Author: Momo Chan

It was a blissful night, the stars adorned the sky, I held up my head zipping through the gardens, my red silky gown flow as the breeze encircled me with its peace, from afar I sighted a man, clothed in white, his hair was maybe brown colored and shoulders was vast, the strange man looked like a protagonist in a love story, a story that Is about to uncover, as I gasped back to reality. 7:10 am Whoa” I looked at my time to see it was past seven, I had a few hours to get ready for my interview. I hurried in and out of the bathroom, wearing nothing but a towel around me, I wiggled off the water from my hair, pulled out my clothes from the wardrobe, and after, walked out of the house the second I finished getting dressed to the home of my soon to be boss, Mr. Liam Khan. I was being interviewed to be his son’s nanny, minus the fact, I had no idea how to take care of a child, how hard can it be?.  I wore a pair of joggers, a crop top, and a white canvas, wandering through the streets of Elmore city. I walked past a candy shop, followed by another before I got to the place of my interviewer, it bewildered my breath away beholding a house of such immenseness, it felt like a royal family lives there,  the gates automatically opened to me a voice said from behind, “welcome miss Sara Scott”. I took heed of a masculine voice, who walked up to me, slinging his shirt off his wet dripping body.  I gazed like a lost puppy, from his seductive eyes, well-shaped body, and that of his lips, gosh! He looked like a demigod. “Miss Sara! Snap out of it”. I had this hunch he knew how farther my thoughts traveled and if he hadn’t recalled my attention, it would have gone further away, and most likely never to return. “Good morning sir! I came for the interview”. I paused for his response. “Yeah! I do know, come on in”. He says. We took a step into the house, bloody hell, it felt like I had just died and gotten to heaven, its exquisite tastes took my breath away for the second time, and for a man of his caliber, all these things are nothing to him. My eyes loomed around, as we strolled over to his study room, “have a seat and we will begin in a while”. He walks back out, leaving me behind in the study room, as I patiently wait for him, “hmm! Where is he?” Gradually my patience was running thin, I wondered where he was, maybe he had something important to do and forgot he kept me waiting in here? “I rather go check for him” initially I thought about doing so but what if he gets aggravated and that makes me lose this job even before getting it. So without deliberation, I sat back down quietly geeking at the time.

Two hours passed, Liam hasn’t returned for the meeting.”Are you waiting for my dad?” I took heed of a child’s voice, I turned back to see a little boy clutching a ball in his hand, he had curly hair and brown colored eyes. “Hello child,  yes, I am! Do you know where he is?” he walked closer to me, “I think he must be in his room, should I call him?”.  He said. I shook my head disliking his idea, “don’t call him, I’ll wait” I smiled. “Okay! While waiting, do you wish to play football with me?”. He threw away the ball at me, riding out of the room. “Hold on champ” He snatched me outside, aiming to catch the ball, “what are you waiting for! Toss the ball”. His voice attained his father’s attention, as he caught a glimpse of us playing from his room window. We both played to a notch I forgot I had an interview with his father, I swirled back to see the same person I thought of, standing behind with his arms folded together. Holy moly, father of all, I am in deep trouble. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to wait for me” he gets provoked. “Yes sir! But I only wanted to play football with champ here”. I answered back. Liam whirls to the side and saw the boy I called champ, he looked at me and said, “you mean Andres! My son”. “Yes Sir, your son” I duplicated back his words to him, and he detonates a weak smile right back. The smile he had on made me perplexed, he veers his back. “Walk with me”. He says. I walked rearward as we step back into the house. Liam’s switched on his serious face, we quietly walked without altering a word to me, he rumbled a particular song, shaking his head, finally, he repaid his attention to me, “I am sorry for taking much of your time! I had to take care of some pending issues” we continued walking. “Yes sir! So can we proceed with the interview?”. I said idling for his response,  he halts reading the look on my face, “there is no need for the interview! I have gotten what I wanted”. He announces “Gotten what you wanted? I don’t think I understand what you mean by that?”. Liam ran a check on me before answering back, “now let me break it down for you, the whole reason is to find someone that would be able to take care of my son when I am not around, and for the past three weeks, you’re the only person my son, took a liking too, that beats it all!”. “Hmm!” I shook my head understanding his words. An hour later, he ambled with me to the front door, he pushed it open and turned to me, “thank you and welcome to my family, so! Tomorrow I’ll be expecting you”. “Yeah” I rode past him, wearing a smile. 10:09 pm I got back home tired and reeking of alcohol, urgh! My head continued spinning, it felt like the whole world was crumbling down on me, and I needed to have a rest, I couldn’t think of anything else.

The next morning, the sound of my alarm beeped me up, I swung my eyes down just to behold myself naked, how, When, I Don’t understand. The last thing I can remember was going to bed with my clothes on and now to wake up and see myself nude, it didn’t just disappear overnight!. (My clothes). I soared my eyes around gathering my thoughts, exactly when the door to my room pushed open, I saw Christain strolling in with a tray in his hand. “Good morning,” He says, but what I was much concerned about was his shirtless body, “good morning,  did you sleep here last night?”. That question spotted a smile on his face, he walked past me and dropped the tray on the table, attaining back his attention over, “hmm! I did sleep here, but don’t you remember what happened last night?”.  He watched me quietly trying to recollect what happened yesterday after my job interview. All I can remember was after I had left Liam’s home, I went straight to mine and towards dusk, Christian,  who has been my best friend, came home and dragged me out of the house to celebrate with me obtaining a job, and from listing out all his options,  Christain Devon chose to do it in the bar by drowning me in alcohol. The whole scenario played part by part in my head, immediately I lifted them with a furious look on. “What? I told you not to drink too much, but do you listen, no!”. He tries to clarify. In all that wasn’t my main concern, all I wanted to find out was, apart from what he said, did anything happen?. That there was my interest, I cannot possibly think of doing anything with my best friend, it’s just messed up. “Did we have…sex”. I raised a question, Christian immediately laughed, it felt like I shouldn’t have said something about it, but I needed to know how my clothes dispatched from my body, whereas he strode into my room without wearing a shirt. “Yes! We did have sex…. God it was magical and wonderful”. I watched as his imagination plunges far away, he walks closer to me nudging his head forward to mine, “are you stupid? We didn’t have sex and besides, you removed your clothes the second you got into your room and lastly the only reason I slept here was that it was getting late, so please nothing happened between us, it hasn’t and it won’t ever happen”. I buffed out a relieved breath, thank God almighty that nothing of a sort happened last night, a few minutes not quite long my phone rang, I picked up the call without identifying the caller. “Hello! I’m I unto miss Sara?”. A masculine voice at the other end of the phone says, “Yes you are?” I responded oblivious to the fact my boss, Liam was the caller. “Good morning it’s Liam, and why aren’t you here yet?”. He asked me, holding me at the other t end of the phone. I dashed into the bathroom. “I am sorry sir! I’ll be there” I replied. Liam immediately puts off the call the second he warned I come before it clocked 10:00 am,  and  I did everything possible to beat the time. Christain quietly watched me run in chaos and not once did he alter a word of assistance to me,  sometimes he can be such a wizard. “Excuse me” I shouted. He took a step back, as I dashed out of the house holding my shoes.

Stop me here?” The cab halted in front of Liam’s mansion, I stepped out of the car after paying my fare. I ran like I was being chased by a spirit, “whoa! Calm down” A feminine voice attained my attention, I looked up to find an elderly lady standing in front of me. “Oops! I am sorry ma’am, I didn’t see you there”. I buffed and buffed for a while trying to curb my breath, the lady looked at me with a curious gaze, when someone else blurted out before she did. “You’re late” I took heed of a footstep approaching, I hoisted my head a little beholding Liam’s angry gaze. “I am sorry sir,  Please forgive me, I had a mishap last night” I answered back, but my response no way made any difference, he took me by my hands as we walked close to the door, the serious look on his face got me tensed, and without hesitation, Liam shoved me outside and angrily tried to bang the door. “let go of it, right now,” he noticed I stopped him. salvaging his angry eyes at me. “No sir! But try to understand my situation please” I said trying to explain to him, instead he pulls my hands from blocking the door and slammed the door to my face. Liam swerved back to hint at the elderly lady I walked in a few minutes ago,  gazing at him, “what is it aunt?”, He moves closer to her. “Why did you send the lady out, at least you would have listened to what she had to say” She tried clarifying, but he walks past her not impairing a single word. I sat outside for over an hour now, my mind constantly played tricks on me, it was either I get up and leave or rather bang on the door, until he decides to open up, therefore before I could make up my mind, the door opened “come in”. Liam said, standing behind. I buffed out a relieved breath heeding to his voice,  I jerked up from where I was sited and turned strolling back in. “Now talk to me, why were you late?”. He interrogated. An hour had passed and it was now time he deemed necessary to listen to me,  minus the fact I had the worst reason ever. “I had an emergency at home, my mom got hit by a horse”. I had no idea, how that came out, but it did and I know Liam no way believe me but fairly, he smiled ambling away. it felt like a huge load was dropped from my shoulder as I watched him leave. Lingering around, I sat and waited for my job description to be read out to me, the whole day passed and Liam didn’t even step his feet out of his room, yet again did he forget I was in the living room waiting for him?. Some hours later. “Erm! Did you not move from his spot throughout the whole day?”. Finally, Liam decides to come out. ” Sir, I was waiting to hear the explicit duties you want me to do as your son’s nanny!”. I said swerving my gaze low. “Specific duties? Huh? I don’t think I explained everything to you yesterday, wait I’ll be back”. He walks  up into his bedroom.

I couldn’t take my eyes off, later on, Liam walks down to meet me, he handed over a piece of documents, which stated each and everything I needed to do as his son’s nanny, but among the listed requirements, what I couldn’t understand was, and I quote, you will have to live with us, so your duties will be taken care of effectively. I raised my head, as I politely asked him to explain further. “Urgh! Do I have to explain everything to you? “Liam says taking note of the expression I had on my face, “have you ever been a babysitter before” he added. Originally,  I thought lying to him would be better but something within told on, I should tell the truth, so I did. “No sir, I haven’t been a babysitter before”. I replied. “How the hell I’m I going to entrust my son to someone who doesn’t know the first thing about babysitting”. Liam scowls at me. I know he had every right to stop me from working, firstly I had no idea how to babysit a child, and secondly, I can still recall I lied to him about being a babysitter on my resume. “Look, sir! I am sorry, I know I said I have been a babysitter before,  but I am willing to learn and abide by the rules and regulations governing our contract, please give me a chance sir”. I pleaded with him in at most sincerity, and he quietly listens “hmm! I can see you’re sorry, but it’s okay, maybe God wanted you to get this job, in all honesty, I’ll like to see how you handle a kid of such naughtiness especially if the child is my son”. Liam speaks in a loud voice detonating a devilish smile at me. I’ll love to wipe off that smile on his face when I show him, I can do anything if I set my mind to it. “Yes sir, I can do it” I said. Apparently to him, that was my response but behind those words what I truly meant is, Challenge accepted,  and trust me, I will make Andres be in his good behavior, even if I have to bend him to it. “Okay! Why don’t you go home and pack your bags and please make sure you’re early okay?’ he says making his way to his study room. The following morning, before my alarm beeped, I was up already, my bags packed, and I was set to begin a new phase in my life, a phrase with Liam Khan in it. Ding dong. I rang the doorbell placed outside the moment I got to his house, I patiently waited for a response when something flashed brightly to my eyes, I looked a little further, just to notice I was being followed by the reporters, they all attacked me,  I struggled to push them off but the more I try the more intense they become, unexplainably a hand-pulled me out, as I feel my whole weight on my new boss. “Liam,” I said. Everything happened so fast, they surrounded us in every corner,  aiming to know who the strange-looking lady appeared at Liam’s doorstep clenching a suitcase. According to them, they thought I must be the woman Liam has been hiding from the world for over some time, in a real sense I am but his son’s nanny.

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After five years of marriage to Vincent Grey, I still hadn’t become pregnant. He withstood immense family pressure and publicly claimed that the problem was his own. Everyone said his love for me, Claire Ashford, was unmatched—he was even willing to give up his masculine pride for me. But even a man like Vincent Grey eventually cheated. At a business reception, he was drugged by a rival and ended up sleeping with a female college student working part-time at the event, Chloe Rivers. The day I asked for a divorce, he cried and swore: “Claire, I’m dirty now. You can hit me, yell at me, punish me—just don’t leave me.” I believed him. But five months later, I accidentally saw Vincent accompanying Chloe, her belly slightly rounded, as they picked out baby supplies at a shopping mall. This time, I asked for a divorce again. He frowned and said: “Can you stop making a scene?” “Chloe is pregnant. Once she gives birth, I’ll make her leave.” “You are still my wife.” Everyone thought I would forgive him again this time. But I threw away my wedding ring, cut up our wedding photos, and boarded a flight in the middle of the night to leave. A man who has been tainted… is no longer worth keeping.

Claire Ashford POV Everyone said Vincent Grey’s love for me was incomparable. When I casually mentioned wanting to see the Northern Lights, he postponed his meetings and chartered a private jet, flying me all the way to Scandinavia to chase the aurora. When I said I missed my grandmother’s apple pie, he flew in seven master pastry chefs from England, all to recreate that familiar taste. He spoiled me endlessly. Even when I coughed, he would panic like it was a crisis. But that same Vincent eventually cheated on me. He was drugged by a rival at a business gala and slept with a college girl who was working part-time at the event. When I found out and packed my bags to leave, he sent the girl away overnight. Then he knelt outside my family’s house under the scorching sun until he collapsed. He said, “Claire, I have been tainted. You can hit me, scream at me, punish me. But please don’t leave me.” Looking at his cracked lips, I softened in the end. But less than five months later, I accidentally ran into Vincent at a mall with that same college girl, her belly slightly swollen, shopping for baby supplies together. He rushed to explain. “Claire, she got pregnant that night. Grandfather found out and threatened his own life if I didn’t keep the child.” “Grandfather raised me. He has been the best to me since I was young. I can’t just ignore his life. Please don’t leave me, okay?” He held me tightly, his eyes red as he promised. “I swear, once she gives birth, I’ll send her abroad. Grandfather will raise the child. They will never appear in front of us again.” Seeing the deep pain in his eyes, I softened once more. I thought if I could just endure until Chloe Rivers gave birth, this absurdity would end. Until this time, at a private collector’s auction on a cruise ship, Vincent actually competed against me for my mother’s keepsake, just to make Chloe happy. It was an antique pocket watch, the last thing my mother left me before she died. After my family went bankrupt, the watch was forced into collateral and had been lost ever since. It became my deepest regret and obsession. I’d been searching for three years before it finally reappeared at this auction. But Vincent kept raising his paddle, and finally bought it from me at an exorbitant price. I followed him out of the auction and confronted him on the cruise ship deck. Vincent sighed helplessly. “Chloe wanted to pick a gift for the baby, but couldn’t find anything she liked, until she saw this pocket watch. She fell in love with it at first sight.” “Claire, can you just let her have this one?” His eyes were gentle, his voice soft and coaxing. “I’ll find you a better one later, okay?” I clenched my fists, my heart turning cold. My face was icy. “Vincent, you know perfectly well that this watch is my mother’s keepsake. You know exactly how long I’ve been searching for it.” “I know it means the world to you, but Chloe has her heart set on it. Giving it to her is just to help her stay calm and safely deliver the baby.” Vincent reached out to take my hand, but I dodged. He rubbed his temples instead. “Claire, don’t throw a tantrum over something this small. Chloe only has a few more months before she gives birth. Once she has the baby and leaves, everything will go back to how it was before.” I suddenly laughed. “Go back to how it was before?” What were we like before? Was it when he set all his passwords to my birthday? Or when he drove across half the city in pouring rain during my period, just to bring me a hot water bottle? But ever since he slept with Chloe Rivers, that Vincent who only had eyes for me was gone. I should have understood earlier. Once a crack forms, it can never be restored. We could never go back to before. “Oh no!” Suddenly, Chloe, standing at the edge of the deck, cried out. “What’s wrong?” Vincent panicked and rushed over immediately. “Are you feeling sick?” I instinctively turned to look. I remembered Chloe had just been holding that pocket watch, playing with it lovingly. Now her hands were empty. An ominous feeling crept over me. I quickly approached Chloe and asked urgently, “Where’s the watch? Weren’t you just holding it?” “Mr. Grey…” Chloe’s eyes brimmed with tears as she looked helplessly at Vincent. “I’m so sorry. When I was looking at the watch just now, the baby suddenly kicked me. I couldn’t hold on properly, and it… accidentally fell into the ocean.” Vincent froze. “Fell into the ocean?” I felt a roaring in my ears. All the blood in my body rushed to my head. I lunged forward and grabbed Chloe’s collar, my eyes blazing. “That was my mother’s keepsake! Chloe, was that an accident or on purpose?!” Chloe flinched, tears streaming down her face, looking even more pitiful. “Miss Ashford, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know it was so important to you… I’ll go get it back for you right now!” She struggled against me, as if about to climb over the railing and jump into the sea. “Chloe, stop this nonsense.” Vincent pulled Chloe into his arms and snapped at me disapprovingly. “Claire, you’re scaring her. It’s just a watch. If it fell, it fell. Is it really more important than her and the child? She’s pregnant. How can she do something so dangerous?” Just a watch. Every word was like a needle stabbing into my heart. “Calm down first. It’s windy on the deck. I’m taking Chloe back to rest.” With those words, Vincent didn’t spare me another glance. He walked away with his arm around Chloe. He didn’t notice that the second he left, I climbed over the railing and jumped into the pitch-black, freezing ocean without hesitation. As seawater flooded into my nose, I suddenly remembered. Five years ago, when he proposed to me, it was also on a cruise ship like this. He said, “Claire, from now on, even if you want the stars in the sky, I’ll get them for you.” But now, he didn’t even care about the keepsake my mother left me.

Claire Ashford POV It took me all night to crawl out of the freezing seawater. The recovered pocket watch was clutched in my palm. My fingers were stiff from the cold, my lips purple. I staggered onto shore. After just a few steps, everything went black and I lost consciousness. Afterward, I struggled between chaotic dreams and reality. Sometimes I dreamed of my mother’s gentle smile. Sometimes I dreamed of Vincent kneeling under the scorching sun. Sometimes I dreamed of the pocket watch slowly sinking to the ocean floor. When I woke up, the smell of disinfectant filled my nostrils. My whole body was burning with fever. I groggily opened my eyes to see the white ceiling of a hospital. The room was silent. There was no one by my bedside. No Vincent. Not even a nurse. I propped myself up and reached for my phone on the nightstand, wanting to call Vincent. But then I saw a new post Chloe had made on Instagram. The photo’s background was the passenger seat of Vincent’s black Bentley. Chloe’s hand rested on her slightly rounded belly, and on her ring finger was a dazzling diamond ring. The caption was just one sentence: “He said he wants to give me and the baby a home.” I stared at that diamond ring for a long time, until my eyes stung. That was the pink diamond Vincent had won for me at an auction last year. I thought it was too flashy and kept it in the safe. Turns out he’d taken it out and put it on someone else’s hand. I pulled my lips into a smile, wanting to laugh, but only tasted bitterness. I was hospitalized with a high fever for three days. Vincent never came once. No calls. No messages. It was as if I had disappeared from the world. On the day I was discharged, I had the taxi stop at a law office. Two hours later, I walked out with a document. The cover read. Divorce Agreement. That evening, I finally returned to the villa I once thought would be my forever home. As soon as I stepped through the door, I sensed something was off. Several servants were carrying boxes upstairs, new boxes with luxury brand logos. “What are these?” I stopped one of the servants. The servant looked uncomfortable, stammering without answering. “Claire?” Vincent’s voice came from the living room. He walked over quickly, his face wearing its usual gentle smile. He reached to take my bag. “You’re back.” I avoided his hand and asked again, “Whose things are those?” Vincent’s smile froze for a moment, his gaze evasive. “They’re Chloe’s. She only has a few more months until she gives birth. I was worried about her living alone, so I thought I’d have her move in. This way it’s easier to take care of her, and I won’t have to run back and forth between two places.” I looked at him silently. I knew my eyes must have looked like two dry wells at that moment. My silence made him panic. He quickly added, “Claire, don’t overthink it. Chloe’s only staying here for a few months. Once she has the baby, I’ll send her abroad immediately. She’ll never appear in front of us again. I promise.” Promise. I remembered how he’d knelt under the scorching sun and promised he’d never see Chloe Rivers again. I remembered how he’d held my hand and promised that once the child was born, he’d send her away. Now he was promising again. It was only temporary, just for a few months. Every promise came with another boundary crossed. “If you’re really that unhappy,” Vincent said, seeing my continued silence, his tone softening, “I’ll have them throw all this stuff out right now. I won’t let Chloe move in. Okay?” I closed my eyes. After a long moment, I opened them, calm and emotionless. “No need. I agree to let her move in.” What would be the point of refusing anyway? Since he’d already made up his mind, since he’d already brazenly moved Chloe Rivers’ belongings into our home, did my agreement or disagreement even matter to him? It would just mean more coaxing words from him, or another day of kneeling in the sun. Hearing this, Vincent’s face showed obvious relief. He couldn’t help but lean in and kiss my cheek. “I knew it. My Claire is the most understanding and considerate.” That kiss landed on my skin, but I felt like I’d been burned. “By the way,” Vincent said, as if suddenly remembering something, frowning, “where have you been these past few days? I haven’t seen you around. Were you still mad about the watch and hiding from me on purpose?” I looked up at him. He asked so naturally, so innocently, as if he were truly just a husband worried about his wife throwing a tantrum. I was hospitalized with a high fever for three days, and he had no idea. I suddenly remembered a phrase I had read somewhere. When someone doesn’t love you anymore, even if you were hanging from a rope, they would think you were on a swing. I used to think that saying was too harsh. Now I understood. It was all true. “No,” I heard myself say. “I was just tired and wanted some time alone.” Vincent relaxed and put his arm around my shoulders. “That’s good. Tonight I’ll cook your favorite dishes to make it up to you. Okay?”

Claire Ashford POV “Mr. Grey…” Just as Vincent was coaxing me, a soft, timid voice came from the spiral staircase. We both turned. Chloe Rivers stood midway up the stairs in a loose maternity dress, one hand supporting her waist. Vincent immediately released his arm from around me and strode toward the stairs. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Why did you come downstairs by yourself?” He quickly climbed the steps and naturally supported Chloe’s arm, his movements gentle, as if handling a fragile treasure. Chloe said softly, “I’m not feeling bad. I just suddenly had a craving for the crème brûlée and chestnut cake from that bakery on the west side of town. Could you send someone to get me some?” “Little glutton.” Vincent’s face showed an indulgent smile. “Wait here. I’ll go get it for you.” Chloe looked flattered. “You’ll go yourself? Isn’t that too much trouble…” “Don’t be silly.” Vincent’s palm covered her slightly swollen belly, his eyes so tender they could melt. “You’re carrying our baby. You’re precious to the Grey family. Running an errand for you, how could that be trouble?” That tender gaze, that protective manner, that picture of sweet happiness. They were like countless fine needles piercing my eyes, making them ache. Vincent helped Chloe settle on the living room sofa, carefully instructing her not to wander around, before turning to get his car keys. As he passed me, he seemed to remember I existed. “Claire, do you want anything? I can bring something back for you too.” “No need.” My voice was flat, emotionless. Vincent nodded. “Alright then. I’ll be back soon. Chloe, call me if you need anything.” That last sentence was directed at the sofa. With that, he grabbed his car keys and left the villa quickly. In the vast living room, only two women remained. I slowly turned around, my gaze falling coldly on Chloe. That look carried scrutiny and a chill that made Chloe shrink, her fingers clutching the fabric of her dress. I walked toward her step by step. “Miss Ashford.” Chloe looked at me with those doe-like moist eyes, speaking timidly. “Are you going to punish me for the watch? I’m sorry. I really didn’t do it on purpose. The baby really did kick me, and my hand slipped.” “Whether you did it on purpose or not,” I stopped one step away from her, “you know the truth.” Chloe froze, her eyelashes trembling. I stared at her intently. “You’re quite capable, actually managing to make Vincent compete with me for my mother’s keepsake.” Chloe shook her head frantically, tears quickly filling her eyes, threatening to fall. “Miss Ashford, you’re misunderstanding me. If I’d known that pocket watch was so important to you, I never would have dared compete for it.” “Is that so?” “Even though Mr. Grey bought it from you and gave it to me, I know he was just trying to keep me calm so I’d safely deliver the baby and leave as soon as possible.” Her eyes glistened with tears as she choked up. “Mr. Grey treats me well, but I understand he’s doing all this for the child. In his heart, he’s always been thinking of… you.” I laughed coldly. “There are only the two of us here, Chloe Rivers. No matter how well you act, no one’s going to applaud you.” Chloe’s expression stiffened for a moment. “Six months ago, Vincent gave you thirty million and sent you away. But you not only secretly kept his child, you also found a way to let his grandfather, who desperately wanted a great-grandchild, know about it. That forced Vincent to bring you back. You schemed your way back here, moved in, and you claim it’s just to peacefully give birth and then leave?” I said mockingly. “Chloe Rivers, do you even believe that yourself?” I didn’t, anyway. Chloe’s lips moved as if to defend herself, but I took out a document from my bag and handed it to her. “I know exactly what you want,” I said expressionlessly. “I can make it happen for you. But if I ask Vincent for a divorce, he won’t agree. If you can find a way to make him sign this divorce agreement, you’ll get what you want.” Ever since Chloe got pregnant, Vincent had been terrified I’d leave him. He carefully read any document I gave him. Chloe looked uncertain. “Miss Ashford, you really are misunderstanding me. I never wanted to break you and Mr. Grey up…” “This chance only comes once.” My face was cold. “Think carefully before you answer.” Chloe stared at the divorce agreement for a long time. After much hesitation, she bit her lip and reached out to take it. “Then, thank you.”

Claire Ashford POV After Chloe moved into the villa, Vincent’s attention was mostly focused on her. He hired a professional nutritionist to prepare elaborate pregnancy meals for her daily. He read parenting books, learning how to provide prenatal education for the unborn child. Every time Chloe went up or down the stairs, he’d carefully support her, terrified she might bump into something. I saw all of this. But I said nothing. One night, I was jolted awake by a sudden, sharp stomach pain. “Vincent,” I instinctively called his name, my voice weak. “My stomach hurts…” Usually, even if I just coughed, he’d wake up immediately and ask anxiously what was wrong. But this time, there was only silence beside me. Didn’t he hear me? “Vincent.” I called again, reaching toward the other side of the bed. My palm touched the sheets, cold and flat, without a trace of warmth. He wasn’t there. I froze. Just then, a man’s low, gentle voice came faintly from the guest room next door, reading intermittently, “and so, the prince and princess lived happily ever after…” It was Vincent. He was in the guest room next door, reading Chloe a bedtime story. I, his actual wife, was in agony from stomach pain, while he sat by another woman’s bedside, building a fairy-tale world for his pregnant mistress and unborn child. I pulled my lips into a smile, wanting to laugh, but my stomach hurt even more. Even my chest ached with a dull pain. The stomach pain didn’t allow me to think further. Gritting my teeth, I forced my weak body to get up, wanting to go downstairs to find painkillers. Cold sweat soaked my hair. I supported myself against the wall and had just reached the bedroom door when a violent cramping pain struck. Everything went black, and I passed out before I could grab onto anything. When I woke up again, I was back in bed. Vincent was sitting by the bedside. When he saw me open my eyes, he immediately bent down and grasped my hand. “Claire! You’re awake?” He was incredibly anxious, as if terrified. “You collapsed in your room last night. You scared me to death!” I looked at his bloodshot eyes without speaking. “The doctor came by. He said you’ve had irregular eating habits lately, and your stomach condition flared up, causing you to faint from the pain. It’s nothing serious.” He frowned, worried and confused. “But you eat with us every day. How could your eating be irregular?” I lowered my eyes, hiding the self-mockery in them. Recently, all his thoughts were on Chloe and her growing belly. Naturally, he wouldn’t notice that watching him dote on another woman made me lose my appetite completely. I couldn’t eat anything. “It might be because of me.” Chloe appeared at the bedroom door at some point, her face full of guilt. “Miss Ashford is probably still upset about me accidentally dropping the watch. That’s why she can’t eat. It’s all my fault.” Vincent’s brow furrowed deeply. He turned to me. “Claire, Chloe really didn’t do it on purpose. I already talked to her about it. If you’re still bothered by it, I’ll compensate you on her behalf, okay? Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you, as long as you stop being unhappy about this and eat properly.” Compensate again. The word was so absurd it made me want to laugh. Did he think everything could be traded away or smoothed over with “compensation”? Before I could respond, Chloe slowly walked in with a warm smile. “You don’t need to compensate Miss Ashford for me, because I have already obtained something Miss Ashford wants even more.” She handed me a document envelope. Vincent’s gaze was drawn to it. “What is that?” Seeing him curiously reach for the envelope, my heart tightened. I quickly snatched it before he could. I forced a smile. “This is just a little secret between me and Miss Rivers.” Vincent paused, then laughed. “When did you two become so close that you’re keeping secrets from me? You used to tell me everything.” I looked up at him. “Didn’t you also keep it from me that she was five months pregnant before letting me know?”

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When I found out my childhood sweetheart, Chloe, couldn’t have children, my husband, Ethan, became convinced it was my fault. He forced me to have an abortion and then forced me to divorce him. I thought his revenge would end there. But at his wedding to Chloe, he actually played my intimate video. “The woman in the video is my ex-wife, Aubrey Stone, and that’s why I divorced her!” Suddenly, I was the scandalous woman everyone shamed and condemned. After I was beaten and hospitalized, Ethan came to visit me. He offered a perfunctory apology: “I didn’t expect those internet trolls to actually hurt you. I just wanted to help Chloe get some payback. You framed her before, so now we’re even.” I looked at him numbly, a cold laugh escaping my lips. How could we ever be even after this? Ethan, the pain you’ve inflicted on me is something you can never atone for! “Aubrey, did you hear what I said?” My silence completely infuriated Ethan. He instinctively tightened his grip on my arm. I winced in pain and quickly pushed his hand away. “Chloe told you I impersonated you, sent her messages to get an abortion, and that’s why she can’t have kids for life, and you just believed her?” “And why wouldn’t I? You’re the only one who knows my phone password, and you’re still denying it?” Ethan snapped, his face reddening with anger as he pointed at me. “I’m telling you, this is a lesson. Don’t cause trouble again, or I won’t stop them from taking this fifth child either.” With that, Ethan turned and walked away. I watched his retreating back and gave a self-deprecating laugh. “Fine then, don’t keep it. I don’t want to have any more of your children anyway, especially since only the father of my children could inherit the Sterling Medical Dynasty.” No sooner had Ethan left than the hospital room door swung open. I thought it was the hospital staff, but it turned out to be internet trolls who supported Chloe. They attacked me again. This time, I was seriously injured. I called the police, but nothing came of it. Because my husband, legally speaking, as my next of kin, settled the case. When I woke up the next day and learned all this, I screamed hysterically at Ethan, “Why? We’re divorced, how dare you make decisions for me?!” “We might be separated, but legally, I’m still your husband.” Meeting Ethan’s indifferent gaze, I felt a lump of frustration stuck in my throat. It took a while for my breathing to steady. “Fine, even if that’s true, why would you settle? They almost killed me, do you know that?!” “You’re exaggerating. They just couldn’t stand seeing you bully Chloe. Besides, are you completely blameless?” It was the same old line. I knew Ethan cared about Chloe, but I never imagined he’d be so utterly blinded by her. Tears welled up in my eyes at the thought. The injustice I felt was beyond words. Well, good. The decision I hadn’t been able to make before was now set in stone. While Ethan wasn’t looking, I sent a message: [Proceed as planned, new successor.] The reply came quickly: [Not Ethan anymore?]

Ethan? Did he deserve it? [No, choose someone else.] Chloe had clung to Ethan relentlessly, for no other reason than him being the chosen successor of a medical legend. Both the hospital and the medical college were ultimately supposed to be inherited by Ethan. The Sterling Medical Dynasty had already announced this. Everyone said, “The Sterling family really does pick its heirs based on ability, choosing outside their own children.” “Exactly! It seems merit truly prevails.” Little did they know, I was the sole heir of the Sterling Medical Dynasty, and Ethan was simply *my* chosen successor. My parents had asked me back then, “Why him?” To this day, I remember what I said: “He may only be a midwife now, but I believe he has a bright future.” Ethan hadn’t disappointed me. In just three years, he became a leader in his field. He even became synonymous with the profession of a midwife. But without our family’s support, how could his path have been so smooth? I even used to joke with Ethan, “If I told you I was the heir to the Sterling Medical Dynasty, would you believe me?” Ethan paused for a moment, then laughed, “Honey, even if your family background doesn’t match mine, I wouldn’t mind. And don’t worry, my parents are completely fine with whoever I choose.” Back then, Ethan only had eyes for me. He didn’t just say it; he acted on it. Because I had always kept my identity a secret, my in-laws thought I wasn’t good enough for Ethan. But every time, Ethan would sternly retort, “I’m choosing a wife, not a business partner for you.” For my sake, Ethan hadn’t visited his parents’ mansion in ages. Their family relationship had only recently begun to mend. I just never expected a man’s love could be a deception from beginning to end. Four miscarriages later, I was utterly disillusioned with this man. Three days later, I was discharged and returned home, only to find the house completely transformed. Chloe, a triumphant smirk on her face, came downstairs. She feigned surprise, “Oh, Aubrey, you’re back?” “Even though you’re still legally my husband’s wife, we’re already married. I actually don’t want to see you in *my* house…” I ignored Chloe and walked straight to the bedroom, intending to retrieve my belongings. But Chloe blocked my path. “This is our master bedroom. Do you think you can just waltz in?” “I need to get my things.” “Your things?” Chloe instantly sneered. “What ‘things’ do you have? All your belongings were bought by my husband.” Meeting Chloe’s mocking gaze, I didn’t back down. “Chloe, you just said I’m still legally Ethan’s wife. If I were to truly burn all bridges and sue him for bigamy, what impact do you think that would have on both of you?” “You… you’re threatening me?” I didn’t deny it, and Chloe was furious. Taking advantage of her hesitation, I walked straight into the bedroom. But the transformed room left me at a loss. Chloe recovered and mocked, “I threw out all your things. If you really want them, go check the trash cans downstairs.” “What about the box in the closet?” I opened the closet, but didn’t see the cherished box. Chloe ignored my sharp glare, merely shrugging, “Threw it away.” Furious, I grabbed Chloe by the throat. “You’re asking for it.” As Chloe struggled, Ethan returned.

He shoved me away. “Aubrey, are you crazy?!” Seeing Ethan, Chloe instantly burst into breathless sobs. “Ethan, I don’t know why Aubrey is doing this to me!” But my eyes were fixed on Ethan. “She threw away our children.” Ethan’s eyes darkened for a moment. Chloe quickly interjected, “How was I supposed to know what was in that old box? Besides, your first four children weren’t even viable embryos. And now you’re using dead children to insult me?” “Aubrey, how can you be so vicious? Aren’t you afraid your children’s vengeful spirits will come back to haunt you?” Chloe certainly knew how to twist things. My four children were all lost because of her, yet she managed to completely absolve herself. I expected Ethan to reprimand Chloe, but instead, he frowned. “I’ve told you before not to keep those unlucky things in the house.” I stared at Ethan in disbelief. So, our children were just “unlucky things” to him. Of course, why couldn’t I see it? If he truly cared about our children, how could he have let them miscarry? “Enough, Aubrey. Do you want to lose yet another child?” Ethan knew my obsession with having children. He always knew how desperately I wanted to bear his children, so he used that to manipulate me. But our fifth child was already gone when I was attacked by those internet trolls supporting Chloe. I sneered at Ethan. “Neither you nor I deserve to have children.” With that, I tried to leave, but Ethan blocked me. “It’s my father’s birthday tomorrow. You have to be there.” At his words, I couldn’t help but scoff. “Everyone knows you married Chloe. Why would I, your ex-wife, show up?” Ethan immediately frowned. “Look, this is your chance to atone. My parents know you’re pregnant and are willing to overlook everything. Just go, okay?” “I’m not going.” My gaze was firm. After saying that, I ignored Ethan completely and turned to leave. But I didn’t expect Ethan to retaliate by sabotaging people who were friendly with me. Soon after, Ethan sent me a message: [If you don’t come, I guarantee they’ll suffer greatly.] I didn’t reply, so Ethan exposed me on Ins. The compromising video from his and Chloe’s wedding had only been known by a few people, but now everyone knew. Suddenly, I was a pariah. The same people who had assaulted me at the hospital now came out to speak for what they called ‘justice’: [Boycott Aubrey Stone…] My company even issued a statement announcing my termination. People I didn’t even know, who claimed to be close to me, started coming forward. [Yes, I was Aubrey Stone’s classmate, she was like this even in school.] [I can’t believe Aubrey Stone got together with Ethan Stone and still wasn’t satisfied.] [She’s had three abortions. It’s because the children weren’t Ethan’s at all. Only Ethan could put up with it, anyone else would have beaten Aubrey Stone to death.] My social media accounts were attacked within half an hour. My DMs were flooded with insults telling me to die. I saved all of them and sent them to my lawyer. But I didn’t expect this to be just the beginning. Knowing I was under attack from all sides, Ethan launched a series of further actions. His goal was singular: to force me into submission. After making a phone call to arrange things, I replied to Ethan’s message: [Okay, I’ll be there on time tomorrow.] Before going, I went to the hospital and placed my fifth child in an exquisite box. That night, I stayed at my small apartment, but Chloe was restless all night. She kept sending me intimate videos of her and Ethan, or recordings of Ethan slandering me. [Aubrey can’t compare to you. You’re the one I care about most.] [Even though Aubrey is pregnant now, I still want to have a child with you.] [Chloe, no one will ever break us apart again.] I forwarded all of these to my lawyer as well. My lawyer immediately sent a happy emoji: [You’re definitely going to win.] Yes, Ethan had grandly married Chloe, yet he never even bothered to finalize the divorce with me. It showed just how little he valued me. In Ethan’s eyes, I was just someone with no family support. Fortunately, this also allowed me to see his true colors. Early the next morning, I was yanked awake by Ethan. He glared at me, “Are you ever going to stop? Chloe doesn’t even mind you being my mistress, yet you keep stirring up trouble. Do you really want me to throw you out to be satisfied?”

Meeting Ethan’s furious, almost devouring gaze, I felt a bit bewildered. Seeing my confusion, Ethan grew even angrier. “Still playing innocent? You found someone to maliciously spread rumors that Chloe broke up our relationship, saying you’re still my wife, and that Chloe can’t have children for life. Are you trying to see Chloe dead?” Even though I hadn’t done any of those things, all of them were true. As our eyes met, Ethan understood the meaning in mine. He grabbed me and dragged me off the bed. “Since you’re so vicious, you don’t need this child either.” Ethan dragged me to the hospital, but just before I went into the operating room, he received a FaceTime call from Chloe. “Alright, alright, I’ll be right there.” Ethan left me in the operating room. He said, “Be at the mansion within half an hour, or you’ll regret it.” Watching Ethan’s frantic departure, I couldn’t help but smile. I was going anyway, even if he hadn’t said anything. I had an announcement to make. By the time I arrived at the mansion, many people had already gathered. These people, who used to be overly polite to me, now merely glanced at me coldly, clearly disapproving. Some even deliberately whispered loudly, “I really don’t know how some people have the nerve to show up.” “Exactly! Today is Mr. Stone Sr.’s birthday, and the Sterling Medical Dynasty is also announcing Ethan as the successor. How can she, someone who constantly slandered Mrs. Stone, still have the face to come?” “Well, she is an ex-wife, after all. Maybe she’s hoping to cash in on the family’s prestige.” I didn’t pay much attention to their remarks. Ethan’s parents also saw me and immediately snorted, “What are you doing here? Our Stone family doesn’t have a daughter-in-law like you.” I was about to say something when Ethan arrived with a frail and delicate-looking Chloe. The Stone family members smiled and stepped forward. “Chloe, you’re pregnant now, be careful.” Hearing this, everyone present gasped. “She’s already pregnant?” “Congratulations!” But I couldn’t help but mock, “Didn’t she say she was infertile for life? How did she get pregnant so quickly?” Hearing me say that, Ethan glared sharply at me. “Shut up.” Everyone thought I was heartless and cold, with some even saying, “I think she’s just jealous.” Ethan’s family, enraged, ordered their bodyguards to pin me to the ground. “Beat her! How dare she target my daughter-in-law? I won’t tolerate it!” After Mr. Stone Sr. spoke, the Stone family bodyguards surrounded me. I looked at Ethan one last time. “I’m pregnant too…” “So what? Your child only stays if I want it to.” Ethan looked at me with disdain. I closed my eyes and counted down in my mind. I thought, everything should end now. Just as the bodyguards started tearing at my clothes, Mr. Stone Sr. suddenly yelled, “Wait!” I thought he had realized something, but instead, he said, “The people from the Sterling Medical Dynasty are arriving soon. Take Aubrey to the back first, don’t make a scene.” No sooner had he spoken than the bodyguards dragged me towards the garden. At the same moment, the banquet hall doors were pushed open. The Stone family members fawned over the newcomers, “You’re here.” The person didn’t even look at them, instead scanning the crowd. Ethan, receiving a signal from Mr. Stone Sr.’s eyes, hurried after the person. “Hello, I’m Ethan Stone.” The person glanced at Ethan, their expression instantly darkening. “Where is Miss Sterling?” Everyone was baffled. “Miss Sterling? Your Miss Sterling is at the banquet?” Mr. Stone Sr. looked at Mr. Davies in disbelief. Mr. Davies searched the room but couldn’t find me. He immediately called my number. The next moment, my phone rang in my hand. Everyone present looked with horror in my direction. At this point, Mr. Davies also saw me, my clothes disheveled. His face went pale. “Miss Sterling?”

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I waited for ten hours at the Registrar’s Office again, until the screen above the window went completely dark. I spoke calmly into my phone. “Ethan, the Registrar’s Office is closed again.” This was the third time he’d left me to become a joke on the day we were supposed to sign our marriage license. Each time, the excuse was identical. Chloe, the girl next door, was so helpless, she couldn’t even turn on a gas stove. He said she was all alone and so clumsy, and he was just lending a hand. Once, I bought into his grand excuses. I let her tag along on every date. I got used to him being called away mid-movie. Even when people openly mocked me for being too invested, I held my head high and endured it. But my patience only brought out his entitlement. Finally, there was a stir from the earpiece. He clearly heard me say the Registrar’s Office was closed again, yet he couldn’t even be bothered with a perfunctory apology. On the other end of the line, he deliberately lowered his voice, coaxing her with extreme patience. “Don’t worry, it’s just a scratch from a broken nail. Leave it, I’ll put a band-aid on it right away.” Meanwhile, the marriage license application form in my hand was being swept into the trash like garbage by the cleaning lady. It was never just “helping out.” He simply couldn’t bear for her to face even the slightest setback. And this ten-year-long, dead-end relationship? I didn’t want it anymore.

I walked out of the Registrar’s Office and took a cab back to my apartment building. The elevator ascended to the seventeenth floor. I stood at my door and pressed my thumb to the fingerprint scanner. The screen flashed red: “Fingerprint not recognized.” I tried again, red letters again. I typed in the code, my birthday — a six-digit number I’d used for ten years. “Incorrect password.” I tried his birthday. “Incorrect password. Two attempts remaining.” I pulled my finger back. He’d missed our wedding registration, but he remembered to change the lock code. The hallway was silent, the lock’s blue indicator light blinking. I leaned against the wall, a cold dread creeping up my back, vertebra by vertebra. The elevator chimed. Ethan stepped out, Chloe walking half a step behind him. Her left index finger had a pink Hello Kitty band-aid, but her manicure was perfectly intact. “Where have you been?” Ethan’s first words weren’t an apology when he saw me. “I called you six times. You didn’t answer a single one.” He frowned. “Do you know how worried I was?” Chloe peeked out from behind him, her voice light and soft. “Ethan, is Summer mad… It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have asked you for help…” The finger with the band-aid fluttered in front of his eyes. Ethan immediately turned back. “It’s not your fault, Chloe.” He turned to me, his tone softening. “She’s so clumsy, she scratched her finger with a broken nail. I just helped put a band-aid on it. It’s just a small thing.” I didn’t respond. I sidestepped between him and Chloe, walking straight to the lock. “What’s the code?” “…352716.” The door opened. I walked straight to the liquor cabinet. On the top shelf, a bottle of whiskey, its label yellowed and curling at the edges. He’d bought it ten years ago, saying we’d open it on our wedding day. I took it down. “What are you doing with that?” Ethan followed me into the living room. “You said we’d drink it on our wedding day.” “Right, so put it back,” he said. I inverted the bottle. The amber liquid splattered onto the carpet, soaking in fast, leaving a large, dark stain. The entire living room filled with the dull, sour smell of fermentation, clinging to my nostrils. “Summer!” He rushed over to snatch the bottle, but it was already empty. The last few drops fell from the neck, landing on his shoe. “What’s wrong with you?” “Ethan, this is the third time we’ve scheduled to get married.” “I explained, Chloe hurt her hand.” “We won’t make it to that day.” I placed the empty bottle on the coffee table. His face flushed, a vein pulsed at his temple. “Unbelievable.” He spat out the words and turned toward the entryway. Chloe stood there, unmoving, her fingers tugging at her sleeve, her gaze flickering toward me. “Chloe, go inside and rest. Don’t mind her.” He put an arm around Chloe’s shoulder, and they both went into the master bedroom. The door closed, leaving only the wine stain and the sour smell in the living room. I went to the study and pulled open the drawer. My driver’s license, passport, copies of the apartment deed. I took each item out, one by one, and put them into a canvas tote bag. My phone vibrated. Chloe’s new post on Instagram. A photo of the master bedroom’s king-sized bed, with a dark gray suit sleeve draped over a chair in the top right corner of the frame. It was captioned with a sun emoji and a smile. Posted three minutes ago. I opened my contacts. Ethan. Swiped left. Delete. Opened our chat, then blocked him completely. The screen jumped back to my contacts list, his profile picture gone. I zipped up my canvas tote bag and placed my phone face down on the desk. The drawer was empty. The liquor cabinet was empty. My contacts list, empty too.

At seven the next morning, the moving truck pulled up downstairs. Two movers came up with me. I used yesterday’s code to open the door and told them to start with the study. As I passed the master bedroom, the door was ajar. I pushed it open. Chloe stood in front of the full-length mirror, wearing my wedding dress. A white satin haute couture gown. Custom-made in Paris last year. The fabric alone cost eighty thousand. She was turning sideways, admiring the curve of the skirt, but when she heard the door, the smile on her face froze instantly. “Sum-Summer… I was just trying it on…” She took a step back, her heel caught the hem, tearing a slit in the lace. I pulled out my phone and snapped two photos of her and the tear in the dress. Footsteps echoed on the stairs. Ethan rushed down, first stunned at the movers, then saw me standing at the master bedroom door. “What are you doing?” “Moving my things,” I said. “Is this really necessary?” He blocked the doorframe, his tone softened, trying to concede. “Cool down. I’ll take you to get married tomorrow, okay?” Chloe said softly from inside, “Ethan, I didn’t mean to wear it…” “Chloe, it’s okay. Go change back.” Ethan turned to soothe her, then lowered his voice toward me. “Tomorrow. I promise.” I didn’t look at him. I pulled out my phone, opened the calculator, and turned the screen toward his face. “This gown’s fabric alone cost eighty thousand, labor another one hundred twenty thousand, plus custom fees, the total was two hundred thirty-six thousand. She tore the hem. With depreciation and damage, I’m charging you one hundred fifty thousand.” Ethan’s expression froze for a second. “What are you talking about?” “Payment.” “She’s just a kid.” “One hundred fifty thousand. Bank transfer or cash.” He stared at me, his mouth twitching. “Fine.” He pulled out his phone and flashed his bank account balance at me. One hundred sixty-three thousand, one hundred. In ten years, I’d put far more than that into this home. That was all he had left in his account. Before he could transfer the money, his phone rang. The caller ID flashed: Mom. I put it on speakerphone, and his mother’s voice boomed out. “Summer. Ethan told me you’re causing a scene again? Chloe’s just a young girl, she doesn’t know any better. You’re older, you should be more understanding. It’s just a dress.” I reached out and hung up the phone. Ethan’s mouth opened. “You…” I turned and walked into the master bedroom, stopping in front of Chloe. She had already half-undressed, the white satin piled at her feet. I bent down, picked up the wedding dress, and grabbed the scissors from the coffee table. One snip, and the ripping sound of lace echoed in the room. “Summer!” The cold glint of the scissors flashed across the satin, and pieces of white fabric fell onto the floor. Chloe clapped a hand over her mouth and retreated to the corner. By the time Ethan rushed in, the last piece of the skirt hem tore away in my hands. The fragments fell in front of his feet. “Two hundred thirty-six thousand.” I put down the scissors. “She wore it, and your mom said I was petty. So no one gets it.” I turned and walked into the living room. On the coffee table was the bill I’d painstakingly compiled last night: ten years of transactions, every date, amount, and purpose, printed on three pages. “Take your time looking.” My canvas tote bag slung over my shoulder, I took my suitcase from the movers. Ethan stood amidst the wreckage, his mouth open, no sound coming out. The scissors lay at his feet, their metal surface reflecting the fluorescent light, cold and stark. I walked to the door. The door slammed shut, the loud bang echoing back from the hallway, making my feet tingle. The elevator doors were open, the movers deferentially stepping aside. I dragged my suitcase in and pressed the ground floor button. In the last second before the doors closed, I heard the sound of a door pulling open from the end of the hallway. But the elevator was already descending.

In the hotel lobby, the manager recognized me immediately. He blocked the entrance to the banquet hall, a look of distress on his face. “Ms. Summer, the venue has been changed.” “Changed to what?” “Chloe’s birthday party.” My fingers tightened around my bag strap. I had personally booked this venue six months ago. The deposit, the floral arrangements, the lighting — every single payment came out of my personal account. Ethan hadn’t said a word to me. “Show me the receipt,” I said coldly. The manager wrung his hands, trying to bluff his way out. “Ethan instructed…” “I want to see the receipt,” I interrupted him. He couldn’t argue, so he pulled out the booking contract. In the “Payer” column, my name, in stark black and white. I snapped a photo of the contract and dialed hotel security. When the banquet hall doors swung open, it was a lively scene inside. Chloe sat at the head table, wearing a pink poofy dress, surrounded by seven or eight of Ethan’s relatives. Someone handed her a gift, others held up phones to take photos. A three-tiered champagne tower stood tall, the top glass still fizzing with fine bubbles. When she saw me, she froze for a beat. Then she smiled. That perfectly practiced curve of fragility, innocence, and panic. “Sum-Summer?” She instinctively recoiled half a step into the crowd. I didn’t look at her. I walked straight to the sound control panel, and yanked out the power cord. The music stopped abruptly. The moment the current died, the speakers emitted a sharp, screeching static. Someone’s hand trembled, knocking over a champagne glass. The entire hall fell silent. Ethan rose from the back row and strode to me, his face ashen. “What are you doing?” “Canceling the venue.” “There are elders here…” “You used my money,” I cut him off. “To host her birthday party?” He froze. I realized he clearly thought the company had covered the cost. He probably hadn’t even checked the payment records. “Admin booked it,” he said, a hint of guilt in his voice. I slapped the contract onto a table. The paper landed on the red tablecloth, covering Chloe’s unopened gift box. “See for yourself who paid.” He looked down, his Adam’s apple bobbed. People in the hall began to whisper. One of Ethan’s aunts frowned and spoke up. “Ethan, what’s going on?” He didn’t answer. Chloe’s eyes, on cue, began to well up. She clutched the sleeve of an aunt next to her, her voice quivering perfectly. “I didn’t know… I really didn’t know it was Summer’s venue…” Her nose was red, her lashes glistening with tears. I didn’t spare her a glance, turning to the manager. “The contract is here, I’m the payer. Clear the hall.” The manager hesitated for two seconds. He looked at the contract, then at Ethan, before finally nodding to security. Waiters began clearing tables. Someone didn’t stabilize the champagne tower while moving it, and the bottom glasses clattered against the table edge. The crisp sound of shattering glass echoed, and spilled wine pooled across the table. Balloons were deflated one by one, collapsing onto the carpet. Chloe finally ran out, covering her face. Several relatives scrambled after her. Ethan stood amidst the wreckage. His hands clenched into fists, silent. I retrieved the contract and turned to leave. Behind me, he spoke, his voice low. “Are you satisfied?” I didn’t stop. “I’ll remember this. At next week’s project meeting, you’d better have a clear head.” I pushed open the lobby’s glass doors. The sunlight outside was intense, making me squint. I stood on the steps and pulled out my phone. Mr. Davis’s business card from the rival company was still tucked into my phone case. Before dialing, my throat tightened slightly, but my hand was perfectly steady. It connected after two rings. “Mr. Davis, this is Summer.” “Regarding the proposal we discussed last time, I’d like to schedule a meeting.”

Monday’s project meeting lasted forty minutes. Ethan announced Chloe would be taking over the core project I was leading. No one in the conference room made a sound. He asked if I had any objections. “None,” I replied calmly. Throughout the afternoon, I meticulously organized three years’ worth of project documents and personally handed them to Chloe’s desk. She accepted them, smiling as she said, “Thank you, Summer.” I nodded, returned to my desk, placed the voice recorder behind the pen holder and pressed record. Four days after Chloe took over, the core database crashed. That night, the client sent a letter of accountability. I counted the zeros after the loss amount three times. Ethan called me into his office. His tie was loosened halfway, his forehead slick with sweat. “You go deal with the client.” “Ethan, this isn’t my project anymore.” “But you know the process.” “Chloe knows it too. You put her in charge.” He slammed his palm on the desk. “You don’t know what’s going on?” I knew perfectly well. The voice recorder was put there precisely for this day. Every incompetent instruction Chloe gave, every wrong call she made over those four days, all of it was recorded. “You want me to take the fall?” He didn’t speak. His silence was an admission. I stood up. “Fine. I’ll handle it.” He leaned back in his chair, his shoulders visibly slumping in relief. I left his office, but I didn’t go to the client. I opened my phone and went into the company-wide WhatsApp chat group. Two hundred thirty-seven people. I dragged the compressed files into the chat window: recordings, screenshots, original client communication logs. Each file was timestamped and identified by the operator. My finger hovered over the send button, a cold prickle running through it. A second later, I pressed it. Phones across the entire floor vibrated simultaneously. The group chat was silent for a few seconds, then messages flooded in rapidly. Someone tagged Ethan, someone tagged Chloe, others just typed a string of ellipses. Chloe sprang up from her desk, frantically tapping her screen. She tried to recall them. Thirty-seven files. The recall window had long since closed. By the time Ethan burst out of his office, I was already standing in the center of the hallway, holding two items. One was my resignation letter. The other, a collective resignation statement from the core team, with eight signatures, not a single one missing. His steps skidded to a halt in front of me. “Summer, are you insane?” “No.” I handed him my resignation letter. He snatched it directly. In front of everyone in the hallway, he tore it in half with both hands. The paper ripped into fragments, white confetti fluttering onto the dark gray floor. “You think you can survive without this?” His voice was already ragged. “What about the client? What about the channels?” The sound of leather shoes on floor tiles echoed from the end of the hallway. The receptionist led a man in a sharp suit down the hallway. The cover of the folder in his hand bore the major client’s corporate logo. In the bottom right corner, a red official stamp was stark against the paper. “Mr. Ethan Hayes?” “…Yes.” “This is a legal notice from our firm.” The man’s tone was all business. “Regarding Ms. Summer’s departure as your company’s core project lead, per Article 17 of our contract, our firm officially terminates all ongoing collaborations with your company.” “All further matters will be handled directly with Ms. Summer’s team.” Ethan’s hand trembled as he reached for it. I turned and walked toward the elevator. My heels crunched over the scattered paper fragments, each step a faint whisper. The elevator doors opened. I stepped inside and pressed the basement floor button. In the last sliver of space before the doors closed, Ethan was still frozen in place, not moving an inch. The legal notice dangled from his hand. The resignation letter he had so carelessly torn now lay in fragments, being scattered by the hallway’s draft, drifting toward his feet. And the elevator doors in front of me had already closed completely.

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On our third anniversary, Liam booked the most exclusive cruise ship in Seattle and proposed to my adopted sister, Rachel Snow, in a live broadcast streamed across the entire internet. My phone still held a message he had sent half an hour earlier: “I love you, go to bed early.” On the screen, he knelt on one knee, holding a pink diamond, his eyes filled with a tenderness I had never seen directed at me. “Rachel, from today forward, you are my only wife.” The comments section went wild. Everyone called it a match made in heaven. I stood at the cruise ship’s entrance, looking at the plain wedding band he had slipped onto my ring finger three years ago. Half an hour earlier, after sending that message, he had added another. “Chloe, the three years are up. Tomorrow, I’ll give you what you are owed.” I raised my hand, wiggled the ring, and let out a laugh. “Liam, I have received your ‘settlement.’” From today on, I will return every bit of humiliation you inflicted upon me, inch by inch. Chapter One It was the third year of my secret marriage to Liam Caldwell. He had booked Seattle’s most luxurious cruise ship to propose to Rachel Snow, live-streaming it across the entire internet. Liam, CEO of Caldwell Enterprises, a man usually so cold and reserved, was now on one knee. He held a dazzling pink diamond, his eyes filled with profound emotion. “Rachel, from today on, I will let everyone know that you are my only wife.” The comments section was flooded with envy. Everyone was exclaiming it was perfect love. My phone screen was still paused on the message Liam had sent half an hour ago: “Still busy tonight, I’ll be staying home. Go to bed early, don’t wait up for me.” Watching the deeply affectionate man on the screen, a wave of nausea churned in my stomach. We had registered our marriage three years ago. That very night, he suddenly told me that the Caldwell family’s rules were strict; to inherit the company, he had to maintain a single image for three years, or all his assets would revert to the family. “Chloe, I’m sorry to put you through this for three years. Once I inherit Caldwell Enterprises, I promise to give you the most spectacular wedding imaginable.” His tender whispers felt like yesterday, but today marked the end of those three years. He did indeed hold the city’s most spectacular ceremony, but the bride wasn’t me. It was Rachel Snow, my adopted sister. I turned off the live stream and changed into a simple black dress. Pulling open a drawer, I found our marriage certificate, neatly placed there from three years ago. I didn’t cry. My hands didn’t even tremble. Half an hour later, I arrived at the cruise ship dock. Tonight was a socialite gala for the city’s elite. Using my identity as the heir to Hayes Group, I slipped past security unnoticed and walked into the ballroom, which was adorned with white roses. On stage, Rachel was in tears, nestled in Liam’s arms, letting him slip the priceless ring onto her ring finger. I stood in the center of the ballroom, my expression calm, and clapped my hands. The sharp sound was strikingly out of place amidst the romantic music. Everyone’s gaze instantly focused on me. The smile on Liam’s face froze. Rachel flinched, instinctively burrowing deeper into Liam’s embrace, and spoke with a sniffle, “Chloe Hayes, why are you here? Today is Liam’s and my happy day. Are you still mad at me?” Liam pulled her closer, and the tenderness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a bone-chilling coldness as he looked at me. Before he could speak, I directly pulled out my marriage certificate and handed it to several uniformed police officers who were already waiting nearby. “Hello, I’d like to report someone for bigamy.” Police sirens, I realized, had started wailing from the dock. The romantic, beautiful proposal scene instantly plunged into dead silence and chaos the moment the police rushed in. Chapter Two The police officers took my marriage certificate, verified it, and then looked sharply at the man on stage. “Mr. Caldwell, this lady has presented a valid marriage certificate, accusing you of bigamy. Please cooperate with us and return to the station to assist with the investigation.” The surroundings immediately erupted in whispers. The guests’ murmurs surged like a tide. “Chloe Hayes must be crazy, right? How could she have Mr. Caldwell’s marriage certificate?” “It must be fake, right? How could Mr. Caldwell marry her?” Rachel clutched Liam’s suit lapel, sobbing, “Liam, I’m scared… How could Chloe do this to us?” Liam patted her back, then turned to stare at me, his tone flat, as if looking at a stranger. “Officers, this lady is my wife’s sister. She’s been working long hours and hasn’t been mentally well, suffering from severe delusions.” He pointed to the certificate in my hand. “This marriage certificate is one she fabricated herself. You can easily verify it with the official system.” He said it so confidently, so calmly. His cold words felt like a blunt knife tearing at my heart. I looked at the man I had loved for three years, and a chill ran from my toes to the top of my head. “Liam, look me in the eyes and say that again.” I dug my nails into my palms, determined not to show any weakness. “Our three-year marriage was just a delusion?” “Enough! You disgraceful spectacle!” A furious roar rang out. A sharp pain shot across my cheek. My biological father, Martin Hayes, had rushed over at some point and slapped me hard. The force of it made my head snap to the side, and a trickle of blood immediately seeped from the corner of my mouth. “Today is Rachel’s engagement ceremony. Why do you have to choose today to cause a scene? Are you only satisfied if you ruin your sister’s happiness?” Martin Hayes pointed a trembling finger at my nose, red with rage. Wiping sweat from his brow, he handed his business card to the police officers, forcing a smile. “I apologize, officers, this is all a misunderstanding. We’ll take her home now and discipline her strictly. We won’t waste public resources.” Before I could react, two Hayes Group security guards rushed forward, roughly twisted my arms behind my back. A sickening pop as my shoulder dislocated, and excruciating pain shot through me. I bit down hard, refusing to utter a sound. Martin Hayes snatched my marriage certificate from the police officer’s hand and, in front of everyone, ripped it to shreds with a loud riiiip. Red paper confetti scattered across the floor, looking like an absurd funeral. All this time, Liam merely watched, cold-eyed. He didn’t even say a single word on my behalf. Instead, he meticulously wiped away Rachel’s tears and gently cooed, “Be good, Rachel. I’ll take you to the hospital for a check-up first. Don’t hurt yourself.” The Maybach sped off. Martin Hayes shot me a look of disgust and waved his hand. “Drag her home. Unless she’s taught a lesson, she won’t know who’s really in charge of Hayes Group.” Chapter Three The air in the house was thick with the damp smell of incense and the musty scent of rotting wood. The sound of the belt whipping against my back grew heavier with each strike. I bit down hard, my nails digging into the flesh of my palms, refusing to make a single sound. Cold sweat mixed with blood quickly soaked through the back of my black dress. It wasn’t until he had broken the second belt that Martin Hayes finally stopped, breathing heavily. He threw the belt to the ground in disgust, taking a hot towel from the maid to wipe his hands. “Stubborn and disobedient, no amount of beating seems to get through to her.” He spat. “Lock the door. No water, no medicine for her. Let her reflect properly in here.” The door slammed shut, plunging the house into a deathly silence. I slumped weakly onto the cold stone floor, my back burning as if on fire, my consciousness beginning to dim. I don’t know how much time passed before the heavy door was pushed open again. A faint beam of light shone in, and the sound of footsteps on the floor grew closer. I struggled to open my eyes and saw Liam standing over me. He had changed into casual clothes and carried a white medical kit. He knelt, and his long fingers reached for my bloodied back, his brow slightly furrowed. I managed to gather my strength and abruptly shifted backward, avoiding his touch. “Does it hurt?” He sighed, a rare trace of tenderness in his voice. “Chloe, you were too impulsive. What good did causing a scene at an event like that do you?” I forced a smile. My throat was as dry as if I’d been swallowing sand. “So, Mr. Caldwell himself has come to play peacemaker. I suppose this beating was worth it.” Liam’s eyes darkened. He took a document from his briefcase and handed it to me. Hayes Group Share Voluntary Waiver and Transfer Agreement. “Sign this,” Liam’s tone was unequivocal. “Rachel’s heart isn’t well; she was startled on the cruise ship today and almost fainted at the hospital just now.” I looked at the agreement, feeling nothing but absurdity. “She almost fainted, so you want to take away the Hayes Group shares my mother left me, just to make her happy?” “Chloe, you’re capable. Even if you lose everything, you can still make your mark in the industry.” Liam tried to persuade me earnestly. “But Rachel, without me and without Hayes Group, she can’t survive. If you give her the shares, she can secure her position at Hayes Group.” “This is also for your own good. If you sign, I guarantee you’ll live comfortably for the rest of your life. We can… still be like before.” He even tried to take my hand. Looking at his handsome but utterly hypocritical face, tears finally streamed down my face, mixing with the bloodstains. “Liam, for three years, you said we were secretly married for the inheritance, and I believed you. You said you wanted me to be your invisible strategist behind the scenes, and I did it.” “And what’s the result? You’re taking my achievements to elevate Rachel, and now you want to strip me of my last possession to provide for the love of your life?” I laughed, a desolate, piercing sound. “What if I don’t sign?” Liam stood up, looking down at me. The fleeting tenderness in his eyes vanished, replaced by the cold ruthlessness of a businessman. “Chloe, in this family, no one will stand by you.” He turned and left, the door slamming shut. The deafening sound of the closing door shattered my last illusions about him. Chapter Four The next morning, the door was roughly pushed open by a maid. I was dragged out of the house. When I returned to my second-floor bedroom, the hallway was piled high with my books and clothes. Inside the room, several workers were busy. Liam stood in the center of the room, directing the workers, “Paint this wall pink. Replace the bed with a custom soft mattress. Rachel has a bad back; she can’t handle hard surfaces.” I endured the searing pain in my back and rushed to block the workers. “Liam! This is my room!” Liam blocked me with one hand, his brows tightly furrowed, his eyes filled with impatience. “Rachel just got out of the hospital. The doctor said she needs the room with the best lighting, and yours is the only south-facing one in the villa. Be good, don’t always argue with her over such trivial matters.” “Trivial matters?” I pointed to the mess on the floor. “This is my home! Am I to be thrown out like a dog the moment she returns?” “Take Chloe Hayes away. Don’t let her hold up the workers.” Liam didn’t even bother to spare me another glance. Two burly men easily hoisted me up and threw me out the villa’s front gate. I walked the streets, feeling completely lost. The cold wind blew, and the scabs on my back wounds, which had started to heal, re-opened as they stuck to my clothes, making me tremble uncontrollably. When I came to my senses, I was standing downstairs from the investment company I had founded myself. But when I tried to use my employee badge to open the access gate, the turnstile flashed red frantically. The receptionist, a young woman, walked over awkwardly, gulping nervously. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Caldwell issued a notice this morning under the board’s name. You’ve been suspended.” “What’s the reason?” I stared intently at her. “The reason is… leaking commercial secrets, and unstable mental state, making you unsuitable to continue in a management position.” I pushed her aside and, ignoring their protests, rushed towards the general manager’s office. Through the transparent floor-to-ceiling windows, I saw Rachel, dressed in a designer power suit, sitting in what used to be my chair. Liam stood behind her, gently holding her hand as she signed a document. Rachel seemed to sense something and turned, seeing me standing outside the door. Her hand trembled, and the hot coffee she was holding instantly spilled onto the desk, splashing her hand. “Ah! So hot!” she cried out. Liam’s expression changed drastically. He immediately grabbed her hand, blew on it, then sharply turned, his eyes like daggers through the glass, piercing me. I pushed the door open, a cold laugh escaping my lips. “Liam, you’re putting someone who can’t even read a financial report in this position. Are you trying to ruin Hayes Group, or are you trying to destroy my life’s work?” Liam continued to meticulously wipe Rachel’s hand with a wet wipe, then spoke coldly, “Rachel has great talent. She just needs a chance to prove herself. Chloe, have you forgotten even the most basic rules now?” Rachel huddled in Liam’s arms, her eyes red, her voice as fragile as a small white flower in a storm. “Chloe Hayes, I know you look down on me. But I’ll try hard to learn… Liam says I’m smart, I won’t disappoint him…” Just then, Martin Hayes entered the office with several security guards. “Enough! Haven’t you caused enough embarrassment? Throw her out! Don’t let her step foot in this building again!” The security personnel roughly grabbed my arms and dragged me out. In the struggle, my bag fell to the floor, its contents scattering everywhere. A delicate blue velvet box rolled out, conspicuously gleaming on the polished marble floor. Inside it was the engagement ring Liam had given me three years ago. Liam’s gaze lingered on the box for a moment, his expression complex, but in the end, he said nothing, merely holding Rachel tighter. Under everyone’s gaze, I was thrown out of the Hayes Group building like a madwoman. My knees scraped against the hard concrete, instantly drawing blood. I propped myself up, looking up just in time to see the Hayes Group news conference being broadcast live on the giant LED screen outside the building. On the screen, Liam, with Rachel in his arms, faced countless flashing lights, his spirits high. “I am proud to announce that Miss Rachel Snow will officially assume the role of Executive President of Hayes Tech. The highly anticipated AI project was, in fact, Rachel’s original idea; she is the true soul behind our team.” I looked at Rachel’s bashful face on the screen, and in my chest, it felt as if the last flicker of warmth in my heart died out. That project, it was a plan I had devised after researching countless documents. Now, it had become her stepping stone to success. Chapter Five Dragging my injured leg, I walked through half a block of hotels, only to be met with apologetic glances from the front desk staff. “I’m sorry, Miss Hayes, your ID shows it’s been suspended in the system, so we can’t process your check-in.” “All your bank cards have been frozen. The system indicates you are a high-risk credit client.” I clutched the invalidated cards in my hand and sat down on a street bench. The cold rain soon soaked my hair. I couldn’t help but let out a low laugh, tears streaming uncontrollably. Liam, ever so thorough. He didn’t need to physically break my leg; he just needed to sever all my financial resources and identity from society. He was sure that once I had nowhere left to turn, I would eventually come back begging him. A black Maybach slowly pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down, revealing Liam’s handsome, yet nauseating, face. “Get in,” he uttered, two cold words. I didn’t move. Liam pushed open the car door and, without a word, shoved me into the passenger seat, locking the door. The car sped away, driving into a high-end, secluded private apartment complex. Inside, he poured a glass of hot water and placed it in front of me, his tone finally softening a bit. “Chloe, as long as you don’t appear in front of Rachel and upset her, this will be your home from now on. I’ll transfer money to your account annually, enough for you to live very comfortably.” He sat beside me, reaching out to stroke my cold, damp cheek, a trace of nostalgia in his eyes. “We had something special, Chloe. Besides the title, I can give you anything.” The nausea in my stomach surged to the top of my head in that instant. I violently grabbed his hand and, with all my strength, bit down hard! My teeth sank into his flesh, blood instantly spread, and my mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood. Liam cried out in pain and instinctively threw me off. I crashed into the hard stone table, hitting my forehead hard, and blood streamed down my temple. “Liam, you sicken me.” I spat out the blood, staring intently at him. “Don’t forget, those project proposals, they all contain my…” Liam clutched his bleeding hand, his eyes turning stone cold in an instant. “Chloe Hayes, are you threatening me?” Seizing the opportunity while he turned to the bathroom to tend to his injury, I grabbed my bag and, fighting off dizziness, rushed out of the apartment. I ran wildly into the nearest all-night internet cafe, my hands trembling as I opened a computer and logged into my private cloud. However, before I could send the backup of my original proposal to the industry regulatory authorities, the screen suddenly went black without warning. Immediately after, my phone vibrated, and I received a text message from an unknown number: “Don’t waste your effort.” A bottomless despair swallowed me whole. Before I could catch my breath, heavy footsteps suddenly sounded from the internet cafe entrance. Several uniformed police officers walked in, and cold silver handcuffs were directly clasped onto my wrists. “Chloe Hayes, you are suspected of embezzling Hayes Group’s commercial secrets and misappropriating five million dollars. Please come with us to assist with the investigation.” Chapter Six In the interview room. Liam watched me through the thick bulletproof glass, his expression indifferent. “Rachel is currently negotiating a major project with a top European venture capital firm; it’s crucial for her to secure her position as CEO of Hayes Group.” His voice came through the intercom, cold and ruthless. “At this critical juncture, neither Hayes Group nor Caldwell Enterprises can afford any scandals.” “Chloe, if you sign this voluntary confession, admitting that the five million was a personal misappropriation unrelated to the company, I will arrange for legal counsel to get you a suspended sentence. You won’t actually go to jail.” I clutched the phone tightly, my nails almost digging marks into it, tears streaming down my face. “For her future, for her reputation, you want to completely destroy my life?” “Liam, in your eyes, am I just meant to be a stepping stone?” Liam avoided my gaze. He looked at my disheveled appearance, and a fleeting struggle flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by coldness. “Rachel is fragile and can’t handle stress. You’ve always been strong, Chloe. You can get through this setback.” I’m strong, so I deserve to suffer. She’s fragile, so she can climb to success on my blood and bones. “I won’t confess to something I didn’t do!” I gritted my teeth, enunciating each word. Liam said nothing, merely pulled a photograph from his pocket and pressed it against the glass. In the photo was my best friend, Sarah Miller. She stood in front of her flower shop, while several uniformed fire and tax officials were posting eviction notices. “I know you’re not afraid of anything, Chloe.” Liam’s voice was devoid of emotion. “But I also know that Sarah’s flower shop is her family’s entire livelihood. I hear the fire department and tax office have been very strict lately. If they find any problems, not only will the shop be shut down, but people might also go to jail for a few years.” “And that old villa your grandmother left you, I hear it’s scheduled for demolition soon…” All my strength drained out of me in that instant. I slowly slid down the glass, kneeling clumsily on the floor. I could gamble with my own life, but I couldn’t bear the thought of the only person who was good to me having her life ruined because of my persistence. I closed my eyes, letting the warm tears flow into my mouth, bitter and astringent. “I’ll confess. I’ll do whatever you say.” A flicker of satisfaction crossed Liam’s face. “Tomorrow night is Hayes Group’s charity gala. You need to publicly apologize to Rachel and admit that you did these foolish things out of jealousy.” The next evening, I was bailed out of jail and taken directly to the event. I wore dirty, somewhat torn clothes, my hair disheveled, my face as pale as a ghost. On stage, Rachel, in a white designer gown adorned with tiny diamonds, looked like an untouched angel, holding Liam’s arm, basking in everyone’s admiration. A spotlight suddenly shone on me without warning. Whispers erupted, surging like a tidal wave. “Is that the older sister who embezzled money?” “I heard she was jealous of her sister and even made a false police report on the cruise ship.” “How shameless, she looks so scheming.” Martin Hayes walked onto the stage, his face filled with sorrow. “It’s a family disgrace, having such a disobedient daughter. But after all, she is blood. If she is willing to sincerely repent today, we are willing to give her one last chance.” Liam walked up to me and handed me a pre-written confession. I took the paper with trembling hands. Every word on it was designed to crush my dignity, my backbone, beneath the heel of a shoe. “I am a sinner. I was jealous of my sister. I coveted wealth.” I numbly read the last word, and the ballroom fell silent. Liam looked down at me, an almost imperceptible hint of coercion in his eyes. “An apology requires the right attitude.” Everyone’s gaze pierced me like needles. Rachel’s eyes held a triumphant gleam, and Martin Hayes’ face was cold. I looked at the man I had loved for ten years, feeling as if a hideous monster stood before me. Thump. My knees hit the cold, hard marble floor with a heavy thud. I knelt before Rachel. In that moment, I heard the sound of my backbone breaking. But in my heart, I also etched their names, stroke by stroke. Every single one of you who made me kneel, in the future, I will make you kneel and return it all.

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The day my brother, Gordon, was recognized by the wealthy William family and taken back, he knelt, his eyes red-rimmed, begging his parents: “Audrey is my only family. If she doesn’t come with me, I won’t go back.” In the end, his parents had no choice but to bring me back to the William household with him. When we first arrived, Scarlett, the fake heir who had lived in their place for over a decade, constantly targeted both Gordon and me. Gordon initially always stood by me, protecting me. But later, he gradually fell for Scarlett. “You should be more cheerful, like Scarlett. Why don’t you ever even smile?” Later still, he even forgot my birthday. I didn’t make a fuss, quietly baking a cake for myself. But as soon as I finished, he gave my birthday cake to Scarlett. “Scarlett’s cake got ruined on the way. Just give her this one.” I was so upset I didn’t speak a word all night. Seeing my mood, he looked annoyed, “Are you giving me attitude just because of a cake? Why didn’t you just say no earlier if you didn’t want to?” Scarlett pouted: “I told you before that Audrey is petty, but you wouldn’t believe me. I really don’t know why you brought this burden back.” This time, Gordon didn’t argue. Turns out, even he now thought I was a burden.

The cake I had painstakingly made for four hours was completely ruined, all messed up with forks. My name, which I had carefully spelled out with dried blueberries, was scooped out whole, smeared together with the cream-covered “Happy Birthday” card. Scarlett took a bite and threw it directly into the trash can. “What is this disgusting thing? It’s awful, so much worse than what our Michelin chef makes!” “You’re just picky.” Gordon complained, but his eyes were full of indulgence. “If you can’t eat it, just throw it away. I’ll have Kate make you another one.” “Okay, then it has to say in cream, ‘Gordon will be Scarlett’s dog for life’!” “Who told you to steal Mom and Dad’s love the moment you came back, and always go against me for this burden!” Gordon, who used to be completely at odds with Scarlett and couldn’t stand anyone calling me a “burden,” had no reaction this time. He just smiled, ruffled Scarlett’s head, and said helplessly: “Alright, alright, you win, it’s all my fault, okay?” They were intimate, as if no one else was around, making me feel like an outsider. In truth, being an outsider wasn’t wrong. Gordon was Anthony and Vivian’s biological son, who had been separated from them. Scarlett, though swapped at birth, had grown up in luxury in the William home, already forming deep bonds with Anthony and Vivian. The day Gordon was reunited with his birth parents, they couldn’t bear to send Scarlett away. From beginning to end, they were a family. I was the only extra one. I woke up this morning and saw Gordon’s Instagram post about him and Scarlett at the amusement park. I knew then that he had forgotten my birthday again. But even though I no longer wished for him to celebrate my birthday with me, why couldn’t I even keep a cake? The tears still couldn’t be held back, falling one by one to the floor. Gordon frowned, instinctively reaching out to wipe my tears as he used to. “What are you crying about?” Scarlett, however, suddenly let out a mocking laugh: “He just ate your cake, is that really worth all this drama? You’ve been giving him attitude all evening!” “I guess all your usual good behavior was just an act.” “Gordon, you spoil her too much, that’s why she’s become so demanding.” Gordon’s hand paused, then he pulled it back, his expression fading. “This isn’t your old home. You eat and live at the William family’s expense, it’s just a cake. Don’t be so petty.” Seeing the impatience in his eyes, my heart went cold. The day Gordon was taken back by the William family, I didn’t sleep all night. I was happy for him, but also vaguely afraid of being left behind. Noticing my emotions, he held me, promising again and again: “I will never abandon Audrey. From now on, my home is your home.” But now, he said, “This isn’t your old home.” In his heart, I didn’t know when, but I had already become a burden. “I understand.” I nodded vaguely, hearing my own voice tremble: “Gordon, I think I’ll move out after all.”

Scarlett rolled her eyes: “You make it sound like living in the William house is a hardship for you. No princess life, but acting like a spoiled princess!” “Now you’re trying to get attention this way.” Gordon’s face darkened. “What are you throwing a tantrum for?” I said softly, “I’m not throwing a tantrum. I just think dorm life would be better for my studies.” But Gordon’s tightly furrowed brow didn’t loosen: “I know you. Why now? Why not before? You’re just mad about that cake, aren’t you?” “Fine. If you really want a cake, I’ll have the kitchen whip one up for you in a bit.” After saying that, he didn’t bother with me anymore, instead laughing as he used a tissue to wipe a bit of cream from the corner of Scarlett’s mouth. “Still acting like a kid, getting cake all over your face.” “In Mom and Dad’s eyes, I’m their baby who never grows up. Got a problem with that?” “Alright, alright, you’re their baby who never grows up.” I couldn’t stand it anymore and silently went upstairs. After applying for dorm accommodation with my teacher, I looked at the carefully arranged room, a little lost in thought. The expensive and exquisite teddy bear on the bed, the valuable orchids on the window frame, the delicate bookshelf on the top shelf within reach, the soothing night light on the bedside table… Each item was something Gordon had carefully arranged for me when I first arrived at the William home. Even the room’s layout had been specially renovated to match my old room at home, fearing I wouldn’t get used to it. He had said: “This will be our home from now on. Our family was poor before, and I couldn’t even afford to buy you a proper bookshelf.” “Now that we have the means, I want to give you the best. I won’t let you suffer any more hardships.” How happy I was then. We moved into a big house we’d never dared to dream of; No longer worried daily about utility bills and daily expenses; No longer afraid that the roof would leak on a rainy day, or that the house would be flooded when we woke up. Gordon also wouldn’t have to work tirelessly day and night, scrambling to save up for my tuition. I thought everything was finally going to get better. But I never imagined that all of this would ultimately cost me him. A sudden knock on the door. When I opened it, a beautifully wrapped cake box suddenly appeared before me. Gordon peeked out from behind it. “Happy Birthday, Audrey!” Meeting my still red eyes, a flicker of guilt crossed his face: “Sorry, I just remembered it’s your birthday today.” For a moment, I thought I saw the brother who once had eyes only for me. I held the cake that had been placed in my arms, like a traveler almost frozen stiff in the harsh winter suddenly encountering a warm fire. I followed him into the room, my heart wavering uncontrollably. But that flicker of hope shattered again the moment I opened the cake box and saw it packed with mangoes. My lips trembled as I whispered, “Gordon, did you forget? I’m allergic to mangoes.” Gordon’s brows instantly furrowed at my words. For a long time afterward, I couldn’t forget the way he looked at me then. It was the look someone gives something troublesome.

Gordon “tsk”-ed, annoyed, “You should’ve mentioned if you couldn’t eat something, otherwise it’s a waste.” With that, he picked out all the mangoes from the cake one by one and pushed the remaining cake back toward me. “Scarlett specifically asked Kate to make this cake to apologize to you.” “She saw you liked orchids and specially emphasized an orchid design, thinking you’d like it.” “Her words can be harsh sometimes, but she’s actually soft-hearted. You should at least eat a little, or she’ll be sad.” My throat tightened. I didn’t even notice my fingernails digging into my flesh, drawing blood, as I murmured, “But I’m allergic to mangoes.” Gordon said impatiently, “That’s why I picked them out, right? Just eating a little won’t hurt.” Just then, Scarlett suddenly pushed the door open: “Audrey isn’t going to dislike the cake I had Kate make, is she? It takes this long to coax someone, she’s too high-maintenance!” Before I could say anything, Gordon spoke first: “It’s your gesture of goodwill, she’ll like it whether she wants to or not.” “Good! Once you’re done coaxing her, come downstairs! I wasn’t happy with the designs on the first few cakes Kate made, come help me finish them!” Gordon laughed, scolding, “Are you treating me like a trash can?” “No way! I think of you as my best brother, okay?” Gordon’s body stiffened. “You only call me ‘brother’ when you need something. I really owe you.” He said that, but his joy was practically overflowing. It turned out he really was just out of patience with me. If it were Scarlett, he wouldn’t think it was a waste, and just her calling him “brother” could make him so happy. Now, it seemed, no matter what I did, it only annoyed him. The next day, I quietly moved out of the William home and into the school dorms. I squeezed out only a little time for sleep each day. All my waking hours were spent either furiously studying or working multiple part-time jobs. This feeling of being swamped kept me from thinking about anything else. Until one day Gordon called me. As soon as I answered, I was met with a barrage of questions and accusations: “Audrey, why haven’t you come home yet?” “You used to be so sensible, and now you’re staying out all night!” I said softly, “I told you before, I’m living at school.” “Who gave you permission? Are you all grown up now, starting your late rebellion? Get back here now!” I remained silent. He waited for a moment and, getting no answer, laughed in anger: “Fine, then don’t ever come back! I’d like to see how tough you can be!” For the next while, I diligently attended classes, studied, and worked. As the SAT approached, I started to feel like things were finally falling into place. Three days before the SAT, Gordon suddenly called me. His voice was hoarse on the phone, tinged with a rare weariness: “Audrey, I’m in the hospital right now.” “You haven’t been home in a long time. I want to see you.” I instinctively gripped my phone tighter. Since his heart had gradually drifted towards Scarlett, this was the first time he had softened his tone and tried to make peace with me. Thinking of the early admission notification I had just received, and the money I had saved up during this time—enough for me to live independently. I hesitated for a long time before finally saying, “Okay.” This might be our last meeting, and I didn’t want to leave with any regrets. I wanted to tell him I got into a northern school. That I wouldn’t be a burden to him anymore, and I wouldn’t bother him again. But I never expected that when I rushed to the hospital and pushed open the door, I’d be greeted by a heavy slap across the face.

A strange woman, Brenda, lunged at me like a madwoman, punching and kicking me, tearing at my hair. “It was you who deliberately put a needle in her pencil case, making her cut her hand!” “The SAT is in two days! If she hadn’t found it in time and wasn’t seriously injured, my daughter’s life would have been ruined by you!” “You’re only eighteen, how can you be so vicious!” I struggled free from her, bewildered. “It wasn’t me, I don’t even know your daughter!” “Audrey, you’re still trying to argue! I saw you put a needle in her pencil case myself!” Scarlett suddenly stepped out from behind Brenda, pointing at me confidently. My face instantly went cold: “Why would I put a needle in her pencil case? You have no evidence, how dare you accuse me without proof?” “Who said there’s no evidence?” The moment I heard Gordon’s voice, my blood ran cold. He held up his phone and played a video. Due to the camera angle, the footage showed me discreetly walking to a classmate’s desk and seemingly putting something into their pencil case. I suddenly remembered that was me helping a teacher from the next class give a prize to their top-performing student. It was a pen, not a needle. But my explanation only earned me a retort from Brenda: “Scarlett saw it with her own eyes! We have witnesses and evidence, and you still won’t admit it!” I turned to Gordon, gritting my teeth as I asked him, “Did you see it with your own eyes too?” Gordon avoided my gaze, remaining silent for a long time, then his voice came out hoarse: “Audrey, you’re usually so jealous and always targeting Scarlett, but I never expected you to harm a classmate. I’m very disappointed in you.” I looked at him, unable to believe it. That sentence, without a doubt, confirmed that I had maliciously assaulted someone. “How can a school teach a monster like you! I’m going to expose you to your school and let everyone know what kind of person you are!” Brenda stormed out, slamming the door. I looked at Gordon, trembling uncontrollably. “Why?” He clenched his fists, his eyes filled with complex emotions, and whispered: “Audrey, Scarlett didn’t mean for it to get this big. She didn’t expect a joke to cause so much trouble.” “If Mom and Dad knew, they would be so disappointed in her. She’s used to being proud, and this is the first time I’ve seen her cry so sadly and fearfully.” By the end, his voice was even tinged with tenderness. I stared at him intently, word for word: “So you deliberately pretended to be weak to get me to come all this way, just so I could take the blame for Scarlett?” His breath hitched, and he spoke with difficulty: “I’ve already secured a fallback plan for you, nothing bad will happen to you.” The last bit of hope in my heart shattered. I don’t know how I got back to school that day. I only remember that when I arrived, along the way, I was met with disgusted looks and harsh whispers from my classmates: “It was her who deliberately put a needle in a classmate’s pencil case. It’s so dangerous to be in the same school as someone like that!” “Can’t they just lock people like her up and not let them out? It’s terrifying.” Before I even reached my classroom, I was called to the principal’s office. The principal personally pushed a document in front of me: “The victim’s family has made a huge fuss about this, forcing us to respond. Your early admission has been revoked.” “Furthermore, the school has unanimously decided to expel you.” I stood frozen, my entire body cold. I couldn’t understand why, despite trying so hard, I couldn’t hold onto the things that mattered to me. But ever since I returned to the William family with Gordon, it felt like I had been constantly losing things. Losing Gordon, losing my home, losing my early admission. In the end, even my school enrollment was gone. All I wanted was to leave quietly, but even that was so difficult. A message popped up on my phone. Gordon sent me transfer documents and two plane tickets: “There’s a school affiliated with the Williams in Seattle. I’ve already arranged for them to accept your transfer.” “It’s too late for the SAT, but with your grades, even if you study for another year, you can still get into a great school.” “After the SAT is over, I’ll go with you.” So, Gordon had thought of all the consequences, he knew the situation I might face. He still went ahead and ruined me to this extent for Scarlett. I stumbled out, clutching the documents, and stood at the school gate for a long time until the security guard shooed me away. After the SAT, I was dragging my suitcase, about to board a train. Gordon’s message popped up: “I’m already waiting for you at the airport. Where are you?” I sent him one last message: “I’m not going to Seattle with you. We’re done.” As soon as the message was sent, Gordon’s phone started ringing off the hook. I didn’t answer. I just blocked all his contacts. I turned and got on the train. Gordon, goodbye forever.

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Married for five years, Mark was, according to everyone on my X feed, the perfect husband. He never missed an anniversary, always with a surprise. Others envied me, but only I knew the truth. Those expensive gifts everyone raved about? All from some resale site. I used to think he was just frugal. Until one day, on a sudden impulse, I logged into his resale account. The transaction history showed the seller was his ex-girlfriend. It turned out the gifts I cherished were just discards Christina didn’t care for. In that moment, five years of deep affection became nothing but a cruel joke. I finally woke up. All his tenderness, all his love, had never truly been for me. He had never let go of his past. And I? I was just a subscription, a way for him to renew their love. My blood ran cold, phone clutched in my hand. The seller in the transaction history was always his ex-girlfriend’s name. Christina. My finger trembled as I scrolled and clicked on the link for the ring from five years ago. The product description clearly stated: “Engagement ring from ex-boyfriend, selling after breakup. Initials engraved on the inside. Please consider before purchasing.” My heart clenched. Unwilling to give up, I took off the wedding ring I wore every day and rubbed its inner surface repeatedly. Finally, in the most hidden corner, I felt the tiny engraving. It was her initials. This wedding ring had been with me for five years of marriage. I treasured it so much I’d carefully take it off and put it away even when washing my hands. Actually, the size wasn’t quite right. Once, it slipped off and got lost while skiing. I searched on my own in the snow all night. My hands and feet got frostbitten, and I almost needed an amputation. It turned out, all those promises of a lifetime, they were just scraps from someone else’s table. I flipped through the records. Christina had specified the origin of each item in the product details: “Selling unused items after breakup, gifts from an ex.” My pajamas from our wedding night? Her old clothes. All those exquisite pieces of jewelry, those designer bags over the years… Every seemingly thoughtful gift was just a witness to his story with another woman. I stood there, phone in hand, fingers icy. I asked him in a choked voice, as he stepped out of the bathroom: “Are all the gifts you’ve given me secondhand?” He casually looked up, drying his hair, his tone candid and indifferent: “Gifts are about the thought, and secondhand items are just as good. No need to waste money.” “Don’t be so materialistic like other women.” He thought I cared about the price, but he didn’t realize what sickened me was being a substitute, a cheap replacement, from start to finish. I finally couldn’t hold back the tears. “Why would you re-gift things you gave to Christina, to me?” He paused, his gaze flickered away. “She sold them at a good price, and the channel was verified…” “Christina and I are in the past. Can you stop being so dramatic?” I looked at him, utterly disbelieving, tears streaming down my face. “You bought back your ex-girlfriend’s engagement ring and gave it to me as my wedding ring, and I’m being dramatic?” He frowned. “Is a ring she’s worn not a ring anymore?” “Alright, I’m tired from work. Do you have to cause a scene over something so trivial?” Every word dripped with impatience and accusation. I watched him turn his back to me and fall asleep. My heart felt like it was being strangled by that ring, the pain so intense I couldn’t breathe.

Using that unique ID, I easily tracked down all of Christina’s social media accounts. Following the digital breadcrumbs, I found her long-inactive Ins account. It hadn’t been updated in years, but it was still linked to that familiar profile picture – Mark’s account. Her posts were, predictably, restricted. I thought for a moment, typed in Christina’s publicly listed birthday from her other social media and, just like that, it unlocked. It was packed with all of his and her past. In five years of marriage, Mark had never posted a single picture of me on X. Even on the day Harry was born, he posted “Grateful for the miracle of life,” but the accompanying picture was just a random stock photo he’d downloaded. But in this restricted feed, he posted Christina’s pictures for every holiday. She looked vibrant and full of life through his lens. Drooling in her sleep, getting ice cream on her nose, laughing so hard she had a double chin, crying with tears and snot running down her face… Anyone could see he was madly in love with her, every single expression. Unlike me, when I cried, he would just calmly say, “Wipe it off. You don’t look good like that.” There were several videos from when they were deeply in love saved in the album. He’d call her in a soft, doting voice, “My darling.” And me? From dating to marriage, he always just called me by my name. He never called me “darling.” I used to think he was just reserved, not good at expressing himself. But it was only because every time he said it, it felt like he was calling someone else. Unable to stop trembling, I shook him awake. “Mark,” I heard my voice, broken. “Can you call me ‘darling’ just once?” His sleepy eyes instantly cleared, his pupils constricted. He still couldn’t say it. He just whispered, “Stop it, go back to sleep.” I closed my eyes, my heart utterly disheartened.

The next day, Mark came home from work and immediately zoned out on the couch. Every day after work, he would sit there for ten minutes. Silent, no phone, no TV. I once thought it was just his way of relaxing. It was only today, looking at his empty, distant gaze, that I understood: his body was here with me, but his mind was miles away. A chill snaked up my spine, my voice dry. I blurted out: “Mark, who are you thinking about right now?” “Is it Christina?” His face instantly changed. “Are you done or not?!” “She’s getting married soon, why can’t you just let it go already?!” With that, he got up, grabbed his jacket, and slammed the door shut. A loud “BANG” echoed through the living room. His phone, which had slipped from his pocket, lay quietly in the couch cushion. I couldn’t help but reach for it and unlock it. The WhatsApp interface was open to his chat with Christina. The messages were frequent, especially recently, with her wedding approaching. Mark was bustling around, a hundred times more invested than he ever was for our wedding. He helped her pick out wedding dresses, finalize the hotel menu, and even painstakingly reviewed the wording for the invitations. When we got married, his best man helped him choose his own suit. Scrolling further up their chat history, I felt like a beggar who had stumbled into a lavish feast, utterly out of place. His messages to me were always the same few things: “Working late tonight.” “Okay.” “Alright.” I used to think he just had a bland personality, not good at online communication. Every time I shared a pretty cloud, a cute dog, or a funny meme with him, he never replied. But it turned out he forwarded all of those to her. They could chat back and forth for ages, even about trivial things like “The pork chop for lunch today was really good.” His capacity for emotional connection was always there; he just never shared a single ounce of it with me. I remembered when Christina lost her job. He pulled every string to get her into his own company, with a salary even higher than mine. I was fresh back in the workforce after having Harry, suffocating from the office politics, and I begged him to help me transfer. He coldly refused: “I’m just helping a friend; there’s nothing more to it. You’re my wife, I need to keep things professional.” Christina cried in the breakroom, red-eyed, because her boss was giving her a hard time. When Mark found out, he stormed into the office and ripped that boss a new one, almost getting physical. Then he transferred her to work directly under him. But when my boss publicly humiliated me, and I came home crying for help. He just shrugged it off, still playing his game: “Isn’t that just how workplaces are? Just deal with it.” I couldn’t help but say, “He said some really nasty things.” He didn’t even look up: “You’re just too sensitive.” My heart sank further and further, dropping into an icy pit. I looked at our son playing. His little face, so much like Mark’s, made the pain almost unbearable, choking me. Where was I supposed to go from here?

On Christina’s wedding day, Mark went to help set up the venue at 3 AM. Harry suddenly started convulsing with a fever. I rushed out of the house, clutching my burning hot child, calling Mark dozens of times on the way, but he never answered. I handled the registration, the payments, held Harry’s eyes closed for his shots… all by myself. Tears mixed with sweat streamed down my face. It wasn’t until evening that I saw a photo on a mutual friend’s X (Twitter) feed. During the ring exchange, I saw a familiar figure in a suit standing among the guests. Just from his silhouette, I knew it was him, and he was crying. Meanwhile, on my phone, there was a message from him, sent just hours earlier: “If the kid has a fever, just take him to the hospital. I’m not a doctor.” In that moment, I could no longer deceive myself. For these five years, I was just a placeholder. Right after we got married, Christina lost a big investment and racked up debt. She called, weeping. Mark transferred two hundred thousand dollars without a second thought. That money was supposed to be our wedding gift fund, the down payment for our house. When I questioned him, he retorted, with a defiant air: “She’s in trouble and she came to me, what was I supposed to do?” Later, looking at his bank statements, I realized it wasn’t the first time. She opened a business, and he provided the startup capital. She bought a car, and he was the guarantor. Even her utility bills were being paid from his card. Yet for five years of our marriage, he always claimed he was “short on cash,” and we even skipped our honeymoon. One night, she called late, saying her boyfriend was out of town, and the power was out, making her scared. Mark got dressed and left immediately. I blocked his way at the door: “She’s almost thirty, and she’s afraid of the dark?” He pushed me aside: “You don’t understand, she has anxiety. If it gets bad, something could happen.” Later, I learned her so-called “anxiety” was just being unable to sleep alone. During my postpartum depression, I spent half a year sleepless, crying all night, standing on the balcony and thinking of jumping. He only had one cold line: “Are you just bored?” My heart truly died. In those five years, my light was never lit. He poured everything into ensuring her happiness, so I would grant him his “deep affection” for her. I called my lawyer, my voice calm: “Please draft a divorce agreement for me.”

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Ethan Thorne spent over a million dollars customizing a vintage wedding dress for me from Paris, saying I’d wear it on our wedding day. He called it a once-in-a-lifetime romantic gesture, promising me the perfect dream. But when I tried it on, I couldn’t even zip it up. The waist was a size too big, yet the bust felt suffocatingly tight. I thought the designer had mixed up the measurements and flipped up the skirt to find the tag. That’s when I noticed a few words embroidered in silver thread on the delicate tulle closest to the heart. [Sera, forever.] I thought it was a romantic blessing from the French designer. Until I scrolled past a ballerina on Instagram. She was wearing the prototype of this very wedding dress, with a caption that read: [Thank you. Even if I’m not the bride, you hid my name in the place closest to your heart.] And her ID was “Sera.” I calmly took off the million-dollar wedding dress. I’m not getting married. The custom haute couture wedding dress, air-freighted from Paris, hung in the most prominent spot in the VIP fitting room. Layers upon layers of silk chiffon, embedded with thousands of hand-sewn Swarovski crystals. Under the lights, it shimmered and sparkled, like an ethereal dream. The store manager, along with three assistants, carefully helped me put it on. “Miss Hayes, Mr. Thorne really outdid himself for you. He oversaw everything from design to final fitting, even personally selecting the lace pattern.” The manager sighed with envy as she adjusted my skirt. I looked at myself in the mirror, but a frown creased my brow. “The zipper won’t go up.” An assistant struggled for a long time behind me, sweat beading on her forehead. “Miss Hayes, have you gained a little weight recently? The waist is quite loose, but the bust and back are really too tight.” I didn’t say anything. My weight hadn’t changed much in years. I’d had a physical last week, and it was exactly the same. My figure had always been standard, but the cut of this dress was clearly for an extremely slender, almost flat-chested girl. “Maybe I haven’t rested well these past few days; I feel a little swollen,” I offered a casual excuse. “In that case, please take it off, and we’ll have the tailor add a bit of allowance.” The assistants helped me out of the dress. The heavy skirt piled onto the carpet. As I bent to lift the hem, my fingers inadvertently brushed against the sheer fabric on the inside of the bodice. There was a slight protrusion. I thought it was a loose thread, but when I flipped it over, I froze. In the spot closest to the heart, a line of words was intricately embroidered with incredibly subtle silver thread. [Sera, forever.] The silver thread gleamed with a cold, piercing light under the cool white lamps. “Miss Hayes, what’s wrong?” The manager noticed my changed expression and leaned in to look. “Oh, was this something Mr. Thorne specifically requested? Young couples these days love this kind of exclusive romance, embroidering each other’s names or vows into the wedding dress.” The manager smiled, a hint of suggestive amusement in her eyes. I didn’t smile. My name is Aurora Hayes. Ethan usually called me Rory, or my full name. Who was Sera? I clutched the tulle, my fingertips turning white. “I’m not trying it on anymore.” I let go, allowing the million-dollar wedding dress to fall to the floor. “Miss Hayes? We haven’t even altered the size yet…” “No need to.” I changed back into my regular clothes, grabbed my bag, and walked out of the bridal shop without looking back. Sitting in my car, I didn’t start the engine right away. Instead, I pulled out my phone and typed “Sera” into Instagram’s search bar. In the age of big data, no secret can stay hidden. Especially not when Ethan Thorne’s social circle was so small. After just a few pages, an account verified as a “Young Ballerina” popped up. The profile picture was the back of a woman in a white swan ballet tutu. Account ID: Sera. I clicked on her profile. The top pinned video was posted a week ago. In the video, she was dancing gracefully in a rehearsal room, wearing an initial prototype almost identical to the haute couture wedding dress I had just tried on. Because it was a sample, it wasn’t encrusted with crystals, but the cut, style, and even the direction of the lace were exactly the same. She was incredibly slender, with a flat chest and a delicate waist. The dress fit her perfectly, seamlessly, as if it were a second skin. The video’s caption read: [He said he would make my dream a reality. Thank you. Even if I’m not the bride, you hid my name in the place closest to your heart.] A comment below asked: [Wow! Such a beautiful wedding dress! Are you getting married?] Sera replied: [No, it’s a gift from a very important person. Unfortunately, I can’t wear it to walk towards him.] I stared at the screen, a sudden wave of nausea washing over me. Three years. I’d been with Ethan Thorne for three years. I thought I was his carefully chosen fiancée. It turned out I was just a stand-in, forced to wear someone else’s hand-me-down wedding dress. A stand-in who didn’t even fit the dimensions.

I drove home. This apartment, located downtown, was the wedding home Ethan had bought. Opening the door, I was met with a panorama of black, white, and gray. Hard, cold marble floors, a black leather sofa, and a minimalist metal coffee table utterly devoid of any warmth. Before we moved in, I’d enthusiastically shown him soft furnishing catalogs. I’d said I wanted a cream-colored fabric sofa, a fluffy rug in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a few brightly colored oil paintings. Ethan had looked up from his computer, his brow slightly furrowed. “Rory, those things are too cluttered, too tacky. A home needs quality, not cheap coziness.” I compromised. Over three years, I had compromised countless times. I thought it was just his occupational hazard as a CEO, accustomed to rigidity and efficiency. Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t that at all. I walked to the living room’s floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the gray sky. The lock chimed. Ethan was back. He wore a impeccably tailored suit, his tie loosened slightly, his eyes holding their usual fatigue and indifference. “How was the wedding dress fitting?” He asked casually as he changed his shoes. “It didn’t fit,” I turned to face him. “What didn’t fit?” He walked to the island counter and poured himself a glass of ice water. “The size was wrong. The waist was too big, the bust too tight.” Ethan paused his drinking, then frowned. “That was cut by the Paris atelier according to the golden ratio. Have you been slacking on your workouts lately, is your posture off? Haute couture is about the person adapting to the dress, not the dress adapting to the person.” His tone was condescending, lecturing. The person adapting to the dress. I suddenly felt like laughing. “Really? Because I feel like that dress wasn’t tailored for me to begin with.” Ethan put down his water glass, his gaze hardening. “Aurora, what kind of tantrum are you throwing now? That wedding dress cost me $1.2 million; do you know how much effort I put in to get the chief designer to rush it? Can’t you be more reasonable?” “Reasonable?” I looked at the face I had loved for three years. He was handsome, wealthy, and in outsiders’ eyes, a flawless fiancé. But at this moment, I only felt a profound unfamiliarity. “Ethan, was ‘Sera’ embroidered inside the dress part of the golden ratio?” The living room fell silent. Ethan’s pupils constricted, and the muscles in his jawline tensed sharply. But he quickly regained his composure, his voice not even wavering. “You saw it.” It wasn’t a question; it was a statement. “Yes, I saw it,” I stared into his eyes. “Aren’t you going to explain?” Ethan quirked his lips, a look of extremely perfunctory helplessness. “That’s just a friend. The initial design draft of this dress was something I drew many years ago to help her achieve a stage dream. With the wedding approaching quickly, I just used that old draft. The words? The studio messed up, thinking it was the bride’s name. I’ve already had someone sent to remove it.” “A friend?” I took a step closer to him. “A friend whose name you need to embroider on your fiancée’s wedding dress, closest to her heart?” “Aurora!” He raised his voice, clearly losing patience. “I told you, the studio made a mistake! Do you have to be so petty about a trivial matter? The invitations have already been sent, the wedding venue booked. Are you trying to make us a laughingstock by pulling this stunt now?” He was always like this. Whenever I questioned him, he’d label me “unreasonable” or “petty.” As if I was always the one at fault. He sighed, pulled a velvet box from his pocket, and held it out to me. “Alright, don’t be mad anymore. I passed an auction house today, and this necklace looked perfect for you, so I bought it. Consider it my apology.” I didn’t take it. The box was open. Inside lay an incredibly luminous South Sea pearl necklace. I looked at the pearls and said softly, “Ethan, I’m allergic to pearls; they make my neck break out in a rash. I’ve told you three times.” Ethan’s hand froze mid-air. A flicker of panic finally crossed his eyes. “I’m sorry, I… I’ve been so busy lately, I got it mixed up.” “Got it mixed up?” I curled my lips. “Did you get it mixed up, or did you subconsciously think the person standing here should be Sera, the one who loves pearls?” In every one of Sera’s photos, she wore pearls around her neck. Ethan slammed the box shut, his face turning ashen. “Aurora, you’re being utterly unreasonable!” He turned and walked towards his study, slamming the door shut with a bang. I stood in the empty living room, not shedding a single tear. My heart had simply died. When all the details came together, the truth was often uglier than imagined.

The next day, Ethan went to the office. I didn’t go to work. I walked to the study door and tried the handle. It wasn’t locked. Ethan had a habit: he didn’t like anyone touching his things, especially the safe at the very bottom of his desk. He said it contained the company’s core secrets. I used to believe him implicitly, even carefully avoiding it when I cleaned. But today, I wanted to open it. I knelt in front of the safe, looking at the keypad. Six digits. I typed in my birthday. A red light blinked; incorrect password. I typed in our anniversary. Incorrect password. I typed in Ethan’s own birthday. Still incorrect. I paused for a long time, my finger hovering, trembling slightly. Then, I took out my phone and pulled up Sera’s account. Two years ago, she had posted a birthday video; the date was October 27th. I took a deep breath and pressed 102799 (she was born in ‘99). Click. A green light illuminated, and the heavy metal door sprang open. In that instant, I felt something inside me shatter. Inside the safe, there were no company confidential documents. No multi-million dollar contracts. Only a few exquisitely crafted storage boxes. I opened the first box. Inside was a thick stack of ballet performance tickets. Every single one was for Sera’s performances. The dates ranged from three years ago all the way up to last month. On the 15th of last month, Ethan told me he was going to London for a business trip to discuss a crucial merger. But the location on that ticket was the Paris Opera House. I opened the second box. Inside was a thick stack of boarding passes. Ethan’s name and Sera’s name were printed side-by-side. Destinations spanned the globe. I thought he was working hard for our future, countless nights I worried about his exhaustion. It turned out he was just traveling the world with another woman. The last box contained a sketchbook. I opened it. Inside were all his hand-drawn designs. Wedding dresses, evening gowns, everyday wear. The bottom right corner of each one read: [To my little swan, Sera.] The very last drawing was of that million-dollar haute couture wedding dress. The note beside it read: [Waist 23 inches, Bust 31.5 inches. She’s too thin; add a few layers of silk so it doesn’t look flimsy.] My waist was 25 inches, my bust 34.5 inches. No wonder I couldn’t wear it. No wonder he thought I was “lacking exercise.” I put everything back into the safe exactly as I found it and closed the door. When I stood up, my vision blurred, and I had to hold onto the desk for a long time to steady myself. Three years. Over a thousand days and nights. I thought I was the most intimate person in his life. It turned out I didn’t even have the right to enter the most secret corners of his heart. I was just a shield. A perfect fiancée he used to appease his parents and the outside world when he couldn’t openly marry Sera. I pulled out my phone and called my best friend, Chloe Green. “Chloe, are you free for lunch? Let’s meet up.” “What’s wrong? Your voice is so hoarse, do you have a cold?” “No,” I looked at the sunlight outside the window. “I just feel like it’s time for me to wake up.”

Chloe and I met at a discreet coffee shop. After hearing my story, Chloe was so furious she almost crushed her coffee cup. “That jerk, Ethan! How dare he?!” Chloe suddenly stood up, drawing glances from people around us. I tugged at her sleeve. “Sit down, don’t get so worked up.” “How can I not get worked up?!” Chloe lowered her voice, her eyes red. “Aurora, how have you been surviving these past three years? You even gave up your beloved design career for him! You willingly went to his company to be an uncredited ghost designer. Which of his new brand ‘Thorne’s’ hit products wasn’t something you stayed up all night drawing? How dare he treat you like this?!” She was right. I used to be an award-winning new designer. When Ethan was starting his business, his funding ran out, and he couldn’t afford good designers. Without a second thought, I resigned from my high-paying job and joined his company. To avoid suspicion and not overshadow him, none of my designs were ever credited. The outside world thought Ethan Thorne was a business prodigy and a design genius. Only I knew that those stunning works were born from my tireless efforts, stroke by stroke. “Chloe, crying won’t help,” I stirred my coffee, my eyes as cold as ice. “I didn’t ask you to meet me today to cry.” Chloe paused, looking at me. “Then what do you plan to do? Break off the engagement just like that? That’s letting those two off easy!” “The engagement is definitely off,” I put down my spoon. “But I’m not letting him off easy.” “How so?” “The wedding venue is the top hotel in the city, the deposit was fifty thousand. That wedding dress, $1.2 million. And other miscellaneous preparation costs, it all adds up to nearly two hundred thousand.” I looked at Chloe. “All that money came from my parents.” Ethan had said his company was having cash flow problems, and my parents, feeling sorry for me, had pulled out their life savings without hesitation. “If I unilaterally announce the breakup now, according to the contract, none of those deposits will be refunded.” Chloe gasped. “Damn it, he used your parents’ money to make a wedding dress for his ‘white moonlight’?!” “Exactly. So, I need evidence,” I calmly analyzed. “I need to prove that he was at fault first, that he violated the principle of fidelity in our engagement. Only then can I, through a lawyer, get all that money back, down to the last penny.” Not only that. I also wanted to reclaim everything that belonged to me. My designs, my hard work, my dignity. Chloe looked at me, her anger slowly turning to heartache. “Aurora, you’ve changed.” “People always have to grow up,” I smiled faintly. “I used to think love could sustain you, but now I realize that money and a career are the most reliable things.” “What do you need me to do?” Chloe asked without hesitation. “Help me contact the best lawyer in the city for divorce and contract disputes,” I looked at her. “The tougher, the better.” “No problem. Leave it to me.” After parting ways with Chloe, I didn’t go home. Instead, I went to a shopping mall. I bought several sets of brightly colored clothes. Red, bright yellow, royal blue. I threw all those black, white, and gray clothes into the trash. Ethan loved minimalism. But I, Aurora Hayes, was born to love passion and vibrancy.

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As I massaged my half-paralyzed husband, Brandon Carter, a flicker of sensation ran through his left foot. I was ecstatic. I immediately called Dr. Miller for a re-examination. The result came back: “Still nothing. The chances of your husband ever walking again are practically zero.” I gritted my teeth. “It’s okay. I’ll take care of him for the rest of my life.” Tears blurring my vision, I headed to work. Halfway there, I realized I’d forgotten my car keys and had to turn back. Through the crack in the door, I saw Brandon, who was supposed to be confined to his hospital bed. He was standing, pinning Skylar Reed against the wall, kissing her with frenzied abandon. “How much longer do we have to lie to her? Being together always feels so risky, it’s driving me crazy.” “Just a little longer. In a few days, I’ll figure out a way to fake my death. Then, we can take the money and move abroad.” My mind cleared instantly. So, his suicide attempt five years ago had all been a sham. It was just a ploy to escape his company’s debt crisis and spend every waking moment with Skylar. I stood there in silence for a long time, then walked into Dr. Miller’s office. “I’ve made up my mind. I’m stopping my husband’s treatment. Proceed directly with the amputation.”

When I pushed open the door, Brandon was, as usual, pale and frail, huddled in the corner of the bed, his eyes devoid of any life. “The nurse told me you went to bother Dr. Miller again. I’m a cripple, there’s no need to waste medical resources.” He always used to say such disheartening things. On the surface, I’d pretend to be strong and try to cheer him up, but in reality, I’d hide in the bathroom, crying countless times. My hand clenched around the small silver cross I held. My gaze drifted to the trash can. A sickening, sweet odor hit me instantly. Inside, unmistakably, were several freshly used, utterly disgusting condoms. So, Brandon had been putting on an act for me all along. Five years ago, his company failed, leaving him deeply in debt. Creditors hounded him, pushing him to the brink of ‘suicide’ by jumping off a building. No matter how I pleaded, even getting down on my knees, he remained utterly unmoved. He supposedly plummeted from the fifteenth floor, landing in a pile of mud, which left him permanently paralyzed. I, too, suffered from extreme shock and lost our seven-month-old baby. That period was the most helpless and darkest time of my life. During the day, trying to secure orders, I’d force myself to tolerate disgusting, lecherous old men, drinking with them at business dinners. After work, I’d rush to the hospital, trying to talk Brandon out of his constant suicidal urges. Everyone told me to give up. “He blew all his money himself; it has nothing to do with you. You’re young, find someone else and marry them quickly.” “A man who threatens suicide every other day is useless to keep around. Let him go.” Even Brandon’s parents tried to persuade me to leave him. “He’s lost all his fight. Living like this is just torture for him. Don’t push him any further.” But I refused. I gritted my teeth and held on, reaching this point. The company, on the verge of bankruptcy, I brought back from the brink. Whenever I had time, I’d sit by Brandon’s bedside, connecting him with renowned orthopedic specialists from all over the world. The silver cross in my hand was something I’d prayed for him in church. Yet, before I could even offer it, it was met with scorn. “More of this useless junk, trying to guilt-trip me.” In the last few days, his temper had grown increasingly volatile. He snatched the cross from my hand and threw it out the window. Afterward, he hung his head, covering his face with his hands, tears streaming down like a wounded animal whimpering. “Eleanor, if you really love me, just give me a bottle of sleeping pills. I’m tired. I want to sleep forever.” I swallowed the bitter mockery rising within me. His feigned despair was a stark contrast to the man who had been fiercely kissing Skylar against the wall. It made me frown. “I won’t let you die.”

My throat felt like it had been scoured with sandpaper, every word tasting like blood. He’d lied to me for so long. At the very least, I wouldn’t let him die that easily. Leaving the hospital, I wandered aimlessly down the street. There was hurt in my heart, but even more, there was resentment. We’d been together since our school days, from prom night to our wedding day. Right after we graduated from college, he took my hand and we went to the courthouse to get married. In that cramped, damp basement apartment, we spent several happy years. Even when we had to rely on discounted food nearing its expiration date, I never complained, never felt it was a hardship. Then, when he had his ‘accident,’ I used my slender shoulders to prop up the company we had built together. For years, I’d been covering his parents’ expenses and all our daily bills. As a wife and a daughter-in-law, I’d done everything humanly possible, earning praise even from outsiders. To treat Brandon’s legs, I worked three part-time jobs a day, once even collapsing from exhaustion. Looking back now, I was such a fool. Sacrificing myself for a man full of lies—it wasn’t worth it! At ten that night, I returned to the dream home we’d prepared for our marriage. A three-story, beautifully furnished house with a front and back garden. I’d only helped with the decorating and buying furniture, but I’d never spent a single night there. Most of the time, I’d slept in the hospital hallway or on my office sofa. The moment I opened the door, I was stunned to find the interior completely redecorated. The sleek, designer leather sofa was now buried under an assortment of plush toys and stuffed animals. On the table, there was a new set of cartoon couple mugs, one pink, one blue—a sickeningly sweet, mismatched set. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to be patient as I walked into the bedroom. Our wedding photos had been taken down and tossed haphazardly into a corner, covered in a thick layer of dust. My clothes were all gone from the walk-in closet. Even my treasured wedding gown, the one I loved most, had been cut into pieces and thrown into the trash. My feet moved uncontrollably to the bed, gazing at the messy, wrinkled sheets. I vaguely guessed what those two had been doing here not long ago. Suppressing my disgust, I fished out a pair of women’s lace panties from between the sofa cushions. No doubt, their activities hadn’t been confined to just the bedroom. Instantly, a surge of bitter bile rose in my stomach. I rushed to the bathroom, clutching the toilet bowl, and vomited for a long time. It was only when my phone rang that I wiped away my tears and answered. My usual butcher called, kindly reminding me. “Ms. Vance, I saved you a prime cut of steak today. Perfect for your husband’s grilled steak. When can you come by the market to pick it up?” My voice was calm. “No need.” The butcher paused, sounding surprised. “That’s not like you. You used to wait in the longest lines to get the freshest beef bones for him. What’s wrong today? You don’t want it, even when it’s ready?” A sharp pang went through me. “I won’t be needing it anymore.” Soon after I hung up, I heard the front door downstairs open. I held my breath, like a thief, and hid inside the empty closet. As the sounds of intertwining moans and whispers grew closer, I peered through the crack and saw Brandon’s face. And, the naked woman in his arms.

Skylar Reed. She was a college acquaintance, two years my junior. Every semester during finals week, she’d always pester me for my class notes to cram for her exams. At first, Brandon actually had a bad impression of her, often complaining to me that she was cutting into our date time. But gradually, things changed. He’d openly compliment Skylar’s dresses, saying she looked so ‘innocently sweet.’ Once, I even walked in on them coming out of the men’s restroom. Skylar was crying, calling him a ‘bad boy’ and complaining that he clearly didn’t know how to treat a lady gently. So, they’d been hooking up since then. About two hours later. Brandon carried Skylar out of the bathroom, one arm around her, and stood by the bed, attentively blow-drying her hair. They fooled around for a while before Skylar playfully pushed his shoulder, pouting dramatically. “It was Leo’s first day of preschool today, and you, his dad, didn’t even show up. Honestly, you’re so useless sometimes.” Brandon pulled her close. “It’s all Ellie’s fault. She always takes forever to leave, wasting so much of our time together as a family.” “Don’t be mad, baby. How about I get you some new jewelry to make up for it?” “What about Leo?” Brandon chuckled, holding up three fingers, swearing solemnly. “For the next week, I’ll handle all the school pickups and drop-offs for Leo. Happy now?” My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms, yet I felt no pain, only numb fury. I wondered, how could a person be so shameless? Brandon had been faking his illness for eight years, giving me the cold shoulder for eight years. Yet, behind my back, he and Skylar had even had a child. I’d seen the child before. Brandon’s parents had lied, claiming he was a distant relative’s kid staying with them temporarily. But they doted on him like their own flesh and blood grandson. Every time I went to drop off their allowance, the kid would jump out, deliberately squirting me with a toy water gun, spitting out nasty words like ‘bad lady’ or ‘you stole my daddy.’ Like mother, like son, I thought bitterly. At that moment, Skylar, clearly aroused again, tangled herself around Brandon and they went at it for what felt like hours. Afterward, she smugly cupped his face, her gaze drifting to my wedding photo on the wall. It was a blatant declaration of ownership. “Brandon, do you know why I threw out everything else in this house that belonged to Ellie, but kept that photo?” Brandon smirked, playfully rubbing her small nose. “Are you being naughty again?” “Oh, yes! I want her to see with her own eyes that every unremarkable night, you and I are here in this new house she decorated, entwined, inseparable.” “She got to you before I did, the nerve! When it was clear we were the perfect match.” “Still, seeing her get played for a fool all these years by us? I finally got my sweet revenge.” “Speaking of which, don’t you feel sorry for her? She’s practically withered into an old hag trying to find a cure for you. She’s not even thirty and she’s got huge patches of gray hair and a face full of wrinkles. Honestly, every time I see her, it makes me cringe.” “That was her choice.” Brandon playfully twirled a strand of Skylar’s hair. “I, pretending to be paralyzed, lying in bed, was much more pitiful. Why didn’t you ever feel sorry for me?” “You’re awful.” … The night stretched on, long and dark. Some slept in peaceful embrace, others felt their hearts rip apart.

The next morning, for the first time in what felt like forever, I didn’t show up at Brandon’s bedside, carrying a warm breakfast. Instead, I leisurely went shopping and treated myself to a few beauty treatments. My once mottled, waist-length hair, streaked with gray, was chopped into a chic, short bob, then dyed a rich chestnut brown. It was sharp and stylish, yet still carried a quiet elegance. The fine lines around my eyes, once etched by relentless exhaustion, were now gently fading, thanks to a hefty dose of self-care. Just like my surging love for Brandon, once gone, it would never return. When I arrived at the hospital entrance, I suddenly didn’t want to go in. Brandon had hurt me too deeply; even seeing him felt superfluous. Just then, my assistant Chloe called urgently. “Ms. Vance, for that overseas construction materials deal, should we still have Mr. Davison, the Vice President, handle it as usual?” In the past, I only wanted to stay by Brandon’s side, hoping that the first person he hugged when he stood up would be me. So, even if sending a VP to sign was unprofessional and would inevitably cost the company almost half its potential profits, I didn’t care. But people grow, don’t they? You have to learn to love yourself first before you can truly decide who else is worthy of that love. This time, I firmly shook my head. “No need. I’ll go myself.” The moment I hung up, I made eye contact with Skylar Reed, who was walking towards me. The atmosphere was awkward for a few seconds. She flashed a sickly sweet smile, chirping, “Ellie, what a coincidence! You’re at the hospital too?” Her feigned surprise was sickening. I had no intention of making small talk and turned to leave. But Skylar raised an eyebrow, blocking my path. Then, she deliberately let slip a crumpled ultrasound report from her hand. “Ellie, I’m pregnant and can’t bend over. Could you pick that up for me?” I remained unmoved, my gaze fixed on her abdomen, my breathing tight. “Pregnant so soon? And where’s the baby’s daddy?” Skylar touched her belly with a blissful expression, smiling sweetly. “This is our second baby. His dad is overjoyed! Even though he can’t always be with me and Leo, his love is always there.” “He bought us several houses, and even set up a trust fund of billions for both kids. Oh, and tonight’s city-wide fireworks display? That’s what his dad arranged to cheer me up. He always says women are born to be pampered.” Skylar gushed, her hands animated with excitement. She paused for a second, then looked at me with a sympathetic expression. “I’m so sorry, Ellie, I brought up your sore spot. Brandon’s been sick for so long, you must be so lonely, aren’t you?” I forced a smile, my voice flat. “I’ve arranged a new treatment plan for him recently. He’ll be able to stand up soon. I’m finally seeing the light at the end of the tunnel.” “Really? Well, congratulations then.” She sneered as she walked past me. Before boarding the plane, I called Brandon. “Brandon, I won’t be able to stay with you for the next week. Company business needs me.” He’d always been a reserved man, but after his ‘illness,’ he’d become even more quiet and withdrawn. Now, though, his voice was filled with joy and excitement. “Took you long enough to get smart. You should have given up on me and focused on work ages ago, Ellie. Honestly, I always preferred you as a fierce, capable businesswoman.” I chuckled. “Alright, then I’ll live up to your expectations—a formidable businesswoman, undisturbed by trivial matters. But you have to promise me one thing.” “What is it?” His excited tone quickly flattened, morphing back into his familiar, impatient drawl. “I’ve arranged the latest treatment plan for you. Next week, will you cooperate with the doctor obediently? There’s a pre-surgical agreement; remember to sign it later.”

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After I was reborn, I saw my billionaire ex-husband, Anderson, again. He was leaning against his luxury car outside City Hall, asking me for a divorce. Then, he tossed me a black card. “There’s thirty million in this card. Plus, I’m giving you a villa and a sports car as compensation for the divorce. It’s enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life.” He paused, his expression a little awkward. “If you want anything else, as long as it’s not too much, I can compensate you.” In my previous life, I looked at his handsome face and refused to divorce him no matter what. As a result, his family humiliated me, and his mistress, Anya, beat me. He remained indifferent the entire time. Even when Anya tormented me to death, he only said coldly: “Finally dead. I can finally get my divorce.” This time, I calmly took the bank card and walked towards City Hall. “Okay, divorce!” Filling out forms, signing, stamping. The whole process took less than twenty minutes. The staff informed us: “There’s a 30-day cooling-off period. After that, both parties need to be present to pick up the divorce certificate.” I breathed a sigh of relief, turned to Anderson, and smiled. “Anderson, you’re a man of your word, right? We’re divorced today, so I can expect what you promised tomorrow?” After all, that was thirty million, plus my own house and car. Enough for me to live a good life this time. Unlike my last life, when I was so broke I couldn’t even scrounge up three hundred bucks. I was repeatedly humiliated by his family and mistress, and eventually died a miserable death on the streets. Thinking of the tragedy of my previous life only strengthened my resolve to live my own life well this time. Anderson turned and walked out. The driver, quick on the uptake, opened the car door. “The things I promised you will be delivered to your new address.” He bent down to get into the car, his dark eyes sweeping over me once more. “As long as you don’t try any tricks during the 30-day cooling-off period.” The car drove off into traffic and disappeared. I paid it no mind. I took out my phone, ordered a ride-share, and headed to my new place. A three-story detached house, with an artificial lake just beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. Anderson certainly spent a fortune to get rid of me. My previous self never had time to enjoy anything. This time, I immediately called a few friends over. My friends had just arrived, and we hadn’t even caught up yet, when the doorbell suddenly rang. I opened the door. It was Anya. Anderson’s mistress from my previous life. Because I refused to divorce, she couldn’t officially become his wife for decades. But she was no saint. She was an expert at manipulation, humiliation, and torment. On the surface, she put on a facade of being pure and innocent, but in my previous life, she was the one who hired people to kill me. “Can I help you?” Meeting my enemy, I naturally wasn’t in a good mood. Anya stood at the door, her gaze sweeping over my friends inside, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “Luna, I know you can’t accept divorcing Anderson, but there’s no need to be so self-destructive, is there?” She walked in, high heels clacking, looking down on me. “How can you invite these low-life friends to mess around in Anderson’s villa?” “What if someone with bad intentions spreads rumors? It would be an embarrassment to the Anderson family.” “Oh, I forgot. You were never really a classy person to begin with.” Hearing that, my best friend Mira’s face went white with anger. She sprang up, ready to stand up for me. But I held her hand and shook my head. Then, I stood up and walked over to Anya. “Done talking?” Anya looked at me, chin slightly raised, her eyes full of undisguised contempt. “Luna, I’m not attacking you, I’m thinking of your best interests, after all…” “Since you’re done, pay up.” I smiled, cutting her off, and held out my hand. She froze. “What?” “This house, Anderson gave it to me. It’s my private property now.” I pointed to the floor, then to where she was standing. “You walked in without permission and are standing on my property, bossing me around. Shouldn’t you pay me compensation?” Anya’s face darkened instantly.

“Are you really that broke?” Facing her incredulous question, I calmly nodded. “Yes, I’m broke. Is Ms. Anya perhaps going to offer me some extra financial aid?” “You!” She looked like she’d never encountered anyone as brazen as me. For a moment, Anya just pointed at me, unable to utter a single word. I tilted my head, smiling even more brightly. “Ms. Anya, a moment ago you were talking so eloquently about decency, propriety, and upbringing. So articulate.” “But when it comes to paying up, you’re suddenly speechless?” “Does your family consider not paying debts a sign of good upbringing, Ms. Anya?” At that, the room went silent for a second. Then, Mira let out a snort of laughter. “You…” Anya bit her lip, looking as if she had been terribly wronged. Unfortunately, Anderson wasn’t here, and no one here was falling for her act. Finally, Anya pulled a wad of cash from her bag, slapped it hard into my hand, and snapped. “Is that enough?!” With that, she turned and left. At the door, perhaps feeling embarrassed, she looked back at me and said. “Luna, you low-class trash! No wonder Anderson wants to divorce you?!” The door slammed shut. I didn’t mind. I counted the money. Sixty-eight hundred. Rich people really do have a lot of cash! I split the money among my friends. “No worries, let’s keep having fun.” The atmosphere livened up again. But Mira came over to me, looking at me with a touch of concern. “Luna, are you okay?” I shook my head. “Of course, I’m fine.” This is nothing compared to what I’ve been through. Anya’s tactics against me in my previous life were far more despicable, and I still made it through. Besides, this time I just want to live my own life. As long as Anya doesn’t push her luck, I won’t even bother with her. “By the way, Mira, are you interested in starting a studio with me?” I turned to her, stating my purpose. Mira was a brilliant student in college, and after graduation, her abilities at work were also exceptional. She had thought about starting her own business, but lacked startup capital, so she was stuck working for unscrupulous bosses. But this time was different. I had money! Anderson’s divorce compensation was a hefty thirty million! So, we hit it off immediately and decided to build our careers together. Day one of the cooling-off period. I got up early and spent the whole day with Mira exploring downtown to decide on a location. Suddenly, Anderson’s call came in. Seeing his name, I was momentarily puzzled. We were both sick of the sight of each other on divorce day. Why was he calling me now? But I answered anyway. “Can you please stop provoking Anya?” His voice was faint, devoid of emotion. I was standing in the middle of a crowd, surrounded by noisy hawkers. In my previous life, hearing him say that, I would have immediately started frantically explaining myself. But now, I just felt like he was wasting my time. I’d rather spend this time looking at more locations and finalize my store address. “Luna, I thought you agreed to the divorce because you wanted a dignified ending.” “But I didn’t expect you to be just like before…” “Anderson!” Listening to him, I cut him off directly. “As long as Anya doesn’t come looking for trouble, I won’t provoke her. You should spend this time managing her instead!” With that, I hung up without waiting for his response. Then, I blocked all his contacts.

Day three of the cooling-off period. Mira and I had explored several nearby streets, finally stopping in front of a newly developed art district. “Here?” Mira turned to me. “Yes,” I nodded. This street wasn’t the most bustling, but it had several high-end residential areas nearby, with a young consumer base that valued quality and personalization. Mira and I both studied design, so setting up a handmade craft studio here was perfect. Three days for location scouting, five for renovation, ten for opening. During those ten days, I slept only five hours a day, pushing the renovation team to meet the deadline, personally visiting building material markets to select materials, and contacting suppliers to negotiate raw material prices. Mira was responsible for brand design and online operations, while I handled offline implementation and the supply chain. Our division of labor was clear, and our cooperation seamless; we were like natural partners. Day ten of the cooling-off period, the store opened. But for the first three days, very few people came into the store. Occasionally, a few customers would come in, look around, touch things, ask the price, and then leave. Just then, Anya walked in, high heels clacking. “Luna, opening a store and blocking Anderson… are you playing hard to get, hoping to attract Anderson’s attention?” She looked around at the store’s decor, disdain evident in her expression. I ignored her and continued trying to attract customers. “Too bad, Anderson likes me for who I am, not for what I do. Copying me won’t work.” People nearby, hearing the gossip, couldn’t help but stop. I quickly introduced the unique features of our store to them. “Purely handmade and custom-made, one of a kind.” Seeing me ignore her, Anya got angry out of embarrassment. She swept all the handmade accessories from a display shelf onto the floor. “Thud—” The sound of shattering glass was particularly jarring in the quiet store. The customers were startled and quickly dispersed. Anya folded her arms, giving me a defiant look. I took a deep breath, pulled out a calculator, and started tallying the damaged items one by one. “Three pairs of handmade glass earrings, priced at $120 each, total $360.” “Two imported ceramic brooches, priced at $280 each, total $560.” “…” The calculator’s mechanical female voice called out the numbers, echoing repeatedly in the silent store. Anya’s expression changed from defiant to impatient. “What exactly do you want?” “Pay for the damages.” I stood up and turned the calculator screen towards her. “Twelve thousand three hundred.” “What if I don’t pay?” Anya sneered. I didn’t say anything, took out my phone, opened a video, and turned the screen towards her. In the video, Anya was in a lounge, punching and kicking a staff member, verbally abusing them. This was some dirt I had paid a lot for in my previous life when I was constantly at odds with her. “Celebrity bullying staff. If this gets out, will your upcoming endorsement deals still be safe? Can you still make it in showbiz?” I whispered in her ear. Anya’s face instantly went white. “Pay up.” I held the QR code for payment in front of her. This time, she didn’t dare say another word. She transferred the money quickly and efficiently. Seeing the money arrive, I gave her a standard smile. “Welcome back anytime.” Anya had a bitter taste in her mouth. She stomped her foot and left. Her little scene, however, actually brought more foot traffic to the store. When I tallied the sales that evening, we had our best day since opening. When we closed, an uninvited guest arrived. Anderson.

“Here to stick up for Anya?” Just like in my previous life, when she couldn’t win an argument, she’d go complain to Anderson about me. That was her only move. Too bad, this time I didn’t care about Anderson at all. Complaining to him was useless! “Why did you block me?” Anderson countered without answering. I frowned. “A good ex should act like they’re dead.” “After all, you don’t want me to bother you, do you?” He froze, his gaze at me a little complex. In my previous life, he would have just walked away. But now, he actually started looking around the store. “Good location, good craftsmanship, but business isn’t great, is it?” I was about to tell him to leave, but then I heard that, and my interest was piqued. “You have a solution?” Anderson made a name for himself at a young age, taking over Anderson Group at twenty-two and tripling its size in just a few years. When his name was mentioned in the business world, everyone admired him. Why wouldn’t I use an available expert? I’m not stupid. He glanced at me, a flicker of sadness in his eyes for a moment, then finally spoke. “You’ve changed a lot.” “Hey, people have to move on.” I answered casually, but my mind was only on the sales figures. I pressed him again, “So, do you have a solution or not?” He didn’t answer, just found a seat. After a moment of thought, he spoke. “I have a solution, but I never do business at a loss.” “How about this, I’ll invest my expertise for a twenty percent stake in your studio. If you agree, we can continue talking.” I turned to Mira, and she nodded at me. I immediately accepted. “Deal.” Anderson didn’t waste words, pulling a gold-embossed invitation from his suit jacket and sliding it across. “The Anderson Group’s Designer Invitation Exhibition is in five days. All the attendees are prominent figures from various circles. Your products don’t lack quality; they lack the right clientele.” He paused, then added. “Prepare well. If you have any questions, feel free to ask me anytime.” With that, he pulled out his phone and showed me the screen. Only then did I remember I had blocked him two days ago. I quickly pulled out my phone and unblocked him. He glanced at the notification that his contacts were restored, said nothing, and then left. The black Maybach drove away from the street corner. Mira poked my arm. “Luna, don’t you think Anderson is acting strange? Why is he suddenly interested in our little shop?” I looked at the invitation in my hand, not lifting my head, and casually said. “Because our shop has potential.” Mira opened her mouth, but ultimately didn’t press the matter. Day eleven of the cooling-off period. Mira and I arrived at the shop before dawn. We sifted through dozens of sketches, finally settling on three main showcase pieces. Mira and I didn’t dare be careless with any step of the handmade process. Just as we were busy, the door pushed open. “Luna, I hear you’re going to participate in the Anderson Group’s design exhibition?” Anya walked in, her stilettos clicking. “Wanna make a bet?” “If you can attract customers with your own work in this competition, you win. If not—” She paused, a smirk playing on her lips. “You’ll publicly admit, in front of everyone, that you opened this studio and started this business just to copy me and seduce Anderson. And then, you’ll never try to go after him again.” Mira’s face fell. Just as she was about to speak, I pressed her hand. I looked up, meeting Anya’s defiant gaze, and smiled. “And what if I do win?” Anya looked like she’d heard a joke. “Oh, please, Luna. That exhibition will be full of important people. Who would even bother to look at your little trinkets?” “Well then,” I put down my tools and said slowly, “If I win, you’ll promote my studio for free.” After all, the sales power of a popular celebrity is too good to pass up. Anya clearly didn’t take me seriously and scoffed. “Fine. I’ll be waiting to see you make a fool of yourself.” With that, she turned and walked out, her high heels clicking. Mira grabbed my arm, her face full of worry. “Luna, what if she sabotages us?” I patted her hand, reassuring her. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.” After all, starting a business is a high-reward, high-risk endeavor. Day fifteen of the cooling-off period, the day of the competition. I sent Mira a message on my phone. “I’ll be at the venue in twenty minutes. Where are you?” I sent the message, but got no reply. I called again. It rang several times, but no one answered. A strange panic began to set in. Maybe she’s stuck in traffic, I told myself. Just as I hailed a cab, my phone vibrated. It was an unknown number. “Is this Ms. Luna? This is the emergency center. Your friend, Ms. Mira, was in a car accident and is currently in critical condition. Please come as soon as possible.”

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