Author: Momo Chan

1 Grandma told me the nurse was pinching her in the middle of the night, even tying her up in the bathroom. Naturally, I didn’t believe her. She was eighty years old, and her dementia was worsening by the day. I figured she would spin any wild tale just to avoid staying in a nursing home. Swallowing my frustration, I apologized to the nurse with a smile and even presented her with a custom engraved plaque of appreciation. The next day, another purple bruise bloomed on Grandma’s arm. Trembling from head to toe, she insisted it was the exact same person who did it. Her eyes were brimming with absolute, crushing disappointment in me, yet she spoke with such unwavering certainty. By the third day, when I checked the facility’s app and watched the security footage of that same nurse feeding her with practiced gentleness, I completely snapped. “Are you just making up these ridiculous lies to torment me because you don’t want to be here?!” Grandma shook uncontrollably but still mustered the courage to nod. “It’s true. It’s all true…” That night, I left her alone at the nursing home. Halfway driving back to my apartment, a thought suddenly struck me. Why would an eighty-year-old woman, even after being screamed at by her own granddaughter, keep insisting on a lie? Grandma Ruth was my only family left. My parents passed away when I was young. She worked double shifts at a diner and collected scrap metal to raise me, putting me through college so I could finally build a stable life in Seattle. But when I bought my own house in the city, she refused to move in. She said she couldn’t get used to living in a concrete birdcage, that the city air suffocated her. Starting last year, her memory began to fail. Once, she forgot to turn off the stove while boiling water and nearly burned her old house to the ground. The neighbor called me, his voice shaking over the line. “Helen, you need to get back here. Your grandma almost killed herself in that fire!” I took a week off work and forced her to come to the city. But I had a demanding corporate job. I had to travel for business constantly. I couldn’t watch her twenty-four seven. Hire a live-in nanny? She panicked around strangers. Two different caretakers quit within three days because she wouldn’t cooperate. Left with no other choice, I bit the bullet and checked her into the best retirement center in the city. Golden Leaf Senior Care. It cost eighty-five hundred dollars a month. Premium, high-end care. On-site doctors and nurses, three catered meals delivered to the room, and one-on-one caregiver service. When the director gave me the tour, he specifically introduced me to the head nurse. “This is Brenda. She has been with us for eight years. She is our most patient staff member, incredibly skilled at soothing the residents. You can leave your grandmother in her hands with absolute peace of mind.” Brenda was in her fifties, plump, with a soft and comforting voice. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. I treat these seniors like they are my own flesh and blood.” After thoroughly evaluating the place, I felt profoundly relieved. During the first month, Grandma sounded genuinely happy every time she called. “Helen, the food here is wonderful. Brenda is so sweet to me. She even brings me warm water to soak my feet every night.” The heavy stone in my chest finally dropped. That eighty-five hundred a month was worth every penny. But by the second month, the tone of her calls began to shift. “Helen, I don’t want to stay here anymore. Please take me home…” When I asked why, she stammered and couldn’t give a straight answer, only murmuring that she was homesick. I gently coaxed her. “Nana, your legs aren’t doing well. I worry too much if you go back to the old house. Let me finish this busy project at work, and I will bring you over to stay with me for a few days.” She fell silent for a long time before whispering a quiet okay and hanging up. I didn’t think much of it at the time. Old folks getting homesick was perfectly normal. But over the next few days, her calls became increasingly frequent. She kept repeating the exact same sentence. “Helen, when are you coming to pick me up?” My patience began to wear thin. “Nana, I am swamped with work. Please stop calling me constantly. If you need something, ask your nurse. Isn’t Brenda taking good care of you?” Grandma stopped talking. And then, the incident happened. I was in the middle of a board meeting when my phone started buzzing relentlessly. The caller ID showed the nursing home. I stepped out into the hallway to answer. Brenda’s voice came through, laced with a heavy sigh of helplessness. “Helen, I am so sorry to bother you. Your grandmother had a little fall and scraped her arm. Please don’t panic. We have already treated the wound.” When I rushed over, Grandma was sitting on the edge of her bed. There was a massive, dark purple bruise on her right elbow, accompanied by several bloody scratch marks. “How did you fall?” Grandma cast a terrified glance at Brenda, shrinking her neck back, and refused to speak. Brenda sighed heavily. “She got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night. I offered to help her, but she stubbornly refused. She slipped on the tiles. When I rushed over to help her up, she panicked and started scratching me.” Brenda rolled up her sleeve, revealing several angry red scratch marks on the back of her hand. “It is perfectly fine. The elderly can be stubborn. I completely understand.” I believed her. As I was about to leave, Grandma suddenly grabbed my hand. Her grip was frighteningly strong. “Helen, I didn’t fall. Brenda pinched me. She comes in the middle of the night and pinches me…” I froze. I looked back at Brenda. She just offered a helpless, bitter smile and shook her head. “Helen, she has been a bit confused lately. The doctor said this is just the progression of her illness. She will experience hallucinations and paranoia. Please don’t take it to heart.” I let out a heavy sigh of relief. Right. Grandma had Alzheimer’s. The doctor had warned me she would start seeing things that weren’t there. 2 I squatted down to comfort her. “Nana, did you just have a bad dream? Brenda is so good to you. Why would she pinch you?” Grandma grew frantic, her eyes wide with desperation. “It wasn’t a dream! It was her!” “When I was sleeping, she came in and pinched my thighs. She pinched my waist. When I woke up crying from the pain, she told me I was just dreaming!” Brenda maintained her perfect, gentle facade. She walked over and tucked the blanket securely around Grandma. “Mrs. Ruth, if you don’t like me, I can speak to the director and have another nurse assigned to care for you. How does that sound?” Grandma instantly fell silent. A visceral flash of pure terror crossed her eyes. I completely misread the situation. I thought Grandma was just feeling guilty for lying, and I silently blamed her for being unreasonable. “Nana, please stop throwing tantrums.” “I am paying a fortune every month just so you can live comfortably.” “Brenda treats you so wonderfully, and you accuse her of this? Does that seem fair?” Grandma opened her mouth to speak, but hot tears suddenly spilled over her cheeks. She let go of my hand, rolled over, and turned her back to me. Her frail shoulders trembled with silent sobs. My heart ached, but I stood my ground. I hadn’t done anything wrong. The elderly could get confused, but I couldn’t let myself get dragged into her delusions. Driving back, my mind was a chaotic mess. Eighty-five hundred a month was nearly half my salary. I bit the bullet and paid it because I desperately wanted her to have a good life. Why couldn’t she just understand that? The next day, Brenda texted me several photos. Grandma was sitting in a wheelchair, soaking up the sun in the courtyard. Brenda was crouched beside her, carefully clipping her fingernails. Both of them looked genuinely happy. Brenda sent a voice note. “Helen, your grandmother is in much better spirits today. I took her outside to get some fresh air, and I even fed her half an apple. Please don’t worry. The elderly just need a little extra coaxing.” A warm feeling spread through my chest. I thought Brenda was truly a saint. That evening, I called Grandma, hoping to mend the tension between us. The phone rang for a long time before she picked up. Her voice sounded deeply muffled. “Helen…” “Nana, Brenda took you out into the sun today, right? Did you have a good time?” The line went dead silent. After a long pause, she finally spoke. “Helen, do you believe your Nana?” My stomach dropped. “She pinched me again. Today, when we were in the courtyard and no one was looking, she pinched my waist. She told me if I dared to tattle on her again, she would pull all my teeth out…” My temper flared instantly. “Nana! Why are you still making up these ridiculous lies?!” “Brenda sent me photos! She was crouching there cutting your nails, smiling at you like you were her own mother! How could she possibly be pinching you?!” Low, heartbreaking sobs echoed through the phone. “You don’t believe me. You don’t believe me either…” I took a deep breath, forcing my anger down. “Nana, it isn’t that I don’t believe you. The doctor literally told us your condition causes hallucinations.” “Think about it reasonably. If Brenda was really abusing you, how could she smile so warmly in those pictures?” “She was faking it. She fakes it whenever people are watching…” “Enough!” I cut her off sharply. “I will come visit you this weekend. Stop letting your imagination run wild and get some sleep.” I hung up the phone, feeling a heavy knot forming in my chest. My best friend Jess noticed I looked completely drained and asked what was wrong. I poured the whole story out to her. She sighed sympathetically. “That is just how Alzheimer’s works. My grandmother was exactly the same. She swore up and down that my mom was stealing her money, but the cash was literally right under her own pillow. Don’t stress over it. Just play along and humor her.” I nodded, convincing myself Jess was right. When I visited the nursing home that weekend, I immediately sensed something was off. Grandma was sitting on her bed. When she saw me walk in, her first reaction wasn’t joy. She physically shrank backward. “Nana?” She kept her head lowered, refusing to make eye contact. I stepped closer, reaching out to hold her hand. She flinched and pulled away. “Nana, what is wrong?” She stayed completely silent. Brenda walked in holding a plate of fresh fruit, greeting me with a bright smile. “Helen, you’re here! Have some fruit, I just chopped it up.” The moment Grandma heard Brenda’s voice, her entire body violently shuddered. In that split second, a tiny sliver of doubt pierced my mind. But Brenda acted so perfectly normal. Her smile was warm and inviting. She kept cheerfully updating me. “Mrs. Ruth ate half a bowl of rice today!” and “Mrs. Ruth is in a wonderful mood this afternoon!” I pushed my doubts down, convincing myself I was just being paranoid. As I was getting ready to leave, Grandma suddenly grabbed my sleeve. Her eyes were bloodshot. “Helen, are you coming back next week?” “I am. Of course I am.” She nodded, released her grip, and curled back up on the bed. She looked so small and incredibly pitiful. I walked out the door. Brenda hurried after me, her expression cautious. “Helen, there is something I need to discuss with you.” “Go ahead.” “Your grandmother has been saying a lot of crazy things lately, and it is starting to disturb the other residents.” “I was wondering if we could move her to a private room? The cost is a bit higher, an extra two thousand a month. What do you think?” My chest tightened. “What crazy things is she saying?” Brenda sighed, looking deeply conflicted. “Just the usual stuff. Saying I pinch her, saying I hit her. If the rumors spread, my conscience is clear, but it looks terrible for the facility.” “If other families overhear her, they might actually believe we abuse the elderly here.” My face burned with intense shame. “Brenda, I am so sorry. I apologize for the trouble she is causing you. I will have to think about the private room. Finances are a bit tight right now.” “Oh, it’s perfectly fine! I am just putting the option out there. Take your time to think about it. It is for her own good, really.” Driving home, the guilt gnawed at me. I felt terrible for Brenda. She was working a demanding, exhausting job to care for my grandmother, only to be falsely accused without a single word of complaint. I decided I needed to do something to make it up to her. 3 On Monday, I took a half-day off work and ordered a custom engraved plaque of appreciation. It read in bold letters: Exceptional Care, Just Like Family. When I delivered it to the nursing home, it was the afternoon visiting hour. The hallway was bustling with other families. Brenda saw the plaque, and her eyes practically vanished behind her massive, beaming smile. “Oh my goodness, Helen! What is all this? You are too kind! I am just doing my job!” I held her hands, intentionally raising my voice for the hallway to hear. “Brenda, you absolutely must accept this!” “My grandmother’s mind is failing her, and she constantly spouts nonsense and wrongly accuses you. Yet you still care for her with such incredible patience. I truly do not know how to thank you enough!” The surrounding families nodded in agreement, some even giving us a thumbs-up. “Brenda really is an angel. My mom praises her all the time.” “Absolutely. Brenda has been at Golden Leaf for years. She is the most reliable nurse here.” Brenda waved her hands modestly, her face glowing with triumph. The facility director came out, pulling Brenda and me together for a photo next to the plaque, mentioning he wanted to post it on their official Facebook page. I smiled for the camera, feeling a profound sense of relief. Surely Grandma would finally settle down after this. When I went into Grandma’s room, I found her crying. She wasn’t making a sound. The tears were simply cascading down her cheeks. When she saw me walk in, she frantically wiped her face with her sleeve. “Nana?” She refused to look at me. Her eyes were locked dead onto that shiny new plaque. A wave of irritation washed over me. “Nana, I got Brenda a plaque to reward her for taking such good care of you. Please stop spreading those lies. She is genuinely wonderful to you.” She slowly lifted her head and looked right at me. Her eyes held a mix of profound grievance and absolute despair. “Helen, do you honestly believe your Nana has lost her mind?” I choked on my words. “My mind might get foggy sometimes. But I know what pain feels like. I can still tell when I am hurting.” She rolled up her pant leg, exposing her inner thigh for me to see. It was a massive patch of deep, sickening purple, dotted with several finger marks that had already turned black. “She pinched me yesterday. She pinches my inner thighs so you won’t see it.” My brain practically short-circuited with a loud ringing noise. The very next second, Brenda’s voice floated into the room. “Mrs. Ruth, are you tattling on me to Helen again?” She walked in carrying a basin of warm water, her smile sweet and radiant, acting as if she hadn’t a care in the world. “Helen, please don’t take it to heart. The elderly get like this, it comes in waves. She was just laughing with me a minute ago, and now she is crying.” I looked at the horrific bruising on Grandma’s leg, then up at Brenda’s flawless smile. I genuinely didn’t know who to believe anymore. Grandma rolled her pant leg back down, closed her eyes, and refused to look at me again. Brenda gently pulled me out into the hallway, lowering her voice to a concerned whisper. “Helen, that bruise on her leg happened when she bumped into the tub during her shower. I saw it happen with my own eyes.” “Her memory is just awful. She forgets the accident the moment it happens and insists someone pinched her. If you don’t believe me, we can go check the security cameras right now.” Cameras? My eyes lit up with hope. “Can we really check them?” “Of course! We have cameras in all the common areas. There aren’t any inside the private rooms or bathrooms, obviously, because of privacy laws.” “But the hallways and the activity rooms are fully monitored. You can review the footage whenever you want.” I followed Brenda to the security room and pulled up yesterday’s tapes. On the screen, Grandma was sitting in her wheelchair. Brenda was pushing her toward the activity room. Her movements were gentle, and she even leaned down to chat with Grandma. Everything looked incredibly harmonious. During the afternoon shower schedule, Brenda helped her into the bathroom. When they came back out, Grandma was indeed walking with a slight limp, but Brenda was carefully supporting her weight. Nothing looked suspicious. I let out a massive breath of relief. “Brenda, I am so sorry. I never should have doubted you.” Brenda patted my hand with a motherly smile. “It is perfectly fine. I completely understand. It is hard on you family members, too.” Driving home, I called Jess and told her about reviewing the tapes. “See? I told you. Her mind is just playing tricks on her. Stop beating yourself up over it. There is nothing you can do about the disease.” I nodded in agreement, the heavy stone in my chest finally vanishing for good. Wednesday, at two in the morning, my phone violently rang. It was the nursing home’s landline. I answered it groggily. Brenda’s voice came through, panting heavily. “Helen, I am so sorry to wake you at this hour. Your grandmother is throwing another tantrum. She locked herself in the bathroom, and she won’t answer no matter how hard we knock. We are terrified she might hurt herself. Do you know how we can get her out?” I bolted upright in bed, instantly wide awake. “What happened?!” “I have no idea! She was perfectly fine when I checked on her earlier. During my night rounds, I realized she wasn’t in her bed. I searched everywhere and finally found the bathroom door locked from the inside. She won’t answer me. It has been almost an hour.” I threw my clothes on and sprinted out the door. By the time I arrived at the nursing home, it was almost three in the morning. A crowd had gathered outside Grandma’s room. Nurses, security guards, and Brenda standing at the very front, her face etched with deep anxiety. “Helen, thank god you are here! She is still in there. She won’t make a sound, and I am so scared something happened to her!” I pounded on the door. “Nana! It is me! Helen! Open the door!” Dead silence. Panic consumed me. I ordered the security guard to physically pry the door open with a crowbar. The door violently swung open, and the scene inside etched itself into my brain for the rest of my life. Grandma was sitting on the cold floor, slumped against the wall. Her hands were brutally bound to the radiator with her own sweatpants, and a filthy rag was shoved deeply into her mouth. When she saw me, a torrent of tears spilled from her eyes. She let out muffled, agonizing whimpers, completely unable to speak. I charged forward like a madwoman, desperately untying her hands and ripping the dirty rag out of her mouth. “Nana! Nana! Who did this?! Who did this to you?!” Grandma shook violently, burying her face in my chest, sobbing with a sound so broken it tore my soul in half.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “463147”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 As the token scholarship kid in a classroom full of trust fund babies, my biggest dream was simple. I wanted to be the perfect little fixer for the wealthy heirs of my elite prep school, keep my stomach full, and score a full ride to an Ivy League university. For two years, I did their homework, ran their errands, and tutored them. Even after my so-called parents snatched away most of my earnings, I still managed to stay warm, well-fed, and stash away thirty thousand dollars. But right before senior year, a massive bombshell dropped on my head. It turned out I was the switched-at-birth, biological heiress to a massive corporate empire. The first thing I did was drop the news in our private school group chat. Victoria, the undisputed queen bee of Manhattan’s upper crust and my favorite client, scoffed at the news. “Don’t even bother going back. I bet those biological parents of yours will blindly side with the fake daughter anyway. You’re better off staying as our favorite little minion. Otherwise, a sweet thing like you will just get eaten alive.” When I insisted on returning, Victoria elegantly patted my shoulder. “Fine, go back. But don’t sweat it. If anyone dares to bully you, I’ll personally ruin them.” The rest of the class chimed in immediately. “Yeah! We’ve got your back!” Warmth bloomed in my chest. Victoria was the heiress to the Vanguard Group, and every single kid in this class came from old money. Compared to them, my biological family, the Lockwoods, were barely middle-class masquerading as elites. With this kind of backup, I had absolutely nothing to fear. So when I finally returned to the Lockwood estate, I went entirely scorched earth. My biological parents didn’t even bother to pick me up. They just sent a driver. The driver dumped me at the front gate and sped off. I had to knock for ten minutes before a housekeeper finally opened the door. The moment I stepped into the foyer, I saw a middle-aged couple cooing over a girl dressed like a literal princess. Beside her stood a handsome young man, his face twisting with protective affection. “Don’t worry. You are my only sister. Even if that trash comes back, I will never acknowledge her!” The parents quickly joined in. “Oh, Stella, don’t cry. Even if you don’t share our blood, you will always be our most precious daughter!” “That Kelly girl could never compare to you. If she even tries to give you an attitude, we’ll throw her right back out!” I let out a cold laugh. I had made plenty of noise walking in, yet not a single one of them had bothered to look up. They were doing this on purpose. My biological parents and brother were intentionally icing me out. I lifted my heavy suitcase and slammed it down onto the imported mahogany floor. Bang. The impact was so hard the floorboards literally shuddered. I had survived eighteen years of hard labor and physical abuse under the hands of my vicious foster parents. My physical strength was no joke. Sure enough, the deafening crash shattered their little picturesque family moment. All four heads snapped toward me. Cameron and Monica Lockwood looked at me with deep displeasure, but Cameron, my biological brother, just yelled at me. “Where the hell did this little menace come from? Have you no manners!” Hearing Cameron’s outburst, Stella tugged at his sleeve and looked at me with wide, innocent eyes. “Sister, you’re back? I’m so sorry, Mom and Dad were just so busy comforting me that they didn’t notice you.” But underneath that sweet tone, her eyes were practically dancing with smug triumph. I just twitched the corner of my mouth and stayed completely silent. A flash of disappointment crossed Stella’s eyes before she looked me up and down. “I heard your foster family was really struggling financially. But you’re wearing brand names today, Sister. Where did you get the money for that? Did you get some creepy sugar daddy to buy them for you?” “It’s not a crime to be broke, but selling your body just to feed your vanity is terrifying. You shouldn’t do things like that, Sister.” Stella casually spit out the most venomous accusations with a face full of fake concern. Before she could even finish, Cameron exploded. “Kelly, is Stella telling the truth? You actually slept around just to buy designer tags? You shameless little tramp! The Lockwood family will never let a slut like you through our doors! I’d rather die than call you my sister!” Cameron and Monica finally stood up and marched over to me. 2 Monica looked at me with absolute disgust. “Kelly, even if your foster parents were poor, you didn’t have to stoop so low! To do something like that just for clothes…” Cameron was so furious he raised his hand, fully intending to slap me. “What a disgrace! What did I do to deserve such a shameless daughter? Prostituting yourself over a piece of clothing!” “Get out of my house right now!” Watching the ugly expressions on their faces, the tiny sliver of hope I had when I walked through the door evaporated into nothing. I glanced down at my outfit. It was just a basic clearance sweatsuit from Target. The whole set cost maybe thirty bucks. How did that magically turn into a luxury brand in Stella’s mouth? Victoria wore actual designer clothes. Her outfits cost tens of thousands of dollars. That was luxury. Just because I was wearing cheap sweatpants, they were ready to crucify me. It was downright nauseating. Victoria had taught me well. When faced with baseless slander, never waste time defending yourself. Just hit back harder. I sneered, pulled out my phone, and immediately dialed 911. “Hello, 911? Someone here claims they saw me being taken advantage of by an older man, but I have no memory of it. I must have been drugged. I need to report a crime! I’m currently at…” Standing across from me, Stella’s face drained of all color. She stared at me in pure horror. Before I could finish the sentence, Cameron lunged forward, snatched the phone from my hand, and ended the call. He stared at me like I was an alien. “Kelly, what the hell are you doing? Are you insane!” I pointed a cold finger right at Stella. “Didn’t she just say my clothes were bought with dirty money? If I did that and have no memory of it, I must have been roofied and set up! Of course I have to call the cops. Stella is my prime witness!” “Give me the phone back. I wasn’t finished! I need the police to investigate this massive crime that happened to me without my knowledge!” I was strong. Cameron was absolutely no match for me. I grabbed his wrist and, while he stared at me in shock, I easily wrenched my phone right back out of his grip. The screen was black, but I unlocked it and prepared to dial again. This time, Stella practically threw herself at me and grabbed my hand. Her voice was trembling. “Sister, please don’t call the cops! I never said I saw anything with my own eyes. I was just guessing…” I stared at her, my eyes entirely devoid of warmth. “Just guessing?” “You just randomly guessed and decided to completely destroy my reputation? You started a rumor that I sell my body for cash! Do you have any idea how a rumor like that can ruin a girl’s life? Are you trying to drive me to suicide? Stealing eighteen years of my life as an heiress wasn’t enough for you? The second I step foot in this house, you want me dead!” Tears began to stream down my face in thick, heavy drops. Victoria had told me that showing weakness at the right time wasn’t surrendering. It was a strategy to gain the upper hand. Sure enough, seeing my tear-streaked face, a flicker of guilt finally crossed Cameron and Monica’s eyes. Only Cameron opened his mouth to defend Stella. “Kelly, that’s not what she meant. Stop twisting her words!” Stella noticed that Cameron and Monica were staying quiet. She panicked. “Mom, Dad, I didn’t mean it like that! I just thought it was illogical. I heard her foster family was incredibly poor, so it didn’t make sense that she could afford nice clothes…” I barked out a harsh laugh. “You want to talk about how I lived? Your biological parents did this to us on purpose. I was forced to cook and do laundry by the time I was three. If I messed up, I was beaten black and blue every single day!” I shoved my sleeves up, exposing a canvas of faded bruises and deep, terrifying scars. 3 Seeing my arms, Cameron actually gagged. “That is so freaking gross.” Monica, however, burst into tears and tried to pull me into a hug. “Oh, Kelly, we have failed you all these years!” I coldly stepped out of her embrace and locked eyes with Stella. “These clothes cost thirty dollars. They aren’t designer. I bought them with my academic scholarship money. I just didn’t want to meet my real parents wearing rags that even a homeless person would throw away. Is that a crime?” Stella was completely speechless. Realizing the tide had turned against her, she pivoted instantly. “Mom, Dad, I really didn’t mean anything by it. Sister is just overthinking. She clearly still hates me for taking her place. I’ll apologize. I’ll do anything to make it up to her…” Before she could finish her little performance, I cut her off with a bright smile. “Make it up to me? Sounds great!” “I want your bedroom.” Stella choked on her breath. She opened her mouth, ready to scream a refusal. But I beat her to the punch, my voice cracking as I started to cry again. “I knew your apology was totally fake. Saying you’d make it up to me was just another lie…” “Take it! Just take it!” … Just as I suspected, the room the Lockwoods had prepared for me was a tiny maid’s quarters. It didn’t even have a window. It barely fit a twin bed, let alone a desk. My preemptive strike had been flawless. Stella’s bedroom was the biggest and most luxurious suite in the house. A massive canopy bed, bright floor-to-ceiling windows, a gorgeous study desk, and genuine leather sofas. Every piece of furniture screamed wealth. Studying in a room like this instantly put me in a fantastic mood. I quickly pulled out my textbooks and started grinding through practice tests. With an environment this nice, I could easily crush three extra sets of mock exams a day. Once I finished my own studying, I started organizing class notes for my wealthy clients. They had made it very clear that even if I transferred schools, I was still on the payroll. I dropped the polished PDFs into the group chat. Instantly, my classmates started Venmoing me a thousand bucks each. Within fifteen minutes, my balance shot up by fifty thousand dollars. On top of that, Victoria wired me an extra five thousand. Victoria’s notes were always VIP tier. I sent her a private, customized file complete with hand-drawn diagrams and detailed analytical breakdowns. In my heart, Victoria would always be the MVP. After sending the money, she texted: [Remember to tell me if they mess with you, little minion.] I smiled and typed a quick confirmation. Just as I hit send, the housekeeper knocked, telling me dinner was ready. When I walked downstairs, Stella was snuggled up against Monica at the dining table, acting like a spoiled child. Monica was issuing strict orders to the housekeeper. “Make sure Stella’s new room is decorated exactly like her old one, understand? Only use the highest quality linens and furniture.” Cameron slid a sleek bank card across the table to Stella. “There’s two hundred thousand on this card. That’s your allowance for the month.” Cameron grinned at her. “Don’t be sad, Stella. See how much Mom and Dad love you? Who cares if Kelly shares our blood? She isn’t worth a single hair on your head. I’ll wire you a hundred grand later!” Stella looked positively radiant. “I knew my family loved me the most!” As if sensing my presence, she looked up and shot me a highly provocative smirk. I just curved my lips into a polite smile, calmly pulled out a chair, and sat down. “Dad. Mom.” Their smiles instantly froze. Monica looked at me with heavy guardedness. Whatever guilt she had felt an hour ago was completely gone. Cameron looked me up and down, his eyes icy. A dull ache throbbed in my chest, but I buried it immediately. Cameron cleared his throat. “Kelly, since you’re home now, you need to start school tomorrow.” “We know your previous living situation was poor, so your grades must be terrible. We don’t blame you for that. You obviously can’t attend Stella’s academy. I’ve already pulled some strings at a decent private high school. You will report there tomorrow.” Before I could even respond, Stella chimed in. “Sister, are you upset about the school Dad picked for you? But your grades are so bad, there’s no way you could keep up at my academy! If you really hate it that much and insist on going to my school, I’ll just drop out and go to yours. Would that make you happy?” 4 Cameron slammed his hand on the table. “Are you crazy, Stella? Why should you drop out and lower your standards for this idiot? I absolutely forbid you from ruining your future over her!” Monica looked at me with deep disapproval. “Kelly, as our daughter, you cannot be this jealous. Your grades are terrible, so you belong at an average school. What gives you the right to demand the same treatment as Stella?” Cameron slammed his water glass down. “Kelly, I suggest you learn your place. Stella is not dropping out to accommodate you!” I looked at them, genuinely baffled, and just said what was on my mind. “Am I actually your biological child?” Cameron answered instinctively. “Of course! Why else would we bring you here!” I laughed coldly. “If I’m your real daughter, why do you blindly believe every single lie Stella tells you?” “Earlier, she made up a rumor that I was a prostitute, and you believed her. Now she’s making up rumors that my grades are bad, and you believe her again. Did you even bother looking into my background?” Cameron looked embarrassed. Stella opened her mouth to interrupt, but I didn’t give her the chance. “I wasn’t finished telling you about how her real parents treated me. Not only did they starve and beat me, but they also tried to force me into an arranged marriage with a creepy older man for a quick payout.” “Do you want to know why they didn’t go through with it?” Stella finally found a gap to inject her poison. “Because they aren’t that evil! You’re just making all of this up…” “Because I was a straight-A student!” I cut her off sharply. “I was the Valedictorian of my entire district! I got into the best public high school in Chicago on a full merit scholarship, and the school paid me a three-thousand-dollar stipend every single year!” “The only reason they kept me around was because they wanted to steal my scholarship money. Your biological parents aren’t just purely evil, they are greedy to the bone!” Stella’s face turned white as she tried to argue, but I was faster. I slammed my official transcript right onto the table in front of Cameron. “This is my academic record. I rank first in my entire grade, every single semester. I’m pretty sure grades like this are more than enough to get me into Stella’s elite academy.” Cameron picked up the transcript. The disdain in his eyes slowly morphed into shock. “Ranked first? You really are smart!” He pulled out his phone, sent me two hundred bucks, and smiled. “Kelly, your grades are excellent. I’m very pleased. You will transfer to Stella’s school tomorrow.” “Dad!” Stella shrieked. Cameron shot her a placating look before turning back to me, his expression turning dead serious. “However, even though your grades are good, I cannot make your identity public right now. At school, you will introduce yourself as a distant relative of the Lockwood family. Understood?” When I didn’t say anything, his tone turned threatening. “You will do exactly as I say. Otherwise, don’t blame me for throwing you right back onto the streets you came from!” “You might not know this, but Stella is arranged to marry the heir of the Sinclair family. Her status as a Lockwood heiress cannot be jeopardized!” The Sinclair family? I remembered doing a background check before moving in. Stella’s fiancé was some guy named Tedd Sinclair. Tedd? Victoria had mentioned a cousin of hers named Tedd. His entire family’s wealth and status relied entirely on the Vanguard Group’s charity. So this was the real reason Cameron was so obsessed with protecting Stella. “As long as you play nice, I’ll wire you two hundred bucks a week,” Cameron finished, completely confident he had bought my silence. How pathetic. He actually thought a measly two hundred bucks a week was enough to leash me. It was laughable. I literally made fifty thousand dollars just by sharing a PDF! 5 So the next day, when Stella proudly stood at the front of the classroom and introduced me as her poor, distant relative, I didn’t even blink. I looked right at the teacher and the students and spoke clearly. “Stella is lying. Her biological parents are actually abusive con artists. She is the fake heiress. I am the true daughter. Her parents were the ones who switched us at birth.” “The only reason my last name is still Smith is because the paperwork hasn’t cleared yet.” “I am the real heiress of the Lockwood family.” The entire classroom descended into absolute chaos. “Oh my god, the tea is piping hot! Stella isn’t the real daughter? The new girl is?” “Then why did Stella call her a poor relative? She was totally trying to protect her own status!” “Duh! Her parents are literal criminals! She’s the daughter of criminals! That’s a massive drop from being a billionaire heiress!” “Wait, isn’t Stella engaged to Tedd? Do you think the Sinclair family will still want her now that she’s a fake?” Standing at the podium, Stella’s face flushed a violent, humiliating red. She glared at me in disbelief before dropping her voice to a furious hiss. “Kelly, did you forget what Dad warned you about? You actually exposed yourself? Aren’t you terrified he’ll kick you out of the house tonight? You only have two hundred dollars to your name. Good luck surviving the rest of the year on that!” I tilted my head, looking at her trembling, rage-filled face, and smiled. “I don’t give a damn.” … Originally, the teacher was going to stick me in the back row next to the trash cans. But after my little introduction, she nervously cleared a desk for me in the prestigious third row. I sat down calmly, pulled out my practice exams, and started working. Once I finished, I had to draft up some fresh study guides for Victoria and my old classmates. The second the bell rang, a massive crowd of students swarmed my desk. Their faces were practically glowing with gossip. They bombarded me with questions about Stella and the baby-switching drama. I ignored all of them, keeping my head down and focusing on my work. I barely wrote two words before Stella marched over, trailing a furious-looking guy behind her. She held her chin high. “Kelly, I already texted Dad about what you did. He is absolutely furious! He said he’s kicking you out of the Lockwood family permanently!” The guy beside her wrapped a protective arm around Stella’s waist. “Listen up, you trash. I don’t care if Stella is biological or not. In my heart, she is the only Lockwood heiress! Our engagement stands, do you hear me!” This was Tedd Sinclair. He glared at me with absolute venom. “Kelly, who cares if you share their blood? I will never like you! My family is going to the Lockwood estate tonight to pressure your father. We will make sure you get thrown out onto the streets!” The moment Tedd spoke, the gossiping students instantly shut their mouths. They backed away, looking at me with pity. I looked at Tedd and Stella’s smug, arrogant faces and burst out laughing. “Really? I can’t wait to see that.” Whispers broke out around the room again. “The Sinclair family is super powerful. With them backing Stella, Kelly really might get kicked out!” “Man, the real daughter has it rough. It’s her first day here, and she’s probably going to be expelled tomorrow.” Even the teacher looked at me with deep anxiety. She was probably regretting moving my desk away from the trash cans. But I remained completely unbothered the entire day. I casually pulled out my phone and sent a text to Victoria. [Looks like I hit a snag. Need a little backup.]

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1 During my third year with Nolan, a gray-covered playlist suddenly popped up on my Spotify account. The creation date was marked ten years in the future. Thinking it was just a weird app glitch, I clicked on it. What came through the speakers wasn’t music. It was the sound of my own weeping. “Nolan, please, just look at me. I’m begging you…” “I gave my kidney to your mother. I quit my career to serve your family hand and foot. Ann hasn’t lifted a finger, so why did you choose her over me?” Immediately after, an unfamiliar woman’s voice chimed in. She sounded lazy, dripping with amusement. “Sister, does he really need a reason? Look at yourself. You’re a washed-up, miserable housewife. If I were Nolan, I’d be disgusted by you too.” Nolan’s voice finally came through. It was chillingly calm, as if he were discussing the weather. “Just sign the papers, Cindy. You walk away with nothing. Let’s not make this ugly.” Then came a long, suffocating silence. Followed by the automated recording of a 911 dispatch call. The operator kept repeating, “Hello? 911, what is your emergency? Hello?” No one answered. At the very bottom of the playlist description, written in a font so small it was almost invisible, was a single line of text: The wedding ring he bought her was paid for with the compensation money from your extracted kidney. Right as I locked my phone screen, a text from Nolan popped up. “Sweetheart, come with me to my mom’s house tomorrow. Her kidney issues are flaring up again. She wants to talk to you about something important.” I stared at the glowing screen and took a screenshot of the message. Whatever they wanted to “talk” about tomorrow, I already knew the punchline. … I kept staring at the screenshot, the icy chill of that bizarre audio recording still clinging to my fingertips. Ten years from now, I would die alone, clutching a phone connected to a silent 911 operator. But right now, the nightmare was only just beginning. I typed a simple “Okay” and spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness. The next morning, I pushed open the front door of the Davis family home. The smell of home-cooked food hit me instantly, but underneath it was a cloying, heavy scent of jasmine perfume. “Cindy! You made it.” A lazy, overly sweet voice drifted from the hallway. Ann strolled out of the kitchen wearing the silk apron that belonged to me, carrying a plate of sweet and sour ribs. She smiled radiantly, acting as if she were the lady of the house. “Nolan is in the study helping Auntie look for her meds. Wash your hands, we’re about to eat.” Watching the smug curve of her lips, my mind instantly overlaid her voice with the one from the recording—the woman who had mocked me as a “washed-up housewife.” That same heavy jasmine perfume had lingered on Nolan’s coat just last week. When I confronted him, he swore that a clumsy new intern had bumped into him at a company dinner. Now I knew that “intern” was Ann, the girl he had grown up with, his sweet little “honorary sister.” I ignored her pathetic attempt to play hostess and walked straight into the living room without taking off my shoes. Mrs. Davis was slumped on the sofa, clutching a medical report. She did look genuinely pale and sickly. Nolan walked out of the study holding a glass of warm water. When he saw me, his face lit up, and he hurried over to wrap his arm around my shoulders. “Sweetheart, thanks for coming over on a weekend.” His voice was so warm. The heat from his palm bled through the fabric of my blouse. Usually, I would have leaned into his embrace. But today, my stomach violently churned. I shifted my weight, subtly slipping out of his grip, and sat down on the single armchair. “How is your mom feeling? What did the doctors say?” Hearing my question, Mrs. Davis’s eyes instantly filled with tears. She pulled out a tissue and began dabbing at her eyes. “The doctor said conservative treatments aren’t working anymore. I absolutely need a kidney transplant.” Nolan let out a heavy sigh, sitting down next to her and holding her hand. “But finding a donor organ is nearly impossible. The national waitlist is years long, and my mom’s body simply can’t hold out that long.” Right on cue, Ann walked into the living room, placing the plate of ribs on the coffee table. Her voice cracked with manufactured grief. “If only my blood type was a match! I would gladly give my life for Auntie. But I’m Type B, and she’s Type O.” She turned her head, locking her gaze dead onto me. “Cindy, didn’t you say you were Type O?” The air in the living room suddenly froze. Mrs. Davis stopped sobbing. Nolan snapped his head up, staring at me with burning intensity. Three pairs of eyes. Three expectant faces. All waiting for me to throw myself into their sacrificial meat grinder. I picked up a glass of water from the table, my thumb casually tracing the warm rim. “Yeah. I’m Type O.” Nolan’s eyes lit up like fireworks. His tone shifted, becoming carefully, calculatingly gentle. “Sweetheart, I know this is an insane thing to ask, but… could you go to the hospital and get tested to see if you’re a match?” He swallowed hard, laying it on thick. “If you’re a match, I swear to God I will treat you like an absolute queen for the rest of our lives. I’ll do all the chores, I’ll give you every cent of my paycheck. Please.” I looked at his devoted, desperate face, while the echo of his cold, future voice—”walk away with nothing”—rang endlessly in my ears. I swallowed the bitter bile rising in my throat and set the glass down. “Sure. I’ll take a sick day tomorrow and go get tested.” Mrs. Davis immediately clasped her hands together in prayer, praising God and calling me the best future daughter-in-law in the world. Standing off to the side, Ann smirked. “Wow, Cindy, you’re so brave. I could never let someone slice me open with a scalpel.” I pulled my hand out of Mrs. Davis’s grasp and looked directly at Nolan. “But Nolan, a kidney transplant is a major surgery. The post-op recovery requires long-term, round-the-clock care.” “My current project at work is in a critical phase. I won’t be able to take months off to nurse her.” Nolan didn’t hesitate for a single second. “Your health and my mom’s life are way more important than some job! If you’re a match, just quit your job. I make enough to support us both.” “Besides, staying home to take care of my mom is a great way to prep for our married life together.” I stared at him and let out a soft, amused breath. “And what if I’m not a match?” Nolan flinched, clearly not expecting the question. “Whether you match or not, I’m going to take care of you for the rest of your life.” I stood up and grabbed my purse. “Don’t worry about it. I have some emails to catch up on. I’m heading back to the office.” Nolan scrambled up to walk me out, but I shut him down, saying I had already called an Uber. As I closed the car door, I glanced up. Standing in the living room window, Ann lifted her chin and shot me a deeply arrogant, victorious smirk. 2 Mercy General Hospital. I sat on a hard plastic chair with my lab slip, waiting for my blood draw. Nolan had promised to come with me, but half an hour ago he texted saying an “emergency morning meeting” had popped up at work. I texted back “No worries,” and locked my phone. “Number thirty-five. Cindy.” The nurse at the triage desk called my name. I stood up and walked over. The phlebotomist was quick and efficient. As the needle pierced my vein, I barely winced. “Miss, your boyfriend didn’t come with you today?” The nurse asked casually while pressing a cotton swab over the puncture site. I looked up. “You remember him?” She smiled, dropping the vials of blood into a rack. “Yeah, of course. Didn’t he come with you for your physical a few months ago?” “Actually, he was just here last week. He brought a younger girl in to do a kidney donor match test. She was Type O, too.” She leaned in, lowering her voice, a mix of juicy gossip and pity in her eyes. “That poor girl was terrified of needles. She cried her eyes out over a simple blood draw. Your boyfriend was babying her the whole time, hugging her, stroking her hair… It was hard to forget.” My fingers tightened violently over the cotton swab. My knuckles turned stark white. “That girl… did she have long hair, a beauty mark near her mouth, and smell like heavy jasmine perfume?” The nurse nodded, looking a little surprised. “Yeah, exactly! Is she your little sister or something?” I forced my facial muscles into a stiff, dead smile. “Something like that. She’s his honorary little sister.” Leaving the lab, I didn’t head for the exit. I walked straight up to the Nephrology Department and found the attending physician. Dr. Chen was a man in his late fifties. When I knocked and entered, he was updating a patient chart. “Dr. Chen? I’m Nolan’s fiancée. I wanted to ask about Mrs. Davis’s condition.” He looked up over the rim of his glasses. “Ah, Cindy, right? Did you get your blood drawn for the matching process?” “Just finished. Actually, I wanted to ask—has anyone else come in recently to see if they were a donor match?” Dr. Chen clicked through his computer records. “Yes, a relative named Ann got tested last week. Her results came back two days ago.” I stared dead into his eyes. “Was she a match?” He nodded, his tone strictly professional. “Her markers were highly compatible. She is a virtually perfect donor. However, she explicitly stated she was unwilling to donate, and we obviously cannot force her.” A wave of surreal, freezing horror washed over me, chilling me to the bone. Ann wasn’t just Type O blood. She was already a confirmed match. But yesterday, sitting in that living room, she had looked me dead in the eye and lied, claiming she was Type B and would “give her life” if she could. And Nolan… Nolan had held her hand while she got her blood drawn. He knew the results. Yet he sat there and watched her put on an Oscar-worthy performance to gaslight me. Then he had the nerve to use emotional blackmail to drag me to this hospital. They had it all mapped out. Ann’s body was too precious to scar, but I was just a walking, talking organ farm ready to be harvested. I walked out of Dr. Chen’s office and dialed Nolan’s number. It rang for a long time before he finally answered. In the background, I could hear the faint sound of running water. “Sweetheart, what’s up? Are you done with the test?” His voice was perfectly warm, laced with the raspy edge of someone who had just woken up. Listening to the running water, the temperature in my eyes dropped to absolute zero. “Where are you?” “At the office. I just got out of that brutal meeting, splashing some water on my face in the restroom.” Through the receiver, I heard an incredibly faint, soft, nasal woman’s voice. “Nolan… where did you put my bra?” The call disconnected instantly. I stood by the ventilation window in the hospital corridor, staring down at the endless stream of traffic, fighting back the urge to violently vomit. I finally understood why ten-years-in-the-future me had ended up dead on the floor. I had severely underestimated the depths of human depravity, and I had grossly overestimated Nolan’s humanity. Ten minutes later, Nolan called back. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry. My phone battery completely died. Did the blood work go okay? What did the doctor say?” His performance was utterly flawless. Not a single crack in his armor. I looked at my own pale reflection in the glass window and kept my voice perfectly flat. “It went fine. They said the results will take a few days.” “Thank you so much, sweetheart. I have to work late tonight, so don’t wait up for me. Get some sleep.” I hung up the phone and immediately called an Uber straight to Nolan’s office. The receptionist recognized me. She opened her mouth to say hello, but I put a finger to my lips, silencing her. I walked quietly to Nolan’s private office. The door wasn’t completely shut. A sliver of space remained. Ann was sitting on Nolan’s mahogany desk, swinging her bare legs, holding a cup of coffee. “Nolan, you seriously made her go do the match test?” Nolan leaned back in his leather executive chair, reaching out to pinch her cheek. “What was I supposed to do? Let them cut you open? You’re terrified of needles, baby. I’d never let them hurt you.” Ann giggled, a sharp, grating sound. “But what if she’s a match? Are you really going to make her give up a kidney? Won’t she throw a fit?” Nolan let out a condescending sneer. “She’s obsessed with me. I feed her a few romantic lines and she practically kisses my feet.” “Once they take her kidney, she’ll be too weak to work. She’ll be trapped at home, totally dependent on my paycheck. At that point, I own her.” I pulled out my phone, hit the voice memo app, and recorded every single disgusting word. When I had enough, I turned around and walked out of the building like a ghost. The lawyer handling my case was Gavin, a senior from my college who specialized in high-stakes corporate and marital asset litigation. I sent him the audio file along with six months of Nolan’s bank statements. “Gavin, I’m fairly certain he’s siphoning off our joint assets.” Gavin pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, tapping a pen against several massive withdrawals. “Your instincts are spot on. These transfers were flagged as ‘business investments,’ but the ultimate shell account they land in belongs to a woman named Ann.” He looked up at me, his expression turning grim. “Also, I pulled his credit history. Last month, he dropped a massive deposit at Cartier for a three-carat diamond ring. Paid in full.” I froze. A three-carat ring. Nolan had never even officially proposed to me. For three years, he fed me the same garbage excuse—his career wasn’t stable enough, he wanted to give me a perfect wedding, we needed to wait. “Who was the ring shipped to?” Gavin slid a printed invoice across the desk. Printed crystal clear at the top was a single name: Ann. I stared at the paper, suddenly overwhelmed by an intense wave of pity for the version of me from the future. He used the payout money from my harvested kidney to buy her a wedding ring. I didn’t even need to wait for the future. The betrayal was happening right now. “Cindy, you two aren’t legally married yet. But that media firm you built together? You provided seventy percent of the startup capital, but he’s listed as the sole legal CEO.” Gavin tapped the desk with a heavy rhythm. “He’s clearly setting up a hostile freeze-out. He wants to drain your accounts, take your company, and apparently, harvest your organs before he tosses you to the curb.” I took a deep breath, gathering the explosive documents and shoving them into my designer bag. “I understand. Gavin, draft up an aggressive equity clawback agreement for the company, and prep the demand letters for every single cent he embezzled.” “When the time is right, I’m going to rip it all out of his throat with interest.” By the time I left the law firm, the city was dark. I went back to the luxury apartment I shared with Nolan. I turned on the lights and stared at the sickening domesticity of it all. The matching couples’ slippers in the entryway. The framed photos on the wall. The succulents he supposedly planted just for me on the balcony. Every single object was screaming at me, mocking my absolute stupidity. I walked into the master bedroom, knelt down, and pulled out the hidden floor safe where we kept our emergency joint funds. The passcode was my birthday. I punched in the numbers. Click. The heavy steel door swung open. It was completely empty. The three hundred thousand dollars in high-yield bonds we had saved up? Gone. A solid gold heirloom necklace my late mother had left me? Gone. I calmly shut the safe, snapped a picture of the empty interior, and texted it to Gavin as supplemental evidence. Just as the text went through, the front door unlocked. Nolan walked in, holding a brown paper bag from my favorite dumpling spot downtown. “Sweetheart, I’m home. God, today was a nightmare. I was grinding at the office all night. Look, I brought your favorites.” He walked over, his face plastered with fake exhaustion, and leaned in to kiss me. I tilted my head, letting his lips graze the air past my cheek. “What’s wrong? Are you stressed about the test? Talk to me.” Completely oblivious to the radioactive anger radiating off me, he set the food on the dining table and wrapped his arms around my waist from behind. “My mom actually called me today. She said if you really are a match, we’re going to buy you the best post-op care money can buy.” He rested his chin on my shoulder, his voice as soft as poisoned honey. “Hey, sweetheart… if the test is a match, why don’t you sign over your equity shares in the media firm to me? You’ll need to stay home and rest, and I don’t want you stressing over corporate drama. I’ll take care of the business. You just take care of yourself.” I stared at our reflection in the dark glass of the living room window. “Sign them over to you? We built that company together.” Nolan let out a soft, dismissive chuckle, sounding totally entitled. “We’re basically married, Cindy. What’s yours is mine, right? You’re going to be weak, and I just want to protect you. Besides, my money is your money.” I spun around, locking eyes with him. “And what if I say no?” Nolan’s perfectly constructed mask slipped for a fraction of a second. His jaw tightened, but he quickly forced the loving smile back onto his face. “Babe, why are you being so paranoid all of a sudden? I’m trying to look out for you. Don’t you trust me?” Looking at his disgustingly fake face, I forced down the urge to vomit right on his shoes. “Of course I trust you. Let’s just talk about it later. The test results aren’t even back yet.” Hearing me back down, Nolan let out a quiet sigh of relief. “Okay, whatever you want. Oh, by the way, my mom wants to invite your parents over for a big dinner this weekend. We want to officially announce our engagement.” An engagement? I laughed internally. He was going to use a massive, public engagement party to socially back me into a corner and force me onto the operating table. I nodded slowly. “Sounds great. I’ll let my parents know.” Watching Nolan happily hum a tune as he walked into the bathroom to shower, I picked up the bag of my favorite dumplings and dropped it straight into the trash can. The results came back on a gloomy Thursday afternoon. Dr. Chen called me personally to tell me my genetic markers were a perfect match for Mrs. Davis. The transplant could proceed immediately. I thanked him calmly and sent a two-word text to Nolan. “It’s a match.” Three seconds later, my phone exploded. Nolan’s voice was vibrating with barely contained euphoria. “Are you serious, sweetheart?! Oh my god, that’s amazing! You saved her life! You are our family’s absolute savior!” I pulled the phone away from my ear, letting his nauseating praise play on speaker. “You have to dress up for the engagement party this weekend. I’ve invited my entire extended family. I’m going to stand on stage and thank you in front of everyone.” He paused, his voice dropping into a sickeningly sweet register. “And while we’re at it… let’s just get the consent forms signed, okay? The doctor said we need to move fast.” I looked out at the rolling gray storm clouds outside my office window and smiled coldly. “Can’t wait. See you this weekend.”

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1 My fingers were numb by the time Preston finally returned to the service station. Half an hour earlier, he’d claimed a stomach ache, so I’d dashed to the pharmacy. When I returned, the car was gone. Thirteen calls, zero answers. When he pulled up, his new intern Mona occupied my seat, wearing his wool coat and snuggled against my custom neck pillow. Preston exited, his first instinct to silence me. “Shh. Keep it down, she just fell asleep.” Mona stirred, offering an innocent smile. “Sorry, Claire. I get terrible motion sickness. Preston insisted I sit here. He said you wouldn’t mind.” I stared at the pillow he’d sourced specifically for my cervical spine issues. During the three-hour drive back, he fussed over her—was she cold, hungry, needing air? Meanwhile, I shivered in the back, gripped by abdominal pain that left cold sweat dripping down my spine. Later, while he showered, I photographed the designer lipstick she’d left behind and sent it to her. Since you love that seat so much, you can have his life too. I’m out. By the time Preston walked out of the bathroom, I had already gathered my pillows and moved into the study. The freezing wind from the service station had settled into my bones, and I couldn’t stop shivering. The bedroom door wasn’t fully closed. Before long, Preston’s soft, mumbled sleep-talk drifted down the hall. “Mona… sit up front… Claire won’t mind…” I clutched the edge of my pillow, my knuckles turning white. Mona. She had only been at his firm for three months, yet she was already occupying my seat, wearing his clothes, and using my things. Preston and I had been together for ten years. He used to tell me that the passenger seat would always be mine. Back when we were broke and he had just gotten his license, he had driven a beat-up old sedan with a broken air conditioner to pick me up. Despite the scorching heat, he had laid his own linen shirt over the passenger seat, flashing me a brilliant smile. “Claire, this spot is yours forever. No one else is allowed.” It turned out that forever had an expiration date. At five in the morning, the study door was thrown open. The harsh overhead light flared on, and Preston stood in the doorway, his expression thunderous as he clutched his phone. “Claire, what the hell is wrong with you? Why are you harassing Mona in the middle of the night?” I squinted against the light. “She certainly ran to you quickly.” “What do you mean by that?” Preston scoffed, crossing his arms. “She’s just a young girl, and you terrified her so badly she couldn’t sleep all night. It’s just a seat, Claire. Is it really worth this kind of drama?” “Just a seat,” I repeated slowly, letting out a bitter laugh. “If it’s just a seat, why didn’t you have her sit in the back?” He hesitated, his defensive posture slipping for a fraction of a second before he recovered. “She has motion sickness. You know that.” “I didn’t know that,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “I only know that my boyfriend complained of a stomach ache, and when I went to get him medicine, he drove off without me.” Preston’s face stiffened. “I waited at that service station in the freezing wind for forty-seven minutes,” I continued. “I called you thirteen times. You claimed your phone was dead, but Mona’s social media story from that exact hour shows your screen lit up on the dashboard.” He looked away, his jaw tightening. “She was using my phone to take a video. I didn’t notice the calls.” “You didn’t notice my calls, and you didn’t notice me waiting in the cold,” I said quietly. “But you certainly noticed the exact moment she fell asleep, warning me to close the door quietly.” Preston’s irritation flared, his voice rising. “Claire, must you always be so dramatic?” “I am not being dramatic,” I replied. He seemed to lose the last of his patience, his tone turning cold and dismissive. “Mona is new to the project team, and the client relations are incredibly delicate. She’s young, and I’m just looking out for her. Why must you always jump to the dirtiest conclusions?” Looking out for her. I had looked out for him for ten years. When his stomach lining ruptured, I had carried him to the hospital on my back in the middle of the night. When his first startup failed, I drained my savings account, giving up the down payment on my dream home to cover his payroll. When his insomnia got so bad he couldn’t sleep, I spent months studying scent design just to formulate an herbal sachet that would soothe him. Later, when he complained that my long hours at the fragrance lab made the house feel cold and empty, I gave up a prestigious promotion in the city center to take a quiet administrative job close to home. And now, he was giving that care to someone else, all while accusing me of having a dirty mind. I turned over, facing the wall. “Go care for whoever you want.” Preston’s voice cut through the quiet room like a whip. “Can you stop playing the victim for once in your life? Just because your father ran off with a student and your mother tried to end her life, you think every man on earth is bound to betray you, don’t you?” The silence that followed was heavy and suffocating. I slowly opened my eyes, staring at the dark wallpaper. I was sixteen when my father walked out, taking every penny of our savings and leaving nothing but a divorce decree. My mother had dragged me to his university, waiting in the courtyard for a night and a day. When she finally drank that bottle of poison, it was our neighbor who kicked the door down to save her. After that, our relatives treated us like we were cursed. It was Preston’s mother who finally took me into their home. Preston was seventeen then. He had slipped a warm, roasted sweet potato into my frozen hands, whispering, “Claire, my home is your home now. I will never make you wait.” I had believed him. I had staked the best ten years of my life on that promise. And now, he was using my deepest, most agonizing trauma to shield another woman. Preston seemed to realize he had gone too far, his mouth opening slightly before he closed it, let out a frustrated sigh, and turned away. “I’m heading to the office. You need to calm down.” The heavy front door slammed shut, rattling the windows. I sat in the silent study, unable to move. My phone lit up. It was a message from Mona. Claire, did Preston yell at you? Please don’t be mad at him. He was just worried about me. A second later, another image arrived. Oh, by the way, I forgot to leave your neck pillow in the car. But Preston said you probably have plenty of them anyway. I stared at the glowing screen, the pain in my abdomen turning into a cold, hollow ache. I turned the phone over, leaving the messages unanswered. As the sun slowly rose outside the window, I found myself thinking of my mother sitting in that cold courtyard, waiting for a man who was never coming back. I had promised myself I would never become her. But I had been waiting in the exact same spot for ten years. I just hadn’t realized it. At nine in the morning, the property manager called. “Miss Lin, we noticed a new temporary access code was registered to your garage yesterday. Did you authorize this?” I stood on the balcony, looking down. Preston’s black SUV was just pulling into the driveway. The passenger window slid down, and Mona leaned her head out, waving cheerfully at the security guard. Around her slender wrist, she was wearing my delicate pearl bracelet. I hung up the phone. Ten minutes later, Preston stepped into the apartment, carrying a bag of breakfast. There was fresh soy milk, warm pastries, and a small box of the sweet plum cakes I used to love. He set them on the table, his voice softening. “I went too far this morning. I’m sorry. Eat something first; your stomach is terrible.” I stared at the plum cakes. He used to drive across the city every weekend just to buy them for me. But as the years went on, he became too busy. He forgot my favorite foods, and he forgot that I couldn’t drink black coffee on an empty stomach. Now, he was bringing them to me like a peace offering, or perhaps a form of charity. “Did you buy these for her too?” I asked quietly. Preston’s hands froze, and his expression instantly turned cold. “Claire, that’s enough.” I pulled a pale pink hair tie from my pocket and placed it on the table, followed by the designer lipstick. “What about these?” He glanced at them. “Just things she dropped in the car.” “Then why did the car’s air freshener change from cedarwood to sweet peach? How did the glitter from her socks end up on the passenger floor mat? Why is her lip balm in the center console? And why is her yoga mat in the trunk?” I paused, holding up the security log. “And this. Why does she have an access code to our private garage?” Preston’s face twisted with frustration, but there was no guilt in his eyes, only anger at being questioned. “She had to retrieve some urgent project files from the house while I was out. I gave her a temporary code.” “Temporary?” I let out a soft, mirthless laugh. “She posted a picture of herself in our walk-in closet, wearing my silk robe, with the caption: Channeling my inner elegant lady. Preston says it looks perfect on me.” Preston slammed his hand down on the table, rattling the plates. “Enough!” The hot soy milk spilled over the edge of the cup, splashing onto my hand. I winced, pulling my hand back as the heat stung my skin. He saw it, but he quickly averted his eyes. “Mona is young and naive; she just likes to take pictures. It’s not as deep as you’re making it out to be. Look at yourself, Claire. You’ve become obsessed, tracking my every move like a paranoid warden.” I looked up at him. “And how am I supposed to behave?” He let out a cold laugh. “Like a normal person. Look at Mona: she’s young, sharp, and ambitious. She can draft a perfect proposal, handle difficult clients, and hold her own at business dinners. What about you? You’ve been an administrator for seven years, with no career growth and no ambition. Aside from cooking, cleaning, and organizing the house, what do you actually do?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Claire, you’ve turned into a complete bore.” A bore. My eyes stung, but I refused to let the tears fall. Seven years ago, I had received a prestigious offer from a major fragrance laboratory in the south. But that was the year Preston’s startup was failing, and he was hospitalized with a bleeding ulcer. He had clutched my hand from his hospital bed, begging me, “Claire, don’t leave. I need to know you’re here when I come home.” So, I stayed. I took a simple, quiet administrative job with no overtime so I could care for him, study his medications, and prepare warm meals for him every night. He had held me close then, calling me his sanctuary. But now that the storm had passed and his company was successful, he found his sanctuary boring. I stood up, deleting the access log from my phone. Preston frowned. “What are you doing now?” I looked at him, my voice entirely flat. “Since she’s so perfect, you should be with her. Let’s break up.” Preston’s first reaction wasn’t panic; it was a dismissive, arrogant smirk. “Are we doing this again, Claire?” He leaned back, looking entirely unbothered. “Whenever we fight, you just go stay at my mother’s house for a few days. How long do you want me to chase you this time? A day? A week?” I didn’t answer. “I have a dinner with a major client tonight, so don’t wait up,” he said, checking his watch. “And remember, Mona’s father is the key decision-maker for our upcoming merger. Don’t make trouble for her and ruin my business.” After the door closed, I slowly cleared the table, throwing every bit of the untouched breakfast into the trash. It turned out she wasn’t just naive; she was useful. And I was not. My phone buzzed again, this time with a short video from Mona. In the video, Preston was sitting at the head of a banquet table, surrounded by business partners. Someone laughed, clinking their glass. “Preston, what’s the plan with the girl at home? It’s been ten years; aren’t you going to marry her?” Preston took a sip of his wine, his expression entirely relaxed. “She’s not going anywhere.” Another man leaned in. “What about Miss Mona here? She’s already got the passenger seat; is she getting the ring next?” Mona shifted closer to him, her voice sweet and teasing. “Preston, is that seat mine forever?” Preston didn’t pull away. He simply smiled, murmuring, “Yes, it’s yours.” The video ended, followed by a final text from Mona. Claire, you planted the tree, but I’m the one enjoying the shade. Thanks for training him so well for me. I stared at the screen, a strange, hollow clarity settling over me. Preston didn’t cross those boundaries by accident; he simply believed I would never leave. I dialed my supervisor’s number. “Hi, Helen. I’d like to submit my resignation.” Helen was silent for a moment. “Claire, are you sure? You’ve been so steady here. The head office’s fragrance division actually asked about you last month, wondering if you’d be interested in returning to the creative line.” My throat tightened. “Yes, Helen. I’m sure.” “Alright,” Helen sighed gently. “I won’t process the paperwork just yet. I’ll hold your file for a couple of days. We all need to leave ourselves a way out.” After hanging up, I pulled my suitcase from the closet. As I unzipped it, a small velvet box rolled out. I opened it, expecting jewelry, but found a pair of matching leather keychains. The pink one was engraved with: Mona’s Spot. The black one was engraved with: Preston. At the bottom of the box was a sticky note: Once I have the seat, the man is next. I took a photo and sent it to Preston. She’s certainly eager to make it official. He didn’t reply. Instead, Mona sent me a screenshot of a digital invitation. It was a formal, elegant design: Preston & Mona’s Engagement Preview. Location: The Grand Plaza. Time: Tonight at 8:00 PM. Below it was the seating chart. Near the main table, there was a single, isolated seat labeled: Claire, Observer. Then, a text from Preston arrived. Come to the Grand Plaza tonight. I’ll explain. I stared at the message, realizing I no longer cared whether he loved me or not. I only wanted to know if, in the process of turning our ten years into a complete joke, he had ever felt a single shred of regret. At eight that evening, I walked into the Grand Plaza. I wasn’t there for an explanation; I was there to close the book. The venue was brilliantly lit, the rain having just stopped outside. As I approached the private dining suite, the doors were slightly ajar, and the sounds of laughter drifted out. “Preston, now that the preview is set, when do we get the actual wedding invitations?” Mona’s voice was sweet as honey. “That depends on when Preston decides to make me permanent.” “Is there really any difference at this point?” someone joked. I pushed the door open, and the laughter died down instantly. Preston sat at the head of the table, his jacket draped over his chair, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. He frowned the moment he saw me. “Why didn’t you knock?” I held up my phone, displaying the invitation and the video. “Explain.” Mona stood up immediately, her eyes turning watery. “Claire, please don’t misunderstand. The team made that seating chart as a joke; I had no idea.” I looked at her. “Was the video a joke too?” Her face paled, but she quickly managed to squeeze out a few tears. “I was just trying to keep the mood light. Why do you always have to make everything so difficult, Claire?” Preston stubbed out his cigarette, his voice flat. “Claire, don’t make a scene here.” I let out a soft laugh. “You invited me here for an explanation, didn’t you?” He remained silent. Mona stepped forward, grabbing my arm. “Let’s talk outside, Claire. Don’t embarrass Preston in front of his partners.” Her manicured fingers dug sharply into my wrist. The corridor outside was deserted and quiet. I silently tapped the record button on my phone, keeping it at my side. The moment the doors closed behind us, the tears vanished from Mona’s face, replaced by a cold, triumphant smirk. “I’m surprised you actually showed up.” “Did you put those keychains in my suitcase?” I asked. “Of course,” she said, crossing her arms. “How else were you going to realize it’s time for you to pack up and leave?” I turned to walk back to the room, but she stepped into my path, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “Claire, stop clinging to your ten-year history. If he wanted to marry you, he wouldn’t have kept you waiting for ten years, would he?” I paused, and her smirk widened. “The passenger seat belongs to the girl who can keep things fresh. You’ve been there too long; it’s time to step aside.” She leaned closer, her eyes flashing with malice. “And honestly, didn’t your mother spend her whole life waiting for a man, only to end up discarded anyway? Don’t be like her, Claire. It’s pathetic.” Slap! My hand connected sharply with her cheek, sending her head snapping to the side. She froze in shock for a second, then let out a piercing shriek. The suite doors flew open, and Preston rushed out, his expression dark with anger. Mona immediately collapsed against him, sobbing hysterically. “Preston, I was just trying to apologize to her, and she suddenly hit me…” Before I could speak, Mona grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward the elevator that led to the underground garage. “You said I took your things! I’ll give them back to you right now! Let’s go to the car!” She was surprisingly strong, dragging me toward the elevator doors before I could shake her off. Preston followed close behind, his voice tight with suppressed fury. “Claire, have you completely lost your mind?” We descended into the concrete garage in silence. Preston’s black SUV sat in its reserved space, the passenger door wide open, with Mona’s designer handbag resting on the leather seat. As we approached, the car’s automated system activated, and a sweet, recorded voice played through the speakers. It was no longer my voice saying, Preston, welcome home. Instead, Mona’s voice chimed cheerfully, Preston, have a wonderful day! I stood there, a sudden, cold laughter bubbling up in my chest. It wasn’t just the passenger seat. He had allowed her to systematically erase every trace of my existence from his life. My old jade pendant, which I had bought at a temple to keep him safe, was lying on the dirty floor mat under the passenger seat, its silk cord snapped in two. Mona knelt down to retrieve it, holding it up with a smug smile. “This old thing is so tacky. I was planning on buying him a designer replacement anyway.” I reached out to take it from her. But the moment my hand closed around it, she yanked her hand back, deliberately losing her balance and falling backward. As she fell, she gave me a sharp, sudden shove. I stumbled back, my bare arm colliding with the hot, exposed exhaust pipe of a parked motorcycle nearby. A sickening sizzle echoed in the quiet garage, followed by an agonizing flash of pain that made my vision blur. Preston didn’t even look at me. He immediately threw himself onto the concrete, pulling Mona into his arms, his voice shaking with concern. “Mona, are you alright?” Mona sobbed, shaking her head. “I’m okay… Claire didn’t mean to do it. She was just angry about the pendant.” Preston looked up at me, his eyes colder than the winter wind. “Claire, when did you become so vicious? Is a cheap piece of jade really worth hurting someone over?” I clutched my burning arm, the skin already blistering, my entire body shaking with pain. “She spoke about my mother,” I whispered. Preston let out an impatient scoff. “And was she wrong? Your mother spent her life waiting for a man who didn’t want her, and you’re doing the exact same thing. What’s the difference?” The concrete garage seemed to spin around me, the bright fluorescent lights blindingly white. I stared at him, the man who had sat with me in the dark on every anniversary of my mother’s death, whispering that she was the victim of a cruel, unfaithful man. And now, he was using that same tragedy to justify my humiliation. I couldn’t make a single sound. Preston noticed my pale face and finally saw the raw, blistered skin on my arm. He frowned slightly. “What happened to your arm?” Before I could answer, Mona let out a soft whimper. “Preston, my ankle… I think it’s broken. It hurts so much…” His attention snapped right back to her. He scooped her into his arms, carrying her toward the car, casting a final, indifferent glance over his shoulder. “Go get your arm cleaned up at the clinic. Once you’re done, apologize to Mona, and we’ll put this behind us.” I stood alone in the empty garage, the scent of sweet peach lingering in the cold air. I bent down, picking up the broken jade pendant from the concrete, its surface covered in dirt, much like the last ten years of my life. I pulled out my phone and stopped the recording. I had given him one last chance to be a decent human being, and he had thrown it away.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “463144”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

Flat broke and the family disgrace, I survived by playing the ultimate simp to Connor. Obsessed with the proud scholarship girl, he showered her with luxury—breakfasts, bags, cash, imported flowers. She rejected everything, so it all trickled down to me. I hoarded the cast-offs, funding my entire high school career. At graduation, his grand public confession failed. He curled a finger at me. “The ring is yours. Be with me?” I stared at the blinding fifteen-carat diamond and nodded. My college tuition was secured. We lasted seven years—until the scholarship girl joined his firm as his executive secretary. This time, she accepted everything, moving into the luxury mansion he provided. His circle braced for my breakdown; his buddy warned me not to be a crazy girlfriend. A guy like him would never marry a nobody like me; it was just for fun. At least his feelings for her were real. I’d seen the writing on the wall long ago. So, I accepted an overseas job offer. I refused to waste my life clinging to delusions of becoming his wife. 1 I was born for exactly one reason. To be a spare-parts baby for my sick older brother. But my bone marrow wasn’t a match. So my parents dumped me in a rundown rural town upstate to live with my grandma. She barely had a dime to her name. Growing up, we survived on her meager social security checks and whatever recycling she could collect to put me through school. By the time I hit high school, Grandma was getting too old to haul bags of cans around. My allowance was practically non-existent. After paying for class fees and textbooks, my food budget was shot. I chugged tap water every day just to kill the hunger pangs. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I would buy a cheap pack of stale bagels, split one into quarters, and stretch it out over two days. That was my life until the wealthy new transfer student, Connor, brought breakfast for Brooke, the scholarship girl in our class. It was a gourmet double cheeseburger and a steaming artisan latte. I had never eaten anything like that in my life. Just smelling it made my mouth water uncontrollably. Brooke coldly pushed his breakfast away. “I don’t need charity from some spoiled rich kid.” I stared at the food knocked onto the floor. I needed it. I walked over, picked it up, and handed it back to Connor. “Don’t be sad.” His eyes were totally red. He glared at me. “Who the hell said I’m sad?!” He stormed off, leaving the food behind. I figured it was fair game. I opened the wrapper and devoured it like a starving animal, tears of pure joy streaming down my face. Oh my god. That burger was the greatest thing I had ever tasted in my life. From that day on, I started quietly shadowing Connor. I had no hidden agenda. I just wanted to eat meat. He was relentless, bringing Brooke different luxury breakfasts every single day. Thanks to him, I sampled traditional English breakfasts, French pastries, German sausages, and high-end American brunches. A few times, I really wanted to warn him to skip the authentic French baguettes. They were way too hard. Chewing on those with cold tap water was a nightmare for my jaw. If I chipped a tooth, the dental bill would set me back at least fifty bucks. After a month of scavenging his rejected breakfasts, someone posted about me on the school’s anonymous gossip forum. They called me Connor’s delusional stalker. They said I ate the food thrown on the floor, crying as I chewed. They claimed I followed him around every day because I couldn’t stand seeing his true love trampled on, terrified that his heart would break. We became the school’s most pathetic love triangle. He simped for Brooke, and I simped for him. I was at the absolute bottom of the food chain. 2 I actually wanted to pull him aside and clear the air. I wanted to tell him I wasn’t secretly in love with him. I was just starving. I wasn’t terrified of his true love being trampled. I was terrified of good food going in the trash. But right as I approached him, I caught him trying to hand Brooke a handbag. The bag was covered in that iconic monogram pattern. Wouldn’t the straps snap if you tried to carry textbooks in that thing? Brooke arrogantly pushed him away again. “Don’t think buying me an eight-thousand-dollar bag is going to make me fall for you. I’m not a gold digger.” Eight… eight thousand? That tiny piece of leather cost eight grand? Connor let out a cold laugh and pointed right at me. “You. Come here.” I stumbled over, totally dazed. “Are you in love with me?” I looked at his face, as cold and sharp as ice. I looked him up and down. Even in a basic prep school uniform, he radiated wealth. To be honest, Connor was incredibly hot. He had that old-money aesthetic, sharp cheekbones, and an unruly, rebellious edge. In our small, rundown town, he stood out like a sore thumb. He was pale, gorgeous, and so arrogant no one dared to breathe the same air as him. But my mind instantly flashed back to the juicy pulled pork sandwich from that morning. I swallowed hard. “I’m just hungry. I want to eat…” My intense, hungry stare actually made his ears turn bright red. He shoved the designer bag roughly into my arms. “Enough. Girls should have some modesty. What kind of wild stuff are you saying? Just take the bag. It’s useless to me anyway.” I clutched the bag to my chest, smiling so hard my face hurt. This was eight thousand dollars. This could take so much weight off Grandma’s shoulders. I could buy her a massage chair. I could finally take her to a real doctor for her bad back. And more importantly, I wouldn’t just get gourmet breakfasts anymore. I could afford the premium meat combo at the cafeteria for lunch. Connor physically flinched at my blinding smile. He crossed his arms and raised a challenging eyebrow at Brooke. “See? You don’t want it, but plenty of people do. Look how happy she is.” Brooke furrowed her perfect brows, glaring at me like I was absolute trash. “You have no self-respect. Getting tangled up with a rich kid like him is going to ruin your reputation.” She hugged her textbooks to her chest and marched away in disgust. Connor slumped down on the curb, looking completely defeated. He started digging through his pockets. I rushed forward and grabbed his wrist. “No smoking.” We were still in high school. Getting caught smoking meant suspension. “Who said I’m smoking? I’m eating a lollipop.” He pulled two lemon-flavored lollipops out of his pocket and shoved one into my hand. We sat on the curb for a long time, quietly eating our candy. He told me to stop following him around. He wasn’t going to give up on Brooke. I rejected his request without a second thought. “No.” If I left him, who was going to buy me breakfast? Who was going to hand me eight-thousand-dollar bags? His face flushed scarlet, and he ran away. 3 I shadowed Connor for the rest of high school. The whole school mocked us as the Simp Duo. Neither of us ever gave up. Okay, technically they mostly mocked me. Connor had the looks and the bank account, so no one really dared to laugh in his face. If they knew exactly what I was gaining from this arrangement, they would have died of jealousy. Connor gave Brooke a mountain of luxury gifts. A Cartier necklace worth five grand. Imported exotic roses that I picked up and immediately flipped to a local florist for three thousand. Aside from the scavenging, Connor and I actually got pretty close. Brooke hated lazy trust-fund kids, so he decided to actually try in school. He hired me as his private tutor. A hundred and fifty bucks an hour. Plus a hundred-dollar bonus for every spot he moved up in the class rankings. During our study sessions, he would vent about his parents. They never paid attention to him. They only threw money at him. He deliberately acted out just to get their attention. The only time he ever saw them was when they were called into the principal’s office. Recently, he had entered an illegal underground motorcycle race and nearly died crashing into a mountain road. His parents were so furious they dumped him in this rural town to “build character” and forced him to live in this “shithole.” I stared around the massive, four-thousand-square-foot luxury cabin. A shithole. I was going to die of jealousy. Why couldn’t I have parents who completely ignored me and just threw thousands of dollars at my face? My parents just ignored me. They didn’t even bother coming back to see me on holidays. They had wanted to throw me away from the start. In a town like ours, unwanted baby girls were sometimes just drowned in buckets, and no one batted an eye. Grandma had fished me out of the water. She insisted on raising me, even when my parents explicitly told her they wouldn’t give her a single dime. Paying for my brother’s medical bills had drained all their savings. I never really understood it. We were both their children. Why couldn’t I get even a tiny fraction of their love? Connor was throwing a pity party over a five-hundred-thousand-dollar yearly allowance. What kind of tragic role was he trying to play? The sorrow of the ultra-rich was truly beyond my peasant comprehension. If my parents were willing to give me even five hundred bucks a year, I would have cried tears of absolute gratitude. I wouldn’t have had to spend every summer wading through muddy creeks to catch fish and snails to sell at the market just to buy food. I wouldn’t have had to work under-the-table jobs every winter break, dealing with shady bosses who stole half my paycheck. If I dared to ask for my missing wages, they would just scream at me to take it or leave. And I would have to swallow my pride and keep working just to keep those pathetic scraps. When I was little, the hunger was so bad I used to lick the salt shaker just to taste something. Watching Connor act so tragically depressed, I offered a very dismissive reply. “Wow, that sucks. But don’t be too sad. There’s always someone out there who loves you unconditionally. You just have to look for it.” His parents were just busy. How could they not love him? He looked at me, his face suddenly turning bright red. He looked down, awkwardly flipping through his workbook, and snapped at me. “Stop saying stuff like that.” “Alright, let’s just study. If you don’t want to hear it, I won’t say it.” After studying, I even took the liberty of showing off my cooking skills. Mostly because his fridge was packed with high-end cuts of meat I had never seen before in my life. “You don’t have to be this nice to me. It won’t work.” I felt a surge of guilt and violently stuffed my face with Wagyu beef that was about to spill out of my bowl. Rich people even named their cows differently. This meat was so tender and incredibly flavorful. “I’m not being that nice.” After all, his bowl was mostly noodles with barely any meat. He gave me a weird look, sighed heavily, and went back to eating his noodles in silence. Afterward, he gave me a ride home on his motorcycle. I asked him three times if he actually had a license. He told me he was held back a year because of bad grades, so he was already eighteen and fully licensed. That was one thing we had in common. I wasn’t held back, but we couldn’t afford school early on, so I started late. I was eighteen too. He looked genuinely cool riding that bike. The night wind was freezing. I hopped off the back of the motorcycle. He planted his feet on the ground, pulled off his helmet, looked around the desolate area, and casually asked, “Which one is your house?” I pointed at the crumbling trailer ahead. That was an actual shithole. “Right there.” He twitched his lips. “I thought that was an abandoned shed.” Was he serious right now? “Alright, hurry up and go home. It’s late. There might be wild animals out here. It’s not safe.” “Aw, you care about me.” “Obviously.” He was my ultimate sugar daddy. I desperately wanted him to stick around this town for as long as possible. He quickly jammed his helmet back on and sped off into the night. 4 Later on, I scored a debit card loaded with fifty thousand dollars that Brooke had thrown away. Brooke’s mother had fallen severely ill, and Connor had tried to give her the rest of his yearly allowance to help out. She tossed the card right back at him. “You can’t buy love with money. Stop coming after me.” Connor was already used to the rejections. He just froze for a second. “I only want to help you.” “I don’t need it.” I picked up the card and shoved it back into Connor’s hand. “Don’t be sad. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. At least she doesn’t look at you with total disgust anymore.” He gave a weak, mocking smile, looking at me like he was thanking me. “You didn’t pocket this one.” He was totally used to me scavenging his rejected trash. “Well, I don’t know the PIN code.” I gave him an awkward, sheepish smile. “052100. It’s my birthday.” I took the card, marched straight to the hospital billing department, and paid off Brooke’s mother’s medical debt. With the leftover cash, I paid for Grandma’s surgery. Thankfully, it was just a minor procedure to remove some polyps. That night, Connor was so heartbroken he dragged me out to drink with him until dawn. He told me he genuinely, deeply loved Brooke. “What do you even like about her?” “Love at first sight. Some people are just like that. You see them once, and they’re stuck in your head forever. But every time I try to pursue her, she thinks I’m trying to humiliate her with my money.” I took a slow sip of my Coke. Why couldn’t someone specifically humiliate me with money? Thank god I was proactive about picking up the scraps. “I’ve studied my ass off this whole year just to match her class rank. I joined her clubs just to be near her. But she’s always so damn cold to me.” I noticed he was dangerously close to crying. Feeling a little sentimental myself, I patted him gently on the back. “You still have time. Don’t give up. Stone can be worn away by drops of water. Maybe she’ll accept you soon.” Thinking about how much weaker Grandma looked after her surgery, my own eyes started to turn red. He frantically shoved a pack of tissues into my hands. “If it hurts you this much, you don’t have to lie and cheer me on.” 5 I managed to drag his grades up from dead last at 360th to the top 200. His scores were a solid hundred points higher than when he first transferred. His parents in New York originally wanted to bring him back, but they decided to let him stay in our rural town to take his SATs. After all, his grades at the elite Manhattan prep school had been a total disaster. He was actually doing better out here in the sticks. When I heard the news, I was ecstatic. I was so happy I treated him to dinner at a nice local diner, ordering a whole table of expensive dishes I had craved for years but never dared to buy. “I’m staying, and you’re this happy?” “Of course I’m happy.” If his grades kept going up, I would make more bonus money. Then I could afford to apply to out-of-state colleges. Living in a big city was expensive. I needed to leave enough money for Grandma to survive comfortably, and I needed cash for plane tickets to visit her during summer and winter breaks. Every single thing required money. I had been craving this diner’s food for ages but could never justify the cost. Biting into a piece of perfect braised pork, I nodded furiously, smiling so hard my cheeks ached. Suddenly, a finger flicked me hard on the forehead. “You’re smiling like an idiot.” 6 On graduation day, he prepared a massive, theatrical confession. Honestly, it was way too extra. He even brought out a diamond ring the size of a pigeon egg. A massive crowd gathered to watch. Brooke massaged her temples, looking like she had a massive migraine. “Can you stop acting like a child? All you ever think about is romance and dating. I have a real life to build. I can’t afford to waste time on spoiled rich boys like you.” This time, Connor didn’t seem too heartbroken. Maybe the endless string of rejections had finally numbed him. He turned around and waved a finger at me. “Riley, do you want to go out with me?” I saw the lingering traces of sadness buried deep in his eyes. I saw the mocking stares of the crowd around us. And then I saw the massive diamond. That thing had to be worth a fortune. I nodded like my life depended on it. Yes, absolutely yes. When he slid the ring onto my finger, it was too small and got stuck on my second knuckle. Brooke froze for a long second before letting out a sneer of absolute disgust. “You two brainless idiots actually deserve each other.” I strongly disagreed with her assessment. I had just been accepted into Stanford on a full ride. And after three years of brutal, relentless studying, Connor had managed to get into Stanford too. Who the hell was brainless? We were the ultimate academic comeback story. 7 And just like that, we were together. I originally thought we were just putting on a show. I figured once the graduation hype died down, we would quietly go back to being somewhat-friends. But he actually took the boyfriend role seriously. He didn’t even go back to New York that summer. He stayed and helped Grandma with the farm chores and fed the chickens. Grandma was still recovering from surgery and needed the rest. A city boy like him had no idea how to do manual labor. He made an absolute fool of himself. He wiped out in the mud trying to plant vegetables, getting covered in filth from head to toe. He got chased around the yard by aggressive roosters while trying to feed them. He made Grandma and me laugh until our stomachs hurt. He even promised Grandma he would take good care of me at Stanford. And he actually kept his word. Thanks to him, I flew first-class for the first time in my life on our way to California. For all four years of college, he treated me incredibly well. He officially took over providing that daily gourmet breakfast he used to throw away. He even took culinary classes and started cooking for me from scratch. On holidays, he drowned me in expensive gifts. He memorized my class schedule and enrolled in all the exact same electives. He matured so much during those years. He grew into a truly magnetic, compelling man. Whenever girls confessed to him or asked for his number, he would just point at me. “I have a girlfriend.” They would usually sneer at my basic clothes. “She’s completely average and dresses like a charity case. She’s not good enough for you.” He would glare at them with absolute ice. “You’re not even in the same stratosphere as her. Don’t embarrass yourself by trying to compare.” Whenever I got sick, he stayed by my side and nursed me back to health. Once, I came down with a severe fever. After getting an IV drip at the clinic, I went back to my cheap off-campus apartment to rest. He expertly cooked me a light soup, fed me my meds, and constantly checked my forehead to see if the fever was breaking. Aside from Grandma, he was the first person to ever care for me with that kind of devotion. After my fever broke, I looked at him slumped over asleep in the chair next to my bed. I asked if he wanted to come up and sleep on the mattress so he’d be more comfortable. The first thing he said when he climbed in, his eyes burning with absolute seriousness, was: “I’m a guy. Are you really sure this is a good idea?” I looked him up and down. In college, he had started hitting the gym hard. He had an eight-pack, he’d grown even taller, easily hitting six-foot-two. His face had lost its boyish softness and become incredibly striking and sharp. Human nature is human nature. Honestly, I kind of wanted to test drive him. “We’re dating, aren’t we? Even if something happens, it’s completely normal.” After he got into bed, I realized I had slept too much during the day and was wide awake. I propped my head on my hand, tracing the sharp lines of his face. I felt something rigid pressing against my thigh. “Stop pretending to be asleep.” His eyes snapped open. He yanked me into his chest, his voice dangerously hoarse. “You started this.” We kissed. It was our first truly intense, overwhelming kiss. Not just a soft press of lips. It was heavy with raw desire. His hands were shaking as they slipped beneath my nightgown. “Is this okay?” I teased him. “Maybe not. I’m still sick.” His face turned bright red. He looked at me, totally frustrated and incredibly pathetic, and moved to roll over and go to sleep. After a long pause, I stopped teasing him. I kissed him softly and pulled his hand back. … His body was definitely top-tier. But the actual performance was a serious letdown. Feeling a little disappointed, I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face in his chest. “Let’s just go to sleep.” His neck went stiff, and his face burned scarlet. “It’s just because you teased me for so long! Give me another chance. I… it was my first time. I didn’t know what I was doing. I promise it won’t happen again.” He tormented me for the entire rest of the night. I was literally crying, begging him to stop. I told him it was enough. I told him he was incredibly gifted. I apologized for ever doubting his stamina. He refused to stop. “You were disappointed. I have to make it up to you, babe.” Finally, I had to use the excuse that I was still recovering from a fever, and my body genuinely couldn’t take it anymore, before he finally let me go. After that night, Connor seemed to unlock a new obsession. He constantly pressured me to move into his luxury penthouse. But I stubbornly insisted on staying in my cheap, cramped apartment. So he just started crashing at my tiny place, exhausting me every single night. For four years, we were perfectly fine. Sometimes, looking at the endless, manic energy he poured into me. During those countless intimate nights in bed, he would look at me with dazed eyes and whisper that he loved me to death. He said it so often that sometimes, I actually started to hallucinate that his love was real.

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After my confession to my childhood best friend was rejected, I cried my eyes out at Aunt Gwen’s place. But then, by some stroke of absolute luck, I caught him through the crack of his bedroom door, staring at a photo of me, completely lost in his own feverish world. “I can’t… give in too easily…” he muttered, his voice strained. “…God, I love her… Daisy…” I peeked through the gap. He was half-reclining on his bed, his head tilted back against the headboard, his neck stretched tense, a deep, feverish flush creeping up his collar and staining his cheeks. I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to quiet my frantically pounding heart. A slow, amused smile curled my lips. Unbelievable. Who knew this idiot had a completely different side to him? 1 When Danny finally stepped out of his bedroom, he caught me with my arms wrapped around his mother, looking like the most miserable girl on earth. “Aunt Gwen, I think it’s time I moved out,” I sniffled, playing the part of the heartbroken victim. Gwen gently wiped away my tears, her heart breaking for me. “Don’t listen to that foolish boy. This will always be your home.” I gently pulled back from her embrace. “But I’ve already packed my bags. I’m leaving tonight.” Danny, who had been pretending to fetch a glass of water, froze. His gaze locked onto the bright red suitcase sitting by the front door, his expression blank with shock. “Daisy, what is the meaning of this? No one is kicking you out,” he said, his voice tight. “Can’t a girl just want to go back to her own apartment?” “Your place is miles away from your office. How are you even going to commute?” I ignored him, walking over to grab the handle of my suitcase. Panic flared in Danny’s eyes. In a flash, he stepped in front of me, blocking the door. “My mom loves having you here. Besides, I drive you to work every single day and look after you. Are you seriously telling me you’re just going to leave?” “Yes.” I finally looked up, meeting his eyes. “You said it yourself, Danny. You said my feelings for you are just a habit because we’ve never been apart. You said if we put some distance between us, I’d probably fall for someone else.” I paused, letting the words sink in. “I thought about it all night, and you’re right. So, I’m going to go out there and see what else the world has to offer.” Danny went completely rigid. “I…” He opened his mouth to explain, to plead, but the words seemed to choke him. Behind his back, Gwen covertly gave me a subtle thumbs-up. With a knowing nod, I rolled my suitcase past him and stepped out into the hallway. The moment the door clicked shut behind me, I heard Gwen’s hand smack hard against Danny’s back. “You idiot! What are you doing? Go after her!” “Mom, I only see her as a sis…” “Cut the crap! Do you honestly think your own mother can’t see right through you? Stop playing stupid!” “You don’t understand, Mom! It’s not like that, I…” I didn’t look back, but a triumphant smile was already spreading across my face. Danny, if you love playing hard to get this much… I’m going to drag you down and make you my absolute puppy. 2 Back in my own apartment, I sat on my bed and scrolled through my chat history with Danny. We had texted every single day, from our school years right up to our corporate lives. He had never missed a beat when it came to taking care of me. He would bring me late-night snacks when I worked overtime. He would show up with an umbrella outside my office building before the rain even started. Even when I casually mentioned craving a dessert from a bakery across town, he would drive forty minutes just to get it for me. Yet, when I confessed to him yesterday, his immediate reaction was to push me away. “Daisy, can you actually tell the difference between love and habit?” he had asked, sounding so clinical. “Do you even know what real love is before you throw a confession at me?” I had been so angry and humiliated in that moment. But thinking back on it now… When he asked those questions, his eyes were darting around, his posture incredibly stiff. Pff. What a total fraud. I tossed my phone onto the bed. On my first day back at my place, I didn’t send him a single message. Determined to play his little game, he didn’t text me either. The chat screen remained dead silent. The second day, still nothing. On the afternoon of the third day, a notification finally popped up from Danny. [Daisy, are you seriously not coming back to stay?] Looking at the screen, my lips curved into a smug smile. Oh, Danny. Only three days and you’re already losing your cool? You have absolutely no game, yet you tried to play me. Hilarious. I flipped my phone face down on the desk and went back to my work, leaving him on read. 3 On the fourth day, he managed to hold back and didn’t send any more messages. I wasn’t in any rush. After clocking out, I happily joined my colleagues for a dinner party. A few drinks in, I took a group photo and posted it to my social media. In the photo, my cheeks were flushed a pretty pink from the alcohol, flanked by handsome guys and beautiful girls laughing and talking. Within ten minutes of posting, a text from Danny flashed across my screen. [Are you out drinking? How much did you have? When are you coming home?] Of course, I didn’t reply. A second later, my phone began to ring. I answered it, keeping my voice airy. “Send me your location,” his voice demanded, rough and urgent. “I’m coming to pick you up right now.” “No need, Danny. Someone is already driving me home.” Silence stretched over the line for a few agonizing seconds before his voice spiked. “You’re drunk and you’re just going to get into a stranger’s car? Daisy, do you have a single brain cell left in that head?” I smirked silently. He was practically dying of anxiety, yet his mouth was still as stubborn as ever. I decided to push his buttons a little harder. “He’s not a stranger. Actually, he’s my new crush.” I let out a soft sigh. “You were right, Danny. My feelings for you weren’t real love. I’m so glad you rejected me and made me realize it. Thanks for the wake-up call!” Without giving him a chance to speak, I hung up. He tried calling back several times, but I ignored every single one. A delicious thrill of excitement rushed through my veins. 4 When the dinner ended, I walked out of the restaurant side-by-side with Gavin. Gavin was a new designer at our firm. He was tall, handsome, had a great personality, and most importantly, he genuinely liked me. He was the one who had offered to drive me home. The moment we stepped outside, a familiar car caught my eye. Danny was leaning against the hood, hands shoved deep into his pockets, his gaze locked onto the restaurant exit. A split second later, his eyes found me with laser-focused precision. Impressive. He found me so fast. He really didn’t disappoint. Pretending to be startled, I widened my eyes. “Danny? What are you doing here?” He didn’t answer. His eyes swept over my flushed face before landing coldly on Gavin beside me. I introduced Danny to Gavin with a sweet, overly familiar tone, calling him my “childhood friend.” Gavin offered a polite greeting and reached out, about to guide me to his car. Suddenly, Danny grabbed my wrist. “No need to trouble yourself,” Danny said, his voice clipped. “She’s with me. She lives at my place.” Before Gavin could even process the words, Danny pulled me toward his passenger side, ignoring Gavin who was trying to call after us. He slammed the door, got into the driver’s seat, and hit the gas, the tires screeching as we sped away. I sat in the passenger seat in complete silence, my face darkened to look like he had just ruined my perfect night. Danny glanced at me several times, opening his mouth as if to speak, but closing it each time. I knew exactly what he was doing. He was waiting for me to break the ice first, just like I always did. Even now, he was still holding onto his stupid pride. He clearly hadn’t realized the power dynamics had shifted. Fine. I closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep, keeping the silence absolute all the way back. When the car stopped, I opened my eyes and looked out the window. Of course, he had brought me back to his house. “You’re staying here tonight,” he murmured. For once, I didn’t argue. I silently walked to my old room, went inside, and shut the door behind me with a firm click. I knew that silence was the ultimate torture for him. Enjoy it, Danny. 5 After a relaxing hot shower, I threw myself onto the bed. Just as I was about to drift off, a soft knock sounded at the door. Danny stood on the other side, his voice muffled and low. “Daisy? Are you asleep?” I remained quiet. He lingered outside for a long moment before his heavy footsteps slowly faded down the hallway. I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow. The fabric smelled of fresh laundry and sunshine. I had noticed it the moment I walked in: the bedsheets weren’t the ones I left behind. They were brand new, featuring my favorite cartoon character. Since Aunt Gwen was away on a business trip, Danny had to have changed them himself. Even the framed photo of me on the nightstand had been moved slightly. An image automatically popped into my mind. After I left, Danny must have wandered into this room countless times, staring at my picture and aching with regret. If he knew it would hurt this much, why did he have to be such a fool and reject my confession in the first place? Oh well. This was the perfect opportunity to train him. The next morning, I made sure to slip out of the house before Danny even woke up. As I reached the kitchen, I noticed breakfast already waiting on the dining table. Of course. We grew up together. He knew my routine like the back of his hand. The sandwich was sliced into perfect triangles, sitting next to a glass of warm milk and a sticky note. [Daisy, make sure you eat before you leave.] I took a bite of the delicious sandwich, crumpled the note into a tight ball, and tossed it into the trash. It tasted amazing. But I didn’t care about his notes. I wanted to see him on his knees, begging for me. 6 For the next week, my routine was like clockwork. I left the house at seven in the morning and didn’t return to Danny’s place until ten at night. I didn’t know what Danny had told my parents, but my mom had actually sent my suitcases back to his house, likely using Gwen’s name as an excuse. But Danny didn’t dare show up at my office to pick me up. I had warned him: if he ruined my chances with Gavin, I would go sleep at Gavin’s place instead. That terrified him. So he changed his strategy, sending tentative texts asking if I’d be home for dinner. Sometimes I texted back a flat “no,” and sometimes I just ignored him completely. However, I still ate the breakfast he prepared every morning. And occasionally, I’d throw him a bone and let him drive me to work. You can’t keep the leash too tight when you’re training someone; you have to pull and release. On the eighth night, I came home particularly late. Danny was sitting on the living room sofa. The television was on, but his eyes were completely vacant. On the dining table, several dishes sat untouched, cold. When he saw me walk in, he stood up, his voice slightly hoarse. “You’re back.” “Yeah. I already ate with Gavin. You should eat your dinner.” I kicked off my shoes and immediately headed toward my room. “Daisy,” he called out from behind me. “Are you planning to keep this up forever?” 7 I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at him. “Keep what up?” “You’ve changed. You’re so cold to me.” Danny took a step forward, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re angry with me because I rejected your confession, aren’t you? Daisy, the truth is…” “Angry?” I tilted my head, putting on a look of pure innocence. “Why would I be angry? I told you last time, your words actually helped me clear my head. Gavin and I have been getting along incredibly well lately.” Danny’s fingers twitched, curling slightly into his palms. “…Is that so?” “Absolutely. Gavin is sweet, attentive, and always treats me like a princess. It feels amazing being with him.” I deliberately let my eyes drift down to his tightening fists, a slight smirk playing on my lips. “Wait, Danny. You aren’t jealous, are you?” His expression froze for a split second before he let out a harsh, defensive laugh. “Jealous of you? In your dreams.” Perfect. I almost laughed out loud. It was time to bring out the heavy artillery. I smiled warmly, my eyes crinkling. “Actually, Gavin and I are official now. He’s throwing a dinner party the day after tomorrow to introduce me to everyone. You should come.” The moment the words left my mouth, all the color drained from Danny’s face. “Daisy! Are you out of your mind? How could you…” “How could I confess to you one day and start dating someone else the next?” I interrupted, letting out a soft, amused chuckle. “You were the one who rejected me. What, did you expect me to stay single and mourn a relationship we never even had?” Danny’s face turned utterly pale. His lips parted, but no sound came out. I spun around gracefully and walked back into my room. As the door clicked shut, I heard him draw a sharp, ragged breath outside, as if trying to hold back a flood of emotions. I leaned against the door, my smile widening. Come on, Danny. Let’s see how much longer you can last. 8 The dinner party was set for Friday night. I specifically chose a stunning red dress that made my fair skin pop. When Gavin came to pick me up, his eyes went completely wide. “Daisy, you look absolutely breathtaking tonight.” “Thank you,” I smiled, slipping my hand through his arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a slight movement of the curtains on the second floor. At the restaurant, a dozen colleagues and friends had already gathered. As I walked in arm-in-arm with Gavin, the room erupted into cheers and teasing. “Look at you two! What a gorgeous couple!” “Nice job, Gavin! You actually snatched our Daisy!” I laughed and mingled, my eyes casually sweeping the room. Danny wasn’t there yet. Just as the thought crossed my mind, the heavy wooden door of the private dining room swung open. Danny walked in. For this celebratory occasion, he had dressed in a stark black shirt, making his sharp features look cold and unyielding. His eyes immediately locked onto my hand wrapped around Gavin’s arm. His gaze was intense enough to burn a hole right through Gavin’s skin. “This is my childhood friend,” I introduced him with a bright smile. “Hey, man! Good to see you again,” Gavin said warmly, extending his hand. Danny looked down at the hand, then looked up to meet Gavin’s eyes. “Hello.” The single word was cold enough to freeze the room. Ignoring the outstretched hand entirely, Danny walked straight past Gavin and took a seat at the far end of the table, as far away from me as possible. I whispered to Gavin not to mind him, joking that my childhood friend was just having a bad day. Throughout the entire dinner, Danny barely touched his food, only downing glass after glass of whiskey. He didn’t speak to anyone. He just sat there, staring at me. Like a predator waiting in the shadows. I deliberately put food on Gavin’s plate, rested my head on his shoulder, and let him gently wipe a speck of sauce from the corner of my mouth. Every single time I did, Danny’s grip on his glass tightened, his knuckles turning white. Midway through the dinner, I excused myself to go to the restroom. The moment I stepped into the dimly lit hallway, a hand clamped around my wrist. The grip was so strong it made me stumble. Before I could react, I was pulled into the quiet stairwell. 9 “Danny! What do you think you’re—” My words were cut off as he pressed me flat against the concrete wall. He pinned his hands on either side of my head, trapping me in the narrow space between his arms. The faint light from the hallway seeped through the crack of the door, illuminating the fierce, bloodshot glaze in his eyes. “Daisy,” his voice was incredibly raw, trembling slightly. “Are you really with him?” I tilted my head back, looking at him defiantly. “Of course. Did you think the dinner party was a joke?” I scoffed. “Danny, since when do you care so much about my love life?” His breath caught. “No. You wouldn’t be with him. I don’t believe it.” “Why wouldn’t you believe it? Gavin is handsome, sweet, and he treats me—” “What about me!” He suddenly roared, the raw emotion he had been bottling up finally bursting through. “Daisy, what the hell am I to you!” The stairwell fell dead silent. Only the sound of our ragged, heavy breathing echoed against the concrete. Looking at his bloodshot eyes, his trembling lips, and the prominent veins bulging on his clenched fists, a sudden wave of dark satisfaction washed over me. “You?” I let out a soft, mocking laugh. “You’re like a brother to me.” I smiled up at him. “Didn’t you say so yourself? You only see me as a sister.” He flinched violently, as if he had been struck across the face. “I…” “You what?” I took a step forward, forcing him to lean back. “You sounded so righteous when you rejected me, Danny.” “So who are you putting on this pathetic display for now?” “Are you regretting it?” “Are you jealous?” “Does it tear you apart inside to see me with someone else?” With every question I threw at him, his face grew paler. Finally, his back hit the cold brick wall. He had nowhere left to retreat. I stood on my tiptoes, leaning in close to his ear, my lips curling into a cruel whisper. “It’s too late, Danny.” “The way you’re acting right now… honestly makes me sick.” 10 When we got back that night, Danny locked himself in his room. As I walked past his door, I heard the muffled, crashing sound of something being hurled against the wall and shattering. Aunt Gwen wasn’t home to keep him in check. In an excellent mood, I took a warm shower, changed into my silk pajamas, and crawled into bed to scroll through my phone. A message from Gavin popped up: [How was my performance tonight?] [Brilliant, Oscar-worthy,] I texted back. [Is your childhood friend going to be okay? The way he looked at me, I thought he was going to murder me on the spot.] [Don’t worry about him. He brought this on himself.] As I typed the words, a smug smile played on my lips. Serves him right. That’s what he gets for playing hard to get. For holding onto his ridiculous pride. Now he finally knows how much it hurts. My phone vibrated again: [Daisy, please think about my offer seriously. I wasn’t entirely acting.] Well, great. Now I had a genuine heart to deal with. Gavin was a great guy, but we had simply met too late. As you grow up, you realize that timing in life is everything. It was late. I switched off the bedside lamp and closed my eyes. Just as I was drifting off to sleep, the bedroom door was pushed open with a soft click. A tall, dark silhouette slipped silently into the room. Instantly, my mind snapped awake. It was Danny. He walked over and stopped right beside my bed. In the dark, I kept my eyes closed, pretending to be fast asleep. I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel his gaze on me, burning hot like fire. 11 Danny stood by the bed for what felt like an eternity. Then, he suddenly leaned down, his finger gently brushing against my cheek. His fingertips, rough with light calluses, were trembling. Slowly, trace by trace, he mapped out the contours of my face. From my brow to the bridge of my nose, from my cheek down to my lips. His touch was incredibly gentle, as if he were touching something made of fragile glass. “Daisy…” His voice was barely a whisper, a soft, aching sigh. “What am I supposed to do with you?” I didn’t open my eyes, keeping my breathing slow and steady. He fell silent again for a long time. Then, I felt a warm, soft pressure press against my forehead. It was his lips. My heart skipped a beat. Did he finally break? Just as the thought crossed my mind, his lips slowly parted from my skin. “Please don’t hate me, Daisy,” Danny whispered, his voice cracking so badly it was barely audible. “I’m so in love with you, it’s driving me insane.” “But I was terrified.” “I was terrified you were just looking for a temporary thrill.” “Terrified you’d regret it later.” He drew in a sharp, painful breath. “But right now… I’m so much more terrified…” “Terrified that you really don’t want me anymore.” With that, he straightened up and turned to walk out. Just as his hand touched the doorknob— [ THE ULTIMATE TRUTH HAS BEEN EXPOSED. WILL DAISY FINALLY REVEAL HER SECRET GAME, OR WILL DANNY ESCAPE INTO THE NIGHT? CHOOSE TO UNLOCK THE HEART-STOPPING CLIMAX NOW! ] “Stop right there.” 12 I opened my eyes and sat up in bed. Click. I switched on the bedside lamp. The warm, amber glow instantly filled the room. Danny froze by the door, his back to me, looking like a statue. “Turn around.” His shoulders shook slightly. Then, slowly, he turned to face me. Under the warm light, I could see his eyes were red. His long eyelashes were still wet with unshed tears. My proud, arrogant childhood friend. In this moment, he looked like a child who had done something terribly wrong, standing there completely lost and helpless. “Creeping into my room in the middle of the night?” I threw off the covers, my bare feet hitting the hardwood floor as I walked slowly toward him. “Touching me?” “Kissing me?” I stopped right in front of him, forcing him to look down at me. “Danny, do you realize I have a boyfriend now?” His Adam’s apple bobbed convulsively. “I know.” “You know, and yet you still do this?” I stared into his eyes, demanding an answer. He lowered his gaze, his dark lashes trembling. “I couldn’t help myself. I’m sorry.” “Couldn’t help what?” His voice dropped even lower. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” “I wanted to see you. I wanted to touch you. I wanted to…” He cut himself off, the tips of his ears turning a bright, burning red. I narrowed my eyes. “Wanted to what? Finish the sentence.” He bit his lip, refusing to speak. I raised my hand. Smack. A sharp slap landed on his cheek. 13 It wasn’t a hard slap, but the sound was crisp in the quiet room. Danny’s head jerked to the side, completely stunned. Slowly, he turned his face back to look at me. There was no anger in his eyes. Instead, there was confusion, vulnerability, and… a faint, barely perceptible trace of satisfaction? I held his gaze, speaking slowly and deliberately. “That was for my boyfriend.” “Remember this. If you ever sneak into my room again, a slap will be the least of your worries.” Danny swallowed hard once more. “Then hit me again,” he whispered. He reached out and grabbed my wrist, pulling my palm back to press against his cheek. His gaze was burning with a desperate intensity. “Beat me, Daisy. If it makes you feel better, you can hit me as much as you want.” With my hand pressed flat against his face, I could feel the feverish heat of his skin, the slight tremble of his jaw, and the rapid, shallow rise and fall of his chest. I coldly pulled my hand away. “You think a beating solves everything?” “Then what do you want me to do?” His voice carried a raw, desperate rasp that had been pushed to its absolute limit. “Tell me, Daisy. What do I have to do to make you leave Gavin? What do I have to do to get you to look at me again?” “What do I have to do…” He choked up, his eyes welling with fresh tears. “…to make you want me?” My heart pinched. But I kept my face entirely neutral, cold as ice. “Let’s get one thing straight, Danny.” “You were the one who rejected me. What is this sudden display of tragic devotion supposed to prove?” “I only did that because…” “Because what? Cat got your tongue again?” I let out a cold laugh and took a step back. “If you have nothing to say, get the hell out of my room. I want to sleep.” He stood there like a statue, refusing to budge. “Get out,” I pointed toward the door.

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1 I paid three thousand dollars for a live-in housekeeper to look after my cat and my apartment while I spent eighteen days traveling abroad. The night I returned, I stood outside my own front door, dragging two heavy suitcases, and entered the passcode three times. The keypad screen flashed red every single time: Access Denied. I thought my brain had turned to mush after a fifteen-hour flight. I looked down and double-checked the memo on my phone. It was correct. 0529. That was the temporary passcode I had set for Brenda, the housekeeper, before I left the country. I tried entering it again. Still incorrect. Suddenly, a woman’s voice drifted through the door. “Who is it? Stop pressing the button, the baby is trying to sleep.” I stood there, completely dumbfounded. This was my apartment. I was standing outside my own home, being treated like an annoyance by a total stranger inside. I pressed the doorbell. After about ten seconds, the door cracked open a few inches. A woman in her thirties poked her head out. Her hair was a messy nest, and on her feet, she wore the gray slippers I usually kept in my entryway. She eyed me up and down. “Who are you looking for?” I stared at the slippers on her feet. “I should be asking you that question.” The woman frowned. “Who even are you?” “I am the owner of this apartment.” The woman’s face stiffened. She turned back toward the living room and yelled, “Mom! The landlord is back!” Landlord? An instant wave of fury rushed up my throat. She pushed the door wide open. Through the doorway, I saw a young boy sitting on my living room sofa, holding my iPad and watching cartoons. Greasy takeout boxes littered the coffee table, and several children’s shirts were strewn across the cushions. The balcony door was half-open, letting a heavy wave of cigarette smoke and cheap cooking oil drift into the room. Right in the middle of my plush white rug, there was a nasty, dark brown liquid stain. In the kitchen, a short-haired man walked out holding a pot. When he saw me, he froze. That enamel Dutch oven in his hands had cost me four hundred dollars. Before I could say a word, the master bedroom door swung open. Brenda stepped out. She was wearing my silk robe, the one I had carefully washed and tucked into the deepest corner of my closet before leaving. “Oh, Ed, why are you back so early today?” She spoke so casually, as if she were simply asking why I had gotten off work early. I stared at her. “This is my home. Am I not allowed to come back to it?” Brenda looked a little uncomfortable, but she quickly forced a smile. “I didn’t mean it like that. Didn’t you say you’d be back on the second?” “I changed my flight. I came back two days early.” I pointed at the crowd in the living room. “Who are these people?” Before Brenda could answer, the younger woman spoke up. “I’m her daughter, Fiona.” The man in the kitchen added, “I’m her son-in-law, Greg.” The little boy on the sofa waved the iPad. “Grandma, I want some yogurt!” I let out a dry laugh. “So I paid three thousand dollars for a housekeeper, went on a trip, and your entire family decided to move in?” Brenda’s face darkened. “Ed, that is a very unpleasant way to put it. I’m an old woman, and staying in such a large apartment by myself makes me nervous. I just had my family come over to keep me company. What is wrong with that?” “Keep you company?” I took a step inside. Fiona blocked my path. “Hey, don’t just barge in. The baby just fell asleep.” I looked her dead in the eye. “Get out of my way.” She didn’t budge. Brenda hurried over. “Fiona, don’t argue with him. Ed, everyone has had a long day. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.” “We are talking about this right now.” I dropped my suitcases by the door, pulled out my phone, and opened the photo of our contract. “I signed an eighteen-day agreement with Aegis Home Care for three thousand dollars. The contract clearly states that the only person permitted to stay here is you, Brenda Gable. You were supposed to sleep in the guest room, you were not allowed to have guests overnight, you were not allowed to use the master bedroom, and you were strictly forbidden from touching my personal belongings.” I looked up at the silk robe she was wearing. “Explain this to me.” Brenda’s face flushed with embarrassment. She pulled the robe tighter around herself. “My clothes were in the wash and weren’t dry yet. I just borrowed it for a bit. It is not like I ruined it.” Her son-in-law, Greg, set the Dutch oven down on the counter. “Look, Mr. Cole, this place was sitting empty anyway. Is our staying here for a few days going to make the building collapse?” I looked at him. “You used my kitchen, slept in my bed, wore my clothes, and now you are telling me it is just a few days?” Greg rolled his eyes. “Rich people are always so dramatic.” Fiona leaned against the shoe cabinet, her tone incredibly aggressive. “My mother has been watching your place and taking care of your cat, working herself to the bone. You walk in the door and start throwing a tantrum. Is that really necessary?” That was when I remembered my cat. “Where is Milkshake?” Brenda’s eyes darted away. “Out on the balcony.” I pushed past Fiona and headed straight for the balcony. She reached out to stop me. “What do you think you’re doing?” “Checking on my cat.” In the far corner of the balcony, Milkshake was curled up tight inside his little dome bed. His white fur was badly matted. His water bowl was bone dry. The litter box was so full it was practically overflowing. I knelt down and called his name. He looked up at me, letting out a raspy, weak meow that barely carried any sound. The anger inside me boiled over completely. “Brenda.” I turned back to face her. “Where did those daily photos you sent me actually come from?” She stammered, “I took them myself, of course.” “The water bowl is empty, the litter box is disgusting, and you have the nerve to tell me you’ve been taking care of him?” Brenda knitted her brows. “Cats are naturally fussy creatures. I’m a housekeeper, not a vet.” I stood up. “All of you, pack your things and get out of my apartment right now.” Fiona let out a sharp laugh. “Where are we supposed to go in the middle of the night? Besides, my mother’s contract isn’t even over yet.” I glared at her. “The contract was to hire her for work, not to hand my home over to your entire family.” Brenda plopped herself down on the sofa, slapping her thighs dramatically. “Oh, listen to this young man! He changes his mind faster than the weather! Before he left, he was all smiles, telling me to treat the place like my own and take whatever I needed. Now he comes back and kicks us out onto the street.” She pulled out her phone. “I have the voice message right here!” I watched her coldly. She pressed play on the message. It was a clip I had sent the day I departed. “Brenda, thanks for watching the place. The cat food is in the cabinet, feel free to use the food in the fridge, and let me know if you need anything else.” Brenda held the phone up high. “You all heard it. He said it himself, to treat the place like my own.” I looked at her face. In that moment, I realized something. This woman wasn’t confused. She knew exactly what she was doing. I dialed the number for Mr. Dale, the manager at Aegis Home Care. Once the call connected, I said only one thing: “The housekeeper you sent me moved her entire family into my home.” There was a long silence on the other end. “Mr. Cole, please calm down. I’ll be over right away.” Next, I called the building management office. Twenty minutes later, Mr. Gould, the building manager, arrived with two security guards. Ten minutes after that, Mr. Dale arrived. When he stepped through the door and saw the crowd in the living room, he froze. But he quickly forced a professional smile. “Mr. Cole, I’m sure there has been a misunderstanding here.” I pointed at the slippers on Fiona’s feet. “A misunderstanding that involves wearing my personal shoes?” I pointed toward the master bedroom. “A misunderstanding that involves sleeping in my bed?” Finally, I pointed to the balcony. “A misunderstanding that leaves my cat severely neglected?” Mr. Dale’s smile faltered. Brenda stood up immediately. “Mr. Dale, you have to be fair here. I was terrified staying in this huge place alone. I just had my daughter and her husband come over to keep me safe. What is wrong with that?” Mr. Dale nodded slowly. “Brenda is older, and working in an unfamiliar environment can be stressful.” I looked at him. “Does your contract state that stress justifies moving an entire family in?” Mr. Dale cleared his throat. “A contract is just paper. In reality, we have to show a little human decency.” “Decency?” I scrolled to section six of the digital contract and shoved the screen in front of his face. “The service provider shall not bring any unauthorized individuals into the client’s residence. Any violation of this clause gives the client the right to terminate the contract immediately and seek full damages.” Mr. Dale glanced at it and gave a strained laugh. “Mr. Cole, let’s not get bogged down in the fine print. The most important thing is finding a solution.” “And what is your solution?” He said, “It is very late. How about we let Brenda’s family stay just for tonight, and I will personally oversee their departure tomorrow morning?” I laughed, utterly incredulous. “I return to my own home, and I am the one who has to accommodate them for the night?” Fiona chimed in from the side. “You can stay here too if you want. There are plenty of rooms.” I looked at her. “Where are you sleeping?” “The master bedroom.” “And where am I supposed to sleep?” Fiona shrugged. “The guest room is perfectly fine.” I turned to Mr. Dale. “Did you hear that?” Mr. Dale quickly hissed, “Fiona, keep your mouth shut.” Brenda added, “Ed, you’re just one person. What difference does it make? We have a child with us. You can’t expect us to sleep on the floor.” I asked her, “Did you ask for my permission before you slept in my bed?” She grumbled, “I kept it clean for you.” I walked over to the master bedroom door. The bed was covered in their rummaged blankets, and Brenda’s reading glasses lay on the nightstand next to a half-empty mug of tea with dried stains. My closet doors were wide open. My clothes were hung haphazardly, completely out of order. My robes, coats, and cashmere scarves had all been moved. On the vanity, my expensive skincare jars had deep finger gouges in them, and several replacement blades for my razor were missing. I turned around to face Greg. He avoided my gaze. “What are you looking at me for?” “Who used my things?” Greg crossed his arms. “You have so much stuff. Are you really going to accuse us of stealing just because a few minor things are missing? Do you have any proof?” Just then, the little boy ran over, holding my iPad. “Dad, it died!” I snatched the iPad from his hands. There was a fresh, jagged crack running down the edge of the screen. I took a deep breath. A quiet voice in my head kept reminding me to stay calm, not to do anything stupid, and not to escalate things physically. I turned to Mr. Gould, the building manager. “You are witnessing this. As the homeowner, I am demanding that these unauthorized people leave immediately.” Mr. Gould looked at Brenda, then at me, looking deeply uncomfortable. “Mr. Cole, technically, this is your property, and they have no right to stay here. However, since you let the housekeeper in yourself, we as building management cannot physically force her family out.” “If you can’t force them out, I’m calling the police.” When Fiona heard this, her voice shrilled. “Go ahead and call them! My mother worked herself to the bone for you, and now you’re trying to intimidate us?” Brenda started to sob, wiping her dry eyes. “I worked like a dog for him, and the moment he gets back, he calls the police on me. Mr. Dale, look at this! Who would ever want to work for a client like this?” I said, “I hired you for eighteen days. Today is day sixteen. I paid you over a hundred and fifty dollars a day. Did you take care of the cat? Did you clean the apartment? You moved your family in and now you’re playing the victim?” Mr. Dale stepped between us. “Mr. Cole, let’s not make things so extreme. Brenda didn’t mean any harm. Her family is just going through a bit of a rough patch.” “What kind of rough patch?” Fiona sneered. “Our apartment is being renovated, and we had nowhere to stay. This place was sitting empty, and since my mom was working here anyway, what is the big deal?” I stared at her. “So you planned this from the very beginning.” Fiona realized she had let too much slip and shut her mouth. But Greg remained arrogant. “It is not like we stayed for free. My mother was working for you.” I pulled out my phone and dialed the emergency line. Mr. Dale’s expression finally crumbled. “Mr. Cole, please, there is no need to involve the police.” I looked at him. “Actually, there is.” Two officers arrived fifteen minutes later. One was a seasoned officer in his late forties, and the other was a younger deputy. I showed them the contract, the payment receipts, and my chat history with Brenda. Then, I guided them through the apartment, showing them the state of the rooms. The older officer listened quietly, then turned to Brenda. “Are you the hired housekeeper?” Brenda wiped her face, sniffled, and said, “Yes, I am. I came here to work. Before he left, he told me to treat the place like my own, so I thought it would be fine to have my daughter stay with me for a couple of days. I didn’t mean anything by it.” The officer asked, “How long have your daughter, son-in-law, and grandson been living here?” Brenda went silent. Fiona mumbled, “Just a couple of days.” I interrupted. “My smart lock logs show they entered the second night after I left. Today is day sixteen.” Fiona glared at me. “You actually tracked that?” “It is my lock, on my door. Why wouldn’t I track it?” The officer turned back to Fiona. “The homeowner does not consent to your presence. You need to pack your things and leave.” Fiona grumbled, “It is too late to find a place tonight.” The officer checked his watch. “It is nine-forty. It is not that late.” Greg, holding the crying child, tried to push back. “Our kid has preschool tomorrow morning. Where are we supposed to go?” I had tried to hold back, but I couldn’t help myself. “Is his preschool located inside my master bedroom?” Greg’s face flushed red. “Why are you so incredibly petty?” Suddenly, Brenda grabbed her chest. “Oh, my head. I feel dizzy.” Mr. Dale immediately supported her. “Brenda! Are you okay?” Brenda collapsed onto the sofa, her voice suddenly weak. “My blood pressure is spiking. I can’t take this kind of stress.” I watched her dramatic display, my heart turning completely cold. This wasn’t her first time putting on a show. She was far too practiced at it. The older officer frowned. “If you are unwell, we can call an ambulance.” Brenda waved her hands frantically. “No, no need. Just let me rest for a moment.” Mr. Dale turned to me. “Mr. Cole, look at her. Forcing them to move out tonight is simply unrealistic. Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning at ten, I will personally come back and make sure they leave.” I asked the officer, “Can we put that in writing?” The older officer nodded. “We can write up an official incident report. The family must vacate the premises by ten tomorrow morning, the housekeeping services are terminated, and any further disputes regarding fees or damages must be resolved through civil channels or legal proceedings.” Fiona muttered under her breath, “Unbelievable. What a drama queen.” The officer shot her a sharp look. “Do you have something else to say?” Fiona shut her mouth. Once the report was signed, Brenda reluctantly gave me the new passcode she had set. I stood at the door and tested it. The lock clicked open. “Why did you change the code in the first place?” I asked. Brenda’s eyes darted around. “The kid was playing with it and locked us out. My son-in-law had to reset it.” I looked at Greg. He kept his head down, pretending to be absorbed in his phone. I went inside and immediately put Milkshake into his carrier. Brenda panicked. “If you’re taking the cat, how are we supposed to settle the remaining service fee?” I looked back at her. “You actually think you deserve to be paid?” Her face went pale. I went into the study to grab my passport and laptop. I noticed fresh scratches around the handle of the study door. I pulled open the desk drawer. My passport was there, and the property deed was untouched. The black metal security cabinet in the corner of the room appeared undisturbed. Inside that cabinet were several high-end camera lenses, two luxury watches, and a designer leather bag. These were professional equipment and display samples left over from a photography project I had worked on with my friend, Marcus. They were fully insured, complete with invoices and serial numbers, and I kept them in the locked cabinet for safekeeping. I had made sure to double-lock the cabinet before leaving. I touched the lock, feeling a small sense of relief that it was still secure. However, I noticed that the two security cameras in the living room had been unplugged. I turned to Brenda. “Who unplugged the cameras?” She said defensively, “Those little red lights keep blinking. It is creepy.” “The contract clearly states that there are active security cameras in the common areas, including the living room and the study.” She replied righteously, “I’m an old woman. Being watched like a prisoner in a house where I work is simply too much to ask.” I didn’t bother arguing. But what she didn’t know was that there was a third camera hidden inside a dummy smoke detector on the study ceiling. It had been installed a couple of years ago after a pipe burst, and it ran on an independent battery. Its lens pointed directly at the study entrance and the metal security cabinet. It was listed in the contract’s technical disclosures, but they clearly hadn’t bothered to read it. Holding Milkshake’s carrier in one hand and dragging my suitcase with the other, I left my own apartment. Behind me, Brenda called out, “Ed, we’ll be gone by ten tomorrow. Don’t worry.” I didn’t look back. I checked into a hotel right outside the residential complex. At the veterinary clinic, the doctor took one look at Milkshake and diagnosed him with severe dehydration and mild gastroenteritis. “Has his water intake and litter box usage been abnormal lately?” the vet asked. I nodded. “Who was watching him?” “Someone I paid a lot of money to,” I said quietly. The vet sighed. “We need to put him on an IV immediately.” I sat in the clinic corridor, watching Milkshake curl up inside the metal cage with a needle in his tiny paw. I had paid three thousand dollars for peace of mind. Instead, I got a house full of freeloaders and a sick cat. The next morning, I arrived at my apartment building at nine-fifty. Mr. Gould, the building manager, was already waiting for me. Mr. Dale, the agency manager, was nowhere to be seen. I called him. He took a long time to answer. “Mr. Cole, I’m stuck in an emergency meeting. Why don’t you talk to Brenda first? I’ll be there as soon as I can.” I didn’t waste my breath. I hung up. At exactly ten o’clock, I entered the passcode Brenda had given me the night before. Access Denied. I tried it again. Still incorrect. Mr. Gould frowned. “They changed it again?” I called Brenda. No answer. I called Fiona. She picked up, her voice sounding lazy and unbothered. “What do you want?” “Open the door.” “My mother is feeling unwell today. We can’t move out.” “The police report signed last night clearly states you must vacate by ten o’clock.” “Then go complain to the police,” she sneered. “Open the door,” I repeated, my voice dropping. Fiona chuckled. “Mr. Cole, don’t be so aggressive. We are willing to leave, but you need to settle my mother’s outstanding fees first.” “I paid the agency in full before I left.” “That is between you and the agency. My mother watched your apartment, and the rest of us helped out. We are charging for overnight house-sitting, moving expenses, and lost wages. It comes out to twenty-five hundred dollars.” I almost laughed out loud. “You occupied my apartment, and now you want me to pay for your moving expenses?” Fiona said smoothly, “You live in such a massive apartment, surely you can afford a little pocket change.” I glanced at Mr. Gould. He was staring at his shoes, pretending he was invisible. I spoke into the phone. “I am giving you ten minutes. If that door isn’t open, I am calling the police again.” Fiona’s tone turned ice-cold. “Calling the police won’t do anything. This is a labor dispute. Do you really think the cops are going to physically throw us out?” She hung up. I stood outside the door, my hands turning cold. Just then, Mr. Dale sent me a text message: Mr. Cole, Brenda really is quite ill today. Please show some understanding. They aren’t trying to steal your apartment. As soon as she feels better, they will leave. I replied: If they are not out by noon, I am taking legal action. He waited several minutes before replying: Escalating things like this will only make it harder for everyone. I stared at his message. Surprisingly, a strange calm washed over me. Harder for everyone? They had locked me out of my own home and changed my passcodes. How much worse could it possibly get? By noon, they still hadn’t left. At three in the afternoon, I went back up with Mr. Gould. Inside, I could hear the television blaring and the sound of the little boy laughing. I pressed the doorbell. No one answered. I banged on the door. Fiona’s voice came from inside. “Stop knocking! The baby is taking a nap!” “Open the door,” I demanded. The door opened just a crack, held in place by the security chain. Fiona showed half of her face. “I told you, we can’t move today.” “Did you touch any of my belongings?” I asked. She laughed mockingly. “Who cares about your expensive junk?” “If a single item inside the study cabinet is missing, I will file a grand theft report with the police.” Her expression flickered for a fraction of a second, but she quickly recovered. “Who are you trying to scare?” The door slammed shut. I didn’t leave. I walked down one flight of stairs using the emergency exit, then doubled back quietly through the fire escape stairwell. The fire door on the twenty-third floor had poor sound insulation. They must have assumed I had left because they hadn’t closed their door all the way. Muffled voices drifted down the concrete hallway. “I listed those watches on a resale platform,” Greg was saying. “Someone already messaged asking if they can meet in person to inspect them.” “Don’t sell the watches first,” Fiona replied. “They’re too obvious. There are two jade pendants in the study cabinet that look expensive. Take those to a pawn shop first, it is faster.” Brenda’s voice was hushed. “He looked at that cabinet yesterday. Don’t touch things too recklessly.” Fiona sighed impatiently. “He is just a kid, what can he do? A few threats and he folds like paper.” Then, I heard Mr. Dale’s voice. “Just don’t make it too obvious. If he files a complaint, I can stall things on my end. I’ll just say the service contract hasn’t officially concluded and there is a dispute over the fees.” Brenda spoke up. “And what if he calls the cops again? What can the cops do? I’m over sixty. If I collapse on the floor, who would dare touch me?” Greg laughed. “Mom, your act yesterday was brilliant.” The group chuckled together. Fiona added, “We might as well stay until the end of the month. He has plenty of money to stay in hotels. Let him sweat.” Mr. Dale warned them, “If you’re going to sell those things, find a local buyer who deals in cash. Don’t leave a digital trail.” “Don’t worry,” Greg said. “I’m using a burner account.” I stood behind the fire door, my fingertips turning completely numb as I listened. They had never intended to leave. The sudden illness, the child’s preschool, the lack of options, it was all a coordinated lie. I held my phone up, recording every single word until their laughter faded into the concrete. A burning, white-hot anger flared in my chest. I had tried to be civil. I had given them warnings, involved building management, brought in the police, and tried to reason with them through our contract. And they thought I was a pushover. They called me a weak kid. They thought they had all the cards, and that I was the one who would crack first. I turned around, walked down the stairs, and dialed Marcus’s number as soon as I reached the courtyard. “Marcus, I need a favor.” “Name it,” he said, his voice instantly alert. “Send me everything you have on that studio gear, the sales contracts, the receipts, the serial numbers, and the insurance policies. And get your lawyer on the phone. I want him to go over the evidence with me tonight.” Marcus paused. “Did something happen?” I looked up at the warm light glowing from the twenty-third floor. My voice was barely a whisper. “Some people moved into my home, and I am going to make them regret the day they were born.” Marcus swore under his breath. “Don’t worry,” I said, a cold, quiet anger settling deep in my chest. “If they think I’m soft, let’s see how far they stretch their hands.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “463141”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

1 I had always been cool by nature, yet I married a CEO with a dangerously high appetite. The latest time I turned down his attempt to get close, I saw floating comments appear in front of me. [Three years of marriage, and this ice-queen supporting wife has never once let the male lead eat his fill.] [He’s taking another cold shower. If he’d married the siren-bodied heroine, I can’t even imagine how well-fed he’d be.] [The siren heroine has already been hired as the CEO’s secretary. She starts tomorrow. His good days are finally coming.] [The male lead met with a divorce attorney today. He wants the divorce done fast, and this supporting wife is still working in the study. I’m dying.] I put down the file in my hand, got up, and knocked on the bathroom door. The sound of running water stopped. Nathaniel Cross’s voice came out rough. “Something wrong?” Nervous, but still polite, I asked, “I’m done with work. Can I… shower with you?” The bathroom went silent for a few seconds. I thought that was his wordless rejection and was about to turn away. Then the bathroom door opened a crack. Nathaniel’s hand reached out, caught my wrist, and pulled me inside. Before I could react, my back was against the bathroom door. His handsome face was inches from mine. “Are you serious?” His narrow eyes studied me like prey. My gaze landed on his strong chest. Lower were the hard lines of his abs, water sliding down the grooves before disappearing beneath the towel at his waist. Remembering how intense he had always been, I started to feel a little scared. I stammered, “If you’re already done, you can go out first…” From the corner of my eye, I saw the faintest curve of his lips. His hand settled on my waist. Heat darkened his gaze. “I can help you.” The comments drifted past. [She’s playing hard to get again.] [The male lead is already at the edge.] [She delivered herself to his door. That’s not just fuel to the fire. That’s a whole matchstick factory.] [No way he lets her leave.] [Hehe. Tonight she probably won’t have the strength to walk out of that bathroom herself.] [Being carried out works too.] [And they can keep going on the way…] [She won’t pass out like last time, right?] [He has the stamina for it.] I shivered. I had taken the initiative with Nathaniel before. On our first wedding anniversary, I happened to have the day off. On a whim, I prepared a candlelit dinner for him. I even scattered rose petals in the bathtub. That night, Nathaniel was passionate. I passed out afterward. I had only wanted a glass of water. Nathaniel could drown me with an entire ocean. Since then, I had not dared to be too forward with him. 2 After seeing those comments, I was afraid of repeating the past. But the comments said Nathaniel had met with a divorce attorney today. He wanted to divorce me as soon as possible. Our marriage had been arranged by our parents. My father had once done Nathaniel’s father a great favor. At first, Nathaniel had not wanted his family interfering with his marriage. I heard that when his father died, he had considered breaking off the engagement. It was Old Mr. Cross who stepped in and forced the arrangement to remain. The Cross family was old money at the very top. My family was comfortable, but ordinary by comparison. Marrying into the Cross family was undeniably marrying up. Fortunately, Nathaniel treated me well after the wedding. Probably to repay that old debt. I was a botanist. To make it easier for me to observe plant growth patterns, Nathaniel had once waved his hand and given me an entire private ridge after we married. The ridge was full of rare plants and medicinal herb fields. Nathaniel spent a fortune building me a laboratory there, along with a small courtyard house that belonged only to me. As Mrs. Cross, I never had to worry about daily trivialities. I could devote myself fully to the plant research I loved. So I did not want to divorce him. If we divorced, he would probably take back the ridge. Where else would I find a husband who could casually gift me a mountain? Besides, Nathaniel was young, handsome, and built like a dream. If my future child had such an excellent father, that child would already be winning at life. These three years, I really had neglected him. If he wanted a divorce because our marriage lacked intimacy… Then I could try to be a little more proactive. 3 An hour later, Nathaniel carried me out of the bathroom and gently placed me on the bed. I was so tired it felt like I was lying on a cloud. Exhausted, I said good night. “Good night.” Nathaniel paused, then bent down and touched my cheek. “That’s it? You’re sleepy already?” I nodded and said seriously, “Mm. I came back from the ridge today. I’m tired. You should sleep early too.” Nathaniel stared at me for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something but held it back. At last, with both tenderness and disappointment, he said, “All right. You sleep first.” I closed my eyes, refusing to look at the desire still burning in his gaze. I had already been very proactive just now. That should be enough, right? The comments filled my vision. [Is she blind? Can’t she tell he’s still unsatisfied?] [She changed, but only a tiny bit. Nowhere near enough.] [Does she misunderstand the male lead’s strength?] [What Nathaniel did just now was basically a warm-up.] [He was ready for a marathon, and she already crossed the finish line?] [She gave him appetizers and soup. The main course hasn’t even started. How could he be full?] [If he’d married the siren heroine, tonight would’ve been a feast.] [What a waste. Such a fierce male lead married this cold supporting wife.] [Ivy is always on that ridge. Sometimes she stays there half a month without going home.] [Every time, Nathaniel has to drive up there to find her.] [Even when he does, she still puts work first.] [She throws herself into the lab and leaves him alone in the courtyard.] [And she constantly refuses him because she’s tired.] [When she’s busy, she can go three months without feeding him.] [People get paid monthly. She’s out here giving him quarterly bonuses.] [Any normal man would lose it, let alone a high-demand man like him.] [If I were him, I’d divorce her too.] [Don’t sleep, supporting wife. The male lead has enough energy to last until dawn.] Maybe I had always been naturally indifferent toward desire. That one hour in the bathroom had truly been enough for me. I had no strength left to keep Nathaniel company until morning. I thought that once I slept, I could make it up to him after I woke up. With that thought, the guilt in my chest faded a little. The moment my head touched the pillow, I fell asleep. Half-asleep, I felt a pair of large hands pull the blanket over me. I turned over and kept sleeping. Nathaniel watched my sleeping face for a long time. Long enough for the moonlight outside to be swallowed by clouds. Long enough for the light in his eyes to fade completely. Then I heard him say, “Ivy, let’s get divorced.” 4 I opened my eyes and looked at Nathaniel. His expression was dark and heavy. It looked like he had already made up his mind. Maybe because the comments had spoiled it early, I did not show much shock. I rubbed my eyes and asked quietly, “Can we talk about it tomorrow?” The disappointment on Nathaniel’s face deepened. “Fine.” He got up and went to the study. The comments appeared again. [I’m done. This woman has no heart.] [Nathaniel brings up divorce, and she says talk tomorrow.] [With that attitude, she might as well write “I don’t care” on her face.] [He must be completely disappointed now.] [Nathaniel married her to repay the previous generation’s debt anyway. He never loved her.] [After the divorce, he can feast with the siren heroine.] [For Nathaniel, the sooner he leaves, the sooner he’s free.] The comments were twisting my meaning. It was not that I did not care. Last night, I had worked late in the lab and only returned to the courtyard at six in the morning. I slept for four hours before my colleague, Rowan Pierce, called and woke me. Recently, we had been researching a special vine. Anyone pricked by its thorns would squeeze out pale blue blood. Their body would become unbearably hot, similar to being affected by an aphrodisiac. It could even become addictive. After being pricked once, people wanted to prick themselves again. After repeated exposure, their constitution would begin to change. We named it siren vine. We did not know how many people had already been pricked. Our current project was to extract the vine’s special components and develop an antidote. Rowan said over the phone that he had discovered something important. So I got up and rushed to the lab, then threw myself into the experiment. I worked until six in the evening before driving back to the Cross estate. After dinner, I went to the study to read papers and references. The fact that I had not fallen asleep in the bathroom was already impressive. At that moment, not even the sky falling could stop me from sleeping. The comments kept going. [Fine, fine, you’re noble, you’re cool.] [Career first, male lead second.] [To be fair, Ivy having ambition is good.] [But Nathaniel needs someone who provides emotional value.] [So they’re fundamentally incompatible.] [This marriage was forced together. Both of them are tired.] [Nathaniel has had enough of being neglected.] [He’s drafting the divorce agreement in the study right now.] [Ivy can go marry her laboratory.] Even my dreams were full of experiments. I dreamed that just as I was about to develop the antidote, the lab door slowly opened. Nathaniel’s bodyguard took out a seal and pasted it across the door. With perfect respect, he said, “Mrs. Cross, Mr. Cross is reclaiming the ridge. The lab will be sealed. You have three days to move out.” The dream shifted. I hugged Nathaniel’s leg. “No, Nathaniel. Can you not divorce me? Can you not take back the lab?” In the dream, Nathaniel threw the divorce agreement onto my face and said coldly, “No.” 5 The next morning, the comments woke me up. [Hahaha, what kind of ridiculous dream was that?] [It’s kind of funny. In the dream, she actually hugged his leg and begged him.] [The contrast is wild.] [If she had that awareness in reality, Nathaniel wouldn’t be divorcing her.] [Nathaniel went to work at Cross Group early this morning.] [Before he left, he took the divorce agreement he drafted last night.] [This afternoon, he’s meeting Attorney Locke to discuss the divorce.] [Ivy finally gave herself a day off. Might as well pack and leave.] I rubbed my temples. Last night’s dream had indeed been dramatic. Nathaniel had always been generous. Even if we divorced, he probably would not cut things off that harshly. If we truly had to divorce, maybe I could try to negotiate for the lab. But I really did not want to leave. Nathaniel had always supported my career. He had also given me enough space to pursue the work I loved. I knew it would be hard to find a better partner. I also knew that during these three years, I had fallen for him. I made my decision. I would win him back. As long as I had not signed the divorce papers, there was still a chance. The comments cut in. [Probably no chance.] [The siren heroine is delivering coffee to him right now.] [She could tell at one glance he’s been starving for a long time.] [Men like that are the easiest to tease.] [The moment the heroine makes a move, the CEO’s office becomes their battlefield.] [Hehe, Nathaniel’s office has a private suite and bathroom.] [He prepared all kinds of tricks and props.] [But no matter how often he hinted, Ivy never went to his company.] [Now he can use all of that with the siren heroine.] [Top-tier soundproofing. They can be as wild as they want.] I shot out of bed. I decided to dress carefully and bring afternoon tea to Cross Group. 6 I made the desserts myself. The little cakes were decorated with flowers, fruit, and green leaves, full of spring. The comments drifted by. [Didn’t expect that. She actually made cakes for Nathaniel.] [The makeup, the dress, the cakes. There’s some sincerity here.] [Has she finally understood? This doesn’t look like she’s delivering afternoon tea.] [She’s delivering herself.] [Where was this effort before?] [She waits until he wants a divorce to start winning him back.] [Too late. The male lead and heroine are already burning up in the office.] I still trusted Nathaniel’s character. Even if he wanted a divorce, the process had not begun yet. He should be able to control himself. [Not necessarily.] [He can control himself around other women.] [But Sienna is the heroine of this story. Nathaniel’s heroine.] [When the male lead and heroine meet, there’s chemistry. You get it.] [Besides, Ivy knows how long it’s been since she let him enjoy himself.] I drove my SUV toward Cross Group. As soon as I entered the lobby and prepared to ask the front desk for directions, the receptionist recognized me. “You’re Mrs. Cross, right? I’ll call Mr. Cross now.” I paused. “You know me?” After all, it was my first time coming to Cross Group. The receptionist smiled and explained, “There’s a photo of you and Mr. Cross in the company culture display.” Then she dialed the CEO’s office extension. “Mr. Cross, hello. Mrs. Cross is here, on the first floor…” Nathaniel said on the other end, “Bring her up.” “Of course, Mr. Cross.” After hanging up, she led me to the CEO’s private elevator. The CEO’s office was on the ninth floor. The moment I stepped out, I saw Sienna Vale walking out of the office. She bumped straight into me, knocking the cake box from my hand. 7 Sienna was different from what I had imagined. She looked fair, clean, and innocent, with a pair of glasses perched on her nose. Though she wore office clothes, she looked like a fresh graduate who had just entered the workforce. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Sienna hurriedly picked up the cake box. Unfortunately, the cakes inside were ruined. Seeing that, Sienna looked like she was about to cry. “Mrs. Cross, I’m really sorry…” Before I could speak, the comments exploded. [Sienna didn’t do it on purpose. Ivy won’t make a scene, right?] [The cake fell, so what? Nathaniel doesn’t even like sweets.] [Even if it hadn’t fallen, he wouldn’t have taken a bite.] [Does Ivy think she’s above Sienna?] [After being Mrs. Cross for three years, she forgot where she came from?] [She won’t slap Sienna, will she?] [After all, Sienna is about to replace her as Mrs. Cross.] The comments were good at stirring trouble. Sienna and I had only just met. Before we understood each other, we should not treat each other as enemies. I ignored the comments and said to Sienna, “It’s fine. Please help me throw it away.” Sienna looked at the cake with visible regret. “What a shame. It was such a lovely cake.” The CEO’s assistant came to lead me in. “Mrs. Cross, Mr. Cross and Attorney Locke are inside. I’ll take you in.” The comments continued. [She actually didn’t make things hard for Sienna. Is she acting?] [Attorney Locke is the divorce lawyer Nathaniel hired.] [Either way, this divorce is basically set.] I entered the CEO’s office. Nathaniel and Attorney Locke were indeed discussing the divorce agreement. Nathaniel deliberately glanced at my hands. As if he had been expecting something. When he saw I was empty-handed, he quietly looked away. He said to Attorney Locke, “Please step outside for a moment. I need to speak with my wife alone.” “Of course, Mr. Cross.” Attorney Locke stood and brushed past me on his way out. 8 Only Nathaniel and I remained in the CEO’s office. He spoke slowly. “Ivy, are you here to talk about the divorce?” My gaze fell on the two copies of the divorce agreement lying on his desk. “You already drafted the agreement?” I picked one up and flipped quickly through it. He had already sorted out the agreement. If I said I did not want a divorce now, wouldn’t I only humiliate myself? According to the terms, if we divorced, I would receive two full pages of assets. I searched carefully. The only thing missing was the ridge and the lab. The things I wanted most. I spoke before thinking. “Why isn’t there…” Nathaniel lifted his eyes and finished for me. “Nothing you want most?” I nodded. “Exactly.” A hidden expectation appeared in his gaze. “Ivy, what do you want most?” “What I want most…” I was about to say the lab. But just as the words reached my mouth, I suddenly realized I could not say that. If I told him the lab was what I wanted most, Nathaniel would surely be disappointed. The comments were frantic. [Say it!] [Are the words “the lab” burning your tongue?] [As long as you say it, he’ll give it to you.] [You get what you want, give Nathaniel to Sienna, and everyone’s happy. Isn’t that great?] I knew why I had come today. I had come to win him back. I did not want to divorce Nathaniel. Not only because he had given me a ridge and a lab. I truly felt he was a good partner. So I turned the words around. “Nathaniel, what I want most… is you.” 9 Light appeared in Nathaniel’s eyes in an instant. He stepped toward me and pulled me tightly into his arms. He kissed my forehead, his voice trembling. “Ivy, I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” I let out a soft breath. He was surprisingly easy to coax. One sentence, and all his defenses fell away. Did that mean we did not have to divorce? The comments went wild. [Male lead, don’t believe her. She’s lying.] [She doesn’t love you. She’s sweet-talking you because she wants your money.] [Your heroine is waiting outside.] [Can you stop being fooled by her?] Nathaniel held me for a while, then took out his phone and called Attorney Locke. “Attorney Locke, you can head back. My wife and I…” A message came into my phone. I pulled out of his arms and opened it. Rowan: Ivy, the plant factor in the flower I found on the cliff may suppress the effects of the siren vine. Rowan: Unfortunately, this flower is about to wilt. I need your help. Rowan: [Image] Excitement shot through me. I immediately threw one sentence at Nathaniel. “Nathaniel, I need to go to the ridge. I won’t be back tonight. We’ll talk later.” Nathaniel was still on the phone with Attorney Locke. The words he had not finished were swallowed back. He caught my hand and asked gently, “Can you not go today?” If I did not go today, that flower would wilt. The follow-up research would be interrupted. Rowan had nearly risked his life climbing down a cliff to retrieve it. So far, we had found only one. Flowers had seasons. If the research was interrupted, we had no idea when we would find another. Reviving wilting plants had always been my specialty. The lab needed me. I had to go. “It’s important.” I removed his hand and asked seriously, “Didn’t you say you would support my career?” Nathaniel’s gaze turned possessive. “More important than me?” I coaxed him softly. “I’m sorry. I really can’t delay.” I thought I could make it up to him when I returned. This time, I would compensate him more. Until he was satisfied. But Nathaniel picked up one copy of the divorce agreement and handed it to me. With disappointment in his voice, he said, “Ivy, if you insist on leaving, sign this first.” 10 In my impression, Nathaniel had always been gentle and easy to talk to. He had never truly argued with me. This time, the possessiveness in his eyes grew darker. The comments appeared. [The male lead finally grew a backbone.] [Choose one. Career or the male lead.] Suddenly, I felt both sad and helpless. I was naturally cool and needed a partner who was not clingy. Nathaniel had high needs and needed someone who placed him first all the time. Neither of us was wrong. We simply were not suited. Maybe I really should return him to the heroine. I picked up the pen, signed the divorce agreement, and handed it to him. “If you want a divorce, then let’s divorce.” Nathaniel froze in place, his fingers whitening around the agreement. I opened the office door and walked out quickly. Behind me, Nathaniel’s gaze turned darker and colder. In the elevator, the comments filled my vision. [Wow, she finally signed the divorce agreement.] [With mutual consent, they can get the divorce certificate in a month.] [Nathaniel must feel awful right now.] [It’s fine. Sienna is there.] [Sienna will comfort him.] [She’s bringing him coffee right now. Perfect chance to take advantage of his pain.] [Our heroine didn’t mean to seduce him.] [But she has a siren constitution. When it flares up, it’s unbearable. She needs someone close.] Sienna had a siren constitution. I suddenly thought of something and wanted to ask Sienna for her contact information. Just before the elevator doors closed, I stepped out and turned back. To reach the CEO’s office, I had to pass through the secretarial area. Before I got close, I heard Sienna’s soft, alluring voice from inside. “Can I go to your place tonight?” I wanted to hear Nathaniel’s answer. Instead, I heard Sienna make a muffled sound. As if she had been kissed. I stopped walking. The comments were thrilled. [Nathaniel kissed Sienna. This progress is flying.] [So good. Love this.] [Why isn’t Ivy walking forward?] [Is she scared to see the thing she least wants to see?] [She abandoned Nathaniel first.] [Now that Sienna stole him, Ivy is reaping what she sowed.] Nathaniel had always respected me. Even when he could not help wanting to kiss me, he would first test with a light touch. Then he would ask, “Can I?” Only after I nodded would he deepen the kiss. Now, in front of Sienna, he finally did not have to restrain himself. I wanted to take one more step and see the truth. But a faint ache spread through my chest. If I saw it with my own eyes, wouldn’t it only hurt more? Emotional fluctuation would affect my experiments. I turned around, walked quickly into the private elevator, and left without looking back.

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After Reid Shaw’s childhood sweetheart climbed into his passenger seat again, I didn’t argue. I simply opened the back door and sat beside his best friend, Dr. Edward Wren. When the car jolted, my bare knee brushed against Edward’s firm thigh. I deliberately didn’t move away. Neither did he. At a rest stop, Kylie clung to Reid and dragged him toward the bathroom. The second the car door shut, Edward took the back of my neck and kissed me. As I melted under that kiss, one thought drifted through my mind. Question men. Understand men. Become men. Some truths really were eternal. 1 I hadn’t expected Edward to come on this short road trip. He was always busy. I nodded politely at him. Edward wore glasses, faint exhaustion lingering on his face. He lifted his eyes, glanced at me, nodded back, then closed his eyes again. Kylie buckled her seat belt in the front and turned back to flash me a smug little smile. “Selena, I get carsick, so I’ll sit up front, okay?” Reid looked back too. “Kylie gets sick in cars. Be generous for once. Don’t make a scene over tiny things all the time.” I gave a soft laugh. “Sure.” Reid seemed surprised, but he said nothing else. Because Kylie had already shoved a half-eaten piece of bread into his mouth. “It tastes bad. Ollie, eat it for me.” Reid ate it naturally, without even frowning. Kylie looked at me in the rearview mirror and stuck out her tongue. I ignored her and picked up a bottle of sparkling water. The cap was tight. I tried twice and couldn’t open it. In the front seat, Kylie was pushing her own bottle into Reid’s hand, whining. “Ollie, I really can’t open it. You know I’ve had weak hands since we were kids.” Reid looked pleased as he opened it for her. The two of them shared the bottle, taking turns drinking, without the slightest sense of boundaries. I felt a little sick. Just as I was about to put my bottle down, a man’s hand reached over and took it from me. Under the sleeve of his black casual blazer, a silver-gray shirt cuff wrapped neatly around his lean wrist. His hand was beautiful. Long fingers, clean nails, elegant bones. In the light reflected through the car window, they looked almost carved from pale jade. 2 Before I fully recovered, Edward had already opened the bottle and handed it back. The car stereo started playing at just the right moment. I accepted it and whispered, “Thank you.” Edward nodded faintly and closed his eyes again. He had probably just come off an overnight surgery. There were faint red lines in his eyes. I sipped the water as the car smoothly entered the main road. Kylie’s birthday was coming up. Reid had specially organized this short self-drive trip to celebrate properly. There were seven or eight of us, three cars in total, and the destination was a hot spring resort about sixty miles away. Not long after we started driving, Kylie practically pressed herself against Reid. The music was loud, so I couldn’t hear what they were saying. But I could tell they were happy. Recently, because of how far Reid and Kylie kept crossing the line, we had fought several times. Reid always promised he would be more careful next time. Then the next time Kylie appeared, he forgot everything. Suddenly, it all felt meaningless. I lowered my head and smiled at myself bitterly, then turned to look out the window. The mountain road twisted ahead. Loose stones occasionally dotted the narrow path. When the car bumped, my body tilted. My bare knee under my skirt brushed against Edward’s thigh. Firm. Warm. I instinctively wanted to pull away. Then I saw the reddish mark on the side of Kylie’s neck. Anyone could tell it was a kiss mark. Who had left it was obvious. In that instant, my heart hardened. I stopped moving. 3 Edward opened his eyes. He looked at me. I pretended to be perfectly calm and stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. But my knee, pressed against the outside of his thigh, quietly leaned closer. Only a thin layer of suit fabric separated us. I could clearly feel the heat and strength of his muscles. That warmth came in waves, sending tiny electric shocks through my nerves. My mouth went dry. I swallowed and reached for the water again. The cold water slid down my throat, calming some of the panic and restlessness. It also made me suddenly clear-headed. Edward had not moved away either. He was letting me stay pressed against him. My heart seemed to stop for several seconds, then began beating faster and faster, almost out of control. Just then, the car suddenly swerved. Kylie cried out in the front seat. “That scared me, Ollie.” She patted her chest repeatedly, then praised him in a soft voice. “But you reacted so fast.” “If you hadn’t turned the wheel, that rock would’ve hit the car.” Reid immediately laughed. “See? My driving skills are pretty good, right?” Kylie leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Ollie is amazing. Kiss kiss.” “Stop it.” Reid at least remembered that his girlfriend was still in the back seat. He pretended to glare at Kylie. “How old are you? Still acting like a kid. Selena is right there.” Kylie widened her eyes, once again looking innocent and pure. “Selena, Ollie and I grew up together. I treat him like my actual brother. You don’t mind, right?” I pulled a blanket over myself and smiled coldly. “Do you kiss your actual brother like that at home too?” Kylie instantly looked hurt. “Ollie, see? I told you Selena doesn’t like me.” “Maybe I shouldn’t go after all. I don’t want to upset her.” Reid frowned at once. “That’s enough, Selena. You’re two years older than Kylie. Can’t you be more mature?” “She’s always been childish. Why say something so cruel?” At that moment, I didn’t even have the strength to argue. He wanted me to be generous? Fine. I only hoped that in the future, he could be generous too. 4 Under the blanket, my leg pressed more tightly against Edward’s. During another small bump, my knee and calf brushed over him again. Then Edward’s warm, slender hand suddenly caught my thigh. His palm pressed against my cool skin. Heat invaded me steadily. For a brief second, every sense seemed magnified a thousand times. I could even feel the thin calluses on the fingers that held scalpels for a living. The faint scrape of his fingertips across my skin. I couldn’t help glancing at him. Only a quick look. Yet I saw that he was still sitting upright, perfectly composed, his shirt collar buttoned neatly. But his Adam’s apple rolled hard. His profile was sharp and smooth, almost painfully handsome. Enough to make a heart stumble. 5 Edward was an outsider in Reid’s circle. If he weren’t distantly related to Reid through some complicated family connection, a quiet, cold, obsessively clean man like him would never mix with this group. After I started dating Reid, I naturally met Edward too. But every time we saw each other, we only nodded and exchanged polite greetings. He liked silence and rarely spoke. His private life was as clean as blank paper. After group dinners, when the others played cards or went out to party, Edward usually left early. If he stayed, he sat alone on a corner sofa with his eyes closed, never joining the noise. Reid once joked about him. “My cousin is practically a monk. Pure as fresh snow.” “He’s twenty-seven, but I bet he’s never touched a woman.” “He’s gotten better this year, though. Invite him ten times and he’ll show up three or four.” “A few years ago? Forget it. You wouldn’t even glimpse him.” Actually, I had heard of Edward in college and seen him from afar a few times. To me, Edward was like the kind of dream many girls imagined when they first learned what wanting someone meant. A moon hanging high above. Impossible to reach. Edward and I had never interacted much. There were only two times when I went to the hospital because of breast pain and happened to book an appointment with him. I was embarrassed at first. But Edward was so professional that I quickly calmed down. I even secretly scolded myself. He was a surgeon. What hadn’t he seen? No matter how young or pretty I was, no matter how good my figure might be, to him I was probably only a patient. Even so, when he examined me, I still squeezed my eyes shut and flushed bright red. When I left, I wasn’t sure if I imagined it, or if the heating had been too high. But Edward’s ears had looked a little red too. 6 “Ollie, stop at the next rest area. I need the bathroom.” Kylie’s voice suddenly pulled me back. I bit my lip and tried to move my leg away. But Edward’s fingers tightened slightly. I lowered my lashes and didn’t dare move. The car stopped. Kylie immediately insisted that Reid accompany her. Reid looked back at me awkwardly. Edward suddenly said in a low voice, “She’s asleep.” Reid seemed to relax at once. “Edward, I’ll take Kylie to the bathroom. We’ll be back soon.” Edward hummed. The doors opened, then closed. Their laughter faded away. The car fell quiet. “Selena Frost.” Edward suddenly lifted the blanket from my legs. “You’re sweating. Aren’t you hot?” I lowered my head, too afraid to look at him. I grabbed the water bottle, trying to hide my embarrassment by drinking. But Edward took it away. “Don’t drink too much cold water.” “Did you forget my medical advice?” I didn’t know where the courage came from, but I suddenly looked up at him. “Maybe your medical skills aren’t that great, Dr. Wren.” His brows tightened. “How so?” “I took the medicine you prescribed and avoided everything you told me to avoid. But it still hurts.” His frown deepened. “It still hurts?” “It hurts a little even now.” I pressed my lips together and lifted my chin slightly. “Should I come in for another exam, Dr. Wren?” Outside the window, not far away, Kylie had her arm hooked through Reid’s. They were pressed so closely together there was barely any space between them. Reid pinched her cheek now and then, then rubbed the top of her head. They looked exactly like an intimate couple. The resentment and anger that had been trapped inside my chest for so long crashed around, searching for an exit. Somehow, I grabbed Edward’s hand. “Or maybe Dr. Wren should fulfill his duty now and check me himself?” 7 Just as Edward’s hand was about to reach my chest, he moved faster than I did. His strong fingers gripped the back of my neck. With only a slight pull, he brought me right in front of him. “Selena.” He lowered his eyes to look at me. I had to tilt my face up to meet his gaze. “Don’t tempt me here.” “Did I tempt you?” I boldly held his gaze and refused to back down. “Or is Dr. Wren so lacking in medical ethics that he can watch a patient suffer and do nothing?” Before I finished speaking, Edward removed his glasses, lowered his head, and kissed me. His scent surrounded me completely. Cool, faintly bitter, with that clean trace of disinfectant that seemed soaked into every inch of him. My eyes flew open. I instinctively wanted to push him away. But his hand held me tighter. I let out a small sound, and the moment my lips parted, he deepened the kiss. The air was slowly stolen from me. Dizziness washed over me. My legs softened first, then my whole body, as if my bones had been removed. Edward held my jaw and kissed me deeper and deeper, until the root of my tongue felt numb. At some point, my hands had gripped his shirt, wrinkling the neat fabric. Our breathing tangled. Tears gathered at the corners of my eyes. Then Edward suddenly stopped. I looked up at him, dazed and wanting, as if asking for another kiss. Asking for more. Edward smiled lightly and wiped the moisture from the corner of my lips. “Don’t be so impatient, Selena.” “Hm?” I stared at him, still foggy. Edward lowered his head and gave my swollen lips one brief kiss. His forehead touched mine. His voice sounded beside my ear, low and husky. “Only thirty more miles. When we arrive, I’ll give you…” 8 My ears rang. My body, already soft from his kiss, burned even hotter. I could hardly believe words like that had come from Edward Wren. My ears must have been red. The back of my neck was scorching. I lifted a hand to push him away, but Edward tilted his head and kissed my earlobe. “They’re coming back.” I startled and looked out the car window. Reid and Kylie were walking back, laughing together. I quickly pushed Edward away, sat back in my seat, pulled the blanket over myself, and pretended to still be asleep. But the second I closed my eyes, my swollen lips reminded me. I took out a compact mirror. My lips were visibly kissed, glossy and red, and my lipstick was smudged. It looked wrong from every angle. I glared at Edward. “This is your fault. My lips are swollen.” He leaned against the seat, slowly wiping his glasses. Then he lifted his eyes toward me and pointed somewhere. “Then who should I blame for this?” I looked instinctively and my eyes widened. “You… how are you…” How was his reaction that intense? Hadn’t Reid said he was pure, untouched, and uninterested in women? “Selena, I’m still a normal man.” Edward put his glasses back on and pushed the frame lightly. In only a second, the heat and sensuality from when he kissed me seemed sealed away again. He was once more the cool, restrained Dr. Wren. But that contrast made something darkly satisfied bloom in me. After all, who didn’t want to pluck the flower from the snowy peak? Who didn’t want to see a cold, abstinent man lose control, burn with desire, go mad for her? To ruin him beautifully? Question men. Understand men. Become men. Truly an eternal truth. Just before Reid and Kylie reached the car, Edward somehow produced a small packet of spicy snack sticks and handed it to me. “Open it. Don’t eat it. Just pretend.” “Why can’t I eat it? I love these.” “Junk food. No benefit.” “Occupational disease.” I muttered, unimpressed, and tore the package open to eat one. Edward took it away and tossed it straight into the car trash bag. The car door opened. The first thing Kylie did after getting in was look back at me. “Selena, what happened to your mouth?” I pointed calmly at the trash bag. “Ate a few spicy sticks. My lips swelled.” Kylie covered her mouth and laughed at Reid. “Ollie, if we didn’t know better, we might think Selena kissed someone so hard her lips got swollen.” 9 Reid looked at me. His brows drew together, suspicion slowly entering his eyes. But when he saw Edward sitting coldly beside me without saying a word, his expression eased. “What nonsense are you saying? Selena stayed in the car the whole time. Who could she kiss?” “Who knows?” Kylie said. “Maybe after we left, Selena went somewhere.” As soon as she said that, Edward lifted his eyes toward her. His voice was cold. “She slept in the car the whole time. She woke up five minutes ago. I can testify.” Kylie froze. “Edward…” Edward cut her off directly. “The Wren family and the Blake family are not close. Miss Blake and I are not close either.” Kylie’s face flushed red. She looked at Reid like she was about to cry. Reid glanced at Edward’s icy expression and, in the end, did not dare say a word. Kylie was deeply wronged, but there was nothing she could do. The Blake family still relied on the Shaws. And the Shaw family kept their heads lowered before the Wrens. She could only swallow it. But she still secretly glared at me through the rearview mirror. I knew it. This debt had been written under my name again. For the remaining thirty miles, Kylie stayed quiet. When we arrived at the hot spring resort, Kylie clung to Reid and insisted on sharing a suite with him. “Ollie, I’ve never slept alone at night. I’m really scared.” “It’s a suite anyway. The two bedrooms are separate. Selena won’t mind, right?” Kylie shook Reid’s arm. Reid looked at me helplessly. I only smiled faintly. “Then I’ll switch rooms with her. I like the garden.” Reid seemed guilty and lowered his voice to comfort me. “Selena, it’s Kylie’s birthday this time. Let’s just let her have her way.” “Next time I’ll take you on a trip alone to make it up to you, okay?” I nodded generously. “Sure.” “I’ll take your luggage to your room first.” Without waiting for me to nod, Reid carried my luggage to the room. When he left again, the expression on his face looked much more at ease. There was a gathering that evening. I returned to my room, showered, changed into a new dress, and slowly did a soft but seductive makeup look. I arrived a little late, and everyone was already there. In the crowded room, I spotted Edward sitting alone by the window at once. He had changed into a white shirt, still wearing his glasses, looking even colder and more restrained. When I walked in, he only glanced at me lightly. But the moment I looked away, I saw him lift one hand and undo the top button of his shirt. As if unintentionally, his long fingers brushed over his Adam’s apple. I lowered my eyes and bit my lip. My mind wandered. If I bit him there, what would he look like losing control? 10 “Wow, Selena, why are you dressed so beautifully tonight?” Kylie ran over and grabbed my arm, shaking it. Then she pouted unhappily. “But come on, it’s my birthday. Why are you stealing the birthday girl’s spotlight?” “Ollie, judge for me. Selena is bullying me again.” I looked at Kylie. She had clearly dressed up carefully too. To be fair, she really did look like a little princess tonight. But there was a saying. Sometimes cuteness was worth nothing in front of sensuality. My usual style was casual and simple. Tonight, on a whim, I had gone for something much more alluring. A burgundy strappy mini dress and matching lace-up heels. The dress made my skin glow. The straps winding around my calves made my legs look even longer and slimmer. When Reid looked at me, astonishment clearly flashed in his eyes. The others immediately started teasing. “Selena doesn’t dress like this often. That’s a knockout. Reid, you lucky bastard.” “Look at Reid. His eyes are practically glued to her.” Reid looked a little proud. But when he walked to me, he coughed lightly and spoke seriously. “Selena, it’s Kylie’s birthday today.” “If you want to dress up, wear whatever you like when we’re on a date.” “Why upset Kylie like this?” I looked at Reid standing in front of me. I could clearly feel the small amount of affection and attachment I had once had for him draining away fast. But I did not feel much pain. Nor much reluctance. “Selena, did you hear me?” Reid frowned. Yet his eyes remained on my body, never moving away. “What do you want me to do?” “Go back and change.” Reid held my arm lightly and pulled me toward a quieter corner, lowering his voice. “Selena, you’re two years older than Kylie. Let her have this.” I pushed his hand away and smiled. “What if I don’t want to?” Reid froze first. Then he gave a low laugh. “What right do you have to tell me you don’t want to?” “But I don’t.” “If you don’t, then let’s break up.” Anger and disdain gradually gathered on Reid’s handsome, arrogant face. He seemed certain that I would be afraid of breaking up. Certain that I would not dare. “Then let’s break up.” I pushed his hand away. “As you wish.” Reid suddenly smiled. It was cold and sarcastic. “Fine. Getting bold now, are you? Then get out.” I did not say a word. I turned, opened the door, and walked out. 11 I did not return to my room. I took a bottle of red wine to the small garden. With the comfortable evening wind blowing, I was on my second glass when I sent Edward a message. “Dr. Wren.” He replied quickly, as if he had been waiting for my message. “What’s wrong?” “My breast pain is back.” Edward did not reply. A few minutes later, he called. I leaned back in the chair. The mountain night wind was cool. Not far away, the crabapple blossoms had not yet closed for the night. I felt a little drunk. My vision and senses were blurred and slow. But Edward’s voice beside my ear was unbelievably clear. “Selena Frost, where are you?” “When you kissed me, you called me Selena. Now that the kiss is over, it’s Selena Frost again. Dr. Wren, you really do turn cold fast.” The voice on the other end paused for several seconds. He seemed to laugh softly. Then when he said my name again, his voice was gentle. “Selena, where are you?” “In the garden.” “Dr. Wren, are you coming?” 12 Edward took me to his room. He was not staying in the same building as us. Instead, he had a detached house deep in a bamboo grove. On the way there, I asked curiously, “Aren’t you afraid someone will see?” Edward held my hand and reminded me to watch the stone path beneath my feet. When I looked down, I saw our overlapping shadows stretched long by the moonlight. “This resort belongs to the Wren family. You don’t need to be afraid or worried.” “Who said I was afraid or worried?” Edward glanced at me. I stopped walking and looked straight at him. “Reid and I are already over.” “So what do I have to fear?” “When did you end it?” “Half an hour ago. You were there.” Edward said nothing. The moon was bright, the stars sparse, and bamboo shadows swayed around us. Patchy light moved over his handsome face. Standing there beneath the moon, he looked like a lean bamboo stalk. “Selena Frost.” He tightened his hold on my hand slightly and pulled me into his arms. “You’d better have ended it cleanly.” “And you’d better not go back to him.” The detached house had a large courtyard. As soon as we entered, Edward pressed me against the back of the gate. He held my face and kissed me deeply, heavily, urgently. Between breaths, his face rested against my neck, his breathing burning hot. My arms hooked around his neck, fingers sliding into his thick hair. “Dr. Wren…” “Mm.” “Have you kissed other women?” He turned and kissed my lips again, his breath unsteady, voice low. “No.” “So you’ve never been with a woman either?” Edward held my face. His thumb brushed the moisture at the corner of my mouth. “No.” He was very tall. Even in heels, I only reached his chin. My hands, originally buried in his hair, slowly moved from the back of his neck to the open collar of his shirt. When my soft fingers touched his Adam’s apple, his reaction was shocking. His throat moved hard, and the palms holding my face burned like fire. All the tangled emotions in my heart desperately searched for an outlet. Desperately wanted release. I closed my eyes and pressed a light kiss to his throat. His hands, which had been holding my face, suddenly slid into my hair, long fingers tightening. He held me closer, forcing my lips to stay against him. His breathing lost its rhythm entirely, but he still restrained himself, refusing to let even a faint sound escape. “Dr. Wren, did you forget your proper duty?” His slender fingers traced my face. He lowered his head and kissed the corner of my eye. “What duty?” “I’m in pain. Aren’t you going to examine me?” I took his left hand and guided it down. His fingers stopped over my heart. The moonlight was silver. My exposed skin was pale as frost. I lifted my face and clearly saw the desire darkening his eyes. Then my hand pressed over his, gradually adding pressure. “Dr. Wren, can we begin now?” 13 Edward’s palm was hot. The skin over my heart felt like it might be burned by him. His throat moved heavily. Under the desire in his eyes was a terrifying possessiveness, as if he wanted to swallow me whole. We were too close. I could clearly feel every change in his body. He was like a volcano, burning away my thoughts until nothing remained. But I had underestimated Edward’s patience and self-control. Even in that moment, he forced his hand away from me. I stared at him, stunned, helpless and a little hurt. “Not here.” Edward held me and kissed me again. “Shower first.” “Otherwise it isn’t clean. It’s not good for you.” Something in my chest trembled lightly. Even the cool mountain wind seemed to soften. At that moment, no one could have resisted him. When we entered and changed shoes, I hadn’t even bent down before Edward took out a new pair of slippers and crouched in front of me. A surgeon’s hands were famously dexterous. The complicated straps of my heels wrapped around my calves in neat crisscrossing lines. One gentle tug should have undone them. But he clumsily pulled twice. He held my ankle and carefully placed my foot into the soft slipper. I looked down and saw the broad line of his shoulders under his white shirt. Below, the shirt hem disappeared into his trousers, his waist narrow and lean. Maybe it was the wine, but I felt hot and thirsty. When he stood, I suddenly rose on tiptoe, hooked my arms around his neck, and kissed him first. From the entryway to the bathroom, we kissed the whole way. When the shower water fell, his shirt was already rumpled in my hands. The straps of my dress had slipped from my shoulders. Edward pressed me against the wall and kissed me fiercely. Steam filled the bathroom, swallowing everything. He seemed ready to swallow me too. “Selena.” But at the last moment, Edward suddenly caught my wrist and pulled me back. He brushed the wet hair from my temple and laced his fingers with mine. Between burning, ragged breaths, his voice was dark and hoarse. “Bedroom.” “Not here. It’ll make you uncomfortable.”

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1 After my wife helped me recover from my severe depression, a deep, gnawing anxiety settled in my chest. Every day, I would send her a message, asking if she still loved me. For the first ninety-nine times, no matter how swamped she was, Victoria would reply with quiet patience. But when I sent that question for the hundredth time, she finally snapped, firing back three brutal messages. Grant, are you really this idle? Clinging to me every day with these pathetic questions, has your mental illness relapsed? Do yourself a favor; if you have this much free time, take a good look at your own miserable face. I froze, staring at the screen. The next second, the messages were recalled, replaced by a brief audio note. “I’m sorry, Grant. My assistant had my phone and sent those by mistake. Please don’t take it to heart.” Whether it was a mistake no longer mattered. All I knew was that my marriage to Victoria was completely over. … I got up, drove to the travel agency, and started the paperwork to leave the country. By the time I returned home, the sky was pitch black. The living room lights were blazing, and Victoria was sitting on the sofa. Hearing the door open, she looked up, her brow furrowing into a tight line. “Where have you been? It is past midnight, and you haven’t answered a single call or text.” I didn’t say a word. I slipped on my house shoes and walked to the kitchen to pour myself a glass of water. She followed me with her eyes, her gaze lingering on my face for a few quiet seconds before she spoke again. “I already explained what happened this afternoon. My assistant grabbed the wrong phone.” “He already apologized to me, and I gave him a stern warning. It won’t happen again.” An assistant grabbing his boss’s highly secured personal phone by mistake? I let out a soft laugh, set my glass down, and finally looked at her. Victoria was undeniably beautiful. I had known that from the very first moment I laid eyes on her. At thirty-three, she looked far more radiant than most women her age. Sitting on the sofa in her silk loungewear, she looked like she had stepped straight out of a high-fashion magazine. I used to love looking at her, believing I could spend a lifetime doing nothing else. But tonight, I realized her beauty had absolutely nothing to do with me. She was like a gorgeous coat displayed in a luxury storefront; you could stare at it through the glass for years, convincing yourself it was yours, but you never actually held it in your hands. “Victoria,” I said, my voice steadier than I expected. “What was your assistant’s name again?” She hesitated. “Christian. Why?” “How long has he been working for you?” “About six months,” she said, before quickly adding, “Why are you cross-examining me? I told you it was a mistake. Is there any need to obsess over this? Can’t you just let it go?” Four defensive questions in a row. I ignored them, keeping my tone level. “I remember when he first started. You complained to me that he was clumsy and slow, nothing like the sharp, capable people you usually hire. After that, you stopped mentioning him. I assumed you had let him go.” “It turns out you kept him. And ever since he arrived, you’ve been working late almost every night, and your business trips have tripled.” Victoria’s frown deepened. “Grant, what exactly are you trying to say?” I offered a small smile. “I’m just stating the facts.” Her irritation flared, her voice turning sharp and dismissive. “Grant, did your mental illness really relapse? Are you seriously acting this paranoid over a few accidental text messages?” Mental illness. Those two words felt like a slender needle, driving straight into the center of my chest. How long had we been married? Four years. When I was twenty-two, my depression had returned with a vengeance, forcing me to flee my university abroad and return home in secret. At a party hosted by a mutual friend, I met Victoria. The moment I saw her, the heavy fog in my mind seemed to lift. I began to pursue her relentlessly. At first, she rejected me, claiming she had no interest in younger men. But I was stubborn. I laid my heart bare before her, buying flowers, selecting jewelry, and eventually proposing. People behind my back laughed, calling me a pathetic boy chasing an older, cold woman. But I didn’t care. I believed that loving someone meant being brave. Eventually, she relented. We dated for a year and got married. Throughout our four years of marriage, I was always the one pouring everything into the relationship. On the rare occasions she offered a crumb of affection, my entire world would light up. Then, a year ago, she insisted on taking me to a specialist. For twelve months, she traveled with me across the country, seeking every treatment until my depression was finally declared cured. I should have been thrilled, but instead, a cold dread began to take root in my mind. I became obsessed with asking if she loved me. She never actually used the word love, but she would reply with gentle promises to come home early. Until yesterday, when the personal phone she never allowed me to touch was used by another man to humiliate me. That was when the truth finally settled in. She had never truly cared. But it was fine. It was over now. I was simply too tired to keep loving her. Seeing my silence, she likely assumed I was backing down. She walked over to me, leaning down to wrap her arms around my shoulders. “Alright, let’s stop overthinking. I had the maid make some soup for you. Have a warm bowl, get some rest, and tomorrow morning I’ll take you out to…” “I want a divorce,” I said softly. She froze. Her arms remained suspended in mid-air, her body rigid. The apartment fell so quiet that the rhythmic ticking of the wall clock seemed to echo in the space. One. Two. Three. Slowly, she pulled back, standing tall as she looked down at me with a cold, mocking laugh. “What did you just say?” 2 I met her gaze, speaking clearly. “I said, I want a divorce.” Victoria’s composure began to crack. In the five years I had known her, I had almost never seen her lose her temper. She was always composed, her emotions as steady and calculated as a high-precision machine. But right now, the gears were grinding to a halt. I watched her, finding the sight oddly novel. “You want a divorce over three accidentally sent text messages?” she asked, her voice tight. I kept a light, empty smile on my face. “Yes.” “Grant!” She barked my name, letting out a frustrated laugh. “I told you it was a mistake! Are you deaf?” I shrugged. “I know.” “You know?” Her voice climbed a register, her eyes flashing with a sudden, angry red. “You know, and you’re still demanding a divorce? Have you completely lost your mind?” “Grant, you are clearly just too bored.” She had never shouted at me like this before. Whenever we had minor disagreements in the past, she would simply go cold and silent, waiting for me to bow my head and apologize first. I burst into a genuine laugh. “Victoria, look at you. You actually know how to get angry. You actually know how to look desperate. I spent years thinking the only tool in your box was giving me the cold shoulder.” She stared at me, stunned, before her hand shot out, gripping my jaw with bruising force. Her eyes burned with fury. “Grant, have you had enough of this tantrum? I told you I didn’t send those messages! Why won’t you believe me?” “Isn’t this what you wanted? You keep asking if I love you. Fine! I love you! Are you happy now?” “If you’re feeling insecure, we can go to the bedroom right now. I’ll make love to you until you’re satisfied, alright?” Without waiting for a response, she leaned down and bit my lip. In our entire relationship, she had never initiated a kiss. Even during our most intimate moments, I was always the one reaching for her. There was a time when I would have given anything for her to be this desperate for me. But right now, I felt only a deep, oily wave of disgust. I bit down on her lip, hard. She gasped in pain, flinching away from me. I stared up at her, my own eyes burning. “If you want to sleep with someone, go find someone else. Your little assistant looks like he is practically begging for it.” Victoria gasped. “What did you say?” “I said, go find another man to crawl into bed with. Don’t touch me with those hands. You disgust me, Victoria. You make my skin crawl.” She stared at me, her gaze sharp enough to pierce bone. Three seconds passed in suffocating silence before a cold, vicious smile spread across her face. “Fine. Since you are so generous, I’ll do exactly what you want.” “Don’t you dare regret this. And don’t you dare come crawling back to me on your knees!” She spun on her heel, slamming the front door behind her with a deafening crash. The apartment fell silent once more. I stared at the closed door, and the tears I had been holding back finally spilled over. I slumped against the kitchen counter, sobbing until my chest ached. It was as if I were crying out every ounce of humiliation and neglect I had endured over the last four years. I won’t regret this, Victoria. And I will never beg you again. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and dialed a familiar number. “Valerie. Pull our family’s Wall Street funding from Victoria’s firm. Every single cent.” 3 Victoria did not return that night. The next morning was Saturday, and she had no reason to be at the office. I didn’t know where to find her to get her signature on the divorce papers, but my phone solved that problem for me. A notification popped up, followed by a frantic voice note from my best friend, Beatrice. “Grant! Oh my god, isn’t this your high-and-mighty wife?” “I was shopping at Bellevue Square and I saw her with some guy! She literally knelt down in the middle of the mall to tie his sneakers!” “Are you kidding me? You guys have only been married for four years and she is already parading her side piece in public? What a shameless parasite! I swear to god, I am going to ruin both of them!” I clicked on the video link she sent. In the high-definition footage, Victoria, the woman who always held herself above everyone else, was kneeling on the polished floor, patiently tying the laces of a young man’s designer sneakers. The young man was filming her with his phone, laughing, and she looked up at him with a helpless, fond smile. A sharp, familiar pain pricked my heart. I had asked her to do things like that for me in the past, but she had always looked down at me with cool disdain, letting me embarrass myself until I made an excuse to change the subject. I pinched the bridge of my nose and texted Beatrice back. We are getting a divorce. A second after sending the text, an unknown number called my phone. “Hello, is this Grant Mercer? Your wife and her friend have been involved in a physical altercation at the district precinct. We need you to come down immediately.” Beatrice had a terrible temper, but I hadn’t expected her to move this fast. I quickly got dressed and caught a cab to the station. The moment I stepped through the glass doors of the precinct, the shouting echoed from the back rooms. “Victoria! How can you look at yourself in the mirror? Grant gave you everything, and you couldn’t wait to find a new toy! You brought your little stray out to a public mall to play house? Have you no shame?” “Grant loved you more than his own life…” “Did I ask him to?” Victoria’s cold, sharp voice cut through the air. I froze in the doorway. “Did I force him to treat me well?” Victoria continued, her voice dripping with venom. “Didn’t he throw himself at me, crawl into my bed, and beg to marry me the second I waved my hand? Why should his pathetic devotion be my responsibility? I don’t love him, so why should I care?” Beatrice was white with rage, and two officers had to physically hold her back to keep her from lunging across the desk. “Victoria! You miserable leech! If it weren’t for Grant, your company would have been bankrupt years ago…” “Beatrice, stop,” I said, stepping into the room and addressing the desk sergeant. “I’m here to take her home.” Before the officer could speak, Victoria’s voice rang out, cold as winter. “Your friend assaulted my assistant. You think she can just walk out of here?” I looked at the young man sitting beside her. Christian was holding a hand to his red, swollen cheek, whimpering as he leaned against Victoria’s shoulder. Finally, I looked at my wife. “What do you want?” Victoria’s eyes were like ice. “Your friend slapped Christian. I want that slap returned.” Beatrice let out a harsh laugh. “You want him to slap me? Try it, you little…” “I’m not talking about you,” Victoria interrupted, her eyes locking onto my face. “Grant, your friend committed a crime on your behalf. It is only fair that you pay the price.” 4 “You disgusting, low-life…” Beatrice was shaking with rage, trying to break free from the officers’ grip. I took a step forward. “Fine.” Beatrice whipped her head toward me, her eyes wide. “Grant! Are you insane? She is the one who cheated! She is the one who betrayed you!” I didn’t answer her. I walked up to Victoria and Christian. “Do it.” Christian looked up, his eyes watery as he whispered, “Miss Barrett, let’s not make a scene. I’m fine…” Slap! Before he could finish his sentence, Victoria grabbed his wrist and swung his hand violently across my face. The stinging heat bloomed across my cheek instantly. I turned to walk away. “I didn’t say you were finished,” Victoria’s voice was devoid of any warmth. “He gave Christian one slap. I want it returned tenfold.” She dragged Christian forward by the arm. Before I could brace myself, the slaps began to rain down on my face. Slap! Slap! Slap! Nine more slaps, each one heavier and more vicious than the last. With every strike that landed, the remaining pieces of my love for her shattered into dust, fading away into nothingness. When the final blow landed, I felt nothing at all. A warm trickle of copper-tasting blood ran down the corner of my mouth. The officers in the room stood by, silent. No one dared to interfere with Victoria Barrett, the most powerful CEO in the city. Victoria let go of Christian’s hand and gently massaged his wrist. Then she looked at me, her voice cutting. “Keep your friend on a leash. If she barks at my people like a rabid dog again, I won’t be this lenient.” She took Christian’s hand and turned to leave. “Victoria,” I called out. I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the folded papers. “Sign them. Let’s finish the divorce.” Victoria stared at the document, a flicker of disbelief crossing her eyes. “You’re really going through with this?” I nodded. “Yes.” She stared at me for several long seconds, then let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Grant, is this your new way of begging for my attention? Play-acting a divorce?” I wiped the blood from my lip. “Believe what you want.” Victoria’s face darkened instantly. She snatched the papers from my hand, grabbed a pen from the desk, and scrawled her signature across the line. She shoved the papers violently against my chest, letting them flutter to the floor. “Let me remind you of something, Grant. Without me and my status, you are absolutely nothing.” “When you come crawling back to me on your knees, begging for my forgiveness, I won’t even look at you.”

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