Author: Momo Chan

I am a patient in a vegetative state. Before I jumped off a building, I carried a specific title: the fake heiress. Once, the world revolved around me. But when the true heiress returned, I became the cuckoo that stole the dove’s nest. My dad guarded his assets against me, my mom asked me to move out, my older brother called me a thief, and my fiancé broke off our engagement entirely. My sins were grave, my crimes unforgivable. I had nothing left to compensate them with, except my one and only life. But I couldn’t even jump off a building right. Instead of dying, I turned myself into a vegetable. Lying in this bed, trapped in a living death, my still-conscious mind heard my former family weeping: “Harper, please wake up. We misunderstood you…” But what they didn’t know was that I would never wake up. How could someone who had abandoned every single ounce of their will to live ever wake up? 1 I lay in the hospital bed, completely paralyzed. I couldn’t do anything but breathe. My attempt to jump off the building had failed, leaving me in a vegetative state. But my hearing remained intact. I could hear every sound around me. I heard the quiet, hollow emptiness of my hospital room. Only the footsteps of doctors and nurses echoed back and forth. Oh, one girl did come to visit me. Her name was Chloe Kensington. I used to be Chloe Kensington, too. Once upon a time. Now, that name belonged to her, and I had changed mine to Harper Miller. After all, she was the real heiress, and I was the fake one. She had been taken by my biological parents and suffered through a life of hardship, while I stayed in the Kensington estate, enjoying a life of luxury and endless privilege. Yet now, lying in this hospital, she was the only one who came to see me. She sat by my bed, using a cotton swab to moisten my dry lips. “I’m going abroad. I never intended for this drama to turn into a tragedy. Harper, get better soon. Go home. I don’t blame you anymore…” I genuinely couldn’t move. If I could, I would have smiled a bitter smile. Even if she didn’t blame me, I could never go home. The people in that house were no longer the family who loved me deeply. Aside from me, no one even remembered that we once loved each other. The turning point happened one day when my brother ran into a girl who looked exactly like him. She even had the same signature red birthmark by her eye that ran in my father’s bloodline. Feeling an inexplicable connection, my brother brought her home. When my parents saw her, they were stunned. They looked at her, then looked at me—who bore little resemblance to anyone in the family—and fell into a deep silence. A few days later, a DNA test declared my true identity: a fake heiress. My biological parents’ last name was Miller. Years ago, my biological mother had given birth in the same hospital, on the exact same day as my adoptive mother. Before discharge, my adoptive dad had gotten drunk at a business dinner, and my adoptive mom was distracted talking to a cosmetic consultant about postpartum recovery. The Millers were busy with God knows what, and in the confusion, the babies were swapped. As the Kensington empire grew, I was spoiled and pampered. Meanwhile, the true daughter of the Kensington family struggled to make ends meet in the Miller household. I was raised as a delicate little princess. Chloe Kensington, on the other hand, fought her way up, eventually landing an internship at my dad’s company while finishing her studies. That was where my brother found her. The rest of the story was a cliché. The princess returned to the palace. And the wicked maid who stole her nest—who still shamelessly craved their affection—was humiliated until she was utterly broken and discarded. The only deviation from the script was that the wicked maid was supposed to be executed. Instead, I survived, turning into a vegetable, dragging out a miserable existence where I couldn’t even end my own life. This was perhaps an even crueler punishment. I heard Chloe say, “Harper, get well soon. Mom, Dad, and Carter are waiting for you at home.” She fell silent for a moment before adding, “By the way, Liam is going abroad with me. Did he come to see you? He probably told you, right?” I felt my breathing stall. It was as if my nervous system was intentionally trying to shut down my respiratory functions. Liam was my fiancé. If nothing had happened, we would have been officially engaged next month. The suffocation caused my heart rate to fluctuate wildly, and the monitor began to beep frantically. Chloe quickly ran to get the doctor. The doctor rushed in, checked the monitors, and sighed. “Given her current condition, whenever her bodily functions start to recover even slightly, it’s as if the patient is using her own subjective consciousness to cut off her own life force. She immediately starts failing again.” The doctor spoke solemnly. “You are her sister, right? Why haven’t your parents visited even once? Right now, I suspect the patient simply doesn’t want to wake up. If this continues, she will…” I heard Chloe freeze, suddenly panicking. “I’ll go home right now and tell my parents and brother!” She turned and ran. But I felt the urge to laugh. They wouldn’t come. They hated me to death. I was a thief. 2 I thought I knew my family well. No, wait—Chloe’s family. But facts proved me wrong. My mom—or rather, my adoptive mom—actually came. She sat next to me. I couldn’t see her, but I could hear her voice. “Doctor, haven’t we paid enough for her treatments? Why is she still deteriorating?” The doctor paused, explaining by the book: “Currently, the patient herself has lost the will to live. Some things cannot be solved by medicine. With many illnesses, once the patient gives up hope, their body quickly collapses. This psychological issue requires the cooperation of her family.” My mom sounded annoyed. I could hear it in her tone. “I know her better than anyone. She loves luxury, she loves going out and having fun. She is not the type to just give up on life.” The doctor was stunned again. After a moment, he asked hesitantly, “Do you still wish to continue her treatments? If not, you actually have the option to pull the plug…” My mom flared up. “Who said we don’t want to?! She is my daugh—” She stopped herself mid-sentence. After a long pause, she muttered, “She called me Mom for twenty years, at least.” The doctor then suggested, “In that case, try thinking about the books she used to like, the shows she watched, the celebrities she followed. Read to her, talk to her. Maybe it will strengthen her will to live.” My mom thought about it and called my brother. I heard my brother’s cheerful voice echo through the receiver. “Mom, I’m helping Liam plan his proposal right now. What’s up?” A proposal. If I could control my eyelids, I would have shed a tear. Holding it in was agonizing. Liam was going to propose to Chloe. My mom also froze for a second, then simply said, “Mm. Come home and bring the books Harper used to love to the hospital. I want to read to her.” My brother sounded deeply impatient. “That’s what doctors and nurses are for. Why are you stressing over this? As long as we pay the hospital bills, who cares?” My mom paused. She didn’t say anything else; she just told him to hurry up and bring the books before hanging up. I completely understood their behavior. In their eyes, I had stolen the true heiress’s life and ruined Chloe. I had ruined the Kensington family. In her second month back home, my mom discovered Chloe had depression. Chloe said she kept thinking about those years of grinding poverty. In those years, she was forced to do hard labor until her hands were covered in cracked, bleeding chilblains. Because of their poverty, the Millers grew increasingly violent, and she was relentlessly mocked at school. My mom broke down. Looking at Chloe’s scarred hands, she wept uncontrollably. I stood to the side, completely at a loss. I didn’t know what to say. I just felt a primal fear. Just the day before, I was the beloved princess of the Kensington family. How did I suddenly become a sinful imposter? Seeing me zone out, my mom looked at me with eyes colder than ice for the first time. “Shouldn’t you say something?” I stood there, frozen. I had always been the little girl who rolled around in my mother’s embrace. My mom used to say that even when I grew up, I would still be her baby. I even jokingly called myself a mama’s girl. But now, she was looking at me with absolute freezing hatred. She hadn’t even looked that cold when our maid was caught stealing. My face instantly flushed red. A lifetime of being pampered had blinded me to the impending crisis. I even stomped my foot and whined, “Mom, don’t look at me like that!” My mom gripped Chloe’s hand, gritting her teeth. “Then how should I look at you? Should I throw a parade to thank your biological parents?!” Your parents… I instantly fell silent. A profound, suffocating terror bloomed in my chest. The mother who had given me all her love, the person I was closest to in the world—she was gone. Even though, on the day they found Chloe, my mom had told me I was still her child and I just had a new sister… instinct told me things would not end up that way. Something absolutely terrifying was about to happen. 3 My brother arrived quickly with the books he had dug out of my old bookshelf. I was never a big reader, so there weren’t many books there. Growing up, my dad always told me that if studying was too hard, I shouldn’t bother. He said I was the Kensington princess, and the Kensington family didn’t need me to be a scholar. He told me to just eat, drink, and shop—seeing me happy was what gave him the motivation to make money. But when Chloe returned, my dad looked at her Ivy League resume and beamed with pride, giving himself a thumbs up. “As expected of Kensington blood. Good seed blooms beautifully no matter where you plant it.” After saying that, he glanced at me, a flash of realization crossing his eyes. That look of realization made me want to crawl into a hole. So, I was the bad seed. Chloe’s study was packed with books, and she truly loved reading. Meanwhile, my study still only had one set of fairy tales. I only loved reading fairy tales, even as I grew older. That set of fairy tales was bought for me by my brother when we were little. He had always been cold to me. It was the only gift he had ever given me. But because I loved following him around as a kid, I treasured that gift more than anything. He handed the book to my mom, coughed, and said somewhat awkwardly, “Why did she even keep such old, beat-up books?” I treasured that set of books deeply. Even when I finally moved out of the Kensington estate, I had wanted to take them with me. But my brother had watched me like a hawk, terrified I was trying to steal something valuable. In a fit of anger, I left them behind. My mom opened the fairy tale book. Her cold fingers hesitantly brushed against the withered, bony back of my hand, trying to soften her voice. “Harper, I’m going to read to you. Wake up soon.” The first story in the book was Snow White. My mom read a few sentences and stopped. “Did she really like this kind of stuff?” I had no way of telling her that I did. I had been reading it the night before I moved out, and my tears had even stained the pages. My brother, surprisingly, understood me. “She liked it. Look how worn the pages are.” My mom continued reading: “The little princess had skin as white as snow, hair as black as ebony, and lips as red as blood… She had a kind heart and loved playing with the animals in the forest…” As she read, my mom suddenly paused. As if remembering something. After a while, she forced a strained smile at my brother. “Doesn’t this sound exactly like Harper when she was little? Snow-white skin, dark hair, always loving little animals.” She suddenly remembered, “The stray cats near the house… no one’s fed them in a long time. Once Harper moved out, no one took care of them, right?” Someone did. Even after I moved out, I still came back to feed them, Mom. Because they were the only ones who still wanted to be near me. Even after I decided to die, I bought a massive amount of cat food and asked a volunteer I knew to keep feeding them. My brother didn’t say anything, seemingly lost in thought as well. After a moment, he reminded my mom, “Don’t mention stuff like this in front of Chloe. She’s getting engaged to Liam soon. She needs to be in a good mood.” My mom quickly agreed and kept reading. When she reached the part where Snow White gets a stepmother, she paused again. I think that was because I had a habit of writing my thoughts in the margins. I remembered what I wrote there when I was a kid: So scary. Thank God I have the best mom in the whole world who loves me so much. My mom got stuck reading that line. Thankfully, she only froze for a moment before pushing through, though her voice was noticeably unsteady. When she got to the part where the stepmother gives Snow White the poisoned apple, she stopped again. I remembered my margin note there, too: Why did she hate Snow White so much? She even called her Mom! After being called Mom for so many years, didn’t her heart soften even a little bit? Snow White didn’t know anything, she just treated her like a real mother! I remembered that note so clearly because I didn’t write it when I was a kid. I wrote it right before I left the house. Every word was written through tears, leaving deep indentations on the paper. My mom suddenly started coughing violently. It was a terrifying, chest-rattling cough that startled my brother. He snatched the book from her hands. “Mom, you should go home. The smell in here is awful. Don’t choke on it.” My mom kept coughing and ignored him. He added, “Chloe is getting engaged. Go back and help her plan it. It’s her first time getting engaged; she doesn’t know what to do.” My mom finally stopped coughing. She agreed, turned to leave, and told my brother as she walked out, “You keep reading to Harper. Read a few more stories.” My brother sounded impatient. “I know.” Right then, the doctor walked in and looked surprised. “You’re leaving so soon? It’s only been ten minutes.” My mom brushed it off. “Something came up at home. Her brother will stay with her.” She paused, then asked hesitantly, “Doctor, is it really true that she is consciously choosing not to live?” The doctor was firm. “Of course. Let’s not forget how she ended up in a vegetative state in the first place.” My mom fell silent. But I heard my brother scoff. “She’s so greedy and terrified of dying. There’s no way. She was probably just trying to scare me into giving her money and took it too far.” 3 A month before I jumped, I did ask my brother for money. My biological father, Mr. Miller, was hospitalized and they couldn’t afford the medical bills. They couldn’t reach Chloe because she was on a business trip, so they cautiously came to me, asking if they could borrow some money. But I had just moved out of the Kensington estate. To prove that I wasn’t greedy and wasn’t trying to fight Chloe for the inheritance, I had returned every single cent I had to my brother when I left. My brother had drawled lazily, “I’ll hold onto it for you. Someone as lazy and spoiled as you will come crawling back for it eventually.” What did I say back then? I said I had hands and feet. Even if I wasn’t as smart as Chloe, finding a job to feed just myself wouldn’t be a problem. My brother had watched me leave with a cold sneer. I found a job as a cashier. It was enough to support myself, but I had zero savings to pay the massive medical bill the Millers needed. Left with no other choice, I called my brother, hoping to borrow a little bit from the money I had given back to him—just enough to cover the hospital fees. But the moment he heard I was asking for money, he didn’t even let me finish. He burst into mocking laughter. “What happened to your backbone? Done pretending?” Then he said he was in a meeting and too busy to deal with me. He told me to wait until he had free time, and hung up the phone. I lowered my head and smiled bitterly. I really had some nerve. I wasn’t a Kensington daughter anymore, yet I was still eyeing my old allowance. I should have returned everything to the Kensingtons. I took a deep breath and downloaded a payday loan app. I had to pay for their hospital bills somehow. I contacted the loan agent, and they told me to come in for an in-person interview on Monday. I sighed, agreed, hung up the phone, and waited for Monday to take out the first loan of my life. But on Sunday, Chloe came back. Hearing that her adoptive father was hospitalized, Chloe went to the Kensingtons and begged them for help, eventually paying off the medical bills. When Mrs. Miller called to tell me, I let out a massive sigh of relief. After all, payday loans were predatory and dangerous. If I fell into a debt trap, it could take years to recover. Who wouldn’t be terrified to borrow from them? But when Mrs. Miller heard me sigh in relief, she fell into a long silence. After a while, she said coldly, “A person who doesn’t even show filial piety to the people who gave her life is worse than an animal.” I froze. I wasn’t being unfilial. I was just waiting until Monday for the loan interview. But Mrs. Miller didn’t wait for my explanation. She hung up. I called back, but she didn’t answer. From that day on, it felt like my spirit had been completely drained. Just getting out of bed in the morning took a monumental amount of effort. Opening the curtains and washing my face felt like impossible, monumental tasks. I had to lie in bed for hours just to mentally prepare myself to stand up. I loved keeping the curtains drawn, lying in the dark doing absolutely nothing. Just lying there, crying pointlessly until I fell asleep. At the time, I thought I was just sad and would get over it soon. I didn’t know it was depression. By the time I found out, it was already severe. Even now, trapped as a vegetable, the severe depression still controlled me, draining me of all my will to live. Even today, when my brother actually took the time to read to me—something I wouldn’t have dared dream of when I was a kid—it didn’t make things any better. My brother held the worn fairy tale book, flipped to The Ugly Duckling, and read in a slow, detached voice: “The ugly duckling finally realized that he was a swan, unlike the ducks on the farm.” His voice was cold but pleasant. But when he read that line, the irony was deafening. If I could open my eyes right now, I would definitely see the mocking sneer on his handsome face. He murmured softly, “A swan is a swan. Even if it’s placed among ducks, it will eventually return to the swan lake.” He came alone today. I heard him on the phone earlier; it seemed my mom forced him to come. He was highly displeased and spoke with obvious irritation. He kept reading, hitting the exact spot where I had written another margin note: But who put the swan egg in the duck pile? That’s so mean! My brother fell into a long silence. After a while, he suddenly reached out and touched my face. The movement was so abrupt that if I wasn’t covered in tubes, I would have jumped out of my skin. My brother touching my face? The sun must have risen in the west. Looking back carefully, my brother wasn’t always completely cold to me. I always felt like he hated making eye contact with me. If our eyes met, he would look away. This started when we were very young. When I was a kid, I thought my brother hated me so much he couldn’t even stand the sight of me. I clung to him, followed him everywhere, and tried to please him, but nothing worked. It wasn’t until he was an adult and I was fifteen. My parents came home late, and there was a massive thunderstorm. I was terrified and crying uncontrollably. My brother sighed, came into my room to comfort me, patted my back until I fell asleep, and in my half-asleep haze, just like today… he touched my face. But after that night, he seemed to hate me even more. Just like today. After finishing The Ugly Duckling, he abruptly stood up, kicked his chair back, and hurried out of the room. If I wasn’t a vegetable, I would have thought he was fleeing in a panic. When he reached the door, his footsteps paused. I heard him take a deep breath, as if he wanted to say something, but ultimately he stayed silent. He closed the door. 4 Sometimes I really couldn’t understand why my brother hated me so much. When I was little, I followed his every footstep. When I grew up, I was gentle and obedient to him, but I could never warm his heart. He was so gentle with everyone else, but to me, he was as cold as ice. When Chloe returned, I didn’t feel threatened at first. I just thought I had gained an older sister. I saw how much my brother adored her. He bought her gifts constantly—clothes, bags, shoes, jewelry, everything. Meanwhile, growing up, all I ever got from him was a single fairy tale book. I thought he just admired her driven, career-oriented personality. I wanted my brother to like me too. So I told my dad I wanted to intern at the Kensington company, starting from the bottom in sales. I wanted to work my way up and become as brilliant as Chloe. Not for any other reason—just so my brother would look at me a little longer. I worked so hard. I arrived early, stayed late, worked overtime every day, and learned with relentless enthusiasm. The employees and managers knew I was the Kensington daughter. Seeing how hardworking, humble, and sweet I was, they often invited me out to their gatherings. I thought doing this would make my brother happy. But I never expected that when he saw me having dinner with my coworkers after a shift, he would glare at me with a dark expression and drive away. When I got home, he was talking to my dad. When my dad saw me, his expression changed, flashing with a sudden, sharp vigilance. My dad was a brilliant businessman—alert, sharp, and naturally distrustful of others. He often looked at people that way. But he had never, ever looked at me like that. That day, he scrutinized me with that look for a long time. He said, “Your brother said you’re doing really well at the company? Better than Chloe?” I was completely confused but nodded. “Um, I guess it’s going okay. Chloe is executive material, so naturally she doesn’t need to blend in with the regular staff.” I was telling the truth. Chloe was brilliant. She was destined to manage the company alongside my brother, so of course she wouldn’t be joking around and eating street food with the regular employees like I did. My dad nodded, said nothing else, and told me to go upstairs and rest. As I walked up the stairs, I could feel his eyes burning into my back. But I had had a few drinks, so I didn’t realize what my dad was actually thinking. It wasn’t until the next morning. I arrived at the office early and overheard my manager and an assistant whispering in the bathroom stalls: “Don’t let Harper touch any of the important documents.” “Why?” “Orders from above. Don’t ask questions. Now that the true heiress is back, they obviously have to guard against the imposter trying to steal the inheritance.” Sitting in the stall, my hands suddenly turned freezing cold. Cold all the way to my fingertips. I waited until the manager left before opening the stall door and stepping out. My face was covered in tears. I wrote my resignation letter that very day and left the Kensington company. When my brother found out, he sneered and called me a useless piece of trash that couldn’t be molded into anything. I admitted he was right. In this world, besides geniuses like him and Chloe, there are ordinary people, and even idiots like me. But even idiots have feelings. Even idiots get heartbroken. I packed up my desk and walked out of the building, wandering aimlessly down the street. When I was younger, my dad used to take me everywhere, calling me the apple of his eye. He told me girls didn’t need to study too hard, that living a simple, happy life was enough. He said he would protect me before I got married, and my husband would protect me after. Whenever I stayed up even thirty minutes late studying for exams, he would get so upset, forbidding me from reading and telling me my only job was to be happy. I was terrified and lost. Had the father who loved me so much vanished forever? Had all his love transferred to Chloe, leaving absolutely nothing for me? I was so naive back then. I didn’t believe it. I didn’t believe that over twenty years of love could vanish overnight. I called my dad, still whining playfully like I always did: “Dad, you still love me, right?” My dad hesitated for a moment before telling me in a flat, emotionless voice: “Harper, if you need money, I can give you money. When I’m gone, your brother will provide for you too. But don’t covet things that aren’t yours. What isn’t yours will never be yours.” I froze. I didn’t understand what he was saying. No, it wasn’t that I didn’t understand. I was just terrified to understand. The harsh autumn wind pierced through my bones, chilling me to the core. I quietly agreed and hung up the phone. I just wanted a little bit of love. I didn’t want anything else. But who would believe me?

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I am the true heiress who was intentionally switched at birth. When my biological parents finally found me… I had already joined the neighborhood senior citizens’ Zumba squad. They looked at my bright, floral-embroidered velour tracksuit. And their faces twisted in absolute disgust. 1 “You’re Chloe? These clothes…” Seeing the bedazzled floral tracksuit I was wearing, the elegantly dressed woman faltered. Ignoring the fleeting look of disgust in her eyes, I dropped the twenty-pound bag of rice and the gallon jug of cooking oil from my shoulder, then pulled a giant Stanley tumbler out of my tote bag. After taking a slow sip of my iced tea, I looked at the group standing in front of me and asked, “So, you’re my biological parents?” Richard frowned but nodded. “Yes. We are your biological parents.” “And her?” I pointed at the frail, delicate-looking girl standing behind them. The girl’s eyes instantly welled up with tears. The two young men standing beside her—one older, one younger—instinctively stepped forward to shield her. “Don’t you dare bully Serena!” The younger one couldn’t hold back and yelled what was on his mind. I stared at the girl’s face, which shared a fifty-to-sixty percent resemblance to mine. Then I looked at the Sterling family’s protective attitude toward her. Instantly, I found this whole family incredibly amusing. I leaned back against my dilapidated sofa, watching them with the detached amusement of someone watching a soap opera. Perhaps realizing his brother’s outburst was inappropriate, the older guy stepped up to explain: “We know you’ve suffered a lot all these years, but that was all that woman’s fault. Serena is completely innocent…” Before he could finish his sentence, the door to my cramped apartment was pushed wide open. A massive group of aunties and grannies—all wearing the exact same floral velour tracksuit as me—swarmed inside. They instantly surrounded my biological parents, talking over each other to defend me: “So you’re our little Chloe’s real parents!” “What took you so long? Do you have any idea what Chloe has been through all these years?” “Let me tell you, that adopted mother of hers is a monster! You know those heavy wooden baseball bats? That woman would pick one up and beat her without a second thought!” “Exactly! Starving her was an everyday thing, but in the dead of winter, she purposely shredded Chloe’s winter coat so the poor girl had to walk to school in a ripped T-shirt. And during the state scholarship exams, she locked Chloe in her room so she couldn’t go!” “I always said there was no way a real mother could be that evil. Turns out, she really wasn’t!” “You need to have the cops arrest that woman! And you better investigate that fake daughter of yours, too. She probably knew her mom switched the babies on purpose…” “Wait, who’s crying?” Auntie Martha, who was leading the pack, suddenly paused. The group of aunties looked around to find the source of the sobbing, their eyes finally landing on the girl in the pristine white dress. “Sister, I’m… I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to steal your life, I…” The girl lowered her head, crying so hard her shoulders shook. “Is this her?” Auntie Martha’s eyes widened, putting a finger to her lips in a hushed motion. I nodded. “Yep. That’s Brenda Miller’s biological daughter, Serena Sterling.” 2 “Chloe, Brenda Miller is Brenda Miller. The things she did have absolutely nothing to do with Serena.” My biological older brother, Grayson Sterling, spoke up. The rest of the Sterling family nodded, completely agreeing with him. But these were women who survived the cutthroat gossip circles of the neighborhood. With a single exchanged glance, the aunties saw right through the dynamics. Before the Sterlings could say another word, Auntie Betty—a woman who refused to even coddle her own grandsons—went on the offensive. “Oh, please, you can’t spin it like that!” “Whether the girl is innocent or not is one thing. But by standing there crying like a victim, what is Chloe supposed to do? Is she supposed to turn around and comfort her?” Auntie Betty marched over and rolled up my sleeves, revealing the jagged scars on the backs of my hands. “Look at this! Her own mother burned her with a red-hot clothing iron!” “Now look at this girl. Draped in designer brands, raised with soft skin and delicate hands.” “If you expect Chloe to apologize to her and comfort her, do you honestly think that’s fair?” Auntie Betty then turned her sights on Serena. “Listen, little girl. Maybe we can’t blame you for what your mother did, but do you have any idea what kind of hell Chloe lived through for the past sixteen years because of her? Have some decency! Stop crying and playing the victim. Don’t you realize you’re just twisting the knife in Chloe’s heart?” With that, Auntie Betty wiped a tear with her sleeve and pulled me into a tight hug. “You poor, sweet child. You always keep everything bottled up. Before, you had no one to love you, but now your real parents are here! Surely they won’t play favorites and side with an outsider over you, right? These are your real parents! If you have grievances, you speak up!” “Chloe’s parents, am I right?” The entire squad of aunties turned their piercing gazes onto the Sterling parents. Richard and Catherine Sterling smiled awkwardly. “Yes, of course. If you feel wronged, tell Mom and Dad.” Choked by Auntie Betty’s words, Serena couldn’t say a thing. All she could do was stare at the Sterlings with red, watery eyes, biting her lip. 3 Before I got into the Sterlings’ luxury SUV, Auntie Betty shoved a shopping bag into my arms, claiming it was the dance squad’s new uniform. But inside was a brand-new, trendy athletic outfit. I knew the aunties were worried I wouldn’t have decent clothes for my new school, so they all chipped in to buy this for me. I quietly thanked them, handed over the discounted eggs I had fought for at the supermarket, and securely locked my new bag of rice and cooking oil in the cabinet. Standing nearby, Grayson reminded me that there was no need to lock things up; I would never be coming back to this dump. I tilted my head, glancing at the Sterling parents and the younger brother huddled behind Grayson, whispering comforting words to Serena. I just smiled at him and didn’t say a word. Grayson looked back, then couldn’t help but say: “Chloe, Serena didn’t mean it. She really feels guilty toward you. She’s cried about it at home so many times…” “Ah, yes. Sure, sure.” I brushed him off, grabbed the new clothes the aunties gave me, slung my backpack over my shoulder, and slid straight into the car. In the car, I looked at my phone while the Sterlings looked at me. Auntie Martha sent me $500 on Venmo: [This is a little something from the aunties. Do not refuse it!] Auntie Betty messaged the group chat: [Chloe, honey, if you don’t feel comfortable over there, you just come right back home.] The other aunties chimed in with their agreement. Everyone in our neighborhood was working-class. Even though the aunties were retired, they lived on meager pensions of less than a thousand dollars a month. Women like Auntie Betty still worked at the farmer’s market just to make ends meet. Every dollar they spent on me over the years was saved by literally taking food out of their own mouths. Sending me such a huge amount of money now meant they had noticed my biological parents’ blatant favoritism and were terrified I would suffer in the Sterling house. “Chloe, honey… your outfit.” Catherine Sterling frowned at my bedazzled tracksuit, finally unable to hold her tongue. “From now on, you are a daughter of the Sterling family. Your attire and manners need to be appropriate.” “And at your age, you should be making friends with people your own age. Broaden your horizons, expand your social circles, instead of hanging around those… elderly women every day.” “In this regard, you can learn a lot from Serena. It’ll also help the two of you bond as sisters.” Catherine spoke with utmost sincerity, and Serena, of course, played along perfectly. She reached out to grab my hand, her attitude so artificially affectionate it gave me goosebumps. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ll make sure to teach my sister everything.” “Sister, when we get home, I’ll pick out a few nice outfits for you from my closet. As for what you’re wearing, let’s just have the housekeeper throw it away.” “Yeah,” Mason, sitting next to Serena, chimed in. “I don’t even know what that garbage is on your back. It’s hideous. If you dress like that from now on, don’t tell anyone you’re a Sterling. It’s humiliating.” I paused, stopped typing a reply to my beloved aunties, and looked at the group with a bright smile. “But do you know why I’m always wearing these grandma tracksuits?” 4 “Because her mother—Brenda Miller—shredded all my clothes so I couldn’t go to school. And that wasn’t all. When the neighbors couldn’t stand watching me freeze and gave me their old hand-me-downs, she burned and cut those up, too.” “Later, those aunties you look down on came up with a plan. They recruited me into their dance crew as a helper. They told Brenda these tracksuits were the team’s official property. If she destroyed them, she’d have to pay the crew back in cash. Only then was I able to wear these tracksuits and leave the house like a normal person.” “Oh, right. Do you know why your mother tried to stop me from going to school?” I stared dead into Serena’s eyes. “It’s because during the middle school math decathlon, she realized you and I were testing at the same regional center. She suddenly realized that if I kept succeeding in school, the truth might be exposed.” “And speaking of… Auntie Martha and the others were too polite to say it earlier. Do you know what Brenda Miller did on the day of my final high school scholarship exams?” “She locked me in a room and let a creepy old drifter inside. She said she sold me to him for three hundred bucks, telling him he could take my virginity…” “Stop it!” Catherine’s face went deathly pale. She clutched her chest, looking as if she couldn’t bear to hear another word. The rest of the Sterlings looked sick to their stomachs, completely at a loss for words. “Heh.” I chuckled softly, as if oblivious to their expressions. “So you see, you really should be thanking my aunties. If they hadn’t smashed the door down, dragged me out of there, and personally driven me to the testing center, I would either be dead right now, or chained in a drifter’s basement, probably already a mother of three.” The entire car went dead silent. I curled my lips into a smile, leaned back against the leather seat, and closed my eyes to rest. Perhaps my words were a little too hardcore. As soon as we arrived at the Sterling estate, my biological parents used “urgent work” as an excuse and fled the scene. Unable to withstand my gaze, Serena and Mason quickly scurried away, too. Leaving only my eldest brother, Grayson, to take me to my prepared room—a converted guest bedroom on the first floor. I glanced up the stairs where Serena and Mason had vanished, and simply smiled at Grayson. Grayson instantly looked embarrassed. He quickly explained, “This is just temporary. I’ll have the empty suite on the second floor renovated for you, and then you can move upstairs.” Seeing that I just kept smiling without a word, his expression darkened. “Chloe, we know you suffered a lot, but all of that is in the past. Mom, Dad, and I will make it up to you. Why must you aggressively cling to the past and embarrass everyone like this?” “Embarrass?” I asked as I slowly paced around the room. “Did you not see Mom and Dad’s faces just now?” he said, his tone full of reprimand. “And not just them, but Serena. How do you expect her to live in this house after hearing the horrifying things you said?” I spotted a heavy, cylindrical wooden sculpture on the desk. My eyes lit up. I grabbed it and swung it hard right into Grayson’s back. Hit out of nowhere, Grayson stumbled forward, clutching his back and glaring at me in fury. “Are you insane?!” I weighed the wooden baton in my hand and smiled. “Does it hurt?” “What do you think?!” Grayson looked at me like I was a psychopath. “Chloe Miller, apologize right now!” “But I hit you seconds ago, so it’s already in the past. Besides, this strike is barely a tickle compared to what I’ve endured. Why must you aggressively cling to the past and embarrass me, brother?” I repeated his exact tone and words back to him. Grayson choked on his rage. I just waved my hand at him and shut the door in his face. “Bye, brother.”

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The day before my final senior exams, a girl showed up at my house claiming she was my parents’ biological daughter. I knew she had deliberately chosen the day before the exams to show up, hoping the shock would make me fail. Because she was reincarnated, and I had transmigrated into this book. 1 The day before my final exams, my parents’ biological daughter knocked on our door. She said we had been switched at birth in the hospital and asked for a DNA test. My mom immediately hugged her and burst into tears. “Sweetheart, we don’t need a DNA test. A mother just knows. You are definitely my daughter.” The reason was simple: this “true daughter” looked exactly like my mom did in her youth. The true daughter seemed a little stunned. She looked at me and said, “Maybe we should still do it. Just in case I made a mistake.” “It’s not a mistake,” my mom wept. “You are my daughter.” But at the true daughter’s strong insistence, they still had someone come over to collect samples for a rapid DNA test. After the technician collected their three swabs and was about to leave, the true daughter spoke up at the perfect moment. “Harper, you should take one too.” The atmosphere instantly grew awkward. I just smiled and said, “No need. You guys go ahead.” She was persistent. “You really should. Just in case I’m the one who made a mistake, it would give everyone peace of mind.” My dad said flatly, “It’s fine. Harper already did a DNA test with us.” I flashed the true daughter a sweet smile. This reincarnated true daughter had no idea that she wasn’t the only one who knew the plot. I knew it too. Because I was a transmigrator, and I actually knew more of the story than she did. I knew long ago that she would show up at the Sterling family’s doorstep the day before the finals. She believed her past life was miserable because the original owner of my body had stolen her rightful place. So, she wanted revenge. She deliberately chose to drop this bomb the day before the exams to catch Harper off guard and ruin her academic future. In the original novel, the original Harper was the state’s Valedictorian. But after the true daughter’s sudden appearance, Harper’s mental state collapsed, and she bombed the exams. So, before the true daughter even knocked on our door, I had already found an excuse to tell my parents that I suspected I wasn’t their biological child. At my request, we did a DNA test. The results were obvious: I was not a Sterling. I immediately offered to move out, but my parents refused. After all, they had raised me for eighteen years. Even without blood ties, the love was still there. To ease the true daughter’s awkwardness, my mom proactively brought up changing her name. And so, even before her DNA results were officially printed, Olivia Hayes became Olivia Sterling. 2 After returning to the living room, Olivia said, “Mr. and Mrs. Sterling, until the DNA results are officially out, I should probably go back to the Hayes family.” My adoptive mother couldn’t bear to let her go. She gently started asking about the Hayes family’s situation. When Olivia arrived today, she was wearing a faded, washed-out t-shirt. I knew my adoptive mother wasn’t saying it out loud, but she already assumed Olivia had a terrible life with the Hayes family and wanted her to stay immediately. Olivia looked hesitant. “Dad is a doctor, and Mom is a teacher. Even though they don’t make much money, squeezing into our tiny house together is still really happy.” I mentally highlighted the key words in Olivia’s speech: don’t make much money and tiny house. My adoptive mother’s face changed instantly. Her eyes filled with heartache. “Olivia, please don’t go back. Your final exams are tomorrow. Tossing and turning with all this traveling… I’m worried it will affect your performance.” My adoptive father thought for a moment before finally speaking up. “Give me the Hayes family’s contact info. I’ll communicate with them.” He made the call from his study, so none of us knew exactly what he said. But not long after, my biological parents appeared at the entrance of the Sterling mansion. The two sets of parents stayed in the living room to talk, while Olivia and I were sent back to our rooms. Because Olivia arrived so suddenly, my adoptive mother could only put her in the guest room for now. Once back in my room, I quickly organized my luggage and the supplies I needed for tomorrow’s exams. There really wasn’t much to pack. Since the day I realized I had transmigrated into a book, I had been preparing for this. I knew Olivia would show up eventually, and my time at the Sterlings was limited. It was better to be packed and ready than to be kicked out. I don’t know what they discussed downstairs, but my biological parents actually agreed to let me stay at the Sterlings’ house until my exams were over, after which we would do our own DNA test. When they were leaving, I walked them out. My biological mom took my hand, her voice incredibly gentle. “Can I call you Harper?” I nodded. “Of course.” She smiled warmly. “Harper, right now, nothing is more important than your exams. Whether we cry or laugh about this, let’s save it all for after you’re done testing, okay?” She spoke so softly, offering me endless comfort. I knew she was terrified that this sudden upheaval would ruin my state of mind. But how could it? In my past life, just like the original Harper, I was also my state’s Valedictorian. Olivia, on the other hand? In the original novel, after she reincarnated, she was so obsessed with scheming against Harper that she barely touched her textbooks. She ended up failing to even get into a community college. She still didn’t realize that in the original novel, both she and Harper were nothing more than cannon fodder meant to make the female lead look good. 3 Exam day arrived. Olivia and I were assigned to different testing centers. In the original book, Olivia played the insecure victim card, manipulating Mr. and Mrs. Sterling into driving her to the exam center together. Meanwhile, the original Harper—reeling from the double blow of finding out she wasn’t their real daughter and being suddenly neglected by the parents who raised her—performed disastrously on her first subject. Taking these exams is like a domino effect; if you mess up the start, your mental state shatters, ruining everything that follows. To top it off, later in the week, Olivia secretly tampered with Harper’s food, giving her severe food poisoning and forcing her to take the rest of her exams while violently ill. As a result, the Harper who was supposed to be Valedictorian ended up barely qualifying for a low-tier community college. Meanwhile, the original female lead—who had always been forever second place—effortlessly claimed the Valedictorian title. And Olivia? Even worse. Before her reincarnation, she had been out of school for years. She had forgotten everything and lacked the discipline to study. She couldn’t even get into a community college, so Mr. Sterling eventually paid an exorbitant fee to ship her off to an overseas diploma mill. Knowing Olivia was going to pull a stunt, I spoke up first at breakfast. I proactively suggested my adoptive parents drive her to the testing center. “I already scoped out my route yesterday. I know exactly how to get there, I can just take an Uber.” Oh, you want to play the innocent white lotus? Two can play that game. Hearing this, my adoptive mother looked instantly heartbroken for me. Olivia was caught completely off guard. She just sat there, mouth slightly open, desperately trying to maintain her fake, sweet smile. It was hilarious. My adoptive father frowned. “Harper, what nonsense are you talking about? Your mother will drive Olivia, and I will drive you.” In the original book, the Sterlings were actually always very good to Harper. Even after she moved back to the Hayes family, they frequently visited her. I flashed a harmless smile. “Okay!” The smile on Olivia’s face slowly vanished. 4 After the exams finished, the official DNA results came back. Unsurprisingly, Olivia was the Sterlings’ true daughter. The moment she saw the paperwork, Olivia shot me a provocative glare before throwing herself into Mrs. Sterling’s arms, sobbing loudly. Mr. Sterling stood to the side, silently lighting a cigarette. I walked up to him. “Dad, can we talk?” He instinctively put out the cigarette. He glanced at Mrs. Sterling and Olivia, who were crying their eyes out, and nodded. “Let’s go to the study.” I followed him in. The soundproofing in the Sterling house was top-tier. The moment the study door clicked shut, the crying vanished completely. I got straight to the point. “Dad, now that the results are out, I’m planning to move back to the Hayes house today.” He froze. “Harper, have you thought this through? Our family isn’t short on money. We can easily afford to raise both of our daughters.” In the original book, when Harper moved out, he tried to make her stay just like this. They say the bond of raising a child is stronger than blood. Eighteen years of living together isn’t something a piece of paper can just sever. I smiled gently. “Dad, from the moment I found out I wasn’t your biological daughter, I already made my decision.” “If I stay, Olivia will definitely feel uncomfortable. There will inevitably be friction between us. No matter who you and Mom side with, the other will feel wronged.” In this regard, I actually sympathized with Olivia. Having eighteen years of wealth and privilege taken from you? It’s completely normal for her to be resentful. But in this situation, both she and Harper were innocent victims of a hospital error. Harper’s biological parents never mistreated Olivia. Olivia’s miserable past life was entirely her own doing. She shouldn’t have pinned all that hatred on Harper. I continued, “Besides, my biological parents only have one daughter. If I stay here, what about them?” This was the responsibility the original Harper owed them. Since I had taken over her body, I had to fulfill that duty. Mr. Sterling fell silent for a long time before sighing. “Harper, you’ve grown up. You’re thinking about things much more thoroughly than before.” I replied softly, “People have to grow up eventually.” Looking guilty, he pulled a property deed out of his desk drawer. “I was originally going to give this to you as a gift when you started college. Take it with you to the Hayes house.” I shook my head and didn’t take it. “Dad, I’ll just pack the clothes you bought me and my personal items. I don’t need anything else.” In the original book, Olivia threw a massive fit at the Hayes house specifically because of this property. “Listen to me.” He forcefully pressed the deed into my hands. “I raised you for eighteen years. You are my daughter. Even if you go to the Hayes family, that will never change.” But in the end, I still didn’t accept it. I knew that if I took this multi-million dollar property, I wouldn’t be able to righteously put Olivia in her place the next time she tried to start drama. I understood the principle of not biting the hand that feeds you.

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To ruin my reputation, the fake heiress’s suitors deliberately approached me. The aloof valedictorian stood up for me when I was being bullied. The rebellious billionaire heir pretended to be broke, begging me to take him in on a rainy night. But on the night my heart finally fluttered and I went to confess my feelings, what greeted me was a gang of thugs ready to humiliate me. Asher trampled the scarf I had knit for him into the mud, saying in absolute disgust: “You deadbeat trash, you actually thought you could steal Chloe’s life?” Ethan stepped out of the car, urging coldly: “Let’s go. Chloe is flying back to the country today.” To save myself, I leaped from the top of the building to a tragic death. When I woke up again, I had miraculously returned to the snowy night Asher showed up at my apartment door pretending to be broke. “Riley, you absolute trash, you actually think you can compete with me for the study-abroad spot?” “Writing a complaint letter? I think you’re a bit too naive, bitch!” As soon as the words fell, an entire bucket of freezing, filthy water was splashed over me. Through my soaking wet bangs, the school’s golden girl, Chloe Sinclair, was glaring at me viciously. Immediately after, a barrage of slaps rained down on me. It wasn’t until I was weakly slumped on the dirty bathroom floor like a dog that Chloe smiled in satisfaction and told her lackeys to stop. Before leaving, she flashed her sweet, signature dimples and patted my cheek. “Know your place. Don’t try to fight me.” It made sense. She was the jewel of the wealthy Sinclair family; whatever she wanted, she got. And I was just a destitute orphan who was only able to attend this prep school because of the Sinclair family’s charity foundation. But in my previous life, right before I died, I learned the incredibly absurd truth about my origins. I was the Sinclair family’s biological daughter. And Chloe Sinclair was nothing but a fake heiress who had stolen my nest. I wrung out my soaking wet clothes and stood up. Just as I walked out of the restroom, I crashed headfirst into a firm chest. “Are you alright?” I looked up and recognized the person. It was Ethan Vance. As the wealthy, aloof top student, countless girls in school slipped love letters into his locker. But every single time, with a cold expression, he would dump the gifts and letters straight into the trash. In my past life, however, for the sake of his beloved Chloe, Ethan and the billionaire heir, Asher Sterling, launched a “capture” strategy against me. Whenever I was bullied and humiliated, Ethan would stand in front of me and be my knight in shining armor. Meanwhile, Asher pretended to be homeless just to get close to me, pitifully calling me “sister” and begging me to take him in. Eventually, after spending every day together, I fell for Asher. On his twentieth birthday, I carried a large cake I had saved up for months to buy, planning to give him a surprise. Instead, he drugged me and shipped me off to an abandoned warehouse in the suburbs. When I woke up, I watched Asher take off the scarf I had painstakingly knit for him, throwing it into the mud and grinding it under his expensive shoes. “You actually fell in love with me? You disgusting trash, just looking at your face makes me sick.” “Why are you doing this to me?” Through blurry tears, I forced the words out of my dry, hoarse throat. “Heh, blame the fact that your existence threatens to steal everything from Chloe.” He shot me a look of pity, charitably granting me the truth. Ethan stepped out of his Maybach and said coldly, “Once the photos are leaked, the Vance family won’t accept a daughter whose reputation is entirely ruined.” The thugs eagerly reached their hands toward my chest. In ultimate despair, I cried and begged them at the top of my lungs: “I won’t affect Chloe! I’ll stay far away! My little sister is still in the hospital, I need to make money to save her…” Asher’s footsteps paused for a fraction of a second. Ethan urged, “It’s just taking some photos, they won’t go too far. Chloe is waiting for us at the airport.” In the end, to save myself from the assault, I threw myself off the roof of the building. My mangled body smashed heavily onto Ethan’s luxury car. The agonizing pain of countless glass shards piercing my body still made me shiver uncontrollably. “Let me take you to the nurse’s office first.” Ethan’s gentle, deep voice pulled me out of my memories. He leaned in close, taking off his jacket and draping it over my shivering shoulders. At this close distance, I could clearly see the concern and heartache in his eyes. Ethan’s acting was truly spectacular. In my past life, forced by circumstance, I was overly mature and seemingly independent, but deep down, I was insecure, sensitive, and starved for affection. During the most helpless moments of my long-term bullying, Ethan extended a helping hand. Like a knight, he always appeared when I was at my most wretched. When my sister’s heart condition relapsed and she was rushed into emergency surgery, Ethan stepped in and got the chief of surgery to operate on her. To wait with me at the hospital, he even gave up a precious interview for an Ivy League early-admissions program. Everyone said the aloof genius was madly in love with me. But it wasn’t until right before I died that I realized every disaster I suffered had been orchestrated by him. Just to ensure Chloe secured the study-abroad spot. He used money and power to bribe the school administration, making sure my application “got lost” so I would lose my chance. The familiar scent of cold pine filled my nose. I clenched the hands hidden in my pockets so hard my nails dug into my flesh, forcing myself to smile through the phantom pain. “Thank you for the trouble, Ethan.” Ethan’s gaze faltered for a second. In my past life, due to my deep-seated inferiority complex, I always kept my head down, never daring to meet his eyes. But this time, I clearly saw the reflection of the girl in his dark pupils. Eyes curved in a soft smile, her gaze pure and clean. The absolute picture of a naive, easily manipulated little bunny. With Ethan supporting me, I limped into the nurse’s office. When the doctor rolled up my pant leg, he drew in a sharp breath. “Miss, if you are experiencing bullying, you need to report it to the teachers immediately.” I had tried fighting back before. But every single time, it only resulted in the school board interrogating and warning me. “Chloe is Mr. Sinclair’s daughter, why would she ever do something like this?” Nobody believed me. “Riley, don’t be afraid. Who is bullying you?” Ethan’s voice rang out, laced with an encouraging, heroic tone. In a blind spot where no one could see, I curled my lips into a cold sneer. If I told him it was his pure, kind-hearted childhood sweetheart who burned me with a curling iron… Would he still act this incredibly righteous? Fairness was the biggest joke in the world. I deliberately waited until my eyes were entirely red, tears brimming but refusing to fall, before looking up and whispering timidly. “My foster father beat me. He lost money gambling and got into debt. He said paying for my tuition is a waste of cash. When he came back last time, he tried to steal my savings. I fought him off with everything I had, because that’s my sister’s life-saving medical fund.” “That’s illegal, Riley. I can help…” Even though he was deliberately approaching me, it still triggered Ethan’s savior complex and desire to perform. As the tears finally fell, Ethan reached out and gently wiped them away. Perhaps the tears were too hot, because his hand flinched slightly. “Thank you for today. It’s in the past now. I believe I can work hard and give my sister a better life,” I said, pretending to be optimistic. A life so bleak, impoverished, and agonizing was clearly something this golden boy had never heard of. Ethan’s expression stiffened, and his gaze darted away from mine. By this point in my past life, he already knew the truth that I was the biological Sinclair daughter. Ethan, your heart ached at the thought of Chloe suffering if her identity was exposed. So, what do you think of me now—the girl whose entire life was stolen? I wiped my tears, rolled down my pant leg, and limped out of the room. It was a cloudy late afternoon, and a cold drizzle began to fall. Anxious footsteps chased after me from behind. “I’ll drive you home. Wait right here for me.” With that, he turned to head toward the student parking garage. I grabbed the hem of his shirt, pulled my only umbrella out of my bag, and handed it to him. “Don’t catch a cold.” Ethan froze for a second, took it, and jogged into the rain. Watching his disappearing back, I pulled out my phone and immediately ordered an Uber. In my past life, he abandoned me the second he received a phone call from Chloe. I ended up soaking in the freezing rain for two hours and ran a high fever for days. This time, I wasn’t stupid enough to wait for him. As my cab drove out of the school gates, I spotted Ethan’s bright red sports car in the distance. Rumor had it that he personally disliked such flashy colors. But Chloe loved them. As we passed by, he was leaning over the center console, carefully buckling Chloe’s seatbelt. I arrived at the lounge just in time for my shift. After changing into my uniform dress, my phone rang. On the other end, Ethan’s voice had lost its usual calm composure. “The rain is pouring. Where did you go?” His tone was level, but there was an obvious undercurrent of anger. It seemed Ethan had actually gone back to look for me. I checked the time. Compared to the freezing rain I endured in my past life, this was nothing. “I’m so sorry, Ethan. I didn’t mean to. I just… I fainted, and a passerby brought me to the clinic.” As I spoke, my voice grew softer, interrupted by light, delicate coughs. I sounded incredibly guilty and full of self-blame. “You caught a cold? Which clinic are you at?” His voice was suddenly tainted with genuine tension. I had successfully plucked his heartstrings. Ethan wanted to say more, but I quickly cut him off. “I just finished my IV drip, my fever broke. It’s nothing serious, I’m heading home now.” After hanging up, I put on my performance outfit and sat down at the piano. They were short-staffed tonight, so after my set, the boss asked me to help deliver drinks. Walking down the corridor, I spotted a familiar figure at the end of the hall. Asher Sterling was smoking, exhaling clouds of gray mist. As we brushed past each other, I kept my head down, blending into the crowd, and watched the ash drop from his fingers. Asher spoke into his phone with a tone of absolute certainty: “For a completely inexperienced country mouse like Riley, playing the pitiful card is the best way to trigger her sympathy.” “Ethan, you might be a genius at school, but when it comes to playing girls, leave it to me.” Is that so? I couldn’t wait to see who was playing who this time. Ethan must have said something, because the call quickly ended. In my past life, it was at the entrance of this very club where I found him blackout drunk. In the sub-zero snowy weather, terrified he would freeze to death, I temporarily brought him back to my apartment. But the next morning when he sobered up, with red eyes, he claimed his family went bankrupt and he was homeless. My meager income was barely enough to keep me and my sister alive. While I was hesitating, he cautiously tried to please me. “Sister, I’ll do the chores and cook for you while you’re at work. Please don’t kick me out, okay?” I had ruffled his hair and agreed. To feed him, I worked three jobs a day. Once, when he ended up in the hospital from street racing, I sold the only bracelet my mother left me just to pay his medical bills. It wasn’t until right before I died that I realized my genuine, heartfelt sacrifices were nothing but cheap, pathetic desperation in Asher’s eyes. When my shift ended, I purposefully delayed clocking out for an hour, sipping a glass of warm mulled wine in the breakroom. Feeling warm inside, I watched the clock hit exactly midnight, then stepped out the door. Just like my past life, Asher was wearing a luxurious, custom-tailored suit, slumped “drunkenly” on the snow-covered steps. The difference was, this time, shivering in the biting winter wind for an extra hour, Asher was genuinely freezing. As I walked past him, a glimmer of calculation and anticipation lit up in his eyes. But I pretended not to see him, pulled my puffer jacket tighter around myself, and walked straight toward the street. Across the road, the crosswalk light turned green. I counted down in my head. Two… One. Asher finally couldn’t hold back anymore and called out to me. “Sister.” A hand, entirely red from the freezing cold, grabbed the hem of my coat. When I turned around, the boy blinked his dark eyes, looking up at me pitifully. He had incredibly beautiful eyes, beautiful enough to bewitch anyone. Too bad I had already seen the monster hiding behind them. “Sister, I don’t have anywhere to go.” I pulled out my phone and smiled calmly. “Oh?” “Do you need me to call the police for you, little boy?” Asher clearly hadn’t anticipated this reaction. He quickly lowered his head, hiding a flash of irritation. In that moment, the dim yellow light from the streetlamp cast a glow over his dark hair. He looked soft, obedient. He spoke with a muffled, begging tone. “No, please. I just escaped. If they send me back, my dad will beat me to death.” That part was actually true. In my past life, after living with Asher, I vaguely learned about his horrific childhood—a mother who went insane and committed suicide, an alcoholic, abusive father. And the pampered little princess, Chloe Sinclair, was the only ray of light in Asher’s dark, messed-up life. He lived in hell, yet he swore to protect her happiness, ready to eradicate any trouble or threat in her path. And I was that trouble. “Sister, please take me home? I’ll be so good.” After a long silence, meeting Asher’s dark eyes, I reached out and patted the crown of his head, then pressed down hard on the bleeding cut on his forehead. I pressed so hard that sweat broke out on Asher’s face from the pain. But what was this tiny bit of pain compared to what I had suffered? Fine. This time, I was going to make Asher willingly drop to his knees for me. And when I had enough fun, I would kick him aside like trash. “Alright.” I finally relented. “You’re injured, you need medicine. Also, if you stay at my place, you have to pay rent and utilities,” I added. “Sister, I’ll figure out a way to pay you back.” Asher smiled obediently, though the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He was probably mocking my impoverished, penny-pinching mindset in his head. Of course I knew the young master didn’t care about a few bucks. For someone born into top-tier wealth like Asher, he was always surrounded by people. Whether it was genuine love or fake flattery, he had an endless supply of it. So, against a rabid dog like him, blind, unconditional sacrifice was completely useless. The thought of returning every single ounce of pain he inflicted on me… It made my blood boil with sheer excitement. I leaned in close, exhaling hot breath against his ear. “How are you going to pay me back?” Our noses almost touched, so close that I could see a flash of genuine panic in the boy’s eyes. The atmosphere instantly turned ambiguous. A flush of red quickly crawled up his ears and spread down his neck. Finally, as if making a massive sacrifice, he looked at me. “Sister, I…” In my past life, after moving in with me, Asher had complained to his rich friends: “An old hag. I’ve seriously had enough of her.” “She makes me sick.” The image of the man smoking, his face twisted in absolute disgust and mockery, was still vivid in my mind. I smiled brightly and cut him off: “You can do the chores, then.” Since he was playing broke, he obviously couldn’t drive his fleet of supercars. In my past life, not wanting him to suffer in the cold, I spent a small fortune on a cab to bring him home in the snow. This time, I chose to take the subway. Walking into the chaotic subway station, a crack finally appeared in the young master’s usually composed facade. I completely ignored him and walked briskly ahead. Asher had absolutely zero experience with public transportation. When I looked back, he was caught in a massive crowd of commuters, his brows furrowed tightly in disgust. When he looked utterly miserable, I slowly walked over and held out my hand. “Hold onto me. Don’t get lost.” Asher’s reflex was to snap in anger, but he forcefully swallowed it down, slipping back into his obedient puppy persona as he grabbed my hand tight. “Don’t leave me behind, Sister.” See? What Asher needed was never groveling. On the contrary, the more casual and dismissive you were, the more it triggered his competitive drive and desire to conquer. Being intrigued is the most important foundation for turning a stranger into someone intimate. Since he wanted to play a game with me, I was going to be the one holding all the cards. …

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I targeted the wrong man. By the time I discovered the truth, I was already standing at the altar, about to marry Gavin Sterling. Inside the bridal suite, a girl was wearing my custom wedding dress, preening in front of the mirror. “Gavin,” she purred, her voice dripping with sweet poison. “Do I look beautiful in her dress?” Gavin’s voice was low, raspy. “Hideous.” “If it’s so hideous, why do you look at me like—ah—” Her words were instantly shattered into breathless gasps. Today was supposed to be my wedding day. But the moment his toxic childhood friend, Scarlett Rose, heard the news, she flew back across the Atlantic overnight. Now, she was curled into Gavin’s arms, explicitly planning to ruin my wedding. A suffocating chill washed over my entire body. If this wedding fell through, my mission would be marked as an absolute failure. And the penalty for failure was immediate system elimination. Inside the room, Scarlett was panting, her voice laced with triumphant arrogance. “See? You still love me.” Gavin’s face was dark, but his hands didn’t stop. “Don’t flatter yourself.” Scarlett began to cry, her tears sounding practiced and delicate. “Gavin, please. Don’t marry that pathetic clinger. Run away with me. Leave her at the altar.” “Beg me.” “I am begging you. Please.” Gavin leaned down and covered her mouth with his. The pain in my chest was so sharp I could barely draw breath. I raised my hand, fully prepared to push the door open and unleash hell. But right then, the System—which had been radio silent for months—suddenly screamed inside my brain. 【AAAAAHHHHHHHH!】 I flinched so hard I nearly dropped my bouquet. The System’s voice was pure, unadulterated panic. 【Host! Wipe your tears right now! You spent the last six months simping for the wrong guy!!!! The mission deadline is expiring in an hour, oh my god, oh my god…】 It felt like a bolt of lightning struck my spine. “The… the wrong guy?!” The System wept inside my head. 【We glitched! Your actual romantic target isn’t Gavin Sterling—it’s his best friend, Adrian Belmont… You have exactly sixty minutes left before permanent deletion.】 My legs turned to jelly. Black spots danced across my vision. I nearly fainted right there on the pristine marble floor. For the past half-year, I had played the role of Gavin’s devoted, submissive doormat perfectly. I was at his beck and call, enduring his cold shoulder, swallowing my pride. All of it, just to get him to lead me down the aisle and complete the mission. And now you’re telling me I barked up the wrong tree? I had one hour. Where on earth was I supposed to find Adrian Belmont and convince him to marry me? I might as well just lie down and wait for death. “What do I do?” I asked, my soul completely leaving my body. The System’s voice was weak, running on fumes. 【Physical intimacy extends the mission countdown! The higher the level of intimacy, the more time we buy. My official recommendation: skip the talking and go straight for a forced kiss!】 The survival instinct is a powerful thing. I instantly surged back to life, lifting the heavy layers of my satin gown with pure survival fury. “Where is he?!” 【The ceremony entrance! Right now!】 A few minutes later, I was standing at the end of the aisle. Gavin stood across from me, looking completely detached. My eyes were brimming with tears, threatening to spill over. But I wasn’t crying for him. I was crying because if I couldn’t get my lips on Adrian Belmont within the next few minutes, I was a dead woman. Gavin looked down at me, his expression flat and unbothered. “Elena,” he murmured, his voice lacking any real warmth. “You’re finally marrying me. Aren’t you excited?” He was baiting me. He was clearly anticipating the look on my face when he publicly jilted me for Scarlett in front of hundreds of high-society guests. But I didn’t have the time or the energy to give a damn about his ego. The System’s countdown was echoing frantically in my skull. 【Host! Adrian Belmont has just entered the building! Counting down from ten, nine, eight…】 I slowly gathered the train of my wedding dress, crouching slightly into a runner’s stance. The minister beamed, his voice booming through the microphone. “Do you, Gavin Sterling, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to cherish and to hold, for as long as you both shall live?” Down in the front row, Scarlett sat with a flushed, ecstatic face, waiting for the climax. Gavin lifted his microphone, the corner of his lips curling into a cruel, mocking smirk. “I do no—” 【HOST, CHARGE!!!!!!!!!!】 Before the word could leave his mouth, under the collective gaze of the entire venue, my expression turned feral. I bolted. I launched myself forward like a literal missile, tearing down the aisle with an aggressive velocity that left a trail of white tulle in my wake. The guests’ jaws dropped in unison. The heavy double doors of the chapel slammed open. I locked eyes with a tall, imposing man who had just stepped inside, grabbed him by the lapels of his midnight-black tuxedo, and dragged him fiercely out into the blinding sunlight. Behind us, Gavin and the minister stood frozen at the altar, looking utterly stupid. A long, agonizing silence descended upon the chapel. Finally, the minister’s voice cracked through the speakers, completely breaking protocol as he turned to look at the groom. “Did the… did the bride just leave you at the altar? Like, she ran away from you?” 2 Inside the dim, cramped janitor’s closet, Adrian Belmont was leaning lazily against the wall. His crisp white shirt was completely disheveled. He radiated the dark, messy beauty of a man who had just been thoroughly ravaged. “Done kissing me?” Adrian’s tone was smooth, dripping with an indifferent, dangerous amusement. It was as if he didn’t care in the slightest that a crazed bride had just violently stolen his virtue in a broom closet. The System exhaled a massive sigh of relief. 【Whew! The forced kiss worked! Congratulations, Host, you have successfully bought us an extra thirty minutes of survival time.】 【Honestly, it would be way faster if you just slept with him. One night with a guy like him could buy us days.】 A fierce, passionate kiss only bought me thirty minutes? As expected of Adrian Belmont. The most notoriously difficult man to deal with in the entire city. As the youngest billionaire heir to the Belmont empire, Adrian was known for being unpredictable, ruthless, and terrifyingly cold. People usually cleared the room the moment he walked in. Who would ever dare to seduce a man like him? The System’s digital interface suddenly warped, aggressively flashing a banned adult romance novel across my mental screen titled The Cruel Billionaire’s Captive Submissive. 【Host, trust me! Copy the plot directly. You will break him in no time!】 A few minutes later, I found myself wearing a crimson, thigh-slit silk slip dress—courtesy of a quick emergency change—sitting directly on Adrian’s lap, my face burning with embarrassment. My pale skin formed a stark, scandalous contrast against the dark fabric of his tailored suit trousers. The System whispered in my head, 【Wow, this book plays dirty. You’ve had a rough day, Host. Keep it up.】 My day wasn’t just rough. It was cursed. I pinched my own thigh to force out a wave of tears, looking up at him with wide, trembling eyes. “Adrian… if I told you that I’ve actually loved you all along, and that I only used your best friend to get closer to you, would you believe me?” The bright afternoon sun filtered through the small closet window, casting a warm glow over my bare shoulders. Adrian narrowed his eyes, the dark depths of his pupils clouding with a dangerous intensity. “You little sociopath,” he murmured, his deep, velvety voice making my knees go weak. “Are you addicted to playing games?” Suddenly, Gavin’s furious, booming voice echoed from the courtyard outside the window. “Search every inch of this property! When you find Elena Lockhart, I am going to personally break her legs!” Adrian tilted his head down, his gaze raking over the shredded remains of my wedding dress discarded on the floor. A mocking, dark smirk played on his lips. “Sit closer, sweetheart.” The System suddenly shrieked: 【Host! If Gavin catches you cheating on him right now, your survival time will be severely penalized and deducted!!!!】 Panic seized me. I immediately tried to scramble off his lap to lock the door. But Adrian’s large hand suddenly clamped around my waist, violently pulling me back against his chest. The crisp, intoxicating scent of winter mint instantly flooded my senses. He smelled so clean. So entirely untouchable. Adrian’s fingers slid slowly down the curve of my waist, giving me a sharp, firm squeeze. I couldn’t help it—a soft, breathless gasp escaped my lips. In the exact same second, the closet door was violently rattled, and the window blinds were kicked open from the outside. The bright sunlight poured in. A rolling rack of heavy coats partially obscured Adrian’s upper body. But Gavin, peering through the glass, saw me perfectly. He saw me flushed, breathless, and straddling a pair of long legs clad in an expensive black suit, my face twisted in utter panic. The System wailed, 【Survival time is dropping rapidly! Counting down from ten, nine…】 【Oh my god, Host, stop kissing him! Seduce him! Strip him! It’s faster!】 In a frantic bid to survive, my hands flew to Adrian’s waist, desperately trying to unbuckle his leather belt. The next second, Gavin’s primal roar rattled the entire courtyard. “Elena Lockhart, take your hands off him right now!” “If you and that bastard walk out of this estate with your limbs intact today, I’ll change my damn name!” Adrian remained entirely unbothered. He reached up, casually stroking the back of my hair. “Put your hands behind your back,” he whispered. “What?” Outside, a massive crowd of wedding guests and relatives was rapidly gathering to witness the scandal. Adrian calmly unknotted his silk tie, wrapping it firmly around my wrists until they were bound together. He flashed me a terrifyingly handsome, gentle smile. “Didn’t you say you wanted to sleep with me?” “Where’s all that energy gone? How are you going to ravage me in front of an audience if you’re unpinned?” Wait a minute… The crowd outside… did he call them over?! My hard-earned survival time was ticking down at an alarming rate. Bound and helpless, tears of sheer frustration finally leaked from my eyes. “Untie me!” I sobbed. “I can’t save myself if you keep playing around!” The amused, mocking look on Adrian’s face vanished instantly. He lifted an eyebrow, his eyes darkening to a frosty chill. “You really want this?” “Do I look like I’m joking?!” Under the absolute terror of impending death, my body went entirely limp, and I collapsed sobbing into Adrian’s chest. This was likely the first time in Adrian Belmont’s life that a woman had wept inconsolably simply because she couldn’t strip him fast enough. The shouting outside grew louder as the crowd breached the hallway. Suddenly, a heavy black suit jacket was thrown over my head, completely enveloping my body from view right before the lock clicked. The lethal countdown abruptly halted. Adrian let out a dark, raspy chuckle beneath the fabric. “Crying like you’ve been diagnosed with a terminal illness. You’re pathetic, Elena.” 3 Right before Gavin could smash the door open, Adrian scooped me up into his arms. He carried me through a back exit, navigating a labyrinth of wardrobe racks, and threw me straight into the back seat of his armored Maybach. Inside the car, I was still reeling from the adrenaline, weeping and trembling into the leather seats. Adrian sat beside me, his expression dark and unreadable. “What are you still crying for? Just because you didn’t get to sleep with me?” I nodded aggressively, latching onto his torso like an absolute parasite, silently watching my digital survival timer slowly crawl back into the safe zone as our proximity remained locked. Adrian’s face twisted into an expression of cold disgust, and he turned to look out the window, completely ignoring my clinginess. The car smoothly glided into a ultra-exclusive gated estate. “Get out,” Adrian commanded coldly. “Aren’t you coming?” “I have a corporate empire to run.” If he left, I was dead meat. The System started buzzing frantically in my ear again. 【Host! Kiss him until we’re maxed out!!! I don’t want to be wiped from the server!】 I cautiously crept across the leather seats, cornering him. “Can I… can I please kiss you again?” Adrian didn’t say a word. He just stared at my wet, tear-stained eyelashes with an intense, unblinking gaze. After what felt like an eternity, his large hand clamped around my jaw, tilting my head up as he permitted me to shamelessly claim his lips once more. His mouth was incredibly cool. The rough pad of his thumb stroked the delicate skin of my throat, sending an electric, intoxicating jolt straight down my spine. It felt entirely too good. Suddenly, a violent knock shattered the intimacy. I snapped my eyes open and looked out the tinted window. Gavin’s furious, enlarged face was pressed flat against the glass. I shrieked in terror, my heart nearly stopping. “You’ve got to be kidding me—” 【Host! Maintain the innocent sweetheart persona! Do not break character!】 I quickly clamped my hands over my mouth and dove directly under the dashboard, hiding beneath Adrian’s long legs, staring up at him with begging, desperate eyes. Fortunately, the heavy tint kept the interior completely invisible from the outside. Gavin’s face remained pressed to the glass, his voice muffled but sharp as he continued to knock. “Man, open up. I need a favor.” Adrian looked down at me hiding between his knees, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. He pressed his palm firmly onto the top of my head, pushing me down further. “Stay down, sweetheart. Lower, or he’ll see you.” Due to this incredibly scandalous posture, the intoxicating scent of winter mint radiating from him became completely overwhelming. Adrian rolled the window down a tiny fraction of an inch. “What is it?” Adrian asked, his tone flat and icy. “Elena ran away from the altar.” Adrian raised an eyebrow, a subtle, dark amusement playing on his features. “Oh? Then she really is… actively seeking death.” Gavin pulled out a cigarette, his hands shaking with rage as he lit it. “Do me a favor. A guy carried her out through the back exit. I know your security detail handles that perimeter, so they must have caught it on camera. Help me trace the license plate. I’m going to ruin him.” In my sudden spike of nerves, my head accidentally bumped hard against a very sensitive area between his thighs. Adrian let out a sharp, low hiss. He narrowed his eyes, looking down at me with a dangerous, hooded gaze. “Careful, sweetheart. Are you trying to ruin me too?” I clamped my mouth shut, not daring to make a sound. Gavin, hearing the muffled rustle, tried to peer deeper through the tiny gap in the window. He froze, his eyes widening slightly. “Since when do you keep a girl in your car? She looks incredibly flexible.” “Just started seeing her,” Adrian replied smoothly, his voice deep and steady. “She tends to bite.” Gavin narrowed his eyes, practically trying to squeeze his head through the crack. “She looks soft. Why don’t you introduce her to your boys?” As he spoke, Gavin reached down to yank the door handle. The automatic locks clicked shut instantly, courtesy of the driver. Adrian smiled, a cold, humorless expression. “She’s timid. Easily frightened. Maybe next time.” With that, under Gavin’s deeply suspicious glare, Adrian rolled the window all the way up, blocking him out entirely. He reached down and pulled me up by my chin. He noticed that my red lipstick was now completely smeared across the fabric of his dark suit trousers. With agonizing patience, his thumb brushed against my lips, wiping away the smudged makeup. “Look at that. Your ex-fiancé is suddenly getting very interested in you again.” “Which means… I have no choice but to lock you away where no one can find you.” 4 “Adrian Belmont is a literal psychopath.” I lay spread-eagled across Adrian’s massive King-sized bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. The psycho had locked me inside his private estate and vanished into thin air. In his place, his executive secretary arrived with a small army of delivery drivers, loading the walk-in closet with luxury goods. Silk nightgowns, designer shoes, and high-end handbags filled the space. The System was eating up the drama. 【Wow, Host, his keeping-a-mistress ritual is incredibly fancy.】 But was I short on cash? No! I was short on skinship! Adrian was playing a dangerous game of cat and mouse—letting me see him, but keeping himself entirely out of reach. Watching my survival timer slowly deplete to critical levels, I paced the room like a caged animal. 【Host, look out the window! There’s a high-society gala happening at the estate clubhouse down the road. Adrian is attending right now. If we sneak out, we can intercept him before the timer hits zero.】 So, I broke out. The second my feet hit the perimeter, the estate’s advanced security grid began to wail like a banshee. A moment later, my phone vibrated with a call from an unknown number. I picked it up, only to hear Adrian’s cool, amused voice on the other end. “Sweetheart, is this how you show your devotion? You better pray I don’t catch you.” I aggressively hung up the phone. Staring at the digital overlay showing exactly ten minutes left of my life, I ran faster, sprinting toward the grand ballroom. The gala was packed with elites. I pushed through the crowd, looking frantically for that familiar tall silhouette. But before I could find him, a violent grip caught the back of my hair, slamming me hard against the neoclassical stone wall. A sharp, white-hot pain shot from the back of my skull straight down my spine. I groaned, my teeth grinding together from the agony. “Elena. Where have you been hiding these past few days?” Gavin Sterling stepped out from the shadows, his face twisted into a dark, venomous scowl. My breath caught in my throat, every muscle in my body locking tight. If Gavin and Adrian ended up in the same room right now, the sheer narrative chaos would obliterate me. “Gavin,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice steady. “Let go of me.” “Let you go? So you can run back to whatever bastard you’ve been sleeping with?” His grip tightened, viciously ripping at my hair. “Tell me his name, Elena.” “I need to teach him a lesson. I need him to know that you don’t just pick up the trash I throw away.” I had almost forgotten what an absolute monster Gavin was. Whenever Scarlett ignored his texts, Gavin would use me as a literal proxy. He used to force me to go on extreme diets, ordering me to lose weight until I was as fragile and frail as Scarlett. But the moment Scarlett threw him a bone, he’d find my presence offensive, ordering me to gain weight because he couldn’t stand me looking like her. Half a year of his psychological torture had left me with chronic stomach ulcers and a broken constitution. “System, can I please call him a worthless piece of shit?” The System sighed. 【Your character template is the Innocent Sweetheart. You cannot break character or break the rules of engagement.】 As I was struggling to breathe beneath his chokehold, Scarlett emerged from the VIP lounge. She clamped her manicured hands over her mouth, her eyes instantly brimming with dramatic tears. “Gavin… why are you letting her filthy hands touch your suit?” Gavin’s head snapped around, panic flashing across his features the moment he saw her. “Scarlett, it’s not what it looks like—” “You liar!” Scarlett sobbed, her voice echoing through the corridor. “Don’t touch me! You’ve been near her… you smell disgusting!” Taking advantage of his distraction, I wrenched myself free from his grip and bolted down the long hallway. But Scarlett suddenly extended her designer heel, tripping me up. I lost my balance, smashing into a rolling cart of champagne towers, crashing heavily onto the marble floor. Shard of broken glass sliced deep into my palms. Scarlett continued to wail at the top of her lungs. Gavin rushed over, pulling her into his arms before executing a vicious kick straight into my ribs. “Hey! You made my girl cry. Apologize to her right now.” I gritted my teeth, staring at the flashing red countdown: Ten minutes remaining. The primitive urge to survive forced me to start crawling forward through the glass. A flash of pure malice crossed Scarlett’s eyes, and she raised her sharp, stiletto heel, aiming it directly at my bleeding hand. In a blind panic, I grabbed a jagged shard of green glass from the floor and drove it violently into her ankle. A blood-curdling shriek pierced the air. Instantly, a cold, mechanical voice echoed in my mind: 【CRITICAL VIOLATION: Host has assaulted a core narrative NPC. Deducting five minutes from survival time.】 It was the Chief Arbitrator—the supreme system code that governed all sub-servers. Its rulings were absolute and unappealable. The timer over my head instantly slashed in half. The System screamed in terror, 【Host! Adrian Belmont is right ahead! Forget everything else and get to him!】 I forced myself up, dripping blood as I pushed open the grand double doors of the ballroom. There, surrounded by a massive entourage of older executives, Adrian Belmont was walking slowly down the main corridor. 【Host! Drag him away from Gavin’s line of sight! Sleep with him right now!】 That was exactly my plan. Adrian paused, murmuring something to his secretary before turning his dark eyes directly toward me. My face was deathly pale, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. I bolted down the side corridor, looking for any empty room to commit the crime. Adrian’s lazy, deep voice drifted from behind me. “Elena, don’t tell me you broke out of my house just to turn yourself into a bleeding mess.” His stride was massive; one of his steps easily matched three of mine. He followed behind me with a slow, predatory leisure, like a wolf letting its prey run itself ragged. The ticking countdown in my head felt like a heavy iron bell shattering my nerves. Seeing me speed up in a frenzy, Adrian’s voice dropped into a dark, dangerous octave. “Keep running if you think you’re fast enough. But if I catch you, you already know what the punishment is.” At the end of the hall, I spotted an open conference room. The timer was flashing its final seconds. I abruptly whirled around, and before Adrian could even react, I grabbed him by his tie and violently dragged him into the room. I slammed him hard into the leather sofa, threw myself over him, and began to kiss him with a feral, manic desperation. The bleeding countdown instantly froze, slowly creeping back up. Adrian’s entire body went rigid. The cold, murderous arrogance in his eyes slowly dissolved into utter bewilderment. His lips were completely occupied by mine, rendering him speechless. His massive hand slid down my bare back, grabbing my collar and firmly pulling me back an inch to force some space between us. His handsome face was dark with irritation. “Elena Lockhart, take a breath—” “Shut up! Just let me kiss you!” Like a starving animal, I threw myself back over him, biting, bruising, and shamelessly devouring his lips. The scent of winter mint mixed with the rich, expensive aroma of aged whiskey, completely intoxicating me. But it wasn’t fast enough. The timer was rising too slowly. Breathless and completely out of my mind, I yanked at Adrian’s silk tie. “Adrian, let’s sleep together. Right now. On this couch.” It turns out that when faced with literal annihilation, human beings completely lose all sanity. I was so consumed by survival that I failed to notice a glaring detail. We weren’t alone. Far from it. “P-please… unhand our Chief Executive Officer!” A trembling, elderly voice echoed from the dark corner of the room. I froze, slowly turning my head. Sixteen elderly, high-ranking board members of the Belmont Group were sitting around the mahogany conference table, staring in absolute, petrified silence at my hands—which were currently unbuckling Adrian’s belt. The silence was deafening. Adrian suddenly let out a low, deeply wicked laugh. “Congratulations, sweetheart. You just told my entire Board of Directors that you’re going to ravage me.”

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My boyfriend suffered from clinical depression. His medication and expert therapy sessions cost thousands of dollars a month. To cure him, I worked day and night, taking on freelance art commissions and running food deliveries. My friends constantly warned me I was going to work myself into an early grave. That was until one day, I snatched a delivery order for an ultra-exclusive, gated mansion community. I respectfully used both hands to hand over a $2,500 premium sushi order to the customer. When I looked up, the boyfriend who was supposed to be at his psychological counseling session was standing in the doorway, staring at me in utter shock. 1 “Aren’t you supposed to be at the clinic, Carter?” I stared at the elegantly lavish mansion, my left hand gripping the sushi takeout box so tightly it ached. Even though the temperature outside was over 100 degrees, I was trembling like I had been plunged into an ice box. I had only ever seen places like this in movies. “I’m sorry, Harper, let me explain. Dr. Evans had an emergency this afternoon…” “I’m just hanging out at a friend’s place.” Caught red-handed, Carter lost his composure and reached out to grab my sleeve. It was his go-to move when apologizing. It always worked. But right now, it failed. I coldly slapped his hand away. I couldn’t name the brand of the custom-tailored shirt he was wearing, but the irony was suffocating. It suited his wealthy, aristocratic aura far better than the cheap basics he usually wore around me. I lowered my eyes, pulled out my phone, and opened the app for the city hospital. Seeing that Dr. Evans’ schedule still had plenty of open slots for the day, I lost the energy to even call out his lie. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my thoughts and forced myself to speak with a calm, steady voice: “Is this fun for you, Carter?” “Pretending to be a broke, depressed, struggling kid by my side… acting like you couldn’t even afford a cup of coffee… when in reality, you’re a billionaire heir who drops $2,500 on a single meal!” My lips trembled. I glared at the man in front of me with pure resentment, entirely unaware of when my eyes had filled with tears. “You really… played me for an absolute fool…” “$2,500! I have to make six thousand deliveries for that. That’s two months of non-stop work…” The most ridiculous part was the only app left open in my phone’s background. It was a text I had sent Carter half an hour ago. I told him we were having a feast tonight, that I was going to make his favorite slow-cooked beef stew. Because the customer in the rich neighborhood had been incredibly generous and left a $150 tip. I never in a million years imagined that the tip had come from Carter himself. 2 Late at night, Carter would hold me in his arms and whisper that my love was the only thing in this world he would never doubt. He said even his own parents’ love wasn’t as pure as mine. Those private whispers used to make me overjoyed, thinking I was the lucky one to find genuine sincerity in a world where it was so rare. Looking back now, I realized no one else would be stupid enough to risk heatstroke for a $5 hazard-pay bonus, just so they could scrape together enough money to pay for his medical bills a day earlier. “I haven’t slept more than five hours a night in ages. Even in my dreams, I was praying for you to get better.” “You knew that better than anyone, didn’t you?” My voice choked on the questions. Carter’s relatively calm expression finally cracked. With red rims around his eyes, he nodded. In that cramped, run-down studio apartment that was a thirty-minute walk just to get to the subway… he watched me suffer. He watched me stretch every single dollar. He watched me struggle, desperately paying for his twisted, hypocritical poverty simulator, just to treat the “depression” he had written into his character. He watched the entire thing like a god, cold and detached. “I’ll wire a sum of money to your bank account. Call it compensation.” “I’m sorry for doing this to you.” Carter lowered his head. His eyes carried guilt and a hint of panic. Realizing he could no longer lie his way out of this, he simply gave up. With stiff fingers, I pulled the crumpled receipt out of my pocket. It was a foot long, filled with orders for the highest-grade wagyu and sashimi. I crumpled it into a ball and hurled it at him with all my strength. Carter didn’t dodge. His expression was a mix of sorrow and regret. The air conditioning spilling out from the mansion offered a trace of coolness. Over the hum of the cicadas, footsteps approached from inside. Along with them came a whining, feminine voice: “Carter, is the food not here yet? I’m starving to death!” 3 Carter and I broke our standoff. His expression shifted drastically. As we both turned, a young woman in a lace slip dress walked toward the door. Panicked, Carter stepped forward to block her. “Why did you come out? I’ll be right back inside. Be good, go back in.” But the girl seemed determined to see what was going on. She walked around him and looked at me with a sweet smile, a flicker of recognition and contempt flashing in her almond eyes. “And this is…” No one answered. Seeing our mutual silence, the corners of her lips curled up. She naturally hooked her arm through Carter’s, pulling down the collar of her dusty-pink, sheer nightgown just a fraction. The red marks on her neck and the curves beneath the fabric were on full display. She leaned against Carter as if she had no bones. The man’s anxious gaze fell on me. In utter despair, I turned my head away and closed my eyes. My sweat-soaked hair clung uncomfortably to my face, and a throbbing pain pounded at my temples. I would have to be completely brain-dead not to know what had just happened here. I originally thought I was just the unlucky collateral damage in a rich boy’s poverty-simulation game. Now I realized I was just the spicy side-plot in a wealthy couple’s romance. What a disgusting joke. I didn’t want to stay another second. I turned around, packed up my delivery bag, and prepared to leave. But the girl suddenly called out to me: “Wait, are you the little slum-girlfriend Carter was playing with off-campus?” “I didn’t recognize you in that delivery uniform. You’re Harper from the Art Department, aren’t you?” 4 I froze, turning back to stare at her. A few seconds later, I finally placed her. She was a senior, one year above me. Serena Kensington. The wealthy, gorgeous, incredibly popular girl surrounded by admirers. But we had a history. Because she had used her family’s connections to steal my financial aid grant for one of her friends, I was the only person who refused to act like a sycophant around her. Seeing my darkened, unnatural expression, Serena tightened her grip on Carter’s arm. Feigning absolute delight, she spoke in a saccharine voice: “I can’t believe it, Carter! Last year, I casually complained to you about an annoying, stuck-up junior.” “You asked a few questions, and you actually went and ruined Harper for me. I have to admire your methods. So brilliant…” Serena looked up, shot me a glaring look, and continued: “So brilliant that you played our department’s great artistic genius, Harper, like a pathetic dog.” My hands, hanging by my sides, slowly curled into fists. The cold air from the mansion blew over me, but it brought no relief. To people like them, a normal person’s future, feelings, money, and sweat were nothing but annoying weeds on the side of the road. Not only did they ignore them, but they also went out of their way to trample them underfoot and spit on them. Serena leaned up and kissed Carter’s cheek—a reward for making a fool out of me—before shooting me a provocative look. Then, as if suddenly remembering something, her expression shifted into something bizarre and manic. She asked: “Harper, did Carter tell you he suffered from depression?” I frowned but didn’t deny it. Seeing my reaction, the woman burst into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over. The words that came out of her mouth made my blood run cold. “That’s because I told Carter you had a younger brother who committed suicide because of depression.” “As long as Carter said he had depression, I knew your brainless self would fall for it.” “And I was right.” 5 As her words hung in the air, time seemed to stop entirely, leaving only the droning of the cicadas. My brain exploded, obliterating every ounce of my sanity. I bit down hard on my lower lip, ripped the delivery helmet off my head, and hurled it at Carter like a madwoman. If I swallowed this humiliation, I might as well roll over and die. My chest heaving violently, I screamed: “Depression, huh?! Playing poor?! You love poking at people’s trauma?!” “You deserve to have parents who don’t love you, you animal! You deserved to watch your dad beat your mom right in front of you! Why didn’t he beat you to death while he was at it?!” “I’ll beat you to death for him right now!” During the year I spent with Carter, whether it was an act or real emotion, we had shared our deepest vulnerabilities. I knew his ultimate, unforgivable trauma was his parents’ coldness and neglect, leaving him starved of familial love his entire life. And right now, that became my weapon to attack and curse him. Before either of them could react, I lunged forward and started throwing punches wildly at Carter’s face. Fueled by pure, blinding rage, I gasped for air. My chronic lack of sleep made my head spin dizzily. The moment Serena mentioned my brother, Hayes, the fragile sanity I had clung to all afternoon instantly crumbled. He was my reverse scale—the one thing no one was allowed to touch. Until Serena finally managed to pull me away, Carter didn’t fight back once. He covered his mouth, his hand covered in blood. “Are you okay, Carter?! I’m calling the police!” “This crazy bitch has a death wish, daring to hit you?! I’ll have my dad…” Serena’s furious voice was thick with tears, but Carter grabbed her wrist and shook his head: “No. Don’t.” “It’s… what I owe her.” He smoothed down the hair I had violently messed up, stood up, and walked over to me. He pulled a solid gold card from his pocket and held it out to me: “The password is your birthday. I know what’s done can’t be undone, but… just take it. I’m sorry.” I let out a cold laugh, my eyes looking at him with nothing but ice and hatred. “Drop dead.” I forcefully snatched the gold card from between his fingers, spat out those words, and walked away. 6 There was $100,000 on the card. After demanding my final paycheck from the delivery dispatch boss, I quit my job. My 250-square-foot apartment could be seen from end to end in a single glance. When Carter and I moved out of our dorms, it was because he claimed the physical symptoms of his depression were worsening, and he needed me by his side every day. Originally, I hadn’t been completely unguarded when Carter aggressively forced his way into my life. But seeing that he suffered from the exact same illness as my brother… it softened my heart. It made me foolish. Even now, I couldn’t tell if my feelings for him had been driven more by love, or by an urgent, desperate need to compensate for the infinite guilt I felt toward my brother. I had been frantically, obsessively trying to cure Carter’s depression. It was as if I believed that by saving him, the nightmares I couldn’t escape would finally fade. Over the course of a year, we had accumulated a fair amount of things. But looking at the matching couple’s items felt like daggers in my eyes. I threw every single one of them straight into the trash. Listening to the rattling hum of the ancient air conditioner, I stared at the ceiling. Finally freed from my day-and-night exhaustion, I fell into a deep sleep. In my dream, I couldn’t tell how many times I had seen Hayes lying in that bathtub. He lay bloodless in a pool of dark red liquid. His skin was pale as porcelain, devoid of temperature, devoid of breath. An empty pill bottle was knocked over by his drooping fingertips. His long eyelashes were resting peacefully, just like the times he used to doze off waiting for me to finish studying. Except this time, he would never open them again. He would never rub his sleepy eyes and ask when his big sister was going to bed. On his phone, he had deleted his chat histories with everyone. The only thing he left behind was a message to me: “I’m sorry, sister,” along with a Venmo transfer of $500. It was every last cent he had. That year, the spring was blooming beautifully. Hayes, brilliant and talented, left the world during its best season. And I was forever trapped in that spring.

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“Stella, why are you arguing with a dying woman? You’re perfectly healthy.” Leo slammed the marriage papers onto the table, his voice laced with pure impatience. I’d just returned from the Dakar Rally, my right shoulder shattered, blood soaking through my racing suit. I risked my life to win the championship for him, and what I got in return was him marrying his first love. “She only has six months left. Can’t you just make things easy for her?” Only Leo, that fool, couldn’t see that his first love had been faking her illness all along. I looked at him, and then I laughed. “Leo, my right arm is ruined. Did you care even once?” He frowned. “What are you throwing a fit about now?” I didn’t say anything more. Instead, right in front of him, I dialed Vincent King’s number. “Mr. King, I’ll sign the cooperation agreement you mentioned last time.” Stella POV The roar of the engines ripped through the wind on the Death Valley track, kicking up clouds of yellow dust. I steered the battered red race car, cutting into the final turn at an impossible angle, executed an extreme drift, and sped across the finish line first. Bang. Confetti showered down. The crowd erupted. I won. It was a Dakar-level endurance race, forty-eight hours of continuous high-intensity driving. I had secured the most prestigious championship trophy for Leo Thorne’s “Redline” racing team. The moment I pushed open the car door, I practically fell out of the driver’s seat. My right shoulder had been severely dislocated in a crash yesterday. To finish the race, I popped it back in myself. Now my entire right arm was swollen and numb, blood soaking through the thick fire-resistant racing suit, a truly shocking sight. Before the race, Leo had kissed my forehead by the track. “Stella, as long as we win this championship, I’ll propose to you. I’ll let the whole world know that you are my only wife.” Seven years of a secret relationship, seven years of desperate battles, and I’d finally heard those words. I refused the stretcher offered by the medical team, enduring the excruciating pain, and dialed Leo’s number, full of expectation. “Sorry, the number you dialed is temporarily unavailable.” The cold, robotic female voice was like a bucket of ice water, dousing the fire in my heart. Perhaps he was busy preparing a surprise proposal? I found a team medic to casually bandage my wound and rushed back to the club’s base in the country on an overnight flight. It was late at night, and the base was quiet. I pushed open the door to Leo’s office. No flowers, no ring, no grand surprise, just an empty, cold room. The lounge door was ajar, and I heard Leo’s deep, gentle voice. A tone I rarely heard him use. “Summer, did you take your medicine? Don’t be scared, it’s just thunder. I’m right here on the phone with you.” “Be good. You’re my wife now. If I don’t stay with you, who will I stay with?” I froze in place, my blood seeming to turn to ice in an instant, even my breathing stopped. Wife? I pushed the door open. Leo heard the movement and turned his head. Seeing me covered in blood and grime, a flicker of panic crossed his eyes, but it quickly returned to his usual calm. He murmured a few soothing words into the phone, then quickly hung up. “You’re back. What happened to you?” He stepped forward, trying to check my injuries. I avoided his hand, my gaze fixed on the glaring marriage papers on his desk, next to a photo. In the photo, Leo wore a white shirt, and the woman beside him, with a gentle, fragile smile, was none other than his first love, Summer Hayes. The date on it was three days ago. That was the same day I almost plunged off a cliff in Death Valley, car and all, because of brake failure. “What’s this?” I asked calmly, so calmly that even I found it unbelievable. Leo’s face froze for a second, then he rubbed his temples, his tone laced with a sense of helpless justification. “Stella, listen to me. Summer’s congenital heart disease has worsened. The doctor says she only has six months at most. Her biggest regret in life is never getting to wear a wedding dress.” “Her family was forcing her to marry an old man for money. I couldn’t just stand by and watch her die with regrets.” “It’s just a piece of paper, a way to fulfill her dying wish. After… I’ll marry you properly, with all the pomp and circumstance you deserve.” Looking at the man I’d been with for seven years, I suddenly felt like I didn’t know him at all. “A piece of paper?” I pulled at the corners of my chapped lips. “Leo, while I was risking my life on the track to win a championship for you, you were marrying another woman. You call that ‘just a piece of paper’?” Leo frowned slightly, his voice deepening. “Stella, when did you become so heartless and calculating? You’re a healthy person with a great future, and Summer is dying! Are you really going to target even someone who’s about to die?” Heartless? Calculating? An excruciating pain shot through my right shoulder, making me almost unable to stand. I’d suffered countless injuries for his racing team, brushing shoulders with death several times. In the end, all I got was a “heartless.” “Fine, I won’t be calculating.” I lowered my eyes. There were no hysterical arguments, no weeping accusations. Because the moment my heart died, it was eerily silent. I turned, dragging my broken body, and walked out of that office, which held seven years of my youth, one step at a time. Just then, his phone rang again. “Leo, my chest hurts so much…” Summer’ weak, tearful voice came through. Leo turned, grabbed his car keys, and rushed out. He didn’t even look back at me.

Stella POV The cold rain lashed against my face as I took a taxi alone to the downtown hospital. The emergency room lights were harsh and blinding white. The orthopedic surgeon looked at my X-rays, his brows tightly furrowed, his tone severe. “Severe rotator cuff tear, accompanied by a comminuted fracture. You’ve let this injury go for too long. If Professor Miller doesn’t perform minimally invasive repair immediately, you won’t even be able to grip a steering wheel with this hand in the future, let alone race!” Professor Miller was a top orthopedic and sports rehabilitation expert in the country, and also the Redline team’s exclusive medical consultant, hired by Leo at a high salary. I gritted my teeth, enduring the sharp pain, and dialed Professor Miller’s number. “I’m sorry, Stella. Mr. Thorne just urgently called me to the VIP ward. Ms. Hayes had a sudden palpitation, and Mr. Thorne gave a strict order that I must stay here until all of Ms. Hayes’s indicators are completely stable. Your surgery… I’m afraid it will have to be pushed back.” My hand clutching the phone tightened sharply, my nails digging deep into my palm. Palpitation? Did a heart patient’s palpitation really require a top orthopedic expert to stand guard? I don’t know how I walked to the VIP ward door. Through the slightly ajar door, I saw Summer leaning back on the soft hospital bed, her face flushed, daintily sipping water that Leo was feeding her himself. Professor Miller and several other experts hovered around her like she was the center of the universe, terrified that this delicate patient might suffer the slightest mishap. “Leo, am I too delicate? Just a fright from thunder, and you’ve gone to all this trouble.” Summer spoke in a soft, delicate voice, her eyes subtly flickering in my direction. Leo meticulously wiped soup from the corner of her lips, his voice so tender it could melt butter. “Your health is the most important thing. Even a scratch is a huge deal to me.” I stood outside the door, blood from my right shoulder already dripping from my fingertips onto the cold tile floor, forming ghastly blood blossoms. A scratch was a huge deal. What about my comminuted fractured right arm? What about my career, teetering on the brink of ruin? In Leo’s eyes, they were nothing at all. I didn’t push the door open and humiliate myself. I turned and walked back to the emergency room, calmly telling the attending doctor: “I won’t wait. Please help me with a manual reduction and immobilization.” The doctor looked at me in shock. “Without anesthesia? This level of fracture, manual reduction will be so painful it could send someone into shock!” “It’s fine. I can take it.” Because no pain could hurt more than this battered heart right now. The reduction process was like death. The dull grinding of bone against bone in the silent exam room was bone-chilling. I bit down hard on my lip, cold sweat soaking my entire body, yet I didn’t make a single sound of pain. Only when I tasted the strong metallic tang of blood in my mouth did I collapse onto the hospital bed, utterly drained. It was already past midnight when my wound was dressed. Dragging my right arm, now encased in a heavy cast, I returned to the apartment Leo and I had shared for five years. Pushing open the door, I saw a pair of brand-new pink women’s slippers in the entryway. On the living room sofa, several unfamiliar women’s jackets were scattered. A faint scent of chamomile perfume, Summer’ favorite, hung in the air. I walked to the table. Where a photo of Leo and me used to be, there was now a wedding photo of Leo and Summer. In the picture, they gazed at each other lovingly, like a true couple. I watched it for a while, feeling as though these past five years had been an absurd joke. I walked into the bedroom, pulled out my suitcase, and began packing with one hand. The matching mugs I bought. Into the trash can. The scarf I’d knitted for him myself. Into the trash can. Photo albums, letters, and mementos filled with our sweet memories. All mercilessly swept into black trash bags. For three full hours, the once cozy bedroom became empty, leaving behind only Leo’s cold possessions. Just as I was about to zip up my suitcase, I heard the sound of the front door unlocking. Leo walked in, carrying a chill with him. Seeing the black trash bags piled in the living room, his brows furrowed tightly. “What in the world are you doing in the middle of the night?” He strode into the bedroom, and seeing the suitcase in my hand, his face instantly fell. “Stella, have you had enough of this drama? I told you Summer is just a patient. Are you really trying to force me by running away at a time like this?” I looked up. “I’m not causing drama, and I’m not forcing you.” I zipped up the suitcase, picked it up with one hand, and looked at him calmly. “Leo, let’s break up.”

Stella POV “Break up?” Leo laughed coldly, as if he’d heard the biggest joke. His gaze fell on my right arm, encased in a cast. A flicker of guilt crossed his eyes, but it was quickly masked by irritation. “Stella, can’t you be more sensible? Summer just fell asleep, and I rushed back overnight to calm you down, and this is your attitude? You’re going to break up with me over a marriage that’s only in name?” He took a step forward, trying to grab my hand. “Stop this drama, put your luggage back. What happened to your hand? I’ll have Professor Miller take a good look at it tomorrow.” I turned sideways, avoiding his touch. “No need. Professor Miller is very busy, and my hand isn’t Mr. Thorne’s concern.” I dragged my suitcase towards the door, but Leo blocked my way, his tall frame pressing against the doorframe. “If you dare to step out of this door today, you can forget about participating in any Redline team races for the rest of the year!” I merely glanced at him indifferently. “Suit yourself.” Leo was stunned. As we stood at an impasse, a crisp sound of glass shattering suddenly came from the bedroom. Leo’s face changed dramatically. He shoved me aside and rushed into the guest room. He pushed me, making me stumble, and my right arm hit the wall. The excruciating pain almost made me pass out. In the guest room, Summer stood barefoot among shattered glass, a small cut on her ankle. And what lay broken on the floor was my most treasured custom racing helmet. The gift Leo gave me when I won my first national championship. “Leo, I’m so sorry. I was thirsty and wanted to get some water, and I accidentally knocked over Stella’s helmet…” Summer’ eyes were red-rimmed, tears falling like broken beads, like a frightened deer. Leo picked her up tenderly, carrying her sideways and gently placing her on the bed. Then he turned and glared at me in the doorway, furious. “What were you doing leaving your helmet here? You know Summer isn’t well; what if it scared her and triggered a heart attack?!” Looking at the shattered helmet on the floor, it was like looking at seven years of my youth, broken into pieces. That was my private storage cabinet; Summer had rummaged through my things without permission. But I was too tired to explain. “It’s just a broken helmet. If it’s broken, it’s broken.” “Leo, anything you gave me, I find it disgusting.” Leo’s pupils constricted sharply. He stood up abruptly, took a few steps towards me, and gritted his teeth. “Stella, don’t push your luck! Summer didn’t mean it. Do you have to be so harsh and petty?” Summer weakly pulled at Leo’s sleeve from the bed. “Leo, don’t blame Stella. It’s all my fault. Stella, I know you hate me for taking Leo away, but I really don’t have long to live. Can’t you even spare me this little bit of time?” She cried, then looked at the Dakar championship trophy at my feet. “Leo, that trophy is so beautiful. Seeing it, I feel like I have the courage to overcome my illness…” Leo followed her gaze and walked towards me without hesitation. “Stella, give Summer the trophy. She needs some emotional support.” I protected the trophy, looking at him in disbelief. “Leo, are you crazy? This is the championship trophy I risked my life for!” “It’s just to borrow for a few days. Do you have to be so petty?” Leo impatiently reached out to grab it. “Let go!” In the struggle, the sharp metal edge of the trophy’s base cut deeply into the palm of my left hand. Blood instantly gushed out, dripping onto the clean floor. Leo snatched the trophy. Seeing my bleeding hand, his movements paused, and a hint of panic flashed in his eyes. But Summer let out a timely, painful whimper. “Leo, my chest feels so tight…” Leo immediately took the trophy and turned towards Summer, throwing a remark over his shoulder without looking back: “Go bandage it yourself. Don’t get the floor dirty.” I looked at my bloodied hands: my right hand with a comminuted fracture, my left hand with a wound so deep the bone was visible. I laughed, tears streaming down my face. I didn’t bandage it. Instead, I picked up my suitcase with one hand and, stepping through the spreading blood, walked out of that suffocating house without looking back. This time, Leo didn’t chase after me.

Stella POV Three days later, the Redline team’s championship celebration was held at the city’s most exclusive hotel. As the team owner, Leo booked the entire ballroom, inviting countless media and sponsors. As the biggest contributor to the championship win, I should have been the undisputed star of the night. But when I walked into the ballroom alone, wearing a simple black suit, my cast-encased right arm hidden in a wide sleeve, I found that the entire room’s focus was on someone else. At the end of the red carpet, Leo stood tall in a custom-tailored suit. On his arm, clinging to him, was Summer, fragile as a princess in a custom white gown. Camera flashes went off wildly. “Mr. Thorne, who is this beautiful lady?” A reporter shouted a question. Leo gazed tenderly at Summer and smiled slightly at the cameras. “Let me formally introduce everyone to my wife, Summer.” The entire room erupted in murmurs. Everyone knew Leo and I were the racing world’s “most beautiful couple.” Though never officially announced, it was an open secret. Now, Leo had suddenly announced he was married, and the bride was someone else entirely. Countless curious, sympathetic, and mocking gazes instantly fell upon me in the corner. I found a secluded spot and sat down. Days of persistent fever, coupled with the agonizing pain of my fracture and lack of food, caused spasms in my stomach. Cold sweat soaked the back of my shirt. I wasn’t here to argue today; I was here to formally submit my termination contract. Halfway through the banquet, Leo, glass in hand, walked from table to table chatting with Summer, finally arriving in front of me. “Stella, why are you hiding here alone? Why is your hand still in a cast?” Leo seemed to just notice my unusual state, his brow slightly furrowed, his tone carrying a hint of condescending pity. “You’re the hero tonight. Why aren’t you dressed up nicely?” I didn’t stand up; I just looked at him coldly. “Mr. Thorne, my termination contract has already been sent to your email. After tonight, I am no longer a Redline team driver.” Leo’s face instantly darkened, and the hand gripping his glass tightened sharply. “Stella, are you still throwing a tantrum? For the sake of a title, are you throwing away your own future? Leaving Redline, do you think any other team would want a cripple?” He deliberately emphasized “cripple,” trying to hurt me, to make me submit. I didn’t even flinch. “That’s not Mr. Thorne’s concern.” Seeing this, Summer, delicately holding a steaming glass of red wine, walked over to me. “Stella, Leo just cares too much about the team. Don’t be angry with him. I’ll toast you on his behalf, thank you for winning the championship for the team.” She leaned in close, and in a voice only we two could hear, she whispered provocatively in my ear: “The championship you risked your life for, didn’t it just become my plaything in the end? Stella, you’re so pathetic, like a stray dog no one wants.” I spat out, “Get lost.” I didn’t reach out to push Summer, but she suddenly shrieked, falling backward. The scalding red wine in her glass spilled entirely onto my uninjured left hand! “It’s so hot!” Summer fell to the ground, clutching her wrist and sobbing. The scalding liquid instantly turned my hand crimson, and a searing pain shot through me, but I simply gritted my teeth, not letting out a single cry of pain. “Summer!” Leo’s eyes were bloodshot. He rushed forward, sweeping Summer into his arms. He turned, his eyes crimson, glaring at me, and raised his hand. Slap! He landed a resounding slap across my face! “Stella! You are utterly malicious! Summer kindly offered you a toast, and you pushed her!” Leo put all his strength into that slap. My head snapped to the side, a trickle of blood escaping the corner of my mouth, my ears ringing. The entire ballroom was dead silent. I slowly turned my head, looking at the man who had laid a hand on me for another woman. I didn’t cover my face, nor did I cry; I just stared at him. “Leo, this slap severs our seven years of relationship.” I straightened up, ignoring the alarming redness and blisters on the back of my hand, and turned, walking step by step towards the ballroom door. “Stella! If you dare to walk out that door today, I promise to blacklist you from the racing world permanently!” Leo roared furiously behind me. I didn’t look back. I pushed open the heavy door and walked out into the pouring rain.

Stella POV The rain was torrential, as if it intended to drown the entire city. I swayed in the rain. The high fever, the agonizing pain of the fracture, the searing burn, and the churning spasms in my stomach finally pushed me to my limit. My vision began to blur, my legs gave out, and I tumbled forward into the cold puddles. Just as I thought I would be swallowed by the downpour, a black umbrella shielded me from the rain. A pair of expensive handmade leather shoes stopped in front of me. I struggled to lift my head, and through the blurry curtain of rain, I saw a man in a black trench coat with a stern face. Vincent. The owner of the Phantom racing team, Leo’s biggest rival in the racing world, and known in the circuit as a cold-blooded tyrant. “The Redline team’s champion driver, collapsed in the street like a stray dog?” Vincent looked down at me, his voice deep and cold, yet with a hint of barely perceptible anger. I had no strength to retort. I closed my eyes and completely succumbed to darkness. Vincent looked at my body, covered in injuries, his brows tightly furrowed. He bent down, picked me up bridal style, and strode towards the black Maybach parked by the roadside. “To the private hospital. Have all orthopedic and burn specialists on standby immediately.” Inside the car, Vincent looked at my cast-encased right arm and my left hand, now a mass of blisters, a terrifying storm brewing in his eyes. I lay unconscious for two full days and nights in Vincent’s private hospital. After the fever broke, I opened my eyes to see Vincent sitting by the bedside, looking through my medical records. “Awake?” Vincent closed the medical records, his gaze deep as he looked at me. “Comminuted fracture of the right arm, second-degree burns on the left hand, severe malnutrition. Stella, are you trying to run yourself into the ground?” I moved my parched lips. “Thank you for saving me, Mr. King.” “I didn’t save you for nothing.” Vincent tossed a contract onto my bedside table. “The Phantom team needs a lead driver. Sign it, and I’ll give you the best medical resources, guaranteeing your return to the track within six months.” I looked at the exorbitant signing bonus in the contract, a little taken aback. “My hand… it might be ruined.” “As long as you have a breath in you, I can get you back to your peak.” Vincent leaned forward, his imposing presence enveloping me. “What Leo discards as trash, I value as priceless. Stella, dare to take a gamble with me?” Looking at the ambition and certainty in the man’s eyes, my dead heart suddenly beat fiercely. With my burned left hand, I painstakingly gripped the pen and signed my name on the contract. “I’ll take that gamble.” The day after signing the contract, I insisted on being discharged against the doctors’ advice. I had to return to the Redline team’s base to retrieve my core racing data stored there and to officially terminate my contract with Leo. Vincent didn’t stop me; he simply sent two bodyguards and a private car to take me. At the Redline team’s base, the atmosphere was unusually oppressive. I pushed open the main door and walked straight to my private lounge. However, the moment I opened the door, I froze. My racing posters were torn to shreds, and my trophies were casually tossed into a cardboard box in the corner. The room had pink curtains, and the air was thick with the pungent scent of chamomile perfume. Summer was sitting in my exclusive massage chair, directing several staff members to move furniture. “This sofa is too hard. Leo said he’d replace it with a leather one for me. And that cabinet, throw it out; it’s an eyesore.”

Stella POV Seeing my appearance, a flicker of panic crossed Summer’ eyes, but she quickly adopted an innocent expression. “Stella, you’re back? Leo said you might not be racing anymore, and this lounge was empty, so he let me use it as an art studio for now. You don’t mind, do you?” I ignored her provocation and walked straight to the safe, inputting the password and retrieving the hard drive filled with core data. “Suit yourself. I don’t care for this dump anymore anyway.” I turned to leave, but Leo pushed open the door just then. Seeing me, a hint of barely perceptible surprise flashed in Leo’s eyes, but he quickly composed himself, adopting a condescending air. “So you decided to come back? I thought you were going to hide away forever.” He walked up to me, his gaze falling on my bandaged left hand, his brows furrowed almost imperceptibly. “Alright, stop being childish. Summer has given you back the lounge. Withdraw your termination email, and for tomorrow’s test race, you can instruct the new drivers as co-pilot.” He arranged everything for me as if that night’s slap and our breakup had never happened. I looked at this conceited man in front of me and found him utterly ridiculous. “Mr. Thorne, I think you’ve got something wrong.” I slapped a paper termination agreement and a check onto Leo’s chest. “I came here today to pay the breach of contract fee. From now on, I have absolutely no relationship with the Redline team, or with you, Leo.” Leo looked down at the enormous check, stamped with the Phantom team’s official seal, his face instantly turning ashen. “Phantom team? You actually hooked up with Vincent behind my back?!” Leo’s anger turned to a cold laugh. He grabbed my collar. “Stella, you’ve really gotten bold! To get back at me, you’d even provoke a ruthless monster like him?!” “Let go!” I looked at him coldly. “Who I sign with is my business.” “I don’t agree!” Leo violently tore the check to shreds, his eyes crimson. “You’re a Redline person, and you’ll die a Redline ghost! Do you think Vincent truly values you? He just wants to use you to humiliate me! Once this hand of yours is completely ruined, he’ll throw you away like trash!” “That’s still better than staying by your side and being a fawning dog!” I pushed him away forcefully. That hit a nerve, and Leo completely lost it. “Fine! Fine then! Stella, if you dare to walk out that door today, I promise to destroy your career and reputation! I will submit evidence to the Racing Association that you deliberately underperformed and leaked team secrets, ensuring you never set foot on a racetrack again!” He used my most cherished dream to ruthlessly threaten me. I stopped, turning to look at him. “Leo, you’re truly pathetic.” I didn’t say another word, turning decisively and walking out. Seeing this, Summer hurriedly chased after me, grabbing my arm, her face drenched in tears. “Stella, don’t go! It’s all my fault, I shouldn’t have used your lounge, please don’t be angry with Leo…” In the struggle, a malicious glint flashed in Summer’ eyes. Her high heel stomped hard and accurately on my cast-encased right foot, while her shoulder slammed into my comminuted fractured right arm! Excruciating pain instantly swept through my entire body. My vision went black, and out of instinct, I forcefully pushed Summer away. “Ah!” Summer stumbled and fell to the ground, hitting her forehead on the doorframe, a trickle of blood appearing. “Summer!” Leo’s eyes were bloodshot. He rushed forward and kicked me hard in the back of my knee. Already weak, the kick sent me sprawling to my knees. My right arm hit the hard tile floor, and the bones that had just been set dislocated again, letting out a dull crunch that set my teeth on edge. Cold sweat instantly drenched my entire body. I writhed on the floor in pain, even my breath tasting of blood. Leo held Summer, whose forehead was bleeding, and looked down at me, writhing in pain, his eyes cold as knives. “Stella, you’re hopeless! Get out of Redline now! I never want to see you again!” I don’t know how I walked out of the Redline team’s base. The excruciating pain in my right arm almost made me lose consciousness; every step felt like dancing on the edge of a knife. Seeing my condition, the bodyguards immediately stepped forward to support me and took me back to Vincent’s private hospital. After an emergency examination, Professor Miller looked at the X-rays, his face extremely grim. “Secondary dislocation, bone fragments have pierced the nerve. Stella, I need to operate on you immediately, but even if the surgery is successful, your chances of returning to peak condition are… less than twenty percent.” Less than twenty percent. Those words hit my heart like a death sentence. I closed my eyes. “Do it. Even if it’s only ten percent, I have to try.” The surgery lasted a full ten hours. When I woke up again, my right arm was rigidly immobilized with thick metal plates and a cast. Vincent stood by the window, an unlit cigarette between his fingers, his back exuding a chilling aura. “Leo did this?” He turned, a bloodthirsty storm brewing in his deep eyes. I didn’t speak, just stared silently at the ceiling. “I’ll make him pay.” Vincent crushed the cigarette in his palm, his voice icy cold. “No need,” I said. “Mr. King, this is between him and me. I’ll use my achievements on the track to personally crush the Redline team.” Vincent looked at me, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Good. I’ll be waiting.” Over the next month, I began hellish physical therapy. Every stretch was agonizing. I bit through countless wooden sticks, sweat and tears mixing, yet I never once asked to stop.

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“Julian, are you really going to marry Audrey, the one who poses nude for a living?” Liam Reynolds’ voice on the phone was dripping with undisguised contempt. Julian’s voice was cold and rational, like a blade dipped in ice. “It’s just a formality. Once Brandon Scott marries Lyla, I’ll give Audrey a sum of money and send her away.” So, he loved my own sister. He thought I was standing outside the studio, unable to hear anything. He thought the suit jacket he’d draped over my bare shoulders was a symbol of love and protection. He didn’t know I already had the key to a private island and a perpetually loyal lover in my account. Nor did he know I was patiently counting down the days until his performance ended. Audrey POV “Ms. Hayes, the transfer of your private island is complete,” Mr. Davies, my private butler, said over the transatlantic call. “The island is secluded. No communication devices can track your location.” “Additionally, your custom-designed family and companion service is ready. You paid a hefty sum for it. They’ve been implanted with the most advanced emotional programs. They will love you unconditionally and with absolute loyalty.” I stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking at my reflection in the glass, and softly agreed. “In thirty days, I’ll finish tying up all loose ends here and arrive on the island on schedule.” Hanging up the phone, I turned and walked back to the circular platform in the center of the art studio. This was Julian’s private studio. The air was filled with a mix of turpentine and a sophisticated woody scent. I untied the thin silk robe I was wearing, letting it fall to my ankles, exposing myself completely under the bright overhead lights. I am a nude model. In this field, it’s a profession accompanied by countless prejudices, condescension, and filthy speculation. But Julian Vance was an exception. He was one of the city’s most influential and wealthy figures, and also a gifted sculptor and painter. He once took off his expensive, high-end tailored suit, draped it over my bare, trembling shoulders, and in front of countless media flashes, kissed my collarbone and said, “In my eyes, you are the purest art in the world, my only muse.” “Cold?” A deep, mellow male voice interrupted my thoughts. Julian walked towards me, palette in hand. His fingertip, stained with a bit of warm paint, gently brushed against the small of my back. His gaze was focused and adoring, as if he were looking at a rare treasure. “Just ten more minutes, and this painting will be finished. For next month’s exhibition, I want the whole world to know how beautiful my wife, Audrey, is.” Wife. Hearing that word, my heart didn’t flutter with the usual sweetness. Instead, a bone-chilling coldness washed over me. I quietly lowered my gaze, remaining silent. Ten minutes later, Julian put down his paintbrush, picked up a cashmere blanket, and wrapped me snugly in it. He gently pressed a kiss to my forehead. “I’m going to wash my hands. After that, I’ll take you to try on wedding dresses.” Watching him walk into the bathroom, I noticed his phone casually placed next to the easel. The screen was lit, showing an ongoing FaceTime call with his friend, Liam. I took a step closer. Liam’s voice, a mix of teasing and pity, came clearly through the speaker. “Julian, are you really going to marry Audrey, the one who poses nude for a living? Are you crazy? How could the Vance family ever let a nude model marry into the family?” Amidst the sound of running water from the bathroom, Julian’s cold, rational voice came through his Bluetooth headset and reached my ears. “It’s just a formality. Brandon Scott dislikes Audrey’s profession and absolutely refuses to marry her, but his family is pressuring him not to break the engagement. If I don’t ‘steal’ Audrey’s fiancée status, how can Brandon be free to marry Lyla?” Liam sighed. “You’re something else. Just to let Lyla marry the man she loves, you, the heir to the Vance empire, are willing to humble yourself to pursue a nude model, even putting on this sickening act of being deeply in love and calling her your muse. Aren’t you afraid of getting trapped for life?” The water stopped running. Julian’s voice held a trace of barely suppressed tenderness, but it wasn’t for me. “As long as Lyla gets what she wants, everything I do is worth it. Once Lyla and Brandon are married, I’ll give Audrey a sum of money and send her away.” Boom. I felt all the blood in my body freeze instantly, and even breathing sent a tearing pain through me. It turned out that all his respect, favoritism, and protection for me over the past seven years had been nothing but lies. He pulled me out of the mire and put me on a pedestal, not because he loved me, but just to make way for my own sister, Lyla. What a grand and understated love. For Lyla’s happiness, he was willing to get his hands dirty, to embrace a “nude model” whom he fundamentally looked down on. I bit down hard on my lower lip until I tasted blood, forcing myself to turn around. There was no one here who loved me anymore. It’s okay. In thirty days, I’ll go to that deserted island, where I’ll have a lover who will never betray me.

Audrey POV The bathroom door opened, and Julian walked out, drying his hands. He put on his usual gentle mask, came up to me, and naturally pulled me into his arms, his chin gently brushing against my neck. “What’s wrong? You’re trembling. Are you cold?” His tone was so caring, his movements so gentle. If I hadn’t just heard those words with my own ears, I would never have believed that beneath this warm body lay a heart so cruel towards me. I suppressed the churning nausea in my stomach, subtly stepping back half a pace from his embrace, my voice calm. “No, I’m just a little tired.” Julian didn’t notice anything amiss, just dotingly ruffled my hair. “Then we won’t go try on wedding dresses today. You rest well at home. Tonight, I’ll cook your favorite dishes myself.” Looking into his deeply affectionate eyes, an image from five years ago flashed uncontrollably in my mind. At that time, I had just started as a nude model, and uncensored photos of me were maliciously leaked by the media. My biological parents, ashamed of me, locked me out of the house. My fiancé, Brandon Scott, even threw my photos in my face, calling me “low-class” and “disgusting.” It was Julian who descended like a god, blocking all the garbage and hateful camera flashes thrown at me. With the hands that had sculpted countless masterpieces, he gently wiped away the dirt from my face and declared to the world, “Art itself is innocent; it’s your eyes that are dirty. Audrey is my lifelong inspiration.” Back then, I thought I had found salvation. I took out my battered heart, carefully mended it, and gave it to him wholeheartedly. But now, it seemed it was nothing but a carefully planned hunt. His so-called “inspiration” was just to make me willingly give up Brandon. A special notification sound suddenly rang out in the quiet art studio, interrupting my thoughts. Julian picked up his phone, and his expression instantly changed with just one glance. His usually gentle brows tightened, and a hint of undisguised panic flashed in his eyes. “What’s wrong?” I asked, feigning ignorance. Julian hastily grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, not even sparing me a glance. “There’s a sudden emergency at the company. A multi-million dollar project has a glitch, and I have to go deal with it immediately. You wait patiently at home for me. Dinner might have to wait until tomorrow.” He spoke flawlessly, but as he turned away, I clearly saw the chat interface still lit up on his phone screen. It was a SnapChat message from Lyla, with an accompanying picture of a slender finger, with an extremely faint scratch on the fingertip, so shallow it hadn’t even bled. The caption read: “Julian, I accidentally scratched myself with a violin string while practicing. It hurts so much!” Because of such a trivial message, barely even a scratch, the man who constantly declared me his only inspiration, abandoned me without hesitation. The studio door was shut with a heavy thud. I stood there, looking at the empty room, and suddenly felt a strange sense of amusement. I once believed Julian was the man who loved me most in the world. But it turned out that in the face of a single scratch on Lyla’s finger, I, his “fiancée” who was about to marry him, wasn’t even worth an excuse. I didn’t cry. My tears had dried up during those long nights of being cursed by my parents and scorned by Brandon. I simply walked calmly to the easel, looking at the oil painting Julian had just finished. The woman in the painting was nude, her eyes pure and melancholic, breathtakingly beautiful. I picked up a paintbrush stained with black paint and, without the slightest hesitation, drew a huge, ugly ‘X’ across the woman’s face in the painting. Then, I turned and walked back to the bedroom, pulled out a black suitcase, and began to pack my belongings, one by one. Since I decided to leave, I would leave cleanly, without a trace.

Audrey POV After packing my usual clothes, I started to organize my documents, only to realize the most important ones weren’t with me. I paused for a moment, then changed into a conservative long-sleeved trench coat, wrapping myself up completely. I called an Uber to the Hayes family mansion. This was my home, yet I stood at the entrance like a cautious stranger. Ever since I insisted on becoming a nude model five years ago, against my family’s wishes, the Hayes family had changed their locks and never given me a key again. After ringing the doorbell, it took a full ten minutes for Martha, the housekeeper, to open the door, her face full of impatience. In the living room, my parents were sitting on the sofa, sipping tea. Seeing me walk in, their previously smiling faces instantly darkened, as if they had seen something repulsive. “What are you doing back? Our family’s name has been completely dragged through the mud by you, and you still have the nerve to step foot in this house?” Mom slammed her teacup onto the coffee table, her sharp voice piercing my ears. Dad just snorted, not even bothering to look at me directly. “What, you can’t make money flaunting yourself outside anymore, so you want to come back begging? Let me tell you, the Hayes family only has one daughter, Lyla. You disgusting thing, get out of here quickly and don’t soil our carpet!” I had heard such words countless times. Before, I would feel wronged, try to explain the difference between art and pornography, and cry, asking them why they only loved Lyla when we were both their daughters. But now, my heart was like a dry well, no longer stirred by any ripple. “I’ll just grab my things and leave.” I walked directly towards the study on the second floor. Just then, the front door of the mansion opened again. “I’ve brought Lyla home.” Julian’s voice echoed from the entrance hall. My steps abruptly halted. I turned around and saw Julian carefully escorting Lyla inside. Lyla was wearing a pure white, high-end couture dress, like a noble, flawless white swan. And Julian’s hand was loosely resting on her waist, his eyes filled with a tension and tenderness I had never seen directed at me. “Oh, my sweet daughter, how did you cut your hand? Let Mom see!” Mom’s harshness towards me instantly vanished, replaced by a face full of concern as she rushed to meet Lyla. Lyla leaned delicately against Julian, extending the finger whose red mark had almost disappeared. “I’m fine, I just practiced violin too hard. Thanks to Julian, he pushed aside a multi-million dollar meeting as soon as he heard I was hurt, insisting on taking me to the hospital for a bandage. The doctor even said the cut would have healed if we’d arrived any later.” Her words were full of boastfulness, but her eyes provocatively sought me out, standing at the top of the stairs. Julian finally noticed my presence. His body stiffened slightly. He subconsciously withdrew his hand from Lyla’s waist, a flicker of rapid panic and guilt in his eyes. “What are you doing here?” He quickly walked to the bottom of the stairs, trying to take my hand. “I… my meeting ended early, and I happened to pass by Lyla’s studio, so I gave her a ride home.” I avoided his touch. I looked at this man, full of lies, and felt utterly absurd. A multi-million dollar meeting? Happened to pass by? He could unhesitatingly abandon me for Lyla’s minor injury, yet now he wanted to play the deeply affectionate, innocent role in front of me. “Don’t blame Julian. He’s just too kind; he can’t stand to see anyone hurt.” Lyla stepped forward, her gaze sweeping over my tightly wrapped trench coat. A malicious smile played on her lips. “Are you finally feeling ashamed, dressed so heavily today? Julian actually told me that while he respects your ‘art,’ he’s still quite bothered by you letting so many men see you.” Julian’s face changed drastically, and he snapped, “Lyla, don’t talk nonsense!” He turned to me, explaining urgently. “Don’t listen to her. I never thought that. In my heart, you are always the purest.” I watched him silently, watching the undeniable hypocrisy in his eyes. I didn’t argue or make a scene. I simply calmly withdrew my gaze and turned to continue upstairs. “Whether it’s nonsense or not, it no longer matters.”

Audrey POV I easily found my documents in the bottom drawer of the study. After carefully placing them in my bag, I went downstairs. I had intended to leave immediately, but my mother’s cold, hard voice stopped me. “Since you’re back, have dinner before you go. Otherwise, people will say the Hayes family is cruel, not even feeding their own daughter.” Mom’s words were spoken with extreme reluctance. If Julian hadn’t been present, she probably would have already told Martha to get a broom and kick me out. I wanted to refuse, but I caught Julian’s pleading gaze out of the corner of my eye, as if he was begging me to cooperate with his act as the “devoted fiancé.” I felt apathetic and nodded, taking a seat at the very edge of the dining table. Martha soon served the dishes. The table was piled high with food I disliked, and many spicy dishes. I have severe stomach ulcers and cannot tolerate any spice. My family knew this, and Julian knew it even better. Once, when we were eating out, a bit of chili accidentally got into my soup, and I was in so much pain I broke out in a cold sweat. That day, Julian, who was always so dignified and composed, lost his temper in the restaurant and even personally took care of me. From then on, whenever he was present at a meal, there was never a trace of chili. But now, he looked at the table full of dishes and didn’t even frown. “Julian, try this. I specially asked Martha to make it. I know you’ve been eating her plain food lately, you must be tired of it.” Lyla picked up a piece of meat and naturally placed it in Julian’s bowl. Julian subconsciously glanced at me. Seeing that I had my head down and wasn’t reacting, he smiled and ate the meat. “Thanks, Lyla. It’s certainly been a while since I’ve had anything spicy.” So, he hadn’t changed his palate for me; he had just been enduring it. I picked up the glass of plain water in front of me, took a sip, and suppressed the faint pang of pain in my stomach. At the dinner table, my parents constantly served Lyla and Julian, the three of them chatting and laughing as if they were the only family, and I was just a transparent, superfluous decoration. “By the way,” Lyla suddenly changed the subject, directing her words at me, “I heard you’re having a solo exhibition next month? And Julian is personally organizing it for you?” My hand, holding the knife and fork, paused slightly. That exhibition was Julian’s promised “wedding gift” to me. He said he would use the most magnificent exhibition to showcase my beauty to the world and wash away all the shame associated with me. “Yes.” I replied indifferently. Lyla covered her mouth and chuckled, her eyes full of disdain. “You’re really brave. If I were like you, posing nude in front of men every day, I wouldn’t even dare to leave the house, let alone hold an art exhibition. I truly don’t know how you manage to be so… uninhibited.” “Lyla!” Mom sounded like she was scolding her, but her tone was full of indulgence, “She has no shame, but don’t you dare learn from her! Our family has always been respectable. How did we end up with such a disgrace!” I didn’t retort. I just quietly looked at Julian. The man who had once draped his jacket over me in front of countless people and shielded me, was now sitting quietly. Not only did he not refute them as he usually would, but he slightly frowned and spoke to me in an extremely gentle, yet somewhat condescending tone. “Lyla is young and speaks her mind; don’t take it to heart. However… they do have a point. After this exhibition, once we’re married, you should stop modeling. A Vance wife shouldn’t be out there, letting people judge her.” His voice was soft, but it felt like a dull knife, mercilessly cutting into my heart. This was his so-called “inspiration” and “art.” It turned out that, deep down, he was just like those who looked at me with prejudiced eyes, believing my profession was low-class, disgraceful, and needed to be hidden. Every one of his previous defenses was just an act to make Brandon comfortable with breaking off the engagement. I put down my knife and fork and stood up. “I’m full. Please enjoy your meal.” I didn’t look at Julian’s instantly stiff face, nor did I heed my parents’ curses. I walked directly out of the mansion and into the cold autumn night.

Audrey POV After returning from the Hayes’ residence, I began a quiet purge. Twenty-five days until I left for the island. I sorted and packed up all the expensive gowns and jewelry Julian had customized for me in my walk-in closet, then contacted a luxury resale specialist. I dug out the “model contracts” I once treasured. The promises Julian had personally written, ensuring I would be his exclusive muse. His handwriting was strong and bold, once etching itself into my heart with every stroke, but now it only felt ironic. I lit a lighter, watching the papers turn to ash in the metal basin. “What are you burning?” Julian pushed open the door, a faint smell of alcohol clinging to him. Seeing the metal basin on the floor, he frowned slightly and quickly stepped forward, stomping out the last embers. “Just some unwanted scraps of paper.” I stood up. Julian looked at me. He stepped forward, pulled me forcefully into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of my head, his voice tinged with a hint of appeasement. “Are you still angry with me? That day at your parents’ house, I was just trying to calm them down. You know, you’re the only one in my heart.” He paused, then produced a gilded invitation as if it were a treasure. “Tomorrow is the opening of the exhibition. I promise, this exhibition, named ‘Audrey: A New Beginning’, will make you the most dazzling queen in the entire art world. All the rumors will be silenced.” I lowered my gaze, looking at the invitation card bearing my name, and a silent, cold laugh escaped my heart. If I hadn’t overheard his conversation with Liam that day, I probably would have been moved to tears. “Okay.” I softly agreed. The next evening, the city’s largest private art gallery was brightly lit. I wore a conservative black long dress and walked into the exhibition hall, holding Julian’s hand. However, when I looked up at the giant poster in the center of the hall, my steps froze. On the poster, the originally planned exhibition title, “Audrey: A New Beginning,” had been conspicuously replaced with “Lyla’s Growth.” The irony wasn’t lost on me. And in the very center of the exhibition hall, under the brightest spotlights, wasn’t the oil painting of me, but a massive sculpture. The sculpture depicted a young girl in a ballet dress, pure, noble, and untouchable. It was Lyla’s face. I looked for a long time. Finally, in the darkest, most inconspicuous corner of the exhibition hall, I found my artwork. The painting depicted me nude, bathed in dark red light, creating an ambiguous and alluring tone. Below the painting hung a glaring label: “Mud under the Swan’s Feet.” Mud. So this was his idea of a “queen.” Guests gathered in small groups, pointing at the painting in the corner and letting out subtle, knowing chuckles. “I heard this is Mr. Vance’s common fiancée? Her figure isn’t bad, no wonder she managed to seduce him.” “The contrast is too stark, isn’t it? That sculpture in the middle is Lyla, the eldest daughter of the Hayes family, right? That’s true art, elegant and sacred. The one in the corner is, at most, an explicit photo.” “Mr. Vance’s intentions are brilliant. Putting his fiancée’s nude painting beneath his beloved’s sculpture as a backdrop. Isn’t that a blatant insult?” Their harsh words pierced my ears like needles. I turned and looked at Julian, who stood beside me. He was wearing a well-tailored suit, a flawless smile on his face. He didn’t even glance at me, his gaze fixed dreamily on the sculpture of Lyla in the center. “Is this your gift to me?” My voice was very soft, yet it was unusually clear in the noisy exhibition hall. Julian snapped back to reality, meeting my eyes. He quickly grabbed my hand, lowering his voice to explain. “Listen to me. Lyla is applying to the Royal Art Academy, and she needs a prominent exhibition credit. You don’t care about these superficial things, do you? You’re my private muse. These paintings are in the corner to protect you, to keep too many people from seeing your body.” Protect? Stripping away my dignity and trampling it underfoot to elevate Lyla’s throne. Was this protection? I forcefully pulled my hand away, one finger at a time, prying his grip loose. “Julian, you’re disgusting.”

Audrey POV I didn’t make a scene at the exhibition. I simply turned and walked out of that suffocating art gallery, leaving Julian stunned. The cold wind on my face felt incredibly clear. Fifteen days until I left for the island. Back in the empty mansion, I turned off my phone, cutting off all outside noise. I began to liquidate my assets even faster, transferring all the money from the resale of luxury items into the overseas account provided by my private butler. Three days later, when I turned my phone back on, a deluge of news notifications popped up. “Breaking! Brandon Scott and Lyla Hayes officially announce engagement!” “Wedding of the Century! The Scott and Hayes families unite, the most perfect couple!” The accompanying photo showed Brandon in a white suit, gently kissing Lyla’s hand. Standing behind them, as a “male relative of the bride,” was Julian. In the photo, Julian’s eyes were deeply fixed on Lyla, harboring a profound, suppressed affection that even the media could discern. I quietly looked at the photo, and the last ripple in my heart completely settled. He finally got what he wanted. Using my dignity, my reputation, and my seven years of youth, he paved a smooth path for the woman he loved. Late that night, the mansion door was suddenly pushed open. Julian stumbled in, reeking of alcohol. His eyes were bloodshot, his tie askew. He had completely lost his usual aristocratic composure. Seeing me on the sofa, he seemed to find an outlet for his emotions. He lunged, pinning me roughly to the couch. He buried his head in my neck, his voice conveying a almost pathological sense of relief and pain. “She’s engaged… she finally got what she wanted…” The strong smell of alcohol mixed with his familiar woody scent made me feel a wave of physical revulsion. I stared coldly at the man pressing down on me. “Julian, what the hell are you doing?” “I’m not crazy!” Julian suddenly lifted his head, staring at me with a wild, possessive look. “It’s all over! Brandon married her. I don’t have to worry about her being wronged anymore. Now I only have you. Let’s get married, let’s get married right now, okay?” He said, lowering his head to kiss my lips, his hands roughly pulling at the buttons of my sleepwear. I used all my strength, delivering a sharp slap to his face. The crisp sound of the slap echoed in the silent living room. Julian’s head was knocked to the side. The alcohol in his system seemed to clear up a bit. He touched his stinging cheek, his eyes instantly turning sinister and terrifying. “You hit me?” He sneered, his eyes filled with the brutality of a torn facade. “Audrey, why are you acting so high and mighty? You’re nothing but a nude model who poses for paintings! Besides me, what other man in this world would marry you? Brandon thought you were dirty, your parents thought you were a disgrace. What do you think you are?” The most vicious words often come from the most intimate people. He stepped right on my most painful wound. He was trying to hide his own pain of losing Lyla. By belittling me, he tried to prove he was still the god who controlled everything. I didn’t struggle, nor did I cry. I just looked at him like he was a pathetic creature. “Yes, I’m dirty.” “So, Mr. Vance, don’t soil your noble hands.” He suddenly stopped all his movements, looking into my eyes. He scrambled off me, trying to fix my torn collar. “I’m sorry, I was drunk… I didn’t mean that…” I avoided his hand, stood up, straightened my clothes, and walked upstairs without looking back.

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After Caleb Miller left in the middle of the night again for his former fated mate, I learned one thing: to stop caring. He’d go thirty hours without replying while on night patrol, and I wouldn’t wait anymore. He’d forget my birthday, and I wouldn’t bring it up. When an enemy bit my ankle, I’d grit my teeth, bandage it myself, and continue combat training. Loving someone is hard, but letting go is simple. Joanna Bennett POV Today was the public combat exhibition at the Full Moon Ceremony. The third act involved a high-difficulty combat combo. The moment I landed the ninth move, a searing pain shot through the old wound in my ankle. A crowd gathered at the edge of the training field. “Joanna! Should we stop?” My forehead instantly beaded with cold sweat, and my vision briefly blurred. The ankle wound was from three days ago, a fierce bite from an attacker during a skirmish. The doctor said the wound contained a unique toxin that was hard to remove immediately, and that I should rest, but I hadn’t listened. Gritting my teeth, I waved them off. “It’s the last act.” I don’t remember how I managed to get through eight minutes of solo demonstration. I only remember the loud applause at the end, the bonfire’s light flickering in my blurred vision, and dark red blood seeping through the bandage on my ankle. I smiled and bowed three times. No one saw me shaking all over from the pain as I walked off the stage, almost needing to lean against the wall to stand steady. One A.M., at the pack hospital. I sat alone on a plastic chair in the observation room, applying special herbal medicine. The doctor’s brows furrowed tightly. “The wound toxin wasn’t completely removed, which is why it split open. Why did you wait until now to come?” “I just finished the exhibition,” my voice was a little hoarse. While recording my information, the doctor glanced at my pale face and casually asked, “You’re Caleb Miller’s girlfriend, aren’t you? Many people saw you two together, maybe five days ago?” My eyelashes fluttered. Caleb Miller, son of Frostveil Pack’s Alpha. And my boyfriend. We had indeed been together five days ago; he’d asked me out on a date. But the next day, I waited five hours at the restaurant we’d booked, only to receive a text saying, “Something came up, we’ll reschedule.” That “reschedule” never came. “Do you want me to call him over for you? I saw them finish their patrol,” the doctor kindly offered. “No need,” I said. “Don’t disturb his work.” No sooner had I spoken than footsteps echoed from the end of the hallway. Caleb came downstairs and paused as he passed the observation room. He turned and walked in, his gaze falling on my ankle, and his brows immediately furrowed. “You’re hurt again? Why didn’t you tell me?” He crouched down, his disapproval evident. I pulled my foot back. “It’s just a small injury.” Caleb’s hand froze in mid-air, looking at me in surprise. Before, if I even scraped my skin during training, I’d take a picture and send it to him, whining, “My wound hurts so much, I miss you.” Before every important mission, I’d nervously burrow into his arms, repeatedly asking, “You’ll be by my side, right?” Now, with old wounds tearing open and new ones piling on, there wasn’t a trace of complaint on my face. I wouldn’t even let him touch me. Before he could ask, footsteps sounded from the end of the hallway. “Caleb!” The voice was soft and gentle, with a hint of laughter. Chloe walked over, carrying two hot drinks, and naturally stood beside Caleb. “Your favorite mocha, light on sugar and milk.” She handed him a cup, then her gaze shifted to me, pausing for a beat. “This is… your friend?” Caleb took the hot drink, his voice unconsciously softening by half a degree. “My girlfriend, Joanna Bennett. She hurt her foot.” “Oh my goodness, is it serious?” Chloe immediately crouched down to look at my ankle. “Hi, I’m Chloe Davis. You really can’t do any high-intensity training with this injury, you need to rest.” Her tone was sincere. The fleeting hint of disdain in her eyes was also sincere. Chloe, I knew her too. She had some Alpha blood, making her a strong fighter. She was also Caleb’s ex; they were once fated mates, but Chloe chose to go abroad to a werewolf academy for five years. They had differing opinions, so they held a rejection ceremony. Five years later, she was back, and Caleb still prioritized her. Maybe they truly were the right partners, and they would always find their way back to each other. And I was just an interlude during those five years, nothing significant. “Thanks,” I said. “The doctor already treated it.” As Chloe stood up, her shoulder brushed against Caleb’s arm. “Caleb, you still have patrol tonight, I’ll go with you.” “Okay.” Caleb seemed not to notice her familiarity. He looked at me. “I’ll take you home first.” “No need.” I pushed myself up using the armrest. The herbs had been applied to the wound, removing some of the remaining toxins. But it still wasn’t healed, so I had to use crutches for now. Caleb frowned. “How can you—” But I was already walking away. The crutches tapped against the ground, one steady rhythm after another. Chloe’s voice drifted from behind me, clear even across the entire hallway. “Caleb, did she misunderstand something? Should I go explain it to her?” “She’s not like that,” Caleb’s voice held a hint of helplessness. I didn’t look back. For five years, I never made a fuss, never questioned, never chased after answers. I thought that by being understanding and considerate, I would earn Caleb’s attention, but instead, I got his neglect. I had thought about texting him on the way to the hospital. But when I opened my phone, I saw a message I’d sent three days ago. “Full Moon Exhibition today, I have a solo combat demonstration. Will you come?” He hadn’t replied. I knew it wasn’t that he forgot; he just didn’t want to reply. In his life’s priorities, I ranked after the pack, after his missions, after that hot drink with light sugar and milk. And definitely after Chloe. It had always been that way. Back home, I pulled open the study drawer. The invitation from the Shadow Fang Pack lay quietly inside; I had read it many times. [We sincerely invite you to join the Shadow Fang Pack as a Warrior Trainer.] My thumb traced the gilded totem on the paper. I remembered how easily he took the hot drink Chloe offered at the hospital, how his tone unconsciously softened when he spoke to her, and how he hadn’t even asked if I was hurting when I got injured that day. Five years. I had waited for countless “reschedules,” for countless “something came up” excuses. I didn’t want to wait anymore. I found a piece of letter paper and personally wrote a reply: [Thank you for the invitation, I accept. I will report for duty within seven days. – Joanna Bennett]

Joanna Bennett POV That night, a stinging pain radiated from my ankle wound, throbbing beneath my skin. The painkillers the doctor gave me weren’t doing much. My wolf was growling restlessly, helpless. I didn’t know where those attackers had gotten such a toxin. I didn’t sleep all night. Caleb didn’t come home all night. At seven in the morning, I hobbled into the kitchen on my crutches. As I was chopping vegetables, I suddenly thought of my mom. I rarely saw her either. She was a powerful werewolf warrior, responsible for protecting our Luna, her schedule always packed. Even on her rare days off, she was often called back for urgent tasks. Since childhood, I’d been used to eating alone, sleeping alone, and going to school with my keys hanging around my neck. But every time my mom came home, she would be busy in the kitchen for a long time, preparing meals for the next few days, arranging them in containers in the fridge, with sticky notes on the lids: “Eat this on Tuesday,” “Remember to heat this box for two minutes.” Later, she had an accident during an attack, suffering severe injuries while saving the Luna. From falling down to passing away, it was only eleven hours. At nineteen, I stood before her body, my mind a blank. I don’t remember my reaction then, only that my knees hurt when they hit the floor tiles, and I cried until I couldn’t breathe, feeling like all the strength had been drained from me. Pack members stood around, but no one approached at that moment. Suddenly, someone crouched down in front of me. A warm drink was handed to me, still carrying the warmth of a hand. I looked up and saw a young face with gentle eyes. “Don’t cry,” he said, his voice soft. “Your mother was a great warrior, she protected all of us. Even though she’s gone, we’ll all remember her.” Through a veil of tears, I saw his face: Caleb Miller. The Alpha’s son. I didn’t drink that bottle of soda, but I held it in my hands until it was completely cold. From that day on, I remembered him and those gentle eyes. The second time I saw him was two years later. It was my final graduation exam at the training grounds. The sky was already dark when the mission ended, making it hard to see my surroundings, but as I was checking in, I unintentionally glanced towards the assembly point and saw a familiar figure standing in the corner. He stood there quietly, wearing a dark blue uniform, applauding without much enthusiasm, but very earnestly. Afterward, I didn’t change, but ran out of the training grounds clutching a bouquet of pink roses, stopping him at the entrance. “Caleb Miller, can I pursue you?” He looked at me, clearly stunned for a moment. Then he smiled, a gentle smile that held a weariness I didn’t understand at the time. “I just lost my fated mate. I’m… not over it yet.” I knew he was rejecting me. But the warmth of that drink was still in my heart, and those ten minutes of companionship were still in my memory. I so desperately wanted that kind of gentle love, unique, a favoritism meant only for me. Growing up, with my father’s early death and my mother’s passing, I had never been looked at with such focused attention. He appeared at my most helpless moment; even just a bottle of soda and a word of comfort felt like a beacon of light to me. “It’s okay,” I heard myself say. “I can help you get through it, slowly.” I thought that if I was patient and sincere enough, he would eventually turn and see me. In the five years we were together, Caleb was indeed good to me. He would train with me, go on missions with me, and take me to the doctor if I was injured. But that kindness always felt veiled. Gentle, yes, but never passionate. He smiled at me, but also at every pack member. I couldn’t tell if I was special to him or just one among many. I convinced myself it was enough. Being loved by a gentle person was enough. On his birthday, I felt our relationship should move to the next stage. I booked his favorite restaurant, prepared a ring, and decorated with roses. That evening, as I was rehearsing what to say in front of the mirror, my phone rang. Caleb’s voice was urgent: “Chloe Davis is back, and she’s injured. I’m going to the hospital first; wait for me at the restaurant.” The call ended. The ring was in my pocket, and I waited five hours at the restaurant. He didn’t come, nor did he call. From that day on, everything changed. During the time Chloe was back, whenever she called, Caleb would immediately rush over, no matter what he was doing. He started coming home late frequently, becoming absent-minded, and there was something in his eyes when he spoke of Chloe that I had never seen before. I told myself that once Chloe recovered, perhaps everything would return to normal. Until that late night. I got up to retrieve something from the study and accidentally knocked over an old photo album from a corner of the bookshelf. The album fell to the floor, scattering its contents. Every page featured Chloe. Some were candid shots, some were posed together. The backgrounds ranged from training grounds to hospitals, from summer to winter. And on the back of every photo, Caleb’s handwriting. “Day 47.” “Missing you.” “A new recruit shares your birthday today.” I crouched on the floor, turning page after page, my fingers not trembling. The date on the last photo was a week before our fifth anniversary. On the back, it read: “If you hadn’t left then, I would never have let go.” I closed the album and placed it back in the corner of the bookshelf, neatly arranged, exactly as it had been before I took it down.

Joanna Bennett POV I went to the training field despite my injury. My ankle was thickly bandaged; I didn’t participate, only supervised training all day from the sidelines. Someone asked if I wanted to take the day off, but I said no, sitting there was still work. I returned home at 8 PM; the entryway light was off. Only my shoes were on the shoe rack, and there were no messages from him on my phone. Another day and night he hadn’t come home. I was pouring water when I received Alpha Leo’s mind link. “Have you really decided to leave?” he asked me. “Yes. I… I want to go somewhere I can better utilize my abilities.” In the Frostveil Pack, I seemed destined to be just a squad leader. Because the pack’s Beta and Delta held considerable influence, it was difficult for me to surpass their positions. “More than that, we want you to be safe,” Alpha Leo said. “That’s also why we didn’t arrange for you to inherit your mother’s position; we couldn’t let her only daughter continue to face danger.” I was silent for a moment, then genuinely said, “Thank you, Alpha Leo. Even if I leave the pack, I will always love you and Luna Elena.” Alpha Leo sighed. “Alright, gather your documents. Beta Cole will arrange everything for your departure.” Ending the conversation, I walked into the bedroom. I opened the bedside table: identification, bank cards, and some documents related to the squad I managed. And, of course, the investigation into the attackers’ identity… I placed the documents one by one into a folder. Mid-packing, I suddenly paused and scanned the room. Caleb had a slight obsession with cleanliness; he disliked having too many cluttered items at home. When I first moved in, I bought a floor lamp, but he said it didn’t match, so I returned it. Later, I wanted to grow flowers on the balcony, but he said it would attract bugs, so I didn’t. Over five years, I had learned to curb my presence in this home. Only now, as I packed, did I realize how few of my belongings there were, not even enough to fill one suitcase. A few changes of seasonal clothes, a pair of spare combat boots, a jewelry box, identification documents, and some files from when I became a patrol squad leader. That was all. Five years, condensed into half a suitcase. The bedroom door suddenly opened. Caleb walked in, pausing when he saw the scattered documents on the bed. “What are you busy with?” “Organizing some materials,” I said, not looking up. “I thought we could travel together for Christmas, so I’m preparing in advance.” “Christmas?” Caleb glanced at me. “It’s only July—” He was cut off by his phone ringing. Chloe’s name lit up the screen. “Caleb, I’m not very familiar with tonight’s patrol route, can you come help me?” The voice on the other end wasn’t loud, but in the quiet room, it was clearly audible. Caleb hung up and looked at me, his lips moving. He looked guilty, yet he couldn’t put Chloe aside. “Go,” I said, folding a document and slipping it into a bag. “Work is important.” Caleb stood still, his brows furrowed, perhaps sensing something was off. If it had been the old me, I would have frowned and said, “She’s a werewolf warrior too, why can’t she handle such a small thing?” “There are so many warriors in the pack, why does she always call you?” But this time, I said nothing. My eyes didn’t even leave the documents. “I might not be back tonight,” he said. “Dinner together tomorrow morning?” “Okay.” Caleb left, relieved. The door closed softly. Listening to his footsteps fade, I packed all the remaining materials into the folder and sealed it.

Joanna Bennett POV I woke up the next day to a cold pillow. I picked up my phone and saw a message, sent at three A.M. [Last night was an emergency. Couldn’t make it back this morning. I’m sorry.] I looked at it for two seconds, then locked the screen. The apology was real, and so was his inability to return. There were always so many things ahead of me, so many that “I’m sorry” had become a common phrase. After training that evening, I carried my bag home. As I changed shoes in the entryway, I heard voices in the living room. I walked in and saw Chloe sitting on the sofa, wearing loose loungewear, with a suitcase at her feet. Caleb stood beside her, his expression tightening the moment he saw me. “Chloe… she’s not quite settled since she came back, she always has trouble sleeping alone,” he fumbled for his words. “She lost touch with her pack friends during her years abroad, and now I’m the person she’s closest to. I thought I’d let her stay in the guest room for a few days, until she adjusts, then—” “Okay.” I put down my bag. Caleb tensed all over, his lips slightly parted, as if he was scrambling for excuses in his mind. But I agreed too quickly, so quickly that the expression on his face instantly froze, like he’d choked on cold air, unable to utter a single word. Chloe stood up from the sofa, her voice soft. “Caleb, can I invite a few friends over for dinner? A welcome home party for me. I’d feel more at ease if you arranged it.” Caleb hadn’t answered yet when I spoke. “Sure, I’ll prepare it.” Chloe smiled, a fleeting flash of triumph in her eyes. That evening, Chloe’s invited friends arrived one after another. They were all Caleb’s old friends, along with some members from other packs who had attended school with them. The living room quickly grew lively, everyone gathered around Chloe. They talked about her experiences, how she’d gotten thinner, how she was still as beautiful as ever. I was in the kitchen, cutting fruit, pouring drinks, and changing plates. I entered and exited the living room many times; no one asked if I wanted to sit down and chat with them. After a few rounds of drinks, someone, a little drunk, slung an arm around Caleb’s shoulder. “I say, Caleb, if you and Chloe hadn’t broken up back then, you’d probably have kids by now, right? Hahahaha—” The living room fell silent for an instant. Caleb’s face changed, and he sharply looked at me. I was coming out of the kitchen, carrying a platter of sliced watermelon. I placed the platter on the coffee table and smiled. “Yeah, what a shame.” My tone was light, like commenting on a movie. But no one dared to speak again. The man awkwardly drank his drink, and it took a while for the atmosphere to ease. Caleb stared at my profile for a long time. I was smiling. But there was nothing in that smile. No jealousy, no resentment, not even a trace of caring. Like an outsider hosting guests. After the dinner broke up, I was washing dishes in the kitchen. Chloe leaned against the doorframe. “Joanna, do you know that Caleb and I are fated mates?” The water faucet ran. My hands didn’t stop. “The Mating Ceremony was all planned,” Chloe said loudly. “I was the one who broke up with him. I wanted to go abroad, he begged me to stay, but I refused.” I turned off the faucet and placed the last plate in the rack. I turned around, drying my hands, and looked at Chloe. “So?” Chloe met my gaze, her smile confident, even carrying a hint of pity. “So I’m back.” She took a step forward. “This spot in this home is mine; it’s time for you, the replacement, to make your exit.” The kitchen was silent for a few seconds. I folded the hand towel and hung it back on the hook. “You’re right,” I said. “It is time for me to make my exit.” Chloe’s smile stiffened. “Joanna Bennett, you’d better understand your place. You’re just an orphan with no family, you—”

Joanna Bennett POV I cut her off. “Chloe, we’re all adults here. You can’t let go of Caleb, you can go after him, but there’s no need to put me down.” Chloe looked furious. I didn’t look at her again and walked out. In the living room, Caleb had just returned from seeing off his friends and bumped into me. He glanced at the kitchen, then at my face. “They had a bit too much to drink earlier, those things they said… don’t take them to heart.” I looked at him, silent for a few seconds. “Caleb Miller, I saw the photo album on your bookshelf.” The air in the living room seemed to solidify. “Every single one was Chloe, and on the back of each one were your words.” My voice was steady. “‘Day 47, missing you.’ ‘If you came back, I would never let go again.’” Caleb looked flustered, trying to grab my wrist, but I pulled away. “Joanna, let me explain, that was just—” “No need to explain.” I cut him off. Caleb stubbornly grabbed my hand. “Joanna,” his voice tightened, “Let’s talk—” “Caleb!” Chloe came out of the kitchen, holding up her hand, her voice urgent. “I accidentally cut my finger just now, it’s bleeding a lot. Quick, help me look, will it affect me doing missions later?” Blood was oozing from between her fingers. Caleb immediately released my wrist and strode towards Chloe. I stood there, looking down at my released wrist. A red mark remained, but it would soon fade. Just like all my traces of him. I glanced at the two of them, then turned and walked upstairs. My ankle injury still hadn’t healed; the bandage was wrapped tightly, and I had to lean heavily on the banister to climb the stairs. Amidst Caleb comforting Chloe in the background, as I reached the fourth step, the bandage accidentally caught on a metal bar. I didn’t have time to react, my foot slipped, and I fell heavily— That already swollen foot twisted sharply. A searing pain shot through me. I bit my lip, not making a sound. Caleb’s voice came from the living room: “What happened?” He took two steps towards me, then was called back. “Caleb, I’m still bleeding, please help me first…” His footsteps stopped. I bit my lip, slowly stood up by leaning on the wall. My left foot was completely useless; the blood from my ankle was close to soaking through the bandage. My wolf was almost entirely consumed by the pain and the agitation from the toxin. I pulled out my phone and dialed the doctor’s number. “Hello, my ankle is injured again. Could you please come pick me up?” Caleb finally walked over, his face pale. “I’ll take you.” “No need.” No sooner had I spoken than the sound of a vehicle came from outside. The doctor’s assistant came in and helped me into the car. I didn’t let Caleb touch me the entire time. Forty minutes later, after being treated, I walked out of the clinic on crutches. Caleb was waiting for me in the hallway. “Joanna.” He blocked my path. “What’s wrong with you tonight? Why are you so cold? If you’re angry, just say so, I can change, can’t I?” I stopped and looked at him. The hallway light was bright white; anxiety and confusion were in his eyes. “Caleb Miller,” I said, “haven’t you always hated it when I lost my temper?” Caleb froze. “Every time I confronted you about Chloe, you’d say I was too sensitive. You’d tell me to be more sensible, not to be unreasonable.” He opened his mouth, but no words came out. “Now I’m sensible,” I looked at him, my voice soft. “I’m not throwing a temper, I can solve problems on my own, without bothering you.” I paused. “Isn’t this what you always wanted?”

Joanna Bennett POV Caleb looked panicked. My eyes held genuine confusion. Caleb couldn’t meet my gaze. I walked towards the door on my crutches. The cold light of dawn shone on my retreating back, but I held my spine straight. He seemed very uncomfortable. “Joanna.” He caught up to me, bent down, and picked me up. I didn’t struggle, nor did I lean against him. I just lay quietly in his arms, like a piece of luggage. In the car, he buckled my seatbelt. When his fingers brushed against me, I flinched away. Caleb gripped the steering wheel in silence for a long time, then spoke. “Joanna, let’s have the Mating Ceremony.” His tone became resolute. “Let’s officially become mates.” The car was instantly silent. I turned my head to look at him. “Didn’t you always say a Mating Ceremony was too soon?” I said softly. “You said you liked our current state very much.” Caleb’s voice was hoarse. “We’ve been together for five years. We’re going to have a Mating Ceremony sooner or later, so why not… now?” I looked at the unconcealed tension in his eyes and suddenly found it amusing. That expression, for five years, had always been on my face. I had tested him countless times, and he always had an excuse: too busy, missions, “let’s wait.” Now that I didn’t care, he was suddenly anxious. That impatient look was almost as if he was trying to forcefully bind me to him with a mate bond. I didn’t answer. The ride was silent. When we got home, I went upstairs, and Caleb sat motionless on the sofa. My ankle throbbed faintly. I lay on the bed and closed my eyes. Soon after, I heard the sound of the front door closing and an engine starting downstairs. He went to find Chloe. It was expected, not worth losing sleep over. The next day, Beta Cole brought me my passport, plane ticket, and all other necessary documents for going abroad. The flight was booked for three days later. I confirmed the details, and when I returned to the apartment, Chloe was sitting there, eating pasta Caleb had cooked. “Morning.” Chloe smiled at me, her posture like the lady of the house. Caleb came out of the kitchen, his tone a little coaxing. “The weather’s nice today, why don’t the three of us go for a walk and relax?” I thought for a moment. “Sure.” There were large forests within the pack territory. Werewolves usually loved transforming into their wolf forms and running freely, rolling around in the forest. We didn’t do that; Chloe and Caleb seemed to prefer walking in human form. Chloe linked arms with Caleb, chatting about her experiences abroad, laughing and patting his shoulder. I walked behind them on my crutches, looking at the roadside flowers, at the clouds in the sky. No one looked back to tell me to catch up. And I didn’t need them to. There was a lake in the forest, a famous dating spot within the pack. As we reached the lake, Chloe walked over to me, her voice soft. “Joanna, who do you think Caleb would save first if there was danger?” Before I could answer, two wildly sprinting werewolves suddenly rushed towards us. Chloe screamed, didn’t dodge, but instead bumped into me. Due to my injured foot, I couldn’t dodge in time, and Chloe and I fell towards the lake. In that split second of falling, I saw Caleb rush over. His arms firmly caught Chloe. Chloe huddled in his embrace. Then I plunged into the cold lake water. Through the swirling water, I saw the two of them on the shore, tightly embracing. Chloe was buried in Caleb’s arms, and he held her shoulders tightly. I kept my eyes open in the water. The bandage on my ankle was soaked, and blood began to seep out again. I thought, I really wouldn’t have any expectations for Caleb anymore.

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For three years, my boyfriend Arthur had repeatedly suggested we live together, and I’d always declined. Now that we were engaged, I asked him if he wanted to move in. But he said: “It’s not really convenient. There’s a woman living at my place.” I froze. “What?” He sighed, a frustrated sound. “You’re not even willing to satisfy my most basic intimate needs. What am I supposed to do?” “I’m not a saint. If you can’t give it to me, I’ll find another woman.” “She’s just a casual arrangement. I pay her daily, and she takes care of my needs.” “You’re completely inexperienced in this area. Maybe you can talk to her; she knows all my preferred positions…” Seeing my silence, he continued: “Learn well, and I’ll see what kind of surprise you can give me on our wedding night.” Faced with such a shameless demand, I pulled out my phone and quickly sent a message to the wedding planner: [Wedding canceled.] I hadn’t told him that I’d bought the spacious condo he’d been eyeing. To surprise him, I’d spent the last year working tirelessly, securing several major clients and crushing two years of company KPIs into a single one. As soon as I received my bonus, I bought the apartment. I’d even secretly spent almost six months renovating it, all without his knowledge. This week, I’d meticulously decorated the bedroom, just waiting for today, when he and I would move in together. It was meant to celebrate our upcoming new chapter in life. I even had the agreement to add his name to the property deed ready, just waiting for us to get married. Thinking back to how I’d just asked to move in together, Arthur put an arm around my waist: “How about you buy a maid outfit? I’d love that!” I subtly shifted my body, avoiding his touch. Arthur didn’t notice at all; instead, he excitedly pulled out his phone: “I also like nurse uniforms. Can you get both?” “Look at Eve’s uniform temptation – isn’t it absolutely divine?” I stared intently as he opened a secret photo album on his phone, an album I’d never seen before. Inside, it was filled with countless photos of that girl named Eve. Maid outfits, nurse uniforms, sailor uniforms… Everything imaginable. Even I, a woman, felt my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Let alone Arthur, a hot-blooded man. But for some reason, I felt like this woman looked familiar. As if I’d seen her somewhere before. Before I could think it through, Arthur’s gulping sound interrupted my thoughts. To cover his awkwardness, he continued to scroll through their intimate photos. All of them were taken after he’d told me “goodnight.” It was laughable that I used to think it was incredibly self-disciplined for a grown man to go to bed early and wake up early every day. I’d even secretly rejoiced at finding a man who shared my routine. But I never imagined his night life was so rich. So rich that for three years of our relationship, he was cheating with other women every single night. He even kindly explained the bizarre sex toys in the photos that I’d never seen before: “Karen, these are game-changers! When Eve’s on her period, we just switch things up.” “Let me tell you, women, they should be classy during the day, and wild in bed at night.” His phone suddenly vibrated. A payment alert popped up. Only then did I realize that the $10,000 monthly salary he’d told me about was a lie. He nervously swiped away the $32,000 payment notification and rubbed his nose:

“Um, Karen, listen to me. Eve was a virgin when she started with me, $800 a night, a total steal.” “I found her for your own good, too. You have no idea how many diseases you can catch from streetwalkers; you could easily get an STD.” “But Eve is different. She’s a clean girl I carefully selected. She’s not only diligent and eager to learn, but also thoughtful and understanding. When we get married, she’ll move out on her own.” $800 a night, without a single day off. That meant at least $24,000 spent on Eve each month. No wonder he always told me his salary wasn’t enough, and he couldn’t afford a bigger apartment. Turns out, it was all going to other women. After three years of cheating like this, he actually had the audacity to claim he was “clean.” He once swore to my mom: “Don’t worry! I’ll cherish Karen, love and protect her, and work hard to give her the best of everything!” Yet the total amount he spent on me each month was less than a fraction of what he paid Eve. I looked at the familiar face before me, unable to believe this was the man I’d loved for three years. I loved him purely for who he was, for how he treated me, for his self-discipline and clean living, and for respecting my wish to not have sex before marriage. I thought that because he accepted no premarital sex, he would never betray me. But I never imagined that he had been betraying me since the first time I refused sex. Thankfully, it wasn’t too late. To show his apology, Arthur transferred his entire paycheck to me. I almost clicked ‘decline.’ But then he gave me a number. “We’re getting married soon; you should start seriously learning some essential bedroom skills.” “This is Eve’s SnapChat. Add her, and learn from her.” “Once you’ve mastered various sex techniques, I’ll hand over all my salary!” “I’m really looking forward to your surprise!” Before I could refuse, he had already called Eve, suggesting they have dinner together. It wasn’t until we arrived at the restaurant that I truly realized he wanted the three of us to eat together. His objective was for me to learn from Eve how to please him. I immediately exploded: “Arthur, do I look like some cheap tramp to you? If she wants to sell herself, that’s her business, but don’t you dare bring that trash near me!” He, however, became even angrier, frowning in disbelief: “What? I’m giving you money to learn how to please me, and you’re refusing?” “Eve’s even willing to teach you for free. You should be paying for this dinner, and you’re cursing at me?” Eve, with her ‘no-makeup makeup’ and innocent look, quickly reached out to smooth the frown between his eyebrows. She started soothing him in a sweet, soft voice: “Arthur, don’t be so harsh on Karen! It’s normal for her to be a bit reserved at first. You need to be more patient with her, just like you guided me in the beginning…” Those loaded words made Arthur’s face turn crimson. Just as I thought he was about to kiss Eve, he suddenly ushered her out of the private room. A wave of unease washed over me, and I wanted to leave too. But Arthur grabbed my hand: “Karen, I can’t wait any longer. Can we?” Sensing his unusual arousal, I angrily picked up the iced soda from the table and dumped it right over his head. To my surprise, he just chuckled playfully: “Karen, are you shy? Or, are you jealous?”

“And you know what? You’re actually pretty cute when you’re jealous!” I couldn’t take it anymore. I raised my hand and slapped him. “Jealous? Hell no! I must have been out of my mind to ever fall for a disgusting jerk like you! You’re trash! We’re done!” Arthur covered his rapidly reddening, swollen face, but instead of anger, his eyes filled with excitement: “That’s a strong slap. Even better than Eve’s! It really gets me going!” Hearing his vulgar words, my stomach churned. Seeing me keep dry heaving, Arthur stopped joking around and looked at me with concern: “Karen, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? I’ll take you to the hospital right away!” I pushed him away: “Get lost!” “Don’t touch me!” Only then did he understand that I was repulsed by him. He looked at me with a pained expression, his eyes turning red: “Karen, don’t you love me anymore?” “I’m willing to tell you all my secrets. Why don’t you believe me?” As if remembering something, he immediately booked an appointment at a hospital. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll go get a blood test right now! I guarantee I’m completely clean!” He actually thought that as long as he didn’t have an STD, he was “clean.” How ridiculous! I took a deep breath and told him, word for word: “Arthur, in my eyes, you are absolutely filthy!” He froze, his eyes wide, and swore to the heavens: “Eve is an innocent college girl, clean and obedient. I couldn’t possibly be dirty.” I quickly refunded the $3,200. “Whether you’re dirty or not, it has nothing to do with me anymore! You and I, we’re completely done from now on!” Seeing that I wouldn’t even take the money and was determined to break up with him, a sudden panic gripped him. He grabbed my arm and rushed out of the private room, telling Eve, who was waiting at the door, to come to the hospital with us. All the way there, he and Eve swore oaths together: “Karen, once the blood test results are out, you’ll know I wasn’t lying to you.” At the hospital, he frantically urged Eve to get her blood drawn with him. But unexpectedly, Eve fainted before she even got to the blood draw station. Arthur instinctively caught her in his arms and rushed her to the emergency room. Half an hour later, the doctor came out with the test results and congratulated him: “Sir, your girlfriend is pregnant. Congratulations, you’re going to be a father!” Arthur froze, looking at me with panic: “Karen, listen to me. The doctor must have made a mistake! I always used protection; there’s no way…” The doctor looked at him, then at me, and instantly understood that the story of the three of us wasn’t simple. She gave me a sympathetic glance before coldly addressing Arthur: “Mr. Arthur, a urine test can sometimes be inaccurate, but a blood test won’t lie.” Arthur’s lips trembled as he reached out to grab me. I raised my hand and slapped him across the other side of his face: “Scumbag!” “We’re done!” Arthur took the slap, lowering his head to apologize: “Karen, give me ten minutes. I’ll fix everything right now.” He took a deep breath, looked up, and asked the doctor to schedule an abortion, then walked into the emergency room. Moments later, I heard Eve’s cries from the room: “Arthur, I don’t want your money, no matter how much you give me…” How Arthur chose to deal with that child was no longer my concern. I picked up my bag and headed straight home. But unexpectedly, as soon as I lay down, the doorbell rang. “Karen, I want to keep this baby.” “Please… please don’t force me to have an abortion…”

Hearing Eve’s cries, I simply pretended I couldn’t hear. But she cried even louder, drawing the attention of the neighbors. And when they pressed her for answers, she shamelessly claimed I was her sister, forcing her to get an abortion. The unsuspecting neighbors immediately started banging wildly on my door for her. I was furious. I opened the door, ready to kick them out. Only to find her kneeling on the ground. “Karen, I truly love Arthur. Please don’t break us up, okay?” I pulled out my phone, intending to show the neighbors my photos with Arthur. But Eve, with no shame, directly showed them intimate photos of herself and Arthur. Compared to my tasteful photos with Arthur from various public events, Eve’s intimate shots were clearly more convincing. Most importantly, in the background of her photos, there was Arthur’s family picture. Anyone could see they were living together. The neighbors looked at me with disdain: “Stealing your sister’s man, are you shameless?” “What right do you have to force someone to abort their baby?” “We’re watching you today. Let’s see if you dare to act arrogant!” I couldn’t stand it anymore and called Arthur. He arrived quickly. Seeing Eve kneeling before me, his face immediately darkened. He rushed over, pulled her up, and cradled her in his arms, immediately checking her all over. When he saw her knees were red and swollen, he immediately started yelling at me: “Karen! You’ve gone too far!” “Why are you doing this to Eve?” The neighbors added fuel to the fire, exaggerating how I’d bullied Eve. My vision blurred with rage, but I forcefully held it in and coldly asked Arthur: “Tell everyone, before today, whose boyfriend were you?” Arthur’s gaze swept over the staring neighbors but lingered on my face, full of hesitation. But it didn’t stop him from speaking: “I am Eve’s boyfriend.” “You have no right to force her to abort our child.” At his words, Eve’s tear-filled eyes showed a hint of triumph and provocation. “Arthur, don’t blame her. I know she just loves you too much, and my kneeling wasn’t sincere enough…” Hearing Arthur’s direct admission, an angry neighbor went back inside and grabbed a tray of eggs, forcefully throwing them at me. The eggs shattered on my forehead, face, and clothes, making me feel nauseous from the stench. Eve quickly raised her hand to stop the others who were still condemning me: “Everyone, please don’t make things difficult for my sister. She has her own difficulties.” With that, she tugged on Arthur’s sleeve: “Let’s go inside and talk, Arthur. Don’t make things hard for my sister.” Arthur, without a word, scooped Eve up bridal style and pushed his way into my apartment. The neighbors wanted more drama, but Arthur apologized to the crowd: “It’s a family matter, and we appreciate your discretion!” Arthur discreetly handed some cash to a few of the louder ones, and the crowd quieted, though before leaving, several spat viciously in my direction. I looked up at the security camera overhead, for now swallowing all the bitterness. Inside, I ignored the two clinging to each other and went straight to wash the grime off my face. Then I pulled out my phone to call the police. Before I could speak, Arthur snatched my phone and smashed it on the floor: “Karen! Haven’t you caused enough embarrassment? Are you not ashamed?” “I told you I’d handle everything. Why are you forcing Eve?” I retorted with a sneer: “I’m forcing her?” He immediately pulled out his phone and showed me a screenshot of a message Eve had sent him. “You threatened to expose her dirty secrets, making her lose her college degree. How could you become so malicious?” I looked at the anonymous text and found it laughable. No wonder he arrived so quickly; it was Eve’s setup.

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