Author: Momo Chan

1 When I was eight years old, I made a deal with a demon. I traded away my own lifespan to save my sister, who was dying of leukemia. But nobody knew. My parents always told me that Vivian’s days on earth were numbered. They told me I had to love her, protect her, and make sure she lived without a single regret. “Hope, Vivian loves both of these plushies. Just let her have them. Dad will buy you something else next time.” “Hope, Vivian… she really likes William too. Can you just… step aside for her?” “Hope, your sister is literally dying. Why are you still fighting with her?” Toys. My parents’ affection. The love of my life. I surrendered everything to Vivian for my entire life. They always told me I had plenty of time left. They promised that after Vivian passed away, they would spend the rest of their lives making it up to me. But I did not have much time left either. At the age of thirty-two, my sister passed away on her hospital bed with a peaceful smile on her face. She left this world with zero regrets. At that exact same moment, huddled on a freezing bench in the corner of the hospital courtyard, my breathing quietly came to a stop. “…William, Vivian’s body is rejecting the new experimental drugs. She threw up the oatmeal the second she swallowed it.” My mother’s frantic voice echoed through the phone speaker. William immediately understood. “I will be right there.” I sat at the dining table, watching him abruptly stand up and grab his winter coat. Whenever Vivian was in pain, she cried for our dad, she cried for our mom, and she cried for my boyfriend. She never cried for me. At first, when my mother wanted William to visit, she would call me to ask him. But somewhere along the line, they completely bypassed me, the useless middleman, and started contacting him directly. “Do you really have to go?” I asked softly. William paused at the front door. His tone grew heavy. “Hope, your sister is in critical condition. Try to be a little more mature about this.” Perhaps realizing his words were too harsh, his voice softened. “Just be a good girl. Once… once all of this is over, I promise I will stay by your side and make it up to you.” The front door clicked shut. I stared at the cooling dinner on the table and sat in absolute silence for a long time. Then, I pulled out my phone and tapped into a very familiar livestream channel. Vivian’s radiant, smiling face popped onto the screen. “Ta-da! Welcome to day twelve thousand and nine of Vivian kicking cancer’s butt! I ate eight meals today, but I am still starving because I threw up seven of them! Haha!” Vivian looked deathly pale, but her spirit was incredibly vibrant. She wore a knit beanie, with faint patches of thin hair peeking out from the edges. She was happily sharing her daily updates with her thousands of followers. My parents sat on either side of her, looking at her with nothing but absolute, tender devotion. The live chat was moving at lightspeed. “Keep fighting, Vivian! You are going to beat this!” “Omg, I am crying. Her parents’ love is the best medicine!” “I am fighting cancer too, and seeing your positivity every day seriously makes my pain go away.” “Wait, the whole family is on screen today. Does that mean the person holding the camera is the boyfriend?” Right on cue, Vivian looked up and reached her hand toward the camera with a brilliant smile. “Come here, William. The tripod is stable. You do not need to hold it.” William’s tall frame stepped into the frame. He indulgently offered her his hand, letting Vivian pull him into a hug and playfully shake his arm like a spoiled child. The chat exploded with hearts. “Ahhh! No wonder she is so happy today, her eyes are literally sparkling! The boyfriend is visiting!” “William is such a simp for her! He looks so professional and serious, but he lets her completely mess with him. They are totally couple goals!” Vivian’s smile deepened. Through the digital screen, our eyes met. I was watching. And she knew it. She always knew. Vivian and I were twins. But I was born perfectly healthy, screaming at the top of my lungs, while Vivian was sickly and frail, as tiny as a stray kitten. When we were barely a month old, she was diagnosed with leukemia. Unfortunately, we were fraternal twins. My bone marrow was not a match. From that day on, my parents poured every ounce of their soul and attention into Vivian. They named me Hope, meaning I was supposed to hope and pray for my sister’s survival. They named her Vivian, hoping she would be full of vibrant life. They told me my sole purpose was to pray for her health, while Vivian’s only job was to survive. I was just a babbling infant chewing on my fingers. I had no idea I was carrying such a crushing burden from the moment I took my first breath. Growing up, I had to yield to Vivian in every single aspect of life. Just like my name, I existed entirely for her sake. When relatives brought gifts for twins, they usually bought two identical toys to prevent fighting. But my parents always bought two different ones and let Vivian pick first. I only got whatever she rejected. If she liked both, I got absolutely nothing. When we started elementary school, my parents practically begged the principal to put us in the same class so I could act as her personal caretaker. My backpack was stuffed with her pill bottles and thermos, leaving barely any room for my own books. My mother would kneel down and lecture me sternly. “Keep a close eye on your sister. Do not let her run or jump. If any nasty boys try to bully her, you have to protect her.” I wanted to tell her that no one would ever bully Vivian. The teachers told the whole class that Vivian was very sick and needed to be treated like glass. The other parents sighed and talked about how pitiful the poor, beautiful girl was. Vivian instantly became the precious princess of the entire school. During recess, kids crowded around her desk, racking their brains to make the fragile, pretty girl laugh. And they quickly figured out that Vivian only smiled her brightest when I was being humiliated. So, my water bottle was suddenly filled with chalk dust. My textbooks and uniform were stained with permanent ink. My desk drawer magically spawned dead bugs and rotting garbage. My mother would aggressively shove my ruined clothes into the washing machine. “Hope, you are a little girl! Why are you always so filthy? You are nothing like your sister. She is so clean and elegant.” Tears welled up in my eyes. “Mom, the kids at school are bullying me.” My mother frowned and turned to Vivian. “Vivian, is that true?” Vivian held up a sparkly hair clip a boy had just gifted her, blinking in innocent surprise. “No way! Everyone at school is so nice!” My mother slapped my shoulder. “Liar! If you keep making up stories for attention, you are not getting any presents next time!” I felt so incredibly wronged. I had not received a new present in years. Every time Dad brought something home, Vivian would look at it with wide, hesitant eyes, touching everything, unable to let anything go. And Dad would always say, “Hope, just let Vivian have it. Dad will buy you something else next time.” But “next time” never came. The bullying at school, my mother’s absolute distrust, my father’s neglect, and Vivian’s quiet tyranny left me sobbing into my pillow night after night. One day, exhausted and with swollen eyes, I accidentally handed my water bottle to Vivian. I did not know some boys had dumped crushed chalk into it again. Vivian took a sip, started coughing violently, and was rushed to the hospital. My mother, eyes red with fury, slapped me so hard my ears rang. “Hope! Just because your sister refused to cover up your lies, you actually tried to kill her!” I cried hysterically. “I did not put that in there! I swear it was an accident!” Nobody listened to my defense. My parents hovered over Vivian’s hospital bed, showering her with frantic affection. Through the gap between my parents’ shoulders, Vivian looked at my tear-streaked face. She smiled brilliantly, but her eyes were swirling with dark, concentrated hatred. She hated me. And that hatred peaked when we were eight years old. When we were eight, Vivian’s cancer relapsed aggressively. The doctors pulled my parents into the hallway and told them she would likely not live to see eighteen. While my parents sobbed outside, Vivian lay on the bed, weak and feverish, and whispered, “Hope, I want to live.” My heart ached. She was my sister. I wanted her to live too. Right at that moment, a man materialized in the center of the hospital room. His lips and eyes were stained pitch black, and massive bat-like wings folded behind his back. He introduced himself as a demon. He asked if I was willing to share my lifespan with my sister. Vivian’s eyes shot wide open. She stared at me, desperate and begging. I glared at the creature defensively. “The books say demons are evil!” The demon simply raised a brow, amused, but remained silent. Vivian panicked. She dragged her frail body out of the hospital bed, hyperventilating as she wildly clawed at my clothes. “Stop making excuses! You just do not want to save me!” “I want to live! Why won’t you save me?!” She cried so violently that the emotional overload caused her to pass out entirely. I was terrified. Watching her lips turn blue and her skin fade to a deathly gray, panic completely consumed me. The demon chuckled softly. “Oh my, what a tragedy. She is dying right now. She will not even make it to eighteen.” I was so scared. I was scared the demon was tricking me and would eat my soul. I was scared of what would happen to me if my lifespan was ripped away. I was scared that if my sister died right in front of me, my parents would blame me forever. But mostly, I was terrified of watching my own twin sister die. She still wanted to see the flower fields. She still wanted to sing in the school talent show. So, I said yes to the demon. The demon told me that excluding my first eight years, I was destined to live for another seventy-two years. He would take one-third of those remaining years as his payment, and transfer another third into Vivian’s body. I counted on my small fingers. That meant I was only going to live to be thirty-two. It felt so incredibly far away. I could not even imagine what I would look like twenty years from now. But it also felt so short. My mother was thirty-three. That meant I would die before I even reached my mother’s current age. The demon extracted two glowing golden orbs from my chest. He took a deep breath, swallowed one orb, and let out a satisfied sigh. Then, he pushed the remaining golden light into Vivian’s chest. The color returned to her cheeks almost instantly. When my parents rushed back into the room, Vivian woke up. The second she saw me, she started screaming hysterically. But the demon had already placed a temporary hex on our voices. She shrieked and babbled, but could not form a single coherent word about the deal. The sheer terror of almost dying, combined with her deep-seated resentment toward me, drove her completely insane. She pointed a shaking finger at me and desperately mouthed lies to our parents. “It was Hope! Hope hit me! She bullied me! She wants me dead!” My parents were horrified. Initially, they might have doubted it, but Vivian’s tears were so tragic and desperate. My mother cried in heartbreak. My father dragged me out of the room by my collar, kicked the back of my knees, and forced me to stand in the freezing hospital corridor. “Think about what you have done! Do not even think about coming back inside until you confess!” I stood shivering in the hallway until past midnight. Only after they had fully coaxed Vivian to sleep did they drag me back in. Under their terrifying, disgusted glares, I sobbed and swore that I would always protect my sister and never hurt her again. From that day on, Vivian found her ultimate outlet. She constantly invented new ways to frame me, running to our parents to complain just so they would punish me. And my parents never doubted her for a second. In their eyes, Vivian would always be the little angel covered in IV tubes, who fought for every breath but still smiled and said she was not in pain. The way my parents looked at me shifted from anger, to disgust, and finally, to utter apathy. Vivian always hated me. Especially on those nights when she lay in bed, swallowing handfuls of pills, in so much agony she could not sleep. She thought that after she passed out that day, I had cold-bloodedly rejected the demon. But the demon had been very clear from the start. He was exchanging lifespan, not health. Even though she would spend her life chronically ill, and I would spend mine perfectly healthy… We were both going to die at the exact same moment.

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Rowan Pierce despised inconvenience. From something as trivial as picking up my iced latte on his way home. To something as vital as reviewing my resume before a major job interview. He always acted like I was asking for the moon. But when it came to my younger sister. He could spend four grueling hours carrying her shopping bags around the mall. He could stay up for three consecutive nights mapping out her entire career trajectory. Until one night, during a massive torrential downpour. I was stranded under a leaking bus shelter. I called Rowan, begging him to come pick me up. He was only three blocks away. “It is completely out of my way. Stop being so difficult.” He rejected me, just like always. Yet he immediately turned his car around and drove ten miles in the opposite direction to drop my sister off at her apartment. Sometime later. Rowan went on a business trip and sent me a text message: [I am heading back soon. What kind of gift do you want?] I did not jump for joy. I did not text back a string of excited emojis. I simply typed out a polite refusal: [No need. It is too much of a hassle for you. Thanks anyway.] 01 Maybe he had never seen me use such a detached, formal tone before. The very next second. My phone rang. It was Rowan. “Didn’t you mention you wanted that limited-edition skincare set? You asked me to bring it back for you.” His voice was as cold and crisp as ever. It didn’t sound like he was offering a gift. It sounded like he was interrogating a suspect. That skincare set was a conversation from months ago. It had been sold out everywhere. The only place you could get it was the flagship store in the city he was currently visiting for work. I had brought it up a few times before he left. But every single time, he would just furrow his brow in deep annoyance. “I am going there to close a deal, Audrey. Not to act as your personal shopper.” “But you could just grab it on your way back to the hotel.” “It is not on the way. It is an inconvenience.” His excuses were always the same. Always an inconvenience. Hearing him suddenly bring it up now meant he had remembered all along. I suppose I should have felt a thrill of happiness. But maybe the fever burning through my veins had numbed my emotions. Or maybe it was because I had already paid a personal shopper double the retail price to ship that exact set to my apartment three days ago. Right now. My heart felt entirely hollow. I let out a soft “hmm” of acknowledgment. My answer echoed the text I had just sent him. “I already bought it myself. Don’t worry about it. I won’t trouble you.” Rowan fell utterly silent for two long seconds. I stayed silent, too. Because of my answer. The atmosphere between us over the cellular line twisted into something bizarrely quiet. “Audrey…” It sounded like Rowan wanted to say something else. But right at that exact moment. A bright, bubbly voice echoed in the background of his call: “Ro! Come here and look at this! Does this necklace look pretty on me?” “…” I didn’t launch into a jealous interrogation about who that voice belonged to. I used to. Not anymore. Realizing I had absolutely nothing left to say to him. I tactfully took the hint. “I have things to do. I am going to hang up now.” 02 My phone call with Rowan lasted exactly one minute and thirty-eight seconds. Thank god. It didn’t cross the three-minute mark. Otherwise, Rowan would have lectured me about wasting his precious time again. It couldn’t be helped. Rowan was a certified genius. And a genius’s time operated on a completely different currency than the rest of us normal people. Back when we were in high school. While everyone else was goofing off during summer break. He was counting every second, buried in advanced calculus and SAT prep. In the ten minutes between classes. He could finish half a practice exam. In his spare time, he dominated every academic decathlon and robotics competition in the state. Bringing home shiny medals and prestigious trophies for the school. He optimized his time to an absolute extreme. Every single minute was a commodity. Because of this, Rowan harbored a deep-seated resentment for anyone who wasted his time on trivial, mundane things. Especially me. Even though I was his girlfriend. During our dates. If I asked him to grab me a coffee on his way out of the lab. He would calculate that the five minutes spent waiting in line at the cafe could have been used to recalculate his data models. When I asked him to review my resume after college, he just glanced at it and sighed. “Your formatting is a chaotic mess, Audrey. There is nothing salvageable here.” “…” Well… That was exactly why I needed his help in the first place. But… Rowan just found it exhausting. I always felt like Rowan was the human embodiment of a perfectly coded algorithm. Every word, every action, flawlessly executed. He was like a high-voltage fence. Any attempt to cross his boundaries was strictly forbidden. So, in our daily lives. We always maintained this bizarre, invisible distance. Only in the dead of night, tangled in the sheets, did I ever see him lose even a fraction of his iron-clad control. But later, I finally figured it out. He wasn’t a man who hated trouble. He just hated it when the trouble came from me. 03 After I hung up, my screen lit up with two new texts from Rowan. [That was Michelle just now.] [Are you absolutely sure you don’t want anything?] The first text was an unsolicited explanation for the female voice. The second was a rare double-check on a request I had already denied. How incredibly strange. Rowan Pierce never asked twice once he got a ‘no’. I had no idea what glitch had infected his system. But staring at that first message. I couldn’t help but zone out. If there was one person on this entire planet who could make Rowan sacrifice his invaluable time? It was her. My younger sister, Michelle. She was the golden child of our family. Gorgeous, bratty, wildly vibrant, and totally uninhibited. She could be an absolute menace, yet somehow, she always managed to make people want to protect her. My mother abandoned a decade-long career just to be a stay-at-home mom for Michelle. My father drained his secret savings account just to buy Michelle an outrageously expensive designer gown for her eighteenth birthday. And even Rowan. When Michelle was throwing a tantrum. He would patiently carry her bags through endless department stores for four hours straight. When she was having a meltdown over the brutal job market. He would work late at the office, then pull an all-nighter to completely revamp her resume. He mapped out her five-year career plan and then effortlessly handed her an assistant position at his own tech firm. I used to be so confused. I was jealous. I was furious. I screamed, I cried, I acted like a total lunatic. But none of it made a single dent. Sometimes you just have to swallow the bitter pill and admit the truth. Some people just have to stand there and breathe. And the whole world will love them, effortlessly offering up the very things you would have to bleed to get. 04 I didn’t reply to Rowan’s texts. Once the IV bag was empty. I walked out of the sterile hospital lobby. The nurse had strictly ordered me to stay in bed for the next two days. She warned me the fever could easily spike again. “You really need someone to keep an eye on you at home. Where is your boyfriend? Or your folks?” Rowan… Rowan was on a business trip. As for my parents… Never mind. I wasn’t going to burden them. “I can manage on my own.” I called in sick and took two days off from work. I spent those forty-eight hours lying in bed in a hazy, feverish fever dream. My phone buzzed a few times. I didn’t bother checking the screen. Two days later, my chest finally felt lighter. The sickness was lifting. I unlocked my phone. Rowan’s pinned chat was flooded with unread messages. [Audrey, why aren’t you replying?] [What is going on with you? Audrey, pick up the phone.] And the final message read: [My flight lands on Sunday.] I stared at the screen. Then, I unpinned his chat from the top of my inbox. I noticed a missed voice call from my mother and dialed her back. “What’s up?” “Audrey, honey, Rowan said he couldn’t get a hold of you. He asked me to check in.” “I am fine. I have just been swamped with work the past couple of days.” “Oh, right, right. Well… when are you going to come home for dinner?” Ever since my sophomore year of college, when I started paying my own rent. I had moved out of that house and practically never looked back. I rarely visited. Not until I started dating Rowan and had to bring him over for the official ‘meet the parents’ dinner. I don’t know if guilt had finally caught up with my parents or what. But after I graduated. They suddenly started reaching out to the invisible older daughter they had spent a lifetime ignoring. “Saturday works. I am free then.” “Wonderful! What are you craving? I will cook whatever you want.” “Just something light.” My stomach was still recovering from the fever. I didn’t have much of an appetite. My mom happily agreed. But when Saturday rolled around. I didn’t just see my parents. I walked into the living room and saw Rowan and Michelle. 05 The man who specifically told me he was landing on Sunday. Was currently sitting on my parents’ velvet sofa, laughing and playing chess with my father. Michelle was curled up on the armchair next to them. Every few minutes, she would playfully snatch a chess piece to cheat for my dad. Eliciting fond, exasperated headshakes from both men. As for my mother. She was hovering around the dining room table, arranging the silverware. Occasionally, she would look up, her eyes melting into absolute adoration as she watched the three of them in the living room. The house smelled like rich, spicy Cajun butter and roasted garlic. The warm, golden glow of the chandelier bathed the entire scene in perfection. It was a picture-perfect, sickeningly sweet family portrait. I stood in the doorway, gripping my tote bag. Frozen. Unable to step forward, unable to back away. It reminded me of the first time I brought Rowan home for dinner. This exact scene had played out before. Back then, we had been stuck in traffic and arrived twenty minutes late. Rowan had walked in carrying an expensive bottle of wine. My mom had rushed over to the foyer, asking: “Did you guys hit rush hour?” “Yeah, traffic was crawling,” Rowan replied. Before I could even take my coat off, Michelle came flying down the oak staircase like a tornado. “Ro! You made it! Did you bring my iced matcha?” She fluttered around him like a hyperactive butterfly. Rowan let out a soft, amused sigh and handed her the sweaty plastic cup. “Getting your ridiculous drink is the exact reason we hit traffic in the first place.” Rowan wasn’t lying. The phone call inviting us to dinner had actually been made by Michelle. “Oh, by the way, when you drive over, stop at that cafe downtown and get me an iced matcha. Extra ice, three pumps of vanilla.” She had ordered him around like a servant. Rowan hadn’t even hesitated. Though he did frown softly, remembering a detail I didn’t even know. “Aren’t your cramps supposed to start soon? You shouldn’t be drinking ice.” Through the phone, Michelle had scoffed like a spoiled brat. “Fine, no ice then. Just make sure you bring it!” “Got it.” And so, when we left his apartment. Rowan had driven completely out of his way, hitting three extra red lights. Just to get Michelle her customized drink. Back in the present memory, Michelle stuck her tongue out at him. She grabbed the drink and immediately tugged on his sleeve. “I am stuck on this marketing proposal. You have to come look at it right now.” Ever since Michelle got hired at Rowan’s firm. She practically acted like his shadow. Rowan laughed, shaking his head. “Did I come here to eat a home-cooked meal, or to do your homework for you?” “Oh, come on! It will literally take you five seconds.” She dragged him away toward the living room. My dad sat by the coffee table, sipping his bourbon, smiling proudly at the two of them. My mom turned back to the kitchen to check on the roast. And I had stood there, much like I was doing right now. Like a ghost. A transparent outsider completely walled off from their reality. I had walked through the front door right behind him. But I had just stood in the center of the foyer, utterly invisible. Unable to blend in. So I just stood there, drowning in my own awkward, pathetic isolation. 06 But this time. Someone noticed me almost immediately. “Audrey…” Rowan was reaching for his knight on the chessboard. When he casually glanced toward the entryway with a smile on his face. His eyes locked onto mine. He froze completely. Hearing his voice, everyone in the living room and the kitchen stopped what they were doing and looked over. My mom was the closest to the door. She jumped a little when she saw me. “Audrey? What are you doing here today?” “Didn’t you literally invite me over for dinner?” I threw the question right back at her. My mom went completely blank. Watching the utter confusion dawn in her eyes. I knew instantly that she had completely forgotten about the phone call she made to me. I knew it. A bitter, mocking smile tugged at the corner of my lips. Embarrassment flashed across my mom’s face. She rushed forward to take my bag, trying to cover her tracks. “Right, right, of course! So glad you made it. Come in, come in.” Maybe it was just my imagination. But the second my foot crossed the threshold. That warm, picturesque, sitcom-family atmosphere shattered entirely. I gave my dad a stiff nod. He grunted in acknowledgment, his eyes already drifting back to the chessboard. Rowan stood up and walked toward me. “Audrey…” He looked like he was bursting with things to say. He reached his hand out toward me, leaving it awkwardly suspended in mid-air. Michelle shot me a side-eye, then stood up and stretched dramatically. “Mom, is the food ready? I am literally starving to death.” “Yes, yes, it is all done! Go wash your hands.” At the dinner table, Michelle’s loud chatter masked the thick, suffocating tension in the room. “Mom, you have no idea what I had to survive on during that trip. Bland salads and dry sandwiches everywhere. It was a nightmare.” “I have been craving your spicy seafood boil for a whole week.” My mom looked at Michelle like she had just survived a war zone. “Then eat up, sweetheart. You look so thin.” She piled a mountain of crab legs and shrimp onto Michelle’s plate. Then, she glanced at me. Probably trying to overcompensate for the fact that she forgot I was coming. She grabbed a piece of spicy sausage and dropped it onto my plate. “Eat up, Audrey. You too.” “…” I stared at the piece of sausage, dripping in bright red chili oil. “Mom, I…” “Oh, wait! Mom, Dad! We bought you guys presents from the trip!” Michelle totally cut me off. She practically leaped out of her chair. She bolted over to her designer suitcase that was still sitting in the corner of the dining room. A minute later. She was pulling out sleek, expensive shopping bags. “This one is for Dad! And this one is for you, Mom!” “Oh, honey, you shouldn’t have! You were there for work, you didn’t need to spend your money on us.” My parents were chiding her, but their faces were absolutely glowing with pure joy. Michelle tilted her chin up, looking exceptionally smug. “I didn’t pick them out alone. Rowan and I spent hours looking for the perfect ones, didn’t we?” She looked over at Rowan. “…Yeah.” Rowan gave a stiff nod. My parents were practically glowing. They kept gushing about how thoughtful ‘their Rowan’ was. Not a single person at that table noticed that my plate was completely empty. Even though I had spent a lifetime getting used to this. Swallowing the air at that dinner table made my chest ache so badly, I thought my fever had come back. Otherwise, why would my throat feel so impossibly tight? 07 An hour later. The plates were cleared. Since Rowan and Michelle had just gotten off a plane and were exhausted. My mom didn’t try to force us to stay for dessert. She ushered Rowan and me out the door. Rowan and I walked side-by-side into the dim, echoing parking garage beneath my parents’ building. Right as I reached for the passenger door handle, Rowan grabbed my wrist. “Audrey, our flight got changed at the last minute. That is why we got back early. I was going to text you the second I dropped Michelle off.” He had brought Michelle straight to her parents’ place from the airport. He just hadn’t expected my mother to aggressively insist he stay for dinner. And he certainly hadn’t expected me to walk through that door today. Rowan finally managed to spit out the explanation he had been holding in all night. During the entire dinner. We hadn’t exchanged a single word or even made eye contact. Well, I hadn’t. Rowan had kept stealing nervous glances at me the entire time. Now, as he stood under the harsh fluorescent lights of the garage. His face was deadly serious. His dark eyes were locked intensely onto mine. The crazy part was: I didn’t feel a single thing. If this had happened a month ago. My chest would have been filled with heavy, suffocating cotton. I would have given him the silent treatment for three days straight out of pure resentment. “Okay. Got it.” I nodded calmly and slid into the passenger seat. Rowan froze. He clearly had not prepared himself for such a cold, indifferent reaction. His mouth opened, then closed again. It was obvious he had an entire speech locked and loaded. But normally, I was the one who had to pry the words out of his mouth. Now that I refused to engage. He had no idea how to keep the conversation alive. When we finally got back to his luxury apartment. Rowan followed me quietly through the front door. He had been on a plane for six hours. Dark circles were already forming under his eyes. “I am going to take a shower first.” He popped the latches on his suitcase, letting it fall open on the hardwood floor. Lying right on top of his neatly folded dress shirts was a lace bra. “…” Rowan went completely rigid. His eyes snapped up to look at me in pure panic. Right on cue. His phone buzzed. It was Michelle. “Ro! I think I left some of my lingerie in your suitcase because mine wouldn’t close…” Before she could finish her sentence. Rowan slammed his thumb onto the end call button. He looked at me, his voice tight. “Her suitcase was over the weight limit, so she had to…” It was always like this. I couldn’t even count how many times these ‘innocent accidents’ or ‘unavoidable situations’ had happened. All I knew was. Standing there looking at that lace bra. I suddenly lost every single ounce of desire to hear his excuses or pick a fight. “Just keep the water pressure down. I am going to bed.” I pulled my gaze away from his panicked face. I turned on my heel and walked up the stairs. Behind me, I could feel the weight of Rowan’s stare burning into my back for a very, very long time. 08 The next morning, I had to go to work. My rideshare was exactly two minutes away. I was rushing down the stairs when Rowan stepped into the hallway, physically blocking my path. “I made breakfast. Eat before you leave.” “I can’t. I am going to be late.” “I will drive you.” Rowan stated firmly. His tech firm and my office building were only three blocks apart. But there was a notoriously brutal traffic light in between that lasted a full two minutes. Rowan had always considered those two minutes a criminal waste of his time. So, in the two years we had lived together, he had never once offered to drop me off or pick me up. Hearing him suddenly volunteer. I hesitated for a split second. But I easily sidestepped his outstretched arm. “No, it is fine. I don’t want to inconvenience you. My Uber is literally pulling up outside.” Later that afternoon, right before five o’clock. Rowan sent me another text. [I am coming to pick you up.] I typed back immediately: [Working late tonight.] The little typing bubble on his end popped up and danced for a long time. But he never actually sent a reply. For the next few days, it was the exact same routine. It was so incredibly bizarre. Normally, after a quick breakfast in complete silence. We would go our separate ways at the front door. Or Rowan would leave first, already deep in a conference call. But now, Rowan was literally standing by the door, waiting to leave together. And to avoid being trapped in the suffocating confines of his car. I had started waking up thirty minutes earlier just to sneak out. But I knew this cat-and-mouse game wasn’t sustainable. Until my company sent me out to do a site inspection at a new commercial mall with my boss. And just my luck. I bumped right into Rowan.

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While out for lunch, a sudden stomach cramp forced me to step away to the restroom. When I returned to our table, my boyfriend and my best friend were already gone. I reached to call them, only to realize my phone was still sitting inside my purse. And my purse was right there on the chair. I had been sitting against the wall, with my boyfriend beside me and my best friend across from him. Neither of them had noticed my bag. Neither of them had noticed my half-eaten meal. This was not the first time it had happened, and a wave of deep exhaustion washed over me. 1 I did not grab my bag and chase after them like I used to. Instead, I sat back down in quiet solitude. Without the endless talk of software architecture, product metrics, and bug reports buzzing in my ears, I finally enjoyed a peaceful lunch. When I got back to the office, I did not go upstairs to complain to them either. I went straight to my workstation at the front desk. All three of us worked for the same tech firm. The difference was that my boyfriend, Derek, was the R&D Manager, a core pillar of the company. My best friend, Brooke, was a Senior Product Manager, one of the elite rise-stars. And I was just the front desk receptionist. They were bright and accomplished. Compared to them, I was little more than a pretty piece of office furniture. “Hey Paige, Derek and Brooke already went upstairs. Why didn’t you go with them?” my shift partner asked, looking at me curiously. In the past, I always went upstairs with them before the end of lunch break. We would drink coffee and chat in the breakroom. Though, it was mostly the two of them talking while I listened. They talked about work stuff I did not understand and could never join in on. “I am fine down here,” I replied casually. It was time I seriously considered whether this relationship was worth keeping. At three in the afternoon, my phone buzzed with a text message. [Hey Paige, are you back at your desk? Something urgent came up at work, so we had to rush back first.] I flipped my phone face down and did not reply. It was always like this. Urgent work matters, high-level discussions, things a simple receptionist supposedly could not grasp. At five o’clock sharp, I clocked out. I did not wait for them. They worked overtime constantly. In the past, I would ask what they wanted to eat, pick up the takeout, bring it upstairs, and keep them company late into the night. Even if they stayed till dawn, I stayed with them. Today, I bought groceries and went straight home. Not to Derek’s apartment, but to my parents’ house. My true home. “Paige is back! How come you have time today? Isn’t work busy?” My mother took the shopping bags from my hands and called out toward the kitchen. “Honey, stop reheating the leftovers! Paige is home, cook something fresh!” Listening to my father’s cheerful voice from the kitchen, I sank into the sofa. No making dinner for those two, no stressing over how late I would have to stay up, no worrying about missing my alarm the next morning. An unprecedented sense of relief filled my chest. Then a text notification ruined the peace. [Paige, Brooke wants that spicy Thai food from across the street. Grab a takeout order and bring it up to the fourth floor.] So he was not checking in on his girlfriend. He just realized his food delivery person was missing. A surge of annoyance hit me. [Order it yourselves. I went home.] It took thirty minutes for his reply to come through. [Why didn’t you tell us sooner? Brooke is starving. Fine, get some rest, don’t wait up for me.] Rare for him to send two texts in a row, though one was a guilt trip and the other was a brush-off. 2 At the dinner table, my parents kept piling food onto my plate. I caught myself staring at my dish, realizing I used to do the exact same thing for Derek. He used to do it for me too, at the beginning. But then a third person joined us. Brooke used to laugh at us, calling us sickeningly sweet. From then on, Derek never put food on my plate again. Putting down my fork, I took a deep breath. “Mom, Dad, I want to change jobs.” They both looked up at me. “Did something happen at work?” my mother asked softly. I stayed silent and shook my head. She studied my face carefully. “Did you and Derek have a fight?” I paused before speaking. “Mom, do you think… he and I are just not right for each other?” When Derek and I first started dating, my mother said that Derek had a great degree and a promising career, while I might not be as accomplished, but I was sweet, pretty, and good-natured. A balanced match. She seemed to guess what was going on. My father began clearing the dishes, giving my mother a subtle look. “Derek is a capable young man, Paige,” my mother said gently. “But it is your life. If you feel you cannot walk this path together anymore, taking a step back to clear your head is not a bad thing.” She was right. A step back was long overdue. I was never the sharpest student growing up, but I was blessed with good looks. That was the primary reason I was hired as the face of the company at the front desk. During a heavy rainstorm three years ago, Derek and I were stranded at the office late one night. That was how we met. He did not know who I was, but I knew him. He was a brilliant software engineer, and I heard people praise his talent constantly. When I first met him, he was quiet, a classic introverted tech guy. I pursued him first. Perhaps because of my looks, it only took a month of courting before we became an official couple. Over the three years we were together, Derek rose from a junior developer to R&D Manager, and the company even provided him with a corporate apartment. I remained at the front desk. As soon as he got the apartment, Derek insisted I move in with him. It was close to work, so I happily agreed. Not long after I moved in, Brooke reentered my life. She had just lost her job and came to the office to visit me, running into Derek in the lobby. Knowing she was my friend, Derek asked if she wanted to interview for an open position at our firm. Brooke was nothing like me. She was brilliant, picked up everything instantly, and held a degree from a top tier university. She passed the interview with flying colors. In no time, she was promoted to Senior Product Manager. I could not pinpoint when it started, but suddenly they had an endless stream of work topics to discuss. At first, I would pucker my lips and ask them not to talk about work during our dates. They were cooperative at first, raising their hands like school kids promising to stop. Yet whenever they sat together, the conversation drifted back to work automatically. Gradually, they forgot there was another human being sitting right beside them. The very next morning, I handed my resignation to HR. The HR manager told me the offboarding process would take a month. I nodded and agreed. At noon, Brooke and Derek walked toward the front desk together, laughing at an inside joke. “Paige, let’s go get Thai food across the street!” Brooke said warmly, linking her arm through mine like she always did. “We went last night after you left, and it was amazing. You have to try it.” I looked over at Derek. “I thought you couldn’t eat spicy food?” Derek rubbed the back of his neck, but before he could speak, Brooke chuckled. “He really can’t handle spice, but we can’t make everyone suffer just for his weak stomach, right?” Derek chimed in immediately. “Brooke is right. We shouldn’t avoid spicy food just because of me.” I loved spicy food. But because Derek disliked it, I had spent three years accommodating his palate, cooking bland meals every day. It turned out he did not mind accommodating someone else. I gently pulled my arm out of Brooke’s grip. “You two go ahead. I will pass.” 3 Brooke stopped smiling and reached out to touch my forehead with concern. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?” Derek stepped closer too, his eyes softening. “Where does it hurt?” I stepped back, putting physical distance between us. “I am completely fine. Go enjoy your lunch.” Brooke suddenly gave Derek a playful shove. “Oh, this is all your fault! I knew it! It’s because you kept talking about work during lunch yesterday. See? You made Paige upset again.” Derek put his hands up helplessly. “How was that my fault? You brought up the testing phase first!” “I was worried your engineering team wouldn’t meet the deadline!” “When has my team ever missed a deadline? If your product specs weren’t changing every five minutes, we would have shipped last week!” “Those specs came from my market research! Without my oversight, could you even launch on time? Instead of thanking me, you complain!” “Fine, fine, Manager Brooke is always right…” I turned around and walked away, refusing to listen to another word. I took three steps before Derek realized I was leaving. “Paige, don’t be like this!” Brooke ran up after me. “I’m sorry, Paige! It’s his fault for getting me worked up. I won’t talk about work anymore, I promise!” To prove her point, she zipped her lips with her fingers, wide-eyed and staring at Derek dramatically. Derek chuckled at her antics, then turned to me. “Paige, give it a rest. If you stay mad, Brooke is going to blame me all afternoon.” When I did not respond, a flash of annoyance crossed Derek’s face. “Honestly, I should be the one mad at you for walking out last night and running off to your mother’s house without a word,” he added, his voice hardening. “We were just talking about company projects. Why are you getting so petty lately?” “Enough,” I interrupted him. I turned around, looking at him with cold detachment, and uttered the words I had weighed all night. “Derek, let’s break up.” The moment the words left my mouth, even I felt a brief shock. I had not expected saying it to feel so simple, so liberating. Derek froze, caught off guard for a second, before breaking into a sudden chuckle. “Paige, stop playing around. That’s not funny at all.” “I am not joking.” “I am completely serious. You should take time to process it.” Brooke had tried to jump in when I first said the word breakup. Seeing my stony expression now, she could no longer hold back. “Paige, please don’t be mad!” she pleaded, reaching out for my hand. “It’s really not a big deal, just take a deep breath…” I dodged her hand cleanly. “I am not mad, and I am completely calm. I mean every word. Derek, we are over.” The dismissive smile in Derek’s eyes melted into irritation. Treating my breakup statement as a childish tantrum, he grabbed Brooke’s elbow. “Brooke, let’s go,” he snapped. “Let her sit here and cool her head.” “Wait, Derek, Paige hasn’t eaten yet!” “She’s an adult, Brooke. When she gets hungry, she’ll eat.” As if deliberately trying to spite me, Derek pulled Brooke along, walking away without looking back once. Brooke kept glancing back over her shoulder. I did not stand there sulking. I turned around and ordered takeout on my phone. Right after I finished eating, Brooke came rushing back into the lobby holding a sleek takeout container, with Derek trailing casually behind her. “Paige, I packed some food for you! Eat while it’s warm!” An hour had passed. They had clearly finished their own meal. “No need to trouble yourself. I already ate.” Brooke froze mid-action as she opened the container. Seeing my indifferent expression, Derek lost his patience entirely. He stepped forward and shoved the food containers back into the bag. “I told you not to bother packing food for her,” Derek sneered at Brooke. “Now you see what happens when you try to be nice? If she wants to starve, let her.” I remained silent, watching him calmly. Truth be told, I had never seen Derek act this sharp and impatient before. He was defending Brooke, just as he used to defend me years ago. Having dated him for three years, claiming I felt no pain would be a lie. My chest felt tight, suffocatingly sore. 4 From that day on, Derek initiated a silent treatment. I remained unaffected, staying comfortably at my parents’ house. The only time I crossed paths with him was during the morning rush at the office entrance. Derek acted as though I were invisible. Even if we accidentally ended up face-to-face, he would shift his gaze away, as if delivering a silent punishment. I paid it no mind, focusing solely on finishing my final month at work. Brooke continued to greet me every morning. I responded politely, maintaining the exact tone one would use with a distant coworker. At lunch, Derek still pulled Brooke along to eat out every day. Brooke played the part of the helpless, sympathetic friend caught in the middle of a couple’s squabble to perfection. After dining with Derek, she would come down to lecture me on reconciliation. “Paige, stop picking fights with Derek. Just make up with him already.” When Brooke brought it up yet again, I could not hold back a weary sigh. “Brooke, I am not picking a fight.” I looked her dead in the eye. “And we have officially broken up. Please stop telling me to make up with him.” Even if he had not verbally accepted it, the words had been spoken. As far as I was concerned, the relationship was dead. Brooke looked stunned. “Paige, what is wrong with you? I just want to see you two happy.” I tilted my head, studying her. “Happy? And then what? Continue letting you tag along on every date? Or rather, continue letting me play third wheel to the two of you while I get ignored?” My direct confrontation made Brooke’s eyes well up with tears. Looking utterly wronged, she turned and ran off. Not long after she left, Derek stormed downstairs in a fury. He no longer ignored me. He walked straight up to my desk, his face set in a stern glare, looking like a manager about to reprimand an incompetent subordinate. “What did you say to Brooke?” I knew he was here to fight Brooke’s battles again. A wave of profound powerlessness washed over me. I could not help but roll my eyes. “I didn’t say anything.” Derek snapped instantly. “You didn’t say anything? Then why is she crying upstairs?!” “Paige, whatever issues exist between us, why do you have to take it out on Brooke? If you have a problem, direct it at me!” “Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend?” “Look at yourself! When did you become so bitter and petty?” “Over one tiny argument, you are throwing a massive fit!” Derek raised his voice, completely uncaring of how sharp the stares from passing colleagues felt against my skin. Tears spilled from my eyes. Not out of hurt or embarrassment, but out of pure, unadulterated rage. “Derek, who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” “What did I do to her?” “Did I hit her, curse at her, or steal her boyfriend?” “In what capacity are you standing here interrogating me and protecting her?” “As her boyfriend?” A flicker of panic crossed Derek’s face, but he recovered instantly, letting out a cold laugh. “I knew it. You are jealous.” “You just can’t stand seeing me discuss work with Brooke!” “I told you a thousand times, it’s work! Purely professional!” “You are always so immature. You make everything so exhausting for everyone around you.” His mocking words nailed me to the spot. The rage that had been boiling inside me instantly went cold, chilling me from head to toe. Having heard the commotion, Brooke came running downstairs again. “Derek, what are you doing?” she yelled, grabbing his arm. “How could you say that to her?” Derek realized his words had been harsh, though he merely shifted his eyes briefly before regaining his righteous posture. “She’s the one making a scene out of nothing,” he muttered, turning on his heel and walking away. Brooke looked at me, her eyes filled with guilt. “Paige, I didn’t know… I didn’t know he would say those things…” I let out a cold laugh, cutting her off. “Brooke, you must be feeling pretty proud right now.” “He just humiliated me to defend you. You must be thrilled.” I rarely spoke with such venom, but seeing her tragic, innocent act made my stomach turn. “Paige, how could you think of me like that?” Brooke looked deeply hurt. “Why shouldn’t I? Didn’t you run upstairs to cry to him? Isn’t this exact outcome what you wanted?” Brooke choked on her words, unable to produce another innocent excuse. “Now if you will excuse me, I am working. Please refrain from coming down unless you have official business.” I wiped my tears away and ignored her entirely. Before the day was over, news of the blowup between Derek, Brooke, and me had spread through the entire company. 5 My shift partner at the front desk offered a few comforting words before leaning in. “Paige, did you really break up with Manager Derek?” I nodded without hesitation. “Completely.” She smiled. “Good for you! Every time I saw those two flirting under the guise of work, I wanted to throw up.” It turned out everyone saw it clearly. I was the only fool clinging to denial. Seeing my pale face, my coworker dropped the topic. “Anyway, it’s in the past now! With a face like yours, you can get any high-quality guy you want. Don’t waste tears on him.” Brooke seemed truly stung by my words, as she did not come down to see me for several days. Derek continued his cold shoulder routine, pretending I did not exist. Just like that, a whole week passed without a single word spoken between us. Yet, being in the same building, gossip about them never stopped reaching my ears. For instance, how Manager Brooke and Manager Derek teamed up to launch a major new product feature. Or how the two of them worked late into the night together and received praise from the executive board. A few curious colleagues tried to pry information out of me, but I simply smiled and told them Derek and I were split up, and his life was none of my concern. Until one afternoon, the front desk received an urgent courier package meant for the Administration Department on the fourth floor. My shift partner happened to be on break, so I had to take it upstairs myself. In the elevator, I ran into a few colleagues from marketing. They looked at me with a mix of pity and subtle anticipation. I knew why they pitied me, assuming a simple front desk girl had been dumped by a rising manager. But I did not care to entertain their drama. I just wanted to drop off the document and head back down. However, the moment the elevator doors slid open on the fourth floor, I bumped right into Brooke. “Paige! You came up!” “Are you here to see Derek? How did you know we were in the conference room? Let me go call him out for you…” Before Brooke could finish her sentence, Derek walked out from the hallway, having clearly overheard her. His eyes swept over me coldly. “Since you’re here, come sit in my office for a moment.” His tone was aloof. “No thanks. I am only here to deliver an urgent package to Admin.” Brooke looked at the thick envelope in my hand and snatched it right out of my grip. “What package is so important? I’ll drop it off at Admin for you! Go sit in Derek’s office and rest.” She gave me a gentle push toward Derek. Wearing high heels, the nudge forced me to take two steps toward him to keep my balance. A knowing smirk flickered in Derek’s eyes. He reached out to steady my elbow, lowering his voice. “Come on. Brooke will deliver it for you.” “Since you realize you were wrong, let’s just forget about the past few days.” “You throwing a fit like this hasn’t been easy on me either.” Without a second of hesitation, I pulled my arm back and stepped away from him. “Manager Derek, we are broken up. This kind of physical contact is inappropriate.” Derek’s eyes darkened instantly. “Paige, are you ever going to stop?” Unwilling to waste more breath, I turned to Brooke with polite distance. “Then I will trouble Manager Brooke to drop off the file. I have work downstairs.” Derek’s face turned thunderous. Brooke gave his arm a light nudge. “What are you standing there for? Go after her! Why else would the front desk send her up to deliver a file personally? She’s just putting up a front because she’s stubborn.” I heard Brooke’s words clearly, but I did not bother to clarify. They could believe whatever fantasy made them feel superior. Derek made a move to step forward, then caught himself and stopped. As the elevator doors closed, I heard Derek call out sharply, “Don’t run around during work hours!” I could not tell if he was speaking to me or to himself. When the elevator reached the third floor, another colleague stepped in. It was Phoebe. We had joined the company in the same hiring batch. She held a master’s degree and worked in the analytics team. During our first year, she often came down to the front desk to chat with me, and we became close friends. But she had always made a point to avoid eating lunch with Derek and me. 6 “Paige, I haven’t seen you come upstairs for lunch lately,” Phoebe said, taking my wrist. “I have a few things I really need to tell you. Come with me to the breakroom.” I assumed she wanted to complain about work, but seeing as the front desk was unattended, I declined gently. “I can’t right now, Phoebe. I’m the only one covering the desk today. Let’s catch up after work.” Phoebe looked disappointed, but nodded. “Alright, I’ll come down to see you as soon as I finish this report.” I thought I would coast through my remaining two weeks peacefully, but the very next morning, the moment I set foot in the lobby, my shift partner pulled me aside frantically. “You’re finally here! Did you sign for an urgent envelope yesterday for the Admin Department? Mr. Briggs from Admin is throwing a massive fit upstairs right now! Go take the file up to him!” I frowned in confusion. “I brought it up yesterday afternoon.” My coworker knitted her brows. “That’s strange. Why is he screaming that he never received it?” “Never mind that, just go upstairs and clarify with him before he calls HR!” Under her urging, I hurried up to the fourth floor. Mr. Briggs, the head of Administration, was bowing and apologizing into his desk phone when I walked in. Seeing me enter, he motioned for me to sit on the couch and wait. After five minutes, he slammed the phone down, his face dark as a thundercloud. “Paige, where is that courier package?” “I brought it up yesterday afternoon.” “Brought it up? To whom?” “I gave it to Manager Brooke right outside the elevator. She promised to hand it to you personally.” “Brooke?” Mr. Briggs stood up immediately. “Come with me to get it. That file contains crucial vendor contracts for the new project launch!” Realizing the severity of the situation, I quickened my pace behind him. We found Brooke inside Derek’s office. The two of them were leaning over a laptop, discussing work. Mr. Briggs knocked forcefully on the glass door. Both of them looked up. Brooke immediately stood up and walked toward me with a wide smile. “Paige, are you here to see Derek again? I’ll head out so you two can talk!” Every single time I came upstairs, she made sure to announce to the room that I was chasing after Derek. Finding it intensely pathetic, I ignored her jab and spoke in an official tone. “Manager Brooke, did you fail to hand yesterday’s urgent package to Mr. Briggs?” A flicker of panic flashed across Brooke’s eyes. Mr. Briggs could not hold back his impatience. “Brooke, that document is extremely time-sensitive! Hand it over right now!” “I…” Brooke shot a helpless glance at Derek. A bad feeling bloomed in my chest. Derek stood up, stepping between Brooke and Mr. Briggs. “What document, Mr. Briggs? Is it really that urgent?” “Of course it’s urgent! It’s the master licensing agreement from headquarters! My team needs it to finalize the quarterly compliance report!” Hearing how critical the document was, Brooke cast another pleading look at Derek. “Brooke, Paige said she handed it to you directly,” Mr. Briggs demanded, holding out his hand. “Where is it?” At that moment, Derek took a step forward, completely shielding Brooke behind his back. “Mr. Briggs, Brooke was working in my office all afternoon yesterday. I certainly didn’t see her take any document from anyone.” “That’s impossible! She literally grabbed it out of my hand by the elevator!” the protest burst from my mouth. Derek narrowed his eyes at me, his gaze laced with cold warning. “Paige, delivering files is front desk responsibility,” Derek said smoothly. “Brooke is a Senior Product Manager. Why would she do your job for you?” “If the document is missing, it is obvious you lost it yourself.” I stared at Derek in sheer disbelief, then turned my gaze to Brooke. Derek shifted his eyes away from mine. Brooke kept her head lowered, too guilty to look me in the eye. 7 “Mr. Briggs, I swear on my job I handed that file to Brooke,” I said firmly. “If you don’t believe me, pull the security footage from the fourth floor elevator hallway from yesterday afternoon. You will see her take it from my hands.” “Paige!” Derek snapped, his face turning dangerously dark. Mr. Briggs was already beside himself with anxiety over the missing paperwork. Hearing my suggestion, he snapped, “I’m going to Security right now. If that file isn’t found, someone is getting fired!” I moved to follow Mr. Briggs, but Derek suddenly grabbed my wrist with a firm grip. He lowered his voice, his tone shifting into a mixture of pleading and expectation. “Paige, listen to me. Brooke was exhausted last night and forgot about the file, and now she can’t find where she misplaced it. Can’t you just say you lost it downstairs?” My eyes widened as I looked at him, feeling as though I were looking at a complete stranger. “Say I lost it? Why should I take the blame for her mistake when she literally…” Derek rubbed his temples, interrupting me with rising irritation. “I know she took it! But you heard Mr. Briggs, that file is worth a fortune to the company!” “You are just a receptionist! Taking a strike on your record for a lost package is no big deal! But Brooke is a product manager. If she gets tagged with a blunder like this, it will ruin her reputation with upper management!” Just a receptionist. I thought Derek was merely a oblivious guy lacking social boundaries, but it turned out he harbored a deep seated professional snobbery. A sharp, unbearable ache radiated through my chest. In that moment, I had to admit the painful truth: I had misjudged his character entirely. I ripped my wrist out of his grip and slammed my hand across his face with a loud, ringing slap. “Derek, do you have any shame left at all?!” The slap echoed sharply in the quiet office. Brooke gasped in horror and immediately stepped in front of Derek, shielding him. “Paige! How could you hit him?!” I glared at her, my voice ice-cold. “Because of your pathetic, incompetent mistake!” Brooke’s eyes turned red, tears instantly welling up. “Fine! It’s all my fault! I was careless! I’ll go tell Mr. Briggs the truth right now!” She made a dramatic move to leave, but Derek caught her arm instantly. “Brooke, don’t be stupid!” Derek urged, holding her back. “You worked so hard to get this position! If headquarters penalizes you over this contract, your career trajectory is ruined!” Brooke hesitated, biting her lip. “But we can’t make Paige take the fall…” Seeing that I remained completely unmoved by her tears, Brooke gritted her teeth. “At worst, they can just fire me!” Hearing that, Derek turned to me and barked furiously, “You slapped me, you yelled at her, haven’t you vented enough?! Can’t you just help Brooke out this once?!” “Isn’t she supposed to be your best friend?!” “Can’t you do a simple favor for her?!” “Paige, don’t make me despise you!” Looking at the two of them standing united against me, my stomach churned so violently I nearly gagged. “Save your breath,” I said coldly. “Once Mr. Briggs checks the surveillance footage, the truth will speak for itself.” Hearing my words, Derek did not look nervous at all. Instead, a mocking smirk touched the corner of his lips. My heart sank instantly. Within minutes, Mr. Briggs marched back down the hall, fuming with rage. “Unbelievable! How could that hallway camera happen to be offline yesterday of all days?!” I whipped my head around to stare at Derek. Derek met my gaze with a triumphant smirk. He had actually used his systems access to wipe or disable the footage just to protect Brooke. Mr. Briggs stopped in front of us, rubbing his temples. “Paige, the footage is missing. I don’t care who touched what, I only care about accountability!” Before I could speak, Derek immediately stepped forward. “Mr. Briggs, I can testify as a department head that Brooke never received any file yesterday. However, I did see Paige come up to the fourth floor afternoon. She claimed to be delivering a document, but where she dropped it off, nobody knows.” Derek looked at me with cold cruelty, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “582296”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

For five years, I was Sebastian Croft’s mistress. Then, I finally got the promotion. The woman who once screamed herself hoarse, calling me a shameless homewrecker, signed the divorce papers with the stillness of a stagnant pond. Before she left, she asked me a single, weightless question: “Do you believe in karma?” I laughed. If karma was real, I wouldn’t be sitting here, about to become the next Mrs. Croft. She had no one to blame but herself. She’d let herself become a bitter, washed-up housewife, incapable of holding on to her man. Once I had the title, I never slacked. I was relentless with my fitness, my skincare, my regular beauty appointments. Seven years into our marriage, Sebastian was still completely captivated by me. Even the two children she’d left behind, Aaron and Anna, now clung to me, their birth mother a distant memory. I always believed that karma was just a curse whispered by losers on their way out. Until today. From the leather of Sebastian’s belt, I found it. A single strand of bubblegum-pink hair, curled and caught near the buckle. 1 Sebastian always loved my long, straight black hair. Back when we were first together, whenever he was stressed, he would bury his face in it. The faint scent was enough to calm him. He despised what he called “tacky, artificial” hair colors. So, from the moment I was with him, I babied my hair, never daring to dye or perm it. For twelve years, it remained a flawless sheet of black silk. But this strand of hair—a pale, chemical pink—was tangled right where his belt would press against his waist. I could almost picture the position that put it there. “What’s wrong? You’ve been standing out on the balcony forever.” His voice was a low murmur behind me. “It’s windy. You’ll catch a cold.” He wrapped his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder in that familiar, possessive way. Then he saw the hair pinched between my fingers. Sebastian froze for a fraction of a second. The next moment, his long, elegant fingers deftly flicked the pink strand away. It fluttered to the ground, disappearing into the dusk. “Let’s go back inside. It’s cold.” He acted as if nothing had happened. I remained still, waiting. The silence stretched, but no explanation came. “Don’t you have anything you want to say to me?” I finally asked. Sebastian paused, seemingly surprised I would press the issue. He studied me for a long moment, his tone still infuriatingly casual. “Must have gotten caught on me during a dinner meeting.” “Accidentally?” This wasn’t the first time. I’d smelled perfume on his collar that wasn’t mine. I’d found a tube of hot pink lipstick wedged in the passenger seat. I knew the kind of world Sebastian moved in; there were always women trying to claw their way up. But their attempts were usually so pathetic, so low-class. Sebastian was above that. But now, the evidence was right in front of me, impossible to ignore. A bitter laugh escaped my lips. “It seems so easy for trash to get close to you.” “Tsk.” The word “trash” seemed to strike a nerve. He looked down at me, a faint, mocking glint in his eyes. “What’s the matter? Don’t forget where you came from.” 2 I froze, the words hitting me like a physical slap. My face burned. I looked up at him in disbelief, but all I saw was his cool, condescending gaze. In the beginning, we had fallen together. But now, it seemed I was the only one who came out covered in mud. “Victoria, don’t make a scene.” Sebastian leaned in, his breath warm against my ear, but his words were ice. “Isn’t it enough to just be Mrs. Croft?” He let me go and walked away without a backward glance. On the table, the candles on our seventh-anniversary cake still flickered. He’d been on a business trip overseas; we hadn’t seen each other in two weeks. I’d begged for days, and he’d finally postponed a major project to come home for me. A gust of wind swept across the balcony, making the flames dance wildly, threatening to extinguish them. My phone buzzed. It was a message from the private investigator I’d hired a few days ago. Mr. Davies:[Ruby. 23 years old.] [Hired at H Corp three years ago, no interview. Position: Executive Secretary.] [Ms. Vance, H Corp is a subsidiary of Croft Industries.] [Current residence is in the villas over in Eastwood. Phone number xxxxx.] My finger dialed the number before I even consciously decided to. A cheerful, upbeat ringtone filled the silence. I stopped breathing. It was a matching version of Sebastian’s own ringtone. When we first started dating, I had begged him to use a matching one with me. He indulged my every other whim, but on that, he refused. His reason: “Darling, this number is for business, too.” He’d bought me a closet full of limited-edition bags to make up for it. Now, a sweet, feminine voice sang through the phone, over and over. A burning jealousy seared its way up my throat. My fingertips trembled as the call connected. I said nothing. Neither did she. After a few seconds of silence, a soft laugh came from the other end. Ruby’s voice was confident, as if she’d been expecting this all along. “Well? Finally couldn’t take it anymore?” That tone, those words. They were so familiar. Eight years ago, when his ex-wife, Eleanor, had found me for the first time, she’d stormed in, screaming, and slapped me across the face. I had looked at her, then, and smiled. “Losing your composure, Mrs. Croft?” “This look on your face… it’s truly ugly.” “No wonder Sebastian wouldn’t even show me a picture of you.” Eleanor had shaken with rage, the loose skin on her face and body trembling with her. Remembering that twisted, aging face, I glanced down at my own reflection in the dark screen of my phone. My skin was still firm, meticulously maintained. Even in my late thirties, I was flawless. I took a deep breath, my voice steady. “So you were waiting for me? Then let’s talk.” Ruby had clearly wanted to provoke me. My calmness seemed to bore her. “Fine by me.” See, Eleanor? There’s a difference between one Mrs. Croft and another. Even when faced with the same betrayal, I, Victoria Vance, can handle it so much better than you ever could. 3 Unlike Eleanor, who had come at me like a cornered animal, all rage and reckless words, destroying the last shred of pity Sebastian had for her, I came prepared. I had a spa treatment beforehand. I wore the latest haute couture dress. I chose the location: a quiet, atmospheric café. The PI’s file was thorough. Ruby’s life was an open book. She’d latched onto Sebastian when he gave a lecture at her university. She was aggressive. Poor family, a father with a gambling problem who’d done time. She’d had a rebellious phase in high school, running with a bad crowd. Even more low-class than I imagined. But even with all that information, when her face appeared across the table from me, I was stunned. She was an eight-point ringer for Eleanor. She even had the same faint beauty mark under her eye. In my mind, I saw the knowing looks from the guests at my wedding. I heard Sebastian’s friends, who used to privately call me “Little Eleanor.” After the wedding, I had consciously dressed in a style completely opposite to hers, desperate to escape that shadow. But this girl… she looked more like Eleanor than I ever had. A wave of absurdity washed over me. It couldn’t be. Ruby crossed her arms and waved away the waiter. “Just a glass of warm milk, please.” She raised an eyebrow at me. “Cat got your tongue? You’re the one who wanted to talk.” She wasn’t even wearing makeup. Her face was bare, her skin glowing under a simple, loose-fitting cotton sundress. Even her pink hair, a color that should have looked garish and washed-out without a full face of cosmetics, looked effortlessly chic on her. I glanced at my own reflection in the window, at the face that required a full application of makeup to look this perfect. My fingers tightened on my clutch. I pushed the prepared credit card across the table. “There’s five million on this. It’s enough—” Enough for her to lift her entire family out of the gutter. Ruby laughed. “Are you kidding me, Grandma? Is that what you give to beggars?” “Do you have any idea how much Sebastian gives me a month?” For seven years, Sebastian had kept me in a gilded cage. “All you need to do is be happy and be Mrs. Croft,” he’d once said. I rarely got involved in his business, aside from major galas. I knew nothing of the company’s finances or assets. I fought to keep my composure, ignoring the taunt in her eyes. “How long do you think a relationship like yours can last? Ambition is fine, but in this situation, it might not be a good thing.” Ruby burst out laughing. She laughed so hard tears came to her eyes, looking at me as if I were a clown. “Oh, that’s rich… hahaha.” “Victoria, have you forgotten how you became Mrs. Croft in the first place?” After a moment, she straightened up, her hand gently resting on her stomach. “And besides… I’m not like you.” 4 No makeup. The dark roots of her hair showing. The glass of milk. And under the loose cotton dress, a barely perceptible swell. My head spun. No… it’s not possible. Seven years ago, in my first month as the new Mrs. Croft, I had gotten pregnant. When I joyfully told Sebastian, he had looked at my stomach, his expression gentle, but his voice was absolute. “Darling, I don’t want to hurt Aaron and Anna.” “They’ve already lost their mother. I don’t want them to have another reason to hate me.” Aaron and Anna. His twins with Eleanor. Divorcing her, he felt his only failure was to his children. He didn’t want another child with me. After the chemical abortion, as I lay in the hospital bed, Sebastian had promised me, “Aaron and Anna are your children now. Our children.” For seven years, I had honored that promise. I never dared to dream of having a child of my own. And now, Ruby was pregnant. Her sharp laughter was like a poison-tipped needle, stabbing into my heart. The pain was so intense I could barely sit upright. The next thing I knew, the warm milk had been thrown all over her. “Victoria! How dare you!” she shrieked. I looked down at my trembling hand, the empty glass rolling off the table and shattering on the floor. “Get in here! Slap her!” The door to our private room burst open. A large, imposing man stepped inside. When his eyes met mine, he flinched. It was Alex, Sebastian’s personal bodyguard. He had been assigned to me when we first got together. He’d been reassigned four years into our marriage, right around the time Sebastian met Ruby. Four years… The pieces clicked into place, forming a tight, painful knot in my mind. “What are you waiting for? Hit her!” Ruby screamed. The bodyguard hesitated. “Maybe… we should inform Mr. Croft first…” “Alex, are you disobeying me now?” Ruby sneered. “What did Sebastian tell you when he assigned you to me?” I looked up at Alex. He was Sebastian’s most trusted man, with him for over a decade. He knew Sebastian better than I did. What Sebastian valued, Alex valued. His hesitation gave me a sliver of insane hope. I grabbed my purse and stood, my head held high, ready to walk out. But a hand blocked my path. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Croft.” A stinging slap sent me reeling to the floor, my cheek burning. The world went blurry, the sounds around me distorted. I clutched my face, trying to clear my head. Then, Ruby’s phone rang. A familiar, gentle voice filled the room. “Why aren’t you at home? Where did you run off to now?” “Oww,” Ruby whined, her voice thick with fake tears. “It hurts.” Sebastian, who was supposed to be in another country for the rest of the week, appeared in less than half an hour. He meticulously checked Ruby from head to toe, ensuring she wasn’t burned. Only then did his expensive leather shoes turn towards me. “You promised me,” I whispered, looking at his face, searching for a trace of guilt. “You said you wouldn’t have any more children.” Sebastian looked down at me, his eyes cold, as if observing an insect. “I told you,” he said, his voice a soft, terrifying echo of his once-tender tone, “to behave.” “Victoria, if you can’t control yourself… I’ll have to send you to a hospital.”

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I’m the true heiress. On the very first day of our reunion, my biological mother pushed a bank card across the table towards me. “A million dollars a month. You don’t have to genuinely treat me like your mother. Just put on a good show in front of outsiders, and don’t embarrass me.” I froze for half a second, then immediately dropped to my knees, clinging to her leg as if my life depended on it. “Mom! How can you even talk about conditions with me? We’re a match made in heaven, anyone who tries to break us up will face karmic retribution!” Her brow furrowed. “…Don’t say such things.” I instantly corrected myself. “I get it, I get it, low-key. We’ll just call it a family subsidy, and I’ll take it.” Twelve million a year… Forget playing the loving daughter, I’d even call the fake heiress ‘sister’ with more sweetness than anyone else. 1. My knees ached, the marble floor was unforgivingly hard. But the smile on my face never wavered. Ms. Eleanor White, my recently acknowledged biological mother, clearly wasn’t used to this kind of theatrics. “Get up,” she commanded. “What kind of behavior is that?” I scrambled to my feet. “Right away, Mom. Your wish is my command.” “Let’s get one thing straight,” she settled back into the sofa, crossing her legs. “Cassandra Miller has lived in this house for twenty-two years. She’s delicate, with a heart condition, and can’t handle stress. To the outside world, you’re twins. She’s the older sister, you’re the younger. I don’t want to see any jealous squabbles.” I clasped the card with both hands and tucked it into my jeans pocket. “Don’t you worry, Mom.” I stood ramrod straight, practically saluting. “As long as the money’s there, Cassandra is my true sister. If she wants water, I’ll never offer her soda. If she wants to walk, I’ll never let her sit in a wheelchair. Oh, no, I mean, I’d carry her myself.” Just then, a girl leaned over the banister, looking down. This was Cassandra Miller, the fake heiress who’d occupied my place for twenty-two years. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked at me, tears already welling up before she spoke. “Mom… is this… Ms. Brooks?” According to the typical script, I should have been pointing my finger at her and calling her a thief. But I was different. This wasn’t an enemy; this was my personal ATM! If it weren’t for accommodating her delicate feelings, would Eleanor White be paying me such a generous salary? Cassandra bit her lip. “Ms. Brooks, I’m so sorry, I stole your life… If you mind, I can move out…” Eleanor White’s face darkened, she was about to speak. “Sis! What are you talking about?!” I widened my eyes, feigning deep sorrow, channeling the same sincerity I’d used to convince old ladies to buy portable chargers at the train station back in the day. “‘Stealing’ and such, how awful! These twenty-two years, you’ve suffered in this mansion!” Cassandra was stunned, tears clinging to her eyelashes, unsure whether to fall or not. “Huh?” I gripped Cassandra’s hands tightly, my voice brimming with heartfelt emotion. “Sis, just look at you, so thin! The food in a mansion isn’t delicious, is it? Too many rules? Too much pressure? I heard that wealthy people have to learn piano, painting, horseback riding, and attend social events constantly, how exhausting! I’m different, I was out in the countryside feeding pigs and chopping wood, strong as an ox, eating anything with gusto. Only a rough-and-tumble person like me could endure that hard life. You suffering for me all these years, little sister here feels awful about it!” Cassandra’s mouth hung open, unable to utter a word for a long moment. I struck while the iron was hot, turning to Eleanor White. “Mom, see how Sis is being so distant with me? From now on, with me around, no one will ever bully my sister. Sis, you just relax and stay put. Live exactly as you did before, I promise not to talk too much, not to cause any trouble, and never to worry you two.” “Alright. Since everything’s been said, let’s eat.” 2. I’d just picked up my chopsticks when a middle-aged man walked in. This was my biological father, Nick White. Though I called him Dad, he was actually the son-in-law who’d married into the family. The White family was rich, he was handsome – the script back then was likely a poor boy marrying a rich girl. “So this is… the one from the countryside?” He handed his jacket to the housekeeper, unbuttoning his cuffs as he walked over. “Why are you dressed like that? And no manners at the table.” I glanced down at myself. The clothes were from a discount store, not the best, but they weren’t revealing either. Nick White sat down, ignoring me, and instead served Cassandra a piece of fish. “Cassandra, eat more. You’ve looked so pale these past few days, Dad’s worried.” Cassandra glanced at me, then quietly said, “Thank you, Dad. Dad, my sister just got back, why don’t you get her something too?” What a perfectly brewed little drama queen, still stirring up trouble for me even now. Sure enough, Nick White slammed his chopsticks onto the table. “Her? She’s eaten everything under the sun in the village, does she need me to serve her?” “Now that you’re back, you’ll follow the White family rules. Wash off all that country bumpkin grime and don’t go out embarrassing your mother. And that name of yours, what was it again? Rose Brooks? Absolutely tacky.” He waved his hand in disgust. “Go change it tomorrow. I’ve decided, you’ll be Victoria White.” My million-dollar monthly salary included enduring my biological mother’s temper, but it didn’t say anything about tolerating her husband’s bad habits. I nonchalantly took a bite of a rib, then looked up at Eleanor White. Eleanor White seemed not to hear. Got it. Mom hadn’t said anything, which meant this was considered extra duty. I put down my chopsticks and wiped my mouth with a napkin. “Dad, I can’t change my name.” Nick White’s eyes bulged. “What did you say? Talking back the moment you walk through the door?” “Not talking back.” I put on an earnest expression. “While Rose Brooks might sound a bit old-fashioned, it’s the name my adoptive parents gave me. Even though they weren’t always kind, often scolding or hitting me, and making me feed pigs and work the fields, they still raised me for twenty-two years. If I change my name the moment I return, what will outsiders think? They’ll surely say the White family is arrogant, that I’m greedy and forgotten my roots.” I sighed. “I don’t care about being gossiped about. But Mom is different. Mom is a businesswoman, and White Enterprises needs its reputation. What if the media sensationalizes it as a wealthy family forcing their true heiress to change her name, erasing twenty years of nurturing? The stock price would crash, wouldn’t it?” I turned to Eleanor White, looking utterly concerned for her. “Mom, isn’t that right? Losing millions for a bit of false pride, it’s not worth it.” Nick White pointed at me. “You… you’re just twisting words! How does this involve the stock price?” “How isn’t it related?” I feigned surprise. “Netizens nowadays hate the rich. Dad, don’t you go online? Oh, right, you usually just drink tea and play golf, you don’t manage company affairs, so it’s normal you wouldn’t know.” “Enough.” Eleanor White finally spoke. “Rose has a point. A name is just a label, changing it is a hassle. Let’s stick with Rose, I think it’s fine, very down-to-earth.” Cassandra’s gaze at me had completely changed. I grinned at her, then picked up a lobster with cheese and put it in my mouth. This mansion food, it really was delicious. And this kind of ‘easy’ money in the mansion, some people found it hard to swallow. But I was different; I earned my keep, standing tall. After dinner, Eleanor White called me to her study. “You’re very smart,” she said. “Thank you for the compliment, Mom.” I stood dutifully before the desk, hands clasped. “Do you know why I brought you back?” “Because blood is thicker than water?” I asked tentatively. Eleanor White scoffed. “Because Cassandra Miller’s fiancé only recognizes the White bloodline. We need to marry into the Henderson family, and Cassandra is a fake, so the marriage won’t happen. But Cassandra is frail, she can’t handle the abuses of that Henderson heir. So…” “You’ll have to marry him in her place.” Well, I knew it! There’s no such thing as a free lunch. So this was the catch. A high-society arranged marriage, a spoiled rich kid, and a stand-in bride. Isn’t this just another lucrative contract? “I’ll need more money,” I blurted out. Eleanor White paused, then smiled. “Deal.” She pulled open a drawer and slid another card across the table. “This is an adWhite for your dowry. An additional five hundred thousand a month for emotional distress. As long as you handle the Henderson family, I’ll give you half of the White family fortune.” “Mom, you just watch me. Forget a rich kid, I could tame the devil himself.” 3. The next day at noon, to celebrate my return, several extended White relatives were invited for a meal. I didn’t hold back, ready to dig in the moment I sat down. But before I could even reach for my chopsticks, Nick White turned the freshly served dish of premium abalone in front of Cassandra. “Cassandra, you’re delicate, have more of this to nourish yourself.” The Lazy Susan spun a full circle, stopping in front of me with a plate of stir-fried kale. Nick White shot me a glance. “Rose, your stomach is used to simple food. Eating rich food suddenly might upset your digestion. Dad’s doing this for your own good, eat more greens, they’ll cleanse your system.” Cassandra looked troubled and said quietly, “Dad, isn’t this… a bit much? My sister just got back…” “What’s too much?” Nick White raised his voice. “A wild pig can’t appreciate fine grain. It would be a waste to give it to her.” Nick White, seeing that I said nothing, assumed I was intimidated, and became even more emboldened. He poured himself a glass of red wine, swirling it. “Speaking of which, our Cassandra truly has good fortune. Originally, the engagement to the Henderson family was for you, but thankfully you’re frail. That Julian Henderson, tsk tsk, who in the social circles doesn’t know him? Drinking, gambling, womanizing, he’s mastered it all. I heard he has a terrible temper too, he broke a young model’s leg last month.” He took a sip of wine and clapped Cassandra’s hand with a look of relief. “That kind of hellhole, only a thick-skinned country bumpkin is fit to jump into. It’s what they call ‘like finds like,’ trash with trash, a perfect match.” Cassandra’s tears were about to fall again. “Dad, don’t talk about my sister like that…” “Dad’s telling the truth!” Nick White grew more excited. “That kind of rich boy is a complete scoundrel. If it weren’t for that business deal, who in the White family would bother with him? Only an unsophisticated girl like Rose would treat him like a treasure.” I glanced at Eleanor White, who sat at the head of the table. Understood. The face my biological mother couldn’t tear, her biological daughter would tear for her. I stood up. Nick White, in the midst of his verbose tirade, was startled by my sudden movement. “What are you doing? Going to get more food? No manners at all…” I flashed him a brilliant smile. The next second, I gripped the edge of the marble table with both hands, drew a deep breath, and flipped it with a mighty heave. The entire table of abalone, bird’s nest, red wine, and white soup soared through the air in a less-than-graceful arc, then crashed heavily onto the floor. Oily abalone sauce splattered all over Nick White, instantly ruining his bespoke suit. “Ah…!” Cassandra shrieked, hiding in Nick White’s arms. Nick White was stunned, his pointing finger trembling. “You… you… you’ve gone mad! Are you crazy?!” I clapped the dust from my hands, my face righteous and indignant. “Dad! You’ve gone too far!” I pointed at the mess on the floor, my voice even louder than his. “Julian Henderson, who is he? He’s my future husband! He’s a crucial partner for our White family! Here you are, in front of all these people, publicly insulting the heir of Henderson Enterprises, calling him trash and a scoundrel! If this gets out, what if the Henderson family withdraws their investment? What if White Enterprises’ stock plummets? What if Mom’s hard work is ruined?!” I clutched my chest, heartbroken. “It’s fine if I, Rose Brooks, suffer a bit of injustice, even if you made me eat dirt, I’d accept it. But you can’t joke about our White family’s future just to elevate my sister! You’re undermining Mom’s efforts, you’re cutting off our family’s financial lifeline!” Nick White was so overwhelmed by my accusation that he gasped for breath. “You… you’re talking nonsense! I’m your father, what’s wrong with me saying a few words…” “You are my father, but you’re also the White family’s son-in-law!” I took a step forward, my presence commanding. “You’re eating the White family’s food and then smashing the White family’s pot! You’re just taking advantage and then badmouthing them! This kind of ungrateful behavior, I, Rose Brooks, won’t stand for it!” Nick White was trembling with rage, wanting to lunge at me, but he slipped on the oily mess on the floor and fell sprawling, face first. “Enough.” Eleanor White’s voice came at just the right moment. She set down her napkin, not even glancing at Nick White on the floor, merely sweeping her gaze towards me. “If you can’t eat, then don’t. Rose, Julian Henderson has scheduled a meeting this afternoon, go get ready.” I nodded obediently. “Alright, Mom, I’ll go right away. I’ll make sure to dress beautifully, not to embarrass our family, and certainly not to let that fifty million dollar dowry go to waste.” With that, I stepped over my groaning biological father and headed upstairs without a backward glance. Behind me, I faintly heard Eleanor White’s cold voice. “Clean up the floor. And from now on, anyone who dares to speak out of turn at the dinner table won’t eat.” 4. I met Julian Henderson at a private club. The lighting was dim, and the rumored playboy heir was slumped on a sofa, a cigarette between his left fingers, a drink in his right hand, three shirt buttons undone, and a look of utter impatience on his face. “Well, well, if it isn’t the… country bumpkin the Whites dug up?” “I heard you used to feed pigs in the countryside? What, do the Whites think I’m like a pig, so they specifically found a professional to take care of me?” The several hangers-on beside him burst into laughter. I wasn’t angry. I picked up an empty glass from the table and poured myself a drink. “Mr. Henderson, you jest. Feeding pigs means getting up early, mixing feed, and shoveling pig manure – it requires high-level skills. Taking care of you, however, is much simpler. As long as the money is right, you tell me to go east, I won’t go west. You tell me to swat a dog, I won’t chase a chicken.” Julian Henderson froze for a moment, apparently not expecting such bluntness from me. He sat up straight, about to speak, when the private room door was pushed open. A woman in a white long dress burst in. “Julian…” Her voice trembled, her eyes fixed solely on Julian Henderson. “Are you really going to marry this… this country woman?” Julian Henderson’s face instantly darkened. I raised an eyebrow. I knew this one. According to the information Eleanor White gave me, this was Julian Henderson’s ‘first love,’ Sienna Reed. She’d once ditched him, complaining he was irresponsible, and ran off with a jock. Now, hearing Julian was getting married, she’d reappeared, playing the role of the deeply devoted lover. Before Julian Henderson could even open his mouth, Sienna Reed had already rushed towards me. “Ms. Brooks, is it? I know you’re only marrying Julian for money. How much do you want to leave him? A million? Two million?” Two million? Who did she think I was? My current worth was in the hundreds of millions. “Ms. Reed.” I looked at her. “Please watch your words. I am Julian Henderson’s fiancée now, the future Mrs. Henderson, recognized by both our families. You come in here, throwing money around, aren’t you being a little disrespectful to my professional ethics?” Sienna Reed was stunned. “What professional ethics?” I stepped forward, blocking her path to Julian Henderson. “Taking care of Mr. Henderson is my profession. My client… oh, no, my fiancé is currently drinking and isn’t in a very good mood. You coming in here, crying and making a scene, and then trying to insult his judgment with money—are you disrupting my work environment, or are you questioning Mr. Henderson’s taste?” Sienna Reed’s face turned pale with anger. “You… how could someone like you be worthy of Julian! Julian and I have a history!” “A history?” I scoffed, glancing back at Julian Henderson, only to find him watching me with interest, showing no inclination to intervene. I turned back to Sienna Reed, unleashing my full verbal artillery. “Ms. Reed, this ‘history’ thing is too vague, it doesn’t hold its value. You claim you have a history, why did you run off in the first place? Now you’re back, did that jock get tired of you? Trying to come back for seconds? Sorry, but this ‘grass’ is already fenced off. Whether it’s tender or withered, it’s mine, and no one else is getting their hands on it!”

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The day Ted and I broke up, we tore each other apart, leaving no shred of dignity. He’d spat, “Selfish and cold, no wonder your family’s all gone.” I’d shot back, “A spineless wimp, a grown-up baby, destined for failure your entire life.” We were young then, our love and hatred equally fierce, our words like knives, seeking out each other’s weakest points to stab. Three years had flown by since then. He was successful, already a bestselling author. He had a new girlfriend by his side. And I… I had already been dead for three years. The Reaper asked if I had any wishes. I thought seriously, then politely inquired, “Could I be Cassandra Miller for a few days?” She was Ted’s current girlfriend, and his fiancée. I wanted to see for myself how he truly loved someone. 1. Perhaps my wish was too outrageous, for even the Reaper fell into a long silence. He asked me in a calm tone, “You ghosts, once you’re dead, you’re dead. Why do you always hold on?” I stared at my toes, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment at his words. It wasn’t like this at first. Three days before I died, I’d just had another huge fight with Ted. Over a trivial matter, and over countless past incidents. I’d pointed a finger at Ted’s nose and yelled, “Get out of my sight! Even if you crawl back on your knees like a dog this time, I won’t spare you another glance!” He’d sneered back, “Get out? I will. Eleanor Brooks. I’d rather be a dog than come back to a lunatic like you.” That very night, he packed his bags and moved out of our small rental home without a backward glance. Three days later, I suddenly craved hotpot. I texted Ted on my way to buy ingredients. “Hotpot tonight, what do you want to eat?” A few minutes later, my phone chimed. I immediately opened it. Against our intimate chat background, a line of cold white text appeared. Ted Bear: Talk to me when you’re dead. The next second, a large truck roared past, my phone flew from my hand, and the world spun. Pedestrians screamed in alarm, and I, ever curious, looked around. —Then I looked down and saw my own body. It wasn’t a pretty sight. A bit grotesque. The moment I realized I was dead, a strange sense of satisfaction surged through me. He’ll finally cry this time, I thought maliciously. I’d told him countless times not to talk about death all the time. Now look, he’d actually cursed me to my grave. I watched as my body was taken to the hospital by ambulance, then to the funeral home. The police informed Ted of my death. Silence lingered on the other end for a few seconds, then a slightly hoarse voice asked, “Is this some kind of joke?” He hung up immediately after. The second time the police called, he directly rejected it. It wasn’t until the police showed up at his door that he believed it wasn’t one of my pranks. He opened the door slightly, his eyes shadowed with lack of sleep, and politely declined the police’s request to identify the body. He said coldly, “We broke up. She has a half-brother; you should contact him.” A female officer who accompanied him said, “We’ve already contacted him. He’s also unwilling to come.” Hearing this, Ted raised an eyebrow, a mocking smile playing on his lips. “If even her own brother doesn’t want anything to do with her, why demand it of her ex-boyfriend?” With that, he slammed the door shut. I was so angry I nearly tumbled backward. That bastard didn’t shed a tear for me, and he wouldn’t even claim my body! We’d been together for five years, after all. Finally, with no one to claim the body, I was forcibly cremated by the funeral home. My soul returned to the Underworld. At that time, the Underworld’s reincarnation quotas weren’t as tight as they are now. I happened to get a spot but decided to give it to a little girl who had died of bone cancer. I didn’t want to be reincarnated. If I reincarnated, my memories would be wiped clean, and Eleanor Brooks would completely vanish from this world. Just as Ted had said, I was selfish, heartless, disloyal, and my tongue was as venomous as a black mamba. I wasn’t a good person. But I still wanted to wait a little longer. Wait for Ted to shed a single tear for me. 2. In the beginning, after I died, I didn’t really have any strong obsessions. I did think about Ted. But it was only to see him cry for me. Not to stage some sort of star-crossed human-ghost romance. Besides, the Underworld was strictly managed. Ghosts couldn’t go up, and living people couldn’t come down until their time came. Because of the annual decline in birth rates, reincarnation opportunities became scarce, and ghosts accumulated more and more. For everyone’s mental and physical health, the Underworld developed a software called “Soul Dance.” For a daily payment of ten million Netherworld coins, you could observe one hour of a living person’s life. This living person had to have been closely related to you when you were alive, and their private life would automatically be censored when it involved intimate details. In short, as long as you paid, you could choose anyone you wanted to watch – family, friends, mortal enemies… fully satisfying your voyeuristic desires. Back then, I used Soul Dance to spy on Ted for an hour every day. I knew that when a loved one dies, some people don’t immediately feel grief. In psychology, this is called emotional detachment, a self-protective mechanism of the brain. Ted might be like that. He might not have realized I was dead yet. That I would never infuriate him again, or argue with him, or complain about his dirty socks lying around, or unreasonably ask him why he didn’t pour me a hot drink when I had my period. It was okay, I could wait for him. I waited for him for half a year. Until he got a new girlfriend. His new girlfriend was very different from me. I was a programmer working nine to five, spending my days typing code in front of a computer. She was a member of a top national ballet company, tall and graceful, with a bright and elegant face. When she smiled, her eyes seemed to ripple with charm. She was also a fan of Ted’s books. She wouldn’t, like me, tell him every day that his writing was a pile of garbage. I watched them together, watched her make colorful, nutritious meals for Ted, watched her playfully coax Ted into taking walks with her. The smiles on Ted’s face gradually increased. He seemed like a completely different person, no longer the reclusive writer with zero self-care skills, whom I worried would starve to death at home if I went on a three-day business trip. He learned to do chores, noted her birthday and period in his planner, and even, at her casual mention of feeling unwell, proactively cut ties with an online friend he’d known for over a decade. —That’s when my obsession began to grow wildly. I couldn’t accept it. I hated it to death. Hated that after five years of dating, he’d found someone new just half a year after we broke up. Hated that after my death, he could nonchalantly start a new life, not shedding a single tear for me. And I hated even more that his new partner was so excellent and beautiful, with not a single resemblance to me. It was as if… Eleanor Brooks as a person had been completely negated by Ted. I was like a desperate gambler, clutching Soul Dance every day, desperately trying to find evidence that he didn’t truly love Cassandra Miller. Until I owed Soul Dance a huge sum of money and was kicked out, forced to work for the Reaper to pay off my debt. Only then did I honestly admit that Ted had indeed changed his heart. It wasn’t emotional detachment. It was just that he had stopped loving me a long time ago. After all, reality wasn’t a novel; no one would endlessly pine for a deceased ex. So, it seemed he hadn’t done anything wrong either. 3. The Reaper let out a long sigh, looking at me. A few days prior, the Underworld’s office system underwent a major overhaul, and I had worked overtime through the night to help him fix a critical bug, assisting twelve thousand ‘holdouts’ in their reincarnation. He owed me a favor. But I couldn’t exploit that. I hung my head even lower, saying in a small voice, “It’s okay if it’s not possible.” He said, “It’s not impossible…” “It’s just, out of the options for an Underworld civil servant, a permanent position in the Ministry of the Dead, or a good reincarnation, are you sure you want to choose this?” I said, “I’m sure.” I knew I was foolish, and I knew I had chosen the worst option. But what makes a person human is their inability to always remain rational. The Reaper nodded. He had seen too many lovesick souls, so he wasn’t surprised. He said, “Fill out an e-form, state the reason as ‘visiting family,’ and remember to cc the Head of Ox and Chief Horse.” “Once the e-form is approved, we will send a dream to Cassandra Miller. As long as she agrees, you can use her body to live in the mortal world for seven days.” …The entire process was so formal it felt absurd. My mouth tasted bitter, and I asked softly, “What if she doesn’t agree?” Such a bizarre and ridiculous request. The Reaper said, “Then you’ll just have to choose one of the three options above.” I returned to my dwelling. For three years in the Netherworld, I had lived by the River Styx, sharing a home with the ferrywoman. She was brewing her soup. Seeing my gloomy expression, she asked the reason, then offered comfort. “The human heart is very complex. From what I see, Ms. Miller might not refuse.” I asked, “Why?” She uttered a few words: “To make you completely give up hope.” The wind along the River Styx was exceptionally sharp, occasionally mingled with the wails of resentful souls. I remained silent, lowering my head to help her with the soup. Three days later, the Reaper’s secretary came to find me. “Cassandra Miller’s dance troupe is currently on tour in Norway. The boss wants me to give you access to study her behavior and mannerisms, so you don’t give yourself away the moment you take over.” I asked, “She agreed?” The secretary shook his head. “Don’t rush, the review officer is on leave. The dream-sending procedure is still ongoing, but you’ll definitely get an answer within two weeks.” I was used to it. The Underworld’s efficiency had always been low, otherwise, it wouldn’t have accumulated over a hundred thousand ‘holdout’ ghosts unable to reincarnate. I followed the secretary to the Rebirth Passage, watching him input a sequence number into his tablet. A sudden fear struck me. What was I doing? Why was I going to meet Ted as Cassandra Miller, turning myself into a clown? And even if I did meet him, what then? Would I confront him and yell at him, or would I sit down and finish that hotpot we never got to eat? I felt timid. I was about to tell the secretary I wanted to change my wish. Before I could open my mouth, he looked up and gently pushed my back. The world spun. When I opened my eyes again, the streets were pristine, traffic flowed slowly, and shop windows gleamed. Unfamiliar faces passed by me, speaking words I didn’t understand. Oslo, Norway. Cassandra Miller appeared clearly in my sight, no more than a meter away from me. 4. She was beautiful. Her hair was raven black, her eyelashes long, and two dimples graced her cheeks, promising a smile before she spoke. Her years of dance training gave her an exceptionally distinct aura. At this moment, she was wearing a bright red down jacket and a fluffy white hat, smiling and talking to her companions. I felt a moment of unreality. “Tomorrow, let’s try that Korean restaurant downtown, I heard it has really high ratings on Google Maps.” “We have another performance the day after tomorrow, aren’t you afraid of gaining weight?” “Oh, just a little bit!” They giggled as they passed by me, bringing with them a vibrant, living scent. It was as if an invisible thread pulled me, making me unconsciously move closer to Cassandra. “Cassandra, when we go back home next week, will your boyfriend pick you up?” Cassandra pursed her lips, a faint smile on her face. “He probably will.” One of her female friends teased, “Can you get the famous author to sign autographs for us then?” “Yes, yes, sign one for each of us! I’ll take it back and show off to everyone.” “Cassandra, I want a personalized autograph!” Cassandra readily agreed, “No problem, I’ll tell him.” I quietly followed behind them, my thoughts drifting back to the past. Back then, Ted had just earned his first royalty check. Not much money, two hundred dollars, enough for us to share a hotpot. We ate until our bellies were round, then stumbled unevenly through the snow-covered streets. As we walked, he suddenly crouched down, using his finger as a pen, and signed his name in the snow for me. His cheeks were red from the cold, but his eyes were bright, and he excitedly said, “Do you think when I become famous, people will fight for my autograph?” I vaguely said yes, pulled him up from the ground, and brushed the snow from his clothes. I told him, “When that happens, sign a bunch for me. I’ll sell them at the fish market.” He smiled and said, “Okay, I’ll sign a whole roomful for you, you can sell them slowly.” —Now Ted was truly famous. But that signature left in the snow had long since melted away. On the third night, Cassandra Miller’s final performance in Norway also concluded successfully. During the curtain call, she circled the stage like a little swan, then gracefully took a bow. The entire hall erupted in thunderous applause. That night, she made a video call to Ted. I didn’t dare listen. As a ghost, I hid on the balcony, staring blankly at the snowflakes softly falling outside. The secretary appeared beside me. “The procedures are complete. The dream will be sent tonight.” I asked him, “Can I change my wish?” He glanced at me, his voice cool as he asked, “Do you think the Underworld is your personal playground? That you can do whatever you want?” I meekly shut up. He didn’t rush off either, but sat beside me, watching the snow outside the window. He suddenly said, “Eleanor Brooks, you’ve become like a rabbit.” Docile, quiet, completely unaggressive. The old me wasn’t like this. Back then, I’d dared to smash a keyboard on my harassing boss’s head, dared to chase away hoodlums bullying Ted with a mop, dared to curse at malevolent ghosts teasing child spirits. But then Cassandra Miller appeared. She made me realize I wasn’t a swan. I was just a rabbit with dull fur, ugly, and utterly without merit. The snow stopped. The secretary stood up. He said, “Eleanor Brooks, I hope the next time we meet, you’ll be a little happier.” He vanished from the spot. I stood alone for a moment, then drifted back inside. That night, Cassandra Miller lay in bed, deeply asleep. Suddenly, her brow furrowed, and she abruptly opened her eyes. Though she couldn’t see me, her gaze landed precisely on the corner where I was. A very complex expression crossed her face. “I agree,” she whispered. 5. I had no idea why Cassandra Miller agreed. Was she a saint? Had she lost her mind? Why would she let her boyfriend’s dead ex-girlfriend possess her body to approach her boyfriend? Or was it just as the ferrywoman said, she wanted me to completely give up hope? Cassandra Miller seemed to have no intention of explaining to me. She probably already knew I was near her. In the days before returning home, she was talking to herself. She chattered about various precautions. “I don’t eat greasy or spicy food, and I only drink purified water.” “After this tour, I’ll have a month off when I get back. I don’t usually like going out, but I go to the practice studio every morning.” “I also have a dog named Lucky, I sent him to a kennel before I went abroad, remember to pick him up for me.” She paused, then added, “Recently, a younger guy has been pursuing me. Help me keep it a secret, don’t let Ted know.” “If he keeps texting, just ignore him. Give him the cold shoulder.” Me: … I boarded the plane home with her. And even took a moment to enjoy the empty first-class seat. After we landed, Cassandra Miller didn’t rush to get her luggage. Instead, she went to the restroom to wash her face and put on makeup. Today, she was wearing a white turtleneck sweater, and she was applying lipstick in front of the mirror. It was a very light shade, like sugared cherry blossoms. I was watching, mesmerized, when I suddenly heard her say, “Ted said he’d pick me up. He should be here by now, I think.” She sounded like she was talking to herself. After putting away her lipstick, she went to retrieve her checked luggage. I knew she was saying it for my benefit. My heart was a jumble of emotions, and I stood frozen for a while, until that invisible thread pulled me, and I listlessly floated behind her. We got the luggage, walked through the dense crowd, rounded a few corners, and crossed a long moving walkway. —Then we reached the exit. My heart pounded like a drum, and I instinctively held my breath. My eyes couldn’t help but scan the crowd of people waiting, yet I was terrified of seeing him the next second. Cassandra Miller was also looking around. Soon, pushing her suitcase, she strode purposefully towards a bubble tea shop on the side. A tall, lean man was waiting in line there. His back was to us, wearing a fitted black trench coat that accentuated his slender waist. She walked up and covered his eyes, giggling, “Guess who?” I stared at his back, my eyes wide. The man, with a hint of helplessness, turned around— In that instant, my soul felt as if it had been harshly tugged by an invisible force. The next second, a warm touch came from beneath my palm. He gently pulled my hand away, saying with a hint of indulgence, “Cassandra, stop messing around.” He called out someone else’s name. But it didn’t matter. After three years, his face appeared clearly before me once again. Deep-set eyes, a high bridge nose, skin as pale as snow, which would flush with a deep blush if kissed. Ted. I couldn’t help but tremble all over. He frowned slightly, released my wrist, and reached up to check the temperature of my neck. “Are you very cold? Why are you trembling?” I stared at him blankly, my throat feeling constricted, unable to utter a single word. I let him pull me away from the queue, and then he pressed a warm cup of bubble tea into my hand. He asked worriedly, “Cassandra, are you okay? Why aren’t you speaking?” “Didn’t you say the performance went smoothly?” I gazed at his face greedily. Although my eyes were sore and swollen, I couldn’t bear to look away. He had lost a lot of weight, and matured considerably. But overall, he was still the Ted I remembered. “I’m fine,” I finally found my voice, a catch in my throat. “How are you?” “Ted, are you okay?”

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It was the tenth year of the apocalypse. After countless brushes with death, I finally found my best friend, Ivy Chen, who had been separated from me for years. She had a very capable boyfriend, and their relationship seemed intimate. But then, I saw the comments appear. [Oh, look! The drama queen side character is finally going offline! She’s been clinging to the male lead, causing the main couple’s romance to stagnate. I’m so sick of it!] [Good riddance! She’s lazy and dramatic; people like her don’t deserve to live in the apocalypse.] [Who understands? I wanted to punch her when she forced the male lead to go out at night to find her a face mask…] [Once this cannon fodder best friend arrives, the drama queen side character will quarrel with the male lead multiple times for her, even almost getting the male lead killed. The male lead’s last bit of affection for her will be completely gone.] [Female lead, appear quickly! I love seeing strong, capable women!] The “drama queen side character” the comments were referring to was my best friend, Ivy Chen. And Ivy… she was eventually despised by her boyfriend and became zombie fodder. But, were they perhaps mistaken about something? I’m number one on the ability rankings, you know? No matter how dramatic my best friend is, I can protect her. 1. I was surrounded by zombies, my life hanging by a thread. And to make matters worse, someone was trying to exploit my weakened state to dig out my crystal core and steal my ability. I feigned unconsciousness. The moment the woman approached me, reaching out her hand, a blinding bolt of lightning erupted from my palm. In just one second, the woman ceased to breathe. I pushed her away, tossed her body downstairs to attract the zombies’ attention, then fled in a panic from the other side. … After half a month of escaping, I finally reached another safe zone. My ability was completely depleted, and my physical endurance had reached its limit. I collapsed on the road. In a daze, I heard a familiar voice. “Liam, look, someone’s there!” “Go save her, please! Hurry!” Such a familiar voice… “Ivy! Are you trying to get Liam killed? We just came to the outskirts for supplies! A zombie horde is coming, if we don’t leave now, we’ll all die!” “Exactly, Ivy, you need to pick your moments for drama!” “Liam, you’re really going?! No way… that woman looks dead.” Her companions seemed extremely displeased. I listened to the commotion, struggling to open my eyes. Because I’d heard a familiar name. Ivy. My best friend. I used my last ounce of strength to roll over, propping myself up to look. On the pedestrian bridge opposite, five or six people were watching me warily. The man leading them was well-built, with a strong presence; clearly, an ability user. But I didn’t have time to properly examine him, my gaze fixed solely on the woman nestled beside him. Compared to before, she was a bit darker, a bit thinner. But she wasn’t injured, and she was alive. A surge of immense joy burst within me. I wanted to call out to her, but the next second, I collapsed heavily to the ground, utterly exhausted. Before losing consciousness, I heard Ivy’s desperate shout. “Seraphina!” 2. They saved me. When I woke up, night had fallen. Ivy was hugging my neck, sobbing uncontrollably. “Oh, thank goodness you’re alive! Thank goodness!” I patted her back. Just as I was about to offer comfort, I suddenly saw those strange comments appear in mid-air. I read through the comments again and again, finally understanding the whole story. Apparently, we were in a post-apocalyptic romance novel. Ivy Chen was the “drama queen side character” they spoke of. Dramatic, lazy, and lacking common sense. And my appearance, as the “cannon fodder best friend,” would hasten Ivy’s inevitable demise. The male lead, Liam Thorne, would only feel guilt after Ivy’s death, leaving an emotional wound. This wound would be healed by the female lead. The comments kept scrolling. [I love seeing strong, capable women! The female lead and male lead are a match made in heaven, okay? One has lightning abilities, the other has water abilities. Used correctly, the power doubles!] [Yeah, and what’s even better is that the female lead has psychological trauma from accidentally killing a cannon fodder character. After they meet, they grow and heal together. This kind of storyline is so addictive!] [Female lead, please appear quickly, I really can’t stand this drama queen anymore.] Lightning abilities? I frowned. Like mine? 3. “Seraphina, why aren’t you saying anything?” Ivy, seeing no reaction from me, reached out and pinched my cheek. “Did you get too scared?” I snapped back to reality, looking at her face. Ivy smiled at me, tears in her eyes. That smile was still as pure as ever, just like before… My eyes felt a familiar sting, and I reached out and hugged her tightly. “No, I’m just… too happy.” … I’d always known Ivy had her flaws. Before the apocalypse, her family was well-off, and her parents pampered her like a princess. So she was inevitably a bit of a perfectionist. She liked to eat beautiful food, wear beautiful dresses, and make friends with everyone. Initially, I didn’t like her. Because I was dark-hearted; I envied her. I envied her looks, her family, everything about her. But one day, she walked over to my desk one afternoon. I looked up, bewildered, but she simply held out her hand to me. “Hi, Seraphina. Would you like to be my friend? I think you’re super cool.” Half an hour earlier, I had just been made to stand in the corner for an entire class for talking back to the teacher. She leaned in and whispered, “Actually, I hate Mr. Daniels too.” My heart was dark, and I didn’t dare openly say I disliked her. I just stayed silent. Ivy took my silence as agreement. She clapped her hands. “Great! We’re friends now!” I found her too delicate, crying red-eyed over minor bumps and scrapes. I found her too fussy, discarding anything with the slightest imperfection. I also found her tactless, constantly chattering noisily in my ear. I knew my place. I knew a rich girl like Ivy wouldn’t consider me a real friend… Until the second semester of junior high, when I had a car accident. I was an orphan to begin with, living with my aunt and uncle. When they learned I might never walk again, my aunt and uncle hesitated for a few days before deciding to give up on me and send me to a rural orphanage. At that time, I had lost all hope for life. But I never expected that the ray of light that shone back into my life would be Ivy. She came to visit me. Chattering ceaselessly in my ear. Finally, as she left, she said she would come to see me every day. She didn’t break her promise. For the next three months, she didn’t miss a single day. It was only later that I learned she had taken all the New Year’s money she had saved since childhood and used it to pay for my medical expenses. She argued with my aunt and uncle. Saying I was a human being and shouldn’t be casually discarded. Still so self-righteous… But I, however, began to find her fussiness and self-righteousness somewhat endearing. 4. Ivy and I truly became friends. It could be said that my indulgence and leniency were the main culprits behind Ivy’s dramatic and delicate nature. People who knew us would always say, “Seraphina, just keep spoiling Ivy like this. If she can’t find a partner later, are you planning to support her for life?” I buried myself in writing my business plan, not even looking up. “It’s not out of the question.” Ivy burst into laughter. “Hahahaha, you guys think you can drive a wedge between Seraphina and me? No way!” … My startup had just begun, the company hadn’t found its footing yet, when the apocalypse arrived… Ivy and I got separated while fleeing. I searched for her for a very, very long time. I never expected to see her again, now in the tenth year of the apocalypse. And those so-called comments told me. My best friend, Ivy Chen, was about to go offline. 5. I watched the comments without showing any outward signs of surprise. I pretended to be an ordinary person without abilities, settling down in this safe zone. I gradually came to understand Ivy’s situation. She and Liam truly loved each other, and Liam was willing to tolerate and accommodate her. But her personality and behavior still caused a lot of dissatisfaction among others… I had no doubt that if Liam ever got into trouble, or if he stopped loving Ivy, then Ivy wouldn’t be able to stay in this safe zone. As I pondered, I heard Ivy’s voice from ahead. “Liam, can you please give Seraphina an extra share of supplies? She’s so thin, she must have suffered a lot these past few years.” Ivy’s voice was low. “You know, I’ve been looking for her.” Liam looked a bit troubled. “The supplies we’ve given her are already more than others. Giving her another share might cause resentment.” The comments were cheering. [Exactly! Keep it up, side character, keep being dramatic.] [The male lead is already getting a bit impatient with the side character.] [I can’t wait to see the drama queen side character go offline!] [Agree!] [Same!] My face darkened, and I deliberately made some noise. Liam, hearing the sound, immediately looked over cautiously. Ivy also saw me. “Seraphina!” “Why did you come out?” She scanned me from head to toe. “Are you rested?” I smiled at her. “I’m fine.” On the other side, Liam nodded curtly at me, then turned and left. Liam was extremely proud. In ten years of the apocalypse, he had gradually grown to disdain ordinary people who couldn’t help with anything. Even though I was Ivy’s best friend, he still saw me as useless. After Liam left, Ivy comforted me. “Don’t be mad at him, that’s just how he is. I’ll teach him a lesson later!” Ivy pulled me along to tour the safe zone. She told me about her experiences these past few years. Then she badgered me with many questions. We sat on the bed, chatting late into the night. Ivy grew sleepy and rested her head on my shoulder, falling asleep. The comments were sarcastic. [The drama queen side character doesn’t even know her value is just to warm the male lead’s bed? Now she’s not even returning to the male lead’s room? Staying here with her best friend?] [I can only say she’s asking for trouble.] [I can’t wait for the female lead to come online!] [Here are two beautiful photos of the female lead to feast your eyes on, hehe.] I stared into the void, my gaze sharpening. The two pictures that popped up in the comments caught my attention. It was a girl with a delicate yet heroic face. But, she looked so familiar! 6. Just before going to sleep, I suddenly sat up with a jolt. I remembered where I had seen that girl… Half a month ago, a girl tried to steal my crystal core and my ability when I was weak. I killed her in self-defense. So, it was her. Was she the female lead? But I had already killed her… Before I could fully process it, a piercing alarm suddenly blared outside. Someone shouted, “Zombie horde! Ability users, prepare to engage! Unawakened, find cover!” Ivy woke with a start and grabbed my hand. “Seraphina, don’t be scared.” “Come with me, I’ll find Liam. He’ll protect us.” She pulled me off the bed… but I didn’t move. I gripped her wrist in return. Ivy looked back at me, confused. I looked into her eyes. “You follow me. I’ll protect you.” Ivy froze. But she didn’t have time to think much, only saying, “Let’s go to the underground mine first.” The zombie horde was coming with fierce momentum. Some zombies would cross the defenses and enter the safe zone. They had a certain level of intelligence, knew how to hide, so ability users needed to conduct a thorough search of the safe zone after repelling the horde. During this time, unawakened individuals generally hid in the underground mine. We rushed out of the room without stopping and ran towards the underground mine. Along the way were unawakened individuals like Ivy. Some were with their families, looking anxious but not overly panicked. After all, such events happened every few days, and with powerful ability users present, they weren’t too afraid. My heart, however, gradually sank. The unawakened in this safe zone trusted the ability users too much… I turned to look at Ivy, unable to help but frown. During this time, I had carefully observed her and Liam. I found that Ivy’s dramatic tendencies were all within Liam’s tacit approval. Some, in fact, were even intentionally indulged by Liam. Liam was good to her, and by extension, the unawakened in the entire safe zone received much better treatment, which then squeezed the benefits that ability users should have enjoyed. Those ability users felt discontent, but they wouldn’t resent all the unawakened or Liam. Instead, they directed their anger towards Ivy. And those unawakened wouldn’t thank Ivy; their gratitude went to Liam. So they supported Liam’s management of the safe zone even more, diligently planting vegetables and food, willingly providing supplies. Liam was using Ivy. Did Ivy… realize any of this? My grip on her wrist tightened. In a moment of distraction, an accident suddenly occurred. Just a second before we were about to enter the underground mine, a zombie that had been hiding in the shadows suddenly lunged out. It snarled and pounced on Ivy, who was frozen in terror, standing motionless. I yanked her wrist, pulling her back forcefully, and using the momentum, I stepped into the spot where she had just been. “Seraphina!” Ivy cried out in alarm. Before her words finished, I had already plunged a knife into the zombie’s eye socket, completely destroying its brain. 7. Inside the underground mine, Ivy kept looking at me, her eyes shining slightly. Her gaze made me chuckle wryly. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been surviving on my own for so many years; I still have some tricks to stay alive.” Ivy hugged me tightly. “Seraphina, you’re amazing! Seraphina… you’ve suffered so much these past years.” My heart softened, and I patted her back. I still hadn’t revealed my identity as an ability user. I had no doubt that once Liam discovered my ability, he wouldn’t easily let me leave here. And I needed to get Ivy out of here as soon as possible. Outside, the commotion continued. Ivy and I hid in the underground mine. I watched the rapidly scrolling comments above and began to think furiously. [Something’s wrong. The zombie horde is almost gone, how come the female lead hasn’t appeared yet?] [I’ve been waiting to see the female lead make a heroic entrance and save the male lead for so long! Where is she?] [Didn’t you guys notice what’s happening with the drama queen side character? Her cannon fodder best friend isn’t dead!] [What? So the drama queen side character won’t quarrel with the male lead? How come the entire subsequent plot is messed up?!] … Amidst their chattering discussions, I finally figured out the truth. In the original plot, the female lead successfully stole my ability, and I became a weak ordinary person, losing my powers. I miraculously survived and reunited with Ivy, but died in a zombie horde shortly after reaching the safe zone. As for the female lead, she used my lightning ability to help the male lead solve a small crisis during the zombie horde, was invited to join his team, and from then on, they fought side by side, their feelings gradually deepening. Ivy, distraught by my death, became unreasonable and blamed the male lead. She even deliberately left without a word, wanting the male lead to come looking for her. The male lead couldn’t stand her. When she acted out again, he didn’t go after her immediately. This time, Ivy didn’t make it back alive. The drama queen side character thus went offline. And I, was pure cannon fodder. But now… [The plot has changed! What’s going on?!] [Oh my god, oh my god! The author just announced that the plot has deviated severely, and she can no longer control the story’s direction. It seems a paper character has developed self-awareness!] [The person above, you missed the main point! The main point is the female lead is dead! The female lead is dead!!] [I’m numb. What is this? A super disastrous ending?] [This is so exciting! Now no one knows the plot’s direction. It’s like opening a blind box. I must keep following!] My heart pounded. I turned to look at a sleepy Ivy, my heart beating furiously in my chest. Could the meaning of those comments be… that our predetermined fate could be changed! Or rather, it already had changed! 8. I started to waver. I didn’t know if I should still take Ivy away now. Without the female lead… would Liam truly be devoted to Ivy? Would she be safer with Liam than with me? After all, I was alone. But what happened next solidified my decision to take Ivy away. … In the latter half of the night, the zombie horde was completely repelled. The ability users had also thoroughly searched the safe zone, confirming there was no danger. We walked out of the underground mine. And ran straight into the returning team of ability users. It was clear that the zombie horde that day had been fierce. Most of them looked battered, especially Liam. He was being supported by a man beside him, likely having exhausted his abilities. Ivy ran over, a little worried. “Liam, are you okay?” Her hands ran up and down Liam’s body, checking his injuries. Liam’s gaze at her gradually darkened. He cupped Ivy’s face and kissed her lips. The two embraced and kissed in front of everyone. Having survived a close call, I found it a bit distasteful but understandable. But gradually, the catcalls grew louder, especially from the men watching. And Liam’s actions became more and more unrestrained and bold. His hand moved to Ivy’s thigh, even attempting to go further… Ivy’s slight struggle caused her loosely worn jacket to slip to her shoulders. She was about to be exposed. I could see she was extremely uncomfortable, so I rushed out without hesitation, pulling Ivy out of Liam’s embrace, and the next second, I pulled her clothes back into place. Liam froze for a moment, not yet reacting, when he was slapped across the face. It was Ivy who slapped him. The crisp sound of the slap instantly froze the heated atmosphere. Everyone exchanged glances, and strong displeasure appeared on the faces of the ability users. “Damn it, Liam works so hard guarding the safe zone, only to come back and be slapped by a woman. This is too frustrating!” “I feel bad for Liam.” “This woman is too much…” Liam’s face also darkened. He looked at Ivy, a forced smile on his lips. “Are you mad?” “Alright,” he sighed. “My actions were too rough, I apologize.” His attitude was completely dismissive. Ivy’s eyes were red, she ignored him, turned and walked away. I followed her. After a few steps, I couldn’t help but stop again. Turning to look at Liam, my expression was somewhat cold. “You don’t respect her.” Liam paused, then let out an ambiguous scoff.

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After my father went bankrupt, he leveraged his past kindness to force a former scholarship student to marry me. We had a marriage of pure resentment, no love, just… technique. One evening, as I imperiously demanded he warm my feet again, a barrage of comments flashed before my eyes: [Seriously, this side character needs a reality check. Treating the male lead like a dog every single day.] [Useless rich girl, can’t do anything but blow the male lead’s money. When will he divorce her already?] [Just wait until the cool-headed, ambitious childhood friend heroine appears. This side character will throw such tantrums, and the male lead will finally be fed up.] [Later, the side character constantly targeted the heroine, was thrown out of the mansion by the male lead, ended up scavenging for food, and was eventually run over by a car. What a satisfying ending!] My outstretched foot snapped back instantly. I stared at David, who looked thoroughly annoyed. I swallowed hard. “I, I suddenly don’t feel cold anymore.” 1 David’s eyes were half-lidded, and he gave a slight, cynical tug at the corner of his mouth. “What is it now, princess? Is this your latest trick to torment me?” Heaven help me, was not making him warm my feet also a mistake? Normally, I would have already flown into a rage. But picturing my own miserable fate, I bit back the words that were desperate to escape. “No,” I managed. “I just… don’t feel well. I want to sleep.” David slowly opened his eyes, a flicker of surprise in their depths. He probably hadn’t expected me to be so agreeable, so considerate. His gaze lingered on my face. After a long moment, I thought he would simply lie down and go to sleep. Instead, he reached out and took my ankle, pulling me a little closer. His warm hand touched my skin, and I could feel the dampness of his palm. “Alright, enough games,” he murmured. “Next time, I’ll be gentler, okay?” What? With that, he placed my foot on his bare abdomen. The bedside lamp clicked off, but the comments above my head continued to blaze. [This drama queen has given the male lead PTSD.] [Honestly, if it weren’t for the side character’s dad leveraging his past favor, the male lead wouldn’t have to serve her like a dog.] [But it’s fine. Once the male lead sees through the side character, he’ll bring down her father’s new startup.] [And finally, her father will be hit by a car and die trying to save her. What a poetic ending!] My body gave an involuntary shiver, and I quickly rolled over, muttering an explanation. “It’s too… it’s uncomfortable to sleep like that.” David’s voice was unreadable. “You used to love it that way.” I pressed my lips together. “Not anymore. David, I won’t ever ask you to warm my feet again.” A moment of silence stretched between us. Then, I thought I heard a faint, dismissive chuckle. “Suit yourself.” 2 That night, sleep eluded me. David had been a scholarship student sponsored by my family since middle school. He was aloof, reserved, and quiet, yet incredibly brilliant. After high school, he moved into our house. He kept everyone at arm’s length, but with me, he was always compliant. Even when my father leveraged his past kindness to demand he marry me, David didn’t hesitate. I’d always believed I was special to him. But on the second day of our marriage, I overheard him confessing that he already had someone he liked, someone he’d planned to propose to, but now the opportunity was gone. Hearing that, my world crumbled. It turned out he didn’t love me at all; he was just repaying a debt. An inexplicable hatred welled up within me. I hated him for not telling me the truth. I hated him for being so obedient to my father. As I nursed my resentment, a startling realization hit me: I think I might have fallen for him first. But why should he not like me? Proud as I was, I channeled all my frustration into him. I ordered him around relentlessly. I wouldn’t eat unless he cooked for me. I spent his money extravagantly, even making him pay when I went shopping. And in bed, I ruthlessly drained him, refusing to leave a single drop for the woman he supposedly loved. After we were intimate, I’d make him carry me to the bathroom, and he’d have to wash me before I’d finally sleep. I thought this arrangement was perfectly fine. His body and his money were mine; I wasn’t losing anything. But now, I knew. I was just the villainous, demanding side character. I would push the male lead away, then oppose the heroine, only to face a tragic end. Even my father would be dragged down with me. But what had he done wrong? After my mother passed, he raised me alone, and forcing David to marry me was just his desperate hope that I’d be well cared for. Thinking of this, I made a decision: I would turn over a new leaf before the heroine appeared, securing a better ending for myself and my dear father. 3 I contacted a divorce lawyer. Since David was eventually going to divorce me anyway, I figured if I initiated it first, I might at least salvage a reputation for being understanding. Then, I hired an agency to find a housekeeper to cook dinner. My job wasn’t particularly demanding to begin with. In the past, I would text David constantly, even sending him photos of dogs fighting cats on the street. If he didn’t reply, or replied late, I’d throw a fit. But today, I held back. Even when I landed a huge custom jewelry order, so excited I wanted to jump for joy, I didn’t call him. The comments section was baffled. [Is the side character’s brain finally working? Not going to brag to the male lead?] [What? The evil rich girl is suddenly acting nice? What does this mean?] [This side character is cunning. She’s trying a reverse psychology trick to get the male lead’s attention, little does she know the male lead and heroine are about to reunite in a few days!] My finger paused. I exited David’s chat and sent a message to my dad. [Dad, I’ve booked the restaurant for tomorrow! Birthday boy, get my present ready!] Then I put my phone on silent and continued working on my designs. When I finally stretched and looked up, it was almost 8 PM. I packed up my things, ready to leave. My phone showed one missed call from David. He was like that; if I didn’t answer, he wouldn’t call again. There was also a single text message. [Is your phone broken?] What did that mean? Downstairs, David leaned against his car, smoking. Tall, with long legs, and an undeniable aura. I wondered how long he’d been waiting. The comments resurfaced. [See? The side character’s tricks are working! The male lead is here to serve her again.] [Just you wait, the male lead will definitely destroy her later!] I panicked. I rushed over. “Why are you here?” He extinguished his cigarette, glancing at me. “To pick you up.” He then opened the car door for me. As I leaned in, I saw a bouquet of flowers and the latest smartphone on the passenger seat. I looked at him. David said, casually, “Don’t you love these little everyday gestures?” In the past, I would have been thrilled, and then feigned indifference, saying, “About time you showed some sense.” But today, I just held the gifts in my arms and quietly said, “Thank you.” David froze for a moment. He pressed his lips together, saying nothing. I let out a silent sigh of relief. But in the car, he finally spoke. “What, you don’t like them?” My alarm bells rang. “I love them! Absolutely! Anything you give me, I love.” Which wasn’t true at all. I used to be so picky. But now, I dared not find fault. He stared at me intently for a while, then finally turned to start the engine. 4 After changing shoes in the entryway, David took off his jacket, then instinctively rolled up his shirt sleeves. He turned and asked casually, “What do you want for dinner tonight? And just so you know, no more Kung Pao Chicken.” He made that dish too well; I’d ordered it for a week straight. David was heading towards the kitchen, rattling off suggestions: “Your favorite shrimp pasta? Or red wine steak?” Before he could finish, the housekeeper, already in the kitchen, emerged with several dishes. He stopped dead. I quickly hurried to the housekeeper’s side and explained to him. “This is the new housekeeper I hired to cook dinner. You won’t need to cook for me anymore.” I fully expected David to be pleased. Instead, his gaze settled on me, his eyes unreadable. After a long moment, he coolly dropped a single word. “Oh.” Then, without another sound, he retreated to the bedroom. Before he disappeared, he said, “I’m not hungry. I’m quite full.” Naturally, I didn’t dare disturb him. That night, I consciously slept in the guest room. 5 Half-asleep in the middle of the night, I suddenly felt an intense heat behind me. When I finally registered what was happening, David’s gritted voice whispered in my ear. “Princess, do you no longer need my service?” My mind was still hazy, but the barrage of comments snapped me wide awake. [Is this my late-night reward?!] [People say they’re celibate online, but in reality, who wouldn’t be ripping their pants off right now?] [Wait, what is the male lead doing? Why is he looking for the side character?] [It’s just spring, don’t overthink it, side character. It’s just primal instinct.] A strange sensation bloomed at my waist. I instantly pushed David away. In the moonlight, his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly. If this were before, I might have slapped him. I was the spoiled princess, after all, incapable of enduring the slightest grievance. But now, it was different. David was the male lead, and according to the comments, he might hold my future life and death in his hands. Until the divorce, I should probably avoid offending him. I poked his shoulder, feigning annoyance. “I thought I was dreaming.” His expression softened slightly, then immediately tensed again. “So, in your dreams, who would ever treat you like this?” What? That’s a bit unreasonable, isn’t it? I couldn’t immediately find an excuse, so I changed the subject. I yawned. “I don’t know. I’m so sleepy.” Then, “Go to sleep. We have to work tomorrow.” I lay back down. David remained in his previous position. “Summer,” he said, “you’re acting strange.” My heart constricted. After learning he didn’t love me, I had laid down a rule for David. “No sleeping in separate rooms.” Even if I couldn’t have his heart, I would possess his body. In the beginning, we were both a little awkward. He was always in a hurry, entering me without warning, which made me so furious I’d kick him out of bed. “David, a man needs to have ‘service awareness’ in bed, do you understand?” Later, he changed, little by little. His foreplay became gentler, his technique more refined, and he learned to consider my feelings. Except during my period, we were almost always intimate. But tonight, I not only slept separately but also rejected his advances. In the darkness, I could still feel David’s gaze fixed on me. I nervously lowered my eyes. “I’m a bit tired tonight, not really in the mood.” “Because of work?” Yes and no. But for now, it had to be “yes.” “Mmm,” I hummed. “And I’m worried you’ll be tired too, David.” I added, “How about we just sleep here together tonight?” I suggested, speaking reasonably, without my usual spoiled demeanor, my tone softer than ever before. After a long pause, he lay down and pulled me into an embrace from behind. “If you encounter any difficulties with work, you can always come to me for help.” Before I could answer, the comments popped up. [The docile side character still depends on the male lead for everything.] [Without the male lead, Summer is truly nothing.] [Just wait, the heroine and male lead are childhood sweethearts, hardworking, resilient, and ambitious. Their story is so much better.] [The male lead’s gaze is destined to be drawn to the heroine. Thanks to the drama queen side character for planting the trees, the heroine gets to enjoy the shade.] For some reason, my heart felt like it had been pricked by a tiny needle, a faint ache spreading through me. David’s breath warmed my ear. I gently patted his hand. “Okay.” But then I subtly disentangled myself from his embrace. “I need to catch up on work tomorrow. I’m going to sleep now.” Behind me, his breathing hitched. 6 After a busy day, before leaving work, I remembered seeing Dad on a video call at lunch, still wearing his old tie. Although I’d already prepared his main birthday gift, I quickly rushed to the nearby mall to buy him an extra tie. Habitually, I reached for David’s card, then pulled my hand back, opening my own payment app. “Scan this, please.” As I came out, I unexpectedly bumped into someone. “Summer?” I turned, and Jayden was standing before me. He was as sunny and cheerful as ever, leaning in close. “Who’s the gift for?” “My dad’s birthday today.” “What a coincidence! I was just talking to your dad about a partnership a few days ago. Where are you celebrating tonight? Let me join you.” Jayden was sort of my childhood friend. His family had moved to another city due to his parents’ company project, so I hadn’t expected to see him again. He took my arm, and the conversation flowed easily. I had no reason to refuse, especially since our families might be collaborating in the future. After a few minutes of chatting, my phone buzzed with a message. [I’m off work.] [Where are you?] [I was about to come to your studio to pick you up.] [Want some boba? Room temp, no sugar? Any desserts? There’s a new trendy shop.] [If yes, just give a shout, I’ll go buy it.] The comments section was not pleased. [Enough, I said enough! Is the male lead addicted to being a dog?] [Don’t you think the male lead’s tone is really cold? That’s a sign of annoyance! Spending all day providing emotional support for the side character, he must be sick of it.] [So urgent, I am the King of Urgency. When will the male lead finally get rid of the drama queen side character?] [Let the side character keep ordering the male lead around. Anyway, it’s not my tragic ending.] My mind immediately jumped to my father. He was working so hard to give me a good life, and I didn’t want his efforts to be easily ruined. As long as I stopped acting out and making David angry, then if we broke up amicably later, he probably wouldn’t target my dad, right? So, I quickly replied: “I don’t need anything. You’ve worked hard, so no need to pick me up. Let’s just meet at the restaurant.” [Oh.] The tone was indeed cold. Just as the comments said, he was truly annoyed with me. When I pushed open the restaurant door with Jayden, David, who had been smiling and chatting with my dad, instantly sobered up. “Jayden’s here too?” “Yes, Mr. Davies! You didn’t even call me.” He handed over a gift. “Time was short, I hope you don’t mind.” It was a watch from the same brand as my tie. The clink of a spoon against a porcelain bowl echoed. My gaze flickered to David. His brows were furrowed, his emotions unreadable. “Apologies, I didn’t hold it steady.” The dinner passed relatively harmoniously. As we parted, Jayden smiled at me, his lips curving. “Your jewelry designs are quite unique, Summer. I’ll ask you to custom-order a ring for me sometime.” A business opportunity handed on a silver platter; I wouldn’t say no. I smiled back. “Sure.” Only David beside me remained with a dark expression. 7 Back home, the moment the door closed, he asked, “Did you buy the gift at the mall?” “Yeah.” I took off my jacket, and he took it from me, hanging it neatly. “My phone didn’t get a notification.” I paused, then realized what he meant. He was referring to why I hadn’t used his card. I waved my hand. “It’s just a small thing, no need to use your money for it.” “Oh. Is that so?” he replied. “You used to make me pay even for a hot dog from a street vendor.” That was then. I was a changed woman now. “Dad’s present,” I explained, “it means more if I buy it with my own hard-earned money.” I quickly added, “Ugh, I’m all sweaty, I need a shower.” David pressed his lips together, then turned and walked towards the walk-in closet, preparing my clothes. I saw the white lace underwear set on top and snatched it away, my face flushing. “I’ll do these things myself from now on.” In the steamy bathroom, I thought about the divorce lawyer I was meeting tomorrow. Thankfully, David and I had no children, so there’d be no lasting complications. Just as I was thinking this, the bathroom door opened. David stood there, clad only in a towel, revealing his taut abs, incredibly alluring in the soft light. He walked towards me, step by step, then raised his phone. The screen displayed an incoming call from Jayden. Before I could say anything, David scoffed. “He’s calling you this late?” His voice was cold. “Doesn’t he realize that at this hour, we’d be, you know, having couple time?” What? My eyes widened. The next second, he ended the call, then pinned me against the bathroom door, grabbing my chin and kissing me fiercely. David was different tonight. He was raw, untamed. The kiss was so intense I felt like I was suffocating, unable to resist. I instinctively tried to push him away, but he grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. His lips moved sensuously against mine, his voice hoarse. “Does the princess no longer wish to fulfill her marital duties with me?” What in the world was he talking about? Before I could speak, my mouth was covered again. Later, the bathroom was a wreck. I was so exhausted I didn’t even have the energy to wash myself. I vaguely remembered David carrying me back to bed. 8 The next day, when I woke up, David had already left for work. He had, as usual, prepared breakfast. Although I sensed he wasn’t entirely pleased about me hiring a housekeeper, he hadn’t fired her. Still, he started coming home earlier and earlier. When the housekeeper cooked, he’d still present a few dishes of his own, then sit across from me, watching. I’d try a bit of everything and gently advise him not to work so hard, that the professionals had it covered. I tried not to bother him with anything. But even with me being so considerate, his face grew darker by the day. “So, you don’t need me for anything anymore?” he’d grumble. So, I became even more cautious. That day, the client from my last commission asked to meet to discuss details. I set off with my sketches, not telling David. The meeting was at a private club. As soon as I sat down, the comments began to flash. [The heroine is being bullied in the private room next door, why isn’t the male lead here to save her yet?] [It’s weird, the male lead has already reunited with the heroine, but why isn’t their relationship progressing?] [Progress? That would be marital infidelity.] [Shut up, upstairs! The male lead was forced to marry the side character anyway. They have no feelings for each other.] [No feelings, yet they’re getting intimate every day? Laughable.] The comments flickered relentlessly. I ignored the ones mocking me; only one thought occupied my mind: David was about to perform a hero’s rescue. Even knowing this, my heart felt an inexplicable pang of sadness. I couldn’t help but push open my door and walk towards the room next door. [Tsk tsk tsk, the side character is going to ruin things again.] [It doesn’t matter. The male lead will ignore her completely, and even bump into her, focused only on saving the heroine.] [Then she’ll see the male lead rescue the heroine and her face will be twisted with rage.] I froze. I considered turning back. If they were destined, why should I intrude? But as soon as my foot shifted, the sound of breaking glass erupted from inside. [Where’s the male lead? Your childhood friend is being bullied!] [Don’t worry, the male lead has psychic powers. He’ll rush down from upstairs any second now.] Fine. Let David save her. But time ticked by, second after second, and there was no sign of him in the hallway. Through the door crack, I saw the heroine, dressed in a server uniform, being harassed by some entitled rich kid, Todd. “You can’t afford to pay for this outfit, you know.” “How about you take off one item of clothing for every thousand dollars?” “Or maybe spend a night with me, how about that?” Laughter erupted from the group. The heroine clutched her clothes tightly, but still defiantly looked up. “I didn’t knock over the drink. You can’t bully me like this.” “She said I’m bullying her, ha ha ha.” Todd stood up and lifted her chin. “Do you even know what bullying is? Huh?” Disgusting. Absolutely disgusting. I couldn’t take it anymore! I kicked open the door. “Todd, what kind of strength is it to gang up on a girl?” The room fell silent for a moment. All eyes turned to me, including the heroine’s. I saw her eyes suddenly light up. She looked familiar. Todd scoffed. “Summer Davies, what business is it of yours?” He added, “You think your family is still like it used to be? No one would give you the time of day if you hadn’t married a rich husband.” I used to hate him. In school, he often bothered David, and I beat him up many times. “What’s ‘my family’ or ‘your family’ got to do with it? I, Summer Davies, do what I please.” I slowly rolled up my sleeves. “What are you, a nobody, to dare shout at me like that? Have you forgotten how I used to pin you to the ground and beat you until you cried and begged me to stop?” The comments scrolled furiously: [Holy crap, the side character went full alpha?!] [Suddenly, the side character seems kinda cool.] I pointed at the heroine. “She’s with me. Are you sure you want to mess with her?” Maybe it was my strong aura, but Todd instinctively took half a step back. “I… you f**king…” He dared not. “Coward.” I walked over, took the heroine’s hand, and led her to the door. The door closed, leaving only Todd in the room, raging impotently. The heroine looked at me, her face flushed. “Thank you, Summer.” I raised an eyebrow. “You know me?” 9 In the lounge area, a gust of wind seemed to blow through. Before I could fully process it, David was standing before me, pulling me to and fro, checking me over. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice urgent. “Are you hurt?” I was completely bewildered. “I’m fine, why?” “Did Todd bully you?” I shook my head, pulling the heroine forward to face him. “He bullied her.” David seemed to finally come to his senses, his gaze falling on the heroine. “Celeste?” Celeste didn’t seem particularly eager to engage with him. She just gave a casual “Mmm.” Then she turned back to me, her eyes curving into a smile. “I’m going back to work, Summer. I’ll treat you to dinner next time, okay?” After she left, the comments finally reappeared: [Why do I feel like the heroine doesn’t really like the male lead?] [That’s exactly right, childhood sweethearts are always like that.] [And the less the heroine cares about the male lead, the more intrigued he’ll be, right? He’s staring at her back now, isn’t he?] I glanced sideways. David was indeed looking at Celeste’s retreating figure, lost in thought. Sure enough, his gaze would eventually be drawn to the heroine. I inwardly scoffed at myself. Summer, you really outdid yourself, saving your love rival even though you’re supposed to be the villainess. Trying to swallow the bitterness, I pulled my hand away. “David, you’re hurting my hand.” He came to, “What are you doing here?” “Working.” Just then, the wealthy client I was meeting arrived. I didn’t look at his expression, turning to greet her instead.

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I was a spoiled princess, and after marrying a cold, stoic man I didn’t love, I gave birth to a mini stoic. Even when our son turned five, I continued to boss them around, ruling the household with an iron fist. I loved seeing their looks of annoyance while they still had to cater to my every whim. Until one day, comments started to float across my vision. [The wicked side character is finally getting phased out. The heroine has transferred to the male lead’s company and even took the little one to KFC today. The story is finally getting on track!] [Constantly tormenting our male lead and the little one. Good thing the father and son will eventually kick her out to appease the heroine. The pampered socialite will end up paralyzed from the waist down after being hit by a car on the street.] [The thought of the male lead’s happy family of three mocking her as a cripple in the hospital fills me with pure satisfaction.] I abruptly lifted my leg. My husband, who was washing my feet, and my son, who was dutifully massaging my legs, were both splashed in the face with water. The brows of the two stoic faces, one big and one small, instantly furrowed. I stammered. “No, no need, I’ll do it myself…” 1 Young Richard frowned, his small mind clearly struggling to understand why I was so unpredictable. “Mommy, is the water too hot?” I awkwardly put my foot back into the basin. “No, I’m done washing, no need to massage anymore, you can stand up.” I swallowed, then glanced at my husband, Chandler, who was also kneeling on one knee beside me. “You too, get up.” Compared to Richard, Chandler was much more composed. He seemed accustomed to my sudden changes in temperament. He calmly stood up to grab a towel. [The more humiliated the male lead and little one are now, the more satisfying it will be when they get their revenge on the side character.] [Making the little prince massage her legs, and the billionaire CEO wash and dry her feet? She really has a death wish.] I silently watched the scrolling text. So, I was the villainous side character, and my husband and son were the male lead and male child lead of this world. Not only did I have to make way for the heroine, but Richard existed because the author was worried the heroine would suffer childbirth pain, so they arranged for me, the side character, to have him first. In the end, the beautiful heroine would appear, inheriting my husband and son, saving them, and showing them that there was a kind woman other than me. The happy family of three would live happily ever after. I clenched my fists. Chandler, fine. We were an arranged marriage, no real emotional foundation. But Richard… I looked at the little boy standing obediently nearby. Although he had a face identical to his father’s, he was still my son, literally from my womb. I wasn’t about to hand him over to someone else. So, I cleared my throat twice and asked him. “Sweetie, if Daddy and Mommy got divorced, who would you go with?” Richard froze, then his little brow furrowed again. Mimicking his father, he spoke coldly. “Mommy, don’t make such meaningless hypotheticals.” I was choked by his reply, looking up to meet Chandler’s cool, amber eyes. They seemed like still, calm water. He stepped forward, knelt on one knee, and lifted my foot from the basin. “Don’t say such things in front of the child…” Richard nodded, like a miniature adult, and turned to walk out the door. “I’m going back to sleep.” The comments were filled with laughter. [What is this side character thinking? Both father and son are cut from the same cloth, so their level of annoyance with her is obviously the same.] [Chandler can still fake it a bit, but little Richard practically has ‘disgust’ carved on his face.] [LOL, never mind she can’t bear to divorce, even if she did, little Richard wouldn’t go with her. Why would he? To serve her like her dog?] [Her sole purpose is to cause chaos, get abandoned, and then suffer a tragic death by broken legs to achieve the ‘satisfying’ plot effect.] My heart gave a violent lurch. Without a word, I snatched the towel from Chandler’s hand. “I’ll do it myself.” Chandler’s brow subtly furrowed, but he said nothing in the end. Lying in bed, I tried to process the information from the comments. I lifted my silk robe, staring at my long, fair legs. They were so long, so perfectly proportioned—I couldn’t accept losing them later! After much deliberation, I decided to first change how I treated my husband and son. According to the comments, I couldn’t stop the male and female leads from meeting. Even if I convinced Chandler to fire the heroine, they would just meet at the next street corner. But if my son saw me as a gentle mother, maybe when Chandler and I divorced, he would choose me. 2 Thinking this, I looked up and saw Chandler emerging from the bathroom. He had only a towel wrapped around his waist, and un-wiped water droplets slowly tracked down his chest. When he saw me lying on the bed with my robe lifted, revealing my legs, his movement of wiping his hair paused, and his pupils immediately darkened. I was still pondering how to be a considerate, good mother. I looked up again and saw Chandler had already retrieved the “battle attire” I had once bought for him from the closet. In his left hand, he held black and white lace; in his right, purple lace. His ear tips were slightly red, and he stared at me with a wooden expression, as if seeking my opinion. The comments section went wild with screams. [Why is the screen black?! Is there something my esteemed VIP member isn’t allowed to see?] [Side character, I won’t scold you anymore. Just turn on the camera and let everyone admire your husband’s big chest muscles.] [Claire, let your husband be everyone’s plaything, build some good karma, quickly turn on the camera and let us see the goods.] Amidst a sea of yellow duck avatars, a few original fans chimed in. [I can’t accept this. Even knowing how little Richard came to be, I still feel the male lead was coerced. Does the side character not see her husband’s perpetually cold face every time he’s intimate with her?] [I agree. The male lead clearly refused the first time, but she keeps forcing him to wear those things to satisfy her weird fetish. It’s disgusting.] [It’s fine, just thinking that the legs currently straddling the male lead will soon be gone makes me feel less angry.] I took a deep breath, watching Chandler about to change, and quickly pulled the duvet over my legs. “I… I’m not in the mood today. Let’s just go to sleep early!” After I said that, the air in the entire room seemed to freeze. The comments cheered. [Oh, it’s daylight now.] [The male lead’s face doesn’t look too good. What did the side character do now?] [What else? She forced him to wear those clothes and got rejected. Look at the male lead’s knuckles, white from clenching the lace garment. Enduring humiliation…] I also noticed Chandler’s face was uncharacteristically dark. Especially after I said “not in the mood,” his face visibly darkened by more than two shades. It was true that Chandler used to be reluctant to change clothes, and I’d have to coax and trick him. Now, seeing the furious comments, I didn’t even dare to breathe too loudly. “Understood,” Chandler’s voice, like himself, was cool and detached. He casually tossed the clothes into the wardrobe, then pulled back the covers and lay down. I pinched my leg under the duvet, letting out a long sigh of relief. Good, they were safe. Love you, old legs, see you tomorrow. 3 I woke up the next day to bright daylight. Stepping out of my room, I saw the father and son sitting in the living room. As soon as I sat down, Chandler rose to get me toast from the kitchen. Richard, huffing and puffing, carried a carton of milk towards me, stepping onto a stool to pour it for me. The comments were once again complaining. [The side character truly deserves her end. With so many nannies in the house, she insists on the male lead and little one serving her. She’s just asking for trouble.] [Exactly, saying she wants little Richard to develop good service habits so he won’t be disliked when he marries into another family. Does the little prince need to marry into another family?] [And she claims she wants the male lead to set a good example for his son. I think she just wants to torment them and satisfy her control issues.] My brow twitched violently. I reached out and grabbed Richard’s small arm. Richard looked up at me, bewildered. “This time I put in one and a half spoonfuls of sugar,” he said. I took the milk, poured it into a glass myself, and gulped down a couple of mouthfuls. “Mommy can do these small things herself. You hurry up and eat.” Richard stared at me, seemingly unable to understand why I was acting so strangely. But he turned and sat back in his seat. Chandler emerged from the kitchen, looking a bit troubled. “We’re out of salad dressing. I’ve already sent Aunt Mae to buy some…” I picked up a sandwich. “It’s fine, I can eat it without salad dressing.” The air fell silent, even the housekeeper looked at me with some surprise. Chandler looked at his empty palm, his brows furrowing deeper and deeper. “Mommy, you actually didn’t throw the sandwich at Daddy’s face…” Richard blinked. I took a deep breath. Was I really that awful before? The comments had already answered for me. [Why did the side character suddenly change? Isn’t she known for her terrible morning temper? Last time there was no salad dressing, she threw a tantrum and threw the sandwich directly.] [Look how scared our little Richard is, even his cool expression can’t hold up. He probably thinks his mom is possessed.] I took a bite of my sandwich, too guilty to look at the comments anymore. A small piece of lettuce slipped out and fell straight onto my thigh. Seeing my stained loungewear, I instinctively frowned slightly. A tissue gently covered my leg, followed by a finely-boned hand entering my vision. Chandler’s hand was large, almost covering my entire thigh. My pupils suddenly contracted sharply, as if I saw my beautiful legs become invisible and transparent, then sprout wings and wave goodbye to me. I quickly shook off the lettuce, then looked up, only to meet Chandler’s cool eyes. “I can do these small things myself.” I forced a smile, then turned to my son. “From now on, you don’t need to massage my legs or pour milk for me. Mommy can do it herself.” Richard’s brows knitted together tightly, his voice cold. “Mommy, are you sick?” I choked. This child, I’m nice to him and he thinks I’m sick. Through the meal, I remained quiet, not making a fuss or asking anyone to bring me tissues or pour milk. Richard looked up at me several times, his little brow furrowing deeper each time. Chandler’s gaze subtly drifted over me, then slowly moved away. It wasn’t until Chandler took Richard and left the house that I sank heavily onto the sofa. Looking at the oversized wedding photo hanging in the center of the room, I rubbed my temples. Actually, I had a crush on Chandler before our arranged marriage. But he was an absolute ice king; all my girlfriends who tried to pursue him failed. I had my own pride; I wasn’t one to chase after people, especially such a formidable ice king. Just as that tiny spark of affection for Chandler was about to be extinguished in its cradle, our families’ arranged marriage bound us together. I still remember how, right after we got married, I couldn’t contain my inner joy, only to overhear his conversation with a friend outside his study. “Claire is notorious in our circle for being spoiled. You’re really unlucky.” Chandler’s voice was faint. I heard him say, “We both get what we need. That’s what an arranged marriage is for.” The tiny, budding flame of hope was completely extinguished. After only a few months of pretending to be sweet for the man I loved, I gave up entirely, letting my true self show in a defiant surrender. Anyway, as he said, we both got what we needed. From large appliances and furniture to small rugs, I had everything decorated exactly to my taste. Chandler never interfered. Only for this huge wedding photo, when I wanted to hang it in the center of the living room, he frowned slightly. “It doesn’t match here. It’s ugly.” I was fuming at the time, thinking he didn’t dislike the wedding photo; he disliked me. But Chandler’s aloof nature also made him incredibly tolerant. So I became even more outrageous, starting to order him around to do this and that for me. I forced him to wear clothes he didn’t like, purely to satisfy myself. Chandler sometimes showed displeasure, but his way of expressing it was only a slight furrow of his brow. Chandler looked very handsome when he frowned. He was already as handsome as a celestial being. I loved watching him frown; it was as if a cool, otherworldly immortal from a painting had come to life, and the serene portrait finally gained a different expression. Over the years, because he indulged and permitted everything I did, I sometimes even had the illusion that he loved me. But looking at that stoic face, his expression towards the nanny and towards me was indistinguishable, and I knew it was just my ovulation period again, making me imagine things. “Aunt Mae, find someone to take down this photo.” I raised my hand and pointed at the huge wedding photo. This was hung up by a girl full of joy and fantasy for Chandler right after we got married. Six years later, the girl had slowly come to realize that in Chandler’s eyes, I was no different from anyone else. Actually, I could accept a loveless marriage, but the comments constantly acted like a surveillance camera, livestreaming what the male and female leads were doing right now, making me inexplicably irritated. [The heroine poured the male lead coffee, and the male lead looked up at her! I’m dying from the cuteness!] [The heroine made a mistake in the document and didn’t even notice. What a silly little thing! The male lead will be charmed by her later, right~] I closed my eyes, deciding to take a nap. When I opened them again, thunder rumbled outside, and rain poured down. 4 My phone vibrated. It was Chandler. “Fell asleep in the living room?” His voice was faint. I hummed in affirmation. After two seconds of deliberation, he spoke. “I have to work late today. If it gets too late, I won’t come home. Richard can sleep with you tonight.” Before I could agree, the comments flew by. [The male lead is indeed working late, but our heroine is also at the company, oh. Only a few NPCs and the male and female leads are left in the company on a rainy day. Just thinking about it is so romantic.] [I love seeing this kind of power couple. The male lead is a cool workaholic CEO, and the heroine is also an ambitious career woman, nothing like some delicate trophy wife.] [Exactly, afraid of a little thunder, needs someone to stay with her. If her husband’s not around, she makes her son stay. Is she a giant baby?] Called a giant baby, I let out a deep sigh. “No need. You just focus on your work…” Before I could finish, I looked up and saw Richard standing not far away. His little face was set, and I didn’t know how much he had heard standing at the door. As I looked up, the camera also shifted for two seconds. My son said nothing, quietly took off his backpack, and walked into the house. Chandler, however, spoke. “The wall behind you…” I turned my head and saw that, while I was sleeping, the wedding photo had indeed been taken down. “Where’s the photo?” he asked. I answered truthfully. “I had someone throw it out. You focus on your overtime, I’m hanging up.” Chandler said nothing, his face suddenly turning dark, but I didn’t notice at all, frowning and thinking about the empty wall. I should probably hang something there to fill it; it looked quite ugly empty. After dinner, the thunder outside still hadn’t stopped. I rubbed my aching eyes. When I opened them again, a small boy holding a storybook stood solemnly before me. “Come on, I’ll put you to sleep.” Actually, I wasn’t really that afraid of thunder; I just disliked such oppressive weather. So every time it thundered, I’d be in a bad mood, finding ways to torment Chandler in bed. [The side character is so annoying. Five-year-old Richard has to put her to sleep. It’s completely backwards.] [And she has no self-awareness. Richard’s face is practically screaming ‘disgust’. If she can’t torment her husband who’s working late, she starts tormenting her son. Why can’t the male and female leads’ romance speed up?] I looked at Richard, the little boy expressionless, his face as wooden as his dad’s. “No need, Mommy can sleep by herself.” I waved my hand to refuse. Richard bit his lip, seemingly a little upset. “But Daddy said I should stay with you.” I felt a slight headache. Before I could say anything else, a car horn suddenly blared from the courtyard. I froze, and the comments section was equally baffled. [Why is the male lead back? What about the heroine?] 5 Richard, clutching his storybook, looked like he’d found a savior. He eagerly ran to his father, took his hand, and gravely complained, “Mommy wouldn’t let me stay with her.” Chandler nodded. Even facing his son, his expression hadn’t softened. The screen full of question marks made me a little confused too. “You… why are you back?” Chandler didn’t answer, looking up at the empty wall where the photo used to be, his eyes darkening further. “Didn’t you say it was ugly? So I took it down…” I explained, feeling a little awkward under his intense gaze. But the comments detected a different vibe. [Does the male lead really only feel disgust for the side character, like the original novel says? I feel like something’s off.] [Of course! Didn’t you see how dark the male lead’s face is? He must have realized his son couldn’t handle this drama queen, so he rushed back to prevent her from tormenting little Richard.] [He does look impatient.] Chandler patted his son’s head. “Go to sleep.” Richard blinked, then turned his gaze to me. “No leg massage tonight either, Mommy?” I waved my hands frantically. “No, no need.” Richard pouted, tears seeming to well up in his eyes. Then he immediately put on a serious face again, asking stubbornly, “No shoulders either?” I nodded vigorously. Richard puffed out his cheeks and turned to go back to his room. Chandler reached up and tugged at his tie, his expression clouded with deep frustration. “Bad mood lately?” I was completely bewildered. “No, I’ve been in a pretty good mood lately.” The air was silent for two seconds. He took a deep breath, nodded. The rain outside drizzled, and the comments scrolled relentlessly. [The male lead just abandoned the heroine and went home. How is the plot going to progress?] [Don’t worry, even when they’re not together, the bond between the male and female leads won’t disappear. Their red thread of fate is stronger than steel.] Almost as soon as that comment finished scrolling, Chandler’s phone on the bedside table vibrated. Listening to the rushing water from the bathroom, I picked up Chandler’s phone to remind him. “Your phone.” 5 The comments section was amused. [What did I say? The heroine is calling right now, isn’t she?] [The side character wouldn’t actually answer, would she? Does she have no respect for other people’s privacy? So disgusting.] [Don’t worry, upstairs. Even if she answers, it will only make the male lead dislike her more. She’s answered before. In the original novel, one time she not only secretly answered but also cursed out the heroine, and the male lead snatched the phone and smashed it to bits. So embarrassing.] At the same time, Chandler’s voice came from the bathroom. “Answer it for me, ask what it is.” I threw the phone back as if it were a hot potato. “You come out and answer it yourself.” The sound of water in the bathroom abruptly stopped. Then, Chandler emerged, his head covered in foam. He first cast a heavy gaze at me, then lowered his head and picked up the phone. The moment the call connected, a clear female voice rang out from the other end. “Mr. Davies, I sent you two proposals, but you didn’t reply…” In the quiet room, the woman’s voice on the other end was exceptionally clear. Chandler said nothing, his gaze fixed on my face, as if waiting for something. I felt incredibly awkward. Why was his speaker so loud? The comments section was thrilled. [Is the side character about to throw another fit? Before, whenever the male lead answered a call from another woman, she’d get angry. One time, she even scratched his face.] [Only the male lead can tolerate her spoiled temper. But every time she acts unreasonably, the male lead’s disgust for her increases, further highlighting our darling heroine’s gentle kindness, and making him feel even less pity for her when her legs are broken later.] The mention of “broken legs” now triggered a strong reaction in me. Unable to help it, I broke into a violent fit of coughing. I coughed and stood up, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m going to… cough cough cough… take a shower.” My arm was grabbed. Chandler took a deep breath, seemingly trying desperately to suppress something, then emotionlessly hung up the phone. “It’s after hours. We can discuss it tomorrow.” Then, he looked up at me. “A woman called me privately. Aren’t you angry?” The air was silent. Chandler stared at me for a long time, then released me. That night, the restless movements beside me continued until after midnight. The comments kept flashing before my eyes. [The male lead must regret it. He’s probably tearing his hair out, wondering why he’s not at the company with the heroine, but sleeping beside this side character?] [I feel like the side character is pretty pathetic too, sleeping next to someone who’s having an emotional affair, and she’s just like an idiot.] Me, described as an idiot: … I clenched my fists. It’s fine, I’ll endure it. As long as my son agrees to leave with me, I’ll immediately tell Chandler I want a divorce. I wish him happiness forever.

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For fifteen years, I poured my blood, sweat, and tears into building a business empire from nothing with Robert. I thought our happily-ever-after was finally here. Instead, on the eve of our company’s IPO, I discovered he had secretly married another woman. While he gaslit me into staying “simple” and frugal, he was dripping his pregnant new wife in diamonds and luxury properties bought with my hard-earned money. He thought I would quietly step aside, or that I loved the company too much to destroy it. He thought my fifteen years of sacrifice made me weak. He was wrong. I won’t be the tragic, discarded woman. If Robert thinks he can build his perfect new family on the foundation of my life’s work and walk away unscathed, he’s dead wrong. I am taking everything back. I will gladly burn down the very empire I almost died building, just to watch his deceitful dreams turn to ash. 1 “Audrey.” The woman’s perfectly manicured finger rested on the “Robert Sterling” line of the marriage certificate, her tone dismissive. “You have no right to be here, and even less right to put on airs in front of me, do you understand?” The woman held the marriage certificate like a trophy, standing there like a delicate display doll. I recognized the bracelet on her wrist. Robert and I had bid for it together at an auction last month. He’d said it was for our fifteen-year anniversary. But the day before our anniversary, Robert had frantically told me the bracelet was missing. His eyes were filled with guilt, so much so that they’d reddened as he told me, “Honey, I promise I’ll get you something even better.” He’d caressed the calluses on my hand, tears of regret falling. “You’ve suffered so much with me all these years. Once the company goes public, we’ll finally get married, okay?” “Honey,” Robert had said, embracing me, “I want to marry you. I want us to have a home.” And I believed him. I thought Robert and I were finally going to take that step. I thought these years with him, building something from nothing, had been worth it. That I had turned in a satisfying answer sheet for my life, and we would simply live out our days. Now. I looked at the tiny diamonds on the bracelet, sparkling. They felt like countless needles piercing my heart, making it ache so much I could barely stand. Yet, I forced myself to maintain my composure. “So what?” I snatched the marriage certificate from the woman’s hand, looking at the bride’s name: “Sarah Miller.” I met her perfectly made-up face and her visibly startled expression, and I smiled. “Are you trying to tell me that after fifteen years with Robert, it’s finally my turn to step aside and let you live a good life?” “Sarah,” I said, tracing her photo on the certificate, “do you really think I’d hand over all the hard work and dedication I’ve poured into these years?” I watched Sarah clearly panic, rushing forward to snatch back the certificate, but I dodged. She stumbled, hitting a cabinet, and let out a sharp cry. “Audrey!” “Are you insane?!” I watched as Sarah finally dropped her pretense, yelling at me. “Are you really going to try and ruin my relationship with Robert, to be an illegitimate mistress?!” “Audrey!” “Have you no shame?!” Before Sarah could lunge at me, I calmly took out my phone, snapped a picture of the marriage certificate, and quickly sent it to Robert. “Robert Sterling.” I texted. “I hear you’re married. Why wasn’t I invited to the wedding?” “Audrey!” “Honey!” The call connected. Robert’s voice echoed through the living room. “I can explain!” “It’s all a misunderstanding!” “Honey!” A commotion came from Robert’s end, followed by the sound of a car door closing. “I’m coming to you now. Don’t worry. We can talk about everything when I get there.” Robert kept talking. Sarah, however, was furious. She started screaming into the phone. “Robert Sterling! Whose husband are you?! Whose side are you on?!” Sarah’s hysterical voice resonated through the living room. I looked around the apartment again. It was decorated warmly, with pink-hued curtains, cream-colored sofas, and an entire wall of blind-box display shelves. Even the refrigerator was adorned with tiny lucky charms and couplets. The blue cartoon slippers by the shoe rack clearly matched the pair on Sarah’s feet. Even the plain white walls were covered with many photos of Sarah, always with a few glimpses of Robert’s back. It was clear that the person who decorated this apartment had poured a lot of heart into it. One hundred and sixty-three thousand dollars. Paid in full. Sarah Miller’s name. Sarah’s bracelet. Three hundred thousand dollars. It was supposed to be my wedding anniversary gift. And Sarah’s silk nightgown, and Sarah’s manicure, and the tea set on the coffee table, and the brand of tea leaves—none of it was cheap. Every single item spoke of luxury. Every single item. I looked down at my own plain, unadorned nails, then at the calluses on my palms from years of hard work, and then at my clothes, an outfit and shoes that together probably cost less than a thousand dollars. A sudden wave of bitter amusement washed over me. I laughed out loud. “Robert Sterling.” I cut Robert off. “Since you’re already married,” I said, glancing one last time at the marriage certificate in Sarah’s arms, “there’s nothing left for us to discuss.” I didn’t wait for Robert. I didn’t need to hear his explanation. All I knew was that the fifteen years I had given had become a joke. And Robert Sterling had made me the biggest clown in that joke. I sat in my best friend Chloe’s law office, placing the marriage certificate on the table. After explaining everything I knew to Chloe, I asked her only one thing. “In this situation, what are my chances?” My voice remained calm, as if discussing everyday matters. “Robert and I started from scratch. The company shares are equal, the assets split down the middle—all transparent. But then there’s Sarah.” I tapped the table, thinking of the three hundred thousand dollar bracelet and the one hundred and sixty-three thousand dollar apartment. “I don’t want anyone to get off easy. Stepping on my blood and sweat, enjoying the fruits of my labor—there’s no such easy thing in this world, and no justice in it either!” I told Chloe. “I want them to pay the price!” “But,” Chloe said, still fuming but maintaining her professional demeanor, “your company is at a critical stage for listing. A scandal now…” “I don’t care.” “Then that’s enough!” Chloe thumped her chest, promising, “I’ll help you see this through to the end.” Emerging from the bank, I sat in my car, staring at dozens of pages of transaction records. The amounts Robert had transferred to Sarah ranged from thousands to tens of thousands, each followed by a note: “Voluntary gift.” My chest felt like it was blocked, a suffocating feeling gripping my throat, making my eyes sting and burn. I remembered how I, too, had envied other women’s manicures and their fashion. I had gone to a beauty salon, got a manicure like those young women, then returned home, deliberately showing off my pretty nails, waving them in front of Robert, hoping he would tell me I looked beautiful. Instead, Robert had simply met my expectant gaze with a cold expression. “Honey,” he’d said, grabbing my hand and looking at my nails, shaking his head in disapproval. “I know our lives are a bit better now, but the most important thing is not to forget where you came from. We can’t just start spending lavishly, right?” He’d continued, “What if things get difficult again someday? How will you adapt?” “Honey,” Robert had hugged me, “I still prefer you simple.” All my expectations had shattered into dust. Robert’s words were like a bucket of cold water poured over my head, leaving me stunned, even forgetting to react. I just watched as Robert unceremoniously plucked off the tiny diamonds from my nails, saying, “What use are these flashy, impractical things?” Yes. Flashy, impractical things. What use were they? Yet Sarah was adorned with flashy, impractical things, like someone from another world, as perfect as a porcelain doll. The ironic part was that every penny spent on Sarah’s adornments came from the blood, sweat, and tears I had poured into building our life over the years. Why? Tears still flowed uncontrollably. I fiercely wiped them away, then, seeing Robert’s persistent calls, finally answered. “Honey?” “You finally answered!” “Thank goodness!” Robert’s anxious voice came through. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere! Where are you? Whatever it is, can we just talk face-to-face?” He pleaded, “Audrey, we’ve been together for fifteen years! Not fifteen days! You can’t just hide from me…” “Robert.” I suppressed the ache in my throat, my voice still calm. “Let’s meet.” I told him, “At that house in Northwood. Let’s meet there.” He was clearly taken aback. After a few seconds of silence, “Okay,” he said. Then, Robert’s voice became surprised and relieved. “Honey, I’ll head over right now! I’ll pick up some soup dumplings from your favorite place and bring them!” Before I could refuse, Robert had already hung up. I turned to meet Chloe’s worried gaze. “I’m fine,” I said, forcing a smile. “Don’t worry.” It had been almost five years since Robert and I moved out of that house. I looked at the weathered, old door, remembering how, when we first moved there from the basement apartment, Robert and I had put our hearts into decorating it together. Robert had said then, “Honey, this is our first home. It means something different!” He’d continued, “Later, when we’re old, if you’re willing, we’ll come back here to retire!” He’d asked, “Every year, we’ll come back and stay for a few days, okay?” At the time, my heart was full of joy, feeling that my life was truly worth it. Now, only a few years later, everything had changed. I pushed open the door. Robert was already getting up from the sofa. “Honey!” Robert was like a child seeking praise, picking up the ready-made soup dumplings and offering them to me. “They’re still warm.” In the past, I always said I loved soup dumplings, loved how Robert would wake up before dawn every day to queue for them for me. Later, when I brought up soup dumplings again, Robert just offered perfunctory excuses. “Audrey,” he’d say. “Time is money. I don’t have that much leisure to wait in such a long queue for dumplings.” Now, the soup dumplings were before me again, but somehow, they no longer looked appetizing. “Robert Sterling.” I ignored Robert’s attentiveness, walked past him, and sat on the sofa. The old sofa creaked, incomparable to Sarah’s. “Do you remember this sofa?” I asked Robert. “You and I spent two days searching the secondhand market to buy it.” I continued, as if recounting a mundane detail, “Because we couldn’t afford to pay for delivery, you borrowed a flatbed cart, and I held onto the sofa armrest. We spent two and a half hours bringing it home together in forty-degree summer heat.” I looked at him. “Back then, you said this sofa, no matter how rich we got, would never be replaced. You said it was proof of our love.” Robert’s eyes flickered, avoiding my gaze. I simply picked up the remote control from the coffee table. The remote was wrapped in tape; Robert had accidentally dropped it when he was drunk, and I couldn’t bear to replace it, so I bought tape and wrapped it up. I caressed the tape on the remote. “But the truth is, things change, don’t they?” “No, they don’t!” Robert rushed to my side, explaining frantically. “It’s not like that!” Robert’s eyes turned red, just like every time he was agitated in the past. “Sarah and I were just an accident! I don’t love her! I swear!” Robert half-knelt before me, reaching for my hand, but I shifted, dodging his grasp. I saw the hurt flash in his eyes as he continued, “At the time, I drank too much at a party. I don’t know how Sarah ended up in the hotel. When I woke up, I was genuinely scared! I didn’t lie to you!” Robert’s tears fell. “I was afraid you’d find out and break up with me, that you’d throw a fit. I didn’t know how to face you!” He stammered, “I just…” “How long?” “What?” “How long?” My voice remained calm. “With Sarah, how long have you been together?” Robert suddenly fell silent. He met my eyes, staring at me for a long time before speaking with difficulty. “Three and a half years.” I remembered Robert saying we’d come back to stay for a few days every year. But later, Robert always claimed he had no time. It wasn’t that he had no time. It was just that all his time had been spent on someone else. My heart ached, and then I heard Robert explain. “I wanted to break up, but Sarah clung to me. She kept saying her family background was poor, that her parents favored her brothers. I just felt sorry for her…” Robert’s voice grew weaker. In the end, even he couldn’t bring himself to say the next words with conviction. “Sarah… is pregnant.” It was like a dull thunderclap exploding in my ears. I clenched my fists tightly. Even though I had learned the full truth before coming, hearing it with my own ears still made me feel utterly cold. While I was eagerly anticipating my wedding with Robert, he had already given another woman his identity, making me the outsider. Now, I listened to Robert say, “I thought you were getting older, and having a baby would be bad for your health…” Getting older. Bad for my health. How laughable. “So,” Robert looked at me, “I thought her having the child would be good for you too.” Good for me. My nails dug into my flesh, but I felt no pain, as I listened to Robert continue. “Just forgive me! I’ll do anything you ask!” “Really?” I suppressed the anger raging within me, meeting Robert’s gaze. “Really!” I suddenly smiled, rising from the sofa and walking to the door. I opened it, revealing the person outside, and my smile widened. “So, did you hear that clearly?” “Who’s the mistress now?” I looked at Sarah, then pulled out my phone, still on a video call with Chloe. “This video, no editing. Release it directly to the media, word for word!” “No matter how much it costs, I want the biggest impact!” Then. I was suddenly pulled back hard by the wrist, and meeting Robert’s furious eyes, I smiled. “Robert Sterling. When you mess up, you can’t just walk away unscathed.” I looked at him. “Are you satisfied with this answer?” “Robert Sterling!” Sarah, ignoring Robert’s rage, rushed between us and demanded loudly, “Was what you just said true?! You said you loved me! You said you’d be responsible for me and our child’s future! You said you married me out of love, but couldn’t give me a wedding because of business ties with Audrey and it wasn’t the right time!” She was hysterical. “You’ve been lying to me all this time?!” Sarah completely broke down, hitting Robert with all her might. Robert, however, paid no mind to Sarah being pregnant. The moment Sarah lunged at him again, he slapped her across the face. I watched Sarah’s eyes redden. She stumbled back a few steps, looking at Robert in disbelief. “You hit me?” “Robert Sterling!” “You actually hit me?!” “I’ll kill you!” Sarah started to rush at him again in a frenzy, but Robert grabbed her hair and slammed her to the ground. The gentleness on Robert’s face was gone, replaced only by ruthlessness. He yelled at Sarah. “Haven’t you had enough?!” “If it weren’t for you, Audrey and I wouldn’t have come to this point!” “Didn’t I tell you?!” “Didn’t I tell you! I told you not to provoke Audrey! Why did you still provoke her?!” “Why?!” Robert walked over to Sarah, ignoring her tear-streaked face, ignoring her pregnancy. He lifted his foot, about to kick her. Sarah suddenly panicked, grabbing Robert and begging him, crying. “Robert Sterling, we have a child!” “You can’t do this to me, you can’t!” I watched the once haughty Sarah become disheveled, like a clown. Just as she had looked at me when I first met her, as if I were a clown. I watched indifferently, hearing Chloe say, “Don’t worry.” “Everything you asked me to do, I’m taking care of it all.” “The company listing.” “Making it onto the rich list.” “Robert Sterling,” Chloe’s voice was full of scorn, “he’s just dreaming!” Robert finally seemed to come to his senses. He rigidly turned, meeting my eyes, then his ruthlessness faded, and he became weak again, grabbing my hand and saying, “Honey!” “You can’t do this to me!” “The company, we built it together, don’t you remember?! Back then, to secure that investment, you didn’t sleep for days and nights, guarding the investor’s door before dawn, just to show them your sincerity first thing!” He pleaded, “It was a blizzard that day, and you had pneumonia from a high fever, and you were in the ICU for three days because of it!” He looked at me, “You loved our company so much, how can you destroy it with your own hands?” I watched Robert try to remind me, and I too remembered that day. Robert had rushed to the mansion, listening to the investor say, “Robert Sterling, you’re truly blessed! To find such a wonderful woman! You’re worth it!” He’d continued, “I’m making this investment!” I felt Robert trembling all over. He disregarded the contract, and just cried, hugging me and saying, “I don’t want the partnership! I don’t want the company! I don’t want money! I only want Audrey, I only want Audrey! Audrey, don’t leave me!” The high fever had terrified Robert. For that, Robert spent two full years tending to my health, learning to cook for me, making me medicinal meals. Now.

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