Author: Momo Chan

Roger Quinn, the man I had secretly loved for years, was about to announce his engagement to my younger sister. Summoning all my courage, I returned to Beltown to confess my feelings. The room erupted with laughter at my audacity. “Look at her,” someone sneered, “a bastard child trying to climb the social ladder.” But they didn’t know. When I was eighteen, Roger had kissed me, a moment so tender it had lingered in my heart ever since. And they definitely didn’t know the truth that I wasn’t the illegitimate daughter. Lisa was. I stood my ground, forcing myself to look Roger in the eye and demand an answer. “I thought you were Lisa back then,” he said coldly. “I’m not interested in you.” Lisa nestled into his arms, her smug smile like salt in an open wound. I bit back the tears, forcing a bitter smile. “In that case, I wish you both all the happiness in the world.” Then I turned and walked away, dialing the number of the wealthy godmother. “I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll leave Beltown and marry your son.” On the day of my wedding, Roger had called off his engagement to Lisa. He asked me if I could give him another chance. I glanced at him briefly, then turned to my fiancé, tightening my hold on his arm. “Sorry,” I said lightly, my tone indifferent. “I’m not interested in you anymore.”

When I returned from Cletown unannounced, the entire room froze in shock. Roger and my half-sister, Lisa, were in the middle of discussing their engagement. Leona Quinn’s face twisted in discomfort, though she forced a smile. “How long are you planning to stay?” I set my suitcase down and answered directly, “I’m not going back to Cletown. I’m planning to find a job here.” The room erupted into murmurs, the air suddenly heavy with tension. The looks my relatives gave me changed instantly, filled with disdain and derision. Someone sneered, “After what you did back then, you’ve still got the nerve to show your face here?” Another muttered, “Ungrateful brat. The Quinn family took you in, and this is how you repay them? Trying to climb up to Roger?” Silence settled over the room like a thick fog. They weren’t wrong. I had come back to ruin the engagement. Summoning all my courage, I stepped toward Roger, my heart pounding in my chest. “Roger,” I said, my voice trembling, “I like you.” Roger’s expression remained calm as if I were nothing more than a naive child. Lisa rose from her seat, her eyes welling with tears. “If Mirea likes Roger too,” she said softly, “then maybe we shouldn’t get engaged.” Roger finally spoke, his voice cold and measured, “Mirea, stop this nonsense. I don’t feel anything for you.” He didn’t feel anything for me? I stared at him, my composure cracking. “Then why were you so furious when I dated someone before?” “You were too young. As your guardian, it was my responsibility to keep you from making mistakes.” “And the kiss? When I turned eighteen, you came into my room in the middle of the night and kissed me. Was that nothing? Don’t tell me it was a mistake.” Roger’s face didn’t waver. “I was drunk. It was just a kiss; it didn’t mean anything.” I let out a bitter laugh. “And what about the family heirloom bracelet? You gave it to me. Was that ‘just nothing’ too?” “That was to make you happy,” he replied, his tone flat, devoid of emotion. It felt like a wall inside me collapsed. This gamble, this desperate, reckless bet, was a resounding loss. Then Roger added, “If the bracelet caused a misunderstanding, you should return it. I’ll need it back now that I’m getting married.” I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from crying. “Fine,” I whispered. Lisa pouted, tugging on his sleeve. “It’s just a bracelet, Roger. If Mirea likes it so much, let her have it.” The man who had doted on me pulled her close, his voice soft. “No, what’s yours is yours.” Lisa leaned into him, her face glowing with triumph. “It’s just a formality. As long as I have your heart, nothing else matters.” The way he gazed at her, tender and adoring, was exactly how he used to look at me. I stood there in a daze as the room erupted into cruel laughter. “She has no shame, asking something like that.” “They never should’ve let Roger take her in. Look at the mess now.” “Exactly. No wonder her parents didn’t want her. She deserves it.” Even though I had prepared for the worst, the words still stung. Leona couldn’t take it anymore and dragged me aside, her voice a sharp whisper. “What were you thinking? If you had to come back, fine, but why make things so awkward for everyone? “Roger practically raised you. Sure, he’s not your biological uncle, but he treated you like you were the center of his world. “And Lisa is your sister. How could you be so jealous of her happiness that you’d try to tear them apart?” She was right. Roger wasn’t my real uncle. He had taken me in as a child, and I had loved him in secret for seven years. But was it my fault? He was the one who gave me hope, time and time again.

The whispers around me pulled at the dark threads of my past, dragging back memories I’d rather forget. I was Lisa’s half-sister, sharing the same father but not the same life. She was born into the Bentley family as their beloved princess, showered with love and privilege. I, on the other hand, was the outcast. It all started with Hugo Bentley, the man who had promised my mother the world. She fell in love with him, only to find herself pregnant. He convinced her to keep the baby, promising they would marry. But he kept delaying the wedding, and when I was four, he turned his back on us completely, marrying a wealthy debutante instead. The day Hugo wed the Quinn family heiress, my mother showed up at their grand estate with me in her arms, desperate for justice. Instead, she was branded a homewrecker and pelted with eggs. Shielding me with her body, she endured every insult and slur hurled her way. From that day on, she was a pariah in Beltown, a walking scandal whispered about behind every closed door. She could no longer bear the humiliation. A year later, when I was five, she took her own life by jumping from our apartment window. My existence became a thorn in Hugo’s side, an embarrassment he couldn’t ignore. Reluctantly, he brought me into his mansion, but he treated me like a ghost, neither acknowledging me nor caring whether I lived or died. Roger, who lived next door, saw me for the lonely child I was and took me in. He gave me a new name, Mirea Quinn, erasing my ties to the Bentley family. To the world, I was now “Ms. Quinn,” no longer the unwanted daughter of a disgraced mother. Roger raised me with care and affection, spoiling me as if I were his own. He nurtured me, shaping me into someone more elegant and poised than Lisa could ever be. I didn’t know when my admiration for him shifted into something deeper. Somewhere along the way, I fell in love with my handsome and kind “uncle.” In high school, suitors came in droves, but I turned them all down. My deskmate, Laura, once asked if I liked anyone. Unable to contain my secret, I confessed my feelings for Roger. What I planned to keep buried forever was dragged into the light at my 18th birthday party. Somehow, Lisa had gotten hold of a recording of my conversation with Laura. She played it for everyone to hear, the words echoing like a cruel joke: “I think I might be in love with Roger.” My cheeks burned as I stammered out an explanation, but Roger said nothing. Instead, he told me to go to my room and rest. The rumors that followed engulfed him like wildfire. Ken, Roger’s grandfather, was furious. He demanded that Roger send me away to avoid further scandal. Roger refused. He defied the family for my sake, even at the cost of being stripped of his position as CEO. I couldn’t bear to see him suffer, so I changed my university application. Late at night, I knocked on his door, telling him not to worry. “I’ve already applied to a university down south,” I said. “I’ll leave soon. You won’t have to worry about me anymore.” His room reeked of alcohol. He said nothing as he stepped closer, his breath hot and heavy, before losing control and kissing me. That kiss seared itself into my memory, a moment I clung to even as I moved thousands of miles away. For four years, I stayed away, never once returning to Beltown. But I couldn’t stop thinking about him, replaying that night over and over. I thought he liked me. When I heard about his engagement to Lisa, I rushed home and demanded an answer. But it turned out I was just a joke. That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, my mind refusing to rest. By two in the morning, I gave up on sleep and went to the wine cellar for a drink. Passing by Roger’s room, I heard faint voices, a woman’s soft, coquettish murmur. “Come closer,” he said. “Didn’t seeing her like that make you feel the slightest bit guilty?” Lisa asked. “What’s there to feel guilty about?” Roger’s voice was calm, even dismissive. “When I took her in, it was purely to strengthen the Quinn family’s alliances. Once we’re married, I’ll find a suitable match for her and send her on her way.” The string I had been clinging to so tightly snapped. I stood frozen outside the door, each second stretching into an eternity. Everything I had believed, the warmth that had carried me through my darkest days, it was all a lie. To him, I was nothing more than a pawn, a tool to be used and discarded. For the first time, I felt an overwhelming urge to leave the Quinn family behind, no matter what it took.

I didn’t know when I had fallen asleep, but by the time I opened my eyes, the sun was already high in the sky. I packed my bags, along with the gifts Roger had given me over the years, including the bracelet. Hesitating for a moment, I walked to his door and knocked. It was Lisa who answered. She stood there in a deep V-neck dress, her neck and collarbone covered in fresh kiss marks. Seeing me, she tilted her head with a smile and stepped aside. “Roger, Mirea’s here to see you.” The events of the previous day played in my mind, and whatever lingering attachment I had for him vanished. I handed the bracelet and other items to Lisa, dragging my suitcase as I turned to leave. I hadn’t even reached the stairs when Roger called out behind me, “Where are you going?” I turned, my voice calm and detached. “I’m moving out. I won’t trouble you anymore.” He stared at me in silence for a few seconds before replying in an indifferent tone, “Then let’s have dinner together tonight. Consider it a welcome for your return. Let’s not dwell on yesterday. We’re still family.” I didn’t want to go, but then I thought about all he had done for me over the years. Whatever his feelings for me now, I owed him my life. If not for Roger, I might have died of neglect in that cold Bentley Villa. This would be our last meal together before we moved on with our separate lives. At least it was a peaceful ending. “Alright,” I murmured softly, then turned and walked down the stairs. After checking into a hotel, I buried myself under the covers and slept like the dead. At 5 PM, Roger texted me the restaurant’s location. I got up, washed, and applied some light makeup. When I entered the private dining room, I saw a group of familiar faces waiting for me. Lisa greeted me with a glass of wine, her tone overly sweet as she apologized, “Mirea, I’m sorry. Let me toast you to make up for yesterday.” Before I could respond, Roger reached over and took the glass from her. “Lisa’s pregnant; she shouldn’t be drinking,” he said flatly. “And if anyone should apologize, it’s me for letting you misunderstand. I’ll drink this on her behalf.” I stared at the two of them, their performance making me feel strangely hollow. So while I had agonized over whether or not to confess, he had already started a family with someone else. Those moments I had once clung to, were they really just meaningless signals I had misinterpreted? The realization left me feeling like a fool. It was no wonder people laughed at me. Sensing my silence, the atmosphere grew awkward. Roger’s friends quickly stepped in, showering Lisa with compliments and defending her at every turn. Feeling suffocated, I excused myself and went to the restroom. I wondered if coming to this dinner had been a mistake. Perhaps I should make up an excuse and leave early. As I debated, voices drifted in from outside the restroom. “Lisa, why are you even bothering to appease Mirea? Why invite her out at all? “And you’re pregnant! Aren’t you worried she’ll try to seduce Roger?” Lisa’s voice, though hushed, was perfectly audible. “What’s there to worry about? The baby isn’t even Roger’s.” She continued, her tone dripping with malice. “Besides, the more magnanimous I act, the pettier she looks. Roger will hate her even more.” Then, with a sneer, she added, “Her mother was no better, stealing my father like the shameless woman she was.” I couldn’t take it anymore. My foot slammed into the restroom door, flinging it open. “Why are you doing this to him? He loves you!” I shouted. Lisa jumped, startled, but quickly recovered, her expression twisting into mockery. “Why? Because seeing you miserable makes me happy. Everything you want, I’ll take it all.” Before I knew it, my hand lashed out, striking her across the face. She stared at me in shock, her cheek flaming red, before rushing back to the dining room. By the time I returned, she was sitting beside Roger, tears glistening in her eyes as she touched her face. “What happened to your cheek?” Roger asked. Before Lisa could answer, Laura jumped in. “Mirea slapped her.” Roger’s cold gaze pinned me where I stood. “Why did you hit her?” Lisa sniffled pitifully, her voice trembling. “Roger, it’s just a misunderstanding. Please don’t blame her.” Without even attempting to hear my side of the story, Roger moved to her side and demanded I apologize. The suffocating weight of it all crushed any remaining desire I had to stay. I stared at him coldly, grabbed my bag, and made for the door. But Lisa wasn’t done. She lunged after me, grabbing at my arm. I yanked free and quickened my pace, wanting no part of her antics. Behind me, there was a loud crash. Lisa had tripped over a table leg, landing heavily on the ground. Her screams of pain echoed through the room as blood began to pool beneath her. I froze, instinctively turning back to help, but Roger shoved me away with such force that my back slammed into a table corner. Pain radiated through my body, sharp and unrelenting. “Roger, help! Save our baby!” Lisa wailed, clutching her stomach. “Roger, I didn’t push her! She ran at me!” I explained. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged to the hospital, my back throbbing with every step. In the antiseptic hallway, Roger’s voice was as cold as ever. “If something happens to Lisa or the baby, we’re done.” I let out a bitter laugh, glaring at him through the pain. “You think that’s your baby? Open your eyes, Roger. It’s someone else’s bastard.”

“Mirea! Do you even realize what you’re saying?” Before I could respond, the doctor came out with news: Lisa’s child was gone. The next moment, Roger’s icy slap landed on my cheek. Before I could process the sting, he dragged me to Lisa’s hospital bed. “Apologize!” he barked. I bit down on my anger, refusing to open my mouth. Roger pushed me down forcefully until my knees hit the floor with a loud thud. The sharp pain made tears stream down my face uncontrollably. “I’ve told you before, Lisa isn’t like other women. If you ever bully her again, don’t bother coming back.” I struggled to my feet despite the searing pain. “Fine, I won’t come back. After all, the only reason you brought me into the Quinn family in the first place was to secure your family’s business interests!” Roger’s eyes darkened with disappointment. “If you want to leave, then go. Just remember, you owe Lisa a life.” I let out a bitter laugh, wiping away my tears as I glared at him. “I owe her a life? What about the Bentley family? Don’t they owe my mother one? Who’s paying that back?” “Get out,” he hissed coldly. Without a backward glance, I walked out of the hospital and into the pouring rain. I sat on the curb, letting the cold rain soak me as I calmed myself. After what felt like an eternity, I pulled out my phone and made a call. “Godmother,” I said, my voice steady, “I’ve made up my mind. I’ll come back to Cletown tomorrow and get engaged to Yance.” There was a pause on the other end before her excited voice came through. “That’s wonderful news! But don’t rush back just yet, stay a day or two and attend Roger’s engagement party. After all, he did take care of you all these years, and it’s only polite.” I hesitated, then reluctantly agreed. “Perfect timing!” she added. “Yance just got back to the country. He can swing by Beltown to pick you up.” I frowned. “Swing by? Is it really on the way?” “Of course it is! You’re going to be family soon anyway. It’s a great opportunity for you two to chat and get to know each other.” After some thought, I nodded. She wasn’t wrong. After my mother’s death, my godmother had reached out, offering to take me to Cletown to live with her. But Roger had been so kind to me back then. I couldn’t bear to leave and hurt him, so I turned her down every time. Years later, I ended up going to Cletown for university. My godmother often took me shopping, and I spent most of my holidays at her home. When I graduated, she offered me a job at her company and even suggested introducing me to her son, the same boy my mother had once taken me to meet. But back then, my heart belonged to Roger. Now, all of that was behind me. I no longer wanted to stay in Beltown. I needed to start over somewhere new. After hanging up, a notification popped up from an old friend. I opened it to find screenshots of Roger at the hospital, doting on Lisa. I didn’t respond. My friend, noticing my silence, sent another message: “Mirea, are you really giving up just like that? You’ve loved him for seven years.” I sighed, typing back: [What else am I supposed to do? Stay entangled in this mess and become the laughingstock of Beltown?” “That’s not what I meant. I just think…” “Don’t.”I cut her off. “There’s nothing to think about. I don’t love him anymore.”

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It was my first day at the new job, and of course, they assigned me a night shift right away. I had always worked at public hospitals, but a few weeks ago, I got an offer from a private one. The salary was hard to resist, and in the end, I couldn’t say no. I decided to make the switch. At this new hospital, my salary had increased several times over, and the work was a bit easier, too. I’d been married for almost two years, and with a less stressful, higher-paying job, I thought it would be easier for us to start trying for a baby. I couldn’t help but laugh when I thought about how Nathaniel, my husband, spent his time watching videos of cute little kids all day. He loved kids, so I figured having one wouldn’t be so bad. Even though his financial situation wasn’t exactly great, my income made up for that. In a marriage, there was no need to worry about who earned more. We both contributed what we could. If one of us made less, the other just picked up more of the household duties. I had always been pretty laid-back about it. Once I finished my night shift, I planned to tell Nathaniel the good news. I was sure he’d be over the moon. By midnight, I was getting a bit sleepy, but I grabbed my chart and went to start my rounds. When I reached the door of one of the private rooms, I heard some strange noises coming from inside. I shook my head, feeling a bit exasperated, and decided to skip that room, thinking I’d check it later. But just as I turned to walk away, I heard voices. “You need to get your health back on track if you want to get pregnant soon!” The voice made me stop dead in my tracks. It was Nathaniel’s voice. His voice was rough, and there weren’t many people who sounded like him, so I recognized it immediately. “Come on, let me rest for a couple of days, and I’ll make sure we have that healthy baby of yours soon enough!” A sweet, almost sickly voice followed, and I knew right away it was a woman’s voice. “Besides, you’re still married. Me getting pregnant right now would be… a bit complicated, don’t you think? Who would want to have a baby with no proper standing?” she added. That was all I needed to hear. This woman was definitely a mistress. At that moment, I wasn’t thinking about finishing my rounds anymore. I just wanted to barge in and see if Nathaniel was really in there. If it was him, well, things were about to get very interesting. But instead of pushing the door open, I went straight to the nurse’s station, pulled up the surveillance footage, and checked the hallway. As expected, earlier that day, Nathaniel had walked in carrying a basket of fruit, and he hadn’t come out since. That was all I needed to know. I had been completely betrayed. I never expected that changing hospitals would lead to something like this. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. I walked past the room, finished my rounds, and returned to the office. I sat down, feeling dizzy and confused. Nathaniel and I hadn’t known each other long, but we’d always gotten along well. When I was busy at the hospital, he took care of everything at home. I never had to worry about a thing. Up until now, I had thought we were perfect for each other—he was an amazing husband, and I couldn’t imagine him cheating. I never even considered the possibility of falling for anyone else. But now, everything felt like a cruel joke. We met at the hospital when he came in for his regular check-up, and I had just finished a surgery when we bumped into each other in the hallway. It was love at first sight. Who would have thought that this wonderful guy, the husband I always bragged about, could actually cheat? I felt numb. Exhaustion hit me hard, and before I realized it, I fell asleep. The next morning, my colleague came in for the handover, and I automatically asked about the patient in bed 305. “Oh, you mean Isabelle Lane? She lost her baby because of being too active during her pregnancy. We found out she’s had lost a few babies. After the D&C, her chances of getting pregnant again are practically zero,” my colleague said. My heart sank when I heard that. She had lost a few babies? Could it be that all of them were Nathaniel’s? I couldn’t shake the thought as I went to finish my last round for the day. When I entered room 305, Isabelle seemed shocked at first. But she quickly masked her expression and gave me a mocking look. “Dr. Hale, you look so exhausted. Didn’t get enough sleep last night?” I didn’t feel like answering, so I stayed silent. There was no rule that said I had to respond to every patient’s questions. Isabelle stared at me for a moment before deliberately saying, “A woman as beautiful as you, your husband must adore you, right?” I didn’t react, but I could tell by the way she spoke that she knew exactly who I was. Otherwise, how would she have known so much and why was she showing me such obvious hostility? “Why are you so quiet? I really like you. You’re so pretty. If I were your husband, I’d never cheat on you. You’d be the luckiest woman in the world.” I wasn’t affected by her words. They were clearly meant to provoke me. Had I not known the truth, I might have laughed it off. But after everything I’d learned, I just felt disgusted. “After losing a baby, you need to rest. Losing a few babies can cause infertility. Women need to take better care of themselves,” I said coldly and then turned and walked away. I didn’t know whose children Isabelle had lost, and I couldn’t expect Nathaniel to come clean at the hospital. When I finished my rounds and was about to leave, I was about to open the door when I bumped into Nathaniel himself. He was holding a glass container with some cut-up fruit in it. He looked worn out, like he hadn’t slept well. We stood there in front of room 305, and I could see the panic in his eyes the moment he saw me. “How did you end up here?” I frowned as I asked, closing the door to Room 305 behind me. No matter what, I didn’t want Isabelle to see me as a joke. When Nathaniel heard my question, a look of unease crossed his face. “I’m just visiting a friend,” he said, forcing a smile as he explained. I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly, “Visiting a friend, huh? Do you really need to bring cut fruit for that? Is she a friend or your girlfriend?” It struck me as ridiculous. Even though I thought Nathaniel loved me, he had never once taken the time to cut fruit for me. Yet, this other woman was treated entirely differently. How was I supposed to feel at ease about that? Nathaniel, clearly irritated by my words, shot me a frustrated glance. “What are you implying? Do you think I’m lying to you? I’m just visiting a friend. It’s not something I want to make public, so I didn’t mention it to you.” He looked at me, visibly agitated, shaking his head in disbelief. “If you really think I’d cheat on you, then I don’t even know what to say!” With that, he didn’t stick around any longer. He turned and stormed off, looking like he was hurt and offended. I felt confused. It was almost as if he was embarrassed about being caught and was now angry because of it. That evening, Nathaniel didn’t come home, probably wanting to avoid me for a while. I couldn’t be bothered to engage with him. At that point, all I could feel was a deep sense of frustration. I had enough evidence now to prove he was cheating, and while I was ready to divorce him, I wasn’t sure I could let go of the years we’d spent together. After thinking it over, I decided not to make a move just yet. I would give him one more chance. If he could come to his senses, maybe I could pretend none of this ever happened. The next day at work, Nathaniel even brought me lunch. I didn’t make it easy for him—gave him no acknowledgment at all—but he still kept at it for days, bringing me lunch and chatting briefly before leaving to “go back to work”. But the security footage told a different story. He wasn’t going back to work. He was meeting up with Isabelle again. Initially, I wanted to forgive him, to give him that chance. But now, after everything, I was just beyond done with him. Every time I went to check on patients, I had to see Isabelle’s smug face. She would taunt me with little remarks. “Dr. Hale, do you want some of this? It’s the fruit my man personally cut for me!” “Dr. Hale, how about some fresh juice? My man went out and bought it just for me!” I knew she was doing this on purpose, trying to get under my skin. But I wasn’t about to waste my time on her. If they kept this up, though, I would have no choice but to file for divorce. Just as I was mulling over these thoughts, I saw Nathaniel walk in carrying the lunch he’d made for me. When he saw me, his expression immediately soured. He quickly recovered, offering an explanation. “I brought you lunch. I heard you were doing rounds, so I thought I’d drop by.” His words were so forced, I couldn’t even stand to hear them. “Really? You think I could eat while I’m doing rounds? Or were you planning to give this lunch to that ‘friend’ of yours who’s just lost her baby?” Nathaniel shot me a look of irritation. “Enough with this personal stuff! Don’t drag other people into it. You’ve gone too far.” I was done with him. It was clear his heart wasn’t with me anymore—everything he did now was just to please Isabelle. “Do whatever you want. I don’t care anymore.” I gathered my paperwork and turned to leave, but Nathaniel stepped in front of me, his face full of frustration. “Apologize.” I was stunned. I had no idea what he was talking about. “Apologize? For what?” I couldn’t believe he was demanding an apology. Was he asking me to apologize to that woman? Nathaniel looked at me with disgust, clearly angry. “What you said was uncalled for. You need to apologize to Isabelle. We’re just friends, okay? I came here to check on her as a friend, and you humiliated her. Don’t you think that’s ridiculous?” For a moment, I almost thought maybe I had misunderstood things. If I hadn’t caught them in the act that night, I might have believed him. “Oh, please, don’t make her apologize. I’m fine! It’s just a misunderstanding, really,” Isabelle chimed in with her sugary tone, pretending to brush it off. I was so disgusted by her words, but I didn’t want to get caught up in any more drama. I turned to leave without saying another word. Nathaniel didn’t stop me. It seemed like he knew there was no point in arguing further—it was better to spend time with his little girlfriend than waste it on me. Back in my office, I accessed the hospital’s system and pulled up Isabelle’s records. I was shocked to find out that Nathaniel and Isabelle were both from the same small town. Under her occupation, it said, “Unemployed.” It seemed she was just another unemployed person from a small town. As I thought about it, my stomach churned. This private hospital was known for catering to wealthy clients, and I highly doubted someone without a job could afford to stay there. The truth hit me hard—Nathaniel was the one footing the bill for her stay. The idea of him spending our shared money on this woman made my blood boil. His affair had crossed a line, and I wasn’t going to put up with it. Divorce was already on my mind. Nathaniel’s financial situation was nothing compared to mine. The house and the car—both mine. But since all of this was acquired after we got married, it was considered marital property. I wasn’t going to let him walk away with what was rightfully mine. So, I contacted a private investigator. Even though I knew he was cheating, I didn’t have concrete proof. Once I had the evidence, I would have enough to prove he was cheating and make sure he left with nothing. When I finished everything, I realized it was time for my rounds. I hurriedly grabbed the patient files and went from room to room. By the time I reached Isabelle’s room, I was a minute late. As soon as I pushed the door open, I saw Isabelle’s smug expression. She glanced at me coldly and then shook the timer in her hand. “Dr. Hale, you’re late,” Isabelle said, her voice dripping with smugness as she put her phone down and leaned back against the wall. “I was timing you. Didn’t expect to witness your tardiness.” I ignored her and quickly finished my checkup before turning to leave. Talking to that woman was a waste of time. I couldn’t stand seeing her act so self-important. As soon as I finished my rounds and was about to sit down to write my notes, I got a call from the hospital director, asking me to come to his office. When I arrived, I found the director looking less than pleased. “Dr. Hale, I know you’re passionate about your work, but you really need to be more mindful of your timing. We had a complaint from a patient about you being late for your rounds. We’ve always been very strict about these things to ensure the best experience for our patients,” he said, glancing at me. “Why don’t you take a few days off? Once this patient is discharged, you can return to work.” I didn’t argue. I just nodded and left. The director probably sensed my mood and wisely chose not to push the matter further. As I was leaving his office, I heard shouting coming from Isabelle’s room. “Dr. Hale is so unprofessional! Doesn’t even care about the patients. Can anyone just be a doctor these days? She can’t even keep her scheduled rounds, and she’s late by a whole minute. Doesn’t she have any respect for us patients?”

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After losing control while drunk, I slept with the boy next door. He’s an extremely responsible person, so he proposed to me after sobering up. It wasn’t until later that I found out his most beloved woman had left the country that night. So I hid my deep feelings and became his obedient and virtuous wife in name only in this wealthy family. On countless quiet nights, we were incredibly in sync, yet kept our distance. My friends all said I would never be able to lGronaeave him, and I thought so too. Until one day, when I discovered his second phone. While he was in the shower, a girl sent a selfie of herself. “Mr. Brown, thank you for the birthday gift.” She was a very young girl with delicate features. But she was wearing expensive clothes that didn’t match her age, so she looked a bit uncomfortable. I stared at it for a long time, until my eyes stung. I had always known there was someone in Arlo’s life, but I never imagined it would be a girl like this. Beyond my heartache, I was also surprised by my husband’s preferences. I thought to myself, I’m sorry for discovering Arlo’s secret. A moment later, Arlo came out with steam rising from his body. “How long are you going to look at that?” He snatched the phone from my hand, glanced at me, and started getting dressed. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment on his face at being caught by his wife. I knew his confidence came from his control over the family finances. Because I was the one being kept at home, even though I used to be a well-known pianist in the country before we married. I didn’t confront him about the photo. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. Seeing he was about to go out, I quickly spoke up. “Arlo, I have something I want to talk to you about.” He fastened his belt leisurely and looked at me. “I have five minutes. The driver is waiting downstairs.” I guessed where he was going and my eyes darkened. “Arlo, I want to go out and work.” Arlo turned to look at me, staring for a while. Then he took out a checkbook from his pocket, wrote down a number, tore it out and handed it to me. “Isn’t it nice being a full-time housewife at home? Work isn’t suitable for you.” He was about to leave after saying that. I chased after him, taking a very humble stance. “I’m not afraid of hard work. I want to go out and work. I can play the piano.” The man had no patience to listen further. In his mind, I was like a delicate vine. Used to being taken care of, completely unsuited for working outside, and unable to endure hardship. Arlo looked at his watch. Time was up. He left this home without any reluctance. I couldn’t stop him, only managing to urgently ask as he gripped the doorknob. “My dad’s birthday is on Saturday. Do you have time?” Arlo paused. “We’ll see.” The door closed softly. A moment later, the sound of a car starting came from downstairs, gradually fading into the distance. A few minutes later, the housekeeper came upstairs. “Sir is going to H City for a few days. He said it’s for something important.” “Also, a batch of Sir’s clothes just arrived for washing. Madam, should we send them to the cleaners or would you like to hand wash and iron them yourself?” They knew my relationship with Arlo was strained. In this house, they were the messengers between Arlo and me. I knelt on the sofa, taking a while to come back to my senses before softly saying, “I’ll wash them by hand.” Because Arlo didn’t like the smell of dry cleaning solvents. So almost all of Arlo’s clothes, including suits and coats, were hand washed and ironed by me. Besides this, Arlo had high standards in other areas too. He didn’t like eating out, and he didn’t like any mess in the bedroom, so I learned cooking and flower arranging. He never took this wife to heart, only marrying me because of an accident. I gradually became the perfect housewife, and my life revolved almost entirely around Arlo. But Arlo still didn’t love me. I lowered my head and stared at the check. Last year my family business failed. My father suddenly fell ill from the shock, costing over six figures every month. Every time I went home, my stepmother complained that I took too little from Arlo. “He’s the CEO of Brown Pharmaceutical Group, worth billions.” “Grona, isn’t he your husband? Doesn’t that mean everything he has is yours too?” I smiled bitterly. How could anything of Arlo’s be mine? Arlo didn’t love me and was very cold to me usually. Our marriage only had sex, no love. He wouldn’t even let me have his child. Every time we slept together, he would remind me to take birth control. Yes, I had to take the pills. I felt for the pill bottle, took one out, and swallowed it numbly. After taking the pill, I gently pulled open a small drawer. Inside was a thick diary, filled with 18-year-old me’s deep love for Arlo. Ten years. I had loved him for a full ten years. I quietly closed my eyes. This one-sided play seemed like I could no longer keep acting it out. I didn’t wait for Arlo to come back. My dad had another acute attack and entered the ICU. The situation was very critical and he needed immediate surgery. I stood in the hospital hallway calling Arlo over and over, but no one answered after several tries. Just as I was about to give up, Arlo answered. Afraid he would lose patience and hang up the next second, I spoke rapidly: “Arlo, my dad—” But my words were still cut off by Arlo. His tone carried a hint of impatience: “Do you need money?” “I’ve said many times, if you urgently need money just ask Secretary Quinn. Grona, are you listening?” I looked up at the electronic screen, my expression dazed. It was playing today’s news. The CEO of Brown Pharmaceutical Group had rented out the entire Disneyland for a night of fireworks to please a beauty. Under the dazzling fireworks, a young girl sat in a wheelchair, smiling sweetly and innocently. And my husband Arlo stood behind the wheelchair. He was holding his phone, talking to me. I blinked slowly. After a long while, my voice carried a hint of brokenness: “Arlo, where are you?” There was a pause on the other end. He seemed very unhappy with my questioning, but still perfunctorily said: “Still busy. If there’s nothing else, I’m hanging up. Contact Secretary Quinn.” He didn’t notice my near-tears tone, but his gaze looking down at the person beside him was very gentle, so very gentle. My vision blurred. So Arlo could be this gentle after all. My stepmother’s voice came from behind: “Did you get in touch with Arlo? If Arlo doesn’t help, there’s no way we can handle this.” But her words stopped abruptly, because she also saw the scene on the electronic screen. After a while, my stepmother finally found her voice again. “Grona, I just don’t believe that when Arlo was in a coma, this Maeve girl playing the piano could wake him up.” “Even if that’s true, is this how you repay someone? He can’t even remember your birthday.” My stepmother got more and more angry as she spoke. Thinking of the Grona family’s situation, she couldn’t help but shed tears. “But Grona, you have to be clear-headed. Don’t cause trouble with Arlo at a time like this.” I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, but I couldn’t feel any pain. Cause trouble with Arlo? I wouldn’t. Not because I’m a sensible Mrs. Brown who knows better. But because I have no right as the unloved wife. The title is just an empty shell. I stared at the sky full of fireworks and said very softly: “All those fireworks must cost a lot of money, right?” My stepmother didn’t understand what I meant. I lowered my eyes and started dialing Secretary Quinn’s number. Disturbing someone’s sleep in the middle of the night is always unpleasant. Secretary Quinn had been by Arlo’s side for a long time and held a high position. Moreover, he knew Arlo didn’t care about this wife. So after hearing my request, his tone was cold and aggressive. “Mrs. Brown, you need to apply first and have Mr. Brown sign off before you can get a check.” “Just like the jewelry you wear, it needs to be registered before use.” “Madam, do you understand what I mean?” I hung up the phone. I lowered my head, very quiet. After a while, I looked up at myself in the glass, gently raised my hand. On my slender ring finger was my wedding diamond ring. This was the only thing on me that didn’t need to be requested from Arlo, didn’t need to be registered and reported to his secretary. How pathetic I was as Mrs. Brown. I blinked dazedly and suddenly said: “Help me find someone to sell the wedding ring.” My stepmother was stunned: “Grona, have you gone crazy?” I slowly turned around. In the desolate lobby late at night, even my footsteps sounded lonely. After walking a few steps, I paused, then said firmly: “Auntie, I’m very clear-headed. I’ve never been this clear-headed before. I want to divorce Arlo.” Three days later, Arlo returned home. Arlo pushed open the bedroom door to see me sitting at the dressing table organizing items. He put down his luggage, loosened his tie, and sat on the bed examining me. After marriage, I always enjoyed doing housework, organizing things, making snacks. If I didn’t still hold the title of Mrs. Brown Group, in Arlo’s heart I was really no different from a housekeeper. For a long time I didn’t speak. Arlo was also tired from his business trip. Seeing I didn’t speak, he was too lazy to say anything. He went straight to the closet, took a bathrobe and went to the shower. While showering, he probably thought that with my weak personality, by the time he finished I would have calmed down. Then I would continue to be a gentle wife. He was so certain I would always love him like this. So when he walked out of the bathroom and found his suitcase still in its original place, he felt it necessary to talk to me. Arlo sat down on the sofa, casually picked up a magazine to read. After a while, he looked up at me and said: “How is your father’s condition?” “I’ve already reprimanded Secretary Quinn about that night.” He spoke lightly, without much sincerity. I put down what I was holding and looked up to meet his gaze in the mirror. In the mirror, Arlo’s features were deep-set and his aura was noble. Even a bathrobe looked better on him than others. I looked for a long time, until my eyes were sore, before saying very calmly: “Arlo, let’s get divorced.”

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A deadly heatwave swept across the city. My husband, ever so compassionate toward the single mother and her child next door, took all the purified water I had carefully stockpiled and gave it to them. When I confronted him, anger burning in my chest, he exploded, stomping his foot like a child throwing a tantrum. “The taps still run, don’t they? Stop being so delicate! Are you really going to fight a kid over water?” Days later, the water supply was cut off. The neighbors, grateful only to him, offered him water but left me out in the scorching heat. Desperate and parched, I ventured out to find water, only to collapse from heatstroke and dehydration. My husband and the neighbor thrived. They used the very supplies I had hoarded, surviving together and eventually building a new life together. But fate had other plans. I woke up right before the heat wave hit. This time, my husband was once again dismissive of my preparations. I smiled sweetly, nodding as if he’d delivered the wisdom of the century. “You’re absolutely right, dear.” But in my heart, I vowed that this time, I wouldn’t lift a finger. Let him see how long they could survive without me.

“Severe heatwaves will continue sweeping the nation over the next two weeks. Residents are urged to stay alert, avoid going outdoors, and take precautions against heatstroke!” The familiar news alert sent chills down my spine. In my last life, I had collapsed from heatstroke and dehydration, left to die under the relentless sun. The memory of my skin burning came rushing back. I shuddered, trying to shake off the haunting images as I wolfed down ten popsicles in a desperate attempt to cool my body and mind. Then my phone rang. My husband, Liam Carter, barked at me before I could even say hello. “Jane! What’s your problem with Clara and her daughter now? Are you seriously picking on a kid who doesn’t even have a dad? How petty can you be?” His relentless accusations, devoid of logic or fairness, momentarily stunned me. No matter the situation, Liam always prioritized the mother-daughter duo next door. He was a doctor, and years ago, a friend had died of a heart attack while he stood helplessly by. Guilt-ridden, he had spent every day since trying to “make up” for it. That was how Clara and her daughter ended up living next door on his dime. Leaky pipes, clogged drains, a crying child… big or small, he was always at their beck and call. In my past life, I had taken the looming heatwave seriously. I had asked Liam to come with me to stockpile food and water. But when the time came, he brushed me off, saying he needed to spend time with their daughter, Mia. “You’re overreacting,” he had said, dismissing my concerns as paranoia. Frustrated, I texted Clara, asking her to let me have my husband for just one day. But my message only made her cry. Liam, ever the knight in shining armor, called me moments later to tear me apart over the phone. Left with no other choice, I went to the supermarket alone, battling the crowds of desperate shoppers for supplies. My arms were bruised and scratched by the time I hauled cartloads of goods back home. But before I could catch my breath, Liam had already ordered workers to deliver everything to the house next door. “Clara and her daughter are too frail to go out shopping,” he explained. “Think of this as a good deed; it’s good karma for you.” When the extreme heat made stepping outside unbearable, he didn’t hesitate to give our last five gallons of purified water to the neighbors. I confronted him, furious. “What about me? Do I not matter to you at all?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes, “There’s still water in the pipes, isn’t there? What are you, royalty? Fighting with a child over water, how selfish can you be?” By the sixth day of the heatwave, the pipes ran dry. When I went to Clara for help, she hesitated, biting her lip. “Jane, I’d really love to help, but we’re running low on supplies, too. It’s not that I’m being selfish, but Liam has done so much for us over the years…” I didn’t let her finish. “Don’t you dare! Those supplies are mine! I bought them!” But Liam didn’t care. He praised her for her “kindness” while berating me for being difficult. “Stop making things hard for her. If you need water, go figure it out yourself!” It was as if they’d both forgotten who had stockpiled the supplies in the first place. Without me, neither of them would have survived. Unable to argue or fight my way through, I left to search for water on my own, only to collapse and die in the suffocating heat. But this time? I wouldn’t be their scapegoat again. I decided to take care of myself. “Liam, you’re absolutely right,” I said sweetly, cutting into his tirade. He seemed pleased with my compliance. “Good. Mia has no dad, so I need to look after them. Don’t make things harder than they need to be.” I nodded along, keeping my tone docile. “Of course, I understand.” The moment I hung up, I wasted no time calling a real estate agent. If he wanted to play hero, fine. But I wouldn’t let him drag me down with him.

Extreme weather lays bare the true nature of people. I urged the real estate agent to quickly secure a villa in the suburbs, assuring them that price was no object. First, a pricier residence meant better security and more refined neighbors, an essential filter against potential threats when living alone. Second, the suburban location promised fewer people and better greenery, a perfect haven from the heat. The agent was efficient. The villa’s owner had settled overseas, ensuring no disturbances to my carefully planned month of survival. With the property secured, I wasted no time. I headed straight to the supermarket to stock up. In my last life, I had died of dehydration. This time, watching barrels of water delivered to the villa, I felt the weight in my chest finally ease. Truckloads of instant food, grains, oils, and meat soon followed, filling every corner of the house. Thankfully, the villa came equipped with large freezers, making food storage much easier. At the time, most people dismissed the importance of fruits and vegetables, deeming them too perishable. When they saw me loading cart after cart with fresh produce, their reactions ranged from scoffs to outright laughter. But I knew better. I turned the vegetables into pickles or froze them in the massive freezers. No one foresaw how vital these would become. Soon, fruits and vegetables would be the last viable source of vitamin C. The relentless heat would wither crops in the fields, leaving nothing but rot in its wake. For six long months, even after temperatures normalized, fresh produce would remain an impossible luxury. Many who survived the heatwave would later succumb to scurvy and its devastating complications, like brain hemorrhages. But food wasn’t my only priority. I also bought out the bulk of the city’s stock of blankets, down coats, hand warmers, candles, lighters, and matches. On top of that, I hauled in charcoal and firewood. While most people assumed that surviving the heatwave meant the worst was over, I knew better. Extreme weather was rarely an isolated event. It often signaled the arrival of other calamities. After my death in my previous life, my lingering spirit had watched as the city erupted in joyous celebration when the heatwave finally ended. But their relief was premature. Nobody saw what was coming next. Without warning, a week of utter darkness descended upon the earth. A once-in-a-lifetime phenomenon caused by geomagnetic disruptions kept the sun from rising. The darkness was suffocating, and the cold was unbearable. But it wasn’t the cold that broke people. It was the endless, maddening blackness that unleashed the ugliest parts of human nature. The city’s electricity grid, already strained from the heatwave, collapsed under the demand for heating. Solar panels and batteries were an option, but their limited capacity rendered them almost useless. Instead, the simplicity of candles and firewood proved far more reliable. I also stocked up on essential medicines from the pharmacy. To avoid drawing attention, I hired different drivers to deliver each truckload of supplies. It had been only two days since I began my preparations. Then, as if he’d suddenly remembered my existence, Liam called from next door, where he was happily playing surrogate father to Clara and Mia. “Jane, are you out partying so much you’ve forgotten your way home? Tomorrow’s going to hit 117°F! You’d better get out there and stock up on food and water for Clara and Mia before it’s too late!”

I found it laughable. Liam, who had spent the past two days practically living at Clara’s house, had the audacity to accuse me of neglecting my own home. Enjoying the bliss of playing husband and father to his “adopted” family, it seemed he had finally realized the looming danger of the heatwave. “Jane! Are you listening? Where are you? Go stock up on food and water before Clara and Mia starve!” His exasperated tone practically dripped through the phone. “Why can’t you be more like Clara? She knows how to take care of a family!” The irony wasn’t lost on me. Clara certainly knew how to “care” for a family, just never her own. And Liam had outdone himself with his double standards. When I prepared for the heatwave last time, I was “overreacting.” When I didn’t buy anything, I was “irresponsible.” It seemed that no matter what I did, I’d always be the villain in his eyes. A walking scapegoat for all his problems. He had probably despised me for long. After all, my existence prevented him from living with Clara and Mia. If that was the case, why not live life on my own terms? I didn’t bother arguing. “Didn’t you see my message? I’m out of town on business and can’t get away. Besides, the stores are almost emptied by now. Why don’t you and Clara try a few more places? You might get lucky.” I figured this would be my last act of kindness. After all, we had been married for years. Tomorrow, the temperature was set to soar to 124°F, hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement. For safety reasons, stores would close, and people would barricade themselves indoors. But Liam couldn’t care less. He was still preoccupied with doting on his “goddaughter.” “It’s Mia’s first Children’s Day since her father passed,” he said stubbornly. “Clara and I promised to spend it with her. If you can’t handle a simple task like this, don’t bother coming home!” “Oh, so I’m still your wife when you need a servant?” I thought. I rolled my eyes, hung up, and unwrapped a popsicle. Let him make his choice. Playtime or survival? I wasn’t about to save someone so determined to dig his own grave. The first day of the heatwave arrived, and the government announced a halt to work and school. Strangely, some people saw this as a cause for celebration. Under the searing sun, they danced and partied in the streets. It didn’t take long for the first person to collapse. Then, the second. And the third. Panic spread. People began to realize this wasn’t something worth celebrating. Animals lay dead on the streets, their bodies bloated and scorched. The stench of decay filled the air, forcing people indoors. By the second day, whispers of prayer and chants for salvation began to echo in the silence. Meanwhile, I sat in the guest room of my well-stocked villa, savoring delicious food with the AC on full blast while watching the surveillance footage. Then, I found out that Clara and Mia had already moved into my house.

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I had proposed to my childhood sweetheart, Brenda Schultz, countless times. It wasn’t until my 99th attempt that she finally said yes. But on that very day, another piece of news shot became a hashtag: “Dexter Greville, the once-proud heir to the Greville family who had fallen to the status of a servant’s son, proposed to Brenda.” In the news footage, my fiancée Brenda covered her lips with trembling hands, blushing as she accepted the ring Dexter offered her. Behind them, their parents and friends were all offering their blessings. What they didn’t know was that Brenda had also agreed to marry me. Later, Brenda shamelessly explained, “Dexter has cancer. I’m just playing along to make him happy.” However, when I left, she draped herself around Dexter’s neck and cooed, “I’ve set my wedding with Kendrick for three days from now. “I only agreed to his proposal, so I could see you try to stop it. Isn’t that romantic?” When I heard that, I finally gave up. I picked up my phone and made a call. “I’m getting married in three days. Are you coming? I need a bride.” On my wedding day, when I was preparing to marry another woman, Brenda lost her mind.

“Kendrick, can you stop being so unreasonable?” Brenda snapped. “Dexter has cancer. He’s dying! This is his last wish. I just want to make him happy! “You already took his place as the Greville heir. I’ve even agreed to marry you. What more do you want?” Brenda rushed back as soon as she got my call. Storming into the room, she yanked off her engagement ring and threw it onto the couch, her frustration spilling out. “Yes, I know you’ve suffered a lot in the past, but what does that have to do with Dexter? “Do you really need to take out all your resentment and anger on an innocent man?” I am Kendrick Greville. Dexter was my non-biological brother, and Brenda was the woman I’d been in love with for many years. When I was born, Dexter’s mother, Laura Ruiz, worked as a servant in my family’s household. Taking advantage of her position, she swapped me and Dexter. I was abandoned in the countryside and grew up as a penniless orphan, while Dexter became the pampered heir to a wealthy family. Perhaps out of guilt, Laura adopted me, but she never treated me kindly. My childhood was a nightmare. She would beat me over nothing, whip me with thorn-covered switches, and in the dead of winter, she would throw me out, bruised and shivering, without so much as a sip of warm water. During those bleak years, Brenda was my only source of light. She was my neighbor. Her mother was a gambling addict, and her stepfather was a violent drunk. Whenever they fought, she became their punching bag. I would stand in front of her to shield her from the blows, and she would often sneak food to me when I was starving. We supported each other through those long, harsh years. When my true identity was revealed, and I returned to the Greville family, I brought Brenda out of that miserable environment, too. I insisted on making her my girlfriend, supported her financially, and provided her with an education. I spoiled her, turning her into a refined and affluent lady. She once cupped my face with tears in her eyes and told me I was the light of her life. She said she couldn’t live without me. That’s why I never understood why she always hesitated and found excuses every time I proposed to her. But now, I finally understood. I realized my fiancée had fallen in love with the servant’s son who had stolen my life.

As I watched Brenda’s impatient expression, a dull ache began to rise in my chest. Instead of answering her questions directly, I reached out and smoothed her disheveled hair. “Do you remember what you said to me when I returned to the Greville family?” Even after regaining my rightful identity, I never truly became part of the family. My parents preferred the son they had raised themselves. When the truth came out, Dexter faced no consequences. They still took him to social events, and the dinner table was always filled with the dishes he loved but would trigger my allergies. Back then, Brenda would hold my hand tenderly and tell me, “It’s okay. Even if the whole world doesn’t love you, I will. I’ll always stay by your side.” But now, even the one person who had stood by me had switched sides. Brenda frowned slightly, avoiding my hand as a flicker of unease crossed her face. “I remember,” she replied reluctantly. “Of course I do, but… “Dexter’s situation is dire. We should prioritize his need.” Perhaps realizing she’d been too harsh, she softened her expression and spoke gently, “Don’t worry. I only said yes to Dexter to give him some comfort. The person I’m marrying is still you.” But I knew she was lying. Even though her words professed love, the impatience in her eyes and her thinly veiled resistance told the truth. I realized that she no longer loved me. Brenda’s phone buzzed on the table. Dexter’s face appeared on the screen, but she quickly covered it up, saying evasively, “It’s probably my parents asking about the wedding arrangements. You should go prepare…” She paused briefly, then added with a meaningful look, “I’ll give you a surprise on our wedding day.” With that, Brenda left in a hurry. I frowned, uneasy. I felt something was off, so I followed her. As I’d suspected, she drove away in a rush and headed to a private suite. When I reached the door, I heard laughter inside. Someone said, “Dexter, are you really planning to crash the wedding that day?”

Inside, Brenda sat beside Dexter. Dexter toyed with her fingers, raising an eyebrow with a smirk. “I always keep my promises. Don’t you think so?” Their friends burst into laughter, chiming in, “We just don’t get it. If you’re going to be together, why make Brenda accept Kendrick’s proposal? Isn’t all this a hassle?” I knew his reason. Because I had taken his place as the Greville heir, Dexter was determined to take away the one person I cherished most. He had fooled my parents with his innocence and deceived Brenda with excuses, but he couldn’t fool me. Of course, Dexter didn’t admit any of this. Instead, he said dramatically, “Crashing the wedding is romantic, isn’t it? “It makes our love story more epic. Don’t you think so?” Their laughter erupted again. Someone turned to Brenda and asked, “Aren’t you worried Kendrick will be furious? Running off with Dexter at the wedding would publicly humiliate him. No man could tolerate that.” Brenda leaned into Dexter’s arms, gazing up at him shyly before replying, “I’ll do whatever makes Dexter happy.” Upon hearing this, I felt my heart sank. Their laughter became a cruel mockery of me. Stumbling backward, I staggered out of place, dazed. Images of Brenda blushing as she accepted Dexter’s ring and their schemes for the wedding flashed through my mind. The cold winter wind cut through me, seeping into my bones. I closed my eyes, but their words echoed in my ears. They said, “Mr. and Mrs. Greville also know about this. “They agreed because they wanted to fulfill Dexter’s last wish. “With Dexter’s parents on your side, what’s there to worry about?” Now I understood why my parents had attended Dexter’s proposal. No one truly loved me. To them, I was merely a steppingstone for Dexter’s happiness. My parents and my friends were all the same. I used to think Brenda was different. But after twenty years together, after all the love I’d given her, she had said, “I’ll do whatever makes Dexter happy.” I thought, “Then let me grant them their wish.” A loud car horn jolted me back to reality. I opened my eyes and found myself standing in the middle of the road. Taking a deep breath, I pushed the ache in my heart aside. Finally, I made a call. “I’m getting married in three days. “Are you coming? I need a bride.”

In order to create the dramatic effect Dexter wanted, my wedding was arranged to be exceptionally grand. My parents even arranged for the media to broadcast the event live. Our relatives and friends, well aware of the underlying tension, were ready to witness the spectacle of a dramatic wedding crash. Everyone assumed I was oblivious to the scheme. Brenda arrived early and changed into her wedding gown. In the private area designated for wedding preparations, she and Dexter enjoyed themselves with passionate sex. When I arrived, she emerged from the room, her face flushed. The sight of me startled her, and she stammered nervously, “The light in the room went out. I was scared of being alone, so I called Dexter to help fix it.” Feigning ignorance, I nodded in acknowledgment. Brenda flashed me a smile and slid her arm through mine. She pressed the wedding ring into my palm. “When we’re up there, kneel down and slip this onto my finger, okay?” I knew this was part of their carefully crafted plan. Dexter intended to burst onto the scene just as I was kneeling to propose. He wanted to snatch Brenda away in the most dramatic fashion possible. That was their idea of romance. I agreed, and as Brenda smiled contentedly, preparing to leave, I stopped her. Looking straight into her eyes, I asked, “You once said I was the light of your life. You said you couldn’t live without me. Was that true?” She froze for a moment. We had been together for so many years that whatever passion we once shared had long since withered. I doubted she even remembered her own promises. Forcing a smile, she replied half-heartedly, “Of course. Now hurry up and get ready. The ceremony is about to begin.” I watched her retreating figure and couldn’t help but smile bitterly. I wondered if her old promises ever held any truth.

The wedding began with elegant music drifting through the venue. Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, Brenda approached me with a smile. But I could tell her anticipation wasn’t to be my bride. Her gaze lingered on Dexter, filled with unspoken anticipation. When it was time to exchange rings, the entire room held its breath. Dexter stared at me intently, poised to step in and execute his plan. Brenda extended her hand to me, the romantic melody shifting into a more suspenseful tune. But I didn’t move. Brenda grew impatient, whispering urgently, “Kendrick, what’s wrong? Put the ring on me!” Still, I said nothing. In the audience, my father stood abruptly, his frustration evident. “Kendrick, what are you doing? Everyone’s waiting!” As I remained motionless, whispers of confusion spread among the guests. Brenda, now visibly flustered, gave me a reproachful look. “Kendrick, what’s the matter with you? Isn’t this what you wanted? Today is our wedding! Everyone is watching. Don’t humiliate me like this!” I let out a weary laugh. So, they were aware that disrupting the ceremony would humiliate the couple involved. Yet they went ahead with their plan, anyway, caring little for my dignity. Once the murmurs of the crowd subsided, I finally spoke, “I’m sorry, but my bride hasn’t arrived yet. Could we wait a little longer for her?” Brenda’s face paled with disbelief. The audience erupted in shock, unsure of what was happening. Just then, the hotel doors burst open. A familiar figure, wearing a dazzling wedding gown, strode in. “Kendrick, I’m here to marry you!”

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It’s 11 PM, and my wife still hasn’t come home. I call her, and she mumbles something about a company party, saying she can’t get away. I don’t call her out on it. I silently watch as my wife of 5 years, whom I’ve known for 9, enters a bar arm-in-arm with another man. “I think it’ll be a few more hours. Don’t wait up for me, go to bed,” she says hurriedly before hanging up. Tonight marks the 11th time this month she’s come home late. It’s also the last chance I’m giving her. At 4 AM, Claire finally returns. For the first time, she rushes straight to the bathroom to shower. The clothes she casually tossed on the couch are missing the stockings she wore when she left. I let out a bitter laugh, grab her clothes, and throw them in the washing machine before preparing some hangover pills for her. “Jack, you’re the best!” Claire suddenly hugs me from behind. Her voice is still sweet and melodious: “You’re up so late and even prepared hangover pills for me. You’re going to spoil me!” I’m not as enthusiastic as I used to be and coldly push her away. “Just take the pills.” “Your stomach isn’t good. If you drink without taking hangover pills, you won’t be able to sleep tonight.” Claire smiles and, like an obedient kitten, leans on the table to drink some water. She rambles on, “Work’s been so busy lately. If it’s not overtime, it’s company events. I probably won’t even get a break this weekend. It’s exhausting…” I remember she said the same thing last week. Worried about her irregular meals, I went to bring her lunch, only to discover she had never worked overtime. Her empty desk had only a photo frame with a picture of her and Zack. Her colleague said she hadn’t changed it in years. “If you’re that tired, just be honest about it.” “Huh? Honest about what?” Claire’s watery eyes suddenly widen. “About you and Zack. Isn’t it exhausting to lie every day? Drinking until this late and still having to come up with excuses for me seems unnecessary.” I point to the pills, telling Claire to remember where they’re kept so she can find them herself next time she drinks. “Jack, stop it!” “What are you doing? Are you leaving me?” Claire grabs my arm and hugs it, her eyes turning red. Years of marriage make me hold back from lashing out: “I can’t keep a woman whose heart I couldn’t warm in 9 years.” “What nonsense are you talking about? I’m not that kind of woman!” Claire lets go of my hand and glares at me angrily: “Haven’t I explained it to you? Zack and I are just friends. He just came back from abroad and doesn’t have a place to stay or a job yet, so I’ve only met him a few times to help him out.” “Can’t you act like a man? Stop being so jealous for no reason. It’s really unattractive!” She frowns, looking disgusted. The last time I caught her lying about meeting Zack, she gave a similar excuse. But if they’re just friends, why does she keep lying over and over? Why does she come home later and later? I let out a bitter laugh, unable to hold back anymore. “Then let’s get divorced. Go find your ‘attractive’ Zack!” Her childhood sweetheart, whom she hasn’t seen in years, is nothing but a deadbeat who lives off his parents and spends his days and nights in bars and clubs. Yet somehow, she’s still drawn to him. “Divorce?” “Jack, stop acting like a jealous woman! Just because I came home a bit late, you’re talking about divorce? This will only make me hate you!” Claire grabs the water glass and smashes it on the ground. “I’m your wife, not your pet. You don’t get to control who I hang out with!” “Instead of watching me like a hawk every day, why don’t you focus on improving yourself?” After shouting, Claire storms into the guest room and locks the door. The heart I thought couldn’t hurt anymore suddenly aches again. She has a weak stomach, so I’ve cooked for her every day for 9 years. She has a princess complex, so I never forget to give her gifts on every holiday. Whatever she wants, I work myself to the bone to get it for her. But even so, I can’t replace her childhood sweetheart’s photo on her desk. “Sigh… Let it be.” I take a deep breath and start packing my bags. “Jack, it’s been so long. Why haven’t you come to comfort me yet?” “In the past, no matter how angry I got, you’d never leave me alone for more than 10 minutes.” “Do you really not want me anymore?” Looking at the messages Claire sent, I can imagine her tear-stained, pitiful face. I think back to last month when she lied about working overtime on a weekend. I saw her cuddling with Zack in a 24-hour bar, intimately embracing. At that moment, I seemed to go crazy and rushed over, grabbing Zack’s collar and demanding to know who he was. Claire panicked and pushed me away, firmly shielding Zack. “He’s my good friend! If there’s anything to discuss, let’s do it at home. Don’t make a scene and embarrass Zack here!” Her determination to protect Zack was just like how I used to protect her. Afterwards, she left with Zack, abandoning me, her husband, on the spot, like a joke watching his love walk away hand in hand with another man. That time, I first thought about divorce. But as soon as I brought it up, Claire locked herself in the guest room, crying and wailing. She said I was the one she loved most, and she only hid her meeting with an old friend because she didn’t want me to be angry. She said she had some drinks and her stomach hurt badly. After 9 years of love, my heart instantly crumbled at her tears. So I believed her one last time. But… There won’t be a second time. “Jack, you know I’m not asleep. Why aren’t you coming to comfort me?” “I really haven’t done anything to betray you with Zack. I won’t hide it from you when I meet him in the future, so you won’t be suspicious anymore.” “My stomach hurts again. Can you bring me another hangover pill?” When Claire came to me with teary eyes, I was writing her a note. It had recipes for her favorite foods. The dates of her menstrual cycle. The location of her stomach medicine and the dosage for each time… She never paid attention to these trivial life details, used to being pampered and cared for by me. “Didn’t I already tell you where the medicine is?” I handed her the note I’d written: “From now on… you’ll have to learn to take care of yourself.” Claire froze, not reaching out to take the note. I simply placed it on the table, stood up, and grabbed my suitcase to leave. Only then did she react, gently pulling at me, her red-rimmed eyes brimming with tears: “You even packed your bags? Do you really not want me anymore? Are you really divorcing me?” Her tears fell. In the past, when she cried like this, I would inevitably soften. But this time, I just calmly said: “Yes, Claire. I gave you chances. But now, I’ve had enough.” With that, I pushed her hand away without a hint of lingering attachment. “Enough, Jack! How many times do I have to tell you? Zack is my best friend. I haven’t betrayed you or done anything inappropriate!” Claire suddenly shouted out of control: “Yes, I’ve been closer to him, and we did have a relationship in the past, but that’s all in the past.” “If I really couldn’t let him go, why wouldn’t I just divorce you and be with Zack?” As she spoke, she angrily pushed me. The broken glass shards from earlier hadn’t been cleaned up, and I stepped on them, unable to react in time. They pierced through my shoe and deeply into the sole of my foot. Blood slowly seeped out, like a mirror reflecting my tall but thin figure. For these 9 years, I’ve treated Claire as the most important thing in my life, working myself to the bone to give her a better life, and taking on all the housework after getting off work. Without realizing it, my back had become slightly hunched from exhaustion. “I guess it’s because you’re used to being taken care of by me, treating me like a housekeeper…” Other than that, I couldn’t think of a second reason. “No, Jack, that’s not it.” “I’m with you because I love you. I can’t leave you…” Claire’s voice trembled slightly as she spoke, crouching down to examine the wound on the sole of my foot. There seemed to be a hint of concern in her eyes. “Jack, I’ll go get the first aid kit and bandage it for you.” Claire stood up and ran to the living room, but just as she opened the TV cabinet, her phone rang. She immediately forgot about my injury and ran to the bathroom to answer. The voice on the other end was loud, and I could tell it was a drunk Zack. “Do you have any money left, Claire? I couldn’t sleep because I missed you so much, so I went to the bar for a few drinks. But I accidentally drank too much and don’t have enough money…” As soon as Zack finished speaking, Claire rushed out of the bathroom, her eyes full of urgency as she ran to the entrance to change her shoes. Opening the door, she remembered me and gave me a casual glance. “Jack, can you bandage it yourself? I have an urgent matter to attend to, something very important.” I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly. “Go ahead, remember to drink some warm milk when you come back. You’ve been drinking and haven’t slept all night, your stomach will—” She didn’t even have the patience to listen to me finish and hurried off to Zack. It was clear who was more important in her heart. The blood on the sole of my foot spread again, forming the shape of a blood flower. As if mourning our completely dead marriage. Goodbye, Claire. I pushed my suitcase, waved goodbye to the home we’d lived in for 5 years, and left without any regrets.

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After My CEO Girlfriend Let Her Assistant Take My Project, I Quit, and the Company Went Bankrupt After securing a big project for the company, I received a ring from my girlfriend, Pamela Carlson. Overjoyed, I posted it on Instagram, thinking that she was finally ready to announce our engagement. But then, my girlfriend’s new male assistant, Russell Burnett, slapped me across the face and flipped my desk. He said, “Scott Hebert, you’re the director for crying out loud! Stealing a gift meant for me from my wife, do you have any shame?” Not only did my girlfriend not defend me, but she also said I wasn’t worthy of my position and publicly announced that her assistant would be taking over the project I had just landed. It was then that I realized. The person my girlfriend wanted to announce wasn’t me but him. Soon, the whole company was watching, phones in hand, enjoying the spectacle. But I wasn’t angry. Instead, I calmly shoved my ID badge into the assistant’s arms. I said, “So, you’re the president’s worthy partner now. I’ll consider the director position as my apology. Wishing you both a lifetime of happiness.”

Seeing my unexpected reaction, a colleague shocked me by pulling me aside and whispering, “Don’t act impulsively. It’s just one project. We can always negotiate another.” But he didn’t know I wasn’t acting on impulse. The day before, I had overheard my girlfriend’s assistant talking to her in her office. He said, “Pamela, I want to make a name for myself. If you hand me this new project, I’ll make sure it succeeds, and you’ll be impressed.” At the time, I didn’t think much of it. I had been Pamela’s secret boyfriend for seven years. I turned down offers from big companies to help her start this one. I was the one who brought in 90% of the projects for the company, and she knew how hard it had been for me. She was a principled person and would never mess with something as serious as a project. Besides, she had once lost a project to people who used flattery to climb the ranks. She hated that kind of behavior. So, when I received the ring from Pamela, I thought she had finally realized that I was the one for her and was ready to settle down with me. I had no idea that Russell would turn the tables on me, accusing me of stealing and humiliating me in front of everyone. I also never imagined that Russell, who had only been with the company for a few months, could make Pamela abandon all her principles for him. At that point, I figured I had nothing left to stay for there. Pamela still didn’t realize that their childish plan had been exposed. She thought I was just being jealous. She suddenly furrowed her brow and looked at me. “Why are you acting so dramatic?” Ever since Russell came into the picture, she had started looking at me with suspicion. I didn’t bother to argue anymore. I simply said, calmly, “I really did give it to him.” I had given him both my girlfriend and my position. I wasn’t planning to stay any longer. Just as I was about to leave, Pamela coldly grabbed my arm and pulled me into her office. The company was not large, and the office soundproofing was not good, either. As soon as she closed the door, the employees outside, who had been watching, started chatting excitedly, praising Russell and asking when they’d be getting married and having kids. Russell shyly replied, “Having kids is tough on the woman. I can’t decide when that’ll happen.” He acted like he was Pamela’s real boyfriend, and with her tacit approval, the employees believed it without question. Pamela, sensing my silence, paused while pouring water. Realizing that she owed me an explanation, her usual strong tone softened as she said, “Russell’s just kidding. He doesn’t know any better. He was just joking around, don’t take it seriously. He has relatives at Nebula Group, and it’s thanks to him that we got this project.” I looked at her, speechless. What a joke! Nebula Group, the main client, had its own professional technical department and never needed to outsource. From the start, they had rejected the collaboration. It was me, stubbornly insisting and trying everything I could, sending gifts, begging for meetings, that finally got a chance to talk with the project manager. He generously gave me thirty seconds to present our product. After seeing my capabilities, he offered me a high price but couldn’t poach me, which was when he agreed to the deal. I had been working overtime, running around day and night for the project, but she saw none of it. Russell casually mentioned his relatives, and she believed every word. If she had just thought for a second, she would have understood clearly that if Russell really had those connections, he wouldn’t be working as an assistant in this small, rundown company. Or maybe she understood everything but was just pretending to be clueless. Seeing that I didn’t speak for a while, Pamela looked down for a moment and then stood up and made me a cup of coffee. She leaned in close and whispered in my ear, “We’re just acting. The person I’m really going to marry is you.” In the past, every time we argued, when she softened her tone and made promises, I always forgave her. So, she probably thought it would be the same this time. With a casual wave of her hand, she said, “Get back to work. I’ll take care of the project.” But what she didn’t know was I no longer wanted her. I pushed my chair back, stood up, and said, “No need to make a big deal out of it. I’ll just leave.” With that, I pulled out my resignation form, quickly filled it out, and, without hesitation, turned and walked out of the office.

When Russell saw me leaving, he rushed over, blocking my way, and said with a pretend look of grievance, “Scott, I know you’re an expert. You’re right, I’m not fit for the position of tech director. I’ll give it back to you.” He grabbed his ID badge and tried to push it towards me. I just gave him a light push, and he stumbled, falling over the chair and knocking over the computer, causing a commotion among the colleagues around us. Russell quickly got up. Facing the concerned looks from his coworkers, he waved his hand with a smile, saying it was no big deal. Pamela, startled by the noise, hurried over in her four-inch-high heels. After confirming that Russell was fine, she furrowed her brows and glared at me. “Scott, don’t think you can do whatever you want just because you’re an old employee.” The colleagues around us immediately started to chime in, “Yeah, Scott, the changeover is for the company’s growth. Don’t use your seniority to bully the new guys.” The harshest words came from Alan Jordan, whom I had trained. “It’s just a few projects. Do you really think you are the boss now? You’ve gotten addicted to forming cliques, huh? You can’t even respect a genius like Russell?” We had worked together for many years, and I was the top sales performer. In the past, everyone would respectfully call me Scott whenever they saw me. Now, they all watched me with glee, hoping I would leave right away. It didn’t matter. Let them say whatever they wanted. I wasn’t going to play along anymore. I left the company without saying a word. Pamela hurried after me. When she saw that there was no one else around, she rubbed her forehead and said, “You’ve just been working too hard lately. I’ll approve some time off for you. Take a break. Today is the seventh anniversary of our relationship. Stay home and wait for me. I’ve prepared a surprise for you.” As she finished speaking, the elevator arrived, and I stepped in without saying a word. At home, I made myself something to eat. I didn’t wait for her, and she didn’t come back until it was dark. I put on my shoes and tidied up before heading out to meet the client. On the way, I ran into a colleague. The boy was a bit slow on the uptake, so he didn’t distance himself like the others. He greeted me cheerfully. “Scott, you’re going to Mr. Burnett’s promotion party thrown by Ms. Carlson, right? Let’s go together. We’ll split the cost of the ride.” He was excited about not having to take the subway anymore, but I shook my head and said, “No.” He gave me an awkward glance and asked, “Didn’t Ms. Carlson invite you?” I shook my head indifferently and walked away. I faintly heard him muttering, “Pamela really does protect her men.” But I didn’t turn around. She never defended anyone except Russell. For Russell, she would do anything, even stand me up, which wasn’t a one-time thing. When I was hospitalized with pneumonia, she said she would visit after a meeting, but I waited until morning before she finally showed up. She claimed she had been working late, but in reality, she had been watching a movie with Russell. Not long ago, we had planned to take a couple’s photo shoot. I waited in my suit until the store closed, and then she casually strolled in, saying work had delayed her. In fact, she had been shopping with Russell, picking out some clothes for him. There were countless similar incidents. Every time I questioned her, she would scold me, saying, “Work is more important.” This kind of relationship was just exhausting. At the café, the head of the client team looked at the progress I had submitted and couldn’t stop praising it. “Scott, have you ever thought about switching jobs? Your salary could multiply tenfold.” This time, I didn’t refuse. The client head was happy to hear my response and said we could discuss any conditions I had. After the meeting, I went home. Pamela had already packed the food and was sitting on the sofa waiting for me. Once again, she was late. In the past, she would offer excuses, but this time, she didn’t say a word. After a brief silence, she pushed the food box toward me. “You must be tired, don’t cook. Just heat this up and eat.” I looked down at the food. The plastic container held a mix of different dishes, unappealingly thrown together. There were stir-fried and boiled dishes and even a piece of pie soaked in soup. It was obvious that they didn’t finish the food, and she packed it up carelessly. She hadn’t even bothered to pack the food separately, just shoved everything into one big box. It was so unappetizing. I waved my hand. “No need, I’ve already eaten.” Pamela gave me a long, deep look. Her usual coldness gave way to a rare moment of softness as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around my waist. “Sorry. He just got promoted, so I had to make an appearance as his boss. I know you’ve had a tough day, so let’s go get our marriage certificate this weekend.” Ha! It sounded so sweet. But when I got promoted to director, I was so happy that I threw a celebration for myself. I eagerly sat in the private room, waiting as the waiter reheated the dishes five times. By the time the restaurant closed, none of my colleagues had shown up. The messages I sent out were met with silence. Some kind-hearted colleagues quietly asked if I had offended the CEO. I was confused at the time, but later, I found out. While I was away from the office, she coldly scolded every colleague who had planned to attend the dinner. “Is the workload too light for you? Got too much free time? Always thinking about food, drinks, and fun. Are you all that useless? You’re just wasting the company’s money. You’d be better off leaving now!” Thinking back on it, I pushed her hand away from my waist, which had been groping me, and said coldly, “No need for that, Pamela. Let’s break up. ”

The atmosphere in the room instantly froze. Pamela gasped, her controlled emotions finally spilling over. “I’ve sacrificed all this for the company’s growth. Other people’s boyfriends would be happy, but you just don’t get it!” I didn’t bother with her twisted logic. She continued talking about how important the company’s development was, and how, once the company went public, I’d have a place in it. I was sick of hearing it, so I raised my hand to interrupt her. “I don’t need that. I’m packing up and moving out now.” Pamela had been the boss for so many years, and it was the first time her words were interrupted. Her face turned bright red with anger. She glared at me for a long while before letting out a cold snort. “No need. I’ll just leave!” With a bang, she slammed the door behind her. I didn’t chase after her. I quietly packed my things. The client had arranged a free, luxury single dorm room for me, and I could move in at any time. Just as I finished packing, I called the moving company. By the time most of my stuff was moved, I happened to run into Russell dropping Pamela off at home. They walked side by side, fingers interlaced, chatting and laughing. Pamela, usually cold and distant, was now looking down with a soft smile, standing next to Russell with the look of someone who was relying on him, the image of a gentle and obedient woman. Russell was the first to notice me and deliberately tightened his grip. Pamela, sensing something was off, followed his gaze and saw me. She quickly pulled her hand away. She walked up to me, ready to explain as usual, but when she saw me loading my things into the car, she froze for a moment before asking, “Where are you going so late?” Really? Couldn’t she see the moving company’s big sign on the side of the van? I was about to continue moving my things when Pamela blocked my way, suddenly shoving a bag of clothes into my hands. When I didn’t move, she took the clothes back and held them up to me. “I know you’ve been busy and haven’t had time to buy clothes. I passed by the mall and picked these up for you.” Bought for me? I wore XL sizes, but this brand of shirt was an M. On the receipt from the bag, the last four digits of the card used to pay were Pamela’s, and the total came to over ten thousand dollars. This wasn’t just a casual buy, was it? She probably picked it out for me while shopping with Russell. She was really generous. Just two days ago, I bought a 200-dollar shirt and asked her if it looked good. She’d scolded me for wasting money and lectured me for over an hour about how hard it was to make money. She even said no matter how nice my clothes were, they weren’t as important as real ability. So, what was this now? Money was easy to make, huh? I shoved my hands in my pockets and looked at them coldly. “No need. As the saying goes, a person is judged by their clothes, a horse by its saddle, and a dog runs happily with a bell. You can keep such an expensive gift for Mr. Burnett.” Russell paused when he heard this, and after a long moment, he suddenly threw the shirt down in anger. “You dare insult me?” His eyes were red as he glared at me and rushed toward me, ready to strike. I stayed where I was, and with one slap, he fell to the ground. “Not just that, I’d dare to hit you, too.” Russell was as thin as sticks. The only reason he could hit me earlier was because I was caught off guard. Now, I gave him a slap right back. Pamela screamed and rushed to hold Russell her face full of concern. “Scott! Let’s talk this out! Why are you hitting him? If you’re leaving, then leave, but don’t come back!” She didn’t need to say more. I wasn’t planning on returning. I turned around, got into the moving truck, and drove off toward a new life.

After I left, I directly joined the client’s company and was entrusted with an important role. Back at Pamela’s company, as the client, I was welcomed by the receptionist. As I walked into the office area, I saw Russell, now wearing a director’s badge, walking confidently between the employees’ desks, giving orders. “Make this logo a bit bigger but shrink that part. I didn’t say pure black. I meant the kind of iridescent black like a crow’s wings. “After looking at it again, the first version is still better overall. But I like the font from the seventh version, and the color from the sixteenth. Get it to me by the end of the day.” The office was filled with tension and frustration. Someone couldn’t hold back and retorted, “This design was approved by the client a long time ago. The main issue now is the program’s stability.” Russell snorted, “The client is just a nouveau riche. Does he even understand what true art is? I’m the one overseeing this, with my top-tier aesthetic sense. The client will definitely be satisfied. Maybe if he’s happy, he’ll even give us a bonus.” Please! Our company developed a new system just to make life easier for users, not to host an art exhibition online! And besides the colorful, illegible text, were they trying to contribute to the ophthalmology department at the hospital? With Russell’s level of work, it was no wonder the results were getting worse. The program crashed as soon as it started, and the quality had drastically fallen apart. A colleague spotted me, and the hostile glares I once received were now replaced with looks of desperation. As for Alan, the employee I had trained who used to talk big, he had been kicked out of the core team and was now relegated to fetching coffee with his own money. Russell gave me a contemptuous glance. “I guess I should recommend to Ms. Carlson that we need a security position. Otherwise, anyone and everyone will just waltz in.” The receptionist bent over, about to remind him to be careful with his words since I was representing the client. But before she could say anything, Pamela strutted by in sky-high heels, clearly thinking I had come to apologize. She scoffed, “Well, well, if it isn’t Mr. Hebert! Realized how tough it is to find a job now, so you’re back, huh?” Russell let out a chuckle and said in a seemingly kind tone, “I’ve always believed in Scott’s abilities. I think we can offer him a supervisory role. If he works under me, it won’t take long before he’ll make a name for himself.” Pamela crossed her arms, looking at me with disdain. “A supervisor? He’s not even close to being worthy of that! He can come back, but he’ll have to start from the bottom as an entry-level employee, with half the salary and no performance bonuses.” The other colleagues gasped, quickly distancing themselves from me, afraid the bad luck would rub off on them. I couldn’t hold back a laugh. Pamela still had no idea that I had transformed into her client, no longer that obedient little follower. Pamela raised an eyebrow, curious. “What are you laughing at?” I quietly pulled a contract out of my briefcase and slapped it onto the table. “Let me reintroduce myself. I’m Scott, the Director of the Technical Department at Nebula Group. I’m here to inform you project suspended, and contract terminated.”

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After my son went off to college, I gave him $2,000 a month for living expenses. Once he started dating, he’d always come to me, complaining, “Mom, how can I date with so little money? If you want a grandson, you better send me another $2,000!” To support his extravagant university lifestyle, I downloaded every loan app available and took out loans in his name. I did all this because I had sacrificed so much for him in the past. After graduating, he refused to get a job, insisting he needed to tackle life’s big milestones, like marriage and having kids. My husband and I reluctantly made the down payment when housing prices were at their highest. But when he couldn’t keep up with the mortgage payments, he turned violent towards me and his father, accusing us, “If you hadn’t bought me such an expensive house, would I be feeling this much pressure?” “I can’t repay it. You go earn money to pay it back for me, or I’ll hand this house back to you!” I was forced to work three jobs daily and eventually collapsed from exhaustion at work. This time, I made sure to damage his credit report first. Let’s see how he plans to secure a loan for another house now.

“Mom, I’m out of money this month. Could you send some more?” “Send a thousand, no, make it two thousand. The cafeteria food is awful and has given me diarrhea for three days. Eating out is expensive, but at least it doesn’t make me sick.” It’s only the 10th, and my son is already calling again. He’s a sophomore this year. Initially, his living expenses were $2,000, but in less than a year, he complained it wasn’t enough. It went up to $3,000, and even that barely lasts ten days now. In the past, I would have lectured him for ten minutes about saving money, reminding him how hard we work to earn it. But this time, I didn’t say anything. I calmly replied, “Okay, hold on. I’ll go get some cash for you.” I went to the app store, downloaded over ten loan apps, entered his ID, and borrowed $5,000. I sent him $2,000. He didn’t say a word, just a cold transaction on the screen. I took out a journal and noted the first loan for today. All of this because, in a previous life, I worked hard to put him through university. He insisted on getting married and brought home a pregnant Emily. The first thing he said was, “We need $30,000 for the bride price and a $200,000 house.” We didn’t have that kind of money, but seeing the young girl’s tearful face and my son’s pleading, I softened. We borrowed from every relative, scraping together $120,000—$30,000 for the bride price, the rest for the house’s down payment. My son was deeply moved. “Thank you, Mom and Dad. I’ll be a good son to you for life. You can relax at home and enjoy your grandchildren.” We couldn’t relax. We hustled to repay the relatives. Just as we thought we could catch a breath, my son came crying again. “Mom, help me. The mortgage is too much. I have a family to support. I just can’t keep up.” “Would you really let your son, grandson, and daughter-in-law be homeless?” “You and Dad work hard for a few more years, and once prices go up and salaries increase, the pressure will ease.” So, my husband and I went out again, financially supporting their little family. But after two years, not only did his salary not increase, but housing prices dropped, and the job market tightened. Someone in his neighborhood sold a similar house for $80,000. Worried about their pressure, I suggested selling our big house and moving to a smaller one. The difference could help pay his mortgage. But that led to him lashing out at us. “If you hadn’t bought such an expensive house for me, I wouldn’t be under this much pressure!” “I can’t pay it back. You go earn the money to pay it off, or I’ll just give the house back to you!” I took on another job. While washing dishes, I blacked out and collapsed.

As I watched my body fall, a colleague found me, and the boss immediately called an ambulance. But I knew I was dead. I saw my husband’s hair turn completely white overnight. He held my photo every day, not cooking or going to work, no matter how much our son berated him, he wouldn’t leave the house. Our son was busy. He dragged my body to the boss’s shop and left it there for two days. When the boss didn’t give in, he put up banners and made a ruckus every day. I watched as my son took the $50,000 the boss scraped together and left happily. He used it to eat and drink with his wife and son. No one cared that my body was still on the street. A young man finally informed my husband to retrieve me. After cremating and laying me to rest, my husband bashed his head against my tombstone and died. I woke up again, back to my son’s sophomore year. He had just secretly started dating a girl, doubling his living expenses. But at this point, our family still had some savings, and my husband and I hadn’t retired. We lived frugally, and things were manageable. I wasn’t that cruel. I just wanted to ruin his credit score so he couldn’t take out loans for a house. After he graduates, I won’t care about his life or death. After my son graduated, I put the house up for sale online. But three months before graduation, he brought Emily home. Emily, with a slightly bulging belly, timidly looked at me. “Hello, Auntie~” My son entered with a large bag of baby supplies. “Mom, Dad, this is Emily, your daughter-in-law.” “Hurry, call her Mom. This is your Dad. Don’t worry, my parents are really nice people.” Just as she was about to speak, I stopped her. “No, you haven’t even married yet. If word gets out, people will say we don’t have manners and bully young girls.” “Girl, sit down. I’ll get you some fruit.” At the dining table, I saw Emily repeatedly giving my son glances and occasionally making retching noises. I pretended not to notice, but eventually, my son couldn’t hold back. “Mom, I came back this time to get married. Emily is already carrying your grandson.” I rolled my eyes. In my past life, that grandson never called me Grandma. Whenever he saw me, it was like seeing trash—not a kick or spit. I thought he was just a kid, and I was too busy earning money to take him out to play like other grandmas, so I didn’t mind. Now that I think about it, this Emily, who gave such a great first impression, might not be as simple as I thought. “You’ve always taught me to be responsible as a man. You see if you can quickly contact Emily’s parents and set a date.” Yes, I taught him to be good to his wife and kids, and he did that. But I also taught him to be filial, yet he wouldn’t even take care of my corpse. “When are you and Dad available? I’ll talk to Emily’s parents.” “I’m free anytime. You decide and let us know.”

Emily got anxious but was too embarrassed to speak up, tugging at Michael Green’s sleeve. Michael Green looked at me, and I sipped my tea. “Mom, about the bride price, Emily said it’s quite high where she’s from.” I said, “Oh~” “If it weren’t for Emily being pregnant, I wouldn’t rely on you for everything.” “Don’t worry. Consider it a loan from you. I’ll repay it once I start working and earning.” I sighed. “Oh, Michael, let me be honest. Your university expenses were high these years, and we have no savings left.” He immediately changed his expression. “How much could I possibly spend each month? Are you just making excuses not to give?” “What kind of parents don’t prepare a house and car for their son, only caring about themselves?” “If I can’t marry, don’t expect me to support you in retirement.” “Go live in a dump!” I chuckled inside. This is my good son. If his parents don’t serve him as slaves, he shows his true colors. My husband couldn’t stand it and was about to speak, but I held his hand. “Son, it’s not that we’re not helping. We originally saved $50,000 for you.” “But look at how much you’ve spent over these years in university. Your monthly expenses are around $20,000. From sophomore year, for three years straight.” “And once, you said you broke your leg and needed surgery, so I transferred $5,000 to you. In total, it’s $52,000.” “Your marriage fund was spent by you. Where can we find money for the bride price now?” He was speechless, his face red. “If you don’t want to give, don’t. Why make so many excuses? How could I possibly spend over $50,000 in college?” “I’ve never seen parents like you. Since you don’t care, my son won’t acknowledge you. My son doesn’t have stingy grandparents. You don’t deserve it!” “Emily, let’s go! I can support you on my own!” “You both can keep your measly money to yourselves!” He slammed the door and left. Only Emily, looking pitiful, glanced back at me every few steps. After my son left, my husband was a bit upset with me. “Honey, don’t we still have savings? Why are you doing this to our son?” “Besides, nowadays, having a son means preparing a house and bride price for him.” “I’ve never met parents like you. Since you don’t care, my son won’t recognize you anymore. He won’t have stingy grandparents like you! You don’t deserve it!” “Lila, let’s go! I can take care of you myself!” “You two just hold onto your money and live your own lives!” With that, I slammed the door and left. Lila kept turning back to look at me, looking pitiful with every step she took. After our son left, my husband expressed his frustration. “Dear, we still have savings. Why are you making things hard for our son?” “Besides, it’s normal now for parents to prepare a house and wedding money for their sons.” “Look at what’s happened. He doesn’t want anything to do with us, and we won’t get to see our grandchild. When we’re old and sick, who will look after us?” I looked at my soft-hearted husband and asked, “Do you really think we can rely on a son like this for our care?” He didn’t have a reply, and after a while, he sighed. “Forget it. It’s fine with just the two of us. At least we won’t have so many worries.” 0

Isn’t it just a mess? In my previous life, he didn’t even claim my body, treating me only as a tool to extort money. We raised him for over twenty years, and he was less helpful than a dog. Just to be safe, I transferred most of the money to a card that neither my son nor my husband knew about. On the street, I saw a young man selling balloons in the cold wind. I was taken aback. It was the same young man from my past life who took care of my body after I died. Spring had just started, but it was still cold. He was wearing a thin black jacket. His face and nose were red from the cold. Since I wandered for a long time after my death in the last life, I know he has no parents. He only has an elderly grandmother at home, who is often sick and frail. So, he has to use all his time working. I took some free time, found his school, contacted his tutor, and quietly supported him. His name is Ethan, and he is currently a sophomore. He excels in his studies, receives a scholarship every year, and his tuition is waived. But because of his grandmother’s health, life is still challenging. I knew James wouldn’t let this go. After all, he hasn’t even graduated yet, so how could he support a wife and child? But I didn’t expect him to change so quickly. Within a week, he invited us to dinner at a hotel on Sunday night. I refused, but my husband is soft-hearted since we raised him ourselves. Parents can’t ignore their children’s major life events. I couldn’t convince him otherwise, so I had to go and let him see our son’s true nature. As soon as we entered, there was a strong smell of cigarette smoke. A young man, about twenty years old, with slicked-back hair. His feet were on the table, holding a cigarette. A heavily made-up middle-aged woman saw me but said nothing to me. Instead, she spoke to the boy. “Sit up; someone’s here.” After a while, our son came in. A woman’s voice rang out. “Let’s be clear, our family wants a $30,000 bride price, not a penny less.” “After all, we didn’t raise our daughter for free. Thirty thousand is not much.” “She’s carrying your family’s grandson now.” “And you can’t skimp on a house. My daughter won’t live with her in-laws! You need to prepare a big house, at least a hundred square meters.” “Otherwise, we won’t be able to stay when we visit her.” “Just write their names on it. If you agree, pay the bride price first, then we can discuss the wedding date.”

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Twenty-five years ago, the nanny secretly swapped me with her daughter, but my six-year-old brother discovered the trick and quietly swapped us back. Now, 25 years later, the nanny showed up at my door with her daughter, claiming I was the fake heir of Wales Group. Even the janitor at the company started whispering behind my back, criticizing my lipstick as cheap. My boyfriend, Collin Ross, even joined in to humiliate me. “You really thought you were the Wales family’s daughter? You’re not even worth a single strand of Erika’s hair!” After the paternity test results came out, everyone was stunned. Collin begged me, “Jessie, I was manipulated by that bitch! Please forgive me. Give me another chance.” I shot him a cold glance. “What kind of chance? You mean the chance to clean the toilet?” Just as I entered the company restroom, I ran into the new janitor, Erika Waston. Her gaze lingered on my lipstick. In a mocking tone, she said, “Ms. Wales, I didn’t expect someone of your status would use such cheap products. This lipstick is only 19.9 dollars for three with a gift box!” I didn’t believe her words. The lipstick was a special gift from Collin, personally selected by him through a luxury personal shopper. He said it cost 2,000 dollars for three. Seeing my face fall, Erika seemed to realize her mistake and hurriedly left. As I stepped out of the restroom, I saw Yolanda Hall standing at the baby care room door, looking furious. It was rare to see her so angry, so I gently asked her what happened, and she immediately vented her frustration. “I went to change a diaper in the room, and who would’ve thought I’d find a used condom on the changing table! Who’s that shameless? Doing that kind of thing in the baby care room! I’m so pissed off! I don’t even know if there’s some dirty disease involved!” As the VP of the company, my anger surged. I immediately called the security office to review the surveillance footage and find out what happened. After giving those instructions, I headed to Collin’s office to complain this to him. When I walked in, I saw Erika, now wearing a slightly transparent deep V-neck shirt, mopping the floor. Her cleavage was practically spilling out. Collin glanced up at me, his face turning pale as he wiped away some nosebleeds. “The weather’s been dry lately. You need to drink more water, Jessica. I didn’t hear you knock because I was busy working.” I didn’t question him. After all, we’d been together for eight years since college. “Did you forget it? I never knock when I come in here,” I replied. Collin visibly tensed up, and I was about to ask what was going on when Erika interrupted. She shot a sly remark. “Ms. Wales, when you buy cosmetics, you should really go to a counter. Don’t buy those cheap things online. After all, you’re putting it on your face; you can’t afford to skimp.” I froze for a second, realizing she was talking about my lipstick. That lipstick was a Valentine’s gift from Collin, not some cheap knockoff. I was about to clarify with Collin, but before I could speak, he quickly said, “Jessica, that proposal you mentioned earlier was good, but I think it still needs some adjustments.” His words distracted me, but I couldn’t find my pen. Erika, eager to help, volunteered to grab one for me. As she reached for it, she tripped and fell straight into Collin’s arms. Her tight deep-V shirt couldn’t contain the fall, and her buttons popped open, revealing a stunning view. Collin, flustered, tried to help her rebutton, but the more nervous he became, the harder it was to fix. Erika, equally flustered, struggled to fasten her shirt, but instead, she ended up gasping for breath.

I watched the awkward scene between the two of them and cleared my throat. Collin suddenly snapped back to reality and pushed Erika away. “Jessica, I was just trying to help her with her buttons. It wasn’t intentional,” he stammered. Before he could say more, I interrupted him. “Enough. Go get me a coffee.” I’d known Collin long enough to understand his character. I suspected Erika, the scheming woman, was behind this, and since we were alone, I’d finally get some answers. To my surprise, Erika got up and walked out ahead of Collin. “Ms. Wales, let me get it for you.” She returned quickly with a cup of coffee. I didn’t even need to look to know it was instant coffee, while I only drank freshly brewed. I frowned and didn’t touch the cup. Erika’s voice quivered as she said, “Ms. Wales, you don’t like the coffee I made? I washed my hands really well before making it.” Collin, who usually indulged me, chimed in, “Jessica, don’t be so hard on Erika. She’s never made coffee before, and she doesn’t know how to grind it. Just drink a little, for her sake.” Still, I didn’t respond, and Erika began apologizing, her voice filled with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Ms. Wales. I come from a poor family. I’ve never had enough to eat or warm clothes, and my mom was always beating or scolding me. I’ve never had anything as nice as coffee. Please don’t laugh at me.” I was stunned by her sudden emotional outburst, and though I didn’t understand, it seemed to have an effect on Collin. His tone grew sharp as he said, “Jessica, I didn’t expect you to be so heartless. It’s just a cup of coffee. Why make a fuss over it and make things difficult for a young girl? You’re a VP now. Don’t make things harder for your subordinates!” Without another word, he grabbed the coffee and drank it all in one gulp. I couldn’t believe his reaction. But what shocked me more was Erika’s: she lunged forward, snatched the cup from Collin, and shouted, “Mr. Ross, don’t drink it! Please don’t!” Collin and I both stared at her in confusion. Her eyes darted around, obviously guilty. I immediately checked the surveillance footage. As I suspected, Erika had used toilet water to make the coffee. Fuming, I demanded, “Why did you do this? You better explain yourself, now!” I was about to call the police when Collin snatched my phone away. “Jessica, Erika’s young and ignorant. You don’t need to make a big deal out of this. You didn’t drink the coffee, and I’ve already had some without saying anything. Let’s just let it go.” Collin’s response only made my anger grow. “Why should I let it go? She looks older than my mother, and you’re saying she’s ignorant? She wanted me to drink it, but you drank it by mistake. If she’s willing to use toilet water to make coffee today, who’s to say she won’t poison me tomorrow? Why shouldn’t I call the police?” Realizing I was serious about calling the police, Collin tried to slam my phone down, but I snatched it back just in time. Before I could do anything else, Erika suddenly shoved Collin away and screamed at me, “You fake woman! Why are you stealing my place and my man?” Before I could process her words, my phone buzzed with a video from the security room. It was about the baby care room. I clicked on the video, which clearly showed Collin and Erika entering the room and staying there for almost an hour. After they left, Yolanda entered with a child and stormed out in anger. It was clear that the condom found in the room was left by Collin and Erika. I couldn’t believe it. The boyfriend I trusted most had been fooling around with a janitor behind my back. No wonder he’d been defending Erika so fiercely. Before I could even react, Collin stopped pretending. “The truth is, I like Erika, not you, the fake daughter! Erika’s gentle, kind, and considerate, while you just act like you’re on a pedestal all the time. You probably didn’t know, did you? The real heir to Wales Group is Erika, not you. You’re just an imposter!”

Just then, the office door creaked open, and my parents walked in, followed by a group of shareholders. My dad spoke first, “Collin, you said you had an urgent matter. What’s going on?” My mom added, “Yeah, what could be so important that it could affect the survival of Wales Group?” Collin glanced at me before answering, “Mr. Wales, Mrs. Wales, if you didn’t come, Wales Group might be taken over by outsiders!” The shareholders were shocked and immediately turned to me, asking what was happening. I could only force a smile and shake my head because I had no idea either. Erika walked up to my parents and suddenly collapsed in front of them. “Mom! Dad!” My parents froze, instinctively stepping back. My dad reacted the most strongly, pointing at Erika and shouting, “Who are you?! I’ve never betrayed my wife. I have only two children—Jessie and William!” Through her sobs, Erika said, “Dad, Mom, I was swapped with Jessica by the nanny, Mary. I’m your real daughter! Ever since I was little, Mary would hit and scold me whenever she was unhappy. I often went without food. I didn’t understand why my mom was so harsh with me, but one day I saw the footage from the old maternity center and realized I wasn’t even her biological child.” Many people in the room had red eyes, moved by her story. But my dad, having weathered many storms, wasn’t so easily swayed. “Do you have any proof of this?” Erika quickly pulled out her phone and cast the video onto the screen. The video was from over 20 years ago when my mom stayed at a high-end maternity center with cameras in every room. The video showed a nanny entering my mom’s room and taking one child out, then returning a short while later with another child dressed identically. The footage was over 20 years old, so the quality was poor, and it was impossible to tell if the two children were the same. After watching, my mom collapsed on the sofa, sobbing, “How could this happen? This can’t be true! I watched over my child day and night. How could she have been swapped?” My dad didn’t speak, but his face turned pale. Collin saw they were wavering but still unsure, so he tried to push further. “Mr. Wales, Mrs. Wales, now that we know the mistake, we need to correct it right away. We can’t let outsiders take advantage of the situation. Erika has suffered all these years. We need to make it up to her.” He then looked at me. “And those who shouldn’t be here—they need to be cleared out.” Several shareholders whispered to each other. “It makes sense. Since Jessica isn’t the Wales family’s biological daughter, she can’t keep her position as VP.” “Exactly, she’s an outsider. Who knows when she might turn against us?” “Before we deal with Jessica, we need to bring Erika in and train her properly.” I wasn’t interested in their conversation, though. I was focused on watching the video again. Something about one of the people in it seemed familiar. Seeing me replaying the video, Collin sneered, “Stop watching. Even if you study that video a hundred times, it won’t change the fact that you’re an imposter. The truth is right in front of you; how can you still sit here with any dignity?” Erika quickly interjected, “Collin, don’t say that. Mary is the one at fault, not Jessica. Let her have some time to accept the truth, and she’ll leave on her own.” I gave them both a cold look and ignored their words, instead asking, “Who’s the little boy standing behind Mary in the video?” Everyone froze in shock upon hearing my question.

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Our family business goes bankrupt, and my father decides we need to flee the country. As we approach the airport, a sleek black Maybach suddenly cuts us off, blocking the road completely. “Trying to skip town without settling your debt?” The cold, menacing voice comes from inside the car. Stepping out is Julian Knight, our largest creditor. A burly bodyguard in black drags my father out of the driver’s seat, forcing him to his knees with a harsh kick. My father crumples to the ground in front of Julian, bowing his head desperately. “Please, sir, have mercy. I… I have no way to repay the debt.” Julian presses the tip of his polished shoe against my father’s chin, lifting his face. “No money? Then give me your daughter. That will clear your debt.” Relief flashes across my father’s face. Without a moment’s hesitation, he scrambles to his feet, yanks me out of the back seat, and shoves me toward Julian. “This is my mute daughter, Celeste,” he says eagerly. “From now on, she’s yours. Do with her whatever you want.”

I stumbled backward, panic flooding through me as I looked at my father with pleading eyes, begging him not to do this. But he remained unmoved. “I’ve let you live a privileged life for years, even though you’re mute. I’ve fulfilled my duty as a father. Now it’s your turn to repay me.” As if afraid Julian might change his mind, my father hurried back to the car, threw one last cold command my way—”Make sure you serve him well!”—and slammed his foot on the gas, speeding off with the rest of my family without a backward glance. “Come with me,” Julian said, his cold fingertips brushing against my wrist. A shiver ran down my spine, and before I could stop myself, I bolted, running after my father’s car as it disappeared into the night. A bodyguard in black effortlessly tripped me with a subtle nudge of his foot, sending me crashing to the ground. My head hit the pavement with a sickening thud, and the rough asphalt scraped against my elbows and knees, leaving patches of raw, bloody skin. The same bodyguard hauled me up like I weighed nothing, tossing me into the back seat of the Maybach. The driver started the car, heading straight for Knight Estate. The night deepened, and in the dim glow of the car’s interior, Julian sat in the front seat, his expression cold and unreadable. His voice, low and laced with irritation, broke the silence. “Didn’t you have a crush on me in college? You should be thrilled to marry me now. But instead, you’re trying to run away? Hah. Women really are fickle.” His words pierced through me, and tears began to stream down my face uncontrollably. Yes, once, I had loved Julian deeply. He was the only person who had ever treated me like an equal. But I never imagined that love could have nearly killed me.

Back in school, I was the outcast. My classmates couldn’t stand me, insisting that someone like me—a mute—didn’t belong in a normal school. They said I should’ve gone to a “special” one, far away from them. No one wanted to sit next to me. Julian, however, willingly offered to take the seat by my side. To me, it was like a drowning person finding a lifeline. I was overwhelmed with gratitude for his kindness, and before I knew it, I had started to develop feelings for him. His friends teased him relentlessly for his “odd taste,” laughing that he’d chosen a mute girl as a desk partner. But Julian just shrugged, his tone light and dismissive. “The other girls are all too noisy. At least she lets me focus.” Quietly, I began showing my affection in small ways. I’d leave breakfast in his locker every morning, and when he missed class because he was sick, I’d meticulously write up notes and slip them into his bag. I knew I didn’t deserve him. I never dared to dream of having him. All I wanted was to see him happy, and I was willing to do anything for him. Then Julian got a girlfriend. Her name was Victoria Hale—beautiful, vibrant, and utterly ruthless. From the very first day of their relationship, Victoria launched what she called her “clean-up campaign,” targeting every girl who so much as glanced at Julian. And as his desk partner, I became her first victim. After school one day, Victoria cornered me with a group of girls. They pushed me to the ground and yanked my bag away, rummaging through it until they found the one thing I feared most—a thick blue notebook filled with pages and pages of my written confessions, all dedicated to Julian. Victoria’s expression darkened as she flipped through the pages. She grabbed my chin and slapped me hard across the face. Then, she tore the notebook apart, plastering five of its pages on the school bulletin board for everyone to see. The next day, the entire school was whispering, laughing behind their hands. A mute girl in love with the school’s most popular guy? It was unthinkable. “Can you believe it? Celeste Whitmore? A mute! And she thinks she has a chance with Julian?” “Julian’s girlfriend is Victoria Hale. What the hell is Celeste thinking?” The laughter stung worse than the slap. Victoria stood at the center of it all, smug and triumphant. I couldn’t even tear the pages down that night. Victoria and her friends had dragged me into the girls’ restroom, drenched me in ice-cold water, and locked me inside until morning. When I finally got home, I came down with a fever that no amount of medication could break. A week later, I was still bedridden, struggling to recover. The doctors eventually diagnosed me with fulminant myocarditis, caused by the cold. I spent a month in the ICU, teetering on the edge of death. When I was finally discharged, the thought of returning to school made my entire body shake. In the end, I had no choice but to take a leave of absence. By the time I mustered the courage to return a year later, Julian and Victoria had already graduated. Only then could I finally finish my studies in peace. Julian’s words about how “women are so fickle” weren’t just meant for me—they were also a jab at Victoria. Victoria was supposed to marry him next week. But just days before the wedding, she vanished. Julian eventually found out where she was—partying overseas with her friends, surrounded by handsome, blond strangers. She’d ignored his calls, turned off her phone, and thrown herself into a whirlwind of wild hedonism. Julian had been livid. To teach Victoria a lesson, he decided to replace her as his bride. And who better to spite her with than me—the one girl Victoria had always loathed most? I’d overheard my father gleefully gossiping about it one evening. “Julian’s had everything handed to him his whole life, and now he’s finally hit a wall with that Victoria girl.” He’d laughed as if Julian’s humiliation somehow eased his own failures. Now, I was to be part of Julian’s revenge. Marrying me was the cruelest way to mock Victoria. But for me, just thinking about Victoria’s face made my heart pound with dread. A sinking feeling settled in my gut. This marriage wasn’t going to be a fresh start. It was going to be the beginning of my end.

My first night at Knight Estate was sleepless. I tossed and turned until dawn, only to finally drift off for a brief moment before being abruptly woken up by Julian’s appointed stylists and makeup artists. They apologized profusely as they informed me of an urgent change: Julian had decided to move the wedding up to today. Unwilling but unable to resist, I was ushered into the dressing room. Julian was already there, his eyes glued to his phone. From the moment I entered to the moment I sat down, he didn’t spare me so much as a glance. The stylist retrieved a mermaid-style wedding gown from the wardrobe. It was stunningly beautiful but tailored for someone else—Victoria. The dress slid off my frame with the slightest movement. It was obvious that it had been designed for Victoria’s curvaceous figure. On my frail and petite body, the dress hung awkwardly, like a child trying on an adult’s clothes. Clutching the edge of the ill-fitting gown, I approached Julian, trying to communicate that the dress didn’t fit and pleading for the wedding to be delayed until a proper gown could be found. I stammered incoherent sounds, gesturing with my hands to express my thoughts. Julian let out an irritated click of his tongue and slammed his phone onto the table. “I thought you were quieter than other women,” he said, his voice cold. “But now I see that your little noises are even more grating. Stop flailing around like a monkey. I don’t understand sign language, and I don’t care to. Just do as you’re told. I don’t have time for your opinions.” My knees wobbled, and my eyes brimmed with tears. The stylist quickly stepped in to diffuse the tension. “We can adjust it, Miss. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” she said softly. She took out a needle and thread, pinching the gown tighter to make it fit. The once-beautiful wedding dress now bore obvious folds and stitches on the back—a stark reminder of how this wedding, much like my marriage to Julian, was cobbled together out of necessity rather than love. Once my makeup was done, it was time to head to the venue. But before we could leave, the dressing room door was abruptly kicked open. Victoria had arrived. Julian’s face lit up with triumph. He had deliberately leaked the news about the wedding and my role as the substitute bride, ensuring Victoria would find out. The fact that she showed up now meant his plan had worked. In his mind, this was a victory. Victoria stormed toward me, and in an instant, memories of her past torments flashed through my mind: the blue diary she tore to shreds, the ice-cold water she poured over me, and the nights she locked me in the school restroom while hurling insults from the other side. Did loving someone quietly, from afar, warrant such cruelty? I clenched my fists in defiance. Victoria raised her hand, ready to slap me, but I grabbed her wrist before it could land. My nails dug into her skin, and for the first time, I fought back. “What gives you the right to hit me?” I screamed internally. “Julian was the one who chose to marry me. Why aren’t you taking this up with him?” Victoria winced in pain. “You wretched mute! How dare you fight back!” she spat, her free hand rising for another strike. This time, Julian intercepted her. He stood between us, his expression colder than I’d ever seen. “Get out,” he said, his voice flat but final. Victoria’s fury morphed into desperation as she softened her tone, pleading with Julian. “Julian, please! I just wanted to clear my head before the wedding. I’m back now, and I won’t leave you again. Don’t be mad, okay?” “No,” Julian replied, his tone unwavering. He gestured to his bodyguards, who wasted no time dragging Victoria out of the estate. “Julian, no! Please, I’m sorry! Forgive me!” Victoria’s cries echoed through the hallway. Julian’s lips curled into a smirk. He had no intention of forgiving her so easily. Letting her off now wouldn’t satisfy his need to teach her a lesson. He planned to break her completely before considering reconciliation. The wedding went on as planned, but Julian’s empty gaze as he stood before me made it clear that this was no celebration. His thoughts were miles away, tethered to Victoria, leaving behind only a hollow shell to go through the motions.

That night, in our bridal suite, I grabbed a pen and paper and carefully wrote, “Now that you’ve had your revenge on Victoria, can’t you let me go? Please let me leave.” Julian’s brow furrowed as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to meet his icy gaze. “I married you to erase your family’s one-billion-dollar debt,” he said, his voice low and venomous. “And now you think that debt only buys me one day with you? Like father, like daughter. You’re both delusional.” He leaned in closer, his words biting. “I’ll let you go when I’m done. When I’ve fixed Victoria, when I’m ready to move on—then, and only then, can you leave. Until that day, you’re mine. Don’t even think about running.” Before I could react, Julian’s lips crashed down on mine. His kiss was fierce and punishing, stealing the air from my lungs. I tried to push him away, but it was useless. He ripped the dress from my body, pinning me beneath him. Then, the phone on the bedside table buzzed. Julian smirked, reaching for it. I shook my head frantically, trying to stop him, but he paid no attention. Grabbing my wrists, he pinned them above my head, his movements growing more brutal as he answered the video call. “No!” Victoria’s scream rang out from the other end of the call. “Julian, please stop! Stop torturing me!” she cried. Julian’s voice dripped with mockery. “Couldn’t handle it, could you? Did you ever think about how I felt while you were partying overseas, fooling around with those men?” “I’m sorry!” Victoria sobbed. “I was wrong! Please, tell me what I have to do for you to forgive me. If not, I’ll just end it. I’ll jump!” A sudden gust of wind roared through the phone’s speaker. Victoria stood on a rooftop, her face pale with despair. For the first time that night, fear flickered in Julian’s eyes. He quickly threw on his clothes and left the room without another word. I lay there on the bed, tears streaming down my face. Four years ago, Victoria’s torment had nearly driven me to death. But nothing she did back then compared to the humiliation Julian inflicted tonight. He had stripped me bare—not just physically, but emotionally—offering up my pain as entertainment for Victoria. At that moment, I stopped caring about my father or Julian’s threats. No one had ever asked if I wanted any of this. I wasn’t a commodity. I was a person. I deserved to live, and I deserved my freedom. With the estate guards relaxed after the wedding, tonight was my best chance to escape.

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