Author: Momo Chan

When I finally hauled our heavy, custom-framed wedding portrait up the three flights of stairs and into the apartment, my boyfriend of five years was wrapped around another woman. Sean was on the living room floor, his arms locked tight around his lead actress, Delilah, blocking an intimate scene for his upcoming indie feature. I hadn’t eaten all day. My vision was blurring at the edges, a dizzying wave of low blood sugar making my hands shake. “Sean, can you give me a hand?” I croaked, leaning the heavy frame against the wall. “I just need to sit down for a second.” He didn’t even look up. He pushed me back toward the hallway, his face tight with sharp, familiar irritation. “Do you mind? We’re in the middle of a run-through. You’re completely killing the energy here.” I apologized—I always apologized—and dragged the heavy portrait into our small guest room. To keep from disturbing his creative process, I retreated to the master bathroom and quietly made myself a bowl of instant chesse and mac, using lukewarm water from the tap because I was too tired to wait for the kettle to boil. The door burst open. “That chesse and mac smells disgusting,” Sean snapped, snatching the bowl out of my hands and dumping it straight into the sink. “We’re building a high-art aesthetic for this film. I won’t have the place smelling like cheap sodium.” He didn’t even look back as he issued his next command. “Go make some French. I’m hosting a dinner for the lead cast tonight.” “Groceries for a decent French dinner will cost at least a few hundred dollars…” I murmured, my stomach hollow and aching. “Must you always be so incredibly vulgar?” he sighed, rubbing his temples. “Everything is money, money, money with you.” I let out a bitter, silent laugh. Without my vulgar money, how else was he supposed to finance his brilliant director’s dream? I looked over at the massive wedding portrait tucked in the dusty corner of our room. Suddenly, the shape of my entire life felt utterly meaningless. Maybe he was the brilliant auteur of the future, but I was done playing the martyr. If I was too cheap for his taste, then maybe we didn’t need to get married after all. 1 I stood up and grabbed my purse. No one in that room cared that I’d worked a ten-hour day. No one asked if I needed help carrying the groceries, let alone offered me a glass of water. If they didn’t care, why was I still running myself ragged for them? I walked out the door, deciding to go back to the office to finish up a project proposal. As soon as I stepped out, my phone buzzed. It was a text from our landlord. Rent was due: $3,000 for our downtown loft. I took a screenshot of the notice and texted it to Sean. Less than three minutes later, his reply came back: ‘Just pay it. You don’t need to tell me every time.’ Followed immediately by: ‘It’s getting late. Don’t bother cooking. Just order takeout from that bistro on Jefferson Boulevard. Delilah loves their truffle pasta.’ A quiet, sharp ache bloomed in my chest. He knew exactly what Delilah liked to eat down to her favorite herbs. But could he name a single thing I loved? I opened my chat with the landlord and typed: ‘We won’t be renewing the lease. I’ll have our things cleared out by the end of the month.’ For five years, because Sean insisted that a confined space stifled his artistic soul, we had lived in this luxury high-rise. The $3,000 monthly rent was a noose around my neck, forcing me into endless, grueling overtime. Whenever I suggested downsizing, he’d accuse me of being small-minded and commercial. My phone vibrated again. The landlord: ‘You have exactly twenty days left. No extensions, or I’m keeping the security deposit.’ ‘Understood,’ I replied. I was barely done typing when another notification popped up. A joint-account alert from my bank. ‘Authorized User Sean: Purchase of $1,200 at Bistro on Jefferson.’ My heart seized. That wasn’t rent money. That was the emergency fund I’d spent months scraping together for my mother’s upcoming oncology appointment. I dialed his number. It rang and rang, eventually cutting to voicemail. I called a cab to head back home, dialing the restaurant on the way. “Hi, I’m calling to cancel the order for the account ending in 3320. It was an unauthorized charge on a card linked to my mother’s medical fund…” “I’m so sorry, ma’am, but the order has already left the kitchen. We can’t issue a refund at this point.” I slumped against the cold window of the cab, my temples throbbing with a dull, persistent pain. “Delilah, you’re going to be a star,” Sean was saying when I walked through the door, raising a glass of red wine. “I believe in you.” “And you’re going to be the next great auteur,” Delilah cooed, clinking her glass against his—the very glass I had custom-etched with our wedding date. The click of the front door broke the spell. Sean’s brow furrowed. “Way to ruin the mood, Valerie.” I gripped my purse strap so hard my knuckles turned white. “The money you just charged to my card…” “Valerie, you must be starving,” Delilah cut in with a sweet, patronizing smile. “We saved you some of the lemon-herb salmon. Why don’t you take it to the bedroom and eat?” I looked past her, straight at Sean. “Why did you use that card? I unlinked it from your account last week.” “What does it matter whose card it is?” he said dismissively. “I grabbed your phone the other day and relinked it. It’s not a big deal.” “It is a big deal! That money was for my mother’s doctor! I don’t have anything else!” He set his wine glass down with a heavy click. “It was barely twelve hundred dollars. Do you really have to use your mother’s health to guilt-trip me? Delilah’s right, Valerie. You’re completely obsessed with money.” Sean reached into his coat pocket, pulled out a matte black credit card, and tossed it onto the console table. “Here. Use this and stop nagging me.” His careless words felt like a physical blow. Obsessed with money. For five years, I had paid for his cameras, his film stock, his coffee, his dinners—and it all boiled down to me being obsessed. But looking at the card, I swallowed my pride. Sean had recently won a small $15,000 prize at an indie documentary festival. That money would be more than enough to cover my mother’s hospital deposit. I picked up the card and walked to the bedroom without another word. 2 I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the plastic card in my hand. Over the last five years, I had poured far more than fifteen thousand dollars into his life. Taking this felt less like a favor and more like a long-overdue debt collection. Sean pushed the bedroom door open, carrying the plate of salmon. “I left this for you.” “I’m allergic to fish, Sean. I have been since we met.” He stared at me blankly for a second, then set the plate down. “Oh.” He clicked the door shut behind him, plunging the room into darkness. I lay down on the ceiling, staring at the ceiling, calculating the time I would need to pack up my life over the next few days. I fell asleep to the distant sound of their laughter through the drywall. The next morning, my foot hit an empty wine bottle the moment I stepped out of the bedroom. The apartment smelled like stale alcohol and rotting takeout. The door to the guest room was wide open. Sean was dead to the world on the bed, and from the master bathroom, Delilah emerged, casually twisting her hair into a clip. “Clean up the living room, will you?” she said, looking at me like I was the hired help. “And I’ll need a low-carb breakfast bowl when you’re done.” In the past, I would have screamed. I would have demanded to know if they had slept together. But looking at her now, I felt absolutely nothing. I picked up the bottle, set it on the counter, and walked out the door to meet my mother at the clinic. My mother, Helen, was already waiting in the lobby, holding a paper bag with a breakfast sandwich she’d bought for me. “You’re working so hard, sweetie,” she said, smoothing my hair. “I could have managed this on my own.” “It’s fine, Mom,” I said, leaning my head against her shoulder. “We can afford whatever treatment you need. I have the money Sean gave me.” The waiting room of the oncology unit felt like a sterile, timeless void. When the doctor finally called us in, his face was grave but encouraging. “Stage II breast cancer. It’s highly treatable, but we need to admit her and schedule surgery immediately. The initial deposit is two thousand dollars.” I let out a breath of relief. “I can pay that right now.” I handed the black card to the receptionist. “Declined.” “Try one thousand,” I said, my chest tightening. “Declined.” “Five hundred?” “Still declined, ma’am.” The receptionist’s patience was wearing thin. “Is there another card? This one only has about twenty dollars on it.” My stomach dropped. “That’s impossible. There should be at least fifteen thousand.” The family behind me in line started shifting restlessly. “Can you step aside if you can’t pay? We’ve been waiting an hour.” I took the card back, my hands shaking, and stepped out of the queue. It had to be a mistake. I pulled out my phone and typed a message: ‘Sean, did you give me the wrong card? I’m at the hospital with my mom. I need the money for her deposit.’ I hit send. A red exclamation mark popped up next to the bubble. Blocked. He had blocked me. I tried calling. It went straight to voicemail. Then my phone buzzed with an Instagram notification: Delilah’s Story. It was a photo of Sean and Delilah sitting on a grassy hill, looking up at the sky. He was looking at her with a soft, adoring expression I hadn’t seen directed at me in years. The caption read: ‘Finding magic in the quiet moments with my favorite director.’ The comments were filled with hearts. ‘They look so perfect together!’ ‘Power couple!’ I zoomed in on the photo. Sean’s phone was sitting right next to his leg on the grass. He wasn’t busy. He was just ignoring me. I scrolled through my contacts and found the event coordinator for our wedding venue. “Hi, Sandra. I need to cancel the reservation for next month.” “Valerie? If you cancel now, you’ll lose the entire deposit.” “That’s fine. My mother is sick. I need whatever refund I can get.” “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’ll process the partial refund right away.” I had pulled eighty-hour work weeks for six months straight to save up for that venue deposit. But as I watched the confirmation email land in my inbox, my only feeling was a profound, quiet relief. I went back to the apartment to pack my things, planning to take a leave of absence from work to stay at the hospital. I was halfway through packing when Sean walked through the door, casually eating a cup of instant noodles. 3 I ignored him, continuing to fold my clothes into the suitcase. “You didn’t clean up this morning,” he said, leaning against the doorframe. “I had to make my own lunch.” Then he noticed the open luggage. “Are you going somewhere?” “…” “Valerie? We’re supposed to sign the marriage license next week.” “…” “And we still have to do the menu tasting. Delilah is really picky about seafood, so we need to bring her along to approve the appetizers.” I zipped my suitcase shut with a sharp click. “There is no wedding, Sean. And there’s no tasting.” I pulled the black card from my purse and threw it onto the bed. “Here’s your card back.” He frowned, looking genuinely confused. “You can keep it. What’s mine is yours.” I let out a dry, humorless laugh. “Keep a card that has twenty dollars on it?” His eyes flickered. “You tried to run it? Oh… Delilah told me I should test you. She said you were only with me for the money.” “And what money would that be, Sean? The fifteen-thousand-dollar prize that you told me would be our wedding fund?” He looked away, shifting his weight. “I’ll make it up to you on the next project.” I looked at him—at the man who was hiding like a child beneath his defense mechanisms. “Where is the money, Sean?” “Delilah needed a Chanel bag for an audition press line,” he mumbled, staring at his shoes. “It was an emergency.” An emergency. My mother was lying in a hospital bed, and he had spent our survival fund on a designer purse for another woman. “My mother has breast cancer, Sean. She’s in the hospital right now because I couldn’t pay her deposit.” He sat up, his expression hardening into cold disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d sink this low, Valerie. Faking your mother’s illness just to make me feel guilty?” A hysterical laugh escaped my throat. I pulled out a silk handkerchief he had given me years ago and wiped a stray tear from my face, then tossed it into the trash can. “We’re done,” I said. He chased me out to the hallway, barefoot. “You’re trying to manipulate me with a breakup? Fine! Go! But don’t you dare come crawling back when you regret this!” The elevator doors slid shut, cutting off his voice, and for the first time in five years, I felt like I could breathe. Over the next fifteen days, I lived in the hospital, sleeping on a plastic chair beside my mother’s bed. The financial strain was suffocating. My company, learning of my situation, had advanced me $5,000, which, combined with the wedding venue refund, covered the immediate costs. But the doctor recommended an aggressive immunotherapy treatment that wasn’t fully covered by insurance. It would cost tens of thousands more. One afternoon, while I was sitting in the hospital courtyard trying to figure out how to take out a personal loan, I heard two young women talking nearby. “They’re so gorgeous together. I’ve been following Delilah’s blog since they started out.” “I know! And the fact that she wrote the script and he directed it? It’s literally the most romantic thing ever.” I froze. I stood up and walked over to them. “Excuse me. What script are you talking about?” They looked at me, startled by my intensity. “The film is called The Lover. It just won the Grand Jury Prize for Best Screenplay. Delilah’s the writer, and Sean Dixon is the director.” I stumbled backward, the ground shifting beneath my feet. The Lover. That was my story. It was a novella I had spent three years writing in the quiet hours of the night. When I had first shown it to Sean, he had sneered at it, calling it “pedestrian” and “sentimental garbage.” I had locked it away in a drawer, believing him. And now, he had stolen it, branded it as Delilah’s masterpiece, and used it to launch their careers. 4 I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking so violently I could barely type. The headlines were everywhere: ‘Newcomer Delilah Wins Best Screenplay for Indie Hit “The Lover”.’ ‘A Five-Year Love Story: Sean Dixon and Delilah on Art, Devotion, and Their Upcoming Wedding.’ The article quoted an interview from three days ago. “We’re using the eighty-thousand-dollar adaptation advance to fund our destination wedding,” Delilah had told the reporter with a glowing smile. They were building a life on my blood and sweat while I sat in a hospital lobby trying to figure out how to save my mother. I drove straight to our old apartment complex. As I pulled up, I saw them walking out of the lobby together. Sean’s eyes lit up when he saw me. “Valerie? You finally ready to swallow your pride?” Delilah sneered, wrapping her arm around his. “Did you hear about the award, Valerie? Came back to beg for a handout?” I ignored her and looked straight at Sean. “Why?” “Why what?” he asked, his brow furrowing. “My story. The Lover. Why did you give it to her?” He took a step toward me, his voice dropping into a hushed, pleading tone. “You don’t understand. Delilah needed a breakthrough. She needed to be seen. Once I win the Best New Director award, you can quit your job and stay home. I’ll take care of you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” I pushed his hand away. “And what about the eighty thousand dollars in royalties? Was that for her breakthrough too?” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Why is it always about money with you? We need that capital to produce the feature-length version. Veritas Studios is interested, but we have to show proof of funding.” I slapped him. The crack of my hand against his cheek echoed in the quiet street. “You liar!” Delilah shrieked, pushing me back. “Are you insane? You’re just jealous because he chose me!” Before I could respond, a group of local paparazzi and lifestyle bloggers—who had clearly been tipped off by Delilah—emerged from the parking garage with cameras flashing. “Mr. Dixon! Is this the ex-girlfriend?” “Are the rumors true that she’s trying to extort you for a settlement?” I tried to speak, my voice drowned out by the barrage of questions. I looked at Sean, waiting for him to tell the truth. But he just looked at the cameras, then reached down and took Delilah’s hand. “Delilah has always been my only muse,” he said clearly. “My only girlfriend.” The crowd surged forward, shoving microphones into my face. I stumbled, tripping over the curb and falling hard onto the asphalt. “Are you a gold digger, ma’am?” “Did you break up with him because he was a struggling artist, and now you want a piece of his success?” “No,” I whispered, trying to shield my face from the blinding flashes. “I was with him for five years…” Suddenly, a sharp, authoritative car horn cut through the chaos. A sleek black town car pulled up to the curb. The door opened, and a tall man in a tailored suit stepped out. “Step back,” he said, his voice quiet but commanding. “Any further questions regarding Miss Ward will be handled by Veritas Studios’ legal team.” I looked up. It was Adrian Cross. My boss.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “MotoNovel” app 🔍 search for “544683”, and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel

My brother was destined to be the tragic casualty of a bestseller romance. In the grand narrative of life, every golden couple needs a stepping stone—someone whose heart is destined to be shattered, whose life is meant to be ruined, just to prove how insurmountable their love is. In our world, that stepping stone was my older brother, Colby. According to the script, Dale, the beautiful, delicate heroine, would use him as a pawn to make her billionaire husband, Will, jealous. And once his purpose was served, Will would have him discarded like trash, his life ending in the cold depths of the Atlantic. To prevent that tragic end, I had been bound to a System since the day I took my first breath. My infant mind was hardwired with one singular, exhausting mission: keep Colby Kemp alive. Whenever he tried to slip out for a date with Dale during our childhood, I would make sure to ruin his pristine designer suits by wetting myself right on his shoulder. When he spent hours pouring his soul into handwritten love letters, my chubby toddler hands would tear them to shreds while I beamed up at him, entirely innocent. For eighteen years, I ran him ragged. I kept him so deeply buried under the chaotic demands of raising a high-maintenance little sister that he barely had the time or energy to notice the star-crossed lovers playing out their drama in the background. But then, my college acceptance letter arrived. That evening, Colby called me into his quiet, wood-paneled study. The scent of old paper and expensive cologne hung heavy in the air. “You’re an adult now, Maisie,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of the warmth I had spent a lifetime coaxing out of him. “My obligation to raise you is complete. It’s time for me to go and live my own life.” In my head, the System’s robotic voice flared to life, sending a cold shiver down my spine. [Warning. Target’s danger index has reached 100%. He has acquired military-grade explosives. He plans to strap them to his chest and gatecrash Dale and Will’s tenth wedding anniversary party tomorrow. He intends to end it all.] I didn’t panic. Instead, I simply nodded, smiled, and went to make a phone call. The next morning, I marched right back into Colby’s study, dragging a bleached-blonde punk by the hand. I leaned heavily against Ryder’s leather-jacketed shoulder. He was covered in tattoos, smelled faintly of cheap cigarettes, and looked like he had never held a real job in his life. I held a giant, dollar-store plastic cup of sugary lemonade in my left hand, and a forged ultrasound printout in my right. I looked up at Ryder with an expression of pure, unadulterated adoration. “Colby,” I said, my voice dripping with saccharine sweet devotion. “He’s not just some deadbeat. He promised me that as soon as he customizes his new street bike, we’re going to take over the family business together.” I turned my starry-eyed gaze back to Colby, whose face was already beginning to twitch. “So, why don’t you just sign over your company shares to him? Once that’s done, you can go off and do whatever it is you need to do. Don’t worry about us.” Colby’s face twisted in sheer, unvarnished horror. He stared at the ultrasound slip, then at Ryder’s smug, pierced face, and finally at me. With a muffled curse, he ripped a heavy canvas vest from beneath his desk and hurled it onto the Persian rug. The metal canisters clattered against the wood floor—the explosives. He didn’t care about them anymore. He lunged forward, grabbed me by the ear, and hauled me away from Ryder. “My plans can wait,” Colby growled, his chest heaving as he stared me down. “Today, I’m dealing with you!” … “Ouch! Let go, let go!” I pried his fingers off my ear, rubbing the stinging skin as I took a hasty step back. “Colby, you’re the one who said I’m an adult now! You can’t just treat me like a child anymore!” I protested, pouting. Then, I turned back to Ryder, casting him a dramatic, lingering look before lowering my gaze in mock embarrassment. “Besides, the love of my life is standing right here. Do you mind giving me some dignity?” Colby’s face flushed a deep, dangerous crimson. I could practically see the steam rising from his collar. “You’re eighteen! What the hell do you know about love?” He snatched a broom from Lawrence, our terrified housekeeper who had been trying to sweep the hallway, and brandished it like a weapon. In my mind, the System’s voice chimed, sounding remarkably impressed. [Host, his danger index has just dropped from 100% to 90%. It actually worked!] I felt a surge of smug satisfaction. Of course it worked. Our mother had passed away from complications during my birth. Colby had been both father and mother to me, sacrificing his youth to raise me. If he could sit back and watch his precious little sister get whisked away by a tattooed punk on a loud motorcycle without losing his mind, he wouldn’t be Colby Kemp. I darted around the mahogany coffee table, keeping it between us as I sniffled theatrically. “You’re willing to throw away your entire life and the family business just for Dale!” I cried. “Well, I feel the exact same way about my baby! I would betray the entire world for him. Who are you to tell me I don’t understand love?” Colby froze, his knuckles whitening around the broom handle. Before he could speak, his phone on the table began to buzz. The screen lit up with Dale’s name. He stared at it for a second before hitting speakerphone. “Colby,” Dale’s soft, fragile voice echoed through the room. “I actually thought you might try to ruin our anniversary today. I’m glad to see you finally have some self-respect.” She let out a soft, delicate sigh that sounded entirely practiced. “I know how much you’ve done for me over the years. But honestly, with that little sister of yours clinging to you like a parasite, it was never going to work between us. If I had chosen you back then, she would have spent her whole life competing with me for your attention.” She paused, her tone turning effortlessly condescending. “But I suppose I can still offer you a chance to be helpful. Will and I want a private weekend away. You can watch our kids for us today. I’ll have the driver drop them off.” The silence in the room grew heavy, suffocating. Colby’s jaw clenched so hard I feared his teeth might crack. He stared at the phone, his breathing shallow, yet he couldn’t bring himself to utter a single word. Dale had always played the part of the fragile, helpless heroine in front of Will. It was only because of Colby’s unconditional, obsessive devotion that she felt comfortable treating him like a convenient doormat. The System’s alarm blared in my head. [Warning! Target’s danger index is surging back up! Take immediate action. If he attempts to harm the main characters, the fabric of this world will collapse, and you will be erased.] I shot Ryder a sharp, desperate look. He caught on instantly. Stepping forward, he slapped the broom out of Colby’s hand, letting it clatter to the floor, and stood protectively in front of me. He glared at Colby with a look of pure, theatrical defiance. “My girl is the undisputed Queen of the Emo Scene,” Ryder declared, puffing out his chest. “If someone crosses her, I break them. If she’s hungry, I feed her. What right does an old man like you have to disrespect my queen?” He turned to me, his expression softening into something absurdly dramatic. “You remember that, my dark princess?” I squeezed out a tear, throwing myself into his arms. “Colby doesn’t love me anymore. I don’t care about him either. If you want to ride your street bike over his grave someday, I won’t stop you.” Colby closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he fought to keep his composure. “Colby? You wanted to join our world so badly, don’t ignore this opportunity,” Dale’s voice piped up from the phone, sharp and demanding. “Can you be here in ten minutes?” Colby ground his teeth, reached down, and abruptly disconnected the call. “I am currently being driven to an early grave by my own sister,” he snarled into the empty room, throwing the phone onto the sofa. He poured himself a glass of ice water, draining it in one go to steady his breathing. He pointed a finger at me. “Are you really pregnant?” “If I tell you the truth, will you make me get rid of it?” I countered, playing the stubborn teenager. I couldn’t back down too easily; if I seemed entirely unreasonable, he might just give up on me and return to his self-destructive obsession with Dale. After all, his love-sick second-lead settings were deeply ingrained. “Why do you hate him so much?” I asked. Colby looked at me as if I had lost my mind. “Because he can’t give you a life, Maisie. If I wanted you to end up with a deadbeat, I wouldn’t have spent a fortune protecting you from the real world. I could have just thrown you in the slums.” “But Dale hasn’t given you a life either,” I pointed out, leaning on the formulas I’d memorized from the original plotline. “To make her smile, you spent three hundred million dollars bidding on that diamond necklace, nearly bankrupting our firm. And what did she do? She wore it to her wedding with Will.” I pointed out the window toward the yard where a golden retriever was barking at a butterfly. “And Rusty out there—he’s bitten me three times, but you refuse to rehome him just because Dale gave him to you. Your logic doesn’t hold up, Colby. You’re just jealous because Ryder and I are actually happy.” Ryder looked at me, his eyes practically sparkling. “You are so deep. From this day on, I crown you my Muse of Wisdom.” He actually dropped to one knee on the rug, dramatically belt-singing an old 80s rock ballad about surrender. Between his off-key singing and the dog barking outside, the house was a chaotic circus. Colby pinched the bridge of his nose, looking utterly defeated. “Lawrence,” he called out, his voice exhausted. “Give Rusty back to Dale. I don’t want him in my yard anymore.” He pointed toward the front door. “And now, tell your boyfriend to get out of my house.” The System flashed a green notification. [Danger index is dropping. Keep going, Host!] It was a start. I knew the classic rule of negotiation: push hard, then give a little space. “Go home for now, babe,” I whispered to Ryder, patting his arm. “I’ll sneak out to see you tomorrow.” After ushering Ryder out, I hoped to finally catch my breath. But before I could even sit down, our security guard hurried into the room, looking pale and hesitant. “Mr. Kemp… Ms. Dale is outside. She says she needs to see you immediately.” Colby stiffened, his gaze flying to the door. “What?” He caught me watching him and quickly cleared his throat, trying to mask his sudden tension as he sat back down. I sighed. “Just let her in.” There was no point in blocking her; his mind was already drifting toward her anyway. Better to keep her where I could see her, so I could manage whatever crisis she was about to throw at us. Dale burst through the doors, her face streaked with tears. Without a word of warning, she threw herself directly into Colby’s arms. Colby went entirely rigid. “Colby, Will was so cruel to me,” she sobbed against his chest. “We were supposed to have our anniversary dinner, but he abandoned me at the restaurant just to take a business call. I feel so empty… I didn’t know where else to go.” The anger in Colby’s eyes melted into a look of profound, familiar pain. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, his hand hovering over her hair before gently patting it. His expression darkened. “I’ll make sure anyone who hurts you regrets it.” Inside my head, the System began to screech. [Warning! Target is contemplating financial retaliation against the male lead! Host, do something!] I stepped forward, offering Dale a fresh handkerchief and a calm smile. “Dale, why don’t you stay here tonight? My brother is wonderful at taking care of people.” This was her usual pattern. Every time she had a minor argument with Will, she would run to Colby to cry. Colby would then retaliate by sabotaging Will’s business ventures to defend her honor, only for Dale to turn around and accuse Colby of trying to ruin her marriage. Colby looked up, a faint spark of hope in his eyes. But Dale, true to form, instantly recoiled, slapping the handkerchief out of my hand. “Who asked for your input?” she spat, her tear-stained face twisting into something ugly. “Will is the heir to a multi-billion-dollar empire. I know exactly what girls like you are thinking—you’re just waiting for us to get a divorce so you can try and climb your way into high society, aren’t you?” She stared at me, her eyes flashing with a sudden, vicious jealousy. She raised her hand high. “A motherless brat with no manners. I think it’s time someone taught you some respect!” I braced myself, closing my eyes as her hand came down. But the blow never landed. When I opened my eyes, Colby was standing in front of me, his tall frame shielding me completely. He took the force of the slap. A bright, angry red mark began to bloom across his cheek. He frowned, his voice remarkably quiet. “Dale, I know you’re upset. But Maisie is my sister. Please treat her with respect.” Even after eighteen years in this world, his boundless tolerance for this woman still shocked me. I quietly reached into my pocket and fired off a text message to Ryder. Even with Colby’s submission, Dale wasn’t satisfied. “You’re defending another woman over me?” she gasped, taking a step back. “Fine! I won’t stay here. Enjoy the silence when I’m gone!” She turned to run out, and Colby’s face immediately tightened with panic. [Host! Danger level is at 99%! He’s thinking about locking her in the house to keep her safe!] I calmly pulled out my phone, dialing Ryder on speaker, using my most breathy, helpless voice. “Babe, where are you? Colby is going out tonight. Can you take me to get that tattoo? I want your name across my ribs. You’re my whole world now.” Colby’s steps halted. “That old man is finally out of the way?” Ryder’s voice boomed through the speaker. “I’m right outside, baby. I’m coming to get you.” The deafening roar of a modified engine shattered the quiet of our driveway. Ryder rode his loud, obnoxious street bike right over the manicured lawn, crushing a bed of white orchids—Dale’s absolute favorite flowers, which Colby had spent years cultivating. He pulled up to the porch, killed the engine, and gave me a sharp, crooked grin. “You don’t have to walk on eggshells around him anymore, baby. I’m here.” I bypassed Colby entirely, hopping onto the back of Ryder’s bike and wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. “Since you won’t let Dale leave, Colby, I won’t keep Ryder away either,” I said, leaning my chin on Ryder’s shoulder. “Go be with her. I’ll just stay at the warehouse with Ryder and his crew tonight. There are about twelve of them living there, so I’ll feel totally safe.” Inside my mind, the System let out a breath of relief. [Host, his mind is literally blank right now. The dark thoughts have stalled.] Dale had stopped near the gate, clearly expecting Colby to chase after her and beg for forgiveness as he always did. But when she turned around, she saw him standing on the porch, his face grim, his eyes locked entirely on me and the boy on the motorcycle. He wasn’t even looking at her. “Colby!” she screamed, her voice cracking. “I’m really leaving this time! I mean it!” Colby waved a hand dismissively without shifting his gaze. “Then leave. I’m trying to deal with my sister.” Realizing she was being ignored, Dale’s composure shattered completely. She marched over to the motorcycle, glaring at me with venom. “First you try to get close to my husband, and now you’re playing these pathetic games with Colby? Do you enjoy having men fight over you?” I blinked, genuinely baffled by her leaps of logic. “Ma’am, Colby is my biological brother.” “Don’t call me ma’am! Are you calling me old?” she shrieked, lunging forward and grabbing my denim jacket, her long, manicured nails scratching at my arm. Before she could pull me down, Ryder shoved her away, sending her stumbling onto the grass. “Dale!” Colby took a step forward, his brow furrowing. “Security, get this guy off my property!” “Don’t you dare touch me!” Ryder yelled back, pointing a finger at Colby. “You call yourself a brother? If you can’t protect her, I will. My girl, my rules.” He revved the engine, preparing to pull away. “But you tell your little friend here to watch herself. If she hurts my girl, I’ll tear this whole place apart.” I cheered, raising my hands in the air. “You’re the best, babe! So much cooler than my brother!” I looked down at the red scratch on my arm and sighed. “I get hurt and he just stands there. I’m staying with you forever.” Colby stood by the pillar, his eyes closed, rubbing his temples in sheer exhaustion. “Lawrence… please escort Dale out.” Dale let out a sharp, bitter laugh from the lawn. “You protect her? Colby, she’s probably praying for your demise right now.” She reached into her designer bag, pulling out a handful of printed papers and throwing them onto the grass. “I knew something was off when you refused to watch my kids. I had my people look into her. These are her actual chat logs with her boyfriend.” Colby slowly walked down the steps and picked up the papers. His expression went entirely blank. He walked over to the motorcycle, holding the sheets up to me. “Did you write this?” I looked down. It was a screenshot of a text message I had sent Ryder: [The second my brother’s stupid plans go sideways, you and I are going straight to the family lawyers to claim the estate. We’ll turn his corporate offices into a motorcycle custom shop.] I had no defense. I had actually sent that. But Ryder and I were just playing roles; we were literally rehearsing our script to keep Colby on his toes. Dale crossed her arms, a triumphant smirk returning to her face. “Silent? So it’s true.” She turned to Colby, her voice dropping into that soft, manipulative purr. “Colby, I’ll give you a choice. You can come back to me and prove you still care… or you can keep protecting this ungrateful child. But if you choose her, you will never see me again.” My chest tightened. Nobody knew better than I did how much Colby had sacrificed for this woman. If he chose her now, if he fell back into that toxic loop, our world would end. Colby’s hands clenched into fists, then slowly relaxed. He looked up, his eyes steady as he looked at Dale. He opened his mouth to speak.

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In the second year of my marriage to the mafia boss, I ran into Ethan Vance again. It was on the exact same tropical island. He had just spent millions to buy a luxury resort hotel as a gift for his wife. The moment his eyes fell on me, his entire face froze. “Summer… about what happened back then, I had no choice.” “You know that if I hadn’t saved Serena first, she would have died…” He was talking about that day. The day when we were held at gunpoint, and the kidnappers forced him to choose between me and my stepsister, Serena. Without a single second of hesitation, he chose Serena. And I was left behind, dragged away by those monsters to be tortured and ruined. I offered him a faint, bloodless smile. “It’s all in the past.” I turned to leave, but he grabbed my wrist, his eyes instantly turning bloodshot. “Did those men… did they hurt you? Summer, I’m so sorry. I swear I don’t care about your past. I want to take care of you again…” I yanked my hand back and casually flicked my left hand, letting the massive blue sapphire ring on my ring finger catch the sunlight. “You’re overthinking it, Ethan. My husband and I are doing amazing.”

Ethan froze. The pity in his eyes only deepened. “Summer, you don’t have to act strong in front of me.” “The media covered everything back then. They took photos of you… being degraded like that. I know you suffered from severe depression afterward.” His eyes Rimmed with red, his lips trembling slightly. “It’s my fault. For the past two years, I was so focused on taking care of Serena that I couldn’t find you in time—” “But it’s not too late!” “If you don’t mind, I can set you up in a place. I’ll take care of you, just like I take care of Serena…” Serena. The very same stepsister who had mixed my mother’s ashes into baking flour to make a pizza. A mocking smile touched my lips. “No, thank you. I’m doing perfectly fine.” Realizing how awkward the silence had become after three years apart, Ethan desperately tried to find something else to say. Right then, the chef at the small Italian bistro called my number. I walked inside, picked up my plate of rustic spaghetti pomodoro, and sat at an outdoor table to eat. Even after all these years, this was still my favorite comfort food. Simply because the chef here made this pasta taste exactly like the one my mother used to make for me. Maybe the chef added a bit too much black pepper today. It burned my throat, making tears well up in my eyes. “Summer—” Ethan called out. I realized he hadn’t left. He was standing there like a statue, staring at me. He stepped closer, his gaze falling onto my cheap plate. The pity in his eyes was practically overflowing now. “You’re eating at a cheap diner like this?” He scanned my casual clothes, and I instantly realized what he was thinking. He thought I was living in poverty. “I’m so sorry. I should have never betrayed you back then.” His voice was thick with guilt. “But regret won’t change the past… I know you’ve had a miserable couple of years. Let me take responsibility for you. Come back to New York with me, okay?” Ethan reached out excitedly to grab my hand again. I stiffened and pulled back. “No. You know Serena and I are mortal enemies. We can never live under the same roof.” Ethan froze, his hand hanging awkwardly in the air. He knew better than anyone the deep, blood-stained hatred between Serena and me. If Victoria and Serena hadn’t forced their way into our lives, my mother wouldn’t have died in that staged car crash. If Serena hadn’t framed me over and over again, my father would have never kicked me out of the family. Even now, I still had ugly, jagged scars on my back. Those were from the broken glass shards Serena had intentionally hidden inside my bedsheets. “Summer, I…” Before he could finish, his phone buzzed. Serena’s whiny, sweet voice echoed from the speaker. “Babe, where are you? Did you finish buying that pearl boutique for me yet?” “My boat is landing in five minutes. Come pick me up.” Ethan hung up, looking at me with a conflicted expression. Before leaving, he shoved a sleek black business card into my hand. “Summer, I’m the one who failed you three years ago.” “If you change your mind, call me. I have a private penthouse in the suburbs. I can keep you there—” “Serena will never find out.” Before I could even speak, he hurried away. How hilarious. Was he trying to make me his secret mistress? Offering to make Julian Mercer’s woman a side-chick… Ethan must have a death wish. I shook my head, tossed the card into a nearby trash can, and went back to my pasta. Leo, the bistro owner, walked out, wiping his hands on his apron with a warm smile. “Mrs. Mercer, did you know that young man?” I smiled, trying to think of a casual answer. Leo leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You should stay away from him, ma’am. I saw it when he turned around—he has ‘The Pit’ brand on his neck.” “You know what that means? He started as a slave. Anyone who survives that place is ruthless to the bone.” I set my fork down and looked down, letting out a soft laugh. “I know.” “He was actually my personal slave for five years.” I had saved his life more times than I could count. He had sworn to love me forever, promising he would give his very life for me. Yet, when forced to choose, he chose my mother’s murderer without a second thought. The slave who left me to the kidnappers.

Leo’s curiosity was instantly piqued. Abandoning his kitchen, he pulled up a wooden stool and sat down to chat. “Mrs. Mercer, you were only eighteen five years ago, right? How did you have the guts to go into ‘The Pit’?” “That’s the most notorious, terrifying underground market in New York. How were you not scared to death at such a young age?” Of course I was terrified. But back then, I had no other choice. Five years ago, to find the truth behind my mother’s death, I snuck into the black market. I heard that fifty thousand dollars could buy a solid lead. Anything deeper would cost much more. I wanted to investigate if the car crash—the scene of which my father had rushed to clean up—was premeditated murder. I didn’t find the lead, but I found Ethan. Back then, he was just an unwanted orphan. A bruised, battered little slave being pushed around. The heavy iron chains around his ankles had rubbed his skin raw, leaving bloody rings. Wealthy buyers stood around, laughing hysterically as they watched him fight three wild, starving dogs to the death. He was covered in horrific bite marks, but his eyes still gleamed like a feral wolf. That look hooked me instantly. I spent a hundred thousand dollars that day to buy him. The trafficker took the cash and tossed the heavy chain into my hands. “He’s wild and vicious, girl. Keep him chained for a few months, or he’ll rip your throat out.” Once we got out of “The Pit,” Ethan glared at me, tense and guarded. Seeing the raw terror and defensiveness in his eyes made my heart ache. It reminded me of my own miserable situation. I reached down and unlocked his chains. “What’s your name?” “Eth… Ethan,” he rasped, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Master.” “Don’t call me master. I’m Summer Sterling.” I tossed him a sandwich. “From now on, you follow me. I’ll keep you alive, and I’ll make sure you live like a human being.” He devoured the food, the wild guard in his eyes slowly melting into a bright, devoted light. Over the next three years, I bought him Rolexes. I sent him to Ivy League business schools. I even handed him half of the real estate properties my grandfather had left me to manage. Just like in those cliché romance novels. We fell in love. I watched him reveal a terrifying genius for business. Every investment he touched multiplied tenfold. My assets grew rapidly, and new branch companies opened one after another. By day, we were the ultimate power couple in the business world. By night, he turned into a hungry wolf, devouring me with fierce passion. Countless times, he would hold me so tight it hurt, whispering in my ear: “Summer, once I build my empire, I’m going to marry you in the grandest wedding New York has ever seen.” I believed him. Until the day the kidnappers threw me into that abandoned warehouse, pressing a cold barrel against my temple. They demanded ten million dollars from Ethan to release me. Ethan arrived, pale and panicked, carrying a duffel bag of cash. “Let her go!” he roared. The kidnapper laughed, pointing to the corner where a shivering Serena sat. She was wearing a white dress identical to mine, her face stained with tears. “Ethan, please, save me…” she sobbed. “Mr. Vance, you can only take one,” the kidnapper sneered, patting my cheek. “Choose your girlfriend, and we’ll send this pretty little stepsister of hers straight to ‘The Pit’. The beasts over there love innocent girls like her.” “But if you choose Serena, your girlfriend stays with us.” Ethan’s eyes darted frantically between me and Serena. Serena suddenly cried out, “Ethan, save me! Summer is so strong, she can find a way to escape on her own!” I stared at Ethan. He had once told me that my eyes looked like the stars, and he would never let them lose their light. I thought the choice was obvious. But Ethan only hesitated for a fraction of a second before speaking. “I choose Serena.” The kidnapper whistled, untying Serena’s ropes. She threw herself into Ethan’s arms, turning her head to flash me a smug, victorious smirk. He lifted her up to carry her out. I sat frozen on the cold concrete, my brain unable to process when or how they had started sleeping together behind my back. “Ethan, don’t go…” I dragged myself forward, grabbing the hem of his pants, begging. Ethan stopped. He looked back at me, his eyes filled with a heavy, painful sorrow. “Summer, I’m sorry. I have to do this.” “Serena is too innocent and fragile. She won’t survive a single night in ‘The Pit’.” “Wait for me. As soon as I get her to safety, I’ll come back for you!” But he never got the chance. Right after he left, the man whose very name made the New York underworld tremble walked in. Mr. Mercer. Julian walked over and lifted my chin with his leather-gloved hand. “Still haven’t figured it out yet?” “Summer, I told you he wasn’t a man you could rely on.” He waved his hand, and his bodyguard handed me a thick stack of photos. “If you don’t believe me, see for yourself. These are all the proofs of his betrayal.” The photos scattered before my eyes, stabbing straight into my heart. Julian’s deep, smooth voice continued to echo in the quiet warehouse. “While he was swearing his undying loyalty to you, he was already sleeping with your enemy, Serena.” “He says he loves you. He bought you a million-dollar diamond necklace on a whim, but he never spent two months hand-writing a hundred love letters for you.” “But Serena got those.” “Not just a hundred love letters, but birthday gifts for every single year of her life from age one to twenty-three. He prepared all of them for her.” “He even snuck into your stepsister’s bedroom in the middle of the night while you were fast asleep next door.” “And now, in the face of real danger, he abandoned you without a second thought.” “Summer, are you still blind?” I didn’t say a word. Giant tears rolled down my cheeks. Julian leaned down, gently kissing the tears away. “You should choose me.” As I finished the story, my plate was clean. Leo was staring at me, his jaw practically on the floor. “That Ethan Vance is supposed to be some legendary Wall Street prodigy, and he’s actually such a gutless bastard? What happened next?” I looked up at him with a half-smile. “If you keep asking, Mr. Mercer might just shut your bistro down and kick you off the island.” As I spoke, I looked past his shoulder. A tall, imposing man in a tailored charcoal suit was walking toward us. He held out his hand to me. “Gossiping about my wife’s past, are we?”

Leo immediately offered a nervous, placating smile. “Just friendly banter, Mr. Mercer! Please don’t close my shop. Your lovely wife loves my cooking too much.” Julian waved him off, and Leo quickly scurried back inside. “Is everything taken care of?” Julian pulled me onto his lap right there on the patio. Even after two years of marriage, he was still as clingy as a high schooler, refusing to let me go. He buried his face in my neck, inhaling my scent. “Summer, you can never leave me.” I laughed, swatting his shoulder. “We’re in public, behave yourself.” “I’m your wife. Where would I go?” “And seriously, is the island transfer complete?” Two months ago, Julian had bought this entire tropical island to give to me as a birthday present. We had been too busy to visit, but we finally carved out two weeks to vacation here and manage the property. Julian wrapped his arms around my waist, nodding gently. “Everything is finalized. Everyone on this island knows you are the sole owner.” “As for that pearl boutique Ethan Vance just bought… do you want me to kick him out? Just say the word, and I’ll have his lease terminated.” I looked out at the turquoise ocean in the distance. “No need. He doesn’t matter anymore.” This was my second year married to Julian. And the third year since Ethan had abandoned me. It had taken me a whole year to heal from the betrayal, to learn to love Julian, and finally marry him. Now, Ethan Vance was nothing but a ghost from a past life. Earlier, Ethan had mentioned that Serena had recently developed an obsession with rare pearls. So, he had personally come to this island to buy her a boutique. By now, Ethan had probably brought Serena to the island. She was draped in designer brands, looking nothing like the sweet, innocent girl from three years ago. Instead, she dripped with superficial arrogance. As she looked around the luxury shopping district, her eyes suddenly locked onto a spot across the street. “Babe, look at that woman. Doesn’t she look like my stepsister?” “Didn’t you say the kidnappers dumped her on some desolate island three years ago? All those media scandals about her back then must have been true! Do you think she’s been working as a cheap hooker here for the last three years?” “No wonder she refused to go with you earlier. She probably knows she’s been ruined by too many men…” On their way here, Ethan had already confessed to running into me. He thought his wife was kind and generous enough to welcome her sister back. But he never expected to see me sitting on another man’s lap in broad daylight, looking completely flushed. This was not the Summer Sterling he knew! Ethan’s eyes flared red, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles turned white beneath his sleeves. “I have to go save her.” Serena’s face twisted in anger, and she grabbed his arm tightly. “Are you crazy? What do you think you’re doing?” “This is a private island. We don’t know anyone here. Do you even know who that man is?” “What if he’s someone we can’t afford to mess with? You want to ruin us?” Ethan struggled to pull away, but Serena held onto him with desperate strength. Julian tightened his grip around my waist, his fingers tracing my hip. “Sweetheart, I just found out this resort has a private villa with an outdoor heated pool. Want to go try it?” Only after marrying him did I realize how incredibly passionate—and shamelessly romantic—Julian could be. Every time we went somewhere new, he always wanted to play, leaving me utterly exhausted. But I could never say no to this giant, handsome devil when he started teasing me. I sighed softly, running a hand through his dark hair. “Fine, fine. Let’s go.” Soon, we got into our armored SUV, and the driver sped off toward the villa. The villa was indeed breathtaking. The massive marble tub was already filled with warm water and fresh red rose petals. “Summer…” Julian’s voice grew husky. He pinned me against the wall, his lips dropping onto mine in a deep, intoxicating kiss. Just as his hands slid down to unbutton my dress, a loud, frantic knocking banged against the wooden door. “Mr. Mercer! Please, let Summer go!”

My heart skipped a beat. It was Ethan’s voice. Didn’t he go to pick up Serena? Why the hell was he here? With our romantic mood completely ruined, Julian’s face darkened instantly. “Who is that?” “I’ll handle it.” I pressed a hand against Julian’s chest to soothe him, then walked over to pull the door open. The moment Ethan saw me, he reached out frantically to grab me. “Summer, come with me!” I didn’t budge. I coldly slapped his hand away. “Mr. Vance, didn’t you go to meet your wife? Why are you so obsessed with stalking me?” “I can’t just stand by and watch you get abused by these criminals!” Ethan’s eyes were bloodshot, staring at me with desperate intensity. He looked consumed by guilt and regret. “Three years ago, I made a mistake.” “I thought that if I got Serena to safety first, I’d have enough time to come back for you. I didn’t know those monsters would… would share those horrific photos online!” “I tried to find you afterward. But no matter how much money or power I used, I couldn’t trace you.” “I finally found a medical record of your depression treatment at a private clinic, but by the time I got there, you had already been transferred…” By the end of his speech, his voice had degraded into a pathetic whimper. “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through these past three years.” “I was wrong, Summer. Come with me. Please, give me a chance to redeem myself…” I let out a lazy, amused laugh. “Come with you? Mr. Vance, if memory serves me right, you are a married man.” Two years ago, Serena got pregnant, and Ethan married her. They threw a massive, multi-million-dollar wedding in New York. It was the talk of the town. That night, I had stood at the top of Julian’s penthouse, watching the custom fireworks spell out “I love Serena” across the night sky. Panic flashed through Ethan’s eyes, and he stammered. “But Summer, you said you loved me.” “You said we would be together forever, no matter what. Five years ago, when you bought me out of ‘The Pit,’ you told me you never saw me as a slave. You said I was your family. Did you forget?” I stared at his desperate face, feeling absolutely nothing. Those memories felt so distant they might as well have belonged to someone else. Julian cleared his throat behind me, pulling me back into his firm, warm chest. “Mr. Vance. What a pleasant surprise.” “You barge into my room and keep staring at my wife. Do you value your life on this island?” The cold reality seemed to wash over Ethan. “Mr. Mercer.” “I apologize for the intrusion. But Summer is… my friend. I’m taking her with me.” Julian raised an eyebrow, amused. “Just a friend? And why on earth would I let you take her?” Ethan closed his eyes, his knees buckling as he slammed heavily onto the floor, kneeling. “She means everything to me.” “If you let her go, I will sign over twenty-five percent of the Vance Group’s shares to you…” “I have no interest in your petty shares,” Julian cut him off. He played with a strand of my hair, looking down at Ethan like a predator watching a dying rabbit. “But if you want me to let her go, we can make a deal.” “Let’s see what you’re willing to pay.” Ethan looked determined, his expression hardening. “Anything I own. If you want it, it’s yours.” “I only have one condition: set Summer free.” Julian’s eyes turned dangerous. I sighed inwardly. Julian was a deeply possessive man; hearing another man claim his wife was probably driving him insane. He pinched my waist lightly under his hand—a silent, jealous punishment. “My, my. It seems Mr. Vance is truly devoted to my Summer.” “But I don’t care for material things.” “How about this, Ethan? If you want to take her, I want you to—” “Shoot yourself in both knees.” Ethan snapped his head up, his face filled with utter disbelief. “Too scared?” Julian mocked. “I’ll do it!” Ethan spat. The next second, Ethan pulled a compact handgun from his waistband. He pressed the cold barrel directly against his right kneecap. “Mr. Mercer, a man of your status shouldn’t break his word. Two shots, and you let Summer go.” I stared, momentarily stunned. He looked up at me, his eyes completely bloodshot. “Summer, watch closely. This first shot is what I owe you.” BANG. Blood sprayed instantly across the pristine white rug. Ethan let out a strangled groan, cold sweat pouring down his pale face. “And the second one,” he wheezed through gritted teeth. He shifted the gun to his left knee. BANG. The sound of shattering bone was sickeningly clear in the quiet room. Sitting on the sofa, the amusement in Julian’s eyes had completely vanished, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. “I see your sincerity, Mr. Vance.” Ethan collapsed onto the floor, weak and trembling, but he forced himself to look up at Julian. “Please… let her go.” I couldn’t stand this pathetic circus any longer. I stepped forward, away from Julian. “Let me go?” “Ethan, are you completely delusional?” I leaned down and draped my arm over Julian’s shoulder in a deeply intimate gesture. “I am Mr. Mercer’s wife. Asking a husband to let his own wife go with you… don’t you think you’re being utterly ridiculous?” Ethan’s head snapped up. The last drop of color drained from his face. “What did you say? You’re… Julian Mercer’s wife?”

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On the tenth year of being Julian Brooks’s exclusive figure model, he finally proposed to me. On the night of our engagement, I asked him to paint me in my wedding dress, wanting him to capture me at my most beautiful. I was buzzing with excitement, completely missing the fleeting stiffness that washed over his face. “I’m sorry, Sera,” Julian rasped, sitting before the blank canvas, his face pale under the studio lights. “I… I can’t paint you.” “What?” My smile froze. A sudden, icy draft seemed to seep straight into my bones. For the past ten years, he had always held me tight and whispered the same thing. He said I was the source of all his inspiration. His one and only muse. And now, he was telling me he couldn’t paint me. After Julian practically fled the studio, a gust of wind blew through the open window, lifting the heavy white sheet covering the most secluded corner of the room. That was when I saw them. Dozens of explicit, raw paintings Julian had done—all featuring the body of another woman.

My fingers curled into fists, my legs feeling like they were trapped in wet cement. The wind hadn’t just lifted a canvas cover; it had ripped away the final shred of decency from our ten-year relationship. I forced myself to move forward and yanked the white sheet completely off. In the dim light of the studio, I raised my hand, my vision blurring as I stared at the artwork in front of me. It was all the same girl. In one painting, she was half-naked, lounging on a plush window seat, eyes heavy with desire. In another, she stood under a golden sunset by the beach, her hair glowing like spun gold. And in another… She was lying on the very bed I had slept in for the past ten years, looking up with a seductive gaze. My ears buzzed. Memories of Julian and me flashed violently through my mind. “Jules, I love feathers. Can we have falling feathers at our wedding?” “Of course, babe.” He had never said no to me. Not once. “Jules, I want to watch the sunset on the beach. Will you take me?” “Sure.” That time, he had hesitated before agreeing. But to this day, I had never got to see that sunset with him. I had never rushed him, because I truly believed we had all the time in the world. But now, reality had just delivered a brutal, mocking slap to my face. The girl in the paintings seemed to laugh at my pathetic naivety. Everything I had longed to do with Julian, he had already done with another woman. My gaze hardened as I stared at the canvases, my heart turning to ice. I reached for a pair of fabric shears on the side table. With a clean, sharp slash, I ripped the wedding dress Julian had personally designed for me right down the middle. Just as the silk tore, the studio door pushed open. Julian hurried in, his face tight with guilt. “Sera, I—” He stopped dead in his words, his eyes landing on the ruined wedding dress. And then, on the uncovered paintings. His pupils dilated. His lips parted, but he couldn’t squeeze out a single word of explanation. “Who is she?” I asked directly, my voice eerily calm. Only I knew how badly my heart was bleeding beneath that calm facade. Ten years ago, Julian was just a starving artist. We met at a gallery in San Francisco. The moment he saw me, he begged me to be his model. I still remembered that day. He was standing in the long corridor of the gallery, the sunset casting a warm, golden halo around his hair. Just like that, he had painted his way into my heart. “Okay,” I had whispered, enchanted. That single word started our ten-year entanglement. “She’s an undergraduate from my department,” he muttered, his voice raspy as he stared at the floor. “Sera, don’t get the wrong idea. It was purely for art.” I forced a bitter laugh, looking up at him with pure sarcasm. “For art?” I closed my eyes, swallowing the bile in my throat. “For ten years, you told me I was your only source of inspiration. Your only muse.” Julian’s face tightened. He frowned, clearly annoyed by my persistence. “Inspiration isn’t something you can just control,” he said impatiently. “We’re getting married in a week. Isn’t that enough for you?” Seeing my wide, hollow eyes, his tone softened slightly. “Sera, we’ve been together for ten years. Yes, you were my muse for a decade. But… an artist can’t stay stagnant forever. I needed a fresh perspective. I needed a new muse.” My hands clenched the shears tighter. The cold metal dug into my palm, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the agony in my chest. Looking at Julian, I felt like I was looking at a complete stranger. “It’s not just a new muse you want, is it?” I smiled bitterly. “Why don’t you make her your bride next week, too?” “Sera!” he snapped, his voice sharp with a warning tone, as if I had hit a nerve. “I am marrying you. But I won’t stop painting her. Stop being unreasonable.” My heart sank into a dark, bottomless abyss. Before I could speak, his phone buzzed. In the dead silence of the room, a woman’s voice came through the speaker, clear as day. “Jules, are you coming over tonight? I’m waiting for you.” My body began to shake uncontrollably in the sudden chill of the room. Julian hung up, grabbed his jacket, and rushed out the door without looking back. All the strength holding me up evaporated. I collapsed onto the floor, surrounded by emptiness. After what felt like hours, I picked up my phone and called my wedding coordinator. “I need a new wedding dress designed within a week.” “Sure, what size?” I gripped the phone, my eyes locking onto the new “muse” in the paintings. Fortunately, after ten years in the industry, I had an eye for body measurements. “Size 2. 32-24-35.”

Predictably, Julian didn’t come home that night. The next morning, I was woken up by rustling noises outside my bedroom. I opened the door and saw a young girl standing in the hallway. My breath hitched. With just one look, I recognized her from the paintings. She gasped when she saw me. “Oh… Sera? What are you doing home? I thought…” Realizing she had slipped up, she quickly covered her mouth. Her eyes—which looked eighty percent like mine—filled with mock panic. I took a step forward, a cold, mocking smile on my lips. “What am I doing in my own home? So, you usually come over when I’m not here?” Her eyes darted around, and she spoke in a soft, trembling voice. “No, that’s not it. I just came to grab some brushes for Julian. We have a session scheduled today. We’re shooting… private portraits.” She peeked at me, a flash of smug defiance hidden in her eyes. My fists clenched at my sides. Her tactics were cheap, but highly effective. A wave of hot, blinding fury burned away the last of my sanity. Slap! The sharp sound of the slap echoed through the hallway. “Are you looking for trouble?” I asked, my voice deadly quiet. “How dare you flaunt your cheap affair in my face?” She clutched her cheek, staring at me in absolute shock. “You…” “Sera!” Julian’s angry voice roared from the front door. “What do you think you’re doing?” He rushed over and pulled Chloe behind him. It looked like he was reprimanding her, but he was actually shielding her from me. A sharp, stabbing pain pierced my chest. Julian stared at the red mark on Chloe’s cheek, his brow furrowed in anger as he glared at me. “I’m sorry about this, Sera. She was just helping me grab some gear. Don’t take it out on her.” “Ju—” I stopped myself. Hearing Chloe call him “Jules” made me want to throw up. I called him by his full name instead. “Julian.” “I told you yesterday, you can swap your bride for her next week. But as long as she behaves like a homewrecker in front of me, I will put her in her place.” Behind him, Chloe’s eyes lit up with a triumphant gleam. Julian flinched when he heard me call him by his full name. But hearing my words, his face darkened completely, filled with impatience and a trace of irritation he didn’t even seem to realize he had. “Sera! Can you stop throwing a tantrum? She was just picking up my things. Do you really have to be this petty?” “Let me tell you something. In the future, there will only be more women I paint!” He rubbed his temples, his voice sounding incredibly exhausted. “Can you try to understand me for once? I look at you now and I feel absolutely nothing. No inspiration. Do you want me to ruin my career just to prove my loyalty to you?” “I’m marrying you. You’ll be my only wife. Isn’t that enough?” Outside, thunder rumbled, and a sudden downpour began to pelt against the glass. But my heart, strangely, fell completely quiet. I looked at him, not bothering to argue anymore. I simply said, word by word, “Do whatever you want.” Julian let out a sigh of relief, thinking I had surrendered. He stepped forward to give me a quick hug before rushing out the door with Chloe. The moment they left, I pulled out my phone and deleted every single trace of Julian Brooks from my life. All those beautiful memories were now nothing but poison. That afternoon, I received an invitation from my alma mater to speak as an distinguished alumna to the graduating seniors. As I walked down the campus path, I overheard a group of students gossiping excitedly. “Hey, did you hear? Julian Brooks is back on campus! He brought Chloe from the senior class to the Diamond Studio.” “No way! Isn’t that studio supposed to be…” “I’m serious! My roommate is the student council president. Julian got the keys from her.” Their voices faded as they walked away. I looked up at the dark, overcast sky, feeling my heart being ripped apart piece by piece. As a former art student, I knew exactly what that studio was used for. Artists often chased extreme, provocative aesthetics. Bondage gear—handcuffs, heavy chains, and cages—were kept there for avant-garde photography and dark installations.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and walked toward the Diamond Studio. The hallway grew quieter the closer I got, making the heavy clinking of chains inside the room echo loudly. Julian had forgotten to lock the door. It was slightly ajar. Through the crack, the scene inside struck my eyes like a physical blow. Chloe was posing in skimpy lingerie, her wrists bound in handcuffs, while heavy chains wrapped around her neck and ankles. Little bells hung from her collar, jingling with her every movement. Her eyes were full of lust. “Jules, is this okay? I want to look beautiful for you.” Julian stood before her with a paintbrush, stepping closer to touch her bare skin. “Of course,” his voice was incredibly low and gravelly. “You are stunning, Chloe.” My pupils shrunk, my gaze turning dead cold. For ten years, I never knew Julian had this side to him. Maybe his passion had just never been meant for me. The pain washed over me like a freezing December wind. I grabbed the doorknob and slammed the door open. “Ah!” Chloe screamed, scrambling to cover herself, the chains clinking frantically. I walked straight in, grabbed a bucket of mixed acrylic paint from the table, and dumped the entire thing over her head. The chemical stench filled the room. Chloe stared at her paint-splattered, ruined body in absolute horror. “Sera Jenkins! Are you insane?!” Julian, paralyzed with shock, finally snapped out of it and grabbed my arm. “What is wrong with you?!” His shove sent me stumbling back. I crashed hard against the iron cage behind me, a dull thud echoing through the room. I looked up, staring straight into his eyes. Meeting my icy glare, Julian’s grip loosened. A flash of panic and guilt crossed his face. “This is just for my art,” he said, stepping forward to touch my bruised shoulder. “Don’t misunderstand. You went to art school too, you should understand this.” I took a step back, escaping his touch, and whispered, “Julian, you make me sick.” He froze, stunned. For ten years, I had never spoken a harsh word to him. Chloe stood up, the bells on her collar jingling loudly. “Sera, don’t blame Jules. He’s doing this for the upcoming National Art Exhibition. You’ve been with him for so long, don’t you know how important this award is to him? If I don’t mind posing like this, why do you?” I clenched my jaw, looked her up and down with utter disgust, and turned on my heel. Chloe froze. The look I gave her—like evaluating a cheap piece of meat—shattered her pride. She was just a college girl after all. Her eyes welled with tears of humiliation. I walked out, leaving behind a fuming Chloe and a silent Julian, whose fists were clenched so hard his knuckles were white. That evening, I was packing my passport and documents when Julian opened the bedroom door. His face was grim. “Sera, you went too far today.” I didn’t even look up, keeping my back turned to him. Seeing my silence, Julian assumed I was feeling guilty. “Chloe cried for hours today. She hasn’t even graduated yet. Don’t you think you were too cruel? Art requires sacrifice. Why are you acting so crazy lately?” A mocking smile touched my lips. I stood up and faced him. “What I do is none of your business. If you love this kind of ‘art,’ go ahead. I won’t stop you. And let me make this clear one last time: I am not marrying you.”

Julian choked on his breath, his annoyance clear. But beneath that annoyance was a deep, unnamable panic. “Sera, stop talking nonsense. We’ve been together for ten years. I know you love me too much to leave. I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. The wedding is in five days. We both need to cool down.” “Sure,” I nodded indifferently. “Let’s cool down.” Julian stared at me for a long moment before turning to leave. But his hasty retreat looked more like fleeing. Three days later, the wedding designer called. “Sera, the new dress is ready.” “I’ll pick it up tomorrow,” I said quietly. Then, I dialed Chloe’s number. “Don’t you want to be Julian’s bride? Tomorrow at 8:00 AM, go to the bridal boutique on 5th Avenue.” Without waiting for her reply, I hung up. I knew she would go. And I knew she wouldn’t tell Julian. If she didn’t have ambition, she wouldn’t have slept with a committed man in the first place. Holding my passport and one-way ticket, I took one last look at the penthouse we had decorated together. I smiled mockingly. The next morning, at the bridal boutique. I pushed the door open and saw Chloe already waiting eagerly. I walked over, crossing my arms, and looked down at her. Chloe flinched, then stood up quickly, her eyes darting nervously. “Why did you ask me to come here?” I signaled the assistant to bring out the new wedding dress. I looked at Chloe, my smile not reaching my eyes. “Tomorrow is my wedding with Julian. You know that, right?” She clutched her purse, her face turning pale. “Yes… so what?” I handed her the garment bag, cutting her off. “Wear this tomorrow. You will be his bride.” Her eyes went wide. “What… what do you mean?” Without another word, I turned and walked out. Tomorrow’s wedding was supposed to be a grand networking event for Julian’s career. Now that I thought about it, he had always treated our wedding as a business transaction. Leaving the boutique, the grey clouds finally parted, and a ray of warm sunshine hit my face, washing away the gloom. I took a cab straight to the airport, threw my old SIM card into a trash can, and bought a ticket to Switzerland. Meanwhile, Julian stared at his phone. We hadn’t spoken in four days. He tugged at his tie, feeling incredibly frustrated. His thumb hovered over my contact name, but he ultimately locked his phone. Whatever. Tomorrow was the wedding anyway. She would show up. With that thought, he finally calmed down. Just then, Chloe walked into his apartment holding a large garment bag. Her face flushed when she saw him. “What’s that?” he asked casually. Thinking of my words, Chloe hid the bag slightly behind her back. “Nothing. Just a surprise for tomorrow. You’ll love it, Jules.” Julian pulled her into his arms, kissing her deeply, but the strange emptiness in his chest remained unfilled. The next day. The wedding venue. Julian stood on the altar in a sharp black tux, looking at the prestigious guests, gallery owners, and his parents. An uneasy feeling clawed at his chest because he still hadn’t heard from me. The officiant spoke into the microphone, his voice booming. “And now, let us welcome our beautiful bride!” The crowd clapped enthusiastically as the grand doors slowly opened. Julian’s heart hammered in his chest. The lights dimmed, leaving only a spotlight on the woman walking down the aisle. But the moment Julian saw her face, his entire body went rigid. He rushed down the altar, his eyes turning bloodshot as he roared: “Chloe? What the hell are you doing here?!”

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Eight years into our marriage, heavily pregnant, I had just secured a fifty-million-dollar contract for Carter Vance. But the moment I walked back into the office, I caught him and his new secretary locked in a passionate embrace, passionately making out. My body trembled with rage as I confronted them. Yet, all I got in return was a sneer from the young girl. “So you’re the famous charity-case scholarship girl Carter sponsored back in college? Look at you—so tacky and plain. You don’t look like Mrs. Vance at all! Carter has me now. If you have any self-respect left, get an abortion, sign the papers, and get lost!” I slowly turned my gaze to Carter, who was standing beside her. Though he didn’t say a word, his bowed head and avoided gaze spoke volumes. Taking advantage of their distraction, I quickly slipped the signed fifty-million-dollar contract back into my designer bag. A cold smile played on my lips as I looked at my husband. “Carter, after all these years as husband and wife, I only need one word from you. Do you actually dare to divorce me?”

I had married into the Vance family when Vance Tech was on the verge of bankruptcy. For eight long years—over two thousand grueling days and nights—I relied on my own research and dozens of patents to bring Vance Tech back from the dead. Even Carter’s snobbish parents used to treat me with absolute respect. I honestly thought Carter understood what was at stake. “Chloe, let’s just get a divorce.” Carter stared at his own expensive shoes, mumbling those six words. His voice wasn’t loud, but there was a sickeningly firm resolve behind his feigned helplessness. Suddenly, a sharp, deafening ringing buzzed in my ears—a symptom that had plagued me ever since I got pregnant. In my belly, the baby gave a sudden, violent kick. I lunged forward, grabbing Carter by his silk tie. “Are you serious? I am five months pregnant! You want a divorce now?” Carter let me yank his tie, refusing to meet my eyes or utter a single word of defense. The anger inside me burned hotter. This was always Carter’s way when things got tough. Avoidance. Silence. Just as I was about to scream at him, a high-pitched, mocking female voice cut in. “Oh, cut the drama, you rabid dog. Carter is only being nice because of your history. When a man asks for a divorce once, it’s already over. If you had any dignity, you’d pack your bags and roll out…” Hailey Bennett was someone a business contact had begged me dozens of times to slip into our company. I never expected to recruit my own nightmare. I made a mental note to make that contact pay dearly for this later. But Hailey took another step forward, getting right in my face. “Are you deaf? I’m talking to you, you trailer-trash she-devil—” Before she could finish her sentence, my hand flew out and delivered a ringing slap across her face. “That slap was to teach you how to speak to your boss!” “And this one…” I raised my hand again, aiming for her other cheek, “…is to teach you how to speak to a wife!” But before my palm could connect, a large, firm hand clamped down on my wrist. Carter looked at me with a complicated, guilty expression. “That’s enough, Chloe! If you want to hit someone, hit me! I drank too much that night and got Hailey pregnant. She’s young, and I have to take responsibility for her and the baby…” It felt like a lump of cold ash was wedged in my throat. My chest surged with absolute fury and betrayal, but I couldn’t squeeze out a single word. Carter had health issues; for Hailey to get pregnant so quickly seemed less like an accident and more like a carefully orchestrated trap. Suddenly, it hit me. A few months ago, Carter, who used to chain-smoke, had abruptly quit. When I asked him about it back then, he had wrapped his arms around me with tender affection and whispered in my ear: “Chloe, you’re pregnant now. For you, the baby, and our future, I have to quit.” I had actually thought he was finally growing up, ready to be a real partner. Turns out, he was just preparing his body to conceive a child with this cheap little girl. My stomach suddenly churned. I leaned against the wall, dry-heaving uncontrollably. Carter rushed forward, trying to support me. “Chloe, I’m sorry,” he whispered cautiously. “I know I messed up. I’ll give you time to process this. As long as we get the divorce finalized before Hailey gives birth, that’s all I ask. Please try to understand… Hailey’s baby can’t grow up without a father.” The scent of his familiar cologne drifted into my nose, making me feel even sicker. I violently pushed him away, forcing a cold, lethal smile as I stared him down. “What is there to process? We’re divorcing. Right now.” Then, I shifted my icy gaze to Hailey’s barely visible baby bump. “Her kid can’t be without a father, and neither can mine. Let’s get this done quickly so I can find a much better dad for my son.” A flicker of panic flashed deep in Carter’s eyes. “Chloe…” “Carter! She already agreed! Why are you stalling? Get the divorce papers out!” Hailey pouted, cutting him off. Before Carter could even react, Hailey had already grabbed the pre-printed divorce agreement and shoved it into my hands. I scanned the terms, and a cold, hysterical laugh escaped my lips. “Carter Vance, zero shares of the company for me?” “Chloe, Vance Tech belongs to my family. Besides, I funded your college tuition for eight years. In all fairness, you have no right to these shares.” I had been grateful once. That was why I married him when the Vance family was at their lowest. Over the years, dozens of tech giants had offered me hundreds of millions for my patents. But I had let the Vance family use them for free for eight years. Ninety percent of Vance Tech’s clients only signed with us because of my patents. And now, Carter wanted me to leave with absolutely nothing. “Chloe, if you’re really unhappy about it, I suppose I could transfer a tiny fraction of my personal shares to you…” “No need,” I said, grabbing a pen. “I’ll sign. We’re divorcing right now.” Once this marriage is over, forget your petty shares—the entire Vance family will soon find themselves holding a hollow shell.

The moment the ink dried on my signature, Hailey let out a mocking chuckle beside me. “I don’t get why you’re still acting so proud. A divorced, pregnant trailer-trash woman—let’s see how you survive without Carter!” “Unlike you, Carter has my family’s backing now. Within a year, he’ll easily become the richest man in the city!” I stopped in my tracks and cast a chilling side-eye at Hailey. Her family? I vaguely recalled her belonging to some old-money family in decline, but I couldn’t quite place the name. I tossed the signed agreement onto the desk and turned to leave. Just as I reached the door, Carter called out to me. “Chloe! Did you sign that fifty-million-dollar contract you went out to negotiate today?” I slowly turned around, a sweet, mocking smile on my face. “I did. But I just sent a message to the client telling them the contract is canceled.” “Carter, we’re divorced now. I have no interest in working like a dog for the Vance family anymore. I’m sure you understand.” The otherwise quiet and passive Carter suddenly erupted into a furious rage. “Chloe! Do you have to be this ruthless?!” Gritting his teeth in anger, he snatched his phone and dialed the client’s number. The moment the call connected, Carter instantly forced a greasy, sycophantic smile onto his face. “M-Mr. Sterling! Hello, this is Carter Vance from Vance Tech…” “Carter Vance? Who the hell is that? At Vance Tech, I only deal with Chloe Miller.” The next second, the line went dead. Carter desperately dialed back, but every call went straight to voicemail. In a fit of rage, Carter slammed his phone onto the marble floor, glaring at me like he wanted to rip me apart. “Chloe! Do you have to ruin us?! Do you know how important that fifty-million-dollar contract was?! That was almost our entire profit margin for the year!” I shrugged, utterly indifferent. “I know. But what does that have to do with me?” Hailey quickly rushed to his side, rubbing his back and whispering sweet nothings. “Carter, babe, don’t worry. It’s just a fifty-million-dollar contract. I’ll talk to my grandfather when I get home. Forget fifty million—he can get you a five-hundred-million-dollar deal with a snap of his fingers!” I smiled and walked out of the building. Behind me, Carter’s furious, resentful roars echoed down the hallway. “Chloe! Getting rid of you was the best decision of my life! I never realized what a vicious, disgusting bitch you really are!” Ignoring his pathetic screams, I dialed the contact who had forced Hailey into my company. “Julian, what is the background of that little girl you had me hire?” “Oh, her?” Julian Brooks laughed over the line. “She’s the spoiled heiress of Apex Holdings—well, what’s left of it. Old man Bennett practically begged me for five years just to get a meeting with you. He probably figured sending his granddaughter to butter you up was his best shot. They want your patents. They figured if you could save the Vance family, you could save the Bennetts too…” The foggy pieces of my memory suddenly clicked together. During the last few industry summits, a frail, elderly man had bowed politely to me, with a decent-looking girl hovering behind him. A quiet sneer escaped my lips. So, Carter and Hailey were playing a game of mutual deception, both trying to leech off each other’s non-existent fortunes. How entertaining.

I was in Julian’s office, telling him about Hailey’s grand performance, when his assistant knocked and entered with a pale face. The assistant hesitantly leaned in to whisper to Julian, but Julian pushed him back. “Chloe is family. If you have something to say, say it out loud.” The assistant trembled. “Mr. Brooks… our building is being swarmed by reporters.” “Why are they swarming us?” “They’re… they’re demanding a statement from Ms. Miller…” Julian and I pulled out our phones at the same time. The moment I saw the trending headlines on Instagram and Twitter, my heart sank into a cold, dark abyss. Out of the top ten trending topics in the city, I occupied three, highlighted in blood-red. 【Viper in the House! Vance Family’s Charity Case Cancels $50M Contract to Vent Personal Malice!】 【Vance Tech’s Wife Betrays Husband: Secretly Pregnant with a Boytoy’s Child!】 【Chloe Miller’s Calculated Scam: The Truth Behind Her Parasitic Marriage to the Vance Family!】 Then came a barrage of emails and messages from my clients. [Ms. Miller, we need an official explanation regarding these scandals immediately. Otherwise, we may have to reconsider our partnership for the next quarter.] [Chloe, let’s put our ongoing negotiations on hold for now.] There were even vicious messages from anonymous internet trolls. [You disgusting whore! I’ll spit on you if I ever see you on the street!] [Ungrateful snake! I hope your baby is born a freak!] I clenched my fist and slammed it on the desk. This was clearly the work of Carter and Hailey. The moment I notified the clients of my departure from Vance Tech, these smear campaigns had flooded the internet. They wanted to utterly ruin me. I grabbed my bag and headed for the door, but Julian caught my arm. “Chloe, you’re pregnant. Don’t go out there. Let me handle this.” I gently shook his hand off. “Julian, I dragged myself out of hell to get where I am today. A little rain storm isn’t going to break me.” But the moment I stepped out of the lobby, I realized why Julian’s assistant had been so terrified. Because besides the bloodthirsty paparazzi, there were several prominent figures from the city’s high society standing at the entrance. Among them were Carter’s parents. Eleanor Vance spotted me from a distance and immediately put on a fake, warm smile, rushing over to grab my hands. “Chloe, sweetie! I don’t know how things got so out of hand. It must be because of that fifty-million-dollar contract. Did we upset Mr. Sterling?” Richard Vance stepped forward too, forcing a reassuring smile. “Yes, Chloe. Canceling a signed deal so suddenly… it’s natural for the client to be upset. Just go apologize to Mr. Sterling, get the contract back, and I’m sure these reporters will leave you alone.” I slowly peeled Eleanor’s manicured hands off me and smiled. “Actually, Eleanor, Mr. Sterling isn’t upset at all. I just signed a new deal with him through a friend’s company. He is actually thrilled.” I watched the color drain from the elderly couple’s faces. A cold sneer formed in my heart. It seemed they had a hand in this media circus today too. I had bled myself dry for the Vance family for eight years, only to realize I had been feeding a pack of ungrateful wolves. Eleanor’s face instantly twisted in anger. “Chloe, what did you just say?! You signed Mr. Sterling with a friend’s company? You are the daughter-in-law of the Vance family! How dare you betray us like this?!” I met her furious gaze, reached into my bag, and slapped the newly signed divorce agreement into her hands. “I’m sorry, but I have absolutely nothing to do with the Vance family anymore.”

I pushed past Eleanor to leave, but the hundreds of reporters waiting outside swarmed me like vultures. In my eight years of running a business, I had dealt with the media countless times. I knew that the more I spoke now, the more they would twist my words. I turned toward the back exit, but a sharp, mocking voice cut through the noise. “Oh, look at the elegant Chloe Miller. What’s wrong? Did we hit a nerve? Running away because you can’t face the truth?” Hailey, clinging tightly to Carter’s arm, strutted toward me. I ignored her and kept walking, but before I could take two steps, someone grabbed my wrist in a vice grip. Hailey jumped in front of me, pointing a finger right at my nose. “Let me tell you, Chloe, don’t think Vance Tech is nothing without you! Fifty million is pocket change. Even if it’s five hundred million, or five billion, it’s just a phone call away for me!” “Mrs. Vance was kind enough to give you a way out, and instead of being grateful, you disrespected her in public! Get your ass over here and apologize to her right now!” Carter chimed in, his face cold and arrogant. “Chloe, you crossed the line today. If you don’t apologize to my mother properly, you aren’t leaving this place.” As the drama unfolded, the crowd grew larger. I could see the luxury cars of several major business partners pulling up down the street. It seemed Carter and Hailey had really planned this trap thoroughly. While I was looking away, a sharp pain erupted from my scalp. Hailey had grabbed me by my hair, violently dragging me toward Eleanor. In the chaos and shoving, I lost my footing and crashed hard against the concrete stairs. A careless reporter tripped over me, and his heavy camera slammed directly into my lower abdomen before he fell right on top of my body. An excruciating, stabbing pain shot through my belly. A second later, a warm, wet sensation began to pool beneath me, soaking through my clothes. Eleanor stood over me, looking down coldly. Hailey yanked my hair again, forcing my head up. “Do it! Apologize to Mrs. Vance!” Looking at the blood pooling beneath me, Eleanor showed a brief flicker of hesitation. After all, she knew my value to their business better than Carter did. But just as she bent down to help me up, Hailey cut her off. “Mrs. Vance, don’t waste your pity on this snake! Don’t worry about the business. Leave it all to me. I already spoke to my grandfather about that five-hundred-million-dollar project. The contract will be signed, and the money will hit your account in no time!” Hearing the mention of five hundred million dollars, Eleanor’s eyes lit up with greed. When she looked back down at me, her face was filled with haughty disdain once more. “Chloe, you’re a grown woman, yet you’re not even half as sensible as Hailey. For old times’ sake, just apologize to me, hand back our clients, and we will let this go.” Hailey stepped closer, whispering maliciously in my ear as she looked at my blood-soaked pants. “You worthless trash. You couldn’t even keep your husband, and now you can’t even keep your baby.” “Once my grandfather transfers that five hundred million to the Vance family, your real living hell begins!” I gritted my teeth, forced myself up, and landed a vicious slap right across Hailey’s face. “Your grandfather is on his way. Let’s see whose living hell begins then…” Hailey gasped, her eyes wide with shock. Just as she was about to slap me back, a deep, booming voice echoed from the entrance. “Hailey Bennett!”

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Three months into my pregnancy, I had an intense craving for blueberries. I texted Ethan, who worked at the hospital, asking him to grab some on his way home from his shift. It was eleven at night when Ethan finally walked through the door. His hands were completely empty. He saw the look on my face, realized his mistake, and gave me a guilt-ridden apology. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I was in surgery all day and completely forgot about the blueberries.” “I’ll buy them for you first thing tomorrow, okay? Please don’t be mad.” I didn’t think too much of it. Instead, I tried to comfort him. But as I was hanging up his coat, a trendy designer hair claw slid out of his pocket. Ethan’s face went stiff. He quickly offered an awkward explanation. “Oh, Hailey really wanted that brand. She kept begging me to grab one for her if I passed by the boutique, so I just bought it to get her off my back.” I remembered it clearly. Right next to that boutique was the organic market that sold my favorite blueberries. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over me. I looked at him, my voice eerily calm. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.”

Ethan froze. His expression darkened instantly. “On what grounds?” My hand tightened around the hair claw, the plastic teeth biting into my palm. “You forgot my blueberries.” “Just because of that?” His face fell completely, and he pinched the bridge of his nose, looking utterly drained. “Chloe, you’re about to be a mother. How are you still this childish and petty?” “Pregnant women are always so unreasonable. Fine, throw your tantrum. I’m not going to argue with you.” With that, he snatched the hair claw from my hand, grabbed his pillow, and headed straight for the study. As I watched his retreating back, a sharp, dull ache spread through my chest. That night, following a trail of digital breadcrumbs, I finally found Hailey’s Instagram account. I opened it, and it was filled with posts about her and Ethan. “Ethan looks so cold, but he’s actually the sweetest. He complains about me every day, but he never misses a lunch date with me.” The photo showed Ethan with a reluctant face, eating the onions she had picked out of her plate. Ethan hated wasting food. If I ever left my onions behind, he would lecture me for hours. But with Hailey, his rules didn’t seem to apply. “So much stress lately that my chest was aching. Luckily, Ethan was there to do a private exam for me.” The photo was a mirror selfie of Ethan adjusting his stethoscope in an examination room, with her smiling in the background. The latest update was from just a minute ago. It was a screenshot of a FaceTime call. She was wearing a skimpy bunny girl outfit, posing suggestively. “Ethan got annoyed by a certain pregnant lady tonight, but don’t worry, I’ve already cheered him up.” My heart sank into a cold, dark abyss. Behind my back, Ethan and Hailey had already crossed every line. The next morning. It was Ethan’s day off. He woke up early and bought a carton of the plumpest, freshest blueberries. He washed them, put them on a plate, and even fed one to my mouth. “I didn’t forget the blueberries on purpose last night, Chloe. I was just exhausted.” “I know pregnant women are sensitive and prone to overthinking. That’s why I went out first thing this morning to get these. They’re super sweet. You’ll love them.” Looking at the perfect blueberries, I only felt a wave of nausea. Just then, Ethan’s phone buzzed. The caller ID read: “The World’s Biggest Idiot.” It sounded like a tease, but it was dripping with affection. I didn’t know what Hailey said on the other end, but the color drained from Ethan’s face. He turned to me, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Hailey’s being harassed by a patient. She’s just a young resident; she can’t handle this alone. I have to go.” I grabbed his arm. “Is she the only doctor in that entire hospital? She can call security, or she can call the cops. Why does she have to call another woman’s husband?” “And you forgot? Today is my prenatal checkup. You promised you’d come with me.” Ethan stared at me as if I were a stranger, his eyes cold and distant. “Chloe, how can you be so heartless? Hailey is my junior. It’s my job to look out for her.” He shook off my grip and walked out without looking back. Staring at the closed door, I suddenly remembered the day we found out I was pregnant. He had cried tears of joy. He told me that I and the baby were his entire world. Now, we couldn’t even compete with another woman. Ten minutes later, Hailey’s Instagram updated. The location tag was Ethan’s office. She was wearing a crop top, kneeling under his desk, her hand on his belt. The caption read: “Lied to Ethan about being harassed just so I could give him his ‘reward.’ lol.” I let out a dry laugh. I pulled out my phone and called my best friend, Jessica. “Jessica, draw up a divorce agreement. I’m leaving Ethan.” I met Jessica at a local coffee shop. When she heard what Ethan had done, her face went red with rage, and she cursed him out for ten minutes straight. After I calmed her down, she quickly drafted the paperwork. “Get him to sign this as soon as possible. Also, I’m moving to London in two weeks for a new firm. Come with me.” On my way home, a black sedan suddenly veered into my lane. To avoid a head-on collision, my Uber driver swerved violently, crashing straight into an oncoming SUV. The impact slammed me against the door. A sharp, agonizing pain ripped through my abdomen, and I felt a warm rush of fluid between my legs. Before I could even scream, my vision started to fade. Right before I blacked out, I saw a familiar man and woman rush out of the black sedan. Ethan ran toward me, looking completely frantic. The hickey on his collarbone stood out like a fresh brand, burning my eyes. He held me, his voice trembling. “Chloe! Stay with me! I’m getting you to the ER right now!” I couldn’t speak. Darkness swallowed me whole. When I regained consciousness, I was on an operating table. Ethan, in his surgical scrubs, was prep-ping for surgery with a panicked look on his face. “Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let anything happen to you or the baby. You’re going to be fine.” Beside him, Hailey’s eyes were red, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. It’s my fault… I distracted Ethan while he was driving. I’m so sorry.” “But don’t worry, Ethan is the best surgeon here. You and the baby will make it.” The memory of them in the car flashed through my mind, filling me with rage, but the anesthesia kept me paralyzed and mute. Thanks to Ethan’s skills, the initial surgery went well. The baby was temporarily out of danger. But during the final closure, Hailey, who was assisting with the sutures, made a fatal error with the surgical tool. She accidentally sliced deep into my uterine wall. Blood surged instantly, turning the sterile field into a crimson nightmare.

“Damn it!” Ethan’s voice cracked. He immediately began emergency resuscitation. But it was too late. The baby was gone. I nearly died too, slipping back into a deep coma on the table. When I woke up again, Ethan was sitting by my bedside. He had dark circles under his eyes, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. I parted my dry lips. “The baby is gone?” Guilt flashed in Ethan’s eyes. He squeezed my hand tightly. “I’m so sorry, Chloe. I couldn’t save him. But please, don’t be too sad. We can have another baby. The important thing is that you’re okay.” Hailey, standing nearby, nodded quickly in agreement. “Exactly, Chloe. At least we saved your life. You have to stay strong.” I let out a cold, hollow laugh. “What right do you two have to say that? You killed my baby. I saw what you were doing in that car. I’m going to report both of you to the medical board. You’re going to lose your licenses.” Their faces turned pale instantly. Hailey fell to her knees by my bed, sobbing. “I’m sorry, Chloe! I know I messed up! Please don’t report me. They’ll expel me from the residency program!” “I worked so hard to get into this hospital. Being a doctor is my dream. If I lose this, my life is over!” Ethan’s face softened with pity. He turned to me, frowning. “Chloe, I told you, it was an accident. We didn’t mean to hit your car. Do you really have to ruin her entire life?” “We can always have another baby. Are you seriously going to destroy a living person’s future over a child you haven’t even met yet?” When he said those words, did he remember how he had cried tears of joy when we first saw the positive pregnancy test? I didn’t want to look at him. I turned my back to them. It didn’t matter. Soon, I would be gone anyway. Seeing my silence, Hailey cried harder until she fake-fainted. Ethan, looking utterly heartbroken, scooped her up in his arms and rushed out of the room. That very night, Ethan had me secretly discharged and brought me back to our house. He confiscated my phone, laptop, and passport, locking me inside the master bedroom. I knew why. He was terrified I would report Hailey and ruin her career. He told me: “I was the one driving. If you want to sue someone, sue me. Hailey is innocent. She comes from a poor family and worked her butt off to get out of her small town. I won’t let our marital issues ruin her.” But with his family’s connections, even if I sent ten thousand reports, I couldn’t touch his position at the hospital. To keep me quiet, he forced me to take sleeping pills, keeping me in a constant, drug-induced sleep. Until one day, I was awakened by a sharp, stinging pain. I opened my eyes and saw Hailey holding my right hand. She was repeatedly sticking an IV needle into my skin, over and over again. Seeing me open my eyes, she gave me an innocent smile. “Oh, you’re awake, Chloe. I have a clinical exam in a few days, so I wanted to practice finding veins on your hand. Sorry if it hurt.” Looking at my blood-spattered hand, I summoned all my strength, raised my left arm, and slapped her hard across the face. The commotion brought Ethan running in. Seeing the red mark on Hailey’s cheek, he glared at me. “Chloe! Hailey came all the way here to check on you, and you slapped her?!” I pointed at the bleeding needle marks on my wrist. “She used my hand as a pincushion. Why shouldn’t I slap her?” A flicker of guilt crossed Ethan’s eyes, but before he could speak, Hailey burst into tears. “I’m sorry, Chloe! I didn’t mean to hurt you! I just wanted to pass my exam… I really didn’t mean it…” Ethan couldn’t stand her tears. He quickly wiped her face and comforted her. “It’s not your fault, Hailey. Don’t blame yourself.” I wanted to laugh. I was the one bleeding, yet he was pardoning her on my behalf. I grabbed the ceramic vase from the nightstand and hurled it at them. “Get out! Both of you, get the hell out of my house!”

Ethan easily pulled Hailey out of the way of the shattering vase. He ushered her out of the room and ordered the guard at the door: “The Mrs. is agitated. Have the private doctor come up and bandage her hand.” Ethan didn’t come back to the room that night. I didn’t care. I quietly began packing my things. Ethan and I were high school sweethearts. We had been together from age eighteen to twenty-eight. The photos we took and the gifts we exchanged over ten years were countless. That night, I threw them all into the fireplace and watched them burn to ash. Four days later, Ethan finally returned. He was completely drunk, and Hailey was supporting his weight. Seeing me sitting on the living room sofa, Hailey gave me a smug, provocative smile. “Ethan drank a bit too much celebrating my successful exam. Don’t be mad, Chloe.” “Who’s drunk?” Ethan mumbled, pinning Hailey against the wall with a goofy grin. “I can drink ten more of you under the table.” Hailey smiled at me. “Don’t mind him, Chloe. He’s always like this when he’s drunk…” “I don’t mind,” I interrupted her before she could finish. I stood up and went upstairs, completely ignoring them. That night, muffled, disgusting sounds drifted up from the living room. I blocked them out. At 3:00 AM, Hailey sent me a selfie. Her neck was covered in dark hickeys. “Don’t get the wrong idea, Chloe. Ethan thought I was you last night. He was so rough. These are going to take days to fade.” I let out a cold snort and didn’t reply. The next afternoon, Jessica texted me. “Are you packed? I booked our flight for 3:00 PM. I’m coming to pick you up in an hour.” I replied with a single word: “Yes.” Then, I walked over to the safe to grab the pink diamond locket my parents had left me. But when I opened it, the safe was completely empty. A terrible feeling seized me. I rushed downstairs. In the kitchen, Ethan was wearing an apron, cooking lunch for Hailey. Hailey was lounging on the sofa, watching TV, and around her neck was my pink diamond locket. I marched over to her, my voice cold as ice. “Give me my necklace back.” Hailey frowned, covering the locket with her hand. “Ethan gave this to me. It’s an expensive gift. I’m not giving it back.” I sneered. “That was left to me by my deceased parents. What right does he have to give it to you?” Hearing the noise, Ethan walked out of the kitchen. Seeing us fighting over the necklace, a flash of guilt crossed his face, but he quickly tried to placate me. “Chloe, Hailey is going to a prestigious training seminar out of state next month. I was worried about her going alone, so I lent her the locket for good luck. Don’t worry, she’ll return it when she gets back.” Fury flared in my chest. I raised my hand and slapped him hard across the face. “Ethan! You know how much this locket means to me! I don’t even wear it myself! How dare you give it to her?!” Ethan’s face darkened. “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Chloe! Why are you being so stingy? She said she’d return it!” Before I could speak, Hailey choked out a sob. “Fine, if you’re going to be like this, I don’t want it. Take it back!” She unclasped the necklace and held it out to me. But just as I reached for it, she purposely let go. The delicate locket fell, slamming hard against the marble floor. The pink diamond popped out, the gold frame bent, and the glass protecting my parents’ picture shattered into tiny pieces. Hailey gasped, fake-covering her mouth. “Oh my god! Why didn’t you catch it? The locket is ruined. You can’t blame me for that.” Her smug, mocking face made me sick. I didn’t hesitate. I grabbed the heavy glass vase from the coffee table and slammed it right over her head. Hailey screamed as blood began to gush from her forehead. Ethan panicked, instantly grabbing clean towels to stop the bleeding. I didn’t even look at them. I knelt, picked up the broken pieces of my locket, and went upstairs to grab my suitcase. As I walked back down, Ethan yelled after me. “Chloe! Where do you think you’re going?!” I looked at him with an expressionless face and threw the signed divorce papers right at his face. “Away from you.” “Ethan, we are done. I don’t want you anymore.”

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I had been married to Julian Sterling for years, but the Sterling family kept our marriage buried in the dark. It wasn’t until his live broadcast today, when he calmly told the world, “I am not secretly married, and I do not have a daughter”—that our little girl, Lily, clutched her stuffed rabbit and asked me what she was to him. That very night, I packed my bags. Robert Sterling, the patriarch who had welcomed me into the family years ago, gave me a handwritten statement. Outside the gates, Carter Hayes was waiting for me in his car. He said, “Lily is not a child anyone has the right to disown.” As I walked out of the Sterling estate, the heavy security gates clicked shut behind me. The wheels of my suitcase rolled over the cobblestones. My daughter fell asleep in her car seat, clutching a chipped wooden bead, her little brow still furrowed in her dreams. Later, everyone said I was crazy—that I was throwing away my status as Mrs. Sterling to rebuild my career from scratch. But they didn’t know that what truly brought me back to life wasn’t another marriage. It was the fact that I finally dared to say “no.” As I placed my hands back on the piano keys, I knew the path ahead was mine to make. This time, I didn’t need anyone’s protection. I only needed myself. **Chapter 1** **Madelyn’s POV** On the giant TV screen, Julian Sterling was holding a live press conference. A reporter held up a blurry photo, demanding to know if the heir to the Sterling empire had secretly married and had a child years ago. Dressed in a sharp, dark suit and wearing gold-rimmed glasses, Julian looked incredibly cold. He simply said, “I am not secretly married, and I do not have a daughter.” Sitting on the rug, Lily looked up at me, her eyes filled with confusion. The man on the screen continued. “I have been single all these years. The rumors out there are completely baseless. They’re affecting my family and my company, and I want them to stop immediately.” He spoke of his “family,” but he didn’t include us. Standing by the sofa, my hands clenched into tight fists. Julian and I had been married for years, but the Sterlings had kept our marriage strictly confidential. Julian’s grandfather, Robert, had claimed that the company’s IPO, stock options, and strategic alliances were too complicated. He told me to wait for the right time to go public. I was young back then. I thought as long as Julian loved me, nothing else mattered. Later, when Lily was born, Julian bought her beautiful little jewelry pieces, but he still refused to let her appear at any public Sterling events. When the other kids at preschool asked Lily about her dad, she could only tell them that her daddy was very busy. I had swallowed my pride so many times. But this time, Lily heard it with her own ears. Clutching her stuffed rabbit, her eyes slowly filled with tears. “Mommy, Daddy said he doesn’t have a daughter. Then… what am I?” I knelt down and pulled her tightly into my arms. I wanted to tell her that her dad was just doing it for work. I wanted to tell her that the adult world was complicated. But as those words reached my lips, they felt disgusting. I couldn’t lie for Julian Sterling anymore. My phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a message from Carter Hayes. He said he had canceled the arranged marriage his family had set up for him, and he had already transferred his future child’s trust fund into Lily’s name. The next text read: “If you’re ready to leave, I’ll come get you. Lily is not a child anyone has the right to disown.” Looking at those words, my eyes finally overflowed with tears. On the screen, Julian stood up and left the stage, his bodyguards blocking the swarming reporters. From beginning to end, he didn’t show a hint of guilt. He looked as if he had just shut down a minor corporate rumor. Lily buried her face in my shoulder and whispered, “Mommy, are we not allowed to tell anyone he’s my daddy anymore?” I stroked her soft hair, making up my mind. “You don’t have to tell anyone anymore,” I whispered. “If he doesn’t want to be your dad, he doesn’t get to be.” Lily didn’t fully understand, but she hugged me tighter. I looked back at the screen. The broadcast had switched back to financial commentators, who were praising Julian for his decisive crisis management. I suddenly found it incredibly absurd. The world always praised men for being cool-headed and rational, but nobody cared about the little girl crying in the living room because she had just been sacrificed for his PR. That night, I didn’t wait up for Julian. I turned off the TV, carried Lily upstairs, and for the first time, began packing our things to leave the Sterling mansion. Before entering the bedroom, I glanced at the family portrait hanging on the hallway wall. It was taken when Lily was one. The photographer had spent an hour coaxing Julian just to get him to sit next to us. In the photo, I was smiling softly with our daughter in my arms, while Julian looked like a stranger who had been forced into the frame, his shoulder keeping a distinct distance from mine. Back then, I excused it by telling myself he just wasn’t comfortable in front of cameras. Looking at it now, it felt like a warning from fate. I took the photo out of the frame. I didn’t rip it, nor did I smash it. I simply folded the half containing Lily and me, putting it in my bag. Julian’s half was left behind. I had to admit the painful truth: some pictures were never meant to have three people in them. I was just trying too hard to force a perfect family. Near the bottom of the drawer, I found a stack of unmailed birthday invitations. They were custom-made for Lily’s upcoming birthday. I had picked them out myself, hoping Julian would finally let us have a small dinner with close friends. But he had said the timing wasn’t right, so I locked them away. They had been sitting there for years. The edges of the paper had turned yellow, just like my repeatedly crushed expectations. I threw the invitations straight into the trash bag without a second thought. A child’s existence shouldn’t have to be validated by an invitation that was never allowed to be sent. **Chapter 2** **Madelyn’s POV** Halfway through packing, I realized that despite living in the Sterling mansion for so long, I owned almost nothing. The walk-in closet was filled with designer clothes Julian had ordered for me, the jewelry box held pieces handpicked by his mother, and even my credit cards were just secondary accounts linked to Julian’s black card. Those things were ridiculously expensive, but I didn’t want a single one of them. I only took our legal documents, a few casual clothes, Lily’s favorite storybooks, and the stuffed rabbit she slept with every night. Lily sat on the bed, her eyes still red, hugging her rabbit. “Mommy, are we going to Grandma’s house?” “We’re going to a safe place first, sweetheart.” I placed a book into the suitcase. “Grandma isn’t feeling well. Mommy needs to sort things out first, and then I’ll take you to see her.” “Will Daddy come find us?” My hands froze. If I had heard that question in the past, my heart would have softened. I would have told myself that Julian was just emotionally detached, that he just wasn’t used to showing affection. After all, he would bring back gifts from his business trips, and he had stayed up all night by her bed when she had a high fever. I used to use those tiny details to justify his coldness over and over again, until I almost believed my own lies. But a father can be quiet; he cannot publicly disown his child in front of millions of viewers. I zipped the suitcase and sat next to Lily. “If he wants to come find us, he has to learn how to apologize first.” Lily whispered, “But Daddy doesn’t like to apologize.” The words of a child are always the simplest, yet they cut the deepest. I hugged her tight. “Then we’ll let him learn slowly. We aren’t waiting around for him anymore.” Downstairs, I heard the maids moving around. Someone must have seen me packing and called Julian. I wasn’t surprised. Everyone in this house treated me with polite respect, but they all knew Julian was the only master who mattered. I was allowed to live here and be called Mrs. Sterling, but I had absolutely no say in where my daughter and I went. I pulled out my phone and messaged Carter. “I want to leave, but don’t come directly to the Sterling estate. Help me get a lawyer first.” Carter replied instantly. “The lawyer is already on his way. The car is ready too. Just give the word, and I’ll get you out.” Looking at the screen, my throat tightened. Carter Hayes was my best friend when we were teenagers. Our families used to be very close. After my father passed away, Carter was the one who helped me get through those dark days. Later, he went abroad, his family didn’t want us getting too close, and Robert took me into the Sterling home. We eventually drifted apart. I never expected that after all these years, the first person to step up and catch Lily and me would be him. A soft knock came at the door, and the butler’s polite voice sounded from outside. “Ma’am, Mr. Sterling is on his way back. He asks that you do not go to sleep yet.” I looked at my suitcase, knowing tonight wouldn’t be easy. I tucked Lily back into bed and whispered, “No matter what you hear later, don’t be scared. Mommy is right here.” Lily nodded obediently. I stood up and opened the door. The hallway lights were blindingly bright, but for the first time, I didn’t retreat back into the shadows. The butler stood there with his usual respectful face, but his words carried a clear warning. He said Mr. Sterling had instructed that since I was emotionally unstable these days, it would be best if I didn’t leave the house. I suddenly remembered how every time I wanted to make Lily’s existence public, the Sterling family would claim I was being too impatient, too sensitive, and unable to see the bigger picture. It turned out that whenever I tried to stand up for myself and my child, I was labeled “unstable.” I didn’t argue with the butler in the hallway. I simply told him to bring Lily’s passport and birth certificate to my room first thing in the morning. When he hesitated, I unlocked my phone, opened the voice recorder app, and calmly repeated my request. Seeing my phone, the butler’s expression shifted. For the first time, I realized I didn’t have to cry and beg Julian for permission anymore. I could record everything, consult a lawyer, and document every single attempt they made to restrict my freedom. Back in the room, Lily was still awake. She was lying on her pillow, trying to cover her stuffed rabbit’s ears with her hands, saying that way the rabbit wouldn’t hear that Daddy didn’t want her. My heart ached terribly, but I didn’t try to comfort her with lies like “Daddy didn’t mean it.” I sat on the edge of the bed and told Lily that if someone said hurtful words, it was okay to feel hurt, and crying didn’t make her a bad girl. Hearing this, Lily’s tears poured down, and she finally let herself sob out loud. At that moment, I realized what children needed wasn’t a fake, polished fairytale. They needed someone to acknowledge that their pain was real. **Chapter 3** **Madelyn’s POV** It was very late when Julian finally got home. The scent of rain clung to his dark coat, and his face was even colder than it had been on the broadcast. The butler followed behind him, barely daring to breathe. I stood on the second-floor landing, watching the man I had loved for so long walk up the stairs. He looked just as much of a stranger as he did on the television screen. “Are you packing?” he asked. I didn’t deny it. “I’m taking Lily and leaving.” Julian’s brows drew together. “Because of the press conference?” “Because you told the world you don’t have a daughter.” Julian took off his glasses, his tone carrying a trace of suppressed impatience. “That was just for the media. You know the Sterling Group is in the middle of a major merger. Seraphina Vance just got divorced, and every tabloid in the city is watching me. Letting the public know about a secret marriage and a child right now wouldn’t benefit anyone.” I looked him dead in the eye. “Does it benefit Lily?” He paused for a fraction of a second. “She’s too young to understand any of this.” “She understands that her father publicly disowned her.” Julian’s expression hardened. “Madelyn, don’t use our daughter to throw a tantrum.” Those words extinguished the very last spark of warmth in my heart. I realized Julian didn’t think he had done anything wrong at all. He just thought I was overreacting, being dramatic, and making his life difficult at an inconvenient time. “I am not throwing a tantrum,” I said. “My lawyer will contact you. We’ll handle the divorce and Lily’s custody through legal channels.” Julian looked at me as if I had just said something hilarious. “Divorce?” He stepped closer, towering over me. “Think carefully, Madelyn. Without the Sterling family, you and Lily are nothing.” I let out a soft laugh. “And what are we while staying in this house?” Julian was completely silenced by my question. At the end of the hallway, Lily stood by her bedroom door clutching her rabbit, her eyes wide with fear. She didn’t understand what divorce meant, but she understood her father saying we were nothing. Seeing our daughter, Julian’s face finally showed a brief flash of guilt. “Lily, go back to your room.” Lily didn’t move. She just whispered, “Daddy… am I not allowed to call you Daddy anymore?” Julian’s throat bobbed. Right then, his phone rang. Seraphina Vance’s name flashed across the screen. I saw it, and so did Lily. Julian hesitated for a brief second before answering. The woman on the other end sounded like she had been crying. Her voice was soft and fragile, saying her ex-husband was blocking her car outside the club, and she didn’t know who else to call. Julian frowned. “Stay inside. I’m on my way.” I watched him quietly. A child who had just been disowned by her father was standing right in front of him, yet he was rushing off to save another woman’s reputation. It wasn’t a life-or-death emergency; it was just a rich girl’s social embarrassment. Julian hung up and looked at the butler. “Watch her and Lily. Nobody leaves this house tonight.” Then, he turned to me. “We’ll talk when I get back.” I didn’t try to stop him. I simply picked up my crying daughter and completely let go of this man in my heart. I didn’t sleep in the master bedroom that night. I held Lily in her small twin bed, squeezing in beside her. Even in her sleep, Lily kept sobbing, her little hand gripping my shirt tightly. Looking at her tear-stained face, a wave of late guilt washed over me. I had always thought that if I just endured his coldness, at least my child would have a complete family. But if a “complete family” required my daughter to stay hidden, to keep quiet, and to bury her pain, then it was nothing but a beautiful, empty shell. Just before dawn, Julian sent me a text saying Seraphina was safe and telling me not to blow his media statements out of proportion. I didn’t even bother to reply. A child being publicly denied by her father wasn’t a minor issue. A wife being hidden away like a shameful secret wasn’t a minor issue either. In the morning, the maid brought breakfast upstairs as usual, softly advising me not to fight with Julian. She said Julian had come home so late last night, which proved he still cared about Lily and me. I listened to her familiar excuses and felt incredibly exhausted. Everyone in the Sterling mansion was an expert at translating Julian’s coldness into “love.” A single glance, him coming home, or a slightly less cruel word was immediately twisted into proof that he cared. But when Lily cried herself to sleep last night, not a single person dared to ask Julian why he couldn’t put his daughter first for once. **Chapter 4** **Madelyn’s POV** Shortly after Julian left, his mother, Miranda, arrived. She wore an elegant dark shawl, and Chloe, Julian’s younger sister, followed closely behind her. Seeing the packed suitcases in the hallway, both of their faces turned sour. Miranda spoke first. “Madelyn, Julian was stressed last night, and he might have been a bit harsh. Men have to protect their public image for the sake of the business. You shouldn’t take it personally.” I handed Lily over to the nanny, closed the bedroom door, and turned around. “Does protecting his image require him to deny his own daughter?” Miranda’s expression stiffened, but she quickly smoothed it over. “Lily is a Sterling, nobody is denying that. It’s just not the right time to make it public.” Chloe couldn’t help but sneer. “Madelyn, don’t be so greedy. Has Julian ever treated you poorly? The mansion, the luxury cars, the endless allowance—which of those did you go without? Seraphina just got divorced, and the media is watching their every move. You’re choosing this exact moment to cause drama just because you want him to make a public statement, don’t you?” I looked at her. “What does Seraphina’s divorce have to do with my daughter being publicly disowned?” Chloe blinked, then snapped in frustration, “Stop pretending to be naive! Julian has loved Seraphina since they were teenagers. If she hadn’t married someone else back then, do you honestly think you would have ever set foot in the Sterling family?” The room fell dead silent. Those words felt like a freezing needle, popping every single lie I had told myself over the years. I knew the name Seraphina Vance. She was Miranda’s dream daughter-in-law, and the most dazzling girl in Julian’s youth. But Seraphina had married someone else, and Julian had never shown any lingering feelings in front of me. I thought she was just an old friend from his past. Clearly, I was wrong. Miranda glared at Chloe but didn’t deny her words. She sighed. “Madelyn, we all know how things are. Julian married you because of Robert’s insistence, and because you were quiet and obedient. I’ll admit you’ve raised Lily very well. But the most important quality for a woman in your position is to know her place. Don’t humiliate yourself by fighting a losing battle.” I wanted to laugh. So, my years of patience were viewed as nothing but “being obedient” to them. My daughter and I staying in the shadows wasn’t a sacrifice; it was us “knowing our place.” Julian claiming to be single wasn’t a betrayal; it was just him saving face for Seraphina. I stood up. “Are you finished?” Miranda frowned. “What is that attitude?” “My attitude is very clear,” I said. “I am leaving the Sterling family, and I am taking Lily with me.” Chloe laughed mockingly. “Do you think you can just walk away with her? Lily is a Sterling. If Julian decides to fight for custody, what do you have to fight him with?” I looked at her coldly. “Then let him try.” Miranda’s face darkened completely. I didn’t bother being polite anymore. I opened the door to signal that they should leave. Before Miranda walked out, she turned back, the fake maternal warmth completely gone from her eyes, replaced by a cold warning. “Madelyn, don’t burn your bridges.” I stood by the door and whispered, “I didn’t burn this bridge. Julian Sterling destroyed it himself.” After Miranda left, Chloe walked back in and tossed a jewelry box onto the table. Inside was a diamond necklace Julian had given me for our anniversary years ago. Chloe said dismissively, “This necklace is worth a fortune. If you’re really leaving, you’d better leave it behind. We wouldn’t want things to get ugly when the lawyers start looking at the assets.” I looked at the necklace, which I had barely worn, and smiled. I walked over to the safe, opened it, and pulled out every single piece of expensive jewelry the Sterlings had ever given me, dumping them all on the table. Chloe, who had come in to humiliate me, was suddenly speechless. I told her that my lawyer would itemize everything and return whatever belonged to the Sterlings. I didn’t want a single penny of their money, and I was done letting them use these shiny rocks to pretend they had treated me well. What they owed Lily and me could never be paid in diamonds. By the time Chloe left, the smug look was completely gone from her face. Standing before the pile of glittering jewels, I felt a strange sense of relief. I used to be so terrified of being accused of gold-digging that I didn’t even dare to speak up when I was hurt. Now I realized that silence didn’t prove my innocence. I would return what wasn’t mine, and I would fight for what was. Those two things didn’t contradict each other. I didn’t want their money, but I would take back my dignity and my daughter’s future. **Chapter 5** **Madelyn’s POV** The next day, before Carter’s lawyer arrived in the city, we had a FaceTime call. The lawyer, Attorney Vance, was sharp and direct. He didn’t suggest making a huge scene right away. Instead, he wanted to confirm if Lily and I could move freely, if I had our documents, and if the Sterlings were actively holding us hostage. I answered his questions one by one. Vance listened carefully before speaking. “Don’t rush into a direct confrontation just yet. The Sterlings are on guard right now. If you try to walk out the front gate, their security might stop you. You need a window when Julian is away, and when the staff won’t dare to physically block you.” I understood. I wasn’t afraid of the Sterlings, but I was terrified of scaring Lily. She had already been hurt enough by that broadcast; she didn’t need to witness a physical tug-of-war between bodyguards and maids. Carter was on the video call too. He looked a bit leaner than I remembered, but his eyes still held that sharp, protective spark from his youth. Seeing him, my emotions became incredibly complicated. “You didn’t have to go that far with the trust fund,” I said softly. Carter leaned back in his chair, his tone casual. “I didn’t do it just to make a point to Julian. I did it because I wanted to. The Hayes family always obsesses over bloodlines, but I wanted to show them that loving a child has nothing to do with biology. It’s about having a heart.” My eyes welled up with tears. “Lily is very sensitive right now. I don’t want her to feel like she’s a burden to anyone.” “Then let her know she isn’t,” Carter said, looking directly into my eyes. “And neither are you, Madelyn.” His words wrapped around my aching heart like a warm blanket. After the call ended, I went to Lily’s room. She was placing her stuffed rabbit on a tiny chair, talking to it like a little teacher. “From now on, we can’t call him Daddy anymore. We have to call him Mr. Sterling. Mommy said we don’t have to force ourselves to love people who don’t love us back.” Standing at the door, my tears almost spilled over. I walked in and knelt in front of her. “Mommy also said it’s okay to feel sad, Lily.” Lily pouted, her bottom lip trembling. “Can I still miss Daddy sometimes?” “Yes, you can.” “But even if we miss him, we’re not going back, right?” I hugged her tight. “Even if we miss him, we are not going back.” Lily finally broke down, crying into my shoulder. Her cries were quiet and filled with hurt, breaking my heart into a million pieces. I held her close, gently stroking her back. In the past, I stayed because I was terrified of raising Lily without a father. But now I saw that having a father who refused to acknowledge her existence was the greatest damage of all. Later that evening, Julian called. He explained that Seraphina was in a terrible state because of her ex-husband’s harassment, and he was only helping her as an old friend. Then he asked if I had calmed down and if I had put my suitcases away. I listened to his smooth, rational explanation and simply said, “Lily cried until she fell asleep last night.” There was a long silence on the line. “I’ll come home and explain it to her.” “No need,” I said coldly. “You’ve already explained it to the whole world.” I hung up. My hand was trembling as I set the phone on the desk. Carter didn’t say anything immediately, but a few minutes later, he sent a voice note. “Madelyn, you don’t have to win beautifully. You just have to stand your ground.” I played his voice note twice, and my heart slowly stabilized. Julian had always criticized me for being too emotional, but Carter was telling me that it was okay to tremble and be hurt, as long as I didn’t back down. That night, I organized our documents into waterproof folders. Every time I packed an item, I crossed it off my checklist. I never knew leaving a house required so much preparation, but these tedious tasks actually made me feel grounded. Carter sent over a backup plan later that night. If the Sterlings confiscated our documents, his lawyer would immediately file for emergency replacements. If Julian came home unexpectedly, Carter would be waiting outside the estate gates, so I wouldn’t have to face him alone. If Lily got too scared or upset, we would pause and try again another day. Looking at the detailed, calm steps, the knot in my stomach finally untied. I wasn’t running away on a desperate impulse. I had a way out, a solid plan, and someone who respected my right to say “stop” at any moment. **Chapter 6** **Madelyn’s POV** Julian came home while I was feeding Lily dinner. There was only a simple salad on the table. Usually, Lily would excitedly ask if her dad was coming home for dinner. Today, she just kept her head down, counting the peas in her bowl without saying a word. The moment Julian walked into the dining room, the maids quickly retreated. “Lily,” Julian said, softening his voice. “I had to work last night. I didn’t mean to miss dinner with you.” Lily looked up at him and corrected him politely. “That’s okay, Mr. Sterling.” Julian’s face turned incredibly pale. I held my daughter’s spoon and said softly, “Let’s finish your dinner first, sweetheart.” Julian glared at me. “Did you teach her to say that?” “You taught her yourself,” I replied calmly. “On live TV.” Julian tried to suppress his anger. “Madelyn, she’s just a child. Are you really going to act this childishly and teach her to hate me?” “I don’t want her to hate anyone.” I looked up, meeting his cold gaze. “I just don’t want her to keep getting hurt by you.” The dining room turned freezing cold. Julian pulled out a chair and sat down, his tone turning dominant. “This ends now. I’ve already handled the media; there won’t be any more stories online. You and Lily will stay here as usual. Once the merger is finalized, I will arrange a family photo shoot and tell the public that Lily is a relative’s child we are raising.” I stared at him, genuinely wondering if I had misheard him. “A relative’s child?” “It’s the safest way for now,” Julian said smoothly. “She’s too young to care about labels anyway.” Lily’s spoon slipped from her hand, clattering against the ceramic bowl. I stood up immediately. “Get out.” Julian’s eyes narrowed. “Madelyn.” “I said, get out.” My voice was shaking, but I didn’t back down an inch. “Don’t say another word in front of our daughter.” Julian stared at me for a long time, as if realizing for the first time that I was capable of raising my voice at him. Right then, his phone rang again. It was Chloe. Her frantic voice came through the speaker, saying Seraphina was being harassed by her ex-husband at an exclusive art gallery opening. People were laughing at her, and she needed Julian to go and save her from the embarrassment. I heard every word. It wasn’t a physical threat. Seraphina was just losing face in front of her high-society friends. Julian hung up and grabbed his keys. He looked at the butler. “Make sure they stay inside tonight. Nobody leaves.” Then, he turned to me. “Don’t upset Lily anymore. We’ll talk later.” I watched him put on his coat and asked quietly, “Julian, is there ever a time when you will choose your daughter first?” He paused at the door, but he didn’t turn back. “Don’t mix business with personal matters.” The front door clicked shut. Lily kept her head down, her tears silently falling into her food bowl. I picked her up, my heart finally setting itself in stone. After Julian left, Lily reached over to the table and closed her music book. She didn’t cry. She just looked at me and asked, “Mommy, if someone always says ‘next time,’ does ‘next time’ ever actually happen?” My throat felt incredibly tight, and it took me a long time to answer. I told her it depended on whether that person truly wanted to show up. Lily nodded quietly, stuffed her music book into her little backpack, and said she wasn’t going to wait for his “next time” anymore. Her quiet acceptance broke my heart more than any loud crying ever could. Children don’t lose hope overnight. They lose it slowly, after reaching out their tiny hands so many times, only to bring them back empty. I held her backpack close, holding all of her crushed hopes along with it. I would never let my daughter grow up remembering her father as nothing but a string of broken promises. Later that night, I carefully examined the security system of the Sterling estate. The front gate, the side exit, the garage—every single path required the butler’s clearance. I used to think of it as high-security luxury. Now, I realized security could easily turn into a golden cage. I memorized the positions of every exit and asked the maid what time the sanitation trucks cleared the back gate. The maid froze, stuttering, too afraid to give me a straight answer. I didn’t press her, but I noted her reaction. Everyone here answered to Julian. I couldn’t count on anyone opening the gate for us out of pity when the time came. I packed a small backpack for Lily, putting in a change of clothes, a bottle of water, some snacks, and her music book. She didn’t know what we were doing, only giggling and saying it felt like we were preparing for a camping trip. I forced a smile, but my eyes burned. I was helping my daughter escape, not from poverty or a dangerous stranger, but from her own father and the house we were supposed to call home. The sheer absurdity of it was suffocating.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469242”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Since I was a child, I had always believed there was nothing in this world I couldn’t have. Because my parents had me when they were over forty, they spoiled me to the point where they would have plucked the stars from the sky for me if they could. At twenty, I fell head over heels for Julian Vance, a needy student funded by the Stone family, and used every means at my disposal to force him to marry me. Only after we married did I learn that he had someone he had loved in secret for years—the one who got away. Vivian Locke. His childhood sweetheart, a brilliantly talented design major who came from a poor background. I looked at the photos sent by the private investigator on my phone. They were sharing a passionate kiss in a rose garden. This tainted man… I didn’t want him anymore. Sienna’s POV So, I started targeting Vivian Locke. First, I reported Vivian’s studio for fire hazards, forcing it to shut down. Next, I bribed members of the media to run sensationalized stories about Vivian having a child out of wedlock and having loose morals. Finally, I even paid someone to forge evidence of Vivian plagiarizing overseas works, completely ruining her reputation in the industry. Julian Vance finally reached his breaking point. That day, I was arranging flowers in the living room, my shears snipping off a white rose. When he found me, he slapped the flowers right out of my hands. “Just how far are you going to take this?” he roared, furious. “What did Vivian ever do wrong? How did she offend you to make you target her like this? If you’ve got a problem, come at me!” I looked up and said nonchalantly, “Vivian Locke did nothing wrong. You are the one in the wrong.” His expression turned icy cold as he stared at me. “Julian Vance, let’s get one thing straight: I am your wife,” I said, putting down the shears, my tone lukewarm. “Yet in all the years we’ve been married, Vivian Locke has always been the only one in your heart. Do you even respect me as your lawful wife?” With a cold smile, I added, “So you’re the one at fault, Julian. You’re the one who forced my hand to target her.” Julian’s features tensed, his eyes dark and gloomy. “Do you have to be like this?” “Yes,” I said, tilting my chin up. “Julian, don’t forget that it was thanks to the Stone family that you got to where you are today. Your body, your heart, even your life belongs to me. So as long as Vivian Locke remains in your heart, I will never let her off the hook.” No sooner had the words left my mouth than Julian grabbed the fruit knife off the coffee table and plunged it into his own chest without a second thought. Blood quickly soaked through his shirt. His face paled at a visible rate as he asked in a raspy voice, “Then I’ll give you my life. Is that enough?” I froze in place. Seeing me remain silent, Julian pulled the knife out, preparing to stab himself a second time. Finally snapping back to reality, I lunged forward in a panic to press down on his wound, my eyes reddening as I glared at him in disbelief. “Are you insane?!” Cold sweat quickly beaded on Julian’s deathly pale face. Forcing himself through the excruciating pain, he said, “Didn’t you say… that without the Stone family, I wouldn’t be where I am today? That everything I have, including my life, belongs to you? Then I’m giving you my life… Is this… enough now…?” Warm blood gushed through my trembling fingers. Once Julian finished speaking, his vision suddenly went black, and he collapsed backward, losing consciousness. “Julian!!” I scrambled to catch him, but his weight dragged me down with him. The moment we hit the floor, I instinctively shielded him with my own body. My back slammed against the edge of the coffee table, sending stars dancing across my vision from the pain. Yet even as I gasped in agony, I didn’t push away the man lying on top of me. “Someone, help!” I screamed in sheer panic. “Call an ambulance!” The fluorescent lights in the hospital corridor were blindingly bright. The red light above the operating room had been glowing for two full hours. Julian’s mother, Mary, rushed over after hearing the news and slapped me right across the face. “Sienna Stone, I know your family funded Julian in the past, but he has never left you wanting for anything material all these years! Just how much longer do you plan on torturing him like this?!” Mary’s voice was so shrill it cracked. “Do you have to drive him to his grave before you’ll finally stop?!” My face was whipped to the side, a burning pain spreading across my cheek. I didn’t reach up to nurse it, nor did I offer any defense. Instead, I just stared down at my blood-stained hands. I couldn’t understand. How did things turn out like this? In the beginning, all I wanted was for him to spare me a glance, to care about me just a little bit more. Throughout our seven years of marriage, whenever I fell ill with a fever, he would bring in the best specialists in the city for a consultation, yet he never set foot in my room from start to finish. For every anniversary, the gifts he had his assistant deliver were always the latest designer jewelry, but not a single one had ever passed through his own hands. When we sat at the same dinner table, he would not say a single word throughout the meal, getting up to leave the moment he finished eating. I used to always tell myself that it was fine. As long as I treated him well enough and loved him enough, he would fall in love with me sooner or later. I had plenty of patience and time. Yet two years ago, Vivian Locke suddenly returned from abroad with a five-or-six-year-old child. That was the first time Julian ever lost his composure. He rushed out the door without even putting on his coat after receiving a call. I followed from a distance and saw with my own eyes as he held that frail woman tightly in his arms at the airport exit. After returning home that night, I smashed the entire living room in a fit of rage. When Julian returned and saw the mess all over the floor, he merely instructed the servants indifferently, “Clean it up.” Without so much as a glance at my hysterical self, he went upstairs and retired to his room. Later, when Vivian wanted a studio, he funded and helped her establish one. When Vivian’s child fell ill, he drove them to the hospital in the middle of the night and stayed by the bedside until morning. He even baked a cake with his own hands to deliver to her on her birthday. I saw all of this with my own eyes, which was why I started targeting Vivian Locke. I couldn’t comprehend it. I had the money, the looks, and I loved him deeply. In what way could I possibly be inferior to a woman like Vivian Locke, who had a child out of wedlock? Why could he be so incredibly good to Vivian, yet be so stingy that he wouldn’t even spare me a second glance? Until today— Seeing him go as far as stabbing himself with a knife, I suddenly understood. Perhaps I had been wrong from the very beginning. I thought feelings could be nurtured over time. I thought that as long as I was good enough, persistent enough, and loved him enough, I could eventually win over his heart. But some hearts simply can’t be warmed. Love is something where your investment never guarantees a return. “Fine,” I heard my own voice say, so calm that even I found it unfamiliar. “I will let him go.” His mother froze, as if she hadn’t heard me clearly. “What did you say?” I raised my head and repeated, “Just as you wish, I will divorce Julian Vance.” This marriage was forced by me in the first place anyway. So, the ones in the wrong were never Vivian Locke or Julian Vance. It was me. Then, I shall set him free.

Sienna’s POV Having said my piece, I turned and walked away without looking back to see Mary’s expression. Yet just as I rounded the corner at the end of the hallway, I saw Vivian Locke walking toward me. The moment she saw me, Vivian paused mid-step, a clear look of awkwardness and anxiety flitting across her face. “Ms. Stone… I heard Julian was hurt and is in surgery…” Vivian said cautiously. “I only wanted to come and check on him. If you mind, I’ll go back right now.” In the past, I would have told her to get lost and banned her from taking a single step near Julian. But now, I simply brushed past Vivian, my voice as faint as a breeze. “There’s no need. You stay and take good care of him.” Vivian stood frozen on the spot, seemingly unable to believe her own ears. By the time I stepped out of the hospital entrance, the sky outside had turned pitch black. I didn’t call the driver to pick me up, nor did I hail a taxi. I just walked aimlessly along the street. I recalled the summer I first met Julian Vance. Back then, I had just turned twenty. I went with my dad to attend the commendation ceremony for needy students funded by the Stone family. The youth on the stage wore a faded white shirt. His posture was as straight as a pine tree, his features cold and aloof like the snow atop a mountain peak. With just one look, I was hopelessly smitten. I began to pursue him like crazy. Yet when I sent him gifts, he returned them; when I invited him to dinner, he declined; when I blocked his path downstairs at his dorm to confess, he took a detour. Since childhood, I had believed there was nothing in this world I couldn’t have. So I was never discouraged. I used my connections to find out that his mother was sick and urgently needed a massive sum of money for surgery. And so, I had my father step in to tell him that if he married me, the Stone family would cover all medical expenses, fund his remaining studies, and provide him with the best platform for his career. He remained silent for three whole days. On the fourth day, he showed up in the living room of the Stone residence and said to me, “I agree to the marriage.” There was no proposal, no ring, and not a single word of affection. Yet back then, I was happy as a fool, believing that as long as we were married, everything would turn out fine. Over all these years, I truly did love him. I loved him so much that I couldn’t extricate myself, loved him so much that I forgot who I was, and loved him so much that I turned my own life into a laughingstock. But no matter how much I loved him, it was time to let go. I didn’t know how long I had been walking, but by the time I snapped out of it, I was standing before the gates of the Stone family villa. The lights in the living room were still on. I pushed the door open and walked in. My parents were talking, and when they saw me standing at the door looking such a disheveled mess, both of them stood up in shock. “Sienna? What on earth happened to you…” My mother quickly approached, and the moment she spotted the slap mark on my face, her voice cracked. “Who hit you? Where is Julian? Why isn’t he looking after you?” My father also stood up with a dark expression. “I’ll call him right now!” “There’s no need,” I stopped my father. “Dad, Mom, I’m getting a divorce.” The living room fell into sudden silence. My mother was the first to react, her eyes instantly turning red. “Your father and I have seen all the grievances you’ve suffered in the Vance family these past years. We wanted to ask you to come home, but we were afraid you wouldn’t be able to let Julian go, and that you wouldn’t be happy even if you did return…” My father remained silent for a long time before he finally asked, “Have you truly made up your mind?” “Yes.” “Then divorce him,” my father said, patting my shoulder. “My precious girl deserves the absolute best in this world. Since Julian is too blind to see your worth, let him regret it in the future!” My nose stung, and tears nearly spilled from my eyes. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted documents spread out on the coffee table. I bent down to pick them up and flipped through them. They were the company’s quarterly reports and several cooperation agreements. The further down I read, the colder my fingers grew. Several core projects had been snatched away, the cash flow was visibly strained, and one of the agreements was a letter of intent for cooperation with the Vance Group, with terms so harsh they bordered on extortion. I said in disbelief, “Julian is deliberately making things difficult for the Stone family’s company?” “It’s nothing,” my father smiled, feigning a lighthearted tone. “It’s just a small matter. Your dad can handle it.” But those dense rows of numbers and clauses pricked at my eyes like needles. When we got married, Julian was still a penniless, needy student. Everyone said he was marrying above his station. Later, when he graduated, instead of utilizing the platform the Stone family had paved for him, he chose to start from scratch and build his own business. Fearing they would hurt his pride, my parents had spent all these years quietly aiding his business behind the scenes. Now that the Vance Group was flourishing and his wings had grown strong, he had turned around to devour the Stone family’s businesses. Yet my parents hadn’t breathed a single word of this to me. I didn’t need to think twice to know why. My parents didn’t want to put me in a difficult position in the middle. After all, everyone knew how deeply infatuated I was with Julian. Looking at the gray hair at my father’s temples and the fine lines around my mother’s eyes, I could see they silently spoke of all the storms they had weathered on my behalf over the years. My eyes burned with tears, and my throat tightened with emotion. “Dad, Mom, I’m sorry. I was too foolish and immature in the past.” My mother embraced me. “It’s fine. None of that matters. The only wish your father and I have is for you to be happy and healthy forever.” My eyes grew even redder. “Dad, Mom, once I divorce Julian, let’s move to a different city.” This city with Julian is just too awful. I don’t want to stay here anymore. My father hesitated for less than three seconds before nodding with determination. “Alright! Once you get divorced, wherever you want to go, the three of us will go!” Two days later, news came that Julian had been transferred to a general ward. I took the drafted divorce agreement and headed to the hospital.

Sienna’s POV Walking to the door of the ward, I peered through the cracked opening. Vivian Locke was sitting by the bedside, holding sliced apples and feeding them to Julian piece by piece. He leaned against the headboard, and though his face was still a bit pale, he showed no resistance whatsoever, even slightly leaning forward to cooperate whenever she offered a slice. My fingers clenched instinctively. I remembered how every single time I tried to get close to him—even if it was just to adjust his collar—he would subtly shift away to avoid me. As it turned out, it wasn’t that he disliked being touched; he just disliked being touched by me. Whether someone loves you or not is truly painfully obvious. Just as I was about to knock, Vivian spotted me first and stood up in a flurry. “Ms. Stone, you’re here…” Vivian said, looking rather awkward. “I’ll let you two talk. I’ll go ask the doctor about Julian’s condition.” Vivian turned to leave, but Julian reached out and caught her by the wrist. “Didn’t the doctor just make his rounds not too long ago?” he said in a flat tone. “There’s no need to make up excuses to avoid anyone. This is a hospital, not the Stone family’s territory.” Vivian cast a hesitant look at me. “But…” “No buts,” Julian interrupted. “Just sit down.” Vivian hesitated for a moment but ultimately sat back down. “Okay.” My eyes fell upon Julian’s hand holding Vivian’s wrist. Those distinct knuckles and long, powerful fingers had never once held me that way. In the past, I probably would have rushed in, flung that hand away, and slapped Vivian Locke across the face. But this time, I didn’t. I didn’t even make a scene. “What are you doing here?” Julian finally cast his cold gaze toward me, his tone indifferent. “If you think I’m not hurt badly enough, I can do it again.” Stung by his words, I couldn’t help but ask, “Would you really rather harm yourself like that than spare me a proper glance?” Julian’s reply was heartless and cold. “I thought you were well aware before we got married that I didn’t love you.” He paused, then added, “I didn’t love you then, I don’t love you now, and I never will. So, how do you expect me to spare you a glance?” I clenched my fingers. “Since you believed you could never fall in love with me, why did you marry me in the first place?” Julian laughed, his chuckle exceptionally cold. “My mother was critically ill back then and urgently needed a massive sum of money for surgery. You used that moment to force me into marriage. Did I have a choice?” Just as I was about to speak, he continued. “Besides, on the eve of our wedding, it wasn’t as if I didn’t try to have a proper talk with you. “Back then, I told you I didn’t love you. I told you that you wouldn’t be happy marrying me, and that it wasn’t too late to back out if you regretted it. I said I’d treat that surgery money as a loan and pay you back with interest later.” 　　His gaze was as cold as frost. 　　”But how did you answer me then? You said if I dared to back out, you’d immediately withdraw the funds and stop the surgery. You used my mother’s life to threaten me. Did I have a choice back then?” 　　I was left speechless. 　　I did indeed say those words. 　　At the time, I was so swept up in the joy of marrying him, terrified that he would back out and that the grand wedding I had meticulously planned would fall through, which was why I said it. 　　I never imagined that those words would remain carved into his heart for seven years. 　　Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward, pulled a document out of my bag, and placed it on the nightstand beside his hospital bed. 　　”Then please do me a favor and sign this divorce agreement.” 　　Catching sight of the document, a flash of poorly concealed joy lit up Vivian’s eyes. 　　As for Julian Vance, he froze. 　　He glanced at the agreement, then looked up at me. “You want a divorce?” 　　”Yes.” 　　Julian scoffed instinctively. “Do you think I was injured so badly this time that I’ve lost my mind? Or are you being foolish enough to think I’d believe such nonsense about you wanting a divorce?” 　　He stared at me with sharp eyes. “We’ve been married for seven years, and you couldn’t bring yourself to divorce me. Just because I stabbed myself twice, you’re suddenly willing to let me go?” 　　For the past seven years, he had used the cold shoulder and silent treatment to push me away, hoping I would reach my breaking point and ask for a divorce first. 　　Yet I had stubbornly endured it all, never bringing it up once. 　　Now that he had resorted to self-harm and stabbed himself twice, I was suddenly willing to walk away. It was only natural that he didn’t believe me. 　　”I’m willing to divorce because I realize you were right,” I said calmly. “A forced marriage won’t bring happiness.” 　　Hearing this, Julian suddenly went still. 　　I smiled bitterly to myself. When he had said those words all those years ago, how had I responded? 　　I had arrogantly declared, “Who cares about happiness? Let’s get married first and figure that out later.” 　　I had also said, “Even death won’t tear us apart. Don’t even dream of divorcing me or shaking me off in this lifetime.” 　　But now, I knew a forced marriage wouldn’t bring happiness. 　　And I was going to divorce him. 　　I saw a flicker of a strange emotion pass through Julian’s eyes. 　　

Sienna Stone’s POV 　　 Julian quickly snapped out of it. 　　He grabbed the divorce agreement and, without even glancing at the contents, flipped straight to the last page and signed his name in a sweeping scrawl. 　　He then tossed the agreement in front of me, a mocking curl on his lips. “Ms. Stone has always been a woman of her word. You’d better actually go through with this divorce, unless you want people to look down on you.” 　　I bent down to pick up the paper. My fingertips lingered over his signature for a brief second before I smiled bitterly. “Don’t worry. I always mean what I say.” 　　Yes, I always meant what I said. 　　Julian sneered. He probably thought I was just putting on an act. 　　”Get some rest and recover from your injuries.” 　　Without another look at him, I turned and left the hospital room. 　　By the time Vivian ran out after me, I was already waiting for the elevator. 　　”Ms. Stone,” Vivian called out, catching up with quick, graceful steps. Her voice was gentle and polite. “Please don’t worry. I’ve already spoken with the doctor. Julian’s injuries aren’t serious. He just needs some time to recover.” 　　I stared at her in silence, saying nothing. 　　Seeming a bit unsettled by my gaze, Vivian continued, “Julian… he was just acting on impulse when he did something so extreme. Please don’t be angry with him. Getting a divorce over a minor disagreement like this really isn’t worth it.” 　　I suddenly smiled. “Did you really run out here just to convince me not to divorce him?” 　　Vivian froze. 　　”In reality, you just wanted to make sure if I’m actually divorcing him, or if I’m just playing another trick, right?” I looked at her with a half-smile. 　　Vivian’s face stiffened slightly, and she forced a smile. “Ms. Stone, I don’t know what you’re talking about… I truly don’t want you two to get a divorce out of anger, only for you to regret it later.” 　　”It’s just the two of us here, so why keep playing pretend?” I scoffed. “You want me to divorce him more than anyone else, just so he can be the step-father and play dad to your child.” 　　Vivian’s face froze completely, too embarrassed to utter a word. 　　I didn’t feel like listening to any more of it. 　　The elevator doors opened, and I walked right in, pressing the close button. 　　Vivian stood where she was, watching the elevator doors slowly close as her gentle expression crumbled bit by bit. 　　After handing the divorce agreement over to my lawyer, I spent the next few days finalizing the immigration paperwork for myself and my parents. 　　I didn’t visit Julian in the hospital again, nor did I make a single phone call or send a single text. 　　A week later, Mary sent me a message. 　　”Julian is being discharged today. As his wife, you didn’t even bother to show up. How does that look?” 　　I glanced at it but didn’t reply. 　　Over the years of our marriage, I had heard far too many accusations like this. 　　”You’ve been married for so long, yet there’s still no sign of a baby. What kind of wife are you?” 　　”You can’t even hold onto your own husband’s heart. For a woman, you really are a failure.” 　　In the past, hearing Mary say these things would make me sad and aggrieved, tossing and turning in the middle of the night, wondering if I truly wasn’t good enough. 　　But now, I realized I didn’t care at all anymore. 　　I recalled the absurd things I had done over the years just to make Julian love me and to have a child of our own. 　　I had worn the sexiest lingerie, parading in front of him, only for him to turn a blind eye. 　　When he was working in the study, I would bring in a glass of red wine, pretending to accidentally fall into his lap, only to be pushed away instantly. 　　I had sneaked into his bed in the middle of the night, only for him to pick me up and throw me out of the room. 　　He was like an iceberg, always shutting me out with a cold face. 　　The only two times we slept together were when he was completely drunk after business dinners, giving me an opportunity to take advantage of the situation. 　　Afterward, he only felt I was underhanded, growing even more distant from me. 　　We were husband and wife, yet sleeping together required him to be drunk. 　　I closed my eyes, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of my lips. 　　All these years, my love for him had truly humbled me to the dust. 　　But from now on, no more.

Sienna Stone’s POV The next time I saw Julian was at a business gala three days later. 　　I hadn’t originally wanted to attend. 　　But my father was getting old, and this business gathering was hard to decline, so I had no choice but to represent the Stone family. 　　Amid the clinking of glasses and social chatter, I mingled with the guests, a glass of wine in hand and a polite smile plastered on my face. 　　Until the doors of the banquet hall opened once again. 　　Julian walked in. 　　He wore a dark suit, his complexion having returned to normal after his recovery. In his arms, he held a five or six-year-old boy, with Vivian walking by his side. 　　The three of them stood together, looking exactly like a family of three. 　　My fingers tightened around my wine glass. 　　”Mr. Vance!” 　　Someone who didn’t recognize me stepped forward, clearly mistaking Vivian for Mrs. Vance, and flattered them with a smile. “This must be Mrs. Vance! Mr. and Mrs. Vance really are a perfect match. Your relationship is truly enviable.” 　　Vivian looked surprised and waved her hands in denial, but she didn’t actually open her mouth to clarify. 　　Nor did Julian correct the misunderstanding. 　　Instead, he took the opportunity to introduce her. “This is Vivian Locke, a highly talented jewelry designer who has her own independent studio. Although her brand isn’t widely known yet, her designs are quite popular among young people. If you ever have a need in the future, you can reach out to her.” 　　Understanding the hint immediately, the guest smiled and began flattering Vivian. 　　Standing not far away, I took all of this in. 　　I saw through it instantly. 　　Julian had brought Vivian here to network. 　　He was paving the way for her career. 　　I remembered how, many years ago, when Julian’s career was just starting, I had used the Stone family’s name to network and build connections for him everywhere. 　　For my sake, my parents had also helped him immensely behind the scenes. 　　Yet in the end, once he succeeded, he turned around and imposed harsh terms on his business dealings with the Stone family, clearly giving my parents a hard time because of me. 　　And now, he was bringing another woman to build bridges for her career. 　　I withdrew my gaze and took a sip of my wine. 　　I suddenly felt that the love I had desperately clung to for so many years was nothing but a joke. 　　Refusing to look in their direction again, I turned and resumed my conversations with other guests. 　　Halfway through the gala, having finally finished my rounds of socializing, I wanted to find a quiet corner to sit down and rest my feet. 　　But the moment I turned around, I bumped unexpectedly into a firm chest. 　　Julian had approached behind me at some point. 　　I frowned, looking up at him. “Is there something you need?” 　　My cold tone made Julian’s brow furrow. 　　He fell silent for two seconds before speaking. “Vivian’s studio has just started. She needs resources and connections. Since I have the ability to give her a leg up, I brought her here. Don’t target her over this.” 　　Hearing this, I understood completely. 　　So he was afraid I would pick on Vivian again out of jealousy. 　　I gave a faint reply. “Who you choose to network with is your business. I don’t care.” 　　After all, we would be divorced soon anyway. 　　However, Julian’s frown deepened. 　　”Though,” I paused, then added, “since you’ve approached me, I happen to have something to ask you as well.” 　　”What is it?” 　　”Regarding your cooperation with the Stone family, can you change the terms?” I asked solemnly and earnestly. “I won’t target Vivian anymore, so can you stop giving my parents a hard time because of our personal grievances? Stone Corporation isn’t what it used to be, and they are getting old. They don’t have the energy to deal with unnecessary business troubles.” 　　Julian fell silent for a moment. 　　The reason he had targeted the Stone family’s company before was indeed because I had repeatedly gone after Vivian, prompting him to strike back. 　　Since I was promising not to cause trouble for Vivian anymore, he naturally wouldn’t make things difficult for the Stone family. 　　Moreover, the Stone family had supported him in the past, and he was not an ungrateful man. 　　”I see,” Julian said. “I’ll have the terms of the agreement modified and sent over to Stone Corporation.” 　　”Alright.” 　　I gave a brief nod and turned to leave. 　　”Wait.” 　　Julian suddenly called out to stop me. 　　I stopped and looked back at him. 　　”Why is there such a large bruise on your back?” He frowned. “When did you get hurt?” 　　I froze. 　　How rare. 　　Throughout all our years of marriage, when I once ran a high fever for days and was completely out of it, he had merely called a doctor for me and then ignored me, never offering a single word of concern. 　　Now that I had decided on a divorce, he was miraculously showing concern over a little bruise. 　　Was this some sort of pity care he was handing out? 　　Just as I was about to say something, Vivian suddenly ran over in a panic. “Julian! This is bad, Ethan is gone!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469241”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My obsession, Ethan Sinclair, fell in love with his tutor—a woman ten years older than him. She was vibrant, wild, and radiating youth. She was everything I wasn’t. I was just a coward hiding in the shadows. She introduced him to a world of thrills, dragging him into her crazy adventures. They would kiss at the highest point of the Ferris wheel, and hold each other tightly in private pools… Later, their secret affair was exposed to the world. No one knew I was the informant. She vanished into a snowy night, leaving her location in a single message only to me, asking me to pass it to him. I smiled and agreed. Then, I deleted her sixty-second voice memo permanently. That night, Ethan pounded on my door in the middle of a raging blizzard. His eyes were bloodshot as he fell to his knees before me. He was broken, hysterical, and completely lifeless. “She’s your aunt, Elena. You must know where she went. Please, just tell me. I’m begging you.” I smiled, gently closing the door, and pointed him in the exact opposite direction. He rushed into a cab, chasing a ghost. And just like that, they missed each other forever. I stayed by his side through his darkest eight years, watching him drown in near-depression. Finally, I got the words I had waited a lifetime for. “Let’s just settle for each other, Elena.” But eight years later, she returned. With his child. Ethan threw a divorce agreement in my face without a single glance back. Only then did I realize… Stolen happiness always ends in the most humiliating way.

My mother was a gold-digging maid in a wealthy household. She seized her chance when the master of the house was dead drunk, got herself pregnant, and ran away. A year later, she crashed a high-society charity gala, holding me—a drooling baby who couldn’t even control her bladder. “This is Mr. Vance’s child! That night, he was red-faced, dragged me into his bed, and made love to me!” “I’ve only had one man! This baby is his! If you don’t take us in, I’ll leak this to the tabloids tomorrow!” Mrs. Vance despised her vulgarity and ignorance. She wrote a fat check to get rid of her. My mother got what she wanted—enough money to secure a life of luxury. Mrs. Vance looked down at me, abandoned on the cold floor, her voice icy. “Take the child.” My mother didn’t want a useless tagalong. She only cared about the cash. “Since she’s a Vance, she’s your responsibility now. Do whatever you want with her.” As if afraid they would take the money back, she grabbed the check and bolted. Mrs. Vance wanted to throw me into the slums to let me rot, but Mr. Vance stopped her. “Let’s keep her for now. If she grows up ugly, we throw her out then.” “If the family runs into financial trouble later, we can always marry her off for an alliance.” And so, I stayed in the Vance mansion. My birth was nothing but a tool. A tool for my biological mother to get rich, and a backup plan for the Vance family to secure their long-term interests. In that entire mansion, my existence was the dirtiest, most shameful secret. Mrs. Vance hated the sight of me, and Julian, the young heir of my age, never gave me a decent look. For over a decade, I was a ghost. An outsider. Anyone could mock me, and anyone could step on me. Even the maids complained about having to feed a nameless stray like me. “You’re not even pretty, and you don’t even know how to kiss up to Mr. and Mrs. Vance. Just wait until they dump you!” “Who are you crying for? Remember, when you see them, you smile.” So, I learned to smile. When they cursed at me, I smiled. When they slapped me, I smiled. When they kicked me, I smiled. Until one day, Julian and his friends ripped my textbooks to shreds and threw them into the frozen pond. I couldn’t smile anymore. “Look at you, a born beggar who only knows how to wag her tail. A stupid bitch with no mother to love her. Just a piece of trash.” I stood there, frozen. I opened my mouth to fight back, but I couldn’t find the words. Should I cry? That would only make them happier. They all said my mother was a whore, and I was just a little whore she spat out. So, I chose to smile again. Seeing my blank smile, they lost interest. “Forget it, she’s literally brain-dead. No fun at all.” I had no friends. Books were my only company. Julian crossed his arms, looking at me with a smirk. “Well, the pond is frozen anyway. Go get your trash yourself!” They watched me. They wanted to see what I would do. Without a word or a tear, I took a step onto the ice. But within three feet, the ice cracked. I plunged straight into the freezing, dark water. As the icy water rushed into my nose and throat, my survival instinct kicked in. I thrashed wildly, screaming for help. On the bank, Julian realized he had gone too far. He panicked. “Oh my god, she fell in!” “What do we do? I can’t swim!” “If something happens to her, my parents will kill me!” “Let’s just run! She walked out there herself. If anyone asks, we know nothing!” Their voices faded as they argued, but not one of them reached out a hand. Their muffled voices drifted away. I opened my eyes under the water. The sky above was blindingly bright. At that moment, I became strangely calm. I had spent my whole life living like a rat in dark, damp corners. Standing, sitting, lying down. I was terrified of eye contact. Terrified of attention. I thought if I kept my head down, I would be safe from harm. But I had already crawled so low. Why wasn’t it enough? I didn’t understand. What else did I have to do for them to love me? I didn’t want to try anymore. It was pointless. Suddenly, a commotion broke out above the ice. “What are you guys doing?” “Someone’s in the water! Save her!” Ten-year-old Ethan Sinclair ordered his bodyguard to pull my shivering body out of the depths. He stood there with a cold face, lecturing Julian. “She is your sister, Julian. No one chooses their birth. How can you blame an innocent girl for things she can’t control?” I lay on the frozen ground, gasping, greedily inhaling the freezing air. The midday sun beat down on me. Through my numb, stiff body, I felt a piercing warmth seep into my chest. He said no one chooses their birth. He said I was innocent. Julian stamped his foot in anger. “Her mother ruined my family’s reputation! Do you know how it feels to have everyone laugh at me for having a rat for a sister?” Ethan let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Then stop listening.” “Choosing to join the bullies is your own choice.” After that day, I became Ethan’s shadow. Julian was terrified of Ethan, who was three years older. Every time they tried to corner me, I would hide behind Ethan. He would always stand in front of me, his face stern. “If anyone bullies you again, tell me. I’ll protect you.” He was wonderful, but he was always distant and aloof. He was always busy, studying every single day, never taking a breath. But when Julian hung my skirt on a high branch to humiliate me, Ethan put down his books and climbed the tree to get it back. When they put dead bugs in my locker, he silently bought me new school supplies… It didn’t matter if everyone else hated me. As long as Ethan didn’t.

I began to develop a sick craving for Julian’s bullying. Because that was the only way I could justify running to Ethan. And so, we spent over a decade together. Year after year, I watched the love in my heart bloom into a dark, heavy flower. But during my junior year of high school, Julian stole my lunch card and emptied every cent on it. After all these years, tormenting me was still his favorite game. But my tears had run dry. I had become numb. He announced to the whole class, “My sister is buying Starbucks for everyone today! Grab whatever you want!” He knew I wouldn’t make a scene. I didn’t have the power to. My eyes were blurry with hunger, but my heart fluttered with the joy of having an excuse to see Ethan. With a smile on my face, I pushed open his bedroom door. But before I could step in, a sweet scent of grapefruit hit my nose. Behind the grand piano, two figures were pressed together. The sound of wet, breathless kissing filled the quiet room. “Ethan, stop… someone’s here,” a soft, breathless female voice murmured. It was a beautiful, young voice. It was quiet, but standing at the door, I heard every syllable. I instantly knew what was happening. It sounded just like the bad boys and girls kissing in the school alleys. Ethan was kissing another woman. The smile on my face slowly died. I could hear my own heartbeat, loud and wild, bordering on insane. The room was dimly lit. I stood frozen in the doorway. The room fell silent. I knew they were waiting for me to be smart enough to leave. “Where did Ethan go?” I asked loudly, mimicking a clueless girl, and took a heavy step inside. The breathing in the room hitched. “Oh, I guess he’s not here.” I pretended I had seen nothing, slowly pulling the door shut. Inside, a raspy, low voice whispered, “See? I told you she didn’t hear anything.” “Vivian… let’s keep going, okay?” I stood by the oak tree outside Ethan’s house until midnight. What were they doing in there? Kissing her nose, her lips, biting her neck? What else? The jealousy taking root in my chest sent a sharp, agonizing pain through my heart—a pain worse than any blow Julian had ever dealt me. Ethan was the golden boy, the envy of everyone. I had been by his side for years, and I had never seen him look at a girl. He never touched women. So I had proudly told myself that I was the closest girl to him. But what if someone else had already claimed him? The cigarette butt burned my fingertips. I looked at the pile of ashes at my feet and let out a silent, cold laugh. To wash away the bitter taste in my mouth, I pulled a sour candy from my pocket and popped it in. Orange flavor. Sour. When life is bitter, you always crave something sweet. But things never go your way. I forced myself to stop thinking and waited for the woman to come out. I needed to see what kind of woman had captured Ethan’s heart. The biting wind whipped my face, but when Vivian’s face appeared in the streetlight, my heart sank to the freezing ground. She was Mrs. Vance’s younger sister—my step-aunt. A brilliant graduate from an Ivy League school, and Ethan’s private tutor. She was indeed beautiful, vibrant, and incredibly kind. Vivian never forgot to buy me Christmas gifts, and she never ignored me like Mrs. Vance did. But she was ten years older than Ethan. That night, I smashed every gift she had ever given me. I ripped them to shreds and threw them in the trash. Whatever affection I had for her turned into pure, unadulterated hatred the moment she stole Ethan. I spent almost all my savings hiring a private investigator to take photos of them. I didn’t care if I had to starve myself. A few days later, Julian stole my lunch card again. “Give it back,” I said, glaring at him with bloodshot eyes. It was the first time I had ever looked him in the eye. “Oh? You’re actually talking back to me now? Look who got a backbone.” This time, I fought him like a wild animal. My sharp nails dug into his face. I held a utility knife, hovering just an inch from his eye. In Julian’s terrified dark eyes, I saw my own reflection—a raving lunatic. For the first time in his life, he backed down. I won the fight, but I couldn’t escape the punishment from my stepparents. The night I was forced to kneel at the foot of the stairs, Ethan didn’t show up. In the past, whenever I was punished, he would secretly send a maid with ointment. But that night, he was in the pool with Vivian. Looking at the photos the PI sent me, I carefully cut Ethan’s face out. As for Vivian, I crumpled her face, tore it to pieces, and stabbed it repeatedly with a knife. I hated her. I hated her for stealing my light. I opened the metal box hidden deep in my closet. It was filled with little things Ethan had given me over the years—my deepest, darkest desires. I calmly pulled out a tube of ointment that was almost empty. I sliced my own knee with a knife, and then carefully applied the cream. “Ethan, you do care about me.” “Only when I’m hurt, you show up.” I stared at the empty doorway with hope. But after a minute, my smile crumbled. I threw the metal box across the room. In this tiny, suffocating room, I didn’t even have the courage to scream. He wasn’t coming. My sun had been stolen by a filthy thief. I packed up all the evidence. I dropped the thick envelope of photos into the Sinclair family’s mailbox. I took off my gloves and adjusted my hood. It was going to snow again. This year, there wouldn’t be a third person standing between us. No one can steal… My sun.

As expected, Ethan’s parents went ballistic when they found out about the affair. They ordered them to break it off immediately. Ethan, who had been the perfect, obedient son his whole life, rebelled for the first time. “You’ve always treated me like Harry’s ghost! I’ve never had a single second to breathe!” “All these years, I’ve lived like a robot! Do I even have my own mind?” “I just love her. It’s not a crime!” That day, with a bright red handprint on his cheek, he stubbornly packed a single suitcase and walked out. With a smug smile, I passed him at the gate. But my smile froze when I saw his face. I asked him, “Where are you going?” His mother chased him to the door, screaming hysterically. “Ethan! If you take one more step, we are disowning you!” Such harsh words didn’t make him turn back. It only made him more resolved. “Harry is dead! You projected all your obsession onto me! I am Ethan! Open your eyes! I will never be Harry!” “You drove my brother to his grave. Now is it my turn?” This wasn’t the first time I had heard that name. I had heard Mrs. Vance gossip about it before. “If Harry were still alive, Ethan wouldn’t have to carry such a heavy burden.” Mrs. Sinclair stood at the door, speechless. She covered her face and sobbed. That name was a taboo, a permanent thorn in her heart. The boy’s silhouette was so determined, and between him and me, there was a clear, uncrossable line. I ran after him, crying, grabbing his sleeve. “Ethan, are you leaving?” “Who will protect me when they bully me?” “Please don’t go…” My begging didn’t make him hesitate for even a second. He gently but firmly pulled his arm away. “Elena, I can’t protect you anymore.” “You have to learn to stand on your own.” Those words felt like a dagger to my heart. My perfect plan had failed. He didn’t have me in his eyes. He wouldn’t stay for me. It shouldn’t be like this. I stared at him, forcing a small smile, my hands trembling as I stuffed all my cash into his palm. “Okay. I will.” “Take care of yourself out there.” I didn’t care about the bullying. One more day, one less day, it made no difference to me. But I couldn’t let Ethan leave my sight. And more importantly, I couldn’t let him find out what I had done. And the twisted, dark obsession I had for him. I thought a pampered rich boy like Ethan would crawl back within a week. But he held out for two months. The Sinclair family cut off all his credit cards. He went to work at construction sites, washed dishes at restaurants, and served drinks at nightclubs. He threw away all his pride and never looked back. With Ethan gone from our neighborhood, the bullies came back. When they beat me, I didn’t even cover my face. One night, covered in bruises, I dragged myself to Ethan’s tiny, cramped apartment. Through the foggy window, I saw them holding each other tightly. Vivian saw me and rushed to pull me inside. “Oh my god, Elena… what happened to you?” Her eyes were filled with genuine worry. She grabbed a first-aid kit and gently applied medicine to my cuts. I stared at her beautiful, kind face, saying nothing. If she hadn’t stolen Ethan, maybe I would have liked her. “Elena, take your money back. I’m doing fine,” Ethan said, pushing the crumpled bills back to me. “I’m not as miserable as you think.” “Just take care of yourself.” I clutched the crumpled bills, my nails digging into the paper. But I want you to be miserable. I want you to be so broken that you have to give up this useless romance. Taking the money back meant I was losing my only connection to him. I was being pushed back into the shadows. I had no excuse to see him. I couldn’t accept that. Tears spilled over, stinging the cuts on my face. “So I’m the only miserable one here.” For a split second, a flash of hatred toward Ethan flared up in my chest. If you couldn’t be the savior of my world, why did you give me hope just to drag me into the abyss? Ethan and Vivian panicked, trying to wipe my tears. “Elena, we didn’t mean it like that…” I shoved Vivian’s hand away, my voice dripping with venom. “Don’t touch me. We are not the same.”

After that, I went through four or five boyfriends. They were immature, arrogant, fake… I didn’t even know what I was looking for. Maybe a shadow of Ethan. But none of them had it. I grew tired, bored, and empty. No one could replace Ethan. Just like no one could replace Vivian in his heart. Ethan refused Vivian’s money and his family’s money. He had to pay rent and study at the same time. Before his exams, he got into a fight at his part-time job. Some thugs broke his right arm with a chair. He completely missed his Harvard admission exams. Of course… I was the one who paid those thugs. Mrs. Sinclair couldn’t take it anymore. While Ethan was hospitalized, she literally fell to her knees in front of Vivian. “Please leave him. You two don’t belong together. I won’t let my son ruin his life!” “Get out of his life. You will only drag him down.” “Do you want me to die right in front of you? Have you no shame? He cannot have any stains on his record!” Ethan couldn’t have any stains. He was a luxury product waiting to be sold. If he got dirty before he was put on the market, his value would drop. Vivian stood on the hospital balcony in the freezing wind all night. As the snow began to fall, she finally gave in. Before she left, she blocked and deleted everyone. For Ethan, she left a sixty-second voice memo. “Can you play this for him?” she asked me. I promised I would. But the moment she turned around, I hit the permanent delete button. He would never hear it. When Ethan was discharged and went back to his apartment, everything belonging to Vivian was gone. He lost his mind. Ignoring the raging blizzard, he dragged his broken arm all the way to the Vance mansion. He begged Mrs. Vance, he begged me, he even fell to his knees in the snow. The boy knelt on the white snow, wearing nothing but a thin shirt, snow piling on his hair and shoulders. His face was flushed red from the cold, but his eyes were filled with desperate hope. It was the first time I had ever seen him so broken, so unhinged. “Elena, you know where she went, don’t you? Please, tell me! I’ll go crazy without her!” The first time Ethan ever begged me, it was for another woman. Watching his agonizing pain, a twisted sense of joy washed over me. This was his punishment for leaving me. But after the joy, came a crushing emptiness. His love for her was deeper than I could ever imagine. So, I lied to him. Ethan muttered a quick thank you and ran off into the dark. Watching him disappear, I collapsed onto the snow. It was so cold. Just like when I was ten and fell into the frozen pond. Even the spot where I lay was the same. But this time, there was no light, and no Ethan. “Don’t go. You two will never have a happy ending.” “Ethan! Don’t go!” After a long time, I covered my face and laughed like a madwoman. Go ahead. Run. You’re heading in the complete opposite direction anyway. I pressed my arm over my eyes, hot, salty tears sliding down my temples. I couldn’t count how many tears I shed. When I was five, I swore I would never become a liar like my mother. But today, I told the biggest lie of my life. Looking at him kneeling in the snow, it felt like years ago when the sun framed him like a savior. Back then, his hand was warm, pulling me out of the freezing water. Now, his hand was colder than the snow. And I was the one who pushed him in. How wonderful, Ethan. Now, we are both freezing.

Ethan returned, looking like a corpse. As expected, he didn’t find Vivian. He kept his head down, his voice raspy and broken. “Are you happy now, Mom? She’s gone. I can’t find her.” He was back. But he locked himself in his room, refusing to eat or drink. But what could he do? Even if he starved himself, his family just put him on an IV drip. They would keep him alive. Even if he was just an empty shell with no soul. When I realized he was trying to slit his wrists in the bathtub, I rushed into his house with his favorite food. Seeing the bathtub filled with blood and the pale, lifeless boy, I screamed. I ran out of the room, tumbling down the stairs, bleeding from my forehead. Even though my body was covered in bruises, I couldn’t stop. This shouldn’t be the ending. He was supposed to give up on Vivian, not die for her! Why! Why would he die for her! I didn’t understand, and I wouldn’t allow it! He was in a coma for three days. His parents looked like they had aged ten years. When he finally woke up, his mother slapped him hard across the face. “You ungrateful brat! If you want to die, do it cleanly! Why are you doing this to us? Are you trying to drive us insane?” “Your brother traded his life for yours! What right do you have to die?” Ethan stared at the ceiling for a long time, tears soaking into his pillow. I stood by his bed, watching him. I gently wiped his tears away. Seeing him cry, my tears fell too. His voice was hoarse and incredibly exhausted. “Elena… talk to me.” For the first time, he let me see the fragile soul hidden beneath his arrogant, perfect exterior. “Okay. I’m listening.” After his parents left, he opened up to me for the first time about his brother. “My brother, Harry, carried our entire family on his shoulders. But he… he just fell in love with an ordinary girl.” “I was three years old when I heard my parents screaming at him.” He spoke in a flat, emotionless tone. “An arranged marriage is your destiny, Harry. You have no choice.” Harry looked at the empire he had built with his own sweat and blood. Now, his parents were forcing him to abandon his first love of ten years. For the first time, he rebelled. He ran away and married the girl he loved. The two brothers had ended up on the exact same path. “After my brother left, my parents started grooming me. They called him a traitor, ungrateful, and told me never to be like him.” Back then, he didn’t understand. Why his brilliant, perfect brother had suddenly become a taboo, a failure. “Later, during my mother’s birthday party, some business rivals they had offended hired thugs from the black market. They kidnapped me and locked me on a boat rigged with explosives.” Harry wasn’t even supposed to be at the party. His parents had lied about being sick to trick him into coming back, intending to drug him and throw him into the bed of a wealthy heiress who fancied him. Ethan’s eyes turned red as he spoke. “My sister-in-law realized something was wrong. She tried to help me escape, but we were both captured.” The memory of the fire that day had haunted Ethan for over a decade. The kidnappers gave Harry a choice. One had to die. “My parents fell to their knees, begging Harry to choose me, his little brother.” “They screamed, ‘Harry! He is your own brother! How can you watch him die?’” Harry broke down. Looking at his wife and his family, he couldn’t choose. He couldn’t… “His wife couldn’t bear to see him suffer. She bit her tongue and committed suicide.” “Harry traded himself to get me back.” By the time the police arrived, Harry secretly detonated the bomb. In the massive explosion and fire, he and his wife were united forever.

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On Christmas Day, my “rich socialite” girlfriend Chloe wire-transferred one million dollars to my account. She did it just to force me to call in sick so I could spend Christmas with her. Everyone envied me for landing such a wealthy girlfriend. But they had no idea. At our wedding, she vanished into thin air. And her family didn’t look like grieving in-laws. They looked at me with pure, unadulterated hatred. They weren’t demanding I find their daughter. They were demanding I give them back the million dollars. “If it weren’t for that million dollars, we would never have agreed to this wedding!” “If you don’t give us the money today, believe me, I will end your life right here!” I was cornered by them, desperately trying to explain that I had already sent the million back to Chloe. But they wouldn’t listen. “She ran away, so you’re paying it back!” Only then did I realize that Chloe was never some billionaire’s daughter, and that million dollars wasn’t her pocket money. I couldn’t produce the money. In the end, they beat me to death right there in the wedding hall. But when I opened my eyes again, I was back on Christmas Day.

Before I could even process what was happening, my phone started ringing loudly. Seeing the caller ID, the hair on my arms stood on end. I remembered my past life clearly. The nightmare that ruined me started with this exact phone call. So, in this life, I would not let the tragedy repeat itself. I took a deep breath, composed myself for a few seconds, and answered. Before I could say a word, Chloe’s bossy voice blasted through the speaker: “Ethan, I order you to buy a ticket and come see me right now. Spend Christmas with me!” In my past life, I told her I was still at work. I had told her I would come over after my shift. I had explained that we had an incredibly important meeting today and I couldn’t slip away. But Chloe, playing the part of a spoiled, rich heiress, didn’t seem to understand how important my job was to me. She immediately wired me a million dollars. In a flashy, arrogant tone, she had said, “It’s just a day off. I’m not telling you to quit!” Before I could argue, she added: “If that’s not enough, I’ll send more!” Helpless, I had taken the day off to go to her. Afterward, I didn’t touch a single cent of that million. Yet, that very million cost me my life. This time, I was going to change my approach and reject her outright. So, I spoke up. “I have a highly critical project to finish today. I can’t take time off. I’ll come see you in a couple of days.” Of course, I had no intention of actually seeing her. But breaking up with her right this second would be too abrupt. Hearing this, Chloe immediately threw a tantrum. “What’s more important? Your stupid job, or me?!” If this were my past life, I would have coaxed her, telling her she was the most important thing in the world to me. We hadn’t been together long, and we were still in the honeymoon phase. Back then, I thought her bratty attitude was cute. But that was my past life. Today, I had a completely different mindset. So, without hesitation, I said, “My job, obviously.” Predictably, Chloe hung up on me in a rage. I let out a long sigh of relief. But a second later, a notification popped up at the top of my screen. It was an alert from my banking app. Account Notification: A wire transfer of $1,000,000.00 from Chloe Jenkins has cleared. I frowned, immediately standing up. Right then, a text from Chloe popped up on Snapchat. [I sent you a million. If you really love me, take the day off and come. If you don’t want to, you can keep it.] I quickly tried to call her, but she had already switched off her phone. I tried to wire the money back, but my account had a daily transfer limit. It seemed that even in this life, Chloe was determined to dump this million dollars on me. Her goal from start to finish was never to have me spend Christmas with her. It was to get this million dollars into my bank account. I didn’t know where she got that money. But having a second chance at life, I was absolutely not going to let her scheme succeed. I was not getting dragged into this storm again!

I didn’t care about my job anymore. I immediately asked for emergency leave and called an Uber to the bank. I told the teller I wanted to reject and reverse the incoming wire transfer. Following the bank staff’s advice, I tried calling Chloe again. Unsurprisingly, she refused to pick up. But I insisted on returning the funds. With the bank’s assistance, the million dollars was finally reversed and sent back to the originating account. Right after that, I had the banker close my account entirely. During this process, my phone buzzed several times in my pocket. I ignored it. It wasn’t until I walked out of the bank that I pulled it out to check. Sure enough, Chloe, who had been completely unreachable minutes ago, was now active. She had spammed me with nearly ten missed calls. I could practically feel her panic through the screen. I let out a mocking laugh. When her phone call came in once more, I finally slid the screen to answer. Instantly, Chloe’s hysterical voice screamed through the receiver. “Ethan! What the hell did you do?! Why did you reject the wire?!” “Why can’t I send it back to you?! What are you doing?!” She sounded furious, as if I was the one who had betrayed her. “Ethan, send me another account number right now, or I swear I’m going to lose my mind!” Faced with her rage, my heart was strangely calm. “Chloe, where did this million dollars actually come from? Why are you so desperate to dump it in my account?” In my past life, ever since I met Chloe, she had carefully crafted this persona of a wealthy, upper-class socialite. So, I had always assumed her family was loaded. When I received that million dollars back then, besides being thrilled, I hadn’t suspected a thing. Now, I realized I was just being set up as a scapegoat. Probably not expecting me to ask such a blunt question, the line went dead silent. Two seconds later, she snapped, her voice dripping with defensive anger. “Ethan! I treat you so well, I literally give you a million dollars, and you’re questioning where my money comes from?!” “If that’s how you’re going to think of me, we might as well just break up!” “Fine. Let’s break up.” The moment the words left my mouth, I hung up. I had been looking for the right moment to end things. Since she handed me the opportunity on a silver platter, I was going to take it. I immediately blocked her number and all her social media accounts, including Snapchat and Instagram. I had no idea how badly Chloe lost her mind after I hung up. When she realized she was blocked everywhere, she probably smashed her phone in a rage. As for me, I felt a massive weight lift off my shoulders. I refused to believe that after doing all this, I would still end up with the same tragic fate as my past life. But as it turned out, I celebrated too early. The next day, my best friend, Tyler Thorne, invited me out for lunch. I didn’t have any plans, so I agreed immediately. I was planning to vent to him about the whole Chloe situation. I remembered when I first started dating Chloe, Tyler had warned me. “Ethan, I’m not trying to ruin your happiness, but I get a bad vibe from Chloe.” “That girl is bad news. Don’t fall too deep.” But back then, I was completely blinded by love. I even got defensive and argued with him, refusing to let him say a bad word about her. Since then, he had always kept his distance from Chloe. I had rarely brought them together. Who would have thought his gut instinct about people was so spot on? However, when I walked into the private dining room with a relaxed smile, I froze. Sitting in the booth next to Tyler was none other than Chloe. Why on earth were they together?

I didn’t bother analyzing the situation. All I knew was that I wanted absolutely nothing to do with Chloe. Without a second thought, I turned around to leave. I felt a sudden surge of anger toward Tyler. Didn’t he hate Chloe? Why was he helping her? Before I could walk out, Tyler grabbed my arm to stop me. I couldn’t help but confront him. “Tyler, what the hell is this?” “Ethan, look, I know you’re going to be pissed. But this was an accident. Either way, we really hope we can get your blessing!” I frowned, a bad feeling creeping into my chest. Then, Tyler started explaining. “I was on a business trip yesterday and ran into Chloe at a bar. She was drinking herself to death. That’s how I found out you guys broke up.” “Since she was your ex, I sat down to have a couple of drinks with her to make sure she was safe, and well… one thing led to another…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but his meaning was crystal clear. A lonely guy and a heartbroken girl, drinking together. Everyone knew what happened next. I didn’t say anything. I just looked past his shoulder at Chloe. She had a smug, provocative smirk on her face. She had done this on purpose. I instantly realized that Tyler was her new scapegoat. I immediately blurted out: “No! Tyler, break up with her right now. Being with her is going to get you killed!” I was speaking from the bottom of my heart, but Tyler’s face instantly darkened. “Ethan, don’t be a sore loser. I admit I told you to break up with her before, but as a man, I have to take responsibility for my actions now.” “Save your breath. I am absolutely not breaking up with her.” Seeing the stubborn determination on his face, I sensed something else was off. I grabbed his arm and lowered my voice. “Did she transfer a million dollars to you?!” Tyler didn’t answer, but the sudden look of utter shock on his face gave it away. Of course. Though I didn’t know where she got that million, her desperation proved she needed that money in someone else’s account. Since I didn’t take the bait, she had to find someone else. It made perfect sense. I just never expected that someone would be my best friend. “If you don’t want to die, wire that million dollars back to her right now!” “Tyler, we’ve been brothers for years. I would never hurt you. Trust me on this.” I pleaded with him, my voice tight with anxiety. But I failed to notice the growing hostility in his eyes. Once I finished speaking, he sneered. “Are you jealous? Do you want Chloe back now?” I frowned, completely baffled by how he arrived at that conclusion. I opened my mouth to explain, but he cut me off. “Enough! Ethan, this lunch was supposed to be Chloe and me making peace with you. But if you’re going to keep acting like a jealous freak, you can leave.” We had been through so much together. I couldn’t just stand by and watch him walk off a cliff. Seeing that Tyler was completely brainwashed, I turned my gaze to Chloe. “I don’t care what your game is, and I don’t care where you got that million dollars! Stay the hell away from Tyler.” “Otherwise, don’t blame me when I call the cops!” I was only trying to bluff her, but to my surprise, a flash of genuine terror crossed Chloe’s face. She jumped up from her seat, trembling with rage, and glared at Tyler. “Tyler! Who are you choosing today? Me, or him?!” Tyler looked torn. “Chloe…” “Fine! Since you choose him, we’re done!” With that, Chloe grabbed her designer bag and stormed out of the restaurant. I felt a wave of relief. I had saved Tyler. Just as I was about to sit down and explain the whole situation to him, Tyler’s fist flew out of nowhere. A heavy punch landed squarely on my jaw.

The force of the blow dazed me. I stumbled back, staring at him in utter disbelief. Suppressing my anger, I growled, “What the hell is wrong with you?!” “Ethan, let’s be honest here. The day you introduced Chloe to me, I fell in love with her at first sight.” “You didn’t appreciate her, so don’t blame me for taking her.” “That punch was for Chloe. As of today, we are no longer brothers!” Hearing his words, the last of my patience snapped. I demanded coldly, “Tyler, do you even hear yourself?!” We had known each other for years. Whenever one of us was in trouble, the other would drop everything to help. We went hiking together, got wasted together, and shared everything. He was the only true brother I had in this world. I never imagined we would throw away our brotherhood over a woman—especially a snake like Chloe. I was furious, but I tried to keep a shred of sanity. I figured he just didn’t know Chloe’s true colors yet, which was why he was acting like this. So, even at this point, I tried to reason with him. But Tyler just looked at me with pure disgust. He sneered, “Ethan, cut the holy-act. You’re just pissed because I got the million dollars and you didn’t.” “I’ve been sick of your arrogant attitude for years. Why do you always get better grades than me? Why do you get a better job? And why did you get a hot girlfriend like Chloe?!” So, that was how he really felt about me all this time. I suddenly found myself speechless. The urge to save him evaporated. Still, I couldn’t help but ask one last time. “If keeping that million dollars means you’ll lose your life, are you still not afraid?” He let out a cold, mocking laugh. “Yeah, I’m not afraid. Now, can you get the hell out of my sight?” With that, he walked out of the room, leaving me behind. I knew he didn’t believe a word I said. But I had no way of proving it to him right now. When I walked out of the restaurant, I saw the two of them embracing in the distance. More than the sting of my ex moving on, it was the betrayal of my best friend that cut deep. But I only watched from afar. I didn’t run over to pull them apart like I did earlier. Though I was deeply disappointed in Tyler, I still couldn’t completely shut off my conscience and watch him walk into a death trap. I returned home, feeling empty. Just as I was agonizing over how to expose Chloe’s scheme, Tyler suddenly showed up at my apartment. He was holding a bunch of expensive gifts—high-end whiskey, gaming gear, and designer clothes. I frowned, but before I could speak, he threw an arm around my shoulder. “Ethan, man, I lost my head the other day. But I really, truly love Chloe. Can you please just let us be happy?” “These are just to show I’m sorry. I’m sorry, brother. I was wrong!” Seeing his seemingly sincere apology, my heart softened. After all, we had years of history. You don’t just throw that away overnight. But it wasn’t until Chloe showed up at my door a few days later that I realized I had been set up.

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