Author: Momo Chan

Coming home from my high school tutoring gig, I saw my sister Serena playing the “Family Love Subscription” game with dad Richard and mom Eleanor. “One kiss is twenty thousand dollars.” “One hug is fifty thousand dollars.” Richard kissed Serena’s cheek twice. “I want to subscribe to two kisses, Serena.” Eleanor pulled Serena into her arms. “I want a ten-minute hug subscription.” I stood at the doorway, silent. Serena giggled as her phone buzzed with one Venmo notification after another. “What about Sienna? Sienna enjoys your love for free. Why doesn’t she have to pay?” Eleanor had a difficult labor when she gave birth to me. Ever since then, they gave all their love to Serena. There was only ever one portion of gourmet breakfast on the table. Serena’s monthly allowance was three hundred thousand dollars, while mine was only three hundred. Eleanor frowned. “Serena is right. Family love requires a subscription fee.” Richard sneered. “If you don’t renew your subscription, Sienna, don’t even think about calling us your parents anymore!” I gripped my faded, worn-out school hoodie. Fine. I didn’t want this kind of “family” anyway.

I stood at the door, frozen. Serena scraped her fork against her plate, making a sharp, grating noise. “Richard, Eleanor, I’m hungry.” Eleanor immediately took out the food she had kept warm in the oven. A sweet, doting smile was plastered across her face. “Here you go, Serena, sweetie. It’s all your favorites.” I quietly put down my backpack and grabbed a plate from the kitchen corner. I was about to grab some food and eat in my room like I always did. But Serena suddenly shrieked. “Sienna! What are you doing?!” “Eleanor and Richard prepared this aesthetic lunch just for me! I haven’t even taken photos for Snapchat yet!” Richard immediately grabbed the dish I had touched and threw it into the trash. He looked at me with pure disgust. “Sienna, you are so selfish! This is Serena’s Insta-worthy lunch. How dare you touch it without her permission?” I froze. Today was my birthday. I had thought, just for a second, that some of this food was meant for me. Eleanor grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the table. “Sienna Vance, since you refuse to pay for your family subscription, we are no longer your parents. Don’t you dare think of yourself as a Vance anymore!” A bitter taste filled my mouth. The eldest daughter of the Vance family? Had I ever actually been that? Serena always dragged me along to social events when we were younger. She wore designer dresses and custom jewelry. I, on the other hand, wore faded, oversized t-shirts. When people asked who I was, Serena would always smirk. “Oh, she’s just the housekeeper’s kid. My mom felt sorry for her, so she let me bring her along.” Seeing Serena still pouting, Richard immediately called a Michelin-star restaurant to deliver an identical meal. Then he turned to me, his eyes cold and distant. “Sienna, you won’t even spend a dime of your tutoring money on us.” “From today on, you’re moving to the servants’ quarters in the back. And don’t you dare tell anyone you’re our daughter!” I bit my lip, grabbed my backpack, and turned to leave. But Serena rushed forward and ripped at my collar. A sharp pain shot through my neck. Loose pearls scattered all over the hardwood floor. Serena held up a sparkling diamond necklace with a triumphant grin. “This is Grandma Rose’s heirloom necklace. Why do you have it?” “Oh, I get it! You stole it! You’re a thief!” I clutched my neck, looking at Richard and Eleanor in disbelief. This was the heirloom Grandma Rose had personally given to me before she fell ill. But Eleanor only looked at me with cold indifference. “Serena, sweetie, this was always meant for you. This little thief has kept it from you for years.” Serena immediately locked the diamond necklace around her neck. She pointed a finger at me. “Should we call the cops on this thief?” A dial tone echoed in the quiet room. I met Richard’s icy gaze. My heart shattered. Tears spilled over my eyelashes. Then, his voice cut through the air. “911? Yes, I’d like to report a burglary at my estate. We caught the thief red-handed.”

Inside the police station interrogation room. The officer, forced to work overtime past midnight, looked highly annoyed. “Kid, you’re still in high school. Why are you stealing?” I bit my lip, my voice trembling but stubborn. “I didn’t steal it. My grandmother gave it to me.” The officer sighed. “Look, everyone knows the Vance family only has one precious daughter, and they spoil her rotten. Your lie is a bit too…” Right. The Vance family had two daughters, but the world only knew Serena. My chest felt suffocatingly tight, but I refused to back down. The officer frowned. “Just sit here and think about it.” He walked out, but he didn’t close the door all the way. Richard and Eleanor’s voices drifted in from the hallway. “Eleanor, are we going too far with Sienna? What if she hates us? She is our flesh and blood, after all.” Eleanor scoffed. “It’s just a game. Serena plays along fine. Why can’t she? “We’ll bring her back in a few months. She’s just stubborn. She needs to learn her lesson.” A cold sweat broke out over my body. They thought they could just whistle and I’d run back, pretending nothing happened, playing the role of their obedient, quiet daughter. But Richard, Eleanor… I was so, so tired. The police said the Vances didn’t want to press charges. They just wanted to keep me overnight to “teach me a lesson.” I hadn’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch. In the middle of the night, my chronic stomach ulcer flared up. The pain was so intense I rolled onto the cold floor. Growing up, I was never allowed to touch any food Serena liked. They called it “being a good older sister.” With my three-hundred-dollar allowance, I had to budget every single cent just to buy basic groceries. I worked myself to the bone after school—tutoring, washing dishes, managing local cybercafes. I did anything that paid. Over time, I developed severe stomach issues, but I couldn’t afford the medication. Once, when the pain was unbearable, I told Eleanor. She just snapped at me. “Stop being so dramatic. Serena never fakes illnesses to beg for money.” My tears wet the concrete floor of the cell. I curled into a ball in the corner, pressing my hands hard against my stomach. The next day, I went to a nearby convenience store to grab a cheap sandwich. At the register, the machine beeped. “Declined. Insufficient funds.” Meeting the cashier’s judgmental glare, my face burned with humiliation. I was sure I had five hundred dollars left in that account—money I had painstakingly saved from tutoring. How could it be empty? I had to put the sandwich back. As I walked out, I ran straight into Serena, who was holding hands with Eleanor and Richard. She had a bright, malicious smile on her face. “Richard, Eleanor, wasn’t that restaurant amazing? I don’t have much money, so I could only treat you guys to a five-hundred-dollar lunch.” Five hundred dollars. Exactly five hundred dollars. My stomach churned, and I shook with rage. Serena fake-smiled and handed me a plastic bag, whispering in my ear, “Here. Our leftovers. Thanks for paying for our lunch, Sienna~” The blood rushed to my head. I shoved her away. “Serena! You went too far!” The next second, Richard kicked me hard in the ribs. I crashed against the brick wall. A rogue rusty nail tore into my palm, and blood began to gush instantly. “Sienna! Serena was nice enough to bring you food, and you tried to hurt her! How can you be so evil?!” Richard held Serena close, looking down at me with absolute disgust. “Richard, my ankle hurts so bad… what if I can never walk again? Sob…” Seeing Serena cry, Richard and Eleanor panicked. “My precious baby, we’re taking you to the ER right now.” They didn’t look at me even once. They left me sitting in the dirt, my hand covered in blood.

Richard and Eleanor rushed Serena to the hospital. “Where is the doctor? My daughter hurt her ankle! Get us your best specialist right now!” The genuine worry on their faces pierced my heart. I wiped my tears and tried to follow them inside, but the security guard blocked me. “Get lost, street rat. No begging allowed here.” I shook my head frantically. “I’m not a beggar. The people who just walked in are my parents and my sister.” The guard looked me up and down and sneered. “You, related to them? They’re wearing designer clothes. Look at yourself.” I looked down. A ripped t-shirt, muddy jeans, covered in dirt and blood. I looked exactly like a homeless person. I didn’t belong to that family at all. My chest felt suffocated. But the pain in my hand was getting worse. I peered past the guard. “Richard! Eleanor! I’m here! My hand hurts!” They heard my voice. They turned around, gave me one cold, indifferent look, and kept walking. I froze in place. Something inside me snapped. The guard threw me out of the hospital plaza. I sat on the concrete steps, numb. A sharp throb in my palm pulled me back to reality. It was my right hand. I needed to study. I had to get into college. Education was the only escape I had left. Panic seized me. I used the last of my pocket change to buy some rubbing alcohol and cheap gauze from a dollar store. I roughly bandaged my own wound. But between the chronic malnutrition and the blood loss, the world began to spin. Everything went black. When I opened my eyes again, I was lying in the small, humid servants’ quarters back at the estate. It was so hot. Shadows danced in front of my eyes. Then, a familiar voice spoke. I realized who was beside me. “Sienna… are you okay?” My lips were cracked. I was burning up with a fever. It wasn’t Eleanor. A wave of bitter disappointment washed over me. I shook my head weakly. “Thank you, Martha.” After a while, my head felt heavier. Through the haze, I heard Martha on her phone. “Ma’am, Sienna is in really bad shape. Her fever is 104 degrees. We need to get her to a hospital!” Hearing Eleanor’s name, I forced my heavy eyelids open. But Eleanor’s cold voice came through the speaker. “She’s not that fragile. She’s probably just faking it to get attention. “She’s not our daughter anymore anyway. Martha, don’t you dare spend a penny of our money on her.” A tear slipped down my temple, drying instantly against my burning skin. Martha ended up taking me to a shady, cheap clinic down the street. But she didn’t dare pay for me. She didn’t want to lose her job. “Kid, you’re finally awake. A little later, and you would’ve been a goner,” the old doctor, Dr. Evans, said as he pulled out my IV. “Thank you.” He grabbed my arm tightly. His grip was painful. “You think you can just leave? ‘Thank you’ doesn’t pay the medical bills.” I bit my lip. “I don’t have money. And I don’t have a family.” My eyes flickered to a sketchy flyer on his wall advertising clinical trials. I looked away, then forced myself to look back. My voice shook, but I was desperate. “I can test your experimental drugs.”

When I returned to the estate, the right side of my body was numb. Terror crept into my soul. I wanted to find someone, anyone, to scream to, but there was no one. Before I knew it, I had walked back to the front gates of the mansion. I let out a self-deprecating laugh. Helpless children always run back to their parents. Sienna Vance, they threw you away. Why are you back? I clenched my fists, wanting to turn around, but my legs wouldn’t move. I hit my own thighs. “Go! This isn’t your home anymore!” Suddenly, loud laughter echoed from inside the villa. Richard and Eleanor were surrounding Serena, watching her twirl in a brand-new designer dress. I stood by the window like a ghost, a pathetic creature spying on someone else’s happiness. The weekend passed. I locked my emotions deep inside, trying to focus entirely on studying for my AP exams. But the principal called me into his office on Monday. He slammed my report card at my feet. “Sienna Vance, you were reported for cheating. The evidence is solid.” I picked up the paper. My name was at the very top of the class ranking. “Sir, my grades have always been straight A’s. Why would I cheat?” The principal sneered. “Who’s to say you didn’t cheat before? “According to school policy, cheating means immediate expulsion and a permanent stain on your record.” My brain went numb. “Please, sir! Give me one day. I can prove my innocence!” He didn’t answer. Desperate, I grabbed the paper and ran out of the office. But as I rounded the corner, a foot tripped me. I fell flat on my face. I looked up straight into Serena’s mocking eyes. In an instant, I understood. “It was you—” Serena snatched the paper from my hand and ripped it to shreds. “Yeah, it was me. “Get on your knees, crawl around your classroom, and bark like a dog. Do that, and maybe I’ll tell the principal it was a mistake.” The wound on my palm opened up again, bleeding through the gauze. I broke out in a cold sweat from the pain. Seeing this, Serena stepped directly on my injured hand. She ground her heel down. “An orphan with no parents only has her grades to cling to, right? “Sienna, you better start barking before I change my mind.” Panic consumed me. I was terrified of being expelled. I was terrified of being stuck working minimum-wage jobs forever. Nothing else mattered. I got down on my knees, bowed to Serena, and crawled into my classroom, barking like a dog while her friends recorded it on Snapchat. The laughter of my classmates roared in my ears, but I blocked it out. With empty, hollow eyes, I walked back to Serena, who was giggling. “I did what you asked.” Serena kept her word and led me back to the principal’s office, but the moment she opened her mouth, she gasped. “Principal, Sienna bullied me! She forced me to lie for her! Sob…” My eyes widened. The principal demanded to call my parents. I muttered quietly, “I… I don’t have parents.” Serena burst out laughing. “Principal, she’s just an unwanted stray!” Soon, Richard and Eleanor arrived. I kept my head down. Serena immediately threw herself into Eleanor’s arms. “Eleanor, Richard, Sienna cheated, and then she threatened to beat me up if I didn’t lie for her! Look!” She pulled up her sleeve to show a faint red mark. Eleanor’s face flushed with fury. She slapped me across the face so hard my vision went blurry. My cheek swelled up instantly. “Sienna Vance, you absolute parasite! “How dare you bully your sister at school? I think you should just drop out!” The last string of sanity in my brain snapped. “No! I can’t drop out!” I fell to my knees, begging Richard and Eleanor. “Mr. Vance, Mrs. Vance, I beg you. Please.” Richard took a step back. Eleanor frowned, a flicker of pity crossing her eyes. But as Serena tugged at Eleanor’s sleeve, that pity vanished. “You’re dropping out.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469237”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Just because I missed four emergency calls from my younger brother before he fell to his death, my parents hated me for the rest of their lives. Even my wife, Chloe, abused me verbally because of this for ten whole years. “You must always remember, Ethan. You killed Lucas. How do you still have the nerve to live?” The constant accusations from everyone around me left me in a state of mental exhaustion. I ended up mixing up the wrong chemical reagents at work, causing a massive lab explosion. It was Chloe who rushed in, risking her own life to drag me out. But the blast shattered her vital organs. Before she died, she gripped my hand tightly. “I hope in the next life, I never, ever meet you again.” Only then did I find out that Chloe had loved my brother, Lucas, for half her life. She had lied about being infertile just so she could save her first night for Lucas. Yet, those who didn’t know the truth accused me of being a jinx, claiming I cursed both my wife and my brother to death. In utter despair, I jumped from a building to end my life. But when I opened my eyes again, I had returned to the eve of Lucas’s death. This time, I only want to live for myself.

“Please confirm your information. If everything is correct, I’ll sign the papers. Congratulations, you are officially husband and wife.” The voice of the City Hall clerk brought me back to reality. I snapped out of my daze and turned to look at Chloe, who was standing beside me with a cold, displeased expression. I had actually traveled back in time to the day Chloe and I were registering our marriage—the very day before Lucas fell to his death. In my ears, Chloe’s venomous curse from my past life seemed to still echo. “If you hadn’t drugged me and taken my innocence back then, do you really think I would have married you? Why don’t you just die already!” That suffocating feeling of being wrapped in despair hit me again. I suddenly stood up and snatched our marriage license and ID papers back from the clerk. Ignoring the clerk’s bewildered look, I turned to Chloe. “There’s still time to back out. Lucas is waiting for you right outside City Hall, isn’t he? Are you absolutely sure you want to marry me?” Chloe completely didn’t expect my sudden move. A flash of surprise crossed her face. But she quickly composed herself and let out a cold sneer. “What kind of game are you playing now, Ethan? Cut the crap and finish the paperwork. I don’t have time to play house with you.” With that, Chloe turned and walked toward the exit. Watching her retreating figure, a bitter smile played on my lips. In my past life, Chloe and I grew up together. Our marriage was arranged long ago, and I always believed we were in love. It wasn’t until after we got married, when she smashed our wedding photos, refused to look at our marriage certificate, and publicly screamed at Lucas’s funeral that I didn’t deserve to live, that I finally understood. She blamed me for trapping her in a lifelong cage. Only then did I realize that the ten years of sweetness I thought we shared were nothing but agonizing torture to her. Seeing the tension between us, the clerk looked at me hesitantly. “Sir, are we still going through with this?” “No, thank you.” I took the documents and deliberately lingered inside for a while before walking out. Just like in my past life, she didn’t even spare me a glance. But as she reached out to grab her documents from me, I took her hand. The familiar warmth gave me a real sense of being alive again. A mix of pain and surprise erupted in my mind. Chloe looked at me strangely. “It’s just a marriage registration. Is there any need to be this happy? You were acting so hesitant inside.” I nodded. “Yes, I am happy.” But I was no longer happy because I was marrying her. I was happy because this time, I had the power to choose again. Chloe coldly pulled her hand away. Just as she was about to get into her car, a staff member walked over. She handed us a large bottle of champagne, naturally assuming we were newlyweds who had just signed our papers. “Congratulations to you both! Please take this champagne as a gift. I wish you a lifetime of happiness.” I suddenly remembered my past life. Back then, I was so eager to rush home and celebrate with Chloe, only to be met with her rolling her eyes. “We have a lifetime to spend at home. I’m going out. Don’t waste my time.” Back then, I thought she was just tired after a long day, so I humbly apologized to her. But now, I gripped the champagne, about to throw it into a nearby trash can, when Chloe suddenly slammed her car door shut. Seeing that I hadn’t gotten in, she frowned with impatience. “Didn’t you say we were going home to celebrate? What are you lingering for?” I stood frozen, almost thinking I had misheard her. Chloe actually walked back to my side, snatched the champagne from my hand, and said, “I’m telling you, this is the last time. I won’t keep spoiling you like this in the future.” I lowered my gaze, and a faint ripple stirred in my long-dead heart. To be honest, our ten-year marriage in my past life wasn’t entirely filled with darkness. Before Lucas’s accident, our colleagues always called us the perfect couple. Because of those moments, I had constantly blinded myself, never noticing that anything was wrong. Chloe used to cook for me on my birthdays, even when she got blisters on her hands, just to give me a surprise. She would fly back from abroad the moment I got sick, completely disregarding a multi-million-dollar business deal. And later, when the lab caught fire and I was trapped in the flames, she was the one who rushed in without a second thought to drag me out. I was the one who was supposed to die in that explosion, but she threw herself over me, shielding me from the blast. Setting aside her bitter words, how could I easily let go of someone who had loved me like that?

Seeing that I wasn’t moving, Chloe reached out to grab my arm. But before we could take two steps, her phone rang. It was Lucas. Seeing the contact name “Lucas Baby” flashing on the screen, my eyes narrowed. Chloe turned away in a panic, offering a casual explanation. “It was a punishment from a game of Truth or Dare. They made me change the contact name.” With that, she answered the call. Even though I couldn’t hear what Lucas was saying on the other end, I could guess the gist of it. Either his hand was hurt, or his car got hit. After all, those were Lucas’s favorite tricks. Sure enough, Chloe hung up the phone and shoved the champagne back into my hands. “Lucas got rear-ended on his way back. I need to go check on him. Go home first.” I nodded and opened the car door for her. “Do you want me to drive you there?” Seeing that I didn’t press her with questions like I usually did, she gave me a strange look. “Don’t you have anything else to say to me?” Seeing my calm expression, she bit her lip and let out a cold laugh. “I guess it makes sense. Lucas wanted to celebrate our marriage with us, but you dragged your feet so much that he couldn’t wait any longer. That’s why he got rear-ended on his way back. You have nothing to complain about.” With that, she got into the car and drove off. Watching her car disappear into the distance, I tossed the champagne bottle into the trash. She always blamed me for standing in the way of her happiness, but she had no idea that Lucas was never her prince charming. Back then, Lucas had piled up massive gambling debts. I was the one who emptied my savings to bail him out. To keep our parents from getting stressed, the two of us kept it a secret and never told anyone. Yet, Lucas had never stopped seeing the female dealer from the casino, and he was simultaneously leading Chloe on. He only targeted Chloe because she was the CEO of a listed company, with countless properties and luxury cars to her name. I knew exactly what Lucas was up to, so I constantly warned Chloe not to get too close to him. However, Chloe took my warnings as petty jealousy, thinking I didn’t even trust my own brother. So this time, I won’t interfere in their business anymore. Whether Chloe is running toward passionate love or a dark abyss, it has nothing to do with me anymore.

On my way back, my parents called. Their voices were filled with excitement. They said they had prepared a huge feast and were just waiting for Chloe and me to arrive. My grip on the steering wheel tightened. After a moment of silence, I decided to tell them the truth—that we didn’t sign the papers. My dad’s voice instantly grew heavy over the phone. “What is going on, Ethan? Weren’t you the one who was dying to get married? Why are you backing out now?” My parents genuinely adored Chloe. When our family went bankrupt years ago, Chloe’s family business was booming. Yet, Chloe never forgot our childhood promise. This completely won my parents over. They had declared that even if it bankrupted them, they would never mistreat her as their daughter-in-law. I sighed and took all the blame. “Mom, Dad, it’s my fault. I feel like I’m not good enough for Chloe right now. I want to wait a bit longer.” Hearing this, my parents stopped pressing. My dad just let out a long sigh. “It’s our fault too. We were naive and let bad people ruin our business, causing the family to go bankrupt. Son, we’ve let you down.” After hanging up, I sent a message to my college roommate, Mason. In my past life, my entire world revolved around my family. So, when Mason invited me to join his startup, I rejected him without a second thought. But what did I get in the end? I lost my career, became the laughingstock who lived off his wife, and completely lost Chloe anyway. After receiving my positive reply, Mason was so excited that he wanted to book me a flight to New York immediately. I had no objections. I figured on my last day here, I could finalize everything with Chloe. But right after I hung up, I noticed three missed calls from Lucas. I frowned. My mind instantly flashed back to the moment before Lucas fell to his death in my past life. I clearly remembered him calling me four times back then. An uneasy feeling washed over me. Just as I was about to call him back, Chloe’s call came in. Her angry voice erupted through the speaker. “Ethan Hale! What on earth did you do? I knew you weren’t that kind! Now Lucas has been driven to jump off a building because of you! Are you happy now?” My brain went blank, and my vision blurred. It was exactly like my past life. Lucas had inexplicably fallen from a building, leaving nothing behind but my name written in his blood. There were no other leads. Because of that, I became the prime suspect. Even though the police questioned me for three days and nights without finding a single shred of evidence, everyone around me insisted that I had murdered Lucas. Cold sweat poured down my back, and my knees trembled. Was I destined to live under Lucas’s shadow for the rest of my life, even after being reborn? I refuse to accept this! I immediately slammed on the brakes, pulled a U-turn, and sped toward the hospital. When I arrived outside the emergency room, the hallway was in complete chaos. Chloe was surrounded by a group of burly, aggressive-looking men. The leader, a fierce-looking man, yelled, “If you aren’t Lucas’s woman, why did you rush here the moment he got hurt? Cut the crap! He’s in there now, and you have to pay his debts, or we won’t let you leave!” Chloe’s eyebrows were knit tight. She clearly had no idea about Lucas’s true nature and was completely bewildered. “You have the wrong person! If you don’t leave right now, I’m calling the police!” But these thugs were never afraid of the cops. Provoked by her words, they began pushing her around aggressively. Seeing that Chloe was about to fall, I rushed forward and caught her, staring coldly at the thugs. “I’m Lucas’s brother. If you have a problem, talk to me.” “Perfect! Your brother owes us one million dollars in gambling debts. Pay up right now!” Chloe’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you guys insane? Do you think you can just extort anyone? Ethan, don’t listen to them. I’m calling the police right now.” “This is ridiculous. Lucas doesn’t even know how to gamble. How could he owe a million dollars?” I stayed silent and checked my bank account balance. Seeing that I wasn’t arguing and was actually calculating my funds, Chloe yanked my arm hard. “Ethan, did you lose your mind? Do you have too much money to spend? Do you know who these people—” She stopped mid-sentence, as if a sudden realization hit her. “Wait… so the one who actually owes the money is you, and you’re framing Lucas, aren’t you? No wonder you’re so willing to pay them back!”

Listening to her effortless accusation, I could only manage a bitter smile. Losing his patience, the leader raised his hand and lunged at Chloe. “Shut up, you bitch!” I instantly threw myself in front of Chloe. The heavy blow landed squarely on my face, sending me crashing to the floor. Ignoring the spinning in my head, I quickly transferred the money to them. Once the transaction cleared, the thugs left, fully satisfied. At that moment, the red light above the emergency room went out. The doctor stepped out with a sigh of relief. “The patient is out of danger, but he needs to be moved to the ICU for a couple of days for observation.” Chloe didn’t even spare me a second glance. She immediately followed Lucas’s gurney to the ward. I, on the other hand, was helped by a passing nurse to get my face bandaged. I sat alone in the hospital hallway until dawn, ultimately deciding not to tell my parents about this. I still couldn’t understand why Lucas had fallen from the building again in this life, but at least he survived this time. When the morning sun filled the hallway, my phone buzzed with a reminder that my flight was boarding in four hours. I stood up, rubbing my numb legs. As I looked up, I saw Chloe walking toward me. She was holding a thermos of freshly made soup, and the moment she saw me, she instinctively hid it behind her back. I knew the soup wasn’t for me. She walked over to me, perhaps feeling a bit guilty, and spoke in a much softer tone than usual. “Why are you still here? Go home and get some rest. I’ll watch over him.” “Also, thanks for driving those people away yesterday. But we can’t just let this go. Once Lucas wakes up, I’ll find out from him who actually owed that million dollars.” Simply put, she still refused to believe that her perfect golden boy was rotten to the core. I nodded in silence, but my legs were too numb for me to take a step. Seeing this, she came over to support me. “Come on, I’ll drive you home first.” Looking at her lowered eyes, a wave of bitterness washed over me. Suppressing my emotions, I spoke quietly. “Chloe, if you had the chance to choose your husband again, would you still choose me without hesitation?” She answered almost instantly, “What is wrong with you today? Why are you talking nonsense? We’ve been engaged for twenty years. Who else would I marry?” I forced a smile and wiped away a tear when she wasn’t looking. Just as I was about to push her hand away, a nurse ran over in a panic. “The patient who fell last night is awake! Quick, get the doctor!” A spark of joy lit up Chloe’s eyes. She didn’t even look back at me. “Ethan, go home first. I’ll talk to you later.” Watching her sprint toward the ward, the emotions in my heart slowly turned to stone. Only when her figure completely disappeared from the hallway did I whisper to the empty air. “Goodbye, Chloe.” “This time, I’m the one letting you go.” I turned around, left the hospital, and hailed a cab to the airport.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469235”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Halfway through the yacht party, someone fell overboard. When Julian Sterling jumped in without a second thought, I honestly believed he was just trying to save a life. That was until I saw him clearly through the water, wrapping his arm around the girl’s waist, pressing his lips to hers, kissing her for a full three minutes. The crowded deck fell into a dead silence. Everyone’s eyes secretly darted back and forth between them and me. When the two of them finally climbed back onto the deck, I recognized the girl. I looked at him and asked, “You knew she could swim, right?” Julian wrung the water out of his white shirt. When he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with nothing but cold impatience. “I was saving a life, Nora. Can you stop being so jealous all the time, especially in front of everyone?” The girl huddled behind him, wrapped tightly in a beach towel, her eyes red and tearful. I took off my engagement ring and placed it gently on the table. “Fine. You save lives, and I’m in the way. I’m leaving.” I was twenty-two that year. He thought I was just throwing a temper tantrum, that I’d crawl back to him in a few days. Five years later, I had my wedding on a tropical island. Julian crashed the venue. In front of hundreds of guests, his voice was hoarse as he begged me: “Nora, can’t you just listen to my explanation for once?” I lifted my veil, looked at him, and smiled. “Explain what? Explain how you gave her mouth-to-mouth underwater for three minutes?” I raised my hand and pointed to the ocean behind me. “This sea is much cleaner than your yacht, Mr. Sterling. Don’t dirty my wedding dress.”

When Julian rushed into my wedding venue, he still had that same arrogant, self-assured look on his face from five years ago. “Nora, haven’t you made your point by now?” He wasn’t asking a question. He was making a statement. He scanned the crowd of guests, a careless, dismissive smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “You can still call this off. It’s not too late. I can pretend none of this ever happened.” Ethan Vance’s hand had been resting gently on my waist, but when he heard those words, he let go. He took half a step back, giving me a full step of space to handle this. I lifted my veil and looked straight into Julian’s eyes. “What did you just say? Say it again.” Julian stood there with one hand stuffed casually into his suit pocket, his chin tilted slightly upward. He was confident to the point of arrogance. “I said, you’ve been throwing this tantrum for five years. That’s enough. Come home.” He emphasized the word “home,” as if those four letters alone were enough to make me bow my head. I laughed. I raised my left hand, flashing the diamond ring on my ring finger right in his face. Julian’s gaze locked onto the ring, but the smirk on his face didn’t fade immediately. “You’re actually going through with this?” His voice went up an octave. “Nora, just to get back at me, you’d go this far?” I ripped the veil off my head, letting the white lace drift lazily to the ground by my feet. “Five years. More than eighteen hundred days. Do you really think I have the time and energy to play games with you?” Julian’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He stared into my eyes, then at Ethan, before finally letting his gaze drop back to my face. “Isn’t this all because you wanted me to beg? Fine. I’ll beg. Take off the ring and come with me.” He actually reached out as he spoke, palm face up, completely convinced that I would place my hand in his. “Julian, listen to me very carefully.” My voice wasn’t loud, but I enunciated every single word. “The most real, most certain decision I have ever made in my life is marrying Ethan today. Do you get it now?” Julian’s outstretched hand froze in midair. “Are you going to walk out yourself, or do I need to have security help you?” Two security guards in black uniforms quickly stepped up from the sides of the aisle, grabbing him by his arms. He shrugged violently, throwing off the guard on his right, but the one on his left held on tight. “Let go! I can walk!” Once Julian was dragged out of the venue, Ethan leaned down and took my hand again. “Let’s continue.” I squeezed his hand back. His fingers slid between mine, locking us together with just the right amount of pressure. The wedding march started playing again. As soon as Julian was kicked out of the resort, he violently kicked a nearby trash can, sending it flying. He cursed loudly and kicked it again. “How dare she!” He hissed the words through his teeth, his eyes bloodshot. “She wouldn’t dare. She’s just testing me. She’s waiting for me to run after her and apologize. She’s waited five years just for this moment.” His assistant stood nearby, his lips parting slightly, but he didn’t dare say a word. Julian yanked open the car door and threw himself into the backseat, slamming the door so hard the entire SUV shook. “Back to the hotel!” The moment he stepped into his penthouse suite, he started smashing things. The assistant stood at the door, clutching a thick stack of files, too terrified to enter but not daring to leave. Julian turned around and noticed the files in his hands. “What’s that?” The assistant hesitated before placing the documents on the only table that hadn’t been flipped over. “Mr. Sterling, these are the records you asked me to keep regarding Ms. Hayes over the past five years. One report for every month. They are all here.” Julian stared at the stack of papers, motionless. “When did I ask you to track her?” “Five years ago. The day Ms. Hayes left.” The assistant quickly retreated to the door after saying this. Julian stood before the stack of files. He reached out and picked up the top one. The date printed on the cover was exactly five years and three months ago. Sixty months. Sixty reports. Every single envelope was still perfectly sealed. He had never opened a single one.

Julian sat alone in his dark hotel room for the entire night. When dawn finally broke, he picked up his phone and made a call. “Run a background check on Ethan Vance’s company. I want to know every single business deal he is currently working on.” The line went silent for a second, probably because the person on the other end was shocked he was awake at this hour. Not daring to ask questions, the person gave a quick confirmation and hung up. He stood up, walked to the window, and ripped the curtains open. The morning over the island was gray and foggy. Three days later, I returned from my honeymoon. The moment we landed, my phone rang with a call from my office. I was standing by the luggage carousel, clutching the phone between my ear and shoulder, leaning down to lift my suitcase off the belt. The bag was heavy. On my wrist, I was wearing a seashell bracelet Ethan had braided for me at a local beach market. “Nora, Sterling Group just reached out. They want to collaborate on a new project, and they specifically requested you to lead the negotiations.” My hand froze on the handle of my suitcase. I didn’t answer immediately. “Reject it.” “But they’ve already sent over the letter of intent. The terms they’re offering are incredibly generous.” Ethan pushed the luggage cart over and looked at me. He must have read the situation on my face. He stopped the cart, gently took the phone from my hand, and hung up. “Then let’s negotiate. In his boardroom. Your turf.” He said it so casually, like he was just deciding what we should have for dinner. I looked at him. He leaned down, tucked the phone back into my bag, took my suitcase, and held my other hand. “Let’s go. The car is waiting outside.” A week later, I was sitting with my team in the main conference room of the Sterling Group. When Julian pushed the door open, he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his hair styled flawlessly. There was no trace of the desperate man from the wedding. He walked over and sat directly across from me, separated by a long mahogany table that could easily seat twenty people. “Nora, it’s been a long time.” He called me by my name, a polite smile on his face, but his eyes were locked onto my face, never wavering for even a second. “Mr. Sterling, let’s get straight to the project.” I flipped open the contract, pen in hand. No small talk. No pleasantries. He glanced at me, opened his own file, and began outlining the proposal. As he spoke, his fingers kept spinning his pen. I knew that habit all too well. He only spun his pen when he was incredibly nervous. Five years ago, during his first major presentation to the board of directors, he had spun his pen just like that for the entire meeting. His palms had been dripping with sweat afterward. Back then, I had been sitting in the very front row. Every time he looked down at me, the pen would spin even faster. “All the conditions are listed in the appendix. What do you think, Nora?” “The terms are acceptable, but the timeline is too short. I don’t take on rushed projects.” I pushed the contract back toward him. When he reached out to take it, his fingertips brushed against the back of my hand. I pulled my hand back instantly. He didn’t pull the contract away right away; his hand lingered in place for a second before slowly retracting. “Then we’ll extend it by two months. You call the shots.” He agreed so quickly that his VP sitting next to him visibly flinched. The VP leaned in, wanting to say something, but Julian shot him a warning glare, forcing the man to swallow his words. Once the meeting was adjourned, Julian ordered everyone else to leave. Only the two of us remained in the massive boardroom. He stood up, walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window, and kept his back to me. It took a long time before he finally spoke. “Your hair is much longer now.” He didn’t turn around. His voice bounced off the glass pane, sounding muffled and heavy. Five years ago, he loved twisting the ends of my hair around his fingers. Back then, it barely brushed my shoulders. He always said it was too short and begged me to grow it out. Later, during my first winter in London, I cut it all off into a sharp bob. The hairstylist had asked if I wanted to keep some length, and I had said, “No, make it as short as possible.” After it was done, I stared at myself in the mirror for what felt like an eternity. Then I stood up, paid, and walked out into the freezing London rain without once looking back. “Mr. Sterling, please have your team email the revised contract to my office.” I packed my documents and started walking toward the door. His voice cut through the silence behind me. “Nora. Five years ago… do you really not want to hear a single word of my explanation?” I stopped at the threshold but didn’t turn around. “You already explained. You said you were saving a life.” “I was telling the truth! She was drowning! If I hadn’t jumped in, she would have—” “She can swim.” I turned around to look at him. “Chloe Bennett knows how to swim. I told you this five years ago. You told me I was just being jealous and dramatic. Are you seriously going to stand there and use the same excuse today?” He remained silent, his lips pressed into a tight line. He was gripping his pen so hard his knuckles turned white. Engraved on the cap of that pen were his initials. It was a birthday gift I had given him five years ago. I had searched through almost every engraving shop in the city just to find that specific vintage font. Now, the black lacquer on the pen was chipped, revealing the dull metal underneath. “Sign the contract or don’t. That’s up to you. But Julian, stop using business as an excuse to talk to me about the past.” I pulled the door open and walked out, the freezing AC of the hallway hitting my face. As the elevator doors closed. I leaned back against the mirrored wall, closed my eyes, and let out a long, heavy breath.

The revised contract sat in my inbox for a whole week. Marked as read, but unanswered. I had my assistant follow up once, and the reply was that Mr. Sterling was out of town on business and would review it upon his return. I archived the email and put it out of my mind. On the eighth day, Julian called me directly, suggesting we meet in person to go over the final details. His tone was strictly professional. He made reservations at a private, high-end restaurant—the very one he used to love going to five years ago. “Mr. Sterling, contract negotiations should take place in a conference room.” “This place is close to your office. Think of it as a casual business lunch. Why? Are you afraid to have a meal with me?” When I arrived at seven in the evening, he was already seated in the private dining room. Four dishes were set on the table, every single one of them my old favorites. He stood up to pull out a chair for me. I ignored his gesture, pulled out the chair directly opposite him, and placed the contract on the table. “Business first.” He glanced at the document but didn’t open it. “You haven’t ordered yet.” “I’m not hungry.” He flipped through a couple of pages of the contract, then closed it, finally looking me dead in the eye. He wore a dark gray button-down, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. On his wrist was the luxury watch I had gifted him five years ago. “What exactly do you want, Nora?” The way he asked made me feel like he was looking at a stubborn child throwing a tantrum. He sounded exhausted but patronizing. He was still so damn confident, fully believing that I was still in love with him just like five years ago. “I want to sign this contract, and then I want to leave.” “You know damn well this isn’t about the contract.” He leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers together on the table. “When you were on your honeymoon, I went to London. I visited the coffee shop where you used to work. I ordered every single type of coffee you used to brew. I stood under your old apartment building for an hour, looking up at your window. The lights were out.” “Nora, I know you had a hard time over there. Come back to me. I won’t let you suffer ever again.” I picked up my water glass and took a sip, the bottom of the glass hitting the table with a sharp clink. “Julian, I had a wonderful time in London. I didn’t suffer. I just grew up. And my growing up had absolutely nothing to do with you.” Suddenly, the door to the private room was pushed open from the outside. Chloe Bennett stood at the entrance. She was wearing a emerald-green slip dress, her makeup much heavier than usual. Her eyes swept over Julian before locking onto me. “Julian, you told me you had to work late tonight. I didn’t realize you were ‘working’ here.” I recognized that voice instantly. Five years ago on the yacht, she had huddled behind Julian, wrapping herself in a towel, looking so helpless and sweet. Now, she looked at me with a cold, humorless smile. “Nora’s here too? Aren’t you newly married? How do you have the time to have private dinners with another woman’s fiancé?” Julian frowned, reaching up to brush her hand off his shoulder. “What are you doing here?” “Am I not allowed? I’m your fiancée. When my man is having a private dinner with another woman, of course I’m going to show up.” She pulled out the chair right next to Julian and sat down, pouring herself a cup of black coffee. Her movements were elegant, as if she were attending a gala. I leaned back, watching her little performance. “Ms. Bennett, Mr. Sterling invited me here tonight to discuss a business contract.” “A contract?” She let out a soft laugh, turning her head to look at Julian. “Julian, if you really can’t let her go, just tell me. I’ll pack my things and move out. After all, it’s been five years, and you clearly have no intention of marrying me anyway.” The room went dead silent for three whole seconds. Julian leaned back, his brow furrowed deeply, his lips pressed into a hard line. He didn’t say a single word. Chloe’s expression flickered for a fraction of a second, but she quickly forced her smile back on and turned to me. “See? He has nothing to say.” She stood up, picked up the bottle of red wine from the table, and leaned over to pour some into my glass. But her hand tilted suddenly, and the red wine splashed all over the side of my dress. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! It was an accident.” She grabbed a few napkins, bending down to wipe it off. I took the napkins from her hand and dabbed the stain dry myself. Then, I stood up and pushed the contract right in front of Julian. “This contract is void. Sterling Group doesn’t need to contact me for any future projects. Have your assistant reach out to my company’s sales department through the official channels.” I threw my purse over my shoulder. As I reached the door, I turned back to look at Chloe. “You just said he had no intention of marrying you for the past five years. Let me tell you why.” “It’s not because of me. It’s because you’re too easy to keep. You’ve stayed by his side for five years without demanding anything in return. He gets all of you for free. So, why would he ever bother marrying you?” The fake smile on Chloe’s face shattered completely. I didn’t stay to watch Julian’s reaction. I pulled the door open and walked out. The bright lights of the restaurant hallway blinded me for a second. Behind me, I could hear Chloe’s muffled screams coming from the room. She was shouting something. But the heavy door shut, and I couldn’t care less.

The moment I stepped out of the restaurant, it started to rain. The cool drizzle hit my face, instantly clearing my head. As I stood under the awning waiting for my ride, my phone lit up with a text on Snapchat from Ethan. “Are you done with the meeting? I can come pick you up.” I typed back: “No need, I’m almost home.” Before my ride could arrive, the restaurant doors behind me flew open. Chloe stepped out in her high heels, her pace slow and deliberate. She wasn’t carrying an umbrella, and Julian was following close behind her. She stopped just two steps away from me, looking me up and down with a condescending smirk. “Nora, does your new husband know you’re out having private dinners with your ex-boyfriend?” She dragged out the word “ex-boyfriend” slowly, dripping with malice. I ignored her, looking down at my phone. The driver was two minutes away. “I’m talking to you!” Her voice got louder, her tone dripping with the spoiled attitude of someone who always got her way. “You left so easily five years ago. Why are you back now pretending to negotiate contracts? Are you really here for business, or are you just looking for an excuse to see him?” I looked up at her calmly. “Your fiancé was the one who initiated this contract. If you have a problem with that, take it up with him.” Chloe laughed, glancing back at Julian, who was standing silently in the rain, before looking back at me. “He reached out, but you could have said no. Or maybe, you just couldn’t bear to cut the cord completely either.” She took a step closer. The rain clung to her eyelashes, but her arrogant smile didn’t waver. “Nora, I know girls like you. You claim you’ve moved on, but you leave a hundred doors wide open.” I slid my phone into my pocket and shifted my umbrella slightly. “Are you finished?” “No,” she said, tilting her head. “I’m just curious. Does your husband know you’re alone with Julian tonight? Or did you lie to him?” Just as the words left her mouth, a sleek black sedan pulled up to the curb. Ethan got out, holding a large umbrella. He walked straight over to me, took my umbrella from my hand, and naturally wrapped his other arm securely around my waist. “Finished?” “Yeah.” Only then did he turn to look at Julian and Chloe, giving them a polite nod. “Mr. Sterling, Ms. Bennett. It’s getting late. You should head inside.” Chloe’s eyes locked onto Ethan’s arm around my waist, her smirk faltering. “Mr. Vance, you got here fast. Do you actually know who your wife was having dinner with tonight?” “I do,” Ethan replied, his tone perfectly calm. “Mr. Sterling invited her to discuss a business contract. I was the one who encouraged her to come.” Julian stepped out from behind Chloe. He stood fully in the rain, no umbrella, water dripping down his forehead and soaking his face. He stared at Ethan’s hand resting on my waist, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Ethan, I need a few minutes alone with Nora.” “No,” Ethan’s voice left absolutely no room for negotiation. “If you have anything to say, Mr. Sterling, you can schedule an appointment at our office during business hours. Right now, it’s personal time, and my wife needs to rest.” Julian’s jaw clenched tight. “Nora, can you please ask him to give us a second? I only need five minutes.” Before I could even open my mouth, Chloe let out a sharp laugh. She turned to Julian, her voice finally losing its sweet, fake tone. “Five minutes? You chased her to her wedding, you followed her on her honeymoon, you crashed her dinner, and now you’re asking for five minutes? Julian, do you even hear yourself?” Julian didn’t look at her. His eyes were glued to me. Water dripped from his lashes, but he didn’t even blink. “Nora, I won’t try to explain what happened on the yacht five years ago anymore. I just want to ask you one question. If I hadn’t jumped into the water back then, would you still have left?” The sound of the rain suddenly felt deafening. I looked at Julian. His expensive suit was soaked and clinging to his shoulders, his hair plastered to his forehead. He stood there in the downpour, waiting for an answer that was five years too late. “Yes.” My voice was quiet, but firm. “Even if you hadn’t jumped, I would have left. Because from start to finish, you never once asked me how I felt standing on that deck, watching you kiss another woman.” Julian’s shoulders slumped instantly. The smirk on Chloe’s face vanished completely. For the first time, the cracks in her arrogant facade showed. Ethan pulled me a little closer to his side and looked down at me. “Ready to go home?” “Let’s go home.” We turned and walked toward the car. Behind us, Chloe’s voice erupted, screaming at Julian. “Are you happy now?! Did you hear her?! She would have left you anyway! You wasted five years of your life waiting for nothing!” Julian didn’t reply. I got into the passenger seat, and Ethan started the engine. The windshield wipers began to sweep back and forth. My phone screen lit up. It was a text from Julian. Only one line. “You’re right. I never asked you. Is it too late to ask now?” I stared at the text for a long time. “Cold? I can turn up the heater,” Ethan’s voice drifted over from the driver’s seat. I locked my phone, flipped it face down on my lap, and shook my head at him. “No, I’m good.” The car turned the corner, and in the rearview mirror, the two figures under the rain grew smaller and smaller until they were completely swallowed by the storm.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469234”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My mother was a foolishly kind woman. Years ago, she started a fashion line with an unemployed friend. My mom was solely responsible for the designing, sourcing, and pattern-making. Just as the workshop started to take off, that woman ran off overnight with all the design patents and corporate cash, vanishing into thin air. She left behind a mountain of debt, and it all fell on my mother’s shoulders. She cleaned houses by day and drove Uber by night, stubbornly paying off every single cent on her own. But her body broke down. She died of sudden cardiac arrest from overwork. Ten years later, the brand I founded became the pinnacle of the fashion industry. At the Fashion Week Emerging Designer Competition, I sat in the head judge’s chair. The girl standing opposite me was poised, calm, and full of confidence as she presented her portfolio. I stared at those familiar designs and froze. The rest of the panel gave her high scores. I looked at her and pressed my buzzer: “Eliminated. Next.”

The entire hall fell dead silent. Maya Ross, the judge sitting next to me, leaned over and nudged my elbow. She kept her voice incredibly low. “Elena, are you sure you didn’t make a mistake? Her work just got the highest scores of the night. She got a 9.8 for technique and a 9.7 for creativity. Your instant veto…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but the warning was clear. I laid down my grading sheet and tapped my finger on the design descriptions. “I saw it very clearly.” The girl on stage was Summer Sterling, twenty-three years old, who had just graduated from Parsons School of Design. She wore a sharply tailored black blazer dress, her hair pulled back into a low ponytail. Under the spotlights, she stood tall and sharp, like an unsheathed sword. When she was presenting her work just now, her pace was perfect, and she nailed every single technical term. As the slides of her design drafts flipped by—showing fabric swatches, technical details, and inspiration boards—everything looked flawless. The crowd had applauded several times. But as I stared at those sketches, my hand gripped my pen so hard my knuckles turned white. They were too familiar. The way she handled the pleats, the specific angle of the neckline cut, and even the proportions in the color palette—they were all drawn by my mother. Years ago, my mom used to crouch on the floor of our cramped apartment, working under a dim desk lamp, drawing sheet after sheet. Her fingers were deformed from holding pens for too long, leaving a thick callus on the joint of her middle finger. Every time she finished a sketch, she would hold it up and look at it for a long time. Sometimes she smiled, and sometimes she sighed. Those sketches disappeared later. Along with my mother’s so-called friend, every penny in the workshop’s bank account vanished, along with three registered brand patents. My mom didn’t call the police. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to. She couldn’t. That woman’s name was never on any legal documents. My mom had trusted her so blindly that they never even signed a formal partnership agreement. As a result, the workshop went bankrupt. Suppliers blocked our door, and workers demanded their wages. My mom cleaned toilets during the day and drove Uber until two in the morning. On the night she died, before she walked out the door, she turned and smiled at me. She said, “Elena, after I finish this last ride, I’ll come back and make you something delicious.” By the time I rushed to the hospital, she was already in the ICU. Intubated, pale, and completely unrecognizable. I held her hand, but she could no longer speak. The last message she managed to pass to me through a nurse was: “Don’t be like me. I was too foolish.” And indeed, I didn’t follow in her footsteps. I was not foolish enough to trust anyone. And I certainly wasn’t foolish enough to let my enemy’s daughter win a championship on my stage. “Elena, may I ask for a reason?” Summer stood on the stage, holding the microphone close to her lips. Her voice was steady, but her fingers gripping the mic were tight, her knuckles turning white. I looked up at her. Her face was a carbon copy of her mother, Vivian Sterling, in her youth. “Your work,” I said coldly, “is suspected of plagiarism.” Summer’s face froze. The crowd gasped, and the sound of camera shutters filled the room. “That’s impossible!” Summer’s voice pitched higher. “Every single one of my designs is original. From the mood board to the final drape, I did it all by myself. I have the entire process documented!” Maya nudged me again, harder this time. “Elena, that’s a very serious accusation. Do you want to reconsider?” Ignoring her, I pulled a few sheets of paper from my folder and spread them across the table.

On the left was Summer’s design shown today; on the right were the sketches my mom had drawn years ago. The paper of the sketches had yellowed, and the pencil lines were slightly smudged, but the skeleton of the design was crystal clear. “Your collection is called “Refraction”, and your inspiration is listed as a fusion of origami art and modern structure,” I said, staring at Summer. “But I noticed that the diagonal cut of the collar, the three-piece structure of the sleeves, and the vertical darting on the back are identical to my mother’s designs from ten years ago.” Summer’s face went pale. She parted her lips, but no sound came out. I held up the comparison sheets toward the nearest camera. “These designs were fully prototyped by my mother twenty years ago. The person she was partnering with back then was named Vivian Sterling.” Hearing that name, Summer stumbled back a step. She gripped the edge of the podium, her nails digging into the wood. “Do you know Vivian Sterling?” I asked. Summer’s lips trembled. She lowered her head, then looked up again, the confidence in her eyes completely shattered. “She… she is my mother.” “What a coincidence.” I let out a cold laugh and tossed the papers back onto the table. “Your mother and mine started a garment workshop together back then. My mother was in charge of design and production, while yours handled marketing and sales.” “Just as the business started to thrive, your mother stole all the patent documents, design sketches, and cash overnight, and disappeared.” “That’s a lie,” Summer stammered, her voice shaking. “My mom isn’t that kind of person… She told me that your mother’s poor management ruined the workshop, and she was forced to leave…” “Then tell me, how does a poorly managed workshop manage to secure three registered trademarks and seventeen design patents in just three months?” My voice wasn’t loud, but every word echoed clearly in the quiet room. Summer had no answer. The media in the audience went wild. Reporters began typing furiously on their phones, while photographers pushed forward to get a better shot. On the live-stream platform, the comments were flying across the screen. Summer’s mentor, a middle-aged man with black-rimmed glasses named Professor Harrison, stood up. He cleared his throat. “Elena, could there be some misunderstanding here? Summer has been an outstanding student. Her talent is undeniable. She wouldn’t…” “Professor Harrison,” I interrupted him. “You say her talent is undeniable. But have you actually seen her complete creative process for her graduation project? Is the documentation for every step—from research to sketches, to muslins, to the final garment—complete?” Professor Harrison hesitated. “Well… most students just submit the final pieces. The process files are…” “Which is why I have the complete process files right here.” I pulled a thick stack of papers from my folder. “These are the original manuscripts left by my mother. Every single page is dated and contains revision logs. Miss Sterling’s work shares a seventy-percent similarity with the designs her mother stole from mine.” I slammed the stack of manuscripts onto the table. It wasn’t loud, but it carried immense weight. The air froze. Summer stood on the stage, her lips trembling, her eyes red. But she bit her lip, refusing to let herself cry. “I will say it one more time.” I sat back up, my gaze sweeping over the room. “Summer Sterling is eliminated. Next.” Nobody moved. The host stood frozen on stage, holding the microphone halfway up, completely forgetting to speak. Maya whispered something next to me, but I didn’t care to listen. Suddenly, Summer spoke up. “Elena.”

Her voice was hoarse, but she forced out every word. “I knew absolutely nothing about what you just said. The work I submitted was indeed done by me, independently.” “If you believe there is plagiarism, please show direct evidence that “I” copied it, rather than blaming me because of my mother.” I looked at her. She stared back, her eyes red but her chin held high. In this regard, she was nothing like Vivian. Before Vivian ran off with the money, she had cried like a baby in front of my mother, saying, “Sister, I’m so glad I have you.” Then she turned around and wiped the place clean. “Miss Sterling,” I picked up my glass and took a sip of water. It was just the right temperature. “I have no obligation to prove anything to you. As a judge, I have the right to grade based on my professional judgment.” “Your work is suspected of plagiarism, and I voted to eliminate you. That is well within my authority. If you are unsatisfied, you can appeal to the committee after the show.” I set my glass down and nodded at the host. “Continue.” The host swallowed hard, finally finding his voice. “Right… okay, next contestant, please get ready…” Summer still didn’t move. She stared at me with a complex mix of grievance, anger, and something I couldn’t quite decipher. Probably resentment. After all, this was likely the first time in her life she had been publicly rejected so brutally. But today, she had run straight into a brick wall. “Why are you still standing there?” I shot her another look. “Your evaluation is over.” Summer took a deep breath, turned, and walked off the stage. As she descended, the sharp clicks of her heels on the floor echoed through the quiet room. As the next contestant walked up, I leaned back, my fingers resting on the edge of the grading sheet, my eyes scanning the new girl. She was very young, maybe two years younger than Summer. Her voice trembled when she spoke, but her designs actually had substance. I gave her an above-average score, neither holding her back nor overhyping her. Beside me, Maya wanted to say something several times. During the intermission, she finally couldn’t hold it in anymore. She grabbed my sleeve and pulled me into a corner. “Elena, what the hell are you doing? You were too impulsive today! Summer is Vivian’s daughter. Don’t you know Vivian’s status in this industry?” “She controls half of the supply chain. If you cross her, how are you going to survive in this business?” I looked into Maya’s eyes. They were filled with anxiety and frustration on my behalf. She genuinely cared about me, and I appreciated that. But some things couldn’t be measured by business interests. “Maya,” I gently pulled my sleeve from her grip. “Do you know how my mother died?” Maya froze. She had known me for years, but I rarely mentioned my mother. Every time she asked, I would change the subject. This was the first time I had ever brought it up myself. “She died of overwork,” I said. “Cleaning houses by day, driving Uber by night. On the night she died, she had been driving for eleven consecutive hours. She rear-ended a truck on the highway right after her last trip.” Maya opened her mouth, but no words came out. “She worked herself to death to pay off debts. Debts that Vivian left her.” I turned and walked away, saying nothing more. The afternoon session continued. Summer didn’t return to the audience, and Vivian was nowhere to be seen. But I knew this wouldn’t end here. Sure enough. At eight o’clock that night, my phone started buzzing. The first message was from my business partner: “Elena, this is bad! Go online right now!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469233”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

I was born with sultry bedroom eyes, snow-white skin, and a killer body. In our elite high society circle, this look was branded as “the face of a born homewrecker.” Meanwhile, my half-sister, Chloe Vance, was the epitome of a pure, innocent lily. She was hailed as the “Upper East Side’s Sweetheart” by the debutantes, the exact kind of “classy trophy wife” that wealthy matriarchs dreamed of. With me as her trashy foil, her reputation for grace and virtue spread like wildfire across the city. Everyone said that a cheap, flashy vixen like me was only fit to be a dirty secret—a mistress for some greasy, middle-aged tycoon. That was until Julian Sterling, the most powerful bachelor at the top of the empire, announced a public search for his fiancée. To show off her elegance, Chloe dragged me along to the gala as her personal background prop. Who could have guessed that Julian would declare on the spot that he would propose to me the next day with a billion-dollar dowry? Blinded by jealousy and rage, Chloe immediately packaged me up and sold me to a bald, creepy CEO with some very twisted bedroom fetishes. On the day of the proposal, I stood cold and detached, watching Chloe in her designer gown, eagerly waiting by the entrance. But Julian didn’t come to propose to her. Instead, he kicked the Vance family’s front gates open, his security team tearing down the entire wall of romantic red roses she had set up. “You dared to use a cheap fake to trick me? I will destroy the Vance family for this!”

Chloe sat on the edge of my bed, smiling like a literal angel. “Scarlett, just help me out this once,” she pleaded, blinking her watery, innocent eyes. “The Sterling family is hosting a gala to choose Julian’s fiancée. I need someone to go with me—to balance things out. You get it, right?” I leaned against my headboard, staying dead silent. I knew her little game all too well. Since we were kids, she had been the golden girl of the Upper East Side. Pure, elegant, and generous. And me? I had these feline, bedroom eyes, pale skin that practically oozed a dangerous charm, and a body so curvy that no outfit could fully hide it. I was her perfect contrast. With me standing next to her, she looked like a saint. The snobby elite wives privately called me a “born homewrecker,” whispering that I was only good for being a rich man’s plaything. When Chloe first heard those rumors, she cried, hugged me, and said she was so sorry. Then, she turned around and made sure those exact words spread to every single gossip blog in high society. “Scarlett, are you still mad at me?” She reached out to grab my hand. I pulled away, dodging her touch. “Why should I go?” “Because…” She bit her lip, her eyes pooling with tears as if she were about to break down. “Because I’m begging you. Mom and Dad said if we don’t land this opportunity, our family is completely ruined. Just do it for the family, please.” Here we go again. Looking at her tear-streaked, pitiful face, I remembered how she had cried and begged me ten years ago. She had asked for the necklace my late mother left me, saying she just wanted to wear it once and promised to return it. The very next day, I saw that exact necklace on her best friend’s neck. When I confronted her, she casually said she had lost it at a party. But my mother’s dying words were for me to protect that necklace with my life. “Fine. I’ll go,” I said flatly. Chloe instantly threw her arms around me. “I knew you were the best, Scarlett!” As she turned to leave, I heard her pick up her phone in the hallway. “Mom, she agreed… Don’t worry. A man like Julian Sterling would never look at a girl with a trashy face like hers…” I smiled to myself. Sure. Let’s see about my trashy face. The heir of the Sterling empire was notorious for having impossibly high standards. Rumor had it he had rejected every single debutante on the Upper East Side. Chloe thought this was her golden ticket. She thought bringing me along would make her pure vibe pop, guaranteeing her win. But there was one thing she didn’t know. Three days ago, I received a text from an unknown number: “Miss Scarlett Vance, in three days, I will propose to you in front of everyone.” The sender: “Julian Sterling.” I hadn’t replied, and I hadn’t told a soul. Chloe, you dragged me into this game. I hope you don’t regret it. The scale of the Sterling gala was absolutely insane. The most powerful families in the city had arrived, and luxury sports cars lined the blocks for miles. Chloe wore a trailing, modest white gown. Her hair was down in soft waves, her face barely painted, finished with a nude lip. She looked like a fresh, delicate white lily. She held my arm tightly, whispering, “Scarlett, don’t wander off. Just stick close to me.” I glanced down at myself. I was wearing a slinky black mini-dress, bold red lipstick, and my feline eyes were sharp. I looked like a wicked temptress ready to break some hearts. “Chloe, are you sure you wanted me to wear this?” “It’s perfect,” Chloe said with a sweet smile. “Standing together, we show Julian that the Vance family has every kind of flavor.” Translation: “Look at how pure and classy I am next to this cheap, trashy vixen.” In the bustling ballroom, the debutantes immediately swarmed Chloe. “Chloe, you look gorgeous tonight!” “Julian is definitely going to choose you. Everyone knows he prefers the elegant type.” “Ugh, look at her sister. She’s dressed like she’s heading to a cheap nightclub. Embarrassing for the family.” All eyes fell on me, dripping with mockery. A girl in a pink designer dress giggled behind her hand. “Chloe, why did you even bring her? Aren’t you afraid she’ll try to seduce Julian?” Chloe put on a deeply hurt expression. “She’s my sister. Please don’t talk about her like that.” Keep acting, Chloe. Keep going. I sipped my champagne, saying nothing. My eyes drifted toward the second-floor VIP balcony. A tall, striking figure was leaning against the railing. Julian Sterling. Bespoke black suit, pale skin, and features so sharp they looked sculpted by an artist. He exuded an icy, untouchable authority. He was looking down at the crowd, and his gaze cut straight through the sea of people, locking onto me. Two seconds later, the corner of his mouth twitched upward. That look… it was the look of a hunter spotting his favorite prey. Chloe noticed him too. She immediately straightened her spine, flashing her sweetest, most radiant smile, and gave him a delicate wave. Julian ignored her completely. He turned and walked away. A flash of embarrassment crossed Chloe’s face, but she quickly recovered. “Julian is just like that. So cold, so mysterious. I love it.” Her best friend chimed in instantly. “Of course! He’s the heir to the empire. He doesn’t just wave back at anyone. But you’re different, Chloe. He definitely noticed you.” Right then, the ballroom lights dimmed, and a spotlight hit the grand stage. The head butler of the Sterling family stepped up. “Thank you all for coming. Mr. Sterling has an announcement.”

The entire room fell dead silent. Julian stepped out from the wings, stepping directly into the spotlight. His face was as cold as carved ice. He scanned the crowd and spoke into the mic. “I invited you all here today to announce one thing.” Chloe was so tense she practically dug her nails into my arm. Julian’s voice was smooth, commanding, and unhurried. “The second daughter of the Vance family, Scarlett Vance.” The entire room froze. I could feel a thousand eyes cutting toward me like daggers. Chloe gasped, her grip on my arm slipping away. “What?” Julian looked directly in my direction, his voice echoing clearly through the speakers. “Tomorrow, I will personally visit the Vance estate with a billion-dollar proposal gift.” “Boom—” The entire ballroom erupted into absolute chaos. I could hear the sharp intakes of breath all around me. “Scarlett Vance? That homewrecker?” “No way. Is Julian blind?” The smile on Chloe’s face completely shattered. She whipped her head toward me, her eyes wide with pure, unadulterated shock. “You? How is that possible?” I didn’t say a word, mostly because I was shocked myself. That text… was real? Julian actually wanted to marry me? Julian didn’t look my way again. He turned and walked off the stage, leaving a room full of dumbfounded high-society elites. Chloe stood frozen. Her expression went from shock to boiling rage, and then to absolute humiliation. She had spent a month preparing her innocent look, pulled strings to get this invite, and made sure the whole city knew she was coming to be chosen. And now, Julian had publicly declared he was marrying her “vixen” sister? Her best friend crept closer, her voice trembling. “Chloe… what is going on?” Chloe forced a strained smile, her voice tight. “It’s fine. Julian must have made a mistake.” A mistake? A man like Julian Sterling didn’t make mistakes. On the ride home, Chloe didn’t say a single word to me. She sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, her fingers twisting her designer bag strap so hard her knuckles turned white. I sat in the back, and my phone lit up. A text from Julian: “Have you made up your mind? Will you accept my proposal?” I typed back: “I have. Yes, I will.” “See you tomorrow.” Three simple words, but I could read the underlying intensity. This guy had known exactly who I was from the very start. He had sent that text three days ago, back when everyone was still guessing who his fiancée would be. He had already chosen me. The car pulled up to the Vance estate. The moment I stepped out, Chloe spun around. Her sweet face distorted with malice for a split second before she forced a gentle smile. “Scarlett, I’m so happy for you.” Wow, her acting was top-tier. Happy? The veins on her hand clutching her bag were practically bursting. I didn’t bother calling her out. “Thanks, Chloe.” Chloe reached out and patted my head, smiling sweetly. “We’re sisters, Scarlett. No need to thank me. Oh, by the way, Julian is coming tomorrow. If you need anything, I’ll help you get ready.” Looking at her “sincere” eyes, I sneered inwardly. Chloe, the sweeter you act, the more it means you’re planning something dirty.

Sure enough, early the next morning, a crowd burst into my room. Chloe marched in with a team of makeup artists and stylists, looking as enthusiastic as if she were the one getting married. “Scarlett, today is your big day! I came to help you get ready.” I looked at her with suspicion. “No need. I can handle it myself.” “Oh, come on, I know your face best,” Chloe said, pushing me down into the vanity chair. She turned to the makeup artist. “Make her look as plain as possible. Keep it super light. As for the dress…” She scanned my closet and pulled out a plain white, high-necked dress. “Wear this.” A white, long-sleeved, high-necked dress that went all the way to my ankles. I looked like a nun. I stared at myself in the mirror. My naturally sultry, bedroom eyes had been painted to look like a timid, round-eyed girl. My pale skin was covered in a thick layer of dull, dark foundation, and my red lips were muted with a dry nude lipstick. I looked like a withered flower with its petals ripped off. Chloe nodded in satisfaction. “See? Much better. You look like a respectable girl now.” I got it. She was terrified of me stealing her spotlight, so she deliberately made me look ugly. But she forgot one thing: Julian had publicly demanded me last night. No matter what I wore today, he was coming for me. Chloe seemed to have completely blocked that part out. She ran upstairs to change into her ultimate weapon—a champagne-colored designer mermaid gown with a plunging neckline, her hair pinned up to show off her delicate collarbones. She twirled in front of the mirror, a smug smirk on her lips. Her mother, Victoria, walked in and lowered her voice. “Any word from the Sterling family?” Chloe shook her head. “No. But I did some digging. When Julian announced it last night, he said the ‘second daughter of the Vance family.’ Think about it, Mom. Who is the second daughter?” Victoria frowned. “That useless brat, Scarlett?” “Exactly,” Chloe laughed. “But do you honestly think Julian Sterling would marry someone like her? A girl with a homewrecker face? The Sterling patriarch would never allow it. I bet Julian just threw her name out to piss off his family who’s pressuring him to marry.” Victoria nodded. “So today’s proposal is…” “A total bluff,” Chloe said, touching up her lipstick. “When Julian gets here, he’ll realize that the only woman in the Vance family worthy of him is me.” She checked the clock. “Mom, when Julian sees me standing next to that plain, washed-out vixen, who do you think he’ll choose?” Victoria sneered proudly. “Is that even a question? Unless he’s blind, he’ll choose you.” Downstairs, I was made to sit in the darkest corner of the living room. Nobody even bothered to pour me a glass of water. Chloe sat gracefully on the main sofa, her posture perfect, wearing a sweet smile like a queen waiting for her coronation. Victoria was pacing around. “Are the flowers set up? Is the red carpet laid out?” The maids were scrambling, rolling out a long red carpet from the entrance to the living room, lined with hundreds of red roses. Victoria nodded in approval. “The Sterling family represents ultimate wealth. We must have a grand entrance. Chloe, when Julian arrives, don’t speak too quickly. Let him talk first. Got it?” Chloe nodded. “I know, Mom. Elegant and poised.” “Good. That’s how a real billionaire’s wife should behave.” Victoria cast a mocking glare toward my corner. “Unlike some people, who look like they were born to be cheap mistresses.” I kept my head down, playing on my phone, ignoring them. A message from Julian popped up ten minutes ago: “Arriving at ten.” It was currently 9:55 AM. Suddenly, the roar of multiple car engines echoed from outside. The sound got closer and closer. Victoria clapped her hands in excitement. “He’s here! He’s here! Chloe, stand up!” Chloe stood up, smoothed down her gown, took a deep breath, and put on her flawless, sweet smile. The heavy front doors swung open— And everyone froze. Julian wasn’t there. Instead, eight towering bodyguards in black suits marched in, lining up in two perfect rows. Following them was the head butler of the Sterling family, holding a thick crimson ledger. “Listen closely, Vance family. Here is the list of Julian Sterling’s multi-billion-dollar proposal gifts—”

He began to read the list. Three luxury penthouses in Manhattan, valued at three hundred million. A private island in the Maldives, valued at two hundred million. Ten limited-edition supercars, worth fifty million. Five percent of the Sterling Group’s global shares, valued at one billion. Along with rare diamonds, jewelry, and art, totaling another few hundred million. The living room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Victoria’s jaw literally hit the floor, her eyes bulging with greed. Chloe’s eyes welled with tears, her hand flying to her mouth as her voice trembled. “He… he really is doing this for me…” She actually thought this was all for her. After finishing the list, the butler looked up. “Is Miss Scarlett Vance here?” Chloe instinctively took a step forward, smiling warmly. “I am Chloe Vance.” The butler’s face remained completely stoic. “I asked for Scarlett Vance.” The smile on Chloe’s face instantly died. I stood up from my dark corner. “I’m here.” The butler looked at me, his eyes softening with deep respect. “Miss Scarlett, Mr. Sterling will arrive in ten minutes. Please be ready.” Chloe’s face drained of all color. Victoria rushed forward, grabbing the butler’s sleeve. “Wait! You must have made a mistake! The one Julian wants to marry is my daughter, Chloe!” The butler frowned, pulling his arm away. “Madam, Mr. Sterling made it crystal clear last night that he is marrying the second daughter of the Vance family. Do you have another second daughter?” Victoria choked on her words, speechless. Chloe stood frozen on her own red carpet, her expensive gown suddenly looking utterly ridiculous. Just minutes ago, she was gloating in front of the mirror, thinking she was the star of the show. It turned out none of this was for her. She bit her lip, tears finally spilling over. Looking at her pathetic face, I felt absolutely zero pity. Chloe, this is the trap you set for yourself. Ten minutes passed in a flash. The roar of another engine echoed outside. This time, it was a sleek, pitch-black Maybach with a custom license plate. Everyone in the city knew that was Julian Sterling’s personal ride. The car stopped, and the door opened. Julian stepped out. He wore a bespoke black suit, the diamond cufflinks gleaming in the morning sun. Two assistants followed closely behind, carrying leather briefcases. Chloe rushed to the door, forcing a weak smile. “Julian, welcome to our home.” Julian didn’t even look at her. He walked straight past her into the living room, his sharp eyes scanning the space. “Where is Scarlett?” I stepped out from the corner. “Right here.” The moment Julian saw me, his brow furrowed. He stared at my face for three solid seconds before whipping around to glare at Chloe. His voice was like ice. “Who did her makeup?” Chloe stammered, “I… I just had the makeup artist…” “Wash it off,” Julian cut her off, his tone leaving no room for argument. His assistant immediately stepped forward, handing me a pack of luxury makeup-removing wipes. I blinked in surprise, took the wipes, and slowly wiped away the heavy, dull foundation. My pale skin was revealed once more, and without the muddy eyeshadow, my sharp, bedroom eyes shone with their natural, captivating charm. Julian looked at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Much better.” He waved his hand, and his assistant handed over a document. “Did you review the gift list?” I nodded. “I did.” “Are you satisfied?” Before I could answer, Victoria burst forward. “Julian! You can’t do this! Scarlett… she’s not a respectable girl! Her mother was—” “Shut up,” Julian said. Just two words, but they cut Victoria off like a blade to the throat. She gasped, instantly silenced. Julian turned back to me, his voice softening. “Scarlett, I told you last night I would bring a proposal gift today.” He paused, reaching into his breast pocket, and pulled out a black velvet box. Then, he dropped to one knee. The entire room gasped. Chloe stood on the side, biting her lip so hard it began to bleed. Julian clicked the box open, revealing a flawless, pink diamond ring the size of a quail egg. “Marry me.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469232”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

The very first time the intern participated in a major project bid, she used AI to generate the entire proposal. In my past life, I warned her: “You can’t let AI fill in critical information, and you absolutely cannot let it submit the bid for you.” She promised she understood. But behind my back, she dragged her feet until ten minutes before the deadline, scrambling to upload the files in a panic. The result? Our proposal was disqualified. The company lost a thirty-million-dollar contract. She sobbed in front of everyone. “If Chloe hadn’t kept dragging me down and crushing my confidence, I would have finished it with AI way earlier! How is it my fault we missed the deadline?” My fiancé publicly took her side, forcing me to take the fall. During our argument on the rooftop, he pushed me off the ledge. When I opened my eyes again, I was back to the day she was waving her phone, bragging about her AI tool. This time, I didn’t stop her. I quietly watched her type prompts into her screen, and I even smiled and clapped. “So smart,” I said. “A project this important should definitely be handed over to you.”

“Chloe, look! AI is seriously going to replace all the old-timers now!” Daisy Vance thrust her phone right in front of my face. The screen was practically pressing against my nose. She had been at the company for less than a month. When she smiled, her eyes curved into sweet little crescents, making her look incredibly innocent. But the moment I saw her, a cold shiver ran down my spine. It wasn’t because the office air conditioning was too low. It was because I could still clearly hear the wind howling in my ears from when I fell in my past life. And I could still see Brandon Knight’s face—cold, distant, and completely unrecognizable—as he grabbed my wrist right before the push. He had said, “Chloe, why do you always have to make Daisy’s life miserable?” The next second, he pushed me. Twenty-seven stories high. Before I hit the ground, I didn’t even have time to scream. Now, Daisy was standing in front of me again, beaming with pride as she showed off her AI-generated masterpiece. The screen displayed her chat history with the AI. [Based on the RFP requirements for Evercore Group’s Smart Showroom project, generate a high-scoring proposal. Keep the pricing as low as possible to show our competitiveness.] The AI replied instantly: [Full proposal generated and submitted online. Estimated winning probability: 92%.] Several coworkers immediately gathered around. “Are you serious? It can actually submit the bid too?” “That’s insane! We used to pull all-nighters for these proposals, and now it takes one sentence?” “Daisy, if you pull this off, your full-time offer is guaranteed!” Daisy blushed, soaking in the compliments. She shot a sideways glance at me, her voice dripping with mock sweetness. “Chloe, I know you senior employees like to do things the old-fashioned, cautious way. But times have changed.” “From now on, we can just leave this grunt work to AI. You won’t have to stay up late anymore. Isn’t that great?” In my past life, this was exactly how it went. Back then, I warned her that Evercore Group had made us sign a strict NDA for this project. The bidding documents explicitly stated that core technical plans, pricing structures, and client data could not be uploaded to any third-party tools. Furthermore, the online submission required our secure corporate portal login and a secondary digital certificate. There was no way an external AI could complete the official submission. Daisy had smiled and said she understood. But right after, she ran straight to Brandon’s office to cry. She told him I was bullying the new hire because I was jealous of her efficiency. Brandon was the Vice President of the company. He was also my fiancé. He criticized me publicly during our next meeting. “Chloe, just because you can’t keep up with the times doesn’t mean you should hold the younger generation back.” Because of his interference, Daisy dragged her feet until the last minute before scrambling to compile the actual bid manually. She missed critical legal notarizations, left out the tax rate on the pricing sheet, and wrote the wrong authorized signatory’s name. Evercore Group disqualified us on the spot. She burst into tears and blamed everything on me. I tried to explain, but not a single person stood up for me. To protect Daisy, Brandon tried to force me to sign a written admission of guilt. I refused. He called me up to the rooftop, claiming that if I just took the fall, he could still save my job. I wouldn’t budge. During our struggle, he “accidentally” pushed me over the edge. I died with my name dragged through the mud. Thinking of this, I clenched my fists, my nails digging deep into my palms. Daisy was still waiting for my reaction. She expected me to frown and lecture her like I did before. She even had tears queued up in her eyes, ready to play the victim at a moment’s notice. But this time, I just looked at her and smiled gently. “Impressive.” The entire office went dead silent. Daisy froze. I raised my hands and clapped twice. “Using AI to independently write and submit a bid is indeed much better than staying up all night like the rest of us.” “Since you’re so confident, you will take the lead on the Evercore project from now on.”

The moment the words left my mouth, gasps echoed around the room. A flash of pure ecstasy crossed Daisy’s eyes, but she quickly masked it with fake humility. “Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea… Chloe, you’ve been on this project for three months. I was just trying to help optimize it.” “It’s perfectly fine,” I replied smoothly. “The company needs to give talented young people a chance.” Suddenly, the door to Brandon’s office swung open. He stood in the doorway, his black shirt sleeves rolled up to his forearms. He looked handsome, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. “Chloe, I’m glad you’ve finally come around.” I looked at him. That familiar face now filled me with nothing but absolute disgust. To think I once believed this man was my future. Brandon walked over and naturally stood right next to Daisy. “Daisy is highly efficient and sharp. You should mentor her more.” Daisy lowered her head, her cheeks flushing pink. “VP Knight, I’m just worried I don’t have enough experience.” Brandon smiled warmly. “With me here, what is there to fear?” He didn’t look at me once when he said that. The surrounding coworkers exchanged subtle, knowing glances. I heard someone whisper: “VP Knight is seriously playing favorites with Daisy.” “Well, she’s young, pretty, and knows how to use AI. Who wouldn’t love that?” I didn’t lose my temper. I calmly gathered the project files from my desk, locked them in my drawer, and sent a message to our department’s WhatsApp group. [Chloe Miller: Effective today, Daisy Vance will have full ownership of the Evercore Smart Showroom project. I will only participate as an observer. All subsequent decisions, document submissions, and client communications will be handled by Daisy.] A few seconds later, Brandon followed up: [Brandon Knight: Supported. The company needs to embrace younger talent.] Daisy replied immediately: [Daisy Vance: Thank you for your trust, VP Knight! And thank you, Chloe, for giving me this opportunity. I won’t let anyone down!] Looking at the screen, a slow smile spread across my face. In my last life, I cleaned up all her messes, only to end up as a corpse on the pavement. This time, I couldn’t wait to see how she would land this contract with just her AI tool and zero backup from me. That afternoon, Daisy moved her things straight into my private conference room. That was the war room my team had been using for three months to map out the strategy. The walls were covered with Evercore’s user flowcharts, budget breakdowns, and construction timelines. Daisy clicked in on her high heels, looking at the walls with a disgusted pout. “So many physical paper files. How prehistoric.” She turned to me. “Chloe, can I tear these down? They’re making the room look so cluttered. The logical diagrams my AI generated are way cleaner than this.” I glanced at her and said calmly, “Do whatever you want.” She didn’t expect me to be so agreeable, and her hand paused for a fraction of a second. Brandon walked up behind her. “Since the project belongs to Daisy now, she has the right to organize the room as she sees fit.” He then looked at me, his tone warning. “Chloe, don’t give her attitude.” I smiled. “I’m not giving anyone attitude.” Daisy’s eyes immediately crinkled with delight. “VP Knight, Chloe is just used to the old ways. It takes time to adjust.” Though her words sounded considerate, her actions were ruthless. She began tearing down the charts I had spent weeks preparing, ripping them off the walls one by one. The sound of tearing paper echoed loudly in the quiet room.

One of my team members couldn’t watch anymore and quietly interjected, “Daisy, those are Chloe’s notes on the client’s specific preferences. We might need them later.” Daisy shook her head with a chuckle. “Client preferences? AI can easily analyze that from public data.” “Besides, Evercore is a massive corporation. Their board’s aesthetic is bound to be international, high-tech, and ultra-modern.” I almost laughed out loud. Arthur Sterling, the Chairman of Evercore Group, absolutely despised the so-called “futuristic high-tech” style. He had started his career in traditional manufacturing before successfully pivoting. He wanted this smart showroom to showcase the company’s evolution, not to look like a sci-fi convention. I had personally accompanied him to the site five times. He had told me himself: “I don’t care how advanced the technology is. If it lacks a human touch, it’s trash.” That was why my original concept was “The Legacy of the Forge meets the Energy of the Future.” The first exhibition zone was designed to preserve their old machinery, vintage photos, and the ID badges of their very first employees. From there, digital projections and interactive displays would seamlessly transition visitors into their new clean energy production lines. That was what Evercore actually wanted. But Daisy didn’t know any of this. Because she had never bothered to read the client dossier. She only knew how to ask her AI. Once she cleared out the conference room, she began treating her work like a live stream, constantly bragging about her process. “AI, design a jaw-dropping concept for a smart showroom. Make it as high-end and futuristic as possible.” A bunch of buzzwords quickly populated her screen: “Metaverse.” “Cyberpunk City.” “Interstellar Travel.” “Future Engine.” Daisy’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Amazing! Now “this” is what I call creativity!” I sat quietly in the corner, checking my emails. An email from Marcus Drake, the procurement manager at Evercore, popped up in my inbox. [Hi Chloe, I heard your company suddenly changed the project lead? Chairman Sterling is a bit concerned. Will you still be attending tomorrow’s clarification meeting?] I replied: [I will be there, but I won’t be the main presenter.] Marcus replied almost instantly: [The Chairman only approved the direction you pitched earlier. Are you sure about this?] I glanced over at Daisy, who was currently prompting her AI to “generate a galaxy-class headline for the presentation.” I typed back: [I will bring a backup proposal just in case. It won’t affect your firm’s decision-making process.] After hitting send, I encrypted my true final proposal on my laptop and slipped the printed backup copy into my bag. In my past life, I cared too much about Brandon and the company’s reputation, backing down again and again. In this life, I wouldn’t let anyone use my hard work to score points. And I certainly wouldn’t let Brandon step over my dead body to protect his precious little intern. The next morning, we arrived at Evercore Group for the clarification meeting. Daisy had dressed up in a sharp white designer suit-dress, her makeup flawless, looking like she was ready to accept an award. Before getting into the car, she stood at the entrance of our office and gave me a sweet smile. “Chloe, since I’m presenting today, could you help me click through the slides?” The colleague next to us scowled in annoyance. But Brandon nodded approvingly. “Good. Let’s keep the roles clear.” I took the clicker from her hand. “Sure.” A smug look flashed across Daisy’s face. When we arrived at Evercore, Marcus was waiting in the lobby to escort us. Seeing Daisy leading the group, he paused. “And who is this?” Daisy immediately extended her hand. “Hi Marcus, I’m the new project lead, Daisy Vance.” “You can contact me directly for anything regarding the project moving forward. Chloe will be assisting me.” Marcus’s gaze shifted to me. I gave him a slight nod without offering any explanation. With a complicated look on his face, he led us into the executive boardroom. The room was packed. Arthur Sterling sat at the head of the table. His hair was silver, but his eyes were incredibly sharp. In my past life, after our bid was thrown out, he had called me and asked, “Chloe, is this trash really the best you can do?” Back then, I had no way to defend myself. This time, I wouldn’t let him down. Daisy opened her presentation. The moment the first slide popped up, the room fell into a dead silence.

The title read: [Evercore Group: Interstellar Future-City Immersive Showroom] The subtitle: [Sailing Industrial Civilization into the Edge of the Galaxy] Arthur Sterling’s brow furrowed instantly. Marcus’s mouth twitched. Brandon, sitting beside them, was completely oblivious to the tension and shot Daisy an encouraging look. Daisy cleared her throat, confident and beaming. “Good morning, board members. Our design is inspired by deep space exploration. We want to build a galaxy-class starship showroom for Evercore.” “Walking into this showroom will feel like boarding a spaceship.” She grew more animated as she spoke. “The first zone is called ‘Stargate Activation.’ The second is ‘The Milky Way Factory.’ The third is ‘The Metaverse Lounge.’” “We also plan to implement an AI-generated Virtual Chairman, allowing guests to interact with a younger, digital version of Mr. Sterling.” The moment those words left her mouth, Arthur’s expression darkened completely. He slammed his coffee cup onto the saucer. “A younger version of me?” Failing to sense the danger, Daisy nodded eagerly. “Yes! It’s the digital clone concept that’s trending right now.” “The AI will analyze your public interviews and create a younger, more approachable, and highly tech-savvy digital twin of you to greet visitors.” Arthur let out a cold, biting laugh. “I am not dead yet. Why on earth would I need a fake, digital ghost of myself to greet my guests?” The boardroom turned ice-cold. The smile froze on Daisy’s face. In a panic, she looked at Brandon. Brandon quickly stepped in to smooth things over. “Mr. Sterling, Daisy was simply trying to highlight Evercore’s transition toward a younger demographic. She meant no disrespect.” Arthur ignored him entirely and stared straight at Daisy. “Have you actually done any research on our company?” “We are building this showroom to show the world how we grew from a single metal lathe into what we are today. We are not hosting a sci-fi convention.” Daisy’s face drained of color. She instinctively argued, “But the AI analyzed market trends! Younger clients prefer this high-tech aesthetic.” Marcus couldn’t hold back any longer. “Ms. Vance, this showroom is meant to host government officials, major institutional investors, and industrial partners. It is not an Instagram trap for influencers.” Daisy was spiraling now. She frantically clicked to the next slide. But things only got worse. On the third slide, which showcased “successful case studies,” the logo of Evercore’s fiercest competitor, Vanguard Group, was plastered right in the middle of the graphic. Marcus’s face turned bright red with anger. “What is the meaning of this?” Daisy stammered, “This… this must have been a sourcing error when the AI was compiling the template…” Arthur slammed his hand on the table. “You brought our competitor’s portfolio to pitch to me?!” Brandon’s face finally changed. He hissed under his breath to Daisy, “Skip it! Next slide!” Sweat dripping from her forehead, Daisy frantically clicked forward. The pricing page appeared. Once again, the room fell silent. Total Project Bid: $2.8 million. Marcus burst out laughing. “Ms. Vance, do you even know what our RFP budget is?” Daisy bit her lip. “The AI said… a lower price guarantees a higher chance of winning.” Marcus slid the official RFP document across the table, pointing to the budget page. “Our minimum allocated budget is thirty million dollars. Any bid that falls 80% below the reasonable cost estimate is automatically flagged and disqualified for malicious underbidding.” “What are you planning to build for us with 2.8 million? A cardboard box?”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469230”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Ten years after I stood in for my brother at his own wedding, he suddenly came back. The whole family stared at him in dead silence. He yawned, stretching lazily as he spoke. “Thirteen countries. Man, I am exhausted.” “Where’s Lily? She must be in elementary school by now. Why isn’t she here to greet her real dad?” Lily is my brother’s daughter. Ten years ago, he suddenly announced he had a child. Then, on the day of his wedding, he faked his own death, abandoning both his newborn daughter and his fiancée. The Vance family is New York old money royalty. My parents didn’t dare offend them. Desperate, they practically gift-wrapped me—a fresh college graduate—and shipped me off to the altar. For the past ten years, I’ve been a devoted husband and a loving father. Now, watching my brother act like he owned the place. My parents turned their hesitant eyes toward me. I just smiled faintly. “Lily and her mother are on vacation in the Bahamas.” Hearing this, Julian frowned, his face twisting in annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you guys I was coming home? Didn’t you tell Audrey I’d be back?” I calmly took a sip of my coffee. Ten years of navigating the business world had changed me. I was no longer the invisible, quiet kid living in my brother’s shadow. My silence pushed Julian over the edge. He slammed his hand on the table and stood up, his voice screeching. “Ethan! What is that supposed to mean? Don’t forget, I was the one betrothed to the Vance family! Now that I’m back, did you really think you could keep playing the wealthy son-in-law?” I glanced up at him and chuckled. “Julian, I have no idea what you’re talking about. My wife and I are doing great.” Over the years, I had accompanied Audrey Vance to countless charity galas and high-society events. We were known as the golden couple of New York’s elite. Audrey’s image as a devoted family woman had earned her massive respect—and lucrative deals—from her business partners. Maybe there was no burning romance between Audrey and me, but we shared something far stronger than love. Leverage. Mutual benefit. And that was exactly why I was so confident. Julian looked at me in disbelief. He pointed a trembling finger at my face. “Ethan! Have you no shame? Audrey was supposed to be mine!” I set my coffee cup down and replied calmly, with absolute dignity. “No. Audrey and I are legally married.” My gaze was firm. I stood up, completely done with this circus. Our parents stood by, looking utterly helpless. Julian lunged forward, grabbing our mother’s arm. “Mom! He’s insane! Audrey and I were together all through college! If it weren’t for my connection to the Vances, how could our family business have grown this big?” My parents had always favored Julian. But this time, Mom stole a glance at my cold expression before mumbling in a weak voice. “But… you ran away, Julian. You even faked your own death. We didn’t hear a single word from you for ten years.” “There was no groom at the altar. If Ethan hadn’t stepped in, the Vance family would have been humiliated. They would have ruined us, and our company would have gone bankrupt!” Julian froze for a split second, stammering to defend himself. “I… I just wasn’t ready for marriage back then. But I’m back now, aren’t I?” “Besides, you know how arrogant the Vances are. They always looked down on our family. If I had married into their family back then, I would have been treated like a dog. I would have been humiliated every day!” My eyes grew cold as I asked, “Then why are you back now?” Julian answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because the Vances have accepted you now! That means they’ll accept me too. It’s perfect!” “I’ll take over as Audrey’s husband. I’m sure they won’t treat me too badly now. Lily can finally be with her real dad. It’s a win-win for everyone.” With that, he took a few steps forward and grabbed my hands, looking at me with forced sincerity. “Ethan, you’re free! You can finally go and find your own happiness.” I stared blankly into his eyes. Those clear eyes carried the absolute, cruel naivety of a child who had been spoiled his entire life. A naivety that was sickening. He genuinely believed that I, the neglected younger brother, was born to sacrifice myself for him. With a cold laugh, I yanked my hands away. “I’m perfectly happy with my life, Julian. You’re the one who needs a reality check.” I turned and walked out of that heartless house.

I didn’t care what Julian was feeling behind my back. It couldn’t be anything good. But I knew his stubborn, petulant nature all too well. He wouldn’t give up easily. Exhausted, I drove back to the Vance estate. Lately, I had been buried in corporate projects, working late into the night almost every day. As I walked through the door, I massaged my aching temples. An hour ago, when my parents texted me on Snapchat that my brother was back, my entire body had frozen. I always knew this day might come, but when it actually did, it still caught me off guard. I hung my briefcase on the rack and spotted a pair of high heels on the floor. I blinked, quickly forcing my usual polite, perfect smile onto my face. “You’re back?” a warm voice called out. I turned around. Audrey was wearing a black lace nightgown. Even in simple sleepwear, her stunning curves, porcelain skin, and flawless features were captivating. A gentle smile played on her lips. She frowned slightly, concern washing over her face. “Why do you look so exhausted? Haven’t you been sleeping?” I smiled. “Just too many things at the office. Did you have fun on your trip? How is Lily?” Audrey walked over and slid into my arms. She pressed her face against my chest, her slender fingers gently tracing my back as she whispered, “Lily loved it. She was so tired she fell asleep immediately. The only pity was that you weren’t there. Next time, we’ll go as a family of three.” “I missed you,” she murmured, her voice laced with intimacy. I kissed her soft hair, but my heart felt as cold as ice. When her soft lips pressed against mine, my body stiffened. My mind was completely flooded with the venomous words Julian had said to me earlier. For the first time, I didn’t kiss her back. Instead, I gently pushed her back, creating a small distance between us. “I…” I stopped mid-sentence because I felt Audrey’s body freeze. My sharp instincts told me she was unhappy. After a long, tense silence, Audrey smiled, finding an excuse for me. “You’re just too tired. Go take a shower and get some sleep.” She saved us from the awkwardness. With that, she gave me a quick peck on the cheek and let me go. I nodded and headed upstairs. Behind me, standing in the shadows, Audrey’s expression darkened. The warmth drained from her face as her sharp gaze locked onto my retreating back. The next morning, I drove out of the estate to head to work. Right outside the residential gates, a familiar figure blocked my path. My hands gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turned white. Julian saw my car. He ran straight into the middle of the road, forcing me to slam on the brakes. The cars behind me honked furiously. It was morning rush hour. The neighborhood security guards rushed over, trying to pull Julian away. But Julian fought them off, screaming at the top of his lungs. “Ethan! Stop hiding in your car! You stole my woman! Have you no shame?” His screeching voice drew the attention of everyone nearby. I pulled my car over to make sure I wasn’t blocking the gate, then got out. I glared at him. Julian offered a smug smile, running a hand through his messy hair. He sneered, “What? Embarrassed? Or are you afraid Audrey will dump you once she knows I’m back?” My voice was like ice. “Julian, you are harassing me. This is my final warning. Stay away from me.” Julian didn’t take my warning seriously at all. Instead, his smile turned triumphant. “Stop acting. You’re terrified. You’ve lived in my shadow your whole life, Ethan. It’s only natural that you’d be jealous of me and try to steal my life.” He took a few steps closer, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Too bad a parasite always gets thrown out in the end. I’ll wait right here. When I see Audrey, I’ll explain everything. She’ll take me back.” “And Lily? She’s my daughter. We share the same blood. You’ll never be her real father!” Without a word, I got back into my car and drove off. This time, Julian didn’t block me. In the rearview mirror, I could see him smiling as my car sped away. A chill ran down my spine. Julian had been spoiled since childhood. He had no boundaries. Whenever things didn’t go his way, he threw tantrums like a giant toddler. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down. Over the past ten years, I had poured my heart and soul into this marriage and my career. If we divorced, both Audrey and I would suffer massive financial and reputational losses. Audrey had a family empire to fall back on. But I only had myself.

Sitting in my office, my mind drifted to the past. Back in elementary school, Julian spent every break playing basketball, never touching his homework. Afraid of the teachers’ wrath, he would take my completed assignments and put his name on them. My parents always justified it. They said I was a straight-A student, so the teachers wouldn’t mind if I “forgot” my homework. But Julian was different. If he didn’t hand it in, the teachers would scold him in front of the whole class. A boy’s pride was everything, they said. So, to save Julian’s pride, my hard work was routinely stolen. Eventually, I learned to write two copies of every assignment just to keep the peace. In high school, Julian was the popular kid. He chased the prettiest girls, got into fights, and charmed his teachers. Even though his grades were terrible, his outgoing personality earned him tons of friends. His entire life, someone had always been there to clean up his messes. Meanwhile, I had to walk on eggshells, calculating every single step. In college, he met Audrey Vance at a music festival. They formed an indie rock band and played in local bars. For two months, while I was working three part-time jobs just to afford my tuition, they were living out their wild youth on stage. I thought that once I graduated, I would save enough money to escape my toxic family forever. Until one night, Julian stumbled home late, reeking of alcohol. My parents stayed up to make him soup and undressed him. The whole house revolved around him. But then, a drunken Julian dropped a bomb that shocked everyone. He was going to be a father. For weeks, a suffocating silence hung over the house. My parents were in a frenzy over the sudden scandal. I was busy working my summer jobs to save for my final year of tuition. The only relaxed person in the house was Julian. He had absolutely no concept of what being a father meant. To cover up the scandal, my parents kept him locked in the house. Meanwhile, our family negotiated a marriage alliance with the Vances. They agreed to hold the wedding after a paternity test proved the child was Julian’s. Everything was set. The Vances had reluctantly accepted the arrangement. After all, if the scandal leaked, the Vance family name would be dragged through the mud, and their stock prices would plunge. The night before the wedding, I took a four-hour train ride home to attend. But the next morning, Julian vanished. The bridal suite was left with nothing but baby Lily in her crib and a room full of furious Vances. Audrey’s face was dark, while my parents stood trembling in the corner. Then, their eyes slowly drifted to me. My mother grabbed me as if I were a lifeline. “We have another son! He’s never even been in a relationship! We’ll give him to you to make up for this!” My father immediately chimed in. “Yes! Ethan! Hurry! Your brother is gone. You have to take his place!” I stood frozen, my mind unable to process their words. Before I could speak, my parents grabbed my arms, trying to drag me into the dressing room to force me into a tuxedo. I struggled against them, my heart sinking into a bottomless abyss. Anger and disbelief clashed violently inside me. I had lived the first twenty years of my life in Julian’s shadow. Now, they wanted me to sacrifice the rest of my life for him too? The sheer injustice of it made my throat tight. For the first time in my life, I snapped. I screamed and yanked my hands free. “Why?! Why do I have to pay for his selfishness? This is his mess, not mine!” My father’s hand flew across my face, delivering a vicious slap. “Julian is your family!”

I stumbled back, my cheek burning with pain. My mother sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “What Julian did was terrible, I know! But you can’t just watch our family get ruined! The guests are already waiting in the chapel!” I face went pale. I forced the words out through grit teeth. “I am not getting married!” No matter how much they begged or tried to push me, I refused to budge. I grabbed a fruit knife from the table, pressed the blade against my neck, and hissed with bloodshot eyes, “If anyone forces me, I’ll end it right here!” At that, everyone froze. I didn’t care if they were worried about my life or just terrified of the legal mess a suicide would cause. It didn’t matter. I had already graduated. Once I got a job, my freedom would be absolute. The room fell into a tense standoff. Finally, Audrey suggested we speak in private. Everyone was ushered out of the room. In the dressing suite, only Audrey and I remained. Thirty minutes later. The doors opened. I walked out in a tailored tuxedo, placing my hand flatly in Audrey’s. With a smile that looked more painful than crying, I got married. My thoughts snapped back to the present. I stood by the floor-to-ceiling windows of my high-rise office, looking down at the city. It had taken me ten years of blood, sweat, and tears to earn this office. Just as a sudden chill washed over me, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist from behind. I flinched slightly, but the sweet scent of cherry blossoms immediately put me at ease. “What are you thinking so hard about? You didn’t even hear me walk in,” a soft voice whispered in my ear. I smiled. “Just preparing for the Business Gala tomorrow.” Audrey took my hand, looking up at me with a smile. “I believe in you, Ethan. Your capability is unquestionable.” The corners of my lips curved upward. “Why did you come by the office? Isn’t the headquarters busy?” “It’s fine. I wanted to drive you home. Also, Lily mentioned she wants to see that new movie tomorrow.” I nodded absentmindedly. Audrey leaned up and pressed her lips to mine. I gently ruffled her hair. When we got home that night, there was no sign of Julian. He was surprisingly quiet. I figured my parents had locked him in his room to protect their own business interests. Just like they did years ago. I was physically and mentally drained. The moment my head hit the pillow, I fell into a deep sleep. In the middle of the night, a warm, soft body wrapped tightly around me from behind. The next evening, the grand hall of the annual Business Gala was packed with elite guests mingling with champagne glasses in hand. After doing my rounds of socializing, I took a quick break and headed to the VIP lounge. Lily was sitting obediently on the plush sofa, waiting for me. Her eyes lit up when she saw me. “Are we still going to the movies after this, Daddy?” I smiled warmly, gently tapping her nose. “Of course. Have we ever broken a promise to you?” Lily giggled happily. Seeing her smile eased some of the tension in my chest. Still, since the start of the gala, I had been plagued by an uneasy feeling. Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the heavy doors of the ballroom. As I scanned the crowd, my eyes locked onto a familiar figure, and my entire body stiffened. Not far away, Julian was holding Audrey’s arm, speaking to her urgently. Audrey had her back to me, so I couldn’t see her expression. A second later, Julian spotted me. He pointed a finger at me, his face twisting into a hideous snarl. “I’m your real husband, Audrey! He’s a shameless thief who stole you and our daughter!” In an instant, every eye in the ballroom turned to me.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469229”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

“Mortgage payment alert: $1,500 has been debited. Account holder: Sarah Miller.” I stared at the pop-up notification on my husband’s phone. Sarah Miller. His ex-wife’s name. “$1,500?” I held the screen right up to his face. “Who is this going to?” Mark’s face drained of color. “Chloe, look, I can explain…” “Explain what?” I cut him off. “We’ve been married for five years. You told me your monthly salary was only $2,500, and you’ve been giving me a measly $400 a month for household expenses!” I let out a bitter, lifeless laugh. “Where did the rest of it go? No, wait—this text says $1,500. How much do you actually make?” He didn’t say a word. I looked at him, my heart turning to ice. It took five years of marriage for me to finally realize that my husband had been secretly paying his ex-wife’s mortgage. I stared at that text message for three whole minutes. “Mortgage payment alert: $1,500 has been debited. Account holder: Sarah Miller. Remaining principal: $180,000. Remaining term: 15 years.” Sarah Miller. Mark’s ex-wife. The woman he divorced six years ago. “Chloe, baby, please listen to me…” Mark reached out, trying to grab his phone back. I took a step back, keeping it out of his reach. “Listen to what?” “There’s… there’s a reason for this.” “What reason?” He shut his mouth. I looked closely at the man standing in front of me. We had been married for five years. We had a three-year-old son, Toby. I honestly thought we were a team. A real family. “Mark,” I said, my voice deadpan. “Tell me the truth. How much do you actually make every month?” “Two… two thousand five hundred.” “Liar.” I quickly unlocked his phone and opened his mobile banking app. There was an automatic monthly transfer set up on his payroll account. On the 15th of every month, $1,500 was automatically wired to Sarah Miller. The setup date: March 2019. March 2019. We got married in February 2019. Which meant that from the very second month of our marriage, he had been paying his ex-wife’s mortgage. “Five years,” I said. My voice sounded incredibly calm, almost detached. “It’s been five years.” Mark kept his head down. “How much total?” He didn’t answer. So, I did the math myself. $1,500 times 12 is $18,000. $18,000 times 5 is $90,000. Ninety thousand dollars. “Ninety thousand dollars,” I whispered the number out loud. “You paid ninety thousand dollars for her mortgage.” Mark finally looked up. “Chloe, I owed her.” I froze. “What did you just say?” “When we got divorced, it was my fault. I ruined things,” he said. “We bought that house together, but it was registered under her name. I walked away with nothing during the divorce, but I promised her I’d help pay off the mortgage.” “You promised to pay her mortgage?” “Yes.” “Then why did you marry me?!” He went silent. “Mark, why did you marry me?!” My voice finally cracked, rising in anger. “If you felt so guilty, if you wanted to pay her damn mortgage, why did you drag me into this? Why did you force me to pinch pennies and live like a beggar?!” “Chloe…” “Four hundred dollars!” I screamed, cutting him off. “You gave me four hundred dollars a month for groceries and bills! You made me budget every single cent! I had to buy the cheapest groceries, and I had to wait for clearance sales just to get clothes for our son!” I let out another dry laugh. “I actually believed you made almost nothing. I thought we were just struggling. I never complained once!” “I know…” “You know nothing!” I glared at him. “Do you have any idea what I went through these past five years? When my mom was in the hospital and I asked you for $1,000, you told me we had absolutely no money! I had to borrow it from my friends!” “That time… I was really tight on cash.” “Tight on cash?” I laughed so hard my throat hurt. “You were throwing fifteen hundred dollars at your ex-wife every month, and you told me you were tight on cash?!” Mark stopped talking. The living room went dead silent. I stood there, looking at the man I had lived with for five years. His face suddenly felt completely foreign. “What is your actual monthly salary?” I demanded. He bit his lip. “Answer me!” “…Five thousand five hundred.” $5,500. Not $2,500. $5,500. He was making $5,500 a month. He gave his ex $1,500, gave me $400, and kept the remaining $3,600. What did he do with that $3,600? I tapped back into his banking app and opened his secondary account. The balance: $8,500. I scrolled through his transaction history from the past year: steam game top-ups, expensive bourbon, high-end dinners, golf club fees… I locked the phone and tossed it onto the kitchen counter. “Mark.” “Yeah?” “I need to be alone.” I turned around and walked into the bedroom. As the door clicked shut, I heard his muffled voice from the hallway: “Chloe, please, we need to talk…” I didn’t reply. I lay down on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. Five years of marriage. Every single cent I had saved by skipping meals and buying cheap groceries… He had taken it all and handed it to another woman to pay off her house. Tears finally spilled over and ran down my temples. But I didn’t make a sound. I was only thinking about one thing: What do I do next?

The next morning, Mark called in sick to work. He got up early and made breakfast. “Chloe, eat something,” he said, standing at the bedroom door holding a fresh cup of coffee and toast. “We need to talk.” I didn’t move. “Chloe…” “Mark,” I sat up, looking at him coldly. “Why did you and Sarah actually get divorced?” He blinked, caught off guard. “…We just weren’t compatible.” “Be specific.” He set the coffee and toast down on the nightstand and sat on the edge of the bed. “We had just bought the house back then, and the pressure was insane. She got pregnant, and I didn’t take good care of her. After the baby was born, I was always busy with work and barely home. She had to raise the kid alone and went through a lot.” “So you cheated on her?” “No!” he immediately denied it. “I didn’t cheat. It was… we just fought too much. She was the one who filed for divorce.” “She filed?” “Yes.” He stared at the floor. “During the divorce, she didn’t ask for alimony. She just wanted the house. I felt so guilty for ruining the family that I agreed to pay the mortgage.” “Did your parents know about this?” He nodded slowly. I laughed. “So your entire family knew, and I was the only fool kept in the dark?” “Chloe, I was just afraid you’d overthink it…” “Overthink it?” I stared at him. “Mark, do you really think I’m just ‘overthinking’ this?” He didn’t say a word. I got out of bed and went to the bathroom to wash my face. Through the mirror, I saw him follow me, standing right outside the door. “Chloe, I know I messed up. But my feelings for you are real. I married you because I love you.” “You love me?” I spun around to face him. “You love me, so you lied to me for five years?” “I didn’t lie to you. I just… didn’t mention it.” “Didn’t mention it?” I scoffed. “You told me you made $2,500 when you made $5,500. You told me we were broke while you sent $1,500 to your ex every month. You call that ‘not mentioning it’?” “I…” “Mark, let me ask you a question.” “Go ahead.” “How old is your kid with your ex now?” His face shifted nervously. “…Eight.” “Eight years old,” I nodded. “You divorced six years ago, which means he was two back then. Now he’s eight.” “Yeah.” “In these past six years, how many times have you actually seen him?” He went quiet for a long time. “…Not many.” “How many is ‘not many’?” “…Maybe two or three times a year.” “Two or three times a year,” I repeated. “Mark, you pay her mortgage because you ‘owe’ her. But what about your own son? How much do you owe him? How many times have you actually been a father to him?” He remained silent. “Or maybe…” I glared at him. “It’s not about guilt at all. Is there another reason?” “What other reason?” “You know exactly what I mean.” I pushed past him and walked out of the bathroom. He chased after me. “Chloe, you’re making things up. We don’t even talk anymore.” “You don’t talk?” I stopped in my tracks. “Then what’s that locked, encrypted photo album on your phone?” His face turned instantly pale. “You… you saw it?” “No, I didn’t,” I said. “But I really want to see it now.” He stood there like a statue. I held out my hand. “Show me.” “Chloe…” “Mark, if you don’t show me right now, I’ll just assume the two of you are still sleeping together.” He hesitated for a few agonizing seconds. Then, slowly, he pulled out his phone and unlocked the private album. There were over a hundred photos inside. All of them were of a young boy, tracing his growth from a toddler to an eight-year-old. “This is… your son, Leo?” “Yes,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “She… she sends me updates regularly.” I scrolled down. Below the photos were screenshots of their text messages. *“Mark, Leo is walking now.”* *“Mark, Leo started preschool today.”* *“Mark, Leo is asking when you’re coming to see him.”* The most recent text was from two months ago: *“Mark, Leo has a really high fever. I can’t handle this alone at the hospital.”* Below that was Mark’s reply: *“I’m on a business trip right now, but I’ll come over as soon as I get back.”* I slowly put the phone down. “Mark.” “Yeah?” “You told me you guys don’t talk.” He hung his head. “You call this not talking?” “It’s… it’s only about the kid.” “Only about the kid?” I let out a mocking laugh. “Mark, do you remember last week when Toby had a fever? I called you crying, and you told me you were in an important meeting and hung up on me.” His face twisted with shame. “You’re so quick to care for your ex-wife’s kid, but what about our son?” “That’s not true…” “It is true!” I snapped, cutting him off. “It is absolutely true, Mark. You know it.” I grabbed my purse. “Where are you going?” “To work.” “Chloe…” “Mark, I need some space to think. We’ll talk tonight.” I slammed the door behind me. Once I reached the apartment gate, I pulled out my phone and called my best friend, Rachel. “Rachel, do you know anyone who can pull property records for me?” “What’s going on?” she asked, instantly sensing the tension. “I need to check the deed on Mark’s ex-wife’s house. I want to see whose name is actually on it.” The line went quiet for a few seconds. “Chloe… did you find something?” “Yeah.” “Son of a bitch,” Rachel cursed. “I’m on it. Give me an hour.” After hanging up, I stood by the curb. The cool spring wind blew across my face, but I couldn’t feel it. One terrifying thought kept looping in my mind: If that house is solely in the ex-wife’s name… Then for the last five years… Have I been working myself to the bone just to buy her a house?

By the afternoon, Rachel texted me. “I found it. The house is on the Westside. 1,300 square feet. Registered owner: Sarah Miller.” Sarah Miller. His ex-wife. “What about the mortgage details?” I typed back. “Monthly payment is $1,600. It’s been active for six years. The primary borrower is Sarah, but there’s a co-signer.” “Who?” “Mark Harrison.” I stared at the screen. Co-signer. Which meant he wasn’t just “helping her out.” He was legally obligated to pay it. “There’s more,” Rachel texted. “The house was bought in 2017 for $450,000. Down payment was $120,000. Guess where the down payment came from?” “Tell me.” “A wire transfer of $60,000 came directly from Mark’s account to Sarah’s, marked ‘Down Payment Contribution.’” I went numb. “$60,000?” “Yep. March 2017. Mark wired $60,000 to Sarah.” 2017. They weren’t divorced yet back then. And I didn’t even know Mark existed. “Chloe, are you okay?” “I’m fine.” “Do you want to come over to my place? Let’s grab a drink.” “No, it’s fine. I just need to sit with this for a bit.” I hung up and sat down on a bench outside my office building. My mind was a chaotic mess. A $120,000 down payment. A $1,600 monthly mortgage. Paid for six years. This meant Mark had funded the down payment and had been paying the mortgage on this house the entire time. But the deed only had his ex-wife’s name on it. And during the divorce, his ex “didn’t ask for anything but the house.” Unbelievable. “Didn’t ask for anything.” Except for a house that he bought and was still paying for. I started laughing out loud. A few passersby glanced at me like I was crazy. Honestly, I felt crazy. I was laughing at how incredibly stupid I had been. For five years, I thought I married a decent, hardworking, simple guy. Sure, he didn’t make much, but he was stable. He gave me $400 a month for expenses, and even though it was tight, we made it work. Never in my wildest dreams did I think… He was financially supporting another woman. No, not just any woman. His ex-wife. What was this? Emotional cheating? Financial infidelity? Or had he simply never left his first marriage? My phone buzzed. It was Mark. I picked up. “What?” “Chloe, where are you?” “At work.” “My mom wants to come over for dinner tonight. Can you…” “Mark,” I cut him off. “Yeah?” “Your mother knows you’re paying Sarah’s mortgage, doesn’t she?” There was a long silence on the other end. “…Yes.” “And what does she say about it?” “She… she thinks that since I broke up the family, it’s only fair that I pay.” “Fair?” I laughed bitterly. “Mark, you paid $60,000 for the down payment on that house. Did you know I found out about that?” He didn’t say anything. “You knew, didn’t you?” “…Yes.” “And you still claim you ‘owe’ her? You paid the down payment, you pay the monthly mortgage, the house is in her name, she gets the house in the divorce, and you keep paying—how on earth do you owe her?!” “Chloe, you don’t understand…” “What don’t I understand?!” “I… I was the one who initiated the divorce.” I froze. “You initiated it? You told me she divorced you!” He stayed quiet for a painful amount of time. “…I lied to you.” “What else did you lie about?” “I initiated the divorce because… because I had already met you.” My head started spinning. “Mark, say that again.” “I met you first, and then… then I filed for divorce.” “So… you cheated on her with me?” “No, it wasn’t cheating! We were just… we were just talking! Nothing physical happened!” “Mark.” “Yeah?” “You told me you divorced because of ‘compatibility.’ You told me she dumped you. You told me you never cheated.” I took a deep breath to steady my shaking voice. “How many more lies have you told me?” “Chloe, I…” “Tell your mother not to come tonight,” I said coldly. “I don’t want to see anyone.” I hung up. I sat on the bench, watching the traffic go by. Only one thought consumed me: *Mark, who the hell did I actually marry?*

When I got home that evening, Mark was already there. He had cooked a massive dinner. “Chloe, let’s eat first.” I didn’t move. “Mark, tell me the whole truth about you and Sarah.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Sit down.” I sat on the couch. He sat opposite me and lit a cigarette. “We got married in 2016. In 2017, we bought the house, and it was put in her name.” “Why only her name?” “She said… she said women need security. She said she’d only feel safe if her name was on the deed.” “And you just agreed?” “At the time, it didn’t seem like a big deal. We were married. We were a family.” I kept quiet, letting him continue. “In early 2018, Leo was born. But I was under so much pressure at work and working late constantly. She was exhausted taking care of the baby alone. We fought every single day.” “And then?” “Then… in late 2018, I met you.” He looked up at me, his eyes pleading. “Chloe, the first time I saw you, I just felt… you were so different from her. You were gentle, understanding, and sweet.” “So you decided to cheat.” “I didn’t cheat!” he protested desperately. “We only texted and grabbed coffee a few times. Nothing happened!” “But you divorced her for me?” He nodded slowly. “I filed for divorce. She… she refused at first. But I was set on leaving.” “How did you get her to sign if she refused?” “I told her… I told her she could keep the house, and I would continue paying the mortgage. Only then did she agree to sign the papers.” I closed my eyes, feeling sick to my stomach. “Mark.” “Yeah?” “Do you have any idea what kind of person you are?” He didn’t answer. “You are a liar and a coward.” I opened my eyes and looked at him. “You lied to Sarah. You emotionally cheated on her, but you told her it was just ‘compatibility issues’ to ease your guilt. You used the house and the mortgage to buy your way out of that marriage.” “And then you lied to me. You played the victim, pretending to be some innocent, brokenhearted guy who got dumped. You told me you made $2,500. You told me you had no contact with her.” “You lied to everyone.” “Chloe, I never wanted to hurt you…” “You didn’t want to hurt me?” I laughed. “Mark, you lied to me about your own salary! How do you have the nerve to say you didn’t want to hurt me?” “I was just afraid you’d leave…” “Leave?” I stood up, towering over him. “Mark, you’ve paid ninety thousand dollars for your ex’s mortgage over the last five years! Meanwhile, you gave me four hundred dollars a month to run a household! You made me starve myself, and when my own mother was hospitalized, you told me we had no money! What did you expect me to do?!” He kept his head down, unable to look at me. “Let me ask you this,” I said, my voice cold. “How many years are left on that mortgage?” “…Fifteen years.” “Fifteen years,” I nodded. “So, if I hadn’t caught you, you were planning to pay her mortgage for another fifteen years?” He didn’t reply. “Fifteen hundred times twelve, times fifteen,” I calculated. “That’s two hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Plus the ninety thousand you already paid. That’s three hundred and sixty thousand dollars in total.” “Chloe…” “Mark, you are literally buying a $360,000 house for your ex-wife.” “It’s for my son…” “For your son?” I sneered. “Her name is on the deed, not his! How can you say it’s for him?” He had no answer. “And even if it was for him,” I stepped closer, “what about our son, Toby? What have you bought for him?” His face went completely white. “Mark, listen to me very carefully.” I bent down, forcing him to look into my eyes. “I don’t care what you owe her. But what you owe me for the past five years—that ninety thousand dollars—I want my half back. Forty-five thousand dollars.” Panic filled his eyes. “Chloe, what do you mean?” “What do I mean?” I stood up straight, my decision clear. “I want a divorce.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469228”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

Before going to sleep, I ran my hand down Logan’s smooth back. Suddenly, something felt off. “Babe, did you pop that pimple on your back yourself?” His body stiffened for a fraction of a second. Then, he let out a casual laugh. “Oh, I probably just scratched it in the shower. It’s nothing.” I stared at the brown heart drawn in iodine around the wound, complete with a neat signature next to it: *Bianca*. “Okay,” I murmured, keeping my voice flat, and didn’t say another word. Soon, his breathing turned heavy. I quietly slipped out of bed and headed down to the garage. Logan was always a very meticulous man. That pimple had been on his back for days. He was so terrified of infection that he wouldn’t even let me touch it. I had specifically bought a special ointment to put on him, but now, the pimple was suddenly gone. The iodine was painted perfectly in the shape of a heart. Even if Logan had eyes on the back of his head, he couldn’t have drawn that himself. The more I thought about it, the wider awake I became. Down in the dark garage, the blue light of the dashcam in Logan’s car flickered silently. My hands were freezing, and I almost didn’t have the strength to open the car door. I went through the dashcam footage. The most recent recording was from months ago. With Logan’s paranoid and cautious personality, he wouldn’t even drive the car if the dashcam was broken for a single day. My gut told me this was no accident. Returning to the bedroom, I couldn’t help but reach for his phone on the nightstand. The passcode was still my birthday. The lock screen was still the scenic photo we took during our trip to Switzerland years ago. But I felt like everything had changed. I took a deep breath and opened his Snapchat. The recent chats were all with mutual friends and colleagues. Not a single suspicious person. I frowned. Was I really overthinking this? Just then, a notification popped up. A girl named *Bianca 3.18* had just liked his latest Snap Story. I tapped on her chat profile. There was not a single message between them. “3.18” must be a nickname Logan added. If I guessed correctly, it was her birthday. I stared at the name for a long time. Suddenly, I noticed a gray bell icon with a slash through it next to her name. It was the mute icon… Why would you mute someone you’ve supposedly never exchanged a single word with? Logan suddenly rolled over and half-opened his eyes. “Chloe, what’s wrong?” I didn’t say anything. I just gently placed his phone back on the nightstand. But he woke up instantly. “Are you checking my phone?” He let out a huge yawn and pulled me into his arms. “So my wife actually checks my phone. I thought you didn’t care about me at all.” “Check it tomorrow morning, okay? I’m completely innocent. You can dig through whatever you want.” I gently wriggled out of his embrace. “No, I just grabbed the wrong phone by mistake.” The next morning, Logan generously handed his phone to me. He had a huge smirk on his face. “You know the passcode. Take your time.” Then he turned around and went into the kitchen to warm up some milk and toast. His calmness carried a hidden smugness—the confidence of a man who believed everything was under his absolute control. I didn’t touch his phone. Instead, I went back to the bedroom and grabbed an iodine-tipped cotton swab. “Logan, let me put some more iodine on your back. We don’t want it getting infected.” He paused, his eyes darting away. “No need to bother. It’s probably already healed.” He walked out of the kitchen with breakfast, pushing a plate of sunny-side-up eggs in front of me, smoothly changing the subject. “Eat up. It’s going to get cold.” I took two bites and immediately lost my appetite. “Logan, leave the car keys with me today. I need to go to the hospital for a check-up.” “Sure, just drive safely.” The second Logan stepped out of the door, I drove the car straight to the auto repair shop. I had them install a brand-new dashcam of the exact same model. Then, I called my sister. “Maya, I need you to help me look into Logan…” From the very beginning, Maya had disliked Logan. She thought he was just a social climber who married up, and we had fought bitterly over him back then. Hearing my request now, she couldn’t help but sigh. “Chloe, what did he do?” “I think he’s cheating.” Maya let out a cold laugh. “He dares? Don’t worry, Chloe. I’ll find someone to dig up everything on him.” Part of me hoped she would find nothing. But my gut told me this was just the tip of the iceberg.

After getting the new dashcam installed, I drove to the office. Since my eye surgery six months ago, this was the first time I had stepped foot in the company. I noticed a new boutique café had opened downstairs. My husband, who never drank coffee and only drank tea, had somehow become a regular there. Logan was in a meeting, but there were two coffee cups sitting on his desk. The paper cups had “The Frosted Cup” printed on them. The name felt strangely familiar. Instead of waiting for Logan to finish his meeting, I went downstairs and walked into the café. The owner was wearing a white cotton dress. When she bowed her head, her waist-length hair fell forward, covering half of her face. I glanced at the barista certification hanging on the wall. The name read: *Bianca Yuan*. So she was Bianca? My heart skipped a beat. I ordered a black coffee, found a corner seat, and quietly opened Twitter. Sure enough, due to the location tagging, Twitter’s algorithm quickly pushed the café owner’s profile to my feed. There was a video with tens of thousands of likes. Bianca was showing off half a wall filled with limited-edition designer toy figures. “Super cute, right? My husband bought all of these for me! There’s still half a wall left. Keep working hard, babe!” As fate would have it, those figures were the exact products our company manufactured. Several of them were extremely rare, out-of-print editions that even I couldn’t get my hands on. I clicked on her profile and saw a video she had posted just this morning of her brewing a pot of herbal tea. “With this hot and humid weather, my husband has been getting breakouts on his back. I’m brewing some herbal tea to clear out the toxins for him.” My fingers turned white from gripping my phone too tightly. My chest felt incredibly tight. The thought of her delicate hands caressing my husband’s back made me feel physically sick. The moment Logan’s meeting ended, he called me. “Sarah said you came to the office. Why didn’t you wait for me?” I clenched my fist and said, “I am waiting. I’m at the café downstairs. Come join me when you’re done.” His voice sounded frantic. “Why are you down there? Come up to the office. I’ll take you out for lunch.” “We have to go downstairs anyway. Let’s just meet at the café.” He let out a nervous cough. “Uh, Sarah just dropped a sudden meeting on me. Why don’t you wait in my office?” “No rush. See you downstairs.” Logan dragged his feet for thirty minutes before finally showing up, looking incredibly reluctant. The moment Bianca saw him, her face lit up with pure joy. But Logan pretended not to see her. He kept his head down and walked straight toward me. “Let’s go. I’m starving.” I smiled, turned toward the counter, and called out, “Excuse me, do you have any iced herbal tea? My husband doesn’t drink coffee. Any herbal drink will do.” Bianca froze. Within seconds, her eyes welled up with tears. She stammered, “No… we don’t have that.” Logan ignored the sheer heartbreak in her eyes and pushed me toward the door. “It’s a coffee shop. Why are you asking for herbal tea? You’re just making things difficult for her.” During lunch, Logan was completely distracted. He kept checking his phone every few seconds, his brow furrowed deeply. “Babe, what are you so busy with?” I casually dropped a piece of pickled jalapeño into his bowl. He was so glued to his screen that he shoved it into his mouth without looking. Immediately, he started coughing violently, his face turning bright red. He had to chug several glasses of water before he could breathe again. “Logan, don’t be greedy,” I said smoothly, wiping my mouth. “Trying to work while you eat… you might end up biting off more than you can chew.” Logan snapped his head up to glare at me, but I ignored him and unlocked my phone to text our HR director. [Hi Chloe, I wanted to discuss the Thanksgiving gift baskets. We picked out a few high-end vendors, but Logan said not to bother and told us to just order gift cards from the café downstairs.] [But we are a major startup now. Don’t you think we should order from a recognizable brand? The employees would appreciate it much more.] I let out a cold laugh. This man was actually using my company’s money to pamper his mistress. What did all our years of building this company together mean to him? [Send me the list of premium vendors. Our employees deserve the absolute best!]

Neither of us touched much of our food. I tossed the car keys to Logan and took a cab home by myself. Watching him hurry off to comfort Bianca, I felt completely numb. Maya had connections everywhere. It didn’t take long for her to send me a massive file. The moment I answered her call, she was screaming with rage. “Logan is an absolute piece of garbage!” “You built Dreamscape Media from the ground up with your own sweat and tears! Just because you took a step back due to your illness, he actually thinks he runs the place? He needs to look in the mirror! How dare he cheat on you!” “Maya… did he really…” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t bring myself to say the words. “He’s incredibly cautious. I haven’t found the smoking gun yet, but he will slip up eventually.” I let out a long sigh. Deep down, I realized I was still holding onto a sliver of hope. “There’s a high-end ‘Best of Panama’ coffee bean auction tonight. I saw Bianca’s name on the guest list. With her tiny shop’s revenue, there’s no way she can afford to be there. Logan must be going with her.” “I’ll send you the address and the details. If you need me to back you up, just say the word.” The auction hall was packed. The event was even being livestreamed to millions of viewers online. Standing in a quiet corner, I instantly spotted Bianca in the VIP section. Logan was sitting right next to her. They were whispering and giggling together. Clearly, their lunchtime drama was already forgotten. Bianca’s smile was sweet, and she even grabbed Logan’s hand in excitement at one point. I pulled out my phone and called my private banker. “Freeze my husband’s secondary card. Right now.” The highlight of the evening was the bidding for this year’s exclusive Panama Nido7 coffee beans. The starting bid was a staggering fifteen thousand dollars per kilogram, with the total package valued at over three hundred thousand dollars. The auctioneer was on stage passionately describing the flavor profile. I just shook my head. At that price, they weren’t drinking coffee; they were drinking liquidated cash. The bidding started, and Bianca immediately raised her paddle. “One hundred and sixty thousand!” “One hundred and seventy thousand,” a calm voice countered from the back. It turned out she wasn’t the only one wanting to flaunt their wealth. After a few rounds, Bianca pouted. She clung to Logan’s arm and whined, “Babe, he’s bullying me.” Logan looked at her with pure indulgence. “If you behave tonight, I’ll go up to two hundred thousand.” Blushing, she kissed him on the cheek and raised her paddle. “Two hundred thousand!” The other bidders immediately backed down. “Bianca is so lucky! Her husband spoils her to death!” “He didn’t even blink at spending three hundred grand!” Congratulations echoed through the room. My chest felt so tight I could barely breathe. The media rushed forward to interview Bianca. She tucked her long hair behind her ear and spoke with practiced elegance. “Nido7 is more than just coffee. If you’ve ever been to Panama and seen the mist-covered estates, the elegant white blossoms, and the dew-kissed fruit, you’d understand what a dream it is.” “I am incredibly grateful to the most important person in my life. He has always supported my dreams.” “I’d also like to take this opportunity to announce that next year, The Frosted Cup will expand to thirty locations nationwide. We will become leaders in this industry.” The crowd erupted into thunderous applause. She looked at Logan, her eyes brimming with love and adoration. Logan smiled back warmly. “As long as you’re happy, baby.” As the applause died down, I slowly stood up and began to clap. My slow, mocking applause instantly drew annoyed looks from the crowd. Logan frowned and turned around. The moment his eyes met mine, he visibly paled.

Everyone’s eyes fell on me. The heavy sarcasm in my applause was impossible to miss. Sensing a juicy scandal, a reporter quickly shouted: “Ma’am, are you unhappy with the results of the auction?” I smiled and looked directly at Logan. He instantly let go of Bianca’s hand and crossed his arms defensively. Bianca quickly looked down, grabbing her purse as if trying to flee. “I was just wondering,” I said loudly, “what happens if Bianca can’t actually pay for those beans?” Both of them snapped their heads up, glaring at me with pure venom. The host, trying to prevent a scene, quickly intervened. “Ma’am, if you have questions about the bidding process, please ask privately. Do not disrupt the event.” But my question had already sparked whispers in the crowd. “Why bid if you can’t pay? That’s so embarrassing.” “Exactly. Even though The Frosted Cup is a nobody shop, she clearly has a sugar daddy. If she can’t pay, her husband definitely will.” “She’s just a hater trying to make a scene. How pathetic.” I cleared my throat and said calmly, “Bianca, your café has been open for six months. Your monthly revenue is barely three thousand dollars, but your rent is twenty-five hundred. Considering other operating costs, you’ve been losing money every single month, haven’t you?” Having her secrets exposed in public made Bianca’s chest heave with anger. “What does that have to do with you?” I nodded. “Normally, how much money you lose is none of my business. But I am genuinely curious—with that kind of business model, how do you expect to pay for a three-hundred-thousand-dollar order of coffee beans?” Bianca’s face flushed red. She tugged at Logan’s sleeve, tears of humiliation pooling in her eyes. But Logan stood there like a statue, completely frozen. I pressed on relentlessly. “What’s the point of pulling my husband’s sleeve? His annual salary at my company is only one hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Were you planning to make him spend two years of his salary just to buy you some coffee beans?” The crowd went wild. “And here I thought it was some high-end romance. Turns out it’s just a cheap sugar daddy funding his side chick!” “That home-wrecker is so shameless! Flaunting her affair on a live broadcast!” “I knew she didn’t look like real money. No wonder she kept bidding so aggressively.” Bianca stood there helplessly, looking like a fragile white flower trapped in a storm. With tear-filled eyes, she looked at Logan. “Just go… you can’t beat her. I can’t bear to watch everyone attack you because of me. I really can’t.” Logan’s eyelashes fluttered violently. His body tensed, and finally, losing all control over his emotions, he pulled her tightly into his arms. He gently wiped her tears. “You are not a home-wrecker. I said you aren’t, so you aren’t.” A sharp pain shot through my chest. For her, he was willing to throw away every last shred of his dignity. “Logan,” I called out softly. “Don’t you think you should figure out how you’re going to pay first?” An auction staff member ran out, looking panicked. “Miss Yuan, the payment card you provided earlier… it’s been declined.” Logan glared at me with an intensity that screamed pure hatred. The girl in his arms whimpered, “Forget it, Logan. We can’t beat her. I don’t want the deposit back.” But his pride was utterly shattered, driving him to madness. “Don’t worry, Bianca. I will secure the funds before the deadline. These beans are yours.”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469227”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster

My best friend had been secretly married for three years, yet she bragged about her “amazing husband” to me every single day. She always said her husband was incredibly attentive. He would cook for her in the middle of the night, keep track of her period, and cancel important meetings just to be with her whenever she felt down. I used to tell her how lucky she was. Meanwhile, my own husband, Ethan, was always too busy for me. Until the day I had a miscarriage. I couldn’t reach Ethan. I couldn’t reach my parents either. In the end, the person who showed up at the hospital to sign my emergency admission papers was my best friend, Serena. She rushed into the ward, signing her name on the guarantor line. As I stared at the signature on the carbon copy, my heart sank. I knew that handwriting all too well. It was identical to my husband’s. I tried to tell myself it was just a coincidence. But after I was discharged, I went to Serena’s apartment to pick up a bag I had left behind. While looking for it, I found a pregnancy photoshoot tucked away in a drawer. In the photo, my parents were sitting right next to her. And Ethan’s hand was resting gently on her swollen belly. On the back of the photo, a line was written in that same handwriting: *Finally, a complete family.* It turned out that all these years, Serena wasn’t bragging about her own happiness. She was bragging about the love my husband was giving her. My most trusted best friend, my beloved husband, and even the parents who gave birth to me—they had all aligned against me long ago. At that moment, I finally realized something. I hadn’t just lost a baby. I had lost the entire life I spent eight years building with my own hands. …

I went home clutching the photo. The entire drive back, every single word Serena had ever said to me kept flashing through my mind. She once told me that when she had bad cramps, her husband would get up in the middle of the night to brew her hot ginger tea. On that exact night, I was curling up in pain in my own bed, calling Ethan. He told me he was at a business dinner and couldn’t make it home. She said when she had a high fever, her husband stayed up all night watching over her until his eyes were bloodshot. On that exact day, my stomach pain was so bad I couldn’t even stand. I texted Ethan, and he only replied: *Make sure to take some pills.* She said when she was in a bad mood, her husband canceled his meetings to take her to the beach. That day was my birthday. Ethan had promised to take me out for dinner, but at the last minute, he texted saying something came up at the office and told me to eat the cake by myself. Then Serena called me, her voice dripping with sweet vanity. “Chloe, my husband just took me out for dinner. Now he’s insisting on taking me to the beach for the night breeze. It’s so annoying.” Back then, I actually laughed and said: “Well, that’s a happy problem.” Looking back, every single word felt like a brutal slap to my face. Ethan wasn’t too busy. He just gave all his time to her. I was sitting on the couch, my hand trembling as I held the photo, when my phone suddenly rang. The caller ID showed: *Ethan*. I stared at the screen for a few seconds before swiping to answer. “Chloe?” His voice was as gentle as always, filled with that comforting tone he always used. “Why didn’t you call me when you woke up? I just got out of a meeting and saw the notification from the hospital.” I said nothing. He paused, his tone softening even more. “I’m so sorry, babe. My phone was on silent during the presentation, so I missed your calls. I contacted your parents too. They said they were on their way to visit an old friend and didn’t check their phones.” “How are you feeling? What did the doctor say?” “Does your stomach still hurt?” “I had the housekeeper make some soup for you. I’ll be home to keep you company later, okay?” He asked so many detailed questions, sounding like the most caring husband in the world. If I didn’t have this photo in my hand, I would have believed him. I asked quietly, “Ethan, were you really that busy today?” There was a brief silence on the other end. Then, he let out a soft laugh. “Of course I was. Why are you asking all of a sudden?” “Are you just feeling down because of the miscarriage? Don’t overthink things, Chloe.” “Be a good girl and don’t overanalyze. I’ll be home soon.” I closed my eyes. “Okay.” He sounded relieved. “Good girl. Wait for me.” After the call ended, the living room fell into a suffocating silence. I slowly put my phone down as more details flooded my brain. I remembered finding a faint trace of baby powder scent on Ethan’s shirt. I remembered seeing a tiny toy car in the backseat of his car. I remembered how he would occasionally step out to the balcony to answer calls, keeping his voice incredibly low. Whenever I asked, he would always say it was just a client. And I believed him. Because I never had a reason to doubt him. And I certainly never expected Serena to be the one to stab me in the back.

I put the pregnancy photo in my bag and drove to my parents’ house. My mom was in the kitchen preparing dinner. When she saw me walk in, she froze for a second, then quickly walked over. “Chloe! Why are you running around right after being discharged? Do you not care about your health?” I looked at her, suddenly wanting to laugh. Yesterday, when I was lying outside the operating room waiting for someone to sign my papers, her phone was dead. Now she suddenly cared about my health. I didn’t answer her. I just threw the photo onto the dining table. “Mom, explain this.” Her face went completely pale. My dad, who was reading the tablet on the couch, looked up. The moment his eyes hit the photo, his eyebrows knitted tightly. The living room went dead silent. My mom reached out to grab the photo, trying to hide it. “Where did you find this?” “That doesn’t matter,” I stared at her. “I asked you, what is this?” Her lips trembled, but she couldn’t find her words. My dad spoke up with a cold, stern face. “You just had a miscarriage. Your emotions are unstable. Don’t start imagining things over an old photo.” An old photo. So it was true. I looked at him, my voice tight. “When was this taken?” No one answered. I asked again, louder, “When was this taken?!” This time, my mom whispered, “Three years ago.” My fingers shook, my nails digging deep into my palms. Three years ago. Which meant that back when I knew absolutely nothing, they were already standing together, taking a happy family portrait. My throat felt tight. “You guys knew all along?” My mom avoided my gaze. But my dad didn’t even bother to deny it anymore. “Yes, we knew.” “Serena was pregnant back then, and it wasn’t easy for her to handle it alone. Ethan was worried, and we couldn’t just turn our backs on her.” It felt like a physical blow to my face. My ears were ringing. “So you went to her prenatal checkups, took family photos with her, and played happy family?” My mom lost her patience. “Chloe, don’t make it sound so ugly. You know what kind of person Serena is. She has always been sweet and helpful. She has taken care of us more than you have these past few years!” “She is your best friend. What’s wrong with us looking out for her a little?” I let out a bitter laugh. “My best friend?” “She sounds more like your real daughter.” My mom’s face darkened. “Watch your attitude, Chloe!” I looked at them, my chest aching. “Then what about me? Who am I to you guys?” At that, my mom’s eyes flickered with a hint of guilt. But her next words completely froze my heart. “Chloe, we did this for your own good.” “You and Ethan have been married for years. You got pregnant once before, but you couldn’t keep it. The doctor said back then that it would be extremely difficult for you to conceive again.” I froze. That first miscarriage was my deepest wound. In our fifth year of marriage, I had gotten pregnant. I was so happy I couldn’t sleep all night. Ethan had held me close, promising he would take care of us forever. But at three months, the heartbeat stopped. “Ethan needs an heir,” my mom whispered. “A man like him can’t go without a child forever.” “Since Serena gave birth to a boy, and he’s Ethan’s blood, we couldn’t just pretend he doesn’t exist.” I stared at her, my vision blurring. “So in your eyes, my miscarriage was just my own failure, but her giving birth is a triumph?” “That’s not what I meant,” my mom frowned. “Why are you being so dramatic?” My dad put his tablet down, his voice cold and commanding. “Enough. You weren’t supposed to find out about this anyway. Ethan was right—you’ve been emotionally unstable lately.” “Ethan is a great provider. Men make mistakes, but as long as he keeps coming home to you, you should learn to keep one eye shut.” I looked at him, my heart turning to ice. “Coming home? To which home?” Silence filled the room. My mom softened her tone after a moment. “Chloe, you are his legal wife. No one can take that away from you.” “No matter what Serena did, she only gave him a child.” “If you’re smart, you’ll drop this. Don’t make a scene and make everyone look bad.” I stood there, looking at the two people who had raised me, feeling like they were complete strangers. Serena was my best friend, but she was also their adopted darling. All these years, she had the keys to my house, went shopping with my mom, took my dad to his doctor appointments, and spent every holiday with us. I thought it was because she loved me. Now I realized she was slowly pushing me out of my own life, inch by inch, until my own parents didn’t even have a place for me anymore. I bent down, snatched the photo back, and shoved it into my bag. My mom instinctively reached out. “Where are you going?” I looked up at her. “To find Ethan.” My mom’s face changed, and she quickly grabbed my arm. “Don’t do this, Chloe. Serena is still recovering with the baby—” I shook her hand off violently. “She has a baby, so I deserve to lose mine? Is that it?” My mom froze. I didn’t look back as I walked out the door. My dad’s booming voice echoed from behind me. “Chloe Bennett! If you ruin this marriage today, you are the only one who will regret it!” I didn’t stop. When I stepped outside, the afternoon sun was blindingly bright. But I felt absolutely no warmth. The place I thought would always protect me had never belonged to me in the first place.

Serena’s current apartment was located in a luxury high-rise, not far from Ethan’s company. I had been there once before. She told me it belonged to a friend and she was just staying there temporarily. What a joke. It wasn’t a temporary stay. It was a love nest he bought for her. The front door wasn’t fully closed, and I could hear a child’s laughter coming from inside. I stood at the door, peering through the crack. Ethan was sitting on the plush carpet, holding building blocks, helping a little boy build a castle. Serena was sitting on the couch, peeling an apple. The warm sunlight streamed in, bathing them in a picture-perfect glow. They looked like a real family. The little boy suddenly looked up and spotted me standing at the door. He blinked, then grabbed his toys and ran to Ethan on his chubby little legs. “Daddy!” he called out in a sweet, childish voice. Ethan looked up. The moment his eyes met mine, the smile on his face completely froze. I stood there, my feet feeling like they were glued to the floor. *Daddy.* The word felt like a physical blade plunged straight into my chest. Ethan had promised me. After my last miscarriage, when the doctor said my uterus was severely damaged and another pregnancy would be highly risky, I had sobbed in his arms. He had held me, kissing my forehead over and over, saying: “It’s okay, Chloe. We don’t need kids. I only need you.” But now, he was kneeling in front of another woman’s child, listening to him call him Daddy. Every single word he had ever said to me was a lie. When I pushed the door open, everyone in the room stood up. Serena’s face drained of color, and she almost dropped the paring knife. “Chloe… what are you doing here?” I didn’t even look at her. My eyes were locked on Ethan. “Aren’t you going to explain this?” Ethan remained silent for a few seconds. He walked toward me, keeping his voice low. “Let’s talk outside.” I took a step back, avoiding his reach. “We talk here.” The little boy was frightened by the cold atmosphere. He grabbed Ethan’s trousers, looking at me with wide, scared eyes. “Daddy, who is she?” No one answered him. I walked further into the room, staring at the boy’s face. His eyes and brow looked exactly like Ethan’s. My chest tightened painfully. Before I could say anything, the boy suddenly took a step back in fear. He stepped too fast, tripped over a loose toy block, and fell backward onto the carpet. “Waaah—!” The boy immediately burst into tears. Serena gasped and rushed over, pulling him into her arms. “Leo! Are you okay? Where does it hurt?” The boy sobbed hysterically, burying his face in Serena’s neck while pointing a trembling finger at me. “She pushed me… the mean lady pushed me…” I froze. “I didn’t touch him.” My voice was quiet, but it rang clearly in the room. But no one was listening to me. Serena hugged the boy tight, her eyes red as if her heart was breaking. “Chloe, if you have a problem, take it out on me! Leo is just a child!” The boy cried louder, reaching his arms out to Ethan. “Daddy, it hurts…” Ethan’s expression instantly darkened. He took the boy from Serena’s arms, checking his knees. There was a tiny red scrape on his knee. Ethan’s frown deepened. When he looked up at me, his eyes were filled with suppressed anger. “Chloe, control yourself.” I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing. “I didn’t do anything.” Ethan pressed his lips together, his voice deep and cold. “A child wouldn’t lie about something like this.” Those words felt like a bucket of ice water poured over my head. My throat burned. “So you believe him over me?” He didn’t answer. He just held the boy and instinctively stepped closer to Serena, shielding her. That tiny movement hurt more than any words ever could. It was instinct. His instinct was to protect them and guard against me. I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it. I was his wife. “Ethan,” I said, my voice trembling but clear. “The day I had my miscarriage, I called you dozens of times. Where were you?” His face went pale. “Chloe, let’s talk about this when we get home.” “Home?” I whispered. “Which home?” The boy was still whimpering, his small hands clutching Ethan’s shirt. “Daddy, I’m scared…” Ethan patted his back, his voice incredibly gentle. “It’s okay. Daddy’s here.” Serena looked at me with tearful eyes, looking like the ultimate victim. “Chloe, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. Blame me, but please don’t take it out on Leo. He doesn’t know anything.” I looked at her, feeling utterly disgusted. “He doesn’t know anything, but you do.” Her lips trembled. “I didn’t mean to…” Ethan looked at me, his eyes filled with exhaustion and impatience. “Chloe, Leo is already hurt. Stop making a scene.” *Making a scene.* Again, those words. The first time I lost a baby, he said I was being too emotional. Now, when I caught him red-handed with his secret family, he still accused me of making a scene. It seemed that as long as I expressed pain, as long as I demanded answers, I was the one in the wrong. I looked down at my hands. They were empty. I had no baby, and I had no home. I turned around and walked out. Ethan put the boy down and chased after me, grabbing my wrist. “I’ll drive you back.” I slowly but firmly pried his fingers off my arm. “Don’t touch me.” His hand went stiff. I didn’t give him another look. I walked straight out of the apartment. Behind me, the boy’s loud cries and Serena’s soothing voice echoed down the hallway. As the elevator doors slowly shut, tears finally spilled over. The most painful part wasn’t the betrayal itself. It was realizing that even though you still loved him, he wouldn’t hesitate for a single second to choose them over you.

By the time I got back to our apartment, the sky was pitch black. Ethan returned thirty minutes later. He walked in with his suit jacket draped over his arm, his face etched with exhaustion. He looked like a man who had just finished consoling his mistress and child, only to drag himself back to deal with his wife. He stood by the door, staring at me for a few seconds before saying, “Chloe, we need to talk.” He walked over and sat across from me. After a long silence, he finally spoke. “Leo is indeed my son.” Even though I already knew, hearing it from his mouth felt like another heavy blow. My fingertips were icy. “Since when?” Ethan closed his eyes. “After your first miscarriage.” My breathing caught. “You couldn’t sleep back then, and your mental state was terrible. The doctor said you needed complete rest. Meanwhile, my company was going through a crisis, and I was running myself ragged. Serena was helping out by taking care of your parents, and she’d occasionally bring food to our place.” “One night, I got completely wasted. She drove me back. And then…” He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse. “I wanted to fix things before telling you, but then… she got pregnant.” I looked at him and let out a hollow laugh. “So you decided to play the loving husband to me while playing dad to her child?” Ethan frowned, looking pained. “I never wanted things to turn out like this.” “I never had any intention of divorcing you, Chloe.” How pathetic. He claimed to love me while having a child with another woman. He claimed he didn’t want a divorce while turning my entire life into a running joke. I asked quietly, “And what about Serena?” He paused. “She is my responsibility.” “Responsibility?” I looked at him. “You went to her appointments, raised her kid, and you were with her the exact day I lost my baby. You call that responsibility?” A flash of guilt crossed Ethan’s eyes. “Leo had a sudden high fever that day. I couldn’t leave.” “You couldn’t leave,” I repeated, my throat burning. “So you ignored all my calls.” “So my baby died alone because you couldn’t leave. Is that it?” Ethan’s face turned white. “Chloe, I know I messed up. I’m sorry.” “But ever since you lost the baby, you’ve been so unstable. You don’t sleep, you overthink everything, and you’re always on edge.” “I was exhausted too.” By the end of his sentence, his voice carried a hint of pent-up resentment. As if he was the victim here. “I was suffocating between the office and trying to manage both of you. I wanted to take care of you, but I also had to handle things on her end. You didn’t give me any room to breathe.” I looked at him, feeling my love for him completely die. To him, my grief after losing our baby wasn’t pain. It was just an annoyance. I stood up, my voice dead calm. “Ethan, let’s get a divorce.” He snapped his head up. “I told you, I am not divorcing you.” “Why?” I looked at him. “Because you love me? Or because you can’t bear to lose this perfect setup where you get to keep both of us?” He froze, unable to utter a single word. Just then, his phone buzzed. It was my mother. He picked it up, and my mom’s frantic voice echoed through the speaker. “Ethan, get over here quick! Leo won’t stop crying, and Serena is having a panic attack…” Ethan didn’t even look at me. He grabbed his car keys and bolted out the door. The moment the door slammed shut, the living room fell silent again. I stood there for a long time. When your heart truly breaks, you don’t scream or cry. You just become very, very quiet. I walked into the bedroom, opened the closet, and pulled out my suitcase. I packed my clothes, my documents, and my credit cards. Dragging my suitcase to the front door, I took one last look at the place I had lived in for eight years. Everything looked exactly the same. But I knew I couldn’t stay here for another second. I closed the door behind me and stepped into the elevator. My phone buzzed. It was a text from Ethan. *Leo is in bad shape. I might not make it back tonight.* *Chloe, don’t overthink. We’ll talk when I get back.* I stared at the message for a long time, then locked my screen. The night wind was freezing. I dragged my suitcase into the dark, never looking back.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “469226”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster