Author: Momo Chan

“My wife’s watch was bugged; her lover installed it. I sued her lover.” The day of the UN negotiations, I noticed my translator wife had a new electronic watch on her wrist. She said it was a gift from her “close friend” to monitor her health, implying I wasn’t as thoughtful or caring as an outsider. I found it strange, so while she napped, I secretly examined it and discovered a listening device inside. After urgently reporting it, I used my own professional credentials to offset my wife’s mistake. Her close friend ended up on the wanted list and died in a car accident while fleeing. My wife said he got what he deserved, and she became even more attentive toward me. But then at work, she deliberately leaked my translation materials, causing me to be taken away for investigation as a suspected spy. “Nathan Harper, that listening device was clearly planted by YOU! You were jealous of Alex and wanted him dead!” “I truly regret leaving Alex to marry a vicious man like you. You should be six feet under apologizing to Alex!” When I opened my eyes again, I’d returned to the day her close friend gave her that watch. This time, I didn’t meddle. Instead, I signed my name on the divorce papers. — “Nathan Harper, can you stop being so uptight? Would Alex really try to hurt me?” Emily’s impatient voice snapped me back from the shock of being reborn. Our commotion caught the attention of other team members. “Team Leader Bennett, that electronic watch on your wrist doesn’t seem to have been reported?” A sharp-eyed team member noticed the brand-new watch on Emily’s wrist and kindly reminded her. Emily frowned. “This is a personal gift. I don’t need to report it.” “But that doesn’t comply with regula—” Before the team member could finish, she cut them off sharply, “Enough. I’m the team leader for this assignment. If there’s really a problem, I’ll take responsibility.” Hearing this, the team member could only look at me helplessly. I lowered my eyes slightly as memories from my previous life flooded my mind. I’d been worried she might make a huge mistake through carelessness, so I’d secretly checked that watch. After discovering the listening device, I’d traded my ten-year-earned promotion opportunity for her safety. But what I received in return was her insane revenge. I could never forget the horrific scene of being dragged behind a car for hundreds of miles. At this thought, a flash of hatred crossed my eyes. “Team Leader Bennett always knows what she’s doing. We don’t need to worry unnecessarily.” Seeing I wasn’t pressing the watch issue, Emily’s expression improved considerably. Just then, Alex rushed over with his suitcase, out of breath. “Emily, take me with you. I haven’t been abroad in ages.” The team member didn’t hesitate to refuse, “No way! You’re not qualified to participate in such an important assignment.”

“Besides, the personnel list for this trip was personally determined by the Director. Even Team Leader Bennett doesn’t have the authority to add or remove people at will.” A flash of displeasure crossed Alex’s eyes, his tone as if defending Emily’s honor, “Emily, I didn’t realize that as team leader, you don’t even have the right to add an accompanying staff member.” “But why do your team members look at Nathan every time they speak? People who don’t know might think Nathan is the team leader!” Emily immediately flared up. “Who exactly is the team leader—me or Nathan Harper? Since you all listen to him so much, I don’t mind applying to the Director for a complete staff replacement!” Seeing Emily lose her temper publicly, no one dared say anything more. She softened her tone slightly and continued, “Alex needs this rare learning opportunity precisely because he’s a contractor. Otherwise, how will he improve?” “So he’s coming with us this time.” “That doesn’t comply with regulations.” I finally looked up, my tone calm. Emily’s face darkened again. She stared at me, her eyes full of undisguised fury and warning. “I know you’re jealous of Alex, but don’t bring personal feelings into work.” “Anyone who disagrees can voluntarily withdraw from this assignment!” The team members’ expressions all changed. This opportunity was extremely rare—everyone wanted to perform well to prepare for future promotions. Emily swept her cold gaze over everyone, her tone arrogant, “If you don’t want to quit, then shut up. Otherwise, pack your things and get out of the Translation Institute.” I suppressed my churning emotions and said nothing more. Emily Bennett, this time I won’t meddle in your affairs. I want to see how this ends for you.

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My wife spent seven years retaking the Bar Exam—working at our tutoring academy by day, studying by night. Year seven, she finally passed. I took time off to celebrate with her. We’d planned a trip. But the morning we were supposed to leave, she cancelled. Said she had a Summer Intensive Program to run. That afternoon, her assistant—Zane—posted on Instagram Stories. In the photo, Scarlett was leaning over a desk, walking a kid through geometry homework. His caption: “My wife’s a Bar-certified genius. She came home to tutor my little genius.” I laughed. Then I commented: “The son’s got his mom’s eyes. I bet he’ll be a lawyer too someday.” Our staff group chat exploded. Everyone speculating about when I’d finally snap. Scarlett called. Her voice was ice. “Julian. What the hell was that comment? Are you trying to humiliate Zane?” “We’re colleagues. I helped tutor his kid for one afternoon. Can you not be so petty about everything?” “Delete it. We’ll reschedule the trip.” I hung up without a word. The divorce papers finalize in three days. No way am I going on a trip with my ex. — The sun was brutal. I peeled my shirt away from my skin and stepped out of the concert queue. I’d lined up since seven in the morning—Scarlett’s favorite artist was playing tonight and she wanted front row. But now there was no point. I handed my ticket to a couple nearby who hadn’t gotten theirs in time. They gave me that look—the pity look. I walked away. I ducked into a convenience store to get out of the heat. The second the AC hit me, my phone buzzed. Zane had posted in the company group chat. “Just to clear things up—the Instagram Story was a joke. Benny is my son from my ex-wife. Not Scarlett’s. Don’t read into it.” I let out a tired laugh. Nobody responded. Until Scarlett did. “We all know it was a joke, Zane. No need to explain yourself. Only someone with serious trust issues would misread that.” That was all her staff needed. They piled on like they’d been waiting. “Exactly! It was so obviously harmless. Don’t sweat it, Zane.” “The one person in the group who couldn’t take a joke still hasn’t replied. Might want to reach out to him directly…” These people used to kiss my ass when my numbers were good. Now they were wiping Zane’s shoes. And here I was—the guy who had spent ten years building this woman’s dream—getting stomped on in the process. Even the senior staff I’d personally hired and promoted were circling Zane like he was already king. Because the person Scarlett valued wasn’t me—the silent partner who’d sacrificed everything—but a divorced single dad with two kids and an agenda. I felt cold. I left the group. I’d barely taken a sip of cold water when my phone rang. It was Amy, our scheduler. “Julian, I asked you to go pick up a student from the elementary school. He’s been waiting. What’s going on?” We ran a college prep academy. Our students came to us. What student needed picking up from an elementary school? “Which student?” I asked. “Benny,” she said, impatient. “Zane’s older kid. Fifth grade. Go pick him up and bring him here so he can do his homework.” I stared at the wall. “Why would I babysit Zane’s kid?” She sighed. “Scarlett’s orders. Zane had to go deal with something. Just go, he’s been waiting.” Zane hadn’t “gone to deal with something.” He was cornered at the academy by a furious parent whose kid had bombed the Bar Prep mock exams under his tutoring. I told Scarlett from the beginning—Zane never finished high school. He had no business teaching college prep. She hired him anyway. Now she wanted me to babysit his mess? “I’m not going,” I said. “Tell Scarlett to call me herself.” I hung up. I wasn’t about to go fetch the other man’s kid while his hands were wrapped around my marriage. I downed the rest of my cold water and waited. Three minutes later, Scarlett called. I picked up. “What do you want.” Her voice was a blade. I could practically see the vein in her neck. “Julian. Have I been too easy on you?”

“Did you call me just to threaten me?” I asked, leaning against the counter. “Or to ask why I haven’t picked up your boyfriend’s kid yet?” “I made one mistake,” she snapped. “And you’ve been milking it ever since. You have ten minutes to get to that school, or we’re done. File for divorce. I mean it.” I was gripping my phone so hard. I started counting in my head. This was the fourth time in two years she’d thrown the word “divorce” at me to get what she wanted. I was about to say something when I heard it—laughing, clattering, the sound of people having dinner. She was with Zane’s family. Making meals. “Funny,” I said quietly. “You’re at his parents’ place making meals, and you’re still managing to yell at me on the phone. Aren’t you worried his folks will get the wrong idea?” “Oh right. I forgot. Only petty people like me get the wrong idea.” She erupted. “You have NO IDEA how hard it is for Zane to raise two kids on his own! Supporting a colleague is normal! You acting unhinged about it is the problem!” A beat of silence on her end. Then Zane’s voice, soft and close: “Scarlett, the diner was ready. Come eat.” Her tone shifted completely. Warm. Almost tender. “Give me a second, I’m sorting out a work thing.” Then back to me, cold as ever:”Julian. Tutor Benny tonight. If he doesn’t pass the middle school entrance exam next year, you’re fired.” She hung up. I sat with it for a moment. Scarlett wasn’t the same girl who used to blush when she saw me. She wasn’t the woman who once skipped dinner to save money so I could have a decent meal. She’d stopped being that person the first time she chose Zane over me. And she’d made that choice over and over again. I went back to my hotel room and checked my phone. My name was trending on Twitter. Headline: “Child left waiting five hours as tutor ignores student.” Thousands of people were posting about me. Calling me unprofessional, cold, heartless. Strangers on the internet demanding I apologize to Zane. I laughed out loud. The divorce papers finalize in three days. Let them post whatever they want. I closed Twitter and submitted my resignation through the company portal. HR was surprised. Said they’d need to loop in Scarlett. I was fully prepared for a confrontation. Instead, fifteen minutes later, there were two company-wide announcements. One reprimanding me. One terminating me. Scarlett had cut faster than I expected. Good. Whatever was left of my feelings died with those two notifications. I spent three days doing absolutely nothing productive—good food, late nights, long walks. Then I flew home. When I unlocked the door to our apartment, I was hit with the smell. Stale and cold. Neglected. Scarlett had been spending most nights in the staff housing near the academy. This place barely counted as home anymore. I thought about the apartment my parents had wanted to buy us when we first got married. I’d talked them out of it—said we needed to be frugal to fund Scarlett’s Bar prep. We bought a secondhand two-bedroom instead. I cooked for her every night back then. Drove her to the library on weekends. Paid for the best tutors I could find. And every year she’d fall just short. Every year, she’d take a trip with Zane to “clear her head.” I thought I was being patient. Building toward something. Turns out I was just waiting to be discarded. She passed the Bar. And the first thing she did with her new life was sharpen a knife for me. I tore the photo off the wall—us at some waterfall upstate, back when we still smiled like that. I called a realtor and listed the apartment. It wouldn’t sell for much. But I didn’t want a single thing in this apartment anymore.

The next morning, I went to the academy to finish my handover. One last session with my students. After class, one of the boys lingered. “Mr. Caldwell—are you really leaving? I can’t book sessions with you anymore.” I nodded. Word had apparently spread fast. He noticed the framed photo on my desk and lit up. “Wait—is that this year’s Bar exam top scorer? She passed number one!” He pointed at my travel mug. “She has the same mug. Is she your wife?” My hand froze on the mug. Then I heard it crack. I’d squeezed too hard. I tossed both the photo and the broken mug in the trash. “We were just colleagues,” I told him. He left. Seconds later, Zane walked in with Benny. “Julian,” Zane said, voice sharp. “Were you deliberately avoiding picking up Benny? Is this your way of targeting me?” The nerve of this guy. I didn’t even look at him. Just picked up my bag and headed for the door. “Julian! You’re leaving? You actually quit?” he called after me. I glanced back. “Yeah. Got fired for not babysitting your kid. You’re welcome.” Zane’s face tightened. But he recovered fast, tilting his chin up. “Per company policy, you need to formally apologize to Benny and his father for the inconvenience you caused.” I stopped walking. Turned around slowly. “Apologize to you.” I pointed at my own chest. “Me. Apologize to you.” I almost laughed. “If this were another century, I’d have already made you regret saying that.” “Now get out of my way.” I stepped around him. But as I passed, Zane suddenly grabbed Benny’s hand and dropped—both of them—dramatically to the floor. A theatrical groan. I stared at them on the ground, completely baffled. Then Scarlett came rushing in. She helped them up with trembling hands, her face pale—and then she turned to me with murder in her eyes. “Is this what you do when I’m not around? You push children?” Zane looked up with glistening eyes. “I just wanted an apology for Benny. I didn’t think Julian would…” Scarlett pointed at me, her whole body rigid. “Apologize. Right now. Then write a formal statement. Or so help me—” “Or what?” I cut her off. “You’ll fire me again? You did that yesterday.” She froze. Blinked.

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The day my family declared bankruptcy, I pulled my mother back from the ledge of the roof. I told her I would sell myself to Sebastian Hargrave to get the money to save us. “The price tag?” Sebastian asked, his voice cold as winter steel. “Two million dollars.” He was silent for three seconds before letting out a low laugh. “Deal.” Six months into our marriage, he brought his mistress home. Before I could even process what was happening, he threw the prenuptial agreement in my face. “Don’t forget your place, Elena. You already sold yourself to me, didn’t you? It’s none of your damn business.” I had no rebuttal. Not until the day of my acute appendicitis, when I was fourteen dollars short on the pharmacy bill. Over the phone, his voice dripped with mockery: “Didn’t I already pay you everything upfront? What, getting addicted to being a kept woman?” He hung up. Then turned around and dropped fourteen million on a limited-edition Patek Philippe for his girlfriend. Facing the nurse’s impatient stare, I forced a smile. “Cancel the surgery. Just discharge me, please.” A marriage bought for two million dollars had finally reached its end. — My phone buzzed against the hospital intake counter. A bank notification. Fourteen dollars deposited. The memo read: *For your surgery. Don’t embarrass the Hargrave name.* I let out a bitter laugh that turned into a wince of pain. Fourteen dollars would cover the pharmacy co-pay. But not the $331 deposit for the actual surgery. I knew Sebastian wouldn’t give me another cent. Not when he’d just spent fourteen million on a watch for Tiffany. So I swallowed my pride and texted my old friends, asking to borrow $317. Combined with what I had and his fourteen dollars, it would be just enough. The replies came fast. *Wow, the gold digger needs money? Blew through two million already?* *If you hadn’t trapped Sebastian and broken his heart, you wouldn’t be begging for pocket change now.* The cruel messages kept coming. I’d gone numb. Numb to Sebastian treating our marriage like a transaction. Treating me like a piece of property he’d bought for two million. Numb to his friends’ endless mockery, calling me a gold digger in a thousand creative ways. Numb to the humiliation of an empty wallet, to stepping on my own dignity over and over, begging Sebastian for scraps. At first, I thought I could manage. I’m a grown woman with a degree and two working hands—I should be able to support myself. Maybe even save up two million to pay him back. But Sebastian cut off every avenue I had to earn money. “I already paid two million for the rest of your life. Your time, your freedom—they’re mine now.” He wanted to break me. To force me to come crawling to him for money. It was his way of punishing me for turning our love into a negotiation. For making him believe I’d been lying to him for three years—that it was always about the money. I tried to explain. So many times. But he never had the patience to listen. “What’s the point of all these excuses?” “You’re the one who asked for the money. We became this because of you.” Another notification lit up my cracked phone screen. Someone had transferred $371 with a note: *Payment for letting me enjoy watching you suffer.* I wiped the dampness from my face and smiled at the nurse. “I can pay now. Please schedule the surgery as soon as possible.” But I didn’t have enough left for anesthesia. So I lay there on that freezing surgical table, wide awake and shivering. Cold sweat soaked through my hair and hospital gown. I could feel everything. The scalpel breaking skin. The instruments entering my body. The twisting, cutting motions inside me. When the tearing pain hit its peak, I thought of Sebastian. He used to hold me close in bed, fingers tracing patterns on my skin. “After we’re married, let’s have a baby. Boy or girl, I don’t care. I’ll love you both with everything I have.” But when I actually brought up trying for a child six months into our marriage, he sneered: “You want me to give you my baby? So you can trap me forever with child support? In your dreams.” I don’t want it anymore, Sebastian. Not the money. Not the love. Not you. I don’t want any of it. — I don’t know how long I endured that surgery. Finally, mercifully, it ended. As the instruments withdrew, sound slowly filtered back in. The nurse unstrapped my legs and helped me onto a recovery bed for a thirty-minute observation period. I stared blankly out the window at the dark Manhattan sky, tears sliding down my face. Suddenly, a firework shot into the air, exploding in a brilliant burst of gold and crimson. Then another. And another. Until the entire city was lit up like daylight. I stared at the sky, dazed. Nearby, I heard a few young nurses whispering enviously: “Did you hear? Mr. Hargrave set this off for his girlfriend! That Tiffany girl is so lucky!” “Wait, what girlfriend? Mr. Hargrave has a wife! Though I heard she’s just some gold digger. Apparently she’s lower than the household staff now.”

On the way home, I dragged my freshly sutured abdomen step by agonizing step through the snow-dusted streets. A taxi pulled up beside me. The driver rolled down his window. “Where to, miss?” I waved him off weakly. “No thanks.” I couldn’t afford the fare. Not after spending everything on surgery. So I walked. Eight miles back to the Hargrave estate in Greenwich. All around me, people were still raving about tonight’s fireworks show. “So beautiful! If someone did that for me, my life would be complete!” “Keep dreaming. You think you’re Sebastian Hargrave’s girlfriend? Look at that girl over there—pale as a ghost and no one cares.” I glanced up at the two women whispering about me. They blushed and stammered that they didn’t mean anything by it, asking if I needed help. I smiled and shook my head. What I wanted to say was: *I’ve had fireworks like that before.* Once upon a time, someone cared. It was the day Sebastian proposed to me. He knelt on one knee outside the Plaza Hotel, holding out a ring, eyes brimming with what looked like tears. “Elena Martinez, you’re the most extraordinary woman I’ve ever met. I want to spend my life with you. Love you forever.” “Will you marry me?” Behind him, fireworks even more brilliant than tonight’s lit up the sky over Central Park. But that was also the day I’d pulled my mother back from suicide. Debt collectors were still at our apartment in Queens, using my mother and seven-year-old brother as leverage, demanding immediate payment. I had no choice. So I asked him: “Sebastian… could you lend me two million dollars?” His expression froze instantly. The love in his eyes drained away like water through a sieve. He stood up slowly, a mocking smile curling his lips. “Everyone said you were with me for my money. I didn’t believe them.” “Elena, you really know how to play the long game. Waiting until I proposed—until half of Manhattan was watching—before showing your true colors.” He laughed coldly and signaled to stop the fireworks. Then he pulled a check from his tuxedo pocket and threw it in my face. “Fine. You’re cheap enough, anyway.” From that day on, everything changed. No matter how I tried to explain, I couldn’t shake the label of gold digger. With Sebastian’s silent approval, I became the biggest joke in the entire Upper East Side. Even the household staff earned $30,000 a month. But I had to beg him for three dollars for subway fare. I kept enduring. Waiting for the day his anger would fade. For a chance to explain about my father’s gambling debts, my brother’s medical bills, the loan sharks who threatened to kill my family. Until he brought his first girlfriend home. I lost it. But he just looked at me like I was pathetic and asked what right I had to be angry. He said he’d already bought out our marriage. That even if he brought home a hundred women, it was my own fault for being a whore who sold herself. My heart shattered. But I couldn’t say a single word in my defense. — Six hours in the freezing January wind. Finally, at 1 AM, I made it to the gates of the Hargrave estate. I pushed open the door to warmth and soft lighting. I was about to drag myself upstairs to the small bedroom I’d been relegated to when I heard Sebastian’s voice from the living room. “You’re finally back. Where is it?” I stared at him, sprawled across the couch with Tiffany draped across his lap like a cashmere throw, and asked blankly: “Where’s what?” “Playing dumb? Didn’t I text you to pick up condoms on your way home?” Sebastian looked me up and down with contempt. “I spent all that money on you. Can’t even handle a simple errand?” My phone had died hours ago. I hadn’t seen any message. I bit my lip and forced out: “Buy them yourself.” Maybe my cold tone set him off. He shot up from the couch, his six-foot frame towering over me, eyes blazing. “What, you want more money? I just gave you fourteen dollars. That’s enough for a box, isn’t it?” “Go buy them now. If you don’t come back with them, don’t bother coming back at all.”

I stared at him in disbelief. This wasn’t the first time Sebastian had spoken to me like this. I thought I’d gone numb to his cruelty. But my chest still throbbed with a dense, suffocating pain— It was barely above freezing outside. Even through the windows, I could hear the wind howling. It was past 1 AM. Where the hell was I supposed to buy condoms? When I didn’t move, Sebastian let out a cold laugh. “Why are you still standing there? Need more money?” He pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his wallet and tossed it on the marble floor without even looking at me. “There. Is that enough?” He paused, his eyes narrowing. “You called me earlier asking for fourteen dollars for medicine. Where is it?” “Elena, you’re really shameless now. Scamming me for fourteen dollars?” Anesthesia? The surgery was already over. What would be the point of explaining? Before I could answer, Sebastian waved over his security guard. They shoved me out the front door into the freezing night. Through the heavy wood, his voice turned even colder. “If you don’t come back with condoms, stay outside all night.” Then came the sound of kissing. Giggling. Followed by something far more obscene. I instinctively wanted to walk away. To get as far from those sounds as possible. But I didn’t even have the strength to stand. I slid down against the door and sat on the cold stone steps. The freezing wind cut through my thin jacket. And froze whatever warmth was left in my dying heart. — At some point—I don’t know how long I’d been sitting there—I heard the door open behind me. Then Sebastian’s frantic cursing: “Elena, are you insane?! You couldn’t find somewhere warm?!” “Is this little guilt-trip act fun for you?!” A familiar scent of expensive perfume hit me. It must be a hallucination, I thought. Sebastian hates me now. He wouldn’t care if I died. When I opened my eyes, Sebastian’s face was ashen with what looked like fury. “Done pretending? I just asked you to buy condoms. Was it really worth this pathetic performance?” “What, you want the media to find out you nearly froze to death outside the Hargrave estate so you can extort more money from me?” I tried to speak. But my throat burned, raw and painful. Sebastian looked away, refusing to meet my eyes. “Where the hell is the family doctor?! Why isn’t he here yet?!” “Don’t let her die on my property!” Tears slid silently down my frozen face. Sebastian, what do you even want from me? You hate me enough to wish me dead. But now you’re terrified I actually will die. I closed my eyes, my voice barely a rasp: “Sebastian. Let’s get divorced.”

He whipped around like I’d told a joke. “Divorced? Fine. Pay me back the two million first.” He paused, then let out a bitter laugh. “Oh, I get it. You think threatening me with divorce will get you another payout, right?” “So tell me—how much this time? Two million? Five?” I couldn’t hold back anymore. “Our marriage is already—” But before I could finish, a loud, exaggerated panting came from inside the house. Tiffany appeared in the doorway, wrapped in Sebastian’s shirt. The family doctor arrived right behind her. After a quick examination, the doctor hesitated before speaking carefully to Sebastian: “Mr. Hargrave… Mrs. Hargrave appears to have just had surgery. Appendectomy. Without anesthesia, based on these sutures.” He paused, clearly uncomfortable. “She needs immediate rest and monitoring. The cold exposure could cause the incision to—” “Fine. Take her to the guest house.” Sebastian cut him off, not even looking at me. “Make sure she doesn’t die. That’s all.” — The recovery period was brutal. But what came after was worse. Because once I could walk again, Sebastian found new ways to punish me. It started with Tiffany. She’d moved into the main house full-time now. And Sebastian made sure I knew my place. One morning at breakfast, Tiffany casually mentioned wanting truffle risotto for lunch. Sebastian turned to me, his face blank. “Didn’t you hear what Tiffany said?” I stared at the scrambled eggs already on the table and said nothing. He smiled. That cold, cruel smile I’d come to know so well. “Oh, you want money for groceries? Fine. I’ll pay.” “Deal?” I finished my last bite and walked to the kitchen without looking back. Once I left, I heard Tiffany’s sugary voice: “Babe, aren’t you worried humiliating Elena with money will make her, like, snap or something?” Sebastian snorted. “Don’t worry. As long as there’s money involved, she’d sell her soul.” This time, he was right. As long as it helped me scrape together two million to pay him back, I’d do anything. From that day on, I became Tiffany’s personal servant. Making her coffee? $30,000 per week. Running her errands? $50,000. Sometimes, when Sebastian wanted to humiliate me further, he’d make me sit in the corner of their bedroom while they had sex. $80,000 per session. At first, I felt sick. Degraded beyond recognition. But after enough times, I went numb. I could even hand Tiffany a glass of water mid-session without blinking. But Sebastian’s expression grew darker each time. Until one day, he couldn’t take it anymore. He knocked the water glass out of my hand and grabbed my face violently. “Elena, do you have no shame?!” I looked into his eyes, calm and detached. It was almost funny. In just six weeks, I’d saved $1.6 million. Only $400,000 left. Then I could pay him back and divorce him. Then I’d be free.

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Five years. Five years of tracking through the Rogues Wastelands, searching for Alpha Kade’s remains. My fated mate’s body had never been found. One day, I discovered an astonishing secret. He was not dead at all! I barged into his mating ceremony. With another female wolf. Not me. Among the wedding guests were friends who had helped me search for his body. They knew he wasn’t dead, but they still pretended to be with me, helping me search for Kade’s body? They stood frozen, faces carved from stone. “Luna, wait—” One of them stepped forward, hands raised. “Kade had to fake his death. Sienna’s situation was… complicated. She needed protection.” Sienna. The pack traitor who leaked patrol routes to Rogues. The same woman our pack had a kill order on. Kade’s childhood friend. Now his mistress. They’d formed a protective wall around her. I didn’t move. My voice came out flat. “So. To protect a traitor, Alpha Kade chose to ‘die’ with her.” Silence crashed through the hall. Kade finally spoke. “Sienna’s been through hell these past years. You should understand. I should protect her!” “Understand?” I repeated. Something almost like a laugh caught in my throat. “Understand that you let me search for five years? That all of you lied to my face? Or understand that—” I paused, let my gaze drift over the ceremony decorations, “—you’re mating her?” Kade’s shoulders locked. Sienna’s eyes welled with tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “In five days I have to leave. This ceremony… it’s my last wish before I go.” I opened my mouth. Didn’t get a word out. “Enough!” Kade’s voice cracked like a whip. “You waited five years! Can’t you wait five more days?” I smiled then. He was right. Five days. Plenty of time to write the story that would destroy them both. And proclaim it to the entire wolf pack. Kade crossed the distance between us in three strides. “Don’t look at me like that. I wanted to tell you. But you talk to too many people—I couldn’t risk someone tracking Sienna down.” I stared at the mating band on his ring finger. It caught the light, sharp and bright. *Too many people.* So he’d known all along. After his “death,” the whispers never stopped. Everyone said it was suspicious— But I’d refused to believe it. I’d seen Kade’s iron discipline myself. In his world, the mission came before everything. When I was pregnant and burning with fever, he got a call halfway to the hospital. Just… left. By the time he returned, we’d lost the baby. I screamed myself hoarse. He just frowned and said, “Emergency orders couldn’t wait. We can have another child.” When his enemies kidnapped me, he was on the Pack Emergency. Hung up on the ransom call. They tortured me for two weeks before dumping me half-dead on a roadside. He came back from the other pack just as I got out of emergency surgery. Held me and promised I’d never be in danger again. After his “death,” his enemies came for me. The accusations piled up. So I became a Rogue. Spent five years in Rogues zones searching for his body, writing article after article to clear his name. And now he said he couldn’t risk Sienna’s location getting out. For her, Kade abandoned a decade of service. Abandoned his principles. Abandoned me. I almost laughed again. “Five days,” he said, stepping closer. “Five days and I’ll get Sienna to safety. Then I’m coming back. This ceremony… it’s just something she needs and wishes. Don’t take it seriously.” He moved too close. I stepped back fast, my hand closing around a champagne flute from the nearby table. Instantly, his friends moved as one, blocking Sienna from view. Kade’s hand clamped around my wris. “What the hell are you doing? Calm down. Don’t hurt her.” Sienna’s voice wobbled. “If… if Elena’s angry, she can throw it at me. I was selfish. I just wanted one ceremony with friends before I left.” His friends’ expressions softened when they looked at her. Hardened when they looked at me. “Sienna saved Kade’s life once. He’s just returning the favor.” “It’s one small wish, Luna. Don’t push this.” “She’s suffered enough. All because she accidentally sent a few wrong messages—they called her a traitor, but Kade still won that fight.” I listened. Didn’t interrupt. Those “few wrong messages” were real-time coordinates for my father and brother’s patrol unit. Dad and my brother died in the ambush Sienna’s leak caused. And their “Kade won anyway”? That victory came two weeks late because of the leak. Two weeks I spent in a warehouse. Eight broken ribs. Shattered kneecap. I drained the champagne in one swallow. Let all those memories burn down my throat. Under their shocked stares, I set down the empty glass. “One last drink. For old times.” I turned to leave.

Kade’s hand locked around my wrist before I took two steps. His jaw clenched hard enough I heard teeth gr? Just a toast? You really ‘accidentally’ walked in here?” Every eye in the room fixed on me like crosshairs. Sienna’s voice shook. “Elena wouldn’t… she’s not going to report me, is she?” Shadows moved. The exits were blocked. Kade held out his hand. “Phone.” I smiled. Handed it over. Our photo from years ago still lit up the lock screen. His fingers hesitated. He checked anyway. Found nothing, obviously. I moved toward the door again. Someone muttered behind me, bitter and low: “Elena’s the one who reported Sienna for treason in the first place, right?” “Sienna saved Kade’s life. Shouldn’t we be more careful here?” “Can’t let her ruin five years of planning just because she’s jealous!” “Sienna’s already suffered so much because of Elena. Been running and hiding for years.” The words hit like stones. I finally understood the other reason Kade kept me in the dark. Not just to protect Sienna. He blamed me too. Hated me for reporting her, even though every word in that report was blood-soaked truth. And I hated back. Spent five years hating Sienna. Now I had one more name on that list. “Still don’t trust me?” I looked at Kade. Under everyone’s gaze, I turned out every pocket I had. Then I unzipped my jacket. Let it drop. Left standing in just a black camisole. My fingers moved to the strap— “Stop!” Kade jerked his face away, voice raw. “Just go.” This time, no one blocked my path. I grabbed my jacket off the floor. Didn’t look back. — At home, I pulled up my phone. The screen no longer showed Kade and me. Now it displayed my father and brother. Five years as a Rogue Tracker taught me more than how to beg for my life when kidnapped. I hadn’t stumbled into that ceremony by accident either. Three days ago, I’d gotten a text. An invitation to a mating ceremony. From Sienna. Who was supposed to be dead. My heart had seized when I saw them at the altar. But there wasn’t time for pain. Other things surged up faster. My father and brother’s graves. The agony of a shattered knee. The kidnapper’s mocking voice: “Guess Kade doesn’t care about you that much after all.” I dragged tonight’s photos and audio recordings into my laptop. The article took shape. One that would detonate across every news network. A key turned in the lock. I slammed the laptop shut. Kade pushed through the door, reeking of alcohol. “You still hate me, don’t you?” He stumbled forward, reaching for my face. I turned my head. His hand caught empty air. He collapsed onto the carpet at my feet, tilted his head back to look up at me. His eyes were red. “Don’t hate me. Sienna saved my life—on the training grounds, someone went crazy in wolf’s form. Can’t control himself and attacked me. She pushed me out of the way and took it. I have to repay that debt.” I stayed silent. Remembered something from years ago. I’d snuck onto the training grounds to see my brother. Kade and my brother had similar builds. I saved Kade. Not Sienna. Kade mistook her for me. The scar near my heart throbbed. “You’re the only one I love,” he said, grabbing my wrist. “She’s leaving soon. We can go back to how things were—” “Kade.” I cut him off. Pulled out the papers I’d prepared. “Sign this.” “What is it? You need money? I’ll sign… whatever you want.” He mumbled, barely glancing at the document before scrawling his name. The second he finished, he passed out. I pulled the divorce papers free. Left the apartment. Dropped them with my wolf lawyer. Then drove to the cemetery. I’d barely left the graves when an SUV screeched to a stop in front of me. Hands dragged me inside. Kade sat beside me, sober now. Face like a storm. “I was too damn trusting.” His voice came out cold, lethal. “You hate Sienna that much? Enough to hire people to kidnap her?” I stared at him.

His hand clamped around my arm hard enough to leave marks. “Don’t play innocent! I woke up and you were gone. Even if you didn’t arrange the kidnapping yourself, you leaked her location!” One of his friend spoke from the front seat: “Sienna’s been in hiding for years. Only a handful of us knew where she was.” “You were the only outsider at the ceremony last night. This morning, she gets grabbed.” Something cold opened up in my chest. Five years. We’d been fight together. Still didn’t trust me. The SUV tore through the streets toward an abandoned factory. They shoved me through the entrance. Sienna was bound to a chair, tear-streaked and covered in dust. The kidnappers saw Kade and laughed. “Fast response time. Guess this one really is your precious girl.” “Last time we grabbed the wrong woman, you didn’t show up for two weeks. This time took you less than thirty minutes.” Kade went rigid. Then he turned to the kidnappers, voice rough: “You got the wrong person again! This is my mate! That one’s nobody! Let her go!” I couldn’t process what I’d heard. The kidnappers looked confused. “You think we’re idiots—” “Look!” Kade grabbed my left hand, yanked it up. “Wedding band! I’m trading my mate for her!” That’s when I saw it. The plain ring on his finger. Matched the one I’d worn for years, pressed so deep into my skin it left a permanent groove. He’d put his back on. To trade me for Sienna. “This is a mating bond!” Kade shouted. “I’ll trade my mate for her!” The kidnappers exchanged glances, wavering. I said, very clearly: “I. Don’t. Consent.” “You don’t get a choice!” Kade grabbed my ring finger and pulled. The band was embedded in flesh. Tearing it free felt like skinning myself alive. Bones cracked. Blood poured between my fingers. He threw the blood-slick ring at the kidnappers’ feet. “Check it! Let her go!” One of them picked it up, examined it. Looked between me and Sienna suspiciously. Sienna sobbed. “Please don’t hurt Elena! I’ll take her place! I’d do anything for Kade and his mate!” Kade’s eyes went desperate, anguished. He looked at me, voice savage: “Elena! They came for you in the first place! Sienna’s innocent!” Came for me. I wanted to laugh until I choked. In his mind, I deserved to be kidnapped. Deserved to be tortured. And Sienna would always be innocent. Before I could speak, pain exploded at the base of my skull. Everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, Kade was backing toward the exit with Sienna. A kidnapper’s mocking voice drifted down: “Willing to throw your own mate back in here for some random girl…” I forced out words through the pain. “Kade and I are divorced. She’s the one he actually cares about.” The kidnapper froze. Shouted at Kade by the door: “Hey! She says you two are divorced! What the hell is going on? You trying to play us?!” Kade stopped. Frowned. His mouth twisted with displeasure. He looked at me. Nothing in his eyes but disappointment and contempt. “Elena. Being scared is one thing. But lying like this?” His voice was ice. “We’ll talk about this later. I’ll come back for you.”

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For seven years, I’d followed Zane Reed like a shadow, tutoring him day and night until he finally scored high enough to qualify for Alpha Academy. The night the results came out, he stood at our gathering and casually announced. “Enroll in Meadowbrook Academy with me, Selena. I need to stay with Sophia.” Alpha Academy, the most prestigious institution, meant only for the strongest Alphas. Its graduates became pack leaders, council members, and commanders. They were the elite who shaped the society’s future. Meadowbrook Academy—a school for ordinary werewolves, nothing special. All these years, I’d given him everything he asked for—obedient, desperate, pathetic. I’d even knelt before him in public, humiliating myself just to see him smile. Everyone called me his lapdog, betting I’d never leave Zane’s side for as long as I lived. Now they waited eagerly to see how I—qualified for Alpha Academy where future elites were forged—would pathetically agree to waste my life at Meadowbrook academy alongside ordinary wolves. But this time, my expression was cold as I looked at him directly. “Fuck you. You’re insane, but I’m not.” The air in the private room seemed to freeze. *Did Selena just… curse at Zane?* *She’s always been so desperate, so servile. What changed?* Zane’s face turned dark as storm clouds. “Say that again,” he growled. Sophia Lane, who’d been draped over his arm, gently tugged his sleeve. *”**It’s okay, Zane. How could I possibly ask you and Miss Ashford—both destined to be future elites to attend Meadowbrook Academy with someone like me?**”* Her eyes slid toward me with barely concealed challenge, though her voice remained sweet. Zane’s expression grew even darker at her words. He turned to me, his voice sharp with command. “Selena, kneel and apologize. Now.” Before, I would have dropped to my knees without hesitation. Because any resistance meant the curse’s punishment—sharp thorns wrapping around my heart, squeezing tighter and tighter until I couldn’t breathe. The witch’s revenge, suffocating me into obedience. I waited. Two seconds. Three seconds. Nothing. No thorns. No crushing pain around my chest. The curse had lifted!!! I glanced at my phone quickly. 12:01 AM. Zane had turned eighteen just one minute ago—the exact moment the results were released. After seven years of servitude, the witch’s curse was finally broken. My wolf-Lola stirred, no longer cowering but growling with fierce approval. We were free!!! The realization made my mood soar. I stepped back, putting distance between us, my tone lazy and unbothered. “No. Why should I kneel for you?” The more pathetic I’d been before, the harder I pushed back now. Zane’s face flushed with rage. “Fine. Fine. Selena Ashford,” he bit out. “From today on, I’m not coming back to Ashford Family. Don’t expect to see me again!” I nearly laughed. I’d be thrilled if he never came back. He clearly thought he had me cornered, waiting for me to break down and beg. Instead, I was mentally planning my vacation. Maldives? Or maybe skiing in Switzerland? When I didn’t immediately kneel and beg him, Zane looked ready to explode. Sophia laughed softly and wrapped her arm around his. “Zane, don’t fight with Selena over me. Not going home isn’t good for you.” She paused, her voice turning wistful. “Though I’ve never lived in such a big manor before. I really envy Selena.” Her words were like a spark to kindling, instantly igniting the crowd around us. “Yeah, Zane, we’ve never seen it either!” “Let us check it out!” Surrounded by eager voices, Zane’s vanity swelled visibly. He waved his hand grandly. “Why not? Come on, I’ll take you all to my manor! Stay as long as you want this summer!” My eyes narrowed. “Excuse me? Zane, that’s my home. I don’t give you permission!” He shoved me roughly to the side. My shoulder slammed into the doorframe, pain shooting through it. “I say it’s fine, so it’s fine! Don’t push your luck, Selena!” Seven years of my bottomless indulgence, combined with my father treating him like a potential son-in-law because I supposedly loved him, had made Zane forget a crucial fact. He was just an adopted orphan. He’d long since come to believe that everything the Ashfords owned—including me—rightfully belonged to him.

By the time I reached my home, chaos had already taken over. My father’s prized vinyl records were being tossed around like frisbees. Several girls posed with my limited-edition handbags, taking selfies. Fury shot straight to my head. I pulled out my phone to call the police, but just as I hit confirm, someone slapped it from my hand. It crashed to the floor with a sickening crack. Sophia stood before me, her expression perfectly innocent and wounded. “Selena, I know you look down on me—that you think ordinary wolves like us don’t deserve to enter your home.” Her voice trembled. “But how can you call the police on us just for visiting Zane’s house? What did we do wrong?” Her words instantly ignited everyone’s anger. “It’s just a visit! Is calling the police really necessary?” “Pretending to be kind but what a vicious heart!” Zane raised his hand and struck me hard across the face. Twice！ “You really think you’re something special, don’t you, Selena!” My cheek burned. I tasted blood in my mouth. Sophia covered her mouth, her eyes glistening with fake sympathy. “This is all my fault. If it weren’t for me, everyone wouldn’t have made Selena unhappy.” She sighed dramatically. “Rich wolves like Selena naturally look down on ordinary wolves like us. It’s normal.” Again. Her tried-and-true class warfare routine. Sure enough, her words changed everyone’s expressions. “Damn it, I hate people who think money makes them better than everyone else!” “Stop talking to her! Let’s teach her a lesson!” Two men immediately grabbed my arms, roughly forcing me to the ground. Zane picked up a bottle of red wine, his eyes glinting with cruelty and satisfaction as he approached. “Selena, I think you’re not thinking clearly today. Let me help you clear your head.” Dark red liquid poured over me from above, soaking my clothes and hair in sticky humiliation. The wine blocked my vision while their laughter and jeering filled my ears. “Come on, let’s see if she’s still so arrogant now!” They laughed, taking photos and videos, immortalizing this moment as my permanent shame. Anger and frustration boiled inside me. The curse had just been lifted, leaving me weakened and unable to resist. “Hey, what are you doing? Let go of Selena!” Sophia called out halfheartedly, making no move to actually stop anyone. She walked to Zane’s side, linking her arm through his, her voice sweet. “Zane, that’s enough. I’m sure Selena knows she was wrong now.” She turned to me, her eyes full of a victor’s gaze. “Selena, just apologize to Zane and this will all be over. We’re all friends—no need to make things too ugly.” My eyes fixed on the pendant around her neck. “Sophia, take that off. Now!” “That was my grandmother’s! You have no right to wear it!” My grandmother had left it to me before she died, calling it a family heimloom I should guard carefully. Every night before bed, I’d take it out and look at it, as if Grandmother was still beside me. Sophia blinked innocently, touching the necklace with one hand, her voice carrying a hint of grievance. “This necklace… Zane gave it to me. He said it looked beautiful on me.” A flash of guilt crossed Zane’s face before his expression hardened again. He ran his hand through his hair irritably. “It’s just a necklace. Do you have to make such a big deal out of it?” “Selena, can you stop being so unreasonable for once!” “Your grandmother’s been dead for years. Who I give it to is my business!” His words drove into my heart like knives. I couldn’t control my emotions anymore. I wrenched free from the two holding me and staggered to my feet. “Zane Reed! Do you have any conscience at all!” “That’s my grandmother’s keepsake!” “How dare you give it to someone else!” “After my family sheltered you for seven years, at least give it back!” Zane’s face twisted into something monstrous. CRACK— A sharp slap sent my head snapping to the side, ears ringing. Zane hated when anyone mentioned his past as an Orphan. It shattered what little self-esteem he possessed. “Who told you to bring that up!” “You really do look down on me, don’t you!” “Selena Ashford, you’ve always thought of me as your family’s dog!”

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My wife’s golden boy’s sterility report got leaked on the university’s anonymous confession page. To protect his dignity, my wife teamed up with a doctor to forge evidence that I was the one sleeping around and became sterile. She made everyone think that report was mine. People assumed I was living some depraved double life, betraying the professor they all respected. They flooded the forum with hate, demanding I leave the school. I confronted her, desperate. Why would she do this? She just rubbed her temples, looking bored. “Julian is just a kid. He can’t handle the rumors. You’re a grown man, Ethan. Why are you competing with him?” I stared at her in disbelief. All those sweet nothings, all those late-night promises. Now they were just knives, twisting in my chest. I smiled bitterly. I decided to let myself off the hook. — When I told her I wanted a divorce, my wife didn’t even look up from proofreading Julian’s thesis. “What are you throwing a fit about now? Is this because I gave your lab data to Julian?” I didn’t answer. Claire shifted into a more comfortable position. “Or is it because I told everyone that sterility report on the confession page was yours?” She sighed, like she was disappointed in me. “Ethan, you’re already married. Some trashy rumor won’t hurt you. But Julian’s different. He’s still a student. The gossip could destroy him. Don’t be childish.” “How is he supposed to live with himself? You want him to lose all his dignity?!” My fingers were cold. I forced myself to stay calm. “Just sign the papers.” The door to the Dean’s office swung open. Julian walked in with a bright smile that instantly turned nervous when he saw me. “Oh, Professor. I didn’t know you’d be here. I came to ask Claire a few questions.” I laughed coldly. I’d clearly seen him holding two movie tickets when he walked in. “No problem. Your precious Claire just needs to sign one thing, then I’ll be out of your way. Otherwise, I’m stuck here.” Claire’s face darkened. But she glanced at Julian’s expectant expression, then gritted her teeth and signed the divorce papers. “You’d better not regret this.” Walking out of the Dean’s office, I couldn’t help but laugh. Thirty years as childhood sweethearts. Seven years of marriage. Finally over. I called the number I’d had pinned at the top of my contacts. The voice on the other end was clear and bright, just like always. “You’re really coming? Ha! You finally came to your senses.” “I still need to wait thirty days for the divorce to be finalized.” “No problem. As long as you’re willing to come, we’ll always welcome you!” Just thinking about thirty days until total freedom, I couldn’t stop smiling.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d smiled like this. It felt like it had been so long since anyone cared about me. I’d been depressed for too long. I made myself an elaborate dinner that night. Poured a glass of wine. Celebrated my new beginning. My phone buzzed with a message. “I’m coming home tonight. Have my bath ready.” Claire loved her aromatherapy soaks. I’d gotten the bath blend custom-made by a holistic practitioner I knew. Calming, soothing. She always slept like a baby after. She just hadn’t come home to sleep in a very long time. Before I could block her, another message came through. “Something came up. Lab work. I’ll come home in a few days.” I laughed coldly as I deleted and blocked her number. Lab work, my ass. Same old excuse. Sure enough, the latest post on social media was from Julian—a candlelit dinner at a five-star hotel. Caption: “Not just dinner together. Breakfast too.” Before bed, I got a message from an unknown number. “Still sulking? Fine. Next month on our anniversary, I’ll spend it with you.” I stared at the message, stunned. Then it hit me. Claire and I hadn’t celebrated our anniversary in years. What the hell was this supposed to mean? She was cheating on me, sleeping with her student, and she expected me to be grateful? I blocked every new number she used to contact me. Slept like a rock. I swear my years of depression just evaporated overnight. The next day, Claire looked like she had dark circles under her eyes. The moment Claire saw me, she looked irritated. “Ethan, why did you block me? You’re not answering my messages.” I looked at her, amused. “Professor Davis, our research project ended a while ago. You removed my name from the authorship and replaced it with Julian’s. We won’t be collaborating again. I don’t see why I can’t block you.” Claire sighed, putting on that signature look of disappointment. “It’s just a byline, Ethan. You’re a senior professor. You already have academic standing. What’s wrong with letting a young person take credit?” I stared at her, speechless. She acted like it was no big deal. Why didn’t she give her own byline to Julian, then? But I’d already lost interest in arguing with her. “That’s academic misconduct. I’m being generous by not reporting you. Professionally, we have no reason to stay in touch. Personally, we’re divorced. Either way, I don’t need your contact info. Please stop harassing me.” Claire hadn’t expected me to talk to her like that. She was silent for a few seconds. Then she smiled. “Ethan, you’ve gotten clever. Playing hard to get now, huh?” I rolled my eyes and turned to leave. But Claire grabbed my arm.

“Next month, our anniversary. I’ll take you to that diner you love. You always liked their burgers, right?” “Can I get extra cheese?” I asked deliberately. She frowned. “Extra cheese? You didn’t used to be so high-maintenance.” I thought about the photo Julian had posted last night—dinner at a five-star hotel, probably cost over ten grand. She could drop that kind of money on him without blinking. But for our once-in-several-years anniversary, she’d take me to some greasy spoon where a meal cost less than five bucks. She wouldn’t even spring for extra cheese. I smiled bitterly. Didn’t say another word. That night, I went home and told my parents I was getting divorced. My father’s brow furrowed. He spoke coolly. “Claire Davis is nothing. If you hadn’t insisted I introduce her to people in the academic circle, you think she’d be where she is now?” My mother’s eyes turned red. “Sweetheart, if you’re unhappy, we’ll get her removed from her position.” I shook my head. “Forget it. Let’s just part ways peacefully.” I made my parents a pot of coffee. The scent of the coffee calmed my nerves a little. The next day in class, I was at the front of the lecture hall analyzing a case study. Whispers broke out among the students. College students were always distracted. I didn’t think much of it and kept teaching. Suddenly, someone shouted. “Professor Reid, is it true you and Professor Davis are getting divorced?” “Did Professor Davis leave you because you’re sterile? Can’t satisfy her anymore?” “You’ve been married seven years and still no kids. Is it because you sleep around too much and got some kind of disease? Is that a medical condition?” I forced myself to stay calm. Managed a smile. “We’re parting on good terms.” “He’s lying!” Julian stood up, looking smug. “Professor Davis already told me. Professor Reid was unfaithful. Lost his ability to have kids. That’s why she’s divorcing him.” I couldn’t believe he had the audacity to provoke me like this. I’d had enough. “You have the nerve to say that? That sterility report was clearly—” SLAP. The entire classroom went silent. My face snapped to the side. Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth. I looked up at the person who’d hit me. Claire. I hadn’t even noticed her come in. She looked at me pleadingly. “Ethan, if you make a mistake, you admit it. That’s what a teacher does!” Before I could respond, she dismissed the entire class. Once we were alone, she looked at me with fake concern and reached for my swollen cheek. I jerked away from her hand, ice-cold. She spoke quickly. “Ethan, you know I’m up for tenure review. I can’t have any scandals. If people find out you’re the one who asked for the divorce, I won’t be able to explain.” “The whole sterility thing happened so long ago. Why bring it up again? You can’t be that cruel, ruining Julian’s life.” I was shaking. “What about me? My reputation and dignity don’t matter?”

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I didn’t understand what Noah meant by “together forever” until Chloe got her HIV diagnosis. In my past life, Chloe collapsed from anemia during the State Championship game. Her childhood best friend Noah insisted on giving her an emergency field transfusion. I fought like hell to stop him. Told her Noah had HIV. That if he transfused his blood, she’d get infected too. She didn’t believe me. Noah cried and said he’d never even hooked up with anyone. How could he possibly have it? He climbed onto the stadium roof and threatened to jump to prove his innocence. Then he slipped. Fell eighteen stories to his death. To avenge him, Chloe and our classmates kidnapped me. She strangled me with her own hands. Her final words still echo: “You LIED about Noah! You killed him! Now you’ll pay with your LIFE!” When I opened my eyes again, I was back. The day of the transfusion. I watched Chloe receiving Noah’s contaminated blood. And I smiled. HIV? No big deal. — “Ethan, I know you hate me. But this is life or death. Stop blocking me from saving Chloe!” Noah’s words hit me like lightning. I’d been reborn. I looked up and met Chloe’s furious glare. Anemia made her face ghostly pale. “Ethan, fine. You’re too selfish to give me blood. But don’t you DARE stop Noah from saving me!” “How was I ever stupid enough to date a selfish asshole like you?!” Her insults cut deep and made my heart go cold. In my previous life, Chloe collapsed during the State Championship. The blood bank’s emergency supply would take hours to arrive. To avoid missing her event, Noah offered to give her a field transfusion. I fought desperately to stop him. Because I’d overheard Noah talking to some sketchy guys in an alley weeks before. “I have HIV. If I can infect Chloe, she’ll be mine FOREVER!” I tried to stop the transfusion and told Chloe that Noah’s blood was contaminated with HIV. She didn’t believe me and accused me of making it up. Noah burst into tears and said I was slandering him. He climbed onto the roof to “prove his innocence” by jumping. Pretended to leap, then “accidentally” slipped. Fell from the eighteenth floor. Later, the autopsy confirmed it. His blood tested positive with a high viral load. I thought it was over. But at my birthday party, Chloe and our classmates kidnapped me. I still remember what she said while strangling me: “You LIED about Noah! Your slander killed him! Now DIE for him!” Snapping back to reality, I heard my classmates’ insults continuing. “Ethan, how can someone be as disgusting as you? Chloe’s anemia is severe. You won’t donate. Fine. But blocking Noah? Seriously?” “Yeah, Noah’s hot and kind. What gives you the right to compete with him?” “Ethan’s just jealous that everyone likes Noah. That’s why he’s blocking this.” This time, I took a deep breath and calmed myself. Then I stepped aside from the transfusion setup and smiled. “Go ahead. Give her blood. 400cc not enough? Take 600cc. Whatever you need for Chloe.” Let them taste the poison they planted themselves.

Noah held the syringe and frowned as he pushed the needle into his vein. Everyone praised him and called him selfless and noble. Chloe’s eyes filled with adoration. Only I noticed the tiny marks on his pale wrist. Scabbed-over needle tracks. Evidence of long-term unsafe injections and proof he carried the virus. After half a blood bag, Noah started swaying and looking dizzy. Chloe immediately pulled the needle from his arm and held him carefully. Noah insisted on standing with his voice full of false righteousness. “Don’t stop me. I HAVE to finish donating.” Then he swayed again. I watched his pathetic performance and knew exactly what he was planning. Sure enough, a male student spoke up. “We can’t let Noah do this alone! Chloe needs more blood anyway!” “Let’s ALL donate! ” The suggestion met instant approval. “Right! Use the SAME needle! We’re not selfish like SOME people!” “Yeah! If Noah’s not scared, why should we be? This is our Loyalty Blood Pact!” I listened to their passionate speeches and wanted to laugh. Good classmates. Sharing everything, including HIV-contaminated needles. This lifetime, they’d finally achieve their dream of “living and dying together.” The team medic walked in and saw students about to jab a used needle into their veins. She rushed forward to stop them. “Are you INSANE?! Stop! Multiple people using one needle? What about cross-contamination?!” The students didn’t even flinch. “What’s YOUR problem? You cursing us or something?” “We’re all clean. How could we get infected?” “Mind your own business! If Chloe misses the championship because of delayed transfusion, can YOU take responsibility?” “You’re probably working with Ethan! Trying to sabotage Chloe’s competition!” Their mockery made the medic’s face go red. She stomped her foot with wet eyes and ran out of the room. After she left, they continued. One. Two. Three… I stood outside the crowd and watched that lethal needle pierce skin after skin. Each puncture meant certain infection. The blood bag filled quickly. Then Noah brought the needle to me. “Ethan. Your turn.”

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Two years overseas, and I flew back to San Francisco for the product launch. The moment I stepped on stage, a seven-year-old boy threw a bucket of dirty mop water all over my Tom Ford suit. “Get off the stage! My dad designed this!” “Mommy, this bad man is trying to steal Daddy’s credit. Did I do good?” I froze, trying to figure out whose brat this was. Then my wife Chloe scooped the boy into her arms, her face glowing with affection I’d never seen before. “Mason, you’re amazing. That’s exactly how we deal with thieves.” She turned to face me, her eyes ice-cold. “Liam, Blake handled all the company business while you were gone. The credit belongs to him.” I laughed. Right there, in front of five hundred investors and tech journalists, I announced my resignation. Let’s see how they develop products without my family’s investment firm backing them. … “Blake carried this company for two years while this guy lived it up overseas.” “Now the product’s ready and he flies back to take credit? Shameless!” “The kid did the right thing. Pour it on him!” “Disgusting.” I looked up at Chloe, waiting. Waiting for her eyes to meet mine, for even a flicker of hesitation, a word of defense. But Chloe acted like she didn’t hear the vicious accusations. She kept adjusting Mason’s collar, tender and gentle. Since when did she like kids? Five years of marriage. Every time I mentioned having children, she’d wrinkle her nose and say her career came first. Kids were loud, messy, inconvenient. I respected that. Never pushed. I thought she genuinely didn’t want them. I’d even prepared myself for a childfree life. But now, watching her hold another man’s son—the movements so natural, so practiced— Two years. I’d been gone two whole years. To secure overseas channels and lock down critical partnerships, I’d drunk myself into the hospital three times with a bleeding ulcer. To beat our competitors to market, I’d flown to twenty-six countries, answering emails at 35,000 feet like it was normal. Once, I worked for thirty straight hours on connecting flights. When I landed, my vision went black. My assistant had to carry me to the ER for IV fluids. Mason tilted his cherubic face up at Chloe, his voice saccharine: “Mommy, why is the bad man still here? He smells gross!” He pointed at my soaked suit with theatrical disgust. Chloe’s smile deepened. She pulled out a tissue and wiped a water droplet from Mason’s cheek, then kissed him loudly on his soft little face. “Baby, ignore him. Let’s listen to Daddy talk.” She carried the boy over to Blake, who’d just walked onto the stage. Blake slid his arm around Chloe’s shoulders. His other hand ruffled Mason’s hair affectionately. “Everyone, please—let me say something!” He sighed, perfectly calibrated. “This project represents everyone’s blood, sweat, and tears. Seeing our work questioned, of course emotions run high.” “Mr. Sterling was once part of the team. Though he spent the last two years abroad, he may not fully understand the depth of everyone’s contributions.” “I get it. He was involved in the early stages, after all.” “Mason’s young and doesn’t know better. I hope Mr. Sterling won’t take it personally.” He paused, gazing at Chloe with practiced devotion. “And thank you, Chloe, for believing in me. For walking this road with me to the end.” A perfect family. Pressed together on stage in front of everyone. Blake’s words sounded supportive, but every sentence accused me of stealing credit. The crowd erupted in admiration. “Blake’s living the dream—success at work AND at home!” “Chloe and Blake are perfect together. And their son is so smart!” “That’s what a real family looks like. Through thick and thin!” Someone in the back yelled: “Get that thief out of here! Don’t let him ruin our launch!” A wave of agreement. Voices demanding I leave. Through the “Get out!” chants, I looked at Chloe one last time. She leaned into Blake’s side, didn’t even glance my way. My heart turned to ice. The anger evaporated. I pulled out my phone and submitted my resignation through the company app. I was done with this place. Watching the employees who used to kiss my ass now turn on me like rabid dogs—it was almost funny. The things people will do. I drove home, needing silence. In the living room, our wedding portrait was gone from the wall. In its place: a massive “family photo.” Blake holding Mason. Chloe leaning on Blake’s shoulder. All three of them smiling like they’d won the lottery. I pushed open the master bedroom door. My things were gone. Blake’s suits hung in the closet. Children’s books and Chloe’s skincare products covered the desk. On the nightstand, our wedding photo had been replaced by a picture of Chloe and Mason. My clothes, my photos—everything shoved into the storage closet. While I was overseas killing myself to provide, my home had become someone else’s home. I sat on the couch and smoked. One cigarette after another, until the ashtray overflowed. Chloe finally came home.

I checked my watch. 2:00 AM. “You’re… back?” Her voice softened. “The launch ran late. Have you eaten? I’ll make you some pasta.” I didn’t respond. Just stared at her coldly. She avoided my eyes, glancing at the family portrait on the wall, then at the wedding photo I’d pulled from storage. Awkward. She stepped closer, reaching for my hand. I jerked away. “Honey…” She lowered herself, trying appeasement. “Mason’s little. He doesn’t understand. Don’t blame him. And Blake… he’s been under so much pressure.” “Pressure?” Was my life easy? “He’s raising Mason alone while running the company… Blake’s applying for that international design certification. I wanted to help where I could.” “And Mason’s such a sweet kid. I made him my godson. It’s not what you think…” She paused, reading my face. Her voice went soft, coaxing. “I know you’re upset. People said awful things today. Blake’s presentation wasn’t great. But he never meant to steal your credit.” She moved closer again, her tone saccharine like she was soothing a child. “Don’t be mad, honey. Once Blake gets his certification and the launch buzz dies down, I’ll find a chance to explain everything to the team.” Watching her grovel, hearing her honeyed explanations—I had to admit, part of me wanted to believe her. Then I remembered the family portrait. My belongings erased from our home. That urge died instantly. “Explain?” My voice came out hoarse. “Explain how I became a stranger in my own house?” Chloe’s face went white. She opened her mouth to defend herself. “It’s not—” “Enough!” I cut her off. Suddenly, Chloe gasped and bent over, clutching her stomach. The color drained from her face. Her brow furrowed in pain. Blood bloomed across the couch cushion. “Ah… it hurts…” Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. Her body trembled. It looked real. My heart clenched despite everything. All my anger evaporated in the face of her sudden agony. “My stomach… hurts so much…” She leaned against me, voice weak and breaking. “I think… it’s my period…” Furious and panicked, I half-carried her toward the door. “Can you walk? I’m taking you to the hospital!” “Yeah…” She nodded weakly, practically hanging off me. I floored it the entire way. Every time I glanced over, she was curled in the passenger seat, eyes closed, hand pressed to her stomach. Blood soaking through her clothes. My chest knotted up. At the hospital, they wouldn’t let me into the gynecology exam room. I waited outside. An hour later, my wife emerged. She looked slightly better. I handed her a cup of hot water. “Rest. Tell me if you need anything.” She nodded, taking the cup. Her eyes darted away. Her phone rang. She checked the screen. Her expression shifted. “Honey, there’s an emergency at the office. I have to go handle it right now.” I frowned. What emergency happens at 3 AM? But looking at her face, I sighed. “I’ll drive you.” I dropped her at the office tower and watched her hurry inside before driving home. Back at the house, I parked and sat in the car, exhausted, rubbing my temples. Something caught my eye under the passenger seat. A medical report. I picked it up, frowning. It listed vaginal bleeding. When I saw the cause—”condom retained internally”—my brain went blank. Like I’d been struck by lightning. I sat there, the air suffocating. I’d been gone two years. Whose condom was it? I couldn’t process it. Couldn’t understand how my loving wife had become this. I drove back to the office. The top floor—the CEO’s office—had its lights on. Through the privacy glass, I could see two silhouettes. Couldn’t make out details. Thankfully, my fingerprint still worked on the elevator. I went up. Before I even reached the CEO’s office, I heard the sounds. Rhythmic. Unmistakable. Through the office glass, I saw Chloe half-lying across the wide desk. Blake leaned over her, both of them disheveled. Chloe’s breathy moans mixed with Blake’s heavy panting, echoing in the office. “Ah… Blake… not so hard… it hurts…” Chloe’s voice. “Mmm… Mason’s still home waiting… ah!” “Let him wait!” Blake’s breathing was ragged. “That little brat’s asleep by now! You should be worried about Liam!” “Ugh… don’t… don’t mention him…” Chloe’s voice grew more urgent. “That useless piece of shit… gone for two years and comes back causing problems. What the hell is he anyway…” Blake let out a contemptuous laugh. “Soon the money’s mine. The company’s ours. Even his wife… is mine now!” “Stop…” Chloe giggled coquettishly. The obscene words and flesh-on-flesh sounds kept assaulting my ears. This was the woman who almost made me soften. Straight from the hospital to her lover’s bed. Chloe. You couldn’t even wait. The last shred of feeling I had for her died.

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My wife biased with her lover and stole my work achievements, so I showed up at the celebration party with two gifts: a divorce agreement and a lawyer’s letter. Seven years. Seven years I spent developing this software from scratch, starting back in college. And just as I’m about to launch it, I get an anonymous email. That’s when I learn my program has already hit the market—with Liam’s name listed as the lead developer. Liam. My wife’s college sweetheart. Her golden boy. I confront Claire, my wife, the CEO of the tech company we built together. I show her the launch certificate, demand an explanation. She barely glances up from her phone. “Liam needs this for his grad school application overseas. It’ll look good on his portfolio.” “Besides, it’s all company IP anyway. Does it really matter whose name is on it?” I lose it. I demand she change the credit back to my name immediately. Her response? She suspends me on the spot. Tells me to cover the night shift at the security desk. That night, Liam posts on Instagram. The photo shows a woman asleep, her back to the camera. I recognize the mole on her shoulder blade instantly. Claire. The caption reads, “Still tosses and turns in her sleep. Just like the old days.” I like the post. I comment: “Congrats, you two. Hope you’re locked in forever. Maybe start working on that baby.” Later, Claire throws Liam a launch party for “his” software. I show up with two gifts: divorce papers and a lawyer’s letter. Then I walk out and slide into the Bentley waiting for me—sent by the rival company that’s been courting me for months. When they launch my real software internationally, Claire loses her goddamn mind. — I turn off my phone after posting that comment, staring at our wedding photo on the wall. The bitterness is almost funny. I lie down on the couch and pass out from exhaustion. 2 AM. Claire’s call jolts me awake. “Ethan, are you out of your fucking mind? I fell asleep at Liam’s place discussing work specs!” “Delete that comment right now. What will people think?” She’s bold enough to sleep over at another man’s house, but she’s worried about optics? My phone buzzes. It’s a check-in reminder for tomorrow morning’s flight to Hawaii. Oh, right. We were supposed to go on that trip. The one we’d planned to celebrate the software launch—the honeymoon we never had. Well, I already paid for it. And I haven’t taken a vacation in years. Might as well go alone. Clear my head. On the drive to the airport, my phone won’t stop vibrating. At a red light, I glance at it. The company Slack is exploding. Liam posted a three-minute video—red-rimmed eyes, voice breaking: “Ethan, I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding… Claire only fell asleep at my place because we were finalizing launch details late into the night… Nothing happened, I swear…” He’s wiping away tears like a kicked puppy. Then Claire chimes in on the thread: “@Ethan, happy now? You had to make a scene in front of the whole company. Liam apologized. What more do you want?” The sycophants immediately fall in line. “Ethan really crossed a line this time. Liam’s such a good guy.” “Seriously. Claire and Liam work their asses off for this company, and some people just nitpick everything.” “People with dirty minds see dirt everywhere.” I laugh—cold and sharp—and leave the group chat. Funny how these same people used to kiss my ass when I was indispensable. Now that Liam’s the golden boy, they’re all on their knees for him. I barely exit the Slack channel when my phone rings again. It’s Sarah from the tech team. She’s the only junior engineer I personally trained. The only one who hasn’t thrown me under the bus. I hesitate, then answer. “Ethan…” Her voice is strained. “Claire wants me to tell you… you need to come back to the office immediately. Liam’s keynote speech for the launch event needs your edits.” My hands tighten on the steering wheel. “She wants me to write Liam’s speech?”

I can’t believe they have the audacity. They steal my work, and now they want me to write the speech celebrating it. “Yeah…” Sarah stammers. “Claire said you’re the only one who really understands the system’s architecture… and if you don’t come back, she’s marking you as absent without leave. She’ll freeze your building access and your bank card.” “Why can’t they write it themselves?” I ask, my voice icy. Sarah hesitates. “Claire… Claire took Liam on a business trip to meet potential partners. They’ll be gone for three days.” I slam on the brakes. The car stops smoothly at the red light. “So the company doesn’t have a single person capable of writing a technical keynote, and I’m the only option?” Sarah sighs. “Ethan, do what you think is right. I’m putting in my resignation the second I hang up. Claire said if I don’t get you back, she’s firing me. But honestly? I’m done. The people in this company are disgusting. They’ve been targeting me ever since I didn’t join the group chat pile-on against you… Thanks for everything you taught me. See you around.” Sarah hangs up. My hands are shaking on the wheel. Impressive. Really impressive. Claire. Liam. What a power couple. Clear out everyone loyal to me, and suddenly there’s no dissent left in the company. I land in Hawaii and check into a boutique resort hotel. I booked it months ago, back when I thought Claire and I would finally take that trip we never had time for during the software grind. “Excuse me, sir,” the front desk clerk says politely, scanning my ID. “When will your wife be arriving? I’ll make a note for check-in.” I freeze. My throat tightens. “It’s just me.” The clerk glances up, confused. “You booked the couple’s suite—” She catches the look on my face and stops mid-sentence. “Right. Of course, sir. Let me get you checked in right away.” I swipe my keycard and step inside. Rose petals scattered across the king-size bed. Two towel swans twisted together in an embrace at the center. The weather outside is perfect. But for some reason, I have zero desire to go out. Next door, I hear the faint click of a lock. Then the sharp staccato of heels on tile. I frown. The walls here are thinner than I thought. “This trip was worth it, wasn’t it, Claire?” a male voice says. “We avoid prying eyes at the office, and we get to… relax properly.” I freeze. That voice. I’d recognize it anywhere. So their “business trip” was just a vacation to Hawaii. To screw around.

Liam murmurs something I can’t quite make out. “Oh, stop,” Claire’s voice drifts through, lazy and indulgent. Not stern. More like… permissive. “Am I wrong?” Liam’s tone sharpens, smug and triumphant. “Seven years of his life’s work, and it’s nothing but a stepping stone for me now. You’ve been so good to me, Claire. Come here—give me a kiss.” Rustling fabric. Then Claire’s breathy moan. And then sounds I really, really don’t want to hear. Something metallic and sour surges up my throat. I grab the phone and call the front desk. They pick up instantly. “Front desk, how can I assist you?” The noise next door continues. I take a deep breath. “Hi, this is the guest in Room 1808. The noise from Room 1807 is excessive. It’s disturbing my rest. Please send someone to handle it.” The clerk apologizes profusely and promises to send staff immediately. The wait feels endless. The obscene sounds keep bleeding through the wall, intermittent but persistent. Finally, I hear footsteps in the hallway. A polite knock. “Excuse me, guests in 1807. We’ve received a noise complaint. Your room is disturbing other guests. Could you please keep it down?” The noise stops abruptly. A few seconds of dead silence. Then the door is yanked open. “A complaint? Who complained? What kind of petty bullshit is this? We’re a couple in our own room—who are we bothering?” “Ma’am, please understand. This is a reasonable request from another guest, and it’s hotel policy to ensure all guests can rest comfortably—” The staff member is doing their best to stay professional, but clearly struggling. Then someone knocks on my door. I take a deep breath and yank it open. Standing there—hair tousled, wearing a silk robe—is Claire. Her expression of righteous fury freezes the instant she sees me. “Ethan… what are you doing here?”

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I am the most feared litigator on the East Coast. The day I walked into my own firm to celebrate closing a quarter-billion-dollar merger, my husband’s charity case fired me. Her reason? I was wearing black, like a mourning dress. “Bad luck,” she said, blowing smoke in my face. I thought she didn’t know who I was. I smiled and asked, “Who the hell do you think you are?” She didn’t flinch. Just flicked ash onto the marble floor of Bennett & Associates and said, “The boss gave me permission.” I pulled out my phone and texted Eleanor Sterling—CEO of Sterling Holdings, Fortune 10 tech giant, and the most powerful woman in America. Also known as: Mom. [Victoria Sterling: I’ve been terminated. I can’t represent you anymore.] — I opened WhatsApp and typed a message to my husband, Liam Bennett. [Get to the office. Now. Sophie Miller just fired me.] Sophie saw me typing and laughed—actually laughed—then lit another cigarette. I watched her, already writing her obituary in my head. Liam had a zero-tolerance policy for smoking in the office. He was obsessive about it. No exceptions. But no one stopped her. In fact, three associates practically tripped over themselves to offer her a light. I frowned. Had I been gone that long? Had Liam really let things slide this much? No. That wasn’t possible. I knew Liam. He was rigid. Principled. Anal-retentive to a fault. Sophie caught my expression and smirked. She took a long, deliberate drag and blew the smoke directly into my face. “What’s the matter? Surprised?” Her voice dripped with false sympathy. “Rules are meant to be flexible. Liam knows how hard I work. He made an exception for me. You got a problem with that?” She glanced around the room. The associates who’d been lighting her cigarette immediately chimed in. “Yeah! Sophie’s the backbone of this firm. She can smoke if she wants.” “Some people have no talent and still think they can throw their weight around.” I realized, standing there in my Dior suit, that I didn’t recognize this place anymore. The firm I’d built from nothing had rotted from the inside out. I locked eyes with Sophie and said, slowly, “Let me make something very clear. I am Liam Bennett’s wife. I am a founding partner of this firm.” Sophie tapped ash onto the floor. “Wife?” She laughed. “So what? You’re a trophy. A pretty face who married well. You think that gives you the right to talk down to me?” She straightened up, chest puffed out like a peacock. “I’m a Yale Law graduate. Liam personally sponsored my education. He paid a million dollars to bring me back here as Head of Litigation. I’m the future of this firm.” She stepped closer. “You? You’re just some ambulance chaser who got lucky a few times. You think you can compete with me?” Then she smiled. “Tell you what. I’ll let you stay. But first, take off that black dress. It’s bad luck. Do it now, or you’re done.” The room fell silent. Then someone started clapping. “Damn, Sophie’s a savage!” “Make her change! Make her change!” “Who does she think she is, wearing black to Sophie’s event? So disrespectful.” “And she has the nerve to say she brings in eighty percent of the firm’s revenue? What, we all just sit around doing nothing?” The jeering got louder. I took a deep breath. My hands curled into fists. I wanted to flip a table. I wanted to scream. Instead, I said, calm as ice: “Eighty percent of this firm’s income comes from my cases. That’s a fact. Without me, Bennett & Associates would’ve folded years ago. There wouldn’t be a million-dollar salary for you to collect.” One of my former associates—a kid I’d mentored—stepped between me and Sophie. For a second, I felt relief. Finally. Someone who remembered. Then he turned to face me. “Victoria, stop embarrassing yourself. You’re a kept woman. You live off Liam’s money. You have no right to question Sophie.” He jabbed a finger at me. “Sophie told you to change your dress. That’s a gift. Don’t be ungrateful.” “Yeah! Change it!” “Do it now!” The office door slammed open.

The sound of dress shoes echoed across the marble. I exhaled. Liam was here. Finally. He’d fix this. He had to. I turned to him, relief flooding through me. “Liam, Sophie just—” CRACK. The slap came so fast I didn’t see it. My head snapped to the side. Pain exploded across my cheek, white-hot and sharp. My ears rang. I stood there, hand pressed to my face, staring at him in disbelief. Liam’s face was twisted with rage. “Victoria Sterling, you’ve disappointed me.” His voice shook. “Who the hell do you think you are? You think you can disrespect me like this?” He stepped closer, his voice rising. “Sophie is the Head of Litigation. I personally recruited her. I spent five years and a million dollars getting her through Yale Law. She is the future of this firm. And you—you—have the audacity to insult her?” He looked at me like I was garbage. “It’s a dress, Victoria. Sophie doesn’t like black. Apologize to her. Tell her you’ll never wear it again. That’s it. That’s all you have to do.” I blinked. My vision blurred. “Yale Law?” I said quietly. I looked at Sophie. Something clicked. I knew her. Not as a Yale grad. As a high school dropout who got arrested for shoplifting and assault when she was seventeen. When the hell did she become my alma mater sister? Liam turned to Sophie—who was still smoking, by the way—and his tone went soft. Gentle. Almost loving. “Why aren’t you smoking the ones I bought you? Those cheap ones are bad for your lungs.” He smiled at her. Actually smiled. “And babe, you can’t just fire people. I know she upset you, but… let’s talk about it first, okay?” Sophie pouted and leaned into him. “Liam…” Her voice went small and wounded. “Maybe I should just leave. Victoria clearly doesn’t want me here. She humiliated me in front of everyone. How am I supposed to lead a team after this?” Liam’s face darkened. He turned back to me, furious. “You heard her. Apologize. And from now on, you keep your head down. You do your work. You stop causing problems. If I hear you’ve gone after Sophie again, we’re done. Do you understand me?” The office went silent. Whispers started up around me. “Sophie’s his favorite. She’s a Yale grad.” “Yeah, and Victoria? She’s just a trophy wife who doesn’t know her place.” “Liam’s so hot when he’s protective.” I stared at the man I’d spent seven years building a life with. The man who now looked at me with nothing but contempt. Liam wasn’t done. “You’ve been coasting, Victoria. You got lucky on a few cases and you think you’re untouchable. You think you can talk down to the people I bring in?” He crossed his arms. “Effective immediately, you’re no longer a senior partner. You’re reassigned to the break room. You’ll work as Sophie’s assistant. Coffee runs. Dry cleaning. Starbucks orders. Whatever she needs.” My mouth went dry. “And one more thing,” he added. “Sophie’s promotion party is in two days. You’re going to plan it. Make it perfect. If you screw it up, you’re fired for real.” Sophie smiled. It was the smile of a predator. “Don’t worry, Liam. I’ll make sure Victoria learns her place.” — I stood there, numb, as the weight of it all crashed down on me. I thought about the all-nighters. The trial prep. The cases I’d won that put Bennett & Associates on the map. I thought about the years I’d spent on planes and in hotels, away from home, away from him, because he’d said: “Vic, this firm is ours. We’re building it together.” But it was never ours. It was always his. And now, after I’d just closed the biggest merger of my career—a deal worth billions—I was being demoted to a glorified intern. For a fake lawyer. I looked at Sophie, draped over Liam’s arm like a cheap scarf. I looked at Liam, gazing at her with something I’d never seen him give me: tenderness. Something inside me shattered. I lifted my chin. “I want a divorce.”

Liam didn’t even blink. He walked to his office and came back with a thick manila envelope. He tossed it on the table in front of me. Two documents slid out. The first: Divorce Agreement. The second: Postnuptial Asset Division Agreement. He’d been ready for this. Liam slapped both documents on the conference table. “Sign them, Victoria. Then get the hell out of Bennett & Associates. Oh—and before you go, transfer Eleanor Sterling’s merger case to Sophie.” I stared at the papers. “The firm is half mine.” Liam laughed. Actually laughed. “Half? Are you delusional?” He jabbed a finger at the postnup. “Read it. You signed this. Bennett & Associates, all assets, all equity, all future earnings—it’s mine. Premarital property. You have no claim.” My blood turned to ice. I looked down at the document. My signature was right there. Ink on paper. I remembered that day. We’d just started the firm. Money was tight. Liam came to me with this document, tears in his eyes, looking so vulnerable. “Vic, you know how risky startups are. This is just to protect you—if the firm goes under, your assets are safe. And my parents… they need reassurance. You understand, right?” He’d smiled at me. That soft, puppy-dog smile. “It’s just a formality. You and me? We don’t need paperwork. You know how much I love you.” And I—I, Victoria Sterling, one of the sharpest litigators in the country—signed it without reading the fine print. I’d reviewed thousands of contracts. I’d saved clients from bankruptcy, from fraud, from predatory agreements. But I didn’t protect myself. Because I trusted him. The irony was suffocating. I heard laughter around me. Low. Mocking. “She really thought she owned half?” “Poor thing. She got played.” Liam’s voice cut through the noise. “Victoria.” His tone was sharp. “Sign the papers. Then get out.” I picked up the pen. My hand didn’t shake. “Fine.” I signed both documents. “As you wish. I’ll leave with nothing.” I turned toward the exit. “Stop.” Liam’s voice froze me in place. I didn’t turn around. “You think signing those papers means you’re done?” His voice was cold. “You’re still an employee here. According to your contract, you owe us two weeks’ notice. You’re going to work every single day.” I spun around, staring at him in disbelief. He wanted me to stay? “And since Sophie just got promoted,” he continued, “she needs an assistant. Someone who knows the business. Congratulations, Victoria. You’re it.” He smiled. It was cruel. “Your main job? Plan Sophie’s promotion party. Make it flawless. If it’s anything less than perfect, you’ll regret it.” Sophie stepped forward, her smile saccharine. “Don’t worry, Liam. I’ll take good care of her.” — The next two days were hell. Sophie made it her mission to humiliate me. Every task was designed to degrade. Every order was delivered in front of an audience. “Victoria, this coffee’s cold. Make me a new one.” “Victoria, my dry cleaning. Now.” “Victoria, I don’t like how you folded my scarves. Do it again.” And Liam? He watched. Sometimes he even laughed. The associates who used to look up to me now whispered behind my back. The day of Sophie’s promotion party arrived.

Watch👉 https://cps-front.novelix.live/app-api/ext/new/20260619nydouoZvW5 🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “Novelix” app 🔍 search for “ni797209”, and watch the full series ✨! #Novelix