Author: Momo Chan

I had always brought cosmetics and designer bags back from Europe for my friends at cost. I absorbed the exchange rate fluctuations myself, maxed out my luggage allowance, and occasionally got pulled aside by customs to pay heavy duties. Everyone got used to it. Once in a while, someone would offer a lukewarm “Thanks for your help,” but that was it. Until my cousin added a new friend to our group chat. After looking at my spreadsheet of prices, this girl posted a hand-over-mouth laughing emoji. “Oh my god, you guys actually let her buy at retail price? That’s such a rip-off. I used to live in Europe—buying without a discount is just exploiting an information gap. You can find any college student on resale apps who’ll do it cheaper.” Silence fell over the chat. She followed up immediately: “Next time you guys want anything, just let me know. My classmate is still in Paris. With tax refunds and outlet discounts, she can get everything at least thirty percent cheaper than the counters. She doesn’t do this for a living; she just wants to save us some cash.” I quietly muted the group. Thank God for this new friend. I could finally say goodbye to covering exchange rates out of my own pocket, paying overweight baggage fees, and hauling suitcases stuffed to the brim. … Nina’s college roommate, Amber, had joined our girls’ group chat last month. Her Instagram feed was a curated stream of geo-tagged flexes—from Galeries Lafayette to Printemps, always captioned: “Scouted more goodies for my girls.” At the time, I was packing for my upcoming flight back home. Thirty-seven items. Orders for five different people. Everything from La Mer cream to a Gucci belt, crammed into two twenty-eight-inch suitcases. My own clothes were squeezed into a tiny carry-on. Amber dropped three screenshots into the chat, showing prices her classmate sent from a Paris outlet. A Louis Vuitton bag that I had quoted at the retail price of $1,800 was listed on her end for only $1,350. “Grace, I didn’t mean anything by it,” she wrote, adding an innocent blinking emoji. “But none of us are trust-fund babies. We should save where we can. Charging retail is basically just pocketing the difference from an information gap, isn’t it?” My fingers hovered over the keyboard. Then, slowly, I drew them back. Nina was the first to chime in: “Amber actually has a point. I never really thought about that before. Grace, you’ve been in the UK for six years—haven’t you built up any discount channels?” I had spent six years studying in Manchester. This shopping arrangement had started because of Nina. In the beginning, it was just baby formula and skincare for her. Then her coworkers joined, then her friends, and then her friends’ friends. I had never charged them a single dime. I calculated the exchange rates based on the exact day I swiped my card, absorbing the loss if the pound surged before they wired the money. During sale seasons, I passed the discounts directly to them, never keeping the tax refunds. To grab a limited-edition Christmas advent calendar, I once stood in line outside Harrods for three hours. The Manchester winter wind cut like a knife; I went home and ran a fever for three days. I had never mentioned any of this in the chat. “I just looked, and Amber’s friend is definitely cheaper,” Megan texted. She was Nina’s coworker and usually the one who ordered the most. “Grace, not to be blunt, but you must have made a fortune off us these past few years. We’re all friends here. Enough is enough.” Made a fortune. I stared at those words, then turned my phone face down on the desk. Amber sent another message: “Just let me know if you guys need anything from now on. My classmate has been a personal shopper for years. Her suppliers are rock solid. I’m just playing middleman to help out—I don’t make a single cent.” A chorus of “Amber, you’re a lifesaver!” and “So reliable!” quickly filled the screen. Nina tagged me: “Grace, if you haven’t shipped our pending orders yet, can you just cancel them? We’ll have Amber buy them for us instead.” I picked up my phone and typed, letter by letter: “Sure. I’ll compile a list of what I’ve already bought. If you want to cancel, just DM me.” After sending it, I archived the chat. It wasn’t even anger. It felt more like a sudden, hollow release—as if a heavy stone I’d been carrying on my back for three years had suddenly been lifted by someone else. She didn’t know how heavy it was. But she was eager to carry it. Good for her. That night, I put all the purchased items into an Excel sheet, noting down the order numbers and return deadlines, and sent it to the group. Megan replied instantly: “Cancel the La Mer treatment lotion. Amber said she can get it for $110.” That was ten dollars cheaper than what I had paid. “Sure,” I replied. Nina messaged me privately: “Grace, Amber is a sweet girl, she’s just very blunt. Don’t take it personally. But honestly, you never mentioned discounts before, so everyone just assumed you were making a profit.” I leaned back against the sofa, staring at the screen for a long time. She was my first cousin. The year she got married, I brought her an entire bridal skincare set. It cost over nine hundred dollars. I told her it was my wedding gift to her. She had hugged me back then, crying, telling me how lucky she was to have me. I typed back: “I didn’t have access to those discount channels. That was on me. I’m glad Amber can get them for you guys now.” Nina sent a pat-on-the-shoulder emoji. “I’m glad you see it that way. We’ll still hit you up if we need anything else in the future.” I didn’t reply. I unwrapped a Lindt dark chocolate truffle I’d bought for Megan. It tasted bittersweet. The phone buzzed. A friend request from Amber. Once accepted, she sent a cute waving cat sticker: “Hey Grace! Nina probably told you.” “Yeah.” “Your Excel sheet is so organized! Did you always keep track of things like this when you were selling?” Her tone was sweet. “Oh, by the way, could you share the logistics company you use? And maybe some tips on getting tax refunds? I’m still learning the ropes and wanted to ask for your advice.” I moved the phone away, then pulled it back. She had just accused me of exploiting an information gap, and now she was asking me for my information. “My shipping company has been having customs issues lately—lots of packages getting held up, so I wouldn’t recommend them. As for tax refunds, your classmate in Paris probably knows the system better.” Amber took a while to reply: “Oh, okay~ I just figured since you’ve been in the UK for so long, you’d have some solid connections.” I let out a dry laugh. But the best part was yet to come. Zoe, my old classmate and the only one in the group who hadn’t joined in on the snark, sent me three screenshots of a private conversation between Amber and Nina. Nina: “She definitely pocketed a ton of cash. Why else would she never mention the discounts?” Amber: “Right? I asked her for her shipping contact and she refused to give it to me. She probably wants to keep the channel to herself so she can keep ripping other people off.” Nina: “Whatever. We’ll just buy through you from now on anyway. I won’t recommend her to anyone else.” Then, Amber accidentally forwarded those exact screenshots directly into our main girls’ group chat, followed by: “Oh my god, wrong chat! Grace, please don’t be mad, I didn’t mean to post that here.” The group chat went dead silent. Two minutes later, Megan DMed me: “Grace, did you return my La Mer yet?” “In progress.” “Great, thanks.” Not a single word of apology. I muted Megan and stared out the window at the Manchester night. In the distance, the lights of Old Trafford glowed against the dark sky. I had lived in this city for six years, moved seven times, worked three jobs at my lowest point, and spent an entire month eating toast with near-expired peanut butter. Back then, Nina used to FaceTime me every week, cooing about how hard I was working and promising she’d take me out for a massive feast once I returned. But she had never once asked if I was tired. She never asked what it was like to drag two oversized suitcases through airport security, pleading with the gate agents in a quiet, embarrassed voice when my luggage was overweight. Because of the time difference, I didn’t see Amber’s overnight messages until the next morning. “Hey girls! My classmate just sent over the price list. Almost everything is at least 30% off retail!” Below was a long, detailed price comparison spreadsheet. LV bags, Gucci belts, La Mer creams, serums… Beside each item, she had listed my previous quotes, labeling them “Old Price,” and placed them next to “Amber’s Price,” with the difference bolded in red. At the very bottom, a line of small text read: Based on our average spending over the past three years, we’ve been overcharged by at least $3,000. Amber tagged everyone: “No offense to anyone, just wanted to give you guys a heads-up. Money doesn’t grow on trees, and getting played by someone close to you is the worst feeling.” Nina replied with a “my poor wallet” emoji. Megan wrote: “Sigh. I guess buying through actual international students is the only way to go.” I stood in the kitchen, coffee mug in hand, slowly reading through her list. Every single price she attributed to me was wrong. For the bag, she claimed I charged $1,850. I had actually charged $1,750, passing along a mall loyalty discount without keeping a dime. For the La Mer cream, she wrote that I charged $280. I had charged $210, taking absolutely zero commission after the tax refund. The “differences” she highlighted in red were either comparing last season’s outlet stock to current retail items, or comparing tax-free base prices to tax-inclusive totals. I set my mug down and typed out: “I have the receipts and bank statements for every single item I’ve bought for you over the last three years. If anyone wants to audit them, feel free to message me.” The chat went quiet for about three seconds. Nina replied: “Oh, come on, Grace. Amber is just trying to save us some money. Don’t take it so personally.” Megan chimed in: “Yeah, what’s done is done. It’s not like we’re asking you to refund us.” “Exactly, we’re all still friends here,” Lauren added. She was usually the quietest, but her orders were always the most expensive. Amber sent a tearful emoji: “Is Grace mad at me? I really just wanted to share a cheaper option with everyone. If you think I’m overstepping, I’ll stop posting.” Nina immediately replied: “Don’t worry, Amber. You did the right thing.” I left the group. I didn’t mute or archive it. I clicked “Leave Group.” Seconds later, Nina was in my DMs: “Grace, what is your problem? Amber was just trying to help us save money, and you’re throwing a tantrum?” Trying to help. I stared at those words, put my phone aside, and began clearing out my desk drawer. Invoices, receipts, shipping slips—three years of physical paper stuffed into a single drawer. Every single slip of paper represented a memory of me running through an airport terminal, hauling heavy baggage. Last Christmas, Megan had placed a last-minute order for a Chanel bag, saying it was a gift for her mother-in-law and the timing was tight. I had worked until 8 PM that night, then sprinted through the freezing rain to the boutique, arriving ten minutes before closing to buy it, before rushing it to the shipping depot overnight. When she received it, she texted: “Grace, you’re the best! Definitely hitting you up next time.” Hitting you up next time. Probably the cheapest promise in the world. I swept all the papers into a large manila envelope and sent Nina one last message: “Every single purchase I made for you guys over the last three years has a paper trail. I never made a single cent of profit off any of you. Believe what you want.” Nina’s reply came instantly: “Fine, if you say so. But Grace, if you really weren’t making money, why didn’t you ever explain that? If you don’t say anything, of course people are going to assume.” Staring at the screen, a sudden wave of relief washed over me. She was right. Why hadn’t I explained? Because I thought friends didn’t need explanations. But they had never wanted a friend. With me out of the group, Amber became even more vocal. Zoe forwarded me screenshots from other group chats they shared: “Grace is just used to making easy money off people she knows,” Amber had written. “Once I called her out, she threw a fit and left. Classic guilty conscience.” “She claims she did it at cost, but who actually believes that? She’s been in the UK for six years. There’s no way she doesn’t have some secret discount codes.” Zoe sent a long, furious voice memo: “Is she out of her mind? I literally watched you break your back doing this for years. Do you want me to go in there and drag her?” “Don’t bother,” I replied, typing with one hand while skimming my work emails. “Honestly, I’m glad someone took over. You have no idea what a relief this is.” Zoe went quiet for a moment before typing: “Actually, that classmate of Amber’s… I think I’ve seen her in other shopping groups. Last year, she got exposed for mixing real items with high-end fakes. She changed her account handle and popped up again.” I raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?” “Eighty percent sure. Do you want to warn them?” I thought about it seriously. In the past, I would have panicked, dug up chat history, searched for evidence, and laid it all out to protect them from getting scammed. And what would I get in return? They’d probably say I was bitter. “No,” I told Zoe. “Right now, they think Amber is an angel sent from above. Anything I say will just sound like jealousy.” Zoe sent a sighing emoji. She probably thought I was being weak. But she didn’t know that I had been waiting for exactly this moment. Over the last three years, the hidden costs I’d absorbed easily amounted to over ten thousand dollars. When the exchange rate fluctuated, I kept my prices flat. I used my own credit card points and airline miles to secure limited-edition items for them, while I booked the cheapest, two-layover economy flights for my own trips home. Who was I going to tell? If I told Nina, she’d just say: “Well, why didn’t you charge us a fee then? That was your own choice.” Exactly. It was my choice. And now, I was choosing to walk away. That evening, I met my coworker Emily for dinner at a French bistro. She was an architect who had started at the firm around the same time I did. She raised her wine glass to mine. “You look… lighter today. Did something happen?” I smiled, clinking my glass against hers. “Let’s just say I finally dropped a weight I’ve been carrying for too long.” Emily didn’t pry, but she kept my glass full. On the way home, Zoe texted again: “Grace! Amber is collecting money now. She’s asking for a $300 deposit from everyone, claiming it’s her classmate’s policy. Megan paid, Lauren paid, and your cousin paid. She’s got over $1,500 already.” I stared at the screen and let out a quiet laugh. A deposit. In three years of buying things for them, handling incorrect shade matches myself, and absorbing canceled orders on my own dime, I had never once asked them for a deposit. I slipped my phone back into my pocket. The Manchester wind was cold as I walked through Piccadilly Gardens, but my chest felt remarkably warm. Amber’s “classmate” was in Paris. If customs caught a commercial shipment from Paris, the import duties and fines would run into the thousands. If she was selling at thirty percent below retail without charging a sourcing fee, what was the classmate getting out of it? Was she running a charity? Under the yellow glow of the streetlamps, my shadow stretched out ahead of me. My steps felt lighter than they had in years. Some things didn’t need to be explained. Time would do the talking. After collecting the deposits, Amber went quiet for two days. On the third morning, she kicked off a “live buying session” in the main chat. Her first message was a blurry photo of a dimly lit warehouse. Shelves were packed with cosmetics and designer boxes, resembling a shadowy parking garage conversion. Her caption: “My classmate is at the supplier’s warehouse early this morning! Everything is ready to go for my girls~” Nina was the first to comment: “Amber is so fast! Way better than some people who take a whole month to get anything done.” Megan replied with a thumbs-up. Zoe forwarded me the screenshots. I took one look at the warehouse photo and nearly choked on my coffee. The metal shelving layout, the blue plastic pallets on the concrete floor, the yellow fire hydrant peeking out from the corner… It was incredibly familiar. It was a replica wholesale showroom in Guangzhou. A post exposing fake luxury sellers in a UK student forum had used that exact same photo months ago. “Do you want to warn them?” Zoe asked. I set my coffee cup down and typed back: “Find that old fraud exposure post with the warehouse picture. Post it anonymously in a local buyer-beware group. Make sure it’s a burn account, not yours.” Zoe caught on immediately. A few minutes later, she replied: “Done. Posted it in the local city luxury blacklist group. Megan and Lauren are both in that group.” I leaned back in my chair, a small smile playing on my lips. By afternoon, things in the chat began to fracture. Zoe forwarded the leaked messages. Megan had written: “Did you guys see that warning post? That warehouse photo looks identical to the one Amber sent.” Lauren replied: “Maybe it’s just a coincidence? Don’t all warehouses look the same?” Megan hesitated: “What if her classmate is the scammer from the post?” Nina jumped in to shut it down: “Amber said her classmate is renting a temporary storage space in Paris. That’s how things are done over there. Stop being paranoid, guys. We already paid our deposits anyway.” Silence followed. I scrolled through the messages and sent Zoe a short reply: “We don’t need to do anything else.” Zoe sent back a smirking emoji. “That was brilliant. You didn’t even have to start a fight; you just planted a seed of doubt.” I locked my phone. Confrontation was always the loudest, least effective way to handle things. People only care about the truth when they start doubting it themselves. A truth forced upon them has no value. But a truth they unearth on their own becomes an undeniable reality.

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My husband and I hadn’t spoken a word to each other in a year. When he finally returned to the States and tried to initiate a truce, he reached out to take my hand right in front of his subordinates. I instinctively flinched, pulling away. When he tried to slide his arm around my waist, I shoved him off entirely. Later, a friend asked me why I wouldn’t just give him another chance. I couldn’t help but vent. “Devin and I are basically strangers now,” I told her, swirling my drink. “Being in the same room as him gives us absolutely nothing to talk about. The silence is so suffocatingly awkward I want to dig a hole through the floorboards and bury myself.” My friend’s expression suddenly contorted. Her eyes darted frantically to a spot just over my shoulder. I turned around. There he was. Devin stood frozen a few feet away, his face completely drained of color. Well. If it was awkward before, it was a full-blown catastrophe now. I could have dug a trench straight to the earth’s core. 1. Devin Frost and I had been locked in a bitter stalemate for twelve months. For the entirety of that year, he had been in Switzerland, accompanying his ex-girlfriend and her parents while her father sought experimental medical treatments. He had played the devoted proxy-son perfectly. Now that he was back in Chicago, he was the one lowering his head, asking for peace. Before he left, he hadn’t said a word of goodbye. But a year is a long time. The blinding, white-hot rage I used to feel had mostly burned out, leaving only a cold pile of ash. When we fell apart, things had gotten incredibly ugly. I had just lost our baby. My hormones were crashing, my heart was shattered, and I was bleeding out my grief in the form of cruel, jagged words. “I don’t care that Ella’s father is dying, Devin,” I had screamed at him. “She spent years trying to ruin other people’s happiness. This is just karma catching up to her.” I remember the way Devin’s features had hardened. The usual calm, detached elegance he carried himself with vanished. He narrowed his eyes, and the look he gave me was absolute ice. “Joyce,” he had growled, his voice dangerously low. “How can you be so vicious?” That was the last time we saw each other. The very next day, he boarded a private flight to Zurich with Ella and her parents. Since returning a month ago, Devin had been playing the role of the attentive, perfect husband to a terrifying degree. My friend leaned in, whispering. “Jo, he’s been back for weeks. Are you really going to keep icing him out? He’s gorgeous, he’s a tech billionaire, and trust me, there is a line of women waiting for you to drop the ball.” She wasn’t wrong. Devin came from old money and built his own empire on top of it. The line of women wanting to date him probably stretched all the way to Paris. But he had been gone for a year. A whole year. So much had happened in the empty spaces he left behind. During that first month, I used to stare at my phone, desperately hoping for a call, a text, a sign. It never came. Over time, I had reflected on my own behavior, too. I knew what I said about her dying father crossed a line. I forced a stiff smile now, looking at my friend. “But I’m serious. Being around him is just… agonizing. We have nothing to say to each other. It’s so awkward I can’t breathe.” That was when she looked past me, her eyes widening, telegraphing disaster. “What?” I asked. “Is there something in your eye?” She just blinked harder. I turned. Devin’s tall, imposing frame was rigid. His skin was pale under the dim lighting of the venue. My mouth twitched in a grimace of sheer mortification. His dark eyes locked onto mine, a storm of turbulent emotions swirling in their depths. Without a word, he closed the distance between us and wrapped his hand around my wrist. I tried to twist away. I couldn’t. His grip was an iron vise. He marched me straight to the elevator, down to the parking garage, and practically folded me into the passenger seat of his Aston Martin. I watched him from the corner of my eye. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought it might shatter. A year ago, our marriage was a well-kept secret. The media didn’t know the CEO of NovaTech was a married man. But they certainly knew about his storied, dramatic past with Ella. The moment the engine purred to life, the Bluetooth synced to a local celebrity gossip podcast. “…recent sightings of NovaTech’s Devin Frost strolling through a scenic village in the Swiss Alps with his former flame, Ella, and her parents. Frost has spent the better part of the last year abroad, reportedly funding her father’s treatments. Sources close to the couple say the old spark is definitely back…” Devin slammed his hand against the console, killing the audio instantly. I didn’t yell. I didn’t demand an explanation the way I would have a year ago. There was simply no point anymore. 2. A year ago. The first snowstorm of the season. I was walking to the train after work. The drop in temperature had been sudden, catching the city completely off guard. The sidewalks were a sheet of black ice beneath a dusting of white. I slipped. It was just a fall. But the sheer volume of blood that followed was terrifying. Against the pristine white snow of the pavement, the bright, violent red was blinding. Bystanders and a coworker who had been walking behind me panicked. I laid there, entirely numb, save for a heavy, agonizing pulling sensation in my lower abdomen. The ambulance took me to Northwestern Memorial. The ER doctor looked at me with a mix of clinical detachment and pity. “You’re miscarrying,” she said. “Did you know you were pregnant?” I shook my head, the room spinning. I tried to call Devin. It went straight to voicemail. My parents had retired to Florida. Devin’s parents were on a cruise somewhere in the Mediterranean. When the nurses told me I needed a family member to sign the consent forms for the D&C procedure, I dialed Devin’s number again. And again. And again. Nothing. In the end, with a shaking, bloodless hand, I signed the surgical forms myself. Hours after the surgery, as I lay staring at the ceiling of my recovery room, my phone buzzed. A single text from Devin. On a business trip. Three days later, I was discharged. While waiting for the elevator, I overheard two nurses whispering at the station. “Did you see the guy in the VIP oncology suite? What’s his name?” “Oh, he’s a big deal,” the other replied. “CEO of some tech firm. Devin Frost.” “He is incredibly handsome. Does he have a ring?” “He’s got a girlfriend. That older man he’s pushing around the courtyard in the wheelchair? That’s his future father-in-law.” I felt the floor drop out from under me. When I walked out into the main lobby, I saw him. Devin was standing near the entrance, flanked by the hospital’s chief of oncology and a team of specialists. Standing right beside Devin, looking up at him with tearful gratitude, was Ella. He hadn’t been on a business trip. While I was bleeding out our child on an operating table, he had gone completely off the grid to secure top-tier medical care for his ex-girlfriend’s parents. 3. The night I got home from the hospital, I waited for him in the dark. When he finally walked in, I asked him point-blank why he was at the hospital with Ella. He frowned, loosening his tie. “Are you having me followed?” I dug my nails into my palms to keep my voice steady. “You lied to me, Devin. You said you were out of town.” “I saw you with Ella this morning. She’s your ex. Do boundaries mean absolutely nothing to you?” Devin looked at me, his expression infuriatingly calm. “Jo, yes, she’s my ex. But she isn’t my enemy.” He spoke to me with the slow, measured cadence of someone explaining a math problem to a child. “I was at the hospital because her father is critically ill. When you called me, I was genuinely out of state meeting with a medical board on his behalf. I didn’t lie to you.” But for the entire month leading up to that day, I had noticed the shift. I’d wake up at 2 AM to find the space beside me empty, Devin pacing the hallway with his phone pressed to his ear. Once, walking past his home office, I heard muffled, panicked crying coming through the speaker. I saw my husband’s broad silhouette standing in the dark, his voice a soft, intimate murmur. “I know. I’m here. Don’t be scared. I’ll come over first thing tomorrow.” He hadn’t come back to our bed that night. He left before the sun came up. I knew the voice on the other end was Ella. “Devin,” I said, my chest tight. “She’s been texting you for a month. You come home past midnight. You’re always with her. She knows you are a married man, so why does she keep pulling you away? This is an emotional affair, and she knows exactly what she’s doing.” Devin’s eyes turned glacial. “Joyce. Stop. She is not trying to ruin our marriage.” The immediate, defensive way he shielded her was the spark that ignited my breaking point. “Her father was just diagnosed with stage four lung cancer,” he said sharply. “Can you stop being so relentlessly cruel for one second?” A wave of intense, suffocating grief crashed over me. I had laid in an ICU bed alone. I had signed the papers to remove our dead child from my body alone. And he had been holding her hand, moving mountains to find doctors for her father. “I don’t care, Devin!” I screamed, tears finally spilling over. “It’s karma! It’s what she deserves!” The second the words left my mouth, I saw the exact moment I lost him. A dark, terrifying fury settled over his features. His voice was a whip of cold air. “Joyce. How can you be so vicious?” He didn’t say another word to me. He just looked at me—a look of profound alienation and disgust. Then he walked out. That one screaming match birthed a silence that lasted a year. When Ella’s father took a turn for the worse, she decided to seek alternative therapies in Europe. Devin went with them. The day he packed his bags, he glanced at me one last time. His eyes were devoid of any warmth. Just a barren, freezing indifference. I knew right then that we were over. We didn’t file for divorce. We just stopped existing to each other. Months later, when I heard through the grapevine that her father’s condition was deteriorating, a pang of guilt actually hit me. I sent Devin one single text. I’m sorry for what I said. It was out of line. I shouldn’t have spoken like that. He left me on read. 4. The radio broadcaster bringing up the Swiss Alps had just sucked all the oxygen out of the car. I didn’t really care about the specifics of his time with Ella anymore. Over the past year, Ella’s Instagram had been a carefully curated exhibition of her life abroad. I saw the photos of Devin consulting with world-renowned surgeons. I saw the discreet snaps of his expensive watch resting on a cafe table in Zurich. Over the holidays, she posted a snowy landscape from a luxury ski lodge in Chamonix. Two mugs of hot cocoa on the balcony rail. Devin finally spoke, his voice slicing through the heavy silence. His gaze was fixed dead ahead on the road, unapologetic. “Jo.” “Her father is stable now.” I gave a short, jerky nod. “Oh. Okay. That’s good.” The car descended into the underground garage of our condo building. Devin threw it in park, unbuckled, and turned his body to face me entirely. “Do you have anything you want to ask me?” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “I will explain everything. I don’t want you making assumptions.” I forced the corners of my mouth up into a bright, brittle smile. “Nope. No assumptions here.” His eyes darkened instantly. 5. Devin’s sudden reappearance had completely derailed the fragile peace I’d built in my routine. Living alone, I had gotten used to wandering the apartment in just a flimsy silk slip after my evening shower. It was the middle of July. When I walked out of the bathroom that night, he was standing in the hallway. His eyes dropped, lingering on the thin fabric clinging to my chest. My face caught fire. I grabbed my robe from the hook, darted back into the bathroom, and aggressively tied it around my waist. When I re-emerged, fully covered, I cleared my throat and suggested we officially sleep in separate rooms. “Devin, I’m dealing with a massive project at work right now. Early mornings, late nights. I don’t want to wake you.” “I told the housekeeper to make up the guest suite for me.” He frowned, the line between his brows deepening. He stared at me in silence for a long time before speaking. “What time do you leave tomorrow? I’ll drive you.” I waved my hands frantically. “No, no. It’s fine. We work in opposite directions.” His gaze grew heavy. “It’s on my way. I have a meeting near your corporate park tomorrow.” I blinked, desperately searching for a lie. “Oh, well, I actually have off-site client meetings first thing in the morning, so I won’t be at the office.” It was a flimsy excuse, but it got him to drop the subject. 6. I woke up at the crack of dawn. Devin was a creature of intense habit. He worked out every morning at the exact same time. To avoid him, I had to either leave the house before the sun rose or wait until he was in the shower. I couldn’t be late today, so I was up at 6:00 AM. When I tiptoed into the kitchen, a tall, broad-shouldered silhouette was standing by the espresso machine. Hearing my footsteps, he turned his head. “You’re up,” he noted smoothly. “Eat breakfast.” We hadn’t been alone like this in ages. He had only been back in the condo for three days. In the old days, we managed breakfast and lunch on our own, but dinner was sacred. We always ate together. For the past 72 hours, we hadn’t shared a single meal. Being in this sprawling kitchen with him made the hair on the back of my neck stand up. The social media algorithm is a cruel, psychic beast. Even though I didn’t follow Ella and had never met her in person, my Explore page faithfully delivered every single one of her posts to my screen. To anyone looking at her grid, they didn’t look like two people who broke up years ago. They looked like star-crossed lovers who had finally found their way back to each other against all odds. After a year of total silence, Devin and I had deteriorated to the point where I felt like an intruder in my own home. Standing in the kitchen, under his intense scrutiny, I felt like the mistress. I felt like I was the one encroaching on Ella’s man. Even though I was the one wearing his ring. Our eyes met. I quickly snatched a piece of dry toast from the rack and speed-walked toward the foyer. I kept my head down as I shoved my feet into my heels. Suddenly, the scent of cedarwood and cold morning air washed over me. He was standing right next to me. “Sit down and eat,” he commanded softly. I shook my head. “I’m in a rush.” The corner of his mouth quirked up. “I’ll dri—” Before he could finish the word, I ripped the door open and sprinted down the hall. 7. I wasn’t actually in a rush. I walked two blocks to a cozy corner diner we used to frequent. It was a gritty, local spot. I always thought it was funny that a guy who grew up on a sprawling Hamptons estate, who wore bespoke Italian suits, would sit on a cracked vinyl stool and eat pancakes with plastic syrup dispensers. But Devin was the one who found this place. After he left for Europe, I kept coming here alone. Maria, the owner, had asked me a few months back, “Honey, where’s your handsome guy? Haven’t seen him around.” I had panicked and lied. “We decided to part ways.” Maria, naturally, assumed we were divorced. Today, out of nowhere, Maria decided it was time for me to move on. “Jo, sweetie, since you’re single now, I’ve got a guy for you. My nephew. Post-doc, works over at Rush Memorial. A doctor!” I forced a polite, pained smile. “Thank you, Maria, really, but I’m not looking to date right now.” “Oh, come on! He’s tall, gorgeous. Much better looking than your ex-husband!” A shadow fell over the counter, blocking the morning light. I looked up and locked eyes with Devin. It had to be Mercury in retrograde. Every single humiliating thing I said, he magically appeared to overhear. Devin’s face was thunderous. “Maria,” he said, his voice dangerously smooth. “She has a husband.” Maria gasped, dropping her rag. “Oh my god! You two reconciled? You remarried?” Devin didn’t break eye contact with me. “We never got divorced.” Maria looked at me in absolute horror. “Oh, lord. Honey, I am so sorry. I thought you guys signed the papers!” Devin’s jaw clenched so hard I thought a tooth might crack. 8. I walked out of the diner and, utterly defeated, climbed into the passenger seat of his car. He didn’t even try to hide his amusement at my misery. He just stared at me, a low, mocking chuckle rumbling in his chest. “Joyce. The firm your team is pitching to today? It’s NovaTech.” My stomach dropped to my shoes. “And if my memory serves me right,” he continued, leaning slightly closer, “you don’t have any off-site client meetings this morning.” It was him. He was the client. He knew I was lying to his face in the kitchen, and he just stood there and watched me perform like a clown. I choked on my own spit and offered him a deeply pathetic, awkward smile. 9. We pulled up to my corporate building right at peak rush hour. The plaza was swarming with my coworkers. I practically tumbled out of his car, keeping my head down, praying to any deity listening that no one would see me. “Mr. Frost!” The voice echoed across the courtyard. My spine locked into a block of ice. A massive group of executives was walking toward us—a mix of senior partners from my firm and VPs from NovaTech. Devin stepped around the hood of the car, stopping right beside me. Half a dozen pairs of eyes shifted between me and the billionaire CEO. Without breaking stride, Devin raised his arm and casually, possessively, placed his hand on the small of my back. The executives stared, their mouths slightly open. I panicked. I violently shoved him away and let out a loud, obnoxious laugh. “Oh, wow, these heels are a nightmare! I almost wiped out completely.” I patted my chest dramatically. “Thanks for the catch, Mr. Frost.” The rejection was so blatant, so aggressively public. The faint smirk on Devin’s lips vanished instantly, replaced by a cold, stunned rigidity.

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On the third day of our silent treatment, my fiancé deliberately agreed to his assistant’s suggestion for a road trip. He thought I’d get jealous and make a scene, like always. But when he came back a month later, he found I’d changed. He helped his assistant steal my project, but instead of quitting in a huff, I eagerly helped her write the proposal. He ruined my carefully crafted design so his assistant could win the year-end bonus, but I no longer tried to prove myself. Instead, I took all the blame and accepted his punishment. He even wanted to promote his assistant to company general manager, skipping all the usual steps. I didn’t get angry; I even offered to give up all my shares for him to freely distribute. The assistant was smug. “See? I told you. You can’t be tough with Alice’s personality. You have to give her the cold shoulder. This trip definitely worked. She’s scared of losing you, that’s why she’s being so good.” My fiancé believed her completely, praising his assistant’s intelligence. Later, he found me alone, promising me a promotion, a raise, and an unforgettable wedding, something he’d never offered before. But he seemed to have forgotten that during his trip, he’d already signed my resignation. And I had already broken up with him. From then on, we were completely done, no longer connected.

“Alice, Mr. O’Malley needs this project proposal urgently. I know it’s a lot, but please make sure it’s done before you leave the office today.” Liam’s assistant, Chloe Williams, smiled sweetly as she dumped a thick stack of files onto my desk. I took them, used to it by now. “Okay.” Chloe, seemingly not satisfied, chuckled again. “Liam and I have an engagement later. Just finish it and put it on Liam’s desk, Alice. Oh, and remember to clean Liam’s office before you leave.” With that, she clicked away in her high heels, in a great mood. My colleagues looked at me with pity, not even knowing how to comfort me. Everyone knew that our CEO, Liam O’Malley, was my fiancé, but he was incredibly biased towards his assistant, Chloe Williams. He hadn’t just gone out of his way to poach Chloe from another company and promote her to Project Department Director. He’d even given her a multi-million dollar project that I had spent a month securing and another month staying up late to almost finish. I protested, so Liam decided to settle the project ownership with a public vote. He thought everyone would back him, but the results showed everyone voted for me. Chloe only had his single, pathetic vote. Liam immediately blew up, accusing me of forming cliques in the company. He didn’t give the project back to me. Instead, he publicly announced my dismissal and docked the pay of all my colleagues who supported me. Everyone was furious but dared not speak out. Afterward, Liam apologized, explaining he wanted to avoid suspicion and prevent Chloe from being ostracized. At first, I believed him. Now, I just find it laughable. Chloe’s professional skills are worse than our newest intern. Whether it was avoiding suspicion or pure favoritism was clear to all our colleagues. Only he refused to admit it. Noise came from upstairs. I looked up and saw Liam’s tall figure appear at the stairwell. He merely glanced in our direction, then walked out without looking back. He had changed into a casual suit, and I could faintly smell his cedar cologne from here. Liam didn’t like wearing cologne, but this bottle was a gift from Chloe. I knew he was doing it on purpose. It had been like this for years. It started when I found his SnapChat messages with Chloe, where they were exchanging goodnight texts, and I couldn’t help but question him. Liam thought I was petty. In a fit of anger, he used the excuse, “Since you’re already suspicious, why not just make it official?” and brought Chloe to work directly by his side. The angrier I got, the more he deliberately favored Chloe. He took her to various social events, and even publicly wiped her mouth at company dinners. If I argued with him, he’d give me the silent treatment. If I apologized, he’d use it as an opportunity to team up with friends to lecture and reprimand me. Because of this, I often reflected on whether I was not magnanimous enough, leading us to this point. But it wasn’t until the third day of our silent treatment, when I was too sick to get out of bed, and he ignored me, deliberately packing his bags to go on a trip with his assistant, that I completely gave up. I finally understood. He was just using my “jealousy” as an excuse for “desensitization therapy” to shamelessly justify his immoral behavior. Even if I hadn’t seen his messages, Liam would have found another excuse to be with Chloe. After they returned from a business trip together a while ago, even though they still went out for dinner, drinks, and played sports frequently, I could sense their relationship had become subtly different. But thankfully, I didn’t care anymore. Five years of dating were ending. This farce had to stop. After I finished the proposal, I was the only one left in the office. I checked my phone and saw Chloe had posted several updates on Ins. The background was a fancy restaurant, with a romantic candlelit dinner on the table in front of them. Liam was elegantly cutting Chloe’s steak with a knife and fork. The caption read: “Steak cut by the CEO himself, it must taste extra delicious.” Many partners commented, praising how sweet they were. Those who didn’t know our relationship asked when they could attend their wedding. Liam replied with three dots, while Chloe sent a “playful” emoji. As usual, no clarification. But this time, I wasn’t angry about their ambiguous relationship like before, nor did I call Liam only to be scolded by him for “losing it over someone else’s comment.” I sent him a message telling him the proposal was done. Then I placed the file in his office, refilled the water cooler as requested, and drove home. Just as I arrived, Liam’s call came in. “Alice, it’s Chloe. Thanks so much for the project. I’ll treat you to dinner sometime.” As soon as I picked up, Chloe’s gentle voice came through. Before I could react, Liam’s voice chimed in from the background, “What’s there to thank her for? It’s her job.” “Liam, Alice is your fiancée, you should be nicer when you talk to her,” Chloe chided playfully. Their familiar interaction made it seem like they were the couple. I scoffed. Liam, who always had his phone glued to his hand and would get angry if I even checked the time on it, accusing me of invading his privacy, was now handing his phone to Chloe without a second thought. The closeness between them was obvious. But at that moment, my heart was unusually calm. What once felt like the end of the world now seemed trivial. After a few more playful exchanges with Chloe, Liam must have realized I was still listening. He said dismissively, “I’ll be home soon. Don’t wait up, get some rest.” Then he hung up. His “soon” meant at least four or five hours. In the past, I would get agitated and anxiously wait for him. But this time, I ignored him and calmly went to my study. I looked at the calendar on my desk. Not long ago, Liam and Chloe went on a trip under the guise of a business trip. I used that opportunity to submit my resignation. As expected, with Chloe around, Liam’s attention was entirely on her. He approved it without even looking. Now, there were three days left. Just three more days until my work handover was complete, and I could leave for good. Thinking about it, I made a FaceTime call to my former mentor at the research institute abroad. After graduation, I joined the institute as an outstanding student, enjoying a top-tier position. But when Liam said he needed help starting his company, I didn’t hesitate to quit. My mentor tried to dissuade me repeatedly, but I still resolutely returned to the country to help him build his business from the ground up. Looking back now, I was truly foolish. Emotions are always fleeting. Only hard work never betrays you. When the call connected, I explained my intentions. I expected a scolding, but instead, my mentor sighed, telling me he had actually known about my situation for a while and had already considered having me return. “But, have you truly thought it through this time?” I nodded. “I have. All my resignation matters are sorted.” “Resignation? What resignation?” A startled voice came from behind. I turned around to see Liam pushing the door open and walking in.

I looked down and saw that my mentor’s call had already disconnected. I calmly turned off my phone. As I was wondering how to explain, his phone suddenly buzzed. It was a message from Chloe, saying she’d found a stray kitten on her way home and had gone to a store specifically to buy some ham for it. “So cute,” Liam said. Chloe replied instantly: “Is the kitten cute, or am I cute?” A selfie of Chloe holding the kitten and pouting with a peace sign followed. Liam’s lips curved into an involuntary smile. “The kitten is cute, but you’re cuter.” Perhaps sensing I was still there, Liam suppressed his smile, frowned, and looked at me. “Didn’t I tell you to get some rest? Why are you still standing here?” His cold tone was completely different from when he spoke to Chloe, and he had entirely forgotten my mention of resigning. I let out a small laugh, saving myself the explanation. “I still have some things to finish.” “It’s so late, what chores haven’t you finished yet? Why can’t you arrange your time better? Alice, I don’t want to criticize you, but your procrastination is really bad.” Liam frowned deeply, complaining a few times. I didn’t explain that my procrastination was due to his frequent sudden demands, nor did I argue with him until I was red in the face, explaining my helplessness. Seeing my silence, Liam didn’t say much more and walked straight into the bedroom. Soon after, his joyful laughter came from the room. I rarely saw him laugh like that; only when he was with Chloe did he seem so genuinely happy. Ignoring it, I sat at my desk and pulled out the English study materials I hadn’t finished. After five years, the research institute’s focus had changed. To go back, even with my mentor’s help, I needed to be strong. But thankfully, my fundamentals were solid, and picking it back up wouldn’t take too long. “Are you reading an English magazine?” As I was concentrating on my studies, Liam suddenly walked in, I hadn’t even heard him. He reached out, took the magazine, casually flipped through a couple of pages, and then tossed it back. He scoffed lightly, “Why are you reading these? Do you even understand them?” “Just casually looking.” I put away the materials, my tone indifferent. “Did you come for something?” In the past, when Liam actively came to chat, I would be incredibly flattered. Perhaps he didn’t expect me to be so cold, and he paused for a moment. His expression was a bit unnatural. “Yes, there’s something.” “Chloe just completed a big project. I’m planning to promote her, and it’s also a good way to encourage other employees. What do you think?” Liam looked at me. He asked for my opinion, but I knew this was just an announcement, not a genuine request for my input. I still nodded. “I have no objection.” “But there should be punishment alongside rewards; otherwise, it’s hard to manage a team.” “You haven’t completed a project in so long, so I want you to temporarily transfer to a junior position. I’ll transfer you back later.” “Don’t worry, it won’t be for too long. I’m doing this for the overall good. You’re my fiancée, you should support me, right?” I scoffed internally. So, he still didn’t know I had resigned. He could interpret Chloe’s mood from tiny clues and know what she liked from small details. Yet, here I was, his fiancée, and he had personally signed my resignation letter, completely oblivious. Indeed, whether one cares or not can be seen in just a few words. Seeing my silence, Liam assumed I was going to argue with him as before, and his face immediately darkened. “Even if you don’t agree, it’s no use. I’ve already sent out the documents, and your office has already been given to Chloe.” “Either you accept the transfer, or you leave.” He threatened, “But I advise you, the company is preparing to go public. You should think carefully before you leave.” His tone was confident that I wouldn’t leave. This had happened too many times. In just one year, my position in the company had dropped repeatedly because of a few words from Chloe. I had endured it then, and Liam was sure I’d be even more reluctant to leave now. I gave a bitter smile. “I didn’t say I disagree.” “Alright, then it’s settled.” Liam’s mood lightened. I didn’t say no, which meant yes. Just as he was about to leave, he sensed something and walked back. “I remember you used to have our photo on your desk. Why is it gone now?” That’s when I realized. In fact, it wasn’t just on my desk. My phone wallpaper, the wall in my room, my wallet—they all had our photos. Liam used to complain that my head was full of these silly little thoughts, unaware that I was constantly reminding myself that no matter what Liam did to me, he loved me. But later, I realized how ridiculous I was. Each of these photos mocked me, showing what a clown I had been. I didn’t want to explain much, so I said flatly, “The photo frame accidentally broke, so I put it away.” “Why are you so clumsy with everything you do?” Liam frowned in disgust, immediately looking down to check if there were any glass shards under his feet. “Remember to clean up thoroughly sometime so no one gets hurt.” Perhaps seeing that I was no longer tense, his tone softened slightly. He finished speaking and then got up and left the study. Watching his retreating back, I couldn’t help but laugh at myself. He certainly wasn’t concerned about me. His comment was clearly about not hurting Chloe. This was our home, and I managed everything in it. It wasn’t until a few months ago, when I found a small hair tie on the floor of his study and noticed the pillow in the bedroom had been moved, that I realized he had brought Chloe home many times. I couldn’t help but question him. He seemed to guess what I would ask and immediately produced evidence, proving they were only there for work. He then seized the opportunity to accuse me of being jealous and small-minded. To spite me for my suspicions, he defiantly and openly brought Chloe home. I could vaguely sense Chloe’s provocation and hostility towards me. But their interactions seemed normal, with no obvious crossing of lines. Over time, I fell into self-doubt. Every day, I’d reflect on whether I was wrong. Looking back now, with that much time spent dwelling, I could have succeeded at anything. The next morning, Liam announced Chloe’s promotion and my demotion to the lowest level. When he made the announcement, he was a bit wary, but when he saw that I remained unfazed, as if nothing had happened, he finally believed I had truly accepted it. He was in high spirits, and so was I. In the following days, while Liam held a celebration party for Chloe, I was processing my visa. While they went to an amusement park to relax, I was clearing out my belongings. In the end, what I needed to take with me barely filled one suitcase. While they attended a social event at a club, being egged on to drink “cross-armed” (intertwining arms) drinks, I was completing all my work handovers. … Two days later, on my last day at the company, I finished the final procedures with HR. “Go to the CEO’s office before you leave, Mr. O’Malley wants to see you.” HR said without looking up. I was about to refuse, but then I thought, I’m leaving tonight. If Liam goes out with Chloe as usual and doesn’t come home, this will be the last time we see each other. After all, we’d been together for five years; a farewell should have some kind of ceremony, right? Thinking this, I went upstairs to the CEO’s office. Just as I was about to push the door open, I saw Liam leaning back on the sofa through the glass wall. Chloe, wearing a long dress, was lying with her head on his lap, their posture intimate. Liam said something, and Chloe covered her mouth, laughing non-stop.

I paused. Just as I was wondering if I should step away, Chloe saw me first, letting out a surprised gasp, and quickly sat up. “Alice, what are you doing here?” A trace of nervousness flashed across Liam’s face. He hastily tugged at his slightly disheveled suit, then snapped at me, “Alice, who allowed you to come in?!” “Didn’t I say not to disturb me upstairs without my permission?” Liam had made that rule before. But the original rule was that *everyone except Alice* was forbidden from going upstairs to disturb him without permission. Before, I just thought Liam treated Alice specially. Now I understood what he really meant. But anyway, since I was leaving, I wasn’t surprised. I said calmly, “HR said you needed me.” Liam scoffed, strode to his desk, and angrily pressed the intercom. Less than two minutes later, HR came upstairs. “Did you tell Alice I needed her?” Liam asked coldly. HR sensed the tense atmosphere. Looking at Liam’s icy face, and then at a seemingly wronged Chloe, they were so nervous they couldn’t speak for a moment. After a pause, they finally said, “I don’t remember.” “Ha.” Hearing this, Liam, like a general who’d won a battle, cast a cold glance at me, speaking sarcastically. “Is this fun, Alice?” “I thought you’d finally matured, but I guess you’re still playing games. If you’re so worried about me, why don’t you move upstairs and watch me all the time?” “Or put a camera on me, to satisfy your curiosity.” I was speechless. “Liam, don’t be angry. I believe Alice is just worried because she cares, not doing it on purpose.” Chloe gently patted Liam’s back, then looked at me and said, “Alice, don’t misunderstand. I was just tired earlier and had a headache. Liam was just trying to help me relax so I could keep working.” “We’re doing everything for the company. Don’t overthink it.” I looked at her triumphant eyes, which seemed to wish I would overthink it. Although I didn’t know the full story, I was sure Chloe was behind this. HR was savvy and knew Chloe was Liam’s favorite. So, sensing the awkward atmosphere, they didn’t dare tell the truth. However, even if they had, Liam probably wouldn’t have believed it. I remained silent, but Liam’s anger hadn’t subsided. He fumed. “No need to explain to her.” “Personal matters are personal, company matters are company matters. Since we’re at the company, we follow company rules!” “Alice didn’t follow company regulations. Her bonus for this month is completely docked, and half her salary is also docked.” HR hastily said, “Liam, Alice, she already…” They probably wanted to say I had resigned, but before they could finish, Liam glared coldly. “I don’t want to hear any of her excuses! Do as I say!” HR didn’t dare say another word and turned to go downstairs. I thought for a moment, then also prepared to leave. But just then, Liam suddenly called out to me. Perhaps having vented his anger, he seemed much calmer now. He said earnestly, “Alice, I’m not deliberately targeting you, but these are the rules I set. If I don’t punish you, it’ll be hard to command respect in the future.” Chloe, standing nearby, nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Alice. Next time, if you’re unsure about something, you should ask Liam. If not, you can ask me, too!” Liam nodded approvingly. “Chloe is entirely dedicated to the company. She knows company matters better than anyone.” Then he glared at me again. “Unlike you, what do you do all day besides getting jealous? Can’t you learn from Chloe?” Learn what? Learn how she deliberately interfered in someone else’s relationship, how she provoked me subtly and overtly? Or how she intentionally stole others’ credit and tripped them up? I scoffed, but was too lazy to call him out. Seeing my silence, Liam thought I realized my mistake. He took two steps towards me, adjusted my collar which wasn’t even messy, and said earnestly. “I know why you’re causing all this trouble, and I am indeed very disappointed in you.” “But I have to say, since you came back this time, you’ve certainly matured a lot. To commend you, we’ll go take wedding photos tomorrow and get the wedding plans underway. But don’t get too carried away, marriage is just…” “Marriage?” Before he could finish, I let out a light laugh. I brushed his hand away. And handed him the prepared resignation letter. “Liam, we’re over.” “Also, I’ve resigned. From now on, we have nothing to do with each other.”

Liam’s body stiffened slightly. Chloe’s eyes, however, lit up. A triumphant smile immediately curved her lips. Although she quickly regained her composure, I saw it clearly. “Alice, those words are a bit much. You two are, after all…” “Alright, Chloe, you can go out now.” Before Chloe could finish, Liam calmly interrupted her. Chloe’s remaining words caught in her throat. She then feigned concern, advising Liam not to be angry and to talk things through, before leaving downstairs, satisfied. After she left, Liam glared coldly at me. “Alice, are you pushing your luck? I’ve already agreed to marry you, what else are you stirring up?” “Take back what you said about breaking up. And I won’t sign your resignation letter. Tear it up now, and I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.” Seeing Liam’s confident expression, I just found it amusing. But also pathetic. I knew he had become this way largely due to my past indulgence. This kind of thing had happened many times before. But each time, Liam would offer an olive branch, and I would obediently take it, continuing our pretense of an affectionate relationship. I wanted to maintain our relationship peacefully, but I forgot that constantly backing down would only make him push his boundaries further. He cared about Chloe’s every move, but ignored everything about me. To this day, he didn’t know he had already signed my resignation letter. I let out a soft laugh and handed the resignation letter to him. “But you already signed it.” “All the procedures and handovers are done. I can leave today.” Liam was initially dismissive, but when he saw his signature on the resignation letter, his face changed. “Alice, did you forge my signature?” His words made me laugh. “You signed it yourself.” “Impossible! I don’t remember signing this!” “Alice, do you know that forging a signature is against the law? If I wanted to pursue it, I could call the police.” He took out his phone, pretending to dial the police. This was his trump card. In the past, whether it was because of Chloe or other reasons, whenever things got out of hand at the company, he would threaten me with calling the police. He thought I was afraid of the police. But he didn’t know that when the company was small and morale was low, I was afraid that calling the police would make everyone overthink and lose faith in the company. And at that time, I loved him, and didn’t want to get into a big fight with him over it, so I always thought it was better to compromise. But now, I was leaving soon. And we had already broken up. What did I have to be afraid of? “Fine, then call the police.” Seeing that my expression was calm, and I wasn’t pleading with him as he expected, Liam’s hand, poised to dial, paused. “You’re really not afraid?” “What’s there to be afraid of?” Hearing me say that, Liam moved his lips, and couldn’t help but examine his name on the resignation letter again. I kindly reminded him. “This resignation was approved while you were on a business trip.” Liam’s shoulders stiffened, as if he finally remembered, his face instantly turning pale. His thin lips trembled, and it took him a long time to squeeze out a sentence: “Is this why you’re making a fuss and threatening to resign?” “Well, I’m telling you, I was busy then, and I didn’t pay attention when I signed this. It doesn’t count.” I was amused. “Why not? I followed all the proper procedures, every step was fine. Why shouldn’t it count?” “Because I said so.” He tried to smooth things over, just like before. This time, I wasn’t speechless with anger. Instead, I took out my phone. “Then you can tell that to the police.”

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The night my father died. I grabbed some food and headed downstairs to bring it to my husband, who was keeping watch at the funeral home tonight. But at the service, I walked in on two bodies tightly intertwined. The moment Ethan saw me, after a brief flash of surprise, he pulled the woman closer with obvious reluctance to let go, pressing her head against his chest. “Sophia, you’re five months pregnant. Why aren’t you resting?” “Be good. Go back upstairs. I’ll explain later.” Despite his attempts to hide her face, I recognized her immediately. The woman in his arms was Lorelei Hart, my father’s former mistress. She was only seven years older than me. He didn’t want me to see her face. He was afraid I’d make a scene, stress the baby, and end up dead on a cold operating table like my mother. But what he didn’t know was this: when someone’s heart turns cold enough, they don’t make scenes. **1** “Ugh, stop pressing me like that. I can’t breathe~” Lorelei twisted out of his embrace, playfully hitting his chest with a coy pout. “What are you worried about? It’s not like Sophia hasn’t seen this before.” “She didn’t make a fuss when she was a kid. Now that she’s grown up, she definitely won’t.” Yeah. I’d seen this scene before. Except back then, the man tangled up with her was my father. And the photo hanging in the memorial hall? That was my mother, who died from complications during labor after discovering Dad’s affair. Ethan knew all of this. Every detail. Seeing that I truly showed no major emotional reaction, Ethan hesitantly released Lorelei’s hand. Lorelei skipped over and grabbed my hand. “Don’t blame Ethan. You’ve been pregnant for months now, and he’s been so pent up, the poor thing.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she thought of something. “Besides… we fell in love at first sight. The chemistry was so intense we just couldn’t help ourselves.” Nausea rose in my throat. I yanked my hand away and turned to Ethan with an accusing stare. He gazed at Lorelei with tender eyes. No explanation came. His silence confirmed everything Lorelei had said. Love at first sight. Love at first goddamn sight! My clenched fists trembled uncontrollably. Before I could say the word “divorce,” a sharp, twisting pain tore through my belly. I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor. Ethan rushed over in a panic, pulling me into his arms, his voice shaking. “Sophia, what’s wrong? Don’t scare me.” Lorelei crouched down, pushing him aside to hold me instead, her eyes full of concern. “Leave this to me. Call 911! And grab the hospital bag—I think she’s going into labor.” Ethan frantically pulled out his phone and stumbled away. The moment his back disappeared from view, Lorelei’s gentle, caring expression vanished. Her face twisted into something cruel as she leaned close to my ear. “You look just like your mom did back then. Like mother, like daughter.” “Think you’ll end up dead like her too? Killed by anger, just like she was?” “If I can reunite your whole family of three, wouldn’t that make me practically a saint?” I stared at her coldly, forcing out a single word through the pain. “Get. Lost.” She covered her mouth, laughing, triumph written all over her face. “You don’t know this yet, but your dad? I killed him too. That day at the hospital, we did it right in front of him.” “Come to think of it, I basically avenged your mother for you. You could at least be nicer to me.” I struggled to control my body, to get away from her. “Revenge? You don’t deserve to say that word.” She reached out, brushing away the hair plastered to my face with cold sweat, laughing softly. “They say judge people by their actions, not their hearts. So tell me—didn’t I make your dad experience exactly what your mom went through?” “Your mom just couldn’t handle it back then. If she’d lived till now, she’d probably thank me.” My dad got what he deserved! But she had no right to talk about my mother. No right to claim my mother would thank her! “Lorelei Hart, you’re delusional!” Looking at her smug expression, I couldn’t take it anymore. I raised my hand to slap her. But the searing pain in my belly left me with no strength. Then, the next second, a loud slap rang out. Lorelei’s face instantly swelled red. “Sophia, I was trying to help you! Why did you hit me?” She clutched her face, tears welling in her eyes, looking at me pitifully. “Sophia! What are you doing?” Ethan dropped the hospital bag and rushed to her, pulling her into his arms with both concern and anger. “She was trying to help you. How could you hit her?” **2** Cold sweat poured down my face from the pain in my belly. I didn’t even have the strength to speak. Seeing my condition, a flicker of sympathy crossed Ethan’s eyes. He held Lorelei, gently stroking her in comfort, while saying to me in a soft voice: “Hang in there. The ambulance is almost here.” He helped Lorelei sit down nearby to rest, then just stood there watching me suffer on the floor, waiting for the ambulance. The moment the paramedics arrived, he rushed over in two or three steps, frantically pulling the doctor toward Lorelei. “Doctor, check her face! It looks serious!” The doctor glanced at Lorelei sitting in the chair, then at me on the floor. He brushed off Ethan’s hand and came toward me. “She’s fine. Let’s see to the pregnant woman first.” Ethan grabbed the doctor’s sleeve desperately, blocking his path to me. “How can she be fine? Her face is so swollen!” Seeing my ashen face, the doctor had no choice but to call a nurse to check on Lorelei. Even as they loaded me into the ambulance, Ethan never looked at me once. When I woke up again, I was in the hospital. Ethan sat by the bed, stirring a bowl of soup he’d brought for me. Our eyes met. He reached out to help me sit up. “Don’t worry. The baby’s fine.” I dodged his hand and turned away, refusing to look at him. “Since you and her are in love at first sight, I’ll make it easy for you both.” Ethan withdrew his hand with a sigh. “Sophia, yes, I slept with her. But I’m not a heartless bastard.” “I married you. We have a child together. How could I just abandon you?” “Besides, I’m all you have left now. I won’t divorce you.” A knock came at the door. Lorelei walked in carrying a fruit basket, draping her hand over Ethan’s shoulder. “I’ll take it from here. Your assistant is outside—says it’s urgent.” Ethan grasped Lorelei’s hand, looking at her still slightly reddened face with heartache. “I’m sorry you have to deal with this.” After Ethan left, Lorelei sat by the bed and started peeling an apple. “You’re lucky to be alive.” “I was hoping once you died, I’d get your inheritance too.” A flash of resentment crossed her eyes. “That old bastard screwed me over one last time before he died. I was barely twenty when I hooked up with him, and he left you ninety-nine percent of everything.” Watching her resentment, I found it almost laughable. “If he developed feelings based on how long you were together, he never would’ve cheated on my mother with you in the first place.” And my mother never would’ve discovered Dad’s affair and gone into premature labor. I never wanted anything to do with him again. But when his people found me and made that offer, saying half of it had belonged to my mother anyway, I agreed to meet him. Lorelei bit into the apple and suddenly laughed. “You’re right. But it doesn’t matter now. I’ve latched onto another meal ticket, haven’t I?” “You and your mom have the same taste in men. Both so easy to make fall in love with me.” She leaned down, raising her eyebrows in mock gratitude. “Thanks for that.” As she spoke, she forcefully grabbed my hand and pressed it against her lower abdomen. “I’ve got good news for you. I’m pregnant too.” “Should my baby call your mom Grandma? Or Mom?” I yanked my hand away forcefully, disgusted. “Your baby has no right to have anything to do with my mother!” She clutched her belly, suddenly showing an expression of pain. “Sophia, what did you do?!” Ethan rushed into the room, grabbing me by the collar. “I didn’t do any—” Before I could finish, Lorelei cut me off. She crouched on the floor, grabbing his pant leg with a pained expression. “Ethan, it’s okay. She’s just upset that we’re having a wedding. I don’t blame her.” “After all, the island wedding was what she always wanted most.” “It’s just… my belly…” She suddenly collapsed on the floor. **3** “Lorelei!” Ethan panicked, scooping her up and rushing toward the door. At the doorway, he turned back with cold eyes. “Sophia, I won’t divorce you, but what you did yesterday and today crossed the line.” “I was planning to bring you to the wedding, but now I don’t think that’s necessary.” “I’ll continue handling your father’s funeral arrangements. Just stay in the hospital and behave.” After he left, security guards quickly appeared outside my hospital room. They confiscated my phone, and someone followed me everywhere, even when I went downstairs. I thought he just didn’t want me following them to ruin his wedding with Lorelei. But I was wrong. Three days later, on the wedding day, they locked my door early in the morning, preventing me from leaving. Then two people came in carrying a tablet streaming the wedding live, and positioned it in my hospital room. The wedding setup in the video was exactly what I’d always dreamed of. I found it absurd, but I didn’t feel sad. Until after their grand wedding ceremony ended, Ethan publicly announced he was going to bury my father in my mother’s grave! “Mr. Blackwell is such a good man, thinking of everything!” “I know, right? How many sons-in-law would consider something like this?” … Watching the crowd’s enthusiastic praise in the video, and Lorelei’s deliberately provocative look toward the camera, I trembled with rage and lunged for the phone like a madwoman. But they grabbed me, pinned me to the bed, and I couldn’t move. A day after the wedding ended, Ethan called specifically to ask, his voice dripping with superiority. “Are you satisfied with my arrangements?” On the screen, he stood on the balcony of an island villa, wearing a white suit, his posture upright and utterly cold. He knew how much I resented my father. He absolutely did this on purpose! I screamed in fury. “Ethan Blackwell! If you actually do this, I’ll kill you!” Ethan raised his wine glass and swirled it, his voice merciless. “Sophia, you should’ve known when to quit. Do you understand that concept?” A familiar female voice came from nearby, giggling. “You’re so ungrateful. Your mom and dad haven’t seen each other in years. Now they can finally be reunited. Shouldn’t you be happy for them?” She draped herself over Ethan’s arm, leaning on his shoulder. “Forget it, honey. Let’s ignore her. She’s killing the mood.” Ethan glanced carelessly at the camera, stroking her head gently. “Mm.” The call ended abruptly. Massive rage clogged my chest. I felt like I was going to explode. After taking two deep breaths, a thread of rationality briefly returned, and I suddenly felt something was terribly wrong. “The baby!” I frantically touched my belly. “My baby isn’t moving! She’s not moving!” Tears poured uncontrollably down my face. I sobbed, screaming at the guards: “Get a doctor! Get a doctor now!” The whole group panicked and scattered. In the chaos, one of the guards quietly approached from behind and whispered. “Don’t worry. Everything’s arranged.”After being pushed into the operating room, the doctor my people had arranged asked me again. “Miss, your baby is quite far along. Are you sure you want to induce labor?” I struggled to control my trembling hands and touched my belly, nodding. “Yes. I’m sure.” I’m sorry, baby. This time, Mommy has to choose herself. Mommy doesn’t want to be tied to your father who doesn’t love you, and Mommy doesn’t want you growing up in a loveless environment. If you can forgive Mommy, come find her again in the next life. During the surgery, Ethan called me countless times, but no one answered. He frowned, scrolling through his phone, growing increasingly irritated. Threatening to bury my father with my mother was my breaking point. I shouldn’t be this calm. After another call went to voicemail, he laughed coldly. So… she’s trying to manipulate me with this tactic? He tossed the phone aside and picked up company documents to review, but couldn’t concentrate. Something felt unsettled in his chest, restless. Even during company meetings, he kept spacing out, his mind uncontrollably conjuring the look in my eyes that day. It felt like more than just hatred. “Ethan? Ethan?” Lorelei came over with freshly made soup, tapping his shoulder lightly before sitting beside him, reaching to massage his temples. “Have you been working too hard lately?” Ethan raised his hand, blocking hers, sounding tired. “Any news from there?” Lorelei froze, quickly realizing he meant news about me at the hospital. Her nails dug into her palm as she swallowed her anger and spoke softly. “What news would there be? Same as before. She’s still making a fuss, refusing to agree.” She turned and tugged at Ethan’s sleeve, shaking it playfully. “Come on, don’t keep talking about her when you’re with me. I’ll tell you if there’s any news.” “Will you take me to that restaurant later? The food there is amazing!” Ethan took her hand, gently caressing it. “Alright. Once I finish work, we’ll go.” Hearing this, Lorelei smiled and held the soup out to him. “You won’t be done for a while. Eat something first.” Looking at the greasy chicken soup, Ethan took a perfunctory sip. “Not bad.” Then he made an excuse about another meeting and sent Lorelei away. A few hours later, the surgery ended. I was wheeled out of the operating room. Lorelei happened to be holding Ethan’s arm, about to leave for dinner. Ethan had just gotten into the car with a smile when he received a message. **[Mr. Blackwell, something’s wrong. Mrs. Blackwell was so stressed that the baby stopped moving. She’s already gone in for induced labor.]**

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At the dinner table, my wife Maya’s guy best friend Derek was flushed red from drinking. He threw his arm around Maya’s shoulders, his eyes hazy with alcohol as he reminisced about the past. “Maya, do you ever think about it? If we hadn’t broken up back then, our kid would probably be in school by now, right?” My fingers tightened around my glass. Derek noticed the change in my expression. Not only did he not back off, he actually made a “tsk” sound and pulled Maya even closer. He looked at me provocatively. “Oh, Ethan, bet you didn’t know Maya and I used to date, huh?” “Look at her being all secretive about it. Could it be… she still has feelings for me?” Before Maya could explain, I laughed. I cut off his drunken rambling, my voice not loud, but clear enough to carry through the entire private room. “How about we wait until Maya and I finalize our divorce, then you can shoot your shot?” “After all, jumping straight from one relationship to another looks pretty bad.” **[Chapter One]** The air in the private room instantly froze. The music, the laughter, the drinking games—everything stopped abruptly. All eyes turned to me, filled with shock, confusion, and a trace of excitement at the drama. Maya’s face turned deathly pale in an instant. She shoved Derek away violently, staring at me in disbelief. “Ethan, have you lost your mind? Do you even know what you’re saying?” Derek was stunned too, sobering up considerably. He dropped his arm, his eyes full of bewilderment. I smirked, drained the rest of my drink in one gulp. The liquor burned like fire from my throat down to my stomach. I stood up, looking down at them. “Was I not clear enough?” “Divorce.” “Tomorrow morning, nine o’clock. Meet me at the courthouse.” With that, I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and walked out without another glance at her. Maya’s shrill voice followed me. “Ethan! Stop right there! Explain yourself!” “It was just a joke! Are you seriously overreacting like this?!” I didn’t stop. Didn’t turn around. Overreacting? When she said she wanted “our own place in the city,” I worked myself to the bone, juggling three jobs until I landed in the hospital with a bleeding ulcer. When she said she wanted “a wedding to remember,” I took every penny my parents had saved for retirement and gave her the ceremony she called “the day of my dreams.” Because of this so-called “guy best friend” of hers, we’d fought countless times. I compromised again and again, believing her every time she said, “We’re just friends.” Now I could see—I’d been lying to myself all along. Outside the restaurant, the evening breeze hit me, and that burning sensation in my chest finally started to fade. My phone began vibrating frantically. It was Maya. I declined the call. She called again. I declined again. After several rounds, my phone went quiet. A SnapChat message popped up. Maya: “Ethan, what the hell is wrong with you? All because of Derek’s drunk comment? Since when did you become so petty?” I stared at those words and let out a cold laugh. A drunk comment? If I hadn’t installed that hidden camera in the private room beforehand, if I hadn’t received those photos from the private investigator this afternoon, I might actually have believed it was just a “drunk comment.” I opened my photo album, looking at picture after picture of the two of them kissing outside a hotel, making out in a car. My eyes stung. I sent her a message back. “Tomorrow. Nine o’clock. Court-house.” “Don’t be late.” “Oh, and here’s a little something for you.” I selected all those photos, packaged them up, and sent them at full resolution. On the other end, complete silence. **[Chapter Two]** The next morning at 8:50, I arrived at the courthouse right on time. The sunlight was a bit harsh. I lit a cigarette and waited quietly. At exactly nine o’clock, a taxi pulled up by the curb. Maya got out, her eyes red and swollen, her face heavy with exhaustion and haggardness that even her carefully applied makeup couldn’t hide. She rushed up to me, her voice hoarse. “Ethan, we need to talk.” “The photos… the photos are photoshopped! Derek was just messing around with me!” I exhaled a smoke ring, watching her pathetic performance. “Oh? Really?” “So the hotel booking records were also a joke? And the $5,200 he transfers to your bank account every month—that’s a joke too?” Maya’s face went ashen. Her lips trembled, unable to form a single word. I crushed the cigarette butt in the trash bin and pulled out the documents I’d prepared from my briefcase. “Divorce agreement. I had a lawyer draft it.” “You committed adultery during our marriage and misappropriated marital assets. By law, you should leave with nothing.” I paused, looking at that face that once made my heart race. “But for old times’ sake, I’ll be fair. The condo we bought after marriage is worth $300,000. I paid the down payment, we split the mortgage. The condo goes to me, but I’ll reimburse you for your portion of the mortgage payments in cash.” “You keep the car. We split the savings fifty-fifty.” “Pretty generous of me, don’t you think?” Tears immediately streamed down Maya’s face. She grabbed my arm, crying and begging. “No! I don’t want a divorce! Ethan, I was wrong, I was so wrong!” “It was a moment of weakness! You’re the one I love!” “Give me one more chance, please? I’ll cut Derek off completely!” Gently but firmly, I pried her fingers off one by one. “Maya, it’s too late.” “When I found out you used the money we’d been saving for a car to buy him the latest phone—it was already too late.” “When I found out you lied about working overtime but were actually celebrating his birthday—it was already too late.” “When I saw that hickey on your neck and you told me it was a mosquito bite allergy—it was already too late.” With each statement, her face grew paler. By the end, she was trembling all over, as if all the strength had been drained from her body. “Sign it.” I handed her the pen. “Don’t make me make this any uglier than it needs to be.” Her gaze fixed on the words “marital infidelity” in the divorce agreement. Her body swayed, nearly collapsing. Maya eventually signed. She knew that what I had on her was enough to destroy her reputation completely. Walking out of the courthouse, our marriage certificate replaced by divorce papers, I felt an indescribable mix of emotions. Relief, but also a hint of emptiness. Three years of my life, all fed to the dogs. I’d just gotten in my car when an unknown number called. I answered. An arrogant male voice came through. “Is this Ethan? It’s Derek.” I said nothing, waiting for him to continue. “So you and Maya got divorced?” “Well, well. Got some balls, I’ll give you that. But hey, you actually did us a favor.” “Maya’s at my place right now, crying her eyes out. Breaks my heart to see her like this.” “Come on, man, why be so petty? She just made a mistake that all women make, you know?” Listening to his twisted logic, I was so angry I laughed. “Done?” Derek paused. “Huh?” “If you’re done, I’m hanging up. I don’t have time to listen to dogs bark.” With that, I hung up and blocked the number. I hit the gas, merging into traffic. This wasn’t the time for wallowing in self-pity. The revenge had only just begun. Did Maya think that once we divorced and split the assets, this was over? How naive. **[Chapter Three]** I pulled out another phone and dialed a number. “Hey Ryan, how’s that thing I asked you to look into coming along?” Ryan was a private investigator I’d met while working on a project. The guy had connections everywhere. “Ethan, my man, it’s all handled. That Derek guy—looks all respectable on the outside, manager at some investment firm, but his ass is dirty as hell.” “He’s been using his position for insider trading. Made about two hundred grand illegally. I’ve compiled all the evidence and emailed it to you.” “Oh, and he’s not just messing around with Maya. He’s got several girls on the hook, including one who’s his boss’s daughter.” My eyes went cold. “Thanks, Ryan. I’ll transfer the money to you right away.” I hung up and opened my email. An encrypted file sat there waiting. Derek. Maya. Your “good days” are just beginning. I didn’t release the evidence right away. Bullets should be saved for the most critical moment. First, I called Maya’s parents. The phone had barely connected when my mother-in-law—well, former mother-in-law now—blasted through with her familiar booming voice. “Ethan? What’s going on with you and Maya? Why aren’t you answering her calls? Are you bullying her?” I spoke calmly. “Ma’am, Maya and I are divorced.”Silence on the other end for a full ten seconds. “Di… divorced? Why?! Weren’t you two doing fine?” “You’ll have to ask your wonderful daughter about that.” “You can also ask her who Derek is.” With that, I hung up. I could imagine the chaos erupting in the household right now. Next, I printed out hundreds of copies of the intimate photos of Derek and Maya, along with screenshots of their hotel booking records. All anonymous. Then I drove to the school where Maya worked. She was a dance teacher at a private elementary school. She’d always been most concerned about her “gentle and refined” image. I didn’t go inside. I just stood at the school entrance, distributing these printed “evidence” copies to the parents picking up their kids. “Free entertainment. No need to thank me.” The parent chat groups exploded. “Oh my God! Isn’t this Miss Maya who teaches our kids?” “Holy crap, she looks so innocent, but she’s playing these games?” “Who’s this guy? He doesn’t look like her husband!” “Tsk tsk tsk, you really can’t judge a book by its cover. How can someone like this be a teacher? Don’t want her corrupting my kid!” Public opinion can be a knife that kills. I wanted her most precious reputation to rot completely. After finishing all this, I drove away, my mission accomplished. Halfway there, I got a call from my mom. “Son, you and Maya… you really divorced?” I made an affirmative sound. On the other end, my mom sighed. “It’s for the best. That kind of woman doesn’t deserve my son.” “I always felt something was off about the way she looked at you, like she had ulterior motives. But you wouldn’t listen.” “Come home. Mom will make you your favorite dishes.” Warmth flooded through me, my eyes getting a bit hot. “Okay.” **[Chapter Four]** When I got home, my mom had indeed prepared a whole table full of my favorite foods. My dad sat to the side. Though he didn’t say a word, the concern in his eyes was impossible to hide. “Mom, Dad, I’m fine.” I pushed the rice around in my bowl, my voice a bit muffled. My mom served me some braised pork. “Good that you’re fine. There are plenty of good girls in the world. We’re not worried.” “Do you have enough money? If not, Mom has some.” I shook my head. “I’m good. The company has a project coming up. If it goes well, I’ll get a nice bonus.” After dinner, I shut myself in my room and opened my computer. I divided the evidence Ryan had sent about Derek’s insider trading into several portions. One portion, I anonymously sent to the Securities and Exchange Commission’s reporting email. One portion, I anonymously sent to Derek’s company compliance department’s reporting email. And the most explosive portion—the chat records and photos of him with his boss’s daughter and several other women—I sent directly to his boss’s private email. Also anonymous. For the email subject line, I made it bold and enlarged. **[A cuckold’s crown for Mr. Williams. Please accept delivery.]** After finishing all this, I let out a long breath. Now, time to sit back and watch the show. Early the next morning, I got a call from my childhood friend Kyle. “Ethan! Holy shit! Dude, you’re a legend!” “That whole thing with your ex-wife is blowing up at her school! I heard she’s been suspended!” I smiled. “That’s just the appetizer.” “There’s more?!” Kyle’s voice was bursting with excitement. “Wait for the news.” I hung up and scrolled through the local financial news. Sure enough, one story had shot to the top of the headlines. **[XX Investment Company Executive Derek S. Suspected of Insider Trading, Taken by Police for Questioning]** The accompanying photo showed Derek being escorted out of the company by two police officers, his face ashen with despair. The comments section was already exploding. “Holy crap, isn’t this my classmate? He always seemed so successful!” “You never really know people. He’d do anything for money.” “I heard he was also two-timing multiple women and even cheated with his boss’s daughter. Is that true?” I read these comments, feeling a surge of satisfaction. Derek, this is just the beginning. Prison time—that’s your true destination. With Derek arrested, Maya completely fell apart. The private school where she worked valued teacher ethics and reputation above all else. After such a huge scandal, her termination was guaranteed. She called and texted me frantically. The content went from cursing at first to desperate pleading later. “Ethan, I’m begging you, please let me go!” “I know I was wrong, I really know I was wrong!” “Can you please delete those photos? The school is going to fire me! I can’t lose this job!” “As long as you help me, I’ll do anything you want!” Looking at these messages, I only felt the irony. If you knew this day would come, why did you do it in the first place? I didn’t reply to a single message. Mercy to your enemies is cruelty to yourself. Two days later, an unexpected person found me outside my company building. My former mother-in-law. She wasn’t as arrogant as she’d been on the phone last time. Her face was plastered with an ingratiating smile, and she carried a basket of fruit. “Ethan, look at you, acting like we’re strangers.” “Even if you and Maya are divorced, we’re still family, aren’t we?” I leaned against the wall, looking at her with a half-smile. “Ma’am, if you have something to say, say it.” Her smile stiffened for a moment, then she continued. “Well… about Maya’s job situation… do you think you could talk to the principal? Didn’t you have dinner with them before?” “If she loses her job, it doesn’t look good for you either, does it?” I was almost amused by her twisted logic. “First, Maya and I have no relationship anymore. Her affairs have nothing to do with me.” “Second, you know exactly why she’s being fired, don’t you? She did something wrong. I didn’t make her lose her job.” “Third, whether it looks good for me or not isn’t your concern.” “If there’s nothing else, please leave. I have work to do.” My former mother-in-law’s expression immediately soured. “Ethan! Don’t be so ungrateful!” “So what if she cheated? It’s not that big a deal! Maya’s young and didn’t know better. What’s wrong with making a mistake?” “Can’t you be the bigger person? Do you have to push her to the edge like this?” I looked at her coldly. “Be the bigger person?” “When she despised me for being poor and ran off with Derek, why didn’t you tell her to be the bigger person?” “When she used my card to buy things for Derek, why didn’t you tell her to be the bigger person?” “Now that she’s in trouble, you want ME to be the bigger person? Too late!” “Get lost!” That last word, I practically shouted. My former mother-in-law was so frightened by my intensity that she stepped back twice, pointing at me and sputtering “you, you, you” for a while before slinking away in defeat.

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On our fifth wedding anniversary, I came out of hiding behind Holden’s back to make my comeback. I wanted to surprise him. But on the massive billboard at Lincoln Center, my spot had been given to Serena Miles, the woman who destroyed my voice with corrosive chemicals three years ago. Through the half-open dressing room door, I heard her saccharine voice. “Darling, you gave me your wife’s most precious stage. What if she makes a scene?” Then came Holden’s low, familiar voice. “She will never know. She is a broken has-been now who can’t even hit the high notes. Where else would she go except stay home and wait for me?” I stood outside the door, trembling all over. So the “psychiatric facility” was a lie. He had been keeping my lifelong enemy as his mistress for three years. All my desperate rehabilitation, and all I got was. “Only by breaking her wings will she stay obediently by my side.” Lily’s POV On our fifth wedding anniversary, I went to Lincoln Center without telling Holden. Three years ago, my vocal cords were severely burned by a corrosive chemical. I could never sing soprano again. After more than a thousand days and nights of agonizing rehabilitation, from being completely unable to make a sound to finally speaking full sentences, the top medical team in England finally told me my voice had recovered. I could sing again. I wanted to reclaim my principal position at tonight’s fifth anniversary special performance and surprise Holden. But when I walked up to the theater entrance full of anticipation, I froze in place. On the massive electronic billboard outside, the spot that should have been mine now showed a face both familiar and nauseating. Serena Miles. My breath caught instantly. I felt like I’d plunged into ice water. How could Serena be here? How dare she show her face here! Three years ago, Serena had been jealous of my status in the opera world. She put a corrosive agent in my throat spray and personally destroyed my voice, broke my wings. The day we learned the truth, Holden’s eyes were bloodshot. He grabbed Serena by the throat and said he’d make her wish she were dead. To avenge me, Holden said he’d sent Serena to the most remote underground psychiatric facility in New York, where she’d endure inhuman torture every day. He said anyone who dared harm his woman would pay a price worse than death. For three years, whenever I had nightmares, Holden would hold me gently, kiss the scar on my neck, and repeat: “Don’t be afraid. The person who hurt you is atoning in hell.” But now, the woman who was supposed to be atoning in hell was wearing a gorgeous haute couture gown, appearing on a billboard at New York’s most prestigious theater! What the hell was going on?! I trembled all over as I rushed into the theater in my heels. Using my familiarity with the place, I avoided the staff and walked straight to the principal’s dressing room backstage. The door was ajar. Muffled voices came from inside. “Holden, is this dress too tight? I’m afraid I won’t be able to hit the high notes tonight.” It was Serena’s saccharine voice. My footsteps stopped abruptly. My nails dug into my palms. Holden? In all of New York, who else would dare call the cold, ruthless heir to the Chase fortune by his first name so intimately? No one but me. Then came Holden’s low, familiar voice, the voice that used to be gentle only for me. “Tight looks good. If you can’t hit the high notes, it’s fine. The sound engineer will adjust it for you. Tonight you just need to stand on stage looking beautiful and enjoy everyone’s applause.” “But…” Serena sounded uncertain. “Tonight is your fifth anniversary with Lily. You gave me the stage she cares about most. What if she finds out and makes a scene?” “She won’t know.” Holden’s tone was certain and cold. “She’s a broken has-been who can’t even hit the high notes anymore. Where else would she go except stay home and wait for me?” My mind went completely blank. So this was how he saw me. I’d fought desperately through rehabilitation, breaking into cold sweats from pain every day, just to be worthy of him again. And all I was to him was a has-been. “Darling, you’re so good to me.” Serena giggled, her voice dripping with smugness. “Three years ago I destroyed her voice, and not only didn’t you send me to a psychiatric facility, you hid me in a villa in LA to live in luxury. Now you’re letting me take her place for a comeback. Have you grown tired of her?” The dressing room went quiet for a few seconds. I pressed my hand over my mouth, tears streaming down my face. My heart felt like it was being sawed back and forth with a dull knife. The pain nearly knocked me off my feet. So the psychiatric facility, the suffering worse than death, it was all lies. He had kept the enemy who destroyed my life as his mistress for three years. “Don’t talk nonsense.” Holden’s voice was emotionless. “I love her. But she used to be too dazzling, flying all over the world, never coming home. Only by breaking her wings would she stay obediently by my side and be a Mrs. Chase who depends entirely on me.” “As for you, you helped me keep her. This is your reward.” I staggered back a step. My heel accidentally knocked against a prop box, making a dull thud. “Who’s out there?!” Holden’s sharp voice instantly pierced through the door. I didn’t run. I stood there rigidly, watching the dressing room door get yanked open. Holden wore a perfectly tailored black suit, his posture straight, his eyes still carrying their usual coldness. But when he saw it was me outside the door, panic flashed in his eyes, though he quickly masked it perfectly. “Lily? What are you doing here? You didn’t hear anything just now, did you?” He strode toward me, instinctively reaching to pull me close, his tone gentle but unable to hide his tension. I stepped back, dodging his hand. I looked at this man I had loved for five years, at his seemingly devoted face, and felt nothing but disgust.

Lily’s POV I laughed coldly and asked instead of answering. “What do you hope I heard?” Holden’s hand froze in mid-air. His brow furrowed. “This isn’t a place you should be. We’ll talk at home.” I ignored him and looked past his shoulder into the dressing room. Serena wore a midnight blue velvet gown that had originally belonged to me, a custom piece from a top British designer made for my comeback performance. Now it was on the body of the woman who destroyed my voice. Serena looked at me, her eyes full of provocation. Her smugness stung me. Fighting back the ache, I demanded: “Holden, why is she wearing my dress? Don’t you think you owe me an explanation?” Holden saw my reddened eyes and sighed, stepping forward to forcibly take my hand. “Lily, you’re misunderstanding. I put her on that stage to humiliate her.” I laughed bitterly. “Humiliate?” “Yes.” Holden’s expression didn’t change, his eyes terrifyingly sincere. “She destroyed your dream years ago, so I’m going to make her humiliate herself in front of everyone. She doesn’t have your talent. Tonight during the performance, I’ll have the sound engineer cut her microphone and let her lose face in front of all of New York’s elite. That’s worse than locking her in a psychiatric facility. It’ll make her wish she were dead.” He said it so matter-of-factly, so devotedly. If I hadn’t just heard him promise the sound engineer would help adjust her audio, I might have actually believed this bullshit. “Really?” I pulled my hand away and looked at him coldly. “Fine. Then I’ll watch from the audience and see how you make her wish she were dead.” With that, I turned and walked away, spine straight. At eight PM, the performance officially began. I sat in the most secluded box on the second floor, watching the glittering stage lights. Serena made her entrance. She wore that midnight blue gown and a diamond necklace worth a fortune, looking like a noble queen. The music started. Serena began to sing. The microphone wasn’t cut. Not only that, but the sound engineer used top-tier equipment to embellish her mediocre voice, making it sound ethereal and graceful. The entire hall erupted in applause. My gaze cut through the crowd, fixed on the man in the center of the front row VIP section. Holden sat there, posture lazy and refined. He watched Serena on stage, the corners of his mouth curving in appreciation. When the song ended, Serena took an elegant bow. Holden stood up and, under everyone’s envious gazes, personally walked onto the stage and handed Serena a bouquet of vibrant blue roses. Blue roses. Those were my signature. Holden had once reserved an entire flower field just to cultivate the purest blue roses. He’d said: “Lily, only this one-of-a-kind blue is worthy of you.” But now, he’d personally given that uniqueness to Serena. Serena accepted the flowers and lowered her head shyly. The two smiled at each other on stage like a loving couple. I sat in the dark box watching this scene, suddenly finding it a bit funny. I laughed out loud. As I laughed, tears fell in large drops onto the back of my hand. I used to think Holden was my only salvation when I fell into the abyss. After my voice was destroyed, I developed severe depression and attempted suicide several times. Each time, it was Holden who held me all night, eyes red, begging me to live. He’d said: “Lily, you still have me. Even if you can never sing again, you’re still my life.” Turns out, he never wanted a brilliant opera singer. He wanted a broken thing that could only cling to him, unable to leave him. He personally built a cage called love, locked me inside, then turned around and gave the stage and glory I craved most to another woman. After the performance, I didn’t wait for Holden. I took a cab back to the villa alone. In the empty living room, I didn’t turn on the lights. I sat on the sofa like a soulless puppet. I don’t know how much time passed before I heard the fingerprint lock at the front door. Holden walked in carrying a faint smell of alcohol. He turned on the light and saw me sitting on the sofa. He paused for a moment, then walked over and pulled me into his arms. “Lily, why didn’t you turn on the lights? Were you waiting for me?” He lowered his head to kiss my cheek, but I smelled Serena’s perfume on him. “Didn’t you say you were going to humiliate her on stage?” I didn’t dodge, just spoke woodenly. Holden’s movements froze. His eyes darkened, his tone apologetic. “Lily, I’m sorry. There was a change of plans. The organizers had some issues. If I’d let her humiliate herself on the spot, it would have damaged the theater’s reputation. Don’t worry, I’ll have plenty of ways to torture her later.” “Really?” I turned my head and looked straight into his eyes. “And the blue roses? Were those to torture her too?”

Lily’s POV Holden’s eyes turned cold. His face showed impatience, but he still placated me. “I was just respecting the organizers and helping them complete tonight’s performance. No matter who was on that stage, I would have done the same thing.” “Lily, stop being upset with me. Today is our fifth anniversary. Let’s not waste it…” As Holden spoke, his hands began wandering restlessly over my body, his breath hot against my neck, his tone suggestive. My heart grew colder. “Holden, you disgust me. You put the woman who destroyed my voice on that stage, gave her my flowers, and now you think a few words can brush it all aside.” Holden’s movements stopped abruptly. His tone turned cold: “Lily, since when did you become so petty?” “Fine. You want the truth? I’ll tell you. Serena has depression. Her doctor said she needs the stage to build her confidence, or she’ll die! Lily, you’ve always been kind. Are you really going to watch someone die?” I froze. I looked at the man in front of me as if I were looking at a complete stranger, a monster. “She has depression?” My voice shook badly. “Holden, when my voice was destroyed and I couldn’t sleep for three years, when I was losing handfuls of hair, when I was slitting my wrists, why didn’t you say I might die? Now you’re accusing me of not being kind enough for the sake of a criminal?” Holden took a deep breath, suppressing his anger, trying to take my hand. “Lily, don’t be so angry. I just don’t want you living in hatred forever. Aren’t you fine now? You have me with you. We have a whole lifetime together.” I yanked my hand back forcefully, finding the hand that had touched Serena unbearably filthy. “I’m tired. I want to rest.” I stood up and walked upstairs without looking back. The next morning when I came downstairs, Holden had already left for the office. A maid was putting away the suit he’d changed out of. I walked over. My eyes fell on the jacket pocket, where a corner of white card stock peeked out. I don’t even know why, but I reached out and pulled out the card. It was an access card. It had the One57 logo on it. That was New York’s most exclusive luxury high-rise, with only one unit per floor. Non-residents couldn’t get in at all. Holden owned many properties, but he never stayed in them. I gripped the card tightly, my knuckles turning white. That afternoon, I put on sunglasses and a mask and took a cab to One57. I swiped the card at the main entrance and took the private elevator straight to the top floor. When the elevator doors opened, I saw a solid white oak door. I took a deep breath and used the access card to unlock it. The lock beeped softly. I pushed the door open. When I saw what was inside, I felt like I’d been struck by lightning. The decoration style, the furniture layout, even the custom shoe cabinet by the entrance, everything was identical to the home Holden and I shared. The only difference was that these walls were covered with photos of Serena. Serena on stage. Serena on vacation at the beach. And… photos of Serena with Holden. In the photos, Holden wore casual clothes, looking down at Serena with an expression of relaxation and affection I’d never seen! I couldn’t breathe. It felt like an invisible hand was choking my throat. I walked step by step into the living room. On the table sat two overlapping wine glasses. On the sofa lay a carelessly tossed men’s shirt. It was the shirt Holden had worn last night. So when he said the company had an emergency and left in the middle of the night, he’d come here. I felt ice cold all over as I walked into the bedroom. The bedroom layout nearly broke me completely. The sheets were champagne-colored silk, my favorite. The vanity was covered with expensive skincare products. And the walk-in closet was hung with row after row of haute couture. Half of them were pieces I’d admired but been told by the brands had already been purchased by a mysterious buyer. Turns out that mysterious buyer was my husband, and these clothes were worn by the woman who destroyed me. Click. The sound of a lock opening suddenly came from outside. I snapped back to attention, my heart pounding. I quickly looked around and hid in the spacious walk-in closet, peering out through the slats of the louvered door. Footsteps grew closer. “Holden, why did you come over so early today?” Serena’s sweet voice rang out. “I missed you.” Holden’s voice was low and husky, carrying obvious warmth. The two walked into the bedroom embracing, falling onto that champagne silk bed. I pressed my hand hard over my mouth, tears flowing uncontrollably, my body shaking violently beyond my control. I watched my husband of five years, in this house that was a complete replica of our marital home, making love to another woman with total abandon. Overwhelming nausea crashed over me! Their every gasp and moan was like a sharp awl drilling viciously into my skull!

Lily’s POV I don’t know how much time passed before the commotion outside finally quieted. “Holden…” Serena’s voice carried satisfied laziness. “You ran out in the middle of the night to be with me. Didn’t Lily make a scene?” “What would she make a scene about?” Holden lit a cigarette. The lighter made a crisp click. “She can’t live without me now. As long as I sweet-talk her a little, she’ll obediently do what I say.” “Aren’t you afraid she’ll discover the truth?” Serena laughed lightly, her tone full of undisguised malice. “What if she finds out that I deliberately put that stuff in her water years ago, and you not only knew all along but helped me destroy the security footage and even used it as an excuse to keep her caged… Do you think she’d go insane?” In the closet, my eyes flew wide open. Even my breathing stopped completely in that moment. What did I just hear? Holden knew all along? He helped Serena destroy the surveillance footage?! “Shut up.” Holden’s voice instantly turned cold, carrying a warning. “Take that to your grave. If she ever finds out, I won’t forgive you.” “Oh, I’m just talking.” Seeing him angry, Serena quickly pressed herself against him coquettishly. “I just think you’re too cruel to her. You knew how much she loved that stage, but you personally broke her wings.” “Cruel?” Holden laughed coldly and exhaled a smoke ring. “She was too proud. If I didn’t pull her down from her pedestal, she’d never stay obediently by my side. I gave her the identity of Mrs. Chase and more money than she could spend in a lifetime. What more could she want?” “Right, right, you love her most.” Serena’s tone carried a hint of jealousy. “What about me? I did such a huge thing for you. Are you planning to keep me hidden here forever?” “What’s the rush.” Holden stubbed out his cigarette. “When the time is right, I’ll arrange for you to enter the most famous opera house. The fame and fortune you want, I’ll give it all to you.” “Thank you, darling!” Serena cheered and kissed him again. I leaned against the cold wall, gasping for breath. My tears had run dry. All that remained was desolation and death in my heart. So that’s how it was. It had all been an elaborate, carefully planned deception. What I thought was an accident was Serena’s deliberate sabotage. What I thought was salvation was a cage Holden built with his own hands. The love I treasured was, in Holden’s eyes, nothing more than a game to satisfy his twisted need for control. He enjoyed my dependence and pain while having his fun with the real culprit. How terrifying. This man I’d shared a bed with for five years was a complete monster… I escaped from that penthouse while they went to shower together. I wandered the bustling streets of New York like a corpse. The early autumn wind cut into my skin, bone-chillingly cold. I didn’t go back to the villa. Instead, I went to an inconspicuous café and used a public phone to dial an international number. “Hello, Dr. Bennett? This is Lily Hart.” A delighted voice came through from the renowned British vocal specialist: “Ms. Hart! Your voice has recovered beautifully. As long as you continue with the final medication regimen, you can absolutely return to your peak! Have you decided about auditioning for the Royal Opera House?” “I’ve decided.” My voice carried the calm that comes after complete despair. “Please arrange an audition for next month. Also, I’m running low on my medication. Could you send me another treatment cycle?” “No problem! Looking forward to seeing you in England!” I hung up and watched people come and go outside the window, my eyes gradually turning cold. I wouldn’t make a scene. I wouldn’t confront Holden. Reasoning with a monster would only get me killed more miserably. I had to escape. I had to completely leave this nauseating cage and take back everything that belonged to me. At ten PM, I returned to the villa. Holden wasn’t home yet. I took a shower, changed into clean pajamas, and sat at my vanity, slowly covering my pale face with makeup. At 11:30, I heard a car engine downstairs. Soon after, the bedroom door opened. Holden walked in holding an exquisite velvet gift box. He saw me sitting on the bed. His eyes softened. He walked over and pulled me into his arms. “Lily, still awake?” I suppressed my nausea and didn’t push him away, just hummed softly. “Still angry about last night?” Holden opened the gift box. Inside was a pink diamond necklace worth a fortune. “I specially had someone buy this from England. It’s my fifth anniversary gift to you. Do you like it?” I looked at that dazzling necklace, but what flashed through my mind was the equally expensive diamond around Serena’s neck. “Thank you. It’s beautiful.” I forced out a stiff smile. Holden personally fastened the necklace around my neck, his fingertips deliberately or not grazing the shallow scar where my vocal cords were. “Lily, I’m taking vacation next week. How about I take you to England to relax? You’ve always wanted to see the scenery there, haven’t you?” I lowered my eyes, hiding the coldness in them. “Sure,” I said softly. Going to England. Perfect.

Lily’s POV Over the next few days, I was unusually obedient. I stopped mentioning the theater. I stopped asking why Holden came home late. I took the medication Dr. Bennett sent on schedule every day. When Holden wasn’t home, I’d lock myself in the soundproof practice room, slowly recovering my vocal techniques. Holden was very satisfied with my transformation. He thought I’d finally accepted reality and fully embraced my fate of being kept. To reward my compliance, Holden cancelled many business commitments and came home early every day to have dinner with me. He even cooked my favorite dishes himself. Watching him bustle around in the kitchen, I only felt irony. If I hadn’t heard those words with my own ears, I really would have been fooled by his performance as a devoted husband for the rest of my life. Two days until the England trip. I’d secretly packed my important documents and Dr. Bennett’s letter of recommendation, hiding them in the lining of an inconspicuous old suitcase. Once I got on that plane to England, I’d find a way to break free. However, the night before departure, Holden took a phone call and his expression changed slightly. He walked onto the balcony and said a few things in a low voice, then returned to the bedroom and looked at me apologetically. “Lily, I’m sorry.” He came over and took my hand. “One of the company’s major overseas projects suddenly hit a snag. I have to fly to LA tomorrow to handle it personally. The England trip might have to be postponed a few days.” I looked into his deep eyes and laughed coldly inside. LA? Just this afternoon, I’d seen a post on Serena’s unblocked private social media account: “Looking forward to tomorrow’s birthday party. Having the person I love most by my side is the greatest happiness.” Tomorrow was Serena’s birthday. Holden wasn’t going to LA on business at all. He was going to celebrate his precious mistress’s birthday. “Is it serious?” I withdrew my hand and asked with feigned concern. “Yeah, a bit tricky.” Holden smoothly stroked my hair, his tone gentle but unable to hide his tension. “Just stay home and wait for me. I’ll come back to be with you as soon as I’m done.” “Okay.” I lowered my eyes. “Work comes first.” Early the next morning, Holden left with his suitcase. I stood at the second-floor window, watching his car drive out through the villa gates, my eyes turning completely cold. That afternoon, Serena’s private account started updating frantically. The photos showed an extremely luxurious private club suite. Flowers, balloons, champagne towers, and mountains of expensive gifts. One photo showed Serena wearing a birthday crown, hands clasped in a wish. At the edge of the photo, a man’s hand accidentally appeared. That hand wore a limited edition Patek Philippe watch. It was the birthday gift I’d given Holden last year. I stared at that photo for a long time, then suddenly picked up my phone and called Holden. The phone rang for a while before being answered. The background noise was somewhat chaotic. I could faintly hear music. “Lily? What’s wrong?” Holden’s voice sounded tense. “Where are you?” I asked. “In LA, about to start a meeting.” Holden lied without even pausing. “It’s a bit noisy here. Can I call you back later?” “Okay.” I hung up directly. I changed into a simple black trench coat, put on sunglasses, and took a cab to the high-end private club from the photo background, Eclipse. The club operated on a strict membership system, but I used to be a top-tier VIP here. I used facial recognition to get through the main entrance and walked straight to the luxury suite on the top floor where Serena was. The suite door wasn’t fully closed. Laughter and chatter came from inside. “Serena, Holden is so good to you. This is such an elaborate setup!” a woman’s voice said flatteringly. “Of course.” Serena’s tone was smug. “He said that woman is useless now. He’s going to divorce her sooner or later. When the time comes, I’ll be the real Mrs. Chase.” I stood outside the door listening to these grating words, then pushed the door open. Bang. The suite instantly went silent. Everyone’s eyes focused on me in the doorway. Holden sat in the center of the sofa holding a glass of red wine. The moment he saw me, his wine glass shook violently, red liquid spilling onto his expensive suit pants. “Lily?” He shot to his feet, his face instantly darkening. “What are you doing here?” I ignored him and walked straight up to Serena. Seeing me, Serena showed no panic. Instead, emboldened by Holden’s presence, she thrust out her chest deliberately. “Lily, what are you doing here? You’re not welcome.” I looked at her meticulously made-up face and suddenly raised my hand. Smack! A resounding slap landed hard across Serena’s face.

Lily’s POV I put all my strength into that slap. Serena’s head snapped to the side. Five clear red finger marks instantly appeared on her pale face. She covered her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief, then tears immediately welled up and spilled over. “Holden…” She turned to look at Holden, her voice trembling with grievance. The suite fell deathly silent. Holden’s expression was dark enough to freeze over. He strode forward, yanked Serena behind him, and stared at me with piercing eyes. “Lily, have you lost your mind?!” I watched him protect Serena and felt the last warmth in my heart go completely cold. “I’ve lost my mind?” I laughed coldly, pointing at Serena. “Holden, didn’t you say you were in LA for a meeting? Your meeting is at this woman’s birthday party?” “This is my private business. It’s not your place to interfere! Apologize to Serena right now.” “Apologize?” I sounded like I’d heard the world’s biggest joke. “She destroyed my voice, stole my stage, and now wants to take my place. You want me to apologize to her?” “Lily!Holden suddenly raised his voice, his eyes terrifyingly cold. “I’ll say this one last time. Apologize. Otherwise, you’ll never see Dr. Bennett again for the rest of your life.” My whole body shook. I looked at him in disbelief. Dr. Bennett was my only hope for rehabilitation. Holden was actually using this to threaten me? “You’ve been investigating me?” My voice trembled slightly. “You think you could contact a doctor privately without me knowing?” Holden looked down at me from above, his eyes full of cruel possessiveness. “Lily, I gave you a chance. You chose not to be obedient. Since you want so badly to fix your voice and leave me, I’ll personally cut off all your hope.” I felt like I’d fallen into hell. I finally understood that I had no secrets from this man. He was like an airtight net, trapping me inside, watching me struggle, watching me despair. I saw Serena hiding behind Holden, a smug, cold smile at the corner of her mouth. She suddenly stepped forward and reached out to grab my sleeve. “Miss Hart, don’t be angry. It’s all my fault. I shouldn’t have let Holden come celebrate my birthday. You can hit me or yell at me, just please don’t fight with Holden…” As she spoke, she deliberately stepped backward. The instant her hand touched my sleeve, Serena suddenly screamed and fell straight backward. “Ah!” Serena hit the floor hard. Her forehead struck the edge of the table, instantly drawing blood. “Serena!” Holden’s expression changed drastically. He immediately crouched down and pulled her into his arms. “Holden, it hurts…” Serena leaned weakly against him, looking at me with tearful eyes. “Lily, I just wanted to apologize. Why did you push me?” I stood there, coldly watching Serena’s poor acting. “I didn’t push you.” “Enough!” Holden suddenly looked up. “Lily, you’ve disappointed me so much. I always thought you were just willful. I never imagined you’d become so vicious!” Vicious? I looked at this husband who was accusing me for the sake of his mistress and suddenly felt utterly exhausted. “Think whatever you want.” I turned around, ready to leave this suffocating place. “Stop!” Holden’s cold voice rang out behind me. “Escort Mrs. Chase back to the villa. Without my permission, she’s not allowed to step one foot outside!” The bodyguards outside immediately rushed in, blocking my path on both sides. I didn’t struggle. I knew that in New York, as long as Holden didn’t want me to leave, I couldn’t. I looked back at Holden. For the first time, my eyes held no emotion, just desolate, deathly calm. When Holden met my gaze, he said nothing. He just picked up the injured Serena and strode out of the suite.

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On my eighteenth birthday, I discovered that James Carter, the Alpha’s son I had been crushing on for two years, was my Fated Mate. That same day, he rejected me. And told me. “You’re too weak, and you spend all your time hanging around those pups. The thought of you liking me makes me sick.” “I need a stronger wolf to be my mate, to become the Pack’s future Luna. That person could never be you.” In the pouring rain, I decided to leave the Pack and go to college in London. But I never expected I would meet my Second Chance Mate there, a powerful Alpha. And when I returned to my Pack, James had become a Rogue. Stella Stone POV On my eighteenth birthday, I found out that James Carter, the Alpha’s son I had been crushing on for two years, was my Fated Mate. That same day, he rejected me and told me. “You’re too weak, and you spend all your time hanging around the younger wolves. The thought of you liking me makes me sick.” “I need a stronger wolf to be my mate, to become the Pack’s future Luna. That person could never be you.” In the pouring rain, I decided to leave the Pack and go to college in London. But I never expected to meet my Second Chance Mate there, a powerful Alpha. And when I returned to my Pack, James had become a Rogue. “I’ll grow up!” He laughed and said casually: “Sure. When you turn eighteen, if you can awaken your wolf, I’ll give you an answer.” For that answer, I chased after him for two years. My entire youth was written with his name. Today, I finally turned eighteen. I successfully awakened my wolf and went to get that answer that was two years overdue. But just as I reached the Council Hall entrance, I heard voices from inside. I froze. The men’s teasing voices came through clearly. “James, that’s brutal, man.” One guy was laughing. “Straight up choosing Grace as your mate. What if Stella really is your fated mate?” James’s voice rang out with its usual lazy drawl and a hint of impatience. “Even if she really is my fated mate, I wouldn’t choose her. Worst case, I’ll just reject her. She’s too weak, and she’s always clinging to me. It’s annoying.” Another voice chimed in. “True. That girl’s like a sticker, you can’t shake her off. But why Grace?” James chuckled lightly, his tone dripping with arrogant certainty. “Grace has a powerful bloodline. Her grandfather was an Alpha. Marking her will help boost my strength. Plus, this way Stella will finally understand she’s not good enough for me.” “So you’re choosing Stella’s birthday to give her this surprise?” “Killing two birds with one stone.” James’s voice was ice-cold. “I’ll make Stella give up for good, and let Grace know my intentions. I already had someone send her the ceremony notice. Today I’m just giving her a heads-up.” “Damn, James! If Stella actually shows up and makes a scene at the mate ceremony, that’ll be one hell of a show!” “She wouldn’t dare.” Those two words from James hit my ears like stones. So this was it. The answer I’d been waiting for with such hope was a carefully orchestrated humiliation. I was nothing but a weak, ordinary wolf who didn’t deserve his status. The homemade cake I’d been holding dropped to the ground, a pathetic mess. The voices inside stopped abruptly. The door flew open. James stood in the doorway. When he saw me, there wasn’t a trace of surprise in his eyes. I looked at him, this man I had loved for two years. At the same time, I felt the call echoing in my mind: Mine… fated mate… “Bad timing.” His tone was flat. I didn’t say anything, just looked at him. “So you really are… Well, that saves me the trouble.” James pulled something from his pocket and put it away. “I’m going to become mates with Grace. So, Stella, as the Alpha’s son of Silverstream Pack, I reject you as my mate.” I bit my lip, fighting through the pain as I nodded. Then I turned and ran into the rain. I didn’t cry. I didn’t even look back once. The icy rain poured down on me. My mind felt clearer than ever before. So that was all I was to him, a weak wolf he looked down on. My two years of pursuit and devotion were nothing but a clown’s performance. I rushed home. Brian wasn’t there. I grabbed my phone and called him. On the other end, Brian’s voice was full of concern. “Stella? What’s wrong?” I took a deep breath. “Brian, I have made up my mind.” “About what?” “What you mentioned before, about me going abroad for college. I agree.” Silence on the other end for a few seconds, then Brian’s excited voice came through. “Really? That’s great. You finally came around.” “Also…” I looked at the blurry moonlight in the distance. “That friend you wanted to introduce me to last time. Set it up. I want to meet new people.” “No problem! Stella, whatever you do, I support you!” After hanging up, I let out a long breath. I’d given him two years. That was enough. I stripped off my soaked clothes and walked into the bathroom. Hot water poured down from above, washing over my body. My phone dinged. A message from James. “Next month on the eighteenth. Don’t forget to come to my mate ceremony.” I stared at that message for a long time. Then I typed two words and hit send. “Okay.” After doing all this, I stood up and dragged a heavy box out from under my bed. Inside was everything I’d collected related to James over the past two years. Wristbands he had used. I had secretly picked them up and washed them clean. A wooden carving he had casually tossed to me. I had treasured it all this time. Our only photo together, where I stood in a corner of the crowd while he was front and center. I took everything out piece by piece and threw it into a large black garbage bag. Finally, I picked up the photo frame. The boy in the picture was full of spirit and radiance. I had naively thought that if I just tried hard enough, I could get a little closer to that light. Now I understood. Some people are just born to live in the shadows. I let go. The frame dropped into the garbage bag with a dull thud. I knew my two-year crush ended here.

James POV I received her reply while drinking at a bar with friends. Looking at the simple “Okay” on my phone screen, I couldn’t help but frown. She was too calm. Too calm for the Stella who would wait five hours in the snow just to see me. “James, what are you looking at?” A friend leaned over to check, then snorted with laughter. “Yo, Stella replied? What’s her angle? Giving up?” Another friend analyzed: “No way. You know this girl. She’s got a scheming mind. She definitely heard everything!” “Makes sense! She’s probably playing innocent and obedient to make us lower our guard, then she’ll pull something big at the ceremony!” Everyone chattered away, quickly finding a reasonable explanation for Stella’s behavior. I set down my drink and smiled. Of course. I knew Stella wouldn’t give up that easily. Fine. I’d play along. I wanted to see what tricks she could pull. I tossed my phone on the table and told everyone: “Forget about her. Everything goes according to plan.” Everyone laughed knowingly. Just then, the bar’s private room door swung open. Brian walked in, his face stormy. “James, get out here. We need to talk.” Brian’s voice was seething with suppressed fury. I leisurely poured myself another drink without looking at him. “Talk about what? Your sister?” “You know I’m not joking!” “Neither am I.” I swirled my glass. “Brian, control your sister. Stop letting her disgust me.” Brian’s fists clenched instantly, veins bulging on the backs of his hands. I didn’t even bother looking at him again. I grabbed my jacket and stood up. “I have plans with Grace. No time for this.” I walked right past Brian, deliberately slamming my shoulder into his. Leaving Brian standing there alone, trembling with rage. Brian POV Today was the Pack’s assembly day. The Pack’s adult members gathered in the Council Hall to hear the Alpha or the Alpha’s son announce upcoming arrangements. Stella had promised to come, but she still hadn’t shown up. I was worried, constantly glancing toward the Council Hall entrance. The atmosphere among the wolves was lively. Suddenly, there was a commotion at the door. James had arrived. He wore a leather jacket with Grace in a long dress beside him. Grace gently held his arm. The image immediately drew everyone’s attention. James POV I ignored everyone’s stares and walked straight toward a figure in the corner. Stella had arrived at some point. She wore worn jeans and a blue tank top, no makeup, quiet as an outsider. She’d lost weight. Her chin was so sharp it tugged at something in my chest. A strange feeling flashed through me, quickly replaced by disgust. Playing these pathetic games again. We walked over to her. Grace spoke softly. “Stella, I know you’re hurting, but you can’t force feelings. I’ve decided to become mates with James. You should let go.” Stella POV James’s friends immediately surrounded me, chiming in one after another. “Exactly, Stella. You’ve been chasing him for two years. Haven’t you faced reality yet?” “It was one thing when he was single, but now he’s decided to be with Grace. If you keep clinging, you’re just embarrassing yourself.” “You need to know your place. Unless you’re James’s fated mate, you have no right to become the future Luna.” Apparently James hadn’t told them that I was. That damned fated mate. And on the very day I discovered this fact, my mate rejected me. Maybe he thought being connected to me was shameful. Or maybe he just didn’t want people knowing he’d rejected his own fated mate. Usually werewolves didn’t do such things. I didn’t break down or cry like I used to. I just looked up at them. I looked at Grace with her smile, then at James’s friends. Finally, at James’s cold face. I smiled. “Is that so?” “Then I wish you both happiness.” With that, I turned and walked to a cushioned seat on the other side. James’s smile froze. Grace looked stunned. The surrounding friends exchanged glances. No one spoke again.

James POV An indescribable irritation surged up inside me. I hated this feeling of losing control. Stella shouldn’t have reacted this way. She should cry, make a scene, demand to know why I was treating her like this. Then I could smoothly throw all my cutting words in her face and make her leave my world for good. But she didn’t. She just calmly offered her blessing and walked away. “James, this…” The people around me were at a loss. Grace gently tugged my sleeve. “James, did I say something wrong? Stella seems really upset.” I suppressed that strange feeling and snorted coldly. “Upset? She’s faking.” Even as I said this, I couldn’t help watching her. Stella sat in the corner. Brian walked over, his face full of worry as he spoke to her in a low voice. Stella shook her head, even wearing a reassuring smile. That smile made me angry. Brian suddenly looked up, glaring at me furiously. He moved Stella behind him protectively and strode over. “James!” Brian’s voice crackled with towering rage. “What do you mean, saying all that in front of everyone?” I looked at him. “I’m just showing everyone my choice. What’s the problem?” “Cut the act!” Brian was so angry he could barely speak. “The things you have done to Stella, don’t think I don’t know. Are you even human?” “What did I do?” I couldn’t help raising an eyebrow. “I’m just having my mate meet everyone early, so certain people stop clinging to fantasies they shouldn’t have. I’m helping your sister face reality sooner.” “You.” Brian raised his fist to swing at me. “Brian!” …… Stella POV I rushed over and grabbed his arm. Looking at my brother Brian, I gently shook my head. Attacking the Alpha’s son in the Pack wasn’t a smart move. I was leaving the Pack, but I didn’t want my brother to betray it. Seeing this, Grace quickly hugged James’s arm and said softly to Brian: “Brian, don’t be angry. It’s all a misunderstanding. James didn’t mean any harm.” As she spoke, she seemed to lose her balance, her body tilting. The coffee cup in her hand slipped, and the entire contents spilled perfectly onto my clothes. “Ah!” Grace gasped and immediately grabbed a cloth to wipe the stain on my chest. “I’m so sorry, Stella! I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be mad.” I felt her hand seemingly wiping but actually pulling hard at my clothes. My shirt got dirtier with each wipe. I swatted Grace’s hand away. “Don’t touch me.” Grace stumbled back a step. Her eyes instantly reddened as she looked at James with a pitiful expression. “James, I…” James’s anger flared. He pulled Grace protectively behind him and snapped at me. “Stella, what’s your problem! Grace apologized. What more do you want?” I looked at him and found it laughable. Without saying anything, I pushed open the Council Hall door to leave. I saw a dark shadow charging toward the pups playing outside! A rogue! I whipped my head around and shouted at James. “James! Rogue attack! The pups! Go protect them!” You’re the Alpha’s son. You should protect them. But he looked toward the rogue’s direction, then glanced at Grace beside him. Then I saw him move. His action had a clear target. Protecting Grace first. Those pups didn’t matter to him as much as a single hair on Grace’s head. I didn’t have time to think. I lunged straight for the nearest little one. The poor thing was curled up in a trembling ball. The rogue’s claws were already swinging down. Forgive me. I had no combat experience and hadn’t gotten familiar with my wolf yet. All I could do was turn my back toward the attack. “Stella!” Brian’s heart-wrenching shout was drowned out by the massive impact. Searing pain exploded from my back. I was thrown into the air and slammed hard into the ground. The pup in my arms was completely unharmed, lying obediently against me. My consciousness began to blur. The last thing I saw was James, having dealt with the rogue, looking down tenderly and anxiously comforting Grace. I felt a kind of sorrow. Not just for James’s neglect of me. But because, as the Alpha’s son, he was so indifferent to the Pack’s pups. Would someone like him become a better Alpha than his father?

Stella POV When I woke up, I was lying in the Pack’s infirmary. My left arm was covered in thick ointment. “Stella, you’re awake!” Brian’s haggard face appeared before me. “Brian…” As soon as I spoke, I realized how painfully dry my throat was. Brian quickly helped me sit up and handed me a glass of warm water. “The healer said your arm wound is very deep, you have a broken bone, and there’s residual toxin. You’ll need treatment for a while.” His voice was hoarse, full of self-blame. “It’s all my fault. If I’d been faster…” “It’s not your fault.” I interrupted him. I remembered very clearly. This was James’s choice. That was the real source of my injury. In the face of danger, as the Pack’s Alpha heir, he hadn’t prioritized saving those pups. What a failure. “Are the pups okay?” I asked. Brian’s expression instantly darkened, his fists clenching at his sides. “Don’t even mention it!” I immediately tensed. “Were they hurt?” I loved the pups. Being with them made me feel relaxed. Actually, the Pack’s pups should be cared for by the Luna. But the current Alpha was a madman. After his mate died, he refused to let anyone take that position. Fortunately, I had some experience caring for the little ones. He ground his teeth. “No, they’re all fine. I mean James. You protected those pups. You should be praised. But that bastard didn’t even look at you and took Grace back to her place first. He didn’t say a single word to the Alpha about what you did.” I fought hard to keep my tears from falling. Fine. The more cruel he was, the cleaner my break would be. I stayed in the infirmary for three days. James never showed up once. It wasn’t until the fourth afternoon that the door finally opened. James walked in. “You’re awake?” His tone was as casual as if greeting an ordinary friend. I ignored him. He didn’t care and continued on his own. “Grace has been terrified these past few days. She kept asking about you. She’s not feeling well, so she asked me to come check on you.” So it wasn’t that he wanted to come. Grace told him to. “Let me take you outside for a walk. Get some fresh air.” James said this while directly helping me up. I didn’t resist. I wanted to see just how heartless this man could be. Behind the infirmary was a long slope. James walked with me, chatting about things from our childhood. I didn’t say a word. He suddenly stopped and looked down at me arrogantly. “Stella, what game are you playing now? Acting pitiful for sympathy?” Just then, a gentle female voice came from nearby. “James.” Grace had arrived. She wore a long dress, her face somewhat pale, looking quite pitiful. James’s eyes lit up instantly. All his attention was drawn to that figure. He pushed me aside and walked toward her. “Grace, what are you doing here? I told you to rest at home.” His voice held a tenderness I’d never heard before. But he’d forgotten something. We were standing at the top of the slope. That push made me lose my balance instantly, and I fell sideways. “James!” I cried out in alarm. However, James’s eyes and heart were completely focused on Grace. He didn’t hear my shout at all. I could only curl up my body as much as possible to reduce the impact. But when I tumbled into a clump of grass, something suddenly bit into my arm. “Ah!” The piercing pain made my vision go black. I looked closely. It was a silver spike. This seemed to be some kind of specially arranged trap. The commotion finally got their attention. James turned around. Seeing me on the ground in a pathetic state, his brows furrowed tightly. Grace covered her mouth, gasping. “Oh my God, Stella, are you okay? How did you end up here?” She hurried over, crouching down to help me with a concerned expression. “After the Pack was attacked by rogues the other day, they set up these traps around the territory. Didn’t anyone tell you? James, quick, pick Stella up and take her to get bandaged!” James stood there without moving. He looked down at me on the ground, his gaze cold. “I won’t touch any woman besides you.” I lay on the cold ground, hearing those words, and suddenly I laughed. I laughed until my whole body shook, tears streaming from my eyes. I’d loved him for two whole years. In the end, in his eyes, I was just another woman, one who would dirty his hands if he touched me.

Stella POV “James, how can you say that? Stella’s injured.” She crouched beside me, trying to help me up. “Stella, don’t blame James. He just cares about me too much.” I braced myself with my good right hand and slowly climbed up from the ground, pulling out the silver spike from my left arm. The previously healed wound tore open again, starting to burn with pain. I didn’t acknowledge Grace’s outstretched hand and didn’t spare James a single glance. I kept my head down and limped toward the infirmary on my own. As I passed him, I left him with just one sentence. “Putting dangerous things like this in places like that could easily hurt Pack members!” James was furious. “Look at her!” He said coldly to Grace. “Always like this, acting like the whole world owes her something. It was her own carelessness, and she still has to blame me?” Grace sighed softly, leaning into his embrace, her voice weak and aggrieved. “Don’t say that. It’s all my fault. She must hate me now.” James held her tighter, his chin resting on top of her head. “It has nothing to do with you. She’s the one with twisted thoughts. She deserves it.” I hadn’t gone far. Their conversation drifted into my ears, every single word. I didn’t stop walking. I just smiled. They really were a perfect match. One stupid, one cruel. When I got back to the infirmary, Brian saw my disheveled state and exploded. “What happened? Where’s James?” I calmly told him what happened. Brian’s eyes went red with rage. He was about to shift and charge out. “I’m going to kill him today!” “Brian.” I stopped him. “There’s no point.” “Fine. We won’t deal with him.” Brian took a deep breath, suppressing his anger. “Stella, I’ve finished the paperwork for going abroad. The flight is on the eighteenth of next month. Once your arm’s a bit better, we’re leaving. We’re going to Paris, far away from these terrible people.” The eighteenth of next month. I remembered. That was exactly the date of James’s ceremony. I nodded. “Okay.” For the next few days, I focused on healing. James never came again. Grace, however, kept sending food over every few days. I didn’t even look at it. Threw it all away. A week later, the wound on my arm finally healed completely, and I went home. The Pack’s pups came specifically to see me. So I took them to play in the forest. But Grace tracked me down. “Stella, I’m so glad to see you’ve recovered well. That puts my mind at ease.” I couldn’t be bothered with her. Grace didn’t mind and kept talking. “You know what? For our mate ceremony, James had tons of roses flown in. He said he wants to give me the most spectacular ceremony the Pack has ever seen.” I still didn’t respond. I knew about those roses. They cost a fortune. I guessed James had diverted some funds from the Pack’s accounts. This would mess up the Pack’s cash flow, but no one cared. The Alpha didn’t care. James didn’t care either. Grace was losing her patience. She leaned forward slightly and lowered her voice. “Stella, stop pretending. I know you’re not willing to accept this. You followed him around for two years, and in the end, the future Luna position is mine. I’d go crazy too if I were you.” I glanced at her. “Are you done? Then get lost.” Grace’s smile vanished completely. “You!” She bit her lip, then smiled again. “Stella, do you think you’re so noble? You think your love is some precious thing? Let me tell you. In James’s eyes, your two years of pestering disgust him more than wolf shit on the side of the road.” She stood up, looking down at me from above, her eyes full of a victor’s smugness and contempt. “You’ll never win against me. Because you’re too weak. James could never love you.” With that, she turned around, swaying her hips as she prepared to leave. The place where we were playing had a pond. In summer, I’d bring the kids here to swim. Well, they swam. I couldn’t swim at all and could never learn. I was hopeless in water. Grace walked to the pond’s edge and gave me a strange smile. Then her body tilted backward, and she fell straight into the pond behind her. “Help! Stella, why did you push me!” Grace flailed in the water, screaming for help. I didn’t react in time. “I didn’t…” Just then, a tall figure rushed out.

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Three years after my death, my sister Daisy was finally marrying my boyfriend, Jason. My mom, for Daisy’s sake, had kept my death a secret from Jason for three long years. The day before the wedding. Jason received a commission for an estate clearing service. Daisy reminded him to come back early. But she didn’t know, this order, it was placed by me, three years ago. “Jason, does this wedding dress look good?” Jason, sitting on the couch, gazed at the wedding dress, lost in thought. He unconsciously murmured, “Anne?” Daisy froze for a moment, then asked, “What did you say?” Jason snapped back to reality, giving her a faint smile. “Yeah, it looks good.” Daisy turned away, her expression immediately turning sinister. She clutched the brand-new wedding dress, wrinkling it. “Anne, even after three years, he still can’t forget you. You really had a knack for it.” My mom stepped forward and patted her shoulder, signaling her to mind her image. She yanked the dressing room curtain shut and whispered, “She’s dead, why do you care about any of that? Anyway, Jason’s marrying “you” now.” I stood behind them, imagining myself in a wedding dress. This wedding, it should have been mine.

Daisy and I were half-sisters, sharing a mother but having different fathers. My mom hated my dad, and that hatred extended to me. When I found out I was sick, I once begged my mom to lend me money for treatment. But what did my mom say? “If you’re going to die, go die far away. Don’t be an eyesore.” “I wish you’d just drop dead already, you’re as shameless as your father.” She claimed she had no money for my medical care, yet Daisy just had to pout a little, and my mom immediately bought her an expensive piano that very night. When she learned I was dead, she wouldn’t even claim my body. She hired a courier to scatter my ashes in the river. Jason thought I’d run off because I didn’t want to get married, so he hated me too. “Jason, we’re getting married in a few days. Don’t you want to tell Anne?” Jason frowned, a hint of impatience on his face. “She left three years ago and never came back. Why bother looking for her?” I tried to wave at him, “No, no, Jason, I’ve always been right here beside you, always.” But he couldn’t hear me. Daisy leaned her head on Jason’s shoulder, one hand stroking her stomach, happiness radiating from her. “Thank you, Jason. I love the wedding dress, and the baby does too.” She was pregnant, and the baby was Jason’s. A wave of sadness I couldn’t suppress washed over me. He loved kids, I always knew that. He used to say he wanted me to give him a strong little man, so they could both spoil me. But now he had a child, and the one he spoiled, wasn’t me. Jason’s phone rang. He let out a sigh, gently pushed Daisy away, and answered. It was a commission for an estate clearing service. The customer service agent said the order had been placed three years ago. Jason just mumbled “Oh” and hung up. It wasn’t unusual for clients to pre-order an estate clearing for themselves. I once asked Jason why he, a computer science whiz kid, chose this profession. He said that when his mother died as a child, while organizing her belongings, he discovered those items could reveal things the eye couldn’t see. He said that an estate clearer helps the departed mark their final chapter in this world. So Jason, I chose for you to write my final period on this world too. “What’s wrong, Jason? Is it an order?” Daisy asked softly, coming closer. Jason nodded. “Yeah, a last-minute job. I can’t go to the rehearsal with you. You go ahead, I’ll be back as soon as I’m done.” Daisy was understanding. She put her purse in Jason’s hand, then kissed him lightly on the corner of his lips. “Okay, then come back early.” She didn’t know, this order, I had placed it for myself three years ago.

The unique nature of his profession meant Jason had few friends. He took only one assistant to the address for the estate clearing. He offered a silent homage at the door, put on his mask and gloves, and entered the house. I looked at the messy room, my soul trembling. Three years had passed, but the pain seemed to have not lessened at all. The assistant noticed the scratches on the door and was surprised. “Jason, these scratches on the door…” Jason knelt down to examine them. “These scratches are so deep. The deceased must have suffered inhumane treatment before death.” “Never mind. Let’s just clear out the stuff. That’s not our business.” His assistant nodded and began working. Jason looked around, found a box, opened it, and picked up a card. It read: “Happy Birthday to Myself.” I hadn’t been back here in a long time. I floated over to him and looked. When was this from? Probably when I was twelve. My parents’ divorce turned into a messy legal battle. I stood in the large courtroom, and the judge asked me, “Who do you want to live with?” My dad turned away, refusing to look at me, and my mom glared, threatening me not to choose her. I was so scared I cried. I ran over and cautiously pulled at my mom’s skirt, asking, “Mom, can I stay with you?” Ultimately, the judge honored my wish and awarded custody to my mom. She rushed off to buy Daisy a cake, leaving me alone at the courthouse entrance. That day, it was pouring rain. When I got home, my mom was softly cooing Daisy to sleep because she was afraid of thunder. But she forgot, that day was also my birthday. I picked up the cake card, licked off the leftover frosting, and wished myself “Happy Birthday” in the mirror. Such a distant memory. So distant it made my head ache to recall. Jason caressed the card, then picked up another small plushie. Underneath it was a torn diary page. Seeing that plushie, I instinctively recoiled, screaming at Jason. Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it! I stared at the plushie, my soul forced to relive that terrifying memory. I got first place in my exam, I was so happy! Mom had said whoever got first place could make one wish. I’d wanted that little plushie at the supermarket entrance for a long time. When I smiled and said I wanted it, she crumpled my test paper and threw it in the trash. My mom’s eyes were icy: “Daisy improved a lot this test. That one’s already bought for her. Maybe next time.” I turned to see Daisy smugly twirling the plushie at me. For the first time, I couldn’t hold it in and ran outside. My mom’s furious voice followed me: “Get out and don’t come back!” I cried my heart out. Lance, the supermarket owner, asked me what was wrong. He told me to go to the back room and pick one. Oh God! The back room of that store was a devil’s lair. He pinned me down and brutally violated me. I cried and screamed, but he wouldn’t let go. When I finally managed to run out, I tore that plushie to shreds. Do you believe that a soul can cry? I stood before Jason, watching him frown as he read that diary page. Tears streamed down, passing through the diary page and landing on Jason’s hand. “Phew—” Milo heard Jason sigh and turned to ask him, “Jason, what’s wrong?” Jason thought for a moment, then spoke, disbelievingly, “She… she seems… to have been assaulted.” Jason continued to pick up the remaining diary pages. “My sister brought many people to beat me. I was so scared. She said I deserved it.” “My sister told Mom I was messing around instead of studying. Mom called me shameless, but that was actually her boyfriend.” “Mom got a new boyfriend. I was taking a nap when he came in and touched me inappropriately, but Mom called me a slut and said I was trying to seduce men at such a young age.” Jason’s hands trembled as he held the diary. Several times, he had to take deep breaths to suppress his emotions. He continued to go through my past, despite his discomfort. When he picked up the next item, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

A diagnosis for severe depression, with my name on it. The moment Jason saw my name, his eyes widened in shock. His hand trembled uncontrollably, failing to pick it up several times. “Milo, come here, look. Am I… seeing things?” His assistant, Milo, heard him and put down what he was holding, coming over. “Anne? How could it be…?” He was equally disbelieving. Jason quickly pulled out his phone and asked his office for the order’s contact number. Only when they read out a number he knew like the back of his hand did he confirm that the person was me. Jason, you finally found out. I didn’t abandon you and run. I didn’t not want to marry you. I just, died! Jason looked as if all the strength had been drained from him. He slumped to the floor, squatting. Milo tried to help him up, but he refused. He murmured, “Milo, you can go. I’ll finish the rest.” “Jason…” “Go!” Milo had no choice but to leave. I sat beside Jason, suddenly remembering that summer we sat like this on the school field. I was quiet, and so was Jason. When two reserved people were together, most of the time was spent lost in thought and silence. Our teacher said we were a perfect match, always in sync. That was the first time Jason ever smiled at me. “You’re amazing!” I replied, “You are too.” There were no epic romances between us, but in all our important moments, we chose to be by each other’s side. Jason buried his head between his knees, and I began to hear choked sobs. “Why? Why? Why did this happen?” I floated beside him and gently stroked his head. “Jason, don’t cry. It breaks my heart.” Jason’s profession wasn’t very popular, so his studio had always struggled. When I found out I was sick, I placed an order for myself. It wouldn’t do much, but I still wanted to boost his business a bit. I had never seen Jason cry like this before. Half an hour later, he composed himself, stood up, and continued to look through the items. Jason locked himself in the house for two full days. He spent those two days coming to terms with the fact that I was dead. Jason, pale-faced, was curled up on the floor when his phone buzzed. “Hello? Jason, where are you?” Hearing Daisy’s anxious voice on the phone, Jason’s eyes suddenly cleared. He pushed himself up from the floor, his voice icy. “I’m coming now. Wait for me.” Jason left the rental with my pile of belongings. He held the box with one hand, constantly stroking it with the other, mumbling as he walked, “Anne, they owe you, and I’ll make sure they pay.” I sighed, trailing behind Jason. I was already dead, what was there left to settle? You were the only one I couldn’t let go of, Jason. Perhaps, that’s why I always lingered by his side. Tomorrow was Jason’s wedding. Daisy wrapped her arms around Jason’s neck, trying to kiss him. “Jason, I’m so happy, so incredibly blessed.” Whether intentional or not, Jason avoided her kiss. He gently pushed her away, using the excuse that he had a busy day tomorrow, and went to bed. Daisy frowned, thinking he was just tired, so she didn’t dwell on it. It was true they had to get up early tomorrow, so she lay down on her side and went to sleep. The wedding proceeded as scheduled. Jason wore his custom-made suit. I floated in front of him, gushing about how handsome he looked. When I was alive, I didn’t realize how precious it was to be able to speak. Now that I was dead, I found myself talking more. Jason picked a bracelet from my box and put it on. He said, “Anne, this way, it’s like we’re married, okay?” I turned my face away. “Who wants to marry you, Jason? You haven’t even proposed to me yet!” But why did my face feel warm? Daisy wore a loose-fitting wedding dress; she looked beautiful. My mom escorted her to the altar. Jason lingered, and the officiant started to look anxious before he finally forced a smile and stepped forward to take Daisy’s hand. Daisy was so nervous she almost shed tears. The officiant asked, “Do you take this woman, Daisy, to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Jason suddenly looked in my direction. He slowly said, “I don’t.” The entire venue fell silent instantly. Even I was startled. Daisy’s hand, gripping Jason’s, began to tremble. “Jason… you…” But Jason suddenly smirked. “Just kidding. I do.” He said “I do,” but for some reason, I saw coldness in his smile. After the wedding, Jason got completely drunk. On their wedding night, Daisy slept alone. Not only that, the next day, rumors even spread that Jason had slept with one of the bridesmaids. I was always with Jason, so I knew best: he was just drunk and slept at a hotel for the night. But Daisy didn’t believe it. She angrily confronted her bridesmaid and, without a word, slapped her. “I made you my bridesmaid, and you? You tried to seduce my husband, didn’t you?” Her friend was stunned by the slap. “I didn’t! What are you talking about?” Daisy didn’t want to hear her explanations. She took another step forward, about to slap her again, but this time, someone grabbed her arm. Daisy looked at Jason in disbelief. Her husband, who should have been home, was here, helping another woman. “What in the world are you doing, going crazy here?” Daisy saw the coldness in Jason’s eyes; she couldn’t quite believe it. “Jason, where were you last night? Were you with this slut?” Jason flung Daisy’s arm away, nearly sending her to the ground. “Don’t act like a lunatic here. Go home.” Before Daisy could react, Jason turned and walked away. It was the first time Daisy had ever been abandoned like that. That day, just like the day I was abandoned, it was pouring rain. I sat in Jason’s passenger seat, watching him with a strange amusement. “Thank you, Jason. I know you’re getting revenge for me.” Jason suddenly turned his head in my direction, a faint smile playing on his lips. “Anne, are you feeling a little better now?” I was stunned. Could he see me? I waved my hand in front of him, but he just slowly rolled up the car window. Oh, he was just looking outside. You scared me! From that day on, Jason was no longer gentle with Daisy. He started drinking heavily, smoking, giving Daisy the silent treatment, and sometimes even hitting her. He wanted Daisy to experience my pain, but Jason, you shouldn’t be like this. You shouldn’t fall apart because of me. At first, Daisy thought she had upset Jason in some way, so she tried to please him, enduring everything. But gradually, she sensed something was wrong. It wasn’t until Jason, once drunk, called out my name in his sleep that she finally understood. Jason still couldn’t let me go. She saw Jason constantly staring at that box. While he was asleep, she opened it. As she looked at the contents, Jason stood behind her, staring at her with an eerie intensity. “Put those things down!” Daisy was startled, and with a clatter, the items fell to the floor, scattering everywhere.

“Jason, how did you wake up?” Jason looked at the scattered items on the floor, his fists clenching. “Who told you to touch those things?” Daisy suddenly panicked. She rushed to hug Jason. “Jason, listen to me…” Jason, his eyes red, violently pushed Daisy to the ground. Daisy’s stomach hit the corner of the table. It took her a while to recover, a thin layer of sweat breaking out on her forehead. Jason had lost all reason. I wanted to stop him, but I couldn’t. I could only watch helplessly. Jason advanced, grabbing Daisy by the throat, and snarled, “Why? Why did you all hide it from me? She’s been dead for three years, three years! I thought… I thought…” Daisy was being choked, her eyes starting to roll back. Beneath her white nightgown, a crimson stain began to spread. I floated up and down frantically. “Ring, ring!” Daisy’s phone ringing brought Jason back to his senses. But he just calmly walked away, picking up a towel to wipe his hands. Daisy crawled to her phone and called 911. When my mom arrived, Daisy was already unconscious. She had lost the baby. My mom slapped Jason. “How could you let this happen to Daisy? She’s so afraid of pain! What did you do to her?” My heart ached for the red half of Jason’s face where she’d hit him. My mom had a heavy hand, I knew that. My face would often be swollen and red for hours after she hit me. Jason didn’t turn around. He let out a soft laugh. “Your slaps, they really hurt.” My mom frowned at him. “Jason, look at me. I’m your mother. Are you cursed? You’ve been acting so strange lately.” “The ones who are cursed, that would be you.” Jason said, seemingly out of nowhere. Jason didn’t want to stay there any longer. He turned and strode away. I wanted to follow him, but for some reason, I wanted to see if my mom would feel heartbroken for her eldest daughter. Daisy woke up, and my mom brought her a glass of water, gently moistening her lips little by little. I suddenly wanted to laugh. So, she knew to give water to someone who’s thirsty. Daisy always had milk to drink; I never did. One year, I had a fever of 104 degrees, and my lips were so dry they felt like they were on fire. I saw less than half a glass of milk left on the table and couldn’t resist secretly taking a sip. My mom came out, saw me, and started violently kicking me. “Who told you to drink that? What will Daisy drink if you finish it? So young and already stealing things, you ungrateful brat.” Stealing? Mom, I never understood. Just a sip of milk. How much did you truly hate me? “Mom, my baby, my baby!” Daisy cried out, throwing herself into my mom’s arms in pain. My mom patted her back, just like she used to comfort her when she was scared as a child. Daisy sobbed, “Mom, Jason… he seems to know Anne is dead. What do we do? Will he never want to come home again?” My mom’s hand, holding the water, paused. She seemed a little nervous. “He just knows she’s dead? What about the other things?” Daisy shook her head. “He doesn’t seem to have discovered anything else.” My mom sighed in relief. “That’s good, that’s good.” What “other things” was Daisy referring to? I imagine, it must be the truth about my death. “It’s all that slut’s fault, even dead, she still comes back to ruin my family!” Daisy gnashed her teeth, cursing me, wishing she could pulverize me to dust. My mom said she’d hire a spiritual master another day to suppress my spirit, so I wouldn’t haunt them. But I hadn’t done anything, had I? I couldn’t stand to watch their mother-daughter bonding, so I turned and floated away. If you didn’t love me, why did you give birth to me?

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After my sister came back from her fiancé’s place, we went out for a steak dinner. She wasn’t just devouring arugula, something she’d never dared to touch before, but she was also dipping her food into a generous bowl of cashew cream sauce. But she’s severely allergic to cashews; one bite and she could go into anaphylactic shock and end up in the emergency room! I forced down the rising panic in my chest and cautiously clinked my beer glass against hers, tapping the bottom twice with my finger. She didn’t react at all, just smiled and chugged her beer. In that moment, an icy dread washed over me. The woman sitting across from me, wearing my sister’s face, wasn’t Eleanor at all! So, where was the real Eleanor? The sizzling steak platter steamed, its white smoke blurring the view of the person across from me. This old-school steakhouse was our absolute favorite. It had been days since I’d seen my sister, Eleanor, as she’d been at her fiancé Ethan’s house for the past week, discussing their wedding plans. Today, the moment she returned, I couldn’t wait to drag her here for a treat. “Lily, what are you spacing out for? The steak’s getting cold.” The woman across from me chided playfully, expertly using a fork to cut a piece of steak and dip it into her sauce bowl. My gaze was fixed on her dipping sauce bowl, my brain freezing for a split second, all the blood in my veins turning to ice. Her dipping sauce bowl had a thick layer of arugula, generously drizzled with rich cashew cream sauce. She picked up that piece of steak, coated in cashew cream and arugula, and without a moment’s hesitation, popped it into her mouth, chewing heartily, a satisfied expression on her face. “This place still tastes so authentic,” she mumbled. My hand, resting under the table, began to tremble uncontrollably. Eleanor had always detested the smell of arugula since she was a kid, saying it smelled like soap. Even more critically, she was severely allergic to cashews! Once, when she was little, she accidentally ate a cookie with cashew crumbs, and within five minutes, she broke out in hives, struggled to breathe, and nearly went into shock. She spent an entire night fighting for her life in the emergency room that time. Ever since, the word “cashew” had been an absolute taboo in our family. But now, this “Eleanor” sitting across from me wasn’t just eating arugula, but a huge mouthful of cashew cream sauce too! And she wasn’t showing any allergic reaction. No hives, no wheezing; her face was rosy, and she was laughing and chatting animatedly. “Ellie…” I heard my voice come out raspy, like sandpaper. “You… you can’t eat cashews, can you?” The hand holding her fork paused briefly, a flicker of almost imperceptible panic in her eyes, but it was quickly masked by a perfect smile. “Oh, did you forget? I went to see that doctor, remember? He gave me some treatments to balance my system. A few days ago, at Ethan’s place, his mom didn’t know about my allergy and made cashew brittle. I tried a bite and realized I was fine. Guess I got desensitized.” As she spoke, she picked up another piece of steak with her fork. “Besides, arugula used to taste awful, but now it suddenly smells quite good. People’s tastes change, you know.” Desensitized? Such a severe, life-threatening allergy, cured by a few treatments? That’s a complete farce! I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to flip the table, took a deep breath, and picked up my beer glass. “Oh, I see. That’s fantastic! Now we can eat so many more things together. Come on, Ellie, let’s toast.” I held out my glass. She smiled, picked up her glass, and clinked it against mine. Clink. A crisp sound. I stared intently at her hand. Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Eleanor and I had a secret ritual we’d had since we were kids. Because we grew up together in the orphanage, whenever we got a delicious bowl of soup, we would always gently tap the bottom of our bowls twice with our fingers when we clinked them. This habit continued to this day. Whenever it was just the two of us toasting, whether with water or alcohol, we’d always tap the bottom of our glasses twice. It was our private code, known only to us, not even to Robert, Sarah, or Ethan. But just now, she had simply clinked her glass normally, then tilted her head back and took a big gulp. I gripped the cold glass, my knuckles turning white from the force. My heart hammered so fast it felt like it would burst through my chest. The exact same appearance, the exact same voice, even the same style of dress and tone of speaking. But, she wasn’t Eleanor. Absolutely not! So where was the real Eleanor? And who was this monster wearing my sister’s skin?

That steak dinner tasted like ash in my mouth. I fought desperately to suppress my inner fear and nausea, pretending to chat with her as if nothing was wrong. I couldn’t alert her to my suspicions. If she wasn’t Eleanor, then Eleanor’s situation must be extremely dangerous, perhaps even… I didn’t dare to imagine. We finished dinner and got home; it was already nine in the evening. Pushing open the door, the living room was filled with warm light. My adoptive father, Robert Davis, sat on the sofa watching the news, and my adoptive mother, Sarah Davis, was in the kitchen cutting fruit. Twenty years ago, they adopted Eleanor and me together from the orphanage. They had no children of their own, and over the years, they treated us like their own, supported our education, bought us pretty clothes, and gave us a complete home. In my heart, they were my real parents. “Hey, we’re home.” I changed my shoes, trying to make my voice sound normal. “You’re back? Was the steak good? You smell like it, go wash up quickly.” Sarah Davis came out with a fruit platter, smiling kindly. The “Eleanor” naturally walked over, linked her arm through Sarah Davis’s, and cooed, “I’m stuffed! Lily just had to order so much steak.” “You silly girl, you’re about to wear a wedding dress, yet you still can’t control yourself,” Sarah Davis said, dotingly tapping her forehead. Robert Davis also put down the remote control, smiling as he looked at us. The scene was so warm, so normal. But I felt a chill run down my spine. I took a deep breath and walked over to sit on the sofa. “Something really strange happened,” I began, feigning casualness. “Today at dinner, Ellie actually ate cashew cream, and she was totally fine.” The air in the living room seemed to freeze instantly. Only the news anchor’s voice echoed from the TV. I stared intently at Robert and Sarah’s faces, not missing a single subtle change in their expressions. Sarah Davis’s hand, cutting an apple, paused for a moment, the knife blade clinking against the glass plate. Robert Davis’s smile also stiffened for a second. But soon, Sarah Davis regained her composure. She popped a piece of apple into “Eleanor’s” mouth, then turned to me, smiling. “Oh, that’s what you’re fussing about. Didn’t your sister take those treatments a while back? That doctor I took her to see was amazing; he said he could cure allergies. Looks like it really worked.” Robert Davis nodded in agreement. “That’s right, Lily, you’re just making a big deal out of nothing. Your sister is getting married soon, it’s good that her health is better.” My heart plummeted into a bottomless pit. They were lying. Eleanor had never gone to see any doctor! Her allergy was caused by a genetic defect and was fundamentally incurable; top specialists at the hospital said so years ago, and Robert and Sarah were there! Why were they helping this imposter cover up the lie? Could it be… A chilling thought exploded in my mind, making my scalp tingle. Could Robert and Sarah also know she isn’t Eleanor? And worse, what if they’re in on it?! Suddenly, this home I’d lived in for twenty years felt utterly strange and terrifying. The air around me felt like thick, viscous swamp water, choking me. “Maybe I’m overthinking it. I’ll just go wash up.” I abruptly stood up, lowered my head, and quickly walked to my bedroom. I closed the door and locked it. Leaning against the door, my legs gave out, and I slid straight to the floor. Cold sweat drenched my back. I was completely alone. In this house, everyone but me was a monster. Where was the real Eleanor? Had she already… No, she couldn’t be! Eleanor is so smart; if she sensed danger, she would definitely leave me a clue! I had to calm down. I couldn’t panic; Eleanor was waiting for me to save her.

I got up from the floor, not even daring to turn on the light. Using the moonlight from the window, I frantically searched my room. Eleanor and I had separate rooms, but we shared many things. If she wanted to leave me a message, where would she put it? Her phone? Impossible; the imposter must have control of it already. A diary? Too obvious. My eyes landed on an old metal box tucked away on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. It was the sketchbook we used together in high school. I’m a freelance illustrator, and although Eleanor didn’t pursue that path, she used to love doodling all over my sketchbooks. We had made a pact that if one day either of us encountered a problem we couldn’t voice, we would draw a distress signal on the last page of the sketchbook. My hands trembling, I pulled out the metal box and opened it. Inside, the faded, yellowed sketchbook lay quietly. I flipped to the last page. In the faint moonlight, I saw a simple drawing made with a black carbon pencil. It was drawn hastily, the lines a bit messy. It was a huge Ferris wheel, and beneath the Ferris wheel, a crooked cross was drawn. A Ferris wheel… My mind raced. There was only one place in our city with a Ferris wheel: the abandoned amusement park on the outskirts! And right next to that amusement park was Sunnyvale Orphanage, where we were adopted! The orphanage had been demolished years ago; now it was just a patch of overgrown land, usually deserted. A cross… did it mean death, or something buried? Eleanor wanted me to go there! She had left a clue, or herself, there! I checked the time on my phone: 11:30 PM. Going out now was too dangerous. If I alerted those three outside, I might not even make it out the door. I needed help. I opened Snapchat and found Ethan’s profile. Ethan was Eleanor’s fiancé; they had known each other since college, and their relationship had always been strong. If there was anyone else in this world who cared about Eleanor as much as I did, it was him. But I dared not be too explicit in my message; what if his phone was being monitored too? I deliberated, then sent a message: [Ethan, Ellie ate cashew cream at dinner today and didn’t react at all. I think she’s been acting weird lately. Please keep an eye on her.] After sending the message, I put my phone on silent, lay down in bed with my clothes on, staring at the ceiling, and didn’t sleep a wink all night. The next morning, I heard the sound of the front door closing. Robert and Sarah Davis had gone to the morning market to buy groceries. The imposter said she was going to try on wedding dresses and also left. This was my chance! I immediately jumped out of bed, threw on a jacket, grabbed my backpack, and rushed out the door. In the taxi, I received a reply from Ethan. Just a few short words, but they brought tears to my eyes. [I think she’s acting strange too. Where are you?] I immediately sent him the address of the abandoned amusement park, adding: [Don’t tell anyone. Come alone.] The taxi stopped in front of the overgrown land on the outskirts of the city. The amusement park, once filled with laughter, was now just a pile of rusted scrap metal. The giant Ferris wheel stood silently among the weeds, like a dead steel beast. I took a deep breath and trudged towards the Ferris wheel, pushing through knee-high dried grass. A deathly silence hung in the air, broken only by the rustling of the wind through the tall grass. I reached the base of the Ferris wheel and began searching the surrounding area for the “cross” mark. After about fifteen minutes of searching, at the bottom of a thick, rusted iron pillar, I saw a patch of earth that looked like it had been recently disturbed. On the soil, two tree branches were crossed, forming a cross shape. This was it! I knelt on the ground, disregarding the dirt, and frantically began to dig with my bare hands. The soil was very loose, clearly having been buried recently. After digging about six inches deep, my fingers brushed against something hard. It was a sealed plastic bag. I yanked it out, hastily wiping off the dirt. Inside the bag were a USB drive and an old black and white photograph. My hands trembling, I took out the photo. It showed a young couple holding a little girl, perhaps a year old. Although it was an old photo, I recognized at a glance that the couple was none other than a younger Robert and Sarah Davis! And the little girl’s eyes and features were identical to Eleanor’s — or rather, to the imposter’s! On the back of the photo, written in blue ink, was a single line: [Vivian’s First Birthday.] Vivian? Vivian Davis? My mind buzzed, as if a bolt of lightning had suddenly cleared all the fog. Robert and Sarah Davis actually had a biological daughter! And this biological daughter looked exactly like Eleanor! No, that’s not right. Eleanor looked like her! When they went to the orphanage to adopt children, it wasn’t out of kindness at all, but because Eleanor resembled their lost biological daughter! So the imposter in our house now… was Vivian! She was back! She had replaced Eleanor! Just as I was reeling in disbelief, I heard an extremely faint rustling of footsteps behind me. “Rustle… rustle…” The sound of dry grass being trampled was amplified infinitely in the dead silence of the wilderness. I spun around. Robert Davis stood less than five yards behind me, holding a rusted shovel, his face expressionless. His eyes were as cold as if he was looking at a corpse.

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Just as I finalized the three-hundred-million-dollar M&A deal, I heard Charlotte tell her assistant, Sarah, from outside my office: “Tomorrow’s presentation? Change the lead for the M&A project to Michael.” My hand, poised to open the door, froze. Sarah hesitated, “But Richard has been crunching data all night for the past two weeks, and clients are specifically coming for him…” Charlotte didn’t miss a beat, her tone dismissive: “Michael just graduated; he needs to build his network and establish himself in the industry. Richard is already the boss; what’s the use of these empty titles?” “Once this commission comes through, I’ll buy him that race car. It’ll be his compensation.” The next day, at the big meeting, Charlotte pressed my hand, explaining, “Let Michael take credit for this one. I’ll privately transfer your compensation later.” I pulled my hand away, listening in silence through the entire presentation. Seven years of marriage, and all I got was her using my hard work and dedication to pave someone else’s way. That race car and the boss’s position? Whoever wants them can have them. I’m done with this.

The presentation had just ended. Mr. Stevenson, the partner’s representative, looked at the slightly green Michael on stage, a slight frown on his face. “Ms. Charlotte, Mr. Richard has been our primary contact for the past two weeks. Why has the lead for this proposal changed to… this gentleman today?” Charlotte didn’t bat an eye, explaining with a polite smile: “Michael certainly did create this proposal. He’s just graduated, but he’s full of fresh ideas.” “Of course, Richard supervised the entire process, ensuring everything was perfect, which is why he was your initial contact.” “As long as you’re satisfied with the proposal, who gets the credit shouldn’t really affect our deep partnership.” Mr. Stevenson listened, his confusion only partially resolved, but he nodded approvingly: “I see. Young talent indeed has potential. The proposal is very solid; we are extremely satisfied.” The contract was signed smoothly. People in the conference room gradually dispersed, leaving only Charlotte and me. I stopped what I was doing, asking in a calm voice, “Why didn’t you discuss any of that with me beforehand?” For this three-hundred-million-dollar deal, I’d slept only three hours a night for fifteen consecutive days. Those model codes, I refined them countless times to ensure there were no errors. Now, all that credit went to a newbie who hadn’t done a single thing. Charlotte rubbed her temples, seemingly annoyed by my questioning. “Richard, Michael just graduated. He needs a high-profile start to build his network and get a foothold in the industry.” “In that situation, we couldn’t exactly correct him in front of everyone and make the partner suspicious, could we? We had no choice but to play along.” It was the same old excuse. I looked at her matter-of-fact expression and didn’t argue further. I had only wanted to see her attitude, and now I knew. Seeing my silence, Charlotte noticed my uncharacteristic quietness. She softened her voice: “Alright, don’t be mad. Once this commission comes through, I’ll buy you that race car you’ve been talking about for ages.” “Consider it compensation, okay?” I glanced at her, silently gathered my files, and turned back to my desk. She watched my retreating back, seemingly convinced that the race car had successfully appeased me. Soon after I sat down, Michael approached my desk with a cup of coffee. He put on an innocent, wronged expression, “Richard, I’m so sorry… I honestly didn’t know admin would mess up the name.” “I was so nervous earlier. Should I go explain everything to Mr. Stevenson? I can’t take your credit…” I stared at my computer screen, not sparing him a single glance. Seeing me ignore him, Michael bit his lip, his voice suddenly a little louder, tinged with a sniffle: “Richard, are you mad at me…?” The commotion was perfectly audible to Charlotte, who had just walked out of her office. She strode over quickly, her brows furrowed as she looked at me. “Richard, Michael has apologized to you. Why are you still scowling?” “As a senior, it’s only right for you to pave the way for a junior. Don’t be so petty. Anyway, I’ll give you the full commission from this deal.” Watching her defend another man so fiercely, I found it laughable. For the past seven years, no matter how difficult the opponent, she had always stood by me. We were partners, fully invested, with everything to gain or lose together, and a loving married couple. But now, for Michael, she judged me as “petty” and “narrow-minded.” Since she had said so, there was no need for me to argue anymore.

I looked up and calmly spoke, echoing Charlotte’s words: “Fine, I forgive him.” Charlotte’s expression softened, and she led Michael back to her office. After work, I went straight to HR and handed in my resignation. The HR Director was stunned: “Mr. Richard, what are you doing?” “Just process it,” I said calmly. “But your position is so crucial! Handoff will take at least three days, and Ms. Charlotte needs to be notified first!” “Charlotte already knows about this. There’s no need to inform her again. Someone will take over my position in three days.” With that, I turned and left. I held absolute controlling power in this company. If I said someone would take over in three days, then someone certainly would. Leaving the company, I drove to the racetrack in the hills. My chest felt tight and heavy; I desperately needed a high-speed thrill to vent my emotions. Because I loved racing, Charlotte had invested a lot of the company’s money into this track back then, and I was a VIP here. As I entered the lobby, the receptionist saw me, and her composure visibly faltered. She stammered, blocking my path, “Mr. Richard, I’m so sorry, but the track is undergoing maintenance today and isn’t open to the public…” I saw her evasive eyes and had a hunch. I probed, “Is Charlotte inside?” The receptionist’s eyes widened suddenly, and she blurted out in surprise, “You… you knew?” Sure enough, I ignored her attempts to stop me and walked directly into the inner track area. As soon as I pushed open the door, the roar of engines reached me. A red Aston Martin was parked at the starting line, its window rolled down. I stood not far away, clearly seeing Charlotte in the passenger seat. Half her body was leaned over, her hands guiding Michael’s hands, teaching him how to use the clutch, how to turn the steering wheel, and where to place his feet. They were very close, their posture intimately casual. Watching this scene, memories suddenly stung my nerves. I used to be obsessed with racing. Back then, Charlotte was still very young, and she’d wait for me at the finish line with a bouquet of sunflowers after every race. At the time, I didn’t want to hold her back and refused her many times. But she persisted; she was at almost every one of my races. Until one time, I had an accident on the winding track, and the car rolled and caught fire. I was trapped in the deformed driver’s seat. It was Charlotte who tore at the car door with her bare hands. When I was rescued, I saw her hands covered in blood and scalding blisters. Later, we got together. With her, I found a desire for a normal life and the motivation to make money. Even though my family had more money than we could ever spend, I chose to strike out on my own. Back then, I was the one in the passenger seat, holding her hand and slowly teaching her how to race. Now, she was doing the opposite, teaching another man in the exact same intimate way. It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over me; I suddenly lost all desire for racing. Charlotte heard the movement and turned around. The moment she saw me, a clear flicker of panic crossed her eyes. But Michael, sitting in the driver’s seat, had an undisguised look of triumph in his eyes. I took one look, then turned and walked away.

Charlotte hastily pushed open the car door and chased after me, grabbing my arm. “Richard, don’t misunderstand! Didn’t I say I was going to buy you a race car? I came specifically to test drive it today, to try out the feel!” Before I could speak, Michael also walked over, smiling innocently: “Richard, I heard Charlotte talking about buying a car, and I’m really interested in racing, so I wanted to learn a bit.” “Charlotte thought I had some credit in this contract too, so she planned to buy me one as well, and teach me while she was at it.” I looked at them and couldn’t help but let out a sarcastic laugh. “What does this contract have to do with you? What exactly is your credit?” I didn’t hold back. Michael’s face paled, and he looked at Charlotte, wronged. I couldn’t stand to watch their charade, so I shook off Charlotte’s hand and continued to walk out. Charlotte panicked, just about to chase me again, when Michael’s pained voice came from behind her: “Charlotte, I think I sprained my ankle, it hurts so bad…” Charlotte’s steps stopped abruptly. When I got home, the house was dark. After showering, I lay in bed and casually scrolled through Twitter. The first post was a recent update from Michael. The caption: [Thanks to the boss for the reward of a race car, hands-on lessons, even the wind tastes sweet.] Below it was a picture, a selfie of the two of them in racing suits, sitting in the car. After muting Twitter, I opened my phone and sent the drafted divorce agreement to Charlotte. Half an hour passed. No reply. It seemed my messages had completely lost their value to her. This seven-year marriage, through her silent treatment and outright disregard, had completely lost the need for communication. I put down my phone, turned off the light, and went to sleep. The next morning, I was woken by an urgent phone call. I answered, and Sarah’s voice was anxious: “Richard, you need to get to the office right away, something’s happened!” The call disconnected, and I threw off the covers. My gaze swept over the spot beside me; the bed was neatly made and cold, with no sign of being slept in. Meaning, Charlotte hadn’t come home all night. Even in the dull period of our marriage, when we occasionally worked late on different projects, we would silently avoid disturbing each other’s sleep when we came home at night. But we both knew the other had returned home. Now, she wasn’t even coming home. I didn’t dwell on it for long. I got dressed and headed straight for the company. When I arrived at the office, I found out it was an old client I had been managing, who came to discuss a follow-up partnership. Michael had handled the negotiation privately and messed up the deal. Now the client was furious and demanded we fix it immediately. Hearing this news, my head pounded. Drawing on my deep understanding of the project, I immediately organized the work, and we went back and forth on the details during a video conference with the client. Only after finally getting the client to relent and resolving the first crisis did I have a moment to spare. I walked to the office area, looking at Michael sitting at his desk, and asked in a cold voice: “Who gave you permission to privately handle my client?”

Michael flinched, stood up, his eyes red and brimming with tears, utterly wronged. “I’m so sorry, Richard… I just wanted to do more for the company. I really didn’t mean to…” Seeing a man in his twenties respond to a crisis by simply whimpering and crying, I couldn’t stand it. Charlotte’s taste had apparently deteriorated to this extent. Charlotte, having heard the news, rushed over and immediately came to his defense: “Richard, don’t blame Michael. I gave him permission to take on this task.” “He needs experience, and I gave him the client to practice with. Do you really need to scold him in front of so many people?” At that, a bitter laugh escaped me, and I reprimanded her mercilessly: “Charlotte, do you completely disregard my clients, and the company’s reputation as well?” Charlotte froze for a moment. Normally at the company, I gave her all the decision-making power. No matter how outlandish her decisions, I would always cover for her privately and ensured she maintained her authority as CEO publicly. She hadn’t expected me to blame her so mercilessly in front of so many employees. “Richard, watch your tone! I’m the CEO!” she warned in a low voice. “You know about ‘tone’?” I retorted, my voice exceptionally clear in the quiet office area. “With everyone in the company watching, you’re openly favoring him?” Charlotte was instantly speechless, her face turning green then pale. I didn’t stop, staring into her eyes and continuing: “You put his name on the proposal I stayed up all night to create, claiming he did it.” “You’re taking the client relationships I worked so hard to build and letting him practice, just to ruin them.” “Are you planning to train him to be the next company boss, or the next husband?” At that, colleagues bowed their heads, not daring to breathe. Charlotte’s eyes widened: “Richard! How can you say that?!” Seeing her composure crumbling, and our seven years of relationship reaching this point, I couldn’t even bother to feel angry anymore. All my disappointment had been spent; only clarity and indifference remained. I adjusted my cuff, my voice returning to complete calm. “That’s enough. We’re getting a divorce. I sent you the divorce agreement last night.” “Since you don’t like checking messages, I’ll tell you clearly to your face today.” Charlotte stood rigid, her face filled with disbelief. I glanced at Michael, then calmly added the last sentence: “Oh, and someone will be taking over this company tomorrow. You and he should both prepare to pack your things and leave.”

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