Author: Momo Chan

In the fifth year of my marriage to James Carson, a shadow fell over my once-comfortable life. A young, beautiful assistant appeared by his side, her presence like an unspoken threat, unraveling everything I had built. But that was nothing compared to the cruel twist of fate that awaited me—I had entered the final countdown of my life. I was dying. I had to seek revenge. Life is full of regrets, and I simply had more than most. Leaving the doctor’s office, I took a picture of my medical report and sent it to James. His reply came quickly. “Baby, I have a business trip today, so I’ll be home late. Get some rest early.” He didn’t even glance at the report I sent him. Remembering the doctor’s words, I wanted to cry, to let it all out, but realized I had forgotten how to cry. “The situation isn’t good. You should be admitted for treatment… at most, six months.” The doctor’s words felt like a verdict, freezing my life at age 25.

James didn’t come home that night. Six months ago, I found out he had a “canary” — a girl he was hiding in an apartment right across from Carson Corp. Tower. He thought I didn’t know about his affair, but his little canary was far from subtle, flaunting her “perfect” life all over Instagram, almost daring me to notice. It all started when an unknown number added me on WhatsApp, claiming to be Lily Moore, James’s assistant. I rarely left the house and barely contacted anyone from his work. I didn’t even have the phone number of James’s long-time secretary. So, an assistant having my contact? That was suspicious on its own. As expected, Lily’s Instagram was full of photos with James—traveling together, skiing together, having dinner together… None of them were overly intimate, but the chemistry was palpable in every shot. Afterward, I ordered all my favorite dishes for myself, indulging in the feast alone. Was I heartbroken? Maybe once, but my body couldn’t afford the luxury of dwelling on meaningless heartbreak. “Madam, shall I make you some soup for nourishment?” Mrs. Turner, who had cared for me for years, looked at me with concern as I devoured the meal. “No, thank you. I just want to enjoy a good meal. One won’t hurt.” I gave Mrs. Turner a six-month leave, with full pay. I’m an odd person—I crave attention, but when it’s given, I never know how to handle it. At the end of my life, I just wanted to slip away quietly, alone.

“Baby, wake up. I made breakfast. Have some before you go back to sleep.” James always had this way of being gentle, like he could melt you with his touch, no matter how high the walls around your heart were. “When did you get back?” I masked all my thoughts and spoke to him as usual. “Got home at six this morning. Where’s Mrs. Turner? Did she take the day off?” He laid out my clothes and tidied the bed with care. He followed me into the bathroom, squeezing toothpaste onto my brush while I got ready. After my shower, he was waiting with a towel to dry me off, even blow-drying my hair. Could a man this attentive really be unfaithful? I had asked myself this question countless times. “Mrs. Turner had some personal matters, so I gave her a six-month break.” “Should we hire another caretaker? I don’t like the idea of you being home alone.” James’s eyes never left me, his gaze soft and tender, pulling me in. But the faint scent of women’s perfume lingering in the air reminded me of just how deceptive James had become. “No need. It’s only for six months. I was thinking of traveling to Europe anyway.” “Europe? Is your health up for that? What did the doctors say yesterday?” James’s worry seemed genuine as he took my hand and kept asking. His concern wasn’t fake. I searched his face for any signs of pretense, but I found none. Could love be this well acted? “The results are the same. But you know how much I’ve always wanted to see Europe—castles, scenery, it’ll do me good.” “Alright, baby. I’m sorry I can’t go with you, I’m just too busy. Take lots of photos, okay? And please, hire a caretaker to look after you.” James visibly relaxed as he said this. “Yeah, I will.” James kept talking as I quietly ate breakfast, saying little in return. I was too scared to slip, too afraid I might blurt out the truth, afraid I’d lose the last bit of composure I had. When I first discovered his affair, I had already thought of revenge. Divorce? I didn’t have time for that. I wasn’t going to waste what was left of my life on something so pointless. Whether I divorced him or not didn’t change a thing. Who cares what you’re called after you’re gone? No, the only thing I could do was ruin his reputation, make the scandal explode. That seemed to be the only power I still held. With James, he always did most of the talking. Maybe it had to do with my upbringing—I wasn’t much of a talker, but I loved listening to him. I never went to school, so James hired a tutor just for me. Back then, after his classes, he’d run over to my house, grade my homework, and go over my progress. He would ramble on about everything that happened at school—who got bullied, who was annoying, who tattled on someone. With him around, my life seemed so full. Even now, after work, he would recount his entire day, tell me what he ate, what meetings he attended, who he met, and even send me videos and pictures. It was this James Carson that made me believe in our love for so long. “Baby, guess what this is?” James slid an elegantly wrapped box toward me. “What is it? A gift?” In that moment, I forgot about his affair, instinctively reacting with curiosity, wondering what was inside. I opened the box—it was an evening gown designed by James himself. Light green, my favorite color. A color full of life. I didn’t go out much, and my skin was pale. James used to say that when I wore green, I looked like a little fawn in the woods. I put on the dress, did a simple makeup look, and called a photography team to the house to take tons of beautiful photos. James was in some of the pictures too. Today, James didn’t leave the house. We spent the day painting and watching movies together. It felt like we had gone back to the way things used to be. We had endless conversations and shared so much. That night, after my shower, I found James waiting for me in bed. I hesitated for a moment, thinking of what the private investigator had uncovered. James and Lily hadn’t taken things that far yet. Just for tonight—one last night with the man who had once loved me so deeply. Because of my health, we hadn’t been intimate much. But that night, James held me close, his gentle kisses falling all over me. I had always restrained myself, wanting to live longer, but tonight I indulged. It was a goodbye, a final release. Afterward, James carefully cleaned me up, holding me as we fell asleep. “James.” I wanted to ask him about Lily. “Hmm? What is it, baby? Are you uncomfortable? Let me massage you.” His large hand rested on my lower back, gently kneading. He was so tender. I couldn’t understand it anymore. “James, if you don’t love me anymore, please tell me. I’ll leave without making a fuss.” In the end, I couldn’t bring myself to ask him about the affair. Maybe I didn’t want to lose this last moment of tenderness. “Anna, I love you. I’ve always loved you. It’s been over ten years, and nothing’s changed. Wherever you are, that’s where my home is. I can’t even imagine my life without you.” James held me tighter. That night, I didn’t sleep well. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, illuminating James’s face. At 30, he still looked young, but his features were more defined than before. Tracing the contours of his face, I mentally said goodbye to my youth. Back when I used to read novels, whenever I came across stories of men cheating, I’d wonder how I’d react if my own husband did the same. Would I lose my mind? Would I become hysterical, unable to let go? But in reality, from the moment I found out about James’s affair, I was calm. No anger, no drama. It felt like all the energy had been drained out of me. All I wanted was to get away from this place.

James was supposed to take me to the airport, but he left after taking a phone call. I found a seat by the window, watching the bustling crowds when a young woman approached me. I had never seen her before, but I knew instantly who she was—Lily Moore, James’s little “canary.” Lily reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Lily Moore. I’d like to talk to you about James.” I didn’t shake her hand. I didn’t have the strength, and frankly, the thought of touching her made me feel dirty. I turned on the voice recorder on my phone and motioned for her to sit across from me. “Go ahead, have a seat. I have a flight to catch, so you’ve got twenty minutes.” I studied the young girl closely—pretty, cute, radiating youth. It wasn’t hard to see why James liked her. Hell, even I could see the appeal. Years of medication had left me feeling like an old woman. “Anna Stevens, you know I’m with James now. Why haven’t you divorced him? He says he doesn’t love you. A loveless, sexless marriage—what’s the point?” Too young, too bold. She ruined her pretty face the moment she opened her mouth. “You’re the third woman to come to me with this story. All of you say James doesn’t love me, that you’re his one true love, and all of you beg me to leave him. If you’re so close to him, why not ask James to divorce me instead?” Lily’s face flashed with disbelief, but she quickly tried to regain her composure. “James is an adult. He can decide for himself whether he loves you or not, and if he wants to stay with you.” “You’re lying. James is with me all the time. There’s no way he’s seeing anyone else.” I wasn’t lying, though. Back in college, there was a girl who came to me, asking me to let James go. After James started at Carson Corp., another woman, arranged by his parents, tried to get between us. And now Lily Moore was the third. “James tells me the same thing—that he only loves me, that there’s no one else. Now, who should I believe?” I found a strange sense of amusement in this, watching Lily’s expressions shift from shock to anger. It was entertaining, really. “You’re doing this on purpose. You refuse to divorce him so that our relationship can’t be public. Well, you won’t win.” She spat out her words and instinctively placed a protective hand over her stomach. Was this supposed to provoke me? I knew for a fact James hadn’t slept with her yet, so whose baby was she carrying? “You’re here because James wouldn’t agree to divorce me, aren’t you? I bet you’ve cried, screamed, done everything to try and hold onto him. That’s why you got pregnant, right?” “But Miss Moore, you seem to have forgotten—people in our circle keep mistresses all the time. Don’t like one? They’ll just find another. It’s cleaner than hiring a prostitute, and they don’t have to worry about catching something.” Watching Lily’s face darken brought a surprising sense of relief to my troubled mind. “But none of these canaries ever make it into the house.” I looked her over, carefully evaluating the young woman sitting before me. “You know why?” I pointed at her head. “Because they’re too stupid. Beautiful, stupid toys you can play with, but no man in his right mind would bring one home to ruin the family.” The display of emotions on her face was truly fascinating. “James told me you can’t have children. The Carson family would never let you keep the title of Mrs. Carson. You’re going to be thrown out sooner or later.” Her voice shook with rage. “With today’s technology, James and I could have a child whenever we want. We could even select the best genes for the smartest baby. If you want to trade your womb for your future, that’s your business. But I doubt any illegitimate child of yours will ever enter the Carson home.” She wasn’t wrong—I couldn’t have children. But when we got married, we had agreed to use surrogacy by the time I turned 30. “Oh, by the way, are you sure the baby’s James’s? You can do a DNA test at three months, you know.” “You…!” Lily trembled with anger and stormed off in a huff. So, the baby wasn’t James’s after all. Still too young, not nearly enough experience to stand her ground. I saved the voice recording on my phone and went over to the airport café to request footage from their security cameras. If I was going to fight back, I needed to do it right.

I made it to Switzerland and got in touch with one of the few friends I had left. “This hospice is really nice. It’s close to my house, and aside from being a bit pricey, it’s perfect.” Chloe Davis hadn’t changed one bit. “Anna, are you really not planning to return to New York?” Chloe didn’t understand my choice. Chloe had immigrated to escape her family’s burdens, but she still had a house in the city and had even bought a burial plot. She always said she couldn’t die abroad. I smiled, reaching out to ruffle her hair like I used to when we were kids. Still soft and fluffy. “You know there’s no one left in New York for me to see. Just like you, leaving was the only way to truly live.” “What about you and James…?” She trailed off, unsure how to continue. Chloe wasn’t stupid. She could easily piece together what had happened—when someone dying of a terminal illness chooses not to come home, it doesn’t take much to figure out why. “He cheated. His mistress is pregnant. I’m not even sure if it’s his, but they’ve been involved for months. I ran into her just before my flight.” I didn’t know how I managed to say these words out loud. Once, the idea of exposing my wounds terrified me. But now, I could say it with ease. “Anna, you stay here and rest. I’ve taken a long leave from work. I’ll be here with you.” Chloe pulled me into her arms. Had she started working out? Her embrace felt so strong, so warm.

I rested for two days, mostly because my body couldn’t handle much more than that. I had started eating less—more of what I put in was coming back out. I was relying on IVs to keep me alive. Meanwhile, I contacted a hacker and the private investigator back home. “What’s the latest update?” I asked the investigator I had hired after discovering James’s affair. “We’ve been following them closely. I’ve sent all the footage to your email. Oh, and there’s some drama—Miss Moore caused a scene at the Carson home, throwing a fit because of the pregnancy.” “Upload everything. All the evidence, especially the videos. Make sure it goes viral—buy trending spots, pay social media trolls, whatever it takes to keep it in the public eye for at least a week. Don’t worry about the cost. I’m dying; how much more can I really spend?” “Miss Stevens, there’s also an audio recording. Would you like to hear it?” The investigator’s normally casual tone had turned serious. “Send it to my email.” Curiosity won out in the end. I knew it wouldn’t be anything good, but I still wanted to listen.

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In the dead of night, I was jolted awake by the vibration of my phone, my body burning with fever. The voice on the other end was one I’d never forget – it was my daughter calling! But that was impossible. My daughter had died three years ago! Receiving a call from my daughter, I suddenly sat up in bed, my bare feet touching the cold floor. “Lily, is it really you? It’s Mom.” The phone crackled with static, but soon my daughter’s voice became clearer. “Mom, didn’t we just pay the electricity bill yesterday? Why is there suddenly a power outage? I’m so scared. Mom, where are you? Please come back quickly.” It was my daughter’s voice! There was no mistake! Wait a minute! A power outage? My heart suddenly contracted, and my breathing became rapid. Three years ago, on the day my daughter passed away, there was an unexplained power outage in our apartment building. My daughter was killed at home, waiting for me to return until her last breath. But I couldn’t go back because I was working overtime on a crucial project. I told her to use a flashlight and wait at home, and I called my husband to go back. Lily was only twelve, enjoying her perfect vacation. I had promised to take her to Disneyland, but all that awaited was her cold body. I pinched myself hard, feeling the pain distinctly. I didn’t know what was happening, and I couldn’t believe I was dreaming. I didn’t care who was on the other end of the phone, but I couldn’t let her get hurt. “Lily, lock the front door and hide in Mom’s bedroom. Get under the bed, cover yourself with the panel, and don’t open the door for anyone!” The master bedroom’s bed was custom-designed. The space underneath was hollow for easy cleaning, with a panel to cover it. From the outside, it looked like a solid bed touching the floor. I heard rustling sounds on the other end, and after a while, my daughter asked in a low voice, “Should I not open the door even if it’s you or Dad knocking?” I couldn’t take any chances. I had to nip any evil in the bud. “Dad and I have keys, Lily. Don’t worry. Mom will find a way to get back soon.” “Okay, Mom. I’ll wait for you to come back.” Lily told me the time on her end was ten minutes to 3 AM. I remembered that my daughter’s autopsy report showed her time of death as 3 AM. I instructed Lily not to speak and to dim her phone’s screen. I felt my forehead, which was burning like a small furnace. However, my palms and back were covered in cold sweat. I fumbled around the nightstand for fever and pain medication while thinking about how to resolve this crisis. If my daughter from three years ago could call me, could I also call myself from three years ago? But Lily’s smartwatch was set to only make calls and send text messages. If I hung up now and called back later, it would make a sound! Communicating via text would be too slow! So, I could only try to text my past self and my husband from three years ago, urging them to rush home and save our daughter. In the silent air, only the intermittent breathing of my daughter and me could be heard. One minute, two minutes… Ding! Incredibly, I received a reply! I received a text from myself to myself. And three consecutive SnapChat messages from my husband. [Our daughter died three years ago!] [What are you going crazy about now!?] [Don’t run around, stay at home. I’ll be back soon.] The SnapChat message alerts went “ding ding ding.” I felt my head throbbing, the pain intensifying. What should I do? I had no way to contact my husband and myself from three years ago. How could I save my daughter? In my anxiety, I accidentally knocked over the medicine bottle on the nightstand. Instinctively reaching to catch it, I bumped the water glass. The glass tumbler crashed to the floor, making a piercing sound. Shards scattered everywhere, water dripping from the edge of the nightstand. The back of my hand was cut by flying glass fragments. But I couldn’t even feel the pain. I quickly covered the phone’s microphone, praying that nothing had been heard on the other end. But it was too late! From the other end of the phone came a man’s sinister and triumphant laugh. “Hehe, I’ve found you!” My head buzzed as if hit by a bomb! “No! Please, spare Lily!” I shouted frantically into the phone. But what came next was a sound of despair. My daughter’s screams of agony, mixed with the man’s eerie, excited laughter. Then, abruptly, both laughters ceased. The phone emitted a devastating sound. “Bzz bzz bzz…”

I couldn’t control my screams, like a lion caught in a trap. I swept everything off the nightstand, and the warm yellow lamp flickered twice before going out. The entire bedroom plunged into endless darkness. Suddenly, there was a heavy pounding on the door behind me. “What are you doing!” My husband, Jack, was back. He turned on the light, and I felt like a drowning person, struggling in the cold embrace, waiting desperately for God to save me. Jack frowned, quickly running over to hug me. At that moment, I seemed to find my anchor, believing that my daughter and I would soon be saved. I told him everything that had just happened, but Jack gripped my shoulders and shook me. “Wake up! Lily is dead! Three years ago, someone broke in to rob us, and our daughter was killed!” “I know, but just now, it was clearly Lily calling me.” I stubbornly redialed the number, wanting to prove that everything I said was true. Although our daughter had passed away, I had kept her smartwatch. I secretly kept it charged and paid the phone bill. However, when I dialed, it showed the number was not in service! The exact same number, and the service hadn’t been disconnected, how could it be out of service? I burst into tears, my eyes red as I mumbled over and over. “How can this be, it’s impossible, how can this happen…” Jack held me tightly in his arms, gently patting my back, patiently comforting me. “I’m sorry, I lost control of my temper earlier and yelled at you. Look at you, your forehead is so hot, you must have had a nightmare just now.” Then, Jack helped me lie down on the bed and brought me medicine and water. “Be good, take the cold medicine and get some sleep.” For a moment, I couldn’t tell if I had really had a nightmare or not. But the panic in my heart hadn’t lessened a bit. Because in my impression, my husband wasn’t someone who would apologize to me on his own initiative. Everything felt strange, and my head was hurting badly. I didn’t dare to defy him at the moment, so I could only obediently do as he said. “You sleep first, I’m going to the study to organize some files I need for tomorrow.” Jack said, placing a kiss on my forehead before closing the door and leaving. I quickly spat out the medicine I had been holding under my tongue, wrapped it in a tissue, and threw it in the trash. After waiting a while, I heard no movement outside. I quietly opened the jewelry box and took out my daughter’s smartwatch. It had power and an active phone plan. The number was correct too. The first three digits were the same as mine, and the last eight digits were two sets of repeated four-digit numbers, which was also Lily’s birthday. I knew it by heart, how could I possibly remember it wrong? I quickly unlocked my phone, wanting to try again. However, I discovered there were over twenty missed calls! It was my daughter’s number! I hurriedly called back, my eyes fixed on the smartwatch in the jewelry box. The pink smartwatch remained in sleep mode. The call connected! From the other end came my daughter’s faint voice. Weak, but with a noticeable crying tone. “Mom, why didn’t you answer the phone, Mom save me, save me quickly…” Then came a series of dull thuds. Heavy, muffled impacts, the sound of a blunt object striking flesh. Tears streamed down my face as I couldn’t shake the horrific image of my daughter’s condition after death. Brutally beaten with a heavy object, literally bludgeoned to death. Skull fractured, neck twisted, spine broken, her adorable face a bloody mess… I quickly opened the door and went to find Jack in the study. However, the study light was on, the door open, but no one was there. A quick glance around showed that I was the only one in the entire house. I hadn’t taken the medicine, nor had I fallen asleep, so this definitely wasn’t a dream! This was all real, my daughter from another time was calling for help! What should I do, what on earth should I do! If my death could exchange for my daughter’s life, I would jump out the window without hesitation right now. Jumping from the 27th floor, I would surely die beyond any doubt. I bit my hand hard, not daring to scream out loud. However, the killer on the other end of the phone still discovered my presence. “Heh, this bitch is actually making a phone call!” This was an unfamiliar voice! It was a woman’s voice! A thought struck me, making me suddenly hold my breath, my heart skipping a beat. There were two people who killed my daughter! “I know who you are. If you let my daughter go, I won’t pursue this matter!” Of course, I didn’t know who the killer was. This was just a delaying tactic, hoping my daughter would suffer less torture. However, the call was disconnected. I only heard Lily cry out “Mom” once. I quickly redialed, and the whole situation took a new turn. I didn’t call Jack; at a time like this, he wouldn’t believe me. He would only think I was going crazy because I couldn’t accept our daughter’s death. I called my brother, and in the short ten seconds while waiting, a thousand thoughts raced through my mind. I didn’t tell my brother what had happened, but asked him for detailed information about my daughter’s death. My brother is a detective, and he was in charge of my daughter’s case back then. To avoid unnecessary trouble, I couldn’t tell him about the cross-time phone call from my daughter three years ago asking for help. On the other end of the phone, my brother was silent for a moment. Obviously, he hesitated. But soon, without asking me why, he sent me all the relevant information. After quickly scanning a few key points, I asked my brother how many killers there were. “One… wait, why does the file say two? I remember it was one.” My brother’s confusion excited me a bit. I ended the call, my eyes full of hope. We all remembered that the killer who murdered my daughter was one person. And the initial forensic report indicated that the killer was an adult male about 6 feet tall. But now, the file showed that there were two killers. A man and a woman, working together. This meant that the cross-time phone call between my daughter and me had changed the course of events. So, could I use these cross-time calls to completely change the outcome of this whole incident? Even if the hope was slim, for my daughter’s sake, I had to try!

Excitedly, I called my husband. I wanted to ask him if he still remembered how many people killed our daughter. He would surely be like my brother, remembering it as one person. But the file showed two people. Then, I could use this to prove that the cross-time call between my daughter and me was real. However, after five or six calls, no one answered. As I was hesitating, wondering if I should go to my brother first to discuss, the seventh call was finally answered. “Hello, who is this? Don’t you let people sleep in the middle of the night? Calling twice without an answer and still keep calling, are you brain-damaged or something!” I called my husband, but a woman answered! Judging by her voice, she sounded about thirty. I was stunned, anger enveloping me, but I knew now wasn’t the time to act rashly. Because the woman yelled impatiently again. “Which bitch is calling? So annoying, interrupting people making love.” With that, the call ended. I couldn’t sit still anymore. This woman’s voice was too familiar! Especially that phrase. Bitch! The voice was identical! This was clearly the woman from the call, one of the killers who murdered my daughter! My husband was actually with one of the killers!

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294605”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn #魔幻Magic #惊悚Thriller

Lucy and my husband’s first love were both diagnosed with cancer. As the surgery approached, my husband emptied our savings to pay for her treatment. Meanwhile, my daughter had to endure the pain without any help. He told me to be generous, reminding me that the living always take priority over the dead. But what he didn’t know was that his first love was faking it, and my daughter… she wasn’t coming back. “Mom, please don’t cry.” “Lulu doesn’t hurt, Lulu is fine.” Lucy’s pale face still managed to produce a smile, her little hand reaching up to wipe away the tears from my eyes. At the entrance of the operating room, filled with the stinging scent of antiseptics, Lucy’s arm was hooked up to several IV bags as she leaned weakly against me. “Be good, Lulu, Dad will be here any minute.” “We’ll get the surgery done soon, I promise.” Ding! My phone buzzed with a notification of a withdrawal. Lucy’s condition had suddenly deteriorated. Dr. Johnson had said the surgery couldn’t wait any longer; it had to be tonight. The surgery was expensive, and we didn’t have enough money. So I rushed Lucy to the hospital to get her registered, while Simon took my card to the bank to withdraw every penny we had. As Lucy’s clothes became soaked with cold sweat, Simon finally appeared on the hospital’s lobby monitor. I felt a surge of relief. The bank wasn’t that close to the hospital, and rush hour traffic was terrible. For Simon to make it back this quickly, I felt my eyes sting with tears. After all, he never seemed to care much for us. In situations like these, every second mattered; the sooner the surgery, the better Lucy’s chances of survival. Simon quickly finished paying and rushed toward the operating room, his face full of tension. “Daddy!” At the end of the hallway, Lucy’s eyes lit up with a brief glimmer of hope, her small hand trembling as she reached out for him. “Who’s scheduled for the surgery?” I held Lucy, ready to take the papers from Simon’s hand. Her little fingers barely touched his shirt when a gust of wind seemed to sweep him away. He walked right past us. “It’s her, doctor. It’s Becca.” Out of breath, he rushed to Rebecca Whitman. “Simon, it hurts…” Rebecca, nestled in his arms, bit her lip, her eyes welling up with tears, as delicate as an innocent little flower. Simon held her, murmuring reassurances, looking like he was in agony himself. I knew who she was—Simon’s first love. “Doctor, this must be a mistake. The surgery is for Lucy Ericson.” My heart skipped a beat, but I forced myself to speak as calmly as I could. The doctor checked the paperwork several times. “There’s no mistake, it’s for Rebecca Whitman.” From where Simon couldn’t see, Rebecca shot me a malicious glare. Her flushed cheeks made it clear she wasn’t suffering from any illness at all. With the surgery ready to begin, the doctor cleared the area. “Alright, only the patient and their family members should stay. Everyone else, please leave.”

I looked at Simon in disbelief, but he remained tense, avoiding eye contact with me the entire time. I placed Lucy on a chair and grabbed his arm. “What about the money? That was for Lucy’s surgery!” “Have you lost your mind?” Simon looked at me coldly, shaking off my hand. “I haven’t lost my mind. Becca has cancer, and the doctor said she needs surgery tonight.” “And what about our daughter?! If she doesn’t get surgery tonight, she’ll die!” I grabbed him again, shaking him desperately. Simon frowned, hesitating for a moment. “Julia Harris, stop making a scene!” “Even if you hate her, you shouldn’t curse your own daughter like that.” “We can earn more money, but Becca only has one life!” He pushed me harder this time, sending me stumbling to the ground. “You’ll regret this, Simon!” But all I was left with was the sight of his back, as cold as ice. My heart felt like it was drowning in bitterness. Tears streamed down my face, falling onto Lucy’s small cheeks. Her once-rosy face had become pale and gaunt from the sickness. “Lulu… I don’t think we can do the surgery today…” “Daddy doesn’t want us anymore.” “Mommy… Mommy…” My throat tightened, choking back sobs so much that I couldn’t even speak. “Mommy, don’t cry.” “Let’s just go home… I’m not in pain anymore.” Lucy, seeing my tear-filled eyes, tried to smile. That smile was worse than a cry. She was only five years old, too young to understand. But in that moment, I felt she understood everything. I held her close, her tiny frame so thin and fragile. I will never forget that night. “I’ll never leave you, Mommy.” “Lulu just wants Mommy to always be happy.” I can never forgive Simon. But I can’t forgive myself either.

Lucy is gone. The funeral hall was filled with sobs. The daughter I had carried for ten months and raised for five years was now just a small box. “How strange.” “Where’s her father? Why isn’t he here?” Some relatives whispered among themselves. My heart felt heavy and bitter as I took out my phone, dialing Simon’s number over and over again. But the only response was the cold sound of a machine. Finally, on the tenth try, he picked up. “What do you want, Julia?” Even though I couldn’t see him, I could hear the irritation in his hushed voice. “Simon, come see Lucy one last time…” My voice was hoarse, and he seemed surprised, but quickly returned to his usual self. Lucy had always wanted nothing more than her father’s love. So I begged him. I begged him to come to her funeral. Begged him to see her one last time. “What nonsense are you talking about?” “Stop causing trouble, Julia.” “Becca just had surgery and she needs someone with her.” “Once she’s out of the hospital, I’ll come spend time with you, okay?” His voice echoed in the room, leaving everyone in shocked silence. “Simon, please… I’m begging you… Come see Lucy.” “She’s being buried today…” I threw away all my pride and dignity, begging him on my knees. But he showed no mercy. “Julia Harris, how could you say such things about your own daughter?” I collapsed on the floor, sobbing so hard I nearly fainted. Then, I heard a soft voice: “Simon… it hurts…” Rebecca had woken up. The phone call ended with a click. Suddenly, I felt like the entire world was spinning. I faintly heard urgent voices calling out to me: “Help! Someone get help!” “Julia’s fainted!”

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My son was in a car accident on his way to school, and I watched him die slowly despite my pleas. I held the urn with his ashes in my hands, while my cheating husband finally expressed regret. I was tidying up the house as usual when I received a message that shattered me. “Ma’am, your son was in a car accident. Please come immediately!” “What?” I gasped. This morning, Alex suddenly insisted on taking Lucas to school. Lucas was thrilled. After all, Alex and I had been fighting for a week over Lucas’s school transfer. Before heading out, Lucas beamed with his innocent smile. “I love both Mommy and Daddy so much! It’s great that you’ve made up!” Little did I know that less than two hours later, Lucas would be involved in a terrible car accident. I rushed to the hospital, my mind racing as I kept calling the doctors for updates. “Your son is in critical condition. He keeps saying, ‘Mom, Dad, help me.’” I broke down in the back of the taxi, crying uncontrollably. My poor Lucas. At the hospital, I tried to enter, but Nurse Davis stopped me. “I’m sorry, ma’am. The patient’s condition has worsened. We’re trying everything we can.” I anxiously waited for the doctor’s words. Dr. Stephen informed me that a metal rod had pierced Lucas’s heart. The only way to save him was to find a heart donor or use an artificial heart. I was beside myself with grief, begging the doctor to save my son. “Sierra, your husband’s company specializes in artificial heart technology. Could you reach out to him?” Dr. Stephen suggested. That snapped me out of my fog. Alex’s company had recently developed a successful heart donor prototype, and their clinical trials had been highly successful. I immediately dialed Alex’s number. Once, twice, three times. “Hello, what… do you need?” The voice that answered was female, a familiar one. It was Jenny, Alex’s step-sister. I didn’t think much of it; she was just his step-sister, after all. “Judy, where’s Alex? I—” I started, but was cut off by the sounds on the other end of the line: the unmistakable slap of skin and moans from Judy. “Slow down… Alex, not so rough… ahh…” I heard Alex’s breathless voice. “I’m busy.” The call disconnected. It hit me then. Dr. Stephen rushed out again, asking, “Have you found a heart donor yet?” In my panic, I couldn’t think straight. I cried, offering up my own heart, but I knew it wasn’t possible. I was 30, and Lucas was only eight. My heart wouldn’t be suitable. I asked if there were any spare artificial hearts, but Dr. Stephen shook his head. “Your husband’s company controls the use of those. They need his approval, and he hasn’t signed off yet.” I kept calling Alex again and again, only to hear the automated response: “The number you are trying to reach is currently unavailable.” Desperately, I reached out to his company, but no one had the authority to activate the use of an artificial heart. Only Alex could make that call. Dr. Stephen informed me that we had only one hour left to save Lucas. If we couldn’t find a heart donor in time, my son would die. Then I remembered—Alex must still be with Jenny. I rushed over to her place. When I arrived, I was stunned to see them through the window. Alex and Jenny were in bed together, completely wrapped up in each other. Jenny, young, beautiful, and seductive, was everything I was not. Her soft skin glowed as Alex moved on top of her. I, on the other hand, had grown older, worn down by the endless chores and responsibilities of our household. Alex was cheating on me—with his own step-sister, Jenny. “Why don’t we go to your place? Isn’t it more thrilling to sneak around there?” Jenny moaned. “That old hag’s at home. It’s not convenient,” Alex replied, before they began again.

I was furious. I banged on the door with all my strength. It took them a moment to stop. When Alex finally opened the door, I didn’t care about their disgusting affair anymore. “Lucas is in critical condition, Alex. He needs the heart donor your company developed. Please, save our son!” I swallowed my disgust and begged him. Alex looked at me with disdain. “Sierra, stop joking around. I just dropped him off at school this morning. He couldn’t have left on his own. And even if he had, a heart like that is worth millions. You think it’s that easy to get?” Jenny wrapped her arms around Alex, looking so innocent. “Sierra, it’s true. Lucas wouldn’t have run off on his own. How could he have gotten into a car accident?” I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Didn’t the doctor call you?!” As Alex picked up his phone, Jenny gasped dramatically, clutching her ankle. “Ahh!” Alex immediately turned to her. “What’s wrong, Jenny?” Jenny put on a sad face. “Sierra pushed me for no reason, and now my ankle is bleeding.” Her tiny scratch wasn’t even bleeding. I hadn’t touched her. Alex turned to leave, but I grabbed his hand in desperation. “Please, Alex. I’m not lying! Lucas needs you. Dr. Stephen said he only has an hour left.” For a moment, he seemed moved, but Jenny cried out even louder. “Alex, it hurts so much. I don’t think I can walk!” “You’re too much, Sierra!” Alex snapped, scooping Jenny up in his arms and carrying her back into the bedroom. No matter how much I pleaded, he told me to leave. A moment later, I heard their voices again from behind the door. “Alex… do you believe her, or me?” “Oh, Jenny, I believe you. I don’t trust a word that old hag says.” They continued talking in the most vulgar way, completely indifferent to my feelings. Meanwhile, my son was lying on a cold hospital bed, waiting for his father to provide the artificial heart that could save his life! I was overwhelmed with disgust as I banged on the door and cried. For the first time, I hated Alex for his betrayal. Dr. Stephen called again. “I’m sorry…” he began, but I hung up before he could finish. I didn’t care about Alex and Jenny anymore. I raced back to the hospital. By the third hour, Lucas had died. There was no heart donor, and the artificial heart never came. I returned to Lucas’s bedside, but it was too late. He was gone. On TV, I watched news coverage celebrating Alex’s success in developing the artificial heart. Meanwhile, I had lost my son forever. I wept, then laughed through my tears. The final words Lucas said to me over the phone, his desperate cries for help, pounded in my head. How ironic. My husband, who had successfully developed an artificial heart, refused to use one to save his own son. Even more tragic, my son died while his father was busy cheating, enjoying his time in bed with his step-sister, Jenny. Suddenly, memories of our wedding day came back to me. Why had Alex always been so close to Jenny, even back then? I held my son’s lifeless body, rocking him to sleep as if he were just taking a nap. I told myself Lucas was only sleeping, refusing to believe he was truly gone. Until the nurses came and took his body away. “Ma’am, I understand your pain, but you can’t keep holding onto a body,” Nurse Davis gently said. I screamed in anguish, “He’s not dead! He’s just… he’s just asleep!” But I collapsed in exhaustion, my face soaked with tears. I cried until I had no more energy left, eventually passing out on the hospital floor. That day, I lost everything. I organized Lucas’s funeral by myself. No one else came; it was just me and my son. The only other people present were the cemetery workers. No friends, no family. I knelt at his grave, sobbing until my heart felt like it was shattered into a million pieces. Just the day before, Lucas had been laughing as he left home with Alex, and now, that was the last time I’d ever see him alive. The phone rang again. It was the police. “Mrs. Heiffman, after reviewing the incident, we’ve confirmed that your son ran out of the school on his own…” My voice cracked as I interrupted, “How could he have run out on his own?!” “Please, Mrs. Heiffman, try to remain calm. We have surveillance footage and witness testimony. You’ll want to see what they captured.” I stayed at Lucas’s grave, unwilling to move. The police finally arrived and handed me photos taken by witnesses on the day of the accident. My hands trembled as I took the pictures. One photo showed Lucas, my little boy, lying lifeless, pierced through the heart by multiple steel rods from the crash. The pain in my chest was unbearable. Then, one photo caught my eye. It showed Alex and Jenny in a car, kissing passionately. Alex’s hand was inside Jenny’s shirt, and they looked like they were making out. The officer explained, “Your son saw them in the car, and that’s why he ran out into the street. Witnesses confirmed that a couple was seen kissing and… engaging in other activities in the car.” I laughed bitterly, clutching the phone as I cried. They left, but my son was gone forever. How could Lucas have skipped school on his own? He was a well-behaved child, always obedient. But it all made sense now. Lucas saw Alex cheating with Jenny, and in his confusion and hurt, he ran after them, only to be struck by the car and impaled on the guardrails. I cried at his grave for three days straight. No food, no water, just endless tears. My son was dead. And with him, my heart had frozen over. Then, out of nowhere, Alex texted me. “Jenny’s birthday is coming up. Bring Lucas to the party.” I stared coldly at the message, my rage simmering. If Alex hadn’t cheated with Jenny, Lucas would still be alive today. Fueled by anger, I replied, “Alright.”

Alex and I met in college. I came from a modest background, while Alex was from a wealthy family. People said I was the ugly duckling that had turned into a swan by marrying him. Alex had always been charming, polite, and from a prestigious family. He excelled in his studies and was praised by professors. Everyone envied me, but they didn’t know the misery I lived through. His wealthy family constantly criticized me—my looks, my posture, my lack of class. They always compared me to their precious adopted daughter, Jenny. I endured all of it for my mother. She had cancer and needed expensive treatment, and only by marrying Alex could I afford to keep her alive. I put up with the humiliation and gradually became the perfect wife they wanted me to be. When Alex and I got married, Jenny had just turned eighteen. On the day of her birthday, I noticed that both Alex and Jenny were absent from the party. I overheard strange noises coming from the bathroom but brushed it off, assuming it was a couple caught up in the excitement of the night. But in retrospect, I realized it had been Alex and Jenny, sneaking off together. Soon after our wedding, I became pregnant with Simon. Simon was a bright, curious little boy. He was fascinated by Alex’s work at the medical research company and had a natural gift for learning. I was so happy that he had inherited Alex’s intelligence. Aside from Alex helping my mother recover, Simon’s birth was the one thing I was most grateful for. With Alex’s financial support, my mother was able to enjoy the last few years of her life. She smiled more, and her health improved until she passed away peacefully while I was pregnant. Alex had always been considerate of me during my pregnancy, staying up late to comfort me and even standing up to his parents when they criticized me. For a time, I thought I had fallen deeply in love with this man who treated me so tenderly. But once Simon was born, everything changed. Alex began staying out all night, and he rarely came home. I can’t even count how many times Alex missed Simon’s birthdays, how many excuses he made, or how many times we fought over his absences. Simon would celebrate his birthday with just me every year, while Alex was out sleeping with other women. I knew about the affairs, but for Simon’s sake, I chose to turn a blind eye. However, Alex didn’t even bother to hide his relationship with Jenny in front of Simon. That morning, when Alex insisted on taking Simon to school, I thought it was a sign of compromise, a gesture of reconciliation. But it turned out to be the key to uncovering Alex’s affair with Jenny. I had swallowed my pride and endured everything for my mother and for Simon. But now, I had nothing left. I arrived at Alex’s parents’ house, seething with anger.

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The day my grad school entrance exam was over, Emily dragged me out to the Foxhole Pub for a night out. The next morning, I woke up to find that the 6’1″ guy I slept with was actually the librarian at NYU! At first, I thought I’d hit the jackpot with a hot guy. But later, when he pinned me to the bed and rasped, “Rachel, be good… one more time,” I realized this man had planned it all along. The day my grad school entrance exam ended, Emily practically dragged me out to the Foxhole Pub. After 168 days of suffering through test prep, I put on the most daring mini-skirt I owned. Paired with my killer curves and my innocent face, the contrast was irresistible. Heh, the guys at the bar won’t know what hit them! It was my first time drinking, and to be honest, the taste was worse than I imagined—like horse piss. I thought I could handle at least three drinks, but one shot in, I couldn’t even tell which way was up. Emily and the other girls had gone off to flirt with some younger guys, leaving me at the bar. A guy at the next table bought me a drink. Not knowing the bar etiquette, I sipped a little, and he smiled and left. Whatever—I had to pee! While washing my hands, a ridiculously handsome guy walked in. I stared at him in the mirror, wide-eyed. Oh my god, he’s gorgeous! My love-at-first-sight radar was going off the charts. He glanced at me, surprised, as he was about to dry his hands. And then… I somehow ended up throwing myself at him, completely wasted. He probably had a cleanliness issue because he tried to push me off. But I clung to him like a koala—no way I was letting go of this hot, clean-cut guy! He looked at me with a resigned expression and asked, “What are you doing here?” I grinned and said, “Haha, just looking for a guy with an eight-pack who knows how to handle things.” I couldn’t help but run my fingers along his smooth, perfect skin. It was so soft—I was in love. Heh heh… This guy smelled so good… But suddenly, I felt like I was going to throw up. I hadn’t realized that one drink could hit me so hard. And then… yep, I vomited. All over his pristine white shirt. Without a word, he took me back to his place. The second we got in, he threw me on the couch and went to shower and change. Still dazed and overheated, I stripped off some clothes and followed him into the bathroom. When he saw me coming, wrapped in a towel, he jumped. “Don’t come any closer.” I was already eyeing his abs. Damn, that body was to die for. In real life, I’m usually the good girl, but drunk-me had no problem getting handsy. Mmm, hard and smooth. His body felt amazing, cool to the touch, which made me cling to him even more, like I was on fire. Realizing something was off, he cursed under his breath, picked me up, and laid me on the bed. He headed to the closet, probably to find clothes and take me to the hospital. I held onto the bed for support, slowly crawling toward him. The heat in the room was unbearable, and my skin felt parched, like I was about to crack open. Even with my eyes closed, I could navigate my way behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I was so thirsty, my lips parched, my face burning. I leaned in, searching for his lips like they were my only source of water. He turned to avoid me. “Stop messing around. Let me get dressed so I can take you to the hospital.” I whimpered in his arms. To his ears, it probably sounded like a seductive, ghostly moan. 0

He opened a bottle of water and tried to pour it into my mouth, but I fidgeted like a child, spilling it everywhere. Water ran down my chin, neck, and soaked into my white tank top, making it cling to my chest. His temple pulsed as he gritted his teeth, clamping my mouth shut and forcing more water in. I sputtered, coughing and tearing up, a pitiful sight. Taking a deep breath, he carried me to the bed, tucked me under the covers, and went to get a cold towel. I kicked the blanket off, my body writhing restlessly. My pillow was soaked with tears as my chest began to itch. It started with a few stings, like bees biting here and there, striking all the sensitive spots—painful and itchy at the same time. But soon, the discomfort became unbearable, like a person wandering through the desert, desperate for water. In a daze, I yanked off my tank top, fumbling to unhook my bra. A hand grabbed my wrist and said, “No.” I was both frustrated and uncomfortable, blinking up at him through teary eyes. “I feel so bad…” I stared at him seriously, tugging at his clothes like a lost child pleading for candy. “Help me, please?” I could only repeat that one sentence over and over, clinging to him as if he were my lifeline. This man, Finn, was getting the full experience of what it meant to be in an overwhelming situation. He pulled me into his arms again, trying to peel me off. “You idiot, you’ve been drugged.” I could barely make out his frustrated yet helpless voice, tinged with concern. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” The word “hospital” faintly registered, but my foggy brain couldn’t comprehend it. Take me? Where? I wasn’t going anywhere. Was he really a male escort who only catered to rich women? He kept trying to pull me off, but I kept climbing back onto him. The room, now in the dead of night, was filled with an odd tension. His breathing grew heavier as I clung to him. Tears welled in my eyes as I wrapped my arms around his neck, crying, “Kiss me… please?” He was still trying to pry me off, but his ragged breath betrayed him. With a reckless move, I yanked off the towel he’d barely managed to wrap around himself. I pressed closer, kissing his jaw. He tried to hold back, but my hot breath on his face made him falter. Thinking he was just holding out for money, I mumbled, “Please, help me… I can pay you.” With a sigh, I let out a stupid line, “You’ve already gotten my first kiss, what’s with the hesitation?” Finn’s brows furrowed, his forehead slick with a thin sheen of sweat. “What are you talking about?” He looked shocked, as if he couldn’t believe what I’d just said. The pressure from below was becoming unbearable. I didn’t stop—my lack of experience didn’t matter anymore. I kept kissing him. He finally gave in, his control snapping as he turned from resisting to taking the lead, pushing me down onto the bed. Even in the heat of the moment, he held back, asking, “Are you sure? No regrets?” I couldn’t stand it any longer. I pulled his hesitant lips down to mine and silenced him. 0

That night felt endless. By morning, my entire body was sore, like I’d been hit by a truck and shattered into pieces. I never expected this supposed male escort to be so skilled. He hadn’t stopped all night, murmuring, “Good girl,” while kissing me softly. When my cries became too much, he’d say “I’m sorry” before plunging deeper, each time wilder than the last. Eventually, I passed out. Honestly, I’d never felt better in my life! Totally worth it! Especially hearing someone so reserved and clean-cut say such… things. Hehe, I scored big time! I grinned as I turned to look at him. And then I froze, my expression twisting into shock. Holy crap! “Finn?!” I was so stunned that I yelled his name. This… this… wasn’t he the librarian from the second floor of the NYU library? The one who just started this semester?? Oh my god, I had slept with the librarian. Panic exploded in my mind like a thousand firecrackers. Girls, is it too late to play dead? I want to cry. So… Our school librarian is a male escort? Hahaha, this is the juiciest gossip ever! If I posted this on the university’s confession page, all the fangirls would lose it knowing their beloved librarian is a gigolo! I was still giggling to myself when I noticed Finn staring at me with a look that clearly said, “Where’s my money?” Wait… does he seriously not care that I’ve figured out his secret? Isn’t he embarrassed? How can he just openly ask a student for money like this? My hands were shaking as I opened my banking app, staring at my balance of 512 bucks. I transferred him 500. Our last chat was still from the time I messaged him, “You done for the day?” Back then, I’d been studying for the exam, trying to hide my books in the library shelves. I didn’t want them confiscated, so I shamelessly added him on social media, mostly because he was pale, quiet, and a bit shy, with just the right amount of cockiness—like a heartthrob straight out of a college drama. He hit all my weak spots. Since then, I’d used my sweetest smile to make myself unforgettable. I’d always be the last to leave the library, flash him a grin when hiding my books, and sit in spots where we could make eye contact. That way, I’d managed to snag his social media handle. But this guy? He was ice-cold. After we exchanged one awkward message, he never replied. Under his confused gaze, I hurriedly pulled on my clothes, ready to bolt. But before I could escape, his long fingers closed around my wrist. He stared at me, disappointed. “You’re really just going to leave?” I thought he was upset about the amount of money I’d sent. “I-I-I’m a broke student, okay? That’s all the money I have! Thank you, sir, for your excellent service! Wishing you continued success in business. I’ll be off now!” I tried to peel his hand away as I backed toward the door, barefoot. Finn stretched out his hand, pulling the blanket over me and rolling me back into his arms. “You—you—you… what are you doing? Aren’t you supposed to be a gentleman?” I tried to push against his chest, which, by the way, felt amazing. He leaned down, smirking. “What do you think?” Before I could catch my breath, he kissed me again. Desperately, I tried to protest. “I-I-I don’t have any more money!” After a couple of intense minutes, he pulled back just enough to chuckle. “Buy one, get one free.” That left me speechless. This guy was good—too good. I couldn’t complain. 0

When I woke up again, it was already noon, and my stomach was growling. Finn wasn’t in bed, but I could hear the shower running. If I was going to sneak out, this was my moment. I quickly threw on my clothes and made a dash for the door. After finishing my exams, I still had two final projects to complete, and my professor had been nagging me to choose my thesis topic. I couldn’t risk running into Finn again—too awkward. I switched my usual library spot to room 202, but I still couldn’t focus on studying. Then one day, while I was grabbing water, I ran into him again. As he walked by, I blushed furiously, wondering what to say. But he just passed me without so much as a glance. Seriously? Pretending we don’t know each other? I fumed silently. For several days, we acted like strangers at the library. It was exactly what I wanted, yet somehow, it bothered me. Then, on New Year’s Day, I was eating alone at a bistro when a cute guy, Jake, came over and asked to join me. He had big, bright eyes, and honestly, I was a little envious of his double eyelids. Feeling playful after finally finishing my exams, I decided to give this junior a chance. But fate has a twisted sense of humor—Finn happened to be sitting across the restaurant and witnessed the whole thing. I saw his face darken as he marched over and sat directly across from me, uninvited. It felt like I’d been caught cheating. Wait—cheating? Why would I feel like that? He’s just a male escort I hired! “He’s too young for you,” Finn commented casually as he ate his meal, clearly confident he was in control. “Hmph, younger guys are fun. Full of energy, and you can touch their abs,” I teased, smirking. I glanced up to see his expression darken even further. “Tonight. Movie. You’re coming.” It wasn’t an invitation—it was a command. Hmph, who does he think he is? Acting like a stranger for days, and now he orders me around? No way am I going! And yet… that evening, there I was, perfectly dressed, standing outside the movie theater. Why? Because this man knew me too well! He took me to see I Miss You. And seriously, who can resist a hot guy who’s that thoughtful? “You, a grown man, know about I Miss You?” I teased. I wouldn’t have expected someone as stoic as him to watch a romantic drama. “You don’t want to see it?” What?! I hadn’t even posted on social media that I wanted to see this movie, except for one TikTok where I’d mentioned, “Would love to watch I Miss You, but my friends don’t want to risk getting COVID.” And somehow, he’d found that! Oh no, has he seen all my silly TikTok videos? Save me! Did he catch me leaving comments on his Instagram too? That would be mortifying. By the time the movie ended, it was already 10 PM, and I seriously suspected that Finn had intentionally made sure I couldn’t get back to the dorm. He took me back to his place instead. The moment we stepped inside, without even bothering to take off his shoes, Finn started kissing me, hungrily, like a starved animal. In no time, I was breathless, my heart pounding like crazy. “Breathe, idiot,” he rasped, giving me a moment to catch my breath before diving in again, as if he couldn’t get enough. By the time I could think clearly, he had already pinned me down on the bed, his hands exploring my body with expert precision. I had to admit, the man had skills. No wonder I thought he was an escort.

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My mom married a wealthy man, and as her tagalong, I got dragged into the world of luxury. Life in the mansion was perfect in every way—except for my cold, handsome stepbrother, who clearly couldn’t stand me. The way he looked at me was becoming more and more unsettling. Then one night, he came home drunk, and I ended up screaming myself hoarse, forced to call him “husband” the entire night. “Awake?” Peter Jude didn’t even bother knocking as he barged in, bold as ever. He casually sat on the edge of the bed, holding a tube of ointment in his hand. I instinctively backed away, but the wall was right behind me. His eyes flashed with a hint of displeasure, and his imposing figure loomed even closer. I awkwardly muttered, “Brother…” In my mind, I was desperately trying to come up with excuses for him. Maybe he had forgotten what happened last night after he sobered up. That must be why he was acting so calm. He frowned slightly. “No need to sound so distant.” Distant? Calling him “brother” still felt too formal? I had a sinking feeling, and the events that followed only confirmed my worst fears. Without any warning, he yanked the covers off me. I barely had time to put anything on! “Ah!” I gasped, but he just looked at me with feigned surprise. He squeezed some ointment from the tube and, without hesitation, his large hand began searching for a spot to apply it. “Mm…” My body melted like water as his touch invaded me. My eyes misted over, and I tried to muster the strength to resist. But then he coldly warned me. “This spot is delicate. I don’t want it getting hurt again. Unless you think you’ve recovered, we can always continue.” Continue? Continue what?! Peter, who was usually so cold and restrained, had become insatiable! The invader continued to ravage my secret base, determined to poison every last inch. To ensure thorough coverage, he ventured deeper and repeated the process again and again. I was panting heavily, unable to stifle the moans that escaped my lips. Through the corner of my eye, I saw the faint amusement in his gaze. Embarrassed, I grabbed a pillow and covered my face, wishing I could just disappear. At that moment, the phone on the bedside table suddenly rang. With sharp reflexes, Peter picked it up before I could. When he saw it was my mom calling, he answered without hesitation. I glared at him, furious. But the invader at my secret base hadn’t left. Even though the poison had been spread evenly, he lingered at the gates, idly toying with the door handle. “Alice, your stepdad and I are out shopping in Paris. There are so many fun things here. Is there anything you’d like?” I didn’t really want anything. All I wanted was for Mom to get what she wanted—being happy with her new husband. The invader suddenly twisted the handle harder, and I couldn’t help but let out a stifled moan. “Mm… anything’s fine.” Mom sighed in frustration. “Don’t say ‘anything’s fine’ every time.” “Uh… mm… ah!” The invader finally withdrew, only to reenter, this time clad in a different kind of armor. His soft hair brushed against my thighs, and the smooth armor scraped against every surface of the base, leaving me utterly defenseless. With Mom’s confused “What’s going on?” echoing through the phone, I hastily hung up. I didn’t even have the strength to hold the phone anymore; it slipped from my grasp onto the pillow. After finishing, Peter casually stood up, turning on the tap as if nothing had happened. He looked at me with dark, gleaming eyes, licking his lips. Just like when he overheard me talking to my ex-boyfriend yesterday. “Why don’t you tell your mom about us?” he asked. Tell her? How could I? What was I supposed to say? That I was having a forbidden romance with my wealthy stepbrother? My mind was still foggy, and I could only mumble, “I won’t tell.” “And what does that make me?” I hesitated, searching for an answer. “…My brother?” He nodded, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. “Well then, congratulations. You’ve got a brother who can screw you.” I barely had time to process what he said before everything went black. After turning on the faucet, Peter Jude finally stood up, looking at me with a glint in his eyes. He licked his lips, his gaze heavy, just like when he overheard me on the phone with my ex-boyfriend, Chris, the other day. “Why didn’t you tell your mom about us?” How could I say anything? What would I even tell her? That I was caught in some forbidden romance with my stepbrother in this rich family? My mind was still hazy, and I mumbled, “I won’t say anything.” “Then what does that make me?” he asked. I hesitated, trying to find the right words. “…My brother?” He gave a slight nod and stood up, calmly unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time. “Well then, congratulations—you’ve got yourself a brother who’s willing to go all the way with you.” I slowly formed a question in my mind, but I didn’t have the chance to finish it.

Peter Jude wasn’t one for empty promises. He did exactly what he said he would. Sweat dripped from his temples onto my collarbone, searing my skin. I squeezed my eyes shut, too embarrassed to look at the reflection in the mirror. He purposefully blew into my ear, making my eyelashes flutter. The sight of our bodies moving together in the mirror made my face flush a deep crimson. To him, my feeble attempts to struggle were just part of the fun. He pressed me against the cold mirror, whispering things that made my face burn with shame, forcing me to call him “husband” over and over. It didn’t matter how much I begged; there was no escape. By the time it ended, I was so exhausted I couldn’t even lift a finger. The ointment he applied had been washed away entirely. And that was just the beginning. He made sure I couldn’t leave the mansion; no matter what time it was, I found myself trapped in this endless cycle of desire. It was impossible to tell that Peter was supposed to be running a company, considering how often I was pulled from the bed, only to end up back in it moments later. And it wasn’t always the bed. He said he was helping me get familiar with the mansion, taking me from the bathroom, to the study, to the home theater, and even… the lawn. Each place bore witness to our time together, and I quickly became more than familiar with my new home. After another break, I received a message from Mom saying she and Mr. Harris would be home soon. I almost cried with joy. It was true—I’d had feelings for Peter since we first met, but I thought it would be something pure. What he did, though, was far from it. And it wasn’t just once—it was a full week of things I couldn’t even talk about. I felt like even if I made it to Mexico now, no one would want these broken kidneys of mine. “You seem distracted,” Peter murmured, his lips crashing against mine before I could reply. When I finally managed to catch my breath, I blurted out, “Mom and Mr. Harris are coming back.” He stopped and casually said, “So what?” “This isn’t right,” I said, trying to calm my breathing and the blush spreading across my face. “We can’t let them find out. Let’s just end this, and I’ll pretend nothing happened.” “Why?” Peter’s expression darkened, and his eyes flashed with anger as he harshly smeared more ointment onto me. “You clearly enjoyed it.” I winced, knowing deep down he wasn’t wrong. My phone had been in my hand the whole time. If I had wanted to stop or tell someone, that week of chaos never would have happened. “I don’t want anyone to know what happened after I entered this wealthy life. Plus, Mom’s about to marry Mr. Harris. No one can know about us.” Those were both true reasons, especially the latter. Mom raised me alone, and I knew she genuinely loved Mr. Harris—it wasn’t just about the money. Peter would never marry me, and even if he tried, it would ruin Mom’s chance at happiness with Mr. Harris. And, truthfully, I had feelings for Peter, my so-called stepbrother. That’s why I let everything happen. Peter licked his fingers. Just as I thought he was about to punish me, he smirked and said, “Fine, I wouldn’t want to ruin Mom’s marriage plans.” He stormed out, looking uncharacteristically childish for someone usually so cold and composed. I curled up, hugging my knees, feeling the room grow emptier with each passing second. If only Peter wasn’t Peter. If only I wasn’t Alice. Wouldn’t that be better?

After that, Peter Jude went back to his normal self—or at least, it appeared that way. His face was cold as usual, and he was busy with work, darting from one thing to the next. He even stopped coming home to the mansion for a while. That was until my mom and stepdad returned. They came back with a haul of expensive gifts, looking travel-worn and tired. Mom, in particular, seemed exhausted. Mr. Harris, on the other hand, was in a great mood, happily chatting and even calling Peter back to join us. When Peter arrived, he sat down next to me on the couch, closer than necessary. I instinctively tried to move away, but then I heard Mom say, “I’m glad to see you two getting along so well. That really puts me at ease.” I froze in place, forced to sit there beside Peter while Mr. Harris talked enthusiastically about their trip. His stories dragged on, and as he went on, something in me started to feel wrong. It was like an ant crawling under my skin, making its way deeper, causing my entire body to tense up. I glanced over at Peter and saw my flushed reflection in his eyes. He leaned in, whispering so only I could hear, “You don’t want Nancy to know just how close we’ve gotten, do you?” He was right. We had gotten too close. I squirmed uncomfortably, trying to keep my composure while Mr. Harris continued talking endlessly. Another metaphorical ant joined the first, tormenting me further as they burrowed deeper. My mind raced as I wished I hadn’t worn a skirt today. By the time Mr. Harris had finally stopped, I wasn’t sure how I’d managed to endure it all, biting down hard on my lower lip to keep myself from losing it. When I came back to my senses, the living room had emptied, leaving only Peter and me. Peter looked far too pleased with himself. I quickly stood up, my legs weak and unsteady. As I did, I noticed the mark we had left on the couch, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground. “Peter Jude!” I snapped. “Where are your manners?” he said coolly, adjusting his tie with the calm precision of a predator who had just cornered its prey. “Why aren’t you calling me ‘brother’ anymore?” I glared at him. “We agreed we’d leave each other alone after this.” His expression grew darker. “I don’t think my dear sister understands one thing. I will keep violating you, and what can you do about it?” He emphasized the word violate with a chilling intensity, stepping closer to me with the intimacy of a lover. “For so many years, countless women have tried to climb their way into this family. Do you know why my father is still single? What chance does your mom really have?” I continued backing away, like a cornered animal with no escape. “What do you want from me?” I asked, my voice trembling. He stopped, finally halting his approach. “Be my plaything, and I’ll convince my father to accept your mom.” At that moment, I fully understood the weight of power and control that came from someone who’d held the upper hand for so long. He wasn’t looking at me with love—just pure, unfiltered desire and the certainty that he would have whatever he wanted. I had been wrong. I thought, at the very least, he had some feelings for me. But now, I realized it was just lust, nothing more. Peter didn’t wait for my response. Instead, he turned his gaze past me and smiled, his expression suddenly softening. “Hello, Nancy.” Startled, I spun around. My mom was walking down the stairs, her face lighting up as she saw Peter. She seemed genuinely happy that he had greeted her and started chatting with him warmly. I knew then that there was no need for any more words. That night, I anticipated something would happen, but I was still caught off guard when my door was unlocked and opened. —Mom’s room was right next to mine. “Are you crazy?” I asked coldly. Peter’s face remained calm, his voice steady. “No choice. If the mountain won’t come to me, I’ll go to the mountain.” He smirked at me, standing there in my nightgown, and tossed something onto the bed.

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After I lost my memory, I became my husband’s dream girl. On graduation day, I mustered up the courage to confess my feelings to my crush, but I accidentally got hit by a car. When I woke up, my crush was standing in front of me, looking at me coldly. “You’re awake? Good, let’s discuss our divorce agreement.” Me: ??? I hadn’t even confessed yet, how did we end up talking about divorce? On graduation day, I finally gathered the courage to confess to James, my long-time crush. On the other side of the street, James was taking photos in his handsome graduation gown. I excitedly ran over, not noticing that the pedestrian crossing light had turned red. With a loud “bang”, I was hit by a car and lost consciousness. When I opened my eyes again, I saw a white ceiling. To my surprise, I found James sitting beside my hospital bed. He was as handsome as ever. This must be the first time we’ve been this close. James stood by my bed, his gaze slowly moving from the IV drip to my face. My eyes inadvertently caught sight of a ring on the ring finger of his left hand. I had liked him for so long, but it turns out he was already taken. Suppressing the heartache, I forced a smile and greeted him, “James, why are you here?” As I tried to sit up, I noticed my arm was wrapped in thick bandages. The next second, James sat down on the chair beside my bed, his voice cold and distant. “You’re really good at using tactics. To get a divorce, you’re even willing to risk your life.” I stared at James’s face, completely confused by his words. What did he mean? Divorce? I hadn’t even graduated yet, let alone gotten married. Where did this talk of divorce come from? At that moment, a nurse entered the room, carrying a tray with wound dressing supplies. “Dr. Evans, you’re still here? Miss, you don’t know how lucky you are. When you had the accident, Dr. Evans happened to be passing by and gave you emergency treatment immediately. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten away with just a broken arm.” The nurse spoke while carefully disinfecting my wound. As she gently placed my hand down, I noticed that I was also wearing a ring on my right ring finger! And this ring was clearly a matching couple’s ring with James’s! Panic and disbelief gradually filled my eyes. After the nurse left the room, I immediately grabbed James’s sleeve. “James, your name is James Evans, right? You graduated from Oxford University in 2018, correct?” James frowned, looking extremely annoyed. He shook off my hand on his sleeve and looked at me coldly. “Since you’re awake, let’s discuss the divorce agreement.”

This was completely absurd! I clearly remember being on my way to the graduation ceremony when I accidentally got hit by a car. How did I wake up to find myself “threatening suicide” to divorce James? I was absolutely certain that either I had gone crazy, or James had. “James, wait a minute!” Before I could finish speaking, a little boy suddenly appeared in the hospital room, running affectionately into James’s arms. Me: ??? Wow, what an adorable child! I reached out with my uninjured hand, wanting to pinch his chubby cheeks, but he suddenly seemed scared and hid in James’s arms. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. Auntie just thought you were too cute and couldn’t help herself.” James looked at me with some dissatisfaction. It was then that I remembered I had called him to wait but hadn’t said anything important yet. “James, although this might sound unbelievable, I have no memory of anything you’re talking about. I only remember being on my way to the graduation ceremony…” Before I could finish, James impatiently interrupted me. “So, are you trying to say that you’ve lost your memory now?” Memory loss? Yes, that’s right. Memory loss is the only explanation for why I have no recollection of any of this. I nodded vigorously and sincerely. James’s ice-cold face looked at me as he took out a document from his bag and threw it in front of me. “This is the divorce agreement. All the terms are written according to your requests. If you have no objections, just sign it quickly.” I opened my mouth but couldn’t say anything. The little boy in James’s arms heard him mention divorce and pouted, looking upset. “James, talking about this topic in front of someone else’s child might not be good for their mental health.” “Why don’t we put this matter aside for now and discuss it later?” James snorted coldly. “Someone else’s child? Chloe, you’re really playing this amnesia act well. This is our child.” … “And when you were having dinner with another man, did you think about whether it was good for the child’s mental health?” I hadn’t even processed what James said in the first sentence when the second sentence left me completely blank. I looked at the little boy in disbelief. So not only am I married, but I also have a child? Unfortunately, the little boy didn’t pay any attention to me, burying his head in James’s neck without even giving me a glance. Too much information, not enough processing power. My brain successfully crashed.

It took me a whole day to sort out the situation in my head. It seems I really have lost my memory. I’m still me, and James is still James. The only difference is that we’re married now, and we have a baby. But the divorce agreement on the hospital bed silently conveyed another piece of information: our marriage was clearly in trouble. The problem is, did I have an affair? No, but is that even possible? Would I cheat on someone like James, who has both looks and brains, with another man? Did I lose my mind? So, where exactly did the problem occur? How can I get my memory back? I scratched my head in frustration, my mind completely blank, feeling extremely anxious and uneasy. “Mommy.” There was a knock on the door. I looked up and saw the door open slightly, revealing the cute face of the little boy peeking in shyly. “Daddy said to remember to disinfect your hand. Here’s the disinfectant for you to use.” His small hands were tightly gripping a bottle of iodine. I reached out to him, gesturing for him to come in. “Mommy’s hand hurts a little. Can you bring it over for me?” The boy looked at me, his expression hesitant and uncertain, but he finally nodded and ran to my side, placing the iodine on my bedside table. I picked him up with my other hand and sat him on my lap. I carefully examined his features. His eyes were like mine, round and big and bright. His nose was like James’s, very high and straight. His face was like James’s, a perfect oval shape, very handsome. This is my son with James. I couldn’t help myself and hugged him tightly, then planted a big kiss on his cheek. The boy smelled like milk, and I simply couldn’t let go. When I looked up, I saw the boy’s face had turned bright red. He stiffened in my arms for two seconds, then wrapped his little arms around my neck and hugged me back tightly. He rested on my shoulder and whispered in my ear, “Mommy, you smell nice.” This is simply the cutest thing in the world! I was basking in the joy of being complimented by my baby when the door opened. James’s familiar figure appeared at the doorway, walking towards us. “Daddy!” The boy in my arms immediately ran to James, stretching out his arms waiting for James to pick him up. James had clearly just taken a shower, wearing casual home clothes that made him look sexy and relaxed. His hair fell naturally on his forehead, with some water droplets sliding down his neck into his collar. I swallowed hard. Male beauty is truly tempting. As he got closer to me, my heart started beating more intensely. However, when James spoke, he instantly extinguished my excitement. “Miss Chloe, don’t you think it’s a bit late to start being nice to Coco now?” “I didn’t, I…” I wanted to explain, but as soon as I saw James’s cold expression, I knew he wouldn’t believe anything I said. In the end, I chose to remain silent. “Forget it, you carry on. I’m leaving.” I walked out of the study. Coco peeked out from James’s neck and glanced at me. Seeing how close he was with James, my heart filled with a sour feeling. What’s the point of having a husband and child if my husband doesn’t love me and wants a divorce, and even the child is closer to his father? I started to overthink. If that’s the case, why did we choose to get married in the first place, and why did we have a child? Outside on the balcony, a full moon hung high in the sky. The night breeze blew in, completely messing up my emotions. Nothing has changed. It seems only I have changed.

There was only one large bed in the master bedroom. The entire room was decorated in the most monotonous black, white, and gray color scheme. Apart from that, the room was kept very clean, with a faint scent of gardenia constantly wafting into my nose. I remembered, this was the scent I liked. I walked to the closet, wanting to find one of my pajamas, but all I saw was a sea of black. And they were all men’s clothes. … With no other choice, I had to knock on the study door. “James… honey, I’m sorry to bother you.” I spoke with utmost respect. James, who was working at his computer, looked up when he heard the sound. The gold-rimmed glasses on his nose bridge made him look so alluring yet unapproachable. “Do you… know where my pajamas are? I just looked in the master bedroom closet but couldn’t find them.” James stared at me for a few seconds without speaking. Just as I thought he wasn’t going to answer and was about to leave, he suddenly stood up from his chair and walked towards me. He stood straight in front of me. At 6’1″, he towered over my 5’5″ frame, making me look small and delicate. James smirked, hands in his pockets. “What, planning to play the amnesia card till the end?” I swallowed hard, not knowing what to say. The problem is, you wouldn’t believe me even if I told the truth. Fortunately, he didn’t give me a hard time this time. He stepped past me and walked towards the other side. I stood there, not knowing what to do. He turned his head and glanced at me. “Aren’t you coming?” I immediately ran after him like an obedient puppy, keeping a respectful distance. “Thank you.” Two minutes later, when I happily opened the closet door to get my pajamas, I slammed it shut the next second. My face turned bright red. It was simply too embarrassing to look at!! “Is this…” I didn’t finish my sentence, sure that James understood. Because he was now leaning against the door frame, arms crossed, silently watching me. His eyes were silently telling me, “Keep acting, I’ll just watch without saying anything.” … I took a deep breath and slowly opened the closet door again. The style of clothes inside was so revealing that I could hardly believe it. They were all the kind of skimpy outfits that nightclub girls would wear, barely covering anything. After graduation… no, after marriage, did my dressing style become this flamboyant and sexy? The annoying thing was, James just stood there, showing no intention of leaving. I could only try my best to ignore his gaze. With my back to him, I rummaged through the clothes from top to bottom, but couldn’t find a single “normal” piece of clothing. … I sighed inwardly, turned around, and not knowing what I was thinking at that moment, I asked James: “Honey, which… which one do you like to see me wear?” Then, I clearly saw James’s eyes gradually darken. He snorted coldly and turned to leave. He slammed the door shut so hard it startled me. Why did he get angry? Sigh, they say a woman’s heart is like a needle at the bottom of the sea, but a man’s heart is even harder to fathom. Taking the pajamas to the bathroom, a thought suddenly crossed my mind. Could the reason for our divorce be that our sex life wasn’t satisfying? After showering, I put on a robe and went to Coco’s nursery. The nursery was decorated very warmly. It was evident that James cared a lot about the child and put a lot of effort into it. I tiptoed over. He was already in a sweet dream, hugging a stuffed toy. I gently covered him with the little blanket he had kicked off and carefully removed his thumb from his mouth, wiping it with a napkin. It wasn’t until this moment that I truly felt the closeness of being a mother. But I only knew his name was Coco, I didn’t even know how old he was. I looked at James’s and my marriage certificate. The date was four years ago. So Coco should be around three years old. I stroked his head, then got up to leave his room. Just as I closed the door and turned around, I saw the man standing in front of me. Our distance was so close that if I raised my head, I could touch his chin. My back was pressed tightly against the door, but James seemed unaware, showing no intention of stepping back to maintain some distance. My heart was beating fast, so dramatically that I felt it might jump to my throat the next second. “Are you done?” “Mm-hmm.” The atmosphere was a bit awkward. I didn’t know what to say for a moment. “So… ready for bed?” James didn’t respond, nor did he make any movement. I pulled my robe tighter, trying not to let him see the overly revealing pajamas I was wearing underneath. “I’ll go to bed first then.” With that, I sidled away and fled to the master bedroom like lightning. Then without a word, I lifted the covers and lay down, positioning myself properly. Not long after, the master bedroom door opened, and James walked in. Seeing me lying in bed, he paused for a moment, his footsteps stopping in place, just looking at me. I felt my scalp tingle under his gaze. “Honey, which side do you usually sleep on?” He didn’t answer me. How come I feel that after a few years, James’s personality has become quite strange? He always likes to stare at you coldly without saying a word. I pulled a face and got out of bed, standing by the side. “You choose first.” Petty James! I cursed him in my heart, knowing he couldn’t hear me. But this time he moved. He walked to the other side, lay down on the bed, and ignored me, turning off the bedside lamp with a click. Me: … It was pitch black. Fortunately, I don’t have night blindness, otherwise I really would have hit someone! I felt my way back into bed in the dark. The person beside me was breathing evenly. Everything around was quiet, but I couldn’t sleep at all. Even my brain felt like a jumbled mess, unable to think about anything. I was already feeling frustrated, and now my robe was digging into my sore arm, making it even more uncomfortable. I moved slightly, and the person next to me didn’t react. So I sat up a little, intending to take off my robe. Successfully removing the robe, I rubbed my sore arm, completely unaware that James, who had his eyes closed, suddenly opened them. In one swift motion, he flipped over and pinned me under his body. He leaned down to look at me. My breathing became erratic due to nervousness. In the darkness, I couldn’t see him clearly. But I could feel that he was very close to me, so close that our breaths intertwined silently. “James, aren’t you asleep yet?” “What exactly are you trying to do?” “What?” “You were the one who wanted to get married, and you were the one who went to great lengths to get a divorce. Now you’re sleeping with me, trying to seduce me. Chloe, I don’t have time to play games with you. If you want something, just say it directly.” “Seduce?” I stared at him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling a chill in my chest. I looked down and realized how revealing the pajamas I was wearing were. No wonder James thought my current behavior was an attempt to seduce him. “I… I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” As I spoke, I reached out to pick up the robe I had thrown on the floor. But James clearly didn’t want to continue sleeping in the same bed with me anymore. He got off me, then got up and left the bedroom, leaving me with these words: “Chloe, I don’t care what you’re thinking right now. I have no feelings for you anymore. I hope you understand this point. Whether you’re pretending to have amnesia or trying to seduce me, it all means nothing to me now.” “I’ll sleep in the guest room tonight. Do as you please.” James left. In the huge space, only I remained, left with nothing but sadness.

I couldn’t sleep. I just lay there, staring blankly until dawn. Around seven, I heard James talking outside, along with a woman constantly saying “okay, okay, okay.” I guessed it must be the housekeeper. After a while, the front door closed, and the sound of a car engine started. James had left for work. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with my mind in chaos, starting to ponder. I’ve never been an outgoing person. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have secretly had a crush on James for so many years. But now, not only had my secret crush succeeded, but I had also become his wife. Although I was shocked, I felt more of an indescribable joy. I thought this was a chance given to me by heaven, but I didn’t expect to have played such a bad hand in this marriage. Low emotional intelligence really is a fatal flaw. Lost in these thoughts, the bedroom door suddenly opened. A woman wearing a housekeeper’s uniform walked in. When she saw me, she quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know there was someone inside.” “It’s okay, I was just about to get up.” I smiled at her, and she finally relaxed and slowly walked in. “The master has gone to work. I thought this room was empty. Didn’t you used to sleep in your own room?” My own room? I suddenly remembered that yesterday when I went to get clothes, there seemed to be a bed in that room. So, I had been sleeping in another room all along. In other words, were we living separately? Thinking about it this way, James’s series of unusual behaviors yesterday all made sense. Too embarrassing to face anyone. I buried my face in my hands, already regretting my actions many times over. Coco probably heard our conversation and came running to the bedroom door barefoot, looking at me eagerly but not daring to come in. “Coco, come here to Mommy.” I called to him gently, reaching out my arms. Hearing me say this, the little one excitedly rushed over to me. Then he suddenly pounced on me, knocking me back onto the bed, showing his little tiger teeth and grinning happily. “Mommy.” He said, not forgetting to nuzzle his head against my chest. It melted my heart. He really is my adorable baby boy. No matter how much James hates me right now, this son is my own flesh and blood. I must treat Coco well. I greeted the housekeeper and took Coco out, spending some quality time just the two of us. I took Coco shopping, bought him lots of nice clothes, and also got some normal clothes for myself. After all, my post-marriage dressing style was really hard to accept. I held Coco as he happily ate ice cream in my arms. The little guy was so happy, his mouth full of cream. I gently wiped his face. “Coco, what was Mommy like before?” Coco looked at me, pouted, and then spoke in a somewhat aggrieved tone. “Didn’t like Coco.” Then he added. “Mean.” Children don’t lie, but his words made my heart ache. So, I had changed so much before that even I couldn’t recognize myself. Then, why did James choose to marry me? Was it because he liked me? If so, he really had peculiar taste. “Mommy, I want to eat that!” Coco, sitting in my arms, suddenly stretched out his chubby little hand, pointing at the family bucket newly launched on the McDonald’s poster. Indeed, children can’t resist the “real fragrance” theory. Me: “Let’s buy it!” An hour later, Coco and I sat with our heads down on the sofa in James’s office, looking just like two little kids who had done something wrong. The cause was the family bucket emitting a delicious aroma now sitting on the coffee table in front of us. It all started because Coco thought his dad must be working hard alone in the office while we were out having fun, so he wanted to share his “delicious food” with his dad. James’s workplace happened to be near the mall, and I couldn’t bear to refuse the little guy’s request, so we cheerfully went to James’s office. But in James’s eyes, Coco’s “delicious food” was nothing but “junk food”. So, what followed was this interrogation. “Why did you buy this junk food for Coco to eat?”

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When I die, he’ll be holding another woman. I succeeded in my plan. I’ll become the pain he can never forget for the rest of his life. “Miss Adams, here’s your medication. Please take it.” I took the white pill bottle and said thanks. With these sleeping pills, I should be able to get some good rest. It’s time to start the plan. Sitting in the taxi, I thought about the message Adam had just sent me. “There’s a party tonight, won’t be coming home.” I knew what kind of party it was – a welcome back party for Vivian Summer. I have to say, this Vivian is quite something. After dating Adam for a year, she had him wrapped around her finger. I accompanied Adam from age 21 to 27, a full six years, but it couldn’t compare to a single tear from Vivian. I’ve actually lived through this once before. At the end of the story, Adam married Vivian, and I died on their wedding day. I went insane and jumped off a building. I got nothing out of it. How could I accept that? So I came back to life, in the year Adam was 19. Following the normal trajectory, I would meet Adam at 21, when he was just starting his business, and I became his right-hand woman. My parents didn’t love me, his family was broken, and we licked each other’s wounds. For six long years, we even reached the point of discussing marriage. But the variable came at this party – Vivian was back. Not only was she back, but she also expressed her lingering feelings for Adam at the party. The two of them hit it off, and my six years of youth became a sacrifice. At 19, Adam was still the young master of the Chen family, getting whatever he wanted, dating the most beautiful girl, Vivian. At 20, Adam’s family fortunes declined, Vivian left him, and his life took a nosedive. I knew everything, so I entered his world ahead of time. I didn’t interfere with his relationship with Vivian. I watched Adam and Vivian date, watched them embrace, watched them kiss. Those sweet memories that once came from Vivian’s mouth, I saw them firsthand. For a whole year, my heart was soaked in their sweet atmosphere until it rotted. I waited quietly, waiting for the right moment. After Vivian left, I entered his world completely with the most sincere love, in the year when Adam fell into the dust. How ridiculous was the 20-year-old Adam? Childish and stubborn, refusing and waiting over and over again. Refusing me, waiting for Vivian. But companionship is the most enduring confession of love. Adam finally accepted me, and I accompanied him through his darkest year. Then, the story developed just as I remembered. He went from a newbie entrepreneur to a business tycoon, from rejecting me to proposing to me. Until – this party. “Miss, we’re here.” The horn interrupted my thoughts. I picked up my phone, displaying my chat history with Adam. The last message was at 11:35 PM “Do you need me to pick you up? Don’t drink too much, I’m worried about you.” Adam didn’t reply. I opened the car door and got out, doing something I had never done in my memory. The plan starts from this moment. The lights in the bar were swaying. I spotted Adam at a glance, sitting with his back to me. He was wearing a suit, standing out among the oddly dressed crowd. Vivian was sitting next to him, in a black dress, also standing out from the crowd, but matching Adam somewhat. The people sitting around them were all familiar to me, Adam’s fair-weather friends from when he was still a young master. I waited for a long time, thinking I wouldn’t see anything, but suddenly there was an outburst of laughter from afar. They were cheering, the sound was loud. Amidst the cheers, Vivian stood up and planted a kiss on Adam’s lips. I took out my phone, zoomed in, and captured this moment. I couldn’t see Adam’s expression clearly, but Vivian’s smile was undisguisable. My hand holding the phone trembled, my heart ached. Adam seemed to sense something and turned around, I lowered my hat brim and turned away. He didn’t see me. Back at the home Adam and I shared, it was empty. The emptiness didn’t feel good. I took a shower and sat on the sofa, staring at the clock, counting the time. 1:28 AM, the sound of the door unlocking. I opened my drowsy eyes and ran towards Adam, throwing myself into his arms. Adam caught me, patted my head, his low voice sounding in my ear. “Why aren’t you wearing shoes? You’ll catch a cold.” I reached out and cupped his face, gently rubbing the spot where Vivian had kissed, my voice muffled. “Where have you been? You were gone so long, and you didn’t reply to my message.” He paused but didn’t answer, just carried me to the sofa and put socks on my feet. I kicked him twice with my foot, somewhat dissatisfied. “Why aren’t you saying anything?” He patted my head, seeming a bit helpless. “An important client, I didn’t drink, my phone was off so I didn’t see the message.” I looked at him. Adam, you’re lying. I didn’t pursue it further, instead acting coy with Adam as usual.

Early the next morning, Adam went to work. After he left, I crawled out of bed and went to the study. Among the full shelves of materials and classics was my diary. I pulled out the diary, every page I turned was filled with my innermost thoughts, from meeting Adam to now. In these years without Vivian, I felt the love I didn’t have in my previous life. Perhaps because I accompanied Adam through his low point, he treated me differently. Although I knew Vivian was still in his heart. Sometimes I would hesitate, thinking maybe this time would be different? But then I would think of those six full years of companionship, only to be exchanged for Vivian’s grand entrance, for Vivian wearing the wedding dress I had ordered, for them kissing amidst blessings on the day of my death. I was driven nearly mad with hatred. Adam must, like me, be tormented by overwhelming emotions day and night. Tears fell on the diary, my hand caressing the photo I had taken that day. Over and over again, cutting another wound on my heart. I thought I wouldn’t feel pain anymore. “I went to pick up Adam and saw a girl kiss him. The girl was very happy, but I was very sad.” A brand new page, a few lines written in a flowing hand. Excitement and depression occupied my emotions simultaneously. It’s strange, but somehow enjoyable. I closed the diary and put it back in its original place. I applied light makeup and wore a white dress. The girl in the mirror looked serene and gentle. Completely different from Vivian’s glamour. I raised the corners of my mouth, and the girl in the mirror made the same movement. Shallow dimples like they were filled with honey. Adam had complimented me long ago, saying I looked good when I smiled. But I don’t like to smile, not after coming back again. I prefer crying now, crying hysterically makes me feel like I’m still alive, with vivid emotions, a person of flesh and blood. It will make me always remember Adam’s indifference and Vivian’s provocation.

After going out, I went to Adam’s company. The employees in the company all knew me, but their eyes were somewhat evasive when they looked at me. I could probably guess why. As it turned out, I guessed right. From Adam’s office came a girl’s laughter. I looked in through the glass, the two of them were sitting at the same table eating. Vivian picked up a piece of carrot and was about to feed it to Adam. Adam frowned but still bit the carrot and swallowed it. Adam doesn’t like carrots. My hand hanging at my side opened and clenched. I almost couldn’t control myself as I pushed open the door and rushed towards Vivian, giving her a slap. “Don’t you know he has a girlfriend! Why are you being so shameless! Get out right now!” Vivian’s eyes were wide open, seemingly unable to believe I had hit her. After reacting, Vivian cried, sobbing and explaining. “I… I didn’t. I don’t know why you hit me, sis. We’re just good friends, you misunderstood, right, Adam?” I looked at Adam again. He thought for a long time before coming up with an answer. “Lily, stop making a scene. Vivian is just an old friend. You shouldn’t hit someone without reason, apologize to her.” My hand holding the lunch box trembled uncontrollably. Adam, you’re lying again. The scene remained frozen like this. Vivian’s sobs broke Adam’s patience. “Lily Adams, if you hit someone, you need to apologize! Apologize to Vivian!” Adam frowned, his hand tapping on the table again and again. I rarely saw him like this. For a moment, I remembered when Adam was 20, how I tried my best to please him, but he was as stubborn as a bull, telling me over and over, “Lily Adams, I won’t like you, give up.” Just like now. — All for Vivian. Memories surged, welling up in my eyes again, becoming silent tears. My throat choked, I forced myself to say those words. “I’m sorry.” Adam’s brow relaxed, and he smiled again. “Lily, sit down and eat with us.” Vivian beside him chimed in, her voice bright and unrestrained. “Yes, Lily, come eat with us. I bought this meal specially for Adam! It’s from a very famous restaurant.” She looked at me, her eyes full of undisguised provocation. I stayed calm and didn’t make a scene again. On the contrary, Adam looked very happy. I put the lunch box on the table. Adam seemed to suddenly remember something and froze. I knew what he was thinking. I would bring him lunch every day, it was my habit, and his habit too. But today, he ate Vivian’s meal. I suppressed the trembling in my voice and said with a smile, “I came to bring you lunch, but since you’ve already eaten, I’ll go home and eat.” Adam opened his mouth, but in the end, only one word came out. “Mm.” I resolutely turned and left. In a place Adam couldn’t see, belated tears slid down my cheeks. The employees next to the office looked at each other, I pulled myself together and left with a smile. But I could still hear their whispers. “What’s going on, how can the boss’s real girlfriend not compete with the mistress?” “Shh, don’t gossip. I went to the same school as the boss before, the woman in the office is the boss’s ex-girlfriend. They were very much in love back then, it was quite a beautiful story.” “Ah? In that case, who will the boss end up with?” “I don’t know, but that poor official girlfriend.” Yes, poor her indeed. I laughed self-mockingly and left Adam’s company.

The sunlight was blinding, I shielded my eyes with my hand. “Sister, would you like to take a look?” I lowered my hand and saw a stuffed bear. The clumsy body leaned towards me, somewhat comical. I took the flyer from his hand, it was for a nearby cafe. “I’ll go, thank you.” The image of me accompanying Adam to hand out flyers flashed in my mind. Those days when the streets were as hot as a steamer — that was the hardship I endured with him. I smiled at the mascot, about to leave when I heard his energetic voice. “Sister, your smile is very pretty.” I froze, those words echoing in my ears. Lily, your smile is very pretty. “Really?” I reflexively asked him. The rough fabric patted my cheek, the clumsy mascot was struggling to raise his hand. “If you don’t cry, it’s very pretty.” “Sister, don’t cry anymore.” I touched my eyes in a daze, my fingertips felt wet. I cried again? I shouldn’t cry. After a moment, a smile bloomed on my face. I hugged the mascot, and he didn’t refuse me. “Thank you.” I must be crazy. I just sat next to him, watching him hand out flyers one by one, chatting with passersby sentence by sentence. He told me to go home soon, I shook my head and refused. He didn’t mind, just moved his clumsy mascot costume to block the sun for me. So this is how it feels to be cared for, it’s so nice. As the sun set, he took off the mascot suit and sat with me. Next to us was the water he had run to buy for me. The weather was too hot, his hair was damp and limp on his forehead. I took out a tissue for him, he took it, wiped the sweat on his face, then pushed his bangs up. Very sunny, very handsome. Completely different from Adam’s steady looks. I stared at him in a daze, he waved his hand in front of my eyes, smiling and asking, “I’m handsome, right? You’re staring.” I was amused by his goofy expression. I pushed his hand away and stood up. “Don’t be so narcissistic.” “I need to go home now, you should go home early too.” The ride-share driver honked impatiently. I waved to him and got in the car. Through the car window, I saw him hugging the mascot suit, his back to the sunset, smiling and waving to me. I didn’t tell him that his smile was very nice too. Many years ago, it was me wearing the mascot suit to block the sun for Adam who hated the heat. Inside the mascot suit, it was stuffy and suffocating, like a steamer. Adam’s complaining tone and young master temper are still very clear in my memory. What was I thinking back then? I was thinking, if only someone would block the sun for me too. Why am I thinking about Adam again. Once again, I touched my eyes — dry. This time I didn’t cry. Back home, it was still empty. Vivian somehow added me on SnapChat, I accepted, but she didn’t send me a message. I knew what she was up to. Opening Instagram, sure enough, there was her playful caption and a photo. “Dinner with my favorite person! Even the lemonade tastes sweet~” The picture showed two glasses of lemonade and a sumptuous meal. And a man’s hand — obviously Adam’s. He was clever, even took off the watch I gave him. Once again, I wrote in my diary. “Today Adam forgot I would bring him lunch, and ate with another girl. That girl even fed him carrots he doesn’t like, I was so angry I slapped her. Adam took her side and made me apologize, I felt so hurt.”

After that day, Adam rarely came home. I often couldn’t sleep, even sleeping pills didn’t work. Sometimes I’d finally fall asleep in bed, only to wake up startled soon after. The dreams were pitch black nothingness. My hair was falling out in clumps, and I kept losing weight. Although I had made all the plans, including my death at the end, I still couldn’t achieve calm and indifference. Sometimes looking at my listless self in the mirror, remembering how bright and lively I was like Vivian before meeting Adam, I would break down crying uncontrollably. The plan needs to speed up, I’m afraid one day, I won’t be able to hold on anymore. I know what will happen in a few days. There will be a murder at the biggest mall. A mentally ill person will stab people with a knife in the mall. Coincidentally, Adam will be stabbed. Coincidentally, Vivian will save him. But what if, the person shielding him is me? I carefully applied my makeup, making my complexion look a bit more rosy. I looked at the clock — 8:40 PM It’s time. I left with my bag. The mall was bustling. I headed straight for the men’s section. I picked out a tie for Adam, standing at a distance, watching Vivian cling to Adam’s arm and act coy. Vivian also bought a tie. She put it on Adam herself. Adam looked very happy. Although his face was expressionless. I repeated the action of taking a photo the first time. Zoom in, press the shutter. Someone tapped my shoulder, I lowered my phone and turned around. “Sister, what a coincidence!” It was the boy in the mascot suit. I hadn’t forgotten what he said, he said my smile was pretty. So I smiled at him. “Sister, are you here to buy a tie too?” I waved the bag in my hand, letting out a barely audible “Mm.” “Sister, can we add each other on SnapChat? My name is Ray Sunshine.” Ray Sunshine, a very sunny name, just like him. I looked into his eyes, they were beautiful. More beautiful was the sincerity in them. It was hard to refuse. After exchanging SnapChat, he inquired about me more. “Sister, is the tie for your boyfriend?” I glanced towards Adam in the distance, nodding. Ray’s tone obviously dropped. Noticing my gaze, he also looked towards Adam. “Sister, is that your boyfriend? He doesn’t look like it, isn’t he with another girl?” I nodded again. Adding a sentence: “He won’t be much longer.” Adam, see, no one believes it. Ray smiled, his eyes curving, his thoughts written all over his face. “Sister, when you break up, can you give me a chance?” My hand holding the shopping bag tightened, I didn’t know how to feel. But before I could ponder an answer, a man in tattered clothes rushed out of the elevator. My pupils constricted sharply, I dropped the shopping bag and ran towards Adam. Adam, like everyone around, dodged while holding Vivian. It was chaotic, when the man rushed over, Vivian hadn’t reacted yet, the knife had already pierced my body. This time it was me. There were screams and calls for help around me. In the last second before I lost consciousness, I heard Adam anxiously calling my name. I succeeded, the story’s reversal will begin from this moment.

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294599”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn

In a luxurious hotel, a couple was carried out, stuck together like conjoined twins, and loaded into an ambulance. And all of this was orchestrated by me. When I calmly called my husband, he was desperately trying to control his pain. “Honey, I’m in a meeting.” I gently reminded him, “Since you two love each other so much, why don’t you stay together forever?” I first noticed something was off with Frank when I was on a business trip to South Korea. He posted a photo on Instagram with the caption: “Clear skies, gentle breeze, the Maldives sea is especially blue today.” He was on his annual leave while I was away, visiting the Maldives he had been dreaming of. The photo was a group shot with his colleagues and friends. The seemingly ordinary group photo caught my attention for an unusual detail. My husband was originally wearing a pair of swim trunks I had given him, but they had mysteriously disappeared in the group photo, replaced by a new pair. After some searching, I found a dining photo he posted five days earlier, where half of a woman’s bottom was in the frame, wearing the exact same swim trunks. They were even pinned with a safety pin due to being too large. Could my husband be cheating? To verify my suspicion, I asked him about it when he returned. Instead of stammering, he smoothly told me that he had lost the trunks. “Honey, this is so embarrassing. You know those trunks? Guess what? While I was swimming in the sea, I didn’t tie the drawstring tight enough, and they got washed away!” He slapped his thigh as he spoke, using a tone as if he was telling a funny story, which he often did to joke with me before. But now, I coldly watched his performance. This day was our fifth wedding anniversary, which he had completely forgotten. Seeing that he hadn’t made me laugh, he fell silent and voluntarily put his arm around my shoulder. “Honey, I’ll take better care of the things you give me in the future. Don’t be angry, okay?” He pouted and made a face at me, something I used to love when we were dating. But now, looking at Frank’s greasy face, I suddenly felt a wave of regret. When he was pursuing me, he was the least attractive among all my suitors, but he had a gentle temperament and his career was on par with mine. I thought choosing an unattractive man would ensure loyalty and faithfulness. I didn’t expect that men’s inherent flaws have nothing to do with looks. That afternoon, the company notified me of overtime work. I went to the underground parking lot to get my car. My husband and I each had a car, but mine was being serviced at the dealership, so I took his. Relying on a woman’s keen sixth sense, I detected an unusual signal – the passenger seat had been moved, reclined at least 15 degrees more than usual. Someone had sat in our private car. We bought this comfortable Mercedes SUV when we decided to try for a baby, thinking of our future child’s comfort. I have a sensitive nose, and a faint fishy smell in the air subtly reminded me: they had made love in this car. And to make it convenient, they had adjusted the seat angle. My eyes scanned the car seat, and sure enough, I found a small section of black fabric peeking out from the gap in the passenger armrest. I pulled it out – it was a pair of panties, with particularly sexy and eye-catching lace trim. I tucked away this evidence, pretending nothing had happened. A few days later, a bikini was stuffed in the same place. I coldly gripped it, but this time I noticed something different. I caught a faint whiff of perfume on the bikini. It was a new light fragrance from LV’s early summer collection, which I had tried on by chance while shopping at the mall. For this clue, I specifically met with many suspicious individuals, including my husband’s female colleagues and classmates. Finally, I discovered that only my goddaughter, Mia, wore the exact same scent. When she saw me, she was as affectionate as ever, snuggling up to my arm. “Godmother, did you miss me? I’ve been looking for a job recently. When should we have dinner together?” It was then that I noticed the once skinny high school girl I first met had grown into a tall, curvaceous young woman. I heard she had even undergone breast augmentation surgery earlier this year to enhance her beauty. Judging by the size, it should be about the same as the bikini I found. Mia was a student we had sponsored for four years, and she had just graduated from university. In my eyes, she was excellent in both character and studies, and should have been able to find a better future. Could it be that she was also confused, thinking she could climb the social ladder and transform from a sparrow to a phoenix by being my husband’s mistress?

I deliberately teased her with a smile: “You’ve become even prettier in the few months we haven’t seen each other. Those breast enhancement pills really work well, your figure is even more amazing now.” She seemed a bit embarrassed, coyly pushing me away, “Oh, godmother, you’re so naughty~” Mia’s lips flashed a hint of cunning, but she proudly told me: “Yes, I used breast enhancement pills. You can see the results yourself, godmother. A celebrity figure.” I nodded silently, thinking this was probably the ideal body type that men love most in adult films. Men are all visual creatures. Who could resist a pure and busty college girl? Compared to her, my well-maintained figure from years of Pilates seemed so ordinary. “Let’s have dinner together sometime.” “Sure!” She nodded excitedly, constantly praising my good taste, saying that the clothes and bags I matched were particularly stylish. It was then that I noticed the gemstone ring on her finger and the luxury brand clothes she was wearing. It seemed she had been doing well recently. “Godmother, you’re becoming more and more charming. Uncle Frank must love you very much. This is called the charm of a mature woman!” Mia, being a business major, was indeed skilled in both flattery techniques and tone. After returning home, I expressionlessly threw away all the car accessories and replaced them with a new set. Coincidentally, Frank had just returned from “working overtime.” Seeing that I had prepared a late-night snack, he gave me a hug and said with a smile: “Honey, you’re so considerate. Thank you for your hard work.” His suit was spotless, with a deliberate attempt to cover up with chewing gum and men’s cologne, making me even more suspicious. At that moment, I really wanted to sarcastically ask him: “You’re back? Have you showered? Is the smell of women still on you?” But I held back. Years of workplace experience had taught me the importance of restraint and calmness. I still smiled and replied, “Okay, honey. I picked up your documents from the security guard and put them on the computer desk.” “Thank you, honey.” That night, he seemed eager to be intimate with me. I pretended to go along with it but noticed that his enthusiasm was actually low. So that’s it. After having an affair outside, he naturally lacked energy. So I directly said I was tired and would just browse my phone for a while before sleeping. He sneakily came closer to me and patted his shoulder confidently, “Do you want to lean on my shoulder for a bit?” I turned my back to him without responding, but my lips moved silently: I don’t want to rest my head where another woman has placed her legs. “By the way, I ran into Mia today. She said she wants to have lunch with us the day after tomorrow,” I probed. “She’s really grown into a beauty now, quite the transformation.” Frank seemed to hesitate for a moment but still answered calmly, revealing nothing. “Hmm, I haven’t seen her in a long time either.” I smirked, thinking I’d like to see how long you two can keep up this act. The next day at noon, Frank and I took time off and invited our goddaughter to a Chinese hot pot restaurant for a “reunion.” Mia wore a low-cut black cocktail dress that accentuated her fair skin, creating a striking visual contrast that made her look both alluring and delicate. While ordering, Frank casually instructed: “Waiter, we need a split pot. Mia is on her period these days and can’t eat anything too spicy.” Seeing my displeased expression, Mia quickly tried to smooth things over with a smile, “Don’t misunderstand, I just told Uncle Frank about my period earlier.” Only then did Frank realize his mistake and hurriedly said, “Yes, honey, your stomach isn’t good, so you shouldn’t eat anything too spicy either.” Love or lack thereof can easily be seen in the details. That night, I deliberately got myself drunk, but actually secretly spit all the alcohol into a trash can under the table. Seeing that he couldn’t move me, Frank gently covered me with his jacket and quietly sent me to a room upstairs in the hotel. I didn’t sleep at all that night. The jacket covering me had a faint scent of perfume, seemingly mocking me for his lack of love. The next day, I lied about items being stolen from the car and contacted the property management to check the surveillance footage in the underground parking lot. Sure enough, I found that they had left home by car in the morning. The car wasn’t enough, they dared to bring the mistress into our home now, right? If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I might have still liked this goddaughter of ours, being fooled by my husband’s sweet words.

I spent a hefty sum to hire a private investigator to look into Mia. After marrying Frank, we managed our salaries separately, so he didn’t know how much savings I had. In fact, I had earned quite a bit through investments over the years. Originally, I planned to buy an apartment in the city center for our child after getting pregnant, which would be convenient for schooling. Now it seems that won’t be necessary. A few days later, the private investigator came to tell me, “There was a famous socialite at the University of Cambridge, and that was Mia. Fellow students said they often saw her going out to dinner with various men…” No wonder Mia could afford LV perfume and was dressed in designer brands when I saw her last time, even though she had just graduated and hadn’t found a job yet. “According to her classmates, she was previously expelled from school due to her private life issues, and she even tried to seduce the vice-chancellor, but failed.” “Moreover, Mia’s academic performance was actually at the bottom of the class, teetering on the edge of being asked to leave.” When I heard the private investigator say these things, my heart was bleeding. When we chose to sponsor her, she was still a thin, sallow-faced little girl, but her eyes sparkled with determination. Because of her good grades, she once earnestly told me that she believed “knowledge can change destiny.” She would sweetly call me “godmother,” and dance happily when she first wore the new dress I bought for her… I never expected that after struggling to get into the University of Cambridge and seeing the world, her values would change to believe that being a rich man’s mistress was better than studying. I heard that her current profession is modeling, and her next step is to enter the entertainment industry to make money, which explains the plastic surgery and breast augmentation. I remembered that Frank’s work was related to the entertainment industry. She probably wanted to enter the entertainment industry through Frank, and then dump him to hook up with other wealthy men. After all, what face does a girl who was so promiscuous in school have left to give up? Besides this, the private investigator also gave me a fund flow statement, which was Frank’s payment details. We manage our finances separately, and most of his income comes from salary and stocks. Another part is clearly shown on the bill – nearly 100,000 yuan spent on Mia! How long have they been together? And he’s already spent so much money! I asked the private investigator for one thing: a listening device that could be installed in the car. He hesitated and reminded me that eavesdropping is illegal, and evidence obtained through eavesdropping would not be accepted by the court. I said I knew that and wouldn’t use it as evidence. I just wanted to see if this pair of scumbags was really that disgusting. He then nodded and handed the device to me. A few days later, I used the excuse of a business trip to not return home. Sure enough, I discovered activity in the car. It seems they really like this SUV. “I want a hug,” Mia’s seductive voice came through the earphones. “My sweet baby, did you miss me today?” This was Frank’s naughty laugh, very different from his usual reserved and mature professional demeanor. “I did, you’re so bad.” The rest was just the sound of the seats creaking. Listening to those sounds, I smirked and clenched my fists, then immediately dialed Frank’s number without hesitation. He hung up several times, but seeing my urgent calls, he was forced to answer. “Hello, honey, where are you?” I asked. “Honey, I… ah… I’m in a meeting,” he tried to keep his voice calm and gentle. But I could still hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down, as well as his suppressed gasps. You know, I’m only eight years older than Mia, just turned thirty this year, and I take good care of myself. I don’t look old at all. Frank is average-looking, and his overall financial situation is not as good as mine. When we first got together, relatives and friends jokingly called us “Beauty and the Beast.” Many men wanted to pursue me. Since Frank doesn’t cherish what he has, he deserves to be abandoned by me. I smirked. Since they like being naked so much, I’ll grant their wish!

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During our romantic getaway, my husband Jack impulsively recorded a 15-second intimate video of us. He meant to send it to me but accidentally posted it in our neighborhood SnapChat group instead. He frantically deleted it within 30 seconds. Little did we know, the neighbor’s kid had saved it. The boy curiously asked me: “Auntie, who’s that pretty lady Uncle Jack was hugging in bed?” For our first month of marriage, Jack and I both took annual paid leave and decided to fly to the Maldives for a romantic getaway. The crystal-clear waters of the Maldives were breathtaking. I went for a swim in my black bikini, my curves accentuated by the shimmering waves. “Babe, you look so hot,” Jack said with a grin, capturing the moment with his camera. Photography was Jack’s biggest hobby. He’d taken countless stunning photos of me since we started dating. That evening, after an exhilarating beach bonfire party, we retired to our $5,000-a-night luxury resort suite. We figured we should indulge since this was a once-in-a-lifetime trip. After showering, Jack eagerly embraced me from behind, whispering my name over and over. “Lena, I love you, I’ll love you forever… Will you call out my name like that when we make love?” I blushed and turned away. “You’re so shameless! What if someone hears us?” “Don’t worry, this fancy resort has top-notch soundproofing. You can be as loud as you want.” As we bantered, Jack got more excited and suggested recording a short video to commemorate the moment. If this had happened when we were just dating, I would have firmly refused. But now that we were married, I figured I could indulge my husband’s little fantasy. It was just a 15-second clip. After filming, he praised how “fair-skinned” I looked and said he’d send it to me. I checked my phone. “I didn’t receive anything. Did you forget to send it?” Jack quickly checked and slapped his forehead. “Crap, I posted it in the neighborhood group chat!” He hurriedly deleted it within 30 seconds. I panicked too. It would be mortifying if others saw such private footage. But a few people in the group had already seen it and teasingly commented on how pretty the woman looked. Seeing my anger, Jack hastily said, “Don’t worry, I only filmed your face and back. Nothing inappropriate was shown.” I blushed furiously. “They’ve all seen me before. Why are they suddenly calling me pretty?” “Maybe it’s because you’re glowing with happiness today, darling. Your inner beauty is shining through, so they naturally find you radiant.” “Smooth talker!” Even though he deleted it quickly, the incident still left me feeling uneasy. It dampened my mood for the last few days of our trip. Then one afternoon, I was taking a walk alone in our neighborhood when the 7-year-old boy from next door suddenly approached me with his phone. “Auntie! Auntie!” Since we were neighbors who often ran into each other, I thought he wanted to play. I bent down and asked what was wrong. To my surprise, the little boy pulled up a video and said he had saved it when Uncle Jack posted it in the group chat. “Auntie, who’s that pretty lady Uncle Jack was hugging in bed?” The woman’s face wasn’t clearly visible in the video, but it definitely wasn’t me. There was just a glimpse of parted red lips in profile. Her figure fit the slim Asian beauty standard perfectly. She was on all fours on the bed. Any adult could guess what was happening from that angle. And from the room layout, it was clearly the same resort we stayed at for our getaway! I frowned deeply. No wonder he chose the wrong video, given the similar angles. Could it be that Jack was having an affair with another woman during our romantic trip?

The small mole on the man’s abdomen confirmed it was indeed my husband. My husband cheating in the first month of marriage… Could anyone be more unlucky than me? I saved the video and deleted it from the boy’s phone, then bought him a lollipop. “The uncle and auntie in the video were just playing a game. Kids shouldn’t ask about these things. Don’t play with your mom’s phone so much in the future, okay?” The little boy skipped away happily. My smile froze as rage boiled inside me, feeling both humiliated and shocked. Jack had married into my family. Even the marital home with both our names was bought by my family… How dare he be so bold as to cheat on me? I stared at the woman in the video. She had a petite figure and fair skin in profile, looking quite young. I’d met all of Jack’s female colleagues and friends. This was clearly an unfamiliar face. I suspected she might be a hookup he found during the trip, but I wasn’t sure. After all, we were married now, and it would be hard to undo. If I rushed to divorce without solid evidence, I’d be at a disadvantage when dividing assets! Filled with resentment, I went to see my friend Mia who works in the beauty industry and showed her the video. She was shocked. “No way, weren’t you two on your honeymoon? He hooked up with another woman?” I fumed, “I know, right? This scumbag acts like such a loyal puppy in front of me, but he’s up to these tricks behind my back.” Mia pondered for a moment, then suddenly pointed at the video and said: “This woman used prosthetic makeup techniques. It’s not her real appearance.” As someone in the beauty industry, my friend easily spotted that the woman’s nose was sculpted with special effects clay. She even pointed out the details to me. I laughed bitterly. These days, women even use fake faces to cheat? How interesting. “Lena, don’t overthink it. That homewrecker will slip up eventually. You’re rich and beautiful anyway, ditching this scumbag won’t affect you much,” Mia reassured me solemnly. However, how could a bad marriage have no impact? Moreover, if I got divorced right after getting married, friends and family would surely mock me behind my back. I absolutely couldn’t let Jack get away scot-free. I had to catch solid evidence of his affair. To avoid alerting him, I acted normal when my husband came home that night, though I was already plotting how to investigate him. Unfortunately, before marriage we had agreed not to check each other’s phones to maintain trust and privacy, so I didn’t know his phone password. Before bed, I refused his advances. Jack was quite surprised. “Babe, we just got married and you’re already losing interest? Come on, look at other couples.” I made an excuse about being tired and said I wanted to turn off the lights and sleep. But my gaze was drawn to some racy videos on my husband’s phone screen. They were a series of voyeuristic short clips, all from a male point-of-view angle. The women in the videos were posed like puppets in various positions. Jack chuckled awkwardly. “This is from my buddy. Can you believe his lack of class, filming his own wife and sending it around? He’s sent me quite a few.” I couldn’t help but ask curiously, “Which buddy?” “My high school classmate Ryan. You met him at that small gathering before.” I seized the opportunity to ask to see his phone. Jack handed it over without hesitation. Sure enough, in his chat history with Ryan, there were several videos of Ryan’s wife. Although no private parts were exposed, it was still disgusting to film and share intimate videos. It was clear this couple enjoyed roleplaying, as the woman had different makeup and outfits each time. Could my husband’s affair partner be her? My suspicions grew, so I asked Jack to introduce me to his friend’s wife. To my surprise, my husband agreed readily. “Sure, it’s been a while since I’ve had dinner with Ryan anyway. I’ll set something up tomorrow so you can meet them.” At the barbecue dinner, I met Ryan’s wife for the first time. Her name was Lily. Though her features weren’t stunning, she had fair skin and ample cleavage peeking out from her camisole dress. “Nice to meet you, sister-in-law,” she greeted me shyly, blushing charmingly. I learned that she worked at the same beauty salon as my friend Mia. “Do you know Mia?” I asked. She shook her head in confusion. “I’m a beautician too, but I’ve only been working there for a month. I don’t know that sister yet.” Hearing she was a beautician, my heart skipped a beat as I recalled my friend mentioning “prosthetic makeup techniques”. So Lily also knew how to do special effects makeup and disguises… Could it be that Lily, seeking thrills but afraid of exposure, had disguised herself to hook up with my husband? I was startled by this bold idea, instantly imagining all sorts of scandalous scenarios. My face burned. I even thought of the comments under popular makeup transformation videos: “I really want to marry a makeup artist! Marrying her would be like marrying all the female celebrities in the entertainment industry.” “Getting this woman would be like having a whole harem!” Lost in wild speculation, Lily waved her hand in front of my eyes. “Sister, are you feeling unwell? Your face looks terrible.” I gave her a meaningful look and shook my head. “It’s nothing, probably just the barbecue smoke.” She quickly handed me a tissue to wipe my sweat, smiling when she saw my hands. “Sister, your hands are so beautiful, just like you. Wealth really shows, doesn’t it?” Only then did I notice how rough Lily’s hands were, quite at odds with her sweet appearance. They were clearly the hands of someone used to hard work. After some conversation, I learned that both Lily and Ryan came from poor rural backgrounds. She was a beautician and he was a manual laborer. The couple was struggling to make ends meet in the city, with no hope of affording a home anytime soon. I started to have doubts. Looking at her innocent demeanor, she probably didn’t even know her husband was sharing her videos around. Could such a naive girl really be a homewrecker who enjoys destroying other people’s marriages? To find out who that woman really was, I had an idea. If she was willing to follow me and my husband to our honeymoon resort, she must also be interested in other high-end hotels. I immediately booked a night at a new Japanese-style hot spring resort in the suburbs and sweetly said to Jack: “Honey, I didn’t get enough of our romantic getaway. This weekend, can we go soak in the hot springs?” Jack smiled. “Whatever makes you happy.” Looking at my husband’s gentle smile, I felt incredibly mocked. When it came to putting on an act, cheaters really were the best. On Saturday, we arrived as planned. This famous hot spring resort lived up to its reputation. The warm mist and blooming flowers created a perfect relaxing atmosphere that few women could resist. When we got to the hot spring, I pretended to take an urgent call and came back looking flustered. “Honey, something came up at work that I need to handle. I won’t be able to enjoy the hot spring today.” He asked with concern, “What’s wrong? Do you want me to drive you there?” I shook my head. “It’s fine, just some project issues my assistant can’t handle alone. I’ll have to work overtime today and sleep at the office. Why don’t you stay and enjoy the hot spring? No need to waste it.” Jack nodded reluctantly. “Alright babe, be safe.” I pretended to leave, but actually changed into different clothes and snuck back in. After anxiously waiting for about 15 minutes, the fish took the bait. A woman in an indigo wave-patterned kimono appeared hand-in-hand with Jack at the front desk, queuing to get their number. The woman’s kimono was loosely tied, revealing glimpses of her chest underneath. That fleeting side profile… was almost identical to the one I saw in the video! They took their number and disappeared into the crowd. In the hallway, I looked around cautiously and finally found our reserved room. I tiptoed towards the door. One step, two steps, three steps. The sliding door was pushed open a crack, warm yellow light seeping through. In the private hot spring, water splashed as Jack’s hands tightly gripped the woman’s slender waist, kissing her lips nonstop. The woman tilted her head back, enjoying his kisses while singing shamelessly like a siren. My heart sank. Because that familiar voice and petite figure were all too recognizable to me… Jack suddenly scolded her in a low voice, barely concealing his excitement. “Louder! You little minx.” 4 My friend Mia had studied music, and this was her favorite love song that she often hummed around me. My heart felt like it had been viciously torn to shreds, overwhelmed with pain. I never imagined that the two people closest to me would end up betraying me! Mia’s usually sallow face now looked as fair and delicate as jade, seemingly a decade younger. She giggled coquettishly: “Aren’t you afraid your wife will suddenly come back and catch us?” My husband possessively tightened his grip on her slim waist. “Not at all. She’s gone back to the office. It’s over 60 miles from here to downtown. She definitely won’t be back tonight.” Mia laughed softly as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I specially did the prosthetic makeup your wife has seen before. How’s that? Exciting enough?” Jack pinched her nose. “Don’t remind me of that. Last time we almost got caught. Good thing I was smart enough to use my buddy’s videos as a cover.” She stuck out her tongue and quoted her favorite TV show line: “If we’re going for thrills, might as well go all out.” They looked at each other and burst into unrestrained laughter. Talk about staying in character. I gritted my teeth and continued listening to see what other schemes this pair of dogs had in store for me. “You promised to divorce her right after the wedding… Then marry me. Have you forgotten?” “Baby, don’t rush. I’m just afraid divorcing too quickly would raise suspicions. Besides, my father-in-law promised to help with my promotion. That’s not settled yet.” Jack earnestly explained. As for why he liked the plain-looking Mia, he gave the answer himself. He said he liked that she could do all kinds of makeup transformations, giving him a fresh experience every time. Jack complained, “Baby, you’re so considerate. Unlike that Lena, always with the same boring look. She never makes a sound in bed either. I’m so sick of it.” “If it weren’t for her family background, I wouldn’t have deliberately pursued her. Marrying that dull woman would be such a waste of my life.” … I rubbed my temples and laughed bitterly. All the love and tenderness had just been an elaborate scam! Since I had booked the room, I could use the app to order water or herbal baths. In my fury, I decided to “spice up” their passionate encounter. I activated the automatic hot water feature, selecting 140°F water from the overhead shower. This temperature wouldn’t kill them, but it would certainly make for a “steamy” night. While they were passionately kissing and lost in the heat of the moment, scalding hot water poured over them from head to toe. Their amorous sounds abruptly ceased. “Ahh!” “F*ck! Where did this hot water come from? It’s burning me alive!”

🌟 Continue the story here 👉🏻 📲 Download the “NovelMaster” app 🔍 search for “294597”, and watch the full series ✨! #NovelMaster #浪漫Romance #玄幻Fantsy #狼人werewolf #擦边Steamy #励志Inspiring #现实主义Realistic #校园School #后宫Harem #重生Reborn