Author: Momo Chan

The next time I opened my eyes, I was back on the day I got the pregnancy test results. My sister had just broken up with her childhood sweetheart in a fit of anger. That same night, he got drunk, and we slept together. When I found out I was pregnant, my sister chose to step aside for us. She went abroad, leaving us to build a life. He locked himself in his room for a full day. When he emerged, he told me he would marry me, that he would give me and our child a home. Our marriage was one of polite distance, but we managed a semblance of happiness. But our child was born with a cruel, congenital disease. After three years of agonizing treatments, we still couldn’t save him. The grief shattered me, and I wasted away, dying of a broken heart not long after. He spent the rest of his life tending to our graves. Only on the day he died did he whisper to our headstones that he had paid his debt to us. If there was a next life, he said, all he wanted was to find my sister. This time, I tore the pregnancy report to shreds and immediately scheduled an abortion. 1 In my past life, our child was born with a genetic defect. Every day was a struggle, filled with pain. No matter what treatments we tried, we were only delaying the inevitable. This time, I refused to let my child suffer like that again. And I refused to trap myself in a loveless marriage, a slow and agonizing torture. I had just gotten home when a warm hand grabbed my arm. “Lena!” I turned to see my sister, Seraphina, her eyes wide with worry. She pulled me quickly to a small wisteria-covered gazebo in our community garden and gently pushed me to sit down. This gazebo was once our sanctuary. When she and her childhood sweetheart, Asher, were on dates, I would always tag along like a little shadow. While they sat and talked, I would lean over the railing, watching the koi fish swim in the pond below. Sometimes, Asher would get annoyed and try to bribe me with snacks to go play somewhere else. But Sera would always protect me. “Lena can stay right here if she wants. If you have a problem with it, you can leave.” Now, in this new life, everything had changed. “Sera, what’s wrong?” I asked, trying my best to sound natural. She stared into my eyes, her voice low and urgent. “Did Asher hurt you?” She knelt in front of me, her hands gripping mine. “Tell me the truth, Lena. Did he do something to you?” Unlike my past life, where I had desperately tried to explain, this time I remained silent. I was the adopted daughter of the Jiang family. They took me in when I was seven. Sera was three years older than me, but she never once treated me like an outsider. She shared everything with me, from her favorite snacks to her most treasured toys. If someone bullied me, she was the first to jump to my defense. When I was sick, she would stay up all night by my side. My adoptive parents treated me as their own, providing for my education and giving me the best life they could. They even made it clear that their inheritance would be split equally between me and Sera. In my past life, I was so consumed by my love for Asher that I took their warmth for granted. It wasn’t until I was on my deathbed that I realized they were the ones I had wronged the most. This time, I would not let history repeat itself. I forced a lighthearted smile and patted her hand. “Sera, what are you talking about? I’m his future sister-in-law. Asher wouldn’t dare mess with me. He’s too scared I’ll say something bad about him to Mom and Dad and they won’t let you two get married.” Her frown deepened. “Lena, don’t lie to me… That night a month ago, when I told him we were breaking up… he got completely wasted. Were you with him?” Her voice trembled slightly. “Did he do something to you? If he dared to hurt you, I’ll kill him!” My fingers curled into a fist. This was exactly how it had happened before. Her relentless questioning, my flimsy excuses. It had all come out in a tearful confession in front of our parents. After that, Sera locked herself in her room for three days. Then she calmly packed her bags, applied for a master’s program abroad, and never looked back. She would only send gifts on my birthday and holidays, with a simple, detached note. Our parents sighed with sorrow, but they always put on a brave face for me, telling me not to worry. But the atmosphere in our home was never the same again. And Asher and I, we lived in a hollow marriage, sleeping in separate rooms, two polite strangers, until our family was torn apart by tragedy. I dug my nails into my palm, the sharp pain keeping me grounded in the present. I looked up, my expression open and innocent. “Sera, who’ve you been listening to? I was asleep early that night. I didn’t see him at all.” I tilted my head and gestured behind her with my chin. “If you don’t believe me, why don’t you just ask Asher? The man himself wouldn’t lie, would he?” 2 As if on cue, a soft footstep sounded from behind the gazebo. Sera turned. Asher stood under the wisteria trellis, holding a bouquet of fresh white roses. He was tall and handsome, with sharp, intelligent eyes. His gaze flickered over me for a split second before quickly moving to Sera, his expression instantly softening into a look of pure adoration. That look was always reserved for her. He walked over and offered her the flowers, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. “Sera, I’m sorry. I was an idiot that night. I never should have said we were breaking up.” She turned her head away with a sniff but didn’t push the flowers away. “I haven’t forgiven you yet.” “I know,” he said, his voice gentle, his eyes full of affection. “You can punish me however you want. Just… don’t ignore me.” I sat there, watching them, a familiar ache in my chest. This was how they were supposed to be. The perfect couple, deeply in love. All the tragedy had stemmed from that one drunken mistake. Suddenly, Sera turned back to Asher, her tone serious. “Asher, I have to ask you something. Have you ever, in any way, hurt Lena?” Asher’s body went rigid. His eyes found mine again, and this time, he didn’t look away. I could clearly see a storm of emotions in them: panic, a flicker of blame, and something else I couldn’t quite decipher. He was blaming me for bringing this up, for ruining his apology. And perhaps there was a sliver of guilt, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. “Of course not,” he said, his voice steady, but with an undercurrent of tension. “Lena is your sister. I would never do anything to hurt her.” I quickly took Sera’s hand, trying to smooth things over. “See, Sera? I told you. Stop worrying. You two just made up. Go on your date, don’t waste your time with me.” But Sera held onto my hand, her eyes twinkling. “Actually, you said you wanted to see that new sci-fi movie, right? Let’s all go together. The three of us.” We used to be inseparable. Asher doted on Sera, and by extension, he was always kind to me. Dinners, movies, it was always the three of us. But now, the words flew out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Let’s not take her this time.” The air went still. Sera looked at him, confused. “Why not? We always go together.” A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. “Besides, we haven’t officially made up yet. I can go with whoever I want.” Asher’s face paled. He was at a loss for words. How could he possibly bring me along, with such a huge secret hanging between us? I quickly pulled Sera aside, whispering, “Sera, you know how he is. He’s all talk. He was just saying that because he was angry. He secretly asked me to put in a good word for you a few days ago.” “You two just made up,” I pushed. “You need some time alone. I’d just be a third wheel. You go on your date, and I’ll go home and catch up on sleep.” My words seemed to soften her, and she was about to agree. But in that exact moment, I clapped a hand over my mouth, a wave of nausea washing over me as I retched violently. My face went white, and a cold sweat broke out on my forehead. “Lena!” Sera cried, grabbing me to steady me. Behind her, Asher’s face contorted in alarm, his pupils constricting. His voice was a strangled whisper. “You’re not…?” 3 My heart hammered against my ribs. I waved a hand dismissively, my voice strained. “I’m fine! I ate some leftovers from the fridge last night, must have been something bad. My stomach’s just upset.” I didn’t dare look at Asher, terrified he would see the panic in my eyes. “You two go, don’t worry about me. I’ll just go home and lie down for a bit.” I pushed Sera toward Asher, my steps hurried. “You’ll be late for the movie. I’m really okay.” “No!” Sera grabbed my arm, her face etched with worry. “You look terrible. We’re going to the hospital right now. I’m taking you.” “You don’t have to!” I pleaded, my eyes welling with tears. “Sera, I know my own body. It’s just a little stomach bug. A hot cup of water and some rest, and I’ll be fine. If you don’t go now, you’ll miss the movie for sure!” Asher stood by, his expression a chaotic mix of guilt, panic, and a deep-seated fear he wouldn’t even admit to himself. Sera was about to argue, but Asher gently took her arm. He shook his head, his voice low. “Let her go home and rest. She really doesn’t look well. I’ll buy some medicine and drop it off at the house later.” Sera looked from me to Asher, and finally relented. “Alright, you go home and get some rest. Call me immediately if you feel worse.” “I will, Sera.” I watched them walk away, side by side, and let out a long, shuddering breath. My back was soaked with cold sweat. Without a moment’s delay, I pulled out my phone, called a car, and headed straight for the hospital. In the car, my phone vibrated. A message from Asher. [You’re not pregnant, are you?] The short sentence landed like a ton of bricks on my chest. My fingertips were ice-cold as I typed back: [No.] The indicator showed that he was typing a reply. The cursor blinked for a long time, but no new message appeared. Seeing his hesitation, I typed another line. [There is nothing between you and me. Never was.] [Just focus on your date with my sister. Treat her right. You don’t need to worry about anything else.] After hitting send, I put my phone on silent. I opened a group chat with my classmates. The class president was organizing a trip to see a meteor shower in a few days. I opened the sign-up sheet and added my name to the list. The car pulled up to the hospital. I walked straight to the gynecology department and scheduled the soonest available abortion procedure. The procedure was quick. It didn’t hurt as much as I had imagined. It just felt, for a brief moment, like something had been untethered from my body. After a short rest, I took the post-op diagnosis sheet and walked out of the hospital. The moment I stepped outside, a large hand clamped down on my wrist. Asher stood before me, his face a thunderous mask of anger and panic. His eyes were glued to the paper in my hand. “Lena, what are you doing at the hospital?” “You’re pregnant, aren’t you? Are you going to take that report to Sera?” His voice was a harsh, ragged whisper. “What are you trying to do? Ruin us?” His grip was painfully tight. I looked up and saw the raw fear in his eyes. He really was terrified of losing Sera over what happened between us. I held the diagnosis sheet up to his face, my voice calm and devoid of emotion. “Asher, read it carefully.” He looked down, his eyes scanning the text. His pupils contracted violently.

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It wasn’t until the absolute chaos erupted in our living room that I finally understood the vicious rumors at school weren’t just empty gossip. Men in sharp black suits pinned my mother to the cold hardwood floor. A woman stood over her, her face twisted in pure disgust, screaming that she was going to permanently ruin the seductive face my mother prized so much. My father stood a few feet away. He watched the entire scene with dead, detached eyes, like a spectator at a play. He didn’t say a single word. That was the day I learned the truth. My mother really was a homewrecker. Before this, I had heard the whispers in the school hallways. Once, a boy in my class shouted it right in my face. I was shaking with so much rage I shoved him into a desk. Back then, I naively believed they were just bored teenagers spreading toxic rumors. 1 The wealthy woman adjusted her designer coat, her high heels clicking sharply against the floor as she prepared to leave with my father in tow. Before walking out the door, she looked down at my mother with absolute contempt. “I bought this house with my money. You aren’t getting a single dime. By tomorrow morning, you and your bastard daughter need to pack your trash and get out. If you ever contact Marcus again, I will end you.” Marcus was my father. He was a gold-digger, a man from a dirt-poor background who married his way into a wealthy family. He was their kept man. And today was the day I found out my mother was nothing more than his side piece. Her beautiful face, the one she was so incredibly proud of, was bruised and scratched. My father’s legitimate wife, Victoria, was absolutely ruthless. She didn’t even wait until the next morning. A few hours later, a crew of massive security guards showed up to physically throw us out on the street. My mother collapsed on the floor, sobbing uncontrollably. I was the only one left to pack our lives into a few suitcases. I barely managed to grab our clothes before they started shoving us toward the door. My mother refused to leave. The mix of tears and fresh scratches on her face made her look terrifying. But these men didn’t care about being gentle. We were no longer the pampered mistresses of the house. She was practically thrown out the front door. She pounded her fists against the heavy wood, screaming at the top of her lungs. “Why are you kicking me out?! This is my house! I’m calling the cops!” The banging echoed down the hall. Neighbors peeked out of their doors, but no one inside our old apartment answered. “Mom, let’s just go. They aren’t going to open it,” I said softly. She shoved my hand away. “No! Marcus is the one who screwed up! Why do we have to pay the price?!” She had a point. But screaming at a locked door wasn’t going to fix anything. Eventually, the building security guards forcibly escorted us off the property. The entire thing happened so fast I barely had time to process it. My first priority was getting my mother to a clinic to treat the cuts on her face. My second priority was finding a cheap place to sleep. Between the two of us, we had exactly four hundred dollars to our names. When my mother followed my father to this city years ago, she had no friends, no family, and absolutely no work experience. She was a full-time kept woman. Her only hobby was playing card games with the other housewives in our upscale complex. Marcus had treated us well. At least financially, we never wanted for anything. He was always “traveling for work,” so he wasn’t home much. But whenever he did visit, he brought expensive gifts and exotic food. Nobody would have ever guessed what he really was. Looking back, his “business trips” were just him going home to his real wife. Coming to our apartment was the actual trip. Later that night, my mother lay in her clinic bed, aggressively tapping on her phone to play a mobile poker game. I sat in the plastic chair next to her. “Mom.” “What?” she muttered. “Did you know he was married?” She didn’t answer. Her eyes stayed glued to the glowing screen. That told me everything I needed to know. She knew. She knew he had a family, she knew he had a terrifyingly powerful wife, and she knew he had a son two years older than me. I pulled my knees to my chest and started chewing on my fingernails. 2 I managed to find a tiny, run-down studio apartment tucked away in a sketchy alley. Rent was two hundred bucks a month. My mother threw a massive fit the second we walked in. “What is this dump? It smells like rotting garbage!” she shrieked. “Oh my god, is that a cockroach?! Are there rats in here?! I am not staying in this hellhole!” I set our bags down on the stained carpet and just stood there, letting her scream it out. After a solid ten minutes of crying, she finally wiped her eyes. “Fine. But stop looking at me like that.” The apartment wasn’t just old. It was incredibly loud, the hot water barely worked, and the power grid was a joke. I had to drop out of my expensive private boarding school and enroll as a day student at the local public high school. I was in my freshman year. At ten o’clock on a Tuesday night, the power went out again. It was the third time that week. I calmly lit a cheap candle, pulled my math textbook closer to the flickering light, and kept solving equations. I had always been a calm person. Even with my entire world imploding, I didn’t feel like the sky was falling. Success always comes with a few detours. That was the lie I kept repeating to myself, even if I didn’t fully believe it. But I knew one thing for sure. The only way out of this miserable alleyway was studying. I needed a scholarship to a good college. A stupid power outage wasn’t going to stop me. But bad luck usually travels in packs. My mother’s sudden, blood-curdling scream pierced through the dark apartment. “Mom? What’s wrong?” I yelled. I heard her gasping for air. I dropped my pencil and sprinted into the tiny living room. A dark shadow darted away from the window, disappearing into the alley before I could even shout. I ripped the curtains shut and locked the latch. My mother was sitting on the floor, trembling violently. I knelt down next to her. “Did you see his face? What did he look like?” I asked. Her voice shook. “It was a man. Short and skinny. I didn’t see his face.” We lived on the ground floor. Whoever was looking through our window had done it on purpose. Ever since we moved in, the entire block knew this apartment was only occupied by a single mother and her teenage daughter. There were no security bars on the glass. We definitely didn’t have the money to install them. I grabbed a stack of old test papers and taped them directly to the windowpanes, completely blocking the view from the outside. I knew it was a temporary fix, but I didn’t expect the real test to happen so soon. 3 A week later, I had a massive state-wide placement exam. In our district, this test determined if you got into the elite magnet high schools for your sophomore year. I needed that golden ticket. I stayed up reviewing my notes until two in the morning. Just as I was grabbing a glass of water before bed, I heard a faint scratching sound coming from the window. It would stop, then start again. Then came a soft, rhythmic tapping on the glass. It was cautious. Testing the waters to see if anyone inside was awake. My heart hammered against my ribs. I silently grabbed the heavy metal baseball bat I had found by the dumpsters and stepped into the shadows beside the window, gripping the handle tight. The tapping stopped. I heard the faint whistle of wind pushing through a crack. The window was sliding open. I tightened my grip. The moonlight spilled onto the floor, stretching the silhouette of a man climbing through the frame. Now. I swung the bat with every ounce of strength I had in my body. There was a sickening thud of metal hitting bone, followed by a muffled, agonizing groan. The man collapsed onto the floor like a sack of bricks and didn’t move. I dropped the bat, my hands shaking violently. I nudged his leg with my foot. Nothing. All the adrenaline completely drained from my body. My knees gave out, and I slid down the wall until I hit the floor, gasping for air. My mother definitely heard the commotion. A second later, a frying pan clattered to the kitchen floor. She rushed out of her room, eyes wide with terror, and threw her arms around me. “Are you hurt? Did he touch you?” she frantically checked my face. I shook my head. “No. But Mom, I think I hit him too hard.” I had completely cracked his skull open. When the police arrived, my mother shoved me behind her and stood tall. “I hit him, officer. It was me,” she told the cops at the door. They took both my mother and the unconscious creep to the station. I went with them, but they kept me in the waiting room. The next morning, a police officer actually drove me to school so I wouldn’t miss my placement exam. When I finally got home, my mother was sitting on the couch, completely unharmed. The cops had found chloroform in the guy’s jacket pocket. His intentions were obvious. Busting his head open was ruled as clear-cut self-defense. My mother immediately went back to her usual complaining. “Look at your hair, Harper. It’s a mess,” she nagged. “And that uniform is huge on you. You look like you’re wearing Marcus’s clothes.” She stopped abruptly and looked down at her hands. “Mom,” I said quietly. “Thank you.” She turned her face away. “I know you’re furious with Marcus. Go ahead and curse him out. I hate him too.” “You don’t understand,” she muttered, her voice breaking. “He lied to me. He played with my feelings. He swore he loved me, but when Victoria was literally dragging me across the floor, he just stood there. He didn’t even try to stop her.” I knew her story. My mother grew up in a dirt-poor Appalachian coal town. She was the oldest of five kids. In places like that, the oldest daughter is basically born to suffer and sacrifice. She had no education and had never seen the world. Marcus had come to her town as a corporate land developer. He played the charming, wealthy city boy, and she fell for it instantly. She ran away with him to the city. She stayed with him for sixteen years. He had spoiled her rotten, effectively turning her into a woman who couldn’t survive on her own. After a decade and a half of luxury, she had zero practical skills. She was entirely dependent on him. These past few weeks had been a living nightmare for her. I walked over and hugged her tight. “Mom, you still have me. We’re going to survive this. We’re going to be okay.” She turned her head into my shoulder and quietly began to cry. 4 The stress of the break-in messed with my head. I missed the cutoff for the elite magnet school by a few points, but I scored high enough to get into Oakridge High, the second-best school in the city. It wasn’t perfect, but Oakridge was known for its academics, which meant I could skip the mandatory evening study halls if I kept my grades up. My mother had no degree and a massive gap in her resume. Finding a traditional job was impossible. So, she bought a secondhand food cart and started selling late-night smashburgers near the local university. Since I didn’t have to stay at school for night study, I rushed over to the cart every evening to help her. She didn’t understand modern marketing, but I did. I made an Instagram account for the cart, ran student discount promotions, and posted mouth-watering videos of the food. Sales skyrocketed. Sometimes jealous food truck owners would try to start turf wars with us, but my mother was relentless. Nobody could out-argue her. Month by month, our savings account grew. We finally had enough cash to move out of that dangerous alley. We rented a decent two-bedroom apartment near Oakridge High. It was an older building, but it was in a safe, quiet neighborhood filled with retired city workers. “I’m buying you a bicycle before school starts,” she told me proudly as we unpacked. “It’s only a five-minute ride to campus. You can sleep in a little later.” Things were finally getting better. On my first day at Oakridge, my mother walked me out to the street to see me off. At my old school, everyone knew my business. People would stare at me in the hallways and whisper, “That’s her. Her mom is a total homewrecker.” Whenever I heard that, I would confront them. If words didn’t work, I used my fists. I usually got blamed for starting the fights, and they would just sneer at me afterward. “She thinks she’s untouchable just because she gets straight A’s. Her mom is still a whore.” But Oakridge was different. Nobody knew me here. The students actually cared about their futures. Instead of throwing chairs around the classroom, they debated math problems in the halls. Every Monday, a different homeroom hosted the morning assembly. Our class was up first, and my teacher randomly selected me to be the student speaker. It was my first time doing something so public, but I wasn’t nervous. The speech went perfectly. High school let out at four, but the library was open until nine. After studying, I would usually ride my bike to the university district, help my mom pack up the food cart, and we’d go home together. But tonight was different. When I walked out to the bike racks, both of my tires were completely slashed. This was a brand-new bike. Somebody had done this on purpose. I racked my brain, but I hadn’t offended a single person since I transferred. I kept my head down and did my work. By the time I realized I couldn’t fix it, the campus was completely deserted. I pushed the broken bike down into the underground parking garage to use the shortcut to the main road. The fluorescent lights overhead flickered wildly, buzzing with static before completely dying. The garage plunged into pitch blackness. Footsteps echoed from the darkness behind me. With every heavy step, the motion-sensor lights clicked on, one by one, illuminating the path toward me. I slowly turned around. Standing in the harsh light was a face I didn’t know, but recognized instantly.

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1 On my wedding day, as Dennis waited at the altar, I did not run. Instead, I walked toward him arm in arm with his biggest rival, holding up a newly stamped document. “You can keep the wedding party,” I said calmly. “I already gave him the marriage license.” The night before, a hotel keycard had led me to the same suite where Dennis once proposed. But inside, I found him in bed with another woman. He barely flinched, lighting a cigarette as he explained he was tired of hiding the affair. “You’ll still be my wife,” he shrugged, claiming no one else would marry me after the ten years I’d spent building his company. “The wedding goes on—just not with her name on the license.” I didn’t scream or cry. Silently, I slid off my engagement ring, set it down, and walked out. The morning sun felt unnaturally bright. “Here she comes. The bride is finally coming out.” A swarm of paparazzi crowded the entrance of my hotel. Camera flashes blinded me like strobe lights. “Mona, how are you feeling on your big day?” “What do you have to say about the multimillion-dollar wedding Dennis prepared for you?” I ignored the microphones shoved in my face and stepped into the back of the waiting Maybach under the protection of my security detail. The ceremony was set to take place at Trinity Cathedral on the Upper East Side. Dennis was already standing on the stone steps of the church. He wore a pristine white tuxedo and a smile that screamed absolute control. He had called me earlier that morning. He complained that he was exhausted from his extracurricular activities last night and needed to sleep in, which was his excuse for not picking me up from the hotel. He was incredibly confident that I would still show up. His best man, Carter, let out a loud whistle as my car pulled up. He nudged Dennis in the ribs, flashing a sleazy grin. “She actually came.” “You have some serious game, man,” Carter chuckled. “You play around all night, and your bride still shows up looking like an angel. That is what I call proper training.” Another groomsman, Nate, leaned in to join the joke. “No kidding. Any other guy would be dead on his feet after a night like that, but you are standing here looking like the groom of the year. Respect.” The group of men broke into a chorus of arrogant laughter. The corner of Dennis’s mouth twitched upward. “Mona has been attached to me for a decade,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. “Who else would possibly want her?” He glanced down at his pocket, likely thinking about the ring I had left behind. “Throwing a little temper tantrum is normal. But at the end of the day, she is still going to walk up those steps and hand her life over to me.” Carter gave him a thumbs-up. The chauffeur opened my door. I stepped out onto the pavement, the layers of my custom silk gown catching the morning light. A flash of genuine awe crossed Dennis’s face. “My wife looks absolutely stunning,” he murmured. Before he could step forward to take my hand, his phone buzzed violently in his pocket. He glanced at the screen, and his attention was completely stolen. A fond, indulgent smile spread across his lips as he stepped away from the crowd to answer the call. “What is wrong? I told you to call me later.” A sickeningly sweet, whiny voice filtered through the speaker, loud enough for me to hear. “Dennis, I am flying out to Paris this afternoon. I booked an appointment at City Hall in ten minutes. Can you please come down here? I really want to get our paperwork signed before I leave.” “Ten minutes?” Dennis let out a low, teasing laugh. “Are you really in that much of a rush?” He hung up the phone. Carter stepped closer, looking curious. “Who was that?” “Brianna.” Dennis slipped the phone back into his tailored pocket, his eyes shining with a fresh spark of excitement. “She is flying to Europe this afternoon and insists on signing the marriage license before she goes. She was whining so much I could not say no.” Carter raised his eyebrows. “What about your wedding?” “What is the rush?” Dennis brushed off the concern entirely. “The ceremony takes at least two hours. I will run down to City Hall. It will only take ten minutes. You know how Brianna is. If I do not go coax her right now, she will actually throw a crying fit at the airport.” Carter knew better than to argue with him. Dennis walked back over to me, casually wrapping an arm around my shoulders. He waved at the official wedding photographer. “Take a quick picture of us for the memories.” The shutter clicked once, and Dennis immediately checked his luxury watch. “Alright, that is enough for now. I have to leave, or I will miss my appointment.” He turned his back on me and started walking briskly toward his private SUV. “Dennis.” I stood perfectly still on the pavement and called his name. He paused, turning his head to look over his shoulder. His eyes still held that careless, arrogant certainty. “If you leave right now,” I said, enunciating every single word, “I am going to swap the groom.” He stared at me for a second before bursting into laughter. It was a mocking, dismissive sound. “Swap the groom? Where exactly are you going to find one? Do you think we are living in a soap opera?” “Everyone in this city knows you belong to me.” “But hey,” he added, pulling his car door open, “if you actually have the skills to find a man brave enough to marry you today, I will gladly give you my blessing.” He threw one last patronizing look my way. “Stop throwing tantrums, be a good girl, and wait for me inside. I know how to handle these girls on the side. I have limits.” The groomsmen standing behind him exchanged awkward glances. Carter took a few steps forward. “Dennis, are you seriously leaving?” “Just keep the guests entertained. It is not like I am disappearing forever.” Dennis slammed his car door shut. His voice was laced with impatience and eagerness. “That little girl is way too much trouble to pacify. I do not want a headache later.” The engine roared, and the SUV sped down the avenue, disappearing into the city traffic. I stood completely alone on the church steps. The wind caught the long train of my veil, whipping it through the air. The photographer lowered his camera, shifting his weight uncomfortably in the deafening silence. Nobody dared to speak. I looked down at the empty space on my left ring finger, and a slow, genuine smile spread across my face. Go ahead, Dennis. Go sign your little piece of paper. Because I am going to happily accept this multimillion-dollar wedding you left behind. I gathered the heavy fabric of my skirt and walked gracefully into the cathedral. The guests were seated, the priest was waiting at the altar, and the string quartet was already playing the bridal chorus. Everything was absolutely flawless. The only thing missing was the groom. Carter rushed up beside me, forcing a stiff, awkward smile onto his face. “Mona, Dennis had a tiny emergency. He will be right back. Why do you not just take a seat in the bridal suite for a bit?” Nate hurried over to back him up. “Exactly. You know Dennis always has his priorities straight. It is your big day. He will be here any minute.” “Yeah, Dennis never drops the ball when it matters.” They talked over each other, desperately trying to spin a runaway groom into a minor scheduling delay. I glanced up at the massive vintage clock near the stained glass window. It was twenty minutes to eleven. “Okay. I will wait for him.” I dismissed them with a calm nod. Carter let out a massive sigh of relief and immediately started ordering the catering staff to bring me water and appetizers. I was willing to wait. But nobody needed to know exactly who I was waiting for. This wedding had been hyped up in the media for three solid months. Every important relative and business partner from Dennis’s side was sitting in those pews. I let my eyes wander over the breathtaking details of the room. A cascading waterfall of white roses framed the massive windows. Curtains of crystal beads hung from the vaulted ceiling. Even the elegant calligraphy on the seating cards was custom-designed by an artist he hired from Paris. That was just who Dennis was. When he wanted to do something, he executed it to absolute perfection. He pursued me with that same intensity. He planned this wedding with that same intensity. And unfortunately, he committed treason with that exact same intensity. He left absolutely zero room for negotiation and zero room for an explanation. In his twisted mind, showering a woman with luxury and deeply betraying her were two completely separate things. He firmly believed that my only option was to accept whatever crumbs he handed me. Inside the bridal suite, my best friend Harper was pacing the floor in a blind rage. She had flown all the way from Monaco just to be my maid of honor. “Is Dennis completely out of his mind? Leaving his own wedding to sign papers with another woman? Did he suffer a traumatic brain injury?” She dropped onto the velvet sofa, violently tugging at the tulle of her bridesmaid dress. “I thought he was just making empty threats yesterday. Who actually does something this vile on the day of their wedding?” Her voice shook with a fiery mix of anger and heartbreak on my behalf. “When you two were planning this, he drove across the entire state just to find the exact species of flower you wanted for your bouquet. When you tried on your dress, he started crying before you even stepped off the pedestal.” “I was so jealous of the way he looked at you that I literally picked a fight with my own boyfriend.” Her voice cracked slightly. “Who could have ever predicted he would turn around and do something like this?” I stayed silent, casually scrolling through my phone. Brianna had just posted a new update on her social media feed. The photo showed a messy hotel floor littered with a man’s discarded dress shirt and a pile of sheer lingerie. The caption read: Someone promised he would only stay for ten minutes, but now he refuses to leave my bed. She made sure to tag her location. She was nowhere near City Hall. One of our mutual acquaintances left a comment: Brianna, who are you trying to piss off today? Brianna replied publicly: Whoever is standing around in a wedding dress waiting for a man who is never coming. I stared at the screen, completely devoid of emotion, and took a screenshot. “Mona, stop waiting for him.” Harper snatched the phone out of my hand. “Look at this garbage. Look at the kind of people they are.” “You gave up your life in London after graduation just to move back here for him. Do you know how furious your parents were?” “Dennis was an absolute nobody back then. You bet your entire future and ten years of your life against your parents, and now you have lost everything.” “You stayed up for countless nights drafting business proposals for him. You secretly used your status as a shipping magnate’s daughter to secure his funding. He would be nothing without you pushing his company to the top.” “And he repays you by sleeping with the daughter of one of his investors.” “He is a psychopath. He played the perfect, loving fiancé right up until the night before the wedding, just so he could blindside you in a hotel room.” Harper was crying now, wiping angry tears from her face. “Mona, please. Stop waiting for him. It is time you finally live for yourself.” “Harper, thank you for flying out today. As soon as this ceremony is over, I am going to go home and tell my parents that they won.” I was willing to accept the consequences of my lost bet. Today was the day I paid the price for my own blindness. After calming my best friend down, and finally making peace with myself, I walked out of the suite and headed toward the balcony at the end of the hall for some fresh air. Just as I reached for the brass handle, I heard men talking on the other side of the door. It was the groomsmen, hiding outside to smoke. “Is Dennis seriously not coming back?” “He said Brianna is practically glued to him. He cannot get away. He told us to just keep stalling.” Carter exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. “How much longer do you think Mona is going to tolerate this?” “Look at her today. She put on the dress, she walked the press line, her groom abandoned her, and she has not shed a single tear.” “A wife with that much patience is a rare find,” Nate sighed. “Dennis really does not know how lucky he is.” “Dennis does not care about luck right now. That little succubus has him completely mesmerized. The man has lost his mind.” The group erupted into quiet chuckles. Then, someone initiated a video call. “Dennis, you finally picked up. Mona is still waiting in the bridal suite. It is getting really ugly over here. You need to come back.” A heavy, suggestive rustling sound came through the phone’s speaker. “Can you not see that I am busy?” Dennis’s voice was rough, thick with impatience and the unmistakable gravel of lust. “I am not coming back. Just buy everyone a round of drinks and keep them seated.” “Alright, whatever you say, boss,” Carter chuckled nervously. “At least your bride is easy to manipulate.” Before he could finish his sentence, I pushed the heavy balcony door wide open. The smirks on their faces vanished instantly. Carter aggressively hid his phone behind his back. “Mona.” I looked at the group of men. “The wedding starts in exactly three minutes.”

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At our company retreat, the new intern Finn won the grand prize, a luxury Swiss watch, and whispers spread. Some called him lucky. Others wondered how someone with his background got hired here. There was talk that he had closed a key account in just a week and that a wealthy CEO girlfriend spoiled him endlessly. I stood by, stirring my drink, filled with bitterness. As a Stanford graduate and top performer, I kept missing promotions due to odd setbacks. I swallowed my pride each time because my bedridden girlfriend relied on me. Her care drained me financially, and I had even given up bonuses just to keep my job and insurance. Later, needing air, I stepped outside and saw Finn on the phone in the garden, beaming. “I only wished for that watch yesterday,” he laughed. “Did you set this up?” A woman’s voice, elegant and amused, came through the speaker: “Don’t be silly. You’re my little lucky star.” The tumbler I had won as a consolation prize fell from my hand and hit the ground with a clatter. I knew that voice. It was Diana’s. The same woman I bathed and turned every night in her hospital bed. 1 Before my brain could even process the sound, Finn ended the call. He turned around, saw me standing there, and scratched the back of his neck with a sheepish grin. “Oh, hey Jake. What are you doing out here?” I forced the corners of my mouth up. “Just getting some air. Wrapped up your call?” “Yeah.” He waved his phone, the tips of his ears turning a faint pink. “That was my girl. She insists I won the watch purely on luck, but I swear she secretly pulled some strings.” “Your girl… what exactly does she do?” He blinked, adopting a secretive little smirk. “She’s just a regular working-class girl, honestly.” “But I feel like she’s hiding something from me,” he continued. “Did you know this watch just hit the market? You can only get it at exclusive boutiques. I mentioned it to her exactly once. Isn’t that crazy?” He leaned in a little closer. “Jake, do you think all women like to play poor just to test their boyfriends?” A regular working-class girl. Playing poor. I thought about my actual poor girlfriend, and my mind completely blanked. A sudden, violent wave of nausea hit my stomach. I couldn’t breathe. Finn noticed my face draining of color. “Jake? Are you okay? You look like a ghost.” I swallowed the bile rising in my throat and forced another weak smile. “I’m fine. Just had a bit too much to drink. Feel a little sick.” He nodded, not prying further. He was too caught up in his own perfect world. “I really think she’s my personal wishing well,” he rambled on. “With my resume, I never should have gotten into this firm. I made one passing comment to her about applying, and the very next day HR sent me an offer.” “And get this. Even though she’s always stuck in the hospital, I told her last week I needed a new phone. The next morning, her driver dropped the latest model off at my front door.” I stared at his bright, beaming face, my ears ringing. The only word echoing in my skull was hospital. Something tight and painful twisted in my chest. I couldn’t stop myself from asking. “Wait. You said she’s in the hospital?” “Yeah.” Finn laughed lightly. “It’s nothing serious. Just a minor health thing.” A minor health thing. The air left my lungs in a quiet rush of relief. That didn’t match Diana’s severe spinal issues. Not even close. I gave a slow nod. “If she’s arranging all this for you from a hospital bed, she must really care about you.” “That’s what everyone says.” He rubbed the back of his neck again. “Anyway, I gotta run. My girl said she wants to celebrate tonight. See ya.” I stood frozen in the cool evening breeze. I looked at the multi-million dollar watch strapped to his healthy, youthful wrist. Then I looked down at my own hands. My lower back ached a dull, persistent pain from three years of lifting and turning Diana in her bed. I didn’t own a single decent accessory. The gap between two people’s lives could be an absolute abyss. My phone vibrated in my pocket. A text from Diana. [How was the retreat? Did you have fun?] I stared at the glowing screen. Out of pure habit, I typed a cheerful lie. [It was great. I even won a nice tumbler.] The truth was, everyone who didn’t win a real prize was handed a tumbler. [Well, at least you didn’t leave empty-handed. I’ll buy you something much better in the future.] The future. She had been feeding me that word for three years, and like a fool, I always swallowed it down. We were broke now, but the doctors said her condition was curable. She just needed two more years of intense rehabilitation. All I had to do was grit my teeth and push through. I locked my screen and headed toward the street to pick up the custom cake I had ordered. Another message popped up. [It’s getting late. Just go home and rest tonight. Don’t come all the way here, I don’t want you exhausting yourself.] I stared at the words, my thumb hovering over the glass. Today was my birthday. We had made plans an entire week ago. I was supposed to bring home a raffle prize as my own gift, buy a cake, and celebrate in her room. Did she forget? I hesitated for a long moment, but I still went to the bakery. I picked up the box, stood on the curb, and flagged down a cab. “Mercy General, please.” When I stepped off the elevator and approached the nurses’ station, the night-shift nurse glanced up. All the color instantly drained from her face. “M-Mr. Jake?” 2 She shot out of her chair so fast it nearly tipped over backward. “What are you doing here?” “Visiting hours,” I said simply. “It’s so late.” Her eyes darted nervously toward Room 606. Her voice was tight. “Diana is already asleep. Maybe you should come back tomorrow.” “It’s my birthday today.” I took two steps forward, my tone even. “It won’t mean anything if I wait until tomorrow.” She stepped out from behind the desk, physically blocking my path. I stared at her. My chest tightened. In three years, the staff had never once stopped me from walking into that room. “I’m just going to take a quick look.” I sidestepped her, walking straight down the hall, and pushed open the door to Room 606. I froze. The bed was perfectly made. Empty. The nurse ran in behind me, panting heavily. “Where is she?” I turned around, my eyes locking onto hers. She forced an agonizingly fake smile. “Diana had to… she had to go down for a late-night scan.” “A late-night scan?” I frowned, the unease in my gut twisting tighter. “A minute ago you said she was asleep. And since when does her treatment plan include midnight scans?” The nurse avoided my gaze, her fingers fidgeting. “I just remembered the schedule.” Before she could invent another excuse, my phone erupted in a violent vibration. It was my department director. A massive crisis with our current project. Everyone was ordered back to the office immediately. I closed my eyes. This project was tied to a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. I gritted my teeth, shoving the bakery box into the nurse’s hands. “Please. When she gets back, give this to her. Tell her she has to eat it. Inside there is…” I stopped myself. I didn’t finish the sentence. Inside that cake was a diamond ring. I had saved up three months of my salary to buy it. I wanted to propose to her on my birthday. I wanted to give her the security she always cried about lacking, to prove I would never abandon her. The baker had buried it deep in the sponge. Digging it out now would ruin the whole thing. An ordinary guy’s proposal didn’t need to be some grand spectacle. The intention was what mattered. The nurse looked overwhelmingly relieved to have me leaving. “Of course, Mr. Jake. I’ll make sure she eats it.” The second I rushed into the office, my director’s message popped up on my screen. “The rest of the team has kids and families to get home to, or they lack the technical skills. I need you to rewrite the entire proposal. Thanks for stepping up.” I let out a long, exhausted breath. It was always like this. Every single emergency, every impossible deadline fell squarely on my shoulders. Everyone else had a wife, a husband, kids, aging parents. And me? My parents passed away years ago, I had no kids, and my girlfriend was confined to a hospital bed. “Thanks for stepping up” was corporate code for “you have no life, so do the work.” And despite all this, I was the one constantly ending up on the chopping block during layoff season. I sank into my chair and started rewriting the data. I worked in a brutal, caffeine-fueled haze until three in the morning. Finally, my director sent a one-line reply. “Never mind, the client decided to go with the original version.” I stared at the blinding white screen. A bitter, hollow laugh escaped my lips. I pulled out my phone and sent Diana a text. [Emergency at work. Couldn’t make it. Please make sure you eat the cake.] My brain was entirely fried. I hit send, crossed my arms on my desk, and passed out right there. When dawn broke, the office slowly filled with the hum of arriving coworkers. I bolted upright and immediately checked my phone. No new messages. Not a single “Happy Birthday.” My heart sank like a stone. “Morning, Jake!” Finn dropped his designer leather bag onto the desk next to mine. “Everything get sorted with the project last night?” I blinked, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. He was in a completely different division. How did he know about my project emergency? Before I could ask, a notification flashed across the company-wide chat. [Mandatory morning assembly. Attendance required.] My pulse jumped. A few days ago, the regional director pulled me into his office. He praised my numbers and heavily implied the open Vice President slot in Division One was practically mine. They were going to announce it today. “Another meeting.” Finn groaned, rolling his eyes as he headed for the door. He clapped me on the shoulder as he passed. “Let’s go, Jake. Better not be late.” I shook off my exhaustion and followed him into the conference room. The moment I stepped through the double doors, the atmosphere felt entirely wrong. “There he is,” someone whispered loudly. “You gotta feel bad for the guy. Working a corporate job all day and moonlighting as a male nurse all night. No wonder he looks half-dead.” “Milking the company for overtime pay isn’t enough, he has to work two jobs? Isn’t moonlighting a fireable offense here?” I frowned, my chest tightening. They were talking about me. 3 When the company did its last round of layoffs, I surrendered my right to overtime pay just to keep my position. Between my daytime hours and spending every night at the hospital caring for Diana, I barely had time to sleep. I definitely didn’t have time for a second job. The HR Director stepped up to the podium, tapping the microphone. He gave a brief corporate speech before pulling out the promotion list. I held my breath. For once, there were no data leaks, no client back-outs, no mysterious blunders attached to my name. I was finally going to get the title and the salary I bled for. Then the HR Director spoke, and his words hit me like a bucket of ice water. “The new Vice President of Division One is Finn!” The room fell dead silent for a second before polite, scattered applause broke out. Finn stood up, flashing a brilliant, humble smile as he bowed slightly to the room. “Why?” I shot up from my seat. My chair scraped violently across the hardwood floor. The HR Director pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his expression entirely devoid of sympathy. “Jake, do you have an issue with this decision?” He paused, likely realizing that ignoring my track record outright would look terrible. “You are a highly capable employee. On paper, you are more than qualified for the VP role. However, moonlighting as an outside caregiver violates your employment contract.” “I am not moonlighting,” I argued, my voice echoing in the quiet room. Before I could finish, the projector screen behind him flickered to life. It was a slideshow of photographs. Me, leaning over a hospital bed. Me, wiping a patient’s face with a warm towel. Me, massaging someone’s atrophied legs. They didn’t capture Diana’s face clearly, but the man doing the grueling, intimate work was undeniably me. The words died in my throat. When the assembly ended, the crowd filtered out in small, gossiping groups. Finn strolled over to me, lowering his voice to a sympathetic hum. “Jake, I’ve heard so much about you. Stanford grad, hardest worker in the building. Everyone knows you’re the absolute best.” He offered a soft, almost innocent smile. “Just yesterday, I was telling my girl how nice it would be to have the best employee in the company working under me. That way, I could sleep in a little later.” “And look at that. Today I’m the VP. I’m your boss.” His eyes sparkled with amusement. “Crazy coincidence, right? You think my girl set this up too?” I slowly raised my head to look at him. My eyes dragged away from my phone screen, where a new email from HR had just dropped. [Notice of Reassignment: North African Branch] It felt like someone had shoved a fistful of cotton down my windpipe. I couldn’t speak. I didn’t even wait for the clock to hit five. I walked out of the building, hailed a cab, and headed straight for Mercy General. All I could think about on the ride over was how I was going to explain this to Diana. The promotion I had promised her was gone. Instead, I had a one-way ticket to a developing country. I pushed open the door to Room 606. She was lying in bed, the white blanket pulled up to her chest. She looked mildly surprised to see me. “Jake? Isn’t it the middle of the workday? What are you doing here?” I didn’t say a word. “What’s wrong? Did someone give you a hard time?” She pushed herself up slightly, patting the edge of the mattress. “Come sit. I’m here. Who messed with you?” A sharp burn stung the back of my eyes. I was half a second away from telling her everything. That I was refusing the transfer. That I was going to quit and find something else. But I swallowed the words down. She was recovering. I couldn’t pile my failures onto her fragile health. “I took some time off. Just wanted to see you.” I pulled up a plastic chair and sat down, my eyes dropping to the blanket covering her motionless legs. “How are you feeling today?” “Alright.” She coughed softly. “Physical therapy was exhausting.” I nodded. My mind drifted to last night. To the cake. My gaze shifted to her right hand resting on the sheets. To her ring finger. My heart skipped a violent beat. She was wearing a ring. “Jake,” she murmured, reaching out to cup my hand. “You worked all night again, didn’t you? You sacrifice so much for me.” “When I’m completely better, I’ll never let you suffer like this again. You can do whatever you want. You won’t have to take orders from anyone.” She had recited that exact script for three years. And every time, it made the exhaustion feel worth it. Even though she hadn’t mentioned my birthday once. It didn’t matter. She was wearing the ring. That was all the answer I needed. “Yeah.” I nodded gently, my thumb brushing against the cool metal on her finger. I slowly turned the band around, my chest tight with emotion. “Diana, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you. Let’s get mar—” The words froze on my tongue. I stared at the jewelry. This wasn’t the ring I bought. “What is it?” she asked, sensing my sudden rigidity. I stood up so fast the chair wobbled. “Nothing. Nothing… I have to get back to the office. I only took a two-hour lunch.” She nodded and told me to be careful on the way back. I practically sprinted out of the hospital room. I closed the door, my ears buzzing with white noise. When it rains, it pours. My life was becoming a tragic comedy. The baker must have lost the ring I gave him and panicked, buying a cheap replica to hide in the cake instead. He had no idea what he had done. The ring I bought had the numbers “328” hand-engraved on the inner band. It was the date of our anniversary. It meant everything. Ten minutes into my cab ride back to the office, I reached into my pocket and realized my desk keys were missing. I had left them on the plastic chair in Diana’s room. I rubbed my temples. “Driver, turn around. Back to the hospital.” The cab idled outside the main entrance. I jogged up the stairs, navigating the familiar sterile corridors. I reached Room 606 and raised my hand to push the door. Voices drifted from the crack in the doorway. Voices that had no business being in a patient’s room. 4 I froze in my tracks. “Ms. Diana, everything you requested has been handled.” “Jake’s promotion was successfully intercepted. The VP title was given to Finn.” “You and Finn were out together yesterday and Jake nearly caught you. Thankfully, you know Jake’s habits perfectly. You had me watching him like a hawk. The second he showed up at the hospital, I had his director call him back to the office for emergency revisions.” “And just like the previous times, the leaked proposals, the clients backing out, the slashed budgets… all executed exactly to your orders.” “The goal remains the same. Ensure his bank account is drained perfectly to cover your ‘medical expenses.’ Make sure he never saves a single dime.” I stood in the hallway, my knees threatening to buckle beneath me. Ms. Diana? Intercepted? Never saves a single dime… I clenched my fists so hard my nails bit into my palms. I clamped my jaw shut to keep from making a sound. “That big project he just finished was supposed to carry a two-hundred-thousand-dollar bonus. I had HR freeze it. He’s only getting two thousand.” Silence stretched inside the room for a few agonizing seconds. Then, Diana’s voice cut through the air. It wasn’t weak. It wasn’t sick. It was cold, steady, and sharp. “Good.” “But, Ms. Diana,” Marcus, her assistant, sounded slightly hesitant. “How much longer do you plan on keeping up this act?” “With Jake’s resume and work ethic, if he were at any other firm, he’d be a senior executive by now. He genuinely thinks he’s just cursed with bad luck.” “But we both know there’s no curse. It’s just us, ruining his life behind the scenes.” “Honestly, the fact that he’s endured this for three years without breaking… his devotion is incredible.” Diana was quiet for a long moment before she replied with chilling indifference. “I originally planned to test him for two more years. See if he could survive five years of pressure.” “But Finn is young and naive. He just entered the corporate world, he needs guidance. I need to resume my actual identity as soon as possible.” Marcus probed gently, “And if Jake discovers that you are actually the CEO of the entire company?” “Didn’t I tell you to issue his transfer to the North African branch? Effective in twenty-four hours.” Her tone was casual, yet horribly confident. “The timeline is impossible. He refuses to leave my bedside, so there’s no way he’ll take the transfer. He’ll voluntarily resign to stay in the city. Once he’s out of the company, he’ll never figure out who I really am.” I stood outside the door. My blood ran like ice water through my veins. A moment later, I pulled my phone from my pocket. I opened the email from HR, typed a single sentence, and hit send. [I accept the transfer.] Inside the room, Diana leaned comfortably against her pillows. She stared down at the silver band resting on her ring finger. Marcus followed her gaze and asked carefully, “When you ordered me to buy an exact replica of the ring hidden inside the cake last night, do you think Jake noticed?” Diana didn’t answer. “Finn is so playful. He insisted on digging the ring out of the cake to play with it,” Marcus chose his words with extreme caution. “And then he accidentally dropped it down the toilet.” “But that ring… considering Jake hid it inside his own birthday cake, it must have meant the world to him…” “I know,” she cut him off sharply. She pulled the replica off her finger and tossed it onto the nightstand. “Now is not the time.” She picked up the set of keys resting on the chair. The keychain was a faded, scuffed little basketball. A gift she had given him the day they made things official. It was so worn the original colors were entirely gone. Careless man. He’d probably come rushing back for them soon. “You should leave before he sees you,” she told Marcus. “Understood… Oh, right, Ms. Diana.” Marcus paused at the door. “You feigned this illness for three years to lay low and force your cousin into a false sense of security.” “But he was arrested last month. Your exile is over. Eleanor expects you back at the family estate tomorrow.” “I know.” She worked on her laptop late into the night. When she finally rubbed her eyes and checked the time, she realized the owner of those keys had never returned. Frowning, she snapped a picture of the keychain and texted him. [Jake, I have your keys!] No response. She glanced out at the pitch-black sky, assuming he had passed out from exhaustion again. The next morning, she left the hospital early to attend high-level family meetings at her estate. By the time she returned to Room 606, it was three in the afternoon. She unlocked her phone. The chat history was dead silent. Not even a punctuation mark in reply. He had gone an entire twenty-four hours without checking in. That had never happened before. As she stared at the screen, her phone suddenly began ringing frantically. It was the Director of Operations. His voice was hoarse with panic. “Ms. Diana, it’s a disaster!” “Riots broke out in North Africa. A militant group bombed the branch headquarters.” “The employee who just transferred from New York… he was killed in the blast.” 5 Diana was silent for two excruciating seconds. Her voice came out as cold and rigid as steel. “Have the security division handle it. Issue the payouts. Manage the family’s grief.” “Yes, ma’am…” She hung up the phone before he could finish. “Diana!” Finn practically kicked the door open, strutting inside. He carried a heavy thermos, his face plastered with sheer triumph. “I got the VP spot! I made you some bone broth to celebrate. It’s supposed to be great for recovery.” Diana pressed the power button on her phone, tossing it onto the sheets. Finn set the thermos on the bedside table, laughing brightly. “I swear, everything I tell you comes true. The universe just loves me!” He unscrewed the lid, the smell of mediocre soup filling the room. “Try it. I spent all afternoon making this.” Diana took the bowl, took a small sip, and set it down. “It’s fine.” Finn looked at her, his eyes shining with adoration. “Then I’ll make it for you every single day. How does that sound?” Diana didn’t answer. It sounded awful. It tasted like dishwater compared to the meals Jake cooked for her. Over the years, Jake had completely ruined her palate for anything else. Even the Michelin-starred chefs her family employed couldn’t recreate the warmth in his cooking. “Oh, right,” Finn said, noticing her blank stare. “Didn’t you promise that once I got promoted, you had a massive secret to tell me?” Two sharp knocks interrupted them. Marcus stepped into the room holding a sleek leather folder. “Ms. Diana, the paperwork is finalized.” “Your discharge papers, along with the corporate press release, are ready. The board of directors has been notified of your official return.” Diana offered a faint, dismissive “Mhm.” Finn stood frozen, his eyes wide as saucers. “Diana… what did he just call you? Ms. Diana? Like… the CEO?” Marcus offered a thin, patronizing smile. “Finn, did you honestly believe a regular working-class girl would have a personal executive assistant?” “Ms. Diana is the Chief Executive Officer of this firm. She has merely been… on sabbatical these past few years.” Finn stared at the documents in Marcus’s hands. “So… the promotions, the transfers, me getting hired…” “All orchestrated by the CEO,” Marcus finished for her. Finn turned slowly to look at Diana, the tips of his ears burning bright red. “Why didn’t you tell me?” Diana’s tone remained flat. “I’m telling you now. Starting tomorrow, I am returning to the Manhattan office in my full capacity.” “Keep your head down and do the work. From now on, you’ll have to earn your keep.” Finn bit his lip, dropping his gaze to the floor. His fingers nervously twisted the hem of his designer shirt. After a long, suffocating silence, he asked in a small voice, “What about your boyfriend? Does he know?” Diana didn’t answer the question. She simply picked up the battered basketball keychain resting on the nightstand, her thumb brushing over the scuffed rubber. “He’s a sensible man. He’ll understand.” Finn nodded quietly. Once the room was empty, Diana picked up her phone. She opened her chat with Jake and typed out a message. [Jake, why are you ignoring me?] [The doctors said I’m practically fully recovered. I’m being discharged tomorrow.] She hit send and stared at the screen, waiting for the little typing bubble to appear. Waiting for the flood of joyful, relieved messages he always sent. Nothing. She tossed the phone back onto the table. He was probably just stressing over finding a new job. Trying to hide his unemployment from her so she wouldn’t worry. He had a terrible habit of carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders and smiling through it. Once he saw the text, he would be ecstatic. His one true dream in life was for her to walk again. He wanted them to sit in a bustling diner and eat a hot meal together. He wanted to walk through a grocery store without checking his watch. He wanted to hold her hand walking down the sidewalk like a normal couple.

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My wife had just passed away when the glowing, floating comments started appearing right in front of my eyes. Someone wrote that the female lead faked her death just to test the supporting male character’s loyalty. Another predicted that the supporting guy would get lonely and cheat almost immediately, leaving the female lead free to end up with the main male lead. Some even said they couldn’t wait to see the supporting guy standing outside in the pouring rain, begging the female lead not to leave him, completely unaware that she was inside acting coy with the main guy, begging him to stop kissing her. The comments said this scene would be incredibly satisfying to read. I felt unbelievably wronged. I swore to myself right then and there that I would never betray my feelings for my wife. But on the day of her funeral, her estranged sister showed up. She walked right up to me, held a black umbrella over my head, and whispered in a low, velvet voice, “Noah, my sister is gone. But you still have me.” I stood frozen. Was this another test? 1 I went to a psychic down in the Village. The reader flipped a tarot card and told me, “You are destined to have two wives in this life. The woman standing beside you isn’t the love of your life.” “That is absolute garbage,” I snapped, losing my temper. A shadow fell over me. A slender, elegant hand reached out from behind and snatched the tarot card right off the table. I turned around and met Sloane’s eyes. “Honey, don’t listen to this.” She gave a faint, dismissive smile and carelessly toyed with the card. Her face betrayed no real emotion. I knew she didn’t care. Marrying me was just her settling. She had countless wealthy, gorgeous men throwing themselves at her feet. With her looks and status, leaving me would only mean trading up. But I was the one who had chased her the longest. Since she couldn’t marry the man she truly loved, she married the man who loved her the most. I just didn’t expect her to bring up the psychic’s reading in bed that night. All her usual coldness vanished. She came at me fiercely, completely selfish and almost brutal in her demands. I knew that arrogant, high-and-mighty look of hers too well. She didn’t like me all that much, but she demanded that I worship the ground she walked on. “Sloane,” I breathed, surrendering entirely. “I only love you.” I promised her over and over again. As long as she lived, I would love her. She paused, looking down at me. “And if I die?” I froze. “…I’d still love you.” She caught that split-second of hesitation in my voice. One perfectly sculpted eyebrow arched up. I instinctively tried to pull my hand back, but she pinned my wrists down hard against the mattress. “Noah,” she whispered. “Even if I die, you are only allowed to love me.” Half past midnight. Sloane threw on a black silk nightgown, leaning against the window sill with her long legs crossed as she took a phone call. “The news of your supposed death will hit the press tomorrow.” The voice on the other end of the line was giving her a mission briefing. “You’ll lay low at the remote villa in Sardinia for six months. Once we catch the corporate mole over here, you can come back.” Sloane gave a lazy, indifferent hum of agreement. “Are you really not going to tell your husband it’s a setup?” the voice asked. Sloane keeping me in the dark was partly for the undercover operation, but mostly, it was a gamble. When she was seven, her mother ran off with another man, taking her younger sister and leaving Sloane behind. Because of that, she absolutely despised betrayal. She wanted to bet on whether I would actually stay loyal to a ghost. Only then would she fully accept me. “Did the private investigators find anything?” she asked the person on the phone. “We tailed him for half a month,” the voice replied. “Noah doesn’t have anyone on the side. He goes straight from work to home and back. He’s as straight-laced as they come.” “Honestly, everyone knows he worships you,” the person added, a teasing note in their voice. “Are you seriously worried he’ll find someone else just because he thinks you’re dead?” “Let him find someone else.” She scoffed, completely unbothered. “He’s not the only man who wants to marry me.” Sloane hung up the phone. Her hand slipped into her pocket and brushed against the psychic’s tarot card she had confiscated earlier. She gripped it tightly in her palm, staring at the night sky for a few seconds. Running a frustrated hand through her hair, she glanced over her shoulder at me, fast asleep in bed. She tossed the card into the trash can. The next day was our anniversary. I waited for her at home all day, only to receive the news of her death. I sat there in a daze, barely registering the police officers telling me something about a catastrophic accident during a business trip. I returned to our empty house alone. I saw the black silk nightgown she had worn the night before still draped over the edge of the sofa. I picked it up, intending to throw it in the wash, until the realization hit me that there was no point anymore. A suffocating, agonizing heartbreak spread from the freezing nape of my neck all the way to my fingertips. I held her clothes to my chest and cried for a long, long time. It wasn’t until the day of the funeral that I saw the scrolling text floating in the air: [OMG here we go. The FMC faked her death to test the beta male orbiter!] [He’s gonna get lonely and cheat so fast, leaving the FMC completely free for the real Male Lead!] [This stupid side guy can’t resist temptation. He’s gonna think he struck gold, but when she comes back, he’s gonna regret it so much.] [The MMC is totally her type anyway. They’re gonna fall in love on that island. She acts tough but she won’t be able to resist him.] [The side guy chased her for years, but the MMC gets everything just by standing there!] [I can’t wait to see the side guy begging in the rain for her to take him back, not knowing she’s inside begging the MMC to stop kissing her. It’s gonna be so satisfying!] I stared at the floating words, feeling a mix of sheer absurdity and bitter resentment. So, I was just the discarded side character. No wonder I could never warm Sloane’s heart, no matter how much I bled for her. But what I absolutely could not accept was the accusation that I would cheat! According to these comments, I was going to find my next target right here at the funeral. Have some faith in me! I am a traditional guy with actual morals. There is no way I would mess around when my wife’s grave hasn’t even been filled yet! And the most infuriating part? Looking around this gloomy cemetery, there wasn’t a single woman here who was prettier than Sloane! We desperate orbiters only dedicate our lives to someone because we are heavily biased toward a pretty face. [Just thinking about the side guy waking up next to some ugly chick every morning is hilarious.] [No wonder he’s gonna be so bitter. But whatever, the gorgeous FMC belongs to the MMC now.] [Wait, who is that absolute bombshell walking up to him?] [Holy crap, look at those legs!] I slowly raised my head. Through the mist of the rain and the somber crowd in black, a strikingly bright and beautiful face caught my eye. The crowd parted. Through the hazy drizzle, she walked straight toward me, holding a black umbrella. She stopped right in front of me and called out in a low, soft voice, “Noah.” “My sister is dead. But you still have me.” A few steps behind her hung the black-and-white portrait of her sister, Sloane. 2 Melina. The pop star I had worshipped for ten years. Back in high school, I used to hide under the covers in my dorm room, secretly listening to her debut album to fall asleep. Even in my most desperate teenage fantasies, I didn’t dare picture her face. She was practically a goddess to me. And now, she was standing less than two feet away from me. “That’s Sloane’s sister,” someone whispered nearby. I already knew she was the younger sister who was taken away by their mother—the sister Sloane absolutely despised. Because of that hatred, I hadn’t seen her once during my entire marriage. And I was Melina’s brother-in-law. In a matter of seconds, my brain short-circuited. I had always joked that if my celebrity crush ever started dating someone, I would jump off a bridge. I despised the idea of any man calling himself her husband. But now, I was the taboo husband figure in her life? Dammit. I was panicking. Staring at my idol’s flawless face from this close, my vocal cords completely seized up. But I couldn’t just leave her hanging. I had to say hello. I had to— “Quack.” My tight throat managed to produce a sound exactly like a dying duck. It was humiliating. I wanted the earth to swallow me whole. But unfortunately, I was a physically robust side character. I didn’t faint. Ten minutes later, I found a dark, isolated corner in the venue’s stairwell to hide and hate myself. “Have you seen Noah? Melina’s looking for him.” Two of Sloane’s relatives walked past the stairwell door, their voices echoing. “Hey, did you hear Sloane didn’t leave a single cent to Noah in her will?” “Yeah. A woman’s money is where her heart is. That leech drained his youth on her and walked away with absolutely nothing.” “Don’t be so harsh. Noah is a good kid. Did you see his eyes? He cried them completely red.” Their footsteps faded away. The glowing text floating in front of me was still updating with scenes from the Mediterranean island: [Ahhh the MMC and FMC finally met!] [Why is the MMC staring at her like that?] [The FMC’s dog loves the MMC! Dogs are way better judges of character!] I took a deep breath, grabbed the doorknob, and prepared to go home. The moment I pulled the door open, a strong force pulled me right back into the stairwell. The person let go of my jacket and looked up at me. “Found you.” In the narrow stairwell, the door blew half-open by the wind, letting in just a sliver of gray light. “Are you hiding from me?” Melina’s face was half-shadowed in the dark, her voice ringing crystal clear. “Do you hate me, Noah? Just like she did?” I took a half-step back and shook my head rapidly. “I don’t hate you.” God knew I could barely even breathe looking at her. She was actually taller than her sister. Even though she was half a head shorter than me, her presence was so overwhelmingly magnetic it made my chest tight. “Then do you like me?” she asked. Someone walked past outside, and the draft pushed the heavy fire door open a little wider. I instinctively shrank back into the shadows. She smiled, amused by my reaction, and reached out to hold the door steady, blocking me from view. Once the people outside were gone, the light spilled back in, illuminating her bright, dark eyes. “Do you still remember me?” she asked softly. “Noah, we were in the same class freshman year of high school.” Melina’s name had defined my entire adolescence. She transferred out in sophomore year, got discovered, and debuted as a singer. She became a massive sensation overnight, sweeping up awards left and right. The year I took my SATs and barely scraped into a decent state college, my college roommate lay on his bed on the first day of dorm move-in and mentioned his favorite singer was Melina. Years later, after we graduated, my roommate had long stopped keeping up with pop culture. But I was still listening to her music. Her concert tickets sold out in seconds every single tour. The one time I finally managed to secure a ticket, my corporate boss called me in for a mandatory overtime emergency. I sat at my cubicle that night, crying silently. I realized I wasn’t just sad about missing the show. I was devastated because, in that moment, it became violently clear that she and I lived in completely different universes. I would probably never see her in real life. “I remember,” I said, finally meeting her gaze. “It is pretty crazy. I never expected you to remember me, and I definitely never expected us to become family.” I tried my hardest to keep my voice from shaking. “Who would’ve thought the next time we saw each other would be eating catering at my wife’s funeral?” She listened to me refer to her sister as my wife, looking at my red, swollen eyes. She seemed to finally remember the occasion. “Oh.” She turned slightly, putting a little distance between us. Fine droplets of rain carried by the freezing wind blew through the doorway, hitting my exposed forearms. She had briefly touched my arm just moments ago. “My sister was really cruel.” She didn’t look at me. “How could she treat you like that?” Melina had been in the industry for years. She kept a low profile, had zero scandals, and maintained a flawless reputation. Even at high school reunions, old classmates would talk about her. “Back then, some gang kids from another school cornered me,” a guy once said. “Melina barely knew me, but she quietly called the cops and even stepped in to fight them off.” “She’s a genuinely good person.” I always believed Melina was fundamentally kind. That had to be why she was looking at me now, with that devastatingly beautiful face and an expression of pure, honest sincerity, asking: “What do you want?” “As her family, I’ll compensate you.” I felt so incredibly dirty. In that precise moment, I became painfully aware of my role as the weak-willed, corrupted side character. My brain was screaming: If she sleeps with me, does that count as hooking up with a fan? Will it ruin her career? I shouldn’t do this. Control yourself, Noah! I lowered my head and muttered, “No, it’s fine. I don’t need anything.” But her deep, alluring voice pushed further. “Are you sure you don’t want anything?” “I’m sure. You don’t owe me anything.” “Oh.” The shadows of the trees outside swayed violently, and the wind blew the heavy door wide open. Someone in the hallway was calling my name. I turned around, ready to leave. She watched my back, her voice floating leisurely through the cold air. “Noah.” “Then can I ask for some compensation of my own?” I stopped and turned back to look at her, confused. “Like what?” “Marry me.” She looked me dead in the eye. “Let me take care of you in her place.”

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1 It had been exactly six years since my younger brother and his fiancée passed away. I was standing by the door, putting on my coat, ready to bring fresh flowers to their graves. That was when my mother called out from the hallway, stopping me dead in my tracks. “Tedd, don’t go,” she said, her voice completely flat. “They aren’t dead.” My entire body went rigid. I turned around, staring at her in absolute disbelief. Right at that moment, two silhouettes stepped out of my brother’s old bedroom. It was Finn and Rachel. Finn had a smug, mocking smirk plastered across his face. He nudged the woman beside him. “See? I told you my bro wouldn’t notice a damn thing. Pay up, I won this bet.” He leaned in closer to her, his tone dropping into something dirty and arrogant. “So… who’s going to be on top later? Huh, Rachel?” Rachel glanced at me. Her eyes were entirely empty of the warmth I remembered, replaced by a look of sheer disgust, as if she were staring at the village idiot. “I guess he really is just that stupid,” she scoffed. “We’ve been living right next door all these years, and he never had a clue.” A heavy, sickening realization crashed down on me. Mom had strictly forbidden me from ever going into Finn’s room, claiming she didn’t want me to be overwhelmed by grief. But that was a lie. The room hid a secret passageway connecting directly to the house next door. Rachel was right. I really was an idiot. Just last month, I had spent hours carefully planning how to clean their headstones for the anniversary. “Why would you do this?” I forced the words out, fighting the violent trembling in my hands. My eyes were burning red. The soft, gentle Rachel from my memories was gone. The woman standing before me was made of ice. “Because you never knew your place, Tedd.” What did it even mean to know my place? My mother frowned, looking at me like I was a stain on the rug. “We just wanted you to learn how to behave these past few years. We needed you to stop trying to steal everything that belongs to your brother.” “Tedd, they’re having a baby now. Just let it go. You’ll find someone else.” I wouldn’t. I bit my lip so hard I tasted copper. My chest physically ached, a hollow, crushing pain. “I have never stolen anything from Finn,” I choked out. When we were kids, Mom and Dad only ever remembered the things Finn liked. If I wanted even a sliver of their attention, I had to force myself to like the exact same toys, the same food. I never realized that simply saying “I want one too” was viewed as stealing. By the time we were teenagers, I was a full four inches taller than my brother. But Mom still bought all my clothes in Finn’s size. No matter how many times I reminded her, it never stuck. My jeans always rode up past my ankles. I was bullied relentlessly at school for years because of it. I should have accepted the truth a long time ago. Tedd, they just don’t love you. Maybe the sheer devastation on my face was too much, because Rachel’s icy facade cracked for a fraction of a second. She pulled a tissue from her purse and held it out. “Tedd, just move on.” I didn’t take it. Finn immediately stepped up, putting on a sickeningly fake display of guilt. “Bro, I’m so sorry. We never actually signed the marriage license anyway. If you want, I can give her back to you.” Smack. My mother’s hand connected with my cheek. My skin stung, hot and throbbing. I looked at her, completely stunned. Her hand was trembling slightly, but her voice was pure venom. “What the hell is your problem, Tedd! Rachel is pregnant! Are you trying to make this kid a walking scandal just like you?” The air left my lungs. I was conceived before my parents got married. In my mother’s eyes, I was the living proof of her shame. In my father’s eyes, I was just the trap that forced him to settle down. I knew all of this. It was why I maintained a perfect GPA, why I kept my head down, why I never caused trouble. I foolishly believed that if I were just perfect enough, they might finally love me. Standing in that hallway, the truth finally set in. Nothing I did would ever matter. Because their only wish was for me to not exist at all. And they were about to get exactly what they wanted. Rachel took a step toward me, a flash of pity in her eyes. “Tedd, we can still be friends. Finn and I will make sure you’re taken care of.” I stumbled backward, avoiding her hand like it was poison. “Don’t touch me.” My voice was a dry, broken rasp. Six years. For six entire years, the guilt had eaten me alive every single day. I visited the cemetery in the freezing rain, apologizing to empty dirt, consumed by the thought that if I hadn’t planned that surprise party for them, they wouldn’t have died in that crash. It was all a staged production. Even my own parents had played their parts perfectly, just to make sure Finn got his happily ever after. I looked at my mother, the pieces finally clicking together. “You kept me out of his room so I wouldn’t find the tunnel to the house next door. That was it, wasn’t it?” Her face paled, her eyes darting away, but she stubbornly lifted her chin. “So what if it is? We did it for your own good. We wanted you to cut your ties and just live your life.” “Live my life?” A hollow laugh scraped its way out of my throat. “You watched me go to that cemetery like an absolute clown every year. You watched me drown in guilt, while they were playing house right next door. And you call that doing it for my own good?” “Watch your mouth, Tedd!” My father finally emerged from his study, his brow furrowed in deep annoyance. “They were deeply in love. They faked their deaths so you wouldn’t make a scene. They’ve been hiding and suffering for years. What more do you want from them?” Deeply in love. Suffering. Those words felt like a knife twisting in my gut. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was an automated text from the cemetery management, confirming my final reservation. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the charred ring I had recovered from the crash site six years ago, and placed it quietly on the table. “I won’t cause any more trouble.” The very next morning, a package arrived for me from the cemetery center. It was a biometric monitoring wristband. The paperwork stated that within two hours of my heart stopping, the band would automatically ping my location, and a team would be dispatched to collect my body. It was perfect. My mind drifted back to that day six years ago. It was supposed to be my engagement party with Rachel. She told me to wait at the venue, promising a huge surprise. I waited, nervous and excited, until the sun went down. Instead of a surprise, I got a call from an unknown number. A car had gone off a cliff. Completely incinerated. The only thing they found in the wreckage was a ring engraved with my initials. I collapsed on the floor of the banquet hall. My entire universe shattered. My mother had screamed and cried, pointing a trembling finger at my chest. “This is your fault! If you hadn’t insisted on that stupid surprise party, they would still be alive!” The guests whispered and stared. The rain that night soaked into my bones, and I had been freezing ever since. But now they were telling me that every tear, every scream, was just a theatrical performance meant for an audience of one. No wonder the house always smelled like Finn’s favorite spicy food, even after he “died.” No wonder my mother never once visited his grave. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. I had emptied my entire savings account to pay the cemetery center. I just had to survive in this house long enough to finish my final painting, and then I would be gone. The thought of death didn’t scare me at all. Honestly, it felt like a massive relief. The next morning, I grabbed my coat to head out. Finn immediately blocked my path. “Bro, Rachel and I really want some of your homemade oatmeal. You always took such good care of everyone.” He wrapped an arm around Rachel’s waist, his eyes glinting with pure provocation. He was a completely different person from yesterday. Rachel leaned into his chest, looking at me expectantly. “Finn really wants it, Tedd. Just go make it. I’m pregnant, standing over a stove is too hard on me.” Mom nodded in agreement, acting like this was the most natural request in the world. “Go on. Make sure it’s soft, and don’t add sugar. You know Finn hates sweet things. It’s just a bowl of oatmeal, it won’t kill you.” I stood perfectly still. I didn’t move an inch. Finn put on a pitiful face, looking awkwardly at the floor. “Are you still mad at me, bro? I know it was messed up to take Rachel, but I really love her… If you don’t want to cook, it’s fine. I just won’t eat. Don’t force yourself.” He let out a heavy sigh, acting like he was the victim of some great injustice. Rachel’s face darkened instantly. She glared at me. “It’s literally just a bowl of food, Tedd. Do you really need to throw a tantrum over it? He’s your younger brother, can’t you just let him have this?” Dad slammed his newspaper onto the table. “If your mother tells you to cook, you cook! Stop dragging your feet! We are a family, stop being so petty!” A family. The word sounded like nails on a chalkboard. I slowly lifted my gaze, looking at the four faces in front of me. They were people I had known my whole life, yet they looked like complete strangers. It was like watching a movie I wasn’t cast in. I was just an extra on the set. “Fine. I’ll make it.” I turned and walked into the kitchen. This bowl of oatmeal would be my final payment for the cost of raising me. Ten minutes later, Finn was eating at the table when he suddenly gagged, sprinting to the bathroom and throwing up violently. I froze by the counter. The whole family rushed to his side. He leaned against the sink, looking weak and pale. “It’s fine. It has nothing to do with Tedd’s cooking. My stomach has just been acting up lately.” But the harder he tried to defend me, the more they blamed me. Rachel looked at me, her eyes brimming with intense disappointment. “You never used to be like this, Tedd.” “How did you become so sick and twisted? You’re actually trying to poison your own flesh and blood.” I looked down at the fresh burn blister on my hand from the stove. My chest hurt infinitely worse. My father was shaking with rage. “Lock him up! Throw him in the storage room! Let him rot in there until he learns his lesson. I can’t believe I raised such a monster!” Mom didn’t even try to stop him. She just looked away and sighed. “Just think about what you’ve done. Stop making everything so difficult.” Rachel hesitated for a brief second, but then she helped my dad shove me into the cramped, windowless storage room. The heavy door slammed shut. The deadbolt clicked. No one wanted to hear a single word I had to say. The room was pitch black, suffocating, and reeked of dust. A full day and night passed. No water. No food. The stress and dehydration triggered my chronic heart condition. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my chest. I collapsed onto the concrete floor, curling into a tight ball as cold sweat soaked through my shirt. My vision blurred into static. Using every last ounce of willpower I possessed, I dragged myself to the door and started hitting the wood. Weakly. Slowly. “Open the door… please… it hurts…” “Rachel… Mom… I need my pills…” My voice was a pathetic whisper, but I kept slapping the wood until my knuckles swelled and split open, smearing blood on the doorframe. I couldn’t die yet. My painting hadn’t been delivered to the gallery. My life was an ugly, miserable mess, but I needed my art to hang in a clean, beautiful frame. I lost track of time before the lock finally clicked. Rachel stood in the doorway, her face tight. When she saw me curled up in a pool of my own sweat, panic flashed in her eyes. She dropped to her knees and touched my forehead, violently pulling her hand back. “You’re burning up! Why didn’t you say something?” “Pills… under my pillow…” I managed to breathe out. She jumped up, sprinting to my bedroom. She came back a minute later with the blister pack and a glass of warm water. She carefully pulled me up by the shoulders, her movements incredibly soft, like she was afraid of breaking me. “Take it. It’ll stop the pain.” I had barely swallowed the pill when Finn strolled into the room. He looked down at me, shaking his head with a sad, gentle expression. “Bro, why do you have to lie to us?” “I just checked your room. Those aren’t heart pills. They’re just daily vitamins.” “You’re faking an illness just to get attention… That’s so messed up.” Those words acted like a bucket of ice water, instantly killing whatever sympathy Rachel had felt. She shoved me away, letting my shoulder slam against the wall. “You are completely out of your mind, Tedd. Is there any low you won’t sink to?” My mother’s expression turned to pure disgust. “We just wanted you to reflect on your actions, and you pull a stunt like this. If I knew you’d turn out this way, I would have visited a clinic before you were born!” Dad shook his head in disgust. “Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.” I shook my head frantically, tears finally spilling over my lashes. My throat was raw. “I’m not… I swear I’m not faking it…” “Shut up!” Rachel yelled, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t want to hear another word of your bullshit.” “Tedd, you are the biggest disappointment of my life.” After that, none of them spoke a single word to me. A few days later, I finally shipped my canvas to the gallery. As soon as I got home, my phone buzzed. It was the cemetery center. [Mr. Wright, your biometric scanner indicates extremely unstable vitals over the past 48 hours. Please take care of yourself.] I typed back a quick ‘Okay’. It was ironic. The only people in this world checking in on me were the ones waiting to bag my corpse. Later that afternoon, I was out on the balcony taking down the laundry. Finn sauntered out, a wicked, jagged grin spreading across his face. “You have absolutely zero shame, don’t you, bro? Everyone in this house despises you, and you still refuse to pack your bags?” I ignored him, turning to walk back inside. But his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist in a vice grip. He leaned in, whispering right into my ear. “You want to know a secret? Rachel never got over you. Her hidden photo gallery on her phone? It’s entirely filled with pictures of you two.” I blinked, genuinely surprised. Before I could process it, his voice dropped lower. “I really, really hate you, Tedd. Do us all a favor and go to hell.” Without warning, Finn violently shoved me toward the railing. But he miscalculated his footing on the slick tiles. We both went down hard. My body tipped entirely off balance, flipping over the waist-high concrete wall. The freezing wind whipped across my face. Nothing but empty air below me. I managed to hook one arm around the metal railing, my legs dangling over a four-story drop. Finn was on his back on the balcony floor, perfectly safe, but he immediately started screaming in terror. “Help! He’s trying to throw me off!” The sliding glass doors flew open. All three of them burst out onto the balcony like a swarm. They ran straight to Finn. Not a single one of them even glanced at the edge where I was slipping away. They crowded around my brother, their voices trembling with panic. “Finn! Oh my god, are you hurt?” Rachel pulled him into a tight hug, pressing his face into her chest, looking absolutely terrified. Mom was practically in tears, checking his arms for scratches. Dad stood up, pointing a furious finger at my face. “You absolute piece of trash! What is it going to take for you to leave him alone!” Half my body was suspended over the abyss. My shoulder joint was popping. My fingers were going numb. I used the very last bit of air in my lungs and screamed. “Rachel!” She finally turned her head and looked at me. She saw me hanging there. She hesitated, lifting a hand as if to reach for me. But my mother slapped her arm down. “Leave him! He actually tried to murder his own brother. Let him hang there and learn his lesson!” Rachel bit her lip, lowered her hand, and looked away. Even though I knew exactly how this was going to play out, my eyes still burned. My chest felt like it was caving in. I looked at the four of them, huddled tightly together, a perfect, united family defending themselves against the villain. A sudden, overwhelming sense of peace washed over me. “Will you finally believe me if I die?” I asked the question quietly to the wind. Then, I opened my fingers.

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The day I found out I was pregnant, I was scrolling through my social media feed when I saw a post from my best friend. It was a picture of a pregnancy test, two bold pink lines on stark white, set against the backdrop of a hotel bedsheet. Her caption read: “Not only can he get the ‘job’ done, but he’s a sharpshooter too. What a man!” Then, she added a comment on her own post: “Mr. A’s skills are no joke, talk about efficiency! He knocked me up on the same day as his wife!” The trust fund kids in our circle were always making crude jokes; we all had a wild sense of humor. I figured she was just riffing on my own pregnancy, using my husband, Alex, as the butt of the joke to be funny. I even tossed her a ‘like.’ It wasn’t until the day my water broke that the joke curdled in my stomach. I was rushed to the hospital, only to find out that Jennifer had also been admitted to the maternity ward. We gave birth on the very same day. The moment I saw them, the two newborns, lying side-by-side in the nursery, my world froze. A chill shot up from the soles of my feet to the crown of my head. They were identical. The other baby’s face was a perfect, mirrored image of my son’s. But what truly shattered my heart was the patient chart hanging on the bassinet. In the space for the father’s signature, I saw the familiar, flamboyant script of my husband’s name: Alex. … I stood in that hallway for what felt like an eternity. My hand braced against the wall, my knuckles white. Blood from my IV line had seeped out, staining a small patch of my hospital gown crimson. Alex. I had looked at that signature for eight years. I could recognize it with my eyes closed. The same hand that had signed my medical chart had signed Jennifer’s. My room was 3012. Hers was 3015. Three doors down. The distance between a wife and a mistress. I dragged my body, still bleeding from childbirth, back to my room. Each step was a dizzying, weightless stumble. The second I collapsed onto the bed, my phone screen lit up. Another post from Jennifer. It was a selfie of her in her hospital bed, lipstick freshly applied, a smug little smile playing on her lips. The caption: “Delivered a healthy 7lb 2oz baby boy! VIP delivery suite + 24/7 private nurse + a flood of flowers and cash~ My benefactor knows how to spoil a girl~ Bet you’re all jealous~” The comment section was already on fire. Jessica replied: [Give it a rest, Jennifer. Now you’re making up a rich benefactor for your baby? Who’s the dad, for real?] Jennifer shot back instantly: [Wouldn’t you like to know~ Go on, guess~ Let’s just say he’s got a hundred times more money than your husband~] Lauren chimed in: [Jennifer, seriously, nine out of ten things that come out of your mouth are BS.] Jennifer: [Yep, yep, you’re all right. I made it all up~ Believe whatever you want~] I used to be one of them, laughing in the comments. “You’re full of it again.” “If you ever landed a sugar daddy, Jennifer, I’d be the last person to believe it.” Because that was Jennifer. Ever since I’d met her in college, she’d been a pathological liar. She’d eat cheap takeout and claim a private chef had come to her house. She’d buy fifty-cent earrings from some knock-off website and swear they were designer custom-made. If a new guy added her on an app, she’d brag that some tech billionaire was trying to get with her. Everyone knew Jennifer was a compulsive braggart. No one ever took her seriously. Including me. So when she made that post about getting knocked up, I just assumed she was clout-chasing, spinning another one of her tall tales. I laughed and gave it a like. The door creaked open. Alex walked in carrying a bowl of nourishing soup, his apron splattered with broth. He set the bowl down and leaned over to kiss my forehead. “You’re awake?” “The doctor said you lost a little too much blood. You need to rest, stay in bed. I’ve been simmering this for you for two hours. Drink it while it’s hot.” He pulled a chair to the bedside, his eyes red-rimmed as he took my hand. “I just went to see our son. Six pounds, eight ounces. The nurse said he has your eyes.” I just stared at him. For eight years, this was the face I woke up to. The man who’d have dinner ready when I got home from work, the one who always backed down first after an argument. I had always thought I was the luckiest woman in the world. Until six hours ago, when I’d pushed a child into this world with every ounce of my strength, only to discover another baby, a carbon copy of my son, in a delivery room just down the hall. “Alex, where were you just now?” His hand, holding the soup spoon, paused for a fraction of a second. “I went down to the pharmacy to pick up your postpartum medication. And I stopped by the nursery to see the baby on my way back.” On the way back. My lips pressed into a thin, hard line. He sat by my bed for a long time that night. Every hour, he would get up to help me turn over, check my temperature, and change the sanitary pad. At 3:17 AM, he thought I was asleep. His footsteps were light, but I counted them. Enough to take him three doors to the left. A door opened. And then it closed. 2 The next morning, Alex left to handle my discharge paperwork. I waited until his footsteps faded down the hall before I slipped out of bed. His jacket was draped over the back of a chair. In the inside pocket was a black phone. His personal phone was white. I always knew he had two. He told me the other one was for work emergencies, for important clients he couldn’t afford to miss. I believed him for eight years. My fingers trembled as I typed in the passcode. He used my birthday for everything. 0714. This phone was no different. The screen unlocked, and his messaging app popped up. The pinned chat at the top had a pink dinosaur as its profile picture. The contact name: My Jennifer. The last message was from 3:21 AM. [What took you so long? The baby just woke up, and I can’t handle him by myself.] His reply: [Be good, babe. I couldn’t get away from Annie. I’ll come earlier next time.] She sent back a cute, pouting emoji. Then: [So when are you going to tell her? You promised me.] He never replied to that one. I scrolled up. A month ago: Jennifer: [You sent me another bouquet of baby’s breath today. What if your wife saw it~] Alex: [I told her they were for a client.] Jennifer: [Hahaha you’re such a good liar.] Three months ago: Jennifer: [Hubby, I’m craving hot pot. Come pick me up after work.] Alex: [I’ll tell Annie I’m working late. I’ll be there at seven.] Six months ago: Alex: [Jennifer, I can’t leave Annie. I owe her too much. But the thought of you being my secret forever is killing me.] Jennifer: [Then divorce her.] Alex: [I can’t.] Jennifer: [Then don’t say crap like that. It’s pathetic. I don’t care about a title anyway. As long as I have you.] Below that was a voice message. My finger hovered over the play button before I finally pressed it. Alex’s voice, so tender it felt like a knife twisting in my chest, filled the silence. “Jennifer, Annie’s out of town on business today. I’m coming over. Wait for me, we can cook dinner together.” I set the phone down, my hands shaking so violently it took a full minute for them to still. Then, I opened Jennifer’s social media feed. I scrolled back, past yesterday’s post about her “benefactor.” Post by post. Two years ago: “Mr. A bought me a necklace~ Guess how much? At least ten grand~ Don’t believe me? Don’t care~” My comment was still there, right underneath: [You must have dreamt up that necklace, babe. Time to wake up.] A year and a half ago: “Mr. A said he’s buying me a condo so I can move out of my crappy rental~ Just putting this brag out into the universe~” Lauren’s comment: [Can’t you come up with something new? Didn’t you say ‘Mr. A’ was taking you to the Maldives last month? What happened with that?] Jennifer’s reply: [He had to leave early so his wife wouldn’t find out~ Hahahaha~] I remember seeing that and thinking it was hilarious. Classic Jennifer. The Queen of BS. Only a fool would believe her. A year ago, Valentine’s Day: “Thanks for the $7,700 Venmo, Mr. A~ Pretty sure the wifey didn’t get this kind of treatment~ Tsk tsk tsk~” I had replied with a single eye-roll emoji. That day, Alex had sent me $5,200. And I thought I was the special one. I kept scrolling. The designer bags, the expensive shoes, the photos from fancy restaurants—I had laughed at every single one. Because it was Jennifer. And you couldn’t believe a word Jennifer said. But now, holding Alex’s second phone, I looked at the transaction history. Twelve thousand dollars for that necklace. An eighty-thousand-dollar down payment on a condo, registered in Jennifer’s name. And a Valentine’s Day transfer for exactly seven thousand, seven hundred dollars, matching her post to the cent. She had never been bragging at all. Every post was her telling the truth, right out in the open. And I was one of the few fools who believed it was all a joke. I placed the phone back in his jacket pocket. Then I lay back down on the bed and closed my eyes. Tears soaked silently into the pillow. 3 A week later, I was discharged. Alex came to pick me up, an infant car seat already installed in the back. I held our son as I got in. He watched me in the rearview mirror, his smile gentle. “I’ll make you some ribs when we get home. You need to build your strength back up.” I didn’t say a word. When we got home, the living room was filled with balloons and bouquets of fresh flowers. Alex’s parents were standing at the door, beaming. “Oh, our little grandson is home! Annie, you’ve worked so hard, thank you, thank you.” His mother took the baby from me, cooing over him. His father clapped Alex on the shoulder. “You’re a father now. Take good care of your wife and son from now on.” It was a picture of perfect domestic bliss. I sat on the sofa, watching them pass the baby around, waiting until all their attention was focused on him. Then, I took the black phone out of my bag and placed it on the coffee table. I cleared the remote. I moved the water glass. I pushed aside the fruit bowl. Until only the phone remained, stark and alone in the center of the table. The room fell silent. The moment Alex saw the phone, his hand, holding a platter of ribs, froze in mid-air. “Annie—” “Your chat history with Jennifer goes back three years.” My voice was flat, devoid of emotion. “You call her ‘babe,’ she calls you ‘honey.’ You said you owe me too much to divorce me, but you couldn’t stand the thought of her being your secret lover.” “Your son was in room 3015 for four days. You went to see him at three in the morning, every single night, and then came back to me and pretended nothing had happened.” The platter slipped from his grasp, crashing to the floor. Ribs and sauce scattered across the polished wood. His mother clapped a hand over her mouth. His father’s expression darkened. Alex scrambled forward, trying to grab my hand. “Annie, I can explain. Jennifer, she—” “Explain what? Explain the twelve-thousand-dollar necklace? Or the down payment on her condo? Or maybe you can explain why her Valentine’s gift was two and a half thousand dollars more than mine?” His body went limp, and he crumpled to his knees on the floor. “Annie, my feelings for you are real, I never lied about that—” “And the baby in room 3015, the one who looks exactly like your son, that’s real too.” His mother panicked, shoving the baby into his father’s arms and rushing over to me. “Annie, honey, calm down. Let’s just talk this through—” “Mom, your son cheated on me with my best friend and had a child with her. Do you really think this is something we can ‘talk through’?” Her lips trembled. She spun around and glared at Alex. “You—how could you do this! How could you do this to Annie!” She raised her hand and slapped him hard across the face. But her next words made my heart sink into a pit of ice. “So… what about Jennifer’s baby? That’s our family’s blood too, isn’t it?” I looked down and let out a small, bitter laugh. I knew she didn’t mean it maliciously. But those words hurt more than Alex’s affair. The doorbell rang. I went to open it. Jennifer was standing on the doorstep, wearing a floral sundress and holding a basket of imported fruit. She saw me and froze, then forced a smile. “Annie! I came to see you and the baby—” “Jennifer.” Her smile faltered. “Everything you posted… it was all real, wasn’t it?” “You were never bragging.” “You just knew nobody would believe the truth.” The fruit basket slipped from her hand, thudding softly against the doorframe. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. I turned and walked back into the living room. “Alex, I want a divorce.”

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We were together for six years when Victoria betrayed me without hesitation. At first, I was ready to rage, but then strange “reader comments” flooded my mind. Voices claimed she’d been injected with a neurotoxin and warned that if I confronted her, I’d die homeless on the streets. They told me to stay silent for our daughter’s sake—or I’d lose them both forever. Fearing those prophecies, I buried my anger and stayed quiet. From then on, I watched Victoria and Ben together in our own home. I even cleaned their sheets like a servant. Then one day, I overheard Victoria and her friend laughing. Her friend said the mind-control drug worked perfectly—it made me believe I was in a novel, turning me into an obedient dog. Victoria blew out smoke, smirking. She said that because I’d embarrassed Ben at his party a year ago, she’d strip me of all dignity and make me feel a hundred times the humiliation. When her friend asked what if I snapped, Victoria just flicked her ash. “He’s too well-trained to leave now.” Their footsteps faded. Hiding in the shadows, my heart felt dead. They didn’t know this really was a novel’s world. I’d already completed 997 of Victoria’s demands. Just three more, and I could escape this nightmare for good. 1 In a daze, a sharp stone smashed hard into my forehead. Blood instantly gushed out. I hissed in pain and immediately covered the wound. Two centimeters lower, and that rock would have popped my eyeball right out of its socket. I looked toward where the stone came from. That tiny figure used to hug my neck every night and sweetly call me Daddy. But now, she tilted her chin up, copying Victoria’s exact posture, her eyes filled with chilling apathy. “Is your brain busted or are you just deaf? Uncle Ben is waiting for you to draw his bath. Hurry up!” Once upon a time, her eyes were full of pure adoration. She used to follow me around, saying I was her favorite person in the whole wide world. She was terrified of dogs, but whenever a stray barked at me, she would instantly throw her arms wide open and stand in front of me. “Don’t be scared, Daddy! I’ll protect you!” On the day Victoria cheated and shamelessly brought Ben into our marital home… Laura acted like an angry little beast, grabbing everything she could get her hands on and throwing it at Ben. “Get out! This is my Daddy’s house!” But as the drug and the system forced me into total submission, I became a bowing, scraping shell of a man. The way she looked at me shifted from confusion to blatant, unfiltered disgust. She despised me for being a spineless loser who would not even squeak when stepped on. So she banned me from attending her parent-teacher conferences, claiming I embarrassed her. Instead, she held Ben’s hand and showed him off to her classmates, saying he was elegant and much more suited to be her real Dad. A sharp, stinging pain radiated from my forehead. Warm blood mixed with something unexplainable slid down the corner of my eye, feeling exactly like a tear. I looked at her blankly. “We have maids for that. It is not my job.” Laura frowned deeply. “But Uncle Ben asked for you specifically, so you have to do it!” She raised her slingshot, pulling the rubber band back and aiming right at me. I obeyed Victoria’s orders because the system forced me to. That did not mean I had to take orders from a spoiled brat. I stood my ground. “Go get a maid.” I turned around, intending to go clean the blood off my face. But I never expected Laura to actually let go of that rubber band. The second stone sliced through the air and hit the back of my knee with pinpoint accuracy. Blinding pain shot up my leg. My knees buckled, and I crashed heavily onto the hard marble floor. I landed horribly. A sickening crack echoed through the hallway. I knew right then my wrist was broken. Laura clearly froze for a second. The slingshot slipped from her hand. She took a step forward, seemingly wanting to help me up. But a slender hand pressed firmly onto her shoulder. “Great job, Laura. That is exactly how you deal with a disobedient dog. You have to be ruthless.” Ben had walked downstairs at some point. He stood there, looking down at me, enjoying the pathetic sight of me sweating in agony. Hearing his praise, Laura instantly swallowed whatever pity she had. She looked up at Ben, her eyes practically begging for a treat. Just then, Victoria walked through the front door and took in the scene. Her face darkened instantly. The deep, bleeding hole on my forehead was obviously the work of a slingshot. Her eyes flashed red. She marched over and grabbed Laura’s wrist. “Who taught you to raise your hand against an elder? You are completely out of control. Where are your manners!” Laura flinched. Ben reacted with lightning speed, his eyes welling up with tears. “Victoria, don’t blame Laura. Nolan started it. He was running his mouth, cursing me to die a horrible death, saying awful things about our future baby… Laura just got so mad she couldn’t help it.” “Ask her if you don’t believe me.” A hint of panic flashed through Laura’s eyes. Treating Ben as her lifesaver, she nodded frantically. “Yeah.” She cast a guilty glance at me before raising her voice. “He cursed Uncle Ben first, and he cursed the new baby… That is why I shot him.” The next second, a hand grabbed my hair, jerking my head back violently. 2 Victoria’s eyes were as cold as ice. “Is that true, Nolan?” I glanced at Laura, who was hiding behind her mother. The girl kept her head down, staring intensely at her own toes, too scared to meet my gaze. I forced a smile. “What do you think?” Victoria let go of me abruptly, shoving me hard against the floor. “A leopard never changes its spots. You played nice for barely half a month, and now your vicious nature is showing again. I shouldn’t have gone easy on you!” “Now, crawl over to Ben. Bow your head and beg for his forgiveness! If anything happens to Ben because of your disgusting curses, I will make you pay!” The broken bone in my wrist pulsed with agonizing pain. I stared blankly at the floor, asking softly, “Is this your demand?” We had known each other for ten years, loved each other for six. I had never said no to a single thing she asked of me. In the past sixteen years, I had agreed to and fulfilled nine hundred and ninety-seven of her demands. Including today, that made nine hundred and ninety-eight. Victoria did not hesitate for a second. “Yes. That is my demand.” Before she could even rush me, I bent my knees. With every inch I crawled forward, the broken bone ground against my flesh, sending sharp, knife-like pain shooting through my nerves. To make things worse, I had to press my upper body close to the ground to show my absolute submission. My broken hand twisted into a horrifying angle. After just a few steps, I was drenched in cold sweat, my breathing shaky and shallow. But Ben, sitting comfortably on the sofa, spoke up with a victimized tone. “Victoria, I heard an apology like this has to be perfectly executed. If the posture is wrong, it means he isn’t sincere, and God will punish me for it. Nolan is shaking so much. Is he doing it on purpose to curse my lifespan?” Victoria’s face turned pitch black. “Get over here and hold him down! Don’t let him shake!” Several burly male servants rushed over. They were brutally rough, stepping directly onto my back, practically grinding my face into the floorboards. My broken hand took the brunt of it. Heavy leather shoes stepped right onto my wrist, the bones making a stomach-turning crunch. In the end, I didn’t even know how I survived that torturous punishment. All I remember is being swallowed by total darkness the moment it was over. When I opened my eyes again, the harsh smell of disinfectant filled my nose. Victoria was sitting by my hospital bed, tightly gripping my hand. Seeing my eyelids flutter, she pulled her hand back like she had been burned. “I tell you to crawl and you actually crawl. Is my word really that absolute to you?” “You didn’t even make a sound when your bone broke. If the doctor hadn’t noticed the severe dislocation, this hand would have been crippled for life!” There seemed to be a fleeting trace of emotion in her tone, but I didn’t have the energy to care. I only focused on one thing. “Did the punishment count as finished?” Emotions swirled intensely in Victoria’s eyes. “Yes. It counts.” I let out a long breath of stale air. “Good. Only two left.” Victoria frowned, clearly missing the meaning of my words. She took a deep breath and changed the subject. “I watched the security footage from the garden.” “Laura was the one who shot you first.” Immediately, she started making excuses for Ben. “Don’t hold it against Ben. He only lied to protect Laura from getting punished.” “At the end of the day, the problem is you. You raised Laura, and now she turns around and throws rocks at you. You are a complete failure of a father. Do you admit it?” Her words cut like knives. To wash Ben clean, she had zero problems dumping all the blame on me. But was she really that blind? Everything Laura did now was a carbon copy of her. Copying her cold shoulders, copying her creative ways to humiliate me, copying the way she treated me like a disposable stray dog. I closed my eyes, swallowing every bit of emotion. “I admit it.” That answer finally satisfied her. In a rare moment of kindness, just like before our relationship shattered, she tucked me in and told me to get some rest. When her hand reached out to brush my cheek, I turned my head away, dodging her touch. Victoria’s face instantly frosted over. She turned on her heel and slammed the door behind her. 3 By the afternoon, Ben strolled right into my hospital room like he owned the place. He wore that sickeningly smug smile on his face. “Victoria is so silly. You’re the one lying in the hospital bed, but she insisted that being near your dirty blood brought me bad luck. She specifically gave me an antique pendant to cleanse my aura.” He proudly pulled out the tarnished silver cross necklace hanging around his neck. Just one glance, and all the blood rushed to my head. My fingertips trembled. That was the amulet my late mother prayed for on the cold stone floor of our hometown church. It was the only keepsake I brought over from my original world. For sixteen straight years, I protected it like my own life. I barely even touched it, keeping it carefully locked in the bottom drawer of my nightstand. Even when Laura used to cry and beg to play with it, I never gave in. Victoria actually dug through my things while I was unconscious and casually gave it to Ben to cleanse his aura? “Give it back!” Blinding rage made my chest heave with a metallic taste. Forgetting my broken wrist, I lunged at him like a madman. But before I even grazed the edge of the necklace, a heavy kick sent me flying backward. “Ben, are you okay?!” “Uncle Ben!” Victoria and Laura had appeared at the door out of nowhere. The mother and daughter swarmed Ben, protecting him like he was made of glass. My back slammed hard against the wall. My vision went black, and it felt like my organs had been rearranged. Ben buried his face in Victoria’s shoulder, whining with fake tears. “Victoria, Laura, Nolan is acting like a psycho! I came to check on him, and he just lunged at me like a rabid dog, trying to strangle me! He even accused me of stealing his necklace!” Victoria’s eyes turned sharp. She stood like an iceberg in front of Ben. “It is just a piece of junk jewelry. Is it worth throwing a psycho fit over? You never even wear it. What is the big deal if Ben borrows it to ward off bad energy?” I screamed, my voice tearing. “That is mine! That is my mother’s relic!” “If you want to ward off his bad energy, go pay a bishop at a cathedral to bless him! Why did you touch my things!” Hearing the word “relic,” Victoria frowned slightly, seeming to waver. But Ben gripped the silver cross tightly, refusing to budge. “Victoria, I really like this one. It feels perfectly in tune with my soul.” Victoria instantly shifted her stance. “Since Ben likes it, just give it to him. You always used to listen to me. Be a good boy, don’t throw a tantrum over something so trivial.” She spoke in that dismissive tone she would use on a pet, entirely certain I would cave in. I gritted my teeth, shaking my head stubbornly. “He can take anything else from that house. But absolutely not this cross.” Laura angrily ran over, her small fists raining down on me. “You bad man! You’re just jealous of Uncle Ben. You want to make him sad on purpose, don’t you!” She hated me so much now. Her punches weren’t strong, but every hit on my chest hurt worse than the stone from yesterday. Victoria pulled Laura back, stared right into my eyes, and delivered the final verdict. “Nolan, this is my demand.” I froze instantly. Only my pupils trembled violently. Whenever Victoria said those words, my physical autonomy locked down completely. I literally could not say the word no. Listening to the sizzling static of the system in my brain. Hot tears finally spilled over. “Okay.” “As long as it’s your demand, I agree.” Seeing my total emotional collapse, Victoria unexpectedly froze. “Nolan…” Her throat bobbed. A highly complex flash of regret passed through her eyes. “Don’t be like this. When you get discharged, I’ll hire the best silversmith to make you an exact replica.” I didn’t waste another word on her. No matter how expensive the replica was, it wouldn’t have my mother’s warmth. For the first few days after leaving the hospital, I locked myself in the dark guest room to recover. I blocked out all the noise from the outside world. Until one morning, Victoria kicked my door open. Veins popped on her forehead as she lunged at me like an enraged lioness, choking me tightly. “Nolan, how can you be so venomous! You actually cursed that cross!” 4 Cursed? I gasped for air, struggling to speak. “What… what the hell are you talking about?” She let go, throwing me hard against the floor. “Save the innocent act! I hired a top psychic, and she said you used that necklace to put a vicious hex on Ben!” “No wonder Ben has been running a high fever and having nightmares every single night. You’re the one pulling the strings. I never knew you were this sinister!” My back hit the hardwood floor with a painful thud. Pale and breathless, I shook my head frantically. “That is impossible! My mother prayed for that sacred item in a church. How could it carry anything dark!” “Besides, you guys forced it off me. I haven’t even touched it!” “Exactly!” Victoria’s eyes looked like they could burn me alive. “That is why you built up so much resentment and silently cursed whoever wore it. You hated Ben for taking your necklace. But if you’re so mad, come at me! Torturing an innocent man is just pathetic!” She gave me one last look of profound disappointment and sorrow before waving her hand at the bodyguards waiting outside. A few bulky men stormed in, roughly stripping off my pajamas and forcing me into a ridiculous, mothball-scented clown suit. Victoria stood at the door, her voice devoid of any warmth. “Tonight is Ben’s birthday gala. He said that if you wear this suit and play the clown to entertain everyone, he will be merciful and let the cursing incident slide.” Looking at my reflection, smeared with exaggerated face paint and a stupid red nose. I finally connected all the dots. Victoria went through all this trouble just to get back at me for humiliating Ben at his birthday party a year ago. I made her precious lover lose face, so she was going to make me pay it back a thousand times over. I looked in the mirror, laughing until tears streamed down my face. “Is this your demand too?” Victoria paused slightly before answering coldly, “Yes.” I wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes. “Alright.” Victoria, this is the very last time. Dragging my heavy feet, I arrived punctually at Ben’s outrageously lavish garden birthday party. Most of the people in Victoria and Ben’s circle knew who I was. In the past, they used to call me their brother and compliment how perfect Victoria and I were for each other. Now, they clustered in small groups, holding back laughter while pointing their phone cameras right at my painted face, eagerly recording my humiliation. I spotted Laura in the crowd, wearing a custom princess dress. When her eyes met mine, they churned with blatant disgust and furious embarrassment. A little girl in a pink dress next to her asked curiously, “Laura, who is that clown? Do you know him?” Laura turned her head away sharply, her voice piercing. “I don’t know that freak!” The paint hid my expression. This was fine. Since Laura was thoroughly disgusted by me, I could leave without a single shred of attachment. “Nolan, I can’t believe you actually had the guts to show up.” Ben walked up to me holding a glass of champagne, a fake, dramatic look of surprise on his face. He shook my hand, digging his long nails deeply into the soft flesh of my wrist until it bled. He lowered his voice so only we could hear. “Nolan, a year ago when you publicly called me home-wrecking trash, did you ever think you’d be begging on the floor like a dog today?” He immediately pulled his hand back, turning to Victoria with his brightest smile. “Victoria, I want to see the clown dance.” I didn’t even wait for Victoria to give the order. Like a marionette with its soul ripped out, I stiffly walked onto the stage and began to flail around, performing a vulgar, comical clown dance. Some of the people who knew me looked awkward, while others whistled and cheered at the spectacle. I treated them all like thin air, mechanically running through the final script. Until a sticky slice of cream cake hit me square in the face, clogging my nose. “Enough! Have you thrown away your last shred of dignity!” Through the gap in the frosting, I looked at the person who threw the cake. A strong metallic taste rose in my throat. I slowly wiped the cream off my eyes, ready to continue the dance. The next second, my arm was yanked hard. Victoria dragged me forcefully down the stairs. “It is over, Nolan.” She stared at me, her eyes chaotic, like something was choking her. While planning this party, she fully believed that seeing me act like an utter fool would give her the ultimate high of avenging Ben. But when it actually happened, all she felt was suffocating irritation and an indescribable panic. Maybe this absurd punishment game really needed to end. I looked at her lifelessly, my voice hoarse. “Is your demand complete?” She froze, nodding instinctively. “Yes.” Bzzzt… In that exact moment, the long-lost mechanical voice of the system finally rang loud and clear in my head. “Ding. Congratulations to Host 508 on completing the redemption side-quest. Please terminate all vital signs within ten minutes to prepare for world extraction.” “Nolan…” Victoria seemed to want to say something else. But without wasting a single second, I turned around and took large strides toward the roof of the main mansion. Seeing my resolute back, Victoria’s heart skipped a heavy beat. She subconsciously reached out to grab my shirt. But Ben held her arm tight. “Victoria, it’s time to cut the cake!” Victoria stood there, her eyes locked on my fading silhouette. For the first time, she realized that at some point, I had withered down to just skin and bones. Even that ridiculous clown suit hung loosely on my frame. She made a silent vow right then and there. Once this party ended, she would cut ties with Ben for good. The massive, multi-tiered fondant cake was rolled out. Victoria grasped the knife handle, somewhat distracted. Right at the moment the sharp blade pierced the frosting… Bang! A sickeningly heavy thud echoed from the courtyard outside.

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The unexpected twist on our graduation trip tore me and my fiancée apart for good. For six hours, I scoured the unfamiliar city like a madman, hunting for any trace of her. It wasn’t until I passed a cozy, warmly lit pub on a street corner that a voice drifting out froze me solid. “I never planned on bringing him anyway, I deliberately ditched him.” Willow’s drunken complaint pierced my ears. “Landon is just too clingy, it’s honestly annoying.” Her senior, Noah, chuckled in agreement. But she pressed on, “If only he could be as mature and steady as you.” I stumbled back to the beach, screaming her name with all my might until my throat was raw and bleeding. I couldn’t stop. Finally, I had no strength left even to confront her. I dragged my leaden legs back to the hotel, grabbed my passport, and hailed a cab straight to the airport. The city outside the window blurred into a smear. At the boarding gate, my phone finally lit up with her name. “Just charged it. You must have been worried sick, right? Send me your location, I’ll come find you right away.” Hearing her utter lack of apology, I hung up. My trembling fingers typed out four words: Wedding cancelled. 1 “Landon, what do you mean? You couldn’t keep up with me, you ran off, and now you’re taking it out on me?” Three seconds after I sent the message, Willow’s call came through. Faintly, I could hear our friends trying to calm her down on the other end. Noah, the senior, was clearly the closest. “You’re getting married, Willow. Talk to Landon nicely. Boys need to be coaxed.” A chorus of laughter erupted, and Willow’s voice grew colder. “We only booked the venue, the invitations haven’t even gone out. If Landon wants to cancel the wedding, fine by me!” She hung up. Willow’s fury, just like that, vanished. My phone wallpaper still showed her sunny smile. I paused, then decided to change it immediately. But when I opened my photo gallery, Willow was everywhere. I loved capturing every moment I spent with Willow. The way she’d scrunch up her nose at bitter Americano. The disgusted look as she picked out mushrooms I’d prepared. And the goofy hand dances I’d dragged her into. I selected them, one by one, deleting them. In the end, I simply cleared the entire album. For some reason, a huge chunk of my heart felt empty too. A fellow traveler tapped me on the shoulder, reminding me that my phone was buzzing relentlessly. It was Willow again. This time, her tone was softer. “Landon, I was out of line earlier. I was just too stressed.” “Don’t be mad at me. Where are you? I’ll come pick you up right away.” Seeing that I still said nothing, Willow grew a little anxious. “We planned to go snorkeling tomorrow, isn’t that what you’ve always wanted to do?” I opened my mouth, a reflex to say something. Willow loved snorkeling. As someone who couldn’t swim, I’d specifically hired a private instructor before this trip, practicing tirelessly. I didn’t want my clumsiness to wear out Willow’s patience. So I repeatedly overcame my fear, holding my breath and diving, my eyes bloodshot from the water after each lesson. Now, I felt it was all for nothing. “I…” I wanted to say let’s break up, I’m not getting married. But my throat felt like it had been scraped with gravel, dry and painful. The silence, lasting several seconds, completely infuriated Willow. “Landon, you’re really something.” “An hour of me not finding you at the hotel, and we’re done!” Whenever Willow and I argued, this tactic always worked. Because I loved her, seemingly more than she loved me. But this time, I wouldn’t budge. As the final call for boarding echoed, I walked towards the counter with my passport. The ground staff looked up at me, then handed the document back. It was then I realized, in my haste, I’d picked up Willow’s passport by mistake. And tomorrow’s flights back home were fully booked; the earliest I could rebook was the day after. An hour and a half later, exhausted, I rushed back to the hotel. My plan was to swap passports and find another place to stay. But just as I entered the lobby, I ran into Willow and Noah. Willow was clearly drunk, leaning on Noah’s shoulder. “Landon is really something too, how could he just leave without a word and abandon me?” “Here, have some water.” Noah held a glass to her lips. There was a noticeable lipstick print on the rim. Seeing me, he guiltily pushed Willow towards me. “Good you’re back, I’ll leave Willow to you.” I have allergies. As soon as I got close, the perfume scent clinging to Willow made me sneeze twice. Without thinking, I pushed her back to Noah. My voice was flat. “The senior got her drunk, so the senior can take care of her.” On the way back, I’d bought throat lozenges, and they helped a lot. I turned and walked upstairs, ignoring Noah’s darkened expression. There were six of us on this trip, three of them Willow’s college roommates. She wouldn’t be without a place to sleep tonight. After showering in my room, I realized Willow’s phone was on the bedside table, buzzing with notifications. Annoyed by the noise, I planned to mute it. But the stored facial recognition automatically unlocked the phone. The first thing I saw was Willow’s group chat. “Why does Willow put up with Landon, the rich kid? He’s useless except for being clingy.” “She was so wasted, Noah had to bring her back. I think they’re a perfect match.” “Wasn’t it because Noah was almost engaged that Willow even said yes to Landon?” My fingers stiffened, unable to press the power button. Because Noah had a girlfriend, even though Willow was overly attentive to him, I never dug too deep. At most, I’d pretend to be mad for a couple of days and wait for Willow to sweet-talk me. The more I thought, the more it hurt. Since I’d decided to break up, why did I still care about these things? Seeing the latest message pop up in the chat, I scoffed. “You didn’t know? Noah broke up with his girlfriend at the beginning of the month.” I paused, then suddenly understood why Willow had been so eager to organize this trip. Take me snorkeling? Film beautiful videos for me? All the reasons she’d spouted were just excuses. I turned to my suitcase, filled with all sorts of clothes. For me, this was supposed to be a journey of special significance. Because after returning home, I’d dive into wedding preparations, ready to become a husband, even a father. The day before we left, I stayed up all night planning. But fate always seemed to mock the earnest. Whether this relationship, or this trip, both had been utter failures. I looked out at the tranquil ocean beyond the French doors, feeling tears were utterly superfluous. Just as I was about to put down my phone and sleep, Willow’s phone received another message. From Noah. Just a few simple words: “Feeling better?” I stared at it for two seconds, then, on a whim, tapped the video call icon. The call connected instantly. Noah, on screen, was wearing a silk robe, his physique clearly visible. “You… why are you…?” Facing his undisguised embarrassment, I smiled. “Senior, really. If you want to hook up with someone else’s girlfriend, at least wait until I’ve dumped her. Then you’d be legitimate, wouldn’t you?” Noah’s face turned green, and he ended the call. … Perhaps it was sheer exhaustion, but I slept deeply. Until Willow burst in and dragged me out of bed. “Landon, Noah just broke up, why would you provoke him? If anything happens to him, I’m done with you!” This morning, with Noah missing, Willow had been a nervous wreck. Calling the police wasn’t enough; she even wanted to contact the embassy. I kept wondering if Willow had ever worried about me like that. But it seemed, never once. I always arrived ten minutes early for dates. I’d always report what I was doing, who I was seeing. If Willow missed me, even if I was vacationing with my parents, I’d take the fastest flight to be by her side. This was how I loved her. But in Willow’s eyes, it had become clinginess. Annoying. I didn’t know if I had used the wrong approach. Or perhaps, the fault wasn’t mine at all. This morning, Willow had publicly scolded me in front of her roommates, then later returned to ask for my help contacting the local business association. Out of respect for my parents, they would certainly lend a hand. But why should they? Noah and I had absolutely nothing to do with each other. And even Willow, not yet married, was no one to me. So I refused. “Noah is an adult. He’s responsible for his own safety.” Those were Willow’s words, spoken to Noah after she’d ditched me yesterday. Now, I returned them to her verbatim. But Willow grew furious. “Landon, I just realized today what a petty man you are! Do you think every woman in the world should revolve around you? You just didn’t like me inviting Noah on this trip, why didn’t you just say so?” Even her roommates chimed in from behind. “Willow was just worried you’d be uncomfortable as the only guy, so she invited Noah.” “Landon, Willow’s been good enough to you, what more do you want?” Before Noah left, he’d texted saying he didn’t want to spoil my fun. They all assumed I’d said something nasty to him. I had, but it was all true. Yet Noah had turned it around on me, and he’d succeeded. Since I couldn’t leave, I didn’t want to waste any more time. I was now at the beach, warming up for snorkeling. The instructor said there was a good chance of seeing whale sharks today, and I was absolutely thrilled. As we were about to set sail, I saw Willow and her friends approaching, clustered around Noah. “I told you you wouldn’t hold a grudge against Landon, it was all a misunderstanding.” Willow winked at me, signaling me to say something nice to Noah. I fought hard not to flip the table right there and then, and instead climbed onto the boat. There would be no peace today, I figured. It turned out Noah had just been in a bad mood and had gone to explore the local market alone. He’d even thoughtfully brought back gifts for everyone. Leaving no room for complaint. Once the boat set off, Willow, right in front of me, put on the handmade necklace Noah had given her. “Noah, your taste is really impeccable.” Willow cherished it like a treasure. And the one she’d taken off, she casually handed to me. I remembered, it was the birthday gift I’d given her last year. Willow had said she’d wear it forever, a promise to keep her close. Now, it seemed the meager sense of security she offered was just a temporary thing. I silently let my hand drop, allowing the necklace to be silently swept away by the waves. Letting go was my freedom, too. When we reached the snorkeling spot, Willow’s three roommates eagerly jumped into the water. She, like an expert, patiently helped Noah adjust his mask, fins, and other gear. By the time Willow remembered me and turned around to offer help, I was already fully geared up and had flipped into the water. No fear, only the passion to explore the ocean. Even in the few seconds a whale shark swam alongside me, I felt immense satisfaction. Life’s choices, perhaps some right, some wrong. But they always corresponded to different scenery. Having been here, having loved, was enough. After snorkeling, the atmosphere on the boat ride back was incredibly awkward. Noah, the university league’s 1000-meter butterfly champion, had been afraid to get in the water today. Willow had to sit with him on the boat all afternoon. When the instructor enthusiastically showed me the snorkeling videos and photos he’d taken of me, Willow looked a little regretful. “Landon, let’s come back again when we get married and go on our honeymoon.” Even now, Willow thought I was just speaking in anger yesterday. I was about to seize the opportunity to make things clear, when the sea suddenly grew windy. The change happened in an instant. When the boat capsized, it would be a lie to say I wasn’t scared. My hand instinctively reached for Willow, who was closest to me. But my fingertips brushed past her arm, grasping empty air. I watched Willow swim, without hesitation, desperately towards Noah. Stunned for a moment, a huge wave crashed over me, pushing me into the deep sea. I struggled with all my might, but it was futile. Both Willow and the shore drifted further and further away. Willow and I were neighbors, went to the same primary and middle school. Back then, my parents’ business was just starting, and they were very busy, so they’d have Willow and me walk to and from school together. Willow had always loved to tease me. On the first day of school, she deliberately left me behind. I was timid back then, dared not go anywhere. I just sat at the school gate, from sunset until late at night. “Landon!” It wasn’t my parents who came, but Willow. “Are you stupid? You don’t even know your way home!” After scolding me, Willow opened her backpack. It was stuffed with snacks, all her apologies. “Remember to stick with me from now on, got it?” Because of Willow’s words, I became her shadow. Dazed, I almost followed Willow into the girls’ restroom once. I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want to go to school. Willow, however, punched out the front teeth of the kid who was leading the teasing. As if telling everyone, being her sidekick was nothing to be ashamed of. In high school, my parents sent me to an international school. Willow went to a top-tier state high school. Every Friday, I’d wait for her early outside her school gate. Willow would always impatiently toss her backpack at me, no longer full of snacks, but instead, envelopes filled with love letters. Some for her, some for me. “Landon, don’t come looking for me at school anymore, your admirers are driving me crazy.” I habitually followed behind Willow, timidly apologizing. But secretly, I’d open the love letters people sent her. Reading the lines, sometimes subtle, sometimes bold, I’d get so jealous I couldn’t sleep. I don’t know why, but I just felt that I was the only one who could be Willow’s boyfriend. She was never a patient person. Yet she’d spend entire afternoons with me at the library. She’d wait two hours in line with me for trendy ice cream. On my 18th birthday, Willow, amidst everyone’s cheers, kissed my forehead. My face was so red I wanted to crawl into a hole. My friends said Willow would definitely confess to me after college started. To go to the same school as her, I worked incredibly hard. Even my parents, who insisted I study abroad, were convinced by me. But I never expected Willow to make an exception for another guy on the very first day of freshman orientation. Noah was a year ahead of us, responsible for greeting new students. On orientation day, my parents were busy, so Willow and I went together, eager to explore the campus where we’d study and live for the next four years. At the club recruitment fair, someone bumped into me. Willow, protecting me, got into an argument with Noah and almost came to blows. Noah stepped in to mediate, and Willow accidentally scratched his elbow. Willow panicked, insisting on taking Noah to the infirmary. In the crowded hallway, I couldn’t hold onto her arm. Willow’s phone was dead, I couldn’t reach her, but I thought she’d eventually come back for me, so I waited in place. In the end, Willow never appeared. That day, Noah showed Willow around the school and invited her to join the swim club. At the freshman welcome dance that evening, they were the most dazzling pair, while I arrived late. From that moment on, I decided not to wait passively anymore. I memorized Willow’s class schedule, always secretly sneaking into her classrooms. If the photography club had an event, I’d sign up as an external staff member. Everyone called me Willow’s inseparable shadow. But no one knew I was afraid, afraid Willow would be snatched away by someone else, like a Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. College life was different. Willow had many friends; she no longer included me in everything, even lied to me. I heard Willow was celebrating New Year’s Eve with her roommates by the river. Even though it was jam-packed, I braved the cold wind and rode a shared bike for two hours, just to see the fireworks with her at midnight. But when I shared my location, Willow was ten kilometers away at a shopping mall, celebrating Noah’s birthday. “Landon, actually, since you’re on the way, could you pick up a box of caramel egg tarts on Fortune Road? Noah wants some.” Even though both ends of the phone were noisy, I felt an eerie silence all around me, pushed and shoved by the New Year’s Eve crowd, like driftwood at sea, without a branch to cling to.

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It was time for the company’s end-of-year review. The boss announced that revenue was down. To boost morale, he decided to take my entire annual commission and distribute it to everyone as a holiday bonus. My coworkers were absolutely thrilled. One guy chimed in that since I drove a BMW and didn’t have student loans, I should look out for those of them who had families to feed. Another preached that a company only thrives when its employees are happy, telling me to be a team player and show some sacrifice. I just smiled, nodded, and immediately stepped out to call my clients, telling them to freeze all their pending payments. Fast forward to the week before the holidays. The company had zero cash flow. They couldn’t even make payroll. Panic set in. And one by one, they all came crawling to me, begging for help. 1 “The economy is tough right now. To make sure everyone has a great Christmas, Riley has generously agreed to donate her entire commission for the year. It will be distributed as your holiday bonuses!” The moment our boss Victor finished his sentence, the conference room erupted into thunderous applause. As the subject of this supposed generosity, I sat there completely stunned. Using my commission as the company bonus pool? This was the first time I was hearing about it. Swallowing the bitter taste of anger in my throat, I spoke up. “Our sales volume increased by fifteen percent compared to last year. Logically, the company is highly profitable. We shouldn’t be in a position where we can’t afford standard holiday bonuses, right?” Victor’s fake smile instantly vanished. “Do you have any idea how much it costs to keep all of you employed? I match your 401k, I pay for premium health insurance. Have I ever mistreated you?” “What do you know about operating a business? Just because you say we’re profitable doesn’t make it true! Why don’t you sit in this chair and run the company!” Victor was getting more agitated by the second, slamming his hand flat against the mahogany table. Terrified of getting caught in the crossfire, my coworkers kept their heads down, exchanging nervous glances. The room fell dead silent until Victor’s assistant finally broke the ice. “Come on, Victor, don’t get mad! Riley definitely didn’t mean it like that. She’s a veteran here. She would never just sit back and watch us struggle through the holidays.” Serena, our Sales Director, had always hated my guts. There was no way she was going to let an opportunity to screw me over slip by. “Riley, whenever you needed help, Victor and I never hesitated! You’ve always been the most mature one here. The company is facing a rough patch and needs your sacrifice. Don’t be ungrateful!” With that, she shot a pointed look at Valerie sitting next to her. Valerie’s eyes darted around before she took the cue. “Look, most of us spend our paychecks covering mortgages, car loans, or kids’ tuition. You’re different. Your parents bought your condo in cash. Even without this commission, you’re going to have a fantastic holiday.” “But don’t worry, your generosity won’t go unnoticed!” She plastered on a sickeningly sweet smile and addressed the room. “Everyone, when you visit your hometowns this break, make sure to bring back some local treats for our girl Riley!” “Oh, absolutely! My whole family will be so grateful to you, Riley. I’ll bring you some of my mom’s famous homemade maple syrup!” “Riley, I promise to work twice as hard next year! I’m going to toast to your health on New Year’s Eve!” “I’m not great with words, but I’ll put it out there. From now on, whatever you need, just say the word and I’ve got your back!” One by one, they chimed in, piling the fake praise higher and higher. Seeing his employees act so obediently, Victor finally cracked a smug smile. “I always knew I wasn’t wrong about Riley. When the employees thrive, the company thrives! Come on everyone, let’s give it up for Riley’s selfless contribution!” The applause grew louder, but my heart turned entirely to ice. As the top sales rep in the company, I was scraping by on a pathetic base salary of three thousand a month. If my family wasn’t financially comfortable, and if my parents didn’t occasionally help me out, I wouldn’t even have enough cash to cover the fancy dinners required to entertain my clients. It wasn’t like I had never complained about this. I had told Victor that the base pay was insulting, expense reimbursements took months to clear, and relying on my own pocket to build client relationships was hurting our business growth. His response back then? An awkward chuckle and a personal Venmo transfer of five grand, framed as a “personal loan” to tide me over. He had heavily implied that I needed to understand the company’s struggles and tough it out. He even promised that when my year-end commission was calculated, he would throw in interest for the hassle. Like a fool, I believed him. I gritted my teeth and worked like a dog. I had been counting down the days until the end of the year. The moment December hit, I sat down with our new accountant to run the numbers. When I saw my accumulated commission was sitting at a cool hundred grand, I was ecstatic. I had it all planned out. I was going to pay my parents back and use the rest to take them on a luxury vacation to the Bahamas. And now? Without a single word of consultation, he took my hundred thousand dollars and handed it out as charity to buy loyalty. It hit me then. Victor never intended to pay me a dime. If he was going to play dirty, I was going to play ruthless. I held up a hand, stopping a younger colleague named Noah who looked like he was about to speak up in my defense. I let out a cold, sharp laugh. “Alright. Since everyone feels so strongly about it, let’s consider it done.” 2 Victor clearly hadn’t expected me to cave so easily. A flicker of suspicion crossed his eyes, but he didn’t push his luck. With a stiff chuckle, he patted my shoulder and dismissed the meeting. My coworkers filed out, side-stepping me. As they brushed past, the mocking glints in their eyes practically screamed that I was the biggest sucker on the planet. I sat alone in the quiet room, waiting until the last person was gone before returning to my desk. “Alright everyone, our holiday bonuses are secured! To celebrate the good news, afternoon coffee is on me!” Serena clapped her hands, her voice loud enough for the whole floor to hear. Noah, who was on my team, immediately jumped in. “That new place downstairs has a seasonal roast. I’ve been dying to try it.” He glanced over at me. “Riley, what do you want?” Before I could politely decline, Valerie’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Oh please. Riley drives a Beamer. She wouldn’t be caught dead drinking drip coffee from downstairs. She only does artisanal lattes. Just order for ourselves.” Noah looked deeply uncomfortable. I saved him the trouble. “I’ve been dealing with insomnia anyway. I’ll pass.” Grabbing my phone, I walked straight to the rooftop terrace. The biting winter wind cut through my rage, bringing a sharp clarity to my mind. I found a contact and hit dial. “Harper. Put a hold on this year’s final payments. There’s no rush.” After a burst of bright, infectious laughter, Harper started teasing me. “Are you playing hard to get, Riley? Relax. I already approved the paperwork this morning. The funds will drop in two days. I promise you won’t be stuck living off a three-grand base salary anymore!” “I’m not joking, Harper. Seriously, hold the payment.” Sensing the shift in my tone, Harper’s voice instantly dropped the playful edge. “What happened? Who messed with you?” “Let me guess. Victor lost his damn mind and disrespected his top earner?” “…Don’t tell me he backed out of paying your commission.” I let out a heavy sigh. On the other end of the line, Harper sounded like she had just struck gold. “I told you! I told you to come work for me! If you jump ship and join my team, I’ll beat whatever commission rate they gave you by a full percent!” “Don’t answer right now. Just think about it. My door is always open.” She hung up quickly, almost as if she was afraid I would reject her on the spot. Truth was, I had no intention of rejecting her. If anything, I was incredibly grateful for how she had looked out for me over the years. I wasn’t some corporate heiress. I didn’t have a CEO father or family connections to pave my way. I wasn’t even that great at schmoozing executives over expensive cocktails. But I knew how to be genuine, and people remembered that. When one client’s mother was diagnosed with diabetes, I consulted a specialist and personally typed up a custom dietary plan. When another client was too busy to notice her daughter was being relentlessly bullied at school, I was the one who drove down there and raised hell in the principal’s office. Every single account I won, I bled for. I earned my title as top seller from the ground up. After hanging up with Harper, I dialed a few more of my key accounts. Thankfully, these were people who actually considered me a friend. They were more than happy to help me serve up a cold dish of revenge. Satisfied, I slipped my phone into my pocket and headed toward the stairwell, fully intending to march down to HR and quit. But as I rounded the corner, Victor’s voice echoed from the hallway. “A hundred grand is not chump change. Once it hits my accounts, it’s my money. Riley isn’t asking for her commission. She’s reaching into my wallet and robbing me.” “I’m withholding it on purpose. What’s she going to do? She’ll swallow her pride and keep working like a dog to make me rich.” My stomach dropped. I quickly stepped back, hiding behind a row of filing cabinets. I heard Serena’s voice next. “People online say firing your top earner is like cutting a major artery. You aren’t worried she’ll quit and take the clients with her?” Victor scoffed loudly. “Top earner? She’s a gullible idiot!” “She only pulls those numbers because she has the Apex brand backing her. Any account she can close, I guarantee you can close too!” I heard the dull clink of ceramic as Victor playfully bumped his coffee mug against Serena’s. Serena giggled. “Well, I know my place, unlike her. I’d gladly take a lower commission rate. Thanks for the opportunity, boss!” They erupted into laughter. “She brought this on herself. If she wants someone to blame, she can blame her own high numbers!” My fingernails dug so hard into my palms they almost broke the skin. The blood roared in my ears. Originally, I was just going to hand in my resignation and take the commission issue to the Department of Labor. But now? The game had changed. I was going to make Victor fire me. And I was going to bleed him dry for every single cent of severance and commission I was owed. 3 The end of the year was a nightmare of deadlines. Normally, the sales department was deserted by mid-afternoon as reps went out to meet clients. Today, everyone was glued to their monitors, furiously typing away. If I wasn’t actively plotting my own termination, I would be drowning in work right now, chasing down delayed invoices while drafting strategic plans for the first quarter. Pulling twelve-hour shifts was the standard. But today? I was in absolute paradise. I played three rounds of a mobile game on the clock, streamed an episode of a new reality show, and when I got bored, I wandered down to the lobby to gossip with the receptionist. Before I knew it, it was quitting time. My coworkers were still typing frantically, completely oblivious to the clock. With exactly five minutes to spare, I shut down my laptop, packed my designer tote, and stood right in front of the fingerprint scanner. The second the clock struck five, I punched out and practically skipped out of the building. I had barely made it to the intersection down the street when my phone lit up with Serena’s name. “Riley! Everyone is grinding out these deadlines and you just clock out without submitting your proposal?! Get your ass back here right now! The Crestwood Corp pitch is in a few days. I need that deck on my desk tonight!” “The deadline isn’t for another three days. Chill out. I’ll have the deck ready by the pitch.” “Your pitch needs company approval first! I’m telling you for the last time, turn around and come back to the office. Disobey me, and I’ll pull you off this flagship account!” I let out a dry laugh. “I don’t even get commission anymore. Taking me off the account just sounds like a paid vacation.” “Fine. You’re going to regret this!” Serena slammed the phone down. I powered my phone completely off. After a nice, quiet dinner at home, I took my parents out for an evening walk in the park. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had done this. Since I started working, my life was a relentless cycle of quotas and metrics. The fear of being dead last and publicly humiliated at the weekly meetings kept me constantly on the road, swallowing insults and forcing smiles for clients. And every year, the quotas got higher. The corporate greed was quite literally a bottomless pit. The next morning, I swiped into the office at exactly nine. Not a minute early. Walking past Serena’s glass office, the harsh stench of stale cigarette smoke hit my nose. I asked Noah about it. He whispered that Serena hadn’t gone home at all. She stayed up all night desperately trying to build the Crestwood proposal herself, but Victor kept rejecting her drafts. By lunch, she looked like a zombie. She didn’t even stop to eat before dragging Victor out of the office with her. A few days later, the morning of the Crestwood pitch finally arrived. Serena’s exhausted aura was completely gone, replaced by an air of arrogant victory. Before heading out, she gathered the sales floor for a quick huddle. “Every ounce of success you have is because of this company. Don’t ever delude yourselves into thinking that just because you have decent numbers, the company has to bow down to you. Get too full of yourself, and you’ll find yourself out on the street!” I knew the threat was aimed directly at me, but I was so desperate to get fired that I couldn’t stop the massive grin spreading across my face. Serena looked like she wanted to strangle me. Thankfully, Victor knocked on the glass, telling her the Uber was waiting, and she managed to swallow her rage. Noah leaned over and whispered that Serena and Victor had spent the previous evening taking Arthur Brooks, a VP at Crestwood, out for a very expensive dinner. Rumor had it the proposal was greenlit in private, and today’s pitch was just a corporate formality. He looked at me with genuine anxiety. “Riley, aren’t you worried at all? If Serena lands Crestwood, she’s going to use that leverage to get rid of you.” Arthur Brooks? I smirked, but kept my mouth shut. Over at Crestwood’s headquarters, Serena was scheduled as the final presenter. She pulled up her deck, strutting across the front of the boardroom, words spilling out of her mouth a mile a minute. Just as she was hitting her stride, the lead executive cut her off. “Is this your actual proposal? The quality is completely unrecognizable from your previous work. You haven’t even grasped our core demographic or strategic direction for Q1. I don’t have time to entertain this garbage.” Serena froze like a deer in headlights. Her confident smile shattered. A thin layer of cold sweat broke out across her forehead. “We… we built this exactly to Arthur’s specifications…” The executive didn’t even let her finish. He waved his hand dismissively and pushed his chair back to leave. Victor scrambled forward, panic in his eyes. “Please! The rep who normally writes our decks had a medical emergency! Give us one more chance. I’ll have her send the real file over right now!” The executive paused, checked his watch, and slowly sat back down. Two minutes later, my phone rang. It was Victor. “Riley, get your ass over here right now!” When I didn’t immediately respond, his voice shifted into desperate pleading. “If you save this account for us, I swear on my life I will pay out your full commission!” “Deal! With a promise like that, boss, consider it done.” I hung up, grabbed my coat, and took a cab straight to the venue. Having worked with these executives for years, we were on great terms. When I walked into the boardroom, the icy atmosphere instantly thawed. “Hey, Riley!” “Thank god you’re here, Riley. We were starting to get worried.” I gave them a warm smile and immediately plugged my flash drive into the console. Victor, entirely convinced I had swallowed his bait about the commission, didn’t even bother checking the file before tossing the remote to Serena. Serena stood back up, cleared her throat, and launched into a renewed opening statement. She got exactly two words out before the screen flashed. Suddenly, a massive, glitchy cartoon donkey appeared on the eighty-inch monitor, blasting a deafening, bass-boosted remix of “Old MacDonald” at max volume. The entire boardroom fell dead silent. Serena jumped backward, letting out a shriek. She frantically mashed the buttons on the clicker to close the presentation. But the clicker was totally unresponsive. The screen froze, leaving the neon donkey spinning upside down while the terrible music blared on a loop. A few people in the room started snickering. The lead executive slammed his hands on the table, absolutely furious. “Is this how Apex treats a multi-million dollar account?! Are you people making a joke out of us?!” At that exact moment, every single eye in the room turned to look at me.

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