Author: Momo Chan

The first day of Royal Pack Academy entrance exams was over, and Gavin wouldn’t shut up about how Roxy—that rogue girl he’d met at some club was planned to “celebrate his coming of age.” He was actually going to accept it. The guy who’d spent three years obsessing over his Trial scores was about to throw it all away for a quick fuck. Earlier this morning, I’d been drinking coffee at the pack diner when I overheard Roxy and her friends at the next booth. “Tonight, I’m gonna wreck that virgin boy scout so bad, he won’t be able to stand tomorrow. Forget the Trials—he’ll be lucky if he can crawl to the arena.” In my last life, I’d desperately tried to stop Gavin from going. Begged him not to throw away his future. Got down on my knees and pleaded with him to think about what he was doing. Gavin’s response? “Selene, this is Roxy’s gift to me. Just because you’re too much of a prude to have fun doesn’t mean you get to cockblock my happiness.” I’d been so worried about his future that I’d told his parents everything. They locked him in his room. Dragged him to the Trials the next day like a prisoner. He passed. Got into the Royal Pack Academy. But Roxy’s plan fell apart. She got wasted, and some assholes jumped her in the alley behind the club. They found her body two days later. Gavin lost his mind. He blamed me for everything. Said I’d ruined his life. Taken away his “soulmate.” A month before Academy started, he invited me over to “talk things out.” I thought maybe we could fix things. We’d been friends since we were kids, after all. Gavin drugged my drink. When I woke up in that alley with three rogue wolves holding me down, Gavin was standing at the entrance. Watching and making sure no one interrupted. They destroyed me. My parents couldn’t handle the shame and whispers. They took wolfsbane together one night, holding hands. That bastard filmed it. Stood outside our house with his phone out, recording my parents’ final moments like it was entertainment. He brought the video to the hospital where I was recovering. Made me watch every second. “Your parents are paying for what you did to Roxy,” he’d said, grinning. “And you’re next.” I jumped from the hospital roof that night. The last thing I saw was Gavin’s smile.

“Yo, Selene, you having a stroke or something?” Gavin’s voice snapped me back to the present. He was glaring at me, annoyed. “Can you stop being so weird every time I mention another girl? It’s pathetic.” I looked down at my unmarked skin, my legs that actually worked, exactly as they’d been before everything went to hell. I was alive and breathing. I was back at the beginning—the day before everything went to hell. Gavin’s friend Travis jumped in, trying to smooth things over. “Cut her some slack, man. Selene’s scared to have fun. She’s probably just jealous that Roxy’s got you wrapped around her finger.” Gavin’s face flushed. He couldn’t help himself—had to brag. “Roxy said she’s got a surprise for me tonight.” He elbowed Travis. “Getting to celebrate my eighteenth birthday with a smoking hot girl like Roxy? Tomorrow I’m gonna perform even better than usual!” I almost laughed. This morning, I’d heard exactly what Roxy’s “surprise” entailed. “Tonight I’m gonna ‘take care of’ that virgin boy scout real good. None of you better interrupt!” “But he’s got the Trials tomorrow…” “The Trials?” Roxy’s laugh was cruel and mocking. “Why would my little plaything need to worry about that? Once he gets into some Royal Academy, you think he’ll even remember me?” So that was her idea of a “coming-of-age celebration.” It wasn’t a celebration at all. She was planning to destroy Gavin’s entire future. In my last life, I’d nearly killed myself trying to stop this from happening. And all it got me was my family’s destruction. So this life… Looking at how excited Gavin was, I slowly raised my head. A cold smile spread across my face. “You should go, Gavin. With a ‘beauty’ like Roxy to celebrate with, I’m sure you’ll ‘perform exceptionally well’ tomorrow.” Gavin froze. Blinked at me like I’d just spoken in tongues. Then Travis broke the silence with a nervous laugh. “Uh… did Selene just give you permission to hook up with someone else? Bro, I think she’s finally over you.” Gavin’s face twisted, but before he could respond, I grabbed my bag and stood up. “Wait.” His hand shot out, slamming down on my Trial Pass—the official pass needed to enter the Trials arena. “Where are you going?” I stared at his hand. “Home. To rest for tomorrow.” “Yeah?” Gavin snatched the permit off the desk, holding it above his head. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until I’m sure you’re not gonna run crying to my parents like last time.” My jaw tightened. “Gavin, give it back.” “Or what?” He smirked. “You need this to get into the arena tomorrow, don’t you? What if I just… kept it safe for you? You know, so you don’t ‘lose’ it or anything.” I forced down my anger, trying to sound helpless and reasonable. “Gavin, you know what the Trials mean to me. I promise I won’t tell your parents anything. Just please don’t mess with my future.” But even as I said it, I knew the truth—Gavin probably wouldn’t even make it to the arena tomorrow. There was no way I could let him keep my permit. Thinking about how he’d destroyed my life in my previous timeline, I suddenly lunged forward at Gavin.

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I joined a local buy-and-sell group on my phone. Just looking for some secondhand furniture, nothing special. But the prices in this group made no sense. Someone was selling an ordinary iPhone SIM removal tool for $888. And people were actually commenting, asking about it. I was about to leave when a new post caught my eye. “1999 May edition bicycle, $800, pickup only.” My birthday. May 1999. That was odd. I clicked on the photo. My blood ran cold. The background was unmistakably my living room. And we’d only bought that bike two months ago. Before I could process this, someone commented. “Bro, last time was great. The service was top-notch. This $800 price is a steal. Five stars!” The group exploded with questions. “Boss, what are the specs and dimensions?” The seller replied quickly. “90 minutes. 89-58-92.” My hands started shaking. Those were my measurements. My exact measurements. One coincidence I could dismiss. But this? “Damn, that figure!” someone typed. “Bro, got real photos? Can you do delivery?” Then someone posted a picture. A woman in a black and white maid outfit, collapsed on a sofa. She wore a mask, hiding her face. But I recognized the hair color. And that birthmark on her chest. It was identical to mine. I zoomed in, my breathing rapid. The photo disappeared. “Already tried her out for you guys. Boss is reliable You can trust this.” The seller replied casually. “I just got into fishing lately. Not interested in cycling anymore. I’d like to share with my brothers.” I looked at the corner of our living room. Ryan’s collection of secondhand fishing gear, piled high. My stomach churned. Ryan Mitchell, my husband of three years. Always so sunny, so clean-cut. I never imagined he’d do something like this. Drugging his own wife. And selling… photos? Videos? The messages kept rolling. My scalp tingled. My ears rang. These men were discussing me like I was whore. No dignity. No humanity. “Bro, I’ll take it. When can I pick up?” someone finally bid. “Don’t rush. This premium goods is mine. I’ll add $100!” People started competing. The seller grew excited. “Highest bidder wins! I guarantee the quality is top-grade!” Ryan’s disgusting innuendo made the chat explode. I felt like I’d fallen into hell. Cold. Sticky. Nauseating. My hands trembled as I took screenshots. The simple motion took several tries because my fingers wouldn’t cooperate. I was about to confront Ryan when a user named “CatLover” made an offer.

“$10,000. But I need delivery.” The price silenced everyone else. “CatLover” posted an address. “Riverside Apartments.” I was still praying this was all a misunderstanding. Then Ryan texted me. “Honey, I sold our old bike. But the buyer can’t pick up. Can you drop it off at Riverside Apartments this afternoon?” Everything froze. My chest tightened so much I couldn’t breathe. “Do I have to go?” My fingers shook as I typed, hoping Ryan had some shred of conscience left. “Honey, what’s wrong?” Ryan’s reply was as gentle as always. “Are you feeling sick? Should I take you to the doctor?” Ryan and I had been together since high school. Sweethearts who went from prom to wedding vows. Even after marriage, he remained thoughtful and caring. All our friends envied me for marrying my soulmate. But now he wouldn’t give me a straight answer. “I don’t feel well. I don’t want to go,” I refused again. Ryan paused, then replied with words that chilled me to the bone. “Honey, did you catch a cold last night? There’s Vitamin C in the nightstand drawer. Take one.” “I’ll leave work early and go with you.” “Why do I have to go?!” I couldn’t stand this feeling of being hunted. Tears streamed down my face as I typed. Ryan called immediately. “The buyer is an autistic girl. She’s scared of men, so she needs a woman to deliver.” His voice sounded so natural. “You’re usually so compassionate. What’s wrong today?” If I didn’t know the truth, I might have believed him. “I’m not going!” My voice was flat, but my body shook. From anger or fear, I couldn’t tell. Minutes later, the seller @’d “CatLover” in the group. “Bro, sorry. Something’s wrong with the goods today. Can’t do delivery.” I exhaled in relief. Then “CatLover” responded. “No problem. I can pick up.” “But I have… specific requirements. Can she handle it?” The seller replied instantly: “Don’t worry. As long as you don’t break her, I offer after-sales service!” Their words wrapped around me like thorned rope, suffocating me. The seller posted an address. My address. Our home. I had to run. I stumbled out of the bedroom, rushing toward the door. Ryan texted: “Honey, did you take that vitamin?” “I’m almost home to be with you.” I reached for the doorknob. “Honey, where are you going?” The living room camera swiveled toward me. Ryan’s voice came through the speaker. My scalp prickled. Like I was walking down a dark hallway, watched by hungry eyes lurking in the shadows. “Just… getting some air.” I forced myself to stay calm, but my voice trembled. “You sound terrible. Don’t go out. I’ll be right there.” Ryan sounded so concerned. I thought bitterly: no wonder I never suspected him. He was such a good actor. I ignored him and reached for the door again. I needed to leave—to my parents’ house, to the police station, anywhere. “Why do you have to go out?” Ryan sighed. “You’re not well. What if you faint outside? I’d have to search everywhere for you.” “But it’s okay. You gave me access to your phone’s location. I can track you anytime.” His casual words sent ice through my veins. He was telling me he could find me anywhere. I laughed bitterly. Our love and trust had become chains. I glanced at the camera with despair and grabbed the door handle. The moment I touched it, my head spun. My legs gave out. I collapsed.

I woke up in my bedroom. Every muscle ached. My clothes had been changed. Terror gripped me. What happened while I was unconscious? I heard voices outside the door. Ryan was talking to someone. “Alex, you can’t just bring strangers to our house!” Ryan sounded angry. “Emma was home alone. You could’ve scared her!” I was confused. Then I heard Ryan’s brother Alex speak. “Bro, the guy needed the bike urgently. Emma didn’t want to deliver it, so I brought him here to pick it up. How was I supposed to know she was sick?” “And your fishing gear—when are you taking it?” Ryan’s voice rose. “You keep buying useless junk and dumping it at my place because you’re scared your wife will yell at you!” I lay frozen in bed. The bike sale wasn’t Ryan? The fishing gear wasn’t his? Had I been wrong about everything? But that woman in the mask looked exactly like me. Ryan opened the door. He saw me awake and kissed my forehead gently. “Good. Your fever’s gone.” “Silly girl, didn’t even know you were burning up. Still feeling bad?” I glanced at Alex standing in the doorway, his eyes cold and distant. The questions stuck in my throat. I shook my head weakly. Maybe I’d misunderstood. Maybe the seller wasn’t Ryan. At least this time, “CatLover” didn’t get what he wanted. Right?

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My parents’ love story was legendary. General Catherine Thorne—decorated war hero. Dr. Julian Vane—world-renowned neurosurgeon. Mother’s chest glittered with medals. One space remained empty. She’d sacrificed the highest honor to save Father from a conspiracy years ago. The elite private estate outside the city—The Vane Institute—was Mother’s gift to him. So he’d feel safe. The day I was born, she summoned the entire honor guard to our gates. They played victory marches all night. People said I was the only proof their legendary love was real. When I turned five, a handsome man became a regular at our home. He was always by Mother’s side. One day, he cornered me in the garden. Stroked the pony Mother had given me. His smile was gentle. And cruel. “You know your father’s old, right? His hands shake too much to hold a scalpel anymore.” “Only I can protect your mother’s future. Soon, I’ll be the master here.” I didn’t quite understand. But I told Father what he said. The next day, the news reported on that man. Former elite sniper Liam—permanent nerve damage to both hands. An ‘accident.’ Father was in his study, polishing his scalpel. The blade gleamed. He looked up at me, voice calm as glass. “Asher, I took out the trash for you. Do you like your gift?” – “Mother, when did you get back?” Her face was thunder-dark. Still in full uniform. Combat boots thudded against marble as she blew past me without a glance. Straight to Father’s study. BANG. She kicked the door open. Father sat at his desk, methodically polishing a silver scalpel with a velvet cloth. “Julian! Was it you?” Her voice was ice shattering on concrete. Foreign. Cold. “Liam’s hands are ruined! His entire life is destroyed! Do you understand how important he is to me? To the entire division?” Father raised his eyes. Those eyes that had saved countless lives. Now they held nothing. Not even boredom. “Trash in my way. I cleaned it up. Problem?” “You—” Mother’s chest heaved. She ripped a black pistol from her hip. Aimed it at Father’s head. “He’s a genius! The division’s top marksman! I pulled every string to transfer him to my unit, and you dare destroy him?” My legs went weak. I knew that gun. Mother’s office wall displayed targets it had shredded. Perfect bullseyes. I threw myself between them, arms spread wide. “Don’t you hurt him!” The fury in Mother’s eyes flickered when she saw me. The barrel dipped. Father pulled me into his arms. His heart hammered, but his grip was iron. Then he laughed. Low and mocking. “So. Your protégé means more than your own son.” Mother’s face flushed red, then white. She holstered the weapon. But her eyes turned colder. “Catherine, you disappoint me.” “Liam only admires me. He’s done nothing wrong! You’re the one who can’t tolerate anyone!” “Starting today, he moves in. I’ll personally care for him until he recovers.” “You owe him this.” She turned and left without another glance. This house is collapsing. The next day, Liam moved in.

Mother personally wheeled him through the door. The staff kept their heads down, barely breathing. He got the guest room next to my parents’ bedroom. My favorite room—the one with the best light. Mother hired the best nurses. Twenty-four-hour care. She moved her office into his room. Said she needed to work while keeping him company. Overnight, the house belonged to Liam. He was a talented actor. When Mother was around, he slumped in his chair, weak and breathless. Eyes always red-rimmed. “Catherine, this is my fault. If I hadn’t admired you so much, hadn’t stayed so close, the doctor wouldn’t have misunderstood.” “My hands don’t matter. As long as I can see you every day, I’m content.” Mother looked at him with guilt. Tenderness. “Don’t worry. I’ll make him give you an answer.” But the moment she left, Liam’s eyes went venomous. He ordered the nurses to throw out all my limited-edition spacecraft models. “Five years old and playing with baby toys.” He sneered, crooked a finger. “Come here.” I didn’t move. His eyes went ice-cold. “Tell Julian this is interest. His precious son belongs to me now.” I ran crying to Father. He was in the greenhouse, trimming rose bushes. After I told him, he snipped an overgrown branch.Spoke softly. “Asher, don’t cry.” “Remember—when a rabid dog bites you, you don’t kill it immediately.” “First, you pull its teeth. Cut its claws. Make sure it can’t bark or scratch.” “Then, slowly, you watch it writhe in desperation.” I didn’t fully understand. But the hurt faded. That evening, doctors in white coats flooded the house. Mother’s subordinates. Father’s colleagues. Mother thought Father was surrendering. Her expression softened. She even spoke to him before dinner. At the table, Father raised his wine glass and stood. Smiled with practiced elegance. “I’ve gathered you all here today to bear witness.” The dining room fell silent. Mother and Liam watched him. Liam’s mouth held a hint of triumph. “Mr. Simth suffered permanent nerve damage from an ‘accident.’ As a physician, I’m deeply troubled.” “Therefore, I’ve decided to provide all subsequent rehabilitation therapy free of charge. I’ll mobilize every resource and personally assemble a recovery team until he… recovers.” He emphasized the word ‘recovers.’ Mother’s and Liam’s faces changed instantly. Let the man who destroyed a sniper’s hands personally administer ‘rehabilitation therapy’? This wasn’t treatment. This was slow torture with surgical precision. Father set down his glass. Crystal clinked against marble. He looked at Liam’s pale face, smile growing warmer. Words turning the air frigid. “Mr. Simth, tomorrow morning, eight sharp at the rehabilitation center. Oh—the first treatment is high-intensity electrical nerve stimulation. Excellent for regeneration.” “It might hurt a bit. Try to endure it.” Mother nearly exploded. But the room was packed with military and medical elite. All of them sharks. She swallowed her rage. “Julian, you—” Father interrupted smoothly. “What? General Thorne doesn’t trust my skills?” He paused. Eyes swept to the assembled doctors. Perfect smile. “Or do you think I’m settling a personal vendetta?” The air froze. Someone rushed to smooth things over. “Dr. Vane’s expertise is world-class. We trust him completely.” “Absolutely. Having Dr. Vane personally oversee rehabilitation—Mr. Simth is fortunate.” “Indeed. General, you can rest easy.” They nodded like the bobblehead toys in my room. Mother’s face went black as her polished boots. She understood. Father was forcing her hand. In front of these people, she couldn’t question her husband’s expertise. Couldn’t admit he was retaliating. That would mean airing dirty laundry, admitting she couldn’t control her own household. For a decorated general, that was unbearable humiliation. Liam trembled in his wheelchair. Under the bandages, his hands seemed to throb. He glared at Father with poisonous hatred. “Julian, don’t get cocky! Catherine won’t let you get away with this!”

Father smiled. Walked to Liam. Looked down at him. Voice gentle as a doctor soothing a difficult patient. “Mr. Simth, relax. Stress hinders recovery.” “The first step in nerve rehabilitation is electrical awakening therapy. Don’t worry—I’ll personally control the current intensity, ensuring precise stimulation of every damaged nerve ending. We’ll monitor your pain threshold in real-time for optimal therapeutic effect.” “The process might be… stimulating. But for recovery, you must endure.” Liam’s face drained of color. Electrical shock. Torture. I could picture him convulsing like a fish out of water. Mother finally snapped. Slammed the table. Plates jumped. “Enough! Julian, do you have to be this ruthless?” Father’s smile vanished. He turned, cold eyes fixed on her. “I’m ruthless? Catherine, when you brought this man into our home, did you think about my feelings?” “When you pointed that gun at me, did you remember we’re married?” “When you let him torment your son, did you remember you’re a mother?” “You destroyed this family step by step. You destroyed everything between us!” His voice wasn’t loud. But each word struck like a hammer. The dining room went silent as a tomb. Mother’s lips moved. No sound came out. Her chest heaved violently. Father took my hand and walked away. “Asher, we’re going home.” This was our home. But he said it like we were leaving a cold hotel. After that night, Mother surrendered. She couldn’t risk her career and reputation. Liam’s ‘rehabilitation therapy’ was set. At the Institute Mother had gifted Father years ago. The next day, Father and I moved there. He said the house was too dirty. Needed deep disinfection. The Institute was beautiful, like a castle from a fairy tale. But every nurse and doctor bowed when they saw Father. Eyes full of reverence and fear. Liam’s treatment room was at the corridor’s end. Soundproof. I snuck a look once. Through thick observation glass, I saw Liam strapped to a table with leather restraints. Father wore a white coat, mask, and goggles. Eyes focused and cold. He held two metal probes, moving them slowly across Liam’s arms. Each touch made Liam’s body jerk violently. His throat produced sounds caught between screaming and whimpering. The noise scraped my eardrums like a cat’s claws. Acidic. Painful. I ran back to my room and hid under the blankets, shaking. Mother came to see me once. She’d lost weight. Eyes bloodshot. Uniform wrinkled, reeking of smoke. She held me, voice hoarse as sandpaper. “Asher, I know your father was wronged.” “But Liam… he doesn’t deserve this.” “Talk to your father. Tell him to stop. Liam’s going to lose his mind.” I looked up at her seriously. “Mother, do you still love him?” She froze. Her arms stiffened. She didn’t answer for a long time. Just held me tighter. Chin resting on my head. “Asher, the adult world is complicated. You’ll understand when you’re older.” I didn’t understand. I only knew adults called their own failures ‘complicated.’ Liam’s screams became the Institute’s daily soundtrack. A month later, he was released. Emaciated beyond recognition. Eyes vacant. A puppet with its strings cut. He cowered at the sight of anyone, muttering constantly: “No more shocks… please… no more…” He’d lost his mind. When Mother came for him, she saw his state. This iron-willed woman’s eyes turned blood-red. She didn’t scream. Didn’t rage. Just looked at Father. Eyes like a bottomless well. “Julian, you won.” Father removed his glasses. Polished them slowly with velvet. Voice equally calm. “No. The war has just begun.” Mother carried the broken Liam away. Back resolute. I thought it was over. I was wrong. Mother’s retaliation came faster. Harder. She targeted what Father treasured most. Not his career. Not his reputation. Me.

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Dad waited ten years for Mom to bring her three-year-old daughter and mate with him. He was my mother’s second chance mate. After I was born, my sister Selene developed severe appetite loss. Only when feeding me would she smile and eat a few more bites. So whenever Selene held the spoon, Mom would press down on my shoulders, gently forcing me to open my mouth. When I was five, my teacher said pups should bravely refuse things that make them unhappy. So when I was so full I couldn’t swallow another bite, I refused Selene’s feeding. She cried until her face turned blue, as if she’d suffered the greatest injustice. Mom rushed over like a madwoman, her nails digging deep into my flesh. “You already have Dad and Mom’s love. Why do you need to compete with your sister for attention?” “Can’t you just be obedient and eat more for your sister’s condition?” Dad looked at Mom with heartache in his eyes. He picked up Selene, saying he’d take her to the pack grounds to cheer up. I rolled on the floor in pain, but Mom thought I was lying. Furious, she slammed the door shut, saying she needed to punish my disobedience. I clutched my stomach, tears covering my entire face. I’m sorry, Mom. Next time I’ll definitely eat my meat obediently to make Selene happy. I pressed my small hands tightly against my stomach, curling up into a ball. But my mind drifted to how every time Mom’s stomach hurt, she’d take pills from the cabinet and feel better. When I finally managed to open the pill bottle, my stomach suddenly clenched in pain, and pills scattered everywhere. Just as I was about to pick them up, I heard the door open. My eyes lit up—Dad was back. I reached out to him: “Dad, there are so many bugs biting me inside my stomach…” Dad rushed toward me in panic, but Mom grabbed him. “She doesn’t speak a word of truth.” “Have you forgotten how she stole jerky the other day, then when I caught her, she blamed Selene!” “Now she’s lying about stomach pain, just trying to fake sick so we won’t take Selene out to play.” That’s not how it was. Last time, Selene brought the living room snacks into my room. She tore open the packages, showing off as she stuffed them in her mouth. I told her to eat less jerky, or she wouldn’t have an appetite for dinner. But Selene puffed her cheeks and waved the spiced jerky in front of me. When Mom opened the door, she shoved the jerky into my hand. She wiped the grease from her fingers onto my clothes. I happily told Mom that Selene’s condition was better. But Mom angrily dragged me out of the room and made me kneel in the living room to reflect. She called me a liar. Said I stole the jerky myself, then tried to frame my sick sister. I cried, saying I didn’t steal anything. Mom’s face turned as cold as the snow outside. Ice-cold. She threw me out the door, saying she’d throw away lying pups. I cried for so long, begging Mom not to abandon me. Finally, Dad took pity and secretly slipped an egg into my hand. He told me to quickly admit my mistake, not to make Mom angry. The sky gradually darkened, and my stomach growled with hunger. Mom held a steaming bowl of broth and asked if I knew I was wrong. Smelling the fragrant broth, I sobbed and said I knew I was wrong. That time, I really did lie. And Mom forgave me. Thinking of this, even though I had no idea what I’d actually done wrong, I still carefully tugged at Mom’s dress hem, saying over and over that I was wrong. I thought this way Mom would hold me like last time and say she loved me too. But when she noticed the pills scattered on the floor, she angrily kicked me away. “Stella, have you really become this troublesome?” “First you deliberately refused to eat to starve your sister, now you’re trying to wreck the house!” “Today I must punish you!” Dad was about to speak when Mom’s glare silenced him. “Lucas, if you interfere with me disciplining Stella one more time, we’re getting divorced!” Dad sighed helplessly. He took me from Mom’s hands. Just when I thought Dad would carry me to the Healer’s Den, he personally locked me in the bedroom. Dad touched my head. “Stella, for this family, be good, okay?” I clutched Dad’s sleeve tightly, crying my heart out. “But Dad, my stomach really hurts.” Mom’s dissatisfied urging came from the living room. “Lucas, are you favoring Stella again?” “When we mated, you swore you’d love Selene like your own daughter!” “If you keep favoring the younger one, there’s no point continuing this!” Hearing this, Dad suddenly pushed me away. He left quickly. He didn’t even notice that because of his force, I’d been pushed to the floor. My head hit the corner of the table, making everything fuzzy. Through the unclosed door crack, I saw Dad lifting Selene high in the air. Mom’s face finally showed a smile. She turned her head and locked eyes with me. Mom frowned and slammed the door shut. The room plunged into darkness. I couldn’t see anything, but I heard Mom’s words even more clearly. She said: “Stella is spoiled by you.” “Eating is such a blessing, yet she’s learned to waste food.” “Good. Lock her up for a day. Let her learn that every grain is hard-earned.”

Then came her gentle voice. She said: “Selene, you’ll always be Mom’s precious one.” “It’s okay if you don’t like eating, but when you’re hungry, you must tell Mom.” The house gradually quieted down. Pitch black darkness. My heart pounded wildly. But I was too short to reach the light switch. I had to climb onto the bed myself. If I fell asleep, my stomach wouldn’t hurt. I’d always gotten through it this way before. But this time, my stomach really hurt so much. I imitated how Mom coaxed Selene to eat, gently patting my swollen stomach. “Please stop hurting!” “It’s your fault, making Mom think I’m disobedient.” But it wouldn’t listen to me. Instead, it made me hurt even more. So when Mom scolded me for disobedience, did it hurt her like this too? Tears dripped down. I’m sorry, Mom. It’s all my fault for being disobedient, making you hurt so many times. My head started hurting too. I wiped the sweat from my head. It was sticky. Remembering how last time I was locked outside for grease stains on my clothes, I frantically tried to wipe my face clean. But the sweat wouldn’t wipe off. I felt colder and colder. Even after burrowing under the covers, I still shivered with cold. Gradually, I felt so tired, and fell completely asleep. When I opened my eyes again, I found my stomach didn’t hurt at all. I started jumping around excitedly. My body passed straight through the locked door. I saw Dad and Mom who’d just returned. Mom was patiently feeding Selene small cakes. “Selene, eat one more bite, okay?” Selene turned her head away. “No, no. I feel sick just looking at it.” Mom sighed, her brow furrowed. I raised my hand to smooth it out, but found my small hand couldn’t touch Mom. I vaguely realized—I seemed to have died. Just like the kitten Selene killed. That was something Selene had begged to buy. But after just a few days, she found the kitten’s litter box disgusting. Mom gave me the task of caring for the kitten. I didn’t mind the kitten’s mess at all. The first thing I did after training each day was change its water and add food. After spending time together, the kitten would let me pet it and act cute with me. With it around, I no longer felt sad that Dad and Mom only had eyes for Selene. Okay, I lied again. Actually, I was still a little sad. Just a tiny bit. When Selene discovered the kitten liked me more, she snatched it from my arms. The kitten meowed in fear, scratching her while struggling. That night, Mom’s face was especially dark. After Selene got her shot, the kitten hid under the bed, too scared to come out. I knelt before Mom, crying and apologizing for the kitten. But Mom said animals that hurt people couldn’t be kept. She also said I was heartless. “In your heart, is your sister’s safety worth less than a vicious animal?” I cried, saying it was different. Selene had Dad and Mom’s love. The kitten only had me. If I couldn’t protect it, no one else could. Mom said I was being unreasonable and told Dad to tie me up with a belt. She grabbed the kitten and brought it to Selene, letting her decide its fate. I struggled desperately, but could only watch helplessly as the kitten was killed. I cried until my voice went hoarse. But Mom only cared that Selene ate three more bites today. As for Dad, he only cared about Mom’s mood. When the kitten died, at least I was there to mourn. But when I died, no one cared at all.

Dad set down various toys from the pack grounds on the couch. He also held a red potato, knocking on my door. “Stella, are you asleep? Dad brought you something good.” Selene, who’d been playing with dolls, jumped down from her stool and whined to Mom: “Mom, I want to eat the red potato Dad’s holding.” Seeing Selene’s rare appetite, Mom immediately swapped the potatoes with Dad. Watching Selene eat bite after bite, her eyes reddened with excitement. Maybe because Mom couldn’t see me, I said loudly that I hated Selene most. She was always so unreasonable, taking my things. Even with two identical portions, Selene always thought mine was better. Even Mom would suspect Dad secretly bought me better things. So what I got was always what Selene didn’t want or left over. Even dresses and shoes were Selene’s hand-me-downs. Thinking of this, I sighed heavily. Mom always said she envied how I was young and carefree. But I had so many worries. Mom said Selene didn’t have a real father, so she needed to be extra good to her. My real father also said he needed to be good to Selene. He said he was a stepfather, had to treat us equally, or people would gossip. Dad and Mom both said to be good to Selene, repeatedly telling me I needed to be good to Selene too. I counted on my fingers. Five is clearly smaller than eight. So why did five-year-old me have to give in to eight-year-old Selene? When he noticed Dad still standing at my door, Mom got angry. “Didn’t I say to starve her for a day?” “If you go soft on her, you’re sleeping in the study tonight!” Dad said nothing, calling my name again. Still no response from me. I floated to his side, saying over and over that I was here. But he couldn’t hear me. Dad finally lost patience, muttering: “Why is this pup so stubborn?” Mom was even more smug. “See, I told you!” “Stella’s an ungrateful wolf. It’s only been three hours of confinement, and she’s deliberately ignoring you.” “Who knows how rebellious she’ll be when she grows up.” “Not like our Selene—obedient and clever.” Selene proudly raised her head, quickly swallowing the food in her mouth. Seeing this, Mom praised Selene in endless variations. I enviously watched Mom feed Selene. She’d never fed me. Mom said I already had a dad, so she needed to give more love to Selene. She was busy making food for Selene, busy taking Selene to the Academy, busy taking Selene to see healers. I was left with the neighbor lady. Over time, other pups mocked me for having no one pick me up. I frowned and loudly argued they were wrong— because not only did I have no dad picking me up, Mom never picked me up either! When I got a bit older, I’d learned to eat by myself. But Selene volunteered to feed me. The food was too hot, the spoon hurt my tongue, my stomach was too full… But whenever I mentioned these things, Mom said I was being delicate. She told me to eat more, saying only then would Selene be happy. When Selene was happy, her condition would improve. When her illness got better, Mom said she’d have time to love me. But I waited so long. And never waited for the day Mom would love me.

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Two days before launch, an anonymous tip destroyed everything. “Ava Thorne has concealed a history of mental illness. She’s unfit for the mission.” Just like that, my flight clearance vanished. Three years in a psychiatric facility followed—three years of hell while my husband Ethan climbed the ranks at The Agency, earning medals and promotions. When he finally came to collect me, his smile was practiced. Professional. “I had no choice, Ava. Politics, you know? But I took a demotion to bring you home. We can start over.” I spent the next thirty years tiptoeing around our kitchen, careful not to remind him of the career he’d “sacrificed” for me. I cooked his meals. Pressed his shirts. Made myself small. Until the day I died, and our daughter found the letters. The first was the anonymous tip that had destroyed my career. In Ethan’s handwriting. The others were worse—thirty years of correspondence between my husband and Sera Vance, the widow. The woman whose husband had died saving Ethan and my brother Leo during a classified operation. In the letters, Ethan confessed everything. How he’d forged the psychiatric evaluation. How he’d slipped it into my mission application. How he’d sent me to that facility to clear the way for Sera—because her dead husband had made him promise to “take care of her.” The glass slipped from my hand, shattering. Each shard felt like it was piercing my heart. I should have been the one who went to space. Instead, Ethan had sacrificed me for another woman. I died that night, drowning in rage and grief. When I opened my eyes again, I was standing in our apartment. The calendar read two days before the mission selection deadline. This time, when Ethan reached for my application packet, I pulled it back. — His grip tightened on the folder, knuckles going white. “Babe, we agreed. You rest, I handle the paperwork.” “It’s my job. I can do it myself.” My hand trembled as I clutched the documents. Last time, I’d trusted him completely. Last time, I’d handed him everything without a second thought. That trust had cost me my entire life. “I just remembered—I need to double-check something.” I forced my voice steady. “I’ll submit it myself tomorrow.” Something flickered across his face. Panic? Guilt? “What did you forget? I can help.” He reached for the folder again. I locked it in my desk drawer, key clutched tight in my palm. “It’s fine. Can you check on the soup in the kitchen?” The moment he left, I tore open the packet. There it was. Psychiatric Evaluation Form. Patient: Ava Thorne. Diagnosis: Undisclosed psychotic disorder with delusional episodes. Every word was a lie. Every signature was forged. My vision blurred. It was real. All of it was real. Ethan returned with soup, concern painted on his face like a mask. “Honey, you’re crying. What’s wrong?” I let him pull me into his arms, felt his heartbeat against my cheek. Steady. Calm. The heartbeat of a man who’d planned my destruction. “You wanted to switch partners, right?” The words came out flat. “For the mission training?” Last time, I’d fought him on this for months. We’d been partners for ten years—the longest-running team at The Agency. I’d refused to let another woman take my place at his side. This time, I knew the truth. If I didn’t agree to the switch now, I’d be committed in two weeks. “You… you’re okay with it?” His whole face lit up. “Yeah. I’m okay with it.” He already had the paperwork ready. Had probably been carrying it around for weeks, waiting for me to cave. I signed without reading it. Watched joy spread across his face like sunrise. “God, Ava. You’re the best wife a guy could ask for.” He kissed my forehead. “Don’t worry—I’ll still look out for you at The Agency.” The lie tasted like copper in my mouth. He didn’t even wait for me to respond. Just grabbed his keys and practically ran for the door, already pulling out his phone. “Sera? Hey, yeah—she said yes. We can finally—” I burned the fake psychiatric report in the kitchen sink. Watched it curl and blacken until nothing remained but ash. Then I filled out a new application. This time, I’d submit it myself. This time, no one would stop me from going to space.

My desk had been cleared out overnight. Everything I owned—photos, files, the coffee mug Leo had given me—sat in a cardboard box in the bullpen. My private office, the one I’d earned after ten years of partnership with Ethan, now belonged to Sera Vance. She sat at my desk wearing Ethan’s jacket. Eating the breakfast sandwich he used to make for me. This was him “looking out for me.” Lily from Engineering saw my face and stood up, fists clenched. “This is bullshit. I’m going to—” “Don’t.” I caught his arm. “I agreed to end the partnership. The office was part of the deal.” “That doesn’t make it right.” No. It didn’t. But I had bigger problems than office politics. That afternoon, I showed up for advanced training and found my name had been moved to Sera’s basic certification group. Ethan’s doing. Obviously. I marched straight to his training bay. Found him carrying Sera out of the simulation pod, her body limp in his arms. “Easy, easy. I pushed you too hard today.” He cradled her against his chest, opening a water bottle with his teeth. “Here, drink.” She took a delicate sip, then touched his cheek. “I don’t mind the pain. As long as I get to go to space with you.” They didn’t notice me for a full thirty seconds. When Ethan finally looked up, his hand jerked away from Sera’s waist. “Ava. Shit. This isn’t—Sera wasn’t feeling well. As her trainer, I was just—” “Why did you move me to basic training?” Sera’s expression shifted. The helpless damsel act vanished, replaced by something cold and sharp. “Sorry about that. Ethan just cares about me so much.” “You must be so frustrated,” she continued, voice dripping fake sympathy. “Maybe you should stop making things difficult for him. He’s exhausted.” I’d heard this routine before. Sera played innocent for Ethan while her eyes promised war. “Answer the question,” I said to Ethan. “Why the transfer?” ” Final selection is in three weeks. Are you trying to tank my chances?” “No! God, no.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You’ve been stressed, Ava. I thought some basic training might help you decompress.” Sera nodded eagerly. “He’s just trying to help. I’m not trying to take your spot, I swear. It’s just that people in my old group were so mean to me, and Ethan couldn’t stand seeing me hurt.” I almost laughed. Would have, if rage hadn’t been choking me. Ethan had watched me get screamed at by instructors for five straight years. Watched me scrub toilets as punishment for minor infractions. Watched other trainees lock me in equipment closets. His response then? “If you worked harder, they wouldn’t pick on you.” But two weeks of Sera getting constructive criticism, and suddenly he was reorganizing training rosters. “Sera doesn’t have the physical conditioning for advanced training,” I said. “Moving her up means someone else gets cut. That someone is me.” Sera’s eyes welled with tears. “I knew this would happen. Everyone thinks I’m stealing opportunities. I should just go back to basic.” She stumbled toward the door. Ethan caught her, pulled her close. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said, glaring at me. “That was a low blow, Ava. Even for you.” “Excuse me?” “You got into this program because I voucher for you. Don’t act like you earned this spot on your own merit.” The words hit like a physical blow. “My decision stands,” Ethan continued. “You clearly need the attitude adjustment. Stay in basic training until you learn some humility.”

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I was scrolling through Reddit when I stumbled upon a post that made me stop cold. **[Throwaway] Our biological daughter contacted us and wants to visit. We’re close with our adopted daughter and don’t want her disrupting our family of three.** **She’s clearly after the inheritance and won’t leave us alone. Is there a clean way to get rid of her permanently without it affecting us?** I died once before, three years from now, and somehow came back with all my memories intact. I know that in three days, the Freeze will begin. It was an apocalyptic disaster that would plunge the world into deadly subzero temperatures for three years. I felt sorry for this biological daughter, so I left a comment. **Tell her the Freeze is coming in three days. Send her to a mountain cave shelter with three years’ worth of supplies.** The original poster liked my comment. The next day, I dragged my suitcase up to my biological parents’ estate. Before I could even speak, they grabbed my hands. “Sophia, the Freeze is coming. We need to get you to a cave shelter.” … My heart skipped a beat. I thought of that Reddit post and tested them carefully. “Mom, Dad… How do you know about this?” They exchanged glances, their expressions grave. “Sophia, we’ve been reborn too. It sounds crazy, but your parents would never lie to you. Time is running out—in three days, the Freeze will hit.” Relief flooded through me. So they’d been reborn too. I’d been too suspicious. But then something nagged at me. This was too much of a coincidence with that post. I tested them again. “Mom, Dad, we don’t need to leave. Let’s stay here and fortify the estate…” Dad cut me off immediately. “We’re staying. Your mother and I are business owners. We have to remain here to assist with government relief operations. The estate will be used to shelter disaster victims.” But anyone who’s lived through the end knows the brutality of the apocalypse better than anyone. Survival is all that matters. Who would actually stay behind for infrastructure work? I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and decided on one final test. I moved toward the door. “Don’t you have an adopted daughter? I’ll go with her then.” The moment the words left my mouth, they panicked. They blocked my path in unison. “No!” Realizing their mistake, Mom cleared her throat. “You don’t understand. Nina has been fragile since childhood. She needs our personal care. We can only feel at ease if she stays with us.” Dad quickly added, “Exactly. Don’t overthink it. You’re our biological daughter. We’d give our lives to keep you safe.” With every word they spoke, my heart sank deeper. If I insisted on taking their adopted daughter with me, their whole plan would fall apart. At that moment, I became one hundred percent certain. My biological parents weren’t reborn at all. They were the ones who made that post. In my previous life, I’d just learned about my biological parents when the Freeze hit. That’s why I’d rushed here after my rebirth—to warn them about the coming apocalypse. But now? They didn’t deserve to know. I forced a stiff smile and nodded. “Then I’ll go alone.” Relief washed visibly over their faces, barely concealed gratitude in their eyes. I added, “But the Freeze will last a long time. I need to prepare adequate supplies to survive. I’ll gather everything tomorrow and head to the cave the day after.” They agreed immediately. That night, I opened the post again. My heart turned to ice. **Update: Plan is in motion. Sending her to the cave the day after tomorrow!** The comment section exploded. **Hahahaha she actually believes the Freeze is coming?** **You guys are ruthless. This bio daughter is kind of pitiful. If I were her, I wouldn’t have come back at all.** My parents replied instantly, their tone cutting. **What’s pitiful about her? If she hadn’t come back, she’d still be begging in the street! She only came looking for us because she wants our money. Letting her live in a cave where she won’t starve—she should be grateful!** I stared at the screen, a cold smile curling my lips. They found their biological daughter inconvenient. They’d specially crafted a Freeze prison for me, hoping to be rid of me forever. But what they could never imagine was this. The Freeze was real. And it was coming.

Early the next morning, Dad came to find me. “Sophia, we’ve already located a shelter cave for you. It’s hidden and safe. Once the government relief operations are complete, we’ll bring you back out.” I nodded obediently. “Alright. But I need a lot of supplies, and moving everything in and organizing it all requires manpower. I can’t do it alone.” Nina suddenly burst out of her room, her face twisted with impatience. “Can’t you do it yourself? God, you’re so demanding!” Her attitude made it crystal clear—she knew the truth too. I ignored her and said calmly, “Fine then. I’ll go hire some help. It’ll just cost a bit more money.” Mom and Dad panicked immediately. They were terrified I’d involve outsiders. If word got out, it would destroy their reputation. Dad quickly grabbed my arm. “No, no, no! No need for strangers. Family is more reliable!” Perfect. Exactly what I wanted. For the rest of the day, I directed all three of them like a general commanding troops. “Dad, take the truck and get steel rebar and cement. Reinforce every wall in that cave.” “Mom, buy long-term food storage, canned goods, and bottled water. As much as you can carry.” “Nina, get thermal gear, sleeping bags, and emergency medical supplies. Only the best cold-weather rated equipment.” The three of them were clearly reluctant, but to get rid of me as quickly as possible, they had no choice but to obey. They drove three trucks back and forth all day, exhausted and drenched in sweat. I supervised the entire operation. I didn’t lift a finger. I was going to make them build me an impenetrable fortress with their own hands. And when the Freeze came, I’d let them watch me living comfortably inside. While they froze outside, unable to even get through the door. That evening, Dad was installing the final reinforced door at the cave entrance. The light from outside gradually dimmed. He patted the iron door with satisfaction. “There. Now no one can get in, and no one can get out. I left a small opening at the bottom for passing supplies through.” I looked around the cave. Supplies were stacked everywhere. Preserved food and rations piled up like small mountains. Dozens of large barrels filled with drinking water. Thermal gear and sleeping bags covered the floor. A generator, diesel fuel, and basic medications. This cave had everything I needed to survive three years of the apocalypse in comfort. Mom said dismissively, “Who knows how long this so-called freeze will last. Maybe forever. But don’t worry—even if we can’t come ourselves, we’ll have someone deliver supplies to you.” Nina snapped impatiently, “Alright. let’s go. This place is filthy!” They turned and started walking away. They’d barely taken a few steps when snow began to fall from the sky. At first, just a few scattered flakes. Then it quickly turned into heavy snow, falling thick and fast. Nina cried out in shock, disbelief written all over her face. “It’s snowing? But it’s summer! How can it be snowing this hard in the middle of summer?” Mom and Dad froze too, confusion in their eyes. I turned and walked back into the cave, my steps light. Yes, snow in the summer. Could the Freeze be far behind?

As I was leaving, Dad deliberately smashed my phone, cutting off my contact with the outside world. I’d been prepared. I had a backup phone hidden in my bag. I opened the news app and found exactly what I expected—emergency alerts. “Emergency Alert: Unprecedented summer snowfall reported across multiple states. Temperatures plummeting rapidly. Citizens are urged to stay at home and prepare cold-weather protection immediately.” Next, I checked the Reddit post. Nina had switched to her own account. **That idiot sister actually believes the Freeze is coming! She’s sitting in that cave like a good little prisoner. So easy to fool! Now no one’s going to disrupt our perfect family of three. Mom and Dad love me best!** The comment section was split between people mocking me and people who found the situation pitiful. Nina saw the sympathetic comments and fired back immediately. **She should’ve known her place. Mom and Dad never looked for her all these years, but she had the nerve to show up anyway. She deserves this!** Someone else commented. **It’s literally snowing in summer right now. What if the Freeze is actually coming?** Nina exploded. **You’re as stupid as she is! Want me to lock you both up together?** I closed the post and headed deeper into the cave toward a small hidden opening. I’d deliberately left it there. It was just big enough for one person to crawl through. After my rebirth, I’d made sure my adoptive parents prepared early before I left to find the Ashfords. But this place—with its fortress built by the Ashford family’s own hands and abundant supplies—was the safest option. Bringing them here was the right choice. When I reached my adoptive parents’ house, they looked surprised to see me and quickly pulled me inside. “Sophia, what are you doing back? Did the Ashfords treat you badly?” “Mom, Dad, I came to take you somewhere safe.” Mr.Parker and Mrs. Parker had raised me with love and even encouraged me to find my biological family. Now it was my turn to protect them. I kept it brief, not wanting to worry them. I just said I needed to bring them to a shelter. My parents packed a few changes of clothes and followed me without question. By the time we reached the mountain path, it was already getting dark. As we approached the cave entrance, I suddenly spotted a figure nearby. I quickly pulled Mom and Dad behind some trees. I looked closer. It was Nina! My heart jumped. What was she doing here? Had she seen the summer snow and actually started to believe the Freeze was real?

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My lawyer husband sent his mistress of two years to prison for me. But when the judge asked for his final testimony, he looked me in the eye and changed everything. “I’m testifying on behalf of Chloe Martinez.” His voice carried across the courtroom. “The person who killed my in-laws wasn’t Chloe. It was my wife, Aria Bennett.” Six years. That’s what the judge gave me for manslaughter I didn’t commit. I screamed my innocence until the bailiffs dragged me out. Julian wouldn’t even look at me. He kept his eyes on Chloe, who dabbed at fake tears with a designer handkerchief. Prison changed me in ways that can’t be undone. They took my left eye with a rusted spoon in the shower block. My leg snapped in three places when they threw me down the stairs, the bone jutting through skin. The knife that carved up my face was dull, and they made sure I stayed conscious for every stroke. I tried to appeal. Filed motion after motion until Julian’s people made it clear that wouldn’t be tolerated. “Boss says to tell you—shut up or the six years becomes your whole life,” the guard said before she held my head in the toilet and flushed. I lived like something less than human. When Julian picked me up from the gates two months early, he draped his arm around my shoulders like we were still in love. Like I wasn’t half-blind and limping, my face a roadmap of scars. “Chloe’s young,” he said, casual as weekend plans. “Her youth shouldn’t be wasted behind bars. You’re different. You can handle it.” “Six years flew by, didn’t they?” He smiled. It didn’t reach his eyes. “As long as you don’t cause trouble for Chloe anymore, I’ll treat you right. We can move past this.” I pulled out my phone with shaking hands and typed a message to the number I’d memorized in my cell. *I**’**ll marry you. But first, you help me kill two people.* The response came within seconds. *Names.* *Julian Hart. Chloe Martinez.* *Done. I**’**ll collect you in one week. Their heads will be your wedding gift.* I shut off the phone and shoved Julian away. His expression darkened. “Aria, I know you’re upset about the testimony, but Chloe couldn’t survive prison. She’s too fragile.” “You’ve risked your life for me before. I didn’t even ask you to take a bullet this time—just six years. Why are you being difficult?” My fingernails cut crescents into my palms. He knew exactly who Chloe had killed. Not strangers. Not random victims. The couple who raised me from nothing, who gave me a name and a home when I was three years old and alone in the world. On our wedding day, I told him the truth—I was an orphan. If my foster parents hadn’t taken me in, I wouldn’t have survived, let alone married someone like him. He cried. Actually cried. Held me and swore on everything holy: “I’ll take care of you the way they did. They are my family now. I’ll make you happy for the rest of your life.” Then my parents drove to pick me up after one of our fights. Chloe’s car hit them doing ninety in a forty zone, drunk off her ass. She dragged their bodies two hundred yards before she noticed. Julian promised justice. Promised the person responsible would face consequences. Then he found out it was Chloe and threw me under the bus instead. “Julian.” My voice came out raw. “Chloe killed my parents.” “You were my defense lawyer. You turned on me in open court, twisted the narrative until everyone believed I was a murderer, and shielded the real killer. Six years. Don’t you feel even a shred of guilt?” Hearing the accusation in my voice, Chloe quickly tucked herself into his embrace, tears already streaming. “Aria, I know you hate me for the accident, but I never meant to hurt anyone. Your parents walked right in front of my car. What was I supposed to do?” She pulled a knife from her purse. Pressed the blade to her wrist. “If you still blame me, I’ll just end it right here.” Julian tore the knife away and crushed her against him. When he looked at me, his eyes could’ve frozen blood. “Chloe’s suffered just as much as you these past six years. She became a vegetarian to atone for your parents’ deaths. She’s prayed for their souls every single night. Do you have to be so unreasonable?”

His words scraped against the raw wound where my heart used to be. I was the one who lost my parents. I was the one who rotted in a cell for six years. But somehow I was unreasonable. Did he forget what his people did to me inside? Every time I tried to appeal, the punishment got worse. They used that rusted spoon on my eye because it hurt more than a clean blade. The steel plate they broke my leg with had nails embedded in it. The knife that carved my face was dull as a butter knife. They held me down and made me drink from the toilet while the ringleader spit on me. “Boss says you need to learn when to shut up. Keep filing appeals and he’ll make sure your six years turns into forever.” I’d curl into corners where the guards couldn’t see me, shaking. Not just from the pain in my body, but from the agony in my chest. Four years I stood by Julian’s side. Chloe showed up for two months and erased everything. One word from her about being scared, and he fabricated evidence to bury me. One word about not wanting him to visit, and he abandoned me for six years straight. I wanted to die so many times. But the hatred growing in my chest wouldn’t let me. If I died, I couldn’t avenge my parents. Couldn’t clear my name. I walked up to Chloe and slapped her hard enough to leave a handprint. She shrieked and grabbed her face. Julian seized my wrist, his grip brutal. “Aria, have you lost your goddamn mind?” “An apology means nothing unless she’s dead.” My voice came out flat and terrible. He backhanded me across the face. I hit the ground, tasting copper. My vision swam, but I forced myself to look up at him. “Six years wasn’t enough punishment,” he snarled. “You think you can put your hands on Chloe now?” “Remember—I got you out two months early. I can send you right back.” He scooped Chloe into his arms and walked out without a backward glance. I stayed on the ground. My right eye started going dark too. The vision in it had been getting worse for weeks. That night, I drafted divorce papers. I found Julian’s estate from memory and pushed through the front door. A birthday party was in full swing. Everyone turned to stare when I stumbled in with my cane. “Oh my god, isn’t that Julian Hart’s wife? The one who killed her own parents?” “She looks like hell. One eye gone, limping around. What happened to her?” “Karma. She murdered her parents and framed that poor Chloe girl. Didn’t expect Julian to expose her in court, did she?” “People like her get what they deserve in prison. Bet the other inmates taught her a lesson.” Chloe covered her mouth, eyes sparkling with glee as she approached. “Aria! You should’ve called ahead. Julian just threw me a little birthday party. You’re not upset, are you?” Her smugness was obvious. But I couldn’t stop staring at what she wore. The custom gown cost more than most people’s cars. While Chloe draped herself in haute couture, I’d been trading manual labor for thin blankets in the prison laundry. Six years passed. Chloe looked radiant. I’d lost a leg, an eye, both parents, and any semblance of the person I used to be. All courtesy of Julian Hart. I dropped the divorce agreement on the table. “Julian, sign this. We’re done.” He laughed. Actually laughed. “Aria, are you stuck in the past? Look at yourself.” “You’re half-blind, you limp, and you murdered your own parents. Who else would accept you besides me?”

I’d heard worse. Much worse. Years ago, when a defendant’s family took Julian hostage, I went alone to get him back. They stabbed me through the uterus with a hunting knife. The doctors said I’d never have children. Julian asked me why I risked my life. I told him he was family—the only family I had besides my parents. Family knows exactly where to stick the knife for maximum pain. My scars weren’t armor. They were ammunition he used against me. “I didn’t kill anyone, Julian. You know that better than anyone.” My voice cut through the murmurs. His expression darkened. He rushed to correct me before the gossip could spread. “The judge convicted you. You did it. Or are you planning to lie about that too?” Hearing my accusation, Chloe grabbed my hand, tears already forming. “Aria, I know framing me for the accident didn’t work out the way you wanted, but Julian only threw this party because he felt sorry for me. I’m alone in this city, working so hard. If it bothers you, I’ll leave. Please don’t fight with Julian because of me.” Her words hit the crowd like a grenade. “That bitch is even worse than we thought. She’s bullying Chloe right in front of us!” I ignored their judgment. I was staring at Chloe’s wrist. At the bracelet catching the light. My father worked three jobs for four months to buy me that bracelet for my eighteenth birthday. He had my initials engraved on the inside. I wore it every day until it vanished right before my arrest. Now it gleamed on Chloe’s wrist. I grabbed her arm. “Where did you get that? It’s mine. Give it back.” She dropped to her knees, sobbing. “Please stop tormenting me! You can have anything else, but this bracelet is special. Julian gave it to me for my birthday.” I whirled on Julian, voice shaking. “That was the last thing my father gave me before he died. You had no right to give it to her!” Julian looked uncomfortable. For half a second, guilt flickered across his face. Then Chloe screamed and threw herself backward. Her head cracked against the edge of the coffee table. Blood poured from her scalp. Julian lost it completely. He lunged forward to help her, then kicked my broken leg. “It’s a bracelet. Does that justify attacking Chloe?” He snatched up the divorce papers and scrawled his signature. “You want a divorce? Done.” “But don’t come crawling back like a dog when you realize your mistake.” I collapsed, vision blurring red. Julian threw the signed papers at my face. The irony cut deeper than any of the prison beatings. I’d tried to divorce him dozens of times during those six years. He refused to sign every single petition. But one injury to Chloe, and suddenly he couldn’t get rid of me fast enough.

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I’ve always been a petty man. In my world, if you throw mud at me, I don’t just throw it back-I burn your entire house down with you inside it. When I was ten, our neighbor Mrs. Henderson accused me of stealing a package from her doorstep. I didn’t do it, but she told the whole street I was a thief. That night, I snuck into her backyard and blasted death metal through her garden speakers at three in the morning. She never said a bad word about me again. After I started my career, a colleague whispered that I only got promoted because I was sleeping with the female lead. At the annual gala, I played the hidden camera footage of him and that same boss moaning in the supply closet on a 50-foot loop. After that, people learned to keep my name out of their mouths. They called me crazy. Unhinged. A psycho. I didn’t give a damn. Then my family found me a fianc閑. Charlotte Ashford. Old money. Manhattan elite. The night before our wedding, she threw a pre-wedding party at some overpriced rooftop bar in Tribeca. I showed up because my father insisted. “The Ashfords are critical business partners, Vincent. Play nice.” Play nice. Right. I was nursing a whiskey when her “best friend” Ethan Lawrence-some trust fund brat who’d been orbiting Charlotte since prep school-decided to run his mouth. He leaned against Charlotte’s shoulder, smirking at me like we were sharing some inside joke. “Vincent, I heard your dad married into money. A real boy-toy situation, you know? And word is you’re just like him-living off women. Got dumped by some rich cougar before you latched onto our Charlie, right?” Charlotte’s friends erupted into laughter. Champagne glasses clinked. Eyes gleamed with malicious amusement, waiting to see if I’d crumble. I set down my glass. Picked up the empty bottle next to it. Then I smashed it against the edge of the bar. The sound cut through the music like a gunshot. Glass shards scattered across the marble floor. I pressed the jagged edge against Ethan’s cheek, close enough that he went pale. “Charlotte,” I said, not breaking eye contact with him. “You’ve got so many friends here. You won’t miss this one, right?” …… Charlotte’s face went ice-cold. She slapped my hand away hard enough that the bottle neck clattered to the floor. “Vincent, what the hell is wrong with you?” “It was a joke! Ethan was joking. Are you seriously this fragile?” Her friends piled on immediately. “Vincent, Charlotte’s doing you a favor by marrying you. Your family legacy would be nothing without the Ashfords. You should be grateful, not throwing tantrums.” “Ethan’s known Charlie since they were kids. They’re like family. You threatening him? That’s insane.” “You should learn how to tolerate your future wife-and her friends, Vincent. ” I laughed. Genuinely laughed. I bent down, picked up a shard of glass, and twirled it between my fingers. “Here’s the thing,” I said, my voice calm. “I’ve never had a sense of humor. Never learned to take a joke. So when people joke about me, I take them as the joke.” I locked eyes with Ethan, whose face had gone from smug to terrified. “For example, if someone says my father’s a gold digger, I’d be justified in assuming theirs was too. That they’re just a bastard child from an affair, swept under the rug to avoid scandal. Isn’t that right , Ethan?” Ethan’s body went rigid. Tears welled in his eyes instantly. Charlotte grabbed my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. “Vincent, you apologize to Ethan. Right now.” “Where do you get off saying something like that? Ethan’s father died saving my dad in a construction accident. My family took him in out of gratitude!” “Say one more word, and I’ll throw you out of here myself.” Ethan cowered behind her, playing the victim perfectly. “Charlie, don’t be mad at Vincent. Maybe I said the wrong thing… I’m sorry, Vincent. I shouldn’t have joked like that.” Her friends immediately turned on me. “Ethan apologized. What more do you want, Vincent? Besides, Ethan’s not wrong-we’ve all seen you getting out of different women’s cars. Who knows what you were doing in there?” “You’re marrying Charlotte tomorrow. Maybe tone down the psycho act? If you can’t handle some friendly banter, maybe don’t show up.” I was genuinely amused by these idiots. Before I came tonight, my father had given me his usual lecture: “The Ashfords are crucial partners, Vincent. This alliance benefits both families.” I tried to follow his advice, but honestly, they don’t treat me like a partner. This is truly regrettable,for them. I learned early on that backing down only makes you a target. The only way to survive is to be crazier, meaner, and more vicious than anyone else. If someone bites you, you don’t just bite back. You shatter their teeth and make them choke on the fragments. I slowly released the glass shard from my palm, letting it fall. “You’re right. Getting upset over something so trivial-that’s immature of me.” Their faces lit up with smug satisfaction. Charlotte’s expression softened slightly. She opened her mouth to say something conciliatory. I cut her off. “But if we’re talking about playing games…” I smiled. “I’m the best there is.” “You want to play? Let’s play. Come on. Let’s continue.”

I scanned the crowd of vultures circling for entertainment. Grabbed a glass and started pouring every liquor I could find into it. Whiskey, vodka, tequila, gin, rum-seven or eight different kinds, creating a toxic cocktail that looked like it could strip paint. “Here’s the game. Loser drinks this. Then answers one question from the winner-total honesty required.” “If you lie or refuse to answer, you drink three more.” One of Charlotte’s friends sneered. “Games need stakes, Vincent. What are you putting up? Or are you broke as well as boring?” I swirled the toxic mixture, my smile widening. Then I pulled out my black AmEx card and slammed it on the table. “Anyone who gets me to drink, even just one sip, will get my card with unlimited credit.” The room went dead silent. Charlotte’s face flushed with anger. “Vincent, enough. You think you can humiliate people just because you have money?” I ignored her. Kept my eyes locked on Ethan. “What’s wrong? Scared to play? You were so chatty a minute ago.” “Ethan. You’re up first.” Ethan’s eyes were glued to that black card like a starving man staring at a steak. He rolled the dice. I didn’t even look before I opened the cup. Six sixes. Ethan’s face went ghost-white. “Truth or dare,” I said. “Did your mother marry your father before or after you were born?” His body started trembling. “I… I choose dare!” I nodded slowly, sliding the toxic cocktail toward him. “Fair enough. Drink this. Then call your dad and tell him, on speaker, that Ethan’s father was the real gold digger.” Ethan broke instantly. “Charlie! I don’t want to! I don’t want to play anymore!” Pathetic. Two moves and I’d already peeled back his skin. Charlotte exploded. She shoved me hard. “Vincent, enough! Ethan’s young, he doesn’t know better. How can you be so cruel?” I actually laughed. Charlotte was too stupid to see manipulation even when it slapped her in the face. “When he was slandering my father and calling me a parasite, you didn’t say he was ‘young.’ Interesting double standard.” I stepped closer, voice dropping. “Charlotte, you’re protecting him so hard, people might think he’s your fianc?instead of me.” “Your ‘best friend’-is that code for fuck buddy?” Charlotte’s hand flew up to slap me. I didn’t dodge. Just stared at her. “Go ahead. Hit me.” “Let everyone see how the great Charlotte Ashford assaults her fianc?to defend some other man’s illegitimate son.” “Should I call your father? Let him know tomorrow’s wedding is off?” I pulled out my phone, thumb hovering over the contact. Charlotte panicked. She grabbed my phone and hurled it to the ground, shattering the screen. “Vincent, you’re being unreasonable!” “The wedding’s tomorrow. Go home and think about what you did. Don’t embarrass yourself-and me-at the ceremony.” She wrapped a protective arm around the still-whimpering Ethan and marched out. Her friends followed, throwing sneers and insults my way. I stood there, surrounded by broken glass and spilled liquor, and smiled. Perfect. Tomorrow, we’d see who the real joke was.

I got home and immediately grabbed my burner phone. Dialed a number I’d kept for emergencies. “I need everything on Ethan Lawrence. And I mean everything. His father’s death, his mother’s history, the Ashford connection-all of it.” “The dirtier, the better.” The voice on the other end chuckled. “Mr. Sterling, it’s your wedding eve. You sure you want to go nuclear?” “Less talking. Have it in my email by morning.” I hung up and stared at my reflection in the window. Charlotte. Ethan. You think this is over? You threw mud at me. Now I’m going to make you eat it-mixed with broken glass and blood. The next day was the so-called “wedding of the century.” Sterling and Ashford families united. Manhattan’s elite packed into the Plaza ballroom. My father cornered me in the groom’s suite. “Vincent, keep your temper in check today. This is your wedding.” “If you don’t want Charlotte, fine. You can live separately after. She’ll have the Sterling name, Just a nominal Mrs.Sterling.but you’ll have the real power. That’s what matters.” I gave him a tight smile. Said nothing. My temper wasn’t something I could turn on and off. It was a wildfire, and once lit, it consumed everything. As I stepped into the ballroom, my phone buzzed. It was a number I didn’t recognize I answered, and immediately, I knew something was wrong. And then I realized-maybe this is a good opportunity. Without hesitation, I synced my phone to the ballroom’s wireless speakers. Every guest in the room went silent as Ethan’s voice flooded the space. “Charlie… this is all my fault. If I hadn’t been so upset because you’re getting married tomorrow, we wouldn’t have… God, we shouldn’t have slept together.” “You’re getting married today. I gave you my virginity. What if Vincent finds out? What if he makes a scene?” Charlotte’s voice came through, soft and reassuring. “This isn’t your fault, Ethan. Vincent pushed you. It just… happened. We got carried away.” “If there’s a baby, I’ll keep it. I’ll raise it. Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” I walked calmly to the stage, picked up the microphone. “Sorry to interrupt, everyone.” “Looks like my bride has some unfinished business with her best friend.” Charlotte’s parents looked like they’d been struck by lightning. Her father roared toward the back rooms. “Charlotte! Get out here right now!” She emerged seconds later, still in her wedding gown, face pale with shock. When she realized what had happened, her eyes found mine across the room. Pure, venomous hatred. But with hundreds of witnesses staring at her, she had no choice. Her father slapped her. Hard. “Apologize to Vincent. Now. Or you’re no daughter of mine.” Charlotte’s voice was barely a whisper, choked with rage. “I’m sorry, Vincent. Ethan and I… it was a mistake. I swear I’ll never see him again.” She glared at me with such intensity I could feel it burning. I gave her my most charming smile. This alliance was dead anyway. I wasn’t marrying damaged goods. I opened my mouth to officially end this charade- When my phone buzzed. A photo. My mother. Bound with rope. Dangling from the edge of a rooftop. Every drop of blood drained from my face.

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Everyone in the elite circles knew—Julian loved playing twisted games. Every time he collected ten women, there had to be an elimination round. The ones who survived moved to the next level. Whoever won all one hundred rounds would become his wife. I had made it to round ninety-nine. I was ruthless enough. I’d played every single one of his games without making a sound. Julian’s gaze grew more appreciative each time. He even brought me into his world, making everyone call me “ma’am.” Just when I was about to become the victor, I saw something. Julian had Bella cornered outside the private room door. He was kissing her like his life depended on it. “The fifth bullet,” he whispered against her lips. “That’s the real one.” “Got it,” Bella breathed. — My heart clenched so hard I couldn’t breathe. But before I could process it, the game started. I watched Bella get the rigged turn order—second to shoot. If I kept playing, I would lose. I took a deep breath. Met Julian’s calm, empty eyes. “Hazel.” He swirled his wine glass. “Still want to play? You know I always make sure you win.” The room erupted in knowing laughter. His friends whistled. Their eyes darted between him and me. “Julian’s still got a soft spot for his girl. This round’s a done deal.” “New girl’s got guts challenging her. Doesn’t she know who Julian loves?” “Just quit now. Save yourself the embarrassment.” Bella sat across from us. Her body trembled. But she spoke up, stubborn. “I won’t quit. I want to play.” Julian’s eyes flashed with intrigue. “Interesting.” He smiled lazily at me. “Let’s make this quick, then. I’m looking forward to using the new sex toys with you tonight.” Pathetic. He’d already rigged it for Bella. And he still put on this act like he cared about me. My heart felt submerged in ice water. Numb. I looked up. Met his gaze. “Let’s begin.” I wanted to see if this man—who kept saying he’d let me win—would really watch me take the fall. — The game started. I drew first. Picked up the revolver. Pressed it to my chest. Pulled the trigger. Click. Empty. The room exhaled in relief. Some people even laughed. Bets were placed. Julian’s eyes gleamed. He chuckled softly. “Hazel, don’t worry. I’m always betting on you.” Bella went next. Her hands shook with fear, but she pulled the trigger without hesitation. Click. Empty. Third turn. Me again. Empty. But my heart raced faster. Because Julian said the fifth bullet was real. My whole body trembled. My eyes stung. My vision blurred. The first-turn card—Julian had arranged that too. He *wanted* me to lose. Bella fired the fourth shot. She knew it was safe, but she still whimpered like she was scared. The crowd laughed. “Just quit already. Kneel and apologize. Julian and his girl will let you go.” “Kid, this gun might not be real, but it still hurts like hell.” Bella didn’t back down. She pushed the gun toward me. My heart climbed into my throat. I stared at Julian. Waiting for him to stop this. But he just watched. A faint smile on his lips. No intention of stopping the rigged game. Time dragged on. Julian frowned. “Hazel, don’t be scared. You’ll be the winner. You always are.” My mouth twisted into a bitter smile. My hand shook as I raised the gun to my chest. Bang! The bullet slammed into me. It was rubber—non-lethal. But it still hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. Bella screamed. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would be like this!” Everyone stared at Julian. Faces pale. By the rules, whoever got shot lost. The winner would become Julian’s bride. “Julian, this is—” Julian stood slowly. Looked down at Bella. His voice was ice-cold. “No problem. A deal’s a deal.” He bent down. Scooped Bella into his arms. His movements were steady. Possessive. He scanned the room. His voice cut through the silence. “Hazel, you lost. I’m disappointed. But you’re still the only queen in my heart.” Bella flinched in his arms. But when she looked at me, her eyes flashed with triumph. My chest throbbed. Julian carried Bella toward the door. He didn’t look back at me. Not even once.

The moment his figure disappeared, my tears finally broke free. The game was never fair. Whoever he loved would win. Now I was not the one he loved anymore. I wiped my eyes. Grabbed the wine glass on the table. Drank it all in one go. Outside, I clutched my aching chest. My hands shook as I dialed a number. “You want to get married? Fine. I agree. See you at the wedding in seven days.” — When I got home, I took several painkillers. I’d survived ninety-nine rounds. My body could handle pain. But today, for some reason, it hurt more than usual. I stared at the wedding photo on the wall. By round ninety-nine, Julian had already taken me to get wedding photos done. I’d laughed and asked if that broke the rules. He’d smirked. “My game. My rules. And you’re always the reason I break them.” But now, for someone else, he’d not only broken the rules—he’d watched me get shot like some kind of clown. That night, Julian didn’t come home. I saw the video Bella sent me. Julian with Bella. In every corner of his most luxurious mansion. Evidence of their passion everywhere. The rare black pearl he’d bought me last month at auction? He had it in his mouth now. Rolling it over Bella’s skin. Making her scream. Julian looked feral with lust. I had never seen him like that. “Hazel, you see how addicted he is to me. If you know what’s good for you, leave.” I stared at the message. My fingers went white gripping my phone. I forced the tears back. — When I’d first met Julian, my Nana had just been diagnosed with severe heart disease. We couldn’t afford the hospital bills. Julian appeared like a god. Paid Nana’s fees. Handed me a ticket to the elimination games. He looked at me like prey. A smile on his lips. “It’s just a game. Play it right, and you’ll only benefit.” Even though I wasn’t part of the elite world, I’d heard the rumors. Julian was twisted. He held these games because the woman he loved had betrayed him years ago. After that, he stopped believing in love. He played with emotions for fun. Wanted to see how far women would go to marry him. But I took the ticket anyway. I needed money. I needed to save Nana’s life. — In the game, Julian called himself the King. Sat on his throne. Watched countless women fight for the role of Queen. I gritted my teeth through ninety-nine rounds. Extreme bungee jumping. Locked in a box with snakes. Holding my breath underwater for seven minutes. Eating live spiders. Things that made others scream and break down—I endured them all in silence. One game involved skydiving. A competitor grabbed the only parachute. Slashed my arm with a knife. Left me stranded. The plane hovered over the ocean. In my despair, a crackling voice came through my earpiece. Julian’s voice. Amused. “You’ve won over forty rounds. Didn’t think you’d die here. Any last words?” I closed my eyes. “Transfer the medical fees to my Nana’s account.” I heard his low laugh through the static. Then I jumped. — When they pulled me out, I was in the ICU. Julian came to see me later. His eyes dark. “I’m counting this as a win for you. I changed my mind. The rule was whoever’s boldest wins.” “Still want to play? If you quit now, you get a hundred million.” When he said it, his smile was self-mocking. His eyes, lonely. Something in my heart stirred. I didn’t answer. Just pulled him into a hug. Julian froze. Then, suddenly, he looked overjoyed. He grabbed the back of my head and kissed me deeply. “Hazel, from now on, you’re mine. I’ll give you everything.” He threw money at me. Bought me mansions. Gave me ten percent of his company’s shares. Brought me into his world. Made people call me “ma’am.” Even when his old flame came back—tried to humiliate me publicly, begged him to come back—he didn’t hesitate. He smashed a bottle over the woman’s head. Then he said, “Anyone else want to insult my queen? Step forward.” Julian’s favoritism made everyone think I was special. Made *me* think I was special. That I could make him believe in love again. But tonight, I finally understood. It was all in my head.

I turned off my phone. Sat alone in the empty mansion all night. By morning, I heard the lock turn. Julian came home. His expensive suit reeked of someone else’s perfume. The hickeys on his neck were impossible to miss. He saw me sitting stiffly on the couch. He paused. Rubbed his head, annoyed. “Hazel, don’t tell me you stayed up all night waiting for me.” My voice came out hoarse. “Are you going to shower?” Julian froze. Looked at my pale face. My bloodshot eyes. He frowned. Tossed his jacket aside. But there was a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He walked over. Tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. “I know. You’re upset because you lost the game.” “Winners and losers—that’s the rule. According to the rules, this was round one hundred. Bella won. I should marry her.” He paused. Pulled a million-dollar pink diamond ring from his pocket. Kissed my neck. “But you’re mine. I’m letting you play one more round. You can take back the crown. This is my gift to you.” “So next time, make sure you win.” Win? I wanted to laugh. I’d had a fifty-fifty chance. He was the one who handed my crown to Bella. The rules were clear. Whoever won the final round would become his wife. Bella won. This ring was just a consolation prize. Julian seemed to remember something. His eyes glinted with challenge. He smirked. “What, Hazel? Not happy? You used to fight tooth and nail to win me over.” He expected me to cry. To yell. Like all the women he’d eliminated before. But I just looked up. My voice calm. Like I was talking about someone else. “No. I don’t care.” “Julian, starting now, I’m quitting the game.” Julian’s expression froze. “Not playing? Say that again.” I lifted my head. Met his gaze without flinching. “Julian, I’m done with your game.” “I’ll leave you. I won’t cling to you. You can be with Bella in peace.” Julian’s breath hitched. He grabbed my arms. But then his phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered. Whatever the person said made him explode. “Touch her and I’ll kill you all!” He hung up. His eyes went dark. He grabbed my wrist so hard. “Ow! Julian, what are you—” He dragged me to the car without a word. His voice was ice. “Get in. Now. Look what you’ve done.” — I stumbled. He shoved me into the car. Julian drove like a maniac. Didn’t say a word the whole way. We reached an abandoned warehouse. I froze. Bella was tied up. Blood at the corner of her mouth. Julian rushed over. Untied her. Pulled her into his arms. His eyes were red. “Bella, don’t be scared. I won’t let anything happen to you.” Bella clung to him. Sobbing. Then she looked at me. “Miss Hazel, if you don’t want me near Julian, I can leave. But why did you have to send people to hurt me?” I took a deep breath. Looked only at Julian. “Julian, I didn’t send anyone. Do you believe me?” Julian held Bella protectively. But when he looked at me, his eyes were full of disappointment. Disgust. “She’s an orphan. She doesn’t cause trouble. Who else would hurt her except you—jealous because she won?” “If you can’t handle losing, Hazel, you’re the one who can’t play the game.” My fists clenched. My nails dug into my palms. “Julian, I said I didn’t do it!” “Julian…” Bella’s voice was barely a whisper. “I’m okay. I don’t blame Hazel. She just loves you too much.” Julian sneered. Turned to leave with Bella in his arms. But he called over security guards. “The new queen was bullied by the old one. The old queen needs to be punished.”

The guards were professionals. They immediately twisted my arms behind my back. “Mr. Voss, how should we punish her?” Julian glanced at me. Then softly asked Bella, “You decide. You’re my new queen.” My heart shattered again. After every elimination round, Julian used to give *me* the power to punish the losers. I was soft-hearted. I always just told them to leave Julian alone. No punishment. But now, Bella put on an innocent face. Her lips curled into a cruel smile. “Julian, I don’t really know the rules. Whatever punishment was used before—let’s use that now.” Julian understood immediately. He looked at me. Tried to read my expression. But all he saw was dead silence. His anger flared. He held Bella tighter. Spoke through gritted teeth. “Didn’t you hear the queen’s order?” — I was dragged into the mansion. Pinned to the floor. They whipped me with salt-water-soaked leather. In the next room, Julian and Bella were tangled together. Their moans mixed with my screams. The sounds filled the entire house. My skin split open. But my heart hurt more. I remembered the day in the hospital. When we’d kissed deeply. Confirmed our feelings. Julian had wanted to stop the game then. Didn’t want me to get hurt anymore. But the elite players had bet hundreds of millions on the game. It wasn’t just Julian’s anymore. They wouldn’t let it stop until the final round. Julian had held me. Eyes red. “Hazel, I promise. From now on, I’ll never let you lose.” And I’d lived up to that. Fought with everything I had in every round. Of course, some competitors hated me. Teamed up to cheat. Tried to kill me. But I, fueled by my love for Julian, always found a way to survive. Always ended up in his arms, victorious. Those women who’d schemed against me? They were tied up just like this. Forced to listen to Julian and me all night. But now, it was my turn. Julian had finally let me get hurt. They went at it all night. At dawn, Julian came out in a bathrobe. I heard him say, “Call my doctor. Treat her properly. Don’t let her die.” I lost consciousness. — When I woke up, I was on the couch. Julian’s jacket draped over me. “You’re awake? Mr. Voss took Miss Bella to the victory gala. He said to get dressed and meet them there.” The butler’s face was neutral as he relayed the orders. My voice was raspy. I grabbed my bag. “Sorry, I need to go to the hospital. My Nana’s having surgery today. Julian knows this.” Julian had been the one to find Nana’s heart donor. It was my reward for passing round ninety-nine. But the butler had security grab me before I could leave. “What are you doing? I said I’m not going! Julian knows—today is Nana’s heart transplant!” I fought back. But my bones screamed in pain. The guards forced me into a dress. Didn’t even let me take my phone. Shoved me into the car. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Julian used to go with me to visit Nana every month. But today, he broke his promise. For another woman. To celebrate a stolen victory. — At the gala, Julian and Bella were already there. So were all the elite players. I wore a backless dress. My wounds were on full display. People whispered. Julian’s eyes darkened. He walked over with his arm around Bella’s waist. “Hazel, today’s about celebrating Bella’s win. As a former competitor, you should congratulate her. But you came empty-handed. Are you trying to embarrass her?” Bella bit her lip. “Maybe she thinks I didn’t deserve to win. After all, she won the first ninety-nine rounds.” I cut through the act. Stared straight at Julian. “I already quit. I don’t have to congratulate her. Julian, today is Nana’s surgery. Let me go.” Julian’s face flashed with surprise. Then it darkened. “On such a good day, you want to bring up something depressing?” My chest ached. “What do I have to do for you to let me leave?” “What do you have to do?” Julian’s eyes glinted. He kissed Bella in front of me. “Let my new queen decide.” Bella pretended to think. Then she grinned. “How about Hazel strips naked, kneels in front of me, and barks like a dog three times?” My breath stopped. I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. And then Julian laughed softly. “Fine.”

I stared at him. “Julian, what if I refuse?” Julian’s smile was cold. Mocking. “When have you ever had the right to say no to me?” He signaled his friends. They all started shouting. “Didn’t you hear the lady? Get on your knees! Bark!” “You lost everything. And you still think you can negotiate with Julian?” These were the same people who used to call me “ma’am.” Now they’d all turned on me. Became Bella’s cheerleaders. My heart clenched. Went numb. Security guards stood behind me like a wall. I couldn’t escape. Julian was unpredictable. If I resisted, it would take even longer. And I needed to see Nana. Right now, dignity didn’t matter. “I hope you keep your word. After I do this, let me go.” My voice broke. Slowly, I undressed. Got on the floor. The room gasped. Woof! The first bark. Laughter exploded around me. I swallowed my tears. Barked again. Someone kicked me. The third bark came out. Julian’s voice cut through the noise. “Enough.” “Get her out of here.” — I sobbed as I grabbed my clothes. Threw them on. Stumbled out of the room. It was pouring rain outside. I finally flagged down a car. Rushed to the hospital. I burst into Nana’s room. Empty. I searched frantically. Then I saw the operating room doors open. A doctor wheeled out a body covered in a white sheet. A hand hung from under it, wearing the silver bracelet I’d given Nana. My blood turned to ice. “Nana!” I screamed. Threw myself at the body. The doctor sighed deeply. “I’m sorry. We did everything we could. She wanted to see you one last time. We tried calling, but your phone was off. We had no choice but to proceed with the surgery…” I couldn’t hear the rest. The world spun. I collapsed. — When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. A nurse came in to adjust my IV. She looked worried. “Miss, I know you just lost someone you love. But you need to take care of yourself. Especially now that you’re pregnant.” The words hit like a hammer. “What did you say?” My voice shook. “I’m pregnant?” “Yes. You’re three months along. Haven’t you noticed anything?” My hand trembled as I touched my stomach. I’d once imagined marrying Julian. Having his child. But it had to happen now. When he didn’t love me anymore. The door opened. Julian walked in. Holding half a piece of cake. “Hazel, you embarrassed me today.” His voice was cold. Accusing. “Bella felt bad that you didn’t eat. She saved you some cake.” My hatred surged. The mangled cake looked like a slap to my face. “You didn’t stay with Nana. You came here to fake being sick just to get my attention?” “GET OUT!” I grabbed the cup on the table. Threw it at his face. Julian dodged. His eyes flashed dark. “Ungrateful. You’re nothing compared to Bella.” He turned. Slammed the door. My pain and grief finally broke free. I sobbed uncontrollably.

For days, Julian paraded Bella around. Showered her with affection. I handled Nana’s funeral alone. The day of the burial, the sky was thick with clouds. Rain poured down. Meanwhile, Julian was at an auction. Bidding on a rare diamond for Bella. I returned to Julian’s mansion. Packed all my things. Took my suitcase to a small rental apartment. When Julian realized I wasn’t at the mansion, he called. Demanded to know where I was. I didn’t answer his question. Just said, “Julian, the game’s over. We have nothing to do with each other anymore.” — One day later, Julian found me. He looked at my tiny apartment. Wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Hazel, you’re living in this dump? You want to leave me this badly? This is just playing hard to get.” My face was cold. “None of your business. Get out.” But Julian’s eyes narrowed. He had security restrain me. “Let’s go. Bella wants to take you to an auction.” — I fought, but I was no match for the guards. They brought me to a massive private estate. Underground, there was an auction hall. The owner kept a giant python. He held events where the wealthy watched it feed. Bella was already there in an elegant gown. “Hazel, they’re doing a python feeding show. But I think it’s boring.” On stage, a cage held a thirteen-foot golden python. It was tearing into a chunk of bloody meat. “You won ninety-nine rounds. Handling a snake should be easy for you, right? Julian, I want to see Hazel tame the python.” My blood ran cold. The tiny life in my stomach seemed to sense danger. It trembled. “Are you insane? This could kill someone!” Julian looked at my pale face. For a moment, his eyes softened. He leaned close to my ear. His voice coaxing. “Hazel, you know what I hate most about you? You’re too stubborn. If you’d just acted weak, I would’ve let you win.” “I’m giving you one more chance. Beg me. And I’ll make sure you win the final round.” But I just stared at him. My eyes dead. I let out a hollow laugh. “Julian, my biggest regret is joining your game in the first place.” Julian’s face twisted. Bella chimed in, her voice sickly sweet. “How can you be so ungrateful? Julian’s giving you a chance. If I were you, I’d be so thankful. If you don’t play, it just means you don’t really love him.” Julian’s eyes flashed with rage. He shoved me hard. Spoke through clenched teeth. “Put her in.”

Security threw me into the cage. The python saw me. Treated me like prey. Its body tensed. It slithered toward me, tongue flicking. “Ahh!” I tried to dodge. But the snake wrapped around my leg. “Julian, please! Let me out!” My scream was piercing. “I’m pregnant!” But the crowd was too loud. No one could hear me. Julian frowned slightly. Tried to make out what I was saying. But Bella hooked her arms around his neck. Whispered in his ear. “Julian, she looks like she’s having so much fun. I want to play too. Let’s go backstage…” Julian’s throat bobbed. Without hesitation, he scooped Bella up. Carried her toward the back. — I had been bitten multiple times. The python coiled tighter around my body. Started to squeeze. I couldn’t break free. I was suffocating. My face turned purple. “Ahhh!” Finally, I let out a blood-curdling scream. The audience realized something was wrong. “Oh my God, the snake’s gone feral!” “That woman’s bleeding—call an ambulance!” — When I regained consciousness, I was in a hospital bed. My lower abdomen burned with tearing pain. I threw off the blanket. My stomach was flat. The baby was gone. My blood felt frozen. A wave of unbearable grief crashed over me. I screamed. Nana was already gone. This baby had been my only family left in the world. Why? Why did Julian have to kill my child? Why did he take away my last shred of hope? “No!” — The door opened. Julian walked in. His face was flushed from sex. Fresh hickeys covered his neck. He glanced at me dismissively. A hint of mockery in his voice. “I heard you got your period. That’s why you were sent to the hospital?” “Hazel, this isn’t like you. You survived ninety-nine rounds. You’ve never been this dramatic before.” I took a deep breath. Ignored the pain. Stood up. Then I used every ounce of strength I had and slapped him across the face. “Julian, I hope you rot in hell.”

The madness in my eyes made Julian freeze. He ran his tongue over his cheek. His eyes darkened. He grabbed my wrist. “Have I been too lenient with you lately?” But then his phone rang. His expression changed. “Bella, I’m on my way. Don’t be scared.” “Bella’s stomach hurts. I need to go. And I canceled the lease on your new apartment. Stay here and behave.” He left without looking back. I stared after him. Frozen. Then I made a call. My voice shaking. “Before you come get me, I need you to help me stage something.” “Make it believable. I need him to think I’m dead.” — I hung up. A message popped up on my phone. Bella, curled up in Julian’s arms, her fingers tracing circles on his chest. “Hazel, see? Even when you’re hurt by a snake, one word from me and Julian leaves you behind.” “He doesn’t love you. Even after you almost died for him, he only loves me. You’re pathetic.” I gripped my phone so hard it hurt. Tears blurred the screen. — Hospital security guards blocked the exits. I had nowhere to go. I stayed in the bed. Every time I closed my eyes, I had nightmares. I dreamed of the ninety-nine brutal games. Julian’s cold gaze. Nana dying in a hospital bed. The baby I never got to meet. — A day later, Julian came back with Bella. “Hazel, are you okay?” Bella’s voice was fake-sweet. “Julian really cares about you. Even though you’re like this, he still wants me to compete with you fairly one more time.” “If you don’t play, it means you don’t really love Julian. That you don’t want him at all…” This time, I turned. Looked straight at them. “Fine. I’ll play.” Julian’s eyes lit up for a split second. Bella froze. Hadn’t expected me to agree so easily. Hatred flickered in her gaze, but her voice stayed soft. “I’m happy to compete fairly. But this time, I get to decide the rules.” Julian stroked her head affectionately. “Of course. You won last time.” Bella’s smile turned vicious when Julian wasn’t looking. “Last time we played Russian roulette, you lost. You must’ve been so frustrated.” “So this time, let’s play with a gun again. How about it?” My expression stayed eerily calm. I nodded. “Fine.” “Then it’s settled.” Bella’s eyes gleamed with calculation. “Julian, let’s go prepare. We shouldn’t disturb Hazel while she rests.” Julian felt a flicker of unease he couldn’t explain. But Bella pulled him away before he could think about it. — The next night, we were brought to a cliffside. A table. Two chairs. A black handgun sat in the center. The barrel gleamed cold in the moonlight. Bella and I took our seats on opposite sides. Julian’s Bentley pulled up. He stepped out slowly. Sat in a luxurious throne-like chair. A bodyguard held champagne beside him. “When the game ends,” he said softly, his gaze drifting between Bella and me, “I’ll announce on the spot that I’m marrying the winner.” “Now. Begin.”

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The engagement party was in full swing when my fiance’s childhood friend Zoe arrived carrying a velvet box. “I brought you something special, Harper,” she purred, her voice sticky-sweet. Out of politeness, I opened the box. Inside were chocolate-covered cannoli. I took one bite. Then another. Something was wrong. The texture. The taste. Zoe and her friends burst into hysterical laughter. “This stupid bitch can’t even taste fingernails,” one of them shrieked. My stomach turned inside out. Shock. Rage. I didn’t think. I reached into my clutch and pulled out the small silver pistol I always carried. A Beretta .22. In our Mafia world, only women of high status are allowed to carry handguns. How dare she play with me? I pressed the cold barrel against Zoe’s temple. The room gasped. Zoe froze, her smile dying. “Harper—” she whispered. Before I could pull the trigger, my fiance Liam’s hand shot out. He grabbed my wrist and twisted it viciously. The gun clattered across the marble floor. Then his hand cracked across my face. The slap echoed through the ballroom. I stumbled backward, my cheek burning. Zoe sobbed dramatically. “Liam, she tried to kill me! She’s insane!” Liam looked at me with pure disgust. “Harper. Are you out of your fucking mind?” “It’s just a joke!” I spat blood onto the white marble. “A joke? She put fingernails in my food and made me eat them in front of everyone!” Liam’s eyes went cold. “So what? You’re not dead, are you?” “Stop being dramatic.” Something inside me shattered. My heart. My hope. My love. All of it turned to ice. I pulled out my phone and texted a number I’d saved months ago: “The wedding is ready. I need a new bridegroom. Not Liam. Just come. I’ll marry you.” It was just an arranged marriage between Liam and me; I didn’t necessarily have to choose that bastard Liam as my fiance! — The room had gone silent. Everyone stared. Liam helped Zoe to her feet. She was still crying, milking every second. “Harper hurt me!” she wailed, though there wasn’t a mark on her face. Liam didn’t even check if she was hurt. He just believed her. Without warning, he slapped me right on my left face. Liam was ex-military. Former Special Forces turned boss of a small mob. Was he serious now? I was a Mafia princess, and my dad would let him pay for this! The blow knocked the air from my lungs. I flew backward into the champagne tower. Glass exploded. Champagne soaked my dress. Shards cut into my arms, my back, my legs. Blood mixed with wine on the white marble floor. “Have you lost your mind?” Liam stood over me, towering. His face was twisted with rage. “Zoe put some fingernails in a cannoli. It was a prank. A fucking prank.” “You pull a gun on her? She’s not a woman from the Mafia world! Not as cruel and disgusting as you!” I stared up at him from the broken glass. He knew this beforehand?

Of course he knew. And he said I was disgusting? The nausea was replaced by something worse. Heartbreak. I started gagging. Retching. Tears streamed down my face. I couldn’t control it. Zoe watched me with satisfaction. Liam looked disgusted. “Look at you. Acting like Zoe murdered your mother. When will you stop playing the victim?” Zoe suddenly clutched her chest. “Liam, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset Harper so badly. I’ll slap myself. I deserve it.” She raised her hand to her own face. Liam caught her wrist. “Don’t. You did nothing wrong. She’s just oversensitive.” I laughed. A bitter, broken sound. I spat more blood and struggled to my feet. Glass fell from my dress. “You call putting fingernails in food and making me eat them in public a ‘small prank’? She humiliated me! Liam, don’t forget who I am! You begged my father to marry me to you! Don’t you need my father’s connections to help your gang’s business?” For a second, Liam’s expression flickered. Maybe he understood. But then Zoe clutched her head and whimpered. “My head… Liam, it hurts so much… I think she gave me a concussion…” Liam’s face darkened. He jabbed his finger at me. “Harper. You tried to murder Zoe in front of the entire family. Are you trying to embarrass me? Everyone’s watching.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “If you care about my reputation at all, you’ll kneel down right now and beg Zoe for forgiveness.” “Kneel for her!” “Then maybe I’ll forget this happened.” My heart turned to stone. Zoe spoke up again, her voice saccharine. “Liam, even if Harper bows, everyone will know you forced her.” “How about this—make her eat all the cannoli.” “Then everyone will see how forgiving she is.” Liam’s eyes lit up. “Perfect.” He snapped his fingers. “Hold her down.” Four of his men grabbed me. They forced me to my knees on the blood-soaked floor. Liam pried open my jaw. He shoved cannoli after cannoli into my mouth. I choked. I gagged. I couldn’t breathe. But he didn’t stop. Not until the box was empty. Finally, he released me. I collapsed on the floor, vomiting. Liam stood over me, his voice cold and emotionless. “You embarrassed Zoe. You ruined my night.” “I don’t feel like marrying you today.” “Starting tomorrow, you’ll kneel in our room. Every day.” “When I’ve forgiven you, we’ll talk about the wedding.” He turned to leave with Zoe on his arm. I forced myself to speak. “Liam.” He stopped. “If you’re going to protect that woman over me, then this marriage is off.” “Forever.”

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