Author: Momo Chan

I had deliberately kept thirty premium suites empty for Allee, a longtime corporate client, despite Memorial Day weekend being fully booked for months. She brought thirty employees for a retreat, but at checkout, she was outraged. “Why are we paying $500 a night when walk-ins pay $400?” she shouted. I tried to explain, “Their rate doesn’t include park passes, meals, or shuttle service—” She cut me off with a sharp slap across my face. “I don’t care! Refund the difference or we cancel!” I said nothing, quietly processed the cancellation. As soon as they left, I called a travel agency I’d turned away days earlier. They had a group of a hundred seniors needing lodging. The tour director wired the deposit instantly, nearly crying with relief. “You saved us—I thought they’d be on the street! Finding rooms now is impossible.” Just as I hung up, a news alert flashed: record holiday crowds, with even luxury resorts sold out. 1 “What exactly are you trying to pull, Marsha?” Allee slammed her hand on the reception counter. “You quoted us five hundred bucks a head. I just watched a guy pay four hundred. You are intentionally ripping off your most loyal clients!” I kept my hand pressed against my stinging cheek, forcing down the massive wave of shock and fury bubbling in my chest. I took a breath and tried to explain one last time. “Allee, you are completely misunderstanding the situation. Mr. Davis was a walk in. He is only staying for a single night, and his four hundred dollars covers the bed and nothing else. Your five hundred dollar rate is an all inclusive package. If you do the math, you are getting an incredibly massive discount.” “A discount? Do you think I am an absolute idiot?” Allee refused to listen. Instead, she cranked her volume up even higher, drawing the stares of everyone lingering in the lobby. “It is just a few extra plates of food and a stupid piece of paper! How much could that possibly cost? You are just taking advantage of our loyalty. You think we are easy targets, so you are jacking up the price!” “That is simply not true, Allee.” I maintained my composure, even though the side of my face was throbbing painfully. “The all access pass to Lake Sapphire costs a hundred and eighty bucks. Our dining is an all you can eat buffet. Breakfast alone has over twenty premium options.” “Lunch and dinner include steak, fresh seafood, an entire dessert bar, and unlimited beverages. You get complimentary private shuttles to the train station and the lake.” “You also get a dedicated tour guide for the entire day, a fifty dollar voucher for the lakeside food trucks, and free access to three premium water sports.” “At five hundred bucks, I am barely breaking even. If you do not believe me, go ask any other resort on this mountain. For the exact same package, they will charge you at least eight hundred dollars.” Allee shrieked, completely unreasonable. “I do not care what other places do! I only care that you gave someone else a cheaper rate! You either refund every single one of us a hundred bucks, or we are walking out that door!” We had been doing business for ten years. I kept her rate locked in at five hundred. I held that price for a decade. Every other hotel in the area had tripled their prices. I still gave her the five hundred dollar loyalty rate. And this was how she repaid me. By slapping me across the face. But I still swallowed my temper. “Allee, if you truly feel that a hundred dollars is a rip off, I can drop your rate to four hundred bucks to match the walk in guests. But that means every single additional service will be immediately canceled.” “The only reason I came to your lodge was for the all inclusive perks!” Allee screamed. “If you cancel the extra services, why the hell would I stay in your hotel!” It was blatantly obvious. She just wanted to milk me for everything I had. She wanted to pay the four hundred dollar bare bones rate, but she still expected the five hundred dollar VIP treatment. But I was not running a charity. Allee pointed a manicured finger right at my nose. “If you do not agree to my terms right now, I am taking my entire team and leaving! Your hotel is going to sit totally empty for the entire holiday weekend, and I want to see who you are going to find to fill these rooms!” The young receptionist standing beside me finally snapped. “What is wrong with you? The sketchy motels down the road have skyrocketed their prices! Our boss kept your rate the same and gave you a million free perks, and you are still acting this greedy?” Allee let out a nasty sneer, side eying me like I was garbage. “Am I the greedy one, or is your boss just a bloodsucking capitalist who lost her morals? Hurry up! Either give me the cash, or cancel the rooms!” Her colleagues immediately chimed in to back her up. “If you do not give us the refund, we are going to bomb your hotel with one star reviews online!” “We will let the whole internet know this place is a total scam!” “You are so shady for ripping off old clients! It is disgusting!” “We would not stay here for four hundred bucks anyway. Just give us our money back!” Several of them pulled out their phones, opening up travel apps, fully prepared to start typing out vicious reviews. I took a deep, steadying breath and gently touched my burning cheek. Ten years of loyalty and goodwill. It was completely shattered by a single slap. There was absolutely no reason to preserve this relationship anymore. I let out a cold, hollow laugh. “Alright. I will process your cancellation right now.” Allee froze. She clearly did not expect me to agree so easily. A smug, triumphant look quickly washed over her face. “Hurry up and cancel it then. You are wasting my time. Let me tell you, there are a million luxury hotels begging for our business!” The young receptionist gathered the thirty ID cards and began canceling their rooms one by one. I stepped to the side, pulled out my phone, and dialed Shirley’s number. Shirley was the director of the Golden Years Travel Agency. About two weeks ago, she practically begged me for rooms. She had a massive senior citizen tour group of a hundred people looking for a two week stay. At the time, I had already promised Allee I would hold thirty premium suites for her corporate retreat. The remaining rooms I had were not enough to house a hundred people, so I had to politely decline. Shirley had sounded like she was on the verge of a breakdown. She told me this tour group was half of her yearly revenue. If it fell through, her agency would go bankrupt. She begged me to call her the second anything opened up. The phone rang exactly once before it was frantically answered. “Shirley, you mentioned you had a massive senior tour group coming to the lake. Did you manage to find lodging for them yet?” Shirley’s voice was thick with despair and exhaustion. “No, we didn’t! The whole trip is ruined. I am literally sitting at my desk right now, preparing to call a hundred sweet old people to tell them their vacation is canceled. My agency is not going to survive this weekend, Marsha.” Hearing that she was about to pull the plug, I quickly interrupted. “Shirley, I have rooms. I have enough space to comfortably house all a hundred of your guests.” Dead silence on the other end of the line for two solid seconds. Then, Shirley let out an absolute shriek of pure joy. “Are you serious? You actually have the rooms? Marsha, please tell me you are not joking! I will take them! I do not care how much it costs, I will take every single one of them!” I quoted her the exact same rate I had given Allee. “Five hundred bucks a person. That covers three buffet meals a day, the all access lake pass, private shuttles, a full day tour guide, the lakeside food vouchers, and three premium water sports.” Shirley let out another hysterical scream. “Oh my god! Are you running a charity? That price is an absolute steal! Do not move, I am wiring the deposit right this second before someone else snatches those rooms!” A second later, my phone pinged. Fifty thousand dollars hit my account instantly. Shirley quickly added, “That fifty grand is just the deposit for the first night! Our group is staying for the full two weeks. That is fifteen nights total. When I get there with the group, I will pay the rest of the balance in full! Marsha, please guard those rooms with your life! You are my absolute savior!” I happily agreed. The slight annoyance of losing thirty petty guests instantly evaporated. I felt incredibly light. Allee was actually right about one thing. If you want to make money, you cannot be too nice. Shirley’s hundred person group staying for fifteen nights was infinitely more profitable, and significantly less of a headache, than dealing with thirty penny pinching, entitled brats. I hung up the phone and walked back to the front desk. The receptionist had finished the paperwork. Every single cent of the deposit was refunded directly to Allee’s corporate card. Allee held up her phone, waving the refund notification proudly at her employees. “Did you guys see that? When you deal with greedy scammers, you have to play hardball!” “Let’s go! We are going to find a much better resort!” “Let her cry in her empty hotel all weekend!” The employees grabbed the handles of their rolling suitcases and followed Allee toward the glass doors of the lobby. But the moment they reached the exit, they abruptly stopped. It was currently two in the afternoon. The local transit buses that ran down the mountain only came once every four hours. The next bus was not scheduled to arrive until six in the evening. If they wanted to charter a private shuttle, it would cost at least eighty bucks a head. Thirty people meant twenty four hundred dollars out of pocket. Allee was incredibly cheap. There was absolutely no way she was going to spend that kind of cash. She hesitated for a moment, then turned to her team. “Whatever, we have time to kill. Let’s just chill in the lobby for a bit and catch the six o’clock bus.” Without waiting for a response, she marched right back into the center of my lobby, dropped heavily onto a plush leather sofa, crossed her legs, and started scrolling through her phone. Her employees exchanged awkward glances, but having no other choice, they dragged their luggage back inside and claimed the remaining seats. Thirty people packed my lobby, taking up every single chair and sofa. My young receptionist turned pale with anger, muttering under her breath. “How do they have the nerve to sit on our furniture? This is disgusting! She literally assaulted you, canceled her room, and now she is loitering like she owns the place!” I just offered a casual smirk. “Let them sit.” Honestly, I was praying they stayed exactly where they were. I wanted them to have front row seats when Shirley walked through those doors with a hundred paying guests. I wanted them to realize exactly who the actual joke was. Time ticked by slowly. The vintage clock on the lobby wall chimed the passing hours. At first, Allee looked incredibly smug. She scrolled through social media, humming a catchy pop song, occasionally shooting me a triumphant glare. She fully believed she had won. But after an hour passed, she started getting restless. She kept checking her watch. She kept standing up and pacing by the front doors, peering out into the driveway. Her employees were clearly losing their patience too. Another hour passed. It was now four in the afternoon. A group of exhausted tourists dragging heavy suitcases walked into the lobby. “Excuse me, do you guys have any vacancies? We need two rooms.” I offered a polite, apologetic smile and shook my head. “I am so sorry, we are completely booked.” The tourists groaned in despair and dragged their bags back out the door. Witnessing this, Allee’s eyes lit up with arrogant glee. She leaned over to her coworkers and whispered loudly. “Did you see that? She is turning away walk ins because she is waiting for us to crawl back and beg. Ha! I am not giving her the satisfaction. Just wait. She is going to come over here and grovel. When she does, we will aggressively negotiate the rate down to four hundred bucks, and we will force her to keep all the free perks.” The employees nodded eagerly, completely buying into Allee’s delusional logic. Over the next hour, several more groups of desperate tourists came in looking for a place to sleep. Since the entire lodge was reserved for Shirley’s mega group, I had to turn every single one of them away. Allee sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, watching me with a smug, knowing grin. She honestly believed I was rejecting paying customers just to keep the rooms open for her dramatic return. Five in the afternoon. Just one hour until the bus arrived. An older employee in Allee’s group finally cracked. He leaned close to Allee and spoke in a hushed, nervous tone. “Allee, maybe… maybe we should just stay here.” “I was looking out the window, and it looks like the entire town is completely booked. Plus, the service here is actually top tier. Five hundred bucks really is not that bad of a deal.” Another younger girl chimed in, her voice trembling slightly. “He is right, Allee. I was just checking the travel apps. The sketchy motels down the road have jacked their prices up to over a thousand bucks a night! And they do not even offer breakfast. If we do not secure a room right now, we are literally going to be sleeping on the pavement.” The smug arrogance completely melted off Allee’s face. She froze. The truth was, she was internally panicking too. She had secretly checked the hotel apps an hour ago and saw the horrifying, skyrocketing prices. But her ego was too massive to admit she made a mistake. “Stop panicking!” she snapped, forcing a confident tone. “She is just playing hard to get to force us into paying more. Watch this. I will go negotiate with her.” “I guarantee I will get us the rooms for four hundred bucks, with all the VIP perks included.” With that, she stood up, smoothed out the wrinkles in her blazer, and sauntered over to the reception desk. She forced a highly artificial, plastic smile onto her face. “Marsha, let’s make a deal. Look at my team. We have so much luggage, and moving around is such a hassle. How about this… we will do you a favor and stay at your hotel.” “You give us the rooms for four hundred bucks a head, keep all the premium services, and we will call it even. Sound good?” I slowly lifted my eyes from the ledger and looked at her. “No.” The fake smile vanished from Allee’s face instantly. “Marsha, do not push your luck! I am offering to stay here to save your business! If I walk out that door, your precious hotel is going to sit empty for the entire Memorial Day weekend!” I ignored her completely and went back to double checking my invoices. Allee gritted her teeth. “Fine. You play hardball, I play hardball. Four hundred and fifty! That is my absolute limit! If you say no to this, we are genuinely leaving!” I did not even bother looking up. “No.” Allee exploded. “What the hell is your problem, Marsha? Four hundred and fifty is not enough? Are you that desperate for cash? Let me tell you something, I know exactly what you are doing! You are turning away random guests to force us into paying full price! Well guess what? It is not going to happen!” Her insults grew increasingly vicious and unhinged. “You greedy witch! You think owning a crappy hotel makes you royalty? You think having a little bit of money means you can treat people like garbage? I hope this place burns to the ground!” My receptionist was shaking with pure rage. “Watch your mouth! If you swear at us one more time, I am calling the cops!” “Call them! I dare you!” Allee shrieked, completely fearless. “When the cops get here, I will make sure they know exactly how you scam your loyal clients!” Right at that exact second, a massive wave of noise erupted from the driveway. “Oh my goodness, Shirley! We are finally here!” “Wow, this lodge is absolutely gorgeous!” “This is a million times better than that dingy place we stayed at last year!” I looked up. Shirley was leading a massive army of a hundred cheerful senior citizens straight through the sliding glass doors. They were wearing matching visors and pulling vibrant rolling suitcases, their faces glowing with excitement. I immediately stepped out from behind the desk, a bright, genuine smile spreading across my face as I went to greet them. “Shirley! I am so glad you guys made it safely! I have all your keys ready. You are all booked into our premium lakeview suites!” Shirley grabbed both of my hands, her eyes brimming with actual tears. “Marsha! You are literally my guardian angel! I seriously thought I was going to lose my business this weekend. I was ready to sell my house to cover the refunds! My husband was threatening to divorce me!” “You single handedly saved my marriage and my career! I can never thank you enough! From this day forward, every single tour group I manage is booking exclusively with you!” I was completely absorbed in welcoming Shirley and the sweet elderly guests. I did not spare a single glance for Allee. Allee and her thirty employees stood frozen in the corner of the lobby. They stared at the chaotic, joyful scene unfolding in front of them, their jaws practically hitting the floor. They simply could not comprehend it. They thought canceling their thirty rooms would ruin me. Instead, they watched me welcome a massive, highly lucrative wave of guests. Allee’s face shifted through a spectrum of colors. Red, white, then a sickly shade of green. She looked absolutely humiliated. But she was too toxic to let it go. She crept over to a group of elderly women waiting for their keys and whispered maliciously. “Ladies, do not let her fool you! This place is a total scam!” “She rips people off! She literally just tried to steal our money! You guys need to get out of here right now!” An older gentleman turned around, giving her a highly confused look. “A scam? How is it a scam? She gave us a room, three meals, park tickets, and a free bus ride all for five hundred bucks. You call that a scam?” “Little girl, I think you need your head checked.” Another woman chimed in defensively. “Yeah! We called every hotel on this mountain. The absolute cheapest place was charging eight hundred dollars just for a bed! Marsha is the most honest business owner we have met. How dare you call her a scammer?” “Honestly, I think you are the scammer! Are you trying to scare us away so you can steal our rooms?” The seniors quickly piled on, scolding Allee loudly for her rudeness. Allee, utterly defeated and embarrassed, slinked back to her corner. Just then, the loud, heavy honk of a bus horn echoed from the road outside. The six o’clock shuttle had arrived. Allee practically lunged for her suitcase, treating the bus like a rescue helicopter. She screamed at her team. “The bus is here! Hurry! Let’s get out of this miserable hellhole!” The employees grabbed their luggage and sprinted frantically out of the lobby, following Allee into the humid evening air. They sprinted toward the open doors of the bus. But the moment they looked inside, they froze in absolute horror.

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1 The family trust had a strict rule: I could only claim outright control of thirty percent of the company if I gave birth to an heir with the Savage family bloodline. So, when the fertility clinic nurse told me it was time for the embryo transfer, my heart swelled with anticipation. “Just to confirm, you’re using my husband, Julian Savage’s, cryopreserved sperm, right?” I asked the nurse. She flipped through my authorized, encrypted file, and a strange expression crossed her face. “Ms. Lane, the records indicate Mr. Savage suffers from congenital azoospermia,” she informed me. “The male donor listed for this successfully cultured embryo is named David Savage,” she added. A cold dread seized me. I snatched the medical report Julian had brought home earlier and bolted towards the lab. The chief simply glanced at the official seal on the report and snorted. “This looks like it was printed at some street-side shop. They even got our hospital’s name wrong,” the chief said dismissively. It turned out my husband, who was infertile, had swapped his sperm with that of his brother, a convicted felon, during the IVF process, all to use me to secure the family fortune. Before I left, the chief pulled out a thick registry. “Given your Black Diamond VIP status, if you require a new match for top-tier genetics,” the chief told me. “We have a selection of premium, anonymous donors – Ivy League athletes, no less. We can arrange for extraction tonight,” he added. … I didn’t hesitate. My pen tip pierced the final page of the confidentiality agreement as I signed. The chief adjusted his glasses, then placed the agreement into a safe. “Ms. Lane, expedited cultivation will take at least three days.” “On the day of the transfer, three days from now, I’ll personally perform the procedure.” I nodded, clutching that fake medical report as I walked out of the lab. The sterile scent of the hospital churned my stomach, making me feel nauseous. My gaze fell upon the glaring “Excellent Sperm Motility” emblazoned on the report, despite the misspelled hospital name. I silently repeated Julian Savage’s name, my nails digging deep into my palms. For three years of marriage, he woke up early to make me traditional tonics, and no matter how busy his business trips were, he’d always video call to say goodnight. Last year, when my routine check-up showed a thin uterine lining, he held me and cried all night. He said, “Don’t be scared, darling. We’ll do IVF, and I’ll be there for every injection.” Every single shot, he’d pushed the plunger himself. But while the medicine in those syringes was real, the report he handed me was a lie. He had no sperm at all. From start to finish, the sperm he put into the culture dish was never his. It was the seed of his brother, David, a rapist who’d just been released after five years in prison. I spent ten minutes throwing up in the hospital parking lot, emptying my stomach of acid before I could start the car. Back at the villa, Julian emerged from the kitchen, carrying a steaming pot of black chicken soup. “Darling, you’re back? Come here, it’s freshly made. Drink it while it’s hot.” He placed the soup in front of me, blew on a spoonful, and offered it to my lips. Three hours ago, I would have thought there was no better husband in the world. I stared at the pot of soup, and my stomach started to churn again. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?” Julian reached out to touch my forehead, but I leaned back, dodging his hand. I pulled the fake report from my bag and slapped it across his face. The paper grazed his nose and fell to the floor. “Julian Savage, you’re infertile.” His hand, which had been holding the soup, froze. Then, a look of wounded innocence replaced his surprise. “You went and checked?” He set the soup pot down, his voice dropping. “Elara, listen, I can explain…” “The sperm in that culture dish belongs to David Savage.” I stared at him, enunciating each word. “Your brother. The one convicted of rape, sentenced to five years, and just released last month.” The living room fell silent. Julian closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his face was utterly cold. He stepped forward, his arms encircling my shoulders, pinning me against him with such force my ribs ached. “Do you know what being infertile means to a man?” he whispered against my ear. “I’ve suffered for eight whole years.” “I can’t give you a child, but David is my brother. His blood is Savage blood.” “You know the trust fund’s terms… it has to be Savage blood to get that thirty percent controlling interest.” “This is for our future, don’t you understand?” His voice choked when he said “for our future,” making him sound like the injured party. A chill ran through me, sending shivers down my spine. “You let a rapist’s sperm into my body, and you tell me it’s for our future?” “That’s your brother!” I struggled, pushing against him. “He served five years because he dragged a college girl into an alley! And you dare put his genes inside me?!” Julian’s face darkened completely. He released me, took a step back, picked up the fake report, and folded it into his pocket. “Whose sperm it is doesn’t matter.” “It’ll be born, carry the Savage name, and call me Dad.” “Who outside will ever know?” “Once we get the controlling interest, you’ll be the biggest contributor to the Savage family.” He stared at me intently, and I looked up and slapped him. As my palm connected, his hand shot up. He twisted my wrist outwards, and I gasped in pain, breaking out in a cold sweat. “You’d better think twice before you lay a hand on me.” He looked down at me, a smirk playing on his lips. Just then, the front door of the villa was pushed open, and a pungent, foul smell wafted in. David Savage stood in the doorway, clutching a duffel bag, a scar visible on his shaved head. He surveyed the room, grinning, his yellowed teeth showing. His gaze swept from my face, to my chest, then to my belly. “Hey there, sis,” he mumbled, a cigarette dangling from his lips, his face plastered with a smirk. “From now on, I’m the kid’s daddy. You better treat me right.” That night, I packed my suitcase, but before I could take three steps, Julian kicked the bag over from behind me. “Where are you going?” “Divorce.” “Divorce?” He chuckled. “Try it.” “The trust fund clearly states that the controlling interest can only be activated if a Savage bloodline heir is born during the marriage.” “If you leave, the Savage family gets nothing. Do you really think the old man will let you off the hook?” I bit my lip, silent, because he was telling the truth. Old Mr. Savage was eighty-seven, hooked up to tubes in the ICU. The trust fund terms were set by him, and no one could change them. Julian crouched down and pulled the suitcase back to the entryway, his tone softening. “Don’t make a fuss, David’s just staying for a few days.” “He’ll leave after the transfer.” “I’ll have the housekeeper prepare the nearest guest room for him.” The nearest guest room was right next to our master bedroom. I watched David, cigarette in mouth, walk in and drop his duffel bag. A few faded briefs and a pair of slippers tumbled out. He turned back and winked at me. I triple-locked the master bedroom door. The next morning, I went to the balcony to collect laundry, my hand freezing mid-reach. A section of the clothesline was empty; my underwear was gone. The guest room door next door was ajar. David lay on the bed, clutching a wad of black fabric to his nose, humming with his eyes closed. My stomach lurched. I rushed over, snatching it away, my nails scratching his hand. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” David wasn’t flustered. He licked the scratched wound. “Sis, you’re feisty, huh? The kid’s gonna have your temper.” “Don’t be shy, we’ll be family soon…” I grabbed the ashtray from the bedside table and hurled it. He dodged, and the ashtray hit the wall. “Spirited, I like it.” I ran back to my room, slammed the door, and sank to the floor, hugging my knees, trembling. My phone vibrated. An encrypted text from the hospital chief. [Embryo expedited cultivation in progress, estimated completion in three days. Will coordinate with original transfer surgery for replacement. Please ensure enough time is bought.] Just three more days. Dinner was served. David pulled out his chopsticks, sucked on them, then stirred them into the braised ribs. He picked out the largest piece, bit into it, and spat it back onto the plate. “Too fatty, don’t like it.” He pushed the bitten rib towards me. “Sis, you eat it.” I averted my gaze. Under the table, his foot brushed against my calf. His toenails were caked with black dirt. I shot up, bracing my hands on the table, flipping the entire thing over. Bowls and plates shattered everywhere, and a rib rolled onto Julian’s shoe. David froze. Julian stepped forward and slapped me. I stumbled sideways, crashing into a dining chair and falling. The back of my head hit the tiled floor. “Elara Lane, what is your problem?!” He grabbed my collar, pulling me up. “David is my brother, aren’t you his elder sister-in-law? You have no decency!” My head spun, and a metallic taste of blood filled my throat. “He was touching me under the table…” “Bullshit!” He shoved me back forcefully. My heel landed on a shard of broken porcelain. The shard pierced my skin, and I gasped in pain. Julian gestured to the bodyguards behind him. Two bodyguards stepped forward, grabbed my shoulders, and forced me to my knees on the shattered porcelain. “Apologize.” Julian pointed to David, who was slumped in a chair. “Say sorry to David.” The porcelain shards dug into my knees, drawing blood. David, picking his teeth with a toothpick, crouched down, pinching my chin to lift my face. “Come on, sis, I’m waiting.” I closed my eyes, forcing three words through gritted teeth. “…I’m sorry.” As night fell, I curled up in the master bedroom bed, my palms and knees throbbing, a fever of 102 degrees raging through me. Footsteps echoed in the hallway, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning. Someone was trying my door, and I jolted upright, my pajamas soaked in cold sweat. The doorknob pressed down, then sprung back as the latch held. David’s muffled laughter drifted from outside the door. “Sis, why’d you lock it so tight… I just wanted to see if you were asleep.” I leaped out of bed, barefoot, and dragged the bedside table to brace against the door. The fever made my vision swim, flashing back to three years ago. Julian had also chased after me when I had a high fever. He’d watched over me all night in my cramped apartment, wiping my forehead repeatedly. At dawn, I saw him dozing by the bed, a thermometer clutched in his hand. Outside, a violent prying sound, then the door was kicked open. The door panel cracked at the hinges, and the bedside table was shoved back half a yard. David stood in the doorway, reeking of alcohol and sweat, his eyes bloodshot. He stared at me, breathing heavily, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Sis, why go through all this trouble?” He lunged, pinning me to the mattress, grabbing my nightgown collar and tugging it down. “You’re going to carry my kid anyway…” “Why not just make it real tonight and save yourself the needles at the hospital!” The overpowering smell of alcohol hit my face. I struggled desperately, turning my head, my right hand scrambling across the bedside table. My fingertips brushed against the marble base of a lamp. I gripped the lamp’s metal rod, closed my eyes, and brought it crashing down on his head.

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1 After three months in the asylum, Leo finally came for me. He stood in the sunlight, looking at me like a conqueror, his voice full of contempt. “Whitney, have you finally understood? I only made a mistake any man could make. It was not illegal, and it is not for you to judge. Accept it, and you remain Mrs. Moy. If not, we divorce.” I studied his face, so familiar yet now a stranger. I remembered waking in the hospital three months earlier, after a failed suicide attempt, only to see my husband, Leo Moy, who was supposed to be dead. Casually, he told me that three years ago, another woman, Chloe, was pregnant, and her child needed a father. So he faked his death and left me. Now that the child was older, he saw no reason to keep hiding it. He even suggested Chloe and I could coexist peacefully. He would spend half the week with each of us. His words cut like knives over the scars covering my body, wounds I had made while grieving him. It turned all that pain into a cruel joke. I lost my mind, screaming hysterically, demanding to know why. He just had me sent to the asylum. Now, facing this cold, ruthless man, I stayed quiet a long time. Finally, I replied calmly, “Alright. Let us get divorced.” The air hung still for a moment. A flicker of clear astonishment crossed Leo’s eyes. But just as quickly, he scoffed. “What, three months in the asylum, and now you’ve learned to play hard to get?” “Whitney Robinson, you’ve tried to kill yourself so many times for me over the years, loved me so much you’d throw your life away. There’s no way you’d be willing to divorce me!” “Cut the mind games. I’m not falling for it.” Gazing at the indifference on his face, I unconsciously curled my fingers. Yes, I had, indeed, loved Leo with my life. So much so that three years ago, upon learning he’d accidentally fallen into the sea and died while preparing a surprise for me, I immediately wanted to jump in and join him. If friends hadn’t stopped me, I would probably be dead already. From then on, every day was an endless agony. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, and cried constantly. Before long, I developed severe depression, attempting suicide nineteen times. It was precisely because of this that I had completely broken down when I discovered everything had just been an elaborate lie he’d orchestrated for Chloe. But now… all the hurt and resentment had turned to numbness. “I’m not kidding, Leo. I’m tired. Let’s get divorced.” I repeated, my voice flat. The next second, Leo’s face darkened. He grabbed my wrist and practically shoved me into the passenger seat. He leaned over me, forcing me to meet his eyes. “Whitney, how much longer are you going to make a scene? Yes, I lied to you.” “But I compensated you, didn’t I?!” “Money, companionship—whatever you want, I can give it to you. Why can’t you just be obedient like Chloe?” With that, he pinched my chin and brutally kissed me. The next second, I smelled a sweet, cloying, girlish scent in the car that wasn’t mine, and my stomach churned. I couldn’t help but vomit. Leo’s face twisted. “Whitney Robinson, are you really disgusted by me?” I wiped my mouth expressionlessly, offering no reply. But my calm demeanor only seemed to sting Leo more. He sneered, his tone suddenly sharper. “Don’t put on an act, Whitney. Three months ago, you were practically dying of jealousy because I pampered Chloe.” “Now you’re playing the heartbroken role, for who? You just want to force me to comfort you!” I paused, remembering three months ago, the day Leo first confessed everything to me. At the time, he completely ignored my pale face, ordering bodyguards to restrain my frantic struggles, and casually said, “Whitney, the reason I was late to our wedding registration was not because I worked late, but because the night before, I’d been with Chloe seven times.” “That day you went to try on your wedding dress, I made an excuse about company business, but actually, I was in the underground parking lot, making love with Chloe.” “You’re too rigid and boring, but Chloe is different. She’s vibrant, uninhibited. I really like that.” “These past three years away from you, every single day has been incredibly easy.” I felt as if my throat was stuffed with cotton, choking me. My eyes bloodshot, I asked him why he suddenly decided to tell me the truth. He said, “Because I’m tired. Why can’t I openly dote on the woman I like?” “I’ve accommodated your feelings for three years. Now, it’s your turn to be considerate of me, isn’t it?” I stumbled back several steps. He faked his death, tricked me, caused me to attempt suicide nineteen times, making me live like a zombie, and he called that accommodating my feelings? In that moment, all my rationality collapsed. I cursed Leo wildly, wishing him a terrible end, demanding he pay the price. But he, without mercy, locked me in the asylum, telling me to reflect. During those three months of darkness, I went from madness to dead calm, thought a lot, and let go of a lot. Perhaps promises really only count when love is present. I was tired; I wanted to let him go, and let myself go too. “Leo, I’m not acting.” I pushed Leo off me, my voice calm and firm. “Since you love her so much, I’m willing to step aside and give the woman you love a proper place.” “Once the divorce papers are drafted, send them to me.” Leo’s face was as dark as a brewing storm. He stared intently at me, as if searching for a hint of bluff on my face. But I remained perfectly calm, as if I no longer cared what he did. “Whitney…” Leo gritted his teeth, forcing a sarcastic smile. “You don’t really think your life will be better after we divorce, do you?” “Don’t forget you had a miscarriage and lost your ability to have children. Who else would want you besides me?!” Hearing that last sentence, my heart jolted, and I looked up, disbelieving. Years ago, Leo’s startup failed, leaving him deeply in debt. One day, when he wasn’t home, debt collectors came to our door. Unable to find him, they took their frustration out on me. They tormented me for an entire day and night, and the baby in my womb turned into a pool of blood. From then on, I lost my ability to conceive. I was afraid Leo would feel guilty, so I never told him the truth, only saying that the stress from work was too much, and I couldn’t save the baby. At the time, Leo’s eyes were red with pain, and he swore to God he would take care of me for the rest of his life. But now, he was using my most painful nightmare to threaten me! Seeing my body tremble slightly, Leo mistakenly thought I was giving in. He lit a cigarette with a light laugh. “Actually, the reason I got together with Chloe was also because I saw how healthy she was, and that she could have my children.” “Whitney, since you can’t have children, you can’t expect me to let the Moy family line end, can you?” “Alright, stop making a fuss. It’s Chloe’s birthday today anyway. I’ll take you to meet her. You need to get along peacefully with her from now on.” With that, he didn’t wait for my response, and sped off to a nightclub. The moment I pushed open the private room door, countless gazes landed on me. Those men who had once universally comforted me over Leo’s “death” now wore sneering expressions. “Oh, isn’t it our most devoted Mrs. Moy!” “Hahaha, Leo, you’re something else! To have your wife so devoted she tried to kill herself so many times!” “She’s more loyal than my dog, Leo, how did you train her?” They uttered one humiliating remark after another, making me feel like a self-pitying clown. Leo, meanwhile, wore a faint smirk of triumph, never saying a word in my defense. My face grew increasingly pale. Just as I was about to speak, the private room door opened again. A young, beautiful woman walked in, accompanied by a small boy, three or four years old. It was Chloe. The moment I saw her face, the suppressed hatred surged within me. Years ago, it was Chloe’s mother who had climbed into my father’s bed, driving my own mother to a stroke. From then on, I was a child without a father, tormented and bullied at school. I mean, more than Julian’s infidelity, what I truly couldn’t accept was why his mistress had to be Chloe! At first, he had cursed Chloe with the most venomous words, again and again, for me. He had punished her time and again for my sake. But why, then, did he fake his death to deceive me for three years for her, and even have a child with her? “Whitney, long time no see.” Chloe met my hateful gaze, smiling sweetly as she offered me a glass of wine. “The grudges from back then are water under the bridge. Now we’re all Leo’s women. How about we bury the hatchet with a toast?” She spoke with an air of graciousness, as if there had never been any animosity between us. But the next second, I fiercely splashed the wine in her face! “Chloe, you and your mother are nothing but home-wrecking sluts!” “I will never forgive you!” “Ah—!” Chloe shrieked, the red wine streaming down her hair, her eyes instantly burning with anger. The little boy beside her began to cry, rushing over to hit me, calling me a bad woman for bullying his mommy. Everything happened so fast. By the time Leo snapped out of it, Chloe was already clinging to him, looking utterly pathetic. “Leo, it’s my birthday today! Whitney is humiliating me like this, aren’t you going to stand up for me?” “Waaah, are you just going to abandon me and our son now that she’s back…?” Leo sighed, quickly hugging her and gently comforting her. Then he turned to me, his face thunderous. “Whitney, you’ve gone too far.” “Apologize to Chloe, now!” I scoffed. “Apologize to a home-wrecker? Never!” “Leo, I told you, I agree to the divorce. Aren’t you helplessly in love with her? So what are you hesitating for?!” I don’t know which words struck a nerve with Leo, but his expression instantly darkened. To my disbelief, he said coldly, “Whitney, it seems I’ve indulged you too much.” “Don’t forget, your mother is still in a hospital under the Moy Group!” My head snapped up, my eyes wide with shock. I never expected Leo to use my mother’s life to pressure me for Chloe’s sake! In that moment, my palms turned icy cold. I could barely connect the cold-faced man before me with the Leo I remembered! Leo and I both came from single-parent homes. His father, like mine, had an affair. More unfortunately than me, his mother committed suicide because she couldn’t cope with the shock. In the beginning, we supported and encouraged each other. After we got together, he was so good to me he’d spend ninety-nine out of a hundred bucks on me. Even if he was suffering from heatstroke, he’d save on air conditioning costs to buy me gifts. When I was sick, he’d carry me on his back for ten kilometers through heavy snow to the hospital. Back then, we huddled in a cheap rental, believing love could conquer all. But when exactly did he become so utterly unrecognizable? “Leo…” With my mother’s safety at stake, I ultimately compromised, tears in my eyes, and apologized to Chloe. But she said I wasn’t sincere, demanding I kneel and kowtow to her. At this, even Leo hesitated, his tone growing a little stern. “This is a bit much, Chloe, it’s not necessary.” Chloe’s eyes welled up. “Leo, do you really think I’m the kind of person who’d deliberately make things difficult for her?” “I’m actually just trying to stand up for you!” Chloe said, pulling a stack of photos from her bag and fiercely flinging them at my face. “Leo, I already found out. In those three years you faked your death, Whitney couldn’t stand the loneliness and was messing around with other men!” “She’s not that devoted at all. She’s just a cheap slut who sleeps with anyone!” I froze, looking at the photos. The next second, my pupils constricted, and a chill spread through me! Those were… photos of me being insulted repeatedly by Julian’s debt collectors, years ago! Where did Chloe get them?! “Leo, it’s not like that…” I instinctively started to explain, but before I could finish, a heavy slap landed on my face! “Whitney Robinson!” Leo’s eyes were bloodshot, his body trembling. He looked at me with utter disappointment. “Aren’t you cheap, aren’t you disgusting? Only three years, and you’ve already betrayed me?” “Even though I wasn’t there for you during those three years, I never left you wanting for food or clothes. Were you really that lonely?!” I fell to the ground from his blow, blood oozing from the corner of my mouth, yet I couldn’t help but feel a pang of irony. How dare Leo, a man who had cheated countless times, still put on such a victimized act? I spat out a mouthful of blood, my suppressed emotions bursting forth like a broken dam. “Leo, you call me disgusting, but what about you?” “When you were reveling with Chloe, why didn’t you feel disgusted? You and your father, both of you are scumbags!” With a crash, Leo furiously smashed a dozen beer bottles on the table. He ordered someone to pin me down on the broken glass. Looking at the blood seeping from my knees, a twisted smile appeared on his face. “Whitney Robinson, since you’re so stubborn, then stay on your knees until you understand your mistake!” Excruciating pain flared. My face was ashen, but I gritted my teeth, not uttering a word. Chloe watched my pathetic state, her eyes full of amusement. She leaned over, whispering so only we could hear, “Whitney, your mother couldn’t beat my mother back then, and you’re no match for me now.” “Don’t worry, it won’t be long before I take everything from you, and make you…” “Regret fighting me!” With that, she pressed down hard on me. Sharp shards of glass instantly pierced my knees. I couldn’t hold back any longer. I screamed and then passed out from the pain. In a daze, I felt like I was dreaming. I dreamt I was back to the best days of my relationship with Leo. He said he would love me forever, never leave me. But the next second, as the dream faded, a cold voice echoed in my ear. “Whitney, sign the divorce papers.” I turned blankly, seeing Leo looking down at me, his eyes full of disgust. “Someone as filthy as you doesn’t deserve to be my wife.” “I’ll give you five million. Take that money and get out of my sight forever!” I gave a sarcastic laugh. Without hesitation, I picked up the pen and signed. I didn’t say a single extra word. Seeing my decisive action, Leo was stunned. He frowned, about to say something more, but then he saw me turn and leave the hospital room. I arranged for my mother’s transfer to another hospital. Since I was divorced from Leo, staying in a Moy Group hospital was no longer an option. But while I was doing the paperwork, a panicked nurse suddenly found me. “Ms. Robinson, your mother’s condition has suddenly worsened, it’s very critical!” I was startled, forgetting all my sadness, and rushed to my mother’s hospital room. But there, I saw Chloe, smiling, in my mother’s room! My mother’s eyes were wide, her breathing rapid, her face deathly pale. It looked as if she could pass away at any moment! “Chloe! What did you do to my mother?!” Chloe still wore that repulsive smile, slowly saying, “Nothing much, really. Just showed the old hag some… unflattering photos of you.” “And I told her, I’d post those photos online, so everyone would know…” “That her daughter, like her, was abandoned by a man, a promiscuous bitch!” “Chloe!” My eyes burned with fury, my body trembling, rage consuming all my rationality. I didn’t care about anything else. I lunged, straddling her, desperately hitting and scratching her. “Ah! Help, Leo, save me! Whitney is trying to kill me!” Chloe’s hysterical screams indeed drew Leo. Seeing this scene, Leo’s face instantly changed. He violently pushed me off Chloe. “Whitney Robinson!” He shielded Chloe behind him, glaring at me with furious eyes. “I knew it! You were just faking being calm, you never wanted the divorce at all!” “But Chloe is innocent! Take out your anger on me, why are you bullying her?!” “Get this straight, I will never be with a vicious, promiscuous woman like you!” I was so angry I could barely speak. Seeing my mother’s condition grow increasingly unstable, I didn’t bother to argue, frantically shouting, “Leo, my mom is dying! Call a doctor for her now—!” “Stop pretending!” Leo coldly cut me off. “You and your mother are cut from the same cloth, both liars. Do you think I’d believe you now?!” “Leo!” I screamed his name hysterically, my voice trembling uncontrollably. “Have you forgotten? When you were homeless, my mom took you in. She treated you like her own son, sewed your clothes, cooked your meals…” “Enough!” “Whitney, I don’t want to see you anymore. From now on, I will not allow any Moy Group doctors to treat your mother!” With that, Leo took Chloe’s hand and strode out. I rushed over, holding my mother’s body, crying and begging doctor after doctor to save her. But they all, constrained by Leo’s orders, refused to intervene. Ultimately, my mother died of an acute heart attack. Before she passed, a single, sorrowful tear fell from the corner of her eye. “Mom!!” I completely broke down, crying myself unconscious. Three days later, I handled all of my mother’s funeral arrangements. Like a zombie, I numbly packed all my belongings. I bought a plane ticket abroad, leaving this city that held all my pain behind. Leo. Love and hate, both too expensive. You don’t deserve either. May we never meet again. … Meanwhile, elsewhere. Leo arrived at a luxuriously appointed club. Ever since his divorce, he’d felt inexplicably agitated. Every time he closed his eyes, he’d recall my desperate expression that day. He found himself drowning his sorrows in alcohol. But just as he was about to down a shot of whiskey, a rough, boastful voice suddenly cut through the air— “You know Ethan Vance, right? The richest man in the capital, CEO Vance?” “I’m not bragging, but when I ran a debt collection agency back in the day, that guy owed a mountain of money!” “And guess how that debt was settled? Hahaha, we slept with his wife to settle it!”

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After the car crash, the two men in my life completely changed. My husband, who used to be utterly cold towards me, actually knelt down in public, desperately begging me not to leave him. My son, who had always been distant, now clung to me all day, demanding hugs and kisses. I was completely bewildered, my legs trapped by one of them, unable to move. Just then, strange words floated before my eyes. Some said I shouldn’t flatter myself, thinking they, father and son, had fallen in love with me. Others explained that their sudden kindness was a ploy, intending to use me as a shield, to die in place of the so-called heroine. Once the villains were dealt with, I, the side character, would be useless, and their family of three could live happily ever after. Seeing these words sent a cold sweat down my spine. I pushed away the two men, one large and one small, who were clinging to my legs. 1 The big one swayed but regained his balance. The small one plopped straight onto the floor, his eyes welling up with tears from the pain. He scrambled up and hugged my leg again, burying his little head into my lap. I froze for a moment. Just now, I’d rolled on the ground while chasing a thief, and my jacket and sweatpants were covered in dust. The smell of sweat hadn’t even faded. Travis used to wrinkle his nose and pull away from my hugs. “Mom, can you please mind your personal hygiene?” “Chloe Hood never smells like this; she’s always sweet and fresh.” Yet now, he was clinging to me, sniffling and whining. “Mom, hug me too, kiss me!” As for Leo, he looked possessed. The man knelt before me, looking up, the bandage on his forehead adding a touch of fragile vulnerability. His eyes were inexplicably red. His fingertips trembled, but paused abruptly just before touching me, as if he were afraid. His murmur was barely audible. “This dream feels so real…” The hospital room door suddenly burst open. “Mr. Thorne’s leg is just scraped; he needs rest. Chloe, you don’t need to worry so much.” Following the voice were Leo’s executive assistant and Chloe Hood. Seeing the man kneeling on the floor, Chloe froze, then glared fiercely at me. “Amy Alexander, have you no shame? I’ve seen plenty of clingy women, but never one as pathetic as you! We’re divorcing, and you’re still harassing Leo?” “You’re nothing but bad luck, you jinxed your whole family, and now you’ve caused Leo’s car crash!” Leo’s gaze suddenly turned dark. “My clinging to my wife is none of your damn business!” Chloe was stunned. Leo had always been incredibly biased towards her and protective of her. But now, he was talking to her in such a tone, in front of everyone. Chloe opened her mouth, but Leo gave her no chance to speak. “My wife letting me kneel is my good fortune.” “By what right do you presume to meddle? My family affairs are not for you to manage!” “Get out!” I nearly jumped out of my skin. Was this still my cold, aloof husband? Last month, Chloe went missing. I was dispatched to find her. When I located her, she was almost harassed by some thugs on the street. Leo held her in his arms, staring coldly at me. “Amy Alexander, I never thought you’d be so malicious. You deliberately delayed your response to target Chloe. You don’t deserve that police uniform.” “If I were you, I’d resign.” … Chloe couldn’t bear it, her eyes misted with tears, and she scurried away. The executive assistant started to follow but stopped short, speaking with a hint of disapproval. “Mr. Thorne, Chloe rushed here without even eating after hearing about your accident.” The assistant’s voice softened noticeably as he uttered “Chloe.” Leo, though still kneeling, his eyes exuded an air of condescending chill. “You’re fired.” The assistant was stunned. He had been with Leo and Chloe for over a decade; the three of them grew up together, practically family. Firing him just like that, for what reason? The comments section exploded. [Is the male lead crazy? He cursed the heroine, fired the male second.] [Oh oh oh, the male lead’s jealousy is palpable even through the screen. The male second has been eyeing the heroine for a long time; the male lead is warning him!] [You’ll be chasing your wife soon, kid. Sentenced to eternal bachelorhood!] [Sigh, he’s putting on a full act. To use the female support as a target to draw out his enemies, the male lead has to cruelly betray his friends and loved one. He’s just trying to protect them, who knows how much pain he’s in right now. My heart aches for the devoted male lead.] 2 I only found out Leo liked Chloe after I married him. We met twice and then hastily married. The first time, his phone was snatched, and I intervened heroically. The next day, he directly crashed my blind date. “Sorry, he’s not good enough for you.” We both got what we needed. I fulfilled my father’s dying wish before he passed, and Leo handled the arranged marriage. Falling for Leo was as easy as breathing. He was wealthy beyond measure, charismatic, strong, and incredibly kind to me. His credit card was always available, and he remembered every casual remark I made. It made me wonder if he secretly had a crush on me. Until Chloe came to tell me. Marrying me was just a spiteful act on his part. After the truth was exposed, Leo stopped pretending to be aloof, revealing his true dark nature. “Anyone could have played this role; did you really think you were special?” Our son, Travis, was similarly close to Chloe. I knew I couldn’t win custody, so I considered getting a divorce, taking some money, and living freely. The first time I brought it up, Leo just scoffed, again and again. “If you leave, where will I find another woman like you?” As he spoke, he suddenly and shamelessly began to undress. I swallowed hard, and the divorce was off. The second time I brought it up, he grabbed Travis and stormed out, which led to the car crash. I thought they still had some feelings for me. But before I could get too invested, the comment section doused me with cold water. It turned out I was just his chosen scapegoat. He had planned everything since the blind date, it was all premeditated. …Damn it, I was manipulated by the system again. 3 Seeing Leo, full of life and not at all like someone who had just barely survived a car crash, I said, “Let’s go, to the registrar’s office now…” Before I could finish, Leo’s eyes rolled back, and he promptly fainted. The doctors frantically wheeled him into the operating room. Only Travis and I were left, staring wide-eyed at each other. He tightly clutched my shirt, as if terrified I’d abandon him at the hospital. Leo’s life or death was none of my concern, but Travis… I sighed, taking him back to my one-bedroom apartment near the police station. The stalls in front of the apartment complex were bustling. Parents and children crowded three deep. The ground was covered with dazzling small toys, and in the furthest corner was a delicate ceramic tiger. Travis stared at the palm-sized tiger, then looked at me, his eyes pitiful. The carnival game vendor saw this and immediately thrust a handful of rings into my hand. “Ten dollars for eight rings, even if you don’t win, it’s fun. Don’t disappoint the kid!” The small tiger was tiny and far away, surrounded by dozens of scattered bamboo rings. Someone complained: “I’ve spent almost two hundred and haven’t even grazed the edge.” The vendor beamed smugly. “This tiger has been here for three days, and no one has…” Before he could finish, a ring I casually tossed landed perfectly around it. The vendor’s face turned green. Travis must have really liked that tiger. His eyes were glued to the toy, following it from the vendor’s hand to mine. I was about to hand it to him. The comments section scoffed. [What kind of street vendor junk would our little Travis like? He’ll take it and throw it away immediately.] [Poor Travis, suffering so much, having to pretend he wants it to play along with the female support. My heart aches for him.] [It’s okay, he’ll just have to tolerate it. For the female support, it’s her last supper!] My hand paused. Travis had already raised his arm high. His wristwatch peeking out from his cuff. It was a birthday gift from Chloe, which he always wore, never taking it off. And the tiger-hooded plush pajamas I had sewn for him by hand? When he received them, he merely frowned slightly, shaking his head and sighing like a miniature adult. “Mom, you don’t need to waste your time on these things anymore.” That pajama set remained tucked away in the deepest part of his wardrobe, never worn. A little girl nearby suddenly burst into tears. “I want the little tiger too!” She tugged at my sleeve, calling me “pretty big sister” over and over. Her mother fussed over her, looking at me apologetically. “I’m so sorry, my daughter was born in the year of the tiger, and it’s her birthday today. Could you possibly give this to her? I’ll pay any price!” Out of the corner of my eye, Travis suddenly tensed up. Rather than being thrown into the trash, it might as well go to someone who genuinely wanted it. I bent down and placed the tiger in the little girl’s arms. “Happy birthday, sweetie.” The soft little girl smiled through her tears, hugging my face and giving me a big kiss. “Thank you, pretty big sister!” Travis’s raised arm slowly lowered. His small hands covered his face, and his shoulders silently trembled. [Why did the female support give the doll to someone else? How malicious, preferring to please a stranger than her own son. Does a mother like that even deserve to live?] [Travis doesn’t care for that junk, it’s a dirty street vendor item, who knows how many germs and viruses are on it.] [Poor Travis, struggling to hold back his laughter, having to play along with the female support.] We walked in silence. Until we were almost at the apartment door. Travis looked up, his head having been down the whole way. His face was streaked with tears. “Mom, are you abandoning me?” 4 I gave Travis a nickname. “Champ.” A gift sent from heaven. But Travis didn’t like me as a mother. He didn’t want the birthday gifts I painstakingly made. He didn’t want me to tuck him into bed at night. He even forbade me from attending parent-teacher conferences. “Aunt Chloe can accompany me just fine; I don’t need you.” The child I had painstakingly given birth to, it turned out, was just like his father, preferring another woman. The thought used to twist my heart, making it hard to breathe, like being wrapped in thick, wet cotton. Now, I could calmly accept it. Love or not, it was all the same. I pursed my lips, about to answer Travis’s question, when the hospital suddenly called. “Your family member ran off! He snuck out even though his leg isn’t healed. If he ends up disabled, we won’t be responsible!” A familiar voice came, limping audibly. “If I don’t run, my wife will run off with someone else.” Leo, with a cast on his leg and leaning on crutches, stood right in front of the apartment building’s entrance. I was surprised. “What are you doing here?” Then it dawned on me. For Chloe, he was even willing to abandon his leg. So devoted. Leo’s brows drooped, his mouth turned downwards, looking exactly like a stray dog kicked out of its home: “Can’t I even go home? You don’t welcome me? Is there a man hidden in the house?” The bathrooms in the villas owned by the Thorne family were bigger than my rented apartment. Refusing to live in a grand villa, he insists on squeezing into a toilet-sized space. Insane. I tried to walk around him. Leo flexibly twisted his body, blocking the only path, and simply sat down on the ground, shamelessly: “My leg hurts, let me go home, or you won’t be able to go home either.” I stared at him in disbelief. How had the once aloof CEO turned into this? The wails of a neighbor echoed down the hallway: “Ugh, I still need to rush to the market for groceries!” “You young couple, mind your manners! Please be kind to us elderly folks!” Leo had no shame, but I did. The moment we entered the apartment, Leo began sniffing around, searching every corner. “I’m checking if there’s a man hiding in the house.” I watched him, speechless, as he sat on the floor, rummaging through the trash can. He pulled out a scarf from it, and directly put it around his neck. That was a scarf I knitted when everyone in the precinct was into knitting. When it was still a half-finished product, Leo saw it and scoffed, “I’m allergic to polyester.” “This thing, like you, is presentable. I wouldn’t wear it.” Now he was checking himself in the mirror, again and again. Large red marks appeared on his neck, but he didn’t even blink. Bathroom, kitchen, living room, he checked each one. I was busy making noodles and didn’t notice him sneaking into the bedroom—he peered under the bed, then finally opened my closet. When I pushed the bedroom door open, I saw his long, slender fingers picking at my underwear. His expression was extremely serious, and I truly thought something major had happened—if his nosebleed hadn’t slowly started to drip. I punched him out of the bedroom. “Pervert!” 5 “Darling, you’re so strong, I’m so happy.” Leo wiped the blood from his nose, his lips curling weakly into a smirk. “Checked, no other men. I knew you still had feelings for me.” His words, ironically, calmed me down. Leo’s uncharacteristic clowning must be to cover his true intentions. I narrowed my eyes at him: “What exactly do you want?” Leo was unyielding: “I want to apologize to you. I was an ass before, I know I was wrong, please don’t leave me.” I scoffed. Since he wanted to play a part, I’d play along to the end.

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I secretly started dating my incredibly aloof, strictly-business professor. It was only after we got together that I realized the man was an absolute stage-five clinger. The relationship quickly became a velvet trap I could not escape, no matter how hard I tried. Then an accident wiped his memory. Testing the waters, I leaned in and softly called him “baby” in front of everyone. Instead of melting like he usually did, his face hardened into a scowl. “Miss Lily, there is zero room for negotiation regarding your makeup exam. Do not try to use your personal charm to take shortcuts.” Confirming Professor Stewart Wright had completely forgotten me, I was ecstatic. I practically sprinted to the nearest college bar, ready to mingle and meet some new, hot guys. Just as I was hitting it off with a cute stranger, Stewart suddenly materialized out of nowhere. His face was thunderous, but his voice broke with pure desperation. “There were too many people on campus earlier. I had to act like that. Please, I am begging you, do not get so close to anyone else. Seeing you with him, I feel like I am literally going to die.” 1 The eighth time I tried to break up with Stewart, his eyes immediately welled with tears. This was a man who routinely made grad students cry in his lectures. The sudden shift in power dynamics threw me completely off balance, draining all my aggressive confidence. “Even if you cry, we are done,” I stuttered out, losing my nerve. The man looked even more heartbroken. His thick, dark lashes clumped with moisture as heavy tears rolled down his sharp cheekbones. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face in my chest and rubbing against me like a stray dog. “Baby, sweetie, please do not say those words,” he mumbled against my skin. “My heart literally cannot take it.” Remembering how I always caved in the past, I forced my brain to stop thinking with my hormones. Ignoring his pathetic whimpering, I pulled out the ultimate trump card I learned from late-night soap operas. “Let me go. I am hopelessly in love with someone else.” Stewart gave me a look that said he knew this day would come. The corner of his mouth twitched upward, but the smile was pitch-black. “Who is he? Tell me, who is the man-whore you are seeing behind my back? The senior who carried your books last week, or the jock from the basketball team?” I decided to just roll with the lie, defending this imaginary lover with my chest. “None of your business. Whoever he is, he is better than you.” The man fell silent. His long, elegant fingers slid up my sides like nimble snakes. The cool touch of his skin made me shiver, my lips parting on a soft gasp. Stewart took the opening, crashing his mouth down on mine. His eyes were terrifyingly dark. “It is getting late. There is nothing a good night in bed cannot fix, right?” He kept me awake until two in the morning. By the time I was pulled into his warm chest, I did not even have the energy to curse at him. My eyelids were practically glued shut. His raspy, exhausted voice echoed in my ear. “Lily, abandoning a puppy is illegal, you know.” He reached over, grabbing my phone to toggle off my morning alarm. “I will excuse your morning classes tomorrow.” I had changed my lock screen passcode countless times, but Stewart always managed to unlock it without breaking a sweat. That night, I had a long, fragmented dream, reliving all my failed breakup attempts. Every single time, the man managed to trick, guilt, or seduce me into staying. It all started when my major’s core professor had to travel abroad for a sudden conference. The department was short-staffed, so they specifically invited Stewart, a brilliant research fellow, to sit in on the last lecture to take over the curriculum. I sat a few rows away, completely mistaking him for a student from another class. I was entirely bewitched by his untouchable, icy aura and absolute model-tier face. Right after the lecture ended, I gathered every ounce of liquid courage in my veins and said the words I would regret for the rest of my life. “You are incredibly gorgeous. Can I get your Insta or your number?” Stewart looked at me with cold, unreadable eyes. “I will give it to you tomorrow.” The very next day, my untouchable campus crush walked into the lecture hall in a tailored suit, establishing himself as our new professor. He stopped right in front of my desk, his face blank while my cheeks burned crimson, and pulled up his contact QR code. “Class representative, add me. It will make discussing the coursework easier.” One moment of bravery ruined my life. It was not until much later that I found out Stewart originally showed up that day to reject the teaching offer in person. But he accidentally made eye contact with me while I was openly drooling over him. He changed his mind on the spot and took the job. But finding out my situationship was actually my professor was not even the worst part. Once we started dating in secret, I discovered that beneath his cold, ascetic exterior was an intensely clingy, obsessive boyfriend. Without asking, he bought a luxury townhouse near campus entirely in my name. Once he coaxed me into moving in, he wanted to be glued to my hip twenty-five hours a day. He even insisted on following me into the shower. He forced me to use his black card for everything. One time I accidentally paid for something with my own money, and he sulked for days, constantly asking if I did not need him anymore. Another time, I sneaked out to a frat party without telling him. When I did not reply to his texts for two hours, the maniac almost called the police. When he finally caught me, he carried my drunk body to bed, silently taking off his glasses and his expensive watch. “Baby, liars have to be punished.” Just thinking about it made my throat feel dry and sore. Completely opposite to his pristine, academic vibe, Stewart was an absolute animal behind closed doors. When the resentment finally reached a boiling point, I mustered up my nonexistent courage and dumped him. Except, I just could not shake him off. I slept straight through the afternoon. Waking up, I checked our class group chat and saw an announcement. Professor Wright took a bad fall while hiking in the mountains, so our class was rescheduled. I opened my pinned chats. Stewart’s last text was sent at six in the morning. Because of the fake lover I invented, Stewart insisted on dragging his colleagues on a spiritual hiking retreat to burn some sage and cleanse me of my “toxic karma.” Did he end up cleansing himself off a cliff? What kind of messed-up karma was that? Since I was already committed to breaking up, I hesitated for a second before putting my phone down, refusing to text him back. By evening, news broke that Stewart was discharged from the hospital. The diagnosis stated he suffered head trauma and might experience partial memory loss. But after his family, friends, and colleagues tested him, they realized his brain was perfectly fine. He even scored higher on an IQ test than he did last year. The doctors found absolutely nothing wrong with his body and sent him home. That night, fulfilling my duties as the class rep, I went to his office to drop off the final batch of assignments. I fully expected him to use his injury as an excuse to whine and beg for cuddles. Instead, Stewart barely lifted his eyes from his laptop. His voice was freezing cold. “The grades are already finalized. You can pick up the makeup exam list on Friday.” “Oh,” I nodded, feeling a bizarre knot forming in my stomach. His attitude had completely reverted to the icy, untouchable professor I met on day one. A wild thought struck my brain. What if the memory loss the doctors warned about was specifically about me? Since we kept our relationship strictly underground, nobody else knew we were dating, which was why everyone thought he was fine. To test my theory, I used the noisy chatter of the neighboring cubicles as cover and leaned over his desk, whispering a soft “baby.” This was one of his mandatory conditions for keeping us a secret. Every time I dropped off homework, I had to call him baby before he would let me leave. But this time, Stewart frowned, standing up to look down at me with pure disdain. “Miss Lily, there is absolutely no room for negotiation on your makeup exam.” The surrounding faculty members immediately shot us gossipy glances. After Stewart shot them a warning glare, they scrambled back to their paperwork. As Hollis University’s youngest genius professor, Stewart came from old money. He was notoriously sharp-tongued and unapproachable. Both students and faculty were terrified of him. He lowered his voice, his tone mocking. “You should spend more time studying. Your personal charm will not support you taking these kinds of shortcuts.” It took my brain a second to realize he thought I was trying to seduce him for a better grade. But this proved one thing. He genuinely did not remember me. Because of our secret arrangement, I always kept his contact name saved as something generic. I made him delete our text history daily. Every single couple photo and video we took was locked exclusively in my phone. To him, there was zero trace of our relationship in his life. Did that mean my eighth breakup attempt was a total success? Realizing this, the sting of his insult vanished, replaced by the pure joy of being single again. “You misheard me, Professor. I was just clearing my throat.” Stewart condescended to actually look me in the eye, his dark pupils suddenly shifting with an unreadable emotion. Having explained myself, I spun around and practically skipped out of the office. I did not notice the man staring intensely at my back. He turned to the professor at the next desk, looking genuinely confused. “Why did I agree to teach this basic undergrad class?” The colleague replied nervously, “We have no idea. We all thought you would turn it down. You look terribly pale, Professor Wright. Are you okay?” Stewart kept his voice flat. “I am fine. My heart is just beating too fast. It actually hurts.” “Probably just irritated by that student.” Walking out of the academic building, I immediately texted my best friend Zoe to come over to my place for a massive celebratory feast. Thank god Stewart never let me spend his money because he was terrified I would feel burdened. The luxury townhouse, the credit cards, the sports car in the garage, everything was legally in my name. It took Zoe less than a second to accept the fact that I was a secret millionaire. “Lily, this giant bathtub, these floor-to-ceiling windows. Speaking from ten years of reading romance novels, this place is literally designed for aggressive bedroom activities.” I rubbed my chronically sore lower back and swiftly changed the subject. “I think we should order spicy lemon chicken tonight.” Zoe’s eyes lit up. “Wait, do we have a private chef here too?” I paused, reality hitting me. “I used to. Not anymore.” We ended up ordering a mountain of overpriced takeout. Honestly, it tasted like garbage compared to the meals Stewart used to cook for me. After eating my weight in carbs, I checked my phone and saw a few new messages. It was from Stewart. Professor Wright: [Miss Lily, you left your umbrella in my office. Do you want to come get it?] [I need to lock up.] Half an hour passed before he texted again. Professor Wright: [Miss Lily, who are you eating dinner with? Does it really take this long?] [Whatever. I do not actually care.] [I am working overtime today, so I will be leaving late. Come get it if you have time.] A second before Zoe leaned over to snoop, I frantically changed his contact name back to his formal title. “Since when is Professor Wright such a chatterbox?” Zoe asked, looking completely lost. After dating for so long, switching back to a normal student-teacher dynamic felt incredibly jarring. I typed back a polite response: [Sorry Professor, just saw this. Are you still there? I can come grab it now.] It was almost eleven at night. Stewart usually went back to his private lab or went straight home by now. To my shock, he replied instantly with one word: [Yes.] I stared at the screen, trying to formulate an excuse to grab it tomorrow. Zoe stopped me. “Do not do that, babe. I still have to take his makeup exam. Let us go get it right now. We can bring him a hot coffee to score some brownie points. I will go with you.” I was never good at saying no, so I caved. But the moment we reached his office door, Zoe totally chickened out. “Okay, Lily, just thinking about his scary resting bitch face is making my knees weak. You are the class rep, you go in. Give him the coffee. I will wait out here.” Before I could object, Zoe bolted down the hallway. I pushed the door open. The moment I stepped inside, the lights completely died. The campus power grid had failed again. I fumbled in the pitch black, setting the coffee down on the nearest desk, frantically digging for my phone’s flashlight. Instead, I crashed face-first into a solid wall of muscle. Before I could lose my balance, my hands instinctively wrapped around the person’s waist. Like pure muscle memory, Stewart wrapped his arms around me, pulling me flush against his chest, his lips naturally brushing against the crook of my neck. The movement was so flawless, so deeply ingrained, neither of us even thought about it. When reality finally caught up, Stewart froze completely stiff. Making it a million times worse, the lights snapped back on. We stared at each other. For the first time ever, I saw genuine, raw panic cracking through his usually flawless composure. “Sila… Professor Wright.” I almost dropped his first name. Nobody warned me how violently awkward it was to interact as strangers with someone who knew exactly what you looked like naked. “Apologies,” Stewart said, stepping back rapidly. “That was an accident.” Seeing him treat me like a biohazard triggered a sudden flashback of him acting like a giant, clingy golden retriever, constantly demanding cuddles. It seemed like as long as I did not actively pursue him, his factory-reset personality would ensure our paths never crossed again. This was for the best. Zero risk of repeating my mistakes. I walked over to the corner and grabbed my umbrella. “It is not safe at night,” Stewart said stiffly. “I will walk you back. As your professor, I have a duty of care.” I shook my head, keeping my answers vague. “No need. I live off-campus with someone.” “Who? A guy or a girl?” I blinked, genuinely thinking his memory had just snapped back. Thankfully, his tone flattened out a second later. “You do not have to answer that. I do not make a habit of prying into people’s private lives.” His pink lips moved as he spoke. Even after living with him for months, looking at that face still made my brain short-circuit. Sometimes I really wanted to slap myself for being such a sucker for a pretty face. “Goodbye, Professor.” I practically ran out of the suffocating room. Back in the office, Stewart pulled up his texts with Declan, his childhood best friend and primary doctor. [Why does my chest physically ache the second I look at that student?] Declan: [Then stop looking at her.] [It hurts worse when I am not looking at her.] Declan: [Then look at her more.] Stewart was hovering over the block button, ready to delete this quack from his life. Declan suddenly sent another text: [Bro, do you have a crush on her? Send a pic, let me see this goddess.] Stewart: [You do not deserve to look at her.] Back at the townhouse, Zoe and I curled up on the massive sofa, binging reality TV. I was just internally celebrating how peaceful it was to watch a show without a man biting my neck and demanding attention, when Zoe suddenly jumped up. “Wait, this makes no sense, Lily.” “What is it?” My stomach dropped, terrified she had found some leftover trace of Stewart hiding in the house. “We are practically filthy rich right now. Why are we sitting at home eating takeout and watching TV? We are acting like lottery winners who just bought a thousand boxes of instant ramen.” Zoe wiggled her eyebrows, a wicked grin spreading across her face. “Let us go to a club tomorrow. Find some tragic, broken college boy and buy him an expensive drink.” “I do not know…” I bit my lip, trying to hide my smile. “I guess I should go pick out a cute dress.” Ever since I started dating Stewart, my freedom to look at attractive men was instantly revoked. If I stared at the cute barista at the coffee shop for more than two seconds, he would spiral into a jealous panic. “Baby, do you like younger guys now? I am four years older than you. Do you think I am getting old and ugly?” I would genuinely try to comfort him. “But you are so handsome.” Stewart would immediately turn around, buy a premium membership at a med-spa, and secretly write in his diary: [This face is my only leverage. There are too many man-whores out there trying to steal my wife. I need to keep her on a tighter leash.] When we arrived at the most exclusive club in the city, Zoe pulled out a breath spray. “Want some, babe?” I shook my head immediately. Because I loved strawberries, Stewart exclusively used strawberry-flavored everything. I practically had PTSD whenever I smelled it now. Zoe dragged me through the sweaty crowd straight to the front of the stage to watch the live band. The lead singer had these gorgeous, flirty eyes. He kept looking my way, winking at me throughout the set. When the song ended, the guy unstrapped his guitar and walked straight up to me through the deafening cheers. “You guys sounded great,” I offered awkwardly. “You completely ignored me up there, pretty girl,” he teased, flashing two deep dimples. He had that perfect, golden-retriever boy-next-door energy. It was contagious. I was just about to reply when a heavy, chilling sensation crept down my spine. Turning around, I found Stewart staring at me, his gaze dark and suffocating.

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Seven years into our relationship, Ethan Reed turned our wedding into a divorce ceremony for the third time, making a complete fool of me. This time, I didn’t yell or make a scene. My heart had simply died. Around me, his friends roared with laughter while I stood frozen in the center, my face expressionless. “Haley, why aren’t you laughing? Don’t tell me you’re actually mad?” I said nothing. Gradually, their laughter faded as they exchanged awkward glances. The silence became eerily oppressive. Only then did Ethan press his lips together and step forward to ruffle my hair. “What’s wrong? Haley, are you really angry?” I looked at him, suddenly remembering the conversation I’d overheard last night between him and his friends. “Ethan, aren’t you worried that pulling this stunt will make the Rose of the South actually leave you?” Ethan had answered dismissively, “I promised Vivian I’d mess with Haley three times. After this one’s over, I’ll give Haley a real wedding to make up for it. She’s been with me all these years, after all.” Now, I stared at him quietly and forced my lips into a smile. “A divorce ceremony, right? Let’s continue then.”

“Continue?” Ethan’s casual expression froze, his smile flattening. “Haley Grant, are you serious?” My gaze moved past him to land on the large banner that read “Let’s Get Divorced.” Seven years. Countless moments I’d spent yearning for us to get married, to spend our lives together. But in the end, what I’d been waiting for wasn’t “Let’s get married,” but this absurd prank. The first time I learned Ethan might propose to me, joy and excitement kept me awake all night. When I arrived at the venue in my carefully prepared dress and the curtain was pulled back, my heart shattered along with my hopes. That was the first time I’d ever lost my temper with Ethan like that. He spent a long time trying to calm me down. He promised he’d never pull that kind of joke again. But only three months later, the same thing happened again. That was the second time. The third time is now. My chest felt tight and suffocating. The whole thing seemed pointless. I answered him. “Yes, I’m serious. Let’s finish the ceremony as you wished.” Ethan’s expression darkened completely. He stared at me without speaking. Three seconds later, he suddenly smiled, though his eyes were empty, yet somehow filled with inexplicable anger. “Fine. Then let’s continue.” The crowd that had been mocking me and enjoying the spectacle fell completely silent, standing awkwardly in place. “Did he really screw this up? That shouldn’t happen. Nothing went wrong the first two times, right?” Another girl sneered. “How’s that possible? Everyone knows Haley Grant worships the ground Ethan walks on.” “She was all over him when her family still had money. Now that they’ve fallen, there’s no way she’ll let go.” I looked up at her sharply, my gaze piercing. She immediately fell silent, closing her mouth awkwardly. At that moment, a woman in a red dress stepped forward. “Haley, don’t be angry. I apologize, I…” “What are you apologizing for!” Ethan’s angry voice cut her off as he moved to shield her behind him. I turned to look. It was Vivian Song. Ethan stood between her and me, his voice low and confrontational. “What are you standing around for? Let’s go through with the ceremony.” The guy in charge came up on stage with his script, so embarrassed his scalp was tingling. “Miss Grant, do you willingly separate from Mr. Reed, whether he is rich or poor, with no regrets?” An absurd location, absurd words. And absurd vows that made my chest ache uncontrollably. Ethan stared at me quietly, his thin lips pressed tight, his whole body radiating irritation. “I do,” I said. The moment the words left my mouth, there was a loud bang. Ethan hurled the microphone to the ground, his face dark as he glared at me. “Haley Grant, you’ve gone too far.” I felt drained. An overwhelming bitterness washed over me. “What’s wrong? Isn’t this what you all arranged? How am I going too far by just going along with it?” He was momentarily speechless. He took several deep breaths, then kicked over a flower arrangement at his feet. He stormed off, pulling Vivian Song along with him. The venue fell deathly silent. The background music happened to switch to: “Happy Breakup, I wish you happiness, you’ll find someone better.” Ethan’s friend quickly turned it off, coughing awkwardly. “Um… Haley, this is our fault. Don’t be angry. Ethan didn’t know about this either.” I ignored him. Whether he knew or not didn’t matter to me anymore. I mumbled an acknowledgment and walked down the red carpet off the stage. When I walked out of the hotel, the sky was gray and overcast, rain pouring down. A black Maybach pulled up in front of me. The window rolled down to reveal Vivian Song’s apologetic face. “Haley, get in. We’ll give you a ride.” My gaze moved past her to the man beside her who hadn’t even looked up. I replied flatly. “No need.” I heard the man snort coldly and give a curt order. “Let’s go.” The water splashed up by the car instantly soaked the hem of my dress. I laughed bitterly and pulled out my phone to make a call. “Attorney Chen, the trust fund my father left—the condition for me to inherit it is to go to America to find Grandfather and never return, correct?” “Yes, Miss Grant. Once you land in America, you can apply for the inheritance.” Watching the taillights fade into the distance, I murmured. “Alright. I accept.”

I returned home soaking wet to find the lights blazing inside. Ethan and Vivian Song were just standing there, looking at me. As if I were the one who didn’t belong. “It’s too late. Vivian’s staying at our place tonight. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?” He studied me carefully, his body in a defensive posture. After all, the old Haley Grant, the Rose of the South, would have definitely rushed over and slapped her. But now… I only paused for a second before agreeing casually, “Fine. She can stay as long as she wants.” Before Ethan could furrow his brow, I changed my shoes on my own and headed to the master bathroom to shower. My stomach ached with a dull, sinking pain. When the hot water cascaded down, it was warm, gradually washing away the coldness in my chest. This kind of thing had happened before. The day Vivian Song returned to the country, Ethan had already brought her home. I stood in the living room, staring at the man at the door holding a drunk woman, my mind going blank. “You brought another woman home?” I laughed in disbelief. “Don’t you think you should avoid this kind of thing?” He didn’t even pause. He carried her to the master bedroom and laid her on the bed. My pupils trembled. He turned around on his own and went to the bathroom to wet a hot towel, gently wiping her face. While doing all this, he warned me. “Watch your words.” “Vivian is my childhood friend. She’s going through family troubles right now and feeling down. Stop giving her dirty looks.” I stood in the doorway watching him bustle around, unable to describe what I was feeling. Ethan had severe OCD. He absolutely wouldn’t allow me to come home drunk, reeking of alcohol. Once when I lost control, he had the driver take me to a hotel to book a room. The point was, I wasn’t allowed home. But Vivian Song could break all his rules. My thoughts snapped back as someone knocked on the bathroom door. “Haley, let’s talk after you shower.” The man’s magnetic voice sounded by my ear. I knew this was already him lowering his pride. Still, I didn’t answer. When I came out after showering, he was waiting by the door with a hairdryer in hand. “Sit down. I’ll dry it for you.” I happened to be tired. Why refuse when someone was offering to help? “Let’s just move past what happened today,” his slender fingers threaded through my hair, but they felt cold, icy, “and we’ll make things work.” “Mm, make things work.” Make my own life work. Hearing that, he breathed a sigh of relief, his tense expression gradually relaxing. “Good girl.” In the mirror, I observed those downcast eyes. Ethan had beautiful eyes. When he wasn’t smiling, they were sharp; when he smiled, they curved into crescents. When we first met, I ran into some local thugs at a bar who insisted I go into a private room with them. Back then, before my family’s downfall, I lived like no one in the South dared to cross me, so I hadn’t brought bodyguards. That middle-aged man, emboldened by alcohol, grabbed me by the hair and slapped me hard. “I’m doing you a favor by sleeping with you!” Just as the door was about to close, Ethan appeared. He kicked the man away, then looked down at me with mockery. “You’re usually so arrogant. How are you so pathetic now?” But I wasn’t angry at all. Instead, I fell for him right then. I chased after him for years. The hairdryer stopped, pulling me from my memories. Looking at him again, I realized with surprise that those eyes no longer stirred anything in my heart. “What’s wrong?” Ethan frowned and inexplicably looked away, a heavy feeling settling in his chest. “Nothing.” He was about to say something when the door was pushed open. Vivian Song walked in as naturally as if she belonged there, tugging at the man’s sleeve. “Ethan, can you stay with me?” “You know now that I’m back in England, you’re all I have. I’m a little scared.” Ethan glanced at me, hesitating. “Maybe I shouldn’t. I…” “Go ahead.” He looked at me sharply. Time seemed to freeze for an instant. Then he took a deep breath, as if deliberately trying to upset me. “Fine, then I’ll go stay with her!” I turned around calmly and got into bed on my own. That night, Ethan didn’t come home. And I passed out in my sleep, blood pooling beneath me.

When I woke up again, everything was blindingly white. Ethan sat beside me, hands pressed against his forehead, lost in thought. “What happened to me?” His whole body shuddered. He looked up, his eyes tinged with red. “The baby’s gone. Haley Grant, you were pregnant. Didn’t you know?” My expression froze. I could also hear the accusation in his tone. Just then, the doctor pushed the door open. I asked him, “Why did I miscarry?” He glanced at the medical report. “Habitual miscarriage. Your uterine wall is already very thin, and combined with getting caught in the rain, catching a cold, and developing a fever, miscarriage was inevitable.” Ethan shot to his feet, his eyes trembling. “Habitual miscarriage?” His eyes, filled with a gathering storm, fixed on me. “Haley Grant! Don’t you need to explain this to me?!” The doctor, sensing trouble, quickly distanced himself from the brewing conflict. I looked down, my fingers brushing over my stomach. My chest felt like it was being sliced with a small knife, sharp and painful. When I looked up, my gaze held a trace of hatred. “Explain what? The first baby—you personally had it aborted. The second one was drugged away by your mother.” “Did you think you hid it so well?” “Now, what right do you have to demand an explanation from me?!” His hands clenched into fists. The hospital room fell deathly silent, filled only with the man’s ragged breathing. “You… when did you find out?” “I knew from the very beginning.” When I miscarried the first time, we’d just gotten together. That day, I drank a glass of milk and felt dizzy and faint. Perhaps the dosage wasn’t enough, because my consciousness didn’t fade immediately. I heard the conversation between him and his mother. “Ethan, we can’t keep this baby. We need to devour the remaining shares of the Grant family. We can’t have this kind of complication now.” The man was silent for two seconds, his voice hoarse. “Alright, I understand.” He asked, “Will this abortion pill affect her body badly?” “Not much,” his mother said suspiciously. “Ethan, Vivian’s coming back soon. What are you planning to do? Mom knows you can’t let her go.” For a long time, he didn’t answer. He didn’t deny it either. I kept my eyes tightly shut. I wanted to cry, to confront him, but I couldn’t do either. When I woke up, perhaps out of guilt, Ethan stayed by my side constantly. “We’ll have more children in the future,” he promised. But I kept losing one child after another. My thoughts returned to the present. After I finished speaking, Ethan suddenly looked lost. “Haley, I…” His explanation was interrupted by someone pushing the door open. “Haley, I heard you had a miscarriage. I came to see you.” I collected my emotions and looked up. “Get out.” Vivian Song’s expression stiffened. She hadn’t expected me to be so blunt, leaving her unable to save face. She hesitated in the doorway, neither entering nor leaving. “Haley.” The man’s displeased voice carried a warning, as if his earlier guilt had been just an illusion. I suddenly felt powerless, my spine sagging. “I need to rest. Please leave.” I looked at the man with his brows knitted tight. “Is this attitude satisfactory?” Ethan opened his mouth, wanting to say something but unable to get the words out. Finally, he could only forcefully ignore the unease in his heart. He stepped forward and hugged me. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault. Haley, when you’re discharged, I’ll officially hold a real wedding for you, okay?” “I’ll make up for everything I owe you.” “Three days from now, okay? I’ll prepare everything. I’ll compensate you properly.” My heart felt nothing. He didn’t wait for me to nod in agreement either. As if afraid of hearing me mock him, he pulled Vivian Song along and left. My phone chimed. It was a text from Attorney Chen. “Miss Grant, due to the typhoon, the earliest flight is at noon three days from now.” “I’ve already booked your ticket. Someone will pick you up in America.” My fingers landed on the screen, typing as if I’d been set free. “Alright. I’ll be there on time.”

That evening, Ethan brought me home. “Drink some hot water.” He sat down beside me, concern seemingly overflowing from his eyes. If only Vivian Song weren’t there. I found it absurd. He went to the balcony to take a call. I don’t know what the person on the other end said, but he glanced at me. That’s when Vivian Song spoke up. “Still not leaving him?” I looked up at her. Her eyes were mocking. “Honestly, I’ve never seen anyone debase themselves more than you.” “You should know he’s loved me from the very beginning. Even those three times he humiliated you were just because I asked him to.” Hearing that, I found it laughable. “And what about you? No matter who Ethan loves, at least he and I have a marriage certificate.” “What gives you the right to lord it over me?” Vivian Song raised an eyebrow and suddenly laughed out loud. I was confused. But I had an ominous feeling. She glanced at the man on the balcony with his back to us, then suddenly leaned close to my ear. “So you still don’t know.” My lips flattened. My fingers unconsciously tightened on my sleeve. “Know what?” She said softly, yet her words landed like a crushing blow. “Your marriage certificate is fake. It was just something Ethan used to placate you.” “What did you say?” My voice was hoarse. Vivian Song pulled out her phone, opened the marriage registry system, and checked her marital status. Then she held it in front of my face with cold mockery. “Open your eyes wide and look.” My stiff gaze turned toward it. In the spouse column, it clearly showed: Ethan Reed! My mind went blank. Everything was so absurd I couldn’t accept it. My eyes glazed over. I turned around and looked at the man on the balcony, suddenly laughing bitterly. “So it was all fake.” Soon after, he hung up and came back inside. Seeing my expression, he frowned and reached up to touch my forehead. “What’s wrong? Still not feeling well? Why is your face so pale?” I instinctively stepped back. His hand hung in the air. Ethan’s fingers froze. “Rest well. The wedding is in three days.” Three days later, early in the morning, Ethan wheeled a wedding dress into the master bedroom, gently ruffling my hair. “Take a look at the dress first. It’s too heavy, so you’ll put it on at the banquet hall. We’ll go together.” I turned my face away, avoiding his touch. “I’m not feeling well. You go ahead.” He hesitated for a moment but nodded. “Alright. The ceremony officially starts at noon.” Watching his retreating figure, my eyes were full of mockery. I tore up all the photos of us in the house, scattering them everywhere. Thinking of the gift I’d prepared for him at the wedding venue, I laughed coldly. After venting, I removed my SIM card and left without looking back. At the same time, at the wedding venue, Ethan’s mother looked extremely displeased. “Son, what were you thinking? Are you really holding a wedding with her and spending your life together?” “What about Vivian?” Ethan’s heart felt inexplicably heavy, as if something was suspended high above, unable to settle. “Yeah, it’s decided. I’ll make things work with Haley. As for the marriage certificate issue, I’ll handle it without her knowing.” He glanced at the time and asked his assistant. “Go check if Mrs. Reed has arrived yet.” The assistant was about to turn around when the hotel manager burst in, face pale and gasping for breath. “Mr. Reed, something’s happened…” Ethan’s heart sank, his expression instantly darkening like storm clouds. “Speak clearly!” The manager’s voice trembled with fear. “The bridal dressing room… You’d better go see for yourself…” Ethan’s eyes shook. His usually composed face now looked like a storm was approaching. He rushed out and pushed the door open with trembling hands. When he saw what was before him, his breathing stopped.

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When Ethan came home after his night shift, I set his favorite pasta on the table. I wanted to tell him that my mom had finally agreed to let us get married. But he tossed his car keys on the table and said wearily, “I got married.” “What?” I was confused. “I married one of the new nurses. She’s pregnant. I have to take responsibility for her.” My voice trembled. “Then what were these eight years I spent with you?” Ethan looked up at me and actually smiled. “As long as you’re willing, we can still be family.” I didn’t cry. I just picked up that bowl of pasta, walked to the kitchen, and dumped it in the trash. Ethan frowned. “Sophia, I just worked an all-night shift. I hate it when you give me the silent treatment like this.” I turned to look at him. “When did you two get the marriage license?” He rubbed his temples. “Yesterday at noon.” “Tara finished her night shift. City Hall wasn’t busy, so we just stopped by.” Just stopped by. Yesterday at noon, I was with my mom for her dialysis evaluation. She lay in the hospital bed, gripping my hand, saying, “Sophia, I’ve thought it through. If you’re really set on Ethan, then marry him.” I almost cried right then and immediately sent Ethan a message: “My mom agreed to let us get married.” He didn’t reply. Turns out he was at City Hall taking wedding photos with another woman. I asked, “Does she know about me?” Ethan was silent for two seconds. “Yes. She doesn’t mind. She’s young and insecure. She cried and said she didn’t want a wedding ceremony, just wanted to legally stand by my side.” I laughed. “Then after eight years with you, where am I supposed to stand?” Ethan looked up at me. “Sophia, you haven’t lost out these eight years. You’ve been living in my house rent-free.” I finally understood. His so-called compensation was letting me continue living here. Continue cleaning up after him, continue taking care of him. Just with my status changed from girlfriend to housekeeper. I went into the bedroom to pack my things. When I opened the closet, my hand froze. There was a row of unfamiliar women’s clothes inside. Pink sweaters, dresses, a nurse’s jacket. In the shoe cabinet was a pair of white sneakers. On the bathroom counter was a new bottle of face wash. On the nightstand was a thin hair tie. I picked it up and asked him, “She’s moving in?” Ethan stood in the doorway and said: “Tara can’t sleep alone in the dorm.” “So she’s sleeping in my bed from now on?” I took off the ring he’d given me and placed it on the table. It was a silver ring he’d bought the year he finished his hospital internship. He said once he became a doctor, he’d replace it with a diamond ring. Later, when he became a doctor, he said he’d buy me a ring after he bought a house. But now, he was married. I pulled out my suitcase. Ethan suddenly panicked. He wrapped his arms around me from behind. “Sophia, I don’t want to lose you. I’m just settling Tara in first. She can’t live without me. You’re different. You’re mature. You understand me.” Being held by him, I only felt nauseous. The doorbell rang. Tara stood at the door, her face small, her eyes red. She was wearing a men’s jacket. The one I’d waited in line for two hours to buy for Ethan last winter. “Ethan, I came to get my marriage certificate.” Then she looked at me and smiled. “Sophia, you’re here too.” I said nothing. She walked straight into the bedroom like she owned the place and opened my nightstand drawer. The marriage certificate was pressed under an old photo album. On top of the album was a letter. A letter my mom had written to Ethan. She’d just finished writing it yesterday and asked me to deliver it. The first line on the paper read: “Ethan, I’m entrusting Sophia to you from now on.” Tara picked up the letter and blinked. “Is this from your mom to you two? Sorry, should I not be reading this?” I reached out to take it. But Ethan grabbed it first. A corner of the paper tore. I watched him standing protectively in front of Tara and suddenly felt like this house was very unfamiliar. I’d lived here for five years. But now standing here, I felt like an outsider.

I forcibly snatched the letter back. Tara hid behind Ethan. Ethan’s face darkened. “Sophia, you’re emotionally unstable right now. Don’t go to the hospital tomorrow.” I looked at him. “I’m the head of the lab department. I don’t answer to emergency room doctors.” Tara’s tears fell instantly. “Sophia, I really didn’t mean to take what’s yours. I just love Ethan too much.” I laughed out loud. “Well, you sure know how to love—you loved your way right into someone else’s home.” Ethan lowered his voice. “Don’t be so harsh.” My phone rang. It was the dialysis center. “Ms. Walker, your mother is experiencing sudden chest tightness and unstable blood pressure. Please come immediately.” I grabbed my bag and left. Ethan instinctively followed. My heart actually relaxed for a moment. The next second, Tara clutched her stomach and crouched down. “Ethan, I’m dizzy…” “I didn’t eat last night. It might be low blood sugar.” Ethan stopped in his tracks. He glanced at me. “You take a cab first.” “I’ll take her to the ER. I’ll be right there.” I said nothing. As the elevator doors closed, I saw him pick Tara up in his arms. In the taxi, I called him three times. No one answered. At the hospital, my mom’s face was ashen. A nurse pushed a risk disclosure form in front of me. “Sign this. She might need emergency dialysis or even resuscitation.” My hand shook so much I couldn’t write my name. For eight years, Ethan always said, “Your mom is my mom from now on.” He said I didn’t need to be afraid. He said he’d handle everything at the hospital. But when the day finally came, I was the one signing. Outside the emergency room, I opened my phone. The first post on my feed was from Ethan. In the photo, he and Tara were holding up their marriage certificate. Caption: For the rest of our lives, please take care of me. Posted at the exact time I made my third call. A bunch of ER colleagues had liked it. Tara replied: “Thank you everyone! Ethan says he’s treating everyone to a big dinner tonight.” I stared at those words as my palms slowly went cold. When my mom woke up, her first words were, “Where’s Ethan?” I pressed my phone against my palm. “He’s treating a critical patient.” “Doctors are busy. I understand.” The family member from the next bed suddenly leaned over. “Isn’t your son-in-law Dr. Hayes? He got married, but the bride isn’t your daughter?” She shoved her phone in front of my mom’s face. I couldn’t stop her in time. My mom saw the photo and her breathing suddenly became rapid. The monitor immediately started beeping. I rushed out to call a doctor. Running to the nurses’ station, I saw Ethan. He was holding Tara’s hand, handing out wedding invitations to the ER staff. Someone teased, “Dr. Hayes, you kept this well hidden.” Tara blushed and leaned against him. Ethan saw me and frowned. His first words were: “How did you upset your mom like this?” I stood there, still clutching my mom’s critical condition notice in my hand. I threw the report in his face. “Ethan Hayes, where do you get the nerve?” The ER fell silent. Tara’s tears fell again. She said softly, “Sophia, don’t blame Ethan. It’s my fault.” Ethan pulled her behind him. “This is a hospital. Don’t make a scene.” I looked at the invitation in his hand and suddenly found it hilarious.

I didn’t make a scene. I just asked him in front of everyone: “What right do you have to blame me?” No one in the ER said a word. Tara leaned against Ethan, crying softly. Ethan lowered his voice. “Sophia, don’t interfere with work.” “You’re the one interfering with work.” “My mom is in the observation room, and you’re here celebrating your marriage.” Someone looked down, pretending to organize charts. Tara suddenly covered her mouth. “I feel sick…” The ER colleagues immediately started making noise. “Just got married and already pregnant? Dr. Hayes works fast.” Ethan’s expression changed. He immediately helped Tara up. “Let’s draw blood first and check.” My mom was still in the observation room. But he stayed by Tara’s side every step of the way for the blood draw. I stood at the lab window and watched him personally label the blood collection tubes. His movements were carefully precise and piercing to watch. She touched her belly, lowering her head with a smile. “I hope the baby grows up healthy.” Ethan said in front of his colleagues: “Once we have a child, I’ll give you a proper home.” I thought that sentence had nothing to do with me. Until that evening, when I returned to that house and saw an agreement on the table. Housing Arrangement Agreement. It stated: To facilitate Tara’s pregnancy, Sophia voluntarily moves out of the master bedroom. Holding the paper, I laughed for a long time. The down payment for that house was two hundred thousand dollars—money I paid. The renovation costs—I charged to my credit card. For years, I’d transferred three thousand dollars to Ethan every month for the mortgage. Only his name was on the deed. Because he said doctors could get loans more easily. He said, “Sophia, there’s no yours and mine between us.” Now he was making it very clear. The master bedroom for Tara. I even had to give up my bed. I asked, “What does this agreement mean?” Ethan sat on the couch. “Tara is pregnant. The master bedroom gets better sunlight. It’s better for the pregnancy.” I spread the agreement in front of him. “What about my two hundred thousand?” “What about the mortgage payments?” He frowned. “Eight years together, don’t make it sound so ugly.” Tara came out of the kitchen with a glass of water. She was wearing an apron, looking like the lady of the house. “Sophia, don’t worry. I won’t live here for free.” “I’ll give you eight hundred a month. Is that okay?” I almost laughed in disbelief. “Eight hundred?” “Are you joking?” I picked up the agreement and tore it up. Ethan suddenly grabbed my wrist. “If you keep this up, I’ll have to transfer your mom to a regular ward first.” I looked up at him. He continued: “And the dialysis scheduling doesn’t have to go through me either.” The room was very quiet. Tara stopped crying. She stood behind Ethan, looking down at me. Her expression was obedient. And also smug. I slowly pulled my hand away. “Ethan Hayes, you’re threatening me with my mom’s life?” He avoided my gaze. “I just hope you’ll calm down.” I nodded. “Fine.” “I’ll calm down enough to make you regret this.”

The next day, I went to the lab department as usual. The first thing I did when I entered the office was export all the transfer records I’d made to Ethan over the years. Including the expenses I’d covered when his father was hospitalized. And the chat records showing he’d been managing my mom’s medical files. I uploaded them all to the cloud, one by one. Ethan sent me a message. “Don’t make this bigger. Let’s talk tonight when you get home.” I didn’t reply. At ten in the morning, Tara came to the lab window. She handed me a blood test order. “Sophia, I’m pregnant. Can you expedite it for me?” The office instantly went quiet. I followed protocol and said, “Register, pay, and wait in line.” Tara’s eyes reddened. “Are you still mad at me?” I pushed the order back. “This is a hospital, not your living room.” She bit her lip and left. To avoid any conflict of interest, I personally handed the sample to a colleague for processing and recorded everything. At noon, the results came out. She wasn’t pregnant at all! Tara looked at the results and her face changed completely. Half an hour later, word came from the ER. Tara had abdominal pain and bleeding between her legs—suspected miscarriage. Tara appeared, supported by a nurse. Her face was pale, her hand covering her stomach. “Sophia, you can hate me. But the baby is innocent.” My colleagues looked at me differently. The director came over too. “Sophia, suspend your work for now and cooperate with the investigation.” I said, “Check the surveillance and the records.” Ethan interrupted me. “Tara miscarried because she was traumatized.” I looked at him: “How can someone who isn’t pregnant have a miscarriage?” Tara cried, trembling. Ethan threw a stack of documents in front of me. The papers scattered. They were notices about my mom’s dialysis deposit and bed adjustment applications. He looked at me coldly. “Kneel and apologize to Tara right now. I’ll make sure your mom can use the machine tonight.” Everyone in the department was watching me. My professional reputation. My mom’s life. My eight years of devotion. He compressed it all into one apology. I bent down to pick up the documents. At the bottom was a test order from another hospital. Tara had it done last week. It stated: No evidence of pregnancy. I looked up at him. His face finally showed panic. Tara screamed, “That’s not mine!” The next second, the director’s office door was pushed open. Someone from the hospital’s disciplinary office stood in the doorway. “Sophia Walker, regarding your suspected tampering with lab reports, please immediately accept suspension pending investigation.”

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My Alpha husband Orion’s first love, Beatrix, suddenly had a depression episode and committed suicide by arson. In his fury, he brought me—eight months pregnant—to the hunting grounds during the Hunt Festival and made me prey for the werewolves to chase. “If you hadn’t deliberately provoked Beatrix, why would she have had a depression episode and tried to kill herself by setting that fire?” I was still carrying our child. Through my tears, I admitted fault and begged him to spare me, promising I would never appear in front of Beatrix again. But he only shook his head coldly. “Seraphina, for the child’s sake, I won’t reject you.” “But the pain you caused Beatrix—I’ll make you repay it a hundred, a thousand times over!” After throwing me into the hunting grounds, he turned and left immediately. As more and more werewolves chased me like prey, I struggled and screamed in terror. During my escape, a rush of hot liquid burst from my body. Three days later, he finally remembered me, the one he’d left in the hunting grounds. “Seraphina, Beatrix is fine now. As long as you kneel before her and apologize, I’ll let you out of the hunting grounds.” What he didn’t know was that I had already died in the hunting grounds. Even the child he had longed for had been flung from my body during my escape and turned into a pile of bloody pulp…

“The doctor called me this morning and said Seraphina didn’t show up for her prenatal checkup. What kind of stunt is she trying to pull now to get my attention?” As Orion spoke, his brow furrowed tightly, a flash of disgust in his eyes. The old butler’s face went pale, and he said in a trembling voice, “Alpha Orion, Luna Seraphina doesn’t seem to have been released yet. And she’s eight months pregnant—what if something happened?” Orion waved his hand dismissively. “It’s just the Hunt Festival. Besides, I had the witch put a protective spell on her. The werewolves in the hunting grounds can’t actually hurt her—they’re just scaring her. I’m not really trying to kill her. It’s good for her to learn some fear. Maybe next time she won’t dare bully Beatrix again.” Hearing this, the old butler didn’t dare say more. But Leo couldn’t help interjecting, “But three days ago, at the start, Luna Seraphina was crying her heart out. Then later there was no sound at all. She’s still carrying your child—your own flesh and blood. Maybe you should go check on Luna Seraphina…” Orion’s expression instantly changed from understanding to contempt. “I knew it. Even her screams were fake. How could someone being chased by werewolves make no sound at all? Seraphina is as cunning and scheming as ever. If that’s the case, let her stay in the hunting grounds one more day. Tomorrow I’ll bring her to Beatrix to kneel and apologize, and then we’ll be done with this.” With that, he waved his hand to cut off Leo’s next words and walked toward the bedroom. Orion still thought I was in the hunting grounds. He didn’t know that I was actually already dead. After death, my soul automatically drifted to his side, and I couldn’t go anywhere except near him. At that moment, my soul floated in the air. I saw that in the bedroom, Beatrix was lying half-naked on my marital bed, her body still wrapped in burn bandages from her failed suicide attempt. Orion walked gently to her side. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and the next second he pressed his lips to her swollen ones. The person on the bed let out a soft moan and opened her eyes. She gently tried to push away the Orion on top of her. “Orion, this is your and Seraphina’s marital bed. Seraphina will be heartbroken if she finds out.” “And about what happened before, Orion—I just loved you too much. I thought if I died, Seraphina wouldn’t fight with you because of me anymore. I never meant for you to punish her for my sake. Why don’t I go apologize to Seraphina?” Beatrix bit her lower lip, looking sad and guilty. Sure enough, seeing Beatrix like this, Orion couldn’t hold back any longer. He set the porridge aside. His large hand roughly kneaded Beatrix’s chest as he flipped over and pressed her beneath him. “Beatrix, you’re just too kind. If it weren’t for you all those years ago, I would have died at the hands of those Rogues. When I think about how gentle and kind you are, and how Seraphina drove you to attempt suicide by fire, it breaks my heart. If there’s a next time, even if she’s carrying my child, I’ll make her pay with her life…” Orion kissed the minor burns Beatrix had from the fire, his eyes full of heartache. Yes, because Beatrix had saved Orion, Orion fell in love with her. Beatrix was also Orion’s first love. Orion, Beatrix, and I all attended the same werewolf academy. Back then, Orion was still the Alpha heir. In his school uniform, he was sunny and handsome. I’d had a crush on him from very early on. When I turned eighteen, I discovered that Orion and I were fated mates. I was so happy. Orion also agreed to date me, but I didn’t notice the confusion written all over his eyes at the time. Looking back now, Orion must have been sad about Beatrix breaking up with him and going abroad. I thought that after all these years together, and being fated mates, Orion would surely fall in love with me. But then Beatrix returned to the country, and I overheard Orion coaxing her, “I only married Seraphina because marrying a fated mate would help me become Alpha of the Ashpelt Pack. Deep down, I still love you, of course.” In that moment, I heard the sound of my own heart breaking.

My soul floated in the air, watching Orion and Beatrix have sex on my marital bed. The wedding photo on the nightstand shook. Looking at myself in the photo, so affectionate, and at the cold Orion. Only then did I realize that souls can cry too. But Orion, there won’t be a next time. Because… I’m already dead. At the time, I was so frightened I wanted to run away. He watched with his own eyes as I clutched my eight-month pregnant belly and fled like a headless fly. In the end, he ordered his guards to drag me back. Having lost his patience, before throwing me into the hunting grounds, he had the accompanying witch cast a spell on me. My body began to twist and deform. Antlers grew from my forehead, and brown fur covered my skin. I transformed into the shape of a deer. He waved his hand coldly. “Starting now, you’re the prey for the Hunt Festival.” I was pushed into the hunting grounds. The werewolves behind me caught the scent of prey, and their eyes began to glow red. I ran desperately, but my body, eight months pregnant, was unbearably heavy. The howling of wolves behind me grew closer and closer. I cried and told him I couldn’t run anymore. I begged him to save our child. He hesitated for a moment, but Beatrix, who had just been rescued, reminded him weakly from his arms, “I remember Seraphina’s due date isn’t for another week, right? But she does look really scared. Getting this frightened before it even starts—maybe we should just forget it. I’m fine…” The next second, Orion’s face filled with disgust. “Seraphina! You’re revolting. You’re even using our child as a bargaining chip to compete for favor. Stay in there and reflect on yourself!” In the hunting grounds, the cold wind made my teeth chatter. My stomach hurt more and more. I ran desperately. The werewolves behind me chased closer and closer. A werewolf pounced. Its claws tore through my hind leg. Blood gushed out. I fell to the ground, then struggled to get up again. Another werewolf charged. Its fangs sank into my shoulder. I screamed in pain, desperately shook it off, and kept running forward. Until a third werewolf pounced and slammed hard into my abdomen. Intense pain struck. A rush of hot liquid burst from my body. I looked down. Blood ran down my legs, and a tiny body fell from beneath me. I couldn’t even see clearly whether my child was a boy or a girl. The next second, the wolf pack behind me swarmed forward, fighting over that mass of flesh and blood. I screamed in anguish and lunged forward, trying to retrieve my child. But the werewolves knocked me aside. I could only watch helplessly as that tiny body disappeared in the werewolves’ struggle. My blood spilled onto the dirt of the hunting grounds, staining a large patch red. I stopped breathing amid my agonized screams. And what was Orion doing at that time? He had summoned the most authoritative werewolf doctors of the Ashpelt Pack, all to prevent the shallow burns on Beatrix’s arm from scarring. He bought countless roses and bid on globally unique jewelry to present to Beatrix, hoping only that his frightened white moonlight wouldn’t be afraid anymore. And when someone tried to report news about me to him, he impatiently interrupted, “Even if she died, she brought it on herself.” … “Alright, it’s almost her due date in two days. Bring Seraphina here to apologize to Beatrix. She’s been in the hunting grounds so long, she must be filthy. Have her wash up before coming.” Orion held Beatrix on his lap while working. Beatrix’s hand kept drawing circles on his chest. “Why don’t we just forget it? I believe Seraphina didn’t mean it. At the end of the day, I shouldn’t have come back. But I just wanted to be by your side. I really didn’t mean to make you two fight because of me.” Orion indulgently caught her wandering hand. “Beatrix, you’re my savior. Just for that alone, I’ll protect you forever. She’s my wife—she should be tolerant of you along with me. But instead she deliberately targets you every time, provoking you.” “I can’t even imagine—if the fire hadn’t been put out in time, I might never forgive myself for the rest of my life.” Hearing this, a flash of unnaturalness crossed Beatrix’s face. She shrank her neck and said nothing more.

A bitter smile escaped the corner of my mouth. Half a year ago, Beatrix’s fated mate died, so Beatrix, who had been staying abroad, suddenly returned home. Orion said she was alone and helpless. Without even giving me a heads-up, he brought her back to live with us. At first, I didn’t think much of it. I thought Beatrix had long since stopped liking Orion. I even felt sorry for Beatrix, an orphan, and took care of her in every way. Until one time, she poured a glass of red wine over her own head, then knelt down and begged me to leave her alone. After that, Orion started looking at me strangely. That day he wouldn’t listen to my explanation at all. He threw me in the confinement room and starved me for three days, warning me viciously, “Seraphina, you’ve disappointed me so much! Beatrix’s significance to me is beyond your imagination. If you target Beatrix again, even if you’re my wife, I’ll make you pay.” Things like this happened repeatedly after that. Orion’s gaze toward me grew colder and colder. Originally, I planned to ask Orion for a rejection after the child was born. But I never expected Beatrix would suddenly attempt suicide by fire. And the culprit behind her self-immolation was supposedly the abusive messages and vicious voice recordings I had sent her. Those words were indeed hard to accept, but they weren’t said by me. But Orion didn’t believe me. He felt so sorry for Beatrix that his eyes turned red. He didn’t even care about our soon-to-be-born child—he just wanted to vent his beloved’s anger. “Alpha Orion… Luna Seraphina, she seems to… seems to… You’d better go see for yourself.” Orion was startled. Then his face filled with impatience. “After all this time, she still dares to throw a tantrum?!” Beta Leo hesitated, but finally said with difficulty, “No, Alpha Orion. It’s Luna Seraphina. We found her, but… but she… doesn’t seem to be breathing…” Orion’s hand, which had been holding Beatrix, froze. After a few seconds of silence, he laughed dismissively. “Her methods of escaping punishment are getting more sophisticated. To avoid kneeling and apologizing to Beatrix, she’s even thought of playing dead?!” “Tell her that even if she dies, she has to apologize to Beatrix first! Otherwise, don’t blame me for being rude!” Cold sweat began to bead on Leo’s forehead. He wanted to say something more, but seeing Orion’s furious face, he ultimately withdrew. Beatrix lifted her head with an innocent expression. “Orion, why don’t we just forget it? Even though Seraphina doesn’t like me and makes things difficult for me everywhere, she is your wife after all. As long as I can stay by your side, I can endure it.” Orion held her even tighter. “Beatrix, you don’t need to be afraid of that petty woman Seraphina. She’s not worth a single strand of your hair. This time I have to teach her a lesson so she’ll behave in the future.” “But…” “Alright, listen to Orion. You can’t go wrong.” A teardrop fell on the back of my hand. Only then did I realize that at some point, tears were streaming down my face. So, souls can feel heartache too? Orion said nothing more, but during his next hour of work, he was constantly distracted. In the span of an hour, he inadvertently glanced toward the door no fewer than ten times. Finally, he slammed his laptop shut and irritably ran his fingers through his hair. Having completely lost his patience, he gently coaxed Beatrix, “Beatrix, I don’t know what kind of trick Seraphina is playing. I’m going to drag her here to apologize to you right now.”

Arriving at the entrance to the hunting grounds. He strode inside. Before he got close, he saw the dirt stained red with blood. The smell of blood in the air hadn’t yet dissipated. He covered his nose. “Why does it stink so much? What the hell is that woman Seraphina doing?!” Hearing this, cold sweat poured from Leo’s forehead. “Alpha Orion, maybe you should just see for yourself…” He stepped aside. Revealing me, covered by a white cloth, and a small white bundle next to it. Orion’s hand moved back and forth between the two white cloths. Before he knew it, his brow was furrowed in uncertainty. He seemed hesitant. I clutched my chest. Knowing what he was about to see, my heart ached unbearably, yet I couldn’t bear to look away. Finally, he reached his hand toward that small bundle. He had just lifted the white cloth when a sharp cry came from behind him. “Orion, why did you bring a dead cat corpse over here?! Did you forget? I’m allergic to cat fur! I hate stray cats the most!” Beatrix shrieked and burrowed into Orion’s arms. Orion’s panicked expression froze. He quickly seemed to come to his senses and kicked my child’s corpse away with one foot. He then ordered people to bring over several wild dogs. The beasts, smelling meat, swarmed forward. I screamed and lunged forward, but I couldn’t do anything. I questioned him frantically, bit and clawed at him, but it was useless. I was just a soul now. No matter how much pain I felt, no one could see it. But I truly wasn’t willing to accept this. What did I do wrong?! What did my child do wrong?! Looking at the ground full of scraps, a flash of malice crossed Beatrix’s eyes. Orion frowned. “Stop playing tricks. Where’s Seraphina?! Where the hell is she?!” “Driving Beatrix to attempt suicide wasn’t enough—now she’s using a dead cat corpse to scare Beatrix! I never knew she was so vicious!” “Seraphina! Aren’t you the one who values the child most? If you don’t come out, once the child is born, we’re getting divorced and breaking the mate bond! You can’t win custody from me! You’ll never see the child again for the rest of your life!” I sat dazed on the ground, crying and laughing. Yes, my parents were already gone. Orion had betrayed me too. What I valued most was this child. But he was killed by his own father, and in the end, not even his bones remained! Orion! You will definitely go to hell! He shouted angrily, demanding that I come out. But no one responded. Finally, Leo steeled himself and walked over. While slowly lifting the white cloth covering my corpse, he said tremblingly, “Alpha Orion, Luna Seraphina is right here! As for the child, you just fed him to the wild dogs…”

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The day before the wedding, a hotel booking confirmation from my fiancé Ethan arrived on my phone. I thought it was a pre-wedding surprise he’d planned for me. But shortly after, his childhood sweetheart Leah posted a photo on Ins of them kissing passionately, with the caption: “Missing you before was my biggest regret. If I still have a chance, I want to tell you—I do.” After I caught him cheating, Ethan didn’t explain. He just sent me a message: “We need to prepare for the wedding tomorrow. Get some rest early tonight.” Seeing that message, bitterness filled my heart. What was I to him, really? A consolation prize? My eyes welled up as I looked at the carefully decorated room, feeling nothing but irony. I took a deep breath, swallowed the bitterness, and replied. “Let’s not get married. Let’s break up.” Ethan didn’t respond to that message. I fought to suppress the sadness inside and threw the wedding dress I’d carefully prepared onto the floor. Ethan was only thirty but already a professor at a prestigious university. In everyone’s eyes, he was handsome and talented. Many people thought I was marrying up, and even before the wedding they’d advise me to be content and become a virtuous, sensible wife. But cheating was something I could never tolerate. After deciding firmly to break up, I sent my mom a message. She was shocked. After a long silence, she said: “Alright. As long as you’ve made your decision, I’ll support you.” That night, I packed my bags and left home, checking into a hotel. Two days later, Ethan suddenly found the hotel where I was staying. His refined face showed deep fatigue, and his ink-black eyes stared straight at me. “Have you calmed down yet?” His voice came out dull and hoarse. I snapped back to reality and looked at him coldly. “Mr. Hayes, what do you want from me?” “Emily, stop making a scene. I’m really tired lately.” He seemed to soften his tone, his eyes clearly showing exhaustion. I let out a cold laugh. Of course he was tired—juggling two women would exhaust anyone. “What does that have to do with me?” I responded coldly. Even looking at him one more time felt like it dirtied my eyes. I turned to leave after saying that, but he grabbed my wrist. The moment his warm palm touched my wrist. I jerked my hand away like a startled bird and glared at him angrily. “Don’t touch me!” Ethan’s body trembled slightly as he looked at me in surprise. He opened his mouth as if to say something. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. We’ve already broken up. Please show some respect!” “Emily.” His tone grew heavier, tinged with displeasure. “I couldn’t find you on the wedding day. You wouldn’t answer your phone or reply to messages. I’m already exhausted dealing with this mess. Can’t we just talk this through properly? Why does it have to come to this?” “Talk about what? About how you had sex with another woman? Sorry, I’m not interested.” Ethan’s eyes were pitch black, his expression so dark it could drip water, his voice cold. “Things between her and me aren’t what you think.”

“I don’t care what your relationship is anymore.” His tone softened a bit. “Emily, let’s go home and talk. My parents are still waiting for you at home.” Thinking of his parents, I felt somewhat guilty. Ethan’s parents were completely different from him. Uncle Richard was kind and pleasant to talk to, and Aunt Claire was gentle and beautiful. They’d always been good to me, never mistreated me, sometimes even treating me better than they treated Ethan. With something like this happening, they must be feeling awful too. Fine. This matter needed to be settled anyway. I didn’t object. I let him take my suitcase and walk into the elevator. I followed him to his parents’ house. Before we even entered, I heard his mom saying, “Go buy some mangoes quickly. Emily likes mangoes.” “Sure thing, I’ll go right now,” Richard replied. Richard came to the door and paused when he saw us, then his face broke into a kind smile. “You’re back. I’m going to buy some fruit. I’ll be right back.” I smiled awkwardly, unable to say what I’d come to say. Claire was still busy in the kitchen. Hearing our voices, she rushed out. “Emily’s back! Rest on the sofa for a bit. Dinner will be ready soon.” Her face was full of smiles, as if my runaway bride act had never happened. My guilt deepened. But that wouldn’t shake my determination to break up. I responded and sat on the sofa, stiffly staring at the blank TV screen. Ethan poured a glass of water and placed it in front of me. “It’s not your first time here. Why so nervous?” I kept my eyes straight ahead and said blandly, “Because this isn’t my home.” Then I added coolly, “Not the first time, but it will be the last.” Ethan gripped the glass tightly, his fingertips turning white, his thin lips pressed into a straight line, as if deliberately restraining something. At that moment, the doorbell rang. Ethan got up to answer it. His childhood sweetheart Leah’s cheerful voice came from outside. “Ethan, what’s cooking at your place? It smells amazing.” As she finished speaking, she changed shoes and walked in with practiced ease. She clearly froze when she saw me, her lips stretching into a strained smile. “Oh, Emily’s here too.” My cold gaze swept over her, pausing when I noticed the slippers she was wearing. Her slippers were cute pink house shoes with little bears. What a coincidence—they matched the blue bear slippers on Ethan’s feet that didn’t suit his image at all. They were a pair. I smiled mockingly to myself and swallowed all the words I wanted to say.

Soon, it was dinner time. Claire, as always, was taking care of my feelings, worried I wouldn’t relax. She even asked Ethan to peel shrimp for me. Ethan’s eyebrows furrowed at this, his resistance plain to see. He never ate these kinds of shellfish—partly because it was too much trouble, and partly because he genuinely disliked them. The same scene had played out before when I visited. Back then, he’d looked puzzled and asked, “Why would you eat something so troublesome?” I’d already felt uncomfortable at the time, and hearing that, I immediately gave up on eating the shrimp. I could only lie and say, “No need, I don’t like shrimp.” Even now, he hadn’t changed his attitude. He looked at the shrimp on the table with obvious disgust. I smiled faintly and grabbed a pair of disposable gloves to put on. “No need, Claire. I can peel them myself.” The smile on Claire’s face gradually froze. She shot him a displeased glare, then smiled and told me to eat more. Leah bit her lip, her gaze drifting meaningfully toward the shrimp. “Emily, you’re so good at peeling shrimp. I love eating them too, but I don’t know how to peel them.” Hearing this, I calmly looked at the peeled shrimp in my hand and casually put it in my mouth. “Really? There are tutorials online. You can check them out.” Leah smiled awkwardly. Ethan looked at me with disapproval. He methodically put on disposable gloves, picked up a shrimp, and began peeling it while gently teaching her peeling techniques. Watching this scene, I suddenly felt like laughing. If his parents weren’t here, I didn’t know how many harsh words I’d say. Claire’s expression changed dramatically. She covered her mouth and coughed heavily several times. “Don’t play favorites. Take care of Emily too.” Ethan glanced at me sideways and reluctantly peeled one for me. It was quite intact, but I’d lost my appetite. From that point on, I didn’t eat another shrimp. The one he placed in my bowl, I never touched either. I acted as if I hadn’t seen it and smiled. “Thank you for having me.” “However, there’s something I need to make clear. Ethan and I have already broken up. I’m sorry, Richard and Claire. I’ve let you down.” Richard and Claire froze. Ethan clenched his fists, staring at me in silence. Instead, it was Leah whose eyes reddened as she asked weakly, “Emily, Ethan treats you so well. Why do you insist on breaking up? Can’t you stay together?” Seeing her act so innocent, I almost couldn’t keep down the food I’d just eaten. My expression turned especially ugly. I smiled faintly and asked back, “Don’t you know the reason?” “Emily!” Ethan interrupted me sharply. His expression was grim, his face full of displeasure. “I already told you, I only see Leah as a sister. Stop being unreasonable.” Leah’s expression changed, unable to maintain her smile. I looked up at him calmly, suddenly feeling tired. I slowly stood up and said softly, “Thank you for having me. Next time I’ll treat you to dinner. I just remembered I have some things to handle, so I’ll leave first.” Claire was a reasonable person who could tell the atmosphere was off. She stood up reluctantly. “Alright then. I made some mango mille-feuille cake. Take it home with you.” Afraid I’d refuse, she hurried to the kitchen to pack it for me. After leaving Ethan’s house, I dragged my suitcase and took a cab home. I hadn’t been back for two days. The hallway was clean, showing no trace that wedding preparations had been made here.

The apartment I rented wasn’t far from Ethan’s place. He’d asked me to move in with him before. I couldn’t bear to give up this place I’d paid for annually, so I never agreed. Thinking about it now, I realized this was one of the few right choices I’d made. My best friend Sophie found out I’d moved back and rushed over with her child. “Emily, there’s something I’m really curious about. How did you find out he went to that boutique hotel with someone else?” I was playing with toys to entertain the little one when I heard her question. My smile faded. “I used his phone to book a hotel before and entered my number. Last time I forgot to change it back.” That careless mistake completely woke me from the beautiful dream I’d been weaving. “Unbelievable. He looks so decent on the outside, but what he does is worse than trash. Good thing you found out before the wedding. If you’d discovered this after getting married, that would’ve been even more disgusting.” Sophie had always been someone who loved and hated boldly, never holding back when cursing people out. My gloomy mood lightened considerably thanks to her counsel. “Don’t worry. You’re beautiful and capable. You’ll meet an even better man!” I smiled brightly, agreeing with her words. After adjusting my mood, I returned to work at the company. Colleagues who knew I was getting married during this time saw me come to work and expressed their congratulations. Seeing their happy smiles for my sake. A warm current flowed through my heart. After the joy came a wave of melancholy. Who would have thought I’d returned to being single again? “Emily, you’re not planning to start trying for a baby now, are you? Everyone knows the manager position is practically yours. If you choose family at this point, it won’t be worth it.” During lunch break, a colleague wheeled her chair over to sit beside me, speaking quietly. I’d actually struggled with this dilemma before—unwilling to give up the promotion opportunity right within reach, yet also unwilling to abandon the little family I’d just formed. But now, my problem had solved itself. “Don’t worry. I won’t have those plans for the next few years.” “Huh? Your husband won’t say anything?” I smiled calmly. “No one has the right to interfere with my decisions.” My colleague paused, then gave me a thumbs up and praised, “You’re really clear-headed. But you’re right—life is your own. No one has the right to boss us around.” Bitterness rose in my heart. If I’d really been clear-headed, I wouldn’t have waited until now to turn back. After that, I focused all my energy on work, deliberately avoiding everything related to Ethan. I discovered that when you really wanted to avoid someone, it was actually quite easy. For five consecutive days, I didn’t see Ethan. Just when I thought he’d given up, he showed up at my door. I was carrying groceries I’d just bought home. When I stepped out of the elevator, I saw a tall man standing by my door. Ethan held a bouquet of bright red roses. In his well-fitted suit, his superior figure was hard to ignore. I walked coldly to the door, wanting to unlock it. “Emily, let’s talk.” “What is there left for us to talk about?” I glanced at him indifferently. “Move. I need to go home.” “What I did before was wrong. I came to apologize.”

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The thunderstorm came suddenly, trapping me under the office building. Ethan Quinn rushed over with an umbrella, but it tilted without hesitation toward the girl beside him. “Sophia’s shoes can’t get wet. Wait here for a bit. I’ll take her to the car first, then come back for you.” I watched his shoulder getting soaked. The scene was so familiar. Years ago, he would’ve gotten himself completely drenched just to keep the umbrella entirely over me, afraid I’d get touched by a single raindrop. “Don’t bother.” I slipped off my heels and tossed them into a nearby trash can. “Mr. Quinn’s umbrella is too small to cover two people. Don’t strain yourself.” I walked barefoot into the pouring rain. Behind me, Ethan called out. “Violet!” I didn’t turn back. The rain pounded painfully against my soles. The pebbles on the ground dug into my feet. I’d been pampered since childhood. As a kid, I’d cry for hours just from stepping on seashells at the beach. Ethan knew this better than anyone. He used to laugh and say my feet were only meant for carpets, that they couldn’t endure any hardship. But today, even though he saw me abandon my shoes, his first instinct was still to tilt the umbrella toward Sophia White. When I got home, I was dripping water everywhere. My mom was coming down from upstairs. When she saw me like this, her face immediately darkened. “Who did this?” “Who did it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve figured things out.” I bent down to get my slippers. My sole had been scraped raw in one spot, and it hurt to step down. Ethan used to get anxious over small injuries like this, as if they were major incidents. In senior year when I twisted my ankle, he carried me on his back for two blocks to the hospital, then cut up and threw away the shoes that had hurt me the next day. Looking back now, I realized a man’s devotion could have an expiration date. I’d just finished my shower when my phone rang. I thought Ethan had finally remembered me. When I answered, his first words were, “Violet, Sophia got caught in the rain and her shoes are wet. Do you have any new clothes you haven’t worn? I’ll have my driver come pick them up.” I said nothing. “Violet Smith, did you hear me?” I laughed. “I heard you.” “Why don’t you send her my unused boyfriend while you’re at it?” I hung up immediately. The next second, Ethan sent me a message. “Stop being passive-aggressive. Sophia is timid and can’t handle you acting like this.” My mom sat across from me and spoke slowly. “Are you going to continue with this?” I didn’t play dumb. “No. I’m done.” She nodded, as if she’d expected it all along. “You and Ethan grew up together. Your father and I always thought that even if he wasn’t the brightest, he would at least treat you sincerely. Turns out we misjudged him.” I bent down to apply medicine to my foot. The alcohol stung sharply when it touched the wound, making my hand tremble. My mom took the medicine from me. “Move back home tomorrow. Your father bought that wedding apartment for you anyway. No need to let someone else benefit from it.” I hummed in agreement. That apartment had been decorated before Ethan and I got engaged. I’d picked the living room sofa, the dining table, even the dishes in the kitchen—I’d carried them back piece by piece from business trips. Back then, I felt marriage was close, and Ethan was close too. Only now did I realize that being close doesn’t mean you won’t drift apart. At one in the morning, Ethan called again. “Are you still throwing a tantrum?” “No.” “Sophia just got a fever. She’s been blaming herself, saying she shouldn’t have bothered me to pick you up. Come by tomorrow if you’re free and tell her not to overthink it.” I almost thought I’d heard wrong. “I’m supposed to comfort her?” “Violet, she was scared today too.” “She was scared, so I have to make her feel better?” Ethan was silent for two seconds. Then he said, “You weren’t this petty before.” I hung up on him. Early the next morning, I had the driver take me to the wedding apartment. I’d only planned to grab a few clothes. But when I opened the door, I saw a pair of soaked white sneakers in the entryway. There was half a cup of warm milk on the table. And Sophia White, wearing my pajamas, sat in my usual spot, looking up at me timidly. “Violet, don’t misunderstand…” Ethan walked out wearing an apron, holding freshly baked bread. “Good timing.” “Sophia had a fever last night, so I let her stay over.”

The pajamas Sophia wore were ones I’d bought for my birthday last year. I’d washed them once but never worn them. The rabbit-fur slippers on her feet were also mine. Even the cup in her hands—the small chip on the rim—I’d accidentally made that myself. Everything was mine. “Violet, I’m sorry.” Sophia immediately stood up, her voice soft. “Ethan said you had lots of clothes, so I just grabbed something. I’ll wash it and return it.” What really disgusted me wasn’t that she wore my clothes. It was Ethan standing there, accepting all of this as reasonable. I pushed my suitcase inside and said flatly, “No need to return it. You can have everything.” Sophia froze. Ethan frowned. “Violet, don’t be so cutting.” I smiled slightly. “I’m generously giving things away. Isn’t that gracious enough?” Ethan set the porridge on the table, his expression unpleasant. “You know Sophia is sensitive right now. Why do you have to be like this?” I didn’t bother arguing. I went straight into the bedroom to pack. Several dresses were missing from the closet. I didn’t ask. The perfume I used regularly on the vanity had been opened. The engagement venue catalog in the nightstand drawer had been rummaged through messily. As I packed, Ethan followed me in. “Why are you taking so much stuff?” “I’m moving out.” “Just because of one night?” I zipped up my suitcase and finally looked at him. “Ethan, do you think that as long as you say ‘Sophia isn’t feeling well’ or ‘Sophia is timid,’ I should give up everything?” He looked stunned. Then quickly frowned again. “I didn’t mean it like that.” “But everything you do means exactly that.” As I reached the door, Ethan suddenly spoke. “Tomorrow night is my mom’s birthday. Don’t make a scene.” I paused. “Don’t worry.” “I’ll be more dignified than anyone.” Mrs. Quinn’s birthday—in previous years, I’d picked the gifts, ordered the cake, even reviewed the guest list for them. The Quinn family had been close to ours for years. Everyone in our circle knew that this future daughter-in-law cared more than their actual son. Mrs. Quinn used to hold my hand and say with a smile, “When Ethan marries you, he’ll be so blessed.” Looking back now, that blessing was probably wasted. That afternoon, Ethan sent me the birthday party itinerary. His last message read: “Sophia is meeting so many elders for the first time. She’ll be nervous. Don’t target her later.” I read it and tossed my phone aside. Julia Brown had just come over to drop something off. She couldn’t help cursing. “Is he sick? You’re not even married yet, and he’s already setting rules for you on behalf of the other woman?” “Not the other woman,” I corrected her. “I’m not married yet. At most, I’m the one who got cut in line.” Julia laughed at my comment, then felt sorry for me. “Are you really just going to let this go?” “Let what go?” I looked down, selecting earrings. “Storm into the Quinn house and make a scene? Or grab Ethan and ask when he became this disgusting?” Julia fell silent. She knew better than anyone how Ethan and I had gotten this far. Sophomore year, when the Quinn family ran into trouble and their funds dried up, Ethan stayed up every night with bloodshot eyes. Afraid he’d collapse, I transferred all the money from my account to him. Later, my dad pulled the Quinn family out of trouble for my sake. Back then, Ethan held me and said he’d never let me lose in this lifetime. Yet just a few years later, he made me lose to a “timid” Sophia White. That evening, I’d just changed into my dress when Ethan called again. I didn’t answer. He called persistently three times. Finally, I picked up, and he got straight to the point. “Where did you put that emerald necklace you prepared for my mom?” “Sophia’s dress tonight has an open neckline. I want her to wear it.” That necklace was left to me by my grandmother. I’d been willing to give it to Mrs. Quinn as a birthday gift because I thought we’d soon be family. But now, Ethan wanted to give it to Sophia White to wear. When I didn’t respond, he sounded impatient. “Violet, don’t be difficult right now.” I slowly removed my earring, looking at myself in the mirror. “Ethan.” “Yeah?” “I’ll give your mom a big gift tonight.” “What do you mean?” I smirked. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

When I arrived at the Quinn house, most people were already there. As soon as Mrs. Quinn saw me, she smiled and waved. “Violet, come here. I thought you weren’t coming today.” I handed her the gift box. “It’s your birthday. Of course I’d come.” Mrs. Quinn pulled me to sit down, looking very pleased. “You’re always so thoughtful.” I didn’t respond to that. Because the next second, I saw Sophia White. She wore a light pink dress, standing next to Ethan. The dress was a limited edition I’d ordered last month. Ethan had said it was too expensive and not worth it, so he didn’t let me buy it. Even more ridiculous—she wore a thin diamond necklace around her neck. Not my emerald. But it was also something I’d left in the apartment drawer. Halfway through dinner, someone at the table started teasing. “Ethan, when are you and Violet getting married? We’re all waiting to attend your wedding.” Mrs. Quinn smiled and chimed in. “Soon, soon. After they finish this busy period.” I was about to speak when Sophia suddenly stood up to toast everyone. She got nervous, her hand shook, and she spilled wine all over her dress. Her eyes immediately reddened. “I’m sorry, I’m so clumsy…” Ethan immediately got up to grab napkins and crouched down to wipe her hem. One of the aunts at the table laughed meaningfully. “Oh my, Ethan really cares about this girl.” Another person glanced at me and deliberately said, “Violet has always had quite a temper. Hope she doesn’t overthink things.” Before I could speak, Sophia hurriedly waved her hands. “No, no, Violet’s been very good to me. Last time I wore her pajamas, she didn’t even get upset.” This one sentence was more clever than her deliberately reddening her eyes or pretending to shake. One phrase—”didn’t even get upset”—put me on the spot. If I minded, I was petty. If I didn’t mind, she’d continue occupying my things while playing innocent. Ethan also looked at me, saying quietly, “Violet, it’s my mom’s birthday today.” That phrase again. As if that one sentence meant I should endure everything. I picked up my bag and headed straight upstairs. Ethan’s lowered voice immediately followed. “Violet, where are you going?” “To get a gift.” I didn’t look back. I knew the Quinn family study well. When Uncle Quinn traveled for business, I’d help organize where documents were kept and where spare keys were. Ethan always said that after we got married, with me managing the house, he could relax. Looking back now, I really had made things too easy for him. So easy that he thought I’d never leave. After entering the study, I first took out a document folder from the drawer. It was a supplementary agreement my dad had asked me to pass to Uncle Quinn last month. I hadn’t looked at it carefully then. Last night when I moved out, my mom reminded me. Inside, it clearly stated—the thirty million our Smith family had given the Quinn family as working capital was lent on the condition of our engagement. If the engagement was called off, the money had to be returned within seven days. I’d just come downstairs with the document folder when Ethan was already waiting at the staircase. He was barely containing his anger. “What exactly are you trying to do tonight?” “Give a big gift.” “Stop this.” “Am I causing a scene?” I looked at him. “Since I walked in, have I smashed any glasses or flipped any tables?” I walked around him and returned to the dining room. Everyone at the table looked at me. I placed the document folder on the table and pushed it in front of Uncle Quinn. “Uncle, Auntie, today is your birthday. I didn’t want to bring this up on this occasion. But if I don’t say it now, I’ll look too oblivious.” Mrs. Quinn’s smile stiffened slightly. “Violet, what’s wrong?” I took out a ring from my bag and gently placed it on the table. Ethan had bought it for me last year, saying he’d officially propose this year on my birthday. Ethan’s expression changed instantly. “Violet!” I ignored him, looking only at Mr. and Mrs. Quinn. “I’m calling off this marriage.” “Also, regarding the money our Smith family previously gave the Quinn family, according to the agreement, please return it by next week.” Mrs. Quinn’s knife and fork clattered onto the table. Ethan was the first to react. He grabbed my wrist. “Have you lost your mind?” “Ethan.” I pulled my hand free bit by bit. “The one who’s really lost it isn’t me.” “It’s you, still thinking I’ll keep standing in place waiting for you to choose.”

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