompetent!” Olivia Schmidt’s eyes were like daggers. She shoved me onto the pile of documents on the floor. “You really went to great lengths to scheme against Jay! You offered your services for tech development, and I haven’t heard anything from you in so long. Turns out all your efforts were focused on framing Jay! Apologize to Jay immediately, or don’t even think about staying with the company!” But she forgot that when the company was just starting and couldn’t afford employees, I often filled in for all positions, including printing hundreds of documents in an hour, which was always her basic requirement. But when it came to Jay Cloud, it became me deliberately making things difficult. I gave a desolate smile, got up, brushed the paper bits off myself, took off my company ID, threw it on the floor, and started packing my things. “No need for threats. I quit now!” I printed another document, signed it, and handed it to her. “Sign it, and I’ll send you the mailing address.” Seeing the words “Divorce Agreement,” Olivia Schmidt froze, then instinctively grabbed my arm as I was about to leave— The others thought I was giving her a resignation letter and clapped in delight. Only Jay Cloud, seeing her hold onto me, instantly frowned and quickly pulled Olivia Schmidt’s arm away. “CEO Schmidt, are you trying to drag Mr. Borges back to apologize to me? If he resigns as an apology, I might not be entirely against it…” Olivia Schmidt then regained her composure. Always mindful of her public image as CEO, she quickly nodded in agreement with him. “Exactly. How can I let this cruel man leave so easily?” She yanked me back, pinning me against the wall. “If I win the bid tomorrow, I’ll be a hero immortalized in the business world! How can you just walk out now?” The ferocity and unwillingness in her eyes made it hard for me to discern if she wanted me to stay for the bid, or for the love that had been worn down to a mere inconvenience over time. But I had long lost interest in guessing her thoughts, my heart as dead as ashes as I looked directly into her eyes. “Since you think I’m incompetent, and you resent me for hindering your love life, why stop me?” Olivia Schmidt’s face stiffened. She glanced at Jay Cloud behind her, trying to cover her tracks. “You’re dereliction of duty, bullying a colleague! Don’t drag me into it!” Then she leaned close to my ear, gritting her teeth. “Is it because I’ve been busy with work these past few months and less attentive in bed that you’re making such a big deal out of a bouquet of flowers, causing all this chaos?” I shook my head silently, pushing her away hard, but the contents of the cardboard box in my arms scattered across the floor. Jay Cloud immediately picked up the most noticeable item, an album, flipped it open, and sneered. “No wonder Mr. Borges was so eager to leave Schmidt Inc.! Turns out he realized CEO Schmidt was a lost cause, so he moved on!” The others glanced at it and joined in the mockery. “Today, seeing he didn’t even get flowers, he knew CEO Schmidt was a dead end, so he started looking for his next target. How cheap! Looks like he didn’t waste any time hopping into cars to hook up with new prospects. So shameless!” But as Olivia Schmidt saw what was inside, her face turned ghastly pale— The album contained no photos, only tickets. They were from college, during the National Computer Competition, when she, as their school’s logistics manager, fell in love with me at first sight and passionately confessed. But at that time, I was already a renowned prodigy, unmatched in software technology, a world apart from her, a queen of failing grades who only cared about playing both sides. I gently rejected her, but after the competition, she came back again and again, enduring hours on trains, fighting for my attention. When we got married, she gave me all the train tickets made into an album, embracing me with tears streaming down her face. “It took me thousands of miles to win you over. How could I not cherish you?” But now, this album of tickets had become the most ridiculous irony. Seeing my silence, the employees assumed they had guessed my illicit affair correctly, and immediately pulled out their phones, pointing them at my face and starting a live stream. “I’ve never seen such a shameless home-wrecker. Fail with one, immediately go ruin the next. Everyone, beware!” Instantly, my bruised and swollen face, paired with the title “Most Afraid of an Older, Yet Driven Mistress,” spread across the entire internet. Netizens happily feasted on the gossip, slander flying freely. “So old and still wanting to be a mistress, it’s just about the easy money, isn’t it?” “Who cares if he’s incompetent professionally, he’ll just make up for it in bed!” Some also questioned, “This man looks familiar, he seems to have won many tech awards before. He should be able to make good money. Why would he need to be a mistress?” Infuriated, I grabbed Olivia Schmidt’s collar. “You know best whether I’m a mistress or not. Tell everyone…” A flicker of shame finally crossed Olivia Schmidt’s face. Just as she was about to speak, my phone chimed with a notification. Jay Cloud, seeing it, immediately became excited as if he’d discovered a new continent. He snatched my phone, showing it off like a treasure. It was a message Katherine Hayes had just sent— “I’ll pick you up at your place tomorrow morning, and bring you breakfast.” She had added me on an anonymous account, so no one recognized her, and they immediately began to speculate maliciously. “Turns out he’s the most diligent old home-wrecker; they’ve already scheduled a meeting. No wonder he was in such a hurry to resign!” Even the netizens who had been defending me earlier were now furious. “So he really is a shameless, freeloading leech, how disgusting!” Just as I was about to explain, Olivia Schmidt, her eyes bloodshot, slapped me to the ground. “Ethan Borges, and I was just about to speak up for you! Turns out you really are that cheap! No wonder you were so determined to leave me; you were really going to climb into another woman’s bed! Our company doesn’t want a slut like you!” The others surrounded me, their faces grim. “Your private life is a mess, you bully colleagues, and now the whole internet despises you, disgracing the company! Even if you leave today, you have to bow down and apologize to us, or you won’t step foot out that door!” Before I could react, they kicked me in the back of the knee, sending me crashing to the ground. Someone grabbed my hair, slamming my head against the floor, instantly leaving me with a bleeding scalp. Jay Cloud, triumphant, pinched my chin, whispering in my ear, “You trash, daring to fight me for a woman! You old man deserves a lesson!” Seeing my face covered in blood, Olivia Schmidt finally regained her composure. She grabbed me and threw me into the elevator, threatening me in a furious whisper. “Get home and wait for me immediately! If you dare to bring up divorce again, just wait until I get back and deal with you!” But as the elevator doors closed, Jay Cloud’s whining voice drifted from outside. “CEO Schmidt, you promised to spend quality time with me tonight. Don’t go back on your word!” Olivia Schmidt’s tone immediately softened. “Of course. When have I ever not kept my word when you asked?” Remembering all the important dates she had missed over the past year, I smiled bitterly, wiping the blood from the corner of my mouth. That night, she didn’t come home, and neither did I. The next morning, at the East Coast bid site, Olivia Schmidt, with a hickey on her neck, looked somewhat satisfied to see me appear with a bandaged wound. “I knew it. You must have stayed up all night working on the bidding proposal to win my heart back.” She leaned closer, sighing softly. “Alright, I didn’t go home last night to appease Jay for you. Seeing your good performance today, I’ll go back with you tonight. Consider it a company perk. Satisfied?” Jay Cloud, however, looked indignant when he saw me. “So you still can’t let go of CEO Schmidt. At your age, can’t you have some dignity?” The media, knowing I had been trending yesterday, immediately surrounded me with challenging questions. “You’re being called a slut by the entire industry, and you still have the nerve to show up? Have you no pride left for money?” “Did your new sugar mama dump you after watching the live stream and seeing how ‘dirty’ you are, so now you’re looking for a new woman?” “Or are you here to try and win CEO Schmidt back? Is being a simp really that much fun?” I, however, walked straight through their microphones and handed the bid proposal to the client. “The latest technology you asked for is all here. You don’t need to look at anyone else’s.” The East Coast representative was startled. After flipping through a few pages, he excitedly shook my hand. “We knew it! Wherever Mr. Borges is, that company has divine assistance!” Olivia Schmidt, seeing this, immediately bowed triumphantly to the media, boasting about her experience under the flashing lights. “Taming a man is as simple as training a dog; that’s how you unleash his full potential…” She then provocatively raised her chin at Katherine Hayes, her biggest rival. “Next time we’re around, don’t bother showing up! Today, you’ll learn who the king of this industry is!” Katherine Hayes simply smiled faintly and pointed to the stage. “How about you listen again?” The next second, the East Coast representative solemnly announced the result, leaving Olivia Schmidt stunned— “The winning bidder for this project is—of course, Hayes Group, with a tech powerhouse like Mr. Borges!”

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1 The earthquake hit when I was nineteen, shattering the elaborate self-deception I’d built over the years. I woke to a violent tremor, still half-asleep. Through the haze, I saw Mom move with a speed I’d never witnessed before. She grabbed my younger sister, Rose, and bolted downstairs. She was a blur, nothing like her usual slow, absent-minded self. I just stood there, frozen, watching her disappear down the stairs. In that moment, a belief I’d clung to for so long crumbled to dust. Mom wasn’t slow to react. Her lightning-fast reflexes simply weren’t for me. When I was a little kid and a stray dog knocked me down, tearing at my arm, she stood nearby, her eyes blank. Only when a neighbor rushed over and pulled me to safety did she snap out of it, gasping, “Selene! What happened? Why didn’t you dodge it?” Later, when I gained weight and became a target for bullies, they’d corner me right outside our front door, beating me up. She’d watch the whole thing from the third-story window, silent. When I finally dragged myself home, bruised and battered, she’d rush over, her face a picture of innocent concern, asking, “Were they hitting you just now? Why didn’t you call me for help?” I used to tell myself she just had some kind of physical condition, that she couldn’t react quickly. But now I understood. Her “slowness” was reserved exclusively for me. In that instant, I just couldn’t take it anymore. … The ground shook violently. A loud crash from behind me—the wardrobe toppled—snapped me back to reality. I scrambled downstairs, fleeing for my life. Downstairs, Mom was panting, still clutching Rose, her eyes scanning my sister for injuries. When she saw me, she let out a surprised yelp. “Oh! Selene, you’re home too? Mom completely forgot. I thought you were still at college!” My face felt pale. A jagged nail had scraped my back as I ran out, leaving a stinging cut. Her words twisted in my gut. “Mom, I’ve been home for two days. Didn’t you know?” She didn’t bat an eye, pouting as if it were the most natural thing. “Didn’t know, honey. You know Mom sometimes takes a while to react. Selene, are you blaming me?” I swallowed, my throat dry. Just then, Dad, rushing home from work, saw the whole exchange. He walked straight up to me, slapped my shoulder hard without a word, his expression icy. “Selene Miller, did you waste all your education? Or did college make you think you can talk back to your mother like that?” His slap landed directly on my fresh wound. I gasped, a muffled cry escaping my lips. I looked up at his stern face. It had always been like this. My slow-to-react mother, coddled by my doting father, only grew more innocent and helpless over time. That time I was attacked by the dog. I’d once asked Mom why she hadn’t protected me. Before she could answer, Dad slammed his chopsticks on the table, his face dark. “Selene Miller, I’m only saying this once. Your mother is naturally slower to react than others.” “Even if you’d been mauled to death today, you’d have no right to blame her!” I flinched, my nose stinging, but I dared not cry. I just kept my head down, burying my face in my porridge, stirring it with my chopsticks. After that, I understood Mom’s “condition” and stopped blaming her. But this time… “Sis, don’t be so dramatic. You know Mom’s situation. Are you really going to pressure her?” Rose emerged from Mom’s embrace. As the clear beneficiary of the situation, her face held only a haughty contempt for me. Mom nodded in agreement, her gaze on Rose even more tender. I bit back the pain, took a deep breath. “Mom, you said you can’t react quickly. So why were you so fast when you saved Rose?” She frowned, snapping back, “I’m slow, not an idiot. Rose was right there; what, was I supposed to just leave her?” Her words made my wound ache even more. “But I was home too. Why didn’t you call me? Why did you forget me?” Mom choked, clearly caught off guard by my uncharacteristic assertiveness. She stammered, unable to find an answer. I managed a weak smile. “How many times, since I was born, has this happened?” “Mom, are you truly slow to react, or do you just not care if I live or die?” The more I spoke, the more the unfairness swelled, my voice rising, choked with emotion. Neighbors had started to gather around. “Selene, why is she acting out today? We all know about your mom’s condition; why bother with this?” “I think it’s because Rose is so smart and pretty. She’s just jealous and making a scene.” Everyone chimed in, dissecting me from head to toe. My fists clenched, my face growing paler. Mom stood by, watching silently, not defending me, but rather nodding along with their criticism. Dad gave me a shove. “That’s enough. Apologize to your mother, and cut out the attitude. It’s not a good look!” I pressed my lips together. This time, I didn’t back down as usual. Instead, I jutted out my chin and said, “I did nothing wrong, and I won’t apologize!” Dad’s face darkened instantly. His short temper flared, and he slapped me across the face with all his might. Already in pain and weakened, my vision swam. To the shock of the onlookers, I collapsed with a thud, fainting at Mom’s feet. 2 I woke up two days later. The doctor said I’d fainted due to tetanus, an infection from the wound. I glanced around the empty bedside and asked, “Has anyone come to see me?” “Yes, your father just left. He went to pay the bill.” I was silent for a moment. “No one else?” He nodded, gave me some instructions, and left. I let out a self-deprecating laugh, still foolishly hoping Mom would show up. I opened my phone. A new update on Mom’s social media: photos of her and Rose at a resort, all smiles. Just then, hurried footsteps sounded outside. I looked up as the door burst open. It was Mom, flustered and anxious. To my surprise, she rushed to my bedside. “Oh my goodness, Selene, you actually fainted? That day, I thought you just suddenly fell asleep!” “Your back is hurt? Was it because of the earthquake?” “It’s all Mom’s fault for reacting so slowly, otherwise I would have been here to take care of you right away.” I watched her quietly, then laughed, a hollow, absurd sound. I just couldn’t believe anyone could be that slow to react! Especially if I hadn’t seen her social media updates, showing her and Rose on vacation for the past two days, I might have actually believed her concern. But now, it seemed she’d had her fun and was only deigning to visit me, conveniently manufacturing an excuse for her absence. “Mom, where have you been?” Rose, beside her, beamed with a triumphant look. “Where else? Mom took me to…” Before she could finish, Mom pulled her arm and flashed me a forced smile. “Nowhere, just at home.” I scoffed, opened the social media post, and tossed my phone onto the bed. “If you’re going on vacation, you could at least block me.” She froze, then flushed, stammering for an explanation. Finally, like Dad, she dropped the act, her patience completely gone. “So what if I took your sister on a trip? Do I need your permission to go somewhere?” “Besides, I wasn’t intentionally not visiting you! I told you, I didn’t realize you fainted!” “Selene Miller, why are you so pushy, so unreasonable!” Her voice was loud, jarring. Her aggressive deflection chilled me to the bone. “Forget it,” I said with a scoff, lifting my head coolly. “Just leave. You don’t need to pretend to care.” Mom’s face stiffened, and the room’s atmosphere plummeted to freezing. Just then, Dad and my aunt, Aunt Carol, walked in. Aunt Carol frowned, stepping forward to scold me. “Selene, you should be respectful when speaking to your elders.” Seeing she had backup, Mom immediately burst into tears, hiding behind them. I felt a weariness deep in my bones. “Aunt Carol, do you know what happened? Dad probably didn’t tell you, so I will.” Dad frowned, too late to stop me. My aunt, hearing the story, turned a disapproving gaze on Mom. “Sister-in-law, that’s a bit unfair, isn’t it?” Mom choked again, unable to explain, her anger flaring. “I am slow to react! I could only save one, and I just didn’t remember Selene was home! Can you blame me for that?” She then rounded on me, scolding, “Selene Miller, I came to see you out of kindness, and instead of appreciating your mother’s efforts, you team up with everyone else to complain about me!” “I didn’t do it on purpose!” “I think you’ve just held a grudge against me all these years!” I took a deep breath, shaking my head. There was no getting through to her. “Think what you want. After I’m discharged, I’m moving out, so I won’t be an eyesore.” But at that, she immediately exploded. “What do you mean? You’re moving out? Are you trying to make the neighbors gossip about me, say I’m a cruel mother?” I paused, realizing I just wanted to leave. Then I cast her a cold glance. “Mom, how come your reaction time isn’t ‘slow’ this time? You’re thinking faster than I am.” Aunt Carol looked at Mom suspiciously, and Mom’s face paled. 3 She bristled, glaring at me. Dad, who had been silent, finally lost his temper. He kicked my hospital bed. Bang! The jarring impact sent a jolt through me, almost knocking me off the mattress. “Selene Miller! What kind of attitude is that?!” I fell silent. Mom seized the opportunity, squeezing out a couple of tears. My sister, Rose, immediately went to protect Mom, adding fuel to the fire. “Sis, did the earthquake hit your head? What’s wrong with you, attacking Mom like this?” “I can’t stand it. Don’t you know that Mom is like this because of you?!” I frowned, confused. Mom’s expression grew even more aggrieved. Rose, her face flushed, blurted out everything. “Mom almost bled out giving birth to you, and her brain was damaged, which is why she reacts so slowly!” “She pitied you, afraid you’d blame yourself, so she never said anything.” “And you! Just because she didn’t grab you, you won’t stop nagging?” My face went blank. “What?” Aunt Carol looked surprised, then immediately shifted sides, becoming Mom’s ally. “Selene, that’s not right of you.” Dad’s expression was equally grim. He held Mom tightly, who remained tearfully silent. I pressed my pale lips together, still unable to speak. Mom sniffled, then magnanimously reassured me. “It’s okay. Mom doesn’t blame you. You’re upset. Mom will come see you in a few days.” With that, they all left one by one. I looked up just in time to see Rose and Mom exchange a knowing, enigmatic smile. I didn’t dwell on it, lost in the words I’d just heard, my thoughts tangled. The next day, after being discharged, I tossed and turned all night. My mind felt restless, so I got out of bed and went to the kitchen, wanting a glass of ice water to cool down. As I stepped out, I heard hushed whispers from the balcony. “Good thing I made you come up with an excuse earlier, otherwise your sister would have been all over me again.” “That Selene girl, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. Ever since that earthquake, she’s become so petty.” My steps faltered. The ice water in my hand sloshed out. Rose, curious, asked, “So, Mom, is your reaction time really slower than most people?” Mom paused, cleared her throat. “Of course. But no matter how slow, if my precious Rosebud is in danger, I can react instantly.” Rose immediately threw herself into Mom’s arms, laughing and cuddling. My eyes froze. I quietly retreated to my room. Sitting on the bed, I let out a sharp, cold laugh. My entire day of guilt felt like a cruel joke. Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the front door, followed by familiar curses. “Open up! Rachel, I’m your brother, are you really going to let me die?!” Rachel was Mom’s name, and the frantic man outside was my uncle, a gambling addict deep in debt. I jumped, reflexively shrinking into a ball in the corner. When I was little, my gambling uncle, owing a massive debt, came up with the idea of selling a child. He set his sights on me. He arranged for someone to easily take me from Mom, using a flimsy excuse. I was terrified, sensing something was wrong, and cried desperately. My cries alerted a passing police patrol, who rescued me, but I already had several injuries. Mom arrived at the police station, looked at me, and after a long moment, exaggeratedly covered her mouth. “Oh my goodness, Selene, he was trying to sell you!” “It’s all Mom’s fault. I only just realized I shouldn’t have let a stranger take you.” But later, when Rose was born, she never allowed my uncle or anyone else to even get close to Rose… Lost in thought, the knocking stopped. I sat by the bed all night. When the sky began to lighten, I finally stood, dragging my numb body to pack my bags. A little while later, I opened the door, bag in hand. That’s when I saw the living room filled with neighbors and relatives. 4 Dad frowned. “What’s gotten into you now? It’s your mother’s birthday today, hurry up and help with the cooking!” Mom saw my bags and also froze, then started complaining. “Selene? Are you still throwing a tantrum? Everything I do is because of you. You’re choosing this exact moment to leave, just to make the neighbors say I’m a heartless woman?” Rose, eating her favorite shrimp dumplings, glanced at me without a word. My fingers clenched. I was allergic to seafood and hated shrimp dumplings, yet Rose loved them, and Mom made them every day. The favoritism had always been woven into the fabric of our daily lives. “Selene, you’re such a hothead,” Old Mrs. Jones from next door pouted. “We all know the ins and outs of what happened. You’re really being unreasonable.” “Yeah, nineteen and still so childish. I guess she went to college for nothing.” Mom didn’t say a single word in my defense. She knew the truth, yet she let them scold me. Facing their accusations, I scoffed. “You’re all just here for the drama! This is my family’s business, what do any of you really know?” Old Mrs. Jones immediately bristled. “Huh! What do you mean we don’t know? We all know about your mom’s condition, why are you blaming her?” “Sure, she almost let you get kidnapped, and you were bitten by a dog, but your mom just couldn’t react in time. She was upset and hurt too.” “You’re nineteen, it’s time to grow up. Rose is even better than you.” Rose, hearing this, looked smug, adding fuel to the fire. “Exactly, sis. You’re too petty. I can’t believe you’re still like this, even after knowing the truth about Mom’s condition.” “I feel bad for Mom.” Mom looked at me, her expression disappointed. “Selene, I’ve never deprived you of food or clothes all these years. I took care of you with all my heart, and I can’t believe that just because I didn’t react in time to pull you during an earthquake, you hate me so much.” I clenched my fists, looking at them standing opposite me, while I stood alone and helpless. My gaze grew darker. “Think what you want. From today on, I will never return to this house.” “It’ll free up space for your family of three.” Dad’s face turned grim, and Mom sighed. “Fine. If you insist on leaving, then you’ll need to sign an agreement.” I frowned. “What agreement?” She pulled something from behind her, as if she’d prepared it in advance. “An agreement stating you are voluntarily disowning us.” “To prevent people from talking behind my back later.” My fingertips gripping the paper turned white. I suddenly laughed, my eyes filled with mockery. “Mom, at a time like this, your reaction is surprisingly fast.” Her face stiffened at my sarcasm. Old Mrs. Jones, who already disliked me, began inciting the others to verbally attack me. “What a heartless girl. Rachel, I told you it wasn’t worth it, getting your nerves messed up for her sake!” Aunt Carol, who had just walked in, also looked at me with displeasure. “Selene, apologize to your mother right now. We’ll let this go.” She turned stern. “I hear you’re applying for a national scholarship, right? If you’re so unfilial, I don’t think you deserve that award.” Aunt Carol taught at my university. If she wanted to, she could really sabotage the national scholarship I had worked so hard to earn. Faced with their relentless pressure, I lowered my eyes, then let out a cold laugh. After a silent pause, I tossed a yellowed report onto the table in front of everyone. In the next second, I saw Mom’s face drastically change.

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1 At the wedding, as the officiant called out, “You may now kiss the bride,” Professor Davies’s student suddenly stood up, interrupting the ceremony. She announced that Selene, his research assistant, was getting married tomorrow, a decision made because Professor Davies had broken her heart. Professor Davies’s eyes changed instantly. He dropped the wedding ring and sprinted down the aisle. I snatched the microphone, yelling after his retreating figure, “If you walk out today, we are done for good.” He faltered, just for a second, but then got in his car and drove off without a backward glance. I stood on the stage and smiled. Professor Davies, there’s no such thing as having your cake and eating it too. You chose your love; don’t blame me for taking your career. I should have realized it much earlier. That day, as we lay entwined, at the peak of intimacy, his throat rumbled as he whispered “Selene.” In that moment, I knew he had feelings for his young research assistant. Afterwards, still breathless, I gave him one last chance, asking if he wanted to get married the next day. He rejected it without a second thought, saying he had to accompany Selene abroad for a closed-door research project. I told him: either stay, or the engagement is off. There was no third option. Allergic to alcohol, he drank all night. He woke up the next day, eyes bloodshot, saying he wouldn’t go. But from then on, he started secretly drinking, ending up in the ER for stomach pumping again and again. Now, he had finally chosen her. … One minute after Professor Davies left, the murmurs from the audience erupted into a chorus of whispers and pointed fingers. “Professor Davies just ditched his bride and eloped with his mistress. Isn’t that a public slap in the face for the Sterling family?” “I can’t believe even a powerful socialite like Ms. Scarlett Sterling could be jilted!” “Guess even someone as level-headed as Professor Davies couldn’t handle her high-maintenance attitude!” The gossip filled my ears. Professor and Mrs. Davies’s faces were paler than mine. “Scarlett, what happened today is completely Frank’s fault. Don’t worry, tonight we’ll tie him up and bring him back to consummate the marriage!” “Mr. Davies, aren’t you shameless?” My mom scoffed, stepping forward to shield me. “Today, Frank didn’t just disrespect my daughter; he openly defied the entire Sterling family!” My dad and brother stood, their expressions icy, radiating an overwhelming pressure. Mrs. Davies, pale, pleaded with me. “Scarlett, Frank was just seduced by that vixen! You know he’s always been upright; he’d never act like this before!” “Before?” I scoffed, savoring the word. Professor Davies was a renowned university professor, usually quiet and somewhat awkward. He wouldn’t even send a cash gift on holidays, let alone celebrate various festivals. Whenever I brought it up, he’d brush me off impatiently: “Scarlett, those holidays are a waste of time and energy. I don’t have the patience for that.” So, I made excuses for him again and again in front of my parents and friends. But on my birthday, when he forgot again, his seemingly clueless student, Selene, posted on social media. [So grateful to my beloved mentor for the 99th gift!] The picture showed a bed laden with various designer bags, cosmetics, and jewelry—Hermès, Chanel, the works. Total value in the millions. That night, Professor Davies, to make amends, initiated intimacy. But he didn’t know that the name he cried out in passion exposed his true beloved. Afterward, he seized the opportunity to suggest going abroad with Selene for a three-year research project. That day, I finally saw clearly: Professor Davies wasn’t incapable of love; he simply wasn’t willing to love me. I slapped away Mrs. Davies’s clutching hand. My voice was calm. “From today on, my engagement to Professor Davies is off.” If he wouldn’t love, then no one would. “Off?!” Mr. Davies bellowed, then, remembering something, forced a smile. “Scarlett, then you’ll still agree to help me with the funding issues for my company, won’t you?” Before I could speak, my brother sneered. “Mr. Davies, you’ve got some nerve. The engagement’s off, so of course, all other agreements are null and void!” Mr. and Mrs. Davies’s faces turned ashen. Only our two families knew that Professor Davies’s company was facing a severe funding crisis. This “marriage” was more of a strategic merger for him to save his family’s business. Too bad he blew it. As I turned to leave, Mr. Davies, not giving up, rushed in front of me, his face contorted. “Scarlett, don’t worry, I’ll give you an explanation tonight!” I didn’t think much of it. Back home, I made a bonfire of all the academic papers and gifts Professor Davies had ever given me. I used to think he was just unromantic, cherishing his perfunctory academic papers as if they were treasures. After the fire died down, a message popped up on my phone. Selene had posted on social media again, bragging profusely. [Finally got a taste of my crush’s meat!] The accompanying picture showed red teeth marks on a man’s chest, leaving nothing to the imagination. I smiled, taking a screenshot. The next second, Professor Davies’s call came in. “Scarlett, running out on the wedding today was wrong of me, but Selene is my student. I can’t just ignore her if she does something foolish.” I laughed. “Foolish? What’s her marriage got to do with you, Professor Davies? You publicly humiliated me today; you should have expected the consequences.” My words choked Professor Davies. An impatient voice came through the phone. “Are you done with your tantrum? I’ve already told you we’re completely innocent. If your mind is dirty, fine, but to maliciously frame and spread rumors? Scarlett, how did you become like this?” “Alright, my dad has already lectured me. Go handle the investment matter quickly. I’ll be back once I’ve had a talk with Selene.” Listening to his feigned righteousness, I found it laughable. He was the one who claimed to be reserved, asking for my understanding, then turned around and joked with his female student. He was the one who used work as an excuse to ignore my birthday, yet painstakingly prepared exquisite gifts for his student. He was the one who, for the happiness of someone else, demanded I be humiliated at my own wedding. I had given him countless chances to choose. But he chose to publicly abandon me at the altar, shaming me. I had loved him, but no more. I almost blocked and deleted his number, but the call hadn’t ended. Selene’s provocative voice came through. “Professor, who has a better figure, me or your fiancée?” “…You.” I raised an eyebrow, quietly starting a recording. Then I contacted the private investigator staked out at Professor Davies’s villa. “Tonight, record their every position, every move, from start to finish.” Professor Davies, you can come back, but you’ll find no one at your side. Indeed, at 5 AM, Professor Davies was forced by his father to return to my house. The moment he walked in, he dumped several large boxes of cosmetics and gift sets at my feet. “Scarlett Sterling! How long are you going to push my dad? Just because of a few boxes of cosmetics, you’re going to take it out on the company? Using your position for personal vendettas—you weren’t like this before!” “You’re not getting any younger. What’s wrong with using more?” His words stung, deliberately twisting a knife into me. I scoffed, stepping forward and tearing open his shirt, revealing the teeth marks underneath. Professor Davies froze. “Selene’s cat bit me…” I sneered, remembering how Professor Davies had deliberately hidden his identity as the eldest son of the Davies family when he pursued me. I was moved by his seemingly naive approach to courtship. Later, when he claimed to be aloof, pouring his heart into research and disdaining money, it was I who funded him from behind the scenes. I even brought in friends from my circle to invest and support him. With a few dismissive words, he had painted me as nothing but a jealous, petty woman. His phone rang. He answered, then hastily left. Before he did, he warned me. “Scarlett Sterling, if you still want me to marry you, behave yourself, don’t cause trouble. Hurry up and deal with the company’s issues. I don’t have time for your drama.” Three minutes later, Selene posted on social media again. [Tamed my crush like a dog, he comes running whenever I call.] My eyes flickered. I turned and sent a message to the exclusive group chat for heirs and heiresses of high-society families in the capital. “All funding for Professor Davies’s lab, halt it immediately.” Replies flooded in instantly: “Scarlett, copy that.” He wants to help Selene reach new heights? I’ll make sure he does. But without basic funding, how long could they really last? What I didn’t expect was the commotion outside the company the next afternoon. My assistant ran in, drenched in sweat. “Ms. Sterling, it’s bad! Professor Davies brought several students and lab personnel to the company, demanding an explanation!” I narrowed my eyes. Through the transparent skylight, I clearly saw a dozen people holding banners that read: [Capitalist Scarlett Sterling, stop hijacking scientific research!] [Capitalists out of the investment world!] … I suppressed the thumping in my chest and gave the security guards downstairs the order to let them in. Ten seconds later, a dozen people stormed into my office. The moment Selene saw me, she dropped to her knees, crying hysterically and slapping herself, wailing. “Ms. Sterling, I know you’ve always disliked me. You can have anyone hit me or curse me, even disfigure me, but you can’t instigate others to get jealous and withdraw funding!” “If you’re unhappy, just slap me yourself!” The sound of slapping echoed through the room. Professor Davies suddenly rushed from behind, tenderly pulling the woman to her feet. “Selene, stand tall! This has nothing to do with you!” Then he glared at me, his voice chilling. “Scarlett Sterling, your withdrawal of funding is a matter of national importance, not a toy for you capitalists!” I remained silent, coolly observing the unfolding drama. After Professor Davies spoke, the students and researchers behind him, fueled by his words, were agitated. Some grabbed their phones, live-streaming directly into my face, yelling indignantly. “Folks, live broadcast of a capitalist hindering scientific progress! Bullying students!” Others, carrying red paint, ambushed me from behind, deliberately splashing me. I was drenched, the sticky paint spreading over my limbs. Selene, not giving up, knelt before me again. She tore off the bandage on her face for the camera. The horrifying scar was revealed for a moment, making everyone gasp. I looked down at her with disdain. “Ms. Sterling, please let us go! I know everything started because of me. Whatever you say, I’m willing to do!” Then, she crawled closer to me on her knees and whispered, “Scarlett Sterling, so what if your parents are the richest people in the capital? Professor Davies despises elites like you the most!” “He’ll only be mine. You can’t take him away.” The next second, she dramatically pulled out a hidden knife and stabbed herself in the abdomen. Warm blood splattered across my face. Selene’s eyes widened in terror, her trembling finger pointing at me. Everyone was startled by the sudden turn of events, and they all pointed at me, yelling. “Murder! The capitalist is a murderer!” Professor Davies’s face was as black as thunder. He shoved me aside with a fierce push, picking up Selene and roaring, “Call 911!” I stared coldly at the woman’s triumphant smirk, my hands unconsciously clenching. After Selene was taken away by the ambulance, Professor Davies approached me, his face dark. “Are you satisfied now that you’ve killed her?” The crowd stirred again, a new wave of angry accusations aimed at me, followed by furious smashing of objects. As the situation spiraled out of control, I curled my lips into an amused smile. “You’re saying I deliberately murdered her? How about we check the security footage and confront each other publicly? If I really killed Selene, I’m willing to go to jail.” At my words, the angry shouts from the crowd slowly subsided. In the live stream, the initial skepticism from viewers had begun. [No way, you guys are being swayed by public opinion. I don’t think this woman would be stupid enough to kill someone, right?] [Can’t say for sure, what if?] [I also think this woman wouldn’t be that dumb. On the contrary, that woman just now seemed a bit unstable.] Professor Davies stared intently at me, his brows deeply furrowed. “Scarlett Sterling, you’re the CEO of Sterling Corp. It’s possible you deliberately tampered with the surveillance footage.” “Selene is my student. If you want to harm her, you’ll have to go through me first.” With that, he didn’t give up. He pulled out his phone, flipped the camera, and with bloodshot eyes, accused me. “Scarlett Sterling is my fiancée. During this time, she’s certainly, out of childish jealousy, caused harm to many people. As her fiancée, I apologize, but I won’t play favorites. I clarify here that everything she did to my student, Selene, is true.” “As for her disruption of research funding and attempted murder, I will not defend her in court.” Having said that, Professor Davies decisively ended the live stream and left with his group. Someone wanted to turn back and insult me, but he was forcefully led away. I stood silently. My assistant nervously swallowed. “Ms. Sterling, less than a minute after the live stream ended, Sterling Corp’s stock plummeted ten points.” I suppressed the turmoil in my heart. “Contact the PR department. Prepare a swift clarification.” However, my clarification couldn’t catch up with the speed of Professor Davies and Selene’s slander. Tabloids relentlessly edited videos, maliciously portraying me as a murderer and a fund-withdrawer. My social media accounts were besieged by trolls and haters. Keyboard warriors even sent me razor blades by mail. On the street, people called me an “academic vampire.” All the projects Sterling Corp had previously collaborated on, even contracts that had already passed, were either withdrawn or had their compensation demands inflated. As public opinion spiraled, my brother called. “Scarlett, you’ve gone too far this time. Professor Davies and his family are bribing major platforms’ online trolls and influential lawyers across the city to deny you legal recourse.” “They’re claiming you maliciously destroyed a major national project, and even some high-ranking officials are asking questions. Those old board members want you to apologize to the Davies family, agree to the marriage, and fix their funding issues.” “You…” I took a deep breath, hung up the phone, and unblocked a number I’d previously blacklisted. “Let’s meet.” Half an hour later, Professor Davies brought me to Selene’s hospital room. “Apologize.” I lowered my gaze. “I’m sorry.” The man’s expression softened considerably. He flicked the ash from his cigarette and raised an eyebrow. “Scarlett Sterling, so you can be pushed to the brink too, huh?” “But back then, Selene was just like you are now, even more miserable.” I lifted my eyelids. “What do I need to do for you to let me go?” Professor Davies crossed his legs, leaning casually back on the leather sofa, and asked Selene indifferently, “Selene, what do you want?” Selene feigned innocence, biting her index finger. “I… I just hope to clear the air with Ms. Sterling.” Professor Davies, however, ruffled her hair with a helpless look. “I know you’re timid, so your professor will help you.” “Scarlett Sterling, restore the Davies family’s funding, tell your rich friends to cancel the withdrawal of research investments, and since Selene’s face was disfigured by you, arrange for her skin graft.” “Apologize to Selene on all platforms. After you’ve done all that, I might consider getting married.” I scoffed, a laugh devoid of humor, and stared at him intently before turning to leave. That “I’m sorry” was an apology to my past self for being so blind. But he had a lot of nerve. A truly outrageous demand. If I gave it to him, did he even deserve it? Stepping out of the hospital room, I immediately contacted the private investigator to retrieve the recorded videos and photos, and compiled the evidence of his lab’s illegal use of materials that my black card account had uncovered earlier. Since he loved it so much, all this evidence would be enough to keep them busy for a lifetime. Having finished up, I walked out of the hospital. The moment I stepped out, a sharp pain shot through the back of my head. My vision went black, and I tumbled backward. When I opened my eyes again, blinding surgical lights shone directly on my face. My body trembled. My hands and feet were tightly bound with iron chains. Professor Davies walked in, his expression cold. “Scarlett Sterling, do you think a hospital is a place you can just come and go as you please? You’ve had enough time; have you thought it over?” My heart suddenly clenched, a vein throbbing in my forehead. “Professor Davies, if you dare lay a hand on me, you’ll regret it for the rest of your life!” The man, holding Selene’s hand, approached me. “Selene’s face—if it weren’t for your meddling and cancellation of funding, how would we have used inferior materials? She wouldn’t have been disfigured!” “Do you think an apology will make everything alright?” I gritted my teeth, my blood boiling. “She injured her own face!” But Professor Davies chose to ignore my explanation, coldly instructing the doctor beside him. “Begin. Take the softest layer from her face. I’m worried Selene might reject it.” The sharp needle pierced my skin. My pupils constricted, my body trembling uncontrollably from pain and resentment. My screams grew fainter and fainter. Professor Davies then entered, his gaze filled with a feigned guilt as it fell upon my bandaged face. “Scarlett, I will marry you.” I gathered all my strength and slapped him. He turned his head, a slight smirk playing on his lips. The next moment, I was violently dragged and shoved into a car. When I emerged, a crowd of reporters, armed with cameras and microphones, swarmed my face. Professor Davies forcefully pressed me onto a seat at a press conference. He spoke in a soft, coaxing tone. “Scarlett, clarify everything, pave the way for Selene’s future, and it will all be over.” My fists beneath the table trembled. I listened to the reporters below, their eyes glinting, firing off one sharp, damning question after another. A faint smile played on my lips. Professor Davies, do you think you have me cornered? I had been prepared for this…

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I finally understood why Justin Rauch had brought Linda, his research assistant with a heart condition, to live with us. When Cole Stone, soaked to the bone, with one eye shadowed, stood at our doorstep, I truly felt the powerful pull of a “first love.” I didn’t hesitate to let him stay in the mansion, my heart filled with pity. Years apart, he had become sickly and melancholic. The slightest touch would send shivers through him. I poured all my energy into him, gently coaxing and caring for him. I even lost the strength to argue with Linda or yell hysterically at Justin. Justin, however, completely broke down. His eyes red, he demanded, “Luna, I’m your husband. Why are you always siding with him?” 1 The next time I saw Cole Stone, it was raining heavily outside. I leaned under the eaves of the villa, gazing at the dark sky, my heart filled with despair. Linda had mentioned she’d never seen the ocean, and Justin had forgotten our wedding anniversary, dropped all his work, and flown her to the Maldives. This wasn’t the first time. Ever since Linda returned from abroad, everything about her took precedence over me. At dinner, it had to be her favorite dishes. When going out, it had to be places she wanted to visit. I kept telling myself that Linda had a heart condition, that she was pitiful, and I should be accommodating. Until Justin’s birthday. I put on his favorite seductive red dress and straddled his lap. Justin’s breath hitched instantly, and he fiercely pushed me down. Just then, a unique phone ringtone chimed. I knew it was the exclusive ringtone Justin had set for Linda. I desperately wanted him to ignore it, to be lost in passion for me. But it wasn’t to be. The ringtone only rang for three seconds before the desire in his eyes completely vanished. He answered the call, spoke a few words, then grabbed his jacket and rushed out the door. He left me, disheveled, lying alone on the sofa. Even then, I was still reassuring myself: What if something really had happened to Linda? After all, her health truly wasn’t good. I talked myself into feeling better for a long time. But the moment I opened my phone, I saw Linda’s latest social media post. The photo showed a rather unappetizing cake, with crooked English letters and a very poorly drawn design. My gaze was instantly drawn to a finger accidentally visible in the corner of the photo. On that finger, was my identical wedding ring. It was Justin. I instinctively tried to find an excuse for them, but Linda’s caption left my mind blank. She wrote: [My knight hasn’t broken his vows and will always protect his princess, but this time the princess isn’t hurt. Instead, she’s prepared a little surprise for her knight—a cake made by the princess herself! Happy Birthday, my most loyal knight~] So, nothing had happened to her. My heart felt like it had been brutally torn open, the pain making my eyes red, curling into a ball, trembling uncontrollably. By noon the next day, Justin returned from Linda’s, and we had a massive argument. The outcome of this argument was not good; Justin moved Linda into our house. Of course, I disagreed, hysterically telling her to get out of our home. Linda immediately had a heart attack and was rushed to the hospital. After that, my life seemed to fall into a cycle. It began with an argument with Justin and ended with Linda in the hospital. Over and over again. Now, all that was left was exhaustion. Even with all the lights on in the house, I felt no warmth, only loneliness. Just then, I looked up, as if sensing something, and met a pair of familiar yet unfamiliar eyes. 2 It was Cole Stone. He stood under a distant streetlamp, looking much changed. He was thinner, devoid of his former carefree swagger. His slightly long hair obscured one eye. He wasn’t holding an umbrella. The rain had soaked his white shirt, making him look disheveled and pathetic. Suddenly, his body trembled. As if realizing I was watching him, he immediately turned to leave. But something seemed wrong with his body. After just two steps, he lost his balance and fell to the ground. I instantly forgot my self-pity, rushed into the rain, and helped him up. “Cole, are you okay?” Under the faint glow of the streetlamp, I finally saw Cole’s face clearly. “What happened to your eye?” I asked, surprised. One of Cole’s eyes had completely turned gray, hazy and devoid of any light. He turned his head away, like a timid puppy, hiding his entire face in the shadows, his voice trembling as he said, “This eye… can’t see…” My heart ached for him. He was the moonlight I had once chased in my youth, and I never imagined he would become like this. I helped him inside, grabbed a clean bath towel, and handed it to him. “Hurry, take a hot shower. Don’t catch a cold!” Cole nodded silently, lowering his eyes as he unbuttoned his shirt. I quickly turned my back. “You go ahead and wash. I’ll get you some clean clothes.” I rushed to the walk-in closet, grabbed a pair of Justin’s pajamas, but found Cole still standing by the bathroom door, his fingers clumsily wrestling with the buttons. Seeing my confused gaze, Cole lowered his head in embarrassment. “I… after losing my eye, my limbs feel a bit out of control. The doctor said it’s sensory integration disorder…” As he spoke, he shivered, and his lips lost color, turning pale. I immediately lost all reason, dropping the clothes and rushing over. “It’s okay, I’ll help you!” Cole was very compliant, standing still as I unbuttoned his shirt, one by one. My fingers accidentally brushed his cold skin. He shivered lightly, then his ear tips turned bright red. He suddenly grabbed my hand, whispering, “I… I can do it myself…” I also became self-conscious belatedly. Just as I was about to let go, I heard an angry shout from outside the door. “Luna, what are you doing?!” I turned around to see Justin standing in the doorway, his shoulder half-soaked. I couldn’t help but frown. “Why are you back?” “Why am I back? So I can wait for you to cheat on me?!” Justin’s face was furious, but I only found him utterly unreasonable. “Justin, watch your mouth. Cole is an old friend of mine. There’s nothing going on between us!” “Nothing going on? I saw you taking off his clothes with my own eyes. How is that ‘nothing going on’?” “Are you done or not? I told you…” Just as I was about to argue with Justin, Cole grabbed my hand. “Luna, it’s all my fault. Don’t argue with your husband over me.” Then he bowed to Justin. “Brother, please don’t misunderstand Luna. My health isn’t good. She was just helping me. I just wanted to see Luna today. I’ve seen her, so I’ll leave now and won’t bother you.” His voice was trembling as he spoke. I immediately felt compassion and grabbed his hand. “Cole, ignore him. You’re staying here for a few days. I’ll take good care of you.” “Luna, are you insane?! Who invites someone of the opposite sex to live in their home and take care of them?!” No sooner had Justin’s words fallen than a weak voice sounded from behind him. “Justin, are you arguing with my sister again because of me?” 3 Justin’s expression froze. He was speechless for a long moment. When he didn’t respond, Linda stepped forward. Seeing Cole, she also faltered. But the next second, her eyes turned red, and she pleaded with me, almost tearfully, “It’s all my fault, Sister Luna. I shouldn’t have said I’d never seen the ocean. That way, Justin wouldn’t have left you to take me to the Maldives.” “Luckily, it rained heavily today, and the plane couldn’t take off. Justin can spend tonight with you. I’ll leave now.” Justin’s face immediately filled with distress. “Linda, you don’t need to leave. This is your home. You can stay as long as you like!” Normally, I would have argued with Justin, demanding to know how he could make decisions about a house that was half mine. But now, I immediately nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Cole, the same goes for you. This is your home. Stay as long as you want, don’t mind what anyone else says.” Justin looked at me in disbelief. “Luna, are you calling me ‘anyone else’? Have you forgotten? I’m your husband!” Hearing that, before I could react, Linda clutched her chest and softly whimpered, “Justin, I’m hurting.” Justin instantly forgot everything else, scooping Linda into his arms and carrying her back to the room. I also breathed a sigh of relief, quickly nudging Cole towards the shower. Then I found Justin’s most expensive silk bedsheets and spread them out in the guest room. After getting everything ready, I went back to wait by the bathroom door. Cole had sensory integration disorder; I was worried he might have difficulty. While waiting, I ran into Justin coming downstairs to get medicine for Linda. He looked at me and sneered, “Luna, you don’t need to debase yourself for another man just to spite me.” I was about to curse him out, but then I heard the bathroom door open. Justin’s eyes instantly widened. He raised his voice in disbelief. “Luna, you actually put my pajamas on this… this stranger!” Cole, fresh out of the shower, became instantly flustered. He pressed his lips together and said, “Luna, I didn’t know these were Brother Justin’s clothes. I’ll go change right now.” I quickly pulled him back. “Change what? Your clothes are soaked. Just wear these.” Then I turned to scold Justin. “Can’t you be less petty? Are you really so stingy about a single pair of pajamas?” Justin’s chest heaved with anger. “Is this about the clothes?! Luna, do you even remember who the man of this house is?!” Just then, Linda suddenly emerged from the room. “Justin, what’s happening? Why did it take you so long to get the medicine?” She was wearing Justin’s and my matching couple’s pajamas, a bracelet Justin had given me for my birthday was on her wrist, and a Miu Miu hair clip I’d bought last week was in her hair. Justin was uncharacteristically silent. He placed the medicine in Linda’s hand, then, as she began to try and keep him there, he said, “You rest. I have something else to do.” He then grabbed my arm and dragged me into our bedroom. He clearly had something to say, but I didn’t want to hear it. I kicked him away and walked out. Only after making sure Cole was completely settled did I return to my room. Justin had been waiting for me for a long time. He sat by the window, surrounded by smoke, the ashtray in front of him overflowing with cigarette butts. I frowned, walked over, and pushed open the window. “All you do is smoke, smoke, smoke! Can’t you learn from Cole? He never smokes!” Justin nearly choked, coughing for half a minute before recovering, then gritted his teeth and said, “Luna, do you have nothing else to talk about besides Cole?” “No, just like you have nothing to talk about with me besides Linda.” Hearing me mention Linda’s name, Justin’s expression grew impatient again. He was about to accuse me of being petty, but then he turned and saw the wedding anniversary cake on the table. It sat there, lonely and untouched. It was then that he suddenly remembered: today was our fifth wedding anniversary. Justin’s tone softened abruptly. “Luna, I’m sorry. I forgot today was our wedding anniversary. I’ll make it up to you.” “I’ve already scheduled heart surgery for Linda. After her recovery, I’ll send her away, okay?” When Justin was gentle, his deep, pool-like eyes could almost drown a person. I almost agreed to his terms. Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door, and Cole’s voice came through.

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On the set of a live reality show, the celebrity everyone privately nicknamed “The Viper” suddenly snatched my phone. She announced she was doing a surprise “phone inspection” for the cameras. The thing is, I only have one contact in my entire phonebook. The name is saved as “My Sweetest Heart.” When she saw that, her eyes lit up. Without a second’s hesitation, she mashed the call button. A few seconds later, her own phone started ringing. The live-stream chat exploded. 1 And The Viper? She absolutely lost it. Her face became a kaleidoscope of fury and embarrassment. I couldn’t stop myself from letting out a wheezing cackle that sounded like a flock of dying geese. The host just stood there, frozen, with no idea how to salvage the train wreck. After all, The Viper—Seraphina—and I were famous for hating each other’s guts. And now, it looked like the two of us were calling each other pet names in private. Forget her, I was cringing so hard my spine was trying to escape my body. But the thought of making Seraphina squirm was just too delicious. Another wave of honking laughter burst out of me. 2 Seraphina was born with a silver spoon in her mouth. She’d stormed into Hollywood to chase a man, and her debut was a nine-figure blockbuster with a cast so star-studded it was intimidating. I, on the other hand, was a nobody. I clawed my way up through indie web series, hoping to snag a few fans by sheer volume of work. Our worlds should never have collided. But a while back, I happened to be in the same city—and the same restaurant—as the latest A-list heartthrob. The paparazzi snapped a picture and ran with it, spinning a whole story about a secret affair. Seraphina went ballistic. Because that A-lister was the man she was famously obsessed with. As soon as she heard I was supposedly with her idol, she put a target on my back. First came the bot-farm-fueled hate trends and the sabotaged castings. Then she started showing up at every event I was at, finding any opportunity to undermine me, to isolate me, until my reputation was in shreds. It was a calculated attack, and I never saw it coming. By the time I realized what was happening, I was branded a desperate, pathetic clout-chaser. My already scarce job offers dried up completely. I was close to not even being able to book a cheap commercial. This reality show was, without a doubt, another one of her traps. But I’d learned my lesson. I came prepared for anything. And not only did I dodge the bullet, I managed to fire one right back. 3 After the phone incident, the set was pure chaos for a long time. Lucas, the A-lister himself, was also a guest on the show. When he first saw the contact name, he kept shooting me these looks, a mix of disgust and certainty, like he was about to tell me to give up my pathetic little crush. Now that the truth was out, he was just as stunned as everyone else. “How could it be? How is that Seraphina’s number? Weren’t you obsessed with me? You even followed me to my hotel.” I just rolled my eyes and played dumb. “Beats me.” Seraphina was frozen solid. After a long, agonizing moment, she stormed over, shoved my shoulder, and spat, “You set me up! How could I possibly be your ‘Sweetest Heart’?” Still refusing to believe it, she started frantically digging through my phone. First, the photo gallery. It was filled with every gorgeous picture she’d ever posted online, from last year to this morning. Not a single one was missing. Next, my DMs. Her chat was pinned to the top, her name saved as “The Most Beautiful Angel in the Universe.” Then, she checked my social media. My private, anonymous account was suddenly on display for the world to see, its feed a cringeworthy monument to cheesy romance quotes. “I can lift a 200-pound barbell, but I can’t lift the thought of you off my mind.” “Your father must have been a thief, because he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes.” “I wish I were your shadow, so I could follow you for the rest of your life.” The most recent post was from yesterday. “Sera, my sweetest heart, my number one darling, you’re living rent-free in my head 24/7.” Seraphina stared at the screen, her expression turning vacant. She looked at it for so long I thought she might burn a hole through the glass, her slender fingers completely still. She only looked up when the host called her name. Her eyes, once sharp and bright, were now filled with a baffled sort of defeat. As the host tried to fill the dead air with loud, fake enthusiasm, she seemed to drift into her own world. Her voice was a fragile, distant whisper when she finally asked the question that seemed to echo from another dimension. “You… you’re really that into me?” I almost burst out laughing again. Of course not. I’d bought the account from a meme page a few days ago. The original owner had collected all those cheesy quotes; I’d only written the last one. But to really twist the knife, I leaned in close, my voice a conspiratorial whisper. “Yeah. Took you long enough to notice, didn’t it?” Seraphina looked horrified. She stumbled back a few steps, the words “Get away from me” practically written on her forehead. Seeing her so freaked out sent a jolt of pure, unadulterated joy through me. It had been so long since I’d felt the thrill of victory. I was giddy with it. I shot her a cocky, triumphant smirk. Her face cycled through that beautiful rainbow of emotions again, finally settling on a deep, burning red as she slowly turned her head away. 4 By the time we left the studio, we were the number one trending topic. #PiperAndSera #PipersNameToSera #SeraSweetestHeart #SerasFacepalm #SeraBlushing #SeraOuted #PiperGetOutOfHollywood Every tag was marked with a little flame icon, indicating it was viral. The internet was on fire. [Piper and Sera, is this for real?] [LOL someone’s asking if it’s real. Of course not! Sera totally ignored her afterward. This is all Piper’s one-sided obsession!] [First she leeches off Lucas, now she’s leeching off Sera. She’ll attach herself to anyone famous!] [My poor Sera, having to deal with this parasite again. There there.] Predictably, the hate was still pouring in for me. But I never expected to fix my reputation overnight. Just surviving her latest trap was a win. I was feeling pretty good about myself. I put on a face mask and drifted off into a deep, satisfied sleep. I was dead to the world when my phone started vibrating like a jackhammer. My agent, Jenna, was calling me over and over again. “What the hell is going on with you and Seraphina? And what does her latest post even mean?” Jenna’s voice roared through the speaker, loud enough to shake the fillings in my teeth. The blast of sound left me dazed and confused. It took me a solid minute to remember the reality show, the phone call, all of it. “Seraphina?” I mumbled. “Oh, I just messed with her a little yesterday.” “And the post? What was that post about?” “She posted something?” I closed my eyes, trying to think. “Probably trashing me.” Jenna sounded like she was about to have an aneurysm. “Are you still in bed? Get up, wash your face, and look at Seraphina’s social media. Then you’re going to call me back and explain to me exactly where you two stand!” The line went dead. I groaned, ready to roll over and go back to sleep, but my eyes caught the notification bubble on my phone. 99+ new messages. I tapped it open. They were all from Seraphina, sent late last night. It was a dizzying wall of text. I had to scroll all the way to the top just to start reading. Sera: I need to think about what happened this afternoon. Sera: I never knew you felt that way about me. Am I really that irresistible? Well, of course I am. I’ve been a heartbreaker since kindergarten. Sera: So all that stuff with Lucas… you were just studying the competition? Sera: You little schemer. You didn’t even try to deny the rumors, did you? Figuring that would get my attention? Sera: Well, it worked. Sera: I admit it. Your little game got to me. Sera: Okay, here’s the deal. If you can win Best Actress, I’ll give you a chance to win me over. Sera: That’s not asking too much, right? Sera: I mean, I’m this amazing. You’ve got to work for it if you want to be worthy of me. … She went quiet for a moment. About ten minutes passed before the next message. Sera: Why aren’t you answering? Giving me the silent treatment? Sera: Is it because my standards are too high? Sera: Fine. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive. Forget the Best Actress award, whatever. I guess I can spoil you a little. Sera: Pick a date. We’ll make it official. Sera: How about in two minutes? It’ll be 10:22. Do you like the number 22? Sera: … Sera: Still not talking? You’re not just messing with me, are you? Sera: It’s 10:25 now! You missed the perfect time! Could you at least try to act like a proper girlfriend! Sera: What is your deal? Sera: You don’t want to go public? Fine. Whatever. Sera: It’s not like I was dying to announce it anyway. LOL, who’s the one who’s desperate here? You’re so full of it. Sera: … Sera: Baby, I’m sorry. Sera: I was just kidding. Please don’t ignore me. Sera: All my money will be yours. Just please talk to me? [Venmo: $20,000] Sera: I maxed out my transfer limit. I’ll sign the deed to my condo over to you tomorrow. Sera: It’s about time we got a place together anyway. Sera: Not that I’m in a rush to get married. I’m only bringing it up because I know you’re probably getting impatient. Don’t get the wrong idea. Sera: What color wedding dress do you like? What style for the house? Do you want to live here or abroad? A year-long honeymoon should be enough, right? I’m not going to spoil you more than that. A woman needs her career, after all. Sera: … Sera: Still ignoring me? Sera: I get it. You’re worried I won’t be… good enough. In that department. Sera: Look, it’ll be my first time with a woman too, but I’m a very fast learner. I promise I won’t disappoint you. Sera: Nothing? You don’t believe me? Sera: You’re playing with fire, woman. Sera: … The more I read, the more awake I became, all traces of sleepiness obliterated. Jenna’s furious shouting echoed in my head, and I finally understood why. My hands trembled as I opened up my social media app. Seraphina’s name was at the top of every trending list. I clicked on it. She had just reposted a trashy tabloid article that accused me of being a clout-chasing parasite. And her caption read: “Touch my woman and you die.” The post had over a hundred thousand comments in minutes. 5 “Blocked! You’re all blocked!” Seraphina was on a rampage, threatening to get every single tabloid account shut down. Her fans were having a meltdown of their own. [Sera, sweetie, what are you doing?] [Are you seriously with Piper?] [Piper has nothing to offer you! Even Lucas would be better, at least he’s on your level!] My vision went dark for a second. Seraphina’s the one who posted it, so how am I the one getting all the hate? Is she trying to get me cyberbullied to death? I scrolled down. It wasn’t just that one post. She was arguing with everyone in the comments. Fan: [Piper is just playing you! Only your fans are loyal to you! Wake up, Sera!] Seraphina reposted that one with her own reply. “Playing me? Impossible. She’s been hopelessly in love with me for years, she was just too scared to admit it. If I hadn’t made the first move, she’d still be pining in secret.” Her fans were devastated. [Piper has no career and no money! She’s obviously just after your fortune!] Sera’s reply: “Then why isn’t she after someone else’s fortune? It’s because she’s in love with me.” [This is a publicity stunt! It has to be!] Sera’s unfiltered response: “LOL, try not to be so bitter.” Finally, at the bottom of the feed, I found an original post from her. Sera: To think that all this time, in places I couldn’t see, someone was loving me for years. She’d even added a blushing smiley face emoji. I was dumbfounded. What was she even talking about? I could read the individual words, but strung together they made absolutely no sense. I didn’t save that many photos of her, just everything from the past year. Does she actually want to be my “Sweetest Heart”? This is a nightmare. I need to go back to sleep. Two minutes later, I shot up in bed, wanting to slap myself. What have I done? Why did I have to create that stupid contact name? What am I supposed to do now? Am I actually going to have to be Seraphina’s girlfriend? No way. I’m straight. A proud, card-carrying straight woman. How am I supposed to be someone’s girlfriend? Although… Seraphina’s not so bad. I mean, besides being completely unhinged, she’s actually pretty normal. Maybe I should just text her and clear this whole thing up. I picked up my phone, my thumb hovering over the keyboard. Just then, a message from Jenna popped up on the screen. “I think I have the gist of the situation now. Just a friendly reminder: when Seraphina thought you were her rival, she made your life a living hell. Can you imagine what she’ll do if she finds out you were just playing with her feelings? And besides, she’s not really into you. She’s probably just using you to make Lucas jealous. You should use this opportunity while you have it.” Oh. So she’s just using me to get to Lucas. A wave of relief washed over me. I smoothly typed out a message and sent it to Seraphina. “Good morning, my love! Sorry, I was asleep! Didn’t mean to not reply. Just wanted to say I love you today too! Mwah, sweetest heart!” Seraphina replied instantly. “Tsk. So needy.” She followed it up with an image. I opened it. It was a spreadsheet. It listed the names of several tabloid accounts and individual trolls. I recognized a few of them, the ones who were always posting photoshopped, unflattering pictures of me. My heart skipped a beat. Had she…? Seraphina’s next message was dripping with regal authority. “These accounts have all been banned. Don’t worry. I’ll make everyone who ever bullied you pay the price. I’m going to let the whole world know that you are mine to protect!” … Well damn. That was actually a huge help. Before I could even type out my gushing thank you—”Thank you, my darling! I love you so much! You’ve made me so happy! Mwah mwah mwah!”—another novel-length message arrived. “So, are you looking for any acting roles right now? Any scripts you’re interested in? Are you free today? We could go take care of some paperwork. I’ll sign my house over to you first, then we can get our marriage license. Oh, have you thought about a wedding venue yet? And the dress color? You never answered my questions from last night, were you even paying attention to what I wrote? All you do is act cute. You can’t just get by on my love for you! Can’t you focus on the important things for once? You exasperating, irresistible little minx!” “…” I was getting a headache just reading it. Who taught her to type this much? Is she training for a marathon with her thumbs? 6 On the trending charts, two topics were pinned to the very top. #SeraTouchMyWoman #PiperIsMyWoman My friends and relatives spent the next hour absolutely roasting me in the group chat, while the person responsible for all of it was busy planning our wedding. I laughed. But behind the laughter, my brain was just a blank screen of static. I had no idea how things had gotten to this point, only that it felt very, very wrong. It took all my diplomatic skills to steer her away from the topics of marriage licenses and property deeds. Seraphina was a little pouty after being turned down. “Fine. No license. But we can at least make our relationship official online, right? You can post a few of my selfies to stake your claim.” She sent a picture. [selfie.jpg] “I’m so devastatingly beautiful, it’s only natural for you to desire me. Of course, you’re not bad looking yourself. A perfect match for me, really.” “Why aren’t you saying anything? Did the picture not send?” [selfie.jpg] “You see it this time, right?” “Don’t tell me you still haven’t gotten it. Why are you so quiet? Are you blushing? Heh. You silly little thing. If you like them, just say so. I’ll send you as many as you want. All of me belongs to you, let alone a few pictures.” I could feel goosebumps crawling up my arms. How does she type this stuff without throwing up in her mouth a little? She has to be doing this just to mess with me. My morning was already a mess, and her cringey messages were the last straw. I decided to fight fire with fire. “Sera, you’re so pretty! I love you so much! Licking the screen rn.” She immediately sent a barrage of fifty consecutive selfies, seeming incredibly excited by my response, even though her words said the opposite. “Whoops, my finger slipped. Sent too many. Just delete them on your end. And don’t you dare save them secretly. Also, you’re a real pervert, you know that? I knew you were trying to hold back your feelings for me. So this is what you’re really like. It’s so twisted. But I love it. I’ve always liked people who are direct. You little devil. I just want to pin you down and have my way with you right now.” … I wanted to have my way with her too, preferably by strangling her. But her public image was already a smoldering crater after this morning’s meltdown; exposing her cringey DMs wouldn’t even make a dent. Seriously, where was she getting these lines? I couldn’t take it anymore. I furiously typed out the most vicious, cutting words I could think of. “That contact name was just a prank to mess with you!” Then, slowly, I deleted it. Forget it. My life is more important. 7 During the show’s taping that afternoon, Seraphina was practically glowing. Thanks to yesterday’s drama, the host kept trying to drag us into the conversation. Seraphina, like a peacock showing off its feathers, preened for the cameras, her voice dripping with a smug satisfaction that a deaf person could have picked up on. “That’s right, I have a girlfriend. I’ve had an awakening… of my identity. I think I’m better suited to be the one who wears the pants in the relationship. A joke? What joke? I’m completely serious—” At that point, the host physically dragged her off-stage. When she returned, she was scowling and muttering a string of very colorful curses under her breath, making it clear she held the entire production in contempt. The host, at his wit’s end, quickly started the next game segment. I was standing off to the side, far from the main cameras, sipping a cup of tea. Another actress, about as famous as I was, sidled up to me. “How come Sera didn’t pull you into the spotlight with her? What’s the deal with you two? She’s not going to beat you up after what happened yesterday, is she?” I would have loved to talk trash about Seraphina, but given my new, very public “role,” I had to play nice. “No,” I explained. “She’s actually really sweet.” “So you two are really together?” the actress asked, her eyes gleaming with gossip. I chose my words carefully. “Not—” “Heh.” A familiar, smug laugh came from behind me. A second later, an arm snaked around my shoulders. It was Seraphina. “I know you’re shy, baby, but you can’t just lie like that. We’re obviously together,” she purred, then turned to the other actress. “Yes. We’re together.” She then turned back to me, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You still haven’t answered my question from this morning. When are we going to make it official? I just want to tie you to my side so you can never leave me. How’s that for a public declaration?” My jaw dropped. Where on earth was she finding these lines? “It’s… great,” I said, my voice betraying my utter disbelief. “I think so too,” Seraphina agreed. “I’ll have a master astrologer pick an auspicious date, and we’ll announce it in style.” As she spoke, I watched the other actress’s expression morph from hopeful excitement to baffled confusion, to the kind of look you give a raving lunatic, before she just sort of… drifted away in a daze. A shame. I think she’d wanted to ask for an autograph. Once the actress was gone, Seraphina slid into the seat beside me. Suddenly, we were very close, and her clean, cool scent washed over me. A casual glance revealed the impossibly smooth, pale skin of her neck. She rested her cheek on her hand, and when she noticed me looking, a self-satisfied smirk played on her lips. “Staring again? Can’t get enough of me? You’re just that obsessed, aren’t you?” On pure instinct, I cooed, “My darling sweetie-pie is the prettiest girl in the whole wide world. I can’t help but look!” She raised an eyebrow, a smile she couldn’t suppress blooming on her face. “So that’s why you ran off to a corner as soon as I left the stage. Can’t function without me, huh? Don’t love me too much. Heh. Hehehehehe. Hahahahahahaha! You clingy little thing. I swear I’m going to sew you into the pocket of my dress. You should have just told me you liked me sooner. Who knows how much longer you would have suffered in silence if I hadn’t found you out yesterday.” Once she started, she couldn’t stop. Inside, I was thinking: You are completely insane. Outwardly, I just nodded along. “Yes, I love you SO much.” She started giggling again, her bright eyes shining with an emotion I couldn’t quite decipher. I smiled back at her. I’ve always been a smiler, so it was easy. After a moment, she said, “You know, you’re so sweet, baby. You’re the first person who just… goes along with everything I want. And your smile is so beautiful.” I almost snorted. What a load of crap. She was rich and powerful. The world was probably full of people who bent over backward for her. But then I reconsidered. With a personality as certifiably insane as hers, maybe finding people who could stand her was actually a challenge. Maybe she knew she was a handful. I just kept smiling. She tilted her head slightly, a strand of long, dark hair falling beside her ear. Then she reached out, her pale, delicate fingertip gently brushing against my eyelashes. Ugh. Static. And just like that, my entire body went numb.

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1 Six years ago, my mother escaped my father’s abuse through a bitter divorce. Today, she’s one of this city’s most brilliant entrepreneurs, a guest on a prime-time true-crime talk show. On air, the host prodded her to confront her past, urging her to look into the camera and ask me, “Annie, why did you lie for that monster all those years ago? Why did you commit perjury to help him?” I was propped up in bed, the diagnosis in my hand—stage four bone cancer—crinkling in my grip. A dry, mocking laugh escaped my lips. “Tessa,” I whispered to her image on the screen, “you deserved every last hit.” I still remember my final words to her back then: “Don’t you ever come back for us. If you do, my father and I—the two ‘demons’—we’ll make sure you don’t leave alive.” On the show, my mother let out a cold laugh, telling the entire nation, “I knew it from the start. She’s a bad seed, born rotten. Just like her beast of a father.” She’ll never know. She’ll never know that I traded my life for her ten years of peace. … The broadcast ended. I stared at the static-filled screen for a long time before slowly getting out of bed. I walked to the cramped hallway and pulled out the small, smoky grill cart I used to sell food. Mrs. Gable from next door stepped out, rushing to help me. “Annie, dear, you’re going out this late?” I gently pushed her hands away. “It’s alright, Mrs. Gable. You’ve done more than enough for me over the years.” She paused, her eyes welling up. “I saw the show, Annie. Are you really not going to tell your mother the truth? She’s so wealthy now. If she knew…” “Mrs. Gable!” I cut her off, my voice sharp. “She doesn’t need to know.” “I can support myself with the cart. I’ll pay back the money I owe you as soon as I can.” With that, I summoned every ounce of strength I had and pushed the heavy cart away. My mother was a star that had fallen into the mud. She never belonged in this filthy world, and she didn’t need to know its filthy secrets. Besides, the doctor said I had a week, at most. Soon, I’d take this secret with me to hell, right alongside that monster. The night market was a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds. I found my usual spot and laid out the skewers on the grill, the acrid smoke stinging my eyes. Suddenly, a sharp voice cut through the noise. “There she is! Wreck it!” I looked up. Jasmine, my mother’s adopted daughter and chosen heir, was striding toward me, flanked by bodyguards. “You little trash,” she sneered. “Still have the face to be out here peddling your filth?” She kicked the grill over, sending hot coals scattering across the pavement. “If you hadn’t lied on the stand, my mother wouldn’t have suffered so much! You’re a monster, just like him. Why don’t you just die already!” Her palm cracked against my cheek. For a moment, all sound vanished from my right ear. The few customers at nearby stalls stared. Someone actually clapped. “So that’s Annie Wei, the girl who defended her abusive dad! Serves her right!” Jasmine grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked me to the ground. My knee landed on the searing hot coals. A scream tore from my throat as I thrashed against the agony. But ever since the cancer took hold, my bones had become as fragile as glass; the slightest knock could cause a fracture. Against Jasmine’s assault, I was helpless. I could only lie there as she sat on me, raining down blow after blow. The scene felt sickeningly familiar, a replay of six years ago. Jasmine had bullied me for three years in school, cornering me in bathrooms, beating me until I was bruised and bloody. But I still preferred school. Because the beatings at home, from my father, were always worse. “Jasmine.” A familiar, cool voice drifted from above. The fists stopped. Jasmine scrambled off me, turning to face my mother. Her expression instantly shifted to one of a wounded victim. “Aunt Tessa, what are you doing here?” My mother stood at the edge of the crowd. She wore a beige trench coat, her hair pinned back immaculately. Every gesture radiated the quiet confidence of a mature, successful woman. She didn’t even spare me a glance. She took Jasmine’s hand gently. “Does it hurt?” Jasmine whined, “Yes. Her skin is so tough, my knuckles are all red.” My mother bent her head and blew softly on Jasmine’s hand. “Let the bodyguards handle this sort of thing next time.” I watched the tender scene unfold, my arms trembling as I tried to subtly wipe the blood from my mouth with my sleeve. Tessa had raised her daughter well. Charming and cute, with the perfect amount of a rich girl’s entitlement. “Aunt Tessa, her little stand doesn’t even have a permit! I already called my uncle at code enforcement. They’ll be here to haul it away any minute!” A tremor of fear shot through me. This cart was my only source of income. After paying back Mrs. Gable, there was just enough left for painkillers. My nails dug into my palms as I forced myself to meet my mother’s gaze. She looked at me, a long, deep look, and did nothing to stop it. A few minutes later, city officials arrived and confiscated everything. Jasmine was ecstatic. “Aunt Tessa, you’re the best to me. Little vermin like her don’t deserve a way to live!” I fought against the searing pain in my bones, managing only a pained smile. The word “Mom” rose in my throat, but I swallowed it back down. “Ms. Lu,” I said, “Jasmine isn’t the right choice.” Jasmine’s eyes flashed with anger. “What did you say? Who do you think you are to talk?” I ignored her, keeping my voice steady as I looked at my mother. “Her character isn’t suited to be your heir. You should keep looking.” My mother’s eyes were fixed on my pale face. I saw her fist clench inside her coat pocket. Her voice was laced with scorn. “Who I choose as my heir is none of your damn business.” A sharp sting filled my nose. All I could do was offer another weak smile as I watched my mother lead Jasmine away and climb into a Porsche. After a long moment, I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head with a trembling hand, hiding the fresh bruises on my face. I cleaned up the mess amidst the pointing fingers and whispered insults, then limped back to my tiny apartment. Inside the Porsche, Tessa spoke quietly to her assistant. “Look into any and all contact between Jasmine and Annie Wei.” Jasmine’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Aunt Tessa, you’re investigating me… because of something she said?!” She looked at my mother’s cold profile, her lip trembling. “We’re mother and daughter… Mom…” Tessa shot her a sideways glance. “Jasmine, you’re overstepping. If you are qualified, you will become my successor. There is no need to bring our relationship into it.” A dark cloud passed over Jasmine’s face as she clenched her fists. 2 My mother was born into wealth. She cut ties with her family to marry my father, a simple fisherman named Rick. Rick was a monster, but he played the part of a loving husband just long enough for my mother to give birth. “Useless bitch, couldn’t even give me a son! I’ll beat you to death!” He never held back, raining fists and feet on my mother right in front of me. I never cried. I just watched. As a little girl, I didn’t understand that crying was a way to show sadness or pity. I only knew that if Mom was crying, then I couldn’t. Eventually, I learned the patterns of his rage. Whenever Rick went out drinking, I’d slip a sleeping pill into my mother’s water. Then I’d go downstairs and wait for him. I would provoke him, and he would unleash all his drunken fury on me. And my mother would be safe. My sweet, naive mother. She had been so sheltered growing up. No matter how badly he hurt her, she would just hold me and cry, telling me to believe in love, to believe there was still good in the world. I would look at her, my heart a piece of ice. Mom didn’t belong here. She was a golden phoenix fallen into a cesspool. No matter the cost, I had to lift her out. I woke from a nightmare and used the wall to steady myself as I made my way to the basement. Since the cancer had advanced, every bone in my body ached. They fractured at the slightest impact, and the wounds were slow to heal. Jasmine’s beating today had left me with a limp. The damp, cold air sent sharp pains shooting up my ankle. Rick was chained to the wall. He heard me approach and lifted his head. His cloudy, ancient eyes widened in a mix of fear and rage. “You little monster! I raised you for over a decade, and this is how you repay me? Did you forget who took you to the clinic when that john broke your leg?” I looked at him, my expression blank. “And who sent me to that john in the first place?” He was momentarily stunned, then let out a cold laugh. “So what if it was me? If you didn’t sell yourself, how was I supposed to get money for my gambling?” The chains rattled as he leaned closer. “You’ve been turning tricks for years. Did your mother ever come looking for you? What do you think she’d do if she knew her precious daughter started at fourteen? She’d probably puke.” I watched his mouth open and close, feeling nothing. There was a time when his words would have cut me to the bone, left me bleeding with shame and hatred. But I was already dying. What did any of it matter now? I turned and picked up a pair of pliers from a nearby shelf, testing their weight in my hand. Rick’s smile vanished. “What are you doing?” I grabbed his jaw, forcing his mouth open. I raised the pliers. “If you can’t learn to speak like a human,” I said coldly, “then you don’t need these teeth.” His eyes bulged in terror as a muffled scream escaped his throat. “Annie!” An inhuman shriek echoed through the basement. 3 The next morning, I got a fine from code enforcement. Two thousand dollars. Jasmine’s revenge was vicious. I emptied every last cent I had to my name to pay it. Now I didn’t even have money for painkillers, let alone what I owed Mrs. Gable. My body was deteriorating by the day. Time was running out. I turned down a waitress job a neighbor offered me. Instead, holding a flyer for a clinical research facility, I headed to the outskirts of the city. The lab was stark and bare. The pay was five thousand dollars a session. Your life was your own risk. I signed the contract and was led to a simple gurney. The needle in the doctor’s hand gleamed under the fluorescent lights. I closed my eyes, one thought repeating in my mind. Pay back Mrs. Gable, then go to hell with that monster. It’s worth it. My broken, worthless life for my mother’s happiness. It’s worth it. “Annie!” A vicious slap cracked across my face, so hard it sent me sprawling from the gurney to the floor. I coughed, blood sputtering from my lips. Dazed, I looked up. My mother was standing over me, her eyes blazing with a fury and terror I had never seen before. “Are you trying to kill yourself?!” She grabbed my wrist to haul me up. The second her fingers touched my arm, she froze. Beneath the thin layer of skin, there was only sharp, unyielding bone. Like a dead branch in winter, ready to snap. Her hand stayed there, suspended. After a moment, she looked at me, her lips trembling. “Why… why are you so thin?” Her eyes reddened, but the flicker of sorrow was immediately consumed by a deeper rage. She threw my arm down, her voice shrill. “Annie, look at you! Look at what you’ve become! You let them beat you, curse you, and you don’t even fight back! And now you’re here, selling your life for drug trials? Are you that pathetic?!” She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving. “How could I have a daughter like you? I can’t believe it. I, Tessa Lu, raised a daughter who would let herself live like this!” Every word was a poisoned dart, striking me right in the heart. I lowered my eyes as a single tear hit the floor. Being scorned by my own mother… it hurt more than the cancer. Jasmine’s assistant had appeared in the doorway. He whispered something in her ear. Jasmine’s eyes lit up. She hooked her arm through my mother’s, her voice dripping with fake concern. “Aunt Tessa, don’t be angry. People like her aren’t worth your energy.” She looked down at me, her expression openly triumphant. “I bet you don’t know how she’s really been living all these years, do you, Aunt Tessa? By spreading her legs. Selling skewers by day, selling herself by night.” She pulled a stack of photos from her purse and threw them. They scattered across the linoleum floor. They were pictures of me. In bed. With a series of different men. 4 My mother picked one up, her hand shaking uncontrollably. “Annie, are you that desperate for men? Are you that depraved?!” A crowd had gathered. I could hear their whispers. “She’ll really sleep with anyone, won’t she.” “No wonder Ms. Lu disowned her. She’s utterly shameless.” The veins on the back of my mother’s hand stood out as she gripped the photos, her gaze so intense it felt like it was peeling my skin off. “You’re coming with me.” She grabbed my arm, her grip so tight I thought the bone would shatter. “To the hospital! And then to the police station! You are going to turn yourself in and confess every sordid thing you’ve ever done!” She dragged me two steps before my bad leg gave out. I looked up at her taut, furious profile. “Mom.” She stopped. My voice was a fragile whisper. “Having a daughter like me… does it bring you so much shame?” She turned, her eyes red-rimmed and raw. She ground the words out through her teeth. “If you needed money, why didn’t you come to me? Would it have killed you to just apologize?” She shook me by the shoulders, her nails digging into my flesh. “Come with me and confess! I’ll beg the police for leniency.” I opened my mouth to speak, but froze. A familiar figure had appeared in the doorway. It was Rick. He was covered in filth and blood, a knife clutched in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot as he roared, his words slurred and indistinct, “Bitch! I’ll kill you!” He charged toward my mother, the tip of the blade aimed straight for her heart. My mother stood frozen. He was too close. There was no time to move. Jasmine cowered in the distance, screaming at her assistant. “What did you do?! Why is he going after Aunt Tessa? If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you!” But someone is always faster than a blade. Without a second of hesitation, I shoved my mother out of the way. The moment the knife sank into my chest, it didn’t hurt. A warm liquid just gushed out, dripping from the hilt onto my mother’s expensive coat. Security guards swarmed in, tackling Rick to the ground as he spat muffled curses. I fell backward, into my mother’s arms. Her coat was so soft, and it smelled of a beautiful, clean perfume. I had spent my childhood wondering what it would feel like to be held by her like this. So this was it. Her heart was beating so, so fast. “Annie!! Annie!!” She was calling my name. I tried to keep my eyes open, to look at her. Her tears fell onto my face, warm against my cold skin. I tried to move my lips, to call her “Mom.” But the word was trapped in my throat, and I couldn’t get it out. My mother’s eyes were wild, her voice cracking. “Annie! An ambulance! Somebody call an ambulance!” Jasmine, relieved, walked over and took my mother’s arm. “Aunt Tessa, don’t be so upset. Annie was no good anyway. If she dies, she dies. Just two dogs fighting…” My mother violently threw her arm off. Before Jasmine could react, a voice cried out from the doorway. “That’s a lie!” Mrs. Gable stumbled into the room and fell to her knees beside me. She gathered me into her arms, her tears splashing onto my face. “Annie, you foolish, foolish child…” She looked up at my mother, her old, cloudy eyes filled with tears. “You people have no idea what the truth is. Tessa, the person you’ve wronged most in this life is Annie!”

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1 Demoted, I crouched curb-side, shoveling salty street fries through tears. I texted Silas that I was exhausted and the fries helped. He did not reply. Half an hour later, shivering in the biting Seattle air, I texted again that I needed to talk. His response cut deep. What exactly is the point of this text? Are you trying to get me to reimburse you for your junk food? For six years, I had proven I was not a gold digger. Since his mother drained his accounts and left him millions in debt, Silas despised users. I never spent his money. We split every dinner bill. I returned expensive gifts. I kept our relationship hidden at work so my project results alone impressed the board. Refreshing my feed, I saw Mina, the intern who stole my promotion, post a photo wearing a diamond necklace. The caption thanked Mr. Blackwood for celebrating her promotion. I recognized the limited-edition piece from a magazine. Only three existed worldwide. In six years, Silas had never given me a gift worth more than a hundred dollars. The jewels against Mina’s collarbone were worth at least a million. Tears clouded my screen. My desperate attempts to prove my worth over the years were apparently worth less to him than a cheap carton of street fries. … After choking down the last bite, I hailed a cab back to the corporate tower. The promotion results were already posted on the internal network, but I still needed to ask him where I fell short. I had six years of project management experience. I ranked first in performance reviews for three consecutive years. My team had the lowest turnover rate in the entire company. And I lost to a twenty-two-year-old intern who had just passed her probation period. The moment I stepped out of the cab, I froze. Three yards away, Silas was leaning over, holding the passenger door of his sleek black Bentley open for Mina. “There is no rush on this project,” his voice drifted over, smooth and patient. “Just take your time getting familiar with the workflow. I am taking you to London in a couple of days to meet the clients. It will be a good learning experience.” “But I only just got hired full-time.” Mina sounded appropriately hesitant. “It does not matter.” Silas cut her off, his tone softer than I had ever heard it. “As long as you have the drive, titles do not mean anything. Besides, I am right here. If anything goes wrong, I have your back.” The warm summer wind brushed against my skin, but I felt ice-cold down to my bones. In six years, Silas had traveled to thirty-five countries for business. He never took me on a single trip. He always fed me the same line: “We do not mix personal feelings with company business.” I had even asked him once if I could go purely as the project lead. He had looked at me with cold, evaluating eyes. “Aria, are you trying to use your project metrics to extort a free business trip out of me? You need to remember your place in this company.” Remember my place. I remembered my place so well that I did not dare commute with him. I did not dare post a single picture of us online. I did not even dare step into the same elevator with him at work. And yet, he turned around and told another woman that titles did not mean anything. Mina spotted me standing by the curb and waved enthusiastically. “Aria!” Silas followed her gaze. His eyes swept over me for less than a second before returning to Mina. “Get in,” he told her. “I will drop you off so you can get some rest.” Mina nodded, flashing me a bright, innocent smile. “Are you heading back up to the office, Aria? Or do you want to catch a ride with us?” Silas finally looked at me. “Just call an Uber,” he said flatly. “Mina lives in the opposite direction. It is out of the way.” But at the end of the night, he still had to return to the apartment we shared. So what exactly was out of the way? Before I could force a single word out of my throat, he got into the driver’s seat and started the engine. I stood alone in the wind, watching the taillights bleed into the city traffic. I had been chasing that silhouette for six years. 2 There was a time when he would drive across the entire city just to pick me up from a grueling client dinner. Now, I was out of the way. Back at my desk, I logged into the HR portal and pulled up the evaluation matrix. Next to my name, Silas had entered his final score: 58 out of 100. Out of six board members, he gave me the absolute lowest score. I scrolled down to the next page. Next to Mina’s name, his score read: 98. I stared at that glowing 58, feeling like the air had been sucked out of my lungs. I could not breathe. I never expected the fatal blow to come from Silas. He knew exactly what I had sacrificed over the last six years better than anyone alive. He had watched every midnight overtime shift, every sleepless night before a pitch, every flawless quarterly report. Yet he gave me a failing grade. “Why?” I whispered to the empty office. The only answer was the wet slap of a tear hitting my keyboard, followed by the sudden, heavy drumming of rain against the floor-to-ceiling windows. By the time I unlocked the door to our apartment, I was soaked to the bone. Silas was sitting on the leather sofa, a laptop balanced on his knees. He did not even bother to look up. “I told you to take an umbrella this morning.” No dry towel. No hot tea. Not even a shred of genuine concern. I stood in the entryway. Cold rainwater dripped from my hair, pooling onto the hardwood floor. “You gave me a 58 on the evaluation,” I said, my voice hollow. “You gave Mina a 98. Why did you give her the highest score and fail me?” Silas set his laptop on the glass coffee table and leaned back into the cushions. “Because it is fair.” “Fair?” “People in the office are starting to catch on to our relationship,” he said, his tone entirely clinical. “The other board members gave you high scores to save face for me. If I also gave you a high score, the entire evaluation process would lose its integrity. Someone had to give you a reality check, and it had to be me.” I stared at him, a bitter, broken laugh escaping my lips. “Silas, it has been six years. I have never used you to get a single advantage. I bled for every account I brought in. I applied for this promotion based entirely on my data. You know that better than anyone.” He picked up a glass of water, took a slow sip, and set it down with a sharp clink. “You still have not learned how the corporate world works, Aria. If people think you rely on nepotism, then you rely on nepotism. Period. I gave Mina the highest score because she gave her presentation without looking at her notes. She was passionate, composed, and she earned it.” “So you are admitting it,” I said, my voice rising. “You gave her a 98 not because of her actual competence, but because you liked her attitude?” Silas stood up, towering over me with a disappointed scowl. “Can you stop playing the victim every time you face a minor setback? You lost. Deal with it.” I tilted my head back, desperately trying to force the tears down, but my eyes burned like fire. “If I actually lost to her purely on merit, I would shake her hand and walk away. But I lost because of you! Because my boyfriend of six years, the man who saw every ounce of my blood and sweat, decided to play God! Your 58 dragged my average from first place down to fifth!” Silas clicked his tongue, his patience clearly evaporating. “This right here is exactly the difference between you and her. If Mina lost today, she would smile and congratulate you. She stays positive. She does not point fingers. And look at you. You just stand there wallowing in your own misery.” A hysterical laugh tore from my throat as the tears finally spilled over. “I have been wallowing in misery for six years, Silas! Do you know what I am actually miserable about? The fact that I never got to have a normal relationship! Six years of splitting the check, six years of rejecting your gifts, six years of refusing to get in your car just so the whole company could audit my achievements with a microscope.” 3 “I lived like a ghost just to prove I was not the kind of woman you despised!” Silas said nothing. He just stood there, hands shoved in his pockets, watching me fall apart. My legs gave out. I sank to the floor, my hands pressed against the cold wood. Rainwater and tears dripped from my chin. “Six years,” I sobbed, my whole body shaking. “I tried so hard. Why do I have nothing to show for it? Why did it have to be you who ruined it?” Silas’s phone buzzed. He answered it, and instantly, his voice softened into something incredibly gentle. “Mina? Yeah, I am here.” “That market analysis… I will send you a template right now. No, it is not a bother at all.” Mina’s voice leaked through the receiver, soft and insecure. “Mr. Blackwood, am I just completely useless at this?” “You are not useless,” he murmured. “I will walk you through it step by step.” A travel pack of tissues hit the floor next to my knee with a soft thud. “If you are going to cry, do it quietly,” Silas said coldly. “She is still at the office rushing a proposal. You can throw a pity party over a little failure, but at least give the people who actually want to succeed some peace and quiet.” When I walked into the office pantry the next morning, the room was buzzing with whispers. The moment I stepped inside, the chatter died instantly. Someone coughed loudly. Another person stared intently at their empty coffee mug. “Did you hear? The CEO’s little pet project totally tanked.” “I always knew her whole independent boss-lady act was fake. God knows how long she has been sleeping her way up.” “Well, the new girl got it on pure talent. Mina did not need a sugar daddy.” “Maybe Aria is just getting too old to keep him interested in bed.” I stood frozen by the doorway, my fingernails digging into my palms so hard they almost drew blood. Mina walked over, holding a freshly brewed mug of coffee. “Aria, you are here.” She looked up at me with wide, apologetic eyes. “I feel so terrible about yesterday. You are my senior, and winning against you just feels… wrong.” She held the mug out toward me. “Please let me buy you this coffee as an apology. I still have so much to learn from you.” She held the mug suspended in the air for a full five seconds. I finally reached out to take it. But the exact second my fingertips grazed the ceramic, she let go. Scalding dark roast splashed across my chest and cascaded down to my stomach. I gasped, stumbling backward as the burning pain bit into my skin. Mina froze for a split second, then stared at her own empty hands in horror. “Aria… did you not have a grip on it?” she stammered, her eyes instantly welling up with tears. “I know you are mad at me, but you did not have to drop it on purpose.” Her voice trembled pitifully. “That coffee was literally boiling. It burned my fingers just holding it.” The entire room turned to glare at me. “Mina tried to be nice, and she pulls a stunt like this? Letting it spill all over herself just to make the poor girl look bad?” “Losing a promotion and throwing a tantrum like a toddler. How pathetic.” “What is going on in here?” The crowd parted. Silas walked into the pantry. His eyes swept over Mina’s teary face, then landed on my ruined, coffee-stained silk blouse. His brows pulled together in a harsh frown. “I tried to bring Aria a coffee, and she did not catch it,” Mina sobbed quietly. “It was just an accident.” “I did not—” I started to speak. “Did you burn your hands?” Silas cut me off, looking directly at Mina. Mina glanced down at her pristine white cuff. There was a tiny, singular brown drop on the fabric. “No, just a little splash,” she whispered. Silas finally looked at me. His eyes were like jagged ice. “Clean up your own mess, Aria. Go buy her a new shirt.” 4 I looked down at my own chest. The skin beneath the wet fabric was already turning angry red and blistering. “I—” “Do not cause a scene and disrupt the workflow.” His voice was utterly devoid of emotion. I looked into his eyes and saw nothing. He was looking at me like I was a stranger off the street. I opened my mouth, then closed it. Whatever. It did not matter what I said. He was never going to believe me anyway. I gave a stiff nod, turned on my heel, and walked out without another word. I went down to the designer boutique on the ground floor of our corporate building, pulled a blouse off the rack, and walked to the register. The cashier scanned the tag, then looked up at me with profound concern. “Miss, this is definitely not your size. Do you need me to grab a different one?” she asked gently. “Also, that burn on your chest looks really severe. Do you want me to call a medic first?” I glanced down. A massive, dark brown stain stretched from my collarbone to my stomach, clinging to my skin. The burned area was violently red, and several blisters had already formed. Even a random cashier could see it. But Silas could only see the single drop of coffee on Mina’s sleeve. “I am fine. Thank you.” I tapped my card, grabbed the shopping bag, and took the elevator back up. Standing in the sleek, marble lobby of the company I had bled for, the tears finally fell. No one was coming to save me. The man who used to drive across the city just to bring me soup was dead and gone. I dropped the fresh blouse on Mina’s desk. Silas was leaning over her cubicle. “You got quite a scare today. Take the rest of the day off to recover.” “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.” Silas did not even glance in my direction. “Aria, you will cover her workload for the day.” My face was completely blank. I just gave a slight nod and walked back to my desk. Sitting next to my keyboard was a sealed tube of burn ointment. Underneath it was a yellow sticky note with familiar handwriting: [Make sure you apply this.] I picked it up, stared at it for a second, and dropped it straight into the trash can under my desk. I booted up my computer. A task list popped up on my screen, crammed with Mina’s unfinished grunt work. Every time I hit a key, the blisters on my chest stretched and burned. At exactly six o’clock, I finished the last line of a report. I opened a blank Word document and typed two words in bold at the top: Resignation Letter. Right before clock-out, Mina strolled back into the office, looking radiant. “Aria, about the London contract, I really need to draft the final terms myself. I want to be hands-on with my own accounts.” She tilted her head. “You do not mind, do you?” “Go ahead.” The next morning, the second I stepped off the elevator, the office was in absolute chaos. “The numbers on the London contract are completely screwed up.” “The company just hemorrhaged millions because of that typo.” “Who signed off on it?” Mina was standing outside Silas’s glass office, her eyes puffy and red. “Aria, did you handle this contract yesterday?” Silas’s voice cut through the noise. I walked over and looked at the printed document on the desk. The final payout amount had been altered drastically. “I did not touch those numbers.” “Mina said she handed it over to you for final review yesterday evening.” “She insisted on writing it herself. She gave it to me to check, I corrected a few formatting errors, but I know for a fact the financial figures were correct when it left my desk.” Mina let out a choked sob. “Aria, I know you hate me for taking your promotion, but you really did not have to do this. You can be mad at me, but you cannot mess with the company’s money! You know how much blood and sweat Mr. Blackwood put into building this place!” Silas stepped out of his office. His gaze landed on me like a physical weight. “Did you review the contract?” “Yes. But I verified the numbers. I only fixed the formatting.” 5 “She says you changed the payout.” “And you just blindly believe her? Silas, I have given this company six years of my life. Have I ever made a mistake this pathetic?” The entire floor went dead silent. Silas looked at me, his dark eyes colder than a Seattle winter. “Aria, you are suspended.” He paused, making sure his voice carried down the hallway. “Effective immediately, human resources will freeze your portfolio. Every project you have completed, every piece of revenue you claim to have brought in, is now void.” “Because you have proven that you lack the basic professionalism required for your role.” Lacking professionalism. He took six years of my youth, my loyalty, and my late-night panic attacks, compressed them into two words, and slapped me across the face with them. All those midnight emails. All the new hires I trained. All the moments he sat in boardrooms and nodded at me with pride. None of it mattered anymore. He wiped my existence from the company with a single sentence. “And frankly, you should be grateful you failed the promotion,” he added ruthlessly. “This company does not tolerate emotional sabotage in upper management.” I stared at him, swallowing hard. I tried to force my voice out, but there was a massive lump blocking my throat. I could not make a sound. The whispers started again, crawling out from the cubicles like roaches. “Who does she think she is? Editing contracts because she throws a fit?” “She really thought the CEO would cover for her just because they were hooking up.” “Let me make something abundantly clear,” Silas announced to the floor. “Aria and I have absolutely no personal relationship.” He turned back to the staff. “The office rumors end today.” Silence fell over the room. Silas grabbed Mina by the wrist and pulled her toward the elevator. She leaned into his side, looking like a frightened bird. “Do not stress over this. I will handle the fallout,” he told her softly. “Do not let this ruin your mood for London.” I watched his broad shoulders disappear into the elevator. He felt so incredibly far away. Like I had never known him at all. That evening, I packed up my desk. As I walked out of the glass doors holding a cardboard box, I saw Mina’s latest social media post. It was a picture of a VIP airport lounge. Silas’s back was visible in the distance. [Taking off for London with the boss! The future is bright!] A second later, a text from Silas popped up on my screen. [I am heading to London. I will be back next Wednesday. We need to have a serious talk when I return.] I stared at the message. Talk about what? The 58 he gave me? The million-dollar diamond around his intern’s neck? The fact that he publicly humiliated me and erased my career in front of a hundred people? I went to his contact profile, hit “Block,” and deleted the chat history. The night wind whipped through my hair as I carried my box down into the subway station. By the time he landed back in Seattle, Aria would no longer exist in his world. It was past midnight when I got back to the apartment. I dropped the box in the hallway, walked into the bedroom, and ripped open the closet doors. I shoved my clothes into two large suitcases. I emptied the bathroom drawers. I tossed out half-used lipsticks, old notebooks, and tangled chargers. When I reached the very back of my nightstand, my fingers brushed against a small wooden box. I opened it. Inside was a stack of polaroids. Springtime, six years ago. Our very first date. He was standing under a blooming cherry tree. I had pointed the camera at him, and he had looked down at me, a genuine, unguarded smile on his face. The next photo was our two-year anniversary. He booked a ridiculously expensive steakhouse. I told him we should split it. He smiled and said, “Not tonight.” The next was my birthday, year three. He gave me a woolen scarf. The price tag, still tucked inside, said $25.

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Mother died of cancer. Father fell into a deep depression and followed her soon after. Alone in the funeral parlor surrounded by white flowers, I called my husband, desperate to hear his voice. Instead, his words cut through the receiver like ice. “Is depression genetic in your family? If you are sick, go see a shrink. Do not drag other people down with you like your parents did.” In the background, I heard his secretary, Beth, whine softly. “Mr. Sterling… my stomach hurts.” His tone shifted instantly, growing impatient with me. “We have been in meetings all night. I have not even had time to eat. I do not have time to listen to you cry. Unless someone is dying, do not call me again.” He hung up. I swallowed my grief, finalizing the funeral arrangements alone. Exhausted and having eaten nothing in three days, I collapsed in the hall. Waking in the ER, my phone lit up with a notification from Beth’s livestream. On the screen, a man’s hands wearing a platinum band identical to mine handed her a perfectly baked soufflé. Beth covered her mouth, eyes wide with feigned delight. “Wow! I casually mentioned I could not stomach my medicine without a dessert, and you actually baked this from scratch?” I looked at my own ring finger. My heart began to throb with a sharp, rhythmic pain. He was not too busy. He just did not love me anymore. 1 Realizing that his wedding band was visible to thousands of viewers, Karl quickly pulled his hand back. When his hand reappeared in the frame, the ring was gone. Only a pale indentation remained on his skin. This blatant attempt to hide his marriage pleased Beth immensely. Her coy giggles prompted Karl to reach out and pinch her cheek. His voice was dripping with affection. “Stop laughing like a fool. Did you not say you wanted this? Tell me how it tastes.” “I failed over a hundred times at the bakery before I finally got this one right. If it is good, you have to be a good girl and drink your stomach medicine.” Beth’s face flushed red. She took a small bite of the souffle, chewing slowly. Karl stared at her, his eyes full of eager anticipation. He looked like a completely different person from the man who had just told me he was too busy to eat and too busy to listen to my grief. “Mr. Sterling, this is absolutely incredible!” Beth practically purred. “Whoever gets to be your wife will be the luckiest woman alive!” Lucky? We had been together for five years and married for three. Karl had never cooked a single meal for me. He always said he was busy. He said he was busy building an empire so I could be the envy of every woman in the city. He said his time was too valuable to waste on menial domestic tasks. But now, just to coax his secretary into taking her antacids, he had spent hours in a bakery learning how to make a souffle. He had the time to fail a hundred times over a dessert, but he did not have the time to attend my parents’ funeral. He could not even spare a single word of comfort. Karl reached out and naturally wiped a smudge of powdered sugar off Beth’s lip with his thumb. The live chat exploded. [Do not use your hands! Use your mouth! Kiss her!] Beth smiled wickedly and took another messy bite, intentionally getting more sugar on her lips. The chat went wild. [Here is your second chance! Do not mess it up this time!] The camera suddenly jerked, and the livestream abruptly ended. But that quick camera movement was enough for me to recognize the background. Beth was admitted to the exact same hospital as me. Driven by a morbid curiosity, I dragged my exhausted body down the hall to her VIP suite. Through the glass window on the door, I saw Karl rubbing a smudge of red lipstick off his mouth. His face was slightly flushed. “Beth, that was the last time.” “I have to go check on Sienna in a bit. I heard she fainted at the funeral.” The moment he mentioned my name, all the gentleness vanished from his voice, replaced by heavy exhaustion. Beth’s smile froze. She immediately pushed the dessert tray away. “Then you should hurry up and go be with your wife. Why are you wasting time baking for me?” He twisted the wedding ring he had put back on his finger and let out a long sigh. “There is no rush. I will go see her after you drink your medicine and your stomach stops hurting.” My eyes fell on the small plastic cup of medicine on her nightstand. I had taken that exact same gastric coating liquid before. It was barely a mouthful, and it did not even taste bitter. But Beth held the cup for a long time, her pretty face scrunching up in dramatic disgust. Karl, a man completely devoid of patience, coaxed her softly. “Just drink it like a good girl, and I will stay with you for another hour.” Beth finally smiled and brought the cup to her lips. My heart twisted like a wet rag. I turned to walk away, but my legs gave out. I collapsed backward, desperately grabbing the metal door handle on my way down to break my fall. The door swung open with a loud crash. Startled by the noise, Beth choked on her medicine, coughing until her face turned bright red. Karl spent a good minute patting her back before he finally turned to look at the doorway. “Sienna?” I was sprawled on the cold linoleum floor, completely drained of strength, black spots dancing in my vision. But I could still see the absolute icy contempt in Karl’s eyes. “What exactly are you doing?” he demanded. “Throwing a pity party to get sympathy? Or are you just trying to scare Beth?” “I did not…” I whispered weakly. He ignored me and yelled down the hall for a nurse. “Get her out of here. Do not let her disturb the other patients.” The approaching nurse assumed we were strangers. She hurriedly apologized to him. “Sir, I am so sorry she disturbed you and your wife. I will take her back to her room right now.” Karl did not correct her assumption. As the nurse helped me out of the room, she pulled out my phone to call my emergency contact. “Hello? Where are you? Your wife just collapsed again in the hallway…” Karl’s voice boomed through the receiver. “Sienna! Are you ever going to stop this nonsense?” Hearing the exact same angry voice coming from the phone and the room behind her, the nurse froze in absolute shock. “That guy in there… is your husband?” I forced a weak smile. “Not for much longer.” The nurse saw the utter desolation in my eyes. She hung up the phone and silently helped me back to the IV room. I was physically exhausted, but sleep refused to come. Instead, I pulled out my phone and texted my lawyer. [Draft a divorce agreement.] I did not fall into a heavy sleep until the PDF arrived and I digitally signed it. I slept so deeply that I did not realize the IV needle had slipped out of my vein. The fluid had pooled under my skin, forming a painful lump the size of a golf ball on the back of my hand. I woke up to a sharp, throbbing pain just as Karl pushed the door open. He glanced at my swollen hand. Not a flicker of concern crossed his face. “Did you time this perfectly just for my arrival?” “It is just a little saline drip, Sienna. Your desperate attempts to play the victim are getting ridiculous.” He did not call a nurse. He did not ask if it hurt. He simply reached over and aggressively yanked the needle out of my flesh. The sudden violence of his movement caused a spray of blood droplets to shoot from the puncture wound. A few drops landed on his crisp white dress shirt. Karl, a notorious germaphobe, scowled deeply. “Sienna! Have you had enough of this tantrum?” I stared blankly at the blood still welling up from my hand. It felt like I was watching my own heart bleed out. “What tantrum, Karl?” He told me he was too busy with meetings to comfort me, so I handled my parents’ funeral entirely on my own. He took off his wedding ring to flirt with his secretary, and I did not expose him. He told me not to disturb Beth’s rest, so I obediently walked away with the nurse. He forcefully ripped a needle out of my vein, and I did not utter a single cry of pain. What exactly did he want from me? “You have the nerve to ask me that? I told you not to call unless it was an absolute emergency, and you had your relatives blow up my phone a dozen times!” “Why can you not be understanding like Beth? Why do you constantly force me to deal with your petty, meaningless drama?” My chest tightened again. So, his secretary throwing a fit over stomach medicine required him to bake a souffle and coax her like a child. That was called being “understanding.” But me, silently burying my parents and bearing the weight of the world alone, was considered “meaningless drama.” I pulled the printed divorce agreement from the bedside table and handed it to him. “Sign it. You will never have to deal with my drama again.” A flash of shock crossed his irritated eyes, quickly replaced by intense disgust. “Sienna! First the pity play, now you are threatening me with a divorce? Are you just going down a checklist of manipulation tactics?” “I am out there breaking my back every single day to give you a perfect life. Endless meetings, endless client dinners, endless proposals. And what do you do?” “You stay at home. You water the flowers. You bask in the sun and play the elegant Mrs. Sterling. What exactly are you so dissatisfied with?” I watched his lips move, feeling like I had been plunged into an ice bath. “Karl, just because I do not commute to the corporate office does not mean I sit around doing nothing. Every single flagship product design your company launched this year was drafted and finalized by me.” “It has been five years. Did I ask to stay home? You begged me to work remotely so I could curate your precious exotic greenhouse. You needed me here to bathe and feed your stroke-survivor mother. You needed me to watch your Alzheimer’s-stricken father so he would not wander into traffic!” “Does everything I sacrificed for this family mean absolutely nothing to you?” He grabbed a tissue and tossed it onto my lap. “Enough. There is no point in talking to you. You refuse to understand my pressure, and I refuse to validate your delusions. You always play the victim. You only ever complain instead of actually solving the problem.” “If you want to enjoy the status and luxury of being my wife, you need to prove you deserve to stand beside me.” “Do you really think your current behavior makes you worthy?” He was not asking a question. He had already decided I was guilty. I smiled bitterly and wiped a stray tear from my cheek. “You are right. I am not worthy. Please, just sign the papers.” He snatched the divorce agreement, flipped through the first two pages, and tossed it straight into the garbage can. “Do not throw the word divorce around lightly. Because the second I actually take you seriously, there will be no turning back.” “I am not going to let the media say I abandoned my wife the moment her parents died.” “While you were busy with the funeral, Beth hired a private nurse to look after my parents. She even went to our house to tend to your greenhouse. I was checking in on her out of gratitude. Stop letting your paranoia run wild.” “I brought a gift. Once you fix your attitude, you are going to go over to her room and properly thank her.” So, taking care of his parents and my plants was framed as a favor to me. How utterly laughable. Before I could refuse, he pulled a velvet box from his pocket and popped it open. The contents instantly pierced my eyes. Inside was the finished product of the third-anniversary diamond ring I had designed myself. It was supposed to be a matching set, but when my mother got sick, I only had time to forge the women’s band. “Do you still want me to make the men’s band?” I asked, suppressing the bitter taste of bile in my mouth. He pulled his current wedding ring off and showed me the red indentation on his finger. “Yes. This one is getting a little tight. I need the new one.” He said it so casually, completely oblivious to the sacred meaning behind a custom set of vows in metal. “Fine. Sign the divorce papers, and I will make it.” Karl scowled, but a smug smirk touched the corner of his lips. “Sienna, stop throwing a tantrum. I promised your parents I would take care of you for the rest of your life. As long as you finish my ring, I will clear my schedule and attend your parents’ memorial service next week.” I stared at the man I had loved for eight years. For the first time, he looked like a terrifying stranger. “Fine.” I would make the ring. But I did not need his care anymore. He looked at my compromise with a knowing, victorious expression. “If you wanted me to attend the memorial, you should have just asked nicely. Why did you have to put on this massive theatrical performance? You are so exhausting.” “Do you not know that the squeaky wheel gets the grease?” I actually laughed out loud. So, getting a son-in-law to attend the final rites of his wife’s parents required me to get on my knees and beg for his charity. But I had begged him. And what did he do? “I called you. What did you say to me?” Karl rubbed his temples, completely losing his patience. “I am busy. I am exhausted. Why can you not just be mature? Look at Beth…” Since the moment he walked into my hospital room, he had not offered a single word of comfort. His entire objective was to force me to hand over the women’s ring—the ring I designed for myself—to Beth, and then guilt me into finishing his matching band. My parents’ death was nothing but a bargaining chip to him. Suddenly, a massive commotion erupted in the hallway outside. Someone was screaming about jumping out of a window. “Do not stop me! Mr. Sterling and I are completely innocent, but his wife is texting me, calling me a homewrecker! I cannot live with this humiliation!” Hearing Beth’s hysterical cries, Karl’s face drained of color. He shot me a death glare and sprinted out of the room. I had no interest in watching their soap opera. I walked out to the nurses’ station to get a bandage for my bleeding hand. The young nurse carefully cleaned the dried blood, whispering furiously. “Ma’am, your husband’s secretary is a piece of work! The second she saw him walk into your room, she started this whole suicide act!” “You cannot divorce him. Do not let that manipulative snake win!” I thanked the nurse for her kindness and turned back to my room. But the moment I sat on the edge of the bed, Karl stormed in, his face twisted in absolute fury. He grabbed my arm and violently yanked me to my feet. “Get up. You are going to apologize to Beth right now.” “And I am warning you, if you send her one more disgusting, abusive text, I will let her press charges against you for harassment.” “And do not expect me to protect you. And definitely do not expect me to show up at your parents’ memorial!” That was when I realized Beth had received anonymous hate texts after I left, calling her a mistress. “I did not send those texts…” “Shut up! You are still lying!” “Do not think I do not know you faked fainting just to spy on Beth and me! I was willing to let it slide, but this crosses the line!” Seeing my desolate expression, his tone softened slightly, though it remained frozen in authority. “Enough. Just go apologize to her, and I will take your side and protect you from the fallout. After all, you just lost your parents, and you probably inherited their mental instability…” I stood absolutely still. Suddenly, I lost all desire to defend myself. Blindly accusing me of a crime without a shred of evidence—that was what Karl called “taking my side.” And he finally acknowledged the pain of losing my parents, but only to use it as an excuse to force me into soothing Beth’s ego. I did not know how he dragged me down the hall to her room. All I knew was the sudden, sharp pain in my knees. When I blinked, I realized I was kneeling on the floor beside Beth’s hospital bed. Karl shoved the velvet ring box into my hands, his voice a harsh command. “Did you not say you were going to thank her? Do it.” I let out a hollow, broken laugh. I opened the velvet box and held it up toward Beth. “I wish you both a lifetime of happiness.” Before Karl could process his shock, I pushed myself off the floor and bolted for the door. Karl stuck his foot out and tripped me. I crashed hard into the doorframe. “Sienna!” he roared. “Is that your idea of an apology? Get back here and do it right!” Beth quickly grabbed his arm, tears streaming down her perfectly applied makeup. “Mr. Sterling, please do not be mad! She is just grieving. I do not blame her… as long as she stops calling me a homewrecker…” Her brilliant display of fake grace and kindness moved Karl deeply. “Do not worry. If she ever insults you again, I will make her regret it for the rest of her life.” Right as he said that, a group of loud, aggressive people stormed into the hospital room. They claimed to be my relatives. They started hurling raw eggs and wilted lettuce at Beth. “You cheap homewrecker! You really know how to sink your claws into a man! You completely brainwashed Mr. Sterling!” Karl quickly shielded Beth with his own body. Egg yolks and trash splattered across his expensive suit and face. Beth pushed weakly against his chest. “Mr. Sterling, get out of the way! They are here for me!” Karl held her tighter, shouting at the crowd. “I will say this one last time! Beth is not a homewrecker!” “Sienna, call off your insane family right now! Or I swear to God I am calling the police!” I looked at the screaming mob. I had never seen any of these people in my life. Tears of hysterical laughter pricked my eyes. “They are not my relatives. I do not know them!” The mob instantly turned toward me, their voices dripping with fake sympathy. “Oh, Sienna, do not be scared! We are here for you! We will not let anyone bully you!” Then they turned their wrath back on Karl. “Mr. Sterling, out of respect for Sienna, we will not hurt you. But you need to step aside and let us teach this trash a lesson! If she had not seduced you, you would have been at the funeral to send off Sienna’s parents! She reeks of cheap perfume. Can you not smell it?” One of the women pulled out a phone and started recording Beth’s egg-covered face. “A slut like you deserves to die!” “But before you do, the whole internet is going to see exactly what you are!” Karl, realizing this mob was utterly unhinged, immediately pulled out his phone and dialed 911. Beth snatched the phone out of his hand, weeping violently. “Mr. Sterling, no! Just let it go! It is all my fault. Do not ruin your marriage over me…” But Karl snatched the phone back and hit send. Beth’s face paled dramatically. She looked at the mob, her voice trembling. “You guys need to get Sienna out of here right now! If Mr. Sterling gets the cops involved, you will all go to jail!” The “relatives” who had just sworn to defend my honor instantly grabbed me by the arms and dragged me toward the exit. Realizing something was horribly wrong, I thrashed wildly, screaming at Karl. “I really do not know them! Help me!” Karl just sneered in disgust. “Your shamelessness truly knows no bounds.” A sweaty hand clamped hard over my mouth. I was dragged into the service elevator. Within seconds, a sickeningly sweet chemical smell filled my nose, and my vision faded to black. Total despair washed over me. Was I really going to be kidnapped in broad daylight while my husband watched? When I finally woke up and saw my surroundings, my blood ran cold.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “582301”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 My husband had a face carved by angels, drawing eyes everywhere he went. The first time it happened was on the subway. A cute girl with big, dewy eyes asked for his number. He didn’t even look up. The second time was at the beach. A stunning woman in a bikini approached him. He turned on his heel and walked away. The third time, the fourth time… every attempt was met with cold, unyielding rejection. I couldn’t help complaining to my best friend that he was a total stiff, though deep down, my heart was practically singing. Hazel just snorted. “He’s acting. No man turns down free food. Don’t believe me? Try texting him from an alt account.” For three whole days, my friend request sat there unanswered. Just as I was secretly gloating, the request was accepted. I typed out a message: “Hey handsome, I really like you.” He replied with a single sentence: “Stay away. I’m married.” I burst out laughing, screenshotted the reply, and sent it to Hazel, telling her she owed me my autumn iced boba tea. The very next second, he sent a photo. Along with a caption: “See this? This is my wife. Beautiful, right? Stop harassing me, she’ll get upset if she sees this.” The smile froze on my lips. In the photo, the woman snuggled intimately against his shoulder was painfully familiar. It was my best friend, Hazel. A wave of nausea hit me as I realized I had spent the last eight years living as an absolute fool. The dream was over. It was time to wake up. … Ralph finished ordering food. Seeing me staring blankly at my phone, he reached out with a warm smile to pat my head. “What’s wrong, babe? Starving to death?” I subtly leaned back, dodging his hand. My chest felt hollow and heavy. His hand froze in mid-air, a frown tugging at his brows as he opened his mouth to ask what was wrong. Right on cue, Hazel burst through the restaurant doors. She dropped into the seat beside me, holding two iced boba drinks, and pushed one toward me. It was my favorite Mango Sago. “Here, your autumn boba tea. A bet’s a bet.” Ralph shot her a contemptuous look. “Just one drink? How cheap can you get? What did you even bet my girl?” Hazel rolled her eyes. “Mind your own business! If you’re so generous, why don’t you pay for this hot pot?” Usually, whenever they started bickering like this, I would laugh and play mediator. This time, I stayed dead silent. I poked the straw through the seal and took a deep gulp. It tasted bitter, without a single trace of sweetness. The two of them exchanged a strange look, sensing something off, though neither could put a finger on it. Hazel took a sip of her Peach Oolong tea, wrinkled her nose, and pushed it aside in disgust. “Gross. Tastes terrible.” Ralph gave her a look of utter disdain. “If it’s terrible, why push it over here? Who wants your spit?” Hazel nearly rolled her eyes to the back of her head. “I was asking you to throw it in the trash, your majesty!” Ralph grumbled under his breath about her bossing him around, but his hand reached out anyway. He grabbed the cup, put his lips directly over the straw she had just used, and took a long sip. Then, he frowned. “Yeah, it really is gross.” My eyes locked onto that straw. The red lipstick smudge was wet with saliva, smeared heavily around the tip. A sharp, stinging pain throbbed in my chest. When we first started dating, Ralph told me he was a severe germaphobe. Even during the peak of our honeymoon phase, he never ate off my plate or drank from my glass. When we kissed, he would carefully wipe the lipstick off my lips with a wet tissue first, keeping the touch brief and gentle. Yet just now, he didn’t mind Hazel’s saliva at all. The server brought out the dishes. Ralph kept scooping cooked meat into my bowl until it piled up like a small mountain. Hazel moved fast, reaching her chopsticks across the table to grab the last piece of shrimp paste. Her grip slipped. The shrimp paste plummeted back into the pot, sending a wave of scalding hot broth splashing across the table. I flinched, squeezing my eyes shut as intense burning heat seared the skin of my forearm. When I opened my eyes, Ralph was half-standing. He had grabbed Hazel’s wrist, pulling her firmly behind his body to shield her. “Do you have a brain?” he roared at her, his voice laced with explosive anger and raw, unfiltered worry. “How many times have I told you to use the slotted spoon?” Hazel felt guilty, but her pride kept her from backing down. She shoved his hand away. “Why are you screaming at me? It didn’t even splash on you! Stop acting so delicate!” “I was afraid it would splash on my girl!” Hearing those words, I pulled a napkin from the dispenser and quietly wiped the spicy oil off my skin. My hand trembled slightly, knocking my chopsticks off the table. I bent down to pick them up. Underneath the tablecloth, I saw Ralph’s leg pressed tightly against Hazel’s calf. Hazel had slipped off her high heels. Her bare ankle was wrapped around his leg like a creeping vine. Above the table, they were still arguing, neither willing to yield an inch. “Can you stop kicking the table? You knocked my girl’s chopsticks onto the floor!” “Which eye saw me kick it? Your hands were shaking, stop blaming me for everything!” I straightened my back and slammed the dirty chopsticks onto the wooden table with a heavy thud. “I’ll get a fresh pair.” Turning on my heel, I walked toward the service counter. The moment I turned the corner into the hallway, my knees buckled, and I slumped heavily against the wall. Memories from the past eight years flashed through my mind like a horror movie. All those fierce, constant arguments between them. All the hidden glances and secret touches buried in the dark. I finally understood it all. I just didn’t know how far they had actually gone. Pulling myself together, I walked back to the table, pretending nothing had happened. After paying the bill, Ralph stepped outside to answer a phone call. When he returned, he told me he had to go back to the office for urgent overtime. “Babe, I called a cab for you. Text me the moment you get home, okay?” He pressed a gentle kiss onto my forehead. Hazel waved her hand dramatically. “Alright, alright, spare me the public display of affection.” She shot Ralph a quick look. “Actually, drop me off at the shopping mall on your way.” Ralph acted annoyed, but he still opened the passenger door for her. The two cars pulled out one after the other. As my cab approached the main intersection, I spoke up quietly to the driver. “Follow that Mercedes.” The driver’s eyes lit up with instant curiosity. Sure enough, the Mercedes didn’t head toward the mall, nor did it head toward his office building. Instead, it drove straight into a residential neighborhood I knew all too well. It pulled into the parking lot right beneath Hazel’s building. I sat in the back of the cab, rolling down the window. A few minutes later, the lights on the eighth floor flickered on. The living room curtains weren’t drawn. Two silhouettes were wrapped around each other, tangled in a passionate, desperate embrace. I pushed the car door open and walked upstairs. Standing outside Hazel’s apartment, I pushed lightly against the door. It wasn’t even locked. The air inside was thick with heavy, suffocating intimacy. I reached out and flipped the main light switch in the living room. A sharp scream cut through the apartment. Ralph bolted off the sofa, his eyes wildly searching the entryway. The moment his eyes met mine, his flushed face turned deadly pale. “Babe… what are you doing here?” Hazel frantically pushed Ralph away, scrambling to straighten her clothes. I walked over to a dining chair opposite the couch and sat down calmly. My gaze drifted between the two of them, finally settling on Hazel. “When did it start?” Hazel raised her hands, stammering frantically. “Sierra, it’s not what you think. We were just…” “When did it start!” I cut her off, my voice sharp as a blade. Ralph took a step toward me. “Babe, let me explain.” “I am asking her!” My eyes locked onto Hazel with cold fury. Hazel’s eyes welled with tears. After a agonizing pause, she whispered, “Three… three years ago.” Three years ago? That was right after Ralph and I got married. Hazel had gone through a horrific breakup back then, crying herself to sleep every single night. I took her out for fresh air, took her shopping, took her on vacations. I bought her designer clothes, bags, and makeup. Ralph had even pretended to be jealous back then, complaining that I spent more time comforting my best friend than being with my new husband. It turned out they were already sleeping together back then. “Hazel, how could you do this to me?” I asked quietly. She slid off the couch, crawling toward me on her knees to grab my hand. I pulled away instantly. “Sierra, I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry! I didn’t want to ruin your marriage. I was just… I was in so much pain.” I looked at her with pure ice in my eyes. “You were in pain, so you decided to destroy my life?” Hazel knelt on the floor, weeping hysterically. Ralph couldn’t watch it anymore. “Enough, Sierra! Stop it! Hazel has severe clinical depression! She tried to kill herself multiple times! Stop backing her into a corner!” I shifted my eyes to him. “I’m backing her into a corner? You two are pushing me into an abyss!” I pulled out my phone, unlocked it, and pulled up the chat screen. “Ralph, she has depression. What’s your excuse? Why did you send this photo from your alt account calling her your wife? What did you mean by that?” His pupils dilated instantly. He snatched the phone from my hand, scanning the screen over and over. “This… this account was you?! You used a fake account to test me?! You don’t trust me at all?” “Trust?” I let out a bitter laugh, pointing at his disheveled shirt and messy hair. “This is what my trust got me.” Choking on his words, he stood there speechless for a long moment before raspy words escaped his throat. “Babe, what’s between Hazel and me isn’t what you think. Give me some time. Once her mental health improves, I’ll cut all ties with her. I swear!” He raised his right hand. “The only person I have ever loved is you.” I never knew vows could sound so utterly revolting. “Ralph, let’s get a divorce.” Saying those words out loud still made my heart ache with a fierce, tearing pain. Ralph lunged forward, wrapping his arms around me with crushing force. “No! I don’t agree! You’re angry right now, you’re not thinking clearly. Let’s sit down and talk this through, please!” I shook my head, using every ounce of strength left in my body to push him away. “I have never been clearer in my entire life. Think it over. Don’t make me wait too long.” Without giving Hazel a single glance, I walked out the door. I walked endlessly down the street until the streetlights grew sparse and the night grew pitch black. Only then did I allow my tears to fall. Ripping out eight years of deep love from your heart was never going to be easy. Suddenly, crude voices echoed from behind me. “Hey sweetheart, why is a pretty girl walking alone crying in the middle of the night?” I turned around. Three men stepped out from the shadows of an alleyway. Cigarettes dangled from their lips, smelling of cheap liquor and stale smoke. I looked around. There wasn’t a street sign or a soul in sight. Panic surged in my chest. One of the men stepped close, his greasy eyes scanning my body greedily. “Got dumped? Why don’t you let us take real good care of you?” A rough, calloused hand reached out to grab my shoulder. I lifted my leg with all my strength, kicking hard into his groin. He let out a muffled curse and swung his palm flat against the side of my face. A loud crack echoed, and my ears began ringing violently. Everything went white. In the middle of the chaos, a familiar figure charged out of the dark. Ralph ripped the man off me, throwing a heavy fist straight into his face. He knocked the other two to the ground in a frantic brawl. Realizing they were outmatched, the three men cursed loudly and scrambled away into the night. “You’re safe now, babe! I’m here, don’t be scared!” He wrapped his heavy jacket tightly around my trembling shoulders. I lifted my head, looking at the familiar face in front of me. The heart that had just died felt a tiny spark of life trying to ignite again. “Take me home,” I whispered. “Okay!” He held me tight, resting his chin on top of my head. Suddenly, his phone buzzed loudly in his pocket. The name “Hazel” flashed across the screen. He hesitated for a brief second before hitting answer. “Ralph… where are you? It hurts so much… I can’t remember how many pills I took…” When he hung up, a deeply conflicted expression covered his face. I pulled myself out of his arms, feeling the last ember in my heart freeze into solid ice. “Babe, I called emergency services, the police will be here soon. Hazel’s having a crisis, I need to…” “Just go,” I interrupted him, handing his jacket back. A few minutes later, his rushed footsteps faded into the distance. I pulled out my phone and typed a message to my senior manager, Gwen. “I accept the overseas transfer to the London office. As soon as possible.” Gwen called me back instantly. “Sierra, didn’t you tell me last week that you and Ralph were trying for a baby? Why the sudden transfer?” My heart was filled with bitter sorrow, unable to explain the mess. “Not anymore. We’re getting a divorce. I only have one condition, I’m bringing my mother with me.” Silence blanketed the line for a moment before Gwen spoke again. “If you’ve made up your mind, the company fully supports you. You can fly out tomorrow!” After hanging up, the police arrived. After taking my statement, they safely escorted me back home. The moment the front door locked behind me, I collapsed onto the couch. The apartment was cold and quiet. My chest felt utterly hollow. I picked up my phone to check the time, but my fingers compulsively opened my alt account to check Ralph’s social media feed. The moment I opened it, my throat felt constricted, making it hard to breathe. The feed I usually saw on my main account was boring and work-focused. Aside from a few company updates, there was never a single trace of me. Whenever I playfully asked him to post photos of us, he always said he disliked exposing his private life to the public. He said he didn’t want other men lusting over his beautiful wife. Back then, I thought it was sweet. Now, looking through the alt account, I saw a completely different reality. Every single post was filled with photo grids, packed with intimate photos of him and Hazel. One post stood out sharply. It was dated May 20th of this year, our third wedding anniversary. I had booked a high-end restaurant a week in advance. That morning, I texted him: “Leave work early tonight, I’ll be waiting for you at the restaurant.” He replied: “Sure thing, babe.” Followed by a string of kissing emojis. I sat at the restaurant table as the server poured cup after cup of water, but he never showed up. At ten that night, he sent a text: “The new product launch is hitting a glitch, everyone has to stay late at the office. Don’t wait up for me, babe!” I ordered a single dinner set, brought home his favorite spicy poached fish, and waited. When he arrived home past midnight, his exhausted eyes lit up seeing the fish on the dining table. “Thank you, babe!” Yet on that exact same night, his alt feed showed two movie tickets. It was for a romantic film I had been dying to see for months. And the tickets were for love seats. My fingers trembled as I scrolled down. Valentine’s Day, my birthday, his birthday… Every single milestone was spent with Hazel. I closed the app and closed my eyes. The apartment was silent, save for the ticking of the clock. I didn’t want to know how many more lies were buried beneath the surface. This marriage was beyond saving. I picked up my phone again and sent a text to Attorney Ross. “Please draft a divorce agreement for me.” Sent. I began packing my things. Three years of marriage, eight years of love, couldn’t even fill a single twenty-eight-inch suitcase. When I woke up the next morning, I reached out out of habit to touch the other side of the bed. It was cold and empty. Ralph hadn’t come home all night. I wheeled my suitcase to the entryway to change my shoes. The front door swung open. Ralph stepped inside, holding a paper bag containing fresh soy milk and pan-fried beef buns. They were from my favorite breakfast spot, the one that always had a line wrapped around the block. He froze seeing my suitcase. “You’re leaving for a business trip this early? Why didn’t you tell me? I could have driven you.” I ignored him, pulling my sneakers on. He rushed forward, pulling me into a tight, apologetic hug. “Babe, don’t be mad anymore. Eat breakfast first, or your stomach is going to hurt again.” He held out the bag. I didn’t reach for it. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air as he explained helplessly, “Hazel took too many pills last night. I had to rush her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped. Once she gets better, I promise…” “I’m leaving,” I cut him off, unwilling to hear another word. I stepped out the door and pressed the elevator call button. He chased after me. “Babe, don’t make an impulsive decision! I’ll wait for you to come back!” The elevator doors slid shut. I let out a cold laugh in the privacy of the metal box. No. I was never coming back. The transfer paperwork went smoothly. After saying goodbye to my colleagues, I walked out of the office building and headed straight to my mother’s apartment complex. Just as my mother and I stepped out of her building, a crowd of angry people suddenly rushed out from the shadows, surrounding us tightly. My mother stumbled back in fear, nearly falling over. I quickly held her steady and shouted, “What are you doing? Move out of the way!” A girl wearing glasses shoved her phone right into my face, her voice dripping with righteous fury. “Everyone look! This is the disgusting mistress who stole her best friend’s husband!” She grew more animated, pointing the camera straight at my mother’s face. “And this is her mother! Anyone who raises such a shameless daughter must have been a homewrecker herself!” Fury exploded in my chest. I reached out and slapped the phone out of her hand, sending it crashing onto the pavement. She froze for a second before lunging forward, shoving me violently. “You dare lay a hand on me? You stole someone’s husband and pushed the real wife into the ER, how do you even have the nerve to be alive?” I was completely bewildered. “I am not a mistress! You have the wrong person!” “Not a mistress?” Another woman shoved a phone screen against my eyes. “Open your eyes and look closely!” I caught a glimpse of a viral online post. The headline read: [VIRAL DRAMA! Taxi driver witnesses cheating confrontation! This mistress is out of her mind!] The post, written from the driver’s perspective, detailed how he drove the “original wife” to catch the husband in the act. It claimed the mistress was so arrogant that she humiliated the wife, pushing her into severe shock and landing her in the ER. Attached were two photos. The first showed three people arguing heatedly. The second showed a woman being wheeled into the emergency room while a man hovered beside her anxiously. In the photos, Hazel’s and Ralph’s faces were heavily blurred. My face, however, was in crystal-clear focus. “You have the wrong person!” I yelled at the crowd, holding up my ID. “I am the wife in that post! I have a marriage certificate to prove it!” “Still lying?” A heavy-set woman barked. “Why would the mistress be blurred while the wife’s face is shown? Who knows if your marriage certificate is fake?” I tried to explain, but my voice was completely drowned out by the roaring mob. Suddenly, a plastic water bottle flew through the air, striking me hard across the forehead. I touched my forehead. My hand came away covered in warm blood. My mother threw her body over mine, crying out desperately, “Stop hitting her! Please! My daughter is innocent! You have the wrong person!” The crowd ignored her cries, pushing closer and closer. Suddenly, my mother clutched her chest, gasping violently for air. “Mom! Mom, what’s wrong?!” Finally, building security guards forced their way through the crowd. “Disperse! Clear out!” I grabbed a guard’s arm like a lifeline, sobbing hysterically. “Call an ambulance! Quick! My mother has a heart condition!” By the time Ralph arrived outside the resuscitation room, I was still sitting on the cold floor in shock. “Babe! I thought you went on a business trip? How did this happen? Who hurt you?” I lifted my head, looking at him through a blur of tears. “It was that online post! A mob attacked us! My mother is inside being resuscitated right now! Hazel was the one who posted it!” Ralph frowned, his grip on my hand slowly loosening. “Hazel couldn’t have posted it. She’s been in the hospital since last night.” “So what?” My eyes widened in disbelief. “You believe her over me? You think I made it up?” He didn’t answer, but his silence said everything. I wiped my tears and turned my back on him. “Get out. I don’t need you here.” He stayed crouched beside me, his voice carrying a desperate plea. “Sierra, things have spiraled out of control. The priority right now is to calm the internet storm down!” “How?” I asked coldly. “Go apologize to Hazel.” “What did you just say?!” I couldn’t believe my ears. His face flushed with impatience. “Just apologize publicly and clarify that the post is fake! Once the netizens lose interest, they’ll disperse. It’s for your own good, and for your mother’s good!” I let out a bitter laugh. “You’re doing this for Hazel!” Exposed, Ralph snapped. “Sierra, I’m doing this for you! If this scandal keeps growing, do you think your mother can handle it? She’s still in critical condition!” My head slowly dropped. He was right about one thing. My mother was hanging by a thread. She couldn’t take any more shock. Like a hollow shell stripped of its soul, I let Ralph lead me to Hazel’s hospital room. Ignoring the whispers from onlookers, I bowed my head toward the bed. “I am sorry. My handling of the situation caused you harm.” Hazel’s eyes turned red, and she reached out to grab my hand. I took a step back, looking at the man beside me. “Are you satisfied now?” He nodded. I turned and walked away. The moment I reached the emergency doors, a nurse ran out, her voice frantic. “Where were you? The patient went into sudden cardiac arrest! We spent forty minutes on CPR, but she just passed away.” My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the floor, crawling desperately toward my mother’s body. “Mom! Don’t leave me alone! Please, I’m begging you!” I screamed until my voice blew out, but no response ever came. There was nothing left in this city for me. Two hours later, holding the urn containing my mother’s ashes, I boarded a flight to London. Before boarding, my phone chimed with a notification. [Dear customer, your delivered package containing the divorce agreement has been signed.] I blocked both of their numbers and walked through the terminal gate without looking back once. When the plane touched down, my screen lit up with ninety-nine missed calls.

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After successfully redeeming the villainous male lead, I dutifully stepped aside for the original heroine as promised. I took a new identity and left, but in less than twenty-four hours, he saw right through me. The System waved its hand dismissively: “Don’t panic. If he figures it out, I’ll just forge another identity for you.” So, over the following year, I was forced to roleplay as a personal chef, a maid, a circus monkey, a barber, a baker, and a spicy noodle vendor. Yet every single time, he recognized me in a split second, dragged me back to his mansion, and threw me into a whirlwind of relentless passion. The last time, Dante kissed my fingers, his voice raspy: “Done playing cosplay? Tomorrow, we’re getting our marriage license.” I froze, staring at the ring on my finger, silent. But the System reached its absolute limit: “Screw this! I refuse to lose. This time, I’m wiping his memories completely. There’s no way he’ll recognize you now.” “And I’ll implant fake memories that the original heroine is his fiancée, and that he’s been deeply in love with her for years…” Sure enough, when we met again… The man who had proposed to me just days ago didn’t even spare me a glance. He brushed past me with a cold, detached expression: “Pardon me, miss. Excuse me.” 01 After more than two hundred failed attempts, the System finally stopped obsessing over creating disguise after disguise for me. Instead, it shifted its focus entirely onto Dante. And declared with absolute confidence: “Host, I guarantee you, this time the male lead won’t just casually recognize you like before.” Sigh. My ears were practically growing calluses from hearing that exact promise. I let out an indifferent yawn. Over the past few years, under the System’s forced maneuvers, I had tried selling treadmills to eighty-year-olds in underground malls, serving artificial street food to college students, and even playing a hoop-jumping circus monkey. Every single time, the System had guaranteed success in that exact same tone. And every single time, before the ink could even dry on its promise, Dante would show up with a squad of bodyguards. That lunatic needed just one glance to tear away my disguise, drag me back, and flip me over and over in bed until my back was nearly broken. Last time, it took Dante two days to track me down and expose me. That was one day faster than the time before. I wondered if he would be even faster this time… A strange, subtle flicker of anticipation rose in my chest. Seeing me silent, the System patiently explained: “This time is genuinely different. Host, I brought you to this banquet today just to show you…” Before it could finish, the bustling chatter in the grand ballroom died down. The clinking of wine glasses ceased. People turned their heads, whispering as everyone’s gaze gravitated toward the entrance. A big shot had arrived. Pushed back by the crowding guests, my high heels nearly caught on my dress hem. I stumbled two steps before stabilizing myself. I looked up and locked eyes with a familiar, breathtakingly handsome face. Dante wore a charcoal-gray shirt today. Broad shoulders filled out the tailored fabric, tapering into a sharp, narrow waist. Tall, strikingly handsome, draped in an air of noble detachment, he commanded the room effortlessly. Way too handsome. I swallowed ungracefully. My eyes shifted, catching the woman pressed closely to his side. Beside Dante stood a stunning woman I had never seen before. I froze. She beamed, Dante’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders, her fingers delicately touching his firm forearm. Dante loathed being touched by anyone. Yet now, his expression remained cool and indifferent, showing not a hint of resistance to her touch. Maybe the air conditioning was blasting too hard, but a sudden wave of cold washed over me. Chills seeped through my bones, freezing me in place. 02 The System breathed a huge sigh of relief: “It worked! That woman beside him is the original heroine, Serena.” “Host, I wiped every single memory of you from his mind, and implanted new memories that she’s his fiancée and that they’ve been madly in love for years. He only has eyes for her now, so he definitely won’t recognize you.” I was stunned. “The heroine…?” “Of course! This is a romance novel. Naturally, there’s a male lead and a female lead!” Ever since the System dumped me beside Dante, the freezing cold, hunger, and endless lonely wandering of my past had been kept at bay. Life had been so peaceful that I forgot Dante was the male protagonist. The System added casually: “As the male lead, he has a destined female lead. That’s an unshakeable law. What are you even moping about, Host?” I stayed silent for a long time, forcing a stiff tug at the corner of my mouth. “Is that so? Well… that’s wonderful. The mission is finally over. Congratulations…” The System nodded repeatedly: “Yes! This task took way too long and completely derailed from the original script. Dante actually wanted to marry you! A male lead marrying an NPC, was he insane?” I didn’t reply. Lowering my head, I slowly uncurled my palm. A ring rested in my hand. Under the chandelier, the large solitaire diamond caught the light. Inside the band, our names were clearly engraved. That night, when Dante exposed my disguise yet again, he pinned me to the bed. Just as I was on the verge of passing out, a cool band slid down my ring finger, fitting perfectly. Dazed, I raised my hand, nearly blinded by the diamond. Before I could react, Dante pinned my hand down, kissing my forehead softly, his voice trembling: “Sierra… will you give me a chance to give you a home?” I was an orphan. I had never seen my parents. “Home” was a foreign word in my memory. I had doubted countless times if I even deserved one. My lips trembled as I stared at his moving lips until my vision blurred. Unfortunately, before Dante could hear my answer, the System forcibly pulled me out. [NPC emotional anomaly detected. Pulling Host out in 3, 2, 1…] 03 Applause broke my thoughts. On stage, Dante was guiding Serena up, his hand resting lightly against her waist in a familiar, gentle posture. Serena offered him a sweet smile. Infected by her smile, Dante let the corners of his lips curve up slightly, a soft layer of warmth surfacing in his dark eyes. One cold, one radiant, matching seamlessly. Truly a match made in heaven. My mind went blank. Suddenly, Serena turned her head, her gaze landing directly on me. She paused, hooked her finger playfully through Dante’s cuff, and raised her eyebrows at me. Dante took the microphone, his voice crisp and steady through the speakers: “I am Dante, and this is my fiancée, Serena. Seven years ago, when I had nothing, Serena stayed by my side without hesitation. She even injured her arm saving me, leaving a scar on her wrist that hasn’t faded.” Injured her arm saving Dante… I lowered my eyes, pulling my sleeve down firmly to hide the long scar on my wrist. Seven years ago, I was working a summer job at a barbecue place. When the System found me, my delivery time was about to expire, and I was riding my scooter at breakneck speed. Seeing me unbothered, the System said: “Don’t you want to save Spud?” I froze. Spud was a stray cat I adopted when I was ten. People in the alley joked that we were an orphaned kid and an orphaned stray. But I refused that label. My cat wasn’t an orphan. I knew that to Spud, I was his entire world. Even when illness left him too weak to eat, he dragged out his last breath, refusing to close his eyes because cats know humans fear loneliness. The System enticed me: it would cure Spud’s terminal illness if I went to a newly adult teenager named Dante, the world’s male lead who had veered off course, filled with dark resentment and suicidal thoughts, causing the storyline to collapse. My task was simply to keep him alive. So, when Dante held a razor against his wrist seven years ago, I crashed down from the sky right in front of him, completely derailing his self-destruction. Seven years later, that long scar on my wrist throbbed with a faint, phantom pain. I sighed softly, rubbing it with cold fingers to ease the ache, but it was useless. 04 The System whispered: “Sorry, Host. I took the things that happened between you and the male lead and assigned them to the female lead instead.” I didn’t look up, forcing my tone to sound casual: “It’s fine. They’re the ones meant to be together anyway…” The System praised me: “Exactly! They’re a match made in heaven.” On stage, Dante spoke while gazing down at Serena, his eyes dark and calm. Suddenly, he paused mid-sentence. Time ticked by until someone whispered below: “The ring… the ring…” Dante snapped back to reality. Hesitating, he opened a velvet box. Inside lay a ring. A massive diamond solitaire, engraved with letters inside the band. It was identical to the ring sitting in my palm. My breath hitched. I squeezed the ring in my hand tightly, the diamond’s sharp edge digging into my flesh, pain radiating straight to my heart. Stupid Dante. Such a wealthy CEO, and he couldn’t even buy a different ring for his proposal. Cheap jerk. I blinked hard. The System noticed: “Host, are you… crying?” I shook my head violently: “No, just got dust in my eye. Why would I cry? Don’t be ridiculous…” The System sighed: “Alright.” “System.” “Yes, Host?” “Why doesn’t this cake taste sweet at all?” “What did you say?” I shook my head, chewing the cake forcefully. A few seconds later, heavy tears dripped onto the back of my hand. I scrambled to pull tissues from my bag, my hands shaking so violently I couldn’t pull one out. Someone nearby stared. I kept my head down. What are you looking at? Never seen a leaky faucet before? 05 Prompted by the crowd, Dante pinched the ring. Serena raised her hand, a soft blush dusting her cheeks. Just as the ring was about to slide onto her finger, Dante’s eyelashes fluttered. The ring slipped from his fingers with a metallic clink, bouncing across the marble floor and rolling out of sight. Everyone froze. Dante cleared his throat, sounding apologetic: “Sorry, my hands slipped because I was nervous. Could everyone help me look for it?” The guests bent down to scan the marble floor. Serena stepped forward to comfort him: “It’s okay, Dante, we’ll find it.” Dante stood motionless, his calm gaze searching the room, his fists clenched tightly at his side. The System whispered in my ear: “Host, let’s leave.” I bit my lip, taking one last look at Dante. “Okay.” As I stepped out the doors, the ballroom erupted in noise again. Looks like they found the ring. People were chanting for them to kiss. I paused, tempted to turn back, but the System interrupted: “Host, the mission is complete. I’m leaving now. By the way, Spud’s illness is fully cured. You’ll see him when you get home.” Knowing Spud was healthy and waiting for me cheered me up a bit. I didn’t turn back. “Okay. Thank you.”

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