Author: Momo Chan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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To avoid trouble, I always made up that I had a husband. While shopping with a coworker, I saw a really expensive dress. The salesclerk pushed hard to sell it, so I said: “Never mind, my husband won’t agree. Even if I buy it, I’ll just have to return it.” Unexpectedly, the next day, a package arrived at the company. When I opened it, it was actually that dress! My coworker’s eyes lit up, and she picked up the card inside and read: “To my dear wife: If you like it, you should have it. You deserve all the beautiful things. “Signed — your loving husband!” I was completely dumbfounded. My husband was something I made up. I’d never even been in a relationship, so where did a husband come from? I thought my coworker Lina was just reading nonsense, so I hurriedly grabbed the card. But I saw that these two lines were indeed written on it. “Laura, you usually say your husband won’t let you do this or that. “Isn’t he quite generous? Five thousand dollars, bought without blinking!” A few other coworkers also gathered around. “So your husband is this rich, who would’ve thought, Laura!” I forced a smile, unable to say a word. It had been three months since I joined the company, and my married persona was very stable. Anything I didn’t want to do, I pushed off by saying, “My husband won’t let me.” It worked like a charm. But in reality, I was single and had never even held a guy’s hand! Where did a husband pop up from? I sneaked a peek; the dress was even my exact size. Who sent it? I narcissistically wondered if someone had a crush on me. But I only saw this dress when I was shopping with Lina, so she was the only one who knew about it. I quietly observed Lina’s expression. Completely normal. All day, I was restless. After work, I called the store’s customer service. This wasn’t a small transaction, so the store should have the buyer’s information. But the rep was silent for a few seconds and said, “I’m sorry, ma’am, this order was placed anonymously. The customer opted for privacy protection, so we can’t see the information.” Anonymous? So mysterious. I stared at the dress for a long time, then shoved it into the deepest part of my closet. The next day at work, Lina asked, “Laura, why aren’t you wearing that dress? I wanted to feast my eyes and see what a five-thousand-dollar dress looks like on!” I brushed it off: “Wearing something that expensive to work, isn’t that a waste?” I didn’t dare to wear something from an unknown source. Lina didn’t ask further. I focused on my work, but before long, the receptionist called me. “Laura, you have a delivery!” My whole body shuddered, and I had a bad premonition. Sure enough, when I brought the package over and opened it, inside was a full set of lipsticks. The card inside was signed again: Your loving husband. Lina exclaimed, “Aren’t these the newly released ones? We talked about them last week, and you said you liked several shades!” Yes, and I had even casually said at the time: “I really want to buy the whole set, but my husband definitely won’t let me. He always says I have enough lipstick.” Lina shook her head. “Won’t let you buy? Now he just bought the whole set for you! Laura, what kind of angel husband do you have!” Angel, definitely an angel. So angelic that I don’t even know who he is! What the hell is going on? Could someone really have a crush on me? Then just confess to my face! What’s the point of secretly sending gifts and calling himself my husband! My mind was a mess, and I shoved the lipsticks into my drawer. Lina looked at me strangely: “What’s wrong with you? Why aren’t you happy at all about receiving a gift? Did you fight with your husband?” I smiled awkwardly. Lina took it as my confirmation: “No wonder he’s sending you gifts these past couple of days. Geez, with such a generous husband, why would you fight with him?” I didn’t speak. I silently memorized the tracking number on the delivery box, then found the online store and contacted customer service. The reply I got was: [This order was placed anonymously, so we can’t provide the information.] Can online shopping even be anonymous? I was pondering this question. Suddenly, the receptionist called me again. “Laura, come get your flowers!”

Flowers? What flowers? I blankly stood up and walked over. The delivery guy was holding a huge bouquet. “Are you Ms. Laura? These are the flowers your husband sent you.” I froze on the spot. By the time I reacted, the delivery guy was already walking away. I hurriedly chased after him and called out to stop him. “Excuse me, who placed the order for the flowers?” The delivery guy gave me a weird look: “Your husband.” I shook my head: “I mean, can I see the buyer’s account?” The delivery guy didn’t understand but did it anyway, taking out his phone to show me the chat history for his order. As expected, the other party’s account page was completely blank. “This bouquet is two thousand bucks. Minus the delivery fee, your husband even gave me an extra thousand as a tip.” The delivery guy was smiling so wide his eyes disappeared: “Miss Laura, your husband is really good to you, so generous.” I stiffly handed the phone back to him and forced a stiff smile. Back at the company, my coworkers all gathered around. “Such a big bouquet, it must’ve cost thousands, right?” “That’s nothing. Laura’s husband bought a five-thousand-dollar dress without blinking!” “Hey, there’s a card on the flowers, what does it say?” Only then did I see that card. [Honey, don’t be mad anymore.] Seeing this line clearly, my hand trembled, and I almost threw the flowers. A few coworkers teased: “Laura, with such a great husband, how could you bear to fight with him?” “I’m crying from envy, I want a husband this good too!” “His apology is so sincere, just forgive him.” They were all talking at once, and I couldn’t take in a single word. Instead, I glanced at Lina. The dress, the lipstick—only Lina knew I had said those things. Even the moment I just mentioned in front of her that I fought with my “husband,” a bouquet was immediately delivered, telling me not to be mad. Could she have found out I didn’t actually have a husband and was playing a prank? But these things weren’t cheap. It didn’t seem like she’d spend that much money. I couldn’t figure it out; I didn’t have a clue. My mind was in chaos, so after work, I went to see my grandpa. Grandpa cooked a big table of food for me, and I affectionately linked my arm with his, acting spoiled. Suddenly, I noticed he wasn’t wearing his hearing aid. “Grandpa, where’s your hearing aid?” Grandpa was very hard of hearing, and it took him a while to understand what I said. “That thing? I accidentally dropped it in the river while fishing yesterday! “It’s no big deal, no big deal!” How could it be no big deal? I immediately searched online for hearing aids, researching which one was the best. “Just buy a cheap one, don’t waste money,” Grandpa said beside me. I didn’t go back that night and just stayed over. Early the next morning, a knock on the door woke me up. I walked out of the room bleary-eyed and saw Grandpa opening the door. Outside was a delivery guy. “Hello, please sign for this.” Grandpa glanced at the package and froze. “Where did you buy this? It arrived so fast!” I instantly woke up and hurried over. Looking closely, what the delivery guy was holding was exactly a hearing aid. But I hadn’t even placed the order yet! Instantly, goosebumps broke out all over my body.

“Hello, which one of you will sign for it?” The delivery guy said again. Grandpa was about to sign, but I quickly said: “Um, I think I bought the wrong one. Sorry, I need to reject this.” This was for Grandpa. I didn’t dare to just accept it. What if it was dangerous? While rejecting it, I caught a glimpse of a familiar card attached to the box. [Of course, we have to give Grandpa the best. — Laura’s Husband] My hand trembled in fright. After sending the delivery guy away, I took half a day off from the company and took Grandpa to a physical store to buy a hearing aid. Then I exhorted Grandpa repeatedly. “Grandpa, if you receive any packages recently, you must ask me immediately.” Although Grandpa didn’t quite understand, he listened to me well. When I went to work in the afternoon, I was a complete mess. Who exactly was this person, to even know my grandpa’s address? More importantly, only Grandpa and I knew I was planning to buy a hearing aid! I had only searched for hearing aids online the night before. And it was delivered to the door early in the morning? No matter how I thought about it, it was absurd. Could it be… I looked down at my phone. Could someone have installed something on my phone and was monitoring me? Thinking it over and over, this was the only possibility. So as soon as I got off work, I went to buy a new phone, formatted the old one, and sold it secondhand. Spending two large sums of money in one day made my heart ache. But what gave me peace of mind was that I didn’t receive any more gifts for the next several days. I had just breathed a sigh of relief, but that night, I had a strange dream. In the dream, an unfamiliar man said to me with a wronged look: “Honey, you don’t wear the clothes I gave you, you don’t use the lipstick, and you even refused Grandpa’s hearing aid. “Are you sick of me, or do you just not want gifts? “It’s your birthday, so how about I give you money? You can buy whatever you want yourself.” I woke up from the dream in shock, my heart almost leaping out of my chest. Today was indeed my birthday. But what kind of messy dream was that? The alarm went off right then. I patted my head to forget about it and got up for work. Sitting at my desk, I was munching on bread and rushing a proposal when my phone suddenly vibrated. I clicked it open and instantly widened my eyes. Ones, tens, hundreds, thousands, ten thousands… One million! My card had received a deposit of one million! I thought it was someone’s prank, but when I clicked into the account page, there was indeed an extra one million. Remark: [Honey, happy birthday.] What was this situation? “How about I give you money? You can buy whatever you want yourself.” The words from the dream surfaced in my mind. I sat frozen in my seat, feeling my worldview collapse. “Laura? What’s wrong?” Seeing me not even blinking, Lina nudged me. I quickly put the phone face down: “No, nothing.” Oh my god, what the hell is going on?! Where did this one million come from? Don’t tell me I actually have a husband, but I just don’t remember? “By the way, Laura, I saw it marked on your desk calendar that today is your birthday. How are you planning to celebrate?” Lina asked casually beside me. I quietly picked up my phone and took another look at the account balance. I had never used anything that “husband” sent. Were these things real? For example, could this one million be used? I took a deep breath. “Everyone, today is my birthday. I’m treating you all to dinner.” Hearing my words, my coworkers started to cheer. Someone even asked: “Laura, aren’t you spending your birthday with your husband?” I made up an excuse: “He’s on a business trip recently.” Then I sent a restaurant address in the SnapChat group. Lina said in shock: “Laura, you’re treating us to something this expensive?!” I smiled and didn’t speak. But I was still a bit worried. What if this money couldn’t be spent?

As it turned out, my worries were unnecessary. Watching me pay a bill of over fifteen thousand without blinking, my coworkers were dumbfounded. “Laura, what exactly does your husband do? He’s so rich!” “You really hid it well, I really couldn’t tell before.” “Alright, alright, let Laura make a wish first!” Lina ordered a cake and put a birthday hat on me. The candles were lit, and I closed my eyes. Thinking of the bizarre experiences lately, I suddenly had an absurd thought. Could it be that I have superpowers and whatever I want, I get? Then I might as well try something big. Thinking this, I chanted silently in my heart. I want lots and lots of money! Then I opened my eyes and blew out the candles. When I went home at night, after washing up and lying in bed, I saw an unread message. I sat up with a whoosh, clenched my fists, and clicked on that message. I saw that another sum of money had been credited to my card, and the string of numbers was even longer than the one from the morning. My heart pounding, I counted the zeros. It was actually one hundred million! Remark: [I will give you lots and lots of money.] It was too incredible… I got out of bed and walked in circles several times, feeling like I was dreaming. Did I really have the superpower to make wishes come true? But this wasn’t scientific. After calming down, I still felt something was wrong. With such a huge income, would I be targeted by the police? Getting rich overnight, would I be targeted by bad guys? Even though the feeling of having money was great. But I really didn’t dare to spend this money. Thinking it over, I decided to go to the police tomorrow. If the police could trace the source of the money, that would be for the best. If they couldn’t, at least there would be a record. Right, just like that! I took a few deep breaths and comforted myself. Lying back on the bed, I prepared to put down my phone and sleep. Suddenly, my hand slipped, and I opened the photo album. Then, I violently sat up once again. Because in my photo album, a few photos I had never seen had appeared out of nowhere. They were even photos of me and an unfamiliar man together! And this man looked exactly like the face in my dream! I was terrified and frantically turned on the light. It was practically a ghost! I had no impression of these photos at all, and I was sure I didn’t know this man. Unless the photos were AI. But I had just changed to a new phone. Was the new phone being monitored too? No matter what, I absolutely had to go report this to the police. I left the light on all night and didn’t dare to sleep. As soon as it was dawn, I took a cab to the police station. “Hello, has something happened to you?” It was too early, plus my complexion was abnormal. The duty officer became alert and poured me a glass of water. I swallowed. “Officer, photos of a strange man suddenly appeared on my phone, and… I also received a huge sum of money from an unknown source.” The officer frowned and asked, “Money from an unknown source? How much?” “One hundred million… no, one million, plus one hundred million.” “One hundred million?!” The officer jumped in shock and yelled. “Officer Sam, what are you getting so startled about? What one hundred million?” Another police officer asked from a distance. And I froze for a moment. Officer Sam? …I slowly looked up and saw his face. Suddenly, my mind exploded. I knew! I knew what was going on! While feeling excited, I had a severe headache. Then my vision became more and more blurry until I lost consciousness…

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I sponsored my best friend, Chloe Taylor, who came from a really tough background, through college. I even helped her become a teacher at a private school. She’d always been incredibly grateful, saying I was the most important person in her life. Until one day, when I was helping Chloe fix her laptop, I saw the photos inside. Chloe and my fiancé, Ethan Carter, were sitting side-by-side on a ski lift. She was snuggled up on his shoulder during a late-night movie. They were kissing in a sunset on a tropical island. I’d been so swamped with hospital work, constantly postponing our dates. Turns out, she’d gone on all of them for me. There were even their SnapChat messages from today. Ethan had sent: “She’s sleeping at the hospital tonight, so bring a few extra boxes of condoms when you come over, baby.” My hand trembled as I closed the laptop. I grabbed my car keys and sped all the way to our shared apartment, the place we called our wedding home. The moment I pushed open the door, the heavy scent of smoke and something else, something cloying and intimate, hung in the air. The two on the bed didn’t even have time to pull apart. Chloe saw me first. She shrieked, her face going white as a sheet. “Sophie…” Ethan turned, glanced at me, and instinctively shielded her behind him. The clothes and wrappers scattered all over the floor made me freeze in disbelief, forgetting to even breathe. I just stood there, watching Ethan pick up the clothes from the floor, helping Chloe dress, piece by piece. His movements were practiced and gentle. He walked her to the door, whispering reassurance. “Someone’s waiting downstairs for you. I’ll handle everything.” I hadn’t done anything yet, but he already feared I’d lash out like a madwoman. The spot in my chest felt hollow, like everything had been ripped out. Only he and I remained in the room, facing each other. I stared at the face I’d known since childhood. We were childhood sweethearts, knew each other for over twenty years. He always said he’d be my shadow, always follow me. But now, that face looked utterly foreign. Ethan pulled out a pack of cigarettes, lit one, took a drag, then looked at me. “Don’t you have anything to say?” He was the one who cheated, so why was I the one standing here, helpless and questioned? “Ethan, how could you two do this to me?” He flicked the ash from his cigarette, his tone flat. “I admit, I messed up. But Sophie, genuinely, what have you given me these past few years?” “You always have something to do, a surgery scheduled. I ask you out to dinner, you’re on rounds. I ask you to a movie, you’re on call. I even had to schedule a fight with you three days in advance.” He said these words with a hint of grievance. As if I were the one in the wrong. As if I were the one who cheated. “Chloe’s different.” His voice softened when he mentioned Chloe. “She cares about my feelings. She remembers what I say. She’ll do the things I want to do with me.” “All those dates you missed, she went on them with me.” “In her heart, I’m the priority.” Every word was a knife, twisting in my heart, leaving me numb with pain. “Ethan! You’ve known me my whole life, I’ve always been this way. I haven’t changed one bit!” He frowned, as if I were being unreasonable. “Yeah, you haven’t changed. But I’m tired of waiting.” I heard my own voice trembling. “So you slept with my best friend?” He was silent for two seconds. “I told you, it’s not her fault.” I took a deep breath and walked over. My palm connected hard with Ethan’s face. “You’re truly heartless, Ethan. How could you do this to me?” He didn’t dodge. The cigarette dropped from his fingers, sparks landing on the duvet. He looked up, a flicker of emotion finally in his eyes. “Enough? If not, do it again.” “Once you’ve vented, don’t go looking for trouble with Chloe.” I opened my mouth to say something, but my phone suddenly rang.

It was the hospital. “Dr. Miller, surgery starts in half an hour.” Ethan let out a soft laugh. It was quiet, but it pierced my ears like a needle. “Go on, Dr. Miller. Your fiancé is sleeping with your best friend, and you still have to go perform surgery.” “You really are the most tolerant woman I’ve ever met.” I gripped my phone, my knuckles white. Fearing tears, I turned and walked away. The surgical lights were blinding. I gritted my teeth, forcing back the tears, my hand steady with the scalpel. No one could tell that just half an hour ago, I’d seen my fiancé and my best friend intimately in my own bed. When the surgery ended, my wrist ached so much I could barely lift it. “Dr. Miller, congratulations are in order!” The anesthesiologist, charting notes, smiled. “I heard you’re taking six months off for your wedding? Everyone in the department is saying that Dr. Carter, who sends you a bouquet every day, is finally marrying our ‘Ice Queen’ Dr. Miller!” My grip on the paper cup tightened instantly. For these six months of leave, I’d used all my accumulated vacation days and scheduled every possible surgery in advance. I’d get so exhausted I’d faint from low blood sugar in the changing room, then pick myself up, chug a glucose drink, and go right back to it. Ethan came to pick me up that day, and when he saw my pale lips, he actually frowned. “Can’t you be a little kinder to yourself?” I smiled. “Are you worried about me, Dr. Carter?” He pulled me into his arms. “Sophie, I just want to marry you, take you home, and put you on a pedestal.” Now, looking back, his arms had already embraced someone else. All my efforts these past months were nothing but a joke. “Mhm.” I managed only one word, afraid that another would trigger my collapse. I walked into the changing room. The moment the door locked, I slid down the door panel to the floor. My shoulders shook violently, tears streaming endlessly through my fingers. I could never shake Ethan off, not since we were kids. He was like my shadow, always tagging along wherever I went. When I was nine, I snapped impatiently, “Can you stop following me?” He looked down and said, “I want to be your shadow. Wherever you go, I go.” At eighteen, he handed me a note: “I don’t want to be a shadow anymore. I want to stand beside you.” We started dating. From eighteen to twenty-eight, a full ten years, he kept every promise. He always picked me up when I worked late, he took time off to care for me when I was sick, he remembered every word I said. Everyone said this was love at its best. I believed them. I pulled out my phone and saw a message from Chloe, sent two hours ago. [Sophie, I know I’ve wronged you, but I truly love him. I’ll do anything you want. Just let us be, okay?] I stared at the words and suddenly found it hilarious. Chloe probably didn’t even remember how she’d gotten out of that miserable, dead-end town she came from. That year, her grandma was critically ill, no money for hospital bills. Chloe knelt in the hospital corridor, sobbing uncontrollably, tears and snot streaming down her face. I was the one who paid for her surgery, arranged everything. I was the one who paid her tuition, encouraged her to get her teaching license. She said I was her biggest benefactor, saying: “Sophie Miller, you’re the one person I’ll never betray in my life.” But now? She was sleeping with my fiancé, and asking me to bless their “love.” But who would bless my ten years of youth? The phone screen blurred. I wiped my tears, ready to stand up. Just then, I heard nurses talking outside the door. “Did you hear? We got a patient in the ER, pregnant, had intense sex, and hemorrhaged.” “The baby’s okay. But her husband looks really powerful. When he came in, he said if we couldn’t save the baby, he’d shut down the hospital.” “No wonder rich people are so arrogant…” “That’s not the point. The point is, the guy looks exactly like Dr. Miller’s fiancé!” “Oh my god! She’s pregnant! Is Dr. Miller, like, the other woman?”

The footsteps faded away. I leaned against the door, my body ice cold. My nails dug deep into my palms, drawing blood. I pushed the door open abruptly and rushed out. Through the glass window of the patient’s room, I saw them. Ethan’s voice was gentle, like he was comforting a child: “Drink slowly, it’s hot.” I pushed open the door. Chloe saw me first. “So-Sophie…” Ethan turned, and the moment he saw me, he instinctively shifted, shielding Chloe behind him. He’d made the same move just a few hours ago in our apartment. His voice turned cold. “I told you not to bother her.” I stared at Chloe’s flat stomach. “Pregnant?” Chloe’s tears fell, and she turned her face away, not daring to look at me. “Yes,” Ethan answered for her. “It’s mine. Three months.” Three months… Three months ago, Ethan went on a business trip, and there was an unexpected earthquake. Messages, calls, all went unanswered. I took leave overnight and drove there. Halfway, an aftershock hit. I was thrown forward, my stomach hitting the steering wheel. The child I hadn’t even had a chance to tell anyone about, was gone in that chaos. When Ethan arrived, he knelt by my bed, holding me, his voice trembling. “I’m so sorry, Sophie… We’ll have another child, I promise we will…” It was the first time I’d seen him cry. I stroked his hair and said, “As long as you’re safe, we’ll have more.” Turns out, he wasn’t on a business trip at all. He was with Chloe. They conceived a child at that time. And I, on my way to find him, lost our child. “Sophie…” Chloe’s voice pulled me back to reality. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked utterly pathetic. “The baby can’t grow up without a dad… Please, let us be…” SMACK. My palm connected hard with her face. The patient room fell silent for a moment, then Chloe covered her face and began to cry. Ethan shot up, grabbing my wrist. “Sophie Miller! That’s enough! Take it out on me!” His eyes were filled with rage. In twenty years, I could count the times he’d gotten angry with me on one hand. Each time it was because I worked too hard, neglecting my own body. But now, it was for the woman he cheated with. “Take it out on you? Ethan, do you even deserve it?” I yanked my hand free and stepped back. Something slipped out of my pocket and clattered to the floor. It was a tactical knife. Ethan and I both froze. Three years ago, on the day he proposed, he slid the ring onto my finger, then put a knife in my hand. “Sophie Miller, you’re the only one for me, forever. If I ever betray you, use this knife and stab me through the heart.” I looked down at the knife, my head buzzing. Then I bent down and picked it up. In that moment, a massive wave of resentment and fury surged from my chest, making my eyes burn. I really wanted to plunge it in. I wanted to press the tip against his heart and ask him why, and how dare he. I wanted him to hurt, to taste the feeling of being stabbed in the back by the one he loved most. Chloe screamed, spreading her arms to shield Ethan. “Sophie! It’s my fault, not his!” I gripped the knife and took a step toward them. Just one step. Ethan’s expression changed. He yanked Chloe behind him, then raised his hand and pushed me. I went flying across the room. My head hit the tiled floor with a sickening thud, and my ears were ringing. When my vision returned, I saw him holding Chloe tightly in his arms. His voice was soft, so gentle. “Did I hit your stomach?” Chloe shook her head, crying. He never once looked at me. The hallway was filled with people. “Oh my god, is that Dr. Miller? She looks so miserable…” “Dr. Miller usually seems so calm, why is she acting like a maniac?” I lay on the floor, my head throbbing. When I was eight, my mother left me with my alcoholic and abusive father. I knelt on the floor, clutching her hand, demanding to know why, crying until I fainted. Since then, I had never broken down for anyone.

I didn’t cry when a surgery failed, nor when I lost my child. It was Ethan who slowly, painstakingly, chipped away at that protective shell. He spent twenty years making me believe I could also be cherished. But it was also him who turned me back into a maniac. I pushed myself up, opened the door, and walked out. It’s okay. I only have myself, and that’s enough. Back at my desk, the whispers around me were constant, but I didn’t listen. On my desk lay the approved wedding leave form and an application for an overseas assignment. Two months ago, my Head of Department had discussed it with me, saying it was a great opportunity, and I’d be promoted to Deputy Head upon my return. When I told Ethan the news, he smiled. “Sophie Miller, I support all your decisions.” He pulled me into his arms, resting his chin on my head. “No matter how far you go, I’ll always wait for you, always follow you.” I couldn’t bear to leave Ethan, couldn’t bear to let down his years of waiting. So, I submitted the wedding leave form. My Head of Department, though reluctant, approved it. “You two have been together for ten years. Choosing marriage over an overseas assignment is a good decision. I hope he doesn’t let you down.” Now, his words had become a cruel prophecy. I tore up the approved form and threw it into the trash can. Slowly, deliberately, I filled out the deployment application form. The moment I finished, I suddenly felt like I could finally breathe. Chloe’s laptop was still there. I clicked on her SnapChat, taking screenshots of everything. Her feed was full of posts: Photos of her and Ethan in the snow, hands intertwined at the movie theater, lavish dinners at couple’s restaurants… Every single post was hidden from me. Mutual friends in the comments section were egging them on. “OMG, you two are so cute! Just get married already!” “Ethan’s such a legend, even when his fiancée’s cold to him, he’s got a girlfriend to comfort him!” “Wonder what Sophie’s reaction will be. She’s always so serious, I’d love to see her cry!” So everyone knew. Only I was just a fool, completely in the dark. Made a fool of, a complete joke to everyone. It was past midnight when I returned to the apartment Ethan and I shared. I pulled out a suitcase and started packing. Once I finished, I grabbed my phone and called a real estate agent, intending to sell our wedding home. “Okay, ma’am, is the property title in your name?” “Yes.” When we moved in, Ethan said he’d only put my name on the title, so I’d always feel secure. I pulled the property title from the drawer and opened it. My hand froze. The owner’s name, at some point, had been changed to Chloe Taylor. Even our wedding home, he’d given to her. “Ms. Miller, are you in a rush to sell?” It took me a long time to respond, my voice hoarse, like sandpaper. “Sorry, I’m not selling anymore.” I hung up, stuffed the last few items of clothing into my suitcase. Zipped it up, stood, and looked around. I’d lived in this apartment for three years. I picked out the sofa, chose the curtains, and Ethan had custom-ordered the painting on the wall from overseas. He said, “When we get married, this wall will be covered with our photos.” The photo of us was still hanging there. He had his arm around me, his eyes crinkled in a smile. It was taken three years ago, on the first day we moved in. He’d been so excited, spinning me around: “Sophie Miller, from today on, we have a home!” I’d lived here for three years. In the end, not a single brick in this place was truly mine. I reached up and took down the photo frame. Opened it, pulled out the photo. On the back was a line of his handwriting: “No matter how long it takes, I’ll wait for you. – Ethan Carter” I threw the photo into the trash can. Dragging my suitcase, I closed the door. A few days later. My overseas assignment was approved: London. Ethan sent a SnapChat message: [Sophie Miller, Chloe’s pregnant, I have to take responsibility. I’m giving the marriage certificate to Chloe, but the wedding can still go on as planned. I won’t go back on my word; I’ll still give you the most magnificent wedding.] I stared at that message for a long time. He wanted me to be his mistress, and Chloe his wife? How laughable. I didn’t reply. I opened my laptop and exported all those photos. One by one, I packaged and printed them. Recipient addresses: The school where Chloe taught, the Carter family residence, Carter Industries. Having done everything, I picked up my suitcase and headed straight for the airport. Before boarding, my phone suddenly vibrated. Messages flooded in like a broken dam.

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To finally buy that panoramic ocean-view condo, I activated a “Get Paid If Rejected” system. My target: Ethan, the brilliant but unapproachable law student, the ultimate campus heartthrob. Every time he rejected me, the system deposited ten thousand dollars into my account. For two whole years, come rain or shine, I confessed my feelings to him 99 times. For the 100th time, I stood under the guys’ dorm building with a megaphone, ready to claim my final ten thousand dollars. “Ethan, I like you! Be my boyfriend!” I’d even opened up SnapChat to message the real estate agent for the beachfront condo. Then, the door to the second-floor balcony opened. Ethan stood there in loose loungewear, looking down at me. “Okay.” His voice wasn’t loud, but it echoed across the entire dorm area. “Grab your ID. We’re going to City Hall to make it official right now.” My hand shook, and the megaphone clattered onto my foot. Wait, what?! Dude, where did my ocean-view condo go?! The early autumn breeze whistled through the sycamores under the dorm building, making the megaphone in my hand feel chilly. I cleared my throat and pressed the switch. “Ethan! I like you! Be my boyfriend!” A massive echo reverberated between the buildings. A crowd of guys had gathered around, some even holding cups of instant soup, watching the show. “Lily’s here again. Is this the 100th time?” “She actually dares to go for the ice prince. She’s really determined to hit that brick wall.” “If Ethan says yes, I’ll eat this instant soup—cup, soup, and all—right here, right now.” I lowered my head, feigning shyness and nervousness. But inside, fireworks were exploding. Reject me. Just tell me to get lost, quickly. Ethan, please, be merciless and just turn me down! I chanted in my head. If he just said “not interested” one more time, the system would transfer my final ten thousand dollars. A whole million dollars! I’d even opened up SnapChat to message the real estate agent for the panoramic ocean-view condo. The down payment was happening today! For two years, come rain or shine, I’d confessed to him in every creative way imaginable. He was handsome, brilliant, top of his class in law school, and famously unapproachable to women. He was basically my personal ATM, tailor-made by fate. For the first 99 times, he was a true professional. The first time, he said, “Excuse me, coming through.” The tenth time, he said, “I’m busy.” The fiftieth time, he said, “Lily, are you that bored?” The ninety-ninth time, he frowned at me and said, “Stop coming here.” I’d heard it as, “Stop coming here to collect money.” No way! I was still short ten thousand! So today, I brought the megaphone. The second-floor balcony door suddenly opened. Ethan, in loose loungewear, his fair skin almost glowed under the streetlights, his jawline sharp enough to cut glass. He leaned on the railing with one hand, looking down at me. The entire scene went silent. I took a deep breath, ready for the sweet sound of “get lost.” But then, he suddenly chuckled. “Okay.” I froze. The guys around me froze too. He straightened up, his voice not loud, but it clearly reached my ears. “Grab your ID. We’re going to City Hall to make it official.” *Clatter.* The megaphone slipped from my hand and hit my foot. The system in my head let out a piercing scream. [Warning! Target has not rejected!] [100th confession mission failed, ten thousand dollar reward canceled!] My vision went black. I almost passed out right there.

The whole place erupted. The guy with the instant soup cup even dropped his fork in shock. My best friend, Chloe, was shaking my shoulder wildly from the edge of the crowd. “Lily! You did it! You brought the ice prince down from his pedestal!” I didn’t feel like I “did it” at all. I just felt a suffocating pain in my chest. My ocean-view condo, my floor-to-ceiling windows, my huge balcony—all gone. I stiffly raised my head, looking at Ethan on the balcony. “Ethan, are you studying for the Bar exam too hard lately? Are you out of your mind?” He had his hands in his pockets, his tone flat. “I’m perfectly clear-headed.” “But you used to say we had no chance!” “That was before.” He paused. “Now I’ve changed my mind.” I was almost in tears. “Ethan, seriously, don’t be impulsive. A forced relationship never works out!” He looked at me, a flicker of an imperceptible smile in his eyes. “Sweet or not, we’ll know once we try.” With that, he turned and went back into the dorm. Less than three minutes later, he came out of the stairwell. He’d changed into a crisp white shirt and dark pants, standing as tall and poised as a runway model. He walked up to me, blocking the streetlights above. “Let’s go.” I took a step back. “Go where?” “Didn’t you ask me to be your boyfriend?” He naturally reached out, taking my wrist. “Come with your boyfriend to study.” His palm was warm, so hot it made me shiver. The system dinged again. [Host has entered a romantic relationship.] [New mission activated: Hold hands with target for five minutes.] [Reward: Five dollars.] I stared fixedly at the “five dollars” in my mind. Five dollars?! I used to get ten thousand for getting yelled at, and now holding hands only gets me five?! Was the system getting a cut from some middleman?! I struggled fiercely. “Ethan, I suddenly remembered I have a huge assignment for my literature class that I haven’t written yet! I have to go!” He didn’t let go; instead, he gripped my hand tighter. “Literature class assignment? Your English Lit department has advanced math this semester?” I choked. He looked down at me, his gaze incredibly penetrating. “Lily, you chased me for two years. Now that you’ve got me, you want to run?” “I didn’t…” “Then just follow along.” He led me, past a sea of guys staring like they’d seen a ghost, out of the dorm area.

All the way, I tried to pull my hand free. But Ethan’s grip was surprisingly strong. He even threaded his fingers through mine, turning it into an intertwined hold. The system slowly announced: [Hand-holding duration met. Five dollars deposited.] I looked at the five-dollar transfer notification on SnapChat, my heart aching like crazy. Taking that money felt like an insult to my intelligence. At the library, Ethan found a window seat. He pushed a thick textbook on contract law in front of me. “Read.” I had no mind to read. My head was filled with how to make him break up with me first. If he broke up with me, maybe the system would still count it as a failed confession and give me that ten thousand dollars. I started acting out. I deliberately dropped my pen on the floor. *Clink.* He bent down, picked it up, and handed it to me. I dropped it again. *Clink.* He picked it up again. The third time, just as I was about to let go, he pressed his hand over mine. “Lily.” “Huh?” “Do you have shaky hands?” I let out a dry laugh. “My hands are just clumsy.” He sighed, pulling his chair closer to mine. We were practically touching. The scent of cedar from him wafted into my nose. “If your hands are clumsy, then don’t write.” He opened the book and pointed to a line of text. “Read this for me.” I looked down. “When an unmarried man adopts a female, the adopter and the adopted must have an age difference of at least forty years.” My eyes widened. “Why are you making me read this?” He rested his chin on one hand, turning his head to look at me. “Just a little legal education.” “And a reminder that no such age difference exists between us, so we can only be legally married.” My face flushed instantly. The system popped up. [Engaged in academic discussion with target. Reward: Ten dollars.] I closed my eyes in anguish. Ten dollars. I couldn’t even buy a decent fancy latte with that. This life was unlivable.

By lunchtime, I decided to use my trump card. Ethan was a germaphobe and super picky, preferring incredibly bland food. He wouldn’t eat anything with strong aromatics like onions, ginger, or garlic, let alone anything with an intense flavor. I dragged him to the notoriously pungent pasta place on the other side of campus. Not only did I order spaghetti, but I also added double stinky cheese and double cilantro. When the bowl arrived, the smell alone could knock a person out. I pushed the bowl towards him. “Honey, eat up. This place is amazing.” I deliberately emphasized “honey,” intending to disgust him. Ethan looked at the bright red, green, and bizarrely smelling noodles, and sure enough, his brow furrowed. My heart surged with delight. Get mad! Just lose it! Say you can’t stand me anymore and want to break up! But instead, he just picked up his fork, slowly selected a noodle, and put it in his mouth. I was stunned. “Don’t you think it smells?” He swallowed, his expression unchanged. “It’s alright.” “But you used to not even eat onions!” He looked up at me. “No one forced me to eat them before.” He picked up a piece of stinky cheese and placed it in my bowl. “You ordered it, eat more.” I looked at that piece of stinky cheese, on the verge of tears. The system dinged. [Had lunch with target. Reward: Twenty dollars.] I listlessly poked at my noodles. Twenty dollars. At this rate, I’d have to be in a relationship for the rest of my life to save up for the condo down payment. After eating, Ethan wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I have moot court practice this afternoon. Are you coming to watch?” I immediately shook my head. “No, I’m going back to the dorm to sleep.” He stood up, walked over to me, and suddenly reached out to pinch my cheek. “Okay, let me know when you wake up, and I’ll bring you dinner.” His actions were so natural that people at several nearby tables turned to look. I covered my face, stammering. “Y-you, don’t touch me like that.” He chuckled. “Boyfriend’s privilege. Might as well use it.” Back in the dorm, Chloe had already scrolled through ninety-nine pages of the university’s gossip forum. “Lily! You’re trending! You’re absolutely viral!” She shoved her phone in my face. The post title was bold and bright: [BREAKING! 100 Confessions Later, They’re Official! Law School Ice Prince Falls for English Lit’s Relentless Suitor!] The comments below were all shocked. [OMG, did this girl cast a spell on him?] [Has Ethan been possessed? He actually held Lily’s hand to the library this morning!] [Not just held hands, they even ate spaghetti in the back alley for lunch! Ethan eating spaghetti! The world has gone mad!] I lay on my bed, my eyes unfocused. “Chloe, I think I got a raw deal.”

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I had kindly driven my neighbor’s son to and from school for a whole year. After his final grades came out, she showed up with her entire family, blocking my garage. She slapped a claim for fifteen thousand dollars into my hand, pointed a finger at my nose, and yelled, “My son was a genius! But your crappy car jolted his brain so bad, it’s ruined! You’re not leaving this garage until you pay up!” I stared at the familiar official seal on the claim form and let out a cold laugh. She had no idea that the owner of that assessment center was my uncle. Not only that, I also knew the real reason her son’s grades plummeted: she’d taken five thousand dollars meant for his tutoring and spent it all on tipping a sexy male streamer. Trying to extort me? I’m about to make you lose everything you have, and leave you with nothing. The underground garage was dimly lit, reeking of a musty smell that never saw sunlight. I’d just parked my car in my designated spot, and hadn’t even unbuckled my seatbelt when three figures suddenly darted out from behind a supporting pillar nearby. They surrounded my car, blocking the front and cutting off all my exits. Leading the charge was my dear neighbor, Brenda Hayes. She was wearing a full face of makeup today, her lipstick a dark, bold shade, her feet clad in four-inch stilettos, and in her hand, she clutched a stack of stark white papers. Trailing behind her were her husband, David Hayes, who usually greeted everyone with a smile but now had a grim expression, and her mother-in-law, Martha Hayes, notorious in the neighborhood for being an absolute pain. “Sophia Miller! Get out of that car right now!” Brenda’s shrill voice exploded in the empty garage, echoing piercingly and making my eardrums ache. I frowned, not getting out immediately. Instead, I lowered my window halfway and stared at her coldly. “Brenda, what the hell is wrong with you, yelling like this so late at night?” “What’s wrong with *me*?” Brenda let out an exaggerated, cold laugh, storming closer to my car window. She raised her hand and slapped the stack of papers against my windshield with a loud smack. “Open your eyes and look at what you’ve done! My perfectly fine son, you utterly ruined him!” Martha, seeing this, immediately scurried closer. Her bony fingers, dry like tree branches, almost poked through the window gap and into my nose. “You evil, cold-hearted woman! We trusted you so much, letting you drive our Leo every day! What were your intentions? Do you hate that you can’t have kids, so you’re jealous of our Leo’s intelligence and deliberately messed with him on the road?” I took a deep breath, suppressing the anger surging in my chest, pushed open the car door, and stepped out. On the windshield, the white A4 paper was almost blinding. The bold, enlarged title at the top screamed, as if desperate for attention: *”Compensation Details for Brain Nerve Damage and Intellectual Developmental Delay Caused by Prolonged Vehicle Jolting.”* I looked at that line of text and laughed, enraged. Reaching out, I yanked the paper off and scanned it under the garage’s dim light. The categories listed were even more detailed than a hospital bill. One-time compensation for intellectual damage: $7,000. Parental emotional distress: $3,000. Follow-up brain rehabilitation and nutrition costs: $2,000. Lost future prospects from failing to get into an elite prep school: $3,000. The last line was heavily circled in red: Total: Fifteen Thousand Dollars. I looked up at Brenda’s face, slightly twisted from extreme agitation. “Fifteen thousand? Brenda, are you trying to extort me, or are you just dreaming in broad daylight?” Brenda crossed her arms, chin held high, looking smug, as if she had me cornered. “Extortion? Sophia, don’t you dare make baseless accusations! It’s all in black and white. This is an official assessment from the most authoritative professional institution in the state! Our Leo used to get perfect scores on every test; he was an absolute prodigy! But ever since he started riding in your clunky car, getting jolted around every day… now his final exam results are out, and he got a D in math! A D! Can you believe it?! The doctor even said it’s because of long-term violent jolting, causing severe attention deficit and irreversible brain nerve damage! If you don’t pay up, you’re not taking another step out of this garage today!”

In the garage, quite a few neighbors who had just gotten home from work had stopped. Some rolled down their car windows, peeking out to watch the drama. Others simply turned off their engines and stood a short distance away, pointing and whispering. Brenda, seeing the crowd grow, seemed to gain instant confidence. Her voice soared even higher, turning into a full-blown, theatrical performance. “Everyone, judge for yourselves! I was kind enough to let her take my child along the way, and she, in turn, drove like a maniac, scrambling my son’s brain! Now his future is ruined, and she won’t even say sorry, trying to avoid paying!” A few hushed whispers immediately rose from the crowd. “Wow, can a car ride really mess up someone’s brain? Never heard of that.” “Who knows, kids these days are so delicate. But driving someone else’s kid, it really does seem like no good deed goes unpunished. You just can’t be a good Samaritan anymore.” “Fifteen thousand dollars, Sophia’s really unlucky to end up with a neighbor like this.” David chimed in at the right moment, his face stern, feigning reasonableness and concern for the bigger picture. “Sophia, we’re all neighbors in the building, we see each other every day. We don’t want to make things too ugly, and we definitely don’t want to go to court. But this situation, it’s clearly all your fault. Just pay the fifteen thousand dollars without a fuss, and we’ll pretend nothing happened. We can still say hello when we see each other.” Friends? Say hello? I looked at this utterly hypocritical trio, a wave of nausea churning in my stomach. This entire year, how much had I helped their family? Rain or shine, if Brenda said, “I’m getting my hair done, I’ll be late, can you wait a bit longer?” I’d have to wait for Leo in the cold outside the school for half an hour. Leo would eat messy cookies and drink sticky sodas in my car, leaving crumbs and spills everywhere, and I never said a harsh word. I just quietly paid to get the car detailed myself. Now, because her son isn’t studying, his grades dropped, and they blame it on my car being too bumpy, damaging his brain? I lowered my gaze, looking at the so-called “Compensation Details” again. My eyes slowly moved down, finally landing on the blue stamp in the bottom right corner. Blue Sky Children’s Development Assessment Center. I paused. Then, an irrepressible cold smirk curved my lips. Blue Sky Assessment Center? What a coincidence. The big boss behind this institution was none other than my uncle, Richard Miller.

I had just been to his office last month, enjoying some excellent coffee. At the time, he was complaining to me that too many people were counterfeiting their institution’s official seal to scam people, severely damaging their reputation. Their legal department was about to team up with the police for a large-scale arrest. Brenda, seeing me smile at the stamp, thought I was stunned into silence. She advanced triumphantly. “What? What are you laughing at? Nothing to say, huh? Sophia, I advise you to pay up quickly. Otherwise, I’ll post this in the residents’ SnapChat group, and the school parents’ group! I’ll let everyone know what a cold-blooded, heartless person you are!” I slowly folded the paper and calmly slipped it into my designer bag. “Alright.” Brenda froze, seemingly unprepared for my reaction. “What did you say?” I looked at her, every word clear and forceful. “I said, alright. Post it wherever you want, go viral if you wish. But Brenda, I’m making myself clear right here and right now. I won’t give you a single cent, not a single dime of that fifteen thousand. Not only will I not pay, but I’ll make you pay a price you can’t afford for this worthless piece of paper.” With that, I turned, got back into my car, and slammed the door shut with a bang. I started the engine, shifted into gear, and floored the accelerator. The three-hundred-horsepower engine instantly let out a beastly roar, and the tires screeched against the epoxy floor of the underground garage. David and Martha shrieked, their faces pale, scrambling to hide behind a nearby pillar. Brenda, retreating too quickly in her high heels, twisted her ankle and fell hard on the ground, her perfectly made-up face instantly contorted in pain. I rolled down my window, coldly tossing out a warning: “If you’re not afraid to die, keep blocking my car with your body.” Then, I swerved the steering wheel, my car brushing past their clothes as I drove away. In my rearview mirror, Brenda frantically picked herself up from the ground, pointing and cursing at my taillights like a complete banshee. I activated my car’s Bluetooth and called Mr. Jenkins, the property manager. “Mr. Jenkins, underground garage, Zone B, spot 102. Someone was causing trouble and blocking my vehicle. Please immediately retrieve the last ten minutes of surveillance footage and preserve it exactly as is. If a single second is missing, I’ll hold you accountable.” Hanging up, I took a deep breath of the cool air in the car. The war had just begun.

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“You come here every single day; if I’m not annoyed, I’m certainly annoyed for myself! Haven’t you ever seen a decent spa before? You’re practically living here, trying to squeeze every last cent out of that card! Look at you, you pathetic cheapskate!” Those were Kyle’s exact words, the head technician at the ‘Dreamland Premier Wellness & Beauty Spa’, as he pointed his finger right in my face. I’d paid twenty thousand dollars for an unlimited black card. I’d only used it for less than half a month when he publicly humiliated me. That’s when I lost it. “Kyle, what do you mean by that?” I pulled out my phone to message him on SnapChat, but the message just sat there, stuck on “unsent”! He’d actually blocked me! Pure rage engulfed me. I was trembling, so I immediately stormed back to the spa to demand a refund from the owner. But Sharon, the owner, slowly pulled out a “special cancellation clause” I’d never seen before. “Sophia, according to our store policy, if a client voluntarily cancels their membership, the refund must be calculated based on the highest-tier single session prices for our facial anti-aging and full-body essential oil SPA treatments.” “You’ve visited us 15 times this past half-month. At fifteen hundred dollars per session, that’s twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Plus, there’s a two thousand dollar fee for imported oils, two thousand for the premium room service, and three thousand for equipment wear and tear.” “All told, you don’t get a refund; you actually owe us three thousand dollars more.” I almost laughed out loud from sheer anger. Oh, this is rich. This is really rich. Leaving the spa, I immediately called Mr. Davis, the property manager. “Hello, Mr. Davis? That ‘Dreamland Spa’ on the third floor of the mall? I’m not renewing their lease next month!”

The moment I realized I’d been blocked, a switch flipped in my brain. I couldn’t stand it for another second. I stomped in my heels straight to the spa on the third floor. Before I even pushed open the opulent glass door, the piercing sound of laughter spilled out. “That Sophia, she’s something else! Acts like she owns the place just because she got an unlimited black card. She practically lives here!” “Tell me about it! I’ve seen plenty of women like her. Probably blew her savings or maxed out all her credit cards just to afford that twenty thousand dollar card, all so she could pretend to be a socialite here!” “Fk! I’m sick of looking at her face! She has me massaging her all day, my hands are going to fall off!” That was Kyle’s voice, full of undisguised contempt and mockery. A few of the junior beauticians chimed in with snide remarks: “Kyle’s right. Her skin’s as rough as sandpaper; even the most expensive oils are useless on her! She should just stop coming and making a fool of herself!” “I bet she’s just desperate for attention, looking for a strong man like Kyle to pamper her!” “Hahahaha! Basically, just a cheapskate trying to freeload!” Their piercing laughter felt like needles pricking my ears. Rage surged through me, threatening to burst out. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I shoved the front door open violently and stormed inside. *Bang!* The laughter inside abruptly stopped. The air instantly dropped to freezing. Everyone stared at me as if they’d seen a ghost. “What right do you have to talk behind my back? Apologize to me, now!” I screamed, my eyes fixed on Kyle. The junior beauticians nervously lowered their heads, looking flustered. Kyle, however, only froze for a second before rolling his eyes dramatically and sneering. “Nobody was talking about you. What are you going crazy about?” “That’s a lie! I heard everything clearly from outside the door!” “No one else heard it, just you?” Kyle crossed his arms, wearing a defiant and arrogant smirk. “Are you crazy from all these treatments, hearing things?” As soon as he said that, a few junior beauticians couldn’t help but snicker, covering their mouths. Kyle puffed out his chest, smug as a general who’d won a battle. I clenched my fists so tight my nails dug deep into my palms, drawing blood. “Then why did you block me?” I demanded, grinding my teeth. Kyle eyed me dismissively, looking me up and down. “Look, lady! I’m so busy every day, I have to attend to so many real high-rollers worth millions of dollars!” “You keep sending messages to book appointments, it’s endless! I’m not your personal chat companion!” “Then what was that post you made about? What do you mean ‘pathetic cheapskate’?” “My card is unlimited! What right do you have to complain about how often I come?” “Didn’t you say today was fully booked? Why are you just standing here chatting if you’re so busy?” Kyle sneered, walking up to me and looking down. “Don’t I need a break? Get your facts straight, I’m a senior technician, not your slave!” “You bought a card and now you think you’re hot stuff? Who do you think you are, queen bee?” As he spoke, his chin was raised high, a disgusting look of superiority on his face. The other beauticians no longer bothered to hide their expressions, all casting looks of disdain and amusement. My temples throbbed with fury, and even my breath tasted of blood. I didn’t want to waste another second talking to this jerk. I turned and rushed to find Sharon, the owner, to get my refund.

Sharon’s office was at the end of the hallway. She was a woman in her forties with heavy makeup, reeking of cheap perfume and shrewd calculation. After I explained why I was there, she took a slow sip of her tea. Then, she leisurely pulled out a contract from her drawer, one I’d never seen before. “Sophia, calm down. But, you see, according to our store policy, if a client voluntarily cancels their membership, the refund must be calculated based on the highest-tier single session prices.” “You’ve visited us 15 times. At fifteen hundred dollars per session, that’s twenty-two thousand five hundred dollars. Plus, there’s a two thousand dollar fee for imported oils, a thousand for utilities, a thousand for equipment wear, and a thousand for service fees.” “All told, not only do you not get a refund, but you actually owe us three thousand dollars more.” I was so angry I laughed, then slammed that flimsy contract onto the table. “Sharon, are you serious? Is this a robbery? I never saw this contract when I bought the card!” Sharon’s face subtly changed, and her eyes hardened. “Sophia, it’s all in writing, our store policy. Go ahead and ask around, all the high-end places do this.” “Fine, then I’m not canceling. I want a different technician.” I said coldly. According to their store’s rules, if a customer demanded a different technician, Kyle’s commissions and bonuses for the month would be out the window, and he’d even get docked pay. Sharon’s face instantly turned ugly. “All our other technicians are fully booked, their schedules are packed.” “Kyle has always been our most outstanding head technician; no customer has ever complained about him. It must be a communication problem on your end!” “How about this, I’ll go talk to him for you later and ask him to continue doing your treatments. And you, well, you should try to control your temper and not always act so high and mighty.” My brain felt like it was about to explode from anger. So, it’s all my fault now? I took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to smash up the office. Finally, I said nothing, just pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of that ridiculous contract, and turned to leave. Behind me, Sharon snorted disdainfully, “Who does she think she is, trying to act like a big shot when she’s broke?”

For the next few days, I deliberately didn’t cancel the card and kept booking appointments. Since it was unlimited, I wanted to see what other tricks they had up their sleeves. Kyle outwardly resumed giving me treatments, but in reality, he was maliciously retaliating. Under the guise of a “deep detox,” he put me in the hottest sauna room. Normally, I’d steam for twenty minutes at most; he kept me in there for a full hour. I was also forced to drink scalding “detox tea.” I couldn’t stand the heat anymore and got up to leave. But then I discovered the sauna door was locked from the outside! I pounded on the glass door, shouting for help. Kyle stood just outside the door, watching me through the glass, sipping iced watermelon juice and smiling maliciously. “Sophia, you have too many toxins in your system; you need to sweat it out more!” “Didn’t you insist on coming for treatments? Take it or leave it!” He mouthed an insult at me. My head was spinning from the heat, my vision started to blur, and my heart pounded uncontrollably. He gave me the middle finger from outside. “You pathetic cheapskate, I’m doing this for your own good! To cleanse you of your poor vibes!” I finally endured until the time was up. When the door opened, I was completely drained, collapsing onto the damp floor, unable to get up. Just then, a few VIP clients walked in. I weakly tried to ask them for help. They were all Kyle’s regulars and had always resented me for “coming every day to take advantage.” They watched me coldly, making no move to help, instead covering their mouths and snickering. “Oh, isn’t that Sophia, the one who’s always clinging to Kyle? She really knows how to take advantage. Just because she bought a year pass? She has no sense of propriety!” “Exactly! Because of her, Kyle was upset, and he wasn’t even in the mood to chat when he was giving us our SPA!” “Heh heh! Serves her right! Must be crazy with poverty!” After that, they disdainfully walked past me, strolling smugly into the changing room. I bit my lip until it bled, forcing myself to stand up. Good. Very good. You all just wait.

One evening, Kyle, claiming he was too busy during the day, deliberately scheduled my appointment for ten p.m. That was almost closing time. After the treatment, I was completely exhausted. I dragged my wobbly body to the shower. I had just lathered shampoo into my hair when, suddenly, the water stopped! Then, *click*, the bathroom lights went out. The entire space plunged into dead silence and darkness. I yelled for a long time, but no one answered. I had no choice but to haphazardly wipe the soap off my body with a towel, fumble in the dark to put on my clothes, and rush out. The huge spa was completely dark and empty. Kyle stood outside the glass front door, illuminated by the faint corridor light, grinning chillingly at me like a demon. A bad feeling instantly washed over me. I hurried towards the front door. Suddenly, my foot slipped! I fell hard onto the unforgiving marble floor. “Ah!” A piercing pain instantly shot through my entire body. I cried out in agony, tears streaming from my eyes. In my panic, I reached out to feel the floor, only to discover it was covered in slippery massage oil! Not only that, a sharp, stabbing pain shot through my palm. I used the faint light from my phone to see: the oil was scattered with countless thumbtacks! My palms and knees were covered in blood from the punctures! Furious and in pain, I trembled as I looked up. Kyle stood outside the door, watching me with a smug, gloating expression, and mouthed, “Serves you right! Go to hell!” The next second, he cruelly pulled down the rolling shutter, locked it, and walked away, completely satisfied. My insides trembled with rage. Enduring the intense pain, I forced myself to get up. I shouted for help, but after a long time, only dead silence echoed back. I wanted to call the police, but when I picked up my phone, I realized there was no signal! They had installed a jammer! Desperate and helpless, I used my phone’s flashlight, limping to the front desk, and grabbed a heavy metal bar stool. I swung it violently at the expensive tempered glass door. Once! Twice! Three times! *CRASH! BANG! SMASH!* Glass shards flew everywhere, and the sound of shattering echoed throughout the entire floor. Dragging my injured body, I scrambled out of the spa in a mess, ran outside the mall, and immediately called 911 and an ambulance. The process of removing the pins at the hospital was agonizing. The doctors looked at my multiple injuries, shaking their heads with sighs. By the time I left the hospital, it was already dawn. Without even changing my clothes, I went straight to the police station. “Officer, I want to report a crime! Someone illegally detained me and intentionally harmed me!”

Half an hour later, Kyle arrived at the police station, his face tight. The moment he saw me, he pointed his finger at me and started yelling curses, his tone arrogant and vicious. “Are you sick? Reporting the damn police in the middle of the night! You fell down yourself by accident, and you’re blaming me? Don’t you sleep, but everyone else does!” Sharon, the owner, also arrived. She looked bleary-eyed, her hair disheveled, and her words were full of bias and blame. “Sophia, you’re aggressive in your speech, and you deliberately make things difficult for our Kyle. He’s already being generous by not bothering with you!” “And what about you? Reporting the police in the middle of the night over a trivial matter, causing trouble for people, it’s too much! I haven’t even charged you for smashing our store door yet!” I coldly swept my gaze over them. I pointed to the injury report on the table, then rolled up my sleeves, revealing the dense pinpricks and bruises on my arms and knees. “Trivial matter?” “Just because I bought an unlimited year card and came a bit more frequently, he got resentful and maliciously subjected me to physical punishment, locking me in a high-temperature sauna!” “Last night, he was even more insane, locking me in the store and deliberately pouring oil and scattering thumbtacks on the floor to harm me!” “You call this a trivial matter? This is attempted murder!” Sharon looked at me indifferently, a mocking smirk even playing on her lips. “Do you have any proof of what you’re saying?” “The surveillance footage is proof! Officer, I demand you check their store’s surveillance cameras!” I shouted. Sharon rolled her eyes and spread her hands. “Oh, how unlucky, our store’s surveillance system just happened to break yesterday afternoon. It’s still being repaired.” “You…!” A vein throbbed on my forehead, and I trembled with anger. Kyle, hiding behind Sharon, defiantly raised an eyebrow at me, flashing an extremely irritating smile. The next second, he pulled out his phone and, right in front of me, started fabricating stories in the VIP client SnapChat group, whining about what happened. He sent a voice message: “Ladies, you all see how it is every day, please speak up and clarify things for me! That Sophia went crazy, smashed up the store, and even called the police to arrest me!” The few wealthy clients in the group who had bought session cards and always disliked me quickly replied: “She’s lying! She clearly had malicious intentions towards Kyle, touching him inappropriately during her oil massage. She held a grudge after Kyle firmly rejected her, and that’s why she’s trying to frame him!” “Exactly! She clearly hid in the store on purpose, trying to prevent Kyle from leaving work, that’s why she got locked in. Those thumbtacks? She must have deliberately pricked herself, it’s a sympathy ploy! The whole thing is her own doing, that woman is truly evil!” “Kyle has always been so good to her, often sending her fruit and snacks. Not only is she ungrateful, but she’s also turning on him! She’s an absolute ungrateful wretch! They should arrest her instead!” Listening to those voice messages, my blood rushed to my head. I wanted to smash the phone in their faces. Sharon patted my shoulder, her tone full of a victor’s mockery. “Sophia, be a decent person! Stop causing trouble! You *will* pay for that door!” Kyle leaned close to me, speaking in a low, biting voice that only I could hear: “This is just a small warning! If you don’t learn your lesson and keep coming here every day, I’ll make sure you’re bedridden for life! And I’ll ruin that face of yours!” I glared at him. If looks could kill, he would have been sliced into a thousand pieces. Because of insufficient evidence — the surveillance was indeed broken, and I had destroyed the scene by smashing the door — the police could only temporarily not file a case. They treated it as a regular dispute, offered some admonishment, and sent us all home, telling me to compensate for the damaged glass door. Outside the police station, Kyle and Sharon walked arm in arm, like a victorious pair of scoundrels. They smirked at me, then got into Sharon’s BMW, embracing. I stood in the cold morning wind, hurting physically and raging inside, having been awake all night, my eyes bloodshot. But I didn’t cry. I pulled out my phone and dialed a number. “Hello, Mr. Davis? That ‘Dreamland Spa’ on the third floor of the mall? I’m not renewing their lease next month!”

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The dawn of my surgery, Ethan signed the consent form. Not to save me – but to take my bone marrow. After his sister, Chloe, was diagnosed with severe aplastic anemia, he and my stepmother, Victoria, conspired to trick me into the hospital. My bone marrow saved Chloe. I, on the other hand, developed a post-op infection and never left my bed again. I was barely twenty-six, and my immune system had completely crashed. The day the infection spread, he told me our entire marriage was for Chloe’s illness, that he’d checked my genetic match before marrying me. He said, “Your bone marrow saved a life. It was worth it.” Perhaps my very bones were screaming for justice on my behalf. When I opened my eyes again, I’d moved out of that city before he could find me. As for Chloe’s illness, this time, let’s see how you protect her. “Skylar, your dad’s last words, the night he left us, were for me to take good care of you.” My phone screen lit up for three seconds. Incoming call, my stepmother, Victoria. I answered. “What do you want?” “I’ve been looking for you for two years, and you haven’t returned a single call. If your dad knew how you were treating me—” “He won’t know now.” A few seconds of silence on her end. “Skylar, there’s someone who wants to meet you. He says you’re fated to meet.” “His name is Ethan.” The name drilled into my ear like an ice pick stabbing the back of my neck. “He says you two are a good match to get to know each other. His family is in pharmaceuticals, he’s a good person, I’ve vetted him for you—” I hit End Call. Turned off my phone. Threw it in the drawer. Two years. New city, new number, new company. I thought I’d run far enough. The next day at work, a bouquet of white Eustoma flowers sat on my desk. Harper poked her head over from the next cubicle. “Who sent them? A delivery guy came up specially early this morning.” I flipped open the card at the bottom of the bouquet. Printed text, one sentence. “Hello, Skylar.” No signature. But I recognized the flowers. In my last life, at our wedding, he personally chose white Eustoma as the main flower. Their language was unchanging love. I tossed the card and the flowers into the trash. Harper nearly spat out her coffee. “That’s decisive, even for you.” “The sender isn’t a good person.” “An ex?” “Worse than an ex.” Her eyebrows furrowed, and her mouth opened, but she didn’t press for details. At noon, I went out for coffee. A black car was parked outside the shop. The window rolled down halfway, revealing a face I’d seen repeatedly in countless nightmares. He had high brows, a straight nose, and a sharp jawline. The first time I saw him in my last life, my heart skipped a beat. Now, seeing him, all I felt was a sour twist in my stomach. “Skylar.” He called my name the exact same way as in my last life, with a slight upward lilt at the end. “Who are you?” “Ethan. Your stepmother should have mentioned me.” “She’s mentioned a lot of scammers.” He gave a small smile. The kind that was gentle, disarming. He used to smile like that, making you drop your guard instantly. “I’m not a scammer. I just wanted to buy you a coffee.” “No thanks.” “Five minutes is all I need.” He looked at me, utterly sincere. “There’s something I absolutely have to tell you in person. It’s about you.” About you. That’s how he started last time. A hook impossible to refuse, luring me willingly into his cage. “You checked my genetic match.” His pupils contracted. But quickly returned to normal. “What match? I don’t understand.” “If you don’t understand, why are you looking for me?” “Just to get acquainted.” He pulled a business card from his pocket and held it out. “I’m working on a rare disease charity foundation—” “New packaging, same old trick.” His hand froze in mid-air. “Last life, you used a class reunion.” The moment those words slipped out, I knew I’d said too much. “Last life?” His brows subtly furrowed. “I meant the last time. The last time you contacted Victoria, you made up an excuse then too.” No one took the business card. He retracted his hand and looked at me for a few seconds. “Skylar, you’ve misunderstood me.” “No. I understand you perfectly.” I turned and walked three steps before his voice caught up from behind. Not rushed or annoyed, even carrying a hint of a smile. “Skylar, my sister is dying.” I stopped. Not out of softness. But because he’d never said those words in my last life. Back then, he’d wrapped the truth in ten layers of sugar coating, waiting until I was married, on the operating table, to tear off the paper. “Her name is Chloe, she’s twenty-three, and she has severe aplastic anemia. No one in our family is a match. The national bone marrow registry can’t find a suitable donor either.” His voice was as calm as if he were reading a medical chart. “Only you. Your HLA match is perfect with hers. Ten out of ten loci, a complete match. That’s a one in a hundred thousand probability.” The wind blew. My coffee grew cold. He stood in the late autumn light, smiling gently, like a kind-hearted person asking for help. “What does that have to do with me?” “Your genes can save her.” “They’re my genes. Not your tools.” His smile finally cracked. “I never thought of you as a tool.” I turned and walked into the office building. The moment the glass doors closed, I saw the expression on his face in the reflection. It was no longer gentle. “Skylar, if you don’t help her, can you live with yourself?”

“What did you say to him yesterday?” Victoria’s call came in again. This time, I didn’t hang up. I needed to know what cards she still held. “I didn’t say anything.” “He told me you mentioned a genetic match. How would you know about that?” I leaned against the tiled wall in the restroom, my voice steady. “He let it slip himself.” “He also said you said some very strange things. Skylar, have you been listening to rumors?” “What rumors?” “Some people say the Victor family is using you. That’s nonsense. Ethan is a respectable man, his family runs a pharmaceutical group—” “So, how much did you take?” Silence on her end for two seconds. “Skylar, why do you always think that about Mom?” “Just tell me.” Her tone sharpened a little, like I’d stepped on her tail. “Skylar, after your dad passed, I was left to shoulder everything! You ran off for two years, leaving me to handle the mortgage and utilities alone. The Victor family is just being charitable—” “You call selling my medical report to someone else ‘charitable’?” “Who sold it? Who sold it!” Her voice became shrill. “Your dad asked me to keep it for you! Ethan came asking about you, and I was just showing concern—” “You even told him which hospital I had my check-ups at.” “That was—” “Thyroid function, complete blood count, full immune panel. And HLA typing. Victoria, ordinary people don’t get HLA tests unless it’s for an organ or bone marrow transplant.” The breathing on the other end caught. A long silence followed. She switched her tone, softening, easing, like she’d put on a different mask. “Skylar, even if I did something wrong, that girl is really dying. I saw her photos, she’s only twenty-three, just skin and bones—” “It has nothing to do with me.” “Can’t you just go for a match confirmation? It’s just a simple blood draw—” “That’s what you told me last time.” The words slipped out, and I immediately clamped my mouth shut. “Last time? What last time?” “Nothing.” “Skylar, you’ve been talking stranger and stranger lately. ‘Last life,’ ‘last time’—” “I’m hanging up.” I turned off my phone and stood at the sink for two minutes. My knuckles were turning white. I’d let it slip again. Every time I faced these two, memories from my last life surged out, uncontrollable. In the afternoon, Harper returned from outside, her face troubled. “Skylar, there’s a woman downstairs. She says she’s your mother.” “She’s not.” “She was crying really hard. Security asked if she wanted them to call the police, and she said her daughter hadn’t come home in two years, and she just wanted to see her.” I walked to the window. Victoria stood at the office building entrance. Plain dress, no makeup, red-rimmed eyes, clutching an old worn bag. A forty-seven-year-old woman, her hair perfectly neat, her scarf tucked into her collar, exposing only a sliver of her collarbone. Light makeup, simple clothes—a perfect picture of a wronged, devoted mother. She adjusted her glasses, borrowed a tissue from a passerby to wipe her tears, and thanked them three times as they handed it to her. Such a good performance. “Keep an eye on her for me,” I told Harper. “See who she contacts.” Harper hesitated. “She really isn’t your mom?” “My mom died nineteen years ago.” Harper didn’t ask again. I slipped out the back door of the office building and hid in the convenience store across the street. Through the glass, I saw Victoria pull out her phone. The call lasted less than thirty seconds. After hanging up, she glanced up at the office building, and her lips curved slightly. Not the kind of smile someone genuinely crying would have. Ten minutes later, the black car appeared at the intersection. Ethan got out of the car and walked to her side. They exchanged a few words. He handed her an envelope. Victoria took it, looked down at it, and smiled. She accepted the envelope much faster than she’d wiped away her tears. I pulled out my phone and took a photo. Time, location, both their faces. Harper sent me a message: “She left, with another guy. Do you know him?” “Yes.” “Should you call the police?” “Not yet.” Back at the office, a brown envelope sat on my desk. Not a delivery. Someone had placed it there directly while I was out. I tore it open. A hospital report. Not mine. Chloe’s. Her white blood cell count was alarmingly low. Platelets almost zero. A note was attached at the end. “Skylar, she only has two months left. You are her only hope.” On the back was another small line: “If you don’t come, her blood is on your hands.” Harper leaned over. “What is it?” I flipped the note over and showed her the last line. She stared at it for five seconds. “Is that a threat, seriously?”

“Miss Skylar, someone’s here to see you. In the conference room.” The receptionist’s voice carried a subtle peculiarity. Colleagues along the hallway were all secretly glancing in that direction. I pushed open the conference room door. A thin, frail girl sat in a chair. Her face was sallow, her lips almost bloodless. Her hands showed bruised marks from IV lines. Chloe. She looked even more gaunt than I remembered from my last life. She saw me, and her eyes immediately reddened. “Miss Skylar.” Her voice was so weak it sounded like a puff of wind could scatter it. “I know I shouldn’t have come to you directly.” Next to her sat a middle-aged woman. Her makeup was meticulously applied, but beneath it was an undisguised scrutinizing gaze. “And who are you?” The woman stood up, extending her hand. “I’m Chloe’s mother, Eleanor. Thank you for agreeing to see us.” I didn’t take her hand. Eleanor’s hand hung in the air for two seconds, then retracted. The smile on her face didn’t falter. Chloe lowered her head, a tear falling onto her oversized cardigan. Beneath the cardigan, the blue and white stripes of a hospital gown were visible. “I’m not here to beg you. I just wanted to see what you look like with my own eyes.” “Why look at me?” “Ethan said your genetic match is perfect with mine.” “I didn’t know about this before. I looked up a lot of information, and bone marrow donation usually causes minimal harm to the donor—” “Usually.” She paused. “You said usually.” I looked at her face. “Did you also look up the probability of post-op infection? Did you read about cases where donors’ immune systems crashed?” Chloe’s lips moved, but she didn’t respond. Eleanor interjected. “Miss Skylar, medical conditions are very advanced now. The post-op infection rate in large hospitals is less than one percent. We will hire the best specialists—” “Your daughter’s life matters, but mine doesn’t?” The conference room fell silent for two seconds. Eleanor’s expression shifted subtly, then quickly morphed into a more polished smile. She took a bank card from her bag and pushed it across the table. “Miss Skylar, you’re right. So we want to talk to you properly. Compensation-wise, just name your price.” I glanced at the card. “You think bone marrow can be priced.” “It’s not pricing! It’s gratitude—” “Your gratitude involves first buying my genetic information, then having Ethan approach me under the guise of a charity foundation. What’s next? Is the next step arranging a blind date?” Eleanor’s hand froze on the table. Chloe looked up. “Miss Skylar, what are you saying? Ethan wouldn’t—” “Chloe, do you know how Ethan found me?” Her lips trembled. “He said… it was through the bone marrow registry.” “I’ve never registered with any bone marrow registry.” Her eyelashes fluttered. The conference room door was pushed open. Ethan walked in. His gaze swept over Eleanor and Chloe, finally landing on me. “Mom, I told you not to bring Chloe.” There was restrained annoyance in his voice. He then turned to me, his expression switching to that infuriatingly gentle one. “Skylar, I’m sorry. They’re just too desperate.” He was always playing the good guy. “Skylar, I know you’re wary of me.” He sat opposite me, hands clasped. “But this isn’t just between you and me. There’s a twenty-three-year-old life at stake.” “That life has nothing to do with me.” “Your genes can save her.” “Those are my genes, not your pharmacy.” His jawline tightened for a moment. Chloe suddenly began to cough violently. Eleanor quickly supported her. She turned to me and yelled, “Look at her! Look at what she’s become—” “Mom!” Ethan said in a low, sharp voice. Chloe pressed her hand to her mouth, her fingertips stained with blood. She looked up and gave me a faint smile. “Miss Skylar, it’s okay. If you don’t want to, I don’t blame you.” That sentence was more effective than all the pleas and accusations. Because when she smiled, there was something in her eyes. Not pleading, but certainty. She was certain I would compromise, just like in my last life. “Conference room time is up. Please leave.” When I walked out the door, everyone in the hallway was watching. Someone whispered, their voice not too loud, not too soft, just loud enough for me to hear. “That girl is so pathetic, dying of leukemia, why won’t she save her…” “It’s just a little bone marrow donation.” My steps paused, then I continued walking. Ethan’s voice followed me from behind, gentle, considerate, for all my colleagues to hear. “Skylar, whenever you change your mind, contact me. I’ll be waiting.”

“Skylar!” Harper grabbed me as soon as she arrived at the office, her palms cold. “You’re trending.” She handed me her phone. A post. Over three thousand shares. The title: “My sister can save me, but she refused.” The profile picture was a blurry hospital photo. The text was long. The gist was—she had severe aplastic anemia, and her entire family was a mismatch. She finally found the only perfect donor in a vast sea of people and gathered all her courage to meet them. The other person refused. The post didn’t mention my name. But it listed the city, the industry, and the specific building and district where my company was located. The comments section was flooded. “It’s just a bone marrow donation that can save a life, how can she refuse?” “It might not be illegal, but what about her conscience?” “This kind of person should be dragged through the mud online.” I handed the phone back to Harper. “What do we do?” she whispered. “HR has already inquired. Asking if you’re the person in the post.” “It’s me.” “Skylar—” “Don’t panic yet. Help me find something out. This post was made yesterday at 11:47 PM. Can you trace the IP address?” “I’ll try.” At ten o’clock that morning, my supervisor called me into his office. “Skylar, the company is facing a lot of public pressure right now. Clients have seen it too.” He pushed up his glasses. “Can you take a leave of absence for now? Come back after things have settled down.” “How long?” “It depends.” I didn’t argue. Arguing was useless. The post was precise down to the floor number. Anyone who could do that either had been to the company or had an insider. While packing my things, my phone rang. It was Victoria. “Skylar, you saw the online situation, right?” There was a prickle of smugness in her voice. “I think that girl has a point—” “Did you help her post it?” “Not me. But running away like this isn’t a solution.” “How much money did you take, exactly?” “Skylar!” I gripped the phone, my knuckles white. “How much did the Victor family give you? Name your price.” She fell silent for three seconds. Then her voice dropped, as if she finally gave up pretending. “Five hundred thousand. They gave me five hundred thousand upfront. Said they’d give another five hundred thousand once it was done.” A million. My bone marrow was worth a million. She probably got the same price in my last life. Only, I died then without ever knowing. “Skylar, just do me a favor—” “You’re not my mom.” I hung up. At noon, the office door was pushed open. Two people in white coats stood at the entrance. “Excuse me, are you Ms. Skylar? We’re the medical check-up agency that partners with your company, here for the annual employee check-ups today.” My supervisor stood behind them, nodding at me. “Since you haven’t left yet, you might as well get your check-up done.” I looked at their faces. I’d been to the company’s partnered check-up agency twice before, and I’d never seen these two. “There’s no check-up scheduled for today.” “It’s a last-minute addition.” The man in the white coat smiled. “Just a blood draw, it’ll be quick.” Blood draw. One of the ways to confirm HLA matching is a blood test. “I’m not doing it.” “Miss Skylar—” “I said no.” I picked up my bag and started to walk out. The man moved half a step, blocking the doorway. “It’ll take three minutes.” He already had a blood collection tube and tourniquet in his hand. Harper’s voice came from outside. “Which medical agency are you from? Show me your ID badge.” “This colleague—” “Are you going to show me? If not, I’m calling 911.” A commotion erupted outside the door. I squeezed past the man, Harper grabbed my arm, and we both rushed into the elevator. The moment the elevator doors closed, I saw Ethan’s figure in the lobby. He leaned by the reception desk, hands in his pockets. Seeing my gaze, he subtly tilted his head. A slight curve of his lips. Not an apology, but a silent “you can’t escape.” Harper shoved me into her car. She drove for ten minutes before stopping in an underground parking garage. “Those two people’s ID numbers were fake. I already called the check-up company, and they said there were no plans scheduled for today.” She handed me a bottle of water. I twisted it open and drank half. “Skylar, what exactly is going on? Tell me everything, from the beginning.” I looked at her. There weren’t many people left in this world I trusted. In my last life, I didn’t even have a single friend. “You’ll be scared if I tell you.” “Just tell me.” I recounted everything. Except for the part about being reborn. Harper listened, silent for a long time. “He used your stepmother as an insider to get your genetic data. After confirming the match, he looked for you for two years. Now his sister can’t wait any longer, and he’s even faking medical check-ups, trying to forcibly take your blood.” “Yeah.” “That’s a crime.” “I know.” “Then why aren’t you calling the police right now?” I looked out at the dark parking garage. Call the police. I had in my last life too. The police came, he pulled out our marriage certificate and called it a domestic dispute. Victoria stood next to him, nodding along. No one spoke up for me. “Let’s wait.” “Wait for what?” “Wait for him to think I’m truly at my wit’s end.” Harper stared at me for a long time. “Skylar, are you playing chess?” “Something like that.” “Then what do you need?” “Someone to set up cameras for me.”

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After Christina, my girlfriend, saw her massive garden wither overnight, she sued me, Ethan, Ashworth’s top florist, and I was sentenced to three years in prison. While inside, I heard about her ninth engagement to her ex, Raphael. A reporter asked her: “Ms. Christina, the first thing you did after sending Mr. Ethan to prison was to get engaged to this gentleman. Is there a connection between these two events?” “Don’t make wild guesses. Raphael and I are just pretending to be engaged to punish Ethan for his floristry mistake. I’ll wait for Ethan to get out of prison, then I’ll marry him!” Christina faced the reporters with an annoyed tone, her words clearly defending me. Everyone present couldn’t help but marvel at the wealthy heiress’s love for me, bizarre as it was, it seemed profound. Everyone at Ashworth knew Christina loved flowers more than anything. So, a mandatory condition for her future husband was exquisite floristry skills, someone who would meticulously care for her sprawling estate garden. To ensure I passed her endless tests, whenever I made a mistake, she’d punish me with a ‘fake engagement’ to her ex. I never expected that this time, the punishment would include sending me to jail. I watched the poor quality news footage, finding it dull and hypocritical.

After three years of torment and my release from prison, Christina actually knelt before me, her eyes full of eagerness and remorse: “Marry me, Ethan? The past is the past. I forgive you.” “Forgive me?” I replied, stunned. I looked at the once imperious Christina, now kneeling before me in a heavy, elaborate wedding dress and high heels. I admit, I was somewhat disoriented, but mostly, I felt the exhaustion from three years of relentless torment. “Hey! What are you staring at? Don’t you see what Christina is doing? Just say yes!” Seeing the wealthy heiress so eager to marry a disheveled ex-con, the onlookers, who were just there to gawk and applaud, couldn’t help but scold me, the male lead. The swarming media and crowds created an oppressive atmosphere, forcing me to bend down, intending to help Christina up first. Just as I extended my hand, ready to push away the ring and refuse, Christina suddenly handed the ring to Raphael, who was beside her, and burst out laughing at me: “Look at you, still so clueless. You haven’t even passed my test yet, and you’re already dreaming of marrying me? What are you thinking?” “Right, Raphael? This ring was custom-made for your size. A birthday surprise for you! Happy?” Her gaze towards Raphael was full of girlish anticipation. Before Christina’s words even faded, the roar of laughter from the crowd became deafening. “So funny! Doesn’t he take a good look at himself? Still fantasizing about marrying a rich heiress.” “Why does Christina fall for a guy like him?” “I don’t think Ms. Christina is infatuated. It’s Ethan who’s willing to grovel like a dog for Ms. Christina.” “Ms. Christina is used to charming millionaires, but a lapdog? That’s new.” As the background music swelled to a climax, my head buzzed, and I couldn’t hear anything clearly. All I saw were faces sneering at me, and Christina and Raphael wrapped intimately together. Yes, what illusions was I still holding about Christina? It had been nine years. She had punished me countless times with similar methods, always citing failed assessments. This was the tenth time I witnessed her ‘marry’ herself off to Raphael. Everyone mocked me, saying all I had was my floristry skill; my background and looks were nothing next to Christina’s.

In the past, whenever I faced these rumors, she would always stand in front of me, scolding the gossipers, then turn, lean down, cup my face, and console me: “Ethan, when I got together with you, I knew you were the one. I don’t care about your background; your talent is all I value.” Her constant reassurances made me fall for her again and again. But after three years in prison, I finally understood that rumors don’t just appear out of nowhere. It was Christina herself who repeatedly humiliated me and turned me into Ashworth’s biggest joke, slowly eroding all the passion I had for this relationship. The crowd finally dispersed, but the excitement in Christina’s eyes hadn’t completely faded. When her gaze landed on me, it dimmed considerably. “Are you angry about earlier? All the flowers in my garden died that year, and I still haven’t gotten over it. Come back and explain it to me properly.” She said, feigning shyness, her hands casually resting on my shoulders. This was her usual way of flirting. I felt no stirring. In fact, she reminded me. I also wanted to uncover the truth behind my innocent three-year imprisonment, especially since those flowers withering overnight had absolutely nothing to do with me. Back at the mansion, all the staff seemed to have received special instructions. Their attitude towards me was no longer disdainful like three years ago, but overly solicitous and attentive. Massages, fresh clothes, a lavish dinner—everything was arranged for me. “Well? Ethan, are you satisfied? Those three years weren’t just hard for you; waiting for you was tough for me too~” Christina looked at me eagerly, wearing a skimpy swimsuit. “If you thought I’d have a tough time, why did you send me to prison?” I took the opportunity to ask, genuinely confused. “The day after we argued, all the flowers in my garden died. You know how much I loved those flowers. How could I not doubt your sincerity after you did something like that?” “I told you many times, I didn’t do it!” “You still won’t admit it. Raphael was right; you were only with me for the money! That’s why you weren’t sincere with me!” As she said this, the anger and contempt in Christina’s eyes were almost overflowing. I knew that look all too well. In her mind, she would never believe my words. But she’d believe every word Raphael said, no matter how absurd, but never mine. “Since you’re still unrepentant, then our engagement will be postponed indefinitely. The assessment continues!” Christina indignantly wrapped a towel around herself, one corner sweeping sharply across my face. With the stinging pain on my cheek, I stood frozen, like I’d swallowed a fishbone. My throat felt raw and bloody, my every breath tasted of iron. I opened my mouth but couldn’t manage a single word. I wanted to tell Christina that our engagement should have been called off long ago, that I no longer wanted to marry her. I’d find the truth, then I’d leave. After staring blankly by the pool for several hours, I dragged my tired body back to my room, only to find the master bedroom locked. I asked Brenda, the housekeeper, but she just gave me a cold stare. “Ms. Christina said you can’t sleep in the master bedroom tonight. Your things have been moved to the storage room.” Brenda gestured towards a tiny storage room, barely big enough to turn around in, then turned and gave me a sneering, contemptuous look. She seemed to be waiting to see my reaction to her humiliation. I curved my lips, letting out a self-deprecating laugh. “Serving Christina must feel great, huh? You even get to play with me, her ‘dog,’ now and then!” Brenda quickly feigned a look of fear and made a hollow excuse, “Oh, no, sir, I wouldn’t dare.”

But I had only taken two steps when I heard her and the other staff laughing. Looking at the bed in the storage room, barely two feet wide, I clutched my head, overwhelmed, trying my best to suppress the surging emotions within me. Perhaps triggered by my terrible mood, an old injury from prison flared up. My entire lower body suddenly went numb. I dragged my heavy frame, painfully crawling to the door, yelling for help outside. “Help! Can someone please get me my medication!” I used all my strength, banging on the door and screaming desperately. No one responded. It wasn’t until half an hour later that Christina’s voice, laced with amusement, drifted up. “Ethan, do you think acting pitiful like this will make me forgive you sooner?” “Raphael, look at him. If you had been more like him back then, maybe we wouldn’t have broken up.” Christina gently opened the door, peered through the crack, looking down at me playfully, then coyly nudged the man beside her with her finger. “Christina, my leg injury flared up. Please send me…” I ignored their mockery, enduring the intense pain as I looked at Christina with pleading eyes. But before I could finish, Raphael cut me off. He kicked me on the floor, laughing loudly. “I’m not going to be a lapdog.” “Alright, let’s stop looking at the chihuahua. Christina, didn’t you want me to come back with you to get that expensive custom-made sexy lingerie? Let’s not waste any more time!” Hearing this, Christina’s smug expression froze. After a moment, she looked at me with a slightly apologetic gaze. “Uh… Ethan, don’t misunderstand. I just booked a private photoshoot, and since we argued, I just asked Raphael to come with me.” “We… there’s nothing going on. You… you should rest well. Don’t stay on the cold floor.” Christina’s explanation was weak and unconvincing… but I no longer had the energy to care. When I tried to raise my head again, reaching out to Christina for help, she abruptly shut the door, almost catching my hand. I lay on the floor, wailing in desperate pain, only hearing Christina’s coy, chiding voice fading into the distance. The next time I woke, I was in a hospital. “You’re awake?” Christina’s slightly anxious voice actually reached my ears. “Why didn’t you make it clear yesterday? Brenda said you called for help for a long time.” Before I could reply, Christina continued, feigning urgent concern. “Didn’t you tell Brenda to ignore me?” I looked at her coldly. “I told her to just give you a small punishment, not to let you die! Don’t worry, I’ve fired Brenda. Is that enough?” She angrily picked up her phone, quickly typed a few words, then looked at me with an imperious expression. As if any emotion from me was now my fault. She always played dumb, never realizing that the one who constantly hurt me was always herself. I closed my eyes in despair, not saying another word. Just then, Christina’s phone rang, and her voice immediately reverted to its sweetest tone. “Okay, tonight we won’t go home until we’re smashed. Wait for me at our usual spot.” “The doctor said you’re fine. You rest well. I’ll come back to see you later.” After hanging up, she hastily grabbed her bag and left, leaving me with only her retreating back. Because it was an old injury, the doctor gave me the usual specialized medication, and the immediate effect was significant.

I could move freely now, truly no different from a normal person. But when I was discharged, the doctor looked worried. “Mr. Ethan, you need this surgery soon. The injury has affected the foundation. If you delay it further, it will spread to your limbs, and potentially… full paralysis.” Even though the prison doctor had told me similar things, hearing the words “full paralysis” again still left me stunned for a long time. Full paralysis… what a devastating outcome for a top florist… Christina, all this is thanks to you. Are you satisfied? I sat blankly on the sofa, looking at the follow-up recommendations on my medical record, suddenly feeling utterly pointless. I wiped away a tear, booked the earliest flight to France, departing tomorrow afternoon at three. Just then, my phone rang. The words ‘My Love’ on the screen flashed, stinging my eyes. I didn’t answer. After the tenth call, I still couldn’t resist hitting the answer button. Christina’s sobbing voice came through the phone. “Ethan, I’m drunk. Please come pick me up. I’m so sorry for everything lately. I know I was wrong.” “Just come get me and take me home. You can do anything you want. We’ll be good together from now on, okay?” Christina’s sobs grew more pitiful, almost breaking down. Hearing her fragile state, my heart still gave an involuntary tug. Almost as soon as I hung up, I rushed to the garage. By the time I regained my senses, I had already floored the accelerator. I told myself, this is the last time. Let it be… a farewell. Inside the decadent club, laughter of indulgence filled the air. I was wearing a stuffy old suit, completely out of place in the environment. Ignoring the cold, mocking stares, I gasped for breath and rushed towards the VIP room at the end of the corridor. Peeking through the crack in the door, I saw Christina in a sexy, low-back dress, dancing intimately with Raphael. As the music entered a more intimate rhythm, they embraced and kissed, Christina clearly enjoying herself, lost in the moment. “Hey, Ethan, you made it!” Others in the room noticed me, and the music abruptly stopped. Christina looked at me, her expression calm, even a little smug. “Ethan, I knew you’d come. These guys didn’t believe me, insisting I call you.” “Don’t misunderstand, I just lost a game earlier and was doing a dare.” Almost simultaneously, deafening laughter erupted in the room. Raphael looked at my embarrassment, a mischievous, provocative thought sparking in his mind. “Since you’re here, why don’t you join us? Let me introduce you to some of your old friends.” As I stood there confused, three burly men emerged from another room in the VIP suite. Recognizing their faces, I started trembling uncontrollably, a cold sweat instantly breaking out on my back. “Remember them? You should be quite familiar, right?” Raphael said with a smile. I wanted to ask him what he meant, but my throat felt filled with lead; I couldn’t make a sound. “Ethan, Raphael said you two had some past grievances. Why don’t you take this opportunity to settle things here?” “Just apologize to them sincerely. Then this matter will be resolved, right, Raphael?” Seeing my lack of response, Christina feigned trying to mediate. “Bullshit feud! It was one-sided abuse!” I couldn’t hold back anymore. Anger finally triumphed over fear, and I retorted sharply.

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