Author: Momo Chan

My husband Caleb’s mistress and I were in a car crash at the same time, but he chose to save her first. At the hospital, the doctor told me I had a miscarriage because I was taken to the hospital too late after the accident. “Caleb,” I croaked, “our baby is gone.” Caleb was standing at the door of the ward, holding his mistress, Daisy. Daisy only had a few scrapes. He frowned. “Willow, stop making a fuss. Daisy’s pregnancy is still delicate.” That’s when I finally saw it clearly. The woman he was protecting had a visibly rounded belly, at least four months along. He had publicly announced it was the posthumous child of “his fallen brother.” Later, from the next room, I heard the sounds of them making love. He gasped. “Daisy, I love you.” That night, I packed my bags, leaving the miscarriage report and two time capsules on the table. Inside the capsules were his promises. “I’ll cherish you my entire life, never let you down.” He had written those words himself three years ago. Before boarding, I pulled out my SIM card and broke it in half. Caleb, your child killed my child. This time, I don’t want you anymore.

Willow’s POV “Madam, your divorce decree with Mr. Owen has been processed as per his request.” Mr. Davies, the lawyer, respectfully handed me the final divorce papers. I took the papers, softly hummed, and stared blankly at them. “If you have no other instructions, I’ll take my leave.” I nodded, not speaking. The lawyer relaxed and immediately stood to depart. I gripped the divorce papers tightly, my mind buzzing, wanting to cry but unable to. My phone rang. It was Caleb. “Willow, did you get the divorce decree?” His voice was as deep as ever, but this time, it held a rare hint of tension. “Yes.” “It’s just a sham divorce, don’t worry about it. Once the scandal blows over, we’ll get remarried, okay?” He quickly added. “Okay.” He cautiously continued, “I’ll leave work early tonight. Want to go out for dinner?” “Sure.” Hanging up, I looked at the divorce decree in my hand and suddenly started to laugh. As I laughed, my cheeks grew cold, and tears dripped onto the paper. I was Caleb’s first love. In college, I was walking past the sports field when Caleb hit me with a basketball. From then on, Caleb started his relentless pursuit of me. He brought me breakfast every day and walked me back to my dorm from the library every night. I casually mentioned a cake shop I liked, and Caleb would drive halfway across the city and wait in line for three or four hours just to buy it for me. After graduation and starting work, to take care of me, he, who had never stepped into a kitchen, learned to cook. Later, I found out Caleb was the heir to the Owen family, one of the wealthiest in the country. But I was just an ordinary girl. My parents passed away, and I only finished my studies through scholarships and part-time jobs. How could someone from my background ever be worthy of the Owen family? So I broke up with him. Caleb refused. He waited outside my apartment building for seven days and nights, refusing to leave even when a severe storm hit. I watched his resolute figure from my window upstairs, standing in the pouring rain, and finally, my heart softened. To get his mother to agree to our marriage, Caleb pleaded with Eleanor for three days, enduring her furious disapproval and extreme conditions, until she finally gave in, and he married me three years ago. After we married, he spoiled me rotten. For my birthday, he booked all the giant screens across the city. For our anniversary, he chartered the most luxurious yacht for a trip out to sea. If I had a fever, Caleb would drop his overseas projects and fly back overnight. When I had period cramps, he’d rub my stomach all night, not sleeping a wink. The entire internet envied Caleb and my love story. Everyone said I was lucky, marrying into a wealthy family and marrying for love. Everyone praised Caleb as a rare good man. Every time I saw comments online, my heart swelled with happiness. This man had suffered so much for me; I wished I could give him the best of everything in the world. Yet, this very Caleb, two months ago, suddenly brought home a woman named Daisy. Caleb said, “This is my brother Oliver’s girlfriend. He was killed in the line of duty, and she’s pregnant. As his brother, I have to take care of her and ensure his child is safe.” I believed him. My heart ached for Daisy. I often visited her, chatting, cheering her up, taking her shopping, buying her gifts, diligently caring for her on Caleb’s behalf. But gradually, things started to feel off. Caleb and I had planned to go to the movies, but Daisy said she had a prenatal check-up, so our date was canceled. I was running a high fever, but Daisy called in the middle of the night, and Caleb immediately got up and left. His excuse was that Daisy had a nightmare about his brother. When I landed after a business trip, Caleb, who was supposed to pick me up, bailed again. Because Daisy was scared of thunder. I had to take a cab home alone in the pouring rain. No matter what we were doing, one call from Daisy could always make Caleb leave.

Willow’s POV I voiced my dissatisfaction once, but Caleb always used the same line: “Daisy is pregnant, and this is for Oliver’s child.” Though I felt wronged, I didn’t want to make things difficult for his brother’s widow. After all, it was a life. I thought, it’ll all be fine once the baby is born. Until the night before last, Caleb was with Daisy at a concert, and a reporter snapped photos of them supposedly kissing. The next day, media outlets rushed to report it. Suddenly, Caleb’s affair and the identity of his mistress became hot topics online. That day, I went to a private club to find Caleb, wanting to discuss how to handle it. As I approached the door of the private room, I overheard Caleb’s conversation with his friend. “Everyone knows about your situation. What are you going to do?” Caleb sat in the middle of the sofa, long legs crossed, his brow deeply furrowed. He was silent for a moment before speaking, “Willow and I will get a sham divorce first, so Daisy won’t be considered my mistress. Once the storm passes, I’ll remarry Willow.” His friend sounded incredulous, “You’re really willing to divorce Willow for Daisy?” “It’s just a sham divorce. Willow will always be my wife.” “I really don’t get it. You clearly love Willow so much, how did you end up having a child with Daisy?” Caleb looked down, twirling a lighter in his hand, and after a while, he said, “Daisy came from a humble background, and to make ends meet, she worked as a hostess at a high-end club. She reminds me so much of how Willow used to be, struggling but resilient and brave.” “Being with her, I feel like I’m back to the beginning of my relationship with Willow.” I stood outside the door, my mind exploding. What brother’s girlfriend? What brother’s child? It was all a lie. That was Caleb’s own mistress and child. “Aren’t you afraid Willow will find out?” His friend asked. Caleb’s face darkened, and he was silent for a longer moment, “Oliver is on a mission. He won’t be back for several months.” “As long as he doesn’t come back, Willow won’t know.” “Once Daisy has the baby, I’ll send her and the child abroad.” I leaned against the hallway wall, utterly cold, my limbs refusing to obey. My heart felt like it was being violently seized and then ripped apart, making me break out in a cold sweat. On my way here, I was still thinking that, for his brother’s sake, I would endure it and work with him to figure out how to handle the public outcry. But it turned out his brother wasn’t dead at all. And Daisy, whom I had genuinely cared for for two months, wasn’t his brother’s girlfriend at all. She was my husband’s mistress. The shopping trips I took her on, the gifts I picked out for her, the comforting words I spoke to her, all became a complete joke. Caleb, who had constantly vowed to love only me forever, cheated on me after three years of marriage. He neglected his wife at home to have an affair with a woman who reminded him of my past self, and they even had a child. Not only that, he brazenly brought his mistress right in front of me, confidently expecting me to care for her. Caleb, you are truly audacious. That evening, Caleb returned home and, as expected, brought up the sham divorce to calm the public. His words were sincere, his tone gentle, and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, “It’s just temporary. Trust me.” Caleb probably expected me to cry and make a scene. Instead, I accepted it without a word. Caleb visibly relaxed. He thought he had appeased me. He didn’t know that what I agreed to wasn’t a sham divorce at all. What I wanted was a real departure. I snapped back to reality, put away the divorce decree, and went out to do two things.

Willow’s POV First, I applied for a visa. Second, I canceled my ID and wiped my records from the system. The clerk said all procedures would be completed within two weeks. As I walked out of the ID office, my phone rang. It was Caleb calling. “Willow, where are you? Why aren’t you home?” His tone was urgent, barely concealing his anger. It used to be like this. Once, I went to the grocery store and didn’t notice my phone. I was only out for forty minutes, but when I returned, I found Caleb had called twenty-seven times. Seeing me return with grocery bags, he pulled me into his arms, squeezing me so tight I couldn’t breathe. “Willow, if I can’t find you, I’ll go crazy!” That Caleb, so anxious and caring about me, could also make room for another woman in his heart. How ironic. “I just came out for a walk, to clear my head,” I tried to make my voice sound normal. “Stay right there, I’m coming to pick you up.” Caleb’s voice was tense, “The divorce news just broke, there are reporters everywhere. You’re not safe alone.” After hanging up, I suddenly realized. Caleb and Daisy’s affair was still trending on social media. Going out alone now indeed made me an easy target for reporters. Caleb arrived quickly, his Maybach screeching to a halt. He pushed open the car door and strode over, not even wearing his suit jacket, clearly having dropped everything to rush here. When he reached me, he instinctively reached out to pull me into his embrace. His arm lifted halfway, then dropped. We were outside now. And we were publicly divorced. His hand froze in mid-air, eventually just lightly resting on my shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He lowered his eyes to look at me, a hint of indescribable grievance in his expression, “Willow, I’m just glad you’re okay. I was so worried about you.” I looked at his face, and a sharp pang twisted in my chest. He looked so sincere, so concerned about me. Just like every other time he couldn’t find me. But I already knew that this concern wasn’t just for me anymore. I lowered my eyes and quietly asked, “Where are we eating?” Caleb quickly pulled open the car door for me, “I’ve booked a restaurant. It’s a private event, just the two of us tonight, Willow.” The car drove into the private driveway of a French restaurant in the city center. The entire restaurant had been booked out, the crystal chandeliers glowed softly, and someone played the violin in the corner, the melody lingering beautifully. Caleb pulled out my chair, personally spread the napkin on my lap, and ordered for me. When the steak arrived, he took the knife and fork, expertly cut the meat into small pieces, and pushed the plate toward me. Every time we ate Western food together, he was this thoughtful and attentive. I looked down at the neatly arranged steak pieces on my plate, my throat tight, unable to swallow a single bite. Caleb observed my expression, put down his knife and fork, and took my hand, “The divorce is just for show.” “Willow, just bear with it for a few days. Once this is over, we’ll remarry immediately.” “My care for Daisy is just for…” “Just to take care of Oliver’s girlfriend for you.” I finished his sentence for him, even managing a small smile. “He was always the best to you since you were little. I know. I understand.” Caleb finally exhaled in relief. He reached out and pinched my cheek, a smile in his voice, “Willow is the most understanding. You’ll always be my wife.” He took my hand, lacing our fingers together, his thumb slowly stroking the back of my hand, and whispered, “When we remarry, I’ll propose to you again.” My eyelashes trembled. I remembered the night he proposed three years ago. Caleb knelt before me and said, “Willow, I will never marry anyone but you. Marry me, and we’ll be together forever, okay?” I was crying so hard I couldn’t speak. The same hands that put a ring on my finger three years ago handed me the divorce decree three years later. Caleb’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. I clearly saw the tenderness and deep affection in his eyes vanish instantly, replaced by tension. He answered the phone, “Daisy, what’s wrong?” The restaurant was quiet. Daisy’s tearful voice came through the receiver, “There are reporters outside the door, I’m so scared.” Caleb shot up, “Don’t be afraid. Lock the door. I’m coming right now.” He hung up and looked down at me. His eyes still held an apology, but his body was already moving toward the door. “Willow, Daisy has a situation. I need to go handle it. I’ll have the driver come pick you up.” With that, he was out the door. I sat alone in the empty French restaurant. A whole table of carefully prepared dishes, barely touched. The waitstaff stood in the distance, their gazes carrying a hint of undisguised pity. I waited for two hours. The driver never came. Caleb had forgotten me. I walked out of the restaurant alone. Before I even reached the roadside, a group of reporters swarmed me, cameras and microphones practically shoved into my face: “Ms. Lynn, is it true you’re divorcing Mr. Owen?” “Do you know about Ms. Rance’s relationship with Mr. Owen?” “When did your relationship break down?” “Is Ms. Rance the reason for your divorce?”

Willow’s POV I finally managed to escape the mob of reporters and took a cab home, looking utterly disheveled. But before I even reached my doorstep, I saw a group of reporters squatting outside the main gate, long lenses and microphones set up everywhere. I couldn’t go home. I had no choice but to take a cab to our small apartment. Back when Caleb was pursuing me, he didn’t mention his identity as an Owen heir, fearing I’d reject him. To live with me, he bought a small 600-square-foot apartment on the west side of town. Back then, we went furniture shopping together, chose a decorator together, and furnished our new home together. Every single item in that small apartment, we had picked out together. Later, Caleb revealed his identity, we got married, and moved into the mansion. He kept that small apartment, arranging for it to be cleaned regularly. He never allowed anyone to touch anything inside. He said it was our home, just for the two of us, filled with too many memories for anyone else to touch. Occasionally, he would even take me back to stay for a night or two. I took a cab to the small apartment, opened the door, and froze right inside the entrance. A pair of women’s flats were on the floor. They weren’t mine. I was rooted to the spot. Faint voices drifted from inside. Caleb and Daisy. “Make yourself comfortable. No one knows about this place, so no reporters will bother you.” Daisy’s voice was timid, “Will Willow be unhappy if I stay here?” “Willow won’t know.” He had said this was our home, just for the two of us. Now, another woman was walking on the floors I picked out, sleeping in the bed he and I chose together. He remembered to find a secluded spot for Daisy, away from reporters, but he forgot that I, too, was blocked by reporters and had nowhere to go. He didn’t think of me even once. Pain spread from my chest, stifling me until I could barely breathe. I silently backed out, gently closing the door. As I walked out of the apartment building, I looked down and saw my hands trembling. My phone vibrated. It was a message from Caleb: “Willow, we can’t be photographed together for the next few days. I won’t be coming home these days.” I stared at the screen, wanting to ask him, “Are you going to stay with Daisy in our small apartment? Are you going to sleep in our bed?” But I couldn’t type a single word. My vision was completely blurred, and tears streamed onto the phone screen. I waited at a street corner near our house until past 1 AM, waiting for the reporters outside to leave, then secretly returned home. Back home, I found my documents, then picked out a few common clothes and toiletries and stuffed them into my suitcase. A twenty-inch small suitcase held everything I wanted to take from three years in Caleb’s house. Four days later, Caleb finally returned. The moment he walked in, he pulled me into a hug, resting his chin on my head, his voice urgent, “Willow, I missed you so much. Did you miss me?” I didn’t speak, my hands hanging at my sides. Caleb noticed something was off. He released me and looked down at my face. A clear tension in his eyes. “The reporters were too vigilant these past few days. I didn’t dare come back. But I worried about you every single day. Please don’t be mad, okay?” Worried every single day. Yet, in those four days, he didn’t send me a single call or message. He didn’t ask what I ate, didn’t ask if I was cornered by reporters, not even a goodnight. I subtly stepped back half a pace from his embrace, “I’m not mad. You’ve worked hard.” Caleb took one of my hands, brought it to his lips, and kissed it, “For our future, it’s not hard.” He took out a jewelry box. Inside was a ruby necklace. He personally put it on me, “Come on, tonight I’m taking you back to the family estate for dinner. I told Mr. Jenkins to prepare all your favorite dishes.” “The divorce is just a public statement. In our family, you’re still my wife. That won’t change.” I didn’t want to go back to the family estate. His mother, Eleanor, never liked me from the start. She disliked my ordinary background, feeling I wasn’t worthy of the Owen family. That year, Caleb, to marry me, was willing to face punishment, even declaring firmly, “If she doesn’t marry me, I’ll never marry anyone else.” Only then did Eleanor agree. The first year of our marriage, Eleanor was relatively polite to me, considering Caleb. From the second year on, because we had no children, Eleanor’s attitude toward me grew colder by the day. But Caleb didn’t wait for me to refuse. He took my hand and walked out. I sat in the car, watching the city lights pass by. The man who once said he’d marry no one but me, changed so quickly.

Willow’s POV At the family estate, I greeted Eleanor. Eleanor scowled, not even looking at me. Caleb frowned, reminding her, “Eleanor!” Only then did she grudgingly respond. Before dinner was even served, Caleb sat beside me, peeling grapes for her. Eleanor sat opposite, her face so dark it looked like it could wring out water. Dinner began, and Caleb busied himself serving me food and handing me napkins. Not long after, Daisy arrived. Eleanor’s face immediately lit up. She stood to greet Daisy, taking her hand and smiling warmly, “Daisy, you’re here? Is it cold outside? Are you hungry? Come, sit down.” She then turned to urge Caleb, “What are you waiting for? Get Daisy a glass of freshly squeezed juice, there’s some in the fridge.” Caleb put down his cutlery, stood up, and went to get it. At the dinner table, Eleanor’s gaze remained fixated on Daisy’s swollen belly, her joy evident. She suddenly spoke, “Caleb, since you two are already divorced, I don’t think you need to remarry.” “Daisy is all alone, and besides, this child is yours, the Owen’s.” “You’ve already announced publicly that you’re with Daisy, haven’t you? Why don’t you marry her? Take good care of her child. Everyone will be happy.” Caleb put his cutlery down on the table with a clatter and said coldly, “Eleanor!” Eleanor huffed in displeasure but didn’t say anything more. Caleb squeezed my hand, lowering his voice, “Willow, Eleanor’s getting old and confused. She just said that. Don’t take it to heart.” I looked at his earnest apology, and my heart ached as if someone was clutching and twisting it. It was then that I realized Eleanor had never cried, never even talked about her eldest son. She didn’t act like a mother who had lost a child. So, Eleanor knew the truth. She knew the child was Caleb’s. In the end, everyone knew the truth, and I was the only one being fooled. They were making a fool of me. “Oh, dear.” Daisy suddenly let out a soft cry. Caleb immediately turned, “What’s wrong?” Daisy’s small face was crumpled, “Nothing, the bowl was too hot.” Caleb quickly went over, took her hand, and examined it thoroughly, “You’re pregnant, how can you be so careless?” He called Mr. Jenkins for burn cream and personally applied it carefully to Daisy’s hand several times. After that, he continued eating, constantly serving Daisy food, spooning soup for her, and testing its temperature, terrified she might get hurt again. He never thought of me again. That night, we all stayed at the family estate. Back in the room, Caleb took my hand and apologized earnestly again, “Willow, Daisy is carrying Oliver’s child. Oliver passed away, so Eleanor and I both have to protect her. Please don’t be mad.” Listening to that familiar excuse, my heart felt submerged in ice water, chilling me to the bone. I avoided his gaze and whispered, “Yeah, you said that.” Caleb leaned closer, his hand resting on my waist, intending to kiss me. I turned my head, “I’m too tired today.” I turned over and lay down, my back to him. Caleb didn’t insist but still wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. I don’t know how long passed, but I woke up thirsty. The space behind me was empty. Caleb wasn’t there. I got up, intending to get some water. As I reached the hallway, the door to the next room was ajar, and muffled sounds came from within. “No, Willow is right next door. It wouldn’t be good if she heard us,” Daisy’s voice was sweet and soft. Caleb let out a low, husky laugh, “Then you’ll have to bear it. Be quiet, okay?” A series of hurried gasps. “Don’t, Caleb, the baby…” “It’s already four months.” Caleb’s urgency was barely contained, “I asked the doctor; it’s fine. I’ve missed you terribly lately.” Then came the rhythmic thudding sounds and the woman’s suppressed moans. I was frozen solid, losing sensation inch by inch from my feet upwards. I remembered our wedding night, Caleb holding me, saying, “Willow, I’ll never want anyone else in my life. You’re all I need.” And now, just a wall away, he was giving the same tenderness and intimacy to another woman. I was chilled to the bone, and my stomach churned violently. I clutched my mouth and stumbled back to my room, dry-heaving over the toilet.

Willow’s POV I couldn’t sleep anymore. I lay in the darkness with my eyes open, my body rigid as a board. After an unknown amount of time, the door gently pushed open, and Caleb softly walked in, lifted the covers, and hugged me from behind. As if nothing had happened. He smelled of an unfamiliar perfume. My stomach churned again. I gritted my teeth, pushing down the nausea again and again. Caleb’s arms tightened, his lips pressed against the back of my neck, and he mumbled vaguely, “Willow.” I lay still, pretending to be fast asleep. He fell asleep quickly. But I kept my eyes open until dawn. The next morning, as we were leaving the family estate, Daisy timidly said, “I can just take a cab. No need to trouble you.” Caleb immediately shook his head, “No way. You’re pregnant, and there are a lot of reporters out there. It’s not safe. Come with us.” The three of us walked to the car. I habitually reached for the passenger door. From behind me, Daisy’s timid voice came again, “The front seat is more spacious, and it’s a bit uncomfortable for me since I’m pregnant. Willow, could I sit in the front?” I didn’t say anything, turned, walked to the back seat, opened the door myself, and got in. Caleb looked at me, ultimately said nothing, and then opened the passenger door for Daisy. As the car drove onto the main road, a truck suddenly lost control and overturned, causing a multi-car pileup. Caleb slammed the steering wheel, and the car violently crashed into the guardrail. The massive impact flung me toward the car window, and blood streamed down my forehead. Daisy in the front seat shrieked in terror. Caleb immediately turned sideways to shield her stomach, “Daisy! Are you okay? The baby? Does your stomach hurt?” Daisy trembled all over, shrinking into his embrace, shaking her head. The road was blocked, and the ambulance wouldn’t be able to get through for a while. The accident scene quickly gathered a crowd, and people started recognizing them. “Is that Caleb Owen?” “The woman next to him, is that Willow? Mrs. Owen?” “Mrs. Owen? They’re divorced, everyone knows that. The other one is Caleb’s current girlfriend. Didn’t you see that photo of them kissing at the concert?” “Wait, why is that woman’s belly so big? They just got divorced, right? Her belly is already so big, the timing doesn’t add up.” “Isn’t she just his mistress then? Cheating during marriage!” “That mistress has no shame.” Caleb’s face instantly darkened. He unhesitatingly pulled Daisy into his embrace, then turned to me, his gaze cold and sharp, and loudly snapped, “Stop following me! We divorced a long time ago!” My body trembled. He publicly lied, pushing me out to take the blame for Daisy. Sure enough, the onlookers immediately changed their tune. “Oh, so they were already divorced. She’s not a mistress then, we misunderstood her.” “So what’s the deal with this Willow? Divorced but still clinging to her ex-husband? His new girlfriend is even pregnant.” “What else could it be? She can’t let go of the Owen family money. She came from an ordinary family; how could she willingly give up such a rich family?” “So she’s a gold-digger? Mr. Owen used to spoil her so much; he should have divorced her sooner.” I lowered my head, closed my eyes, unable to utter a single word. The pain from my injuries made me break out in a cold sweat, but none of it compared to the ache in my chest. It felt like someone had torn my heart from my chest, thrown it on the ground, and stomped on it. Caleb’s gaze fell on my pale face. He was about to say something. “My stomach hurts so much.” Daisy clutched her belly, her voice trembling. Caleb immediately pulled his gaze away and held Daisy even tighter. “Don’t be afraid, Daisy. The ambulance will be here any minute.” The ambulance finally arrived. I lifted my heavy eyelids and saw Caleb carrying Daisy onto the ambulance. All his attention was on Daisy. His steps were hurried. He didn’t look back once. My vision grew increasingly blurry. The sounds around me faded away, finally plunging me into darkness.

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That night, when I pried open Liam Sterling’s safe, the password I entered was my younger brother Jace Holloway’s birthday. There was no cash or jewelry inside, only a stack of medical reports. The last page read: [Sibling umbilical cord blood matching, a perfect match.] My hands were trembling. The door swung open, and Liam Sterling leaned against the doorframe, his expression so calm it was as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time. I held up the report: “You married me just to use my child to save Jace Holloway?” “Iris,” he said, “we can have more children later.” He looked at my belly, his expression calm: “As for this one, if it dies, it dies.” I touched my six-month-old belly and suddenly burst out laughing. As I laughed, tears splattered onto the floor. So my three-year marriage was just a carefully planned procedure to extract medicine. It turned out he was in love with my own younger brother. Iris Holloway POV When I was six months pregnant, Liam Sterling organized a grand art exhibition for me. Everyone in New York’s business elite said that Liam Sterling, this ruthless, cold, and taciturn rising business magnate, had given all his tenderness to me. I had casually mentioned once that I liked a certain deceased painter’s rare manuscript, and he spent hundreds of millions on an international auction, just to make me smile. I didn’t sleep well during my pregnancy, so he canceled all his international meetings and stayed by my bedside every night, lulling me to sleep by reciting poetry in his deep voice. I, too, once believed I was the happiest woman in the world. Until tonight’s Holloway family dinner. At the long dining table, the atmosphere was oppressive. My parents’ gaze was almost entirely fixed on Jace Holloway across from us. Jace Holloway was my younger brother, sickly since childhood, with a pale but rather delicate face. “Jace, eat more. You look so pale lately.” Mother lovingly put food into his bowl, then turned to me, her tone instantly chilling: “Iris, your brother isn’t well. You’re pregnant, so stop running around outside. What if you catch germs or viruses and pass them to him?” My hand, holding the chopsticks, paused slightly. Ever since I was little, my parents’ hearts had always leaned towards my younger brother. Before I could speak, Liam Sterling, beside me, had already put down his knife and fork. “Mother,” Liam Sterling’s voice was cold and clear, his tone carrying an oppressive weight. “Iris is my wife. Whatever she wants to do, I will accompany her. As for your so-called infection, if the Holloway family can’t even provide a sterile environment, I wouldn’t mind having Jace stay at the Sterling family’s private hospital.” Mother’s face stiffened, and she closed her mouth with an embarrassed smile. I turned to Liam Sterling; the man was unhurriedly peeling a shrimp, placing the translucent shrimp meat onto my plate. His profile was sharp, and his eyes held an unshakeable focus. In that moment, a warmth blossomed in my heart. After dinner, a heavy rain began outside. Jace Holloway suddenly clutched his chest, his brow furrowed, and his breathing grew rapid. “Jace! What’s wrong? Is it another episode?” Mother frantically supported him. Liam Sterling moved faster than everyone else. He shot to his feet, strode over, and scooped Jace Holloway into his arms. I stood rooted, watching a clear panic surface on Liam Sterling’s usually impassive face. “To the hospital,” Liam Sterling’s voice was strained. He carried Jace Holloway and rushed into the rain, not even taking time to open an umbrella. I instinctively took a step forward, but Father roughly pushed me aside: “Don’t block the way! If anything happens to your brother, you won’t have it easy either!” I stumbled, barely steadying myself by gripping the doorframe. Rainwater poured down from the eaves, splashing onto my ankles, icy and bone-chilling. Liam Sterling’s car had already vanished into the night. He had left in such a hurry that he even forgot to look back at me, still pregnant. Late at night, St. John’s Hospital in New York. I carried a meal box, walking alone down the empty corridor. I was worried, so I still had the driver bring me here. The door to the VIP ward was ajar, letting out a sliver of warm, yellow light. Just as I was about to push the door open, I heard voices from inside, and my feet froze to the spot. “Liam, it hurts so much…” Jace Holloway’s voice was tearful, heartbreakingly fragile. “Bear with it, it’ll be over soon.” Liam Sterling’s voice was low and hoarse, laced with a tenderness and indulgence I had never heard before. I peered through the crack in the door, my pupils constricting abruptly.

Iris Holloway POV On the hospital bed, Jace Holloway leaned into Liam Sterling’s embrace, his hands tightly wrapped around the man’s waist. And Liam Sterling not only didn’t push him away but lowered his head, pressing his slightly cool lips gently to Jace Holloway’s forehead. It was a kiss full of comfort and affection. My mind went blank with a “boom,” and it felt as if all the blood in my body had been drained in an instant. Liam Sterling was bisexual; this was an open secret in New York’s upper echelons. But after our marriage, he had led a clean life, never involved in any scandals. I thought he only loved me… Yet now, my husband was holding my own younger brother, his eyes filled with a deep affection I had never witnessed. “Liam, can the baby in Iris Holloway’s belly really save me?” Jace Holloway looked up, tears still clinging to the corners of his eyes. Liam Sterling’s slender fingers ran through his hair, his tone firm: “Yes. The doctor said that once the baby is born, a stem cell transplant using the umbilical cord blood will completely cure your illness.” “But will Iris Holloway agree? She dislikes me so much.” “She doesn’t need to agree.” Liam Sterling’s gaze turned cold, radiating bone-chilling frost. “She just needs to give birth to the child. I went to such lengths to marry her, gave her the title of Mrs. Sterling, and gave her the love and career she desired. She has no room to refuse.” The meal box slipped from my hands. A muffled “thud” echoed, especially jarring in the silent corridor. The sounds from the ward ceased abruptly. I frantically covered my mouth, tears falling without warning. So, all of this was a carefully orchestrated deception! He married me, doted on me, put me on a pedestal, not because he loved me. But because I was a perfect vessel, capable of bearing the medicine that would save his beloved. I stumbled backward, then turned and ran frantically out. The corridor lights were stark and blinding. I felt as if my heart was being brutally torn apart by an invisible hand, the pain so intense that even my breaths tasted of blood. My proud love, the child I joyfully anticipated, all of it was a sacrifice prepared for Jace Holloway. I don’t know how I got back to the villa. I collapsed onto the cold floor, looking at the room full of famous paintings and antiques Liam Sterling had collected for me, and suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. My stomach churned, and I rushed into the bathroom, throwing up violently. The person in the mirror was pale and disheveled. I touched my swollen abdomen, feeling the faint kicks within, my heart twisting in agony. “Baby…” I murmured, tears slipping through my fingers. “What should we do?” Liam Sterling returned just before dawn. He pushed open the bedroom door, bringing in a crisp chill. Seeing me curled up on the sofa, his brows furrowed slightly. “Why are you sleeping here? You’ll catch a cold.” He walked over, instinctively reaching to pick me up. I recoiled sharply, avoiding his touch. Liam Sterling’s hand froze in mid-air, his eyes darkening. “What’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t stay with you last night?” He sighed, his tone regaining its tenderness: “Jace’s condition was critical, and Father and Mother were distraught. I had no choice but to take him to the hospital first. Be good, don’t throw a tantrum.” What a perfect excuse. What unassailable tenderness. I looked up, staring fixedly at the handsome man before me. “Liam Sterling.” My voice was terribly hoarse. “Is it really me you love?” Liam Sterling paused slightly, then chuckled softly, stroking my cheek with his thumb. “What nonsense are you thinking? Of course, I love you.” He lied. I looked into his deep eyes, and the last shred of hope in my heart turned completely to ash.

Iris Holloway POV Liam Sterling’s thumb was warm, slightly calloused from years of holding a pen, as it gently caressed my cheek. If it were before, I would have leaned into his palm, enjoying that unique tenderness. But now, that warmth felt like a snake’s tongue, sending shivers down my spine. “I’m tired, I want to rest.” I turned my head, evading his hand, my voice so calm even I found it incredible. Liam Sterling didn’t say much, simply tucked the blanket around me: “Alright, get some more sleep. I’ll go to the study to handle some documents.” The moment the door closed, my tense body instantly sagged. I knew I couldn’t just sit there and wait for death. Liam Sterling’s study had always been off-limits, but he had never guarded it against me, and the password was my birthday. While Liam Sterling was at the company for a meeting, I pushed open the study door. I walked straight to the locked safe and entered my birthday. A “beep” sounded, a red light flashed, password incorrect. I froze. I tried Liam Sterling’s birthday, our wedding anniversary—all wrong. I entered Jace Holloway’s birthday. “Click.” The safe opened. In that instant, my heart felt as if it had been plunged into ice water, aching with cold. There were no confidential documents in the safe, only a thick stack of medical reports and a worn-out sketchbook. With trembling hands, I opened the medical reports. Jace Holloway’s name was prominently displayed. The diagnosis was a rare aplastic anemia, and the last page of the treatment plan highlighted sibling umbilical cord blood stem cell transplant. The matching results showed that my gene loci were a perfect match with Jace Holloway’s. The date was exactly one month before Liam Sterling proposed to me. I bit down hard on my lower lip, tasting a strong metallic tang of blood. I then opened the sketchbook. It was filled with drawings of the same young man, laughing, playing, or quietly reading. The style was amateurish, yet it radiated the artist’s overflowing love. The young man in the drawings was an eighteen-year-old Jace Holloway. On the last page, a sentence was written: “My Jace, may you always be happy.” The signature was Liam Sterling. So, they had been in love for a long time. It turned out that I was the ridiculous third party, a human blood bank existing solely to save their love. I put everything back exactly as I found it, then stumbled back to the bedroom. In the afternoon, the roar of a car engine sounded outside the villa. Liam Sterling not only returned himself but brought Jace Holloway back with him. “Jace needs to recuperate in a sterile environment. The hospital is too crowded, I don’t feel at ease.” Liam Sterling explained to me while instructing the servants to set up the guest room as a sterile room, “You usually get bored alone at home. With Jace here to keep you company, I’ll also feel more at ease.” I looked at Jace Holloway standing at the main entrance, dressed in Liam Sterling’s oversized shirt, and my stomach churned again. “Iris, I apologize for the intrusion.” Jace Holloway smiled at me, his smile seemingly innocent and harmless, but his eyes held a hidden challenge. The next few days, the villa became my purgatory. Liam Sterling practically moved all his work to the house. He personally supervised Jace Holloway taking his medication, accompanied him in the glass conservatory to sunbathe, and even wiped Jace Holloway’s mouth without a hint of distaste when he vomited due to medication side effects. And I became invisible. Only when reminding me to take folic acid or go for prenatal check-ups would Liam Sterling deign to cast a glance my way. “How are you feeling today? Has the baby kicked you?” Liam Sterling came up to me, holding a glass of warm milk, his gaze falling on my swollen abdomen, his eyes so tender they could drown someone. Looking at his affectionate demeanor, I only felt absurdity.

Iris Holloway POV “Liam Sterling, who are you truly thinking of when you look at me every day?” I finally couldn’t hold back, piercing through the layers of this false pretense. Liam Sterling’s brow furrowed slightly as he placed the milk on the table. “Iris, you’ve been too sensitive lately. I understand that hormonal changes are significant during pregnancy, but don’t be unreasonable.” “I’m unreasonable?” I let out a soft laugh, though my eyes were red. “Do you dare to say you brought Jace Holloway here just for him to recuperate? Do you dare to say you didn’t marry me for the umbilical cord blood in my belly?” Liam Sterling’s eyes instantly turned cold, the atmospheric pressure around him dropping to freezing point. “You looked in my safe.” He stated it as a fact, his tone absolute. I didn’t deny it, raising my head to look him straight in the eye: “Yes. So what? Are you going to kill me for your Jace?” Liam Sterling stepped forward, pinching my chin. The force wasn’t heavy, but it carried a warning. “Iris, I’ve given you the best life, the honor of being Mrs. Sterling. As long as you obediently give birth to the child, nothing will change. Jace is your own younger brother, after all; saving him is your rightful responsibility.” “What did you say?” My tears splattered onto his hand. “By what right do you make decisions for me! That’s my child!” “And my child too.” Liam Sterling released his grip, looking down at me. “Don’t do anything foolish. You should know that in New York, without my permission, you can’t even walk out that front door.” He turned and left, his back resolute. I collapsed onto the sofa, trembling all over. That evening, Jace Holloway knocked on my bedroom door. He walked in smiling, carrying a plate of sliced fruit: “Iris, have some fruit. Liam specifically had it air-shipped for you.” I looked at him coldly: “Get out.” Jace Holloway wasn’t bothered. He simply sat down on the sofa, crossing his long legs. “Iris, why are you so angry? Actually, you should thank me. If I hadn’t gotten sick, how would Liam ever have noticed a mediocre woman like you?” He leaned forward, lowering his voice, his tone filled with malicious gloating. “Don’t you understand? That glass conservatory you’re so proud of, Liam actually built it for me to watch the stars. The reason you have all this now is also because of me.” My fingertips dug into my palms, my nails almost breaking. “Have you said enough?” “No,” Jace Holloway’s smile grew even brighter. “Iris, guess what: once the baby is born, will Liam keep you, a woman who has lost her usefulness, or will he openly be with me?” I abruptly stood up, picked up the water glass from the table, and fiercely splashed its contents onto Jace Holloway’s face. “Shut up!” Jace Holloway shrieked, then stumbled to the floor, knocking over the fruit plate. The door was violently flung open, and Liam Sterling strode in. Seeing the mess on the floor and the water stains on Jace Holloway’s face, his expression instantly turned utterly grim. “Iris Holloway, what are you doing!” He roughly pushed me away, pulling Jace Holloway into his embrace. I stumbled back a few steps, my side hitting the corner of the table hard, a searing pain shooting through me. But Liam Sterling didn’t even glance at me, only anxiously checked Jace Holloway for injuries. “Liam, don’t blame Iris, I accidentally made her angry…” Jace Holloway murmured, leaning against him. I clutched my faintly aching stomach, looking at the embracing pair before me, and suddenly burst out laughing. As I laughed, tears streamed down my face. In this house, even my breathing felt wrong.

Iris Holloway POV The bruise on my side ached faintly, but it was nowhere near a thousandth of the pain in my heart. Liam Sterling carried Jace Holloway out of the bedroom and didn’t return all night. I lay awake in the darkness, my eyes open, until the sky began to lighten. I touched my swollen abdomen; the little life inside seemed to sense my sorrow, giving me a gentle kick. “Baby, I’m sorry…” I whispered, my voice utterly broken. I couldn’t let my child become a sacrifice for someone else’s love, nor could I let my child face the fate of having its umbilical cord blood drained the moment it was born. I had to leave. I forced myself to calm down. Liam Sterling’s influence spread throughout New York; a direct escape would be tantamount to seeking my own death. I needed a detailed plan. A few days later was the annual New York Charity Gala. As the CEO’s wife of Sterling Group, I had to attend. It was my only chance to reach out to the outside world and find an opportunity to escape. On the day of the gala, Liam Sterling had the stylist deliver a haute couture gown early. It was a dark blue velvet gown that perfectly accentuated my pregnant figure, making my skin appear as white as snow. Liam Sterling stood at the closet door, looking at me in the mirror, a flicker of admiration in his eyes. He walked up to me, wrapped his arms around my waist from behind, and placed a priceless sapphire necklace around my neck. “Beautiful,” he murmured, his chin resting on my shoulder, his warm breath fanning my ear. If I hadn’t known the truth, I would have indulged in that tenderness. But now, I only felt a chill run down my spine. Through the mirror, I gazed at him coldly. “Liam Sterling, aren’t you tired of acting?” Liam Sterling’s movements paused slightly, then he recovered his composure. He brushed back a few stray strands of my hair, his voice flat. “Iris, as long as you cooperate, we will remain New York’s most envied couple. Tonight’s gala is very important; don’t disappoint me.” I didn’t speak, just lowered my gaze. The gala hall was bustling with activity. Liam Sterling escorted me in, instantly drawing everyone’s attention. He thoughtfully fended off all the toasts on my behalf, shielding me from the crowded guests, perfectly playing the role of a devoted husband. “Mr. Sterling truly dotes on his wife.” “Indeed, I heard Mr. Sterling even put off a multi-billion dollar project just to accompany his wife for her prenatal check-ups.” The constant flattery around me felt incredibly ironic. Just then, a stir suddenly rippled through the crowd. I looked up to see Jace Holloway, dressed in a well-tailored white suit, entering surrounded by our parents. Though his face was pale, the lighting accentuated a fragile beauty about him. Liam Sterling’s grip on my hand tightened abruptly. I distinctly felt the man beside me’s breathing falter. His gaze cut through the layers of people, fixated on Jace Holloway, bearing a restrained longing and desire. “Why is he here?” Liam Sterling whispered to his assistant behind him, his voice laced with tension. “Jace Holloway said he was bored at home and wanted some fresh air, so Mr. Holloway brought him,” the assistant replied nervously. Liam Sterling’s brows knitted tightly together. Jace Holloway seemed to sense his gaze, looking over from a distance with a faint smile on his lips. In that moment, I felt like nothing more than a superfluous ornament. Halfway through the gala, I used the excuse of going to the restroom to escape Liam Sterling’s watchful eye. 6 Iris Holloway POV Hiding in the shadows of the corridor, I pulled out the spare phone I had secretly hidden and dialed my college friend Kaelen Voss. “Kaelen, do me a favor. Help me get a fake passport to go abroad, as soon as possible.” My voice was a low, trembling whisper. Kaelen Voss on the other end of the line was startled. “Iris? What’s wrong? Isn’t Liam Sterling treating you well?” “It’s all a lie…” I closed my eyes, tears sliding down my cheeks. “He married me just to use my baby’s umbilical cord blood to save Jace Holloway. Kaelen, I beg you, help me.” Kaelen Voss was silent for a moment, then gritted her teeth and agreed. “Okay, give me three days.” After hanging up, I let out a long breath. As long as I could get the passport, I could escape this cage. I composed myself, preparing to return to the ballroom. Just as I reached the corner, I heard muffled gasps. A faint light peeked through the half-open door of the lounge. I instinctively stopped, looked through the crack in the door, and my blood ran cold instantly. Inside the lounge, Jace Holloway was pinned against the wall by Liam Sterling. “Who told you to run around? Don’t you know your body can’t handle this strain!” Liam Sterling’s voice was low, filled with intense anger and heartache. Jace Holloway tilted his head back, his eyes slightly red. “I just wanted to see you… Liam, watching you and Iris together every day, I’m going crazy.” “Just hold on a little longer.” Liam Sterling raised a hand to caress his cheek, his thumb gently stroking the corner of his eye. “Once the baby is born and your illness is cured, we won’t have to hide anymore.” “Really?” Jace Holloway rose on his tiptoes, leaning close to his lips. “Then kiss me now, okay?” Liam Sterling didn’t refuse. He lowered his head and kissed Jace Holloway’s lips. The air in the corridor seemed to have been sucked dry. I stood rooted to the spot, even forgetting to breathe. I clamped my hand over my mouth, preventing myself from making a sound. My fingernails dug deep into my palms, drawing blood, yet I felt no pain whatsoever. I thought I was numb enough, but seeing my husband and my own brother kissing, the soul-rending agony still made me wish for death. This was the man I had loved for three years. This was my proud marriage. I stumbled backward, then turned and ran out desperately. I didn’t want to stay in this heartbreaking place for another second. Just as I ran out of the corridor, I bumped into my Mother, who was looking for me. “Iris! Where did you run off to? Can’t you watch where you’re going!” Mother grabbed my arm, reprimanding me sharply. I looked at the mother who had given birth to and raised me, despair filling my eyes. “Mom, did you know all along?” Mother froze for a moment, her gaze evasive. “Know what? What nonsense are you spouting!” “About Liam Sterling and Jace Holloway! About their conspiring to use the baby in my womb!” My voice was shrill, filled with a sorrow so deep it felt like weeping blood. Mother’s face instantly changed. She clapped a hand over my mouth, lowering her voice to a furious whisper: “Shut your mouth! Since you already know, then obediently give birth to the child! Jace is your brother; are you going to just watch him die? It’s your luck to be able to exchange a child for your brother’s life!” I felt as if I had been struck by lightning. I stared at my mother in disbelief, as if looking at a monster. So, everyone knew. Only I, like a fool, had been kept in the dark, trampled upon and used by them at will. “Let go of me…” I violently shook off Mother’s hand, my eyes terrifyingly vacant. “I won’t let you have your way.” I turned and ran out of the ballroom, disappearing into the vast night.

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When I was seven months pregnant, I noticed Smith had a new female friend. They talked about everything, sharing an incredible, unspoken understanding. Every day, Smith would buy two bouquets of roses—one for me, and one for her. But there was never anything overtly out of line. Until that woman asked him, “If you had met me first, would you have married me?” Smith didn’t answer. Instead, he smoked on the balcony all night. Smith was completely distracted today. He looked like he was about to say something several times, but then he’d swallow the words. Finally, I spoke up, “Is something wrong?” Smith sighed, “I need to go on a business trip, to the next city over. I’ll be back tomorrow. But I can’t leave you alone! Forget it, I’ll send someone else!” As he spoke, I watched him, seeing how earnestly he tried to convince me. He met my gaze directly, not flinching. He asked, puzzled, “What’s wrong?” I shook my head. “Nothing.” I told him, “You should go.” “What about you, all alone?” “I’ll have my mom come stay with me.” Ever since I got pregnant, Smith had been incredibly attentive. Especially as my belly grew, he was always worried about me being home alone. He canceled many social engagements just to be with me. “What if something happens and no one’s around? “I’ll be worried sick if I’m out anyway, so it’s better if I just don’t go.” Even if he absolutely had to go out, he’d at least wait for my mom to arrive, giving her countless instructions to take good care of me. It got to the point where my mom would laugh, “She’s my own daughter! Do you think I’d let anything happen to her?” But today, he only hesitated for two seconds before nodding. “Alright then, take care of yourself. I’ll be back as soon as possible. Call me if anything happens!” He left in a hurry, only grabbing a change of clothes before rushing out the door. I sat still, not moving. Even when he turned back to look at me, I smiled and waved. After the door closed, I still didn’t move, but the rigid posture I’d held relaxed. Smith was acting strangely. Everything about him was off. But I didn’t say a single extra word, nor did I ask a single extra question. Because I knew where he was going and who he was going to see. At first, I didn’t know the woman’s name. I only knew her last name was Clement, and Smith called her Ms. Clement. The first time I saw her was a year ago, before I was pregnant. I was waiting for Smith at a new coffee shop downstairs from his office. I hadn’t told him I was coming, planning to call him around lunchtime. But then he suddenly walked in. The receptionist, who had been lounging lazily, straightened up. Smith nodded to her, and she smiled, giving him an OK sign. It was an unspoken understanding. I’ve always found that kind of unspoken understanding between a man and a woman terrifying. It makes them both mistakenly believe they’re destined to be together. But at that time, the strange feeling only flickered in my mind, and I didn’t think much of it. Later, Smith saw me and looked surprised. He asked what I was doing there. I said, “Waiting for you to have lunch.” “Why didn’t you call me?” “I didn’t want to disturb your work!” I asked him, “Why did you come down?” He rubbed his temples, sighing, “Work stuff, it’s really annoying. Just came down to walk around and grab a coffee. Their cookies here are pretty good, you should try some.” As he spoke, he raised his hand, “Ms. Clement, another order of cookies, please!” Meeting the woman’s questioning gaze, he smiled and introduced me, “My wife!” They were both completely at ease that day. Smith introduced me naturally. Clement greeted me openly, even comping our order. Smith said the coffee here was authentic and quite good the one time he tried it, so his company’s afternoon tea was now ordered from this place. That’s how they got to know each other. Back then, I thought they were just a simple shop owner and customer. I didn’t know that those delicious cookies weren’t actually for sale at their shop. Nor did I know that Clement would text Smith, asking him: “If you had met me first, would you have married me?”

Smith texted me at ten o’clock that night. He said he had just finished working and arrived at his hotel. He said he was too tired to video call me today. He told me to take care of myself and call him if anything happened. I replied to each message, telling him not to worry, that I was fine. I asked the coffee shop barista, “Where’s Ms. Clement? She’s not here?” The barista, a simple and good-hearted guy, saw my familiar tone and smiled. “She went out, just left! It’s her birthday today, so she must be on a date with her boyfriend. She was carrying a huge bouquet of roses, so romantic!” I nodded, got my coffee to go, and left. This city is huge; finding two people is incredibly difficult. But Smith had bought me a smartwatch with call functions. I’d slipped it into his laptop bag before he left. He bought it for me when I was four months pregnant. I’m the kind of person who gets really severe morning sickness. Up until my fourth month of pregnancy, my weight was decreasing, not increasing. I didn’t know I was already anemic, nor did I know I would faint in a mall due to poor ventilation. Smith was terrified. His hands were still trembling when I woke up. That watch was for monitoring my health and tracking my real-time location. It was expensive, so its GPS accuracy was extremely high. Just like now, it had been at a hotel on the twelfth floor for three hours. I didn’t rush over that night. My due date was only twenty-three days away, and I still had to prioritize myself. I threw out the coffee, drank some milk, and lay on the soft bed, listening to white noise for sleep. But even so, I couldn’t sleep, just like that night over a month ago. That was the first time I snooped through Smith’s phone, because he was so agitated. He cut his hand while peeling an apple for me. He dropped and broke a glass while pouring me water. He slammed his foot into the chair in front of him, his face dark. His outburst made me scream. He apologized, saying he was upset about something at work, that he didn’t mean it. But when I woke up in the middle of the night, I found his side of the bed cold and empty. Smith had smoked on the balcony all night. With a sinking heart, I unlocked his phone. The chat interface hadn’t been exited. The person saved as ‘Clement’ had sent a message that afternoon. “If you had met me first, would you have married me?” Smith hadn’t replied. Not a single word. But that night, my heart died right there, in his phone.

I arrived at the hotel at 6 AM, with my marriage certificate and ID. I placed everything on the service desk. “Smith is my husband. I need to know which room he booked. If you can’t tell me, I’ll call the police.” I didn’t have the energy to argue with anyone. I was exhausted, physically and mentally drained! The front desk person stared for a long time, their expression shifting from surprise to hesitation, then to pity. “Please wait a moment, I’ll check for you right away!” They quickly gave me the room number and asked if I needed any help. I smiled, shook my head, gently stroked my swollen belly, and went upstairs. Smith didn’t make me wait long. I had only been standing outside the door for less than forty minutes when it opened. Smith stood there, gripping the doorknob. Behind him, a slender pair of arms wrapped around his waist. “Smith, thank you for this night. I’ll remember it forever…” Forever what? Her words were cut short as Smith frantically pushed her away. He saw me and hurried towards me. But I tilted my head, looking past him. Clement sat on the floor, her fiery red slip dress unable to conceal her pale legs. She stared blankly at Smith’s back, her eyes filled with sadness and hurt. “Julian!” Smith’s voice trembled when he called my name. Mine too. My hands, clasped behind my back, wouldn’t stop shaking. I thought I was mentally prepared and could handle this calmly. But in that moment, I found it hard to even stand upright. “Where’s the car?” “Underground parking.” “Let’s go!” I braced myself against the wall and turned first. Smith tried to help me. I growled, “Don’t touch me!” His hand flinched and froze, then he followed close beside me. Clement caught up with us at that moment. “Ms. Julian, you really don’t have to act this way. There’s nothing dirty going on between Smith and me!” Her tone was neither humble nor arrogant, her face full of stubbornness. Almost the instant her words fell, I slapped her. “Smack!” “Ah!” Clement screamed, “How dare you hit me?” She raised her hand protectively, wanting to touch Smith’s visibly reddened face. Smith turned away, dodging her touch. He looked at me pleadingly, “Julian, let’s go home!” Clement clenched her fists, glaring at me fiercely. “Ms. Julian, if you have a problem, direct it at me. How dare you hit Smith?” “Stop talking,” Smith ordered. Clement looked at Smith, disbelieving, “I’m helping you!” “Shut up!” Smith snapped. He didn’t spare Clement a single glance, keeping his eyes fixed on me, and spoke again. “Julian, let’s go home!”

“Julian, I can explain.” “Yesterday was Clement’s birthday. She doesn’t have any friends here, so she just wanted me to spend some time with her.” “I just celebrated her birthday with her, nothing else happened.” “It was wrong of me to lie to you, and I apologize.” “I was just afraid you’d be angry, afraid you’d overthink things!” “I was wrong. If you mind, I won’t see her again.” “She’s just a friend.” “Julian, please don’t ignore me. Say something, okay? “Don’t scare me!” Since we got home, Smith had said a lot. Explanations, apologies, self-reproach. I wanted to speak, but my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I couldn’t utter a single word. I didn’t know where to start, or what to say. Finally, I managed to say, one word at a time, “Smith, let’s get a divorce.” My words made Smith tremble violently. He clenched his fists, closing his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, it was as if he had suppressed his furious emotions. “Nothing really happened between her and me. We just had some drinks and talked.” “Julian, please don’t be like this, okay? I know you’re angry, I was wrong, I messed up, I’ll accept any punishment.” “But you have to believe me, I didn’t do anything to betray you!” What exactly did he consider “betraying me”? “You must have hugged, you probably kissed. You smell of her perfume. And here…” I pointed to his lips, “a bite mark!” Smith flinched, his lips tightening. I looked at him in despair. “How much further do we need to go? Catching you red-handed in bed? You were in a room together, all night. How am I supposed to believe you?” “Smith, how can I believe you?” Smith slumped his head in defeat. He knelt on one knee before me, wanting to touch me but not daring to. “Julian, I was wrong! I was foolish, I lost my head, but I swear, nothing more happened.” “I’m begging you, for the sake of all these years we’ve been together, for the sake of our child who’s about to be born, please give me one more chance.” How laughable. He knew about our years of shared history, he knew our child was coming. Yet he still did all this, and he still hoped I would forgive him for their sake. Layer upon layer of emotions, memory after memory, each one tearing me apart. I looked around frantically, then my gaze fell on my own belly. Tears fell uncontrollably, and my sobs sounded like a trapped animal. Smith protectively reached for me, “Julian, what’s wrong?” His voice was like a match, instantly igniting me. I finally burst into loud sobs. “I want a divorce! I want a divorce from you!”

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The girl my lawyer boyfriend once defended, Chloe, put a thumbtack in my shoe, leaving me bleeding profusely. My boyfriend apologized for her again. The doctor was disinfecting and injecting me. The needle went in deep, making me sob uncontrollably. “Ethan, how many times have you apologized to me because of Chloe?” He looked dazed, meeting my reddened eyes. I told him, “Fifty-one.” On average, once a week. This has been going on since he took Chloe’s case, during our eighth year together. It was spent enduring his endless apologies. My voice still trembled at the end, but I wiped away my tears. “Ethan, I’ve had enough.” “I’m tired. Aren’t you tired of it too?” “I’m sorry.” He was silent for a long time, and still, that was all he said. I let go of his hand. I hated needles. For years, whenever I had an injection, it was our ritual for him to offer his hand for me to squeeze tight. “Ethan, I’m sick of hearing ‘I’m sorry.’” He lowered his gaze, watching me struggle to even walk. “I’ll make Chloe come and apologize too.” “Sarah, I promise, this will be the last time something like this happens.” When I saw Chloe, she was already sobbing. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” “The thumbtacks spilled, and I didn’t notice one fell into your shoe.” Ethan didn’t need my reaction; he already believed her. “Sarah, the security camera footage isn’t very clear. You can’t just assume she did it.” It was the same as every other time he’d defended Chloe. “Let’s just drop this.” My wound was still seeping blood. “Ethan, you apologize for her, and you’re just going to let it go for my sake.” “You’re really good at handling things, aren’t you?” Catching the sarcasm in my voice, Ethan’s brow furrowed abruptly, and his voice involuntarily rose. “She already said it was an accident, so what more do you want?” “What kind of apology or compensation would satisfy you? I’ll take care of it.” He loosened his tie, looking at me as if I were some kind of cold-blooded monster. “Chloe’s still young. She’s not as bad as you think.” “You’re years older than her, why are you being so petty?” His chest heaved. In the past, at this point, I’d be too exhausted to argue, intimidated by his aggression, and the matter would be dropped. But now, I looked at Chloe, who had arrived home before Ethan and me, busying herself in the kitchen. I didn’t want to pretend nothing had happened anymore. Hearing the door, Chloe peeked out from the kitchen. “Sarah, I figured you hadn’t eaten yet, so I came back early to cook. Consider it my apology.” “I’m a great cook, you know.” “Whenever you were away on business, I’d come over and cook for Ethan.” Chloe’s fingerprint was in our digital lock. She was wearing slippers identical to Ethan’s. She was wearing my pajamas. She was rummaging through the kitchen with familiar ease. And she kept saying, “I’m always here.” After returning from my business trip and going straight to the hospital, I finally started noticing all these traces in our home. “Ethan, she came here often while I was away?” He pursed his lips. “She’s taking a break from school and said she was bored at home, so she offered to cook for me.” “She’s just being kind; it doesn’t concern you.” My eyes, swollen and aching from crying, made my sensitive nerves still throb. “It does concern me.” Of the fifty-one apologies Ethan had given me, some were for Chloe breaking my necklace that was in his car. Some were for the many times he ditched me to go find Chloe. Some were for Chloe crashing my dates with Ethan and insisting on joining us. Some were for Chloe tripping me and spilling hot soup on me, causing me injuries multiple times. I pointed at Chloe and said coldly, “Pay my medical bills. Not just for this, but for all the previous incidents…” I calculated a total. Ethan’s jaw tightened beside me. I continued, “And take off those clothes. They’re mine…”

“Enough!” As if he couldn’t bear it anymore, Ethan suddenly roared. “I told her to wear the clothes.” “Last time she was here, it got too late, so I let her stay the night and found her one of your shirts.” “It’s just one outfit.” “If you want, I’ll buy you another one, exactly the same!” “It’s not the same!” I screamed back, my face a mess. Veins bulged on the back of his hand as he repeatedly asked me, “How is it not the same? Is it just because you don’t like her?” “I’ve paid her debt for the money you wanted.” “Ten times the amount, is that enough?!” “Why are you harassing a young girl?!” My ears throbbed, and my palms tingled; I gasped for air. “You’re paying for her? What makes you her protector?” “She’s a criminal. Where do you get such a huge sense of responsibility?” “Time after time, she does this on purpose. Ethan, are you blind? Can’t you see it?” We argued at the top of our lungs. “You only took her mother’s case as her defense attorney.” “There are professionals to look after her, to guide her.” “She clings to you, and you just let her.” “Can’t you see she likes you?” His words weren’t just words; they were needles, piercing me where I was most vulnerable. “Sarah, shut up!” “Do you have any empathy? How can you be so vicious?” “She made mistakes, but does she have to be bound by her past forever?” “You keep calling her a criminal. Why are you acting so superior?” In the midst of our argument, Chloe ran out, as if she couldn’t stand it anymore. Ethan moved to follow, but I blocked his path, tears streaming down my face. “Don’t you dare leave!” “If you walk out that door today, we’re over.” Ethan ignored my tears, his voice filled with rage. “Sarah, I told you.” “The only reason Chloe bullied others at school was because her parents neglected her. She made mistakes because she grew up in a loveless home.” “She’s not bad at heart.” “The court only ordered probation.” “What right do you have to insult her?” “I defended her, I believe in her, so she relies on me, she’s willing to listen to me and make amends.” “Why wouldn’t I look after her?” “Are you really going to be as cold-hearted as you are, and abandon a child’s future?” His last sentence was slow and cold. “Now I even wonder if you did something between you and Chloe.” His phone rang. Chloe’s name flickered like a persistent ghost. I wouldn’t let Ethan answer. He tried to snatch it. He yanked me, slamming me against the wall with a loud thud. My foot was still injured; I couldn’t stand steadily and collapsed to the floor. His phone also fell, and a spiderweb of cracks spread across the screen. Ethan’s eyes blazed with fury. My tailbone, back, and lower abdomen screamed in agony; every word I spoke made me gasp. “Ethan, help me up…” His eyes were fixed on the leaking phone screen. He fumbled with it, his hand slipping three or four times before he finally answered. He tried to pull me up from the floor. “You’re coming with me.” “You’re going to apologize to Chloe for what you said!” Chloe’s voice leaked from the phone, crying and yelling, “I don’t want to see her! I don’t!” I flailed in Ethan’s grasp like a duck whose neck was being squeezed. He tossed me away again, and I fell back down with a heavy thud. The room darkened with the fading light outside. Ethan rushed out, the hallway light casting his face in a chiaroscuro of light and shadow. “And another thing.” “So what if Chloe likes me?” “It’s normal for a young girl to have a crush; she just needs proper guidance.” “Not for you to act like a maniac, just because you’re jealous of a little girl.” “Today isn’t about you threatening to break up with me.” “It’s about whether you can bear the consequences if Chloe gets hurt.” My fingers curled up in pain, and I melted into a heap on the floor. It took a long time for me to find the strength to respond.

The wound on my foot had scabbed over and the scab had fallen off. I couldn’t say what else vanished with that wound. My twenty-seventh birthday arrived. My friend, Maya, covered my eyes and led me all the way to our destination. “Happy Birthday!” Fireworks burst one after another in the sky, laughter filled the air, and confetti floated down. My blurry vision cleared, and I saw everyone’s smiling faces. Ethan knelt on one knee before me. “Happy birthday, Sarah.” “Will you marry me?” He was so gentle, nothing like the horrible fight we had that night. “I haven’t been in touch lately because I was afraid you were still mad at me.” “I’ve also been preparing for this proposal.” The city’s most exclusive rooftop view, custom-made fireworks, peonies covering the ground. It clearly required a lot of thoughtful preparation. “I’ve handled everything.” “I’ve handed Chloe’s case over to someone else, she won’t bother us anymore.” “Sarah, marry me!” The cheers reached a crescendo. “Say yes! Say yes!” “I…” Just as I uttered a syllable, Ethan’s phone rang again and again. One ring, two rings. The hand holding the ring trembled, and he bit his teeth. Still, he answered. He gestured for everyone to wait. And stopped my hesitant, trembling hand. Only a few muffled sounds came through the phone, but I clearly heard, “waiting for you.” I was all too familiar with this scene. Many times, Ethan had been called away like this, because Chloe said she was in trouble, or she was sad, or she needed him. Ethan’s temple throbbed. He shoved the ring into my hand. “Sarah.” “I’m sorry.” The fifty-second apology, on the first day of my twenty-seventh year. “Wait for me to come back. I’ll propose again properly then.” He ran out quickly, his clothes flapping in the wind. The awkwardness, the probing looks, the pity from everyone fell on me. “Ethan, where the hell are you going—” The wind scattered Maya’s curses. Ethan pushed open the door to another terrace. “Chloe, get down from there!” Chloe sat on the railing, swaying precariously, her expression manic. “It’s my eighteenth birthday today too, and you haven’t even wished me happy birthday.” Ethan rubbed his throbbing temples, worn down, with no fight left. “Okay, happy birthday.” “Now, get down. Please, get down, and I’ll spend it with you however you want.” Her face lit up. “However I want?” “Then I want you not to propose to your girlfriend, and I want you to be my boyfriend!” Ethan’s steps towards her halted, and his expression darkened completely. Chloe flinched under his gaze, and as if she’d done something wrong, she instinctively started to whine. “Not forever, how about just one year?” “Six months? A month?” “A week then? Just one week!” She started crying, leaning back a little further. “Ethan, you won’t even give me one week?” “If you still don’t agree, I’ll jump from here!” The moment she acted cute, Ethan’s expression softened considerably. Then, because of her next action, his eyes wide with panic, lunging to grab her, his voice trembling, he hastily agreed. “Okay, I’ll be your boyfriend! I’ll be your boyfriend!” Chloe’s eyes brightened, and she flew into Ethan’s arms. Her arms wrapped around him, holding him tight. Ethan hesitated for a moment, then his hand slowly came up to her head, stroking her hair. Thud. I released my grip, and the ring dropped to the floor. Ethan, still holding Chloe, turned around. I stood in the narrow doorway. In his stunned gaze, I suddenly smiled. “I’m leaving.” My friend, Maya, rushed to my side, panicking, “Sarah, where are you going?” I touched her reddened eyes. “I’m going home.” “I’m his ex-girlfriend now.” “It’s not appropriate for me to stay here.” Ethan didn’t come back for a long time. I hadn’t expected him. “Why are you back?”

His voice was barely a whisper. “I came back to get a few things.” He added, “Chloe’s emotionally unstable, I went to stay with her.” Seeing I wouldn’t engage, he looked down and said helplessly, “Sarah, you saw it. I had no choice today.” My voice was absent from the room; only the sounds of my movements broke the silence. Ethan’s brow instantly furrowed. He leaned against the half-open closet, gripping my wrist. But all his anger seemed to dissipate when he saw that I was holding his clothes. “Just take a few items.” “You’ll be back in a few days, you don’t need so much.” I was calm. “Please move your things out as soon as possible. I’m selling this house.” The clothes, unclaimed, fell to the floor in a crumpled mess, softly, yet heavily. Ethan grabbed me, his words forced out between clenched teeth. “Sarah, what crazy talk is this?” “Didn’t I explain it to you? Teenagers are very sensitive. I was just humoring her, it didn’t mean anything!” I met his gaze, like he wanted to devour me. “Ethan, when we first got together, it was also on my eighteenth birthday.” He didn’t understand, or he didn’t want to. “So what? Was I supposed to let her die?” “Why are you being so dramatic?” I didn’t say another word. Ethan was busy fulfilling his promise. He and Chloe acted as if they needed to cram all their future together into those few days. I was busy packing and selling the house. Occasionally, I’d still receive photos of Ethan and Chloe from unknown numbers. I thought Ethan and I were done for good. But there are always surprises. The day the ‘for sale’ sign went up, I found out I was pregnant. It wasn’t a good day; the rain hadn’t fallen yet, and the air was heavy, and my heart felt just as suffocated. “I was injured before, I had an injection.” “I fell once that day. My lower abdomen hurt terribly then, but I didn’t think anything of it.” “Later, I cried a few times, and once, after crying, I bled. I thought it was just from being too emotional.” I looked at the doctor helplessly, my eyes wet with tears. My ability to speak seemed to regress; I spoke very, very slowly. The doctor sighed. “Try to relax for now. I’ve scheduled you for an examination tomorrow.” “We’ll see the baby’s condition then.” I don’t know how Ethan had found me. “Sarah, you actually sold the house?” Just looking at him made my whole body feel a wrenching pain. “Sarah, I’m talking to you!” The ultrasound report fell to the floor. Ethan saw it, then reread it, disbelieving. His voice trembled at the end. “Sarah, you’re pregnant?” “We’re having a baby?” As if desperately trying to compose himself, his hand reached out to touch me, then hesitated. “I’ll come back tonight to take care of you.” “Why didn’t you tell me?” I tugged at the corner of my mouth. “Aren’t you in a relationship?” His smile was forced. “Sarah, none of that was real.” “Besides, I promised her seven days, and today is already the sixth.” “Wait for me. Chloe’s here too; I’ll go clarify things with her right now.” Could he really make it clear? When Chloe rushed over with a knife and stabbed me in the stomach, I really wanted to ask Ethan. Her face was contorted. “I won’t let you take him from me! He’s mine! He’s mine!” “I’m telling you, we’ve done everything!” “You have a baby? I can have one too!” The wound was cold at first, then came a searing, gut-wrenching pain. Blood flowed ceaselessly. Ethan initially stood still. He’d listened to Chloe, who said she wanted to apologize to me alone. Until the knife’s blade reflected a dazzling light. The rain that had been brewing all day finally fell. The pouring rain diluted the puddles of blood, washing them everywhere. I watched Ethan scramble and stumble, more disheveled than I’d ever seen him, running towards me. I never imagined rain could make me tremble and shiver so much. My consciousness slowly blurred. I felt as if I had truly become the most insignificant thing in the world. “Sarah—” “Don’t you dare close your eyes! Look at me, please, just look at me!” Ethan screamed, heartbroken. Rain, tears, and blood mingled together. Ethan had just looked at me, full of conviction. “From now on, it’ll just be the three of us.” But Ethan, Look at us now. How can there be a “future” for us anymore?

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The magnificent fifty-million-dollar pink diamond, crafted by Smith Group, vanished without a trace during its launch event. Chloe, my subordinate whom I’d personally mentored, wailed hysterically into the cameras of a hundred media outlets: “Eleanor, that’s the lifeblood of Smith Group! Even if you desperately need money for your mother’s medical treatment, you can’t steal it!” Ethan, the Smith Group CEO I had loved for five years, publicly threw out a fabricated surveillance screenshot, captioned: “Mistaking garbage for gold is the biggest stain on my life, Ethan Smith.” Overnight, I became a notorious thief, public enemy number one across the entire internet. My mother’s intensive care ward was violently kicked open by influencers, and my brother, Leo, who has Asperger’s, was forced to drink dirty water from a toilet. Everyone demanded that I pay for my crimes with my life. Ethan’s bodyguards cornered me at the edge of the Brooklyn Bridge. The entire internet celebrated: “Jump! You deserve to die!” But three days later, when Chloe, at her lavish engagement party, flaunted that same pink diamond to the world, dozens of police cruisers roared to a halt, completely encircling the entire ballroom. Did they really think I was just some pushover all these years?

“Eleanor, where did you hide the ‘Star River Pink Diamond’? Speak up!” Chloe’s hand clamped down hard on my arm. Her freshly done, diamond-studded manicure dug sharply into my forearm. Tiny trails of blood instantly seeped out. Her eyes were bloodshot, and large tears streamed down her face. She sobbed dramatically into the hundreds of media cameras at the press conference. Mr. Davies, Smith Group’s Head of Security, irritably tugged at his walkie-talkie. A police baton slammed against the display stand with a resounding thud. The bulletproof glass hummed. “Eleanor, this pink diamond is a crucial piece for Smith Group, set to win a gold award at the International Jewelry Exhibition!” Mr. Davies pointed his finger at me, spittle flying as he spoke. “Now, the iris-recognition safe that Chloe was personally responsible for has been forcibly cracked, and the diamond is gone!” “The hallway surveillance clearly shows that only you returned to the core design studio last night, past midnight!” “If you don’t produce the diamond today, I’m calling the police to arrest you immediately!” I stared at them expressionlessly. I raised my hand and, one by one, pried Chloe’s fingers from my flesh. Then I pushed her back about a foot and a half. “I came back last night to get the exhibition schedule I’d forgotten.” I met Mr. Davies’ eyes, my voice flat. “As for that iris-recognition safe, Chloe insisted on being personally responsible for it from the very beginning.” “Only she recorded her iris and dynamic password. I never even touched that wretched box. How could I have cracked it?” “You’re lying!” Chloe shrieked, her perfectly applied makeup contorted with rage. She spun around abruptly and flung herself at Ethan, who was emerging from the VIP channel. “Ethan, you heard it last night, didn’t you?” Chloe tugged at the sleeve of his tailored suit, crying dramatically, her face streaked with tears. “Eleanor said in the breakroom last night that her mother’s kidney failure needed urgent surgery, and she wanted to take valuable company items to the black market for a quick turnover.” “I chewed her out, and she even got mad at me!” I froze. My blood slowly turned cold. Ethan. The man for whom I’d pulled countless all-nighters, revising proposals, and braved a blizzard to cross half of New York to queue for special stomach medicine. The man I had silently loved for five entire years, even sacrificing the chance to launch my own brand to support him. Ethan straightened, scoffing. He tossed his Rolls-Royce car keys onto the display stand, where they landed with a sharp clink.

“I’ll vouch for that.” He didn’t even spare me a glance, his eyes filled with nothing but disgust. “Eleanor did say something like that.” “It’s normal for scum from the streets like her to go crazy with envy when she sees a fifty-million-dollar pink diamond.” Every word was like a rusty, dull knife slicing into my nerves. “Ethan, when did I ever say I’d steal something for money?” I bit down hard, tasting blood on my tongue. “Why are you giving false testimony for her?” Ethan pulled out his phone. The screen was shoved directly into my face. It was his latest social media post, already with tens of thousands of likes. The accompanying image was a surveillance screenshot of me searching for documents in the design studio last night. The caption read: “Mistaking garbage for gold is the biggest stain on my life, Ethan Smith.” “Don’t play innocent here.” Ethan looked down at me. “You’re always trying to worm your way into my life, aren’t you, just for my money?” “Now that you realize you can’t get anything out of me, you’ve laid your grubby hands on the company’s confidential assets?” “Ethan, don’t be so harsh on Eleanor.” Chloe nestled closer to Ethan, looking like a frightened, pitiful kitten. “She might really be desperate.” She turned, addressing me in a condescending, charitable tone. “Eleanor, if you just hand over the pink diamond, we won’t call the police. We can resolve this internally, okay?” Mr. Davies impatiently tapped the table. “Eleanor, the public outcry is already out of control!” “The PR department’s phones are ringing off the hook with calls from investors!” “If you don’t produce the diamond, the company will fire you today and blacklist you across the entire industry!” I straightened my spine, refusing to back down. “I didn’t steal it.” “Go ahead and call the police. Investigate my income, search my apartment.” Hearing “search my apartment,” Chloe’s eye twitched violently. But she immediately raised her voice. “What good will searching her apartment do?” “It’s a fifty-million-dollar diamond! You could sell it at any black market or hide it in some sewer. Who would ever find it?” “Eleanor, did you secretly mail the diamond overnight to your crazy brother at that special education school?” My fists clenched. My brother isn’t crazy! He just has Asperger’s Syndrome! His talent in mathematics is far greater than anyone present! Chloe was fabricating lies, even dragging my innocent brother into it, just to solidify my guilt. “Chloe, spreading rumors and defamation, causing significant economic loss, can land you in jail.” I stared at her. “Me, spreading rumors?” Chloe suddenly sneered. She pulled out her phone, attached it to a selfie stick, and opened a live stream. The camera zoomed in on my face. “Everyone! This is Eleanor, the thief who stole the fifty-million-dollar pink diamond!” Chloe, who had been sneering a second ago, instantly burst into tears. “She won’t even return the diamond, and she’s threatening me!” “The company’s hard work, meant for the exhibition, all taken by her to squander on her psycho brother!” The live stream instantly surged to over a hundred thousand viewers. The comments section was flooded with malicious curses. [She looks so poor, turns out she’s a thief!] [Find out where she lives! Kill her whole family!] Ethan stepped in front of the camera, wrapping an arm around Chloe’s shoulder. He looked at me as if I were a pile of garbage. “Don’t worry, everyone, I’ll hire the best legal team in New York for Chloe.” “We won’t let any corporate scoundrel get away with it.” I looked at that loathsome couple. A wave of nausea washed over me. So, five years of genuine affection had been thrown away on nothing. “Ethan, do you really think I stole the diamond?” “Do you really think you’re worthy of my trust?”

“Get out! Our company finds your filth disgusting!” I had just been shoved out of the company building by security when a cup of scalding iced Americano came flying at my face. I dodged, but the bitter coffee splattered against the revolving glass door, soaking my only white work blouse. Outside the building, chaos reigned. My office belongings were in a broken cardboard box, tossed on the steps, covered in muddy shoe prints. A large, glaring splash of red paint marred the center, making it look like a crime scene. Chloe stood inside the door, wearing limited-edition high heels. Several interns who usually sucked up to me crowded around her, all holding up their phones, recording me. “What are you staring at?” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Even your breathing pollutes Smith Group’s air.” “Everyone collectively decided to throw you out like trash.” The entire street was packed with onlookers. Contemptuous stares and whispers felt like knives slicing my face. “She even stole the company’s lifeblood, why isn’t she dead yet?” “I heard she used to get poverty subsidies from the company. Pure ingrate!” I ignored the voices. I knelt, searching through the rubbish on the ground. I picked up a shattered photo frame. Inside, it was a picture of my mother, my brother, and me. My father had died in a car accident years ago, leaving us with crushing debts. My mother had worked construction to put me through college. A shard of broken glass dug deeply into my index finger. A bead of blood welled up. Chloe stepped out. Her slender heel deliberately ground into my design drafts, twisting it twice. She leaned down, whispering in a voice only we could hear: “Eleanor, don’t struggle.” “Just take the blame for this, and you’ll get less abuse.” I slowly stood up. I stared coldly at her Botox-filled face. “You know best where the diamond went.” I lowered my voice, my tone chilling. “Are you sure you deleted the underlying hidden logs of the iris-recognition safe completely?” Chloe’s smug expression instantly froze. Her pupils contracted slightly. But she was a born drama queen. The next second, she stumbled back two steps, slamming her back against the glass door. “Ah—!” Chloe let out a bloodcurdling scream. She collapsed to the ground, clutching her face and wailing. “Eleanor! Why did you hit me!” “I was just telling you to turn yourself in before it’s too late!” “You stole something, but how can you hurt someone too!” The crowd outside instantly erupted. “Holy crap! The thief even dares to hit people!” A slightly overweight male fanatic rushed forward and shoved me hard. I was unprepared. My back slammed against the marble pillar, and a spasm of pain shot through me. “Beat this shameless bitch to death!” The crowd lost control. Countless hands reached out. Someone pulled my hair. Someone tore at my collar. Someone took advantage of the chaos to kick me hard in the shin several times. I could only clench my teeth, fiercely clutching the photo frame to my chest. “What are you doing! Are you rebelling!” The building security guards, armed with riot shields, charged into the crowd, forcibly pushing people away. I leaned against the pillar, gasping for breath. My hair was disheveled, my white shirt torn, exposing my shoulder. Chloe was solicitously helped up by several interns. She hid behind the crowd, a cunning, poisonous smile curling her lips. “Security guards, she stole a fifty-million-dollar diamond and hit me.” Chloe, the villain, cried foul first. “We absolutely cannot let a violent maniac like her remain near the company!” The security guard looked at me with disgust, as if I were something filthy. “Eleanor, Mr. Smith just issued strict orders.” “You’re completely fired.” “Grab your junk and get off this street immediately.” I said nothing. I picked up the broken cardboard box and haphazardly shoved the undestroyed drafts from the ground inside. Hugging the box, I walked down the steps, one by one. Outside, the sun beat down fiercely. My phone vibrated frantically in my pocket. I pulled it out to see a trending news notification: [Former director of a famous New York jewelry company steals fifty-million-dollar pink diamond, a beast in human skin!] The accompanying image was a screenshot of my university mentor’s Ins post. The esteemed old professor, a giant in the design world, had publicly written: “The biggest shame of my life is having taught a student like Eleanor.” Immediately followed by a second post: [I have resigned from all association positions out of shame, unable to face the public.] My mind buzzed and exploded. My fingers trembled uncontrollably. My breathing felt blocked by sandpaper. A SnapChat notification popped up. It was a message from Chloe. [Eleanor, the whole internet is condemning you. Why don’t you get on your knees and beg me? If I’m in a good mood, I might even put in a good word for you. ] I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to smash my phone. I typed a reply. [Chloe, you’re overacting. It’s easy to lose control of the show.] Her reply was instantaneous. [Still so stubborn. You’ll soon find out what true despair feels like.]

“Ellie… they said you’re a thief… they stomped on my drawing board… and they held me in the sink…” On the phone, my fourteen-year-old brother, Leo, was sobbing uncontrollably. In the background, there were sharp jeers and the sound of things smashing. My mind went blank. I dropped the box and ran like a madwoman to flag down a taxi. By the time I reached the special education school, the sky had turned gloomy. The school entrance was blocked, swarming with influencers who had descended from every corner of the city, drawn by the scent of blood. Seven or eight blinding ring lights were pointed at the school gate. “Everyone, look closely! This is the crazy brother of that fifty-million-dollar pink diamond thief!” A yellow-haired influencer held a selfie stick, almost shoving his phone into Leo’s eyes. “To raise such a scoundrel, this little psycho must be rotten to the core too!” The school’s security guard was sweating profusely, trying to block the cameras. “Stop filming! The child is innocent!” “Hey, what the heck! The old man dares to hit me?!” The yellow-haired influencer shrieked dramatically, then grabbed a cup of sour milk tea from a nearby trash can and violently slammed it onto Leo’s head. Sticky tapioca pearls and sour milk tea dripped down Leo’s face. Leo cowered in the corner, clutching his head, trembling all over, letting out unconscious screams. It was a sign of his condition acting up. My eyes instantly turned red. I charged into the crowd, grabbed the yellow-haired influencer by the collar, and shoved him hard. “Get out! Who gave you permission to cause trouble here!” I stood in front of Leo, like a protective mother wolf. “The main culprit is here! Guys, quick, film her!” All cameras instantly swiveled, pointing at me. The flashing lights made it impossible to open my eyes. Just then, the screeching roar of a sports car tore through the commotion. A black Rolls-Royce drove directly onto the sidewalk, stopping at the school gate. The crowd automatically parted. The car door sprang open. Ethan, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his leather shoes spotless, stepped out. Chloe clung to his arm, looking like a helpless bird. She carried a brand-new Hermès Himalaya bag, its perfume scent overpowering the sour smell in the air. “Eleanor, you won’t believe it until it’s staring you in the face, will you?” Ethan walked up to me. He pulled a black card from his suit’s inner pocket, holding it between two fingers, disdainfully swaying it in the air. “Inside here is a million dollars.” He gestured to the ground with his chin. “Now, kneel down.” “Kowtow three times to Chloe and say you were wrong, that you shouldn’t have thrown dirt on her name.” “Then I’ll give you this money, as if charity to a beggar, for your mother’s surgery and to treat your foolish brother.” The surrounding influencers, as if on drugs, furiously pressed their camera shutters. Leo cried out in fear, clutching my shirt corner tightly. I pulled Leo behind me. I turned, staring fixedly at Ethan. The hatred in my eyes was almost palpable. “Ethan, you think a bit of money can help you manipulate everything?” I gritted my teeth, enunciating each word. “Your dear sister right here knows better than anyone where that fifty-million-dollar pink diamond went.” Ethan took a step forward. He grabbed my chin tightly, with so much force it almost crushed my jawbone. “Eleanor, I’m warning you for the last time.” His eyes were menacing. “Dare to bite Chloe again, and I’ll make sure your whole family can’t survive in New York.” He disgustedly pushed my face away. He took a wet wipe Chloe offered him, carefully cleaning his fingers as if he had touched some disgusting virus. When he finished, he crumpled the wipe into a ball and threw it at my face. “Tomorrow, the industry-wide blacklist will be sent to every company.” “Let’s go.” The sports car roared away, leaving a trail of exhaust and the influencers’ unrestrained mockery.

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I was sickly as a child, constantly in and out of the hospital. My mom always said that if I married a man with even an ounce of decency, he’d never be able to bring himself to be harsh with me. But then came an arranged marriage, and I was practically packaged and delivered to Jaxson Hayes, the notorious hothead from the city’s elite circles. Everyone thought the marriage was ridiculous. After all, it was common knowledge that he was in love with Skylar, his childhood best friend and personal boxing coach – a woman who couldn’t stand my frail constitution. While my friends were betting on how many days it would take for me to be sent back, my mom came clutching my leg, her makeup streaked with tears. “Honey, that’s the future head of the Hayes empire. No matter how much of an asshole he is, you just have to grit your teeth and bear it.” “Otherwise, our entire Sterling Group will go bankrupt next month, and thousands will lose their jobs!” I comforted my mom: “Don’t underestimate my sense of responsibility for the family business!”

“Mrs. Hayes? With that tiny frame?” Skylar leaned against the doorframe, the muscles in her arms taut beneath her sports bra. Her gaze swept over me, like she was looking at a fluffy bunny who’d strayed into a boxing gym. “I thought we’d get someone with a little more substance. Turns out, a strong gust of wind could probably blow her away.” I stood in the grand foyer of the Hayes villa, dragging my suitcase. A blast of cold air from the central AC made me let out a tiny sneeze. “Achoo—” The sound was soft and light, almost a kitten’s whimper. Skylar dramatically shivered. “Oh my god, that sound. Anyone who didn’t know would think a kitten got lost.” I rubbed my nose, ignoring her, and continued dragging my suitcase further inside. I’d prepared myself before coming to the Hayes family. As an arranged bride, being unwelcome was normal. As long as things didn’t get too out of hand, there was no point getting into a spat with a boxing coach. “Hey, I’m talking to you.” Skylar snatched my suitcase from behind me, weighing it in her hand. “I’m Skylar, Jaxson Hayes’s personal boxing coach. We’ve also been childhood best friends.” She emphasized “childhood best friends.” “I usually run things around here. Jaxson is busy; he doesn’t have time for household matters.” Daisy, my personal attendant who’d been with me since childhood, finally couldn’t hold back. “Miss Skylar, my lady is Mrs. Hayes, officially married into this family. You’re just a coach…” “Daisy.” I pulled her hand, shaking my head slightly. No need. I was here to fulfill my six-month contract and secure my father’s port development project with the Hayes Corporation. Arguing with someone like her? Winning would be beneath me, and losing would be a complete humiliation. Skylar raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised by my silence, but quickly smiled. “Alright, smart girl. Follow me.” She put me in the furthest annex of the villa, a room on the ground floor at the very end, facing north. The window looked out onto a vine-covered wall, and the radiator was icy cold to the touch – broken. Daisy’s face turned livid with anger. I looked around, sighing inwardly, but kept my expression neutral. “It’s fine, I can live here.” In the evening, I was tucked into bed, sipping the ginger tea Daisy had brewed, when the door opened. I looked up. Jaxson Hayes looked at me, wrapped in a blanket, the corner of his mouth twitching almost imperceptibly. “This is the one from the Sterling family?” He wasn’t talking to me. He turned his head to Skylar behind him. Skylar shrugged. “Yeah, as you can see, the kind that a breeze could knock over.” Jaxson’s gaze returned, sweeping over me one last time. “Don’t cause any trouble for the family.” Five words. No greeting, no pleasantries. He turned and left, Skylar following close behind, the two of them disappearing down the hallway. I put down the ginger tea. I took a deep breath, pushing down the surge of irritation. My mom’s words, whispered repeatedly as she held my hand before I left, echoed in my ears again. “Thousands of families depend on this marriage for their livelihoods, Elara. Our entire business.” I gripped the blanket, my knuckles white from the effort. Bear it. I can bear it.

At six o’clock the next morning, there was a pounding on my door. “Mr. Hayes uses the dining room at seven. You need to be finished and gone by six-thirty.” I sat at the breakfast table, my face pale from lack of sleep. Plain broth, pickled vegetables, and nothing else. At precisely six-thirty, with my bowl still half full, the housekeeper came to clear the table. “Time’s up.” I glanced at the broth, said nothing, put down my spoon, and left. At ten o’clock that morning, Skylar called me to the living room. Jaxson sat on the sofa, scrolling through his phone, not even bothering to lift his eyelids. Skylar slapped a printed document onto the coffee table. “These are the house rules. I’ll say them once, and only once.” “Wake up at six AM, no sleeping in. No medicine bottles in common areas – it’s an eyesore. Jaxson’s study, the gym, and the entire third floor are off-limits.” She paused. “And—Jaxson doesn’t like to be disturbed. Don’t go seeking him out unnecessarily.” I listened, finding it a bit amusing. I’m not some groupie; why would I want to be near him? But there was no need to cause a scene over such a minor thing. “I understand.” Skylar seemed pleased with my obedience. I turned to Jaxson, still wanting to confirm. “Mr. Hayes, do you… agree with all of this?” He finally lifted his eyelids. “What she said is what I mean.” Fine. Nothing more to say, then. That afternoon, I was reading in the private courtyard, soaking up the sun. Skylar suddenly appeared at the gate, holding a focus mitt in her arms. “Elara Sterling, I heard you’ve been sickly since you were a child?” I nodded. Suddenly, she threw the focus mitt at me. It was fast and packed a punch, heading right for my face. My body instinctively moved to catch it, but I forced myself to swerve mid-air, stumbling a couple of steps and falling to the ground. “Cough, cough, cough… why did you suddenly throw something…” I coughed, clutching my chest, my voice sounding weak and wronged. Skylar frowned, staring at me for a few seconds. “Can’t even dodge a simple toss. Pathetic.” She picked up the mitt and walked off. I sat on the ground, slowly unclenching my fist. That was close. I almost caught it. Before dinner, I was carrying the soothing herbal brew Daisy had made for my lungs, walking down the hallway. Skylar emerged from the gym and immediately spotted the bowl in my hands. “Who said you could use the main kitchen?” “Daisy used my own ingredients—” “Your ingredients, maybe, but the utilities are the family’s, right?” She cut me off. “Dump it.” This time, I didn’t immediately comply. I looked at her, my voice still soft, but firm. “Skylar, this brew is for my bronchitis, it’s not some exotic dish. “I don’t want to bother Mr. Hayes with such a small matter, and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t make things difficult for me over it, okay?” Skylar paused, seemingly surprised that I’d talked back. She tilted her head towards the gym. “Do you want Jaxson to come tell you himself?” Jaxson was leaning against a punching bag, a towel draped over his shoulder, his gaze sweeping over casually. He still said nothing. But his silence was his answer. I stood there, clutching the bowl of brew Daisy had spent two hours making. Three thousand families. The port project. Six months. I closed my eyes. I turned and walked to the end of the hallway, pouring the broth into a nearby planter. Skylar laughed out loud behind me. I didn’t turn back. The ceramic bowl, however, now had a silent crack forming along its rim, courtesy of my fingers. She called out to me again. “Wait.”

I stopped. The tension within me ratcheted up even further. Skylar plucked a flower from a nearby potted plant, a playful smile on her face, and brought it close to me. “I hear you have allergies? Does this bother you?” She flicked the bloom, sending a cloud of pollen right into my face. “Achoo—Achoo—” I sneezed several times, tears uncontrollably welling up. Skylar laughed, stepping back, and called down the hallway. “Jaxson, come look! Your wife is hilarious!” Jaxson had appeared at the entrance to the connecting corridor at some point. He glanced at my disheveled, sneezing state, his brow furrowed slightly. But in the end, he just said, “Stop fooling around. It’s dinner time.” Skylar pouted, slung an arm around his shoulder, and walked off with him. “No fun.” Daisy rushed over to help me, tears immediately streaming down her face. “Miss Elara… can we just not put up with this anymore…?” I wiped my face with my sleeve, taking several deep breaths to suppress the sneezes. “It’s fine, Daisy.” I patted her hand. Don’t underestimate my connection to the company! On the fifth day of my stay, the Hayes family hosted a dinner party. It was supposedly for the family elders to “meet the new daughter-in-law.” I was seated at the very end of the table. Jaxson sat next to the head of the table, and Skylar was on his other side, even closer to him than I, his official wife, was. The elders’ gazes darted between Skylar and me, their expressions full of unspoken meaning. As the third dish was served, Aunt Carol spoke up. “Jaxson, your new wife looks rather delicate, but her constitution… how will she ever have children?” “I heard she was always in and out of the hospital as a child. If that’s hereditary…” All eyes turned to me. I put down my forks, ready to deal with it myself. Skylar smiled and placed a bowl of herbal pear soup in front of me. “Elara isn’t feeling well, so I specially asked the kitchen to make this pear soup for her throat.” The elders praised her, “Skylar, you’re so thoughtful.” I looked at the soup. And detected a faint, unwelcome scent. Alcohol. I’m severely allergic to alcohol; it can cause breathing difficulties, and it’s clearly noted on the first page of my medical file. Skylar couldn’t possibly not know. Everyone was watching me. My mom’s words ran through my mind. Three thousand families. Six months. Just bear it. I took a deep breath. Picked up the bowl, and took a sip. Three seconds later, my face flushed, my breathing became rapid, and large red hives erupted on my neck. “Miss Elara!” Daisy rushed in. Skylar covered her mouth, looking innocent. “Oh my goodness, I truly didn’t know Elara was allergic to alcohol! I only added a tiny bit of cooking wine for flavor…” “Allergic to this, allergic to that,” Aunt Carol shook her head. “This constitution might not be able to handle it.” The elders whispered among themselves, their disdainful looks unconcealed. I gasped, standing up, tears streaming down my face. Not from sadness, but from the allergic reaction irritating my tear ducts. But to everyone else, it looked like the new wife was crying embarrassingly at the family dinner. I walked out. As I passed Jaxson, I glanced at him. He hadn’t even put down his forks. Expressionless, he said nothing. Daisy helped me to the door, where my legs suddenly felt weak. I instinctively steadied myself against the doorframe. The solid wooden frame silently indented under my fingertips – five clear prints. I quickly let go, hiding my hands in my sleeves. Deep breaths. Bear it. I can still bear it.

The allergic reaction bothered me for most of the night; Daisy had to give me an anti-allergy shot to stabilize me. The next day, I woke up at six as usual, pretending nothing had happened. At three in the afternoon, I was reading in the private courtyard. Skylar pushed the door open, followed by two distant Hayes relatives. The same two who had been gossiping the loudest in the corner at last night’s dinner party. “Elara Sterling, the elders were very displeased about yesterday’s incident.” Skylar sat opposite me, crossing her legs. “Aunt Carol said that if you have a weak constitution, you should know your place and not embarrass the Hayes family.” I closed my book. “I’m very sorry about yesterday.” My tone was calm. I had no patience for Skylar anymore, but I didn’t want to escalate things. It wouldn’t benefit anyone. “What good is ‘sorry’?” Brenda, the nosy relative, chimed in. “Your father came from nothing, a total nobody, and he actually thought he could marry you into the Hayes family?” I put down my book and looked at her. “I suggest you watch your mouth.” My voice was soft, but the smile was gone. Brenda stared at me, startled, then grew indignant. “What’s with that attitude? Am I wrong? Everyone knows about your mother, how she basically threw herself at your dad back in the day.” “I said.” I cut her off, enunciating each word. “Watch your mouth.” “That’s twice.” The air went silent for a moment. Skylar smiled and patted Brenda’s shoulder, signaling her to back off. Then she stood up, slowly walked over to me, and leaned down. “Elara, don’t get upset. They’re just chatterboxes.” Her voice was very soft, as if soothing a child. “But I am curious, what exactly happened with your mother when she was young?” My body tensed. Skylar straightened up, her expression meaningful. “I heard Aunt Carol talking about it yesterday. Something about an unclear relationship with someone?” “That’s why everyone said your dad was practically begging your mom to marry him. After all, what respectable girl would throw herself at a man like that?” My fingers began to tremble. Not from fear. But from restraint. “Shut up.” “Oh, I’m not saying anything bad.” Skylar smiled, spreading her hands. “That’s just what everyone says—” “I said shut up.” I stood up. My chair slid back sharply, nearly a meter, hitting the wall with a loud thud. Skylar paused, but quickly recovered her smile. She thought I was just bluffing. After all, in her eyes, I was just a sickly girl who could be blown over by a gust of wind; what threat could I possibly pose? The two women behind her also laughed. “Oh, she’s getting defensive.” “Why are you so upset? Guilty conscience?” Skylar looked down at me, her eyes filled with knowing malice. She knew I wouldn’t dare to do anything. This marriage held the Sterling Group’s lifeline, and I couldn’t jeopardize it. So her next sentence was spoken exceptionally slowly, exceptionally clearly. “Look at you, so frail, always in the ER. Exactly like your mother when she was young.” “Just like your mother, a cheap little gold digger, born to leech off men.” “Snap.” It wasn’t the sound of a slap. It was the sound of the spine of the hardcover book in my hands being crushed between my two fingers. Splinters of wood clattered to the floor. The living room fell silent. Skylar looked down at the deformed book in my hand, her smile finally freezing on her face. I looked up. Tears still clung to my eyelashes, my voice still soft, still carrying my naturally soft, almost whiny tone. But every word was like a razor blade. “Skylar.” “You insult me, I can let it go.” “You bully me, I can pretend it didn’t happen.” “But if you dare to say one more word to insult my mother—” I let go of the fragments in my hand, slowly taking a step towards her. Skylar instinctively took half a step back.

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My husband’s first love suddenly had a depressive episode and jumped from a building. In a fit of rage, he dragged me, eight months pregnant, to a drop tower ride, ordering someone to forcibly strap me in. “If you hadn’t deliberately provoked Scarlett, why would she have a depressive episode and jump?” Suffering from acrophobia, I tearfully apologized to him, begged him to let me go, and promised I would never appear before Scarlett again. But he just shook his head coldly. “Evelyn, for the sake of the child, I won’t divorce you.” “But the pain you caused Scarlett, I’ll make you repay it a hundred, a thousand times over!” He had them set the ride to run for an hour, then turned and left. As the drop tower slowly climbed higher, I struggled and screamed in terror. The moment my body lost all sense of gravity, a warm gush of fluid rushed out of me. Three days later, he finally remembered me, still suspended on the drop tower. “Evelyn, Scarlett is fine now. If you kneel and apologize to her, I’ll let you down.” What he didn’t know was that the high-flying drop tower was already drenched in blood, and the child he had long anticipated had been violently thrown from my body, reduced to a bloody mess…

“This morning, Dr. Miller called me. He said that woman didn’t go for her prenatal check-up. What new trick is she trying to pull to get my attention?” Asher Thorne spoke, his brows tightly furrowed, a flicker of disgust in his eyes. Mr. Henderson, the old butler standing by, paled slightly and spoke with a trembling voice, “Sir, Madam… I don’t think she’s been let down yet. And Madam has acrophobia; she doesn’t even dare go out onto the second-floor balcony normally. She’s also in her late pregnancy. What if something happens?” Hearing this, Asher’s expression paused, then he asked, puzzled, “Is that so? Evelyn has acrophobia?” Without waiting for the butler to finish, he waved his hand dismissively, “It’s just a drop tower, not a real jump. Let her feel scared; maybe then she won’t bully Scarlett again.” At this, the old butler dared not say more. The amusement park manager, however, couldn’t help but interject, “But three days ago, Madam was crying hysterically at first, and then there was no sound at all. She’s carrying your child, sir; that’s your flesh and blood. Don’t you want to check on Madam…?” Asher’s expression instantly shifted from understanding to contempt. “I knew she was faking her acrophobia. How else could she make no sound at all while sitting on a drop tower? Evelyn is as calculating as ever. Fine, let her stay on the drop tower for another day. Tomorrow, bring her to Scarlett to kneel and apologize, and we can put this behind us.” With that, he waved his hand, cutting off the manager’s next words, and walked towards the bedroom. On our marital bed, Scarlett Vance lay half-naked. Asher gently walked to her side, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The next second, he leaned down and kissed her swollen lips. The person on the bed moaned, opening her eyes. Gently, she tried to push Asher away. “Asher, this is your and Evelyn’s marital bed. Evelyn will be heartbroken if she finds out.” “And about what happened earlier, Asher, I just love you too much. I thought if I died, Evelyn wouldn’t cause trouble for you because of me anymore. I never wanted you to punish her for my sake. How about I go apologize to Evelyn?” Scarlett bit her lower lip, looking sad and remorseful. Just as expected, seeing Scarlett like this, Asher couldn’t hold back anymore: His large hand roughly massaged Scarlett’s breasts, and he flipped her over, pinning her beneath him. “Scarlett, you’re just too kind. If it weren’t for you back then, I’d be dead. Even your acrophobia is from saving me. When I think of someone as gentle and kind as you being pushed to jump by Evelyn, my heart aches. If there’s a next time, even if she’s carrying my child, I’ll make her pay with her life…” Asher tenderly kissed the small scratches Scarlett had from her fall, his eyes filled with heartache.

The two of them were intimate on my marital bed. The wedding photo by the bedside shook. Looking at the picture of myself, full of deep affection, and a cold Asher. I realized then that even souls have tears. But Asher, you don’t need to wait for a next time. Because… I was already dead. At that time, I, terrified, wanted to run. He watched, eyes wide open, as I, clutching my eight-month pregnant belly, scurried around like a headless chicken. Finally, he ordered his bodyguards to drag me back. Losing patience, he pinned me to the drop tower and strapped me in. He watched, eyes wide open, as I screamed and wailed in terror as the drop tower ascended higher. When the gush of fluid came from my lower body, I cried, telling him my water broke, begging him to save our child. He hesitated for a moment, but Scarlett, nestled in his arms, softly reminded him, “I thought Evelyn’s due date wasn’t for another week? But she does look really scared. She even wet herself before going up. Maybe just let it go? I’m fine…” The next second, Asher’s face was filled with disgust. “Evelyn! You’re truly sickening, using our child as a bargaining chip for attention. You stay up there and reflect!” A hundred meters up, the cold wind made my teeth chatter, and my stomach pain grew worse. Realizing the baby was about to be born, I desperately tried to break free from the ropes binding my hands, until I tore off a layer of skin, gaining a tiny bit of freedom. It wasn’t until the third ascent of the drop tower that I tried again with all my might and finally heard a kitten-like cry. But, utterly weak, I didn’t realize that the drop tower had already reached the very top again. I didn’t even get a clear look, couldn’t tell if my baby was a boy or a girl. The next second, due to extreme weightlessness, she plunged downwards. I frantically tried to grab her, but with old injuries on my hands, I couldn’t hold onto the child. I screamed and cried heartbrokenly, only able to watch that tiny body fall and turn into a bloody mess. And my fresh blood, from top to bottom, streamed through the air, like a bloody rainfall in June. I stopped breathing amidst my painful screams. And what was Asher doing then? He gathered the city’s most renowned doctors, all just to ensure Scarlett’s minor arm scratches wouldn’t leave a scar. He bought 9,999 roses, snapped up a one-of-a-kind piece of jewelry, and presented it to Scarlett, simply hoping his frightened first love would no longer be scared. And when others tried to report news of me to him, he impatiently interrupted, “Even if she died, she brought it upon herself.” ……. “Alright, her due date is in two days. Bring Evelyn over to apologize to Scarlett. She was so scared she wet herself earlier; she must be filthy. Make sure she cleans up before she comes.” Asher worked with Scarlett sitting on his lap. Scarlett’s small hand drew circles on his chest. “Maybe just let it go? I believe Evelyn didn’t mean it. After all, I shouldn’t have come back. But I just wanted to be by your side; I really didn’t want you two to fight because of me.” Asher lovingly caught her mischievous hand. “Scarlett, you’re my savior. For that alone, I will always protect you. She is my wife, and she should tolerate you with me. Yet she deliberately targets you and provokes you every time.” “I can’t even imagine, if the fire department hadn’t saved you in time, I might never forgive myself in this lifetime.” Hearing this, a trace of unnaturalness flashed across Scarlett’s face. She shrunk her neck and said no more.

My lips curved into a bitter smile. Six months ago, Scarlett, who had been abroad, suddenly returned. Asher said she was alone and helpless, and without a word, brought her to live with us. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I even felt it was hard for a young woman and took care of her in every way. Until one time, she poured a glass of red wine over her own head, then knelt and repeatedly kowtowed to me, begging me to let her go. After that, Asher’s gaze towards me began to change. That day, he completely ignored my explanations, threw me into the attic for three days without food, and sternly warned me, “Evelyn, you’ve disappointed me too much! Scarlett’s significance to me is beyond your imagination. If you target Scarlett again, even if you are my wife, I will make you pay the price.” Such incidents occurred repeatedly afterwards, and Asher’s gaze towards me grew colder and colder. I had originally planned to divorce Asher after the baby was born. But I never expected Scarlett to suddenly jump from a building. And the culprit behind her jump was the abusive messages and vicious voice mails I supposedly sent her. Those words were indeed hard to accept, but they weren’t mine. But Asher didn’t believe me. His heart ached for Scarlett, to the point of redness in his eyes. He even disregarded our unborn child, determined to avenge his beloved. “Sir… Madam… she seems to be… you should really go see for yourself.” Asher froze. Then, his face filled with impatience. “After all this time, she still dares to throw a tantrum?!” The amusement park manager hesitated, finally saying with difficulty, “No, sir, it’s just that Madam… seems to have stopped breathing…” Asher’s large hand, embracing Scarlett, stiffened. After a few seconds of silence, he smiled indifferently. “Her methods of escaping punishment are getting more elaborate. To avoid kneeling and apologizing to Scarlett, she’s even thought of faking her death?!” “Tell her, even if she’s dead, she has to apologize to Scarlett first! Otherwise, don’t blame me for being unkind!” Cold sweat began to trickle down the amusement park manager’s forehead. He wanted to say more, but seeing Asher’s furious face, he eventually retreated. Scarlett looked up innocently. “Asher, maybe just let it go? Even though Evelyn doesn’t like me and makes things difficult for me, she is still your wife. As long as I can be by your side, I can bear it.” Asher held her tighter. “Scarlett, you don’t need to be afraid of Evelyn, that narrow-minded woman. She can’t compare to a single strand of your hair. This time, I’ll teach her a lesson so she’ll know her place in the future.” “But…” “Alright, just listen to Asher. You can’t go wrong.” A tear fell on the back of my hand, and only then did I realize that, at some point, I had been crying profusely. Do souls also feel pain? Asher said no more, but for the rest of his work, he was restless. In the span of an hour, he casually glanced towards the door no less than ten times. Finally, he slammed his laptop shut, rubbing his hair in frustration. Completely out of patience, he gently coaxed Scarlett, “Scarlett, I don’t know what Evelyn is up to. I’ll go grab her now and make her apologize to you.”

Arriving at the entrance of the amusement park. He strode inside. Before he even got close, he saw the blue drop tower stained with blood. The smell of blood still lingered in the air. He covered his nose. “Why does it smell so bad? What exactly is Evelyn up to?!” The amusement park manager, hearing this, had cold sweat pouring down his forehead. “Sir, why don’t you see for yourself…” He stepped aside. Revealing me, covered by a white sheet, and a small, white-sheeted lump. Asher’s large hand hovered between the two white sheets. Unconsciously, his brows furrowed into a deep frown, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. I clutched my chest, anticipating what he would see next, my heart aching to the point of suffocation, yet I couldn’t tear my gaze away. Finally, he reached for the tiny lump. The moment he lifted the sheet, a sharp scream came from behind him. “Asher, why did you bring a dead cat’s body over?!” Scarlett shrieked, burrowing into Asher’s arms. Asher’s still-panicked face froze, then quickly seemed to snap back to reality, kicking the child’s body away. He then ordered someone to find a few stray dogs, and the beasts, smelling meat, swarmed over. I screamed and lunged forward, but I couldn’t do anything. I wildly questioned him, tore at him, but it was useless. I was just a soul now; no matter how much pain I felt, no one could see it. But I was truly unwilling! What did I do wrong?! What did my child do wrong?! Looking at the remnants on the ground, a malevolent glint flashed in Scarlett’s eyes. “Stop playing tricks! Where is Evelyn?! Where is she?!” “Wasn’t it enough that she provoked Scarlett into jumping? Now she’s using a dead cat’s body to scare her! I never knew she was so vicious!” “Evelyn, aren’t you most concerned about your child? If you don’t come out now, after the baby is born, we’ll divorce, and you won’t win custody! You’ll never see your child again in this lifetime!” I sank to the ground, crying and laughing blankly. Yes, my parents were gone. Asher had also betrayed me. The only thing I cared about most was this child. But she was killed by her own father, and in the end, her body was completely gone! Asher Thorne! You will go to hell! He shouted furiously, demanding I get out. But no one responded to him. Finally, the amusement park manager bit the bullet and walked over, slowly pulling back the white sheet covering my body, and stammered, “Sir, Madam is right here! As for the child, you just fed her to the stray dogs…”

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For three years, I was Ethan Vance’s secret lover and exclusive ghostwriter. By day, I was his most useless, decorative assistant, a target for ridicule; by night, I was the stand-in in his arms, desired and exploited, paving his way to the top with my talent. He always said my words had a special spark, that I was indispensable to him. Until his long-lost love, Serena Monroe, joined the company. He then shamelessly put her name on all my hard work, casually telling others, “She’s just a ghostwriter. Once Serena gets the hang of things, she can be let go.” He thought I’d grovel like a dog for scraps. But what he didn’t know was that I stayed by his side not for him, but for the top-tier resources he controlled. Now, my portfolio was glittering with success. Ethan Vance, I’m done being your stepping stone! “Mr. Davis, this ‘Starfall Project’ proposal is an absolute stroke of genius! Especially that core concept of reverse marketing, it’s simply brilliant! Whose masterpiece is this from your esteemed company?” In the spacious, bright top-floor conference room, Mr. Davis, the client, showered us with praise, excitedly pounding the table. I stood in the most inconspicuous corner of the room, my clicker tightly clutched in my hand. My palms were slick with cold sweat, but I forced myself to remain calm, my gaze instinctively drawn to the man seated at the head of the table – Ethan Vance. He was my direct supervisor, and my secret boyfriend of three years. This one-hundred-and-twenty-page proposal was the fruit of my grueling effort, having pulled seven all-nighters, researched thousands of competitor files, and even pushed myself to the point of stomach bleeding. Every single word, every chart, was steeped in my blood and sweat. I was fully convinced that this time, Ethan would finally keep his promise and give me the credit I deserved in front of the client. However, Ethan merely smiled, his handsome yet uncaring face beaming with triumph. His long fingers gently pointed to Serena Monroe, who sat beside him in a designer Chanel suit, her makeup meticulously applied. “Mr. Davis, you have a keen eye. This is Serena Monroe, our newly appointed Creative Director. She’s an Ivy League graduate with top honors, and she personally spearheaded this project.” Boom— Something exploded in my head. A ringing instantly drowned out everything around me. Serena Monroe? She’d only been with the company for less than three days! She hadn’t even grasped our company’s core business logic. All she did every day was sip afternoon tea and touch up her makeup in the office. She couldn’t even format a PowerPoint presentation! How dare she claim my hard work as her own? I stared hard at Ethan, trying to find a flicker of guilt or a hint in his eyes. But there was nothing. He didn’t even spare me a glance. Serena demurely lowered her head, perfectly tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, her voice sickly sweet: “Mr. Davis, you flatter me. It was just a fleeting inspiration. Mostly, it’s thanks to Ethan’s excellent leadership; he gave me so much inspiration.” “Hahahaha! What a talented couple, a powerhouse duo indeed!” Mr. Davis burst into laughter, then changed the subject. “However, Ms. Monroe, I have a question regarding the third phase of implementation. How did you derive that emotional resonance conversion rate estimation model?” The air in the conference room suddenly went silent for a second. Serena’s smile froze. She looked at Ethan for help, her eyes holding a look of pure, unadulterated cluelessness. How could she possibly know the derivation model? She didn’t even know what that phrase meant! Ethan’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. Then, under the table, he gently kicked my foot. He turned his head, glaring at me with extreme impatience, and in a low voice audible only to the three of us, he commanded, “Summer Reed, what are you spacing out for? Prompt her!” My heart, at that moment, utterly froze. Three years. Like a ghost hidden from the light, I hid in his shadow, ghostwriting countless viral campaigns for him, helping him climb from a regular supervisor all the way to a branch VP position. He always liked to hold me late at night, stroking my hair, saying, “Summer, your words have such a spark. Others only see my brilliance, but only I know you’re my soul. Once I secure my position, I’ll make sure you stand proudly in front of everyone.” I believed him. Like a fool, for that vague and ethereal promise, I willingly endured the cold shoulders from everyone in the company, content to be a “decorative assistant” who only served tea and water. But now, with his dream girl back, I didn’t even qualify as a shadow. I had become a mere prompter, to be discarded at any moment. I took a deep breath, forcing down the metallic taste of blood rising in my throat. I walked behind Serena, bent down, and with extremely clear articulation, recited the complex derivation model word for word. Serena repeated it, stammering, like a parrot mimicking a machine. Mr. Davis, though still a bit confused, finally nodded in satisfaction and signed the contract worth tens of millions. After the meeting, the crowd dispersed. Ethan sat in his chair, loosening his tie, and casually tossed an envelope at my feet. “Good job today, didn’t mess up. Here’s your bonus.” I glanced down at the thin envelope. It contained at most five thousand dollars. The commission for this project was at least half a million. I bent down to pick up the envelope, a self-mocking cold smile playing on my lips. “Thank you, Mr. Vance.” Ethan stood up, looking down at me condescendingly. “Summer, I know you feel wronged. But Serena just returned to the country and needs some impressive achievements to establish herself. You’re just an associate degree holder. Even if your name was on it, the client wouldn’t take you seriously. Be sensible, and there’ll be plenty of benefits for you later.” “I understand,” I replied submissively, my voice so calm it even scared myself. “Good that you understand.” Ethan patted my cheek, satisfied. “Go book a Michelin-starred restaurant for Serena. I’m celebrating her success tonight.” I turned and walked out of the conference room. The moment I closed the door, I took out my phone and opened my banking app. Looking at the transfer that had just arrived in my account, I couldn’t help but smile. That was the last bit of money I’d secretly earned from freelancing and stock trading over the years. With those five thousand dollars, I had finally saved enough for my brother’s last surgery and completely paid off the usurious loans our family owed. Three years of shackles shattered into dust at that moment. Ethan Vance, did you really think I loved you so much I’d lost myself? You were wrong. I initially got into your bed, becoming your secret lover, solely for the top-tier project resources you controlled—resources I could quickly monetize. Now, my portfolio was thick enough to open doors at any top company in the industry. I owe you nothing. Just you wait, Ethan Vance.

The next morning, I walked into Ethan’s office as usual, carrying a warm black coffee. He was leaning back in his chair, chatting and laughing with Serena. Seeing me enter, Serena immediately wiped the smile from her face and put on the air of a superior director. “Assistant Reed, just put the coffee down,” Serena said imperiously. “Oh, by the way, I heard you have an idea bank on your computer, filled with creative drafts from over the years? Could you copy it for me? I’m a bit short on inspiration lately.” I sneered inwardly. That was my accumulated treasure trove of material from three years of day and night work, my core competitive advantage. She thinks she can just open her mouth and claim it? “Director Monroe, those are just rough drafts, completely disorganized. I’m afraid they’d offend your eyes,” I said, feigning apprehension, lowering my head. “Why are you talking so much nonsense?” Ethan tapped the table impatiently. “Serena asked you to copy it, so copy it. It’s your honor if your subpar stuff can give Serena some inspiration. Go quickly!” “Yes, Mr. Vance.” I obediently retreated. Back at my desk, I opened the folder named “Inspiration Bank” and transferred all core, valuable proposals to my encrypted cloud drive. Then, I downloaded hundreds of generic, free PowerPoint templates and cliché ad copy from the internet, bundled them into a folder, named it “Core Creative Library,” and sent it to Serena. Trying to get something for nothing? Dream on. That afternoon, while making tea in the pantry, I called my headhunter. “Hello, Mark? It’s Summer Reed. Yes, have you seen my portfolio? …Okay, Starwing Media? No problem, I can interview anytime.” Starwing Media, the undisputed industry leader, and Ethan’s company’s biggest rival. Hanging up the phone, I felt a huge weight lift from my shoulders. That evening was the company’s celebration banquet. The banquet hall buzzed with lights, laughter, and clinking glasses. Ethan, with Serena on his arm, moved among investors and major clients, elevating her to a pedestal. As the nominal “chief assistant,” I was relegated to the furthest table, crammed with a few interns. “Hey, look at Summer Reed, she looks so pathetic. She followed Mr. Vance for three years and couldn’t even get a title. Now that his official girlfriend is back, she’s completely out of the picture.” “Right? An associate degree holder, really thought she could become a Cinderella story. She only had some looks, good enough to warm Mr. Vance’s bed, that’s all.” The colleagues’ whispers stung like knives, but I just continued eating the food on my plate, expressionless. What were a few cold words? Compared to what I was about to do, this was just a warm-up. After a few rounds of drinks, a corpulent, greasy-faced Mr. Hayes, a key channel partner for the company and notoriously lecherous, swayed over with a drink in hand. “Well, well, isn’t this little Summer? Why are you hiding here drinking alone?” Mr. Hayes plopped down beside me, his greasy hand brazenly rested on my thigh, giving it a hard squeeze through the thin fabric. My body froze, my stomach churning with nausea. I shot up, backing away a couple of steps, and said coldly, “Mr. Hayes, you’re drunk. Show some respect.” “Don’t act so high and mighty!” Mr. Hayes, his pride wounded, grew angry. “Everyone knows you’re Ethan Vance’s cast-off! What, Ethan Vance gets to sleep with you, but I can’t even touch you? Spend a night with me tonight, and I’ll get you a big deal!” The commotion drew everyone’s attention. Everyone stopped what they were doing, watching me like a show. I looked at Ethan. He stood not far away, glass in hand, his eyes as cold as if he were looking at a stranger. Not only did he not step in to stop it, but a smirk played on his lips, as if enjoying the spectacle. At that moment, my last illusion about him shattered completely. This was the man I had spent three years with. In his eyes, I was nothing more than a plaything to be used to appease clients. Just then, Serena Monroe sauntered over, swaying her hips. She daintily grabbed Mr. Hayes’s arm, cooing, “Oh, Mr. Hayes, why bother with an ignorant assistant? Come, Serena will toast you. Consider it an apology on her behalf.” Mr. Hayes’s attention immediately shifted to Serena, his eyes lecherously fixated on her cleavage. “Ms. Monroe is much more sensible. Fine, I’ll give Mr. Vance some face!” Serena turned, looking at me with a triumphant gaze, and falsely said, “Assistant Reed, aren’t you going to thank Mr. Hayes for his generosity? In the future, in the workplace, keep your eyes open and don’t always cause trouble.” I looked at the despicable pair and suddenly found it utterly comical. Without a word, I picked up a glass of red wine from the table and, to everyone’s stunned silence, splashed it directly onto Mr. Hayes’s greasy face with a loud “splash”! “Ah! You bitch!” Mr. Hayes shrieked, clutching his eyes and cursing. The entire hall fell silent. Ethan Vance’s face turned ashen. He rushed over, raising his hand to slap me. “Summer Reed! Have you lost your mind?!” I met his gaze without fear, and coldly uttered three words: “I was disgusted.” With that, I walked out of the banquet room without looking back, leaving the mess behind me entirely.

The next morning, I arrived at the company on time, wearing high heels and exquisite makeup. I didn’t report to Ethan’s office. Instead, I went straight to my desk, took out a cardboard box, and began packing my things. Just as I placed a few professional books into the box, Serena Monroe stormed over, absolutely furious. “Summer Reed! What garbage did you send me yesterday! All those messed-up templates and nonsensical copy—that’s your ‘creative library’?! You dared to mess with me!” Her sharp voice shattered the quiet of the office, and everyone peeked out to watch the show. I paused, slowly raised my head, looking at her with a half-smile. “Director Monroe, how can you call this messing with you? Aren’t you an Ivy League graduate with top honors? True creativity comes from the mind; those basic materials are just a foundation for a genius like you. Or… can you not even understand these simple things and have to rely on copying my original drafts to get work done?” “You!” Serena’s face flushed crimson as I struck a nerve. Her eyes suddenly darted around, and she spotted the black external hard drive on my desk, which I hadn’t unplugged yet. That was my personal hard drive, containing all my hard work from the past three years, including the preliminary outlines of several major, unreleased proposals. She lunged at it like a madwoman, ripping out the hard drive, clutching it tightly in her hand, her face twisted in a sneer. “Fine! If you won’t give it to me, I’ll destroy it! I’ll make sure you get nothing either!” With that, she turned and ran towards the water dispenser, threatening to throw the hard drive into the boiling water. “Serena Monroe! How dare you!” I was utterly enraged. I charged forward, grabbed a handful of her hair, and yanked hard. “Ah!” Serena let out a bloodcurdling scream. Her hand loosened, and the hard drive dropped onto the carpet. I kicked the hard drive behind me and then delivered a resounding slap across her face. “Smack!” The crisp sound of the slap echoed through the office. Serena clutched her face, looking at me in disbelief, tears instantly welling in her eyes. “Summer Reed! What are you doing!” A furious roar came from behind me. Ethan Vance strode over, charging forward, and roughly shoved me away. His force was immense. I was completely unprepared and crashed heavily into the corner of a nearby desk. An excruciating pain shot through my lower back, and I groaned, falling to the floor. Ethan didn’t even glance at me. He lovingly embraced Serena, carefully checking the red mark on her face. “Serena, are you okay? Does it hurt?” Serena leaned into Ethan’s chest, crying her heart out, tears streaming down her face, and pointed at me, accusing, “Ethan, I just wanted to borrow some files from Assistant Reed’s hard drive to look at. Not only did she refuse, but she called me useless and even hit me… I’m so scared…” Ethan suddenly turned his head, his eyes like knives, glaring at me. “Summer Reed! You’ve gone completely out of control! Serena is your superior; how dare you lay a hand on her? Apologize to Serena immediately! Otherwise, I’ll have HR fire you right now!” I leaned on the table corner, struggling to stand. The pain in my lower back made me break into a cold sweat, but my spine was ramrod straight. I looked at the man I had once loved, hated, and now only felt disgust for, and suddenly I laughed. A laugh that was incredibly relieved, incredibly defiant. “Fire me? Ethan Vance, you’ve got it wrong.” I walked to my desk, picked up the already packed cardboard box, and slammed the pre-printed resignation letter onto his face. “It’s me who’s firing you.” Ethan was stunned by the resignation letter. Then, his face twisted into an expression of extreme contempt and mockery. “Resign? Summer Reed, have you lost your mind? What do you think you are without me? A useless associate degree holder, what else can you do besides writing a few cringeworthy copies? Believe it or not, the moment you walk out that door, no company in this industry will dare hire you!” “Within three days, you’ll be crawling back on your knees, begging me to take you back!” I looked at his arrogant and smug face and felt only sadness. “Ethan Vance, remember what you said today. I hope our paths never cross again.” Clutching the cardboard box, I walked out of the company doors without looking back, ignoring all the shocked, scornful, and mocking gazes. The sunlight outside was blinding, but I felt a warmth and freedom I had never experienced before. Begging you in three days? Sorry, but I already have an offer for Creative Director at Starwing Media.

Starwing Media, located in the core area of the city’s most bustling Central Business District. When I stepped into the top floor of the building, I was greeted by Starwing’s CEO, Liam Kincaid. He wore a impeccably tailored dark grey bespoke suit. Behind his gold-rimmed glasses, his eyes were deep and sharp, exuding the calm composure and intimidating presence of someone at the top. Unlike Ethan Vance’s superficiality, built on stolen achievements, Liam Kincaid was a true industry titan—decisive, with keen insight. “Summer Reed?” He flipped through my portfolio, his long fingers tapping rhythmically on the desk. “This ‘Starfall Project’—the industry credits Serena Monroe for it, but after reviewing the underlying logic and writing style, it’s identical to the other cases in this portfolio. You wrote it, didn’t you?” My heart skipped a beat, then I nodded candidly. “Yes.” Liam Kincaid closed the folder, a hint of admiration playing on his lips. “Ethan Vance is truly a fool, treating a raw talent as a mere stepping stone. Welcome to Starwing, Director Reed. Here, we only value ability, not background.” “Thank you, Mr. Kincaid.” I took a deep breath, feeling my blood stir with excitement. Life at Starwing was incredibly busy but immensely fulfilling. Without menial tasks and endless emotional manipulation, I could finally dedicate all my energy to the creative work I loved. Liam Kincaid gave me immense authority and trust. Leading my new team, we brainstormed day and night, tearing things down and rebuilding, then tearing down and rebuilding again. In just one month, the “Project Lumina” full-case marketing campaign I spearheaded became an overnight sensation. Not only did it secure Starwing its biggest S-tier client of the year, but it also shattered industry conversion rate records. My name, “Summer Reed,” appeared prominently on the front pages of major industry media for the first time. No longer someone’s assistant, no longer someone’s shadow, I was Starwing Media’s Star Creative Director! Meanwhile, Ethan Vance’s life was going downhill. Without me, his ghostwriter, the quality of his company’s creative output plummeted. Serena Monroe, that incompetent woman, couldn’t hold up the facade at all. Her cobbled-together proposals were torn apart by clients. I heard that in just two months, Ethan had lost three major clients. His company’s performance was cut in half, and the board of directors put immense pressure on him. He finally panicked. He started frantically calling and SnapChatting me. “Summer, have you thrown enough of a tantrum? Come back, your position is still waiting for you.” “Summer, Serena really is incompetent, I admit I was wrong. As long as you come back, I’ll promote you to Associate Director immediately!” “Summer Reed! Don’t push your luck! Do you think Starwing really values you? They’re just using you to get at me!” Looking at those messages on my screen, which ranged from patronizing offers to desperate fury, I found it utterly ridiculous. I immediately blocked his number and turned my attention to preparing for the next, even bigger project.

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I was suffering from a rare form of retrograde amnesia. Every morning I woke up, I’d forgotten everything that happened the day before. My husband, Christian, was my only memory anchor. Every day, he would patiently tell me, “You’re Price, 29 years old, my wife, and we’re very much in love.” Until I found a filled diary deep within the study. Flipping to the first page, it was my handwriting: “Don’t believe anything Christian says.” “Cowell isn’t his cousin, she’s his childhood sweetheart.” “You’re not sick; he’s the one who’s been poisoning you.” Today was the 1001st time I’d discovered the truth, and the first day I decided to play along. I opened my eyes that morning, my mind a complete blank. “Awake?” I turned my head and saw a man in a bathrobe sitting on the edge of the bed. “Who am I?” I asked, instinctively. The man smiled, reaching out to ruffle my hair. “You’re Price, my wife. You’re sick; you forget everything from the day before.” He pointed to a photo frame on the nightstand. “That’s our wedding photo.” In the picture, I was in a wedding dress, leaning against him. But strangely, the photo’s edge had obvious creases. “Then who are you?” “Christian.” He held my hand, his fingertips warm. “Your only memory anchor.” I nodded, accepting the explanation. Christian helped me out of bed, squeezed toothpaste onto my brush, and even meticulously combed my hair. “What do you want to do today?” I looked at myself in the mirror. “I don’t know. I don’t remember anything.” “Then leave it to me.” Christian wrapped his arms around me from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “We have a family doctor coming for a recheck this morning. This afternoon, I’ll take you for a walk in the garden, and tonight…” Before he could finish, the doorbell rang. Christian released me, his brow furrowing almost imperceptibly. “That must be Dr. Cowell.” I followed him downstairs. A woman in a white coat stood in the living room. She turned around, and her eyes clearly brightened when she saw Christian. “Christian, how is Price today?” Christian naturally walked over to Cowell, taking the medical bag from her hand. Their fingers brushed as they exchanged it, and neither pulled away. Cowell looked at me, a swift, appraising look flashing in her eyes. “Price, let’s measure your memory baseline today.” For the last question of the test, she pointed to Christian. “Who is he?” “My husband.” Cowell’s pen paused, and the corners of her mouth turned up. “Basic cognition is still present, but Christian, I still recommend increasing the dosage.” She finished packing her instruments. As she stood up, her fingers casually brushed the back of Christian’s hand. I sat on the sofa and watched Cowell stand on tiptoe at the door, whispering something in his ear. When he closed the door and returned, his face had resumed its programmed tenderness. “Price, what do you want for lunch today?” I stared into his eyes. “What did she tell you outside just now?” Christian froze for a moment. Then, a scrutinizing look flashed in his eyes. “Why are you asking that?” I lowered my head, twisting the hem of my shirt. “She comes every day. She’s so good to me.” “Dr. Cowell is just doing her job.” Christian pulled me into his embrace. The faint scent of cedarwood on him was the same as the scent on Cowell. “Price, you have to remember, in this world, I’m the only one who truly cares about you.” “Don’t believe anything anyone else says.” I nodded obediently, leaning against his chest, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Christian went to the office in the afternoon, and I was alone, sunbathing in the yard. Paul, the housekeeper, brought me fruit, looking at me as if he wanted to say something. “Mrs. Price, do you really not remember anything?” I shook my head blankly. “Christian says I’m sick.” Paul’s lips parted, and he ultimately sighed. “Then listen to Mr. Christian. He’s looking out for you.” As he turned to walk away, I heard him murmur. “Poor thing, she can’t even hold onto what her parents left her…” I was about to ask more, when the sound of a car engine reached the yard gate. Cowell arrived with her medical bag, an apologetic look on her face. “So sorry, Price, I forgot to give you your shot this morning. Just remembered and came right over.” With that, she took out a syringe. “This is a new nerve-boosting medication. Christian agreed to start you on it today.” I instinctively recoiled. But she grabbed my hand, her grip surprisingly strong. “Price, be good. It’s for your own good.” I struggled a bit, and she immediately frowned. “Don’t move around, or it’ll hurt.” The needle pierced my skin, and before long, I fell into a heavy sleep. I had a terrible dream. In the dream, I stood at the edge of a cliff. Christian and Cowell embraced. “Price, jump! Jumping will set you free!” I didn’t want to, I wanted to run away. But Christian blocked me, forcing me step by step to the very edge. “Price, once you’re dead, I’ll get all the shares!” With that, he suddenly shoved me off. “Ah!” I jolted awake, but no one was around. Through the greenhouse glass, I saw two people talking. I shook my groggy head and suddenly spoke. “Christian, are we really married?” Their conversation stopped abruptly. Christian turned his head, his eyes in that instant becoming terrifying. He walked towards me, step by step. “Why are you asking that?” His gaze made me tremble with fear. “I just found it strange. Why do we only have one wedding photo?” “Why is there no trace of my past anywhere in this house?” He gripped my hand, so hard my bones ached. “Because you’re sick, Price.” “When you have an episode, you destroy things – you tear up photos, smash furniture.” “To protect you, and to protect our memories, I’ve put everything away. Don’t you trust me?” He looked at me, his eyes flashing with pain. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have doubted you.” Christian’s expression softened, and he pulled me into his arms. “It’s okay. I know you’re sick. I’ll stay with you until you’re cured.” I leaned on his shoulder, my gaze drifting over it to Cowell, who still stood nearby. Perhaps due to the medication, I fell asleep exceptionally early that night. At 2 AM, I woke up, thirsty. I got out of bed, fumbled my way to the kitchen, and as I poured water, I noticed the light in the greenhouse was still on. On a strange impulse, I walked over. Through the glass, I saw Cowell sitting in a wicker chair, wearing a bathrobe. Christian stood behind her, leaning over to massage her shoulders. “Was today’s dosage too strong? She actually started to suspect things today.” His voice carried to me. Cowell tilted her head back, resting the back of her head against his stomach. “Suspicion is normal. That drug damages the memory region. Over time, people become paranoid and even develop persecution delusions.” She reached out and clasped Christian’s wrist. “Christian, are you getting soft?” “No.” He smiled, an expression of indifference I’d never seen before. “This is what she owes me. If she hadn’t forced me to marry her back then, I’d already be a corporate high-flyer!” Cowell laughed. “Just three more months, and her cognitive function will be permanently damaged.” “Then she’ll truly be sick, and no one will ever find out.” Christian laughed heartily. “Exactly. By then, I’ll have her parents’ fortune, and we can finally truly be together!”

I stood in the darkness, fragmented images suddenly surging forward. Christian crushing pills and putting them in my milk. Cowell holding a syringe, smiling gently and saying, “This is for your own good.” Back then, I had frantically written in my diary, “Don’t trust them.” So I really had kept a diary, really discovered the truth! But every day I woke up, I would forget. In the greenhouse, Cowell stood up, turned, and wrapped her arms around Christian’s waist. She buried her face in his chest. “These years, pretending to be your cousin has been so exhausting.” Christian gently stroked her back. “Just a little longer. The paperwork for the Howard family’s asset transfer will be done soon.” “You deliberately got close to her back then just for her parents’ inheritance, didn’t you?” “What else?” Christian laughed, his voice laced with mockery. “Who would truly love a fool stupid enough to be tricked every day?” I clamped my hand over my mouth, desperate to escape, but my foot stepped on a dry twig. The lights in the greenhouse instantly went out. I ran back to the bedroom as fast as I could, scrambling under the covers, my heart pounding like it was about to burst. The door creaked open. Christian stood in the doorway, not turning on the light. He walked over and reached out, touching my forehead. “Price, where were you just now?” I forced myself to sound groggy, like I’d just been woken up. “What? I’ve been sleeping.” He didn’t speak. His fingers slid from my forehead down to my neck, stopping on a purplish bruise, pressing lightly. It hurt so much I almost cried out. “Had a nightmare? You’re sweating a lot.” I bit my lip. Christian leaned down, close to my ear. “Price, remember, you can go anywhere in this house, except the greenhouse in the backyard.” “It’s too damp there; it’s bad for your illness.” I nodded, not daring to make a sound. He smiled, satisfied, and tucked me in. “Sleep. Everything will be fine tomorrow when you wake up.” He left, the door not quite closed. I heard him tell Cowell in the hallway, “She might have found out. Move the plan forward!” Only when the hallway was completely quiet did I dare to open my eyes. Christian had said that the study held the things I tore up during my episodes. I remembered where the key was. I crept barefoot into the study. When I opened the door, a musty smell assailed me. Shredded photos, smashed ornaments, half-torn books — all piled in a corner. I saw the bottom shelf of the bookshelf. One book’s thickness seemed off. I pulled it out and opened it; the book was hollowed out. Inside was a leather notebook. I opened the first page, and it was my handwriting. “March 15th, Christian gave me a new medication today. I pretended to swallow it, then turned and spat it into the toilet.” “When Cowell came to check, I deliberately said my head hurt. The excitement in her eyes couldn’t be hidden.” “May 20th, our wedding anniversary. Christian gave me a necklace. That night, I found a transfer record to Cowell on his phone. How ironic.” I turned page after page. The diary recorded the time and place of their every secret meeting. The last page contained only one large line, written in red marker. “Price, escape! They will kill you!” My hands began to tremble violently. Bang! I heard the front door open downstairs. I hastily shoved the diary back into its place. I had just run back to the bedroom and lay down when the door was pushed open. Christian stood in the doorway. He turned on the light, holding a syringe, medicine dripping from its tip. He walked over, smiling. “Price, you went to the study, didn’t you?”

I shook my head frantically, tears streaming uncontrollably. “I checked the study door lock. There are new scratches on it.” Christian sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out to caress my face. “Why aren’t you obedient?” I trembled with fear. “Christian, I really didn’t. I just went to the bathroom.” “Stop pretending.” He suddenly ripped off the covers, grabbed my ankle, and dragged me to the edge of the bed. “The mud on the bottom of your feet isn’t wiped clean. There are your footprints on the study floor.” My entire body went stiff, unable to speak. Christian raised the syringe, pushed it, and liquid sprayed from the needle’s tip. “I originally wanted to let you live for another three months, but you’re not behaving.” He smiled. “Tonight, it ends.” The moment the needle pierced my skin, I lifted my foot and kicked him in the chest. Christian hadn’t expected me to still have the strength to resist. He fell backward, and the syringe flew out of his hand. I rolled off the bed, scrambling towards the door. Before I could run two steps, he grabbed my hair from behind. “Do you think you can escape?” He dragged me back, slamming me onto the bed, his knee pressing down on my legs. The pain made my vision go black, but I gritted my teeth and forced out the words. “Christian, if you kill me, the police will find out!” “Find out?” He scoffed, glancing at me. “You have retrograde amnesia; everyone knows that.” “You forget everything every day. When you have an episode, you self-harm and attempt suicide.” “Tonight, you had an episode and injected yourself with an overdose of medication. What does that have to do with me?” He leaned down, close to my face. “Cowell will testify for me, saying your condition had already reached an uncontrollable level.” “Do you think anyone will suspect me?” Christian released my hair, getting up to pick up another spare syringe from the floor. In that split second, I fiercely pulled out the phone I had hidden under my pillow. The screen was lit, on a call, the number was 911. I held up the phone, my voice trembling. “Christian, you’ve been talking for three minutes. The operator heard everything.” He froze, his face instantly turning ashen. Outside the door, an urgent knocking suddenly sounded. “Open up, police!” Christian looked at me, then let out a cold laugh. “Price, when did you recover your memory?” I didn’t answer. I just clutched the phone, shouting with all my might towards the door. “Help me!” The door was crashed open. Two uniformed police officers rushed in, followed by someone holding a body camera. Christian took a step back, a smile quickly plastered on his face. “Officers, it’s all a misunderstanding. My wife is sick; she was having an episode just now.” The leading officer raised a hand to interrupt him. “Mr. Christian, we have recorded everything you just said.” “Now, please come with us.” Christian’s smile froze on his face. He turned to look at me, a cold smirk on his lips. The police handcuffed him and escorted him out. As he passed me, he suddenly stopped. He turned his head, and in a voice only I could hear, said. “Price, do you think this is over?” “Don’t forget, Cowell is still out there.” I suddenly looked up. At the end of the hallway, Cowell stood in the darkness, holding a scalpel. She smiled at me, then disappeared down the staircase. The police chased after her, but I heard a flurry of urgent footsteps downstairs. Then, everything fell silent. I collapsed onto the floor, trembling uncontrollably. My phone suddenly rang again. A text message came from an unknown number, just one line. “Price, we’re not done yet.”

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For five years, I kept my identity as the heiress to a powerful conglomerate a secret. I willingly gave up my privileged life to help Leonardo fight his way from nothing to the CEO of a multinational corporation. Full of joy, I took my prenatal scan to surprise him, only to see him kneeling through the crack in the door, kissing Tiffany’s slightly swollen belly. When he saw me, he showed no remorse. Instead, he coldly slammed an abortion consent form onto my face. “Tiffany has severe depression. She can’t stand to see anyone else pregnant. Go get the abortion tomorrow. Don’t make me angry.” I looked at the man I had poured everything into, and suddenly, I felt utterly disgusted. For a gold-digger, he wanted to kill my child. But he didn’t know. Everything he owned was merely a toy I had casually bestowed upon him. Since he had no shame, I would take back everything that was mine, with interest! “Mr. Leonardo, Miss Tiffany’s pregnancy is stable, but her emotions absolutely must not be stimulated.” I stood outside the CEO’s office, clutching the ultrasound report that read “Four Weeks Pregnant.” My knuckles were white from clenching so hard. The door wasn’t fully closed. Through that glaring gap, I saw my husband, Leonardo, who was usually so cold and imperious at the office, now kneeling on one knee in front of the leather sofa. He held a bowl of steaming, high-end nutritional broth, carefully blowing on it to cool it down, as tenderly as if he were handling a priceless treasure. Then, he slowly brought it to Tiffany’s lips. “Tiffany, come on, just a sip. For our baby, you need to eat something.” Tiffany was wearing an oversized men’s shirt, its collar slightly open, revealing suggestive red marks. She pushed Leonardo’s hand away with a whine, tears instantly welling up in her eyes, and said with a fragile, tearful look: “Leonardo, you spend every day with me like this. Won’t Aria be angry? After all… after all, she’s your legally married wife. What am I?” Leonardo scoffed, an undisguised look of disgust and disdain flashing across his handsome face. “Why even mention her? What a buzzkill. She’s just a dowdy housewife, always smelling of stale cooking.” “If it weren’t for her being so docile and responsible, like a free live-in maid who could take care of me, I never would have married her.” He put the bowl down and pulled Tiffany into his embrace with a pained expression, kissing her forehead. “You’re the only one in my heart, always have been. As soon as this baby is born, I’ll divorce her immediately and marry you. Everyone will know you’re my true wife.” I stood outside the door, my blood running cold as if drained from my body, shivering from head to toe. Five years. For him, I broke ties with my family, abandoned my esteemed status as the heiress of the Franklin Corporation, and lived anonymously. I endured countless hardships with him in this city. When he was starting his business, he couldn’t attract investors, and he stayed up all night smoking on the rooftop, desperate. It was me who secretly leveraged my grandfather Spencer’s connections, disguised as a mysterious investor, paving the way for him. He worked overtime until he had a stomach hemorrhage trying to rush a project. I never left his side at the hospital for half a month, neglecting myself entirely, preparing him various stomach-soothing broths until my own hair started falling out. I thought we were a couple who had been through thick and thin, with a love as strong as steel. But it turned out, in Leonardo’s eyes, I was just a doormat who practically paid to be his live-in maid. A mere stepping stone, to be kicked aside at any moment to make room for his precious first love. I took a deep breath and suddenly pushed the door open. With a loud “bang,” the heavy solid wood door slammed against the wall, startling the two people who were locked in an intimate embrace inside. Tiffany shrieked, shrinking into Leonardo’s arms like a startled rabbit. Leonardo’s face instantly changed. Seeing me standing at the door, his brows furrowed into a tight knot, his eyes full of the fury of someone whose secret pleasure had been interrupted. “Aria? What are you doing here? Who told you to come in without knocking! You have no manners!” He instinctively spread his arms to shield Tiffany behind him, as if I were some man-eating monster. I ignored his roaring noun and walked in step by step, staring intently at his face, which I had once been so infatuated with, and held up the ultrasound report. “I came to tell you I’m pregnant.” “But now it seems, I’ve come at a bad time. My apologies for interrupting, Mr. Leonardo.”

The office instantly fell into a deathly silence. Leonardo’s gaze fell on the report in my hand, his pupils sharply contracting. But there wasn’t a hint of joy on his face, only a flash of extreme irritation and disgust. Tiffany tugged at his sleeve, her eyes instantly red, tears streaming down her face, her voice trembling like leaves in the autumn wind. “Leonardo… Aria is pregnant too… What about our baby?” “I should just go. I don’t want to break up your family. I’ll just have the baby alone and raise it myself…” She made a move to stand up. Leonardo immediately pressed her back onto the sofa, his face contorted with distress, and quickly reached out to wipe her tears. “What nonsense! The child in your belly is my child, Leonardo’s! Who dares to make you leave! If anyone leaves, it’s her!” After comforting Tiffany, he turned his head and looked down at me, his eyes as cold as poisoned ice blades. “Aria, this child can’t stay.” I thought I misheard, my ears ringing. “What did you say?” Leonardo strode to the desk, pulled open a drawer, took out a pre-prepared abortion consent form, and slammed it down on the table. “I said, go to the hospital tomorrow and get the procedure done.” He pointed at the trembling Tiffany on the sofa, his tone self-righteous: “Tiffany developed a chronic illness after saving me back then. She has severe depression and can’t handle any stress.” “Given her current condition, she absolutely cannot see that you’re also pregnant.” “You’re strong, healthy as an ox. You can have children a couple of years later; it’ll be the same.” I stared at the man before me in disbelief, as if looking at a completely unfamiliar monster. To protect his mistress’s child, he wanted to kill his own flesh and blood? “Leonardo, are you insane! This is our child! The child we’ve longed for for five years!” “Yesterday, you were still touching my belly, saying that if it was a girl, you’d buy her all the best dresses in the world!” “Plans change!” Leonardo interrupted me impatiently, his voice dripping with arrogant condescension. “Aria, don’t be unreasonable. This might be Tiffany’s only chance to be a mother in her life. I must protect her.” “You’ve held my wife’s position for five whole years, enjoyed so much wealth and glory. You should be content.” “Now, for Tiffany, what’s wrong with you suffering a little inconvenience? Don’t look at me like I owe you millions!” I looked at his self-righteous face, my stomach churning, the disgust shooting right through me. “What if I refuse to go through with it?” I gritted my teeth, asking each word distinctly. Leonardo sneered, his eyes filled with overt threat and disdain. “Aria, don’t make me do this the hard way.” “You’re a housewife who hasn’t worked and has been out of touch with society for five years. What do you have to fight me with?” “Without me, you can’t even support yourself, let alone a child!” “Tomorrow morning at eight, I’ll have the driver pick you up for the hospital. Don’t force me to send people to drag you there.” “If things get too ugly, you’re the one who’ll be embarrassed!”

I didn’t cry, nor did I throw a dramatic tantrum like a shrew. Looking at Leonardo’s utterly selfish face, I only found it laughable. I, Aria, the sole heiress of the mighty Franklin Corporation, had wasted five years of my youth on a blind, ungrateful fool. “Alright, I understand.” I calmly put away the ultrasound report, not sparing them another glance, and turned to walk out of the office. Behind me, Tiffany’s sweet, deliberately provocative voice carried: “Leonardo, is Aria mad at me? Her eyes were so scary just now; will she get revenge on us…?” “Forget about that crazy woman.” Leonardo scoffed, his tone full of certainty. “She’s useless without me; she can’t survive. Just scare her a bit, and she’ll calm down. Tomorrow, she’ll definitely go to the hospital obediently.” Listening to Leonardo’s conceited mockery, a cold smile touched my lips. Can’t survive without you? Leonardo, you overestimate yourself. You think you stand at the pinnacle of this city, but you don’t realize that the entire empire beneath your feet belongs to my family, the Franklins. Stepping out of the Leonardo Group building, the sunlight outside made me squint slightly. I took a taxi directly to a top-tier private hospital with extreme privacy. I didn’t get an abortion. Instead, I had the chief physician personally perform the most comprehensive prenatal check-up on me. After confirming that the baby was perfectly healthy, merely a little unstable due to my emotional fluctuations, I walked to the hospital’s quiet VIP garden and dialed a number I hadn’t called in five years. The phone rang three times before it was answered. A voice, old but incomparably authoritative, came through, tinged with unconcealed excitement and trembling. “Aria? Is that you? Is it really you?” Hearing my grandfather Spencer’s voice, my feigned strength instantly crumbled. My eyes welled up, and I fought back tears. “Grandpa, it’s me. I was wrong.” “I shouldn’t have disobeyed you back then, insisting on marrying that animal, Leonardo.” There was a two-second silence on the other end, followed by a heavy sigh, and then the distinct thud of a cane hitting the ground. “Just come back! It’s good that you’re back! The Franklin family doors are always open for you.” “Did Leonardo hurt you? I knew that mean-looking boy couldn’t be trusted!” “Yes.” I took a deep breath, wiped away my tears, and my eyes became cold and sharp. “Grandpa, I want Leonardo to lose everything, to be utterly disgraced. I want him to kneel, begging for death but unable to find it.” “Good!” Grandpa’s voice was firm and powerful, carrying the authority of a superior. “Anyone who dares to bully my granddaughter, Spencer’s granddaughter, I’ll make their whole family pay! It’s time for a shake-up in Las Vegas!” “Mr. Harrison will contact you in ten minutes. Just tell him what you need to do.” “All of the Franklin family’s resources are at your disposal!” After hanging up, I felt the five-year-long burden on my heart finally lift. Leonardo thought I was a soft touch, easy to manipulate. He had no idea that sixty percent of the dark shares in his proudly built Leonardo Group were under my name, Aria’s! He was only able to sit securely in the CEO’s chair because I had been secretly controlling the capital behind the scenes. With just one word from me, his commercial empire would collapse tomorrow. But I didn’t want him to die too easily. I wanted to watch him bleed out slowly, to see everything he owned turn into smoke, making him experience true despair.

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